#and the three of them got the brunt of the weapon's power.
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Hey knight I was just thinking about the evil teams in each generation and their goals. And how they all got taken down by the protagonist
But what do you think would happen to the people in each region if the evil team had succeeded? Like if one team had succeeded but the others lost
Either about the champions, the league, the main characters/protagonists, or the entire region. Up to you to decide. Although I do know 90% of the time it’s just gonna be “___ got murdered/died in this scenario” lol
Fr tho,, I do think of all the evil teams out there, the ones who'd most likely would've succeeded w their plans are Galactic, Plasma/Neo Plasma, and Flare (then again, of all the evil teams, these three take the top spots, like they were really that threatening and the fact that their leaders could somehow fool everyone into thinking that they're the ones in the right is just the cherry on top)
Cyrus legit got five fucking legendaries, two of which are the ones in charge of time and space, under his momentary control, and he almost did win yknow had Cynthia and Dawn/Lucas not came in to stop him
Do I even have to explain Ghetsis that man was ready to kill a child and if you've seen pkmn Generations the damage Neo Plasma caused was fucking insane man, like if that's what they could do w Unova imagine once they take over the other regions
And ofc Lysandre, all that shit w the Ultimate Weapon, and in the manga this man was even more fucking terrifying cause he also had eyes and ears everywhere, like Flare was honestly terrifying in the manga
Between these three tho,, I think Lysandre would've been successful. Cause for one, he was that fucking convincing that no one ever suspected him of anything remotely evil. Two, the region's Champion and Professor, who were both close to him, didn't do shit in the games to stop him, even when Sycamore implied he knew there was smth wrong w Lysandre and how Diantha was already questioning Lys' views of beauty. Three, if this mf was as cunning as he is in the anime and as threatening in the manga, my guy, he really would be that fucking terrifying. Four, if we go w the games' events and such, Lysandre was left for too long by anyone if Calem and the others didn't stop him.
Like, if you think abt it, without the protagonists, w Galactic at least Cynthia knows and tried to stop Cyrus. W Plasma, the Unova League actually did shit unlike the other Leagues and fought Plasma themselves. But w Flare, if we go w the games' events, no one would've fucking stopped Lysandre bc everyone looked up to him yknow, and it's also the added fact that one of Diantha's Elite Four, Malva, was a part of Flare, and she probs had control over the media too, making the people turn a blind eye of what's gonna happen or what's currently happening.
But yeah fr everyones gon fucking die probs lmao
#Idk I do wanna think that#if ever Lysandre wasn't stopped#the very last minute Diantha and Sycamore tried to finally stop him#thinking that he's their responsibility#as Kalos' Champion and as his closest friend#and the three of them got the brunt of the weapon's power.#yknow tbh i do have my gripes at the concept of these villains recreating the world#and ik thats my main motive for villain dia too but yknow#theres just smth abt it that might take more than one weapon or legendary pkmn to do#anyways#is this even right idk i only know a lot abt plasma compared to the other teams#but i also feel that flare would be most likely to win compares to the other two hahah#but hey yeah if i got some stuff wrong just tell me and ill fix em hahah#pokemon hcs#jerseyk112#an ask and an answer
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As Good a Reason - four
pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader
summary: when Brock Rumlow picks a fight he can’t win with the White Wolf, he drags his Snake back. Six years after she ran away, Y/N Rumlow is faced with a choice to make; do as she’s told and kill the White Wolf or overtake her father instead because spite’s as good a reason to take his power?
warnings: cursing, violence, weapons
word count: 3k
A/N: Bucky gets darker the next few parts so I’m warning y’all now and no one gets surprised. I’ll add a ⚠️Dark!Mob!Bucky⚠️warning in the parings as well as the warnings.
three | series masterlist
Tag list: @cakesandtom @elizacusi-blog @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @vonalyn
disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest. The women in the banners are not how Y/N is supposed to look. They are merely for aesthetic purposes and Y/N is written vaguely enough for anyone to see themselves in her.
John is sewing up Victoria’s hand as she grimaces and swallows the entire bottle of Vodka in one gulp. Niklaus, on the other hand, is frantically pacing the room, wearing ruts into the floor. John tries to get him to stop or slow down even but he refuses.
