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flowerflamestars · 5 months

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New Effloresce what if pov. Mor, because this was NOT what she expected to walk into. (She’s probably just as convinced as Feyre that Rhysand is right about everything)

oooo Mor is a tricky one!

So, from what I can tell, Mor can't be idiotic as she acts. But, probably because there's so much she can't bring herself to deal with for a whole host of reasons, she ignores A LOT.

Mor also seems like she DID have some contact with humans during the war and then...just went home? The books don't touch on this in a deep way, but we know she loved a lady who became a queen, and didn't want to watch her grown up and grow old, ect.

It's very romantic and sad and doomed queer lady love bullshit.

(sidenote. the way SJM did not for a second! a second! think through having her only lesbian character consistently coming onto people she has authority over? BAD. BAD BAD BAD human lady Cassian Azriel EMERIE BAD)

Right so, she loved her. But not in a I fought for this, I'll protect this human kingdom way. Mor's vibe TO ME, is more, keeping tabs, still thinking about what was chosen over her.

(see Azriel [acomaf Az because that's where Effloresce takes place anyway and it's the book Mor gets to be most like a person in]: Mor feels some kinda something over this dynamic. Az will go out BUT SHE HAS TO ASK. Cassian will ALWAYS BE THERE. There's this...specialness.)

Anyway, so all that in mind, you're Morrigan, and Feyre invites you to meet her sisters. You already said no, so you take a few days. Human lands suck. You hate how they treat their women (YOU LIVE IN A COUNTRY WHERE THERE ARE NO RULING WOMEN, MORRIGAN). You hate to see what could have been. You don't want to be reminded.

But you like Feyre.

You don't even mind that she's going to ascend to a throne when this is all over, no matter what Rhys is saying aloud. You want to be friends. So what, if you have to pretend a little. You can do that, you're great at that.

You winnow into chaos.

There's a fucking army.

There's Cassian, with a look on his face you've never actually seen, tipping everything sideways.

There's the hottest goddamn woman you've ever seen, who smells like firelight feels, talking to a bunch of fucking legionnaires like it's nothing.

And yeah, you thought Elain was about twelve. Twenty. Whatever, human and young.

Cassian doesn't laugh at your jokes. Cassian is standing there like he's waiting to be struck by lightening, and he keeps. staring. at Nesta. You have to give it to these humans, they're brave as hell to be getting close to Illyrians.

You leave, but you're not an idiot.

You bounce off the house like you've hit a brick wall.

You're truth, you're light, you can shine anywhere, but what's one light to a world of fire? A High Fucking Lord warded the Archeron's house.

And not Rhys.

Feyre, helpfully, finds you in the garden. You find, your arms locked together, you can walk in fine.

Blood magic.

Archeron blood in fucking magic.

You realize you're going to continue having a less than pleasant day.

#Feyre: AND THEY'RE ALL MAD AT ME-#Mor whose brain is busy with other shit sympathetically nodding along #also Mor: CASSIAN? CASSIAN AND SOME HUMAN? THAT HUMAN #THAT PROBABLY MAGIC LADY #who is going to take him away from us #also also Mor: Lucien. VANSERRA. VANSERRA that fucking autumn fuck #So yeah. Mor! not having a good time!#definitely a snob!#(sorry)#no one in Mor's life has every chosen her while possessing all the information and its been eating at her for five hundred years #she's entirely constructed another self for herself #which would be great #if she let anyone else around her have that kind of grace #Not only does she want to fuck Nesta #she's mad about it #mad Nesta and Cassian are WHATEVER THEY ARE #mad Cassian is going to leave her and mad Nesta would choose him #it's sooooo fucked and messy

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valhallasoutlaw · 3 months

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hey! i know this is a controversial topic within the community so i apologise but i'd really love some advice; i own two sons of horus and my partner owns a black legion astartes (a terminator specifically) - can you recommend safe ways to introduce them to each other? everywhere i look there seems to be quite a bias against owning chaos legions, the poor things are demonised to the high throne and everyone acts like the terminator will 'corrupt' the sons :/

Ooh another great question with a fascinating answer!

We all know that I believe that there are no bad marines! I hope this helps to shed some positive light on the Black Legion; someone could be missing out on their forever-marine just because of a bad reputation!

Now, since you and your partner have two Legions with pack inclinations and a strong sense of pecking order, the trick is respect! Start with introductions, (names, rank, the whole kit and kaboodle) in a safe place where they all feel like equals! The last thing you want is for your Black Legionnaire to feel outnumbered and nervous, so pick neutral territory. As their handlers, I recommend that you and your partner interact like allies. Stay close to your Marines: the Sons of Horus will look to you for emotional advice! If you are comfortable, eventually they will be. As for your Legionnaire, keep a close watch on him. See if he's a Leader-type Astartes, or a Follower-type. Sons of Horus tend to be Followers, and your Legionary may want to be the Alpha! Put a pin in that for a moment!

On the first session, I wouldn't expect too many results. Both will be wary, but if tension breaks out, stop the introduction immediately and wait. Try again later in a different space and see what happens. A two-versus-one introduction MAY seem counterintuitive, but trust me when I say you want your Legionnaire to know exactly what he's getting into--the poor darlings are expecting betrayal around every corner.

If, after a few sessions, they begin to develop that signature Astartes synergy we all love so much, feel free to let them spar or exercise together! The dynamic will emerge naturally over a period of a few weeks to a few months, and--remember that pin I mentioned?--your Legionnaire will likely integrate into the pack as a Follower-type (submitting to the strongest combatant) or, sometimes as a Leader-type (where your Sons of Horus are subordinate!) Either of these results is your goal, and if your Astartes dig their heels in and simply won't get along, I would consider another relationship. Astartes are a big responsibility! As unfortunate as it is, there are other fish in the sea, and your space marine needs you!

