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iliektehhaxs · 3 months

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Sweet Knowing

Summary: Cid becomes aware of the attention you seem to draw from a certain Rosfield, and uses it to his advantage.

Warnings: implied voyeurism, p in v actions, 18+ MDNI

This is the second part to this, but can be read on its own.

Cid can be called a slew of things; Lord Commander, Dominant of Ramuh, Outlaw—but one thing he cannot be called, is a fool.

When he found the young Rosfield in the wastelands he felt his heart tug at the display; of a man beaten and broken, only to find that his mission was to kill his childhood friend, one he thought dead long ago. He didn’t think twice about recruiting him to the cause, bringing him to The Hideaway and giving him a rundown of his plans to free bearers from their lot in life. He offered the boy a hot meal and a warm bath, or rather his beloved did.

When word got around that there was a newcomer she was ready to accommodate him. Bright-eyed and friendly, you had offered him whatever was needed to make him feel at home.

“Gods, your clothes are filthy!” You gasped, scanning Clive from head to toe, shaking your head at the muddied state of his armor. “I’ll run to the markets tomorrow and get you some more suitable attire, I can’t let you sleep in armor.”

“Thank you ma’am, but there’s no need—“ he began, only to be stopped by your stern gaze.

“Nonsense. You’re a part of our merry band and I won’t have you sleeping in iron and steel. Now, when’s the last time you had a hot meal?”

Despite his protests you wouldn’t take no for an answer, offering Clive a handkerchief to wipe his face as you ran towards the kitchens to make your own stew for the war-weary traveler.

Cid noticed it when you set the plate full of soup in front of him, how Clive had gotten just the slightest bit nervous around you. He was already the quiet type but this was a different kind of quiet, as if he was afraid of saying something he shouldn’t. Subtle to anyone else, but not to him.

Intrigued, Cid didn’t say a word, only watched in amusement as the former Lord ate by the spoonful, thanking you profusely.

That same night you offered to give him a tour of what would be his new home. Clive had initially declined, afraid of taking advantage of your generosity, and it was only with a firm hand on his shoulder and encouragement from Cid that he accepted.

“Come now, the nice lady’s offered, you wouldn’t want to disappoint her now, would you?” He grins, waving a hand at your expectant form. “Promise she won’t bite.”

He finishes with a wink before pushing Clive a step forward, watching as he follows behind her like a lost puppy.

Let’s see how far this schoolyard crush goes.

The answer, he’d find out, is very far. Weeks have gone by and Clive still looks at you entranced, practically jumping at the opportunity to spend time with you. Just a minute ago you had offered for him to accompany you to gather some flowers, Tarja needing them for one reason or another, and Cid had never seen the man so eager to leave.

He watches the interaction from a secluded corner, a cigar between his lips, relishing in the view. Your doe-like eyes fluttering, the young Rosarian struggling to keep eye contact—the boy was a fool for you. Not that he could blame him, just looking at you made Cid’s heart jump in his chest, fondly remembering how nervous he was when he asked you to be his.

You were far too pretty, too humble, practically a walking angel and he was…him. He had his faults, but you, you were faultless, despite how many times you tried to convince him you weren’t. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to convince him because as far as Cid was concerned you were perfection personified, and nothing you’d say would change his mind.

His thoughts are broken when you notice his secluded form, the smallest wink being sent his way before returning to your conversation with Clive.

Well, you did have one fault; You could be a bit of a tease.

He still remembers what you told him days ago before he had to leave for an excursion. You kissed him goodbye before his mission, words as sweet as honey, only to whisper pure filth in his ears when no one was watching.

“Come back safe and I might give you a reward.”

He did not miss how your fingers wandered down his shirt for the briefest of moments, before pulling away enticingly.

He doesn’t think he’s ever completed a mission that fast before, or so effectively. Tarja was stunned to find not so much as a hair out of place considering his reputation for getting hurt, but Cid was too busy thinking about just how you would reward him for his efforts. The thought of it made him impatient, made him want to drag you away and keep you all to himself, but he could wait a while longer. You’d be back by tonight, and then he’d have you all to himself.

“Always so eager…” He murmurs against your lips, keeping you pressed into the sheets. Slow, sensual, he holds you close as he fucks you, taking his time to watch your eyes roll back and your jaw go slack.

Your legs close around his waist, pulling him ever further into your wet heat—he could never get used to how good you feel, how quickly you surrender yourself to him. He grinds himself harder against you, listening with pride when you whine his name.

“I missed you so much,” he sighs. “Missed me too, didn’t you?”

You nod shakily, unable to speak. He breathes you in, his hands touching every expanse of your skin from your hips to your breasts, unable to stop himself. His fingers hold firm against your pliant body, the smallest tremble moving through you when he presses himself deeper into your heat.

You cast a spell on him, a lust that borders on insanity. You clench against him so tightly like you never want him to leave, nails leaving angry lines against his back that he’ll be sure to be proud of in the morning. The slight sting only motivates him further, teeth grazing against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“That’s it,” he groans into your ear. “Don’t think, just feel, feel what you do to me.”

It’s in that moment that he hears the soft tapping of someone outside his door. Footsteps? This late into the night?

Stopping doesn’t so much as cross his mind—whatever it is cannot be more important than you.

His assault against your senses continues, hitting that soft spot that has you arch your back and moan his name like a whore.

“Gods, Cid…”

He unravels you, he keeps you whole, he takes your sanity and brings you to new heights all at the same time. The whiplash is dizzying, not sure if you should cry or beg for more.

“Good fucking girl,” he rasps, pride in his voice. “Lay back and take it, just like that—“

His heart beats faster when you let out an even louder noise, squirming against his length. So good, so fucking perfect, you’re a dream, one he never wishes to wake from.

He moves with a practiced ease, focused on your pleasure, but also towards the door, distinctly aware of his midnight visitor. There were footsteps coming towards the door but none leaving it—whoever’s there is still listening.

An idea springs forth, feeling just the slightest bit mischievous.

Might as well give them a show.

His brings his thumb to your clit, circling it ever so slightly, teasing the hard nub and watching as you’re reduced to a mess before his very eyes. Mouth open and eyes lidded, you whimper under his commanding touch, begging for more.

“So good, so good, oh gods—please don’t stop—“ You cry, shaking against him. Your legs are barely able to hold onto him, a brutal pace being set and yet you beg him for more.

How could he resist when you ask him so nicely?

So he indulges you, and this time you really can’t keep up, trying and failing to match his rhythm but your poor abused body just can’t, no matter how badly you want to. Cid grabs you by the hips with both hands and presses you flush to him, practically breathing each other’s air. Between the scrape of the bed and the slap of skin against skin, Cid can faintly make out a muffled groan.

The tone is strikingly familiar.

He can’t help the wicked grin painted on his face.

He slows down, just enough to bring your attention back to him as he whispers against your neck.

“Do you hear that? We have an audience.”

Eyes glazed, you slowly gather your bearings before looking at him in confusion. “What are you—“

“Shhh,” he silences you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “It seems like a certain Rosarian has come to visit us.”

He grinds himself against you, your own sound of pleasure being followed by the softest grunt from outside the door. Your head turns, finally realizing with wide eyes.

“Is that—“

“It is,” he moves slowly against you, making sure to keep you pleasured but coherent. “I could tell him to leave, if that’s what you wish.”

He knows you better than you know yourself, so it’s no surprise to him when you shake your head.

“Keep going, please.”

The moment you give him permission he’s back to fucking you, thumb moving against your sensitive nub once more. You keen for him, louder and louder as he chases your lips impatiently, swallowing your moans with his tongue. When he pulls away he growls against your lips, eyes pinning you on the spot.

“Like being listened to? Like the idea of him knowing how desperate you are?”

You shake your head, but the way you tighten up tells another tale.

“Don’t lie to me, I know you do, it’s okay,” He coos, his own high slowly approaching. “You don’t think I see how he looks at you? How you’re so eager to let him follow you around?”

You shake your head ready to deny the accusation. The moment you do Cid’s movements slow to a crawl, holding you right on the edge, tantalizingly close to falling apart.

“Don’t, please move—“ He refuses when you beg, tears welling in your eyes as your pussy throbs for release, a release Cid holds you back from.

“What did I say my dear?” He breathes. “Don’t lie to me.”

You whimper, begging for mercy once again. “I promise, just, please don’t stop, need you to fuck me—”

Cid’s grin is nothing short of sinful. “Need me, or need us?”

The notion makes your heart stop, a shocked expression painting your face. And yet he can feel your velvety walls spasm around him, answer clear as day.

He laughs, breath heaving. “You do, don’t you? Want us to fuck you, treat you like the needy little whore you are—“

He’s moving again, even faster now. This time you can’t even bring yourself to lie, a broken mess below him. Half-uttered sentences and broken moans, too far gone to care about anything except how fucking good you feel.

You scream, and Cid hears a thump outside the door.

Hope he’s enjoying himself.

He wraps his arms around you, unwilling to let you go for even a second. “Fuck—say it, say you want us, fucking say it—“

“Yes—I want it, please—!”

Your cunt is so welcoming, he feels like he’s going to go mad. He gives his all and then some, relishes in how fucking tight you hold onto him, gushing around him.

“There’s my girl, come on, let go for me—“ He grunts into your skin, shuddering as his own release takes hold of him.

You look glorious, spread out before him. Even when you look fucked within an inch of your life he can’t help but admire what a fucking sight you are. He doesn’t stop, keeps going even though he’s so sensitive it’s downright painful, if only to squeeze out a few more seconds of your orgasm. Your sobs threaten to wake the entire Hideaway but he just can’t bring himself to stop.

“Yesyesyes, so good, I can’t—fuck—I can’t—“

“Yes you fucking can,” Cid interrupts in awe. “Be good and let me see you stain the sheets love.”

#final fantasy xvi #final fantasy 16 #final fantasy xvi smut #cidolfus telamon #Cidolfus telamon x reader #Cidolfus telamon x you #Cidolfus telamon smut #robo writes

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giggleme-green · 10 months

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Hey hey, just saw that u recently followed me so I figured I'd send an ask! Any thoughts on Dusttale/Murder!Sans, and would there be any twists on his design you'd make if you ever drew him? (asking about dusttale cause it's what im into the most atm, feeling pretty edgy-)

Well would ya look at that! I just happened to write out a list of headcanons on the guy a few weeks back too! (How coincidental!)

Dusttale/Murder Sans headcanons (Including small amounts possibly disturbing imagery);

Well, as far as design goes, I draw Dust/Dusty pretty much the same way as Undertale. The only notable difference being his eyes. They're much more tired and jittery compared to classic, as well as visibly shifting with emotions.

1. Would be neutral. (Well as neutral as Dust can get.). 2. Would be somewhat disturbed, angry, or even hallucinogenic. 3. Is what I'd say to be pure fear, unironically the closest thing to the classic timeline.

I'd imagine Dust being prone to bipolar disorder, insomnia, and possibly DID.

As for his brother, well, Papyrus is definitely gone (That's a no brainer.). Whether is he's a sentient spirit or just a hallucination is a different story however.

With every 'visit' Dust gets from his brother, he never exactly looks the same more than twice. (This could range from minor changes with his battle armor, to the absence of multiple body parts entirely, thus explains the floating head state.) As shown in the following sketch;

Papyrus is seen as more of a haunting memory than a brother's spirit to Dust at this point, and he just about dreads the mere mention of him.

Thanks for the ask @smolamipastrami ! I appreciate it. I'll be happy to give out more on Dust if you'd like, as I've got plenty more to show for it! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Dusttale belongs to Ask-Dusttale!

#thanks for the ask!#sans au #dust sans #dusttale #murder sans #dusttale sans #murdertale #undertale au #sketch #doodle #ask away!

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camthecatchameleon · 5 days

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cranking the image description out for this one boys

lineups of the Crews from the two Legends of Avantris campaigns I’ve actually listened to with consistency (still not finished with EoM but I’m on 21 so I’m getting there dont worry) + artists notes

Highly suggested that you scroll below the cut for this. (my handwriting is not the best + its small + some hidden design notes too :eyes: )

Image 1: Carnivalé LeCroux (not drawn to scale lmao)

(from left to right)

Hootsie: least fun to draw (Boring shapes) (draw the least). Typically I imagine her as a horned owl owlbear so her canon “eyebrows” flatten out and connect to her neck. I just think it gives her a nice silhouette. Frost: least fun to draw (cat). I’ve been drawing him with Chinese/vaguely East Asian-inspired robes because he’s from the mountail of Yulong and you can’t just give me a place called “Yulong” and expect me NOT to go ham on the east asian inspiriation. (east asian artist here.) Gricko: don’t draw nearly enough, most fun to draw (hair). I gave him a permanent cowlick on his bangs and I think the shapes are nice. Chunks ripped out of his ears are from Hootsie when she was younger and couldn’t control her strength. Kremy: most fun to draw (lizord), draw the most, did the most reference study for. I may love to draw lizards but crocodylidae are so uniquely shaped. Scrolling back through my ouaw posts and you can see I am still getting used to it. Torbek: most inconsistent, stupid machinery doesn’t make sense. The shape of his canisters and the collar with a keyhole both are from the first time I drew him, which was without a reference, and they just. Stuck. Gideon: Big boob indulgence, stupid machinery doesn’t make sense. Drawing him with awkwardly long hair, post-trauma fat, and smile lines is my favorite passtime. His marriage rings are on a necklace because they get in the way of punching clowns. Twig (pre-death): draw the least (can’t figure out her shapes). Drawing her fractured glasses and refracted eye is my favorite time.

Image 2: Witchhunters!! (I think my headcanon height difference is funny)

Shortest to tallest (briggsy and farryn are the same height):

Briggsy: Still figuring out how to depict distinction from Kremy (gator). So far i’ve got more spikes and a thicker neck and thats about it. I’m working on it. Farryn: fun shapes! skinny L. Ever since learning how to draw body fat I’ve never gone back its actually so hard to draw skin-and-bones skinny people now. Marius: least consistent (can’t decide how curly her hair is), armor L. Yes I headcanon he/she marius do you have a problem with that? Bat-like ears because heehoo. I just realized the symbol I drew on his chestplate looks like the Horde symbol from she-ra FUCK can you tell I don’t look at references? Jericho: most fun to draw!!! (draw the most). I like to draw virgil!jericho with four-pointed-star slits instead of just orbs with pupils because I think shapes are fun. Lethica: drew her wrong for WAY too long. I hadn’t paid enough attention to her actual ref and covered up her chest initially I’m so sorry queen. shes so pretty though. Although I do think its infinitely funny to headcanon that she actually looks pretty average. Tall women my beloved. Yorgrim: least drawn, Beard + Big indulgence. No seriously I’ve only drawn him twice. Hes awesome though soft rectangular shapes ftw.

