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a-butterfly1 · 1 year

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==✦NINJAGO AU MASTERPOST✦==

This is an AU I've been working on, I will actually work on it on writting ( on AO3 ) instead of making a comic/manga because I tend to procastinate when it comes to drawing panels ( if you have been keeping up with other pojects of mine you would know this), hopefully I will keep this updated.

==❤︎CHARACTER INFORMATION❤︎==

Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon

Age- 1000+ (immortal) Height: 5'8 (1,73m)

Lloyd has lived many years, of course, now he's immortal, he doesn't have much of a choice but to continue living on. He was many things throughout his life: a bratty child, a son, a master, a hero and now he's nothing more than a myth, while still a part of ninjago history many actually question if he ever really existed or not. He ostracized himself from society for a reason, after all,- it's painfull to make relationships when they are so short lived. He is considered a god by many, but he denies that being the case, maybe the embodiment of the balance between good and evil but he wont try to call himself anything more. Lloyd now lives with the spirits of his family with the occasional visits from Morro and Garmadon, his father.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Jay Walker

Age- 1000+ (spirit) Died at 115 Height: 5'10 (1,78m) Status: Nya's husband

He was a man of the spotlight, he shined brithly- TV shows, TheyTube channels, he was knowed worldwide. Not that he minds the retirement, he lived his life; he had two beautiful twins with the love of his life, Nya. He died happy, even if he was the last one to die, 3 years after Nya had passed. His last years were spent with Lloyd. In his many years in the Ninja team, he's come to realise he doesn't exactly have the same type of strengh like the others so he created a different weapon one that creates iron alloy strings, that resemble spider webs. He also practiced racing with his wife in his free time and created all kinds of machines and weapons which ranged from house equipment to ninja tech, like mechs, weapons and transport.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Kai Smith

Age- 1000+ (spirit) Died at 95 Height: 6'2 (1,88m) Status: Skylor's husband and Nya's bio brother

Kai was a little bit of an influencer in his younger years, but as the years went by he settled more into being a family man with his wife Skylor and his little girl. How did he become a spirit? Well it was his idea; well his plan was to become immortal like Lloyd but he was intersected by Morro, so he opted for the second best option: giving his powers to Lloyd, so even if he was dead he would be with Lloyd through his power; what wasn't part of the plan was he actually becoming part of Lloyd as a spirit, not that he is complaining, he got what he wanted in the end; and since he was the one that piched the idea to the ninja, he just involved them all into the mad plan- one that Lloyd was unaware of. He trully is a mad man, no one, and I mean, no ONE, puts themselves between him and his family, the last person who did so, is no longer amoung us, the last thing they saw was Kai becoming a demonic ball of flames.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Nya Smith Walker

Age- 1000+ (spirit) Died at 112 Height: 6'0 (1,83m) Status: Jay's wife and Kai's bio sister

Nya, famous racer, only had to step down from the hobbie/carrer when she got into a small accident, while she wasn't gravelly wounded that was enough for her to be proibited from competitive racing. From that day on she still raced but became more of an idol than a racer per say. She ended up working on engineer projects, solo or with Jay, mostly out of boredom. Now, since she is dead, she has more free time than ever, and uses it to learn and explore every digital corner of the internet, catching a few criminals in the way. Many say she is mystical and her strengh is as crushing as the waves in a storm can be, yet calm and relaxing as the days in the beach, others, like the Ninja themselves just see her as they're beloved sister.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Cole Brookestone

Age- 1000+ (spirit) Died at 87 Height: 6'8 (2,03m) Status: Vania's husband

Cole, King of the Kingdom of Shintaro, Husband of Queen Vania, father of the prince of Shintaro, and our beloved cake lover, sadlly passed away early, well earlier than his siblings at least, the unknowed illness that had taken the life of his mother had decided to claim another. Cole fell gravelly ill, bedridden in his late stages of life. Bedridden in the castle, he invited Lloyd over for most possibly a final goodbye, although he didn't think that Lloyd would stay around the whole time it wasn't completly unexpected, right there he was the first one to execute Kai's plan, and the first to discover the side effects of the plan; from then on he was part of Lloyd and made sure to let the others know of the end result.

==꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶꒦꒦︶︶꒷꒦==

Zane Julien

Age- 1000+ (nindroid) Height: 7'0 (2,13m) Status: P.I.X.A.L's husband

Caretaker of the rest of the Ninja team and their children, especially since those little kids sure liked uncle Lloyd a whole lot and would visit constently. He stayed with Lloyd in the monastery alongside P.I.X.A.L and Morro (who visits soo much he pretty much lives there, has a room and everything). Him and Lloyd share house chores, and Zane is in charge of looking at news around ninjago, to ensure it's safety, as well as helping in some researches since Lloyd is only one person and can only intake soo much information at a time. He is the only one that hasn't partaken in Kai's plan, since there is literally no reason to, Zane obviously doesn't die of old age, one may claim that he could possible get rusty and need repairs at some point but Lloyd and P.I.X.A.L are always around is any issue is to come.