#warhammer 40k #space marines #astarteskeeping #astartes husbandry #adeptus astartes #warhammercommunity #no bad marines #just bad handlers #sons of horus #black legion #introductions

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nessieart · 10 days

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tooth&claw chapter 2

Read TEETH first to catch up!

t&c masterlist

Previous Chapter

Wc: 3.2k

An: man this took a real long time to get out. I’m so sorrry!

Pairings: Tony Stark x Shifter!reader

Age of Ultron

Warning: canon typical violence, language!, blood, alcohol use, fluff, angst. No y/n used. Nicknames: Poppy/Flowers

"But there wasn't anyone else in the building,” Maria spoke up. You helped her sit, her bare feet littered with broken glass.

Tony had rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt, a few cuts and bruises along his forearms, and a split lip, “Yes there was.” Tony flicks his wrist. The StarkPhone in his hand pops the now-destroyed 3D image of JARVIS' consciousness.

Bruce paces to the holo-image, hands out wide and in disbelief, “This is insane.”

Steve hangs his head in defeat, “JARVIS was the first line of defense. He would've shut Ultron down, it makes sense.”

“No,” Bruce shakes his head, “Ultron could've assimilated Jarvis. This isn't strategy, this is...rage,” and Bruce would know all about rage. You put your hand on his arm, giving a gentle squeeze.

Thor suddenly barges in the lab, strides quick and long, as he makes his way to Tony, and grabs hold of him by his throat.

“Woah, woah, woah!”

“It's going around.”

Tony chokes out a reply, hands grasping Thor's forearm for purchase, “Come on. Use your words, buddy.”

“I have more than enough words to describe you, Stark,” he lifts him higher in the air.

You jumped to your feet, making a b line to Thor. Your eyes flash a bright blue, fur violently threatening to rip through your skin as your fangs extend.

“Let. Him. Go,” you say on a low growl. You've placed yourself between Thor and Tony, your claws come out as Thor regards you.

“Thor!” Steve stepped forward, “The Legionnaire.”

Thor lets him go, and when Tony lands on his feet, he staggers, and his hand comes up to your shoulder, giving you a reassuring pat. You don't back down from Thor as he eyes you again, his lip curling up on one side.

“Trail went cold about a hundred miles out, but it's headed north, and it has the scepter. Now we have to retrieve it. Again.”

Natasha crosses her arms in front of her chest, “The genie's out of that bottle. Clear and present is Ultron.”

Dr. Cho was across the room, examining the destroyed Ultron bot he took over. She hadn't noticed the altercation in the middle of the room, “I don't understand. You built this program. Why is it trying to kill us?”

Everyone had leaped into action, everyone diving out of the way from the incoming Legionnaire bots. Firing repulsors and missiles at you all.

Steve had flipped the coffee table up just in time to protect himself from a flying Legionnaire bot to the chest.

Natasha grabbed Bruce and made a run for the bar for protection.

You had grabbed Rhodey's arm to shove him down when a repulsor caught the both of you in the side and sent you flying through a glass pane, Rhodey's body flying right after yours and landing on top of you. You groan, and he rolls off you. You can feel the tiny cuts from the glass along your face, a few bruises forming where you landed.

“Poppy, oh God, are you ok?” Hands frantically roaming above your body. He stops, “not to freak you out, but there's a large chunk of glass sticking out of your leg.”

You look down, sure enough, there's a large shard of glass sticking out of your thigh. You twist your body and grab the shard with two hands, and yank it out, yelping a little at the pain.

“Are you crazy!?” Rhodey takes both of his hands and clamps them over the gushing wound. You put your hand over his and go to move, “Stay still! Or you're gonna bleed out. Tony!”

“I'm fine, Rhodey. Really,” he goes to protest again, but you're already moving from his grasp and limping to move back to the main room. Most of the chaos has died down by now.

Rhodey helps you up the stairs just as Thor throws his hammer at the Legionnaire bot across the room.

Your eyes scan the room and land on Tony, he's slumped over his knees on the stairs across from you, and then his eyes catch yours, he looks so lost and defeated he doesn't even try to hide it.

Tony paces away from you towards his desk, stopping next to Bruce. And he starts laughing, Bruce subtly shakes his head at him to get him to stop.

Thor takes a step toward Tony, and you place yourself between them again. He stops himself short, “You think this is funny?”

Tony's laughter dies down to giggles, “No. It's probably not, right? Is this very terrible? Is it so... is it so... it is. It's so terrible.”

“This could've been avoided if you hadn't played with something you don't understand,” Thor points a threatening finger at Tony, and you growl in response.

“No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It is funny. It's a hoot that you don't get why we need this.”

“Tony,” your low growl is a warning.

“Tony,” Bruce hedges cautiously, “maybe this might not be the time to–”

“Really?!” He spins to Bruce, “ That's it? You just roll over, show your belly, every time somebody snarls.”

Your hackles rise, and you whirl around to say something, but Tony already regrets his choice or words when he meets your eye, and then quickly avoids it.

“Only when I've created a murder bot,” Bruce pleads.

“We didn't. We weren't even close. Were we close to an interface?”

“Well, you did something right,” Steve's stance is wide, arms still crossed against his chest, “And you did it right here. The Avengers were supposed to be different than SHIELD.”

Tony scoffs, “Anybody remember when I carried a nuke through a wormhole? Saved New York?

“Recall that? A hostile alien army came charging through a hole in space. We're standing three hundred feet below it. We're the Avengers. We can bust arms dealers all the livelong day, but that up there? That's... that's the end game. How were you guys planning on beating that?”

You knew Tony worried about other possible invasions, things he couldn't prepare enough for. He wakes up most nights in a panic. Other nights, he just doesn't sleep. You've tried to soothe him, reassure Tony that everything would be ok, as long as you were together. Together, you could weather whatever alien, supernatural, or evil forces threw at you.