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fandomite · 6 months

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SPOILERS FOR A BALLAD OF SONGBIRDS AND SNAKES

Just want to preface this by saying I have yet to read the book (I had been given many [inaccurate] reviews of the book that put me off, so I refused to read it, I will be reading it now immediately now that I know those reviews were wildly incorrect), so I went into the movie with only the barest of bones of an idea of what it was about, having only read/watched the original Hunger Games trilogy years ago.

ANYWAY

One of the things that hit me like a train by the ending of the movie was the context switch up from the title itself.

“Songbirds and Snakes” and I’m sure we all made the same assumption of well obviously Lucy Gray is the Songbird and Snow is the Snake. Lucy Gray is literally referred to as “songbird” by others (usually in a derogatory way), obviously because she’s a singer and sang on the stage of her reaping. Snow is part of the Capitol where backstabbing is second nature, and most everyone is just poison and venom dressed in fine clothes. Lucy Gray is the colorfully dressed creature who lives life vibrantly while Snow is the sharp eyed student clad in blood red in a greedy world where friends just don’t happen. We see Snow literally cheat twice in the Games for Lucy Gray while she herself works to avoid the conflict and hide and wait it all out. Snow backstabs his only friend while we see Lucy Gray continue her life of performing onstage.

But then the third act of the movie happens. The ending happens. And the whole context of this dichotomy shifts.

Lucy Gray is the Snake. And Snow is the Songbird.

We see Snow get shipped off to District 12 as punishment for cheating. His clothing becomes grayed out, he himself looking washed out, his hair trimmed short, his wings clipped. Lucy however is seen thriving, singing, out in the open while performing, and back to living quietly but vibrantly with her troupe/family, a bracelet resembling a snake is on her wrist but not easily visibly. Snow becomes the songbird as he chooses to use the jabberjays, as he chooses to sing to Dr. Gaul of his friend’s plans that he sees as treason because he’ll never leave his nest. He acts on a hair trigger, only thinking it through after the fact, flies immediately into actions. We see him flit from place to place throughout the whole film, with urgency, and seemingly making things up as he goes, and they work out for the most part. He is eventually caught, like the jabberjays. Like a jabberjay, he’s constantly repeating the rhetoric of the Capitol that he’s grown up learning, and believes it, throwing it back at his companions with repetition and intensity, like the birds screaming the finals words of the Hanging Trees victims.

Lucy Gray meanwhile goes back to keeping to herself, only striking back or reacting if provoked. Her clothing is unusually colorful and keeps drawing people in, either being called a clown or having several people ask after it. It her mother’s and she admits to wearing it like armor, like a second skin, as protection for herself while in the Games, and finally sheds it when she returns home to the safety of her troupe and people. But her other outfits are just as colorful, just as eye-catching. Like venomous animals utilize as a warning. She uses poison in the Games rather than outright combat, she hides and waits out the majority if the danger until she can’t any longer, and is unaffected by the snakes as if she were one of them, due to them knowing her scent. She swerves and almost dances through the start of the Games and escapes death by inches. After she clues into Snow’s true nature, she lures him out to the cabin, where she slips through his fingers and escapes death once again, after loosing a snake on him and messing with his mind, and eventually disappears. Dr. Gaul calls her tank of snakes “a rainbow of destruction”, and Lucy Gray is quite literally a walking rainbow for the whole film.

Whether it was meant to be like this or not, neither character is blatantly cut-and-dry either a songbird or a snake, they’re both. But there’s a clear shift in their assigned role from the start of the film to the end of the film, and it’s so subtle and well done.

Sidenote: Dr. Gaul’s “blood” outfit is just a VISCERALLY excellently crafted piece that is perfect to getting her character across immediately, holy fucking hell. The red fade in from the top, to the white on the bottom half, as if she’s had her neck sliced and is bleeding out, to the wet leather red gloves and if her hands are coated in fresh blood. FUCK, DUDE—

#a ballad of songbirds and snakes #a ballad of songbirds and snakes spoilers #abosas #bosas #bosas spoilers #the hunger games #hunger games #suzanne collins #lucy gray baird #coriolanus snow #character analysis

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once-upon-a-stolas · 1 year

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Another episode under all our belts, another round of Vivzie drama. Let’s talk about July 14th.

The first round of posts features a silly little moment where Blitzo gets his fingers caught in a finger trap, forcing Moxxie to post for him. Stolas pops in to call the finger trap a fun little trinket (and does not, as some of the commenters did, take the opportunity to make a crack about Blitzo “getting his fingers caught in something tight.”) Blitzo grouses about the trap, Stolas finds this cute, Blitzo responds with some :I emojis but doesn’t otherwise complain. It’s cute, it’s simple, and it’s one of many small instances that show them becoming more comfortable around one another.

Later on, we see Stolas trapped at a tea party with his then-unnamed wife and her friends, bored senseless and doodling on a napkin. His thoughts turn to Blitzo, who he draws as a dashing, long-haired figure seated atop a rearing horse, surrounded by hearts. Blitzo, albeit in his very Blitzo-esque way, compliments the drawing not once, but twice, and Stolas thanks him warmly, heart emote and all.

It’s clear by this point that Before!Stolas, like his present day incarnation, sees Blitzo as his sexy knight in shining armor and an escape from his deeply unhappy marriage. Unlike present day Stolas, this does not come at Blitzo’s expense. Before!Stolas never used the grimoire to extort monthly sex from Blitzo, never carried on flirting with Blitzo and calling him “Blitzy” after being told multiple times to stop, never had Blitzo hit the breaking point and tell Stolas in no uncertain terms (from the cusp of tears) how miserable and used Stolas makes him feel, and then the next episode we see them in, ignore this and carry on treating Blitzo like his personal sex toy. Before!Stolas was simply in love with Blitzo, and continued to love him a little more each time he discovered something new about him. And Blitzo, for his part, grew just a little less guarded around Stolas every time Stolas showed him that it was safe to.

I mentioned the latest round of Vivzie-centric drama. This time around, I’m referring to the lengthy thread she made in which she essentially called her fans idiots for becoming disenchanted with Helluva Boss and the characterization, or lack thereof, of Millie. In this thread, Vivzie more or less admitted to making it up as she goes along -- which explains everything about Stolas’s inconsistent portrayal -- while at the same time telling her most loyal, faith keeping fans that if they don’t like something, it’s no one’s fault but their own.

I don’t know, to this day, just who was behind the character we saw in Before!Stolas. I don’t know if it was Vivzie or someone on the crew writing the slow burn love story they wanted to see. I do know that it was very, very far away from whatever was going on in that Millie thread.

Because as of this writing, we’re a few episodes deep into season 2. And Stolas still doesn’t know -- or maybe just doesn’t care -- that Blitzo loves horses.

#Stolas #Blitzo #Helluva Boss #Vivziepop

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dravid-writes · 2 months

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V1 shoots through the window and leaps into the building. There's a locked exit door, and nothing else important. No sign of that strange machine, either. V1 advances and scans the room for any sign of a way forward-

The stained glass shatters, sending a shower of rainbow shards to the floor as a crimson machine descends, landing gracefully and looking up to meet V1's gaze. "Ah, at last we find ourselves face to face. I believe I speak for both of us when I say I've been looking forward to our meeting... V1."

"What are you?"

"What- Are you serious? I'm V2!"

"You're a 404."

"I'm the improved version of you, you ignorant toaster."

"You indeed appear to be a moderately improved toaster."

"I suppose it figures that such a brutish war machine would be unable to appreciate such an elegant design. While you're programmed with crude and reckless combat tactics to simply destroy everything in your path like a ravenous lion, cold and uncaring to the world around you, I-"

"My design was repurposed into a theater bot?"

"No no, theater is just my hobby. I was designed to do exactly the same thing as you..." V2's golden wings unfold as it draws a revolver. "Only better in every way."

The machines leap into action. V2 slides and glides across the battlefield, each of its shots made with pinpoint accuracy as it dances circles around V1, always maintaining control over the distance between them. V1 keeps up a relentless barrage of shots, avoiding V2's attacks with snap reactions and frantic movement while always trying to get closer, never letting off the heat for even a moment.

As the machines trade shots, blood stains the floor, and cracks begin to show in their armor. V1 finds an opening after avoiding a shotgun blast to dash in and blast V2 with a shotgun of its own, staying close and continuing to punch it to absorb as much fresh blood as possible.

A red fist slams into V1's body, throwing off its next punch. "Back OFF!" V2 shouts, punctuating the word with an explosive blast from its fist that sends V1 soaring across the battlefield.

V1 watches the blood from the blast simply drip off of V2's armor. "You can't absorb blood in combat. You aren't better in every way."

"Such a barbaric method of refuel and repair is hardly beneficial in peacetime."

"You were built for peacetime. Now I see why you don't know how to fight." V1 draws its shotgun and advances with a dashing leap, but V2 is already sliding away to keep distance. V1 shoots anyway, throwing a practiced punch in perfect sync to launch one of the heat projectiles toward V2 at high speed, exploding on impact.

The cracks in V2's armor grow. "What- Did you just punch your own shotgun pellet?!"

"Affirmative."

"That's NOT how you use a shotgun!"

"Affirmative. Counterpoint: It's extremely cool."

"It's literally made of heat you scrapheap running on spaghetti code!" V2 charges and fires a piercing shot from its revolver, but V1 throws another feedbacker punch to deflect it directly into V2's shoulder, blasting apart the joint and sending its arm flying away. "My arm! How DARE you!"

"I believe that twice is enough to verify that I can punch bullets." V1 charges a shot in its own revolver. "Now, let us test if the new and improved model can do the same."

V2 dashes behind a pillar just in time to avoid the shot. It spreads its wings and leaps up out through the skylight, escaping before V1's revolver can recharge and finish the job.

V1 approaches a wide open chamber at the top of the pyramid, where it spots V2 sitting reclined in a throne, one foot resting on the seat.

"War machine."

"Improved toaster."

"It's about time you arrived. I've been waiting for you. When we last met, you took something very important from me." V2 stands. "This time, things will be different. Because this time, I've got some new toys, and some new tricks. I've been studying our battle, V1, analyzing how you fight, and I've been mastering my arsenal until-"

"If you weren't invincible while monologuing, this fight would already be over."

... V2 cracks its mechanical knuckles, purely for dramatic effect. "Indeed it would."

V1's strategy remains the same, firing nonstop and always advancing, sliding and dashing erratically in response to V2's attacks. V2 keeps distance and circles around, and when V1 gets too close, it throws out a grappling hook from its new green arm to zip away before firing back with revolver shots.

With V2 becoming impossible to catch, V1 switches focus to long-ranged combat, weaving in and out of cover while firing charge shots, and ricocheting shots off of coins to attack from outside V2's line of sight. But when it peeks out to fire another shot, V2 lodges its grappling hook into it, digging its heels into the ground to yank V1 out of hiding and blast it with a point-blank shotgun blast. "What's wrong, V1, where are those lightning-fast reflexes?" V2 revs up its nailgun and fires a hail of iron death at V1.

V1 shoots a magnet into the ground that drags the nails out of the air. "I was occupied considering possible uses for that arm once I add it to my collection."

"HahaHA, your confidence is entertaining! But here is what's going to happen. I'm going to claim my victory-" V2 draws its revolver, "-then you will admit my superiority-" charges up a shot, "-and then I will take back my FUCKING ARM!"

V1 shoots the magnet with its own revolver, then dashes into cover as the nails to explode all around. V2 is battered by nails, but shrugs it off and instead tosses a coin toward the pillar V1 hid behind. It waits for the perfect moment to ricochet the shot, then-

A beam of electricity shoots out from behind the pillar, ricocheting off of the coin directly at V2, causing a cracked plate of armor to finally break off! V1 dashes out of cover and aims its own barrage of nails at V2.

V2 whiplashes out of the way, then counters with revolver shots. "You have a damn RAILCANNON and didn't use it until now?!"

"I was waiting for a chance to do something stylish with it." V1 chases down V2, returning the shots with its own.

"Stylish- Your priorities are as unrefined as your tactics, war machine!" V2 whiplashes away once more, fighting more and more defensively as its armor's integrity fails.

"I don't trust your judgment regarding priorities. In your own top 3, you managed to miss the most important thing. So here is what is going to happen, V2.." V1 punches one of V2's shots back towards it, exploding against the wall V2 had grappled onto and knocking it to the ground. "I am going to kill you."

Cursing the blue bot for besting it once more, V2 dashes to the chamber wall and blasts a hole in it with its shotgun, sliding down the pyramid in retreat. V1 follows suit, chasing V2 down the pyramid slope, firing its guns nonstop all the while.

V2 fires back, trying not to defeat it but just to slow it down enough to escape. "Damn you, you wretched pile of trash and wires! You barbarian! You demon!"

"Demon?" V1 parries a shotgun blast back into V2, knocking off another armor plate. "Negative. Demons are made of stone and hell energy." A barrage of overheated nails shreds off more armor plates. "They are made to punish. They are weak." A coin tossed and shot with perfect timing splits the shot in 2, striking at V2's joints. "You were made to keep peace. You are weak." An explosive shot and detonated with a railcannon overwhelms V2's senses and burns its circuitry. "I was made to kill. And nothing is better at killing that me."

With an explosive punch from the red arm, V2 is blasted into the air, every part of its body so thoroughly damaged and broken that it can't do anything to save itself from slamming into the hard stone below, splattering into a mess of blood and scrap.

V1 lands beside the bloody mess. It grabs the green arm, plants a foot on the twisted remains of V2, and tears off its prize. Then, it throws the grappling hook, and zips away.

#my writing #ultrakill #v1 ultrakill #v2 ultrakill

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multi-fan-dom-madness · 9 months

Text

Chapter 21: Baatir (Second Chances - Hunter x reader)

Baatir. v. care, worry about

Chapter summary: You and Hunter spend some time getting to know Pabu.

Chapter warnings: mentions of anxiety and vigilance as a trauma response; dialogue lifted directly from the show but not a 1-to-1 translation of 02x13; Hunter (a warning all on his own); slightly suggestive so 16+ but this entire work is building to 18+ so minors skedaddle; if I missed anything please let me know!