“We’re fucked, absolutely fucked,” he mummers under his breath.
Victoria practically growls as John pulls at the stitches to tie them off before snapping at her brother, “Of course we are. We let that bastard take Y/N.”
John looks to Niklaus nervously and then back to Victoria.
“Oh my god, what did you two idiots do?” “Nothing, we did nothing,” Niklaus snaps back at her.
“No, you did something. Tell me or I’ll throw you both through the window.”
John spills almost instantly, “Klaus made a deal with him last year.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she shrieks.
Niklaus rushes over to her and quickly puts his hand over her mouth to silence her, “Shut up for the love of god. I’ll tell you if you promise to not say anything. Brock is literally down the hall.”
She nods and he starts in with the tale of how he might have royally fucked up.
About a year and half ago, Brock caught him and another man together and beat Niklaus to a pulp. He had been laid up in the hospital for weeks and needed routine visits afterward from the injuries he sustained. In addition to being beaten within an inch of his life, Brock had threatened to kill them if he ever caught them again. That had been the final nail in the coffin for Niklaus; after years of enduring the torture that his father put him and his siblings through, he made the decision to get rid of him once and for all.
The most natural choice was the White Wolf.
He was feared across the East Coast and was gaining power rapidly. He threatened Brock’s authority in New York and it made him nervous, sketchy, and scared. Niklaus arranged a meeting with Steve, his community liaison, and set the plan in motion however it all crumbled when Brock caught wind of a rat amongst his ranks. He had Niklaus and John execute too many innocent men and he even made a move on the White Wolf’s men. He’d murdered Tony Stark, one of the White Wolf’s close friends and advisors, setting forth a domino effect of violence. He retailed as one would and with Y/N being dragged back in, it complicated things. Niklaus tried to uncomplicate it and remove her from the equation with the planned ambush at the party but he never expected that she would willingly take the deal. Hoping that she was still the stubborn teen she had been, he’d hoped that the White Wolf would have to take her against her will and keep her locked away until it was all over with.
“You are the biggest idiot I have ever met,” Victoria says with an equal amount of shock and annoyance, “Why didn’t tell me before? I could’ve helped you plan something better.”
“I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt if it all went south. I figured I could take the brunt of it while John got you to safety.”
Victoria scoffs, “So a suicide mission?”
“No.”
“Yes! You know him better than anyone. He will tear you apart limb by limb, sew you back up and do it again until he gets bored. And even then he’ll find a new way to entertain himself.”
John makes a disgruntled noise at all of her moving and says, “But if Brock’s dead, it’s all worth it.”
“No it isn’t John! You’ve been friends since birth practically and you’re seriously suggesting that him being dead is for the best? Klaus,” she pleads with her brother, “we have to find another way. Call him and find another way. Please, I can’t lose you.”
“There’s no other way. Either the White Wolf kills Brock before he can get to me or I try my hand at it and our father kills me.”
Her eyebrows furrow in pain and sadness as John finishes her hand. The moment he’s done she leaps up and wraps her arms around her brother.
Niklaus grips her back tightly ad if he’s afraid she’ll disappear into thin air and buries his face in her hair.
“You better hope Y/N figured out a better plan.”
He nods against her head.
“I love you, Klaus.”
“I love you too.”
Brock loves to incite fear in everyone around him whether that be with his voice or a violence. He craves to make all those in the same room as him fear for their lives if they so much as breathed wrong and that is especially true with his children. He lives to see the terror that lives in their eyes when they see him or how their bodies go rigid when he walks past them. He wants to see them shutter when he walks too close to them. He wants them to hold their breath until he leaves. He wants them and everyone else to walk on eggshells when he is around. He wants them to fear him in every sense of the word.
Victoria’s small sniffles piss him off to no degree and he backhands her hard enough that she falls to the ground. Niklaus, ever the loyal son, only flinches at the sound of the impact and does nothing to help his sister. He knows that if he even so much as moved a muscle, he would be next.
“Can someone please explain to me how the fuck you let that bastard take Y/N?” he growls at them as he rubs the bridge of his nose.
