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varilien · 8 months

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(character uses they/it) i keep wanting to start posting my ocs over here again and then Just Not Doing It so uhhhh !!! some stuff from february, had a dream about knives that made me think of a plant oc with a constant power output so extreme that it generates a deadly radiation field around them. because of that they've been living alone this whole time, avoiding contact with other living things, and over the years they've learned how to suppress that output for short spans of time or "safely" pour out the excess in order to be safe to be around, though they ultimately prefer their solitude due to a history of bad experiences with humans. they're very blunt, spiteful, and curious

@whatever-you-can-give-me suggested lr would make good friends for them since they are 🤝 about being extremely hard to hurt lol

also! wrote like 2k about they and razlo's first meeting below the cut if anyone's interested in some good ol violence + gore :3

that was a fr content warning btw read at ur own discretion:

Chance encounters with violent strangers out in the open desert are nothing new to LR, even when Livio purposefully had tried to find the quietest possible route to travel. It’s not even necessarily surprising to run into someone a little to the left of human, someone a bit bigger or stronger or more durable than they really have any right to be. The Eye aren’t the only ones designing freaks on this planet, that much is obvious, evidenced sufficiently by the odder fights LR have ever gotten in.

And this one is shaping up to be one of their oddest fights yet.

Livio hadn’t seen the fucker coming, occupied as he was with the slow realization of why this stretch of road doesn’t see much use anymore: a creeping heat across his nerve endings unrelated to the overcast, evening suns, the taste of metal in his mouth, and a deep-rooted nausea twisting up his guts. Radiation sickness. He’s dealt with it before, and as unpleasant as it is, it’s hardly enough to slow him down too bad.

It’s damn distracting, though. A good enough excuse for not noticing them hiding up along the rockface above his head. Not a good enough excuse to keep Razlo from tagging in, especially after something’s pierced straight through the back of his neck, nearly taking his head clean off.

Razlo rolls for cover with a strangled sound, blood gushing from his forced-out throat and foaming at his lips. Even with his senses jarred and his vision blurred, it'd take more than a near-decapitation for his instincts to be overridden. He's slinging out a Punisher before he even knows what he's up against.

There's a blur of motion to his right as soon as his sights are raised. They're probably surprised Razlo's still standing, but so was everyone else who's gotten a lucky shot at him.

He can track their motion by sound alone. They're sloppy. Feet hitting the cracked earth in hard thumps, every one a warning that Razlo can aim a spray of bullets at. And by now Razlo's healed enough to notice and wonder why the hell his head is still so fucked up.

At least now he can mostly see them when he turns, hanging back a ways, out of Razlo's reach. Shorter than him by a head and a half, covered toe to tip in layers of sun-bleached rags, save for their face. That's hidden behind a tall, curved mask, shaped in a way that looks an awful lot like a tomas' crest, with the false eye markings to match. Even the glass for the lenses is opaque. The only part of them that’s exposed is their left hand, extended delicately aside to keep Razlo’s blood dripping off it from getting on their clothes.

Razlo physically tries to shake out the buzzing in his skull that only gets worse by the second, only to notice the foul smell of burning meat and risk an instinctive glance down at his arm, where his flesh has started to bubble and steam seemingly on its own. He looks between his arm and his opponent, the way their body tenses and head begins to tip, shaking hard, simultaneous with his skin boiling that much more fiercely.

Something clicks in his brain. There’s no way.

And no time to find out. This time when they dart in he’s expecting it; he takes a swing at their head, and they dodge right into his follow-through, slamming his Punisher into their skull with a crunch and a wet sound from their throat. They drop, like he’d expect them to, like anyone would. And like no one does, they just roll out of the way and onto their back, braced to spring back up again. Razlo puts his boot through their ribcage before they get the chance to. That should be the end of it, too, but the fucker just keeps kicking, trying to get away, the only sound they make being the gurgle of their lungs filling with blood, and they keep kicking.

At this point Razlo doesn’t even have a plan anymore. Needless to say, he doesn’t go up against an awful lot of guys who match him in the department of being a pain in the ass to take down. Razlo's just starting to come up with a new idea when those long arms swing up, claws digging into and making ribbons of his right leg.