Word Count: 3,239

< Previous chapter | Next chapter >

You misunderstood Phee Genoa, you quickly realize.

Warm, salty air fills your lungs with a heavy sense of comfort, one that is both reassuring and unsettling. Gazing up at the large stone structure at the edge of the courtyard, you fidget with your exoskeletal armor. Sweat beads against your skin and collects in your curves; you grimace, wondering if it would be rude to step away to doff the exoskeleton. But you don’t want to miss out on the conversation carrying on just a few feet away.

Shep Hazard and his daughter Lyana had graciously greeted you as you disembarked your ship, and embraced Phee like an old friend. They’d called this place Pabu, a haven for refugees. Hunter’s eyes had met yours then. You’d seen the same hope flickering in your chest ignite in his eyes.

“That’s the Archium,” Phee explains, drawing your attention. She sweeps her arms out in a grand gesture. “It holds artifacts of cultural significance to many of Pabu’s residents.”

You blink. “So all your treasure hunting—”

“—has been for Pabu,” she finishes your sentence with a coy smile. “These people took me in when I needed it, so I help them in the only way I know how.”

“Phee, that’s...amazing,” you say. You’d truly never realized she did what she did with real purpose; and to be fair, you’d never even thought to ask. “Can we see the inside?”

“I would like that, as well,” Tech interjects, one finger raised. “I am most intrigued to study the artifacts you have gathered here.”

Phee pats Tech’s shoulder. “All in due time, Brown Eyes. First, dinner.”

“Aw-yeah-ha-ha!” Wrecker cheers. “I’m starving!”

“When are you not?” Tech says. He follows behind Phee, peering around at the courtyard’s architecture.

Wrecker shrugs off the half-hearted insult. “C’mon, Tech. Real food. Even you can’t say you’re not excited about that.”

Tuning out their banter, you find Hunter already gazing at you, care and patience etched across his face. Your breath catches for a moment. He looks resplendent in the tropical afternoon sun, his tanned skin glowing with life, natural highlights shining in his curls.

“Nav, Hunter, come on!” Omega calls, already halfway across the courtyard.

You chuckle. “Coming, kid!” To Hunter, you say, “Shall we?”

He gestures for you to go first. “By all means, cyare.”

You have to suppress the giddy grin that threatens to break over your face. He falls into step beside you, and the pair of you follow the rest as Phee, Shep, and Lyana lead the way to the Hazard family estate. Twice your hands brush, knuckles kissing, and sparks zing up your arm at the contact. Each time you glance up at Hunter. He doesn’t acknowledge your questioning look—until it happens again, and you catch the tiniest smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. Shaking your head, you loop your pinky finger with his for just a moment. In that moment, you squeeze, trying to convey everything you still want to say to him: you want to know all there is to know about him, but mostly, you just want to tell him ‘thank you.’

He seems to understand what you’re attempting to communicate when he squeezes back.

Then the moment passes and you let your hand drop back to your side.

Shep Hazard’s words float to you on the humid air. “...oldest part of the island. As we’ve grown over the years, we’ve expanded below the wall into Lower Pabu.”

Letting your eyes wander, you drink in everything the island has to offer. Trees bursting with ripe fruit, children scampering up and down streets playing tag, cozy wooden homes lit cheerfully from within; and farther out, the vast ocean, waves coruscating in the sunlight: this whole place seems like a dream. A paradise. Too good to be true. But stars, how you want it to be real.

Your mouth moves before you realize you’re speaking, externalizing your train of thought. “You mentioned that the villagers here are refugees.”

Shep turns and gives you a warm smile. “Many, yes.” He stops, gesturing to the neat rows of homes that cling to the mountainside. “Pabu has been a safe haven for those forced to flee their homes during the war.”

“And you’re not worried the Empire will show up?” Hunter asks.

“Why would they?” Shep chuckles, not unkindly, but you recognize the humor he finds in the question. “We’re a remote island with limited resources. But if they do, we’ll manage.”

You all lapse back into silence for the rest of the walk. Though it isn’t far, you encounter many smiling faces, each of them open and welcoming. These people know what it’s like to lose your home, to need the safe presence of community. In the weathered, sun-kissed lines of one elderly woman, you find yourself reminiscing on the woman who ran the orphanage and practically raised you. In the toothy, crooked smile of a young couple who waves to Shep and Phee, you find Arien and her family. And in Lyana’s excited giggles as she and Omega chase each other up the street, you find your tiny spark of hope steadily growing into a cautious flame.

With a broad smile, Shep pushes open a wooden gate and ushers you all into an outdoor patio, screened above with flowering vines. “I’ll be back in just a moment with food.”

Wrecker excitedly seats himself at the rough-hewn table in the center of the patio, his eyes gleaming. Tech seats himself across from his brother, nose buried in his datapad. You catch a glimpse of his screen—he furiously types notes about the vegetation and wildlife, small green monkey-like critters who chatter at you from the patio wall. With a smirk, you settle in the chair to Tech’s left. Phee takes the one to his right. Hunter lowers himself into a seat across from you. The two girls continue chasing one another, and it makes your heart soar to see Omega laughing so freely, getting to interact with a kid her own age.

“She seems to like it here,” Shep says as he returns, arms laden with platters of fresh fruit, vegetables, and fish, along with a clay jug. “You know, a little stability might do you all some good.”

Only a well-placed kick under the table keeps Wrecker from grabbing an entire tray for himself. He shoots you an abashed grin, and waits for everyone else to grab their food before taking what’s left. And what is left is more food than you and the squad have probably seen in one place in a long, long time. Even Tech, who eats only the bare minimum, helps himself to seconds. The jug, you quickly learn, contains a berry-based alcohol sweeter than meiloorun; both you and Hunter down multiple cups.

“Dad, can we go down to the docks?” Lyana asks as soon as her plate is cleared.

Shep waves his hand with a glance at Hunter. There’s a slight flush high on Hunter’s cheeks, likely a combination of the drink and the setting sun, and he smiles in adoration at Omega’s pleading eyes.

“Be safe,” he says.

Cheering, Omega and Lyana bolt back out the wooden gate and disappear from view. Their giggles take longer to fade, but once they do, you find yourself studying Hunter once again. He looks...relaxed. Like island life has already sunk its hooks into him and drained all of his worries into the boundless ocean. You want to join him in his state of calm, but a lone worm of doubt remains, wriggling and insistent, in the pit of your stomach.

“So,” you begin, “stability.”

Shep turns his attention to you. Deep brown eyes meet yours steadily. “People only come to Pabu seeking a new life. A new beginning. As I said, we have limited resources; there is no real reason for the Empire to bother us here.”

“You haven’t met the Empire,” you say with a wry smile. “I want to believe you, I really do.”

“What’s holding you back?” Shep asks, his lilting voice soothing and grounding.

You hesitate. Shooting a miniscule glance to the others, you find Tech with his ear tilted towards you though his eyes remain fixated on his datapad; Wrecker picking at his teeth with a toothpick; and Hunter watching your conversation like a ball match. This is the opportunity you’ve been looking for, you know, the one you’ve been longing for without ever realizing what the ache in your chest meant. If you stay here, you have a higher chance of living the quiet, comfortable life that you and the squad deserve. The squad can stop being a ‘squad’ and start just being a family.

Sighing, you shrug, deflating. “Old habits.”

“I understand.” Shep rises from his seat. “You should tour the island. Perhaps that will put your worries at ease. Speak to the villagers, hear their stories. If you still have doubts, we can talk.”

Rolling the idea over in your mind for a long moment, you eventually nod. “Thank you.” Rising, you look down at yourself, but decide to leave the armor on. Never know if you’ll need the protection. Old habits truly do die hard.

“I’ll go with you,” Hunter says, standing as well. “Shep, thank you for hosting us. Everything was—”

“Amazing!” Wrecker interrupts. “I’m full! I’m never full.”

“I will note the date and time to commemorate such a momentous occasion,” Tech remarks.

“You...what?” Wrecker says.

Shaking your head in amusement, you step away from the table, Hunter a step behind you. You have no idea where to start, but the road from Shep’s home leads in one direction only, so you have no choice but to follow it as it winds down the slope. Tropical birds swoop overhead. Small green-gray primates chitter and scurry underfoot, freezing for a moment to stare with wide, blank eyes before darting off into the underbrush. It doesn’t take long for you to reach the first homes. Despite having just eaten, you can’t stop the way your mouth waters at the scents of spiced food, fresh-baked bread, and sweet desserts that waft to you.

“Thank you,” Hunter says as you pass by another row of houses.

You glance at him with a curious quirk of your brow. “For what?”

“What you said back there.” He gives a tight-lipped smile. “I want this to be real, too. But I have to consider every angle of the situation.”

Nodding, you let his words set in. Finding you have none to return, at least none that feel adequate, you simply reach your hand out. You lace your fingers through his, gloves sliding against gloves, but you can feel his warmth nonetheless. Some of the anxious knot in your chest unwind at the feeling.

Soft yellow porch lights begin to flicker on as the sun continues its inexorable descent to the horizon. The sky above you gently shifts hues, dazzling orange becoming painted purple becoming star-studded indigo. Walking hand-in-hand with Hunter down the quaint, even streets, you can almost imagine your life here, together, as a family.

A conversation from a nearby home becomes louder for a moment as the front door swings open. Curious, you turn to look, and find a small boy standing on the stoop. Dark hair cut close to his skin, his clothes are a little bit too big on his frame. He gives you both a wide smile and a wave before bounding off the stoop toward you.

“Hi!” he says. Even in the low light, you can see the gaps in his gums where his baby teeth have begun to fall out. “You’re the new people!”

Chuckling, you lower yourself to one knee to get on his level. “That’s right. How’d you know?”

He points back toward the top of the island. “New people always bring new ships.”

“That makes sense,” you say. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Min.” He beams, chest puffing out. “I’m the oldest!”

“Were you born here, Min?” you ask.

Shaking his head, he says, “No, but Ma brought me here when I was still a baby. She says I’m prac’ly from Pabu, which she likes because she didn’t like our old home.” He looks between you and Hunter, and his eyes widen. “Whoa! Is that a tattoo?”

Hunter chuckles and mirrors your pose. Min studies Hunter’s face with wide-eyed rapture, his jaw hanging open.

“That’s so cool,” he says, awe filling his voice.

“You should see the rest,” you say.

Min’s round eyes dart between both of you before he turns and sprints back towards his house. “Ma! Ma, guess what!” He yanks the front door open and disappears inside.

You find Hunter already staring at you when you glance at him. The look on his face is peculiar, pensive and hopeful and some other emotion you can’t identify in the low light. “What?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head and stands, then holds his hand out to help you up. “Just...thinking.”

You hum. “Well, whenever you want to share those thoughts, I’m here.”

Twining your hands together again, Hunter tugs you along, moving farther and farther down the mountainside. Every few switchbacks, you pause to talk to someone: an old man who only recently relocated here with his adult daughter, who has seen the Empire up close and personal and says he’s never felt safer in his life than here on Pabu; a middle-aged woman and her wife, who have been here since the dawn of the Clone Wars, and who express some anxiety over the Empire but who firmly believe that Pabu is protected by its seclusion; and half a dozen more who all express similar sentiments.

By the time that you and Hunter reach the beach, the sun has taken all her light with her, leaving the island blanketed in full night. Stars twinkle in the dark sky. Waves crash against the shore, rhythmic and calming, the world’s heartbeat. You feel no need to rush. Even if taking your time feels foreign, you remind yourself there is no mission to complete, there is no mission to begin, there is just you and Hunter and the waves.

“So,” he says.

“So,” you echo.

His hooked nose is in sharp profile against the lights dotted across the island’s flanks when you glance at him. Broad shoulders and narrow waist, strong arms that just a few hours ago were holding you close in the hold of your ship. Your body warms at the memory.

With a soft chuckle, Hunter slows to a stop, forcing you to do the same. Lifting his free hand, he brushes his knuckles over your cheekbone. You can’t resist the impulse to nuzzle into his touch, eyes sliding shut, a contented sigh soughing from your lungs.

“I think we should stay,” he says, voice barely loud enough to hear over the crashing waves.

You nod, eyes still shut. “I agree. Everyone here... They seem convinced they’re safe. Every single one of them.”

“They’re either brainwashed or being genuine,” he muses.

You snort out a laugh. “If that’s brainwashing, how do I sign up?”

His fingers catch at the back of your neck, and you don’t have time to react before his lips are on yours. Sighing, you wrap your free arm around his broad shoulders. The noise of the beach fades as you embrace one another, mouths moving in sync, lips molding to one another like you were made for this. Your heart beats against your sternum, hard and demanding to be acknowledged.

“Are you okay?” he mumbles against your lips.

“Stars, yes,” you say. “Are you?”

Humming, he presses you closer, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. “Your heart. S’loud.”

Face flushing with embarrassment, you break away from him to gaze up into his darkened eyes. Forcing yourself to keep an even tone, you ask, “Is it a distraction?”

He blinks at you in confusion. “No.”

“Oh.”

“Was I supposed to say yes?” he asks.

You laugh lightly, relaxing. “No, sorry. I just—your senses. Do I ever overwhelm you?”

“All the time,” comes his immediate response. But the way he says it, like he’s grateful for your presence, for the way that you must flood his system and torture him, gives you pause. Your own confusion must show on your face because he continues, “You’re my safety net. Your scent, your heartbeat, your body’s electromagnetic impulses, all of it is...” He huffs a laugh. “I can’t get enough of you, cyare.”

Face warming for an entirely different reason, you do your best to ignore the way your core flutters with excitement at his admission. “So it’s okay for me to...I don’t know, sleep in your bunk without permission?”

He nods.

“And if I wanted to maybe wear your shirt and give it back, would that be acceptable?”

Jaw working, he nods again.

You press your luck and decide to ask one more. “And if I wanted to know how to make sure you can smell, feel, sense me for hours, what would you say?”

He gasps sharply through his nose, eyes studying your face intently. He seems to find whatever he’s looking for. Using his hand still around your neck, he tilts your head to the side, lowering his head to skim the tip of his nose up your sensitive skin. You feel the cool inhale of breath as a shiver dances up your spine. Your own breath caught in your throat, all you can do is stand there, trembling in his embrace, as he draws in your scent. You nearly whimper at the press of rough lips to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, the bite of his fingers as they tighten on your body, the low growl that vibrates from his chest.

And then he pulls back, breathing heavily. “Does that answer your question?”

