#blind royal guardian
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FNAF-Security Breach-Fury's Rage-full color
#fnaf security breach#montgomery gator#five nights at freddy's#freddy fazbear#FNAF security breach fury's rage#fury's rage#digialillustration#digital fanart#digital art#blind royal guardian
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Would your muses break a law they think is unethical or would they put up with it because it is law?
Didn't specify so I assume you want ALL THE KIDS:
Jazz would and has broken laws and rules due to them being unethical, unfair, and outright stupid. We blame Sonic for this influence-
Andie doesn't mine breaking laws if it gets under GUN's skin. Especially once he's older he would be willing to help others... once again we thank Sonic for this influence.
Pearl is more likely to put up with laws, but that's also because she has the power to change them. Being the princess in the Sol Dimension, she has influence to get laws change to be more ethical, more so once she becomes Queen.
Matt would break the law whether it's unethical or not lol. He does not care as long as it benefits him and those he cares about.
Kaz would most likely accidentally break a law whether ethical or not. He kind of just stumbles around and does what he thinks is right.
Yana is more likely to put up with laws and rules unless they put people at risk or allow people to get hurt.
Kawiil would also break laws ethical or not. She would follow what feels right.
Lucus and Amara would break laws and then use their royal status to get away with breaking laws.
Simon absolutely would break unethical laws. I would argue probably has already. It has gotten him in lots of trouble.
Maria is a baby. Can baby break law?
Locke would like to break unethical laws but I get the feeling he'd be too terrified to.
#[mail time]#!golden future#!jazz hands#!best thief#!teleporting royal#!future guardian#!sol princess#!adventure time#!chaos child#!blind prince#!simon tba#!locke tba#!maria tba
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Jade Mountain Academy students
#Bonus - Faculty chapter
And here, as has been requested, we have the ones in charge of the operation. And so I am left pondering that, over the course of this project, I have drawn essentially all of the arc 1 and arc 2 protagonists... with the exception of Glory. That's pretty weird.
Anyway, here goes:
Sunny
Teaches subject(s) - Art, Cultural Exchange
Additional responsibilities- Founder, chief administrator, student admission, teacher-student relations, Silver winglet guardian
Tribe - Sandwing (partial Nightwing heritage)
Color - Sunrise gold
Relatives - Stonemover (father)
Physical characteristics - bright golden color; green eyes; no venom barb; small stature with slim to average build
Tsunami
Teaches subject(s) - Exercise
Additional responsibilities- "Head of School", security chief, Jade winglet guardian
Tribe - Seawing
Color - Cobalt blue
Relatives - Prince Turtle (brother), Princess Anemone (sister)
Physical characteristics - bent horns; royal wing markings; small burn scar on right side of neck, small cut in wing membrane; large build, long and burly
Clay
Teaches subject(s) - Anatomy
Additional responsibilities- Chief healer, student counselor, Copper winglet guardian
Tribe - Mudwing
Color - Bronze
Relatives - Umber (brother), Sora (sister), Marsh (brother)
Physical characteristics - curly horns; diminished mobility in right hindleg, walks with a limp; very large stature, muscular, heavy, broad
Starflight
Teaches subject(s) - Science, Literacy
Additional responsibilities- Chief librarian, chief accountant, Quartz winglet guardian
Tribe - Nightwing
Color - Midnight blue gray
Relatives - none on site
Physical characteristics - severe burn scarring across face, neck, and chest; blind in both eyes; average size and build
Fatespeaker
Teaches subject(s) - Science, Literacy (assisting)
Additional responsibilities- Assistant librarian, assistant student counselor, inventory
Tribe - Nightwing
Color - Dark violet black
Relatives - none on site
Physical characteristics - curved horns; small silver scales near eyes and along body; smallish stature, slim, slightly underweight
Webs
Teaches subject(s) - History
Additional responsibilities- Assistant healer, assistant accountant, Gold winglet guardian
Tribe - Seawing
Color - Teal green and blue
Relatives - none on site
Physical characteristics - blotty, luminous markings across body, luminous birthmark on left front talon; small puncture scar on tail; medium to large size, gaunt frame
Stonemover
Tribe - Nightwing
Relatives - Sunny (daughter)
Additional notes - Stonemover is neither a member of the Jade Mountain Academy faculty, nor a student, but remains on site as a consultant on various animus-related matters (and also because he is stuck to the floor).
#wings of fire#dragon#wof#digital art#wof art#flawseer art#wof sunny#wof tsunami#wof clay#wof starflight#wof fatespeaker#wof webs#wof stonemover#jade mountain academy
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CHANGE
PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!VILLAIN!READER
GENRE: ENEMIES TO LOVERS, ANGST, MUTUAL PINING, COMFORT
WORD COUNT: 8K
WARNINGS: THEMES OF ABUSE! READER HAS AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP WITH THEIR PARENT THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING! GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF INJURIES. DOES NOT FOLLOW ATSV PLOT.
AUTHORS NOTE: PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO TOPICS LIKE ABUSE, FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED. I DID MY BEST TO LEAVE THE DESCRIPTION OF READERS GEAR VAUGE SO THAT YOU CAN IMAGINE WHATEVER YOU'D LIKE BUT READER AT BASELINE HAS FIRE ABILITIES + WINGS, AND A MASK THAT CAN SHOW EXPRESSIONS LIKE A SPIDER-PERSON CAN. HOBIES PERSONALITY IS HEAVILY INSPIRED OFF OF HIS COMICS!
SYNOPSIS: YOURE SUPPOSED TO HATE SPIDERPUNK, BUT…WHEN HES THE ONLY ONE WHO TREATS YOU KINDLY…AND THE ONLY ONE WHO HELPS YOU WHEN THE PERSON YOU SHOULD TRUST BETRAYS YOU, HOW COULD YOU?
-
There was the sound of the city below, and the rushing of wind above, but there was nothing in between. You felt nothing; just coming to and completely delirious. Your head spun as you looked down on London, watching droplets of blood fall from…your body? Were you bleeding? You suddenly became aware of the familiar deep mumbling above your head and the secure arms that held you tightly. You looked down at the red suit and black leather worn by who held you and pieced it all together, albeit slowly; you were in your rival’s arms, bleeding out as he was web slinging through the sky. You groaned, growing privy of injures that you didn't know you had, immediately feeling Hobie’s arms tighten,
“It's okay, you're gonna be okay.” You heard his deep voice faintly, sounding panicked and far away. You squirmed, wincing and crying out,
You couldn't feel your wings.
–
Spiderman, Spiderpunk, asshole–whatever you wanted to call him—he was a royal pain in your ass. He’d cocoon you inside indestructible webs when he caught your gang in a crime, beeline to you when he was fighting off the group, and web you down whenever he’d catch you lurking on the rooftops at night, leaving the scene slinging away with a sly or flirty remark. At first, you just assumed that he must have sensed weakness in you–not taking you seriously and toying with you for kicks…it could have been true and honestly probably was, but you were ready for a change. You had changed significantly since you and Spiderman first met. He didn’t see you for a very long time while you worked out and trained, touching up your fighting skills, reaction time, and stamina–never slacking off. It didn't take long for you to surpass your once superiors, becoming your Master’s most prized possession.
Your Master was all you knew for a guardian figure. They called you their ‘Firefly,’ as you had phoenix-like wings and fire based abilities that they were oh so proud of. What you didn’t know, was that they formed your supernatural self, nurturing you in their lab after destroying your genetic makeup until you were ready to be their perfect prodigy, yet they didn't want you taking on their largest mission–killing Spiderman. They told you that they knew about the way he targeted you and took you down with minimal effort and they hated it–not wanting to see you caught in a life-or-death fight with him.
“He may have never hurt you, but if he wants to, he will.” They would say. You never knew that it was all lies, only hating the idea of your Master looking down on you.
So you would become Spiderman’s biggest threat–telling yourself it was not to prove a point to them, but to you.
–
You were ready for this city to finally start taking you seriously; buildings emptying at the glow of your fiery wings, blinds closing and light flicking off at the sound of your crackling fire, streets clearing with screams of “Spiderpunk!” and “Help!” You believed today was the day.
The people of London already knew the sight of you meant trouble—often the most eye-catching of your master’s entourage even though you weren’t the most dangerous, but you were rarely seen alone. It was alarming to the citizens who quickly emptied the dark streets. You felt a sense of confidence surge in your chest at the fear in their eyes just from you simply walking, lighting up the streets with a red-orange glow and wildfire-like crackling sounds. You didn’t get very far though, a faint booming guitar chord piercing the air nearby like a firework. You grit the soles of your gear into the ground, securing your mask and looking up to catch Spiderpunk swinging off a tall building, legs spread and hand outstretched in your direction,
“Ay, what do you know?! If it isn't the Firefly all by herself! What do you think you're doing out here, lil phoenix?” His voice quickly gained volume as he swung full speed ahead in your direction, aiming to effortlessly web you up and leave the scene when he neared and took a powerful blow directly to the chin, flying into the wall like a magnet to metal.