Victoria climbs to her feet and with hit tears pooling in her eyes, she matches his anger, sneering back at him, “He knew we were going to be there. We didn’t stand a chance.”
“You had Y/N. You had every advantage I could’ve given you but somehow you two still fucked it up and killed her in the process.”
Niklaus risks his head and speaks, “She’s not dead. He took her hostage.”
Brock marches up to his son and grips his face in one bone crushing hand as he says, “That’s even worse. He can use her to get to me.”
“Y/N won’t give you up no matter how much she hates you. She wouldn’t risk Victoria and I getting hurt,” Niklaus scoffs and jerks his head away.
In a flash, Brock whips out a pistol and pushes against his forehead, “You’re useless, you know that? I’ve done nothing but provide for you and give you everything you could ever want. Still you fuck up and prove to me that you’re only ever going to be a thorn in my side. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t put a bullet in you and Victoria.”
Victoria makes a startled gasp and lunges at her brother in efforts to push the gun away but John grabs her and holds one of his own to her temple. She whispers insults under her breath and curses him for being “a fucking traitor and a bastard.” Niklaus looks at her for guidance because he’s a loss for words. There’s nothing he could say that wouldn’t get someone hurt. She shakes her head as much as she can, urging him to not say anything. The one piece of information he can give their father to save them would end with Y/N’s head on a platter but it’s all he has to offer.
“Nik please,” she whispers with even more tears in her eyes.
“I don’t have a choice.”
“Nik you always have a choice. Don’t do this please. Él la matará.”
He will kill her.
“Don’t speak that shit in my house,” Brock growls at her, “Try again and this time peak English.”
She pleads with her brother again in Spanish, earning another growl but with the gun against both of their heads, he has to do something. Giving away himself would ruin any chance at catching Brock off guard in the future so he goes the only thing he can.
Niklaus tears his eyes away and locks eyes with his father as he utters Y/N’s death sentence, “She made a deal with him; in exchange for our lives, she helps him kill you.”
“Is that so?” Brock asks, cocking his head in amusement before turning to look at Victoria, “I think I might have to send a message to that brat if that’s the case.” One shot.
And a body drops.
Steve chooses to grab Y/N by her hair this time, keeping his hand wrapped in her braid so that he has complete control of her. The White Wolf gives him a disapproving look but doesn’t say anything as they walk into a looming and dark house. Matching the exterior, the house is black and sleek with no hint of personality anywhere to be found. It looks very much like a house that a mob boss would buy to launder his money and she assumes that this is the case.
“Stop gawking,” Steve tells her with a harsh tug of her hair and she hisses at the pain. The White Wolf looks back and motions for Steve to bring her forward.
Taking her arm in his like a pretend gentleman, he explains that until Brock is dead, she will be staying with him. She’s not to leave and if she does, she needs to have explicit permission from him and a security detail will go with her. Steve smirks when her eyes flicker over to him, indicating that he will be the spearhead of that detail. The White Wolf saying her name brings her attention back to him and continues to explain that the house is hers, she has free reign as long as she stays within its walls. He stops them at a door at the end of a hallway, “This is my office…”
She interrupts him, “And it’s off limits. I know the drill.”
He smiles, looking her up and down while he wets his lips, “Smart girl.”
A part of her shutters in disgust but another….
“How much time do you need?”
“What?” she questions, searching his face for any hint of explanation.
“It’s been six years since you left home so I’m assuming you need some time to figure out a plan. How much time do you need?”
“You make it seem like I left on good terms,” she mumbles, shrinking under his intense gaze.
He chuckles, “Sorry, RAN AWAY.”
She sighs and looks around her, “He’s living in one of his old properties so I already know how to get in and out. It really depends on how quickly you can get me what I need.”
“And that is?”
“How do you want it done?” He takes a moment to think about it as he pushes open his office door and leads her inside. Steve closes the door, locking just the two of them inside. The White Wolf pours both of them a glass of whiskey and hands one to her before taking a seat on a massive leather couch. However with him and his overwhelming presence on it, it looks child sized. He motions for her to sit in a chair across from him and she hestiants but he insists.
“That’s up to you, little snake. You want him to suffer, right?” he asks as he takes a sip, wincing at the blissful feeling of the burn.