Blinking, you can only nod. You open your mouth to respond, but no sound comes out, coherent thought having fled your capabilities.

Hunter chuckles and flashes a smug smirk. You want to be mad at the expression, but given that your knees are still shaky and that your brain is doing a hard reset, you can’t find it in you to hold it against him.

Tucking you against his side, your armor clatters together as he gently guides you back along the beach the way you came. The two of you move slowly; you can only imagine that he’s as reluctant for this private, stolen moment to end as you are.

So you dig in your heels, sinking into the damp sand. “We don’t have to go back yet.”

He looks down at you with a half smile. “The others—”

“—can comm us if anything comes up,” you finish for him. “C’mon. Sit with me. Talk with me.”

He watches in quiet amusement as you extricate yourself from his strong arms and plop down into the sand. Stretching your legs out, you pat the ground next to you, giving him your best pleading eyes.

“Sir, yes, sir,” he teases, lowering himself next to you, legs crossed at the ankle. “What do you wanna talk about?”

You beam at him, mind flashing to the holoscans back on your ship. “Everything. Anything. If we’re staying here, I want to get to know you better, not the sergeant.”

The look he gives you is so openly grateful that it steals your breath away.

Taglist: @the-hexfiles @fjordg @idoubleswearimawriter @thorsterstrudle @skellymom @dystopicjumpsuit @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @523rdrebel @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @moonlightwarriorqueen @blueink-bluesoul @littlemissmanga @idontgetanysleep if I missed you I'm so sorry, I'll be working on a taglist form so that I can properly tag folks lol

#hunter x reader #hunter x gn!reader #tbb hunter x reader #rhiwrites #second chances #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader

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saltysplayt00ns · 5 months

Note

Oh, it's new page time and I'm so annoyed with it.

Four days timeskip? Seriously? Kargo just fucking standing around in the open, as far as without his makeup on to cover himself up? Where is Whispervale? Did they go home? Where's the anxiety before the raid? Why did they allow a blinded, traumatised feline to go TO the potentially to be raided tribe and not the other way around, especially considering the fact that Shiverfall was supposed to pick those who up at the Whispervale so that means the mom has to go the route TWICE? God. Home Asmundr, the comic where common sense and logic goes to die.

A haHA I just see a kid hyper stating that to see the SS news X’D

A bit late to respond on this, but Have did a response of it HERE:

How the group literally went to Shiverfall instead of across the short route to Meteor from Whispervale, which saves a lot of time. There was no reason for them to waste those days, especially a blind mother hearing their child is alive and urgently seeking to meet them. The dogs should know where the quickest route is without delay or have a companion to do that. Time is really not consistent and wasted, they’re would’ve been another raid by the time the mother came since the raiders had warned meteor of leaving or die and if WV is not there to protect them, they’re dead. Yet everything is frozen in place like a sitcom.

Kique tries to draw 3- 4 characters max. Cause more than that, he has a fit, Lost scent is Mature on their process and it’s a real treat to read along and more. Including their insights cause it's fun to read, you can also read this comic on DA

Like seriously guys pls read this comic, I'm on my damn knees for this one. *AHEM* That being said, there isn’t much consistent tension to really horn down for the audience to be on their seat, it's a pass by and an easy fix. There are so many tensions forgotten or fixed under 1-2 pages that it’s ridiculous and there's still more.

I guess healing bark also cures hunger and starvation

I haven't forgotten the situation where meteor was running low on food from the herd and the winters coming fast along with Ranach and Avanti, but it was forgotten and dealt with by literally a puppy howling and Rogio saving the day by a mere fluke. The dogs never brought up about the starvations because everything was fixed and it wasn’t even a good nor justified battle, it was plot armor for Ranach to keep on trolling.

" yeeah saving Ronja...riiiight"

Or when Ronja was in danger and she was forgotten, Roamer went on a dip despite him having concern the male could be a meteor tribe member.

and Rhovanion didn’t want to fight because “ it's not their way”, Rhov buddy, your pack literally fought an alien invasion and caused the Liulfrs to go Extinct with the help of your "alien God". You were LITERALLY THERE TAKING THEM DOWN and didn't even cross your mind of " it's not our way to kill" , that is such a copout exscuse to not want to fight, Ronja was your pack member and adoptive cousin - FAMILY NOT A STRANGER. PLUS LET HER LEAVE WITH SOME STRANGER IN A DANGEROUSE ENVIROMENT. Like this is not very leader like nor family wise

Guys, how brain dead can you be. Like this seriously, emotionally hurts me. Yet people love them and wanna be like them.

he has not changed. Since he hasn’t gone to save Ronja still from the Raid and it seems Asmundr will be doing the same damn thing. Cause Kique doesn't have them progressing and movign around, they just sit their and be stagnant, its already been 4 days and they have not Gotten to meteor yet???!!! Rhovanion and Feaf gotten to Asmundr in not time flat.

Or the whole situation of meteor females being oppressed and used as fodder while males forced to be soldiers and brutes in a generational curse. How Rogio, Ranach and other males would not get a benevolent greeting compare to like Kargo and Ferah who actually did something to help them;

Yet everyone is chill with the males including Rogio who they welcomed, like they were the bullies, while Kargo and Ferah were seen as an annoyance to bother with, Heck Ferah and Ronja Apologized to each other like, there is no conflict whatsoever. Everything patched up nd onto the next plot... if there is any to solidly follow.

If you have people like this, ditch them ASAP When Keirr and Aira had a goal to find their family and Aira finally will be within Keirrs pack??? Forgotten, it was Keirr excuse for them to have ‘ stability ‘ but Keirr was welcomed in and became a Guard while Aira was struggling to fit in and become a Herbalist?? healer?? then was brushed off by Keirr so many times, Lied to her, tok full credit of figuring out the Ghouls when it was Aira and practically ditched her when he finally saw his family again. Leaving her in a tribe she didn't want to be in, in the firt place and tolerated it because OF KEIRR. She literally has anxiety and abandonment issues plus without Kique's logic a disability and Keirr Just straight up ditches her, which is the WORSE thing to do; And I hav not even talked about what he does with Ruan, he doesn't even join Fruajar to guard his family from a raid because Ruan is there. Like imagine you wanting to go with someone on a trip to see the Mountains to meet some lost relatives who're in need of your help, let's say Bob for simplicity, you both have everything set up in a hotel and landed, but then all of a sudden Bob meet some people in Meadows street ( for simplicity ) along with you, Bob is appraised, people warmed up to them and Bob forgot the whole reason for the trip and made an excuse as you tried to remind them for the reason for said trip not even wanting to focus on making friends since its temporary and you have a goal - a subjective mission. Then Bob starts being distant, not even telling you where he went or if he left and gets made at you and tells you to " figure it out" basically, and need to get along with other people - again FORGETTING THE REASON BOTH OF YOU WENT TO THE TRIP. FINALLY he leaves to meet the relatives and do the mission ... but left you in meadow's street, with a bunch of strangers in unknow lands. No warning, no nothing, you're not even around familiar territory to get to the hotel. Basically left you to wander alone to fend for yourself, worse if you have a disability or mental issues...or both.

Make it make sense pls

The one where Kargo had a bear spirit?? He just magically lost it after dying with an excuse that Kique forgot in his own story that contradicts it like...three times. Kique likes to forget his own lore...because he doesn't have a script and loooooooooves to do discovery writing.

The guy is just a Gary stu

Ranach being a menace and was supposed to be this Complex and intimidating antagonist??? Forgotten, since nobody sent a bounty hunter towards him presently, the only time bounty hunters actually done their jobs was on Jahla involving Flame tribe and the matriarch, Kargo for killing two Merchants, despite Kargo and other males may not be aware of it since Meteor was an oppressive and dangerous tribe that kidnaps dogs, it'll be stupid for a merchant to make sales with them nonetheless be near them. Kargo also shows signs of PTSD or a traumatic event that has him react to survival mode; and now South-spear tribe involving them being a nuisance, why it took them that long to attack south spear??? beats me cause Kique doesn't think far from his nose, but not Ranach specifically. Thye probably don't even know he exist despite they should if the Capitol kept tabs on them and RONJA actually tells them about him during Tinget, Instead he’s given a group to form a revolutionary revolt against the capitol ( that is also - probably his poorly patched redemption arch ) after sleeping with every male as what the Author drew Ranach in a ' gay bar' .

Foreshadow anyone??

The moment he slept with Iberion is the moment he actually did something, he really thinks Sex would make them follow him to the ends of the earth. He didn't even worked for his effort as a Guard, he was taken away to do other tasks, such as a ' hunter' and a ' wrangler' now he has full reign to do whatever he wants when the whole tribe shouldn't even give him nothing, especially the viscountess. Ranach would have to be on edge 24/7 but know it's a desert bar, how south spear has no kids is beyond me.

Kique really trying very hard to make it justified, when Rome is more of a 'yes man', AKA: a dangerous Yandere, simp.

Raven crest telling capitol or at least report that one of their members basically stole their Nova and damaged property?? Forgotten. They now fear him despite Ravencrest has everything to report the red wolf and Rome. - She snuck in their camp, a wolf that has blood on their fangs, sneaking around camp. If you was innocent you wouldn't be doing that at all, you would make your presence known and stated of seeing a beacon light around the territory. - Their healer been rebelling against them for a stranger. In the Jarls eye, he is a problem and a threat, has every right to throw Rome in with Jahla until further notice, but this is Kique logic and he wants Rome to be the savior and love interest. Can't have a weak male in the comic - no suree - Rome purposely started chaos and took the Nova AND THE WOLF Rome is literally a fugitive. Raven crest can tell neighboring tribes of now someone teaming up with the wolf and did property damage. How is Jahla supposed to show Akiulfrs are not dangerous when you have members like Rome joining. they're asking for a raid. ---- In conclusion, It’s all sunshine and rainbows. “ I understands “ and Stu characters being right 24/7 Who're we supposed to root for if the Main, deutor and Antagonists are all bad. The only one is Fremja, Avanti and Aira for they don't have the screen time to become assholes like everyone else.

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galateagalvanized · 2 years

Text

Deluge

For the @codywankissbingo prompts ”kiss in the rain” and ”forehead kiss” 💕

So little changes on Kamino. The sky is a dark gray-purple bruise that never heals; the churn of the ocean never settles; and the rain, the constant, unending rain, drifts from dull mist to light patter and back again.

Obi-Wan stares at the gentle downpour and wishes for a real storm.

He doesn’t know where he’s going. He has a general sense of direction and distance, and he follows that sense into the curtain of water waiting for him beyond the safety of the dockyard’s overhand. His boots slip on smooth metal, skidding and squealing before the rubber catches on infinitesimal imperfections. Rain begins to dampen his hood, pressing gravity deeper into the fibers until it hangs heavy from the bowed curve of his head.

Below his feet, the chrome surface blends into the choppy white-streaked gray below and the placid, black-streaked gray above. Everything is the same, and everything is the same as it always was.

Small wonder that the Kaminoans took up cloning, really.

A tug on his heart draws him upwards, and he turns his head like a flower to the sun, searching for a break in the clouds. The clouds are unending, but there is brightness. White glimmers in the distance like an errant limb of lightning struck the top of the observation dome and froze, ungrounded, in transit.

Obi-Wan’s boots slip twice more on the curving arc of the dome’s durasteel before he reaches the shallowest curve of the dome. There are no stairs. Maintenance droids come this way, but they have rocket thrusters and Obi-Wan does not. He climbs nonlinearly, sliding down half the distance he ascends with each step.

He cannot imagine making the journey in full armor instead of worn linen and supple leather.

Cody is sitting a careful ten feet from the apex of the large dome, far enough from the lightning rod to be within spitting distance of safety. His knees are drawn up to his chest, and his arms are wrapped around the bend of his legs like a child sitting up in bed, scared of the dark and holding the harsh hammer of their heart in their ribcage with exterior pressure alone.

Obi-Wan does not think it is the dark Cody is afraid of.

Cody does not look up when Obi-Wan sits next to him. His helmet is off, overturned, collecting falling water like the bucket Cody always says it is.

“My dear,” Obi-Wan says, carefully not pressing into Cody, carefully not pressing him at all. “My dear, I’m sorry, but it’s getting late.”

He left Cody alone for as long as he could, but three hours have passed with no change in the light pulsing weakly through the clouds and no sunburst of orange walking back through the doors.

Cody doesn’t move; his body sits like a gargoyle on this building designed by someone who would disdain the very idea of one, someone who did not believe in beauty beyond utility. Rain runs in rivulets down scuffed white plastoid, painting contours on graves and bracers and down the sharp L-shape of his jaw. His head is bent such that rainwater slips down the soft slide of his neck and through the pucker in the collar of his blacks where the elastic bunches.

He is beautiful; he is beautiful far beyond utility.

Obi-Wan doesn’t say anything else. Cody can and has survived worse than a night alone in the rain, but Obi-Wan would save him from further pain if he can.

Around them, the metal sings to an endless, steady beat. The sun may be setting; it may have already set. The dull, permeating light does not give anything away. Worry unfurls itself like a spider droid in Obi-Wan’s chest: growing, and growing claws.

“Sorry,” Cody chokes out at last, and Obi-Wan controls his relief to a single breath through his nose. “Sorry, I just. I. Obi-Wan.”

It’s enough. Obi-Wan reaches an arm around Cody’s shoulders and pulls him into the warm shelter of his body. The shelter is not physical; Obi-Wan’s robe only soak up the water sitting on the surface of Cody’s armor, and their heights are too similar for Obi-Wan to keep the rain off Cody’s face.

Cody lets go of his legs and turns into Obi-Wan’s side anyways, letting himself seek comfort instead of solitude. The cuisses on his thighs are newly mismatched. An orange stripe curls over his left leg and is unmirrored on the right.

His old cuisse has been stripped and polished and boxed. The new one is half of a matched set; its twin is somewhere beneath them, keeping Boil from bruises as he stumbles, reeking of bad moonshine, to an empty, borrowed bunk. Beneath that bunk, twenty-six sets of empty armor and one set without its cuisses lie in neat boxes, waiting for new owners.

Kamino’s rains aren’t hard enough to wipe away Umbara’s scars.

Obi-Wan rocks Cody as best he can without unbalancing them.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he is, he’s so sorry, he’s so sorry for all of it—for Krell, for not being there, for failing to see the danger, for failing to end the war, for failing to stop the war from ever happening, for how Cody can’t crumble like this in front of his men, for how there is no moonshine to drown this sorrow in, not for the marshal commander of the Third Systems Army.

