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signedeclipse · 1 year

Note

Hii!! Can you do like a hantengu clones (NOT separate) x fem reader nsfw one shot? Reader is a complete virgin and she’s in a poly relationship with the clones ♡︎♡︎

All For You | Part 2 [Hantengu X Reader]

Reader is Human Female | NSFW | Part 1 HERE Final HERE

Recomended Song - Killshot by Magdelena Bay

A whirlwind of emotions crept through you, acting on both fight and flight, leaving you paralyzed, basically limp.

The oldest of the four had you lifted into his arms. They were so hard you'd almost believe he was made of lead, had it not been for the comfortable warmth of the flesh.

He was holding your torso up with one arm, the other under your knees and holding you as close as he possibly could, as if afraid you'd be taken by the others that were tripping over one another to catch a glimpse at you.

"Are...are you going to kill me?" You had been gazing up at his face, though his kanji eyes only glanced down every once in a while, only meeting your gaze as he knelt down, laying you in the spread of your futon that you'd not yet put away from previous use. Despite the pounding of your heart, no matter how much adrenaline you held, you lay paralyzed under the strength of Sekido's gaze.

"Hmm... should we?" Two claws hands had grabbed your ankles, pushing them up so your knees buckled and pushed into the air, allowing for the green-eyes demon to be visible between your legs.

You shook your head, even if you could hear the teasing tone dripping from his tone.

When you thought back to the shivering mess you had saved a week ago, it made no sense that within him these four prospered. Clearly, it was him, if he were younger and more courageous, but there were four of him.

The thumbs of the hands firmly squeezing your ankles rubbed slow circles, and eventually teased their way up and down your calves, curiously eating up the warmth of your skin.

"You've all scared our poor girl so badly, when you should be thanking her for saving us..." the whispering tone came from above you, the quietest of the bunch having stealthed his way to sit seiza.

His blue eyes were a calm abyss, the kind that pulled you from the feeling of the sassy one tracing his nails into your skin.

"I assure you, there's no thanking needed...!" As embarrassing as it was, your cheeks were beginning to burn with the heat of the demeaning nature of the position they had put you in.

Before you could push yourself up, Urogi had landed his bird's feet onto the arm attempting to move, though his talons sunk only into the floor, avoiding your skin and effectively trapping you.

"Then consider it a token of gratitude! We won't be leaving until we are certain you know how much you mean to us." Crouching so he could be an easier distance from your face, he used a claws finger to press into your bottom lip, puncturing it enough for a bead of blood to form, which he leaned in and licked straight from your mouth, shuddering in pleasure at your delectible taste.

"And now that we know just how sweet you are, it'd be impossible to back away!" The look of shock on your face from Urogi's affection only drew him in more, dusting his feathers along your stomach, separated only by cloth. "You deserve this, for being so good to us."

"Awe, no fair! I wanted to taste her!" Karaku chuckled out, his hands having slowly made their way up to your thighs, pushing into the squishy flesh with ease.

You seemed to understand that behind his words was another yearning, one which was confirmed as he kept attempting to inch closer to your inner thighs.

When you tensed your legs, trying to push him away, Aizetsu's hands pushed into your hair, carefully weaving through as to not force any knots so he could brush through it, massaging into your scalp in a way you'd never had before, melting all your tension away.

As each clone closed in on you, Sekido seemed to merely watch the other three, making sure none went too far with you, though in between each check the red glow of his eyes was back on your face, watching each emotion twist into reality, studying your precious features before his look-alikes ruined it.

Each sensation from each clone became overwhelming, making any changes harder to notice as they each inches closer, pushed deeper, cooed louder- but though the feeling of your top slipping up your stomach was unmistakable, you found yourself unable to focus on it, or care when the same happened to your bottoms, eventually lost to the dark corners of the room.

Despite the room being well lit, it was hard to look anywhere but their eyes, which had a distinct glow from the rest of the darkened world, you noticed Karakus face was so close to your thighs that the green luminescence reflected onto your skin, dipping lower, until it was below your line of sight.

Aizetsu seemed to realise you were at a disadvantage laying so flat, and shuffled his hips closer so your head was propped up on his lap.

It allowed you to see the mess of your shirt tangled in one of Urogi's claws, among other things.

Karaku was carelessly dragging his tongue up the fabric of your underwear, the saliva dripping down only further wetting the thin layer between his mouth and your most precious gift, which was enough to send electricity through your spine.

No later where you arch your back into the touch of Urogi's claws that dragged up your sternum, slicing straight through the attaching fabric of your bra. He happily dragged his tongue flat along one, swiping at the nipple before gently blowing cool air onto it, interested in how you shivered and squirmed at his attempts of arousing you.

"I- I-"

"Shhh, there's no reason to speak, just let us take care of you now." Aizetsu's voice was akin to a lullaby, erasing the words from your tongue.

Karaku chuckled into your skin, amused at the exchange, before copying his feathered clone and tearing his claws through the last of your coverings, hovering above your pussy with a desire he held more than that for blood and bone.

He'd been trying to pursue this urge for so long, and now, with his own body, you were laid out in front of him like a five star buffet.

The grip on your thighs tightened, holding despite any attempt you made to either pull them away or push them together. He was unmovable unless he wanted to be, and right now his desire outweighed yours.

Impatient, as always, he pushed his tongue up between your folds, eagerly lapping at your heat like nothing but a hungry mutt, again, and again, and again, careless of the way your back arched, or how your breath hitched.

In fact, Sekido could practically smell the euphoria coming off of you once Karaku began, enticed by the way your pretty moans twirled in the air when he'd pause to suck at your clit, god, the roughness of his hand was palming at his crotch through his clothes, getting off just by watching the other clones toy with you.

Your sounds were delicious, but Aizetsu couldn't help but worry someone might pass by and hear your struggles to catch your lost breath.

To ease his own anxiety, the sorrowed demon allowed one hand to caress your cheek, pushing his thumb up against your lips when you sealed your mouth at the touch.

Sensing Aizetsu's struggle, Urogi grinned against the flesh of the other nipple he had begun to attack, leaning in and gently nibbling with his teeth.

One gasp was all it took, and thanks to Urogi, Aizetsu could firmly press his thumb into your tongue, which instinctively had your mouth close around his finger.

It was embarrassing, but he seemed to find it terribly cute, cooing down at you.

"You love it so much, don't you? I knew we could help you, just let us finish up."

Rather than waiting for a reply, Aizetsu helped you nod by using his thumb to push down, and the hand in your hair to tug your head back up.

Grunting, Sekido ignored Aizetsu and Urogi's childish play to glare down at the way Karaku feasted upon your squirming hips, enticed by the lapping sounds created by his saliva mixed with your dripping desperation, distinctive for its whitish colour.

It seems he had turned his attention at the right time, because Karaku seemed to be getting antsy with you, pulling your hips closer to his face to the point all Sekido saw was the demon's hair curling over and sticking to your thighs, along with his distinctive horns.

Of course he was correct, because as Karaku forced his tongue in and out of your drenched pussy, pulling you closer and closer to your high, he pulled away, licking up the very string that attached you to enjoy the remainder of your sweetness.

"I think our doll is perfectly ready~" Despite Karaku's tug at you, Anyone could tell he was just aching to feel the same ecstasy he had gifted you, and claim more of that glorious body to himself.

Aizetsu glanced down, wanting to make sure you were okay with going forward, and was easily persuaded by the hazy look in your eyes, followed by a muffled whine.

Slowly, he shuffled back, leaving you flat on your back once more, though the movement of his hand carefully tilted your head as far back as it could go, looking straight at his crotch as he fumbled his only free hand to unto his pants, pushing them down lazily.

Surprisingly, he let go and pulled his thumb from your mouth, letting you pant once, twice, before being silenced once more by placing the head of his cock against your lips.

Who were you to deny him? Of course, you let your jaw come loose, allowing the blue eyed boy to slowly push his length into your mouth, stopping about halfway when you seemed to struggle.

"Hnn, that's a good girl, please, I know you can do more for me..." As always, his soothing voice was more than welcomed to your ears.

It was with a surprising ease he was able to push the remainder in, watching the bulge from in your throat. He pulled back, listening to the sweet noise of your throat closing behind him, and pushed all the way back a little faster, infatuated with watching his length stretch through your neck.

Perfectly distracted handling Aizetsu's weak thrusts, Karaku took a moment to admire his work, pushing the his hand up through your folds and teasing the clit between two fingers just to feel the slick that was left behind, and dragging it back down so he could squeeze a finger or two into your used hole, chuckling to himself at the way you sucked his fingers right in.

"How about another, doll?" Reaching a clawed hand into the depth of his sweatpants, Karaku spent a fraction of a moment stroking the leftover juices on his hand all over his cock. He wanted to make sure he'd do what he did best; give and receive pleasure.

Lining up the tip, he only pushed in an inch or two for you to drink up, giving him to lift your hips up and set your ankles on his shoulders, giving him the perfect position to continue pushing, holding one hand down on your abdomen to keep you from moving too much.

Fuck, did that feel good, his length pulled right in by your needy hole. He couldn't deny how much he wanted to take you right then and there, but he knew to be gentle with something so fragile.

Carefully, he worked his way to match Aizetsu's pace, each pumping in at opposite times, so you weren't too overwhelmed.

Sekido had managed to slip a hand under his kimono, sucking in air as he pumped his own cock to the rhythm of the other two. As much as he would have loved to be in any of their places, he was well off just watching you take them so utterly greedily.

There wasn't a single moment that went by without one of them pushing into you, sloppy noises filling the room and mixing everyone's small gasps, grunts and moans together.

Urogi continued to abuse your bouncing tits, happily abusing them as they moved with his look-alikes movements. It was only natural that he had eventually allowed your hand to let go, though he quickly caught it.

"Me too, doll!" Although far less considerate, Urogi was kind enough to guide your hand to his rather smooth cock, which felt far different than the others.

It was smooth, and as you wrapped your hand around the pointed tip to drag down, you felt a considerable bulge near its base, nearly making you choke on Aizetsu as he fastened his pace, which distracted you enough to mindlessly pump the length of Urogi's strange size.

As easy as it was, the feathered one seemed very pleased, letting his head fall back with a delighted groan, keeping his hand wrapped around yours to help guide you up and down, squeezing when he wanted you to tighten your grip.

"Just like that babe, what a natural~" His cocky words were probably lost, but it seemed he still enjoyed teasing you for being such a slut.

Even as you felt yourself getting sloppy, none of them relented, seemingly content with even the bare minimum from you, pushing into your holes like they were godsend, or just watching you as if you were a muse.

It left you on cloud nine, the hypnotic pounding, the sounds they made, the belittling, the compliments, the obsessive eyes pouring onto your frame.

They didn't just love you, no, they were fucking obsessed with you.

After that, time meant nothing, all that mattered was that eventually things hit a peak, and everything snapped at once.

Karaku’s thrusts became inhuman, slapping his hips into your ass continuously, until his hands dug deep enough to bruise, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix before releasing the thick, heavy fluid belonging to something beyond human.

It wasn’t much longer before Aizetsu introduced you to the liquid’s taste, pulling back enough so just his tip was left between your puckered lips, pouring it down your throat without a care, though not removing himself until he was certain you had swallowed it down.

But you managed, and with a satisfying pop from both ends, you were inhaling the freshest air you had ever inhaled, and shuddering out a weak exhale as the cum from your pussy ebbed out along your sheets, likely staining the white colour with something much, much different.