He groaned, fallen on the floor and back slammed into the brick wall, “Damn! Where did you learn how to throw a punch like that? Did’ja friends finally decide to teach you the basics?” With squinty spider-suit eyes, he rubbed his jaw, comically ‘fixing’ it back into place before lunging like a jumping spider and tackling you with his arms around your waist. Your back hit the ground with a thud and you quickly kicked your feet up on his stomach and flipped the two of you backwards with your hands on his leather vest. You throw punches and hits with calculated precision and instead of being scared…Spiderpunk is pleasantly surprised at your newfound strength. He finds himself totally up for the challenge of fighting someone ‘worth his time.’ He web slings out from under you, jumping behind a nearby bench to put some distance between the two of you and attempt to apprehend you,
“Come on Spiderpunk, throw a punch! What are you, scared? Didn’t think you’d have to even try to beat me huh? Is that it, asshole?” You yell in frustration, hand clutching the back of the bench and clearing it like a track meet. He backpedals, never once getting violent with you–no hitting, punching or kicking, just strategically tiring you out until he can find an opening and restrain you.
“Come on now, you know this is just anotha cakewalk for your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.” He laughs in a sarcastic teasing way to rile you up, ducking to avoid your advances when you unexpectedly lunge at him, your masked heads knocking against each other and sending him falling over into a messy alley. Spiderpunk struggles against you before you slam your fist across his cheek, sending his head left before he cranes it back, grabs your ready fist, and then the other one when you raise it. You're both grunting and panting, his eyes squinty and your arms shaking like an arm wrestle when, eventually, he overpowers you and pushes you off him, wrapping you up like a spider to its prey and having the temerity to dust his hands off after,
“Well, I oughta say, tonight was full of more surprises than I would've ever guessed! Didn’t know you had all that fight in you, Firefly.” He said, casually leaning against the wall across from you with his foot up, wiping his wrist over his masked forehead and feigning exhaustion. Your face scrunched up in anger at the name, reserved for only your Master.
“Don't call me that! I don't need you underestimating me, Spiderpunk, and I don't need your pity–actually fight me next time!” You spit, “I’ll be back for you.” Your ablaze wings tear through the web restrains and you fly away, knowing he’ll let you go. He watched you leave into the night sky, cursing to himself at the throbbing pain in his jaw. He slumped off the wall, web slinging home with a sense of sympathy weighing heavy in his heart,
“Poor thing–all fucked in the head.”
–
Your Master has a long standing history with Spiderpunk. They were once a cop—devoted to their work and truly confident that they were doing the right thing. Then one day, this ‘Spiderman’ came along. He ruined everything; encouraging anarchy, winning the people's hearts and turning the citizens against the officers–but worst of all, he killed their brother who was also in the police force. Nothing was the same since, and they turned to a life of crime, building a force of people who wanted to do anything in their power to stop Spiderman.
Spiderpunk had directly attacked their old headquarters before, growing more and more familiar with their motives, their methods, and more importantly, their members. There was a new lair now, sneakily hidden from Spiderpunk to keep him from learning more than he already knew.
What he did know was your Master was like a parent in your eyes. He knew you were unable to label anyone else as a guardian in your broken life, but damn it was sick to him. Your Master literally made you address them as such to enforce harsh power dynamics and keep you in your place. They mutilated your genetic code like a lab rat, but you can't remember a thing because you were completely comatose. They wanted to train you until you were strong enough to fight for them, and then do nothing to prevent your death when the foreign chemicals in your body would eventually catch up to you. Worst of all, they don't want you around Spiderpunk because he knows the truth. They do everything in their power to keep you faithful to them because they know you'll be too strong on Spiderman’s side–you'll turn to him without sparing them a second glance if you knew the truth.
They couldn't let that happen. They wouldn't let that happen. They swore it to themselves everyday.
–
You came quietly through the doors of the lair (which was disguised as just another house in a crowded street) keeping all noise to an absolute minimum to avoid the ‘where were you’ questions from your comrades. You were new to sneaking out, never seeing a point in it before this self-improvement journey of yours. You were lost in thought, walking to your room when a loud slam jumped you. You cursed and looked up to see none other than your Master standing in front of you, staring at you with an intensity that never meant any good, rendering the hallway placate. You looked up at them, fear taking over your bones.
“…Where have you been for the past hour?” Their dour tone sliced through the thick silence. You held eye contact like you've been told,
“I went out to train.” You answered, not the full truth but not a lie either. You looked up at them with a cold-sweat inducing anticipation rattling your knees. The silence was so loud, and your heart wouldn’t stop pounding.
You didn't even register that you had been slapped until you noticed you were no longer looking your Master in the eyes. Your face felt warm, stinging with pain as your eyes welled with tears that you fought back. They said nothing more, leaving you to stand stunned in the hallway for a long moment and then trudge into your room to fall asleep feeling numb.
–
You knew you must have done something to deserve the punishment of getting slapped and grounded, but you also felt that your Master just didn't understand what you were doing— that you were doing it for them. You were going to help them take down Spiderpunk! You were going to do what they had always wanted! After thinking for a long hour in your room, you decided you just needed to be more sneaky. That way, they couldn't be mad at you in the end when you finally got their worst enemy in the lair, bound up and defenseless.
Nothing could stop you from training mercilessly for days, readying yourself to fight Spiderpunk again. You lived for the shocked expression on his spider-suit mask when you threw punch after punch at him, taunting him with an attitude that he had never seen from eager but stupid you–you who had failed to even get close enough to attack him in the past. He had wondered why he wasn't seeing you with the usual group for a couple months, almost worried that your Master had done something.
Time passed and the few times you saw Spidepunk, you were with a bigger group. You were no longer the first person he took down, rather the last—he struggled more and more fighting you these days. It had been days since your last 1V1 encounter and night fell—this time, you waited until you were absolutely positive that your Master was asleep before you left out your window, flying into the night with your blazing wings. You knew how Spiderpunk was going to fight you this time, playing a completely defensive game until he saw an opening to take you down, and you were prepared for it–ready to counteract it. You didn't want to leave this battle completely unscathed like last time, you wanted a fair fight.
–
Hobie sat on a distant rooftop, overlooking London in the darkness of the night. He had had a very ‘normal’ day in Spiderpunk terms—help a little old lady across the road, stop a handful of thief’s dumb enough to steal in broad daylight with his spidergang, and graffiti a couple political statements in places that no one else could reach. He chose a rooftop garden area to relax, chewing his bright pink bubblegum and strumming on his guitar with his heavy boots hanging over the ledge.
Hobie thought about you, he thought about Y/N L/N. It was difficult to fight someone who was so misguided, so fixated on a dream that would only hurt them more. He didn’t know what he could do to get to you—to get you comfortable enough with him to even believe a word of what he’s been dying to tell you. Hobie needed to save you from your Master and the twisted ideology they had drilled into every fiber of your being.
He knew no one else would understand why he cared the way he did. Hobie had a soft spot for you and your gang because he knew of the lives that you were all robbed of.
He strummed his sticker-covered guitar to the bridge of ‘Change (In the House of Flies),’ looking down at the bursts of color that his guitar cycled through in time with each chord he played.
There was a fleeting moment of tranquility, then his spidey-senses went wild, a fiery glow seen from behind him.
Hobie didn’t move—he didn’t even flinch—he just softly finished the song,
“I was beginning to think I wouldn’t be seein’ you again.” Hobie quipped, getting on his feet and slinging his guitar behind him, turning to face you.
You looked him over—his spiky accessories, his expressive messy spider-suit eyes, his guitar and all its color. You wondered what he could have done to become the center of all your Masters hate. You knew it had to have been pretty significant, even if you didn’t understand it.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Spiderman.” You said, voice muffled through your mask. Now it was Hobie’s turn to take you all in. You had definitely made some augmentations to your gear since he last saw you, he could see how touched up it looked and he started to worry you might catch him off guard this time, so he tested the waters. He circled you slowly and instantly you tensed and out came exactly what he feared—new weaponry.
Fiery blades ignited out of your wrist gear as you put your hands up in a block. Hobie was actually impressed,
“Well would ya look at that! A shiny new weapon, eh? did ya make that all by yourself, lil phoenix?” He inquired, leaning in with typical comical Spiderman enthusiasm. He got too close for comfort, resulting in you swinging your burning blades at him with a grunt. Hobie lurched backwards, making a shocked noise,
“Alright alright, trying to show me what those new blades can do huh? Come on, come get me.” He teased, web-slinging away and starting a chase. Hobie was often chasing, not entirely used to the reverse, but he felt adrenaline pump through his veins at the sound of your yells, chasing him like a rabid animal through the rooftops of London.
This time, you knew well what he was doing—attempting to tire you out and get you at your weakest without even having to lay a finger on you, then restrain you like last time—so you came to the fight with a couple tricks up your sleeve.
You ducked down into an alleyway, seemingly headfirst, running down the wall and up the next.
Spiderpunk looked behind him, expecting to see your struggling form desperately trying to keep up with him, only for his heart to stop at the sight of you—or the lack thereof.
His reflexes came in handy when he saw a faint glow out of his peripherals. He swung from a high-hanging sign when you lunged at him from his side, giving him minimal time to react. He tried to web to another building, but he was too slow. Your fingers closed around his neck, slamming him into the wall, his long fingers instinctively came up to your wrists, only to falter away when he nearly slices his hands clean off on your blades. He instead opts to use his boots to try and kick you away, but blades instantly ignite out of the gear surrounding your ankles,
“You really came prepared huh? Whipped up all this new gear in a matter of days just to see me? You’re so thoughtful.” He grit out, still trying to not harm you if he doesn’t have to. He was in the middle of calculating your next move when you brought your head back like you were going to knock him out with it. Instantly, Hobie ducks down, thrusting his spiky spider-suit mask at your chest and pushing away from you when you flinch and let go of him.