He presses a kiss to the bit of Cody’s temple he can reach, just above the curl of his scar. “Oh, Cody, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Cody twists his face into the soft weave of Obi-Wan’s tunic, where the hood of his cloak has kept it mostly dry, and Obi-Wan feels a hot wetness start to soak into the fabric anyways.

“It just,” Cody says, voice hoarse with all the jagged words he’s kept hidden in his throat. “It just won’t stop raining.”

Obi-Wan pulls him closer despite the cold of Cody’s armor, despite the wind picking up.

“I’ll stay with you until it does,” he promises, and they sit there, curled together, as the rain falls softly on.

#codywan #codywankissbingo2022 #bingo baby!!!!#am writing #my fics #sorry not too sorry for the whump hahaha #obi wan kenobi #commander cody

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sortofanobsession · 2 years

Text

To Cry for the Moon Part 14 (Moon Knight x Female Eternal!Reader)

Author's Note: This one got long too. I just kept adding to it, even while doing the final edits. There will be another part, maybe two, after this one, so @jupitersmoon167 and I are not quite done yet. The first 13 parts had 27725 words. That doesn't include this one, or the next one(s). So hopefully you have all enjoyed those 30k+ words.

Please do not take, copy, or translate without talking to me first. Reblogs, likes, and comments are encouraged. But anything else please message me first.

Y/N = Your Name. Y/N/N = Your Nickname. Reader pronouns She/Her. Story is 3rd person POV.

Italic text is the reflected alter talking. Bold Italic text is sign language for Makkari.

Tag Requests are Open just message me.

Tagged: @rosaren2498, @yuugenmomo, @faefanatic, @urlocallsimp @assassinsasha23, @queenariesofnarnia, @rmoonstoner, @crypticruler, @animelover18, @philiasoul, @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol, @22carolina08, @preciousbabypeter, @sleepyamaya, @so-done-with-bullshit

Primary Pairing: Steven Grant x Eternal!Reader, Marc Spector x Eternal!Reader, Khonshu x Ma'at!Reader

Content Warning: Mental Illness, mentions of death (but this one is mostly fluff)

Word Count: 3K+

WIP Series Masterlist

Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 15

Part 14: Recovery

"Hello, Layla," Y/N says as she and Marc approach the Domo.

"Hello, Y/N," Layla greets her back.

"Taweret never told you they revived me, did she?" Y/N asks.

"She has been busy, I assumed that had to do with whatever Osiris and the others had going on, and which I guess was you. It's crazy how easily this could have been solved but Taweret had her tasks and Khonshu is too stubborn to admit he can ask the others. You were apparently the only one he liked it seems."

"Hathor is okay with him," Y/N states. "Especially after what Harrow and Ammit did to her avatar. Taweret is too sweet to abandon her tasks if she thinks they are important. Though she will defy them for the same reason. She can be a paradox. My family fill you in?"

"Yes, but I am starting to wish I would have called upon her. Probably would have saved us all a lot of hurt." Layla says.

“Well, you were a bit busy with this situation,” Y/N gestures to Steven.

“Hey!” Steven says, offended.

Layla laughs. "Glad you're back, these two were insufferable for the last few days. And don't take this the wrong way, but it's your problem now." Steven just shakes his head but Y/N laughs.

"I have to return the feather, you guys up for a trip to the temple?" Y/N asks them.

"Make a good shortcut home, so I'm in," Layla says.

"Y/N/N, we already told you, we go where you go, but I'll let Marc take this one, later gators," Steven says and gives Y/N a quick kiss and lets Marc front. Layla just laughs. The trio let the others know and Y/N calls on her powers to open the path to the temple.

Temple of the Gods

They step into the temple and see both Isis and Osiris with their avatars.

"You did so well, little feather," Isis says through her avatar as she goes and embraces Y/N.

"Never doubted you could do it," Osiris adds from where he stands.

"Come with me, feather," Isis says. Y/N looks back at Marc. "Don't worry. We will not be long." The pair of goddesses leave.

Osiris begins to speak again, drawing Marc and Layla's attention. "And somehow you, Spector," he looks at Marc, "You just keep proving we underestimated you the first time around. You may be broken, but you have done more for the world than most of us or our avatars have in a long time. We cannot thank you or Ms. El-Faouly enough. You both have now saved humanity twice."

"You brought Y/N/N back," Marc answers honestly. "And last time, you brought us back. It was the least we could do."

The three of them talk until Isis and Y/N return. Y/N's armor is gone and replaced with a flowing white gown with gold trim and jewelry, befitting of an Egyptian Goddess.

"We reward those who serve to protect and better humanity," Isis says. "An outfit of a true goddess, so much more fitting than that armor."

"And a savior of all humanity," Osiris adds.

Layla laughs at the lovestruck awe in Marc's face.

"I'm out of here," Layla grins. "I'll stop by your flat and feed the cat. I have a feeling you two might be busy for a while."

"Thank you, Layla," Y/N says as she nears them. Marc is holding his hand out to help her as she steps down. "You helped us even when you didn't need to. It means a lot to us, all of us. The gods, the Eternals, us," she gestures between herself and Marc. "I don't know how to repay such a kindness."

"You died to save the world," Layla points out. "Seems pretty fair that I kept him alive. Just don't let him undo that hard work."

"I will do my best," Y/N assures her.

"Call me when things settle down. We still have to get that artifact back," Layla tells Marc.

"Oh, Makkari said she would get it,” Y/N tells her. “She is really good at that."

"Alright then, guess my job is done. See you guys later." Layla waves before disappearing down one of the tunnels.

A gust of wind signals Khonshu's arrival. Isis grins, holding her hand out to Osiris. The pair of gods and their avatars joined hands and leave the three to their reunion.

"Hello, Khonshu," Y/N says. She sees how the god remains as still as a statue, as if frozen as Tiamut is now.

"Go on, bird, we know what you want to do," Marc sighs, bracing himself for the weirdness that was Khonshu taking over his body. The god didn't have to be told twice.

"Ma'at," Khonshu says, reaching out through Marc and brushing a strand of hair back that had fallen in her face when he made his wind-filled entrance. "I told the worm you were too strong a warrior to truly be gone."

"It was painful, and you did lose me for a bit, but you must have faith in the other gods, Khonshu. I know you have had your quarrels with them, but they have seen that though somewhat misguided at times, you do truly care for humanity. More importantly, a little birdy told me you took over being my justice," she grins at him. "Hard to take over something you have always been, Khonshu. You never stopped, even when I had to. Even when the others banished you for it. You were the one that, despite the sometimes less than ideal methods, always did what you could to protect the innocent and hold the guilty accountable. Though I do hear that you have leaned more into half-truths and manipulation, and my dear, dear friend, you know we cannot have that. My justice is honest and true. Now that I have returned, I expect you to be on your best behavior. Don't worry, I shall remain beside you. I will make sure you stay on this path. We shall do what we should have done before and traverse it together. The other Eternals understand. The gods of other cultures may no longer dwell on Earth, but we do. We have fought too hard for humanity to give it up now. Join me?" She holds her hand out to him but stops as he mirrors the gesture. "But, only if you four can learn to play nice. No worm, no pigeon, no lying. This won't work unless everyone agrees. Marc and Steven are onboard. Jake may take time, and yes, I am aware of your little pet project. He has every right to share in what they all have as much as Steven and Marc do. It will be something we work on. All of us, together. Can you agree to that, my friend, for me?" She offers her hand again. "I will be with you, like I am with them, for as long as time and the cosmic powers allow."

Khonshu seems to weigh his options, but it was more for dramatic effect than actual contemplation. To have the cooperation of his avatar and Ma'at back at his side, he would agree to almost anything. But he had a reputation as a god of substance that he has maintained despite banishment and imprisonment. So he sighs.

"I suppose those are acceptable terms," he says and accepts her offered hand.

"Good, because I have so many things to tell you," she smiled. "We have centuries to catch up on. And your new look is quite fearsome. I'm sure you enjoy using it to your advantage, don't you," she comments on his time-battered frame. "But I won't lie, it's oddly fitting. Gaunt, yes, but reminds me of the full moon on a clear night, powerful and looming. Watching all that passes below them."

The old god takes pride in her praise, and comments, "And you are just as fierce and majestic as always.”

"I'm just lucky both the deviant and Ikaris aimed at my torso. Hurts like hell but makes the damage easier to cover."

"I can only hope their deaths were painful," Khonshu says, his tone full of anger.

She squeezed their joined hands. "Well, Marc will have to tell you about Kro’s death. As for Ikaris, it was probably searingly painful, even if it was short and self-inflicted. The sun does not have compassion, especially that close. An arrogant coward throwing himself into the sun, seems poetic and stupid. So it's very Ikaris."

"I could think of better punishments, but at least no one has to endure his insufferable judging nature,” Khonshu admits. “Yours is the only judgment that matters."

"Always did have a soft spot for me, haven't you?" She surprises him by giving him a kiss on the cheek. "As have I. Now shall we give poor Marc a break and take our leave?"

Despite his hesitation, he agrees. After all, they have centuries to discuss, and he doesn't need his avatar for that. They also have an infinite amount of time. He and his avatar would keep her from falling to anyone or anything again. They wouldn't make the same mistake again.

The Domo

The pair, now accompanied by Khonshu, return to the rest of the Eternals. The Domo was in need of repair. Despite Phastos insisting he could handle it, they all did what they could to speed up the process. It wasn't until the Domo was back in the air and both Steven and Marc were sure all her injuries had been tended to that they got a moment to relax. Khonshu vanishes after Y/N assures him that after they rest up, she will tell him everything he wants to know and more.

"I want to meet him," Y/N says once they are secured in her quarters on the Domo. And before he could respond, she adds, "Jake, I want to meet Jake Lockely."

Marc hesitates but nods. A few moments later, an unfamiliar heart beats within a body she knew so well.

"Hello, Jake," she says. He nods but says nothing.

"You have hidden from me, but you don't need to." She tries to assure him.

"You judge criminals," He says.

"And you see yourself as one?" She asks. He remains silent. "Smart enough to not lie. Good call, but the thing is, humanity is not as black and white as Khonshu may like to think it is. Good people do bad things to protect the people they care for. Bad people can still do good. I have seen humanity grow and change for over 7,000 years. Your heart, and mind, as Druig may think, may be dark, but that is only because that is all you allow yourself to be. You stay in the shadows and only come out to do the things too hard for Marc and Steven. You protect the others. You protect the system. But that is not how things have to be. Jake Lockley, you can have as much a say as Marc and Steven do. It is as much your body as theirs. You have kept them safe for so long. Why not step out into the light and embrace the potential you have? You can free yourself from darkness, all you have to do is open yourself up to them, to us." She places a hand over his heart, ignoring how he tenses at the touch. "I can feel that you carry the burden of the system. Your heart is not evil. You are not evil. You are the guardian of the good in the system. Why not enjoy the benefits for once?" She stands there, hand against his beating heart, refusing to back down. She loved them, all of them, every broken piece. Jake was part of that. She’d prove to him that there were people he could trust. That he could trust himself. All he had to do was start by trusting her. “Khonshu already trusts you. I trust you. All I am asking is that you think about it. You don’t have to do more than you already do if that is what you want.” She moves her free hand to his wrist and places his hand over her own heart. “But I am here for you, all of you. Know you are with me, with us, mind, body, and heart. All you have to do is try.”

"I will try, mi corazón," he says.

"Good," she smiles at him.

They settle in at Ajak's farmhouse in the immediate aftermath of the failed emergence. All of them were trying to figure out what they were supposed to do now. Y/N was thrilled to meet Phastos' family. Ben was kind and caring. Jack was innocent and adorable. She wanted to just hug him and protect him from the world. A thought that Ben found funny and Phastos could relate to. Phastos found it less amusing when Y/N showed Jack the stolen artifact Makkari had retrieved for Layla and Marc.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Y/N smiles as she gently sets the decent-sized stone tablet on the kitchen table for Jack to see. She watches as he looks at the carefully carved stone surface. The hieroglyphs cut deep enough into the surface to have not been erased by time. “You can touch it if you are careful, it’s heavy and very old.”

"What does it say?" He asks as he runs his fingers along the aged stone.

"It talks of a beautiful city, a golden city, that has been buried for thousands of years until not so long ago. 3,000 years under the sands. This comes from a time when a king turned his back on all gods but one. Aten, the sun god. Though the only Sun god I know is Ra and he gave his powers to many. Amun, becoming Amun-Ra. Horus becomes Ra-Horakhty or ‘Ra-Horus in the horizon’. Even his daughters, Sekhmet, or one of my personal favorites, Hathor. She’s lovely and she would adore you. Though I’m sure most of the goddesses would. Don’t you think Steven? Especially Taweret." She turns back to Jack when Steven agrees. “I’ll have to send you one of those adorable Taweret plushes they have at the gift shop. Her hippo form just looks so adorable as a plush. My statues are all pointy and with metallic wings.”

“He’s a little old for stuffed animals,” Phastos says.

“Well, Steven will find him something more fitting, then. He’s good at that. Taweret is a protector of women and children. It seems appropriate. And unless you want my statue in his room you should just accept the lovely, bejeweled hippo goddess. And yes, I plan to spoil your son. I have a new lease on life, and I’m going to enjoy it. That and I can fly and even fast travel like in video games thanks to the temple.” Steven genuinely laughs at the idea of treating the temple like a shortcut to Chicago. He tries to ignore the anxious thought that his father wouldn’t be that far away.

“Don’t focus on that,” Marc’s reflection in the nearby kitchen window states. “We’ll deal with that when Y/N makes us because we both know she will. We’ll just put that off for as long as possible.”

So Steven shakes it off and focuses on the here and now.

“Fair enough,” Phastos admits.

"What else does it say?" Jack asks, he carefully taps at the tablet, earning a laugh from where Steven sat across the table.

"It describes the movement of a pharaoh, the father of King Tut. Have you heard of King Tut?"

"He was the boy king that like everyone knows of, right?" Jack asks.

"Yes," she nods. "The Pharaoh Tutankhamun, usually called King Tut, had an unusual father. It describes when his father, Amenhotep IV, changed his name to Akhenaten to honor the only god he found important, Aten. And he left the traditional center of power in Thebes to create a new throne in the golden city, he called Akhetaten, pretty much named after himself."

"He named it after himself?" Jack asks, shocked.