==✿ADDITIONAL INFORMATION✿==

The Ninja team, many years after most of the team's death, has move the location of the monestary far away from the main ninjago island, and instead now lives in a far away island that Lloyd created west of Ninjago city, around the middle of Ninjago and the dark island (thats has been sealed away by Lloyd). The reason for that change is because of something rather strange, it's not just to ensure Lloyd's ever soo wished isolation but also because a merchant had attented to buy the place, with the intention of turning the monestary into a tourist attraction. Lloyd got a bit peeved and decided to pick up the mountain where the monestary was on top of and relocated it;

The only reason the Jay was living with Lloyd in his last moments, was because he genuenly belived he would miss the mark to execute Kai's plan, because he belives himself to be quite clumsy and distracted; either way he didn't miss it and now is with the rest of the team (which is a way to say that he can now torment the Ninja forever);

Lloyd has a cute nickname for all the Ninja's kids, and spoiled them to no end (he is the fun uncle who takes everyone to Disneyland), he calls Kai's daugther "munchkadee", Jay and Nya's twins has "Starlight" and "Moonlight" for the girl and boy respectively, and Cole's son is "Duckling";

the age diference of the Ninja are, from youngest to oldest: Lloyd - Nya - Jay - Kai - Cole - Zane ( to say, with maybe the idea of the 1 season, Lloyd (8->15) - Nya (15) - Jay (16) - Kai (17) - Cole (18) - Zane (30-40? he is old);

(conceivable for change) As of right now, Lloyd's power is one that could rival gods, the source of said power is something OP is still considering but the possible main reason might be related to "source dragons", has to why the other Ninja's had powers even after having kids is related to Lloyd giving them an artifact that has their specific element embodied into them (the artifacts are not phisical and can only be visualised when the Ninja have already passed, the artifact will most likely have the form of a card); (the reason of this possible change is the development of the plot of "Dragons Rising").

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yandere-wishes · 1 year

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The Spider’s Web

Summary: You are a hero, you feel it within your bones. Calamity may strike and villains may rise. But you are still a hero, it's time to start acting like one.

Continuations of Imposter Syndrome and Perfect Girl. But can be read as a stand-alone

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence, angst, just the worst Spanish you've ever heard. SFW but Miles and the reader are 18+

Author's note: Last part of the Prowler Miles x Hero reader trilogy. Reblogs and comments are appreciated.

There's a weight in your hand, familiar and awkward, worn yellow plastic stuck to rusted metal. You count the rotations it takes for one bolt to tighten, twist, twist, and repeat. You cradle the metallic gadget with such fragile care, lips tracing silent prayers across the cold alloy. This shall be your salvation once it's complete. Another key to unbinding these appalling shackles.

It's been months since the Prowler took you away. Locked you within his new hideout and threw away the key. He claims he loves you as he leaves sugar-tainted kisses upon your neck. Whispers that he's the only one who can keep you safe as he nibbles the shell of your ear. His claws have become a constant force upon your hips, his presence a burden, invariant and throttling. He's stripped you of your mantle as a hero, reduced you to a limbless, formless creature that merely exists within the dark of his room. Una muñeca, he calls you as he extinguishes the air from your lungs with a life-sucking kiss.

But you're not a doll, nor a puppet, nor a toy. You're supposed to be a paladin, a saviour, the one who was going to alleviate this city of evil once and for all. But you're not a superhero, not now, not anymore. The thought is enough to make you sick.

Your own reflection causes you the most pain. The glass paints a stranger with hollow eyes and a decaying soul. Defeated and broken. You've taken to smashing mirrors as a way to exercise your demons. Miles has stated his vexation over this and warned you not to invoke his anger again. It's hard to explain that his anger makes you feel human. The way his eyes narrow and his lips merge into displeasure is the only thing keeping you alive right now. You hate him, but he's practically forgotten that.

Your ears perk up as footsteps tread outside the room. You quickly rush to hide your new gauntlet under the bed, rolling to the deepest corners where the dust bunnies and boogeyman roam. You perch yourself on the bed, stretch to grab a framed family photo from one of the shelves, and focus your eyes. Keep busy, it's the best way to avert his suspicions.

There's a light creek before Miles steps in. Footsteps heavy as if the ground's going to give way under him. He looks exhausted, practically dead. You wonder what he's been up to all day. You turn your head to face your nemesis, your jailer, your lover.

"Mi Vida" he mutters as he falls back on the bed, he turns wrapping his arms around your waist. "That slimy alien insisted I do some physical training today. It's exhausting. Says I need to be in shape for the big operation". You stiffen, ever since the sinister six had you out of their way, they'd been content with ruling the city with an iron fist. Nothing major, nothing extreme. But something is going down, something bad. Desperation throbs within your heart, you need to escape.