Steves brows lower, chest puffing out slightly, “Together.”

“We'll lose.”

Steve drops his hands, brows now drawn together, “Then we'll do that together, too.”

Tony looks at him for a moment before turning away. He can't seem to look you in the eye. And when you take a step towards him, he puts a hand up and backs away.

A small whine escapes you, eyes pleading with him to let you in.

***

The conference room was a mess of folders, papers, and storage boxes. Trying to rifle through hundreds of physical documents on the off chance of finding something that links Strucker with anyone else.

Steve's rifling through folders, handing you papers to skim through, “Known associates. Well, Strucker had a lot of friends.”

“Well, these people are all horrible,” Bruce mutters.

You were reading through your own pile of papers when you heard Thor stop and come up beside you.

“What's this?”

Tony's brows furrow, scanning the image of a man, “Uh, it's a tattoo. I don't think he had it…”

“No, those are tattoos. This is a brand,” Thor confirms.

Bruce's fingers tap along the keyboard. After a moment, he perks up, “Oh, yeah. It's a word in an African dialect, meaning thief, in a much less friendly way.”

“What dialect?” Steve asks, putting his folders down.

“Wakanada...?” Bruce adjusts his glasses.

“Wakanda,” you say, Bruce raises his eyes to you, and Tony shifts from foot to foot.

Tony turns to Steve, his voice quieter than before, “If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods…”

Steve, in turn, lowers his voice, “I thought your father said he got the last of it?”

“I don't follow. What comes out of Wakanda?”

“The strongest metal on earth.”

“Where is this guy now?” Steve asks the room.

–

After everyone had filed out of the conference room to gear up to leave, Tony pulled you into a corner, hand gripping firmly at your elbow.

“How do you know about Wakanda?” He lowers his head to catch your eye.

When you avoid it, he says your name, making you look up at him. His brow is set in a frown as he studies your face.

“I've run into Shifters and Weres that have come from Wakanda and neighboring countries,” his hand on your elbow drifts up to your shoulder, pulling you in a little.

You fall into him willingly, hands coming up to rest on his chest as you press your nose under his chin.

“They keep to themselves,” you continue, “the Shifters that guard the Royal Family. I'm positive there's Were blood in that lineage somewhere.”

Tony hums, his hands rubbing up and down your spine.

“I thought you were angry with me,” you mumble into his neck. He stiffens slightly and pulls back enough to look you in the eyes.

He shakes his head, “never. I was angry at myself. For JARVIS. For Ultron, for letting it get so..” he sighs. “I want - I need - to protect you. Everyone. I thought making Ultron a reality would be one step closer to that. To -”

You cut him off with a kiss, his lips molding against yours, and his body relaxes. All the fight and stress rolling off his shoulders just for a moment as you both get lost in the kiss.

His hands grip and pull at your waist to bring you closer, and your hands snake their way up and over his shoulders and into the hair at his nap. You feel Tony shiver when your nails scratch the base of his skull, then lightly pull the hair.

You swallow the groan that fights its way out of his throat and into your waiting mouth. You part, and you both pant for breath, heated and mingling in the space between your bodies.

“Tony, I love you,” you say into his lips. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Love you, too, Poppyfield.”

“Don't compare me with Stark! It's a thing with me. Stark is - he's a sickness!” The loud metallic voice of Ultron echoes.

Tony, Cap, you and Thor touch down across from Ultron and his companions. You are on the back of the Iron Man suit, and Thor is holding onto Cap.

Tony straightens after your feet touch the ground, “Ahh, Junior. You're gonna break your old man's heart.”

Ultron shrugs and takes a small step closer, “If I have to.”

“We don't have to break anything,” Thor's voice booms.

Ultron all but glares at Thor, “Clearly you've never made an omelet.”

“He beat me by one second.”

“Tony,” you scold.

You turn your gaze onto the twins. You learned a little about them on the quinjet ride over. They were young and fighting for something they believed in.

They reminded you of Leon and you, young and trying to take on the world. Only for it to never work out for you. Because your brother doesn't want anything to do with you now.

Ultron takes a step toward your group, his red eyes stare you down, and you try not to fidget under his gaze.

“You brought her here?” He hisses toward Tony. “What were you thinking?” His eyes shift back to you. He says your name, soft in his metallic voice, “it's not safe. You should go back while you still can.”

The hair along your arms and the back of your neck stand on end. His glowing red eyes bore into yours, the feeling like he can see through you, but sees everything you are at the same time. It sends a shiver down your spine.

You share a concerned look with the bright eyes of the Iron Man suit, and Tony shakes his head at you.

The boy, Pietro, you think his name is, steps closer, arms wide as he makes a show of all the weapons around the old ship. “Ah, this is funny, Mr. Stark. It's what, comfortable? Like old times?”

“This was never my life,” you can hear the sadness and regret in Tony's voice.

“You two can still walk away from this,” you plead.

“Oh, we will,” the girl, Wanda, says.

Steve takes a step forward, “I know you've suffered.”

“Captain America,” Ultron sneers, “God's righteous man, pretending you could live without a war. I can't physically throw up in my mouth, but…”

Thor takes a step forward, his hand resting on your shoulder to the right, “If you believe in peace, then let us keep it.”

“I think you're confusing peace with quiet.”

“Yuh-huh. What's the Vibranium for?”

The metallic lilt of Ultron's voice sounds amused. His mannerisms remind you an awful lot of Tony, and it gives you pause.

“I'm glad you asked that, because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan–”

Ultron goes to fly, and Tony, he meets him halfway, the two of them trading blows as they fly up and out of the wreckage.

It's never a good idea to split up. You said this as Steve and Thor ran off in different directions. No one bothers to hear your plea.