Urogi and Sekido came last, though Urogi made a show of splashing his across your stomach and tits, letting the fluid pour its way through every crevasse, and down every edge.

No one dared move, merely letting each other's breaths mix in the cool air, basking in the feeling of it all. It was so silent, no one noticed you had fallen over the edge of a deep slumber until Aizetsu bent down to ask if you were alright.

“Ah… sleep well then, dolly.”

Author Note - Since this request is very inline with my previous story and I got so many requests for a part two, I decided to use this request for it!

Word Count - 2,542

Art Credit - 葵鬼 (Pixiv)

Tags - @somefancybb @fabimaou @trickvinder @sleepypotoo @hahahaha120 @swagaliciousguichibaka

#hantengu #hantengu x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer oneshots #kny #kny x reader #kny oneshots #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #x reader #reader insert #oneshot

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im-totally-not-an-alien-2 · 2 years

Text

Halloween prompts no. 31 (part 13: Finale)

Ras al Ghul was concerned. The Lazarus pits had been literally boiling and frothing at the edges. In fact the pit seemed to be steadily growing in size.

Ras did some tests and discovered the chemical components of the pits had not changed, but none of the bodies thrown in were revived, instead ever single one was turned into a rage filled zombie that glowed with the pits power. He still wasn't sure what to make of this when he got word that it wasn't just his pit that was reacting this way, but all of them. More pits were even opening up at a rapid pace, but strangely enough it was only happening in North America.

As time went on the pits continued to react more and more strange. Lightning began to dance across the surface and strike anyone or anything that got near. Any inanimate objects struck would begin acting on thier own and attacking anyone who got close. Fascinating.

He was just about to inform Batman of this development because as interesting as this was he did want his pit back. Unfortunately, it was just as he thought this that crap hit the fan.

The pits in America transformed into Portals to an unknown realm and creatures of all sorts began spewing forth followed by an army of skeletons, human, animal, alien, demon, dragons, you name it. It was there. Ras wisely decided to stay out of this one.

-------

The US was quickly overrun by myths and monsters, Green Arrow and his team was getting thier butts kicked by glowing stone gargoyles, the speedsters were dealing with a herd of colorful unicorns with hair made out of lightning, a freaking Kraken had emerged in one of the great lakes and was destroying everything it could. A purple dragon with a neon green underbelly began attacking Gotham and Red Hood asked, "Who the hell pissed off Barney?!"

It was only after they defeated an arrogant black dragon and its necklace was knocked off did they have a way to fight back. Hood hurriedly put on the amulet and turned into a large red dragon. Granted he rampaged a bit before he was attacked by one of the much smaller skeleton dragons and he began fighting them. He and 'Barney' got into what was essentially a dragony fistfight and Jason roared in victory after defeating it.

Tim got thrown into one of the pits and came out with pit madness and attacked anything that moved, roaring and baring his teeth all the while until he calmed down about twenty minutes later.

Similar things began happening all over the US where odd green lightning danced across the ground bringing inanimate objects to life and driving people to either temporary or permanent pit madness when struck.

Meanwhile,

Wonderwoman was being greatly outnumbered by chimeras and armed skeleton warriors while something similar was happening with Superman, save for the fact the skeletons he was dealing with wore armor made out of kryptonite.

After hours of fighting and the skeleton armies purposely burning and tearing down any buildings they saw things suddenly changed. All the creatures collectively froze for approximately two seconds before resuming the battle, this time with the intent to capture the heros in bubble prisons instead of killing them. The first captured was Superboy.

It spiraled from there with Superman and Wonderwoman being taken out and dragged through the portal

Shazam was being herded by spirits who were trying to protect him and were preventing him from fighting.

Tim freaked out upon learning about Superboys capture and went out of his way to go through the portal and save him. And the others of course.

He manages to land of the back of a giant glowing green bird and (with a lot of difficulty) gets it to land at what looks like a prison. He finds and frees Superboy and Martian Manhunter from thier bubbles and cells, but they seem to be the only heros here. The other inmates look like true eldrich horrors and the three of them try not to look directly at them as they escape. They work together to try to find the other imprisoned heros. They instead come across a pitch black castle with a welcoming white glow and sneak inside. MM shape-shifted into one of the skeletons and went unnoticed by the strange people roaming the castle, this, unfortunately did not fool the skeletons that were on guard duty and/or patrolling the castle and they all attacked them, leading them to try to hide in a nearby room that was actually heavily guarded. Locking the door behind them, they were pleased to note the skeletons couldn't seem to get through. They were all breathing heavily when a soft beep from behind them caused them to whirl around.

Instead of a threat, they found a seemingly very much alive boy around eight to ten years of age laying in a plush bed, guarded by a growling green puppy and hooked up to what seemed to be a heart monitor and other medical equipment. The heartbeat was dreadfully slow however. Superboy picked up the black crown that was resting on the bedside table and they all shared a look.

Was this the prince? It didn't look like he was leading the charge seeing as he was clearly in a coma, but whatever was happening the boy was clearly involved somehow.

A knock on the door startled them again, followed by an eerily calm voice, "Intruders of the Realms. You have been granted audience with the sister of the prince and currently reining princess of the Realms. Come quietly and you will not be harmed."

They talked amongst themselves and agreed to talk to the princess in hopes of getting more information. If they're attacked then they would at least have a change to fight or run rather than being stuck in a room with a comatose child. Sure they could use him as a hostage, but just the thought of doing that to a little kid made Tim's stomach sick, so no.

The princess was not at all what they thought she would be. She was a little girl not much older than the boy with bright orange hair and a blue dress with a matching oversized bow on her head. She seemed just as alive as her brother and very, very angry. She claimed she was Jasmine, but to call her Jazz. The American government had committed hundreds of war crimes against the Realms and even more "acts of war". Appearently they attacked the prince directly while he was trying to settle disputes between the living and the dead caused by a portal to the Infinite Realms that the humans had created. (The creation of the portal itself broke several ancient treaties) This wasn't unusual, and Prince Phantom often forgave them, even though they didn't deserve it. Many spirits have grown increasingly angry with the living over the past year or so this has been occurring and swiftly flew into a wild rage when it was discovered thier sweetheart of a prince was captured by the GIW and tortured for months until someone rescued him. When he was returned to the castle he cried himself to sleep and hasn't awoken since.

This was bad. Really bad. It sounded like the US was the aggressor, which explains a lot of things, like why only the US was being attacked,why the president was killed and government places like the pentagon and White house were so thoughly destroyed and its staff picked off.

Jazz explained that they were capturing anyone that was involved in the horrors committed against the Realms and its people and dragging them back to the dungeons to face the same tortures they had or had planned to put Phantom and the others through.

The princess then offered them a way home so long as they told the other heros the truth about what was happening and that this was a war between two government bodies.

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k-slla · 6 months

Text

In The Cold Of Winter

A/N: takes place after 15.20 (for obvious reasons) & I brought back Jess and Miracle 🤍

(Got this finished for @jacklesversebingo faster than expected )

No beta for this one, all mistakes are mine

Square filled: "You can stop hugging me now." / "No, I don't think I can." Will be in bold

Warnings: none I think, some angst, mostly fluff and Dean&Reader flirting with each other

Word count: ~1k

My Masterlist

You and Dean were slowly strolling outside, hand in hand, in silence. Only sounds heard came from the snow crunching beneath your feet and from Miracle, when he saw a bird or a squirrel to bark at. Otherwise it was quiet and serene. Winter was much colder than usual this year, but it was still beautiful outside with the sun shining brightly in the light blue sky.

“I think I could actually get used to this, you know?” Dean broke the silence. “What do you mean?” You looked at him. His eyes looked exceptionally green in sunshine and cheeks were flushed pink from the cold.

“I could get used to this…Peace. I mean, after everything we've been through, it should be us to get out of hunting now. Maybe it's time for us to start thinking of saving ourselves instead of the world.”

He turned his body fully towards yours and took your gloved hands into his. “Dean, don't take this the wrong way now, but what happened to “going down swinging”?” You asked him teasingly.

God knows, how long have you tried to get him to settle down with you. You knew that both of you wanted to have family, but you also knew neither of you could be at peace, if the other one wanted to keep on hunting.

Dean turned his eyes down in defeat and got quiet. “I almost did.” He looked up and you saw his eyes were glistening. “I almost did go down on that hunt in the barn and…and- and I saw you there and Sam- and I can't do this again to either of you.” Your brain had blocked out that night completely. You couldn't go through that again. Ever.

“Then let's do it, Dean! Let's quit hunting and go live in the woods or I don't even care where. As long as I'm with you.” You whispered excitedly. “Let's just go somewhere else, just the three of us.” A smile came onto his lips as he checked out your stomach.

“I’m not pregnant!” You laughed out loud. “I meant you, me and Miracle. But maybe soon, if you'd still want family.” Dean said nothing when he pulled you into a hug. He held you tight for a long time, and you stood there while Miracle ran around you, trying to get you to play with him. Your legs started to get cold from standing in one spot. “Dean, you can stop hugging me now.” He only tightened his grip around you. “No, I don't think I can.” He whispered. You started to wobble under his weight. “Dean!” You shrieked out loud when he fell backwards into the pile of fresh snow, pulling you down with him.

You pushed yourself up and straddled his hips. “Dean Winchester, was this really necessary?” You scolded him. “I had to get you on top of me some way or another.” Dean shrugged. “And I like when you get bossy.” He added with a grin. “Oh, I know you do. But you know you could’ve just asked nicely, right?” You teased him and lowered yourself enough to be face to face with him. “But where's the fun in that?” He pouted his lips.

For a minute or so, both of you stayed quiet, studying each other's faces. You let your eyes glide over his, admiring every freckle and little scar he had on his nose, cheeks. Every scar on his face was a reminder for you of every monster he had survived. Azazel, Lilith, Lucifer, Michael and the countless other demons, ghosts and werewolves. This man has been through so much in his life. To hell and back. Literally. You thought to yourself. Now it’s finally time for Dean to get out of this dead circle of hunting and leave it behind him. No more ghosts or vampires or wraiths. And you will stay by his side, until the end.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked quietly.

“Nothing much. Just that I love you. But you knew that already, didn't you?” He ran his fingers over your cheek, and gently pulled you down into a kiss. The coldness of his lips and warmth of his tongue chasing after yours gave you a tingling sensation in your lower stomach. Butterflies. After so many years, you still get butterflies every single time he kisses you. It was just dizzying how his lips melted into yours so perfectly. “I love you so much, Y/N L/N. There's nothing that I'd want more than to get out of hunting and start a family with you.” He whispered reassuringly. You laid on top of him and rested your head on his shoulder.

“What do you think Sam says about us retiring?” Dean sighed deeply. “I’m sure Sam and Jess would like to move on with their own lives too, you know? If it wasn't for me all those years ago, they would probably be married with kids already.” He chuckled. You remembered the night you and Dean went to Sam's apartment. You were against it at first but you knew he needed to be told about John going missing, so he could decide for himself if he wanted to get back into hunting or not. To your surprise, he was living with Jess and had already told her everything about his past. And after that night the four of you started hunting together. Jess picked everything up fairly quickly and became a very good huntress. A badass even.

“Let's go home.” You said and started to get up from him. Dean pulled you back down and kissed your neck. “Let's just stay for a minute longer.”

“Dean.” You said playfully. “I am cold and I want to go home and take a shower. You are more than welcome to join but if you'd rather stay here then-” Your words were cut off by a quick kiss he placed onto your lips. “Oh, baby, why didn't you lead with that?” Both of you got up and started walking back to the Bunker. You snuggled closer to Dean, occasionally letting go of each other in turns to throw snowballs for Miracle to catch.