Miles pulls you down until you're lying next to him. Gently prys the photo from your hands and looks it over. There's an endless moment that reverberates between you two. "I miss him sometimes'' he confesses, his eyes locked on his father's face. He looks like a child hopeless and lost. Desperate in all the ways you've never been. He pulls you closer and buries his head in the crock of your neck. It almost feels like love. If love was a thousand leeches that stick to every crevice of your body. Slowly infiltrating the heart. Slowly sucking away your life.

Miles is a storm, a typhoon, a calamity. All hurling winds and bellowing thunder. A hurricane that shakes the world to its core. You've gotten so used to thinking of him as anything but human that you forgot he's just a boy. A boy with a heartbeat and a thousand painful memories all locked behind golden eyes.

You remember when he used to tell you stories. Back when the safest place for a hero and a villain was the midnight sanctuary of a rooftop.

Stories of his childhood back when his father was still alive. Back when he was seven or maybe eight naive enough to believe his father's empty preaches about justice and righteousness. Mind too preoccupied with the new Rover red hot wheel his father had brought home after his shift. He'd been happy once, a long, long time ago.

Back then you used to think about him, in the spare moments between explosions and your blood pounding through your ears. You used to think about what kind of boy Miles would have been if his father had still been around. How sweet his smile could have been, how precious his soul would have been. Even after he kidnapped you and put you through horrors untold, you still think about the boy he could have been. Dare to imagine who he could have been. You wonder if his touch could have been endearing, could have made you feel safe. Half addicting and half comforting. It's laughable really, you never thought it possible to miss someone you've never met. Yet it unlocks a special kind of sadness within your heart. Maybe in some other lifetime, the two of you could have been real lovers.

"We're planning to expand outside of New York, take over everything else," Miles says as his eyes grow heavier. He's tired, you think, that's good, that very very good. "There's no one left to get in our way." There's a dreadful banging in the back of your head. A screaming voice begging you to escape, to run away, to do SOMETHING, anything. There's a fatigue that has encompassed Miles, engulfed him whole. He's dead to the world in minutes. Whilst you are tortured by your consciousness. Your gadgets aren't ready. They're made from scrap bits you found around the hideout. Half assembled and never tested. Yet Miles is asleep, exhausted and unconscious. It's the perfect chance to run to return to your old life.

Take a leap of faith, what's the worst that can happen...

You spare one last glance at Miles. Close your eyes and take in a shaky breath. A leap of faith you repeat within your head. You roll out of the bed and rummage under it to find your hidden gems. They're not perfect, not finished, but hopefully, they'll work. Your gauntlets are the most important part, they should theoretically be strong enough to break the seals on the window. From there you can use what little web filler alternative you were able to make to swing away from this dreadful place. Run and hide, New York is huge he shouldn't be able to find you.

You rush for the window, pry the bolts loose, pull and pull until your muscles begin to collapse. The window creaks open and it sounds like freedom and hope all entwined with a fleece of dread. You step out onto the ledge. A hunting summer breeze ghosts across your face, as sirens scream in the background. A million lights bathe the city in a welcoming glow. You take a breath, turn around and fall. Diving into a concrete ocean, a place where you can finally feel alive.

The rebirth of a hero has begun...

What is a hero in a land of villains? A shining star or a decaying light. To them, you are a monster, ripped from your mother's womb with a craving for blood and justice. To Miles, you used to be a beast, chained and tamed. He forgot that you were a numen. That you were something he had to fear.

There's a divinity hidden inside each hero. Bones made of golden marrow that births sacred cells. A hero's blood is holy Ichor running through their veins. Ripping them apart from the inside and reassembling them as modern martyrs who shall die amongst the neon lights.

How can you expect anything less from yourself? How can you be anything other than hallowed? You refuse to be anything other than sacred, trimmed in gold, and born of desert diamonds.

Your eyes are focused on the last warehouse, Vulture, and Dr.Octopus are overviewing the newest cargo shipment. They're the last of the sinister six to die. The final lines to add to your tally. Then you can focus on the prowler.

After you escaped it took many days to find a safe place to hideout. You spend every second rummaging through the streets in search of new parts to use. You need a functional suit, one that could at the very least get you in and out of the Sinister Six's stock houses without detection. Then you could focus on stealing upgrades. You needed the strength, the extra power. There's a festering hunger pounding in your cranium. Desperate to get out. It screams the ballads of a vengeful melody. The need for retribution has become a cruel addiction, one that has driven you further than you ever dreamed possible.

You stare out at the warehouse from your perch upon a skyscraper.

Count the seconds before the bomb detonates. On the count of three, a shiver goes up your spine. An acquainted terror, he's found, you feel his digital case price you from inside the shadows. Phantom pains resurface as old bruises begin to bloom. You earned your freedom to the symphony of breaking bones and tearing flesh. To the desperate tugs of your heartstrings as if it were a harp. There is no way you'll permit him to take it from you again.