“Spiderpunk!” You screamed, jumping up and lunging at him, sending artificial webs his way. He rolled and dodged them, yelping in surprise,
“Look at you! I mean, you’re basically a spider woman now!” He shoots his own webs, snagging your ankle and effectively stumping you, if only for a moment when your heated blades sear them off. You angrily throw yourself at him again, falling to the ground when he dodges. Suddenly, a loud crack is heard as your left ankle gear slams against the solid rooftop, buzzing and crackling as it breaks. You hiss and grunt angrily, and Hobie’s brain lights up. He has to break all your new toys to take you down, that’s all.
Spiderpunk suddenly jumps at you, tackling you onto your back to keep your wings useless and webbing your biceps down, then your thighs—they’re the spots where you have no defense mechanisms, although you’re a lot stronger than he’s used to seeing you so he remains cautious. He grabs hold of your ankle, pressing his palms into the gear and sending electric volts through it—he risks the chance of hurting you, but when he begins to fry the electrical cords and sees only confusion in your eyes, he continues. The gear fizzes and smokes as it breaks, but Hobie feels the shock of it all, wincing and grunting as he get electrocuted.
Your eyes widen as you realize what he’s doing, and you scream,
“No! No!” You strain against his webs, freeing one arm and swinging your fist at the man, slicing the cheek of his mask only for him to grab your bicep and pin you back down with a struggle, electrocuting himself once more as he kills your right wrists gear with a zap!
You look up at him, paralyzed with confusion as he still refuses to hurt you, only breaking your gear so you’ll run back home again. You won’t take it, breaking free your left fist the very next second and screaming in anger when he pins it down with all the strength he can muster.
"Why are you doing this? Why won't you ever fight me?" You scream emotionally, struggling against him as he uses all the strength he has left to fry your last piece of protective gear while you struggle against him, kicking and pushing to no use. He doesn't speak at first, breathing heavily, and sighing,
“You really wanna know?” He mumbles, looking at you through his mask with squinty eyes, “Or do you just want an answer that will make you happy?” He asks, leaning back and getting off of you completely, but keeping you restrained on the ground.
“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask, genuinely caught off guard, letting out a scoff, “Dont pull some weird mysterious bullshit with me-”
“I’m serious.” He cuts you off. It doesn't sound harsh or angry, it’s strangely genuine. “The truth hurts–worse than anything I could do to you if I fought back the way you so badly want.” He says through his thick accent, sitting beside you and looking out at the city.
You looked up, knocking your masked head on the hard surface while you thought in angry silence. What could Spiderpunk have to tell you? Why did he think it would matter to you? You hadn't really guessed there was a good reason for why he didn't fight you, just assuming he pitied you. You let your head loll to the side and looked at the spikey masked man with dark skin peeking through the cut you left in his mask, your curiosity winning,
“I…I’m all ears.” You mumble, your voice hoarse.
He just looked at you for a moment, then he cursed and ran his large palm down his covered face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't know what to say or how to say it. How do you tell someone their whole life is a lie? Furthermore, they're fighting for a cause that will end in their demise? He gazed off into the sparkling lights below,
“It’s not easy to say so i’m just gonna tell you as bluntly as possible. I’ve known that lousy sod you call ‘Master’ for years now…they’re not at all who you think they are.” He starts, missing the way your body stiffens, “And…neither are you. They actually…made you what you are. You weren't supposed to have the abilities you have but they-”
“No, no I'm not listening to this, this is useless! You're full of shit!” You spat, arching your back enough to set your wings free, cutting through the webs, triggering him to jump up and put his palms out defensively,
“Hey, hey! You said you were all ears right? Don't go throwin’ a wobbly on me now! Just listen okay? I’m trying to save your life!” He frantically begged, walking towards you slowly with bent knees and a tilt of his head, trying his absolute hardest to not come across as a threat. You weren’t having it.
You got close, “You can go to hell with your weird conspiracies about my Master and I! I-I’ll never believe you—you don’t even know me!” You yelled your fists up defensively. You felt weak and angry with your gear useless, and you didn’t exactly expect a deep discussion about your life and what it might or might not be,
“I do though, Y/N. That’s…that’s what I’m trying to get at here.” He states, not once taking his eyes off you. He watches as your eyes flicker wide open, your guard faltering for only a moment. You stand there stunned, the silence of midnight surrounding both of you, until you finally have the courage to speak up,
“Is…that how you know my name?” You state the obvious. You know the answer, but you want him to be the one to say it.
“Yes, because what i’m telling you is the truth. Your Master, they used to be an officer until I came around and fought against the police force…one day, there was an attack from a villain force and I couldn’t save their closest friend…but from what they saw, it looked as though their blood was on my hands. They changed overnight—quitting the force and becoming the worst villain overlord of this city. They built their own empire, and they bought you. You and the rest of their army, you’re all captives who were brainwashed and robbed of your lives.” He finishes, full of anticipation as he looks at you.
There’s a long silence, as you take it all in. You don’t know what to say to do for a while, internally struggling on if you even believe his words or not…but the longer you think about it…you’re sad to admit the more sense it starts to make.
You don’t remember having any sort of childhood, no matter how hard you thought, and you’ve only ever known your Master and their orders on how you should live your life. You were lost in thought, puzzle pieces slowly fitting together, and Spiderpunk just watched you patiently. You thought about how he looked at you, how he refused to hurt you, and how he seemed to genuinely mean every word he said…It was too much to take in all at once.
“I’m sorry, I-I can’t.” You stammer out, your voice cracking as you back up. Your wings crackle with burning fire. He doesn’t follow you, just stands still as you walk backwards, then turn and fly off. The wind whistles as you fly home faster than you ever have in your life, your thoughts racing a mile a minute with every flap of your wings. Hobie watches you fly off into the sparkly night sky like a burning shooting star, sighing in relief.
—
That night opened your eyes, and nothing was the same between you and your Master since. You pulled back and unintentionally started acting cold, now you were afraid they were noticing. They had been randomly gifting you things or spending time with you, a lot more than they ever do. You were starting to feel incredibly uncomfortable and anxious as the days went on, and strangely, you decided you wanted to clear some things up with Spiderpunk—you just needed to find a way to sneak out without your Master noticing with all their excessive hovering over you these days.
It was dawn, and you had just finished the dinner that they insisted you have with them. Your Master had finished eating and was now cleaning both your dishes when you quietly headed to the door and slipped on your jacket,
“Going somewhere?” They asked questioningly, not turning from their spot at the sink but still instilling nausea in you from their tone alone. You hesitated for a second, then slipped on your shoes,
“Just going on a walk.”
“Right after eating? Shouldn’t you give it an hour or two?” They pressured.
“I’d rather walk while it’s still relatively light out, I won’t be gone long.” You countered carefully, trying to keep the peace the best you could. You reached for the door handle, your back turned to them when you heard the water shut off, footsteps, and then felt their arms around you, turning you into their embrace. It was uncomfortably silent, and their hands suddenly tightening on your jacket felt horrible,
“I know you’ve been lying to me.” They murmured, their grip strong as they feel your body go rigid for a moment. You stall. They release you and stare coldy,
“I-I don’t know what you’re-“ The hardest slap you’ve ever felt lands across your face and cuts you off. It burns like hell and leaves your head blank for a moment. You look down only to get your eyes forced upwards from a pressuring grip on your jaw,
“You know you can’t keep secrets from me…I will figure out what you’ve been doing, my Firefly, and you won’t like it.” They grumbled, pushing you outside and slamming the door.
—
There had to be at least five cops chasing after as you careened around the block, all having yelled at you when you raced out of a small jewelry store with hands full of anything shiny and expensive looking that you could loop around your fingers. You zoomed down the dark street and caught a myriad of unfortunate obstacles ablaze in your wake. You were trying to cause as much of a scene as humanly possible—It was working.
You turned to look behind your shoulder right as Spiderpunk swung down towards you, one hand high above his head and the other swinging a web straight for your abdomen. When you were about to redirect your focus ahead of you, you’re left with no time to process your masked ‘rival’ headed straight for you before pulling you up into the sky with him. A scream tears out of your throat from shock and you can’t move as your body is pulled through the sky, golden rings and necklaces spilling from your fingers. The loud hollering of Spiderpunk is echoing around you before he pulls you onto a rooftop, both of you rolling onto the building. He grunts and pants, looking at you as he lays on his side, propped up on his elbow,
“How’s my favorite little villain doin huh? Long time no see…I was starting to miss your pretty mask.” He pulled you towards him by his webs like Scorpion, before tearing it when you were close enough, “Was there a reason you caused such a dilemma down there or did ya just miss me?” He smirks, pretending to run a hand through his hair. He was clearly in a good mood today.