You were sure you heard someone come down this way, your claws at the ready to take down another body guard.

“Anyone have a visual on the twins?” You ask into your comms. There's no answer as you crouch a little lower in your prowl down another hallway.

“Here we are,” Wanda says, and before you could make a move, she waves her hands in the air. Red mist flows from her fingertips, swirling and mesmerizing as you try and wipe it clean from the air around you.

You can almost feel it as it digs into your eyes and ears under your skin. All you see is red. A snarl leaves your lips as you launch yourself at Wanda.

It's nice today, you think. The sun is warm on your back as you tend to the garden at your feet. Dirt clings to your hands and under your nails, but it's nice. It's peaceful.

There's small giggles around you in the garden. Every now and then, you get a glimpse of shiny charcoal hair above the vegetable plants. The giggling gets closer as you pretend you don't hear anything.

Suddenly, there's a weight in your back, tiny hands find your eyes as the giggles turn into fits of laughter.

“Guess who!” The little voice says in your ear.

You laugh, thinking real hard, “oh! Well, let's see, it can't be daddy. These hands are too small! Is iiiit,” you grab her around the waist and haul her around your body to the ground below, tickling sides as you do.

“Luna! I should have known!” The little girl shrieks in glee as your fingers find the soft spots of her sides, digging your fingers in as you both laugh together. Her odd eyes glisten with laughter and tears. One blue and one golden.

“Mama! No more!” she wheezes, little hands pushing into your face as you peck kisses around her freckled face. “Daddy help!”

You yelp in surprise as large hands find your waist and haul you up and away. As Tony sets you on your feet, his hands find the small bump of your belly.

“What are my two girls doing out here, huh? Causing a whole bunch of racket so the neighbors think something is wrong?”

“Tony, we don't have neighbors,” you chuckle.

Luna, with her dirt covered hands, tugs on Tony's hand, “was playin’! Scared momma good! Luna, good girl!”

Tony pats her charcoal locks, smiling fondly at her, “of course you are, Luna girl. So good.”

Tony spins you to face him, a pleased look on his face and sparkles in his warm honey eyes, “why don't you both clean up, and I'll order us some lunch, yeah?” His lips find your cheek, and you hum in agreement. You grab Luna by the hand as she skips next to you.

You turn toward the house. It's a nice little cottage in the middle of the woods. It was a wedding present from Tony, and it made you so happy.

It's dark outside, no moon in the sky, but the stars are out, and it's warm.

A little too warm, maybe. Your eyes turn to the cottage. There's a fire.

A fire?

Poppy

“Tony? Luna!” You cry into the night air. There's no response. Just the roar of the fire blazing the cottage to the ground. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end.

The feeling is too familiar, and you whirl around. The silver catches in the firelight, and you stumble back. No.

Those steel blue eyes cut to you on the ground, and the muzzle is back over the lower half of his face.

“Bucky, it's me. Please,” you bring a hand up to stop his prowl towards you. It doesn't stop him. “Where's my family?” Your hand comes to rest on the small bump, tears burning your eyes.

Poppy.

Silver fingers grip the front of your sundress, hauling you up to eye level. His eyes flash bright amber, and you feel your blood run cold. No, you were joking about the serum. Joking about him being part werewolf.

“Bucky, please,” a tear escapes and runs hot down your cheek.

You can hear him try to sniff at you, a growl in his voice, “you were meant to be mine, lepestok.”

Poppy

“What…?” it's whispered in the space between you. You see his eyes crinkle like he's smiling behind the mask.

Poppy!

Your cheek stings. There's a red fog clearing from your vision as you blink rapidly. You're breathing heavily as your surroundings come into view.

“Buck-” your voice is hoarse and throat dry. “where?”

“You're on the quinjet, honey. Hey, eyes here, you're ok.”

Tony. Oh.

“What the fuck just happened? Where,” your hand ghosts over the nonexistent bump of your stomach, and it hurts. It's a horrible ache you never thought you'd experience. “I was-” you choke back a sob as you look into Tony's concerned brown eyes.

He scoops you into his arms, running a hand over the back of your head as he shushes you.

The hum of the quinjet softens as you feel it land. Tony lets you go, and you sit hunched over in the chair. He moves to the front of the jet, conversing quietly with Clint.

Steve sits across from you. He looks better than the others. with their far-off looks in their eyes, it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Steve?” His eyes snap to you, jaw clenched so tight you think his teeth might crack. “Are you ok?” His eyes scan you from head to toe, lingering on your center where your hand is still clutched tight over your stomach.

He nods once, eyes snapping back up to yours. There's a question in his gaze, and you have to tear yours away. Because you might start crying.

For having something you've always wanted, right there at your fingertips, and it all went away in a haze of red mist.

The back of the quinjet door opens, and you spring to your feet, fleeing the confines of the small space and out into open air.

You can still hear the echoes of her laughter in your mind. The feel of the baby bump on your tummy. The daughter you'll never have.

It's heartbreaking and soul crushing. Because you can never have children.

***

#tony stark x reader #mcu fanfiction #shifter!reader #tony stark x shifter!reader #tony stark imagine #mcu imagine

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norkoartstuff · 1 year

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Svatava of Chyfer, Last of the Coven of Eight, Daemonologist Malefactus, Mistress of Possession and rogue Witch.

Damned twice by the Ordo Malleus and once by the Ordo Hereticus, Svatava’s insiduous plots and sorcerous ways have corrupted many worlds and debased the most sacred of places of knowledge in the Skallus Sector/

The Holy Ordos are not her only enemies for even warbands of Traitor Legionnaires hunt her every move, incensed by the Witch’s wanton abuse and betrayal of those Neverborn she enthralls.

Little design work, Chaos isn’t my usual cup of tea so that was fun. Bit inspired by Slavic, Tzeenchian and Kislev vibes.