"Long time no see mami" His voice is gruff, hidden behind the layers of his mask. A small part of you used to miss this. Missed the Prowler you had fought almost daily. Missed the punching and kicking and the desperate need to kill or kiss one another. "Hello Miles" you spit his name like poison behind your teeth. Somewhere in the distance the bomb detonates, vermillion and smoke fill the air and you feel your heart skip in jovial delight.

You twirl across the edge of the building, hands stuck out on either side. You look like a bird, like a ballerina. Like a friendly neighborhood Spidergirl. "What, you want us to beat each other up? For old time's sake."

Mile's mask slips away and he looks at you with eyes too dead for his young age. "You left me!" he screams, with a voice sheathed in pain, in anger, in broken dreams that had shattered far too quickly.

You wonder if the mask has cut off the oxygen going into his brain. "Of course, I left you!" You scream, "You turned me into a metaphysical, gutless monster, you stripped me of every heroic deed I had embedded into your heart. You robbed me of my faith, my morals, my soul. Did you ever think I could love you after all that..."

"You're talking crazy little bug, I was protecting you"

"From what! From the villains, I could have destroyed!"

There's rage leaking out of every aperture of his body. Anger within his lungs, pounding and prudent destructive at best. He rushes towards you, with every intent to kill to maim. He tackles you over the edge. You wonder if he has a death wish. You wonder if he's in love.

You're falling into a sea of dying stars. Miles's arms wrap tightly against your waist. The ground seems infinitely far and yet ever so close.

You wonder if Miles fears death or if he welcomes it. It wouldn't matter either way. For the first time in longer than you care to remember you feel so alive, dead tissue gives way to the howling wind in your ears. There's no end in sight. If you die, at least you'll die in each other's arms. Raindrops race past you splattering across the pavement, in a final moment of yearning, you sling your web against a low rise hoping it'll soften the fall.

You wake up to the wet street. Miles's body sprawled out next to you. Inching closer you feel his pulse throb under your fingertips, a caged beast vying for its freedom. Desperate, desperate, desperate, exactly how he makes you feel. His eyes peel open, stardust and nectar falling from them. He's beautiful you think, he's deadly you recall. "and here I thought we had something special mami" he mumbles as his eyes begin to close. He'll live, you're sure of it. You just have to muster enough energy to drag him back to your lair. Tie him up for good measure, give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe now with the Sinister Six gone and the city finally at peace. Maybe now with every bad influence scrubbed clean from his life. Miles can finally become a real boy. Maybe you two can finally become real lovers.

There's a light that dances in front of your eyes. Rogue fire and magic all wrapped in one. A man steps out of it or maybe a seraphim. It's really hard to tell with the throbbing at the back of your head. He introduces himself. He looks just like you, spiders etched into his skin and pain pooling inside his eyes. You wonder if he's been through the same horrors as you.

But Miguel is older, a crooked thing. All fangs and blood and claws. You peel yourself from the ground and wobble over to him. Collapsing in his arms. Tears fall from your eyes matching the tears of the heavens.

"It's over little one, the pain is finally over" You know he's lying. Yet it soothes you. You know your new life as the protector of New York has just begun.

You are Spidergirl now and your life has just turned into a Sisyphean labor

Sorry it's not as good as the other two, I was having a hard week lol

taglist: @nkmblackhyuuga @itsnotino @huicitawrites @bennybenten @scarleste @the-rouge-robin @murderofravens

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eldritch-spouse · 3 months

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Shags get obsessed with a girl that works at an art store where he gets his supplies. She's laid back and chit-chats with him about any projects he's working on.

[Okay but what if you had a really strange thing going on?]

You like this little freak.

Yeah, okay, that's a bit of a mean thing to say. But can you be blamed? There's no word that fits him more aptly than freak. Not even in the physical sense, there's a lot of variety in mushroom monsters, you know some of them can be tall and gangly like Shags. He's just bizarre.

The way he speaks, moves, conducts himself. You swear, not a single mannerism this monster makes feels natural or reflexive. Even the way he seems to intensely wait and make himself an obstacle until you initiate conversation with him... God, even the fucking topics of conversation, it's like he makes an effort to speak in riddles.

In this rather boring dead-end of a job, seeing this weirdo bend and squeeze through the doors like Samara about to crawl out of the TV is the highlight of your shift.

That's why he's your favorite client.

He's been standing still in the same supplies isle for too long, you already know what he wants.

" Having trouble finding something, Mr Shags? "

As if, he probably knows this store better than yourself.

In fact, he outright told you he used to be a client before you started working here.

He murmurs a response too quietly to interpret, forcing you to come closer. And, predictably, as soon as you are within grabbing distance (not hard to achieve when you're a lamppost of a monster featuring branch-like arms), a spider hand slithers onto your shoulder. It's cold, he's always a little cold.

You're urged in front of a shelf, his head looming over yours.

" Ahh, I need your honest opinion on something... If you don't mind? "

This is the paints section, a mural of hues that hurt the eyes.