It felt surreal to think that you and Dean finally have a chance to retire and have kids and be happy together.

“Well, I'm telling you one thing: our kids won't hear a word about hunting ‘til they've graduated college, then they can decide what they want to do. Agreed?” You snorted loudly at that. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Tags: @jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @alternativeprincess94

#jacklesversebingo23 #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fluff #dean winchester fic #dean x you

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blu3cl0v3rs · 7 months

Text

Badly Summarizing Njnjago

Season 2 Rewrite Edition

TW: SUICIDE ATTEMPT MENTION

the sentences are surrounded by "—"

stay safe :]

"The Ninja" work mininum wage while Meow and Gandalf motorbike off into the sunset. The Devil forces the sneks to work for him, and the snek leaders don't like that, so they try to kidnap Trauma Child. Don't worry, with the magic of ✨️plot convenience✨️, Gandalf and Meow save Trauma Child, and "The Ninja" all get fired. The Devil uses magical lava goop to turn the weapons into a Big Gold Stick-Thing. "The Ninja" meet Brownie, who owns a dojo, and beats Brownie up so they can train there.

The Devil summons pirates, evil Ninja doubles, and a Grundal, and somehow still fails. What a loser. Trauma Child gets aged up with magical tea. The Devil and "The Ninja" time travel and fuck around in the past. The Big Gold Stick-Thing and god's gold weapons from the past are shot into space. For some reason.

Satan's Wife shows up. Instead of actually being a mother for Trauma Child, she's been researching the Green Ninja's destiny. Everyone slow claps for the Best Mother of the Year /s. The Serpentine commit a coup d'etat by literally shoving The Devil out of a helicopter, and Bloo Snek Leader takes over.

Satan's Wife gives a history lesson, and introduced god's greatest mistake: Evil Liquid Cat. Evil Liquid Cat is stranded on the other half of Ninjago that god broke off, which we call the Dim Landmass. Evil Liquid Cat created some indestructible warriors out of stone that we're gonna call the Rockies. Also, you remember the big boi snek that The Devil smacked on the head? Well, the author forgot to mention that it caused big boi snek to fucking explode, and the gooey green remains can animate things. Anyways, the gooey green stuff brings one of the Rockies to life that Satan's Wife found underneath the museum she works at. "The Ninja" trick it into falling into a bottomless pit.

Meanwhile, after the devil got shoved out of a 'copter, he found the Dim Landmass, and Evil Liquid Cat strikes a deal with him. The Devil unlocks a new level of Dim Landmass, now it's not mostly underwater! Satan's Wife hits on Gandalf. The author is disgusted. A bunch of the Rockies are reawakened, and the sneks get locked underground again as the Rockies wreak havoc upon Ninjago City.

—

Gandalf and Satan's Wife literally attempt suicide via jumping out a building window, but "The Ninja" go "nuh uh" and save their asses by catching them on their flying boat the author forgot about last season.

—

The boosters broke, so they sail to the Dim Landmass like how you're supposed to use a ship. Freezy's bird friend gets shot down. Demonic starfish eat some of the boat, and they crash land onto a not-lighthouse prison. SURPRISE! Freezy's dad is somehow alive, fixes their ship, and they fly away to the Dim Landmass.

Meanwhile, Evil Liquid Cat and The Devil scoop up a bunch of evil galaxy mud, and are using it to create a super weapon. "The Ninja" get caught trying to sneak in and escape, then they go there with Satan's Wife to try to get the devil's fancy new hat and escape, but not before Meow gets kidnapped and experimented on.

One dramatic hero speech later, and "The Ninja" try to defeat the devil again.

They fail. The devil gets possessed by Evil Liquid Cat, and Trauma Child gets physical trauma as well as emotional trauma! I would say baby's first traumatic experience, but Satan's Wife abandoning him and his entire time at Darkley's takes that title.

Ninjagoans(?) get turned evil, and the possessed devil and his army of Rockies go to Ninjago. Turns out the possessed devil has worse aim than the Storm Troopers and somehow manages to miss Brownie like 20 times. Then, the possessed devil decides to fuck it and uses Russian bombing tactics of "if you have shit aim, just shoot bigger ones in the general area" and launches evil mist everywhere.

The color coded dumbasses have their hero speech as the author spends way too much time looking at the sand physics, and holy shit god had a mech??? Anyways, "The Ninja" fly back to Ninjago, fight the Rockies, and get evil-possessed??? All except for Trauma Child, who unlocks God's fighting style and light beams the everloving shit out of his possessed satan father, which literally blasts the demonic purple blob AND the devil out!

Now, we're left with the world saved, a DILF, and said DILF's brother's dumbass students.

The End.

Or is it?? You'll see next time when I post Season 3!

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#blu3 badly explains ninjago #ninjago #lego ninjago #lloyd ninjago #kai ninjago #jay ninjago #zane ninjago #cole ninjago #nya ninjago #wu ninjago #garmadon ninjago #misako ninjago #pythor p chumsworth #overlord ninjago

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velvette3 · 3 months

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WARNING: MENTIONS OF ABUSE, SENSITIVE TOPICS, MENTIONS OF DEATH(ETC) (and a very long post)

Front^

Back (with color, and up close)^

More information^

More up close/informational doodles^

WHAT ALL THE TEXT SAYS:

First page:

Raven (Luna) Information Sheet [Helluva Boss + Hazbin Hotel OC/self insert/]

Desc: wavy/long/black hair (reaches to mid calf when all the way down). Normally in a side braid (braid reaches waist). Bangs normally fall loose. Dark green eyes (scar over left eyebrow to chin. Left eye is lighter in some spots than left. Eyes glow a bright neon green when using powers). 6’8”ft/203.2 cm (very short for the average demon). 7ft wing span (213.36 cm). Wings are black and silver feathered. Pale skin (with many scars). Black claws/talons (black fades up arms).

Personality/occupation: Doctor (formerly). Cold and discloses from others. Very underestimated in both AU’s (I can’t make up my mind on which backstory I like better atm). Self-isolates, doesn’t belong in hell. Poor self-esteem & has depression. Thinks she has hurt people by failing/being unable to save everyone. Thinks she is nothing without her powers. The listener friend (if she even has friends).

Backstory: Father (Zane) was a mafia boss in lifetime. Mother (Anne) was shot in the head and killed by “Raven”s (Luna’s) father. Luna and her sister (Lily) were “sold around” to strangers for anything and everything. She had her sister get married off instead of herself in order to protect her. Father was abusive to all 3 siblings (Luna “Raven”, Lily, and Ethan). Luna smuggled her older brother Ethan out of the country so he wouldn’t have to take over the “family business”. Was brutally beaten for it. Was presumed dead, but survived said beating. (Beating was by her father). Loved her last three years (from 18-21) being a doctor. Was murdered @21 by her father. Stabbed in the gut.

Afflictions: during her time as a doctor she either A.) Sold her soul to Valentino to ensure her siblings went to heaven, or B.) failed to summon him and make a deal, then turned around and kidnapped children from abusive or unsafe homes. Either way, each path ended her up in hell.

Sins: A.) sold soul, B.) “kidnapped” children. Was forced to sell drugs for her father when alive. Tried to kill her father in self defense before she was murdered.

Second page:

By head: multiple piercings. Bird feather markings around eyes. Two silver streaks in hair

To the side: height chart, wing span chart. Powers: teleportation, fire, flight, brief mind control, telekinesis. Claws color fade up arms.

Bottom: “Luna changed her name to Raven to match her new demonic form, but mainly to hide from her abusive father once he arrived in hell.”

PAGE ONE: DONE.

I will make a part two for the second page of information (shown above) and link it in a reblog.

#my art #my ocs <3 #helluva boss oc #hazbin hotel oc #my oc art #information sheet #drawings #artists of tumblr #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #pt 1

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undergrounddweller89 · 8 months

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Acylius sat quietly at his desk, the room lit with candles , casting a warm glow in his study, papers neatly stacked on the oak desk, his ebony feathers shimmering, showing tints of blue and green, a quill scratching across parchment.

His heart was heavy he hated today...he resented it.

He on this day would send the servants away, no one was allowed to make an appointment with him unless it was a dire emergency and even then , people learned on this day...his usual soft gentle demeanour was sour and blunt.

Or at the very least there seemed to be something dark and depressive.

The servants made their guess's, their rumors about today, but no one knew...he set down the quill....he couldn't focus on the important paper work Infront of him, the weight in his chest was too much. His body felt heavy, perhaps bed was best , he could sleep and just let this day be over with.

With a gentle breath the candles flickered out.

Today had felt like an eternity, with it's endless silence, Acylius pushed back in his chair and stood, making his way over to the window where moonlight poured in, his four black eyes glinting as if they were filled with stars, his white face glowing , looking up and just admiring all that vast beautiful emptiness within the night sky, he felt so separated from the rest of the world in this place of solitude, one of his own making.

Just for today, he needed it for today...he couldn't take being disappointed today...he couldn't take being let down on a day that was supposed to be happy....he'd rather it was like this, he would rather it hurt...turning away from the window he didn't notice the man who'd seen him standing there, who knew just enough about him...to know something wasn't right...even he'd been asked to leave on this day last year...he'd thought nothing of it but when it happened this year...

Jack knew where the back door entrance was, where the secret key was kept that could only respond to people who had been given permission to use it.

He hadn't been pulled back into this age old time without futuristic tech but full of magic just to stand back and do nothing, he wasn't going to ignore the being that had pulled him from that vault , all that fire and ash , who'd healed him from the madness and eridium poisoning...

He'd observed the world Acylius was in and at first he hadn't seen it but with more and more time he saw how people took from the bird demon, how happy they were to have his help and never ask if he needed something...no something definitely wasn't right if out of all the days this one in particular seemed to change Acylius's mood like this...

Down the hall Acylius's tail feathers dragged, he was already starting to undress , he didn't really need clothes for bed considering his body was covered in silky soft feathers. The windows turned dark as he walked by. Upon reaching his room his clothes folded in his arms.

Entering he set down the folded items and made his way to his bed, curling up and sinking into its softness, if only he could sink into it deeper, sink into that pain and just remember nothing else , nothing to contrast it so he didn't know he was in pain, so he didn't know his heart ached...his eyes closed he let out a few pained sobs only to be startled as he heard a voice, trying to forcefully wipe away his tears he finally noticed the man sitting from across the bed on his high backed chair.

"I'm fine Jack...I...wasn't you going to see your daughter ..."

Jack stared at him, again that was another thing this being had done for him, he'd saved her, healed their family...well it was a work in progress but still...and here he was alone crying ...and still not thinking of himself.

"Lulu shut up...you know she's out travelling at the moment, you're not fine."

He climbed on the bed next to him, he was so much smaller than the demon he was sitting next to , gently wiping away his tears and cradling Acylius's head as he stroked over his feathers.

"Come on Princess, tell me what's wrong?"

Acylius just curled up more for a moment, he said nothing, he didn't want to and when he felt Jack shift , a part of him felt terrified he would leave and pulled him down by his leg to cuddle close. He held him against his chest. Jack settled against the larger body and put his arm and leg around him, just to hold Acylius closer, hold onto him tighter.

"If I tell you ...don't pity me...just stay quiet and don't let go..."

Acylius practically whispered, his voice cracking again as an arm wrapped around Jack's back.

"Yeah...I promise..."

"I was born..."

After that Acylius said nothing.