Razlo curses and tries to pull away, which only makes them hold on even tighter. He's staring that four-eyed glare down when that burning feeling across his whole body raises in pitch again, and it's the sight of his flesh starting to disintegrate around their fingers that finally makes him back off.

Razlo rather gracelessly falls on his ass in trying to take a step back, not expecting his right leg to simply break off halfway down his thigh. He scrambles back a ways, ready to keep going, missing limb or no, but— they aren't following him. They're collapsed in the sand, limbs akimbo as they fight to draw a full breath. Razlo watches with morbid curiosity as his severed leg dissolves into nothing more than an off-colored patch of sand beside them.

All that angry tension has gone out of their body, leaving them limp and motionless except for the stutter of their chest, and Razlo can hear the damp gasps muffled behind their mask. By all rights, it should look like more of a struggle. They should be dead, really, but from where Razlo is sitting, it looks a lot more like they’re just taking a rest. He feels more sure of that when they roll their shoulders back a bit, arms braced in the dirt as they delicately arch their spine. There’s some sharp popping sounds, and a little exhale from them; setting their ribs, Razlo figures. He’s had to do the same thing before. Once they can move their arms more effectively, they start to gather themself up into a seated position, bones and joints still crackling like popcorn here and there as they go, til they’re all the way up, with their hands resting in their lap, looking far too fucking comfortable for the fight they’d just had.

"You're not dead."

Their voice startles Razlo despite being as soft as it is, and his gaze flicks up to that mask, just slightly tilted to the side, orange lenses glinting in the harsh sunlight. They don't move at all that Razlo can see. Even their breathing has evened out enough to have become imperceptible under their heavy shroud; if they're in any pain still, Razlo sure can't tell.

"Nope," is all he says, or can manage to say.

He scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, blinking hard a couple times to scrunch up his face in the hopes his nerves might start feeling right again soon.

Another wave of nausea hits him, but his stomach was empty before the fight even started, so he leans forward to put his head between his knees and dry heave for a while.

The whole time, he's aware of his little opponent continuing to sit in silence, watching and eerily unmoving, even when Razlo manages to sit up again and wipe his mouth with his wrist.

"The fuck's yer deal, anyways?" Razlo asks.

"'Deal'...?" They echo.

"Couldn't exactly kill you, either."

He wasn't expecting them to spill their life story or something, but he was thinking he'd get something more of a response than their head tilting back the opposite way. There's not a lot to work with here in trying to get a read on them, but Razlo feels it's safe to hazard they're probably just pretty damn confused, the same as him.

"You kinda smell like a Plant. M'not an expert, but I've met two others."

Now that gets something out of them. A tiny wiggle of their head that makes the pieces in their mask rattle.

"I wouldn't know. I've only met me."

“Huh.”

Whether it’s a confirmation or rebuttal hardly matters at this point. He’s feeling sure enough that his assumption was correct, now, anyways.

"You, uh…" Razlo has to pause for breath. Unlike the thing across from him, he's having a hell of a time getting his back. "You're the one making this radiation field?"

"Yes."

"Any way you could turn it down?"

They say nothing, though Razlo feels suddenly that he's being studied very intently. And shortly after, slowly, slowly the fire in his cells begins to go out, and he can spit the worst of the sourness off his tongue. Eventually he can't feel any radiation left at all, though his body's had a rough enough time from the dose he got, he'll be getting the sickness out of his system for a while yet.

Regardless, Razlo’s fingers twitch against the triggers when he hears that mask rattle again, and his eyes are on it in an instant.

"You didn't answer my first question," Razlo reminds, cautiously.

More silence, for a while.

"You wanted to hurt me."

There's no malice in the statement, at least that Razlo can tell. Just the simple facts. Still, he narrows his eyes.

"You started it. Figured it was mutual."

"That's true."

Razlo grins.

"So, what now? Regrow my leg, and get back to not killing each other?"

"If you'd like to."

That gets a laugh out of him.

"Nah, I think I’ll pass, if it’s all the same to you.”