" Sure. "

" What shade of orange do you think I should get? "

You love these questions. Because never once does he elaborate on what he's creating or why he wants you to choose. It's happened many times before. What size of canvas should I get? What pen should I get? What sketch books should I get?

You like the strange autonomy of getting to pick, offering him the same level of context he does to you.

Absolutely none.

" Alloy. " You point.

Shags reaches towards it with little effort, snagging several little containers with his root-like digits. The hand on your shoulders tightens.

" What a choice. Thank you very much, my dear. "

" No problem. "

It takes a bit of shifting before the hand on your skin is lifted.

You stroll back to the cash register with a small smile and occasionally observe the monster in the same way you'd study an animal at the zoo.

It's strange how little he moves sometimes. Initially, you thought it was just so he wouldn't drip ink everywhere, but it seems to be a part of him now. Blending in with all his other vaguely creepy mannerisms. Mr Shags gets all his items at a snail's torturous pace and finally, finally approaches you.

" How are the latest projects going, Mr Shags? " You start while scanning the paints first.

The shroom actually seems to frown for a second. Fingers busy on the balcony. " Not as smoothly as I wished... "

Tap tap tap.

" My latest muse and I, our chemistry, I'm afraid it has no substance. "

" Oh? " Your eyes deviate to his face for a moment.

" Yes... Something tells me it's time to move on. But I do want to honor our time together with one last, preserving piece. "

Tap tap tap.

" Mhm. Sounds good, I hope the next one works out. " Frankly, you're not sure what he's talking about, but you usually never are to begin with.

" Me too. " Then he smiles again, and you get the distinct feeling his stare has turned into a more scrutinizing one.

Far from the first time, it doesn't scare you like it did initially.

It's pretty funny, actually. You started out thinking this guy was some kind of loser looking to harass you, to intentionally make you uncomfortable. Nowadays he's more of an entertaining almost-friend.

Tap tap tap.

" Will that be all, Mr Shags? "

" Shags. "

He's told you to call him just by his name a couple of times. You always ignore it, but he keeps trying anyway.

There's a silent beat.

During your first years of work, the lack of action would have made you antsy enough to break the silence, which is what you know he wants you to do. But now, you have no trouble staring back placidly until he continues the conversation.

Apparently, the shroom enjoys that continuous challenge, because his grin widens slowly.

" You have a peculiar facial definition. " He eventually rasps.

A nothing statement, not quite a compliment, not quite an insult, definitely said to confuse and prompt a question. One you don't give him the satisfaction of hearing.

" Thanks. " The customer service smile has an edge of playful smarm this time.

Tap tap tap.

" ... I would enjoy sketching you sometime. Your facial expressions are intriguing. "

This is essentially his way of asking you out, you presume.

" You've drawn me before. "

He's even given you the pages, pencil depictions of you caught in a selection of moments. Mostly bored to tears and staring at the little universe between the cracks in aged walls.

Shags tuts. " It's quite different when the muse in question is part of the experience. I much prefer it that way. "

You can't help the hint of a snicker that tugs at the corners of your lips as you bag his items to hurry things along. Not that there's anyone else inside right now.

" Mm. And what if we don't have good chemistry? "

The shroom monster hands you his card, not even caring about hearing the total.

" I think we both know that wouldn't be the case. "

Tap tap tap.

It's only a few moments of intentionally creating suspense until you hand him all his new belongings and card.

" See you soon, Mr Shags. "

His grin only twitches for a delightful glimpse of a second before he carefully takes his possessions and leaves.

Playing with fire is fun.

One day, you'll get burned.

#Shags oc #tce rp ask

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sotwk · 23 days

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Apart from being the Crown Prince of the Woodland Realm, Mirion Thranduilion is best remembered in his realm’s history for two things: his ferocity and devotedness as Protector of the Realm, and his skill as a master bladesmith.

With talent unmatched by any other Elven weaponsmith remaining in the Third Age, Mirion designed and personally crafted armor and weaponry for the soldiers of the Woodland Realm. His first-hand practical knowledge of armed combat (aided further by the battle expertise of his father) gave him an elevated understanding of how to design weapons that were both functional and efficient while still being beautiful works of art.

Although Thranduil’s sword is the most recognizable weapon in the history of the Woodland Realm, Mirion’s personal sword would be judged the strongest blade. Both were designed and made by the Crown Prince, and although they were forged from the same rare material, they were two very different swords crafted for different purposes and fighting styles.

On one hand, Thranduil’s sword is lighter, more beautiful and elegant, and made for speed and single-handed wielding.

On the other hand, here are SotWK AU headcanons regarding…

Gwaedhang: the greatsword of the Crown Prince of the Woodland Realm

Mirion’s sword was named Gwaedhang, Sindarin for “Iron Oath”.

It is 78 inches (198 cm) long--just 2 inches shorter than Legolas!

It weighs 10 pounds (4.5 kg), which is extremely heavy for a combat blade.