It took Jack a moment to realise what he meant, oh it was his birthday...what the hell had happened to him in his life to make him reject this day so much...he'd let it go for now....but right now....he'd give Acylius what he wanted , what he needed.

He kissed his neck softly and nuzzled him

"Hey kiddo...."

"I'm hundreds of years older than you."

Lulu murmured.

"Yeah yeah...just ... I'm happy...you were... actually...more than happy, I'm thankful...I don't believe in all that religious god shit...but if there's something out there ...I'm thankful for you...I'm happy I get to hold you now ...that I got my daughter back..."

Acylius looked at him to show he was listening.

"I told you to be quiet Jack."

The bird demon pulled him just a little closer though , Jack just smiled and stroked the feathers on Acylius's back, the comfort of his warmth and gentle strength.

A another few moments silence passed between them and this time it was Acylius to break it.

"I'm thankful for you to... thank you Jack...are you alright with just staying like this tonight?"

Jack nodded and squeezed him affectionately and that was all the answer Acylius needed , closing his eyes, his listened to Jack's heart beat and the soft sound of his breathing, today...while it may not be perfect...today was a happy birthday.

#handsome jack #just imagine him in period drama clothes #Acylius Flug #bird demon #birthday #kinda angsty but also soft #borderlands 2 #au as hell #more for my own comfort

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sam-glade · 9 months

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Find the Words Tag

Tagged by @andromedaexists here and @amewinterswriting here - thank you both💜

I'll pass it onto: @thewardenofwinter @chayscribbles @talesfromaurea @theprissythumbelina with words: heart, square, blind, shape.

From @andromedaexists: PEACE, MIND, SATISFY, & LOVE

PEACE

The gateway spat the three of them onto an open stretch of heathland, dry, green, and empty. Biting wind tumbled over the hills aimlessly. The sun was dipping towards a patch of coniferous woods — a dark smudge on the landscape. Few birds cried in the distance, but otherwise the area appeared deserted. Peaceful.

MIND

As Gullin explained the situation, gradually divulging more and more details, Varré’s head spun. They had wondered what would make the resident prodigy ask for help — not to request the services of another unit, as was well within his rights, but to outright admit that something was beyond him. Well, it appeared that it took an act of treason, an unethical experiment performed on a civilian, and a mind-bending Sword. Amazing.

SATISFY

Ianim demonstrated the movements with infinite patience, and corrected Lissan’s position and the way he held the dull practice sword, arranging Lissan’s limbs with gentle nudges and inevitably making his cheeks flush. You’d want his hands on other parts of you, wouldn’t you? the demon hissed, and Lissan winced away from Ianim. Ianim looked at him in a silent question, but didn’t press. From then on, he avoided physical contact without a word or even an odd look, and Lissan had to accept that it was for the best. It let him focus on the training. It wasn’t an enthralling activity, to repeat the same movement over and over, dozens upon dozens of times, but there was something satisfying about getting it to feel right.

LOVE

“I’d love to give this report to the First Brigadier, Emerald, I really would. Thing is, he seems to be unreachable,” Catnip deadpanned when they’d asked her for an update. That was a fair point, Varré supposed, looking at her with narrowed eyes. Well, shit. They really should have had discussed it with Gullin before taking off. “I’ll relay to him everything you tell me, Catnip,” they promised first. “I also need to visit the Archives, and it was simpler for one of us to make the trip.” “Oh, sure thing, sir. It just got me wondering where our dear little Greenbird’s flown off to.” Varré gave her a withering look. “That’s classified.” She grinned. “Of course it is, sir.”

~*~

From @amewinterswriting: terror, scrape, rustle and tear.

TERROR

Lissan nudged [the children] towards their home and skidded off the causeway, onto the fields, slipping on mud and soggy shrubs, and ignoring all instincts screaming at him to save himself. He walked sideways in the direction they came from, away from the children. The demon’s eyes — four of them — followed him. Lissan yelled, throwing his arms in the air and waving madly, a wordless, primal scream, into which he poured all of his terror. The Dark One charged.

SCRAPE

Gullin dropped to the ground before the remaining stones fell, and flattened himself on his stomach, covering his head with his hands. A shockwave rolled over him not a second later. Clumps of moss, torn up shrubs, and smaller stones pelted his back and hands. And yes, ash. He stayed in place, pressed to the ground by wind strong enough to squeeze the breath out of him. He was going to end up with some scrapes and bruises but nothing requiring a Healer’s attention.

RUSTLE

Rustle of fabric and quiet clicking of heels told him that Gullin stood up. His heart pounding, Lissan sat up on the cot. “Wait! Please,” he called. There was alertness in Gullin’s posture, too familiar from all the sparring in the snow-covered meadow, and so Lissan stayed sitting, feet on the floor, keeping his distance. Not being threatening. Gullin relaxed somewhat. “Can I speak to General Anthea?” Gullin blinked at him and stammered: “You want me to get the Chief Strategist, the First Prince to pay you a visit?” Lissan’s heart fell. Put this way, it sounded ridiculous. He bowed his head, desperate to block out the Nameless’s snickering.

TEAR (asking about the Dark Ones)

“But what are they? Where do they come from?” Lissan pressed as he counted off two more transitions. “We don’t know,” Master Varré said with a shrug. Lissan shot them an unhappy look. “Oh, sure, they tear the Aethereal Fabric that separates this earthly plane from the Underworld, and hop over to prey on our life force, but I can’t say we know what they are.” “Really, sir?” “What, you want me to tell you fairy tales of the Days of Darkness? Or regurgitate the philosophers’ speculations how the Dark Ones are the antithesis of life or how they’re what becomes of evildoers when they die?”

#gifts of fate #tag game #writeblr #writeblr tag game #find the word tag

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atsadi-shenanigans · 6 months

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Feeding Alligators 12 - Hustle

You're getting angry. This does not bode well for the party.

Rated M for language and violence.

On AO3.

You’re picking over bodies, again, when you catch sight of its face. Only for a moment and you’re quick to look away, but enough to catch the mouth full of needle teeth.

Goblins. Actual, living (they were), goblins with big eyes and green skin. You squat down to examine one of the less torn apart bodies. Again, very careful not to look at the face, because avoiding faces means its less likely to stick in your brain later.

The cloth is rough—hide, mostly, but with patches of what looks like crude linen. While you don’t know fashion, exactly, you have a basic knowledge of fabric thanks to that stint in cosplay Sasha (that delightful bitch, good god you miss her) got into a couple years back.

This goblin died clutching a staff with some kind of skull—maybe a goat or a sheep—tied to the end with a bundle of feathers. If they hadn’t been so hopped up on ripping those three guys outside the gate apart, you might have tried to talk to them.

A shadow falls over you. Astarion stands there, not a hair out of place despite the fine spatter of blood across his features that he hasn’t bothered wiping off yet. He’d taken a long-range position when Shadowheart and Lae’zel rushed in. Turns out he’s a good shot with a bow he scavenged off a goblin (after he slit her throat, thus the blood).

“Are you going to take that?” he says.

The dead goblin wears a belt, and on that belt, a pouch. Aside from the dead gnome he’d dropped on you, you haven’t touched a dead thing.

“What?” you say.

He flips his knife, kneels next to you, and slices the pouch free. Metal clinks when he gives it a light toss.

“Into my pocket,” he says cheerfully and does just that.

Leaving you, squatting over the body he robbed. You look up to find every other member of your group doing the same to the other dead.

***

So there’s a whole thing going on inside this Grove place. You keep your distance as a tiefling yells at one of the guys you saved (something about a missing druid) and then punches him out. He says something else about goblin raiders, which you don’t really process, and then something about being forced out, which you do.

The man looks scared shitless, as far as someone with a demon face can. The other tieflings do, too. And the people wearing antlers and feathers and shit look both scared and pissed off. Not at the goblins, though. But at the tieflings. Something about “allowing outsiders brought this on us” and “let them deal with it.”

It’s a very “got mine fuck you” attitude that immediately raises your hackles.

“What an unfortunate situation,” Gale says.

“I don’t think these people will survive such a long trip in their condition,” Shadowheart says.

Astarion says nothing, but you catch him slipping something shiny out of an unsealed crate in a wagon.

“Zevlor did say they had a healer,” Gale says. “I suggest we pay them a visit and see if they have a solution to our infestation problem.”

You tag along. This place feels vaguely Celtic, real nature-y. Apparently the guys with the antler hats are druids? But like, with actual magic who can turn into literal animals.

The group stops to barter with what you think is another gnome, except this one’s ears are round. Then Astarion makes a point to lean over to you and whisper (not quietly), “This one is a halfling.”

So…a hobbit. But they’re not actually called that.

You press your palm over your right eye as the ache spikes. Then you skirt around your group and wander further in. You’re in some sort of cavern with multiple openings. You pass through a ray of golden sunlight pouring in from a hole overhead. There’s a big statue of an animal, the top of the head slightly weathered. Around you, tieflings argue, huddle close and mutter, shovel hay. They’re all holding themselves small and guarded. Gazes darting, like startled birds, never landing on one thing for too long. You can almost feel their misery.

Trapped. Trapped and unable to do a damn thing about it.

Your palms are sweating.

A flash of red. A tiefling child stands in front of a cluster of rocks, swinging his arms. He looks at you for less than a second before shifting away. He’s a scrawny thing, wearing half-ragged tunic with only one shoulder strap. He’s got little ridges laddering down his chest.

They have children, these scared tieflings. Trapped children that know something bad is happening, perhaps without knowing what, exactly, it is.

You wave at the kid. Again, that darting glance. It’s not a suspicious movement. He rocks a little as he stands. He reminds you of one of your paternal cousins (fourth cousin, technically; you have more “kin on our side, don’cha ‘sug?”), who your third cousin (her mother) affectionately calls, “Just a little bit different.”

You crouch down. Look over the kid’s shoulder. He gets hoppy, starts making excited noises. Swings his arm like playing a sword fight.

“You saw us fight off those goblins?” you say. Well, the others did. You clubbed one with your stick which distracted it enough for Astarion to put an arrow through its eye.

The kid nods. Swings his arms again, making those happy sounds.

“Is that something you’d want to learn?” you say.

But this seems to stump him. Or maybe he’s just had enough. He starts to nod but stops, ends up clutching his arm against his chest. You open your mouth to change the subject, but he goes all distant.

Your group has caught up to you. The kid scurries off. The others barely glance your way—Astarion with a sneer—except for Gale. He watches the kid scamper off, and then gives you a smile.

There’s another kid up ahead. Gale seems to take this as an opportunity to talk—the kid offers him a ring, and then makes the biggest mistake of his life when he tells Gale it’s magical.

You’re settling in for some prime time zoning out during the forthcoming lecture, when you register a touch. You look down, follow the wrist to the arm to the second kid with her hand in your pocket, frozen and staring up at you in horror.

Huh. In your periphery, the magic ring kid straightens from his bored slump, and then the pickpocket backs away, crying and blubbering. Which grabs everyone’s attention.

“M’sorry, Mattis, I can’t do this,” the pickpocket wails. She cringes away from you. Like she expects you to hit her.

“Easy there, kiddo,” you say. “It’s okay. No blood, no foul, right? You didn’t hurt nobody; nobody’s gonna hurt you.”

She sniffs a few times. Realizes you aren’t lunging for her and makes a break around you. You let her go. Catch Shadowheart’s unimpressed eyebrow raise and Astarion’s audible scoff.

“In a githyanki creche, thieves are severely punished,” Lae’zel says, making hard eye contact with you like she’s trying to prove some point.