#character design #character art #art #design #warhammer 40k #warhammer #witch #psyker #mutation #ice #female #Tzeentch #chaos #40k #norkoart #norko

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simonbreeze · 11 days

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Games night, and the wh40k Kill Team campaign continues wiyh my Chaos Legionnaires into some pesky Drukhari. Drukhari took the win 🥺

#kill team #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #warhammer40k #warhammer #wh40k #tabletopgaming #wargaming #boardgaming #games #games night #drukhari #chaos legionnaires

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julie-su · 7 months

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Lori-Ki's in @sonic-oc-showdown ! Last time, we all did a short Q&A - @bunnymajo asked if we're doing it again this year, and I said - OMG, YES!

VOTE HERE

Lori-Ki is a once-great, now minimum-wage odd-jobs worker on the ground floor of the Dark Egg Legion, doing dirty jobs as-and-when commanded. This is the bane of her existence, having been a once-legendary sniper. When Enerjak Knuckles tormented the Dark Legion, she was part of the surviving echidnas to lose her cybernetics, having run-of-the-mill cybernetics installed when Dimitri joined the Dark Legion with Eggman's forces.

In her past life, she had a cybernetic eye, and hearing which was unparalleled. She was a powerhouse; now reduced to a regular echidna with titanium legs, and a ridiculous multitool installed into her hands.

Questionairre below the cut;

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name? Lori-Ki initially had a much more colourful colourscheme, of blues, oranges, and greens! She was named for the bird; the Lorikeet! Of course, the hyphonated name comes with the territory of being an Archie echidna.

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range) Lori-Ki is 26 years old.

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)? She likes to think that she has a long-con love/hate thing going on with Eggman, that he is madly in love with her. She has this elaborate plot of how exactly she is going to turn him down, she's got a wedding planner diary for it. He has no idea who she is, and could not tell her apart from the next Legionnaire.

🍕 - What is their favorite food? Lori-Ki enjoys a good coconut. Not USUALLY wrestled from a chao which found itself floating through the Twilight Zone, but ..

💼 - What do they do for a living? Lori-Ki does odd jobs for the Dark Egg Legion; the combined forces of the Dark Legion's might, with Eggman's technological know-how. She finds this an insult, given that before her cybernetics were stripped, she had been a highly competent and high-ranking sniper for the Legion. She had once sported an impressive cybernetic eye, and unparalleled enhanced hearing; after Enerjak wiped her circuits for flesh and blood, she found herself subject to the mass-producing legionisation under Eggman's command, which gave her standard cybernetics; robotic legs, and an embarrassingly goofy mutli-tool between her left thumb and pinkie.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies? She likes to make electronic music with Trearddur. She sits and gives her thoughts and opinions whilst he mixes it, occasionally offering vocals and new sounds for the recordings. Sometimes, she'll play a little music to add to the mix.

🎯 -What do they do best? Vindication! She used to be an incredible shot; since Enerjak removed her cybernetics, she had been trying to get them restored; Eggman wanted nothing to do with such a thing, barely even noticing her presence. This spurred into a vindicative obession...

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do? She loves being paired up with Trearddur, and getting work done. They're thick as thieves, and used to be an incredibly efficient powerhouse duo in making the Legion run smoothly. This was a major source of pride. Anything she can do that makes things easier for everybody makes her happy.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories? Meeting Trearddur! They had met in their early 20's both grabbing a drink, and had become thick as thieves in an instant. Discovering that they were both on security, they fast became nigh inseperable, even their cybernetics slotting hand-in-hand.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories? Being held at the mercy of Enerjak Knuckles was an incredibly traumatic event for Lori-Ki. The sheer power on show was terrifying; to be stripped of her cybernetics which were very much a part of her person was like losing a part of herself. Losing the abilities she previously had was incredibly debilitating for her; to have them replaced with unsuitable robotic parts was life-changing in the worst way.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one? Sort of! Yesn't. I tend to go through a design process over a few days, when working on OC's. I will create a few variations, and refine it from there.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC? We were messing around in Sonic Projector RP, a Sonic fangame - we decided to go with the Dark Egg Legion, to mix things up a little. After messing around in Press Gardens crushing crates for rings, we fell in love with the idea of echidnas who were once great, now doing odd dirty jobs for Eggman.

🌂 - What genre do they belong in? Science Fantasy, and something about an allegorical hatred for the British Government's poor dealings with disabled people. (oh, you didn't get that subtext? ... Look, look with your special eyes?)

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality? Lori-Ki is 'maybe a girl, iunno' who is openly bisexual.

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have? None! Lori-Ki is an only child.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like? She doesn't much know her parents; it's not unheard of in the Dark Legion - the Twilight Zone was unforgiving and harsh, and many children grew up in foster care.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC? She is fantastic to roleplay as! Her combative wit and short temper which fades away to a 'NO JK JK JK LOLOLOL I heart your fucking makeup oh my god I love your hair' -- She's all of the passive agressiveness I dropped when I stopped being a scene teen. Gawd. HORRIBLE person to be around, but I LOVE her.

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC? About once a month, at least. Mostly, we RP and LARP as her; that happens much more often. We'll brainstorm her quite often!

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC? Her death would be reeeeally drab, symbolically; I'd prefer not to.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias? She is terrified of overestimating her abilities; her brain has not quite caught up with the fact that she isn't as able as she was with her old cybernetics. She oft finds herself in sticky situations due to overestimating her sight and hearing, still learning her new limitations.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival? She thinks that it's Eggman. He's never even heard of her.

🎓 - How long have you had the OC? Wooh, only a year by now!

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC? 23!