In contrast to all the other weapons he made, Mirion kept the design of Gwaedhang’s blade simple, bearing only an inscription--his personal oath to his people, written in Silvan: “Until my last breath, I will serve.”

Gwaedhang’s black-blue steel blade was made from a very rare ore sourced from the deepest mines of Khazad-dûm a thousand years before its fall.

It was forged in Khazad-dûm by Mirion in TA 1035, in collaboration with the best dwarf-smiths and King Durin V himself.

The greatsword took nearly five years to complete.

It draws its power from the union of Elven and Dwarven knowledge, the strength of the unique black alloy developed from the rare ore, and Mirion’s Noldorin “magic”--supernatural crafting abilities that he was born with, and that grew under the guidance of his mother.

Gwaedhang is sharp and strong enough to slash through virtually any substance without being damaged or losing its edge. Although never tested, it is also believed able to withstand the most extreme heat, including dragonfire. It is considered indestructible.

Gwaedhang is so large, heavy and dangerous, only three people ever wielded it in combat: Mirion, Thranduil, and Turhir. Mirion alone had both the strength and sufficient practice to use it single-handed on the battlefield. (And yes, the fact that the sword is named “Oath” also symbolizes the weight of the oath of duty Mirion took upon his shoulders.)

When Mirion fought with Gwaedhang, he was known to effortlessly cleave in half grown spiders and monsters with one stroke, and behead a line of orcs in a single swing.

Upon Mirion’s death, the sword became a treasured heirloom of the realm. It is displayed publicly as part of a memorial statue honoring the late prince, and the Elves of the realm continue to come there to pay their respects.

Want to learn more about Mirion? Mirion Headcanon Masterlist

@creativity-of-death I'm sure you don't remember anymore, (and I can't blame you!) but this post was written as a LONG-delayed response to your Ask in my Headcanon Ask Game. A Lannister SotWK always pays their debts, and I'm trying to prove that! ;)

OTHER USEFUL LINKS:

Introduction to SotWK

Main Headcanon Masterlist

#sotwk headcanon #sotwk oc #mirion thranduilion #thranduil #thranduil oropherion #thranduil headcanon #the hobbit #silvan elves #mirkwood elves #lotr #lotr headcanons #tolkien #tolkien headcanons #middle earth #eryn galen #greenwood the great #mirkwood

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irondadmadlads · 2 years

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Irondad Prompt #97:

Tony: Your superhero name isn’t accurate

Peter: What?

Tony: Spider makes sense, because of your DNA. But man is misleading. You’re not a man.

Peter:

Tony: You’re baby.

Peter:

Peter: Okay gold-titanium alloy man

#iron man #irondad and spiderson #irondad and spiderson prompts #irondad prompts #spider man #spiderson prompts #iron dad #irondad #peter parker #spiderson #mcu tony stark #mcu peter parker #marvel mcu #marvel #mcu #peter parker and tony stark #tony stark

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tatters-the-bat · 6 months

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Spider gal~

(OC: Alloy (She/They))

#my art #oc art #digital art #oc: alloy #furry #spider furry #anthro #anthro spider #furry art #sfw furry

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carsthatnevermadeitetc · 2 years

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Boxing Day Boxers: Part 5 – Lancia Gamma Spider, 1978. Lancia's pushrod flat-4 alloy engine had been around since 1960 and was re-engineered with overhead cams in 2.0 and 2.5 litre forms for the Gamma in 1976. The boxer-engined Gamma Coupé was designed by Pininfarina who followed it with a T-roof version that had a removable rear window. The Spider did not advance beyond prototype stage but it was used the early 1980s by Pope John Paul II when he toured North Italy

#Lancia #Lancia Gamma #Lancia Gamma Spider #boxer engine #flat 4 #1978 #Pininfarina #concept #prototype #design study #T-roof #open roof #John Paul II #Pope John Paul II #Boxing Day

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diabolus1exmachina · 1 year

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Abarth 750 Allemano Aluminum Spider

Serafino Allemano founded his Carrozzeria in 1928, starting as a repairer for other brands, especially Italian ones. A few years later he decided to create his own designs, he designed and manufactured some exclusive series for Maserati, Alfa Romeo, Lancia until 1965. The 750 Allemano Spider was commissioned by Abarth because some racing drivers preferred open cars, in addition to the fact that the American market was crazy about roadsters. It is based on the Fiat 600 structure with an aluminum spider body and Plexiglass windscreen, equipped with Campagnolo alloy wheels. The Abarth four-cylinder engine of 747 cc increased to 44 horsepower at 5800 rpm allows to exceed 150 km/h coupled with a 4-speed synchronized gearbox. The Spider Allemano was very popular in competition around the world for its light weight of 550kg. This Fiat Abarth 750 Allemano Spider, chassis number 476565 and engine number 667974 had been prepared for American races in the 60's.