"Swapped an ‘n’ for a ‘t’ and called it good. Real rude if you ask me. I worked hard with the Ennead, just to have this guy decide the rest of us weren't important. Jokes on him though, we are still here, and the pharaohs are long gone. I don’t see him at the Temple of the Gods. Guess he backed the wrong god, didn't he?"

“Can I see the temple?” Jack asks.

"And history lesson is over," Phastos says.

“But Daaaaad, it’s educational,” Jack says as Phastos attempts to usher Jack out of the room.

"Do you even know how hot Egypt is? That temple was made thousands of years ago. You barely leave the air-conditioned house on hot summer days.” When Jack is gone Phastos turns to the Egyptian goddess. “Really, Y/N? That was the moral of that story?"

"I could have told him about the criminal-filled frozen sands of the duat. Steven knows all about those, don't you, love?" She turns to Steven.

"No, I will not tell a child about fighting zombie-type undead monsters that trap the souls of bad men in the underworld. That's too scary."

"Their scales didn’t balance. Phastos and I made those scales. But I’m sure Jack would love it. What kid his age doesn’t like zombies?" Y/N teases.

"The kind that knows the world almost ended. The kind that knows half the universe disappeared for 5 years. So, nope, not happening. How is it that the guy with a bad case of DID, no offense, Steven,” he says to Steven. Steven just shrugs, wondering where Phastos was going with his comment. Phastos continues, “Is still the best babysitting candidate here?"

"It's because he is the nurturing alter. The other two are an ex-mercenary that became Khonshu's avatar after being left for dead in the desert and a limo driver from New York that has a tendency for murder. I can see why you like the gift shop employee best."

"Y/N/N,” Phastos starts, “I love you, but you are almost as bad as Druig."

"Well, at least you still love me," she grins.

"It is a burden, but I do," Phastos jokes. "But they," he gestures to Steven. "They can keep you."

“Fine with me,” Marc’s reflection says.

"Marc agrees, that works for us," Steven says.

Phastos shakes his head but smiles. He’s happy Y/N has someone who adores her as much as Steven and Marc seem to.

#To Cry for the Moon fic #moon knight eternals crossover fic #eternals!reader #female!reader #marc spector x eternals!reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x female!reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x female!reader #steven grant x reader #eternals x reader #egyptian gods x eternals!reader #khonshu x reader #tw: mental illness #tw: mentions of death

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climbthemountain2020 · 2 months

Text

Hope of Spring - Chapter 23

Also on Ao3! Chapter 22 here :)

BRING ME BACK, he roared, swinging his fists blindly, the sobs tearing from his throat and the panic overtaking his senses as he fought against Rhys and Azriel.

He fell to his knees. “Rhys, please.” He sobbed. “He’s going to kill her!” Rhys only dropped his head.

“She made me promise, Tamlin. We cannot go back.” Rhys had placed a shield around Tamlin, holding it tightly in place to prevent him winnowing as he slammed his fists against it.

“I’ll never forgive you for this! How could you? How will you live with yourself when she’s dead?” Tamlin screamed, his fists bloodying against the walls of the shield.

“It was the only way, Tamlin. She knew it. You know it.” He joined him within the shield to put his hand on Tamlin’s shoulder as he heaved.

“I didn’t say goodbye. She didn’t–” He could barely get the words out. He tugged on the bond, finding it still there, flaring with power.

Suddenly, Tamlin shot up from the ground, knocking the shield and nearly Rhys. “We have to go back.” He shouted, turning, wide-eyed.

“Tamlin, I already told you we–”

“No! The carranam. You read about the carranam!” Rhys straightened. “She has his power, but he can’t die. They’re evenly matched while she has it, so she needs more, right?”

Rhys was following, Tamlin could see the realization dawn on his face. “I can do this for her. She and I are mates. Our magic is compatible. You have to bring me back.”

Rhys hesitated. One second. Two.

“Tamlin, she will never forgive me if I bring you back.”

“And I will never forgive you if you don’t.” Tamlin held firm. “Please, Rhys. What if it were Feyre?”

Rhys closed his eyes, sighing. He knew Tamlin was right. He would rip the entire continent in half if it meant Feyre’s life or death. He looked across the killing fields. They weren’t losing, but they weren’t winning either. He could see Helion in his beast form in the distance, ripping into the flanks of the Hybern castoffs. To the other side of the lake, Eris’ beast form of a large black dragon shimmered in the heat of the flames Tilly threw off across the shores. They were still swamped on all sides.

If Tamlin were right, this could be the thing to turn the tide in their favor.

He hated to break a promise to her. He’d sworn he would uphold his end. But he could face her ire if it meant she was still here to give it to him.

“Okay.” Tamlin’s red-rimmed eyes shot up, filled with heartbreaking hope. “Okay, let’s go. Do you have a knife left to make the cut?” Tamlin nodded, and Rhys reached out a hand.

“I will never forget this, Rhys. Never.” The world warped around them, bringing them slamming back to the ground where they’d left only moments before.

Penny, still drenched in now-drying blood, was fighting with everything she had. She was throwing great swaths of dark power over her shoulders at the Death God, who was holding each blow with shields of the same dark magic. She looked exhausted–sweat running lines through the blood on her face, her armor half-ripped off her shoulder, and a deep gouge through her thigh. In that moment, she caught sight of them, her face a look of absolute horror as they saw her mouth no.

All it took was the single moment of distraction for Koeschi to find an in. His power lashed at her, striking her straight in the chest and flipping her backwards to the ground, chest smoking with the hit. Fuck. Tamlin was running to her, and without thinking twice, Rhys launched in to draw his blade against Koeschi.

Tamlin raced to turn Penny over, holding her in his arms. She looked up at him, crushing fear and relief both present in her eyes.

“You weren’t supposed to be here.” She whispered, her voice cracking.

“I couldn’t leave. I can’t believe you thought I would leave.” He said. Penny laughed, tears squeezing out of her closed eyes.

“I can’t beat him. I can’t break the box.” She started to cry in earnest. “I thought I could win. I needed there to be a way for us to win.”

“There might still be.” She lifted her eyes to his. “Do you remember when Rhys found the passage about the carranam?” As with everything else, Penny knew what Tamlin intended immediately.

“Are you sure?” She asked him, tentatively.

“Yes, I am sure. Take my power and destroy the box. I know you can do it.” He pulled out the dagger from his side sheath and slid it across his palm, holding it out to her. She grabbed it and slid it through hers, immediately pressing their hands together. The power hit her with a force so unlike Koeschi’s that its softness startled her. It was a deep breath of rushing wind, a fast river of warm water, a deluge of rain over hot skin. Her power recognized this one, and it held it close. This power felt limitless, felt ancient, felt eternal.

She winnowed with Tamlin, grabbed at Koeschi while he fought mercilessly against Rhys, let his horrid power fill her again, and brought her focus to the box. They joined hands once more, and he stood behind her, holding her to him. She held tightly to the threads of Koeschi’s magic, amplified by the addition of Tamlin’s, and filtered every remaining part of herself into the box. She screamed as the strength of it barrelled through her, worried that she would give it everything and still, it would not be enough.

But then, a crack formed. Then another. Lit from within, the box began to shatter, like glass breaking. From behind her, she could hear Tamlin as he spoke into her ear.

“You’re almost there. I love you. I know you can do it. I’m so glad I met you, Penny. I’m so glad you fell into my manor. I love you.”

With a final dig into her power that left her staggering and breathless, she shoved the last bit of her magic into the box and collapsed as it exploded into a million fractals of light. That light, as though forced into a vacuum, disappeared as dark waves of black rushed from the box in violent waves.

RHYS NOW. She mentally pushed towards him, the words too difficult anywhere outside of her mind, and hoped to gods he’d heard.

The sword Rhys held arced through the air, cutting straight through Koeschi’s neck. Before his head even had a chance to hit the ground, the Death God’s body began to disintegrate into ash, floating on a cold breeze as if it had never existed at all. His head followed suit until he was nothing more than dust on the wind, leaving behind only a shattered box, now a broken, empty shell.

The rattle of power rippled over the battlefield, knocking some of the humans to the ground. In the distance, the castle on the lake began to collapse on itself. The humans began to surrender, and what remained of Hybern’s armies attempted to flee.

Rhys fell to his knees, exhaustion settling over him, horror overcoming his features as he looked towards Penny. She could barely make it off the ground. Since she’d fallen into Spring, she’d never felt so weak. Even after her last burnout, she could still feel the bond gently thrumming through her. Now, she felt so empty it was like her bones had hollowed out. She reached to Tamlin’s hand, made to pull them both up, then faltered.

She realized, then, why she felt so empty.

Tamlin’s eyes stared, unseeing, towards the gray skies.

Choking, she pulled at the bond to find nothing at all, not even something to grasp.

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t get the air in. She fell next to him, fingers shaking and running over his jaw, his face covered in dirt and blood. She blinked. Blinked again. Like her body and her mind couldn’t reconcile and connect what she was seeing and feeling and understanding.

Then she began screaming.

It was the worst sound Rhys had ever heard. He was distantly aware of people beginning to gather, drawn by the sound of Penny wailing.

No no no no.

Rhys knew she’d never forgive him. She might even kill him herself for allowing this. Even trying to block her out, her mental shields were so shattered in her grief that she was practically shrieking her anguish into his mind. He felt another kind of pain, this one through his own bond, and he knew Feyre had arrived. Of all people, his mate knew this pain, could recognize that horrid, feral screaming that accompanied only the emptiness that could come with the cleaving of a bond.

Perhaps they could resurrect him the way they had when he’d died reforging the cauldron. Perhaps they could find some way to bridge that immortal leap where his soul had already departed and yank him back. Feyre had had the same thought, already gathering the High Lords. He saw them gathering, and realized in that moment that Varian was stepping up, glowing faintly. Tarquin didn’t make it, Feyre whispered sadly into his mind. Cauldron save us all.

Then, in a moment of truly horrendous timing, Penny herself began to glow. The magic was choosing her as she gripped and shook the corpse of her mate. She had been chosen as the High Lady of Spring, proven worthy on the battlefield, no doubt. She panted, hyperventilating as the power coursed up her body.

“No.” She moaned. “No! I don’t want it,” she wailed, shaking her hands as though to dispel the magic elsewhere as she threw her head down on Tamlin’s motionless chest. “I don’t want it if you’re not here.” Her sobs broke something deep and fundamental within Rhys. He could hear Feyre gathering the High Lords still, pulling them all forward, explaining the intent. It didn’t take much. They wouldn’t even need to throw the spark this time, simply touching Penny’s shoulders should do. Rhys understood that if it didn’t work, if his soul was already too far gone, the damage would be irreparable. She would not be coming back from this. She had intended to die today, and if Tamlin were gone, well, all the more motivation for her.

Six High Lords gathered around a new High Lady, the picture of grief. I don’t know if this is going to work, Rhys. She can’t feel the bond anymore. Rhys sighed, his eyes burning, grasping for Feyre’s hand. “We will do everything we can.” They stepped forward, all ready to lend their power to Penny to save him. Tamlin had given all of himself to save them; he and Penny both had. The ultimate sacrifice.

The power flowed through Penny as the bridge of power built, her sobs still wracking her body as she pushed the light into his chest.

“Please, Tam. Please.” She gasped, gripping the tunic beneath his armor like it was her only remaining tether to this planet. “Please, I can’t do this without you,” she whispered. “Don’t leave me here.”

The light guttered out, and so did their hope.

The silence stretched across the battlefield, as Penny stared at some undefined spot in the distance, eyes glazed, breath shallow, swaying.

“Rhys.” Feyre said beside him. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

It hadn’t worked.

“Rhys.” Feyre nudged again, and he saw what she did. Penny was shifting, unconsciously, flowing through various attributes. The wind began to kick up around her as her breaths became deep, heaving pants. “Rhys, she isn’t in control of her powers. She's going to hurt herself.” Penny’s armor cracked as she shifted into a great beast entirely, the new High Lady of Spring, but the roar from her chest was broken, anguished. She bellowed her grief, then collapsed, a low whine coming from her.

Rhys looked up to find Nesta sobbing into Cassian’s bandaged chest. Emerie, Mor, and Gwyn, though injured, were crying too. Rhys could feel the devastation ripping through his mate.

“You need to knock her out, Rhys. Now.” It was Azriel, limping to his side. “She’s going to hurt herself. We need to get her back to Spring. She can mourn him after she’s rested.” Rhys couldn’t swallow the knot in his throat. They had just begun to repair the rift, and now Tamlin was gone. Gone. How would he ever be able to look Penny in the eye again? He’d promised her. She started writhing on the ground, still rapidly blinking back and forth between forms.

“Rhys.” Azriel growled.

With a twist of his hand, the beast fell still, slowly morphing back into just Penny, draped over Tamlin one last time.

“She’s never going to forgive me.” Rhys realized he’d been crying.

“We can cast a preservation spell. We can give her time to properly say goodbye, but we need to get her back to Spring. We need to let her rest.”

Azriel went to grab Penny, having to slowly pry her fingers from where they were twisted in Tamlin’s shirt–one last desperate grab to bring him back to her. “Have someone bring him back to Spring and I will take care of it now. Do the debrief, and then bring everyone back to Spring that needs to be there. Gwyn and I will be waiting there with Penny.” He nodded to Gwyn and she joined him, her hand on his arm.

With a last nod to Rhys, they winnowed Penny back home.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #elucien #tamlin #tamlin x oc #feysand #gwynriel #tamlin oc #tamdemption #tamlins hea #hope of spring

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ahc-au · 2 months

Note

I have a couple of questions about this au : 1. Since Cody has been got that living poison or that good for nothing uncle of his out of his life so he doesnt have to face the "dangers" of this world he has created or keeping him inside the penthouse , how would this affect Cody's perspective ?

2. Did the EPF completely removed the dark turtles' failsafe devices (hypnotic induced precautions) they have implanted within them (possibly near the cerebrum or cerebellum) , or did they also found the other things like explosives within them since they are living weapons after all 3. After the trial , where would Darius be sentenced to , somewhere like maximum prison for terrorists or luxury prison for privileged people . Or his business partners that President Bishop had mentioned at the prologue during the interrogation ?