#Sonic OC Showdown #lori-ki the echidna #archie sonic OC

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heracrosshero · 3 months

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Infiltration

Massacre Girl waited for the cover of night. She had borrowed a flying mount from a contact of hers in the Simic. It was some unholy hybrid of bat, lemur, and manta ray named Fuzzy. Fuzzy and Massacre Girl glided through the cold city air towards the Parhelion II. Angels and Sky knights gracefully circled around on patrol. However, Massacre Girl easily guided her mount to descend quickly through a blind spot. Fuzzy's wings folded inward as they came to a stop in a small overhang in the flying fortress's structure. Hidden under the towering steel, Massacre Girl dismounted andpatted Fuzzy on the head. Telling them to stay put, Massacre Girl began to tread carefully towards a metal hatch on the wall nearby.

The hatch was much too tightly sealed for her to pull open herself, but she could neatly use a vial of acid to melt through its hinges. Then, all Massacre Girl had to do was wait patiently until the acid had done its work, and then lift the hatch door up and gently lay it down on the deck. Inside of the Parhelion II, Massacre Girl found rows and rows of barracks down seemingly endless halls. The interior was made mostly of spotless marble floors and metal beams crossing the ceilings and walls. Most of the Boros Legionnaires aboard the Parhelion II were asleep by now, and so the magical hall lights were only dimly pulsating. Massacre Girl's jagged teeth reflected this soft light as she smiled mischievously. The first stage of her adventure was over.

There were a few possible objectives Massacre Girl could accomplish while on board the Parhelion II. She could go down to the prison sector and free the prisoners there to sow chaos, she could kill a few higher ranking legionnaires to sow fear, or she could just wander around until something else caught her fancy. Plan C was the only option available to her at the moment, as she had no idea what the layout of this gargantuan war machine was. Whatever actions she took tonight, they had to be over and done with before sunrise, or else her chances of escape would drop like a stone. Therefore, Massacre Girl jogged down the halls, her feet making no noise even on the hard stone floors. She hastily glanced at the labels of rooms and stairways, looking for any hints as to where she was, but to no luck. Every map and plaque was marked by numbers and letters that didn't mean anything to Massacre Girl. Grunting in frustration, Massacre Girl pushed open the door of a stairwell and slid down the rails to descend to the next floor down. She had landed near the upper levels of the Parhelion II. If it was anything like a normal Boros building, the more secure areas would be in the center of the complex.

After twisting around corner after corner until her ankles began to ache and her eyes were straining, Massacre Girl finally rounded to face a grand door blocked by an iron portcullis. Two human legionnaire guards marched in lockstep back and forth, but had not yet noticed her. Now this room had some potential. All it took was a brief moment of distraction for Massacre Girl to strike her victims with a set of darts laced with a paralyzing toxin. It wasn't potent enough to do any lasting damage to a grown human, sadly. However, it worked to instantly render both guards inert and unconscious on the ground. This allowed Massacre Girl to casually stroll up to the door, whistling a happy tune. A lever next to the door stood out, and Massacre Girl used both her hands to haul down on the lever in order to raise the portcullis. It made a dangerous amount of noise, but whoever worked or lived in this room clearly was important enough to have this whole floor to themselves, because Massacre Girl hadn't seen any other rooms nearby. Once the spearlike rods of the portcullis were set tight above the arch of the door, Massacre Girl twisted the doorknob and gently swung open the door. The lights were all off inside, but Massacre Girl could tell it was a living quarters. To her side was a small closet mostly filled with greaves, mail, and other armor pieces. Further inside of this space was an entry parlor with a few pieces of wooden furniture and a small kitchen next to it. With her assassin's heightened senses, Massacre Girl could tell that there was a person just around the corner, but there was no threat or danger in the air. Asleep, Massacre Girl concluded.

Taking out a set of fresh daggers, she tiptoed her way past the closet and the chairs and the kitchen. A wooden door, much less decorative and far less fortified than the previous, stood slightly ajar. It looked relatively well kept, if plain, so Massacre Girl hoped it did not creak. Biting her lip in anticipation, she raised a hand and softly pushed against the door with her fingertips.

With no windows or lights, the room was so pitch-dark that even Massacre Girl needed a moment to adjust her eyes. A large, rectangular bed was the centerpiece of the room. In the inky blackness, she could still see the pattern of the Boros Legion covering the bedsheets. Underneath those sheets was a person, fast asleep. They slept on their stomach, with one hand hanging limply off the bed, grazing the cold marble floor underneath. Their long hair spread out in all directions like an octopus's tentacles, completely enveloping their face and upper back. The resting figure wore simple linen pajamas with no ornamentation. What Massacre Girl noticed most was a sword in its scabbard resting on the edge of the bed, and a pair of feathery wings hugging their owner like another blanket, rising and falling with her even breaths. This was Aurelia the Warleader's bedchamber.

#magic the gathering #mtg #mtg spoilers #murders at karlov manor #massacre girl #aurelia #Fanfiction

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zmasters · 2 months

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The Characters in my Chaos Mercenary Warband: The Rust Hydras

I can't draw for shit, enjoy the descriptions of my lovable group of psychopaths.

Characters from my Warhammer fan fic, and models I play. I will add things as time goes on.

The Rust Hydras are an Alpha Legion mercenary warband lead by the Warpsmith Narvik. Based out of the strike cruiser Rusted Herald, but has recently taken over the fedual world of Kage in the Izanagi system, the warband specializes in sabotaging enemy vehicles. While a small force, they offer their services as mercenaries. This is usually done by infiltrating the target's location, sabotaging and stealing vehicles and defense platforms, and leaving when the hiring invasion force arrives. They also build daemon engines for sale.

Vera von Hellebor

Role: Knight Destructor Pilot, Psyker, Daemon Summoner, Forge Assistant

Aliases/Nicknames: Bloodfly, Narvik's Pet, the feck is that thing?