“Don’t turn this on me,” she pauses, realizing that she only knows him by his alias, “I don’t know your name.”
“My name?” “That’s what I just said.”
He narrows his eyes at her before giving her the answer she seeks, “James.”
“Don’t turn this on me, JAMES. It’s not about what I want, this is about your little fight with him,” she snarks at him, “The only reason why I’m involved is because of opportunity. You saw a chance to get back at him for whatever reason and preyed on me because of my past with him.”
James reclines in his seat, allowing himself to enjoy her anger and admire her in the process.
“Did he tell you what this is all about?”
“No but I don’t exactly care either. All men have an ego the size of the sun and turn to violence when it gets bruised.”
He chokes on his drink at her appraisal but agrees nonetheless, “Fair enough. So what do you need?”
“I’ll need a Beretta M9A4 with a silencer, an M4, and a set of knives.”
“Strange list, anything else?”
“A getaway car and a driver.”
“I’ll have Sam do it.”
“Hm,” she stops him after taking a sip of her drink, “No, I don’t trust him.”
“I really don’t think trust should be something you’re worrying about right now.”
Y/N slips her heels off and draws her legs onto the chair with her, getting as comfortable as she can to level a bored look at him. James takes in her form as she’s curled into herself and he wets his lips with his tongue.
“Who do you want then?”
“Steve.”
A beat passes.
“Or you.”
He questions her with a smirk as he slides through down into the leather couch. He’s lounging at this point, completely ignoring the fact they’re discussing murder.
“Me?”
“I don’t trust any of your men and most certainly not you but you wouldn’t do anything to put me in harm’s way if you’re involved.”
His phone rings and he picks it up, eyes never leaving hers, “Hello?”
She can’t make out what the other person is saying but she can tell they’re frantic. James lets out an annoyed sigh and closes his eyes as his head hits the back of the couch, mumbling along as the person on the other side rambles on and on. His attention being off of her gives her the opportunity to really look at him.
Eyes taking over him, Y/N takes in the way his midnight blue suit compliments his eyes and how his white shirt underneath is unbuttoned in an absurdly attractive manner. Just under his suit jacket is a hint of leather, a holster she assumes given what little she knows of him.
“He’s not going to do anything and even if he did, I have people close by.”
The sheer dismissive tone brings her back to his face where she locks eyes with him. He must have lifted his head when she wasn’t looking and was most certainly watching her checking him out. She finishes the rest of her drink and sets the empty glass on the coffee table between them.
“Încetează. Seriously calm down and use your brain, Klaus. He’s not going to do anything stupid. If he did, he would ruin any chance of survival he has. ”
She gives him a questioning look and he winks at her instead of explaining.
When he hangs up, she immediately jumps into her line of questions to which he explains that her brother has been working with him for some time now.
“Klaus? As in my brother Niklaus? He’s helping you?”
“He came to me last year and asked if I would help him with… some business.”
“Why did you make a deal with me if you already had one with my brother?”
“It never hurts to have multiple options.”
She groans in frustration and rubs at her temples. Of course she would’ve been suckered into some farce of a deal by a shady businessman. The temptation to throw something at him becomes too strong and she hurls one of her heels at him. It misses and clatters to the ground behind him to which he chuckles at and gets to his feet. His shoes scuffle the floor as he pours himself another glass. Rather than sitting back in his original place, James rounds the coffee table and sits in front of her on it.
“Brock would see it coming if I had Klaus do it regardless of how good your brother thinks he is. You, on the other hand,” he starts, pointing at her, “are the perfect option. He still has hope that you’ll find it in your heart to love daddy again so you still have a chance to gain his trust hence why I brought you here. Taking you away from him builds the tension, makes him sweat, makes him vulnerable and reckless. It puts him in the perfect position for me to release you back to him and boom my Rumlow problem is gone.”
“You still haven’t told me what he did.”
James leans forward so he’s invading her space, “It didn’t seem important a minute ago.”
Y/N matches him and leans forward too, “Well it is now. What did he do?”
“He killed a very good friend of mine.”
“You have friends?” She laughs at him and before she can stop him, he grips her braid again and pulls her off the chair and onto the ground before him.