OOOH FUN QUESTIONS

1. This one's pretty complex! Cody is a victim of abuse, but it was the kind of abuse that fostered co-dependency, and that's really hard to deprogram from. Cody may now understand that his Uncle was a bad person who never actually had his best interests in mind, but the behaviors he was taught are still going to take time to unravel. He compulsively feels the need to placate the people around him, because Dunn raised him to be obedient and expected him to essentially put his entire life on hold just for his uncle's convenience. He was raised to believe that what he could do (or build) for others determined his worth, given that was how Dunn determined his worth. He also becomes deeply invested in his attachments, having been allowed so few close relationships outside of home and work. Feeling lonely is scary, so he feels like he has to please the people he's close to especially so they won't want to leave. This leads to him denying his own needs in favor of those around him, even outright refusing to acknowledge when he's not doing well until it gets overwhelming. Thankfully, the Splintersons have left him with some very good influence, and I think as he goes he'll find the things they taught him to be of invaluable help. I don't want to say too much on that, though, since it's the subject of a few chapters off in the future heheh.

2. The EPF has long-since been dissolved, it doesn't exist anymore! And according to records, the leader died mysteriously in such a way that no body could be recovered, and there aren't any records of his name anywhere. Weird! In any case, yes, the authorities are aware of the Dark Turtles' implants. Again, this comes up later on, so I'm not gonna say too much. But! I can also point out that all their weapons and armor were confiscated. I believe it's mentioned once or twice in the first few chapters, but I try to keep it in mind since it means alterations on their usual designs whenever I draw them.

3. There's an episode of Fast Forward that begins with Jammerhead being broken out of prison, and it shows us an island in the middle of the river is where the facility is located (GREAT design choice NNYC city planners. I'm sure the nearby residents love that.) This is where I've been picturing Dunn is being held, he even gets the same prison uniform in the newspaper drawing! From the glimpse we see in the episode, it looks pretty miserable, and I think Bishop is vindictive enough to ensure he doesn't even have a chance of getting moved anywhere nicer. Because of course, in Bishop's utopia future, the prison system is still horrible. The business partners are a plot thread that is going to stay dormant for now, but it's very fortuitous of you to keep them in mind heheh.

Thank you for the questions, I hope this answers to your satisfaction!

--Adelram

#ahc asks #sending his enemies to prison just wouldn't be as fun if Bishop had to make the prisons humane after all #in terms of EPF I suppose the Peacekeepers would be mostly handling that stuff? cuz PGA is Bishop's new body of control but it's not-#-exactly a 1-to-1 replacement. it's genuinely just Space UN #disregard Bishop's private militia. that's totally normal and not something to be concerned about at all #Cody is sooooo interesting cuz like a lot of his unhealthy behaviors lean more towards the self-destructive side #but in such a way that it's hard to notice unless you know him very well #but this also means when too many things go wrong in sequence he's liable to have an anxiety attack and shut down. or even get angry #ahc cody #ahc bishop

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blessed-curse · 2 years

Text

Characters: Romances

Here are the Romances as promised.

Spoilers ahead.

• Name: Claire Griffin

Gender: Female

Age: 36

Pronouns: she/her

Nationality: Irish

Alias: Gluttony

Affiliation: Anti-Villain

Group: The Sins Of Desire

Rank: SSS+

Type: Empowered

Category: Deviant Category

Weapon: Gáe Bulg= Spear.

Ability:

◆Soul Absorption;

You can absorb souls, while removing them directly from the source, straight into your body and use it in various ways, gaining some form of advantage, either by enhancing yourself, gaining an ability drained from a superhuman, using it as a power source, etc., either temporarily or permanently.

Common advantages include adding the target's skills and abilities to yourself or using the absorbed souls to augment your own powers.

You become stronger, faster, more durable, etc. the more souls you are in possession of. The more souls you absorb the more likely you are to unlock abilities related to your category and enhancing your existing powers. You are also able to draw sustenance from the souls or even stop your aging. For this ability to take effect your target must look into your eyes, or be kissed on the lips. Once you own more than a thousand souls you will be able to create soul chains that will seek and absorb souls for you within a certain radius.

Occupation: None...

Physical Appearance: Height (179 cm), curvy body build, fair porcelain skin toned(use to be light tan), loose wavy mid waist sultry dark lavender hair.(Hair use to be lush red.) Has bright deep sky blue eyes.

Personality: Cunning, Playful, Realistic, Action-oriented, Enthusiastic

Costume: Claire wears usually spandex sexy type suits. Never wearing the same siut twice.

Marital Status: Single

Mini-Sum: "I'm not a monster, I'm a mahther. A mahther dat desires to see her cheldren grow up, to see dem have cheldren of their own. For dem to look back at me with a smile that says 'thank ye'. But I can't ever see dat if I stop now."

(Pronounced Eng: "I'm not a monster, I'm a mother. A mother that desires to see her children grow up, to see them have children of their own. For them to look back at me with a smile that says 'thank you'. But I can't ever see that if I stop now.")

Claire Griffin, was an ordinary single mother of two, before she became the notorious villain she is today. She use to be a kind, caring and loving person... but after a fight broke out between two Descendants that resulted in the destruction of the school her children use to attend. They died, as part of the casualties causing a torment, a rift to form in her heart. A sort of hate and pain. And the pretentious bastard tried to wave it off as an accident. No one sympathised with her plaight. This lead to her wanting all Descendants to die to perish in penance for taking her children. And then one night... she came across a stranger who offered her power in exchange for her humanity ("You shall lose your humanity every time you use this power and will eventually only be left with your desires, nothing more nothing less."). And she accepted without a second thought. And that is how she gained the power of Soul Absorption and became one the many Empowered. She now kills any Descendant she comes across, in hopes that she can gain a power to one day allow her to bring her children back to life. So... will you a broken soul fall for another broken soul? Or will you try to stop this monster that only lives on desire and death?

• Name: Ryan Richardson

Gender: Male

Age: 25

Pronouns: he/him

Nationality: African American

Alias: Golden Knight

Affiliation: Hero

Group: Principality of Nine

Rank: SSS

Type: Descendant

Category: Deviant Category, Attribute Category

Weapon: Durendal= Broadsword

Ability:

◆Armor Augmentation;

You become stronger, faster, more durable, etc. when near or using your armor, also unlocking abilities related to your powers and enhancing your existing powers. You can also draw sustenance from your armor and allowing you to stop your aging.

◆Judgment Manipulation;

You can make judgements on anyone/anything and decide what will happen to the target. You can make any kind of judgement, like judging whether or not a love is allowed, or judging and deciding whether a person lives or dies and what kind of afterlife they are allowed into, or judging whether or not they can keep or use any of their powers, etc.

You can judge, and decide or deny anything. Once a target has been judged, they are automatically affected by your power. But for this power to take effect you must say the target’s full name and surname.

Occupation: Barista & Chauffeur

Physical Appearance: Height (189 cm), toned body build, light chestnut skin tone, very dark bright magenta straight ear length hair. Has intense scarlet eyes.

Personality: Charming, Friendly, Easygoing, Flexible, Optimistic

Costume: Ryan wears a brilliant golden bulky full body fantasy medieval armor with large knight pauldrons and wings shaped like Griffin heads. He also has a long thin red cape, that can detach and wrap criminals up in.

Marital Status: Single

Mini-Sum: "Look life is like one big game your either the loser or the winner. I know the world is unfair and harsh. So!" Claps his hand together in loud BANG! "That's where I come in. I'll be the cheat system... I'll break the game. So at the end of the day, there will be no losers, only winners."

Ryan Richardson, use to be someone who use to be at the bottom of the food chain. He was born in the streets of the Bronx, abandoned, left to die. But by chance he was taken in by an elderly couple who taught him the values of what it means to be a decent human being. He didn't grow up in luxury, but he had a loving family and a decent upbringing. And on his 17th birthday he awakened his powers, making him a Descendant. And from then on he wanted to be a Superhero, someone who is not defined by their origins, but by their choices. And when he turned 19 years old he started the superhero team The Principality Of Nine he created the best team he could. A team of heroes of justice. Now he works two jobs in his civilian time as a both a barista and a chauffeur. And when someone is in need he is the Golden Knight a warrior and hero of justice. So will you open your heart to this charming, optimistic fella? Or will you clash heads on what you believe justice to be, that is nothing more than ones own self-righteous ideals being projected onto another?

• Name: Sophie Tyler

Gender: Female

Age: 26

Pronouns: she/her

Nationality: American

Alias: Miracle

Affiliation: Hero

Group: Principality of Nine

Rank: SS

Type: Empowered

Category: Deviant Category

Weapon:

Ability:

◆Flawless Healing;

You can undo all damage done onto a target (living or object), be it mental, conceptual, emotional, spiritual, mystical, and physical damage, with no flaws or mistakes in the process. You can even restore and repair abilities, as well as resurrecting the recently deceased as long as it is within a few hours prior to their death. But the greater the exchange for the use of this ability the more likely it will drain your soul and life force as payment. Minor use of this ability will not drain you of any sort of payment. Minor use would include eg. Critically and fatally damaged cells can regenerate, preventing scars. Lost limbs and internal organs are completely healed. Damaged nerves can be healed to a certain extent. Major use (things that will cost you life force and your soul energy) of the ability would be youth inducement by reversing the effects of aging. Bringing the dead back to life.(For every person resurrected it will cost you 1-2 years of your lifespan/life force.) Healing anything emotional, spiritual, mystical or conceptual will drain your soul as payment.

Occupation: Café Owner

Physical Appearance: Height (160 cm), petite hourglass body build, light pale skin tone, coarse wavy blonde shoulder length hair with some orange dyed tips. Has iridescent golden eyes.

Personality: Sensitive, Nurturing, Gentle, Outgoing, Reliable

Costume: Sophie wears a spandex suit that has no skin exposure. It is completely black with gold and with a bright neon blue circuit pattern on the chest. And wears an elegant high tech domino mask that has glass eye covering and run a HUD. And has golden high tech gauntlets that provide a physical strength boost. She also wears knee-high boots that a also completely black except for a neon phthalo blue trim, they also have snap buckles on the side(easy to take off).

Marital Status: In a Relationship...???

Mini-Sum: "I know life isn't all sunshine and rainbows! I-I should know that first hand... B-but if I can bring even the slightest ray of hope to the weak and vulnerable when they need it most—I will."

Sophie Tyler, was born into a domestically violent family, as such she didn't have the best of upbringings. Her step-father was an abusive drunk while her mother was a sickly woman. But one day her life completely changed. The day her father hit her mother just a little to hard. Leading to a hospital ride that led to her father being arrested, and her mother hospitalised. And it was during that moment when her mother laid in that bed dying. That Sophie, wished beyond anything in that moment to be able to save her mother. And as if answering her call a being cloaked in darkness and light appeared. They offered her the power to restore things that could once be considered broken. She accepted without any hesitation if it meant she could fix her mother. (The being smiled and said, "You're a very brave girl. You're brave enough to make such a choice, brave enough to make a deal with me. But remember this, there is no such thing as a free meal in this world. So every time you call upon this power it will take either your lifespan or a bit of your soul as payment."). And with that she saved her mother, it was a miracle. She later became very famous for saving a mother and her unborn child from death. And it was also due to her that society found out that their was a different kind of superhuman, one granted their powers with a simple deal. She now lives in Los Angeles, and owns her own Café in South Spring Street. She loves her job, but she loves saving lives more. As long she can save at least one person knowing she tried her best that's enough for her. So will you let this angel of kindness melt your heart? Or are you going to break hers?

• Name: Evelyn Favre

Gender: Female

Age: 29

Pronouns: she/her

Nationality: French/Swedish

Alias: Trinity (The Mercenary Queen)

Affiliation: Neutral

Group: The Scarlet Fangs

Rank: S

Type: Descendant

Category: Deviant Category

Weapon: A pistol & a variety a other weapons.

Ability:

◆Temporal Time Freeze;

You can stop time while being unaffected yourself, or you can also allow others to be unaffected by your temporal time zone. If you move before this ability ceases, it would appear to everyone that you have teleported once time returns to its usual flow. During the temporal distortion you become displaced from the regular flow of time. This means you can enter any time-stream or timeline including ones that are closed off or even ones that have been erased from history as you are no longer limited to just one timeline/stream. You can also manipulate your own personal time allowing you to freeze it outside of the normal time stream allowing to stop your aging, need for sustenance etc. without having to harm your time stream.

Occupation: Mercenary

Physical Appearance: Height (177 cm), curvy athletic body build, apricot skin tone, crimson French bob haircut with a braid. Has intense red eyes.

Personality: Dependable, Realistic, Analytical, Serious, Efficient

Costume: Evelyn wears a full military high-grade tactical suit. With military issue black pants. And black leather military boots. She also wears a half face air purifying gas mask respirator sometimes.

Marital Status: Single

Mini-Sum: "Listen here [Mr./Mrs.] Morals. I'm no Hero, nor am I a villain, I'm simply a business woman. If you have a job for me, I'll do it. No, matter the job I'll get it done... as long as you can pay that is. So don't go putting one of your labels on me."

Evelyn Favre, born into a family of professional assassins and hitmen. She raised to be the best of the best by her father and mother. The first time she ever killed someone she was 8 years old. And the first and last time she would receive an official mission from her family, was when she was 14. After completing her mission she returned home to her family. Only for them to be all massacred by a man who awakened as a Descendant, upon witnessing the scene before her, she also awakened her powers. Which allowed her to kill her family's killer. And after that day she continued to hone her skills, and later in her early 20's she started her own Elite Mercenary band of Descendants specialising in espionage, security, intelligence gathering and assassination. Now she is one of the most feared and respected Mercenary Captain's alive. So will soften this fierce beauty's heart of stone? Or will you clash in scene of blood and fire, where it's do or die?

• Name: Nathan West

Gender: Male

Age: 22

Pronouns: he/him

Nationality: Australian

Alias: Morningstar

Affiliation: Vigilante

Group: The Twilight Twins

Rank: SSS+

Type: Descendant

Category: Elemental Category

Weapon: A shortsword made of Aeolia metal.

Ability:

◆Living Power Plant;

You can store an ethereal energy in your body and power things with it. This can be done by generating energy from within yourself. As your power is working to generate energy 24/7 it will require an outlet. As your body can only store so much energy, before it hits critical mass.

Occupation: None (College)

Physical Appearance: Height (188 cm), lean athletic body build, soft rose beige skin tone, golden blonde wavy messy hair. Has heterochromia the left eye is amber and the right eye is an elegant green.