“It is.”

That much is obvious. They stay put, seeming transfixed on watching Razlo’s leg grow back, only a little more slowly than any of his other injuries, now that he doesn’t have the radiation to slow him down. It leaves him feeling itchy and achy all over, and he’s got a bad hunch that right ankle doesn’t have the best chances of coming back right. Once there’s enough of it to fuss about, he gets his foot in his hands and starts experimentally rolling it on its hinge, checking that the range of motion is right.

And still, those orange lenses glint at him curiously. They don’t flinch or look away when Razlo considers them in return; he guesses they don’t know it’s not polite to stare.

“What's yer name?" Razlo asks.

"My name?"

"Don't tell me you ain't got one."

The silence that follows is pretty self-explanatory.

“I’m Razlo.”

He can just make out the sound of them mumbling his name under their breath, like they’re not sure how it’s going to come out. Almost warmly, almost shyly, they manage to say: “hello, Razlo.”

#also you don't have to tell me their mask reminds you of tristamp zazie's everyone says that lmao #oc #oc: razlo's lil friend #razlo #razlo the tri punisher of death #livio #livio the double fang #cuz i've never read trimax chatting about lr n their lil friend just felt like the usual playing toys time of oc crossovers w friends lol #and for that reason i have not given any thought at all to them meeting any other characters jghkdjf #i figure i should probably post this now since i'm gonna be busy with the horror movie requests + halloween stuff for a while

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mx-myth · 4 months

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Post-canon difang amnesia au where someone decides that di feisheng needs to die once and for all. They don't exactly succeed but once again dfs loses his memory. When he wakes up on the bank of a river all he has is three words written on his palm: find fang duobing.

He picks himself up and finds that when he asks around everyone is all too happy to tell him about fdb. Oh yes! That gongzi, they tell him, he's a hero! He's going to kill the number one villain in the jianghu!

Dfs doesn't know it yet but whoever made that attempt on his life threw fdb under the bus. It's meant to be another donghai-sized misunderstanding except that he's lost his memories.

He continues onward and eventually finds himself at Tianji Manor. The servant who lets him in is wide-eyed but when he asks for fdb their face turns downright scared. He's timidly informed that their shaoye is out right now.

That's fine, dfs says. He plops down right there to wait.

Master He, who has perhaps not seen her son since li lianhua was supposed to be at the beach, is told of this situation. She's heard the rumors that her son is looking to kill dfs and, half-believing this, storms out to give him a piece of her mind.

Dfs is wildly confused about why this woman is yelling at him. He's vaguely scared of her but it's not because he finds her intimidating. He doesn't know why.

Luckily this is the moment that fdb arrives home. He's tired and exhausted and forcing himself to take a break from his search for llh. "Niang!" He calls.

And then he stops. Dfs stares at him around his mother. "Lao-Di?" He says. His voice is wavering and cracks in the middle.

He stands and stumbles towards him. They meet in the middle of the yard and fdb looks like he wants to hug him but he thrusts his palm out at him before he can. "Fang Duobing?"

Fdb stares at it before taking it and cradling his hand in his own. His eyes are as huge as the moon when he looks at him. "A-Fei?"

Dfs may not know the difference but he can feel it. Whoever he was before was this boy's Lao-Di but right now he's his A-Fei. The name knocks a single memory loose - knowing nothing, like he does now, and a warm and familiar voice calling him A-Fei. He looks at him and clutches at his hands. "Who am I?"

So on top of the search for llh fdb and a-fei have to hunt down whoever tried to kill dfs. Fdb knows how to exist with dfs; without the barrier of llh, he's lost on what to do with a-fei. But they relearn how to work together, how to coexist, and step by step a-fei regains his memories.

#fdb having to explain that he's dfs and no he's not looking to kill him would be a trip #Fdb insists they wear masks everywhere and a-fei almost says no but he sees how happy fdb looks when he puts it on #Do they find llh along the way? Who knows #But at the very end dfs looks at him and says “xiaobao”#And fdb cries #lian hua lou #mysterious lotus casebook #mlc #di feisheng #li lianhua #fang duobing #difang

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