Which she can shove up her ass. It seems the only one not annoyed at you is Gale. These people are a bunch of assholes.

“So where’s this healer?” you say.

As Gale leads the group further into the cavern, the floor sloping down and the glare of sunlight shining through another exit, you pause. Lower your head to murmur to the magic ring kid. “Find a partner who doesn’t get caught.”

The kid, being a shit because everyone in Faerun is, you guess, only rolls his eyes and gives you a, “Yeah, yeah. Outta my way, I’ve got a business to run.”

Part of you want to shove his head. But he lives in a place where stepping over ripped over bodies is normal. Where people loot the dead. Where children are forced to be street thieves while waiting to hear if they’ll be expelled into the waiting arms of sharp-toothed goblins. You don’t need to add to his pile of shit.

Especially when you pass another cluster of tieflings clearly retreating from the cavern exit, throwing nasty looks over their shoulder. Two of them are crying. You catch something about a daughter being taken for “discipline” by some psycho bitch, and your stomach drops out. It’s been a while since you felt that particular wave of dread. Since your lungs clutched up inside your chest and the fear hit so strong it made you dizzy.

A devil child taken for discipline.

Astarion eyeballs you as you sidle up behind them all, talking to two druids and a fucking bear. He must see something in your expression. The little nose wrinkle he sported drops off. “Do you always let yourself be robbed?”

You shrug. Hope the gesture appears loose, like your muscles aren’t wound up to a snapping point. “I’m flat ass broke. Wasn’t nothing for the pipsqueak to take.”

“And if you’d owned anything more than the clothes on your back?”

The druids move aside, all glares and belligerence. The fuck kinda place is this? The fuck kind of shitbag runs a place like this?

You don’t answer. You’re too busy moving up on Gale’s ass and finding out who the fuck this Kahga person is.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate iii #fanfic #astarion #astarion x tav #it's a goddamn isekai #i'm not sorry #no betas we die like men #feeding alligators

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dotthings · 1 year

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Gotham Knights 1x07 "Bad to Be Good"

Thank you to the writers, Allegre Rodriguez & Michelle Furtney-Goodman.

Loved this ep overall. Also bless this series for how it films Misha Collins. Who is himself a work of art.

Following on that theme from the past few eps, Cullen's concern about saving the painting from the black market, where it would wind up hidden from public eyes, is very community-minded of him. He also genuinely cares about the role of art. Steph also takes this up, as we're told they talked about "the importance of art." But also during their coffee and art talk, found a link to their immediate interests and needs.

Harper wonders why she or the Knights should care about works of communal value. She only gets interested when Steph tells them the paintings were all owned by Alan Wayne, which is a link to the Court of Owls. Harper needs a specific and immediate purpose link that involves self-preservation or protecting people she's close to before she cares. Cullen and Steph see a bigger picture but are also motivated by the specific interest and needs, they do both.

Carrie and Duela are a really fun chaos duo, opposites conspiring together and bickering the whole time. Carrie's judging-you-both faces at Eunice and Duela, the epic eye-rolls, Carrie regretting all her life choices, Carrie's thinking FML how did I wind up in this mess. And then Duela eye-rolling over Carrie. Comedy gold. The beginnings of that friendship was unexpected. They're demonstrating different points on the morality and ethics scale. This show has a lot of moral relativism. "Potato, tomato, little bird." Carrie was morally right, but wrong in this situation, Duela isn't ethical, but Duela's antics allowed them to save Detective Green's family.

Eunice stabbing Duela's hand with the ballerina from her music box was very hard core.

Turner seems like he's emerging as more of a leader in this ep. He's also using the bat-toys. Following his dad's legacy, but in his own way, not trying to be Batman.

I immensely enjoy how Misha plays every scene in this like the lead in a classic Hollywood noir or suspense thriller. He's got some great Jimmy Stewart, Cary Grant, Humphrey Bogart vibes going on. That shot of the cordless phone ringing, looming ridiculously large in foreground, is also vintage Hollywood, Hitchcock kind of style. Misha has the range, the gravitas, and the camera adores him. And Harvey's a whole meal of a character here (on top of being an absolute snack), one of the few decent Gotham leaders, a regular guy in over his head, wondering if he's going mad, trying to solve the mystery, plagued by his inner demons, while being a good person, but shadows over his shoulder.

Lauren Stamile does a great job playing Rebecca March. Her role here is the femme fatale of classic Hollywood. Vulnerable, sincere, yet a touch dangerous. Doesn't mean Rebecca is lying. But anyone who's watched some of those old films knows there could be some plot twists. I wonder where this arc is going to lead.

Steph tending to Harper's wound outside the warehouse and in the end scenes. Their cute flirting. The little smiles. After Harper saved Steph from mobster bullets, Steph taking care of Harper's bullet wound. Enemies to reluctant allies to sorta kinda friends to lovers? Yes please.

Cressida going to Harvey for help...might be sincere. It's looking like all of Gotham is in deadly peril, so much so that Cressida's fear for the fate of millions is overcoming her fear for herself. If the Court's bigger picture plans are a lot more dire than just controlling Gotham financially and socially. Something has scared her badly. Or it's another ploy.

That's one of the fun things about this series, there's a lot of layers, and secrets inside secrets and things not being what they seem.

#Harvey Dent #Misha Collins #Gotham Knights #Gotham Knights CW #GK meta #GK spoilers

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sixminutestoriesblog · 7 months

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feldgeister

Humanity has a long history with harvest fields. Planting and harvesting grains was the first group act that let ancient humanity put down roots and settle in one place instead of following the seasons and the herds. For the first time, humanity was able to, en mass, set aside food against the starvation of the winter months. Planting and harvesting quite literally changed the face of the world and the fate of the people that lived on it. House clusters that didn't have to be temporary sprang up, towns and then cities followed. Society changed in a way that has to be mind boggling to try to fathom millennia later for most of us, so ingrained in this now standard 'normal' that we are. For the first time ever, humanity told the world how things were going to go instead of simply being at the whim of a changing environment. The old gods of the hunt and the wild places faded from their prominence as people gathered in settlements and imprinted order and routine on the world around them.

The old shadows of the wild places were fading - but that doesn't mean there were no new shadows taking their place in this new human order. Harvest, and the growing fields before it, suddenly held all the capricious danger that venturing out to hunt in the wild areas used to. Rain at the wrong time, drought, pestilence, enemies raiding or razing the fields full of food, blight or crop disease - the uncertainty of relying on hunting for survival was replaced with the uncertainty of fields surviving to harvest. And so, into those crop fields of grain and green, crept the spirits of the harvest, for good or ill, to remind humanity that everything came with a price and nothing was ever certain forever.

In the Germanic territories, these field spirits were called Feldgeister.

Sometimes they were also called Korndämonen. The corn demons.

And iron and other worked metals weren't going to save you either. Several of the Feldgeister used, or were even made of, iron.

As field spirits, the Feldgeister are broken down into what kind of field they live in. A Roggenwolf spirit for instance hunted the rye fields while a Getreidewolf hunted the grains. A Kornwolf stuck to the corn and Gerstenwolf stuck to the barley. Haferwolf for oats, Erbsenwolf for peas, Kartoffelwolf for potatoes, Graswolf for grass and even a Pflaumenwolf for plums. All of those were shaped like wolves and hunted children though the growing fields, ravenous and merciless.

Often, in fact, the field spirits took the forms of animals. There was a bear. There were cats. There were donkeys, pigs, goats and cows. If you name a common village animal, birds included, it probably had a Feldgeister taking its form while living in the fields outside of town. There was even a dog, that haunted the fields looking for little children to tickle to death.

Stealing and harming children was actually a common theme with the Feldgeister. There's nothing like warning children of things waiting to eat them to keep them from wandering into the fields unattended where careless feet could crush young plants or hungry mouths could snack down on a future harvest before it could be safely set aside for the winter months. There were quite a few hungry spirits waiting in the fields to snatch up children that wandered in hunting for the blue cornflowers that grew there.

It wasn't just children the Feldgeister were dangerous for. There was a female goat spirit that was fond of bringing evil with her. Hearing her cry in the spring was a full season of bad luck and if anyone dared imitate her cry to scare their neighbors, she would show up as a bloody coat draped over the offender's door if he was lucky and if he wasn't she would hunt him down, scratching him up on a good day, eating him alive on a bad one. She ran with the Wild Hunt on stormy nights and struck anyone foolish enough to look out their window into the darkness beyond. Anyone spotting her, day or night, was in for a bad time while their fields rotted and their cows refused to give milk. To hear her cry in autumn meant a long lean winter with rot in the hay. And yes, she too kidnapped, attacked or killed children she came across.

The Feldgeister didn't just take animal form however. They were fond of hybrid versions as well as straight up human forms too.

The Roggenmuhme, the 'rye aunt', took the form of an old woman with fiery fingers and sagging breasts that were often full of tar to the point of dripping as well as being tipped with iron. To run, she had to throw them over her shoulders. As humorous a mental picture as that may be, she used those long iron breasts to beat children to death and was capable of running as fast as a horse when she was chasing someone. She could blow a child's eyesight right out of their eyes and that was if she didn't crush them in an iron hug or grind them into mortar in her iron butter churn. She was the mother of the rye wolf and could become one herself. She also sometimes kept small, harmless seeming dogs she would use to lure little children into the field where they would become a meal for her. She was entirely black or entirely white in color and she carried a birch she used to strike lightning sparks.

Strangely, the Roggenmuhme wasn't entirely foreboding. Rotting fields meant she was punishing the farmer, but seeing a Roggenmuhme (presumably from a safe distance away) walking through your fields meant good luck and a strong harvest. She also played pranks on maidservants that weren't doing their work properly to keep them working hard.

Another human-looking spirit was the Hafermann, a sometimes anti-Semitic caricature, and corn demon that took the form of a man wearing a black hat and carrying a long iron tipped walking stick. He would kidnap or simply beat stray children that wandered into the field to death with his iron staff.

Sometimes the Feldgeister came in a more obscure form. Both the Bilwis and the Windsbraut took the form of whirlwinds, sweeping through the fields to cause destruction. Both could be defeated by throwing a knife with three crosses carved in it into them. This would either dissipate them, or they'd have to stop what they were doing and beg the farmer to pull out the knife since they were not able, being willing to exchange leaving him alone in trade.

Eventually, harvest time comes for everyone though, and the spirits of the Feldgeister fled into the interior of the fields as the reapers worked their way through the ripe stalks. The very last stalk of the harvest became their prison. Sometimes cutting it killed them. Sometimes it only put them to sleep, waiting through the winter until springtime, when the carefully saved last head of grain will be broken up into the newly plowed fields and the entire cycle will start all over again.

#feldgeister #harvest spirits #folklore #superstition #harvest season #rye aunt #corn demon #korndamonen #roggenmuhme #harvest tradition #autumn #harvest #iron #it won't save you this time #corn field #rye

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team-mythic-beasts · 2 months

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Team Mythic Beasts: Let’s Talk Designs!

Also Included: (Updated) Birthdays, Ages, MBTI, Heights

(Note: Special thanks to @levijonescc, creator of the Aveyond 4 x Hetalia mod, for inspiring this project; without you we may not be here today. Btw I suck at drawing humanoid characters so I used this base)

It took me almost seven years to finalize the boys’ designs, but here they are!

Besides the pictures, I’ve also invited them here to explain the thought process behind their outfits. They will go in order of color, so this time we’re starting off with… Jones!