You sigh, full of emotions and slightly bothered by his over-the-top entrance and flirty behavior, “There’s a reason, asshole…I need to talk to you.” You confess, sitting up in a comfortable position while he mirrors you, leaning his head in his hands. He stays silent and only nods, allowing you to continue,
“I thought about what you said—all of it. Things weren’t the same when I woke up that next morning. I still don’t trust you but I don’t really hate you the way I used to…because of what you said I sorta started to think for myself. I came to see you today to ask you a couple of questions and maybe get some answers?” You whispered, voice soft as you looked into his masked face. The moonlit night was cold and dark. It left you shivering with a sense of anxiety squeezing at your lungs. He nodded once more, leaning in,
“What can your friendly neighborhood spiderman do for you?” He asked with an audible smiled, trying to ease your obvious distress.
“Who was I?” You blurted out.
He shuddered, expecting the question but still feeling underprepared for it. He exhaled through a buzz of his lips and clicked his tongue a couple of times,
“That’s a difficult question, doll. To put it simply, you’re a normal girl who was supposed to live a normal life with her normal parents—they were some of the many that were killed by the multiple heinous villains that terrorized London a few years ago. You weren’t too much younger than me when you were forced into a hostage situation by the killers, soon after you were sold. I couldn’t save you all before the brainwashing, and I couldn’t get to you like this until…now.” He admitted. He felt sympathy knowing that you were sitting in front of him, probably feeling as though you were suffering the consequences of his incompetence—but the thought never crossed your mind. You just wished you knew that girl, the one who was robbed of her normal life, but you felt that moping was useless,
“Well, what can I do? I mean i’ve basically learned that my whole life isn’t at all what I think it has been and i’ve been chasing after the one person who was kind enough to tell me the truth-“
“You didn’t know any better.” He corrected, “I tried to go easy on you…couldn’t bring myself to fight such a sweet, misguided, girl.” He admitted genuinely.
“I am so stunned…I mean I never thought you’d be able to be this close or say these things to me without attacking you.” You teased, looking at the way his eyes scrunch up and his knees come close in a laugh, “I…I don’t know how to thank you. All I’ve done has been attacking you every chance I got because my Master painted you out to be some threat. I never thought for myself until you told me the truth, and now you’re being so nice to me, Spiderpunk.” You sighed.
Suddenly, he shifted before reaching his hands up to his neck and pulling his mask off, revealing his identity to you. The newly unmasked Spiderpunk shook his hair slightly, and looked at your still masked face as you took in every detail of him. He had deep brown skin, messy wicks, plump lips, a big nose with a ring on the side, deep set eyes complimented with pierced eyebrows and high cheekbones. He had the face of a model and it was no surprise that that effected your ability to breathe for a moment,
“You can call me Hobie.” He said with a cheeky tone at your silence, leaning back, “And you don’t have to thank me, just glad I could help.” He answered. He looked at you solemnly, his heart warming at the idea of helping you. “But you can at least make us equal and share a taste of your secret identity.” He winks, leaning in eagerly.
You roll your eyes and trail your hands up to your own mask, removing it and watching as his eyes scan you in the low lighting, taking in your appearance. You expected something different than what you got, your stomach dropping at the sudden look of shock on his face. You felt anxiety well up in a matter of seconds before he speaks,
“Who did this?” His deep voice lingers in the air and you’re left with no time to process his words, his hands that were reaching for you stuttering when you flinch, “Y/N, who hurt you?” He asks you, stern but gentle, looking into your eyes with his large hands gently on either side of your head to examine the red blistering slap mark. You can’t even respond, your mouth open but no words coming out. You both know the answer.
Hobie knew there was a possibility your Master was hurting you, but this just confirmed it and left him feeling inexplicably enraged.
“I’m sorry, I-“
“Why are you apologizing? You have no reason to be sorry, If I had known I…I would have stopped this a lot sooner.” He whispered, gaze soft as he instinctively holds your head to his chest, almost motherly.
You just try to focus on stabilizing your breathing, the comforting hold new and strange to you. You never would have expected this, that’s for sure.
Time goes by, Hobie allowing you to sit in front of him again while you eventually talk about your relationship with your Master. It’s difficult, and Hobie has to thank his lucky stars for his ability to remain expressionless, because if not, he probably would have cried or thrown up several times. It becomes emotional for you as you wrap up, Hobie feeling his gut twist at the sight,
“It’s alright. I-I’m not going to let you be in that place much longer. I’m going to stop them okay? I’ll be helping you out of there soon.” He spoke clearly, his hands on your shoulders to keep steady eye contact. You felt uneasy at the idea of your Master and your unsteady relationship. You didn’t want to see them hurt but you knew that how they had treated you all these years was wrong, especially if what Hobie said was true. It was conflicting, and you were scared. You tried your hardest to trust Hobie, but you had only just opened up to him…so could you really? Was it safe?
“Okay…bye, Hobie’.” Was all you said before you parted, disappearing into the dark of the night. Hobie plotted, swinging far behind after a lot of careful thought and a ton of unusual hyperactivity from his spidey-senses.
—
The door creaked louder than it usually does—just your luck. You cursed as you held the handle all the way twisted until it was in the frame, manually twisting it back into place to keep the house silent. You were on a mission, and it couldn’t wait. You walked your way into the basement and into your Master’s secret laboratory. This was where they kept all of their ‘work stuff.’ You had never cared about anything in the dingy and dark room until now…you never knew any of it would pertain to you. You sifted though their stuff, everything seemingly kosher until a file, stuffed in the back of the lowest cabinet of their desk with the bold printed letters ‘Y/N L/N’ splattered over it in red ink called to you among all the other tan files. You wasted zero time in pulling it out and investigating. The file was full of information about you—things that you didn’t even know about yourself; the day you were bought, the chemical makeup of your fucked-up genes, and the day that you were…no…that couldn’t be right…the day that you were supposed to die? Your heart stopped. You read the date over and over again, adrenaline rushing through your body and pumping blood straight to your head. You couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t see, couldn’t think. Your Master horrifyingly lingered in the doorway, watching as you trembled in unbridled terror. Why the fuck did you have a pre-determined death date? You tore your gaze off the paper, looking up and jumping when you saw, to you absolute dismay, your ‘Master.’
“Y/N. I’ve heard that you made a new friend! Is that right, my little Firefly?” Your master seethed through their sickening smile. You had never seen them this angry…it terrified you, but your adrenaline was stronger than your fear.
“I know who you are…and…I know who I am. You’re a sick person, and you’ve been lying to me my whole life!” You yelled, defensively staring them down with as fierce of a face as you could muster, “You destroyed the person that I’m supposed to be! You bought me out of a hostage situation to build your own suck army! Worst of all, you have a predetermined death date for me? What the fuck do I look like, perishable goods?” You scream.
“Quit acting dumb, child. If you were smart enough to understand maybe you wouldn’t be so angry at your loving Master. I did what I did to give you a life worth living. I made you who I made you at the cost of your life span shortening. Would you rather live a long, boring, and sad life with no parents and no purpose? Or would you rather life a fulfilling life with me?” They spat, anger present in their red eyes.
“I would rather die than live with you any longer. Spiderpunk told me the truth and I believed him because it makes sense! He was the first person to ever let me think for myself! He has never hurt me the way that you have!” Screaming, you threw the file onto the ground, the contents spilling out at your Master’s feet and your wings burning hot. Embers flicked across the room, catching small things on fire. Your Master had had enough.
“Is that so? And what exactly do you intend on doing with that information, hm? Run away from the loving,“ they flip the desk as it begins to burn, sending wood and fire all over as they come closer, “supportive,” they slam their fist into your side and kick your feet out from under you, “family that I’ve pioneered for you? You’d leave that all behind to follow a brain-dead, arachnid, anarchist who killed my loved ones?!” They scream, pulling you by your wrist out of the office and into the basement, shoving you down onto your stomach and crawling onto of you harshly. Your wings were as intense as your emotions—your horror, sadness, and anger all causing the flames to burn unusually hot and wildly—but your Master didn’t care. All they saw was red.
“You know what happens when you go against my rules, Y/N. How dare you do the one thing I specifically instructed you against.” They snapped, tears pooling out of your eyes as you struggled to breathe. Your eyes shot open as you heard their hisses in pain and felt their hands tighten around the base of your blazing wings. Your heart raced as fire embers flung around the room and you felt a sharp tugging, triggering you into screaming uncontrollably,
“No! No! Please, stop it! Master, I’m sorry! please d-don’t! What are you doing?! I’m-I’m sorry, please!” You screamed, feeling the extension of your body being torn out of your spine, uselessly screaming in agony. You were kicking and crying as you felt the most uncomfortable pain you had ever felt in your life. You were helpless, the room around you catching on fire as your powers go haywire. You didn’t know who to call, but the one name you knew started spilling from your lips,
“Hobie! Hobie please help me!” You cried, voice cracking and hoarse as the building rapidly started to burn. Your master brought their heel up digging it into your lower back as leverage as they grunted and pulled, fueled on your screams alone. You let out one last scream of Hobie’s name before it all faded to black.
—
Hobie had no idea where he should be looking for you, never having located your Master’s new hideout. He relied completely on his senses, a game of ‘hotter’ and ‘colder.’ He raced around like a madman, ignoring the excited screams of “It’s spiderpunk!” However, soon the screams became about a fire, and his senses were overwhelmed with a buzzing feeling. He snapped out of it and looked down to see a house on fire, mentally battling on if he should continue searching for you or deal with the house fire, opting for the latter. When he Hobie leapt down, he got a sinking feeling that he had found you.