Pronouns: she/her

Physical Description: 6ft 5. Teal scaled carapace, which can change colors and take the appearance of normal human skin-tone. Her arms and legs end in four sharp claws, but can be reshaped into human-like proportions. Blonde hair and purple eyes, both of which can be changed as well. A pair of horns sprout from her forehead, and she has a tail. She has a pair of blood red insect wings, which are kept hidden in her back carapace.

Bio:

The mutated daughter of the leader of the Knight House Hellebor, Vera and her knight, the Unrepentant Misery (inherited from her brother, Sven, who past defending her from the inquistion), were given up to the Alpha Legion warpsmith Narvik in order to protect her from the Inquisition. Under Narvik's tutelage, she was raised as his assistant.

Personality:

Knight pilot savant, master of the forge, and novice daemon summoner, Vera is an moron in ever other possible field, and is only a competent spy because of her psyker powers.

Bubbly and optimistic though quick to rage, she sees Narvik as her father, and is willing to do whatever he says. Her daily duties include summoning daemons to be put into engines, and killing daemons that escape from being put into engines.

Daemons find her difficult to possessed due to her overwhelming optimism. That being said, it has happened before. As well, Vera the psyker strangely favors Khorne over the other three Chaos Gods, and wears a Khornate pendent gifted to her by her older sister Marianne (a proper Khorne follower).

She has since carved out a small kingdom on the moon of Kage, and claims (key word, claims) all of the Izanagi system as hers. But she finds actually ruling a kingdom to be boring, and plans to hand it off to her partner Zyn.

Vera is aromantic, a trait that confuses the asexual Narvik and Iska. She is also in a queer platonic relationship with Zyn, who wants a proper romantic relationship but understands that it's unlikely.

Likes: Murder, blowing shit up, building things to blow shit up with

Dislikes: Peace, actually ruling the kingdom she made, her biological father

Narvik the Rusting Hydra

Role: Warband Leader, Warpsmith,

Aliases/Nicknames: Alpharius, Omegon, "that red one" -Iron Warrior's Chaos Lord, "Father" -Vera

Pronouns: he/him

Physical Description: 8ft 2. Olive skin with no body hair. Most of his body has been replaced by cybernetics in a way that resembles an unmodified astarte. Wears a rust-red set of armor, only his helmet and right pauldron being Alpha Legion teal. His armor appears to be perpetually stained in oil.

Bio:

Graduated as a tech-marine from Mars a day before the Horus Heresy, Narvik had a rough start as a Chaos space marine. He quickly jumped ship, taking a handful of legionnaires of various traitor legions with him, and vanished into the Warp. He and his men reappeared a few (thousand) years later, accidentally causing a warp storm to cover Vera's homeworld the day she was born, which mutated every child born for an entire month. Hiding out for a few years, Narvik stole these mutated children, alongside a number of captured human serfs and knights. As the world was torched by the inquisition, and they vanished back into the Warp.

Personality:

Narvik is a serious man, prioritizing the survival of his people over anything else. His training under the mechanicum caused him to develop a clinical and mechanical outlook on everything. Despite this, he cares for Vera like a daughter, despite his emotionless style of speaking suggesting otherwise.

He spends most of his free time mentally connected to the Rust Herald's machine spirit, wishing for the simple life of being a ship.

He taught Vera how to read binary, and nothing else.

One of his hearts temporarily stopped after catching Vera drinking oil. She was fine.

Likes: Fucking with people, selling what remains of his soul for the highest price, dreaming about being a complete machine, Vera

Dislikes: Loud noises, the Rusted Herald taking damage, the mechanicus (he's fine with the mechanicum)

Havoc Champion Iska

Role: Havoc Squad Commander, Second-in-Command

Aliases/Nicknames: Havoc, Rusty, Uncle

Pronouns: [REDACTED]/[DATA EXPUNGED] do not refer to them

Physical Description: 8ft 10. Wears a set of rust red armor with taloned boots. Each pauldron is silver in color. They never removes their armor in the view of others.

Bio:

The youngest of the astartes of the Rust Hydras (being born after the Heresy), Iska has quickly raised through the ranks to entering Narvik's personal guard. They now serves as Narvik's right hand, taking charge whenever the warpsmith is busy building machines or daydreaming of being a machine spirit.

Personality:

Iska is a creature of few words, only speaking when they deems appropriate. And most times, they still don't speak. As leader of a havoc squad, they favor long range combat, their favored weapons being a lascannon.

Iska has volunteered for the role of uncle in Vera's life, spoiling the little beast with trophies from their conquests.

Vera sees Iska as a big, quiet teddy bear.

Narvik thinks Iska is an effective warrior and a worthy successor.

Everyone else is terrified by the silent giant.

Likes: Vera, Murder

Dislikes: Everything else

Zyn

Role: Vera's partner, Spy

Aliases/Nicknames: Horns, Bloodfly's Bloodbag

Pronouns: she/them

Physical Description: 6ft 2. A beastwoman with black fur, bright yellow eyes, curved ram-like horns, and bone white hooves.

Bio:

The mutated daughter of Vera's wetnurse, she and her future partner were close for their entire lives. She wasn’t abducted with Vera though, and was forced on the run with alongside the remaining nobility of House Hellebor. Zyn and Vera united over two decades later, after Vera killed her father for selling her out to the inquistion and causing the collapse of House Hellebor. Since then, she has served as Vera's queen. And while she isn't as gifted as Vera is in battle, she knows how to read and generally takes care of the day-to-day ruling.

Personality:

Zyn is very defensive of Vera, seeing her partner and knight lord as theirs. This has gotten them into trouble as they tried to defend their partner from potential suitors. When away from suitors, she is incredible lovey-dovey with Vera, who's aromantic ass is also incredible oblivious. Zyn has to specifically say that she wants sex to get Vera's attention, and sometimes that doesn't work.