#Abarth 750 #Serafino Allemano #Spider #Maserati #Alfa Romeo #Lancia #Fiat 600

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eywaite · 2 days

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Craftsman

Character: Spider

Color Representation: Orange ~ Creativity

Words: 567

Warnings: Fluff, a little angst, Spider being left out.

Credits: Credit to @plum98 for the divider.

Notes: Big thanks to @xylianasblog for creating this event!

The fiery orange of the little Toruk toy in Spider's hand highlights all the dirt smears and grime covering his small fingers. Dark amber and black beads barely holding together the wing of his best friend's favorite toy.

Of course Spider's always wanted to play with the small toy that looked so big in his toddler hands, but he was never allowed, Neytiri would never allow it. So this is the closest Spider will ever get to having this toy to himself for a few hours. A revealing of the hints of gamboge under the thick layer of pumpkin finally being shown to Spider's young eyes as he holds the broken wing up into the vibrate sunset illuminating the night before eclipse.

Spider had tried whittling out his own Toruk figurine, but the wings were oddly matched, the neck was crooked, and the paint was messy and more marigold than orange. It was the best he had. The only thing he had. But Spider couldn't allow for this beautiful toy to remain broken forever; his friends deserved a whole toy.

Spider nearly cried when he heard the loud crack of the ocher wing breaking off it's body from the constant strain Lo'ak and Kirk were putting the toy under from their harsh tugging. And Spider did shed a tear when he saw the tears building in his friend's bright amber eyes when they realized they broke their toy. The mighty rider of the Great Leonopteryx took the figurine and put the persian orange toy on a high shelf with a long speech about consequences.

It took Spider an hour to find something sturdy enough to climb on, and another hour to get over the panic coursing through his little body at stealing the damaged relic. He gathered and crushed the cadmium colored fruit for it's rust tainted juice, soaking the string in the fruit juice like it was dye as he stitches the mahogany beads the best he could with the thin strands of blonde hair and a blunt and slightly bent needle.

The golden locs of hair is pleasing to Spider's eyes when he looks at his mending, taking the now dry sinopia strand of rope and carefully beginning to weave it around the body of Toruk, wrapping it around the wing to pull it back into the jagged edges where it broke off into a decent splint. The persimmon of Toruk's body melts well with the jasper of the string.

The pastel orange of the eclipse is gone by the time Spider sneaks his way back to his friend's home, newly mended toy hidden behind the bulk of Spider's exopack hanging off his alloy loincloth. His small form weaves around the gigantic home, clambering up the rickety limb invading through the open side of the home that's so conveniently placed right next to the shelf housing the first of many of Spider's intricate creation.

Weeks went by without a word spoken about the toy, and no one still knows who or what fixed it's broken wing, but neither Lo'ak or Kiri were going to complain. Even now as Spider holds the toy that was once so big in his hands, his calloused fingers skilled from the many times he's fixed the problems others left to rot, and decorated in the many things he's crafted for himself, this little orange toy is still his favorite masterpiece

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓼: @tallulah477 @eyweveng @neteyamsoare @blue-slxt @sulieykte @puddle-nerd @softsnowydreamer @fadedpetal @xylianasblog @luvv4j4ybe11 @itchaboi-itchyboy

#colorofpandora #avatar #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #spider #avatar spider #spider avatar #spider socorro #spider miles socorro #avatar angst #avatar fluff #𝓣𝓲𝓻𝓮𝔂𝓼 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼

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lailoken · 1 year

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Ars Metallorum:

On the Sorcerous Faculties of Metals

Within the scheme of the occultic arts, Crystals are, and have long been, a central focus of materia magica. While there is a legitimate historical precedent behind the magical associations that many Crystals bear, these traditional associations have become willfully misconstrued and commercially co-opted over time, resulting in the New Age crystal racket that many of us have come to know. As such, not only has the crystal industry become an ethical and environmental nightmare, but what slim crystal lore that we have maintained over time has become largely conflated with nebulous new-age quackery. And what's more, much of the other occultic wisdom regarding magical associations that we've accrued over generations has been supplanted and ignored. One realm of this wisdom, which I think is especially underrated by many groups, is that of metals and their sorcerous capacities.

While I realize there are certain esoteric traditions and paradigms that do speak on metal (such as correspondences in planetary magic, or folk-magic involving iron,) the things I share here are purely my own personal experiences regarding a selection of metals as utilized within the Wending Way, based on my years of experimentation and notes I combed over For the sake of conciseness and clarity, I eschew Alloys in these references and speak only on Elemental Metals.

Copper: A metal closely associated with the ancestors—being the first metal worked by human hands—and well suited to spectral evocation in general—likely connected with its high capcity for conduction. As such, Copper is a particularly good metal where works of Thanaturgy and Necromancy are involved.

Aluminum: A metal that can be used to strengthen and empower workings of mantic perception.

Zinc: A metal associated with the healing arts and best suited to workings of such a nature.

Titanium: A metal of great protective virtue, well suited to workings of magical defense.