He tore through the burning building, groups of familiar villains racing out of the doors and windows. He kept low and crawled like a spider when he heard a broken scream of his name, so pained and so desperate. He nearly tripped down the burning basement stairs and took in the horrific scenery.
Your blood was all over the floor, surrounding (what Hobie prayed was) your unconscious body. Your Master was panting, and holding your bloody, fleshy, wings. They had never looked this truly evil, staring down at you with no remorse until they noticed Hobie’s presence,
“Spiderpunk.” They stated, tossing your wings into the calmed with burning with rage,
“I think it’s time for our long overdue last dance, ‘Master.’” Hobie grumbled, circling them.
“I thought you’d never ask.” They smiled, chucking a knife from their belt at his head, watching as he expertly dodges it and maneuvers around the collapsing room combating with bloodshed heavy on his mind. There’s a symphony of punches and stabs, Hobie was growing bloody and angry. He was kicked into the fire his face whacking across a burning plank and causing him to cry out. Hobie shook his head and screamed, lunging at them,
“I’m gonna make you wish you never payed your hands on her.” Hobie grunted, his grip tightening around their throat as they desperately tried to pull him off. All Hobie could think about was what he could have done to save you all these years; if he had known the torture you were enduring at their hands he would have helped you sooner. He knew the whole time that it was doomed, but he didn’t know how to save you.
Hobie felt a crunch, and he snapped out of it, finding himself on top of your Masters now dead body. he pulled his hands back, wiping them off on his jeans and spitting down on the corpse of your abuser. Turning rapidly to scoop you into his arms and burst out of the burning building. The fire department was there, and ready to take care of it, but Hobie needed to get you as far away as possible.
—
There was the sound of the city below, and the rushing of wind above, but there was nothing in between. You felt nothing; just coming to and completely delirious. Your head spun as you looked down on London, watching droplets of blood fall from…your body? Were you bleeding? You suddenly became aware of the familiar deep mumbling above your head and the secure arms that held you tightly. You looked down at the red suit and black leather worn by who held you and pieced it all together, albeit slowly; you were in your rival’s arms, bleeding out as he was web slinging through the sky. You groaned, growing privy of the injures that you didn't know you had, immediately feeling Hobie’s arms tighten,
“It's okay, you're gonna be okay.” You heard his deep voice faintly, sounding panicked and far away. You squirmed, wincing and crying out,
You couldn't feel your wings—and it all came back to you. Your ‘Master’ had pulled them completely out of your body, and now you had never felt so light in your entire life. There were gaping holes in your back, and cuts that littered your skin from your struggle. You felt robbed, but oddly, you felt free. However, nothing could compare to, above all, how much pain you were in. You clung to Hobie, becoming aware that you’d have no way to support yourself if you were to fall, but Hobie held you tightly, telling you he would never drop you without saying a single word.
He landed somewhere unfamiliar, carrying you through a window with an odd amount of calculated grace. He set you down on what you assumed was his carpet, and you didn’t realize he was currently in front of you, helping you onto your stomach. You took his hand and allowed him to help you, gasping and whimpering when your entire body hurt.
“Easy, love, m’gonna take care of ya.” He whispers. He tears your shirt clean off, beginning to clean your wounds,
“Ah! Hobie!” You mumble, wincing.
“I know, I know, it’s gonna hurt love m’sorry.” He says in the most soothing voice he can.
He bandaged your cuts, and he feels his heart sink with every pained noise you make, watching you fiddle with his carpet to take your mind off of how it all feels. When he’s finished, he slips a clean shirt over you and he scoops you up—laying you down on his soft couch.
“Your wounds are deep love, but they’re not unsalvageable. Give it time and you’ll be feeling as good as new.” Hobie smiled softly. He was covered in blood, ash, and grime, but no one had ever looked as beautiful as he did in that moment. He pulled the blanket off the back of his couch, draping in over you and tucking it in gently,
“I am truly sorry for everything, doll.” He said suddenly with raw emotion taking over. You looked up at him confused,
“Don’t…don’t be sorry, Hobie. You…you saved my life.” You murmured, exhausted and pained.
He softly smiled at you, his eyes full of sadness as he forced himself to get up off his knees by your side,
“Well, i’ll be in the other room love, just holler if you-“
“Wait!” You interrupt. He stops abruptly, turning to look at you with confusion present on his face, scanning over you and taking note of the space you made in front of you on the couch,
“I don’t want to be alone.”
And with that, Hobie feels his heart break. Your voice sounded so fragile and meek, and he never wanted to hear it sound that way ever again. He would feel horrible holding you in his state, but he would feel worse if he said no to you. Reluctantly, he walks over to you, unties his shoes, and lays down with you, holding you close and gently running his hands up and down the bandages.
You didn’t understand how your whole life could change in a matter of days—going from hating Spiderpunk with every fiber of your being, to being genuinely afraid of him not being in the same room as you. But…he’s the one who saved you. This whole time, he was the only one who truly cared, and you felt so blind to have not seen it. He held you closer, lost deeply in his own thoughts. Hobie’s mind raced with thoughts of your safety, and specifically the death date in your files.
He decided he would worry about that another day, and for now, he would hold you closer.
#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown#hobie brown angst#hobie spiderverse#across the spiderverse#spiderman#spider punk#hobie brown smut#hobie brown fluff#Spotify#silly’s fics
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Mortal Kombat Deity! AU: The Demigods
Part One to introducing the characters of my Deity! AU is the demigods. Turns out they were a little easier to create the foundations for than I thought. I’m working on the gods’ foundations at the moment so hopefully they’ll be up soon too.
Raiden, the Lightning Rod.
His focus: an amulet gifted to him by Liu Kang.
Raiden is a member of a group called “Defenders of Earthrealm”, who task themselves with keeping threats to the mortal plane at bay at the request of the gods who patron them.
Soft spoken and diplomatic, he’d rather try to talk things out first before zapping them to a crisp with his electrical powers.
Kung Lao, the Shaolin Great
His focus: a sharp-edged hat he made himself.
Kung Lao joined the Defenders of Earthrealm at the same time as Raiden, wanting to live up to his family’s legacy as a clan of great fighters and guardians.
He makes and maintains his own equipment and weapons after an incident that involved an ill-made piece of equipment and a prank that went too far; he has a scar on his stomach from this that only Raiden has seen (he knows the story behind it, too).
Johnny Cage, the Walk of Famer
His focus: a pair of expensive sunglasses.
A tech whiz, Johnny supplies and maintains the Defenders’ technology; he gets the supplies through his connections in Hollywood, amongst other places.
He prefers to hide how intelligent he is by cracking bad jokes and innuendos to make him appear air-headed; he likes to draw in his opponents with his charms and then go for the uppercut.
Kenshi Takahashi, the Spirit Caller
His focus: a family sword called Sento.
After being blinded during his service to the Yakuza, Kenshi uses the power of his ancestors residing in Sento to move around a space and fight his enemies; Liu Kang’s demigod blessing amplified his power.
He claims that Johnny irritates him to no end, but he knows that without his noise Kenshi would likely have not joined the Defenders and remained with the Yakuza.
Mileena, the Firstborn Guardian
Her focus: her royal mask.
As the first-born daughter of the Goddess of Judgement and Protection, Sindel, Mileena has a condition called Tarkat which causes facial deformities and an uncontrollable urge to eat human flesh. (No one, not even the Eon, know why or how this occurs to the first-born children only.)
She is fiercely protective of her sister and girlfriend; she is the embodiment of Sindel’s guardian virtue as Empress of the mortal plane.
Kitana, the Royal Butterfly
Her focus: her dual fan weapons.
While she’s beautiful and she’s aware of it, Kitana isn’t afraid to get bloody to protect those she considers close to her - currently, that is only her family.
When she isn’t fighting, dealing with court politics or assisting Mileena with her daily duties, she can often be found by herself engrossed in a book (when they were children, she used to read to Mileena after her Tarkat episodes to help calm her down).
#mortal kombat#mk1 2023#storywriting#johnny cage#kenshi takahashi#kung lao#raiden#mileena#kitana#mortal kombat au#deity au#the guardian’s writing#these are just foundations#there’s plenty of room for fleshing these out#mortal kombat imagine
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I’m still on the YR subreddit from time to time, and I think someone there may have found the real life inspiration that led Lisa Ambjorn to create the series. They posted some very interesting info about a real-life elite Swedish boarding school called Lundsberg Skola that got shut down (temporarily, alas) in 2013 for severe physical abuse.
The Swedish Schools Inspectorate had repeatedly investigated Lundsberg Skola before over similar claims, but its incredibly influential alumni network had managed to keep it from being shut down until 2013, when the Schools Inspectorate declared that students were not safe there, and must all be removed. It’s educated multiple Swedish royals.
Lundsberg was allowed to reopen after firing their headmaster and instituting new anti-bullying policies. They’re still open, still charging insane tuition fees, and the Swedish elite are still sending their kids there despite well-documented abuses and decades upon decades of rumours about brutal bullying to which the staff turn a blind eye until a victim has to be hospitalized, the hospital notifies the police, and the media find out.
I’m a little skeptical that a new headmaster and a shiny new policy will actually make a dent in a culture of violence that goes back to 1896. Call me a cynic. And it’s insane that people are actually still paying to send their kids to this place that, in the Guardian article, an anonymous student described as “Lord of the Flies”. You’d think a simple Google search would have parents running for the hills.