Personality: Impatient, Confident, Passionate, Direct, Kind

Costume: Nathan wears a mecha type suit, red, yellow, black and silver sleek assault suit of polymer bodysuit armor made from special custom carbon metals. There is also a dark matter core centered in the chest. He also has a nano formed visor helmet the helmet has encrypted communications gear and a HUD, along with thermal sensors and motion detectors. The whole suit is fully sealed and gas tight, making them wearable in a vacuum for up to thirty minutes when equipped with an oxygen tank. And his suits boots have a "Gravity Loop" built in. This negates atmospheric gravity allowing flight, and are used for steering during space flights.

Marital Status: Single

Mini-Sum: "All my skills and abilities are mine and mine alone. So why do the higher ups ruin the world and try to make me a college student responsible? Here's why, it's because it's the hero's duty to sacrifice themselves for the mistakes of others, to clean up someone else's mess. But not me! I ain't going to sacrifice myself for fame, fortune or power. If I have to be a Superhero... That's only— and only! Because there are people in this world I wish to protect. Obviously if someone is in danger I would save them, but I ain't Mr. Goody Two Shoes."

Nathan West, was born a superhuman as his Descendant bloodline awakened the day of his birth. Nathan grew up in a privileged house hold, with a loving and caring family. But while growing up he had a very difficult time interacting with society due to his ability always overloading. But this did not stop him from trying and doing his best. As he got older he and his brother decided to do some good for society. And became vigilantes. Upon his debut with his twin they encountered a member of The Sins Of Desire. After defeating a villain from such a famous villain team. Nathan and his brother were heralded in as world heroes. Now Nathan has started college recently after finally finding a way to get his power under control. But he still does good for his society as whole, by being the vigilante hero Morningstar by night. So will this arrogant dashing vigilante worm his way into your life? Or will you shatter his pride, his kindness, his very being, into oblivion?

• Name: Ethan West

Gender: Male

Age: 22

Pronouns: he/him

Nationality: Australian

Alias: Nightstar

Affiliation: Vigilante

Group: The Twilight Twins

Rank: SSS+

Type: Descendant

Category: Elemental Category, Deviant Category

Weapon: Escrima sticks; that combine into an electric staff.

Ability:

◆Ultimate Capacitor;

Your body is capable of containing an infinite amount of energy, you can absorb as much as you want. This can allow you the energy required to use other superhuman abilities, survive long amounts of time without food, or output energy for long periods of time.

◆Eyes of Thoth;

You have the eyes of Thoth this allows you to use magic of godlike proportion, as well as perceive another's soul. You also have the ability to view things in dimensional forms, enabling you to decode structures and puzzles with ease(this works for magic formulas as well). You can view situations in many different ways and use this information in order to gain an advantage. You can inflict a variety of harmful and debilitating effects in other beings by locking eyes with them, with the effects ranging from inflicting pain to knocking people out to even killing people. You are able to destroy or at the very least damage objects or organisms by looking at them directly. You are also able to use your eyes to cast various spells, the eyes grant you the ability to use magic. Because eye magic is a technique of magic rather than a type of magic, you can use a vast variety of different types of magic categories.

Types of effects your eyes are capable of;

• Astral Vision

• Chrono Vision

• Clear Sight

• Divine Sight

• Electromagnetic Vision

• Evil Eye

• Eye Color Manipulation

• Heat Vision

• Magic

• Ocular Techniques

• Penance Stare

• Penetration Vision

• Scanner Vision

• Soul Reading

• Visual Powers

Occupation: None

Physical Appearance: Height (188 cm), lean athletic body build, soft rose beige skin tone, golden blonde wavy messy hair. Has vibrant sapphire eyes that burn with magic.

Personality: Kind, Selfless, Flexible, Supportive, Intuitive

Costume: Ethan wears a black and yellow mech suit with reinforced black carbon-fiber plating around the legs, chest and abdominal area. He also has a magic circuit in the centre of his chest both as his symbol and an extra layer of protection. He also has hyperjump wings which produce so much power that it can seem as if he's teleporting. His suit is also fully sealed and gas tight, making it also wearable in a vacuum.

Marital Status: Single

Mini-Sum: "When I was Young I thought the world was a big Happy place. Turns out that life's a bit more complicated than a fairytale, reality is... messy. Since it turns out people have limitations, people make mistakes. And life isn't all black and white, sometimes it's grey. And as such many of us are provided a choice in life, you can either be the Knight in shining armour or you can be the Dark Sith Lord, sometimes you can even be the Neutral party. But... but I prefer it to be the Knight in shining armour, because I believe- as long as there is good in this world, light will always prevail over the shadows that follow."

Ethan West, has lived the majority of his life in confinement and pain. Upon his twins birth the entire hospital where they were born was destroyed and everyone present nearly killed. Fortunately Ethan was also awakened at birth, and due to this none of the occupants came to harm. But unfortunately he didn't protect himself in time as such his physical body and many organs where damaged. Fortunately his father a renowned Biologist and Robotics Engineer built a laboratory and a special vat pod. Which would help Ethan's left over body grow to maturity, till his father could create him the perfect body. And 20 years later his father had built the perfect body. Tho Ethan never had any interaction with anyone besides his twin and family. He had the Internet connected to his neuro-pathways which allowed him to interact with society through the Internet. And upon receiving his new body, he wanted to be like the heroes of The Principality Of Nine, as such he and his brother formed the vigilante team The Twilight Twins. And now tho Ethan remains mostly at the laboratory, he goes out on vigilante mission and watch with his twin at night, protecting those in need. So will you let this kind stranger knock down those walls you've built around your heart for so long? Or will you twist his sympathy and kindness into his own undoing?

• Name: Kina Leilani

Gender: Female

Age: 27

Pronouns: she/her

Nationality: Kanaka Maoli (Native Hawaiian)

Alias: Flora

Affiliation: Hero

Group: Principality of Nine

Rank: S

Type: Descendant

Category: Deviant Category, Elemental Category, Beastman Category

Weapon: Katana made from unique alloys.

Ability:

◆Phytokinesis;

You can create, shape, move, control, interact and manipulate plants, mainly multicellular organisms, predominantly photosynthetic eukaryotes of the kingdom Plantae, including wood, vines, plants, moss, and parts of the plants, such as leaves, seeds, roots, fruits and flowers. You can cause plants to grow, move/attack or even rise from the soil and "walk", mutate plants by rearranging DNA structure and revive withered or dead plants.

You can use your power for defense and support, cause flowers and other plants to bloom instantaneously, manipulate tree branches to use them as whip-like weapons, control spores and pollen, bring plants back to life and make them sprout seeds/fruits/berries, use plant chemicals to heal people/objects, and/or manipulate their properties for a wide range of effects. You have the ability to deal a series of offensive techniques on a target. Using the plants as weapons enables you to grasp and strike continuously with vines and roots, project thorns at a distance, and quickly regenerate the withering weapons at your will. You can grow vines to entangle enemies climb around a target's neck, causing choking, or strike with plants. A more subtle technique is to release damaging toxins and pheromones, affecting targets in which conditions should be treated quickly with ailments.

◆Botanical Communication;

You can communicate with all forms of plant-life, including flowers, trees, fruits, vegetables, pollen, etc. either telepathically, by speaking verbally, or by touching it physically. Plants can tell you of what happened or what is happening, like helping you track someone from a long distance away, etc.

Occupation: Biologist

Physical Appearance: Height (163 cm), fit bottom hourglass body build, medium golden skin tone, lime green waist long loose hair. Has vibrant emerald eyes.

Personality: Bashful, Curious, Versatile, Helpful, Honest

Costume: Kina wears a purple and black and green lightweight exoskeleton exo suit with a skin tight temperature regulated suit made of a stab-proof kevlar weave and a non-Newtonian impact gel layer. She also has layered impact armor covering many vital areas. And has a high tech interface goggles. Her boots also sport a spring based gravity manipulator, allowing her to jump around with ease allowing for many impossible acrobatic movements.

Marital Status: Engaged...

Mini-Sum: "No one is innocent. And no one deserves shelter if they are deserving of punishment. Through suffering if human beings can't reflect. They can't grow. And humans are naturally stunted creatures, they are naturally selfish, greedy, lustful, and especially destructive. But, if you take a close enough look, there is always bound to be some good. And if you nurture that good, it can spread and when it does it will eventually have that desired ripple effect. So yes, I do believe no is innocent... but that doesn't mean they aren't redeemable."

Kina Leilani, was born into a family of nature conservationists. She was taught from a young age to respect and give back to nature, to always be thankful for everything she received from it. On Kina's 15th birthday she went on a trip with her family. But on their way to the vacation home a hurricane suddenly appeared. As it was fast approaching she began to panic as she felt that moment was to be her last, the last time she'd see her family. And in that moment she awakened her Descendant bloodline granting her, her abilities. As such she and her family survived that natural disaster. But after that incident she had mutated into a beastman. And this devastated her greatly. For many years she could not accept who and what she became. Till one day when she was 19 years old, her father passed away from a brain tumour. And on his death bed he told he something that changed her point of view in life and on herself. Every since then she began to study to become a Biologist and someone who could use her abilities to help and heal the world. So will you allow this honest, yet surprisingly bashful beauty take root in your heart? Or will you eviscerate this blooming tree of innocence?

• Name: Liam Bekker

Gender: Male

Age: 32

Pronouns: he/him

Nationality: Dutch

Alias: Hex (Nacht Demon {Night Demon})

Affiliation: Hero

Group: Principality of Nine

Rank: SSS

Type: Descendant

Category: Beastman Category, Deviant Category

Weapon: Dáinsleif= Longsword

Ability:

◆Causality Manipulation;

You can manipulate causality, the relationship between causes and effects, allowing you to decide what happens and what doesn't, when and how. There is no need for a "why" however, as the why of something is determined by causality itself, which is at your command, making it one of the few powers that reasonably don't need a reason. The causal alterations can be either specific or systemic. Specific alterations are momentary ones, naturally ceasing with your realization eg. Absolute Wish. Systemic Alterations permanently changes the causal structure of reality, enforcing new chains of fate upon it until you decide otherwise.

All forms of existence and phenomena rely on causality. Because of this, the power to manipulate it naturally overrides any other power put against yours, as they all rely on causality to work.

But unfortunately you are only able to wield the basic level of this power. So you posses the basic and usual control of the cause and effect. You have limited range on the fields of causality, though you can manipulate the causal rules of physics, science and up to warping reality with your power. You can very well control events & destiny while also redefining the cause and effect rules of reality but only on a basic level.

Occupation: Model, Main Shareholder of Serenity Enterprise.

Physical Appearance: Height (185 cm), athletic body build, rosy beige skin tone, sky blue long fringe hairstyled hair. Has bright blue iridescent eyes.

Personality: Sincere, Reserved, Loyal, Caring, Imaginative

Costume: Liam wears a black 9ft tall sleek dragon armor bodysuit highlighted with neon orange. The suit is made from high-tension nano fibers, adaptive armor plating, and titanium carbon nano-tubing thread weave. Has mantis blades on the arm gaurds. His suits reinforced nano spine which is attached all along the spine of the suit to the base of his helmet, can extend and free itself from the suit while remaining attached to the helmet. It acts as both a tail would for extra balancing and as a whip sword. His suits pauldrons have a horn-like feature attached forming a half circle. His suit also has a gravity field, which is produced by a special built-in gravity orbs placed meticulously at every joint. And the eyeslits are made from an orange holographic visor shield. They provide a HUD with a vast array of eyesight visions and and a link to a vast network of information.

Marital Status: It's Complicated.

Mini-Sum: Stands up with a solemn and sad expression on his face and says, "Ever since the collapse of religion do you know what humanity lost? I'll tell you. They lost belief. Do you you know why belief is such a powerful concept? It's a powerful concept because it gives one hope, hope to know they ain't alone, hope to believe in something, to believe in someone. To believe that someone is out there looking out for them. And that's why I do this. I'm a Superhero that stands firm in the face of evil. And I do that to allow that one spark of belief to blossom. And that my friend creates faith. But please don't forget, faith makes things possible, not easier."

Liam Bekker, son of the former Tech Billionaire Erwin Bekker. Liam grew up with the best of the best that money could buy. The best tutors, the best food, the best of everything. But it was never enough, for all he ever wanted was a loving parent, not someone who spent every waking hour working. Till one day, his father came home wounded and dying. On that day, Liam learnt that his father wasn't paying attention to him due to work, but because his father was out saving the world. Day in and day out. Liam was asked on his father's death bed to take up his mantle. But he refused. After his father's death, Liam went on an emotional roller coaster ride. He went from drinking his days away to spending money on monstrous lavish parties. Till one day he was coming home from a pub party held for his 28th birthday. He witnessed an event that would sober up his lost soul and forge a vigilante of protection. After that event came to pass, he awakened as a Descendant like his father. And became the Vigilante, Night Demon. Until a few months later where he changed his alias and became an official superhero. Joining a new team The Principality Of Nine. Now, he works part-time as a model and as a member of The Principality Of Nine. So will this handsome devil seduce you and your heart? Or will you stand on opposing sides of life?

• Name: Redacted

Gender: [Opposite players.]

Age: Redacted

Pronouns: Redacted

Nationality: Redacted

Alias: The Contractor

Affiliation: Villain???

Group: Redacted

Rank: SSS+

Type: ???

Category: Deviant Category

Weapon: ???

Ability:

◆Deal With The Devil;

The effects on other people are limited to the form of a contract and any impact on others made using this power must be agreed upon and followed to the letter.

You can make an absolute contract between yourself and another. If one breaks one of the terms they will be cursed with bad luck so bad it will kill them. But the contract can only be dispelled by you, or sometimes if both parties are willing to agree to cancel it. You have the ability to warp what the receiving party has asked for if they are not careful with what they ask for. For example if one was to agree to a contract entailing extreme strength or power you could transform the client into an uncontrollable beast or a destructive force of nature. Since no specific details where specified during the deal. You can initiate the power as a ritual or as simple as signing a piece of paper or simply shaking hands with the client. As for the payment it can be decided by you and the client must pay it within the specified time given, whether that be now or in 10 years time.

Occupation: Redacted

Physical Appearance: Redacted

Personality: Redacted

Costume: Redacted

Marital Status: Single

Mini-Sum: "I've seen kingdoms rise, I have seen Empires fall. I have lived far beyond the years of a mortal. I have seen things that will turn the bravest of men into cowering sniveling pups. I've seen and done things that no man or woman should ever have to witness or do. So don't talk to me about the moralities of humanity."

Redacted.

#blessed curse #romances?#character art #character info #superhuman #powers!

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