❤️ The Wolf- Jones Fitzgerald

(Apr 25 ♉️ | 29 y/o | INTJ | 177cm / 5’9”)

It’s only fair that the best-looking guy in the bunch gets the first word… so why does Luke keep getting all the spotlight? I’m supposed to be the main character!

Anyways, hope you aren’t too scared from all the spikes and flame patterns that I wear. Intimidation is a huge factor in designing a villain outfit, and I take great pride in being called scary. The flames are for another reason too— I’m a fire mage, and those who cross me shall beware the heat.

The cape was a reward from a quest I took up long ago. I saved a village from a demonic wolf, and they gave me some of her fur to wear as a trophy. In a way, it’s a reminder not to let my beloved Hiro go down the same path as his mother… but I do look quite big with the cape, don’t you think?

Even without my armor, cape, and giant coat, I still look like I’m onto some villain-y business, with the vest and jewel… Wait, what do you mean “yeehaw,” Makoto?! I’m not a cowboy!

🧡 The Dragon- Ludovic Brant

(He forgot 😢 | 70+ y/o (physically 25) | ISTJ | 200cm / 6’6”)

… Hello there. I did not expect such a quick debut.

As you can likely tell from my hardened look, my story is about battling demons. I was promised greater progress by the others in Team Mythic Beasts, and they have been of great help in my quest.

I made my armor from various monsters that I have slain in battle, but the helmet, specifically, is from an a assassin sent by my former captor. It put up a tough fight, that’s for sure, but nothing beats the fury of a dragon.

Underneath my armor is a simple outfit I put together in Moriad, where I have lived as a refugee for quite a few decades now. I asked my dwarf neighbors if they could make me custom wear, but it was too much for them. Therefore, every piece is made by hand, by myself.

… Yes. That is all.

💛 The Lion- Mikkel Anderson

(Dec 5 ♐️ | 19 y/o | ISFJ | 183cm / 6’0”)

Evil beware, the Lion of Team Mythic Beasts is here!

When I was a young lad, I’d be carrying heavy stuff everywhere to build up strength for all this armor that I wear now. That means I have to eat a lot of food every day, too! But underneath all this steel, I’m just a humble little guy from the city outskirts.

Oh, this medal? I got it from Lord Kristan! He’s the legendary founder of my hometown, Alphica, and he’s been watching over me and my nan since I was born.

So… that should cover everything about my outfit. You can probably tell I’m not as flashy as my friends; they’ll have a lot more to talk about than I do, I’m sure!

💚 The Weasel- Arthur Blackwood

(Oct 23 ♏️ | 36 y/o | ESTJ | 175cm / 5’8”)

Ha ha ha ha ha!!! If trouble is what you’d expect at the sight of a witch like me, then you’d be right— but you’ve got to be a total numbskull to get on my bad side. My long, sharp nails aren’t the only things you should worry about.

Not a fan of heavy clothes, since potions is my specialty; a simple coat, protective armwear, and a ragged cape does the job for me. As for the bird skull on my shoulder, one of the Raven Lord’s “beloved children” decided it was a good idea to get in the way of my curses— (MAKOTO’S NOTE: THIS DID NOT HAPPEN.)

Purple and cyan? Meh. Black, green, and silver? Classic. No idea what the witchcraft school I went to was thinking when they designed our uniforms, but I’ve done a better job than they ever will. It’s a shame my brothers don’t think the same.

That’s all you need to hear from me. Now get lost before I turn you into a frog!

🩵 The Eagle- Finn Dentrad (né Teryekol)

(Aug 28 ♍️ | 24 y/o | INTP | 162cm / 5’3”)

Looks like my days as an adventurer are not over yet!

My outfit used to be a lot lighter. Shorts, summer jacket, loafers… they’re comfy, no doubt, but I needed something to reflect the things I’m actually good at— engineering and mechanics. So I decided to switch them out for some heavy duty wear.

Now, I’m fully covered up from the neck down, because building stuff, especially gadgets, isn’t really a safe activity. My coat is long enough for protection, but not too long as to get caught in the middle of moving gears. Yikes! Just thinking about that frightens me.

My eyes are just as important for my talent, so I’ve switched out my hat for a pair of goggles. Combine that with my new coat and waist pockets… don’t I look a lot more reliable now?

Oh, one more thing… I’ve had so many people tell me how heavy my backpack is. Is it really? The only stuff in there are bigger mechanical parts and my robot dog Hanatamago, that’s all…

💙 The Bear- Fra’ser Du’randt

(Jun 26 ♋️ | 39 y/o | ENFJ | 175cm / 5’8”)

*yawns* … Oh, hey there. Sorry, I was busy… looking into other people’s dreams.

How is that possible? Well, not long after I came to this world, the Lord of Dreams made me his assistant. He gave me the power to access the dreams of other individuals at any given time, whether I’m awake or in the process of dreaming. Dispelling nightmares is my job, as well as my specialty.

My Lord designed and created my entire outfit. Blue and purple are the colors of dreams in this world, so it’s only natural that he would choose such hues. The sleeves of my coat are styled just like his, and my base wear resembles the uniform I had at my last job. I do miss my friends back there, but I’m happy to be able to serve my Lord. He is truly a kind deity.

Of course, fighting night terrors is a dangerous job, so the cape and armbands serve as protection. My downwards moon earring also acts as a talisman. All in all, it warms my heart that my Lord had considered so much when he made me this costume.

💜 The Fox- Lucas Reynard

(May 6 ♉️ | 110 y/o (physically 20) | INFP | 178cm / 5’10”)

Oh wow, I’m finally last for once. You probably know me well enough by now, as I’m all over this blog as well as Makoto’s Instagram page, if that’s how you found us here.

Every single item you see on me is a gift. Most are from my sisters, but gods have asked of my favor as well. I have no idea what they saw in me, but… alright. Pretty cool, I guess. If you want to know from whom is which, do let me know. By the way, if you look very closely at my choker, it has my initials on it.

Somehow, training with my family had helped me grow a pair of wings, fox ears, and a tail. No, this doesn’t make my hearing any better, nor can I fly... These parts are made of mist, and depending on my mood or energy level, can sometimes appear translucent or not show up at all.

The face markings... I got them while learning how to shapeshift under the God of Colors. He told me that every shapeshifter, whether born with the talent or learned it later in life, has a unique mark, or a combination of them. It’s not evident in my main form, but when I turn into a fox, the canine facial structure reveals the full shape of my marks— four diamonds.

Oh, sorry, I spoke too much… Well, if you want to know more about our outfits, feel free to ask. For now, have this— our very own mascot collection, Team MiniB. It was my idea, by the way.

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deyageka · 2 years

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Evil!Young Justice 98: The Juvelines (a concept)

I haven’t exactly read Young Justice 2019 yet, but I always thought the idea of them fighting against their evil counterparts from an alternate dimension was entertaining. I’m thinking of making some redesigns of their evil counterparts but with the YJ98 gang instead.

It would also take place in Earth-3 where the evil Justice League (known as The Crime Syndicate) exists. This version of Young Justice would be called “The Juveniles”. Other names I had in mind was the Young Juveniles, Young Syndicate or Teen Tyranny but for the last one, it felt more in tune with an evil version of the Teen Titans/Titans who in this universe are called “Tyrants”.

Right now I have their alter egos somewhat figured out:

Kon-El = Jon-Lex/Jon Lane Luther (Supremo): I was debating on the name Ultraboy since evil!Superman in Earth-3 was called Ultraman, but I thought Supremo sounded much cooler. Also idk how Kryptonian names work. I didn’t like the name Luther-El from YJ!2019’s version of evil!Kon so I decided to name him after Kon’s New52 counterpart. Apparently New52!Kon was called Jon Lane Kent so I decided to mix the two names together so it wouldn’t confuse with Jon Samuel Kent. I envision Jon-Lex/Supremo with a costume and design similar to New52!Kon, tho I’m debating giving him a mohawk instead of that tame white boy haircut New52!Kon had.

Tim Drake = Tim Jackson (Draken): Basically New52!Tim but more evil and with a dragon themed costume design inspired by his YJ!2019 brown suit but more cooler looking. I was debating on calling him Heron instead since it sounded just as cool (Owlman and Heron vs Batman and Robin) but I wanted something other than a bird themed alias. I was thinking of giving him a spear or a long mace to contrast the bo-staff. ((I’ll save the Heron concept for another time))

Bart Allen = Bar Torr (Instance or Altros): New52!Bart but with inverted color scheme for his suit. (I know I’m getting most of my insp. from New 52) I’m thinking of giving him a blue color scheme so as not to confuse him with Inertia. Also maybe give him ginger/red hair too. I know his alias is silly but out of all the synonyms for Impulse, Instance clicked the most. The alias, Altros, is a close second (named after Altros Prime where Bar Torr in the New 52 came from). My other option was calling him Dasher but that didn’t appeal to me as much and YJ!2019 evil version had the alias Speed Zone which I thought was kinda lame.

Cassie Sandsmark = Cassidy Sandsmark (Amaxon Thunder): I thought YJ!2019’s version of evil Cassie was the most appealing in concept compared to the others. I actually liked the alias Amaxon Thunder though her design looked like just a mini Wonder Woman. I’m thinking of giving her a suit similar to her New52 design but less revealing. For her hair, I’ll either keep it black like the 2019 version or make it dirty blond.

Cissie King-Jones = Suzy Ann Jones (Bowstringer): I’m still brainstorming what this evil!Cissie would look like. I’m thinking of giving her a green color scheme, similar to Artemis’s design in YJA, with a sporty double dutch braid. As for her name, it derives from her first name “Suzanne”. For the alias “Bowstringer” I read that Cissie’s father was nicknamed “Bowstring”. In this dimension, Evil!Cissie’s/Suzy’s father is alive instead of her mother and Suzy takes more after him.

Greta Hayes = Gretel Hayes (Clandestine): I’m thinking of making this version of Greta a demonic, vengeful ghost. Gretel would either have an even paler color scheme with a cooler tint or a darker color scheme that resembles a shadow ghost. I’ll have to use horror movie ghosts references for this design, though I want her to look eerie instead of downright terrifying (idk how I’m gonna achieve that😅)

Anita Fite = Iwana Fite (Imperatrix) I have a vague idea of how I want evil!Anita to look like. I’m thinking of giving her a silver halo crown that obscures her eyes with a royal blue color scheme. The alias “Imperatrix” is a synonym for empress, and Empress vs Imperatrix sounds so badass.

Slobo = ? : Unfortunately, I couldn’t think of an evil version of Slobo. Technically, Slobo is just a mini clone of Lobo who’s an anti hero/villain, so what I was thinking was having Slobo be the one to encounter evil!Young Justice/The Juveniles from a dimension traveling mishap, with Young Justice having to rescue him from their evil selves or smthing like that

These concepts are subject to change once I actually get to drawing them tho.

Feel free to share any thoughts or ideas :3

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clotpolesonly · 2 years

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A Nightmare In Fuchsia

for the Stiles Shipping Central discord’s monthly ficlet exchange!! @illbeintheend i tried to go for more humor than fluff 😂 lemme know if i succeeded haha

(also on AO3)

Stiles had never anything against flamingos. They were a little garish, sure, and they made any and all merchandise using their likeness positively reek of Florida vibes whether the product actually had anything to do with Florida or not, but Stiles had always had a certain amount of respect for flamingos. They had flair! They had a great gimmick with the whole one-foot-balancing thing! They could survive in weirdly extreme climates and conditions!

All in all, they were pretty cool birds. Stiles had never had any problem with flamingos. But apparently, today, they had a problem with him.