Here’s the article from 2013 announcing the shutdown. Interestingly, the shutdown happened because of anonymous complaints from existing students about abuse the staff ignore. The article suggests the children of nouveau riche parents might be less loyal to the Lundsberg system than the children of old money families, where multiple generations have attended, and everyone considers the brutality and the culture of silence normal.
Here’s the Wikipedia page in English. Check out the list of alumni, which includes a bunch of Swedish royalty:
And here’s the link to the original Reddit post. The Reddit post also includes a link to a Spotify podcast about Lundsberg. I didn’t link to that because I haven’t listened to it. The Guardian article and Wikipedia were bad enough.
Here’s also a link to the school’s official website, but it’s all in Swedish. I clicked through a few promotional pictures of shiny students and shiny buildings. Every teenager I saw looked happy, like they weren’t in Lord of the Flies. And every single teenager in the photos I saw was white. I didn’t do an exhaustive search, though.
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KNY Hashira Shitpost; Merfolk AU
You see! I watched the live action of “the Little Mermaid” yesterday and wanted to change the Hashira into merpeople so ya!
The Hashira
Under the phrase “Hashira”, nine merpeople are the personal guardians of the Royal Ubuyashiki family and the kingdom the Ubuyashikis rule from dangerous life like sharks, eels, serpent/octopus monsters, etc.
The Hashira use weapons like katanas and staffs to fend off these threats. Three of the Hashira use different weapons for their own comfortability
The Hashira guard the kingdom at night and kill those creatures to ensure the merpeople race aren’t further killed
All merpeople have hydrokinetic magic powered by lunar energy. Through moonstone pendants, they can bend water, control sealife and alternate swimming speeds
Sea monsters’ magic is ten times stronger than merpeople, but have a bigger mental affect. Darkness corrupts their mindsets quicker
Tomioka Giyuu
Giyuu is a cobalt blue zebrafish merman
Spends a lot of his spare time collecting rare ores and shells to make them into gifts to give to Tanjiro and Nezuko
Giyuu has his own private cave, that basically all the Hashira plus the Royal family don’t know about. He can get away from socialisation and recollect himself in silence
Kocho Shinobu
Shinobu is a teardrop butterflyfish merwoman
Cleans up toxic waste with the butterfly girls in her free time, for all to be recycled into poisons she uses in her missions
Shinobu can’t stand being above the seawater for too long, the sun is too hot and the air makes her skin feel itchy. She is very petty with her needs
Kyojuro Rengoku
Kyojuro is a firefish goby merman
Gathers and brings back round troubled sealife to the sea. He feels required to make sure the innocent beings of the waters are safe
Kyojuro spends pretty much all his free time with his little brother, sightseeing the land people at the beach
Tengen Uzui
Tengen is a mandarinfish merman
His overall style is so flamboyant and over-the-top, that most are blinded by the mere sight of him
Tengen, with his excellently-singing wives, create music for the underwater kingdom and hosts his own music club
Tokito Muichiro
Muichiro is a transparent surgeon fish merman
Gets lost so often that the Hashira have to drench his tail in sticking glowing dust to track him down more easily
Muichiro always runs into those dangerous creatures like sharks and octopus, but ends up playing with them
Kanroji Mitsuri
Mitsuri is a bubblegum pink betta fish merwoman
Loves decorating tails and hairs of her fellow merwomen and is very skilled at the art. She can groom tails in a few minutes tops
Mitsuri has a incredibly beautiful singing voice and makes up random catchy songs on the fly to sing as she swims
Gyomei Himejima
Gyomei is a stonefish monster+gray snapper merman hybrid
This merbeing hybrid can easily withstand the pressure of the deeper waters and studies the sea life deeper below
Gyomei has very poisonous spines all over his tail so he has to be very weary of contact with other merpeople
Shinazugawa Sanemi
Sanemi is a blackwing flying fish merman
A very speedy swimmer and can make a gliding jump for 350m at a time. His sleek tail and fins help double his speed
Sanemi spends lot of his time tracking down threats to take care of them, even outside of his duty as a Hashira, since it’s fun to him
Iguro Obanai
Obanai is a banded sea serpent monster+swordtail fish merman hybrid
Uses his magic a lot as it’s a effective way to restrain the enemies, but eventually has to be restrained himself until that mental effect disappears
Obanai covers his mouth with special seaweed and has it as precaution bandages, incase he comes across a injured being
#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#anime and manga#kny imagines#kny hashira#headcanons#iguro obanai#obanai iguro#kanroji mitsuri#mitsuri kanroji#tokito muichiro#muichiro tokito#tomioka giyuu#giyuu tomioka#himejima gyomei#gyomei himejima#uzui tengen#tengen uzui#kocho shinobu#shinobu kocho#rengoku kyojuro#kyojuro rengoku#merfolk au#mermaid au
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The Crown's Investor
Jax and Bertilak ambled through the weathered entrance of the diminutive ancient temple, its timeworn façade a testament to the passage of ages. Restored under the careful eye of its recent custodian, the temple bore signs of rejuvenation amidst its age-old architecture.
As the duo ventured further into the temple's depths, the guardians stationed within ushered them towards a secluded chamber, hidden away from prying eyes. With each step, the air grew heavy with anticipation, a palpable sense of intrigue guiding their path.
Upon crossing the threshold into the chamber, their gaze fell upon an unexpected sight: their elusive "investor" reclining in a bath, the scene juxtaposing the solemnity of the temple's surroundings with an air of casual luxury.
In the depths of the tub, reclined Vermillion Raddock, his demeanor exuding an air of serene detachment. A rouge Huntsman by trade, he had once called Mistral his home, yet now found solace amidst the shifting sands of Vacuo. Renowned as a figure of both dread and awe, his name reverberated through the annals of Southern Vacuo's history as one of unparalleled notoriety.
Throughout a decade, few could rival Vermillion's prowess in the art of death. His hands, stained crimson with the blood of countless adversaries, bore witness to the extent of his lethal capabilities. But it was not merely his physical prowess that inspired fear; it was the manifestation of his Semblance that truly set him apart.
In his undertakings, Vermillion consistently veiled himself behind the guise of a boar, concealing the essence of a seasoned 50-year-old man beneath. With a complexion weathered by years of life's trials, his brown skin bore scars, a testament to the harshness of his existence.
Atop his head, a close-cropped mane of red-greyish hair spoke of both maturity and resilience, complemented by a rugged array of facial hair. But it was his eyes, a vivid crimson reminiscent of freshly spilled blood, that captivated onlookers, while a scar etched defiantly across his nose hinted at battles fought and conquered.
Despite his age, Vermillion remained undeterred by the passing of time. As a seasoned warrior, he had weathered countless battles and witnessed the depths of human strife, rendering him an intimidating force whom none dared to challenge.
"You wanted to see us, Vermillion?" he inquired, his voice laced with authority.
Vermillion, reclining in the tub with an air of nonchalance, lifted his head at Jax's address. A sly grin danced across his lips as he met Jax's piercing stare. "Ah, the illustrious king graces us with his presence," Vermillion quipped, amusement coloring his tone. "And how fares the expansion of our forces under your esteemed leadership?"
"They are my forces," Jax corrected sharply. "You may fund me and my organization, but make no mistake—they are my people. I brought them together with a singular purpose: to defend Vacuo."
"Is that so?" Vermillion's tone was laced with disdain as he eyed Jax with a mixture of skepticism and amusement. "Do those followers of yours, who grovel and worship at your feet, realize that you're not cut from royal cloth?"
Jax's gaze hardened, his resolve unshaken by Vermillion's barbs. "I may lack the lineage of a true king, but Vacuo is in dire need of leadership if it is to withstand the looming threat," he asserted firmly.
Vermillion's expression shifted, a flicker of genuine interest dancing in his eyes amidst his lingering smirk. "Oh~? And what manner of peril do you believe threatens our beloved Vacuo?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued by Jax's proclamation.
Jax's derisive snort echoed through the chamber, a tangible manifestation of his frustration. "Even a blind man can see the writing on the wall. Someone's tearing through the kingdoms like a rabid beast," he declared with a note of urgency. "Vale's already fallen, Haven's been hit, and Atlas? They're cowering behind their walls like scared children. If we want to come out of this alive, we need to stand together under a leader worth a damn."
Vermillion regarded Jax with a quirked eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. "And ya fancy yourself that leader? The savior of Vacuo?" he prodded, his smirk widening.
Jax's chin lifted defiantly. "Damn right," he shot back without hesitation. "Isn't that why you threw your weight behind The Crown? Because you saw in me what Vacuo needs?"
A smile played at the corners of Vermillion's lips, though it held more cunning than agreement. "You catch on quick, kid," he conceded, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "You're exactly the kind of leader Vacuo's been yearning for," he assured Jax, the truth of his intentions hidden behind a mask of false encouragement.
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Been a long while since I last posted any Pokémon Fusions with custom Dex entries...
So, with the Infinite Fusion fangame as popular as it is and this website on the rise to go with it, I figured I'd update some of my older entries + at least one fresh face, more or less.