Tin: A metal associated with Fortune, and best suited amongst the common metals for working with the Gloaming Folk.

Lead: A metal with virtues potently predisposed to malefic workings of Affliction.

Manganese: A metal possessing of excisive virtues, well suited to acts of banishing and expulsion.

Nickel: A metal well suited to workings of influence and persuasion.

Lithium: A metal best used in workings meant to promote balance and equilibrium.

Bismuth: A metal of illusory virtue, utilized best in Glamours and Heles, or similar rites of illusion/concealment.

Silver: A chthonic metal bearing sacred significance to the Bone Mother, in particular, and strongly associated with her offerings and rites.

Gold: A zoetic metal bearing sacred significance to the Wilding King, in particular, and strongly associated with his offerings and rites.

Mercury: A transmutative metal bearing sacred significance to the Draconic Angel, in particular, and strongly associated with their offerings and rites. While not a material to be used with any degree of frequency, it may be utilized in works of great transformation on desperate occasions.

Iron: A metal powerfully suited to the absorption, storage, and/or redirection of all magics in general, which may serve to anchor or empower a wide variety of workings, accordingly. While Iron in its smelted form may be considered profane to certain denizens of the of the Otherworld, its raw forms are sacred to the Spider and its Gloaming progeny. Meteoric iron, in particular, represents the holiest and most potent form of the metal.

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cipherexists · 1 year

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Documenting a few other details that ive found in the way back machine SPG dig

The Spine was originally created with a spinal column made up of smokestacks similar to a locomotive, thus he was appropriately named The Spine. In 1955, the US government invested millions of dollars into upgrading The Spine. Therein he received a brand new titanium alloy spine, and a multitude of highly classified weapons.

yeah, highly classified weapons?? what???

Eventually David entered high school. He was working towards his A+ Certification in computers and looking towards becoming an IT Technician. A sudden (but possibly long overdue) divorce between his parents turned David's life upside down during his Junior year. The divorce didn't go well between parents.

This is not included in Bunny's...despite them being twins... i love the 'sudden (but possibly long overdue) divorce'

David met Jerry Hager for the first time when he took his Beginning Acting class at the college. David knew of Jerry's "miming" down at Seaport Village and even visited his professor a few times while he was performing. It wasn't until his [Sister] [Bunny] took Jerry's mime class, and recommend that he take it with [her] again the following year, that David was introduced to the beauty of the art of mime and movement.

Yes you heard the man, The Jon, The Rabbit, The Spine and Upgrade only went through Three (3) mime classes before their first appearances in balboa park. And none more. (see; Steam Powered Giraffe started at the beginning of the second time David took Jerry's mime class.)

More P.A. Walter VI blog shinanigans

*List of images including but not limited to: Giraffes, toothles (HTTYD), fantasy games and GG <3*

wtf dude, 'Eggs of spider infancy within this meek little blog' ???

Back to the website...2014

Rabbit went on to fight against Becile's copper elephants in 1897, outfitted with a prototype blue matter laser lens array, a Gatling Gun attachment, and a collapsible buzz saw. Rabbit's combat history also spans WWI, WWII, and the Vietnam war.

btw they are still canonically fitted with these weapons, they just wont use them...

Hatchworth time >:)

After getting over that pesky omg-I'm-so-nervous-I'm-going-to-poop-out-all-my-guts feeling, he did ok in theater club. Soon there after, he decided anyone can play guitar, so he did

^^ Sam luke on performing <3

For a while after that, they drifted apart (which tends to happen to friends of Sam).

that is so sad, wth

Approximately junior year a tall, gangly fellow (by the name of David) joined the drama club and introduced himself as such. Sam spent many'a afternoon trying to discern the Bennett twins (one wears black and one wears dragons). The only way Sam chooses to explain the early days of "Hangin' With the Bennetts" is as follows:

"it was like being a supporting character on some weird sitcom within a sitcom."

Sam Luke on meeting the Bennet twins :')

Fast forward a bit and it turns out the Bennetts only got weirder with time. They were robots now and apparently they needed a drummer.

That sounds about right..

Somehow I also became a robot apparently.

Do we know how that happened...yes, will i explain that...not yet

When Peter Walter I began constructing an army of robots, he used whatever source of metal he could find. So it wasn't surprising when his own cast iron stove served as the base for a bronze-laden robot.

...that explains the insanity, i too would keep spaghetti in my pocket if i was made of a stove

upon examination Peter Walter II discovered a hairline fracture had been developing for years in the robot's power core. Hatchworth had been leaking a troublesome amount of concentrated blue matter energy[...]Mustache and all, the Walter boys locked Hatchworth in a lead vault deep within Walter Manor until they could find a solution. But months pouring over his original schematics proved fruitless for the boys and soon months turned into years...and then turned into decades.

Thats how hatchworth came about.... yeah no definitely would be insane at that point.

#steam powered giraffe #rabbit spg #spg the spine #spg hatchworth

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