Or, more accurately, the sorcerer—yes, he was Floridian, go figure—had a problem with the whole pack and had decided to express this grievance in the form of a goddamn flock of fucking demon flamingos let loose to chase them through the Preserve. Stiles was no expert, but he was pretty sure normal flamingos didn’t have teeth like that. Crashing through the trees behind him, hot on his trail, they sounded just like the velociraptors from Jurassic Park. Maybe they were a hybrid or something.

Stiles didn’t turn around to look more closely. His only saving grace was that it was, for once, not the middle of the night and he could actually see where he was putting his feet this time. That was probably the only thing that had saved him from tripping and rolling face-first off a cliff by now, to be set upon and likely eaten.

Good god, he was really gonna be taken out by Florida Man’s life-sized snow globe decoration turned attack bird. This is not how he’d planned to die. He’d been hoping for something with a little more dignity to it, and, okay, maybe he spoke too soon about not tripping off a cliff.

He’d just grabbed hold of a tree branch to fling himself to one side—zigzagging was for alligators, but why shouldn’t it work here too?—when his foot found a slippery patch of leaves, and then he was falling. It was a hill he rolled down, not a cliff, but it still hurt like a bitch with every point of impact. His bones rattled and his breath was gone and the pterodactyl shrieks were suddenly a hell of a lot closer and there was nothing he could do but lie there and hope everything stopped spinning in time for him to start running again.

One second, there was a whole lot of pink encroaching on his blurry field of vision. The next, there was familiar green plaid and a roar that shook the ground. Stiles was too busy heaving an enormous sigh of relief to see if Jackson actually fought the damn things or if they just got spooked and booked it back to their master, but the next thing he knew, Jackson was on his knees beside him.

“Hey, dumbass,” Jackson said, worriedly. “You break an bones?”

“Love you too, sweetcheeks. And I don’t think so.”

With Jackson’s help, Stiles managed to force his battered body into an upright position, but there wasn’t much he could do about his dignity. The perfectly smooth, expressionless look on Jackson’s face spoke volumes.

“Go ahead and laugh,” Stiles told him.

Jackson’s mouth twitched. “I’m not laughing. There’s nothing to laugh at. You almost died.”

“I almost got eaten by evil magic flami—”

Stiles didn’t even finish that ludicrous statement before Jackson lost it. And he really lost it. Two years of dating the guy and Stiles had never seen Jackson laugh so hard, including that time Lydia had gotten lightly electrocuted and ended up with her hair a gigantic staticky orange cloud around her head. He even forsook his nice, high-quality clothes in favor of falling back into the dirt and rolling around in it.

“Oh, ha fucking ha,” Stiles yelled. “It’s not that funny!”

“You’ve got—” It took Jackson three tries to actually make words. “—a feather in your—” He reached out to paw at Stiles’ head. “—hair!”

Stiles swatted the offending feather, obnoxiously pink, out of his hand. “I’m never going to a zoo again. Fuck flamingos! Flamingos are canceled, you hear me? I’m gonna be having nightmares about this for years. You’re paying for my therapy bills.”

Jackson didn’t even protest that, too busy wiping at his streaming eyes and trying to figure out how to breathe again. Eventually, he noticed the intensity of Stiles’ pouting. He rolled himself upright again and kissed him.

“I’m glad you’re not bird food,” he said solemnly. “And I’ll make it up to you.”

Stiles pouted harder. “You better. I expect sexual favors. Many, many sexual favors. And pampering! Massages! Literally all of me is sore, and I’m officially making it your problem.”

“Fine by me.”

Jackson got to his feet first and offered Stiles his hand, levering him off the ground with the kind of ease that always made Stiles a tiny bit horny. He was too tired for it now, though. Also his ankle might have been twisted. Stupid fucking birds. With an aggravated huff, he leaned against Jackson and said, “No one can know about this. Ever. You hear me?”

“Oh, absolutely everybody is gonna hear about this,” Jackson said immediately. “Both because it’s important to study the enemy’s tactics and because it’s fucking hilarious and we could all use a laugh or two.”

“Oh my god, I hate you. I hate you so much.”

“Not as much as you hate flamingos.”

Stiles laughed against his will. “I don’t know, man. The flamingos at least have the excuse of being creatures of pure evil! You’re just a dick.”

“Yeah,” Jackson sighed, completely unrepentant. “But I also suck dick, so it all evens out in the end.”

That much was true, and he proved it as soon as they got back to the jeep. Twice. It was almost good enough to make up for the indignity of how hard the rest of the pack laughed when Jackson told them the tale.

#Stackson #Stiles Stilinski #Jackson Whittemore #Teen Wolf #fics by me #yes i am floridian i'm allowed to make all the florida man jokes i want aldkjfgh

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comfort-questing · 2 years

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out of the red canyon

FE:3H academy phase -> TW whump of minors (teens), (temporary) character death of same

---

They brought me back with them, of course, though I don't remember it.

I think I was having conversations with Sothis most of the way home to Garreg Mach; she and I were standing in a room with sunlight falling at strange angles, and she was telling me how we'd actually had a very good day after all. I didn't believe her, but she kept talking anyway. Sothis was good at that.

"Teacher, dear," Edelgard was saying, somewhere outside the room with the sunlight in it. "Please wake up. Flayn's crying, and nobody knows what to do about it."

"Seteth is going to skin us if he comes in and Flayn's crying," said Caspar. "Just so you know."

Someone was coughing, too, a painful rib-scraping sound with gasps in between. I remembered Yuri bent over in the canyon dust, hacking up phlegm and purpleish blood in the shadow of the Demonic Beast. I remembered Shamir staggering against a background of shimmering poison fog. Or was she on the rock-strewn ground instead, neck askew and eyes empty, one bloodied hand reaching out for her bow? The afterimage burned behind my eyes wavered, cloudy.

"...if we hadn't followed her..." I heard Ferdinand's hushed murmur, almost frightened.

Ferdinand fell limp to the ground, horse stumbling, amid the cloud of rubble, and fell again, and again.

"...had to break some of her bones again to mend them properly," Manuela's voice said. "No, it's not anyone's fault - just sometimes a vulnerary gulped down in the middle of a battle isn't the end-all and be-all of medicine, you know..."

I saw the wolf's claws sweeping towards me, rotten with dirt and the remnants of its prey, and flinched back, into the fresh embrace of pain. A half-gloved hand rested on my forehead, somewhere beyond where Sothis smiled patiently at me and brought me up again from the dirt, rewinding time and pulling my shattered unbeating heart back into life.

"...running a fever." Edelgard again, a sharp worried note in that I barely knew how to place. "Can't you do anything more? She's burning up."

Burning, like the sun in the cloudless blue sky. But the wings of the giant bird blotted out the sun, as Petra lay in a lifeless heap below. Or was she on her feet, stumbling, hair dark gleaming crimson in the sun, shrieking a Brigid war cry as she swung her sword at its outstretched talons?

I didn't know. I wanted to look up and find out, but my eyes were so heavy, and the blankets pinned me down without doing anything to stop my shivers. I sobbed, my throat aching, because I didn't know if I'd been good enough to save them all, all of my students who'd followed me fearless into the jagged canyon's mouth.

...Jeralt would tell me if any of them had died. He always told me the truth.

But Jeralt wasn't here. I had seen him fall, too, that day in the ruined chapel, and this time there was no other memory to contradict.

"Teacher," said Edelgard, and I could smell the faint scent of battle and ashes and sweat on her, and feel her breath on my face. Hers was the hand against my cheek, I thought, hazily - a strangely warm solid point in the midst of a cold strange world.

"Teacher," said Dorothea, "wake up." She stood on the edge of the precipice, wreathed in gleaming sigils, upraised hand sending burning white meteors rushing towards the demonic beast looming above me.

But that wasn't now. That was memories. I knew that.

Safe, I signed, my fingers sluggish on the blankets. The very tendons of my arm ached at the motion. Safe all you... question.

Someone caught their breath, sharp and sudden.

"Yes, we're all safe, Teacher."

Yuri's voice, hoarse and gravelled between coughs, from somewhere not far away - "We're here anyway."

"Go to them," said Sothis, her small face solemn beneath the green masses of her braids. The sunlight came from behind her and from her own hands at the same time. "And you were telling me you weren't the favorite professor!"

Every time I had fallen, I had gotten up. That was my gift, for whatever reason, from whatever source. I used it for myself but I had used it for them, too, and it would be enough; it had to be enough...

I opened my eyes.

The infirmary, in its candlelit evening dim. Manuela, standing by the next bed over, with an arm under Yuri's shaking shoulders as she guided a cup to his lips. Flayn wrapped in a quilt by the fireplace, sniffling into an immense handkerchief, with Ferdinand tentatively patting her back. Shamir sitting on the floor, her arm in a sling, scowling and sipping soup one-handed from a bowl. Caspar leaning against the wall by the window. Bernadetta rocking back and forth on the edge of a chair nearby, with Hapi rubbing her shoulders and Constance fussing with the bandage on her own forehead. Dorothea standing on one side of my bed, twisting her hands together. Edelgard on the other side, kneeling, her dirt-smudged face level to me and her eyes gravely fixed on my face.

Sothis was still there, sitting at the foot of the bed; she nodded at me, before I blinked and she was gone.

They were safe - my Black Eagles. I felt the unfamiliar shape of a smile stretch across my lips, and leaned into Edelgard's hand.

Happy, I signed, and let my eyes close again.

#whump #hurt comfort #lady whump #fe3h whump #tw minor whump #temporary character death mention #crow writes a thing #minor crests of hurt comfort #crossposting to ao3

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abominationvault · 2 months

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Session 29: Sat Mar 30 2024

Sprocket does the recap, even though he wasn’t there. He wins a Hero point for himself and a second one for Luna, and I get one as well because it’s my birthday :) Hartvig is late, so Skabb takes out her phone to spam the group chat and wake him up in the event that he’s fallen asleep. He appears on Discord as she’s about to press send, thus negating the need; she is disappointed.

Jorg’ath reminds us about the contract we were asked to look for, for the demon who got stuck here in a bargain with Velcro. We haven’t found it yet. Hartvig takes a moment to concentrate and reduce his curse a bit before we move on. He gets a focus point back, but can’t cast the focus spell again until he’s rested, if I have understood that correctly. (Sprocket watches him, with his little beady eyes.) Jorg’ath does a Medicine check and regains some much needed HP, and then mutes so he can eat some cake.

Augie may or may not join us; the DM asks us to make a convincing argument for why he would help us. He decides ultimately that Augie will join us, but only for the rest of this section of the dungeon.

Skabb can’t seem to separate her token from Grabby Cat’s; she wants to team up with Augie and do one-two-three-wheeeee’s with Grabby in the middle.

And on through the double doors to the last boss of this floor…

Jorg’ath and Hartvig take either side of the doors and the rest of us arrange ourselves in strategic places. Sprocket does a quick medicine check (and fails, so Skabb slaps some mud on him instead), and Skabb casts Mystic Armour on herself:

Hartvig and Jorg’ath throw open the doors - there is a large room with smashed display cases and a huge figure of a woman. The statue smells awful. In front of it stands this:

She smiles at us. “Guests! Give up your equipment and your lives, and you can join the Cult of the Canker. If you accept the gift of ghoul fever we will lock you away until your transformation is complete.”

We decline. Jorg’ath counteroffers his broadsword.