Pipquil, the Porcupine Pokémon
Water/Fire- Type
Pipquil are warm-blooded, yet live in the harsh, frigid north and south poles. To compensate for their environment, they frequently let loose bursts of small flames from their backs, keeping themselves and others warm all year around. However, these flames are known to occasionally melt icebergs, which can cause Pipquil to drop into the frigid water and become prey for any nearby Beartic and Walrein.
Prinlava, the Prince Pokémon
Water/Fire- Type
These Pokémon live in tight nit communities known as Trials, where they frequently hold competitions over leadership and loyalty. The Prinlava with the largest and most impressive plumage of flame is considered the strongest, and will occasionally fight with the strongest member of other Trials. The Trial leader that wins the fight will then have the loser's trial absorbed, allowing the community to grow.
Empophlosion, the King Pokémon
Water/Fire- Type
Sarcastic and often unsympathetic, Empophlosion battle for territory by clashing and attempting to break each other's crowns. The fire that erupts from their neck is a sign of age, with healthy flames being a brilliant red and orange, while weak, sick or dying Empophlosions only emit plumes of dark smoke seen for miles around.
Lardour, the White Wolf Pokémon
Bug/Fire- Type
While small in stature, this Pokémon is fiercely loyal and will leap into action if it senses its trainer is in distress. The red bands around Lardour’s ankles and on its back often create sparks when it’s agitated, and jets of flame will erupt from the emblem on its forehead when its rage has reached a critical point.
Volcadoom, the Guardian Pokémon
Bug/Fire- Type
With age and evolution, Volcadoom's protective instincts have only grown stronger, though not to the point of overreaction. It acts as a machine of vengeance, often purposefully nudging and guiding its trainer along on a certain path so that the pair can enact vigilante justice when night falls. When enraged, its horns merge into a flaming sword whos burns scar and scorn the wicked and ill of heart for all time.
Honedinja, the Sword Beetle Pokémon
Ghost/Steel- Type
A legendary blacksmith who perished at the blade of an enraged deity is said to be the origins of this Pokémon. It wanders the land like a samurai, using the blade embedded in its back to cut down any who do not earn its respect. Those who do will earn a steadfast ally for life.
Doubinja, the Twin Blades Beetle Pokémon
Ghost/Steel- Type
Doubinja’s sword has been split into a pair. Any that it meet will be given one sword while Doubinja itself shall wield the other as they challenge one another in a duel of honor. Legends say that no Doubinja has ever lost.
Aeginja, the Royal Beetle Pokémon
Ghost/Steel- Type
The twin swords it once carried have now been fused together and become part of its body, where once they only sat before. This allows Aeginja to be wielded by humans and other Pokémon alike as a weapon whilst in combat. However, it can only be wielded by those it deems worthy or had earned its respect in the past. An unworthy person or Pokémon will have their soul removed and consumed, making Aeginja's blade ever-sharper.
Zekroudon, the Omega Storm Pokémon
Ground/Electric- Type
Little is truly known of this Legendary Pokémon, aside from a handful of ancient texts in both Hoenn and Unova that states that, when the Original Dragon split apart, one of its pieces became blinded by an ancient fury, its armor glowing red hot and razed the earth with lightning that brought on a drought for six years straight.
#pokemon fusion#pokemon infinite fusion#piplup#prinplup#empoleon#cyndaquil#quilava#typhlosion#houndour#houndoom#larvesta#volcarona#shedinja#honedge#doublade#aegislash#zekrom#groudon
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I am fascinated by the Skywing elf holding the coronet wearing a blindfold, and its implications re: the justice or nature of the justice of Aaravos' imprisonment and what that means regarding Harrow's choice to take the blindfold, out of Lady Justice's implements. Do you have any thoughts on this?
I'm very very curious as to why Skywing elves specifically, and if they'll be almost Valkyrie-esque inspired with the Startouch elves having their quasi-Valhalla. There is also extremely old concept art out there in which Aaravos' design was very different (no long white flowing locks and I forget if elves had horns yet) with almost priest-like robes and a blindfold:
Which, given the parallels between Harrow and Aaravos to begin with from a thematic standpoint, and Harrow's emphasis on the blindfold, is probably noteworthy. We also see another blindfolded elf with horns that form an almost broken looking halo on the Star chart map:
The Startouch elves are already seen as gods, to a degree ("Have our Gods died? Where do the fabled Great Ones hide?") and Lady Justice is indeed the closest thing to a religious figure (deity or otherwise) that we see Katolis have. It wouldn't surprise me if the Startouch elves are so removed from like, mortality (and indeed, S5 confirmed they are seemingly pretty damn Immortal) that they're completely indifferent to the plight of everyone else, under the guise of being 'impartial' and therefore fair judges. Aaravos' first short story supports this as well (although he is, of course, a biased source like any other):
The stars, after all, had no interest in the lives of mortals. The stars are arrogant, blinded by their own incandescent light. As though nothing else in all the universe could burn so brightly, so beautifully! As though nothing else could be so cruel!
The Skywing elves we do see in something other than nomadic lifestyles (Nyx or generally in Tales of Xadia) are Ibis and the other Dragonguard, who although fled, both served the Draconic Royal family (and Ibis unto death). This makes me wonder if the Celestial Elves are like, a group of Skywing elves chasing this idea of Freedom and complete detachment from the world, which they see the Startouch elves as having succeeded (transcending mortal existence/bounds and all that) and aspire to. Something like a self appointed Dragonguard / a sort of Lujanne esque guardian to watch over whatever the Starscraper holds for the Startouch elves (and they may have lost a Quasar Diamond along the way?) and to "uphold" Startouch ways, as it were. Which like - at a certain point you can't be impartial without being neglectful and therefore cruel, so... We'll see where that goes.
For more thoughts on Lady Justice / King Harrow / Ezran, you may like this oneshot I wrote forever ago here <3
#hermitmoss#worldbuilding#s6 speculation#thanks for asking#predictions#s6#arc 2#tdp#the dragon prince#eye motif#deep lore dive#requests#mini meta#analysis series
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A Mer and his Man-Promptio-Digital
#it's mermay in November ok#older prompto#prompto x gladio#promptio#prompto argentum#oracle gladio#gladio amicitia#merman#blind royal guardian#digital sketch#digital art#teach a man to fish and he'll find a reason to go fishing more often
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muses most to least impulsive
Out of the first gen kids:
Kawiil
Kaz
Andie
Jazz
Matt
Yana
Pearl
Out of the grandkids:
Amara
Simon
Lucus
Maria
No you haven't met Simon or Maria because I keep delaying refiguring out the other parent of them and updating their designs.
#[Mail Time]#!chaos child#!adventure time#!golden future#!best thief#!jazz hands#!future guardian#!sol princess#!teleporting royal#!blind prince
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WIP Intro: Titan Modern AU
Genres- Low Fantasy, Modern Setting, buddy-cop drama and shenanigans,
Themes- found family, cultural adjustments, fighting against injustices, breaking the veil, fictional politics
Synopsis: Constable Meredith Gruksdottir of the Stronghold Guardian Corps division for the Kingdom of Fangthane has screwed up. Royally. A bust gone wrong has led to her immediate transfer away from her home city to work in the Fangthane Consulate of Toreguarde.
While working her way back up from the bottom of the barrel, Meredith ends up literally bumping into Detective Elowyn O'Toreguarde while the latter is investigating the notorious Grimebeard Gang, who are suspected of attempting to assassinate the ruling Council of Toreguarde. When the Fangthane Consulate is attacked by what appears to be a Toreguarde-grown Nationalist group known only as the Brotherhood, the two women are forced to work together to try and prevent war from breaking out between the two nations.
Taglist: (dm to +/-): @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @philosophika, @the-down-upside-finch, @cljordan-imperium
Characters
Constable Meredith Ironforge (aka Gruksdottir)
Detective Elowyn O'Toreguarde
Captain Arthur Fugit
Lieutenant Olin Starhammer
Lady Selene Frigidwake
Chapters
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
#aquadestinyswriting#titan fighting fantasy#titan fighting fantasy au#modern au#meredith gruksdottir#elowyn o'toreguarde#low fantasy#buddy cop adventure
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Spoilers for chapter 12 (2)
Idk how true this theory will hold, but I feel the need to express these thoughts regardless.
1) The king only has a princess right now. But Rei is older.
2) the whole secret passages thing with the royal family
3) him traveling alone for so long
4) OBVIOUSLY the name ordeal. Hiding of a secret identity??
5) even the people searching for him in 12 - 14 seems like royal guards looking for a lost prince or something
6) Rei stood out to me as a clan member before this. Huey clearly selected powerful and influencal people for his clan. (Sun lord, vice captain/noble, multiple yokai, forest guardian, priest)
Huey picks the people for a reason. So why did he pick Rei's ancestor? Rei clearly shows intelligence and promise with his experiments. But Huey seems disappointed with him nonetheless. So Huey didn't pick Rei's ancestor for the science. BUT Huey would be disappointed if he picked a royal family member, and now the person to inherit was ignoring his royal lineage for some gemstone experiments.
Either this, or Huey doesn't want Rei rooting through his gemstones.