She was trained to be Vera's maid prior to her abduction by the Rust Hydras, and generally takes care of the cleaning and laundry. Vera can never do laundry again, after trying to using the heat produced by her knight's exhausts to dry their clothes. Zyn also cooks everything, due Vera somehow burning ice cream. She is fine with this, as despite their bestial appearance and rage, Zyn has a traditionally feminine personality. She wants to be the housewife, cooking, cleaning, and raising their kids. Though she's fine without the "kids" part.

She is unaware that Vera had laid eggs and given them away, mostly because Vera isn't sure how that happened and feels too embarrassed to admit it.

Once discovered that Vera was possessed by a daemonette after she wanted to top.

Likes: Vera, murder, housework

Dislikes: Non-mutated humans, a knight collecting dust, blood in her clothes

I may occasionally add updates to this, if anything, just to make Vera weirder.

#warhammer #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000 #chaos 40k #warhammer fanfic #warhammer oc

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arvadthecursed · 5 months

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Miranda "Randy" O'Connell • 22 • she/her

Strength 3; Perception 5; Endurance 3; Charisma 10; Intelligence 8; Agility 4; Luck 7

I conceived of Miranda as a companion to a character in some future Fallout game. She's bi and would be romanceable :) but she's also very much so her own person.

Major major CW for her backstory, it involves the Legion and sexual abuse, slavery, suicidal ideation, etc.

She's supposed to have a large bull shaped brand on her left cheek, from her time as a Legion slave.

Picrew

Miranda was born near the Colorado River in 2268. She had a relatively normal life, living with her parents at younger brother -- until the Legion arrived in 2280, killing her parents and kidnapping her and her brother.

Miranda was taken to Cottonwood Cove, separated from her brother. The young girl was placed with the other female slaves to be sold. There, she met a woman named Carla, who comforted the little girl in spite of their shared horrible situation. In the short time she knew Carla, Miranda grew close to her, until the older woman's untimely demise.

In the chaos that ensued after Carla's shooting, Miranda was snatched up by an older Legionnaire, and made into his slave. Miranda spent many years with the man, though she is unable to remember his name in the present day (2290). Unable to do anything but serve, Miranda's spirit was broken.

The Legion began to fall apart three years later, and Miranda's owner took her across the Colorado River. In the distance, she would sometimes see roaming traders, raiders, and settlers. For the first time since she was enslaved, Miranda thought about freedom, and how she craved it more than anything else.

When she was 16 years old, Miranda and her owner were staying at a small shack. She found a rusty knife out in the yard, and she realized that the knife was her only way out. She could stay with her owner, trapped, abused, afraid, and alone; or she could take her fate into her own hands. Miranda hid the knife under her pillow.

One night, her owner came home in a drunker stupor and demanded she service him. Seeing her chance, Miranda agreed -- so she could get close enough to earn her freedom. Getting onto the bed, Miranda feigned admiration. Then, she grabbed the knife from under her pillow and stabbed her owner to death.

Adrenaline rushing through her veins, Miranda fled into the night, not knowing where she was going or how she was going to survive. It didn't matter to her. If she died -- so be it. She would, at the very least, die free.

She finally collapsed outside of a small town, where a kindly super mutant named Jim took her to the local doctor and saved her life.

Miranda elected to stay with Jim, affectionately calling him "Pops" after a year of being relatively mute. The young woman managed to grow a small garden, and sometimes sells her flowers in Jim's general store.

Miranda has slowly opened up to her fellow townspeople, though it took more than two years for her to utter more than a few words to anyone who wasn't Jim.

Despite her horrific past, Miranda has remained kind-hearted and warm, truly believing in the goodness of others. She is quietly intelligent and has a strange, soft charisma that compels others. With a gentle word, Miranda can soothe or convince others of a cause. If one were to have Miranda at their side, they could pursue their goals through speech and conviction alone.

Her physical strength diminished greatly, and she is not particularly strong or fast, and she's not the best with a gun, usually missing her targets. Despite her lackluster physical performance, Miranda knows the plants of the Wasteland, making her useful with medicine and survival skills.

Still, several years on from her torment, Miranda carries a weight. She feels disconnected and lonely, and like her life means very little in the grand scheme of things; if she disappeared, she thinks, nothing would change.

My general idea was that she would be recruited by whomever, and she'd join the person ostensibly to "see the world." Miranda's true motivation, however, was that she was horribly depressed but "too afraid" to commit suicide, and she did not want to hurt Jim by killing herself. She secretly hoped that she would die in the Wasteland, taking care of her own problems while not being a burden upon the man who saved her life. Miranda also has complicated feelings regarding this, as she feels her suicidal thoughts are selfish, since Jim and the doctor tried so desperately to save her.

Gradually, she would come to see that her life does still have value, and there is goodness in her, too; she can take her goodness and make the world a better place. Miranda eventually comes to see that there is hope for her yet, and her story isn't over.

One of the goals is to find her brother, who she hasn't seen in a decade. Her brother was 8 at the time of their kidnapping, and was taken into the Legion and raised as a soldier. After the Legion's fracture, he fled east with a small group of his fellows. Eventually, Miranda finds him, and through her compassion and understanding, her brother turns his back on the Legion and swears to do better. He goes to Miranda's town and she arranges for him to become a security guard for the doctor who saved her. While it will take a long time to fully undo the Legion brainwashing, both Miranda and her brother are hopeful for a better future

Her last quest would be going to the Colorado River and planting one of her rose bush transplants there, to symbolize hope. While many of her fellow slaves perished, there was a hope and a fire in them that couldn't be destroyed by anyone, Legion or not.

Anyway that's Miranda, I put. Way too much thought into this and I love her so so much. I might try and write something for her here soon ...

#fallout oc #oc: miranda #fallout

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