She demands that we hand Augie over so she can add him to the effigy behind her. It is made up of parts of many different creatures. Jorg’ath flips the double bird and attacks her. “Your art is puerile and derivative!” Hartvig cries, earning him the DM’s amusement and a Hero Point.

Off we go!

Sprocket is up first, to his mild dismay. “What on earth can I do,” he wonders. He casts Boost Eidolon, and Augustus leaps up onto one of the display cabinets in front of a cultist. He proceeds to violently assault the ghoul in the robes, 23 to hit. 9 total damage, a good start.

Hartvig. “Right.” He casts Needle Darts at the same cultist. Green damage number, 15! Battle mage! He casts Guidance on Lizard Boy for his last action.

The cultist uses all three actions to cast Harm, forcing a Fortitude save from everyone within 30 feet - Grabby, Augustus, Skabb and Jorg’ath. Everyone fails, but no-one critically. It is a Necromancy spell, so Augustus gets a bonus to his save, and succeeds! The other cultist moves to hit Nadia and Hartvig with Grim Tendrils. “Bad touch,” Nadia shouts. Both fail, and take 6 Negative and 1 persistent Bleed damage.

Jorg’ath is next, and he Rages as he strides toward the named one. Nakhhkdslfjgnn. Nagini? Naghhhhhh. Nhakazarin, that's it. He smashes her with his greatsword, but 18 misses. Even with the +1 from Guidance, 19 still misses. DM: “She’s the boss.” Jorg’ath: “Yeah, but… come on, now.” He uses his last action to grapple her. (DM: “Ne touchez pas!”) He rolls 17 Athletics, which is a miss.

It is the ghouls’ turn, and one moves to flank Augustus and claw him in the back. 28 hits, Fortitude save. Critical hit, 8 damage, but he passes the save. (The DM is as disappointed as we are relieved.) He has to make another save, for what sounds like bullshit DM reasons to me. Augustus is Paralysed…

Nadia checks to see where Augie is before throwing a vial of Holy Water at the cultist. It misses, but she does splash damage. She shoots it as well for good measure.

Luna is hidden, so she puts her head around the door frame to see what’s what. She can aim at the boss, so she does. Or not, with a 15. She Hero Points that, but a 19 is still a miss. She tries again - wait, the boss is flat footed, so the 19 hits! She gets her sneak attack damage as well. She uses her third action to re-hide with a 21.

Nhakasdlgjlfg;hjjjh does Vampiric Touch on Jorg’ath, 23 hits. He fails his save, and takes 23 ‘little’ negative damage. “Well… I don’t agree,” Jorg’ath counters. She bites him, and the damage number is green… He makes two Fortitude saves - 20 and 19. “Swines!” the DM cries, but Jorg’ath is Paralysed.

Grubby Gobbo. “This ugly bastard that’s come up for a kiss, is he just a regular ghoul?” She wants to know if they have attacks of opportunity, but none of us can remember. She wants to have Grabby fly over to the meat effigy and steal the head. Can she do that in one turn? No, because she would have to move-interact-move and she only gets two turns, and also the head is much too big for her to carry.

Skabb uses her Wand of Healing to cast Heal on the ghoul in front of her instead. It fails the save and takes 4 damage increased to… I assume, a bigger number. “It did not like that,” is all we find out. She casts Hydraulic Push on Bitch Tits; the idea is to knock her into the effigy. The roll is a critical against a ghoul, but would only be a regular hit against the boss for 7 damage. Not bad, but doesn’t push her over.

Augie Augie Augie! He runs in and attacks a ghoul with a a 28 to hit. “The best thing about Augie is how miserable he makes you,” Skabb tells the DM as he laments - again - ever letting us have him.

Sprocket will bust out his second level spell slot to cast Summon Construct; we are all suitably impressed. He can summon animated silverware! That isn’t in the book, so the DM offers him an Elite Homunculus instead? It has an attack, so Sprocket will grudgingly accept this substitute.

“… That’s disgusting,” says the DM, as he reads through the stats. Sprocket: “I’m interested, go on.” The homunculus has a poison gland in its head, apparently. It also has two actions, and can use them immediately - which it does to bite the ghoul in the dick. 25 hits for 5 dick damage. “Can the second action be chewing,” Sprocket wants to know. No, but he can have a Hero Point for being disgusting. The homunculus bites it again instead, 21 also hits for more crotch damage. “Gross,” says the DM.

Hartvig is up. “Meeee. Okay.” He does Needles at the same cultist again - 22 hits! Howdy Doodis! “I perforate it. I imagine that releases some amount of… corpse gas.” He moves back, stands on Sprocket by accident, and respectfully side steps.

The remaining cultist casts Harm, but a 2 actioner this time. It runs up to Nadia. “Ew! No!”

Augustus does a save against his paralysis - 20! He is freed from paralysis.

A ghoul runs up and bites at Nadia, and misses.

She stabs the ghoul, now flanked by it and the cultist. First attack is a crit for 10 damage, then four more, then a miss. She will now await her commuffins.

Luna hits the ghoul twice, with no bonuses from Nadia being next to it because that’s D&D, not Pathfinder. She hides again and disappears into the shadows.

It’s Boss Bitch’s turn. The DM deliberates how to murder us all the most effectively. She does Vampiric Touch again on Augie but misses. He has to make a Fortitude save - but the DM is reminded that negative damage will heal Augie, so he retracts the attack. BB would know not to do that. “Please fail your save, you rotten little creature - oh goddammit.”

“That’s what it feels like, [DM], that’s what it feels like,” Sprocket tells him as Augie aces his save, and we are threatened with the removal of Augie’s person from the entire campaign.

Jorg’ath can repeat his save and succeeds - he is no longer paralysed.

Skabb was going to do a Heal, but is reminded that Augie is there. She bites the bad ghoul with her Grill of Aberration Bane - 13, Hero Point, 25, Howdy Doodis! “I bite a hole in it and slurp all the juice out. Like one of them yogurt tubes.”

“I blame Augie for this,” the DM says. “You’ve taken an already bad goblin and made it worse.”

“Would you mind if I let you die?” Skabb asks Jorg’ath, and Hartvig interjects to tell her that he will heal him in a minute. Skabb rolls up her sleeves and casts a 2 action Heal on Boss Bitch. She makes the save. “That’s alright, if I get close to her I’m gonna bite that tongue out of her head.” Sprocket’s homunculus wants to start at the feet and work his way up, so maybe they’ll meet in the middle.

Augie does some bites and the first two hit! 27 damage total, yeah. Augie Augie Augie!

Sprocketses! Augustus repositions so that the last cultist is flanked with Nadia, and Sprocket re-casts Boost Eidolon. Augustus Fist Slams the cultist by slamming him into the floor. Homunculus will squeak past the meat statue and - “Oh he can fly! Fuck me!” But he wants to eat Boss Bitch from the feet up, not the head down. Would Skabb be happy to swap places with it, and start from the feet instead? Yes, and it’s very polite of him to ask, she says. The homunculus bites Bitch Tits and hits with a 26. “He’s et a lump out of her head.”

Hartvig is up. “Yessssss!” The DM invites him to cast Heal on Augie, but he declines and casts it on Jorg’ath instead. 22 HP back for Jorg’ath, who will take it, thank you.

The cultist is up, and will start by biting Nadia, and forcing saves which she makes. So it bites her again, and crits. Nadia has a little sleep, and does another Fortitude save, 14. It may have done something else to her, but the DM declines to tell me what it is. Skabb, outraged: “It’s her birthday, you monster!” Pitiless DM is unmoved.

Jorg’ath leaps at the cultist and misses, Hero Points, and hits. Did being paralysed interrupt his Rage…? There is some discussion, but it is decided that no, it doesn’t. Howdy Doodis! “Violently.”

Jorg’ath has an action left, so he slams a potion for 5 more HP back.

Nadia uses her Hero Points to come back to 1HP.

Luna is up. “Is it just this bitch next?” Skabb suggests surrounding her and ripping her limbs off. 26 is a hit, and Luna gets sneak attack as well. 18 is a miss, and so is the 10.

Bitch Tits rips a piece off the meat statue behind her, and uses it to regain some HP. Then she bites the homunculus - “You keep your hands off Gavin!” Sprocket shouts, but 33 is almost definitely a crit. 44 damage. DM, very pleased: “Bye Gavin!” Sprocket and Augustus both fall to their knees and cry, “Nooooo!” A single tear falls from Skabb’s eye; that’s another potential friend gone.

We will join the cult of the Canker either way, Bitch Tits tells us. Dead or alive.

(The next time Sprocket summons something, will it be Gavin again, or…? Jorg’ath wants to know. “Well, I tried to summon a cutlery swarm, so… I have no idea,” Sprocket tells him.)

Skabb casts Sudden Bolt, forcing a Reflex save - BT rolls a 29, which is a crit success. “Slingshot,” says Skabb dully. That was her second level spell slot. 21 hits for 2 damage. “In the eyeball, please.” Her third attack misses.

Augie! (If she kills Augie too, Skabb might drown herself in the lake.) Augie bites BT for a bunch more damage.

Sprocket is next and though he has no tear ducts, some moisture has collected on his cheeks. He does some measuring. “Goddamn you,” he mutters. “Right. Well.” He casts Draw Ire, forcing a Will save. She makes it with 1 to spare, but still takes half damage and the penalty! Augustus goes and stands next to her, menacingly.

Hartvig Heals Nadia for 24 HP so she’s at 25, and very grateful. He does a Religion check - green 25! “I know everything. I probably know where she lives.” She is immune to a shitload of stuff, Negative damage heals her, and her weakest save is Will. Also, she’s out of her high level spell slots…

Jorg’ath gives her the great axe, 28 damage plus stuff and howdy doodis! Much cheering. He slices layers off her so she gets shorter and shorter and shorter. Augie looks disappointed as there’s nothing left for him to eat. Jorg’ath saves him a couple of slices, and serves them up on the blade of his battle axe like he’s at a sushi restaurant.

Level up, level up, level up!

Would it be worth our while to destroy the statue? Augie is the only one who makes the secret roll, making the DM hate him even more. He points to something and we all make Religion checks. Skabb crits with a 21 - she is familiar with nefarious bitches of all sorts. This might have been some sort of avatar. Nagini could have been making this as a vessel to contain the spirit of Velcro.

Luna suggests we burn it, and we all agree. We pull Augie out of the way and Hartvig sets the thing on fire. Hartvig is still bleeding so he tries a Medicine check but beefs it and bleeds a bit more for a while. Nadia is also bleeding, she is surprised to be reminded, so Skabb slaps some… something… in the wound. (There may be a slug in there. Nadia is not going to look.)

Hartvig opens another door and finds a small room. Sounds like somewhere we might find a contract...? Perception checks from Hartvig and Augustus. Jorg’ath has a look around for contract-shaped things.

Someone finds something to do with the teleportation circles, which includes the ritual to open them. There is also a text called the Whispering Reeds. If we spend eight hours of study, we can learn much about the dungeon where we are. Could be helpful moving on.

Sprocket wants the book about the portals, and Nadia will study the book about the dungeon. No sign of a contract, though. Jorg’ath wants to shake the Boss Bitch down and see if she had any trayyyysure. Nothing? Gold? A ring? Cooking pot? A cheese wheel? Not a bean, it turns out. Corpse-scented robes, we are offered. Skabb prises a skull out of somewhere and brings it to Nadia to add to her frog hat. Once she’s finished her book, obviously.

Skabb runs over to Sprocket and cuddles him; they grieve together over Gavin.

#dnd #pathfinder #abomination vaults #abomination vaults spoilers

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