(Also it should be added for context that I have a HUGE thing for secret identities and Princes. I have an OC who is a secret prince so I'm obsessed with this trope)
(basically, I'm SO biased towards this trope that it could be completely blinding me to reality lmao)
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Hello!! I just want to say that I’m obsessed with your Atlantis au. It’s brilliant!! I have a quick question and I apologize if you’ve answered it already! For the Atlantis au what is everyone’s name and age? Thanks again for writing this au! And you can just ignore my question if you want! I’m just curious! 😁
Ahhhh hello! Thank you! I’m so glad you enjoy it <3
I haven’t answered this yet and am more than happy to. :)
So I’ve already stated Wind and Twi’s ages for a prompt fill, but I’ll explain a little the reasoning. I’m also only doing the boys… mostly because I haven’t fully done anything for all the girls. Some of these I only decide when it becomes necessary. So for those not familiar… in the movie, Kida says she’s like almost 9,000 years old. We know she was a small child when the city sank and that she’s biologically in her mid-20s at the time of events in the movie. This is where I draw my inspiration.
Wind, AKA Leon (Latin, lion) - Red Lion Mask
Role: Border Guardian // Age: 340 - 624 years old
Physically he looks 16 years old, but having been born several hundred years after their area sank as an effect on his aging. It’s much slower hence why at over 600, he still looks 16. He also has the brain age of a 16 yr old boy. So expect dumb boy things out of him.
Twilight, AKA Lykos (Latin, Wolf) - Grey Wolf Mask
Role: Child of the Pillars // Age: 150 - 411 years old
Mentally 19 yrs old, physically 19 years old, chronologically like 6 - well maybe not exactly, but point is that it’s really murky. Technically a ‘foreigner’ but the story of his arrival is a bit cloudy for most. He pretty much just appeared, sans the memories of a roughly 7 month span prior to his arrival. This is because of the nature of what happened when The Pillars yoinked him from the Surface.
Sky, AKA Caelum (Latin, Sky/Heaven) - Sheer White Half Face Veil
Role: Temple Sky Knight // Age: 1,200 - 1,500 years old
Looks like he’s in his early 20s. Sky Knight’s don’t wear masks because it’s seen as dishonorable to wear them in the temple. They wear half face veils to show their piety while also keeping their eyes free of anything that could blind them to potential dangers.
Legend, AKA Veteran - Bunny Mask (in Pink)
Role: Royal Cartographer // Age: [Redacted]
Physically appears around the same age as Twilight. His true age is [Redacted] due to a disparity on when he actually arrived. He technically doesn’t do exactly what is usually expected of those with his sort of mask. Instead of holing up in the city, he goes out to explore and charts all their maps.
Hyrule, AKA Rue - Korok Leaf Mask
Role: Apothecary (Apprentice) // Age: 490 - 711 years old
He’s physically around the age of 18. Similarly to Twi and Legend. He wanders the islands and caves a lot, hunting for herbs and things for remedies.
Time, AKA Celatum (Latin, hidden/secret) - Mask Unknown
Role: Advisor to the Queen // Age: 2,000+ years old
He was in his early teens when the city sank. Hasn’t appeared to age since he reached the appearance of roughly early to mid 30s. No one has seen his mask, usually wears either a beaded veil or sheer eye band in Court.
Four AKA Vir (Latin, man) - Mouse Mask
Role: Blacksmith // Age: 2,000+
He looks like he’s 16, so same age as Wind. He was a small baby when the city sank. Doesn’t usually wear his mask due to concerns it will catch fire.
Wild AKA Trux (Latin, Wild/fierce) - Unknown
Role: Unknown // Age: 18 years
He’s new to their way of life so he’s not in the same boat of being centuries old. Yet.
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India archive reveals extent of ‘colonial loot’ in royal jewellery collection
File from India Office archive details how priceless items were extracted from colony as trophies of conquest
by David Pegg and Manisha Ganguly
Published: 14:00 Thursday, 06 April 2023
Five years ago, Buckingham Palace marked its summer opening with an exhibition celebrating the then Prince Charles’s 70th birthday with a display of his favourite pieces from the royal collection, Britain’s official trove of items connected to the monarchy. “The prince had a very, very strong hand in the selection,” the senior curator said.
Among the sculptures, paintings and other exhibits was a long gold girdle inlaid with 19 large emeralds once used by an Indian maharajah to decorate his horses. It was a curious choice to put into the exhibition in light of the violent means by which it had come into the hands of the royal family.
Emerald girdle of Maharaja Sher Singh, c 1840. Photograph: Royal Collection Trust / © His Majesty King Charles III 2023
As part of its Cost of the crown series, the Guardian has uncovered a remarkable 46-page file in the archives of the India Office, the government department that was responsible for Britain’s rule over the Indian subcontinent. It details an investigation, apparently commissioned by Queen Mary, the grandmother of Elizabeth II, into the imperial origins of her jewels.
The report, from 1912, explains how priceless pieces, including Charles’s emerald belt, were extracted from India as trophies of conquest and later given to Queen Victoria. The items described are now owned by the monarch as property of the British crown.
Plundered stones
To fully understand the context behind the jewels, and their place in India’s history, it was necessary to visit the archives.
A journal records a tour in 1837 of the Punjab area in north India by the society diarist Fanny Eden and her brother George, the governor general of the British Raj at the time. They visited Ranjit Singh, the maharajah in Lahore, who had signed a “treaty of friendship” with the British six years earlier.
The half-blind Singh wore few if any precious stones, Eden wrote in her journal, but his entourage was positively drowning in them. So plentiful were the maharajah’s gems that “he puts his very finest jewels on his horses, and the splendour of their harness and housings surpasses anything you can imagine,” she wrote. Eden later confided in her journal: “If ever we are allowed to plunder this kingdom, I shall go straight to their stables.”
Twelve years later, Singh’s youngest son and heir, Duleep, was forced to sign over the Punjab to the conquering forces of the British East India Company. As part of the conquest, the company did indeed plunder the horses’ emeralds, as well as Singh’s most precious stone, the legendary Koh-i-noor diamond.
The queen mother’s crown sits on top of the coffin during her funeral in 2002. Photograph: Dan Chung/The Guardian
Today, the Koh-i-noor sits in the crown of Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother, on display at the Tower of London, and it has become an emblem of Britain’s tortured relationship with its imperial history.
Anita Anand, a journalist and historian who co-wrote a book titled Koh-i-noor on the diamond, said it was “a beautiful and cold reminder of British supremacy during the Raj”, the period between 1858 and 1947 when India was ruled by the crown.
“Its facets reflect the fate of a boy king who was separated from his mother,” Anand said. The stone too was “taken far away from his home, recut and diminished”. Anand said: “That is not how India sees itself today.”
Buckingham Palace is plainly aware of the sensitivities surrounding looted artefacts. After the Indian government let it be known that for Camilla, the Queen Consort, to wear the Koh-i-noor at Charles’s coronation would elicit “painful memories of the colonial past”, the palace announced she would swap it for a less contentious diamond.
But, as was discovered by Queen Mary, the Koh-i-noor was not the only gem taken from Singh’s treasury to have found its way to the British monarchy.
Royal with a pearl necklace
Among the jewels identified in the document found by the Guardian is a “short necklace of four very large spinel rubies”, the largest of which is a 325.5-carat spinel that later came to be identified as the Timur ruby.
Its famous name is erroneous: research by the academic Susan Stronge in 1996 concluded it was probably never owned by Timur, a Mongol conquerer. And it is a spinel, a red stone similar to, but chemically distinct from, a ruby.
Elizabeth II was shown handling it in the 1969 BBC documentary Royal Family, and was clearly acquainted with the myths surrounding it. “The history, of course, is very fascinating. It belonged to so many kings of Persia and Mughal emperors, until Queen Victoria was sent it from India,” she observed.
The Timur ruby necklace, 1853. Photograph: Royal Collection Trust / © His Majesty King Charles III 2023
The queen was never pictured wearing the item. However, she may have worn another of the Lahore treasures, identified in the India Office report as “a pearl necklace consisting of 224 large pearls”.
In her 1987 study of royal jewellery, Leslie Field described “one of the Queen Mother’s most impressive two-row pearl necklaces … made from 222 pearls with a clasp of two magnificent rubies surrounded by diamonds that had originally belonged to the ruler of the Punjab” – almost certainly a reference to the same necklace.
The queen wearing pearls at the Royal Opera House in 2012. Photograph: AFP/Getty Images
In 2012, Elizabeth II attended a gala festival at the Royal Opera House in London to celebrate her diamond jubilee. Photographs showed her wearing a multi-string pearl necklace with a ruby clasp.
Were these Ranjit Singh’s pearls? There was speculation they may have been, though Buckingham Palace was unable to confirm either way.
Queen Mary’s interest appears to have been prompted by curiosity about the origin of some of her pearls rather than any moral concern about the manner in which they were obtained. But a Buckingham Palace spokesperson said slavery and colonialism were matters that “his Majesty takes profoundly seriously”.
Shashi Tharoor, formerly an undersecretary at the United Nations, and currently an MP in India, said: “We have finally entered an era where colonial loot and pillage is being recognised for what it really was, rather than being dressed up as the incidental spoils of some noble ‘civilising mission’.
“As we are seeing increasingly, the return of stolen property is always a good thing. Generations to come will wonder why it took civilised nations so long to do the right thing.”
#abolish the monarchy#queen elizabeth ll#king charles the cruel#brf#colonialism#koh i noor#cost of the crown#the guardian#british royal family#imperialism
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