He yanks her towards him and whispers in her ear, “Learn when to stop, little snake. It’s unbecoming of you.”
She glares him with all the hatred she feels for men like him but it flatters when his eyes flicker from hers to her lips parted due to the pain in her scalp.
"You look good on your knees for me," he lets spill out before releasing her.
She knows that he meant for it to come out but nonetheless she throws herself back as far as she can to get away from him. James, the flirty and seemingly harmless man is gone and in his place the White Wolf reemerges. He smirks at her desperate attempt to put space between them and winks at her again, this time making her body revolt at the gesture. Standing, he leaves the room without another word to her.
Whatever safety and trust she hoped to gain tonight is gone the moment he closes that door.
She’s alone.
Completely and utterly alone.
#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes#mob au#bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes imagine#mob!bucky#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes and reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes fic#marvel imagine#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes reader insert#marvel#mob bucky barnes#mob bucky x reader#as good a reason bucky barnes
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very short ling tiehua + huang yuanfei piece with a focus on tiehua! only 707 words, rest is under the cut (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b
A crunch as metal met flesh and bone. Then a slick rasp as weapons withdrew from wounds.
“That’s eight,” Ling Tiehua counted triumphantly.
“I have ten,” responded Huang Yuanfei leisurely.
Ling Tiehua rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
Before Huang Yuanfei could make a smug remark, the wall to their left exploded, leaving behind a gaping hole. Another wave of snake spirits burst forth, poised to attack. Huang Yuanfei lazily lifted Ruihan up to point it at their opponents, as if he couldn’t be bothered to give them the time of day. Ling Tiehua immediately resumed a proper fighting stance, metal fans at the ready. Then, both sides lunged forward.
Ling Tiehua slashed with both fans, slicing open the jugulars of two snake spirits at once. Nearby, Huang Yuanfei had neatly decapitated another snake spirit. There were already several other disembodied heads strewn about–how was Huang Yuanfei so fast? Ling Tiehua picked up the pace; two more slashes and one thrown knife later, she felled three more enemies.
“Thirteen!” she called.
“Twenty,” Huang Yuanfei replied, almost bored. “Do try to keep up.”
Ling Tiehua grit her teeth in frustration before swinging one fan upward, sending forth a gust of razor-sharp wind. This gust simultaneously caught five snake spirits, ripping them apart mercilessly. Ling Tiehua heard something behind her move; she pivoted and threw a knife straight into another snake spirit’s heart. Then another hiss to her left–this time she took a dagger and drove it deep into their neck.
“Twenty now!”
Huang Yuanfei clicked his tongue. If he was annoyed, he did not show it. “Twenty-four. Not bad.”
Ling Tiehua smiled, a little smug. “About time you admitted it, old hag. I’ll catch up to you soon enough, so you better watch out.”
Huang Yuanfei scoffed. “Keep dreaming, you little brat. There is still quite some distance between us.”
Just then, another wave of enemies arrived. Huang Yuanfei sighed, took out his own fan, and snapped it open.
“How persistent. At our current rate, it would take us decades to clear out this viper’s nest. Let’s speed things up, shall we?”
With a flick of his wrist, Huang Yuanfei summoned a powerful wave of fire. Screams erupted around the den, accompanied by the sound of sizzling flesh. Huang Yuanfei winked at Ling Tiehua.
“That’s ten more.”
“Oh yeah? Watch this.”
Ling Tiehua kept her fans low, then swung upward, unleashing a relentless current. The snake spirits that had not been caught by the initial firewall bore the brunt of this next attack. A cacophony of yelps arose, only to be abruptly cut off as bodies slammed against the den’s walls with a final, decisive crunch. Ling Tiehua silently counted twelve fallen enemies. Grinning, she turned to Huang Yuanfei.
“Thirty-two. What’s your count?”
Huang Yuanfei smiled back in his signature falsely sweet style. “Thirty-four. Still ahead, Xiao Hu.”
“Lao Feng, don’t be so smug. You’ve only got two more than me.”
Huang Yuanfei was about to reply when two more snake spirits emerged. Before either the snake spirits or Huang Yuanfei could act, Ling Tiehua hurled two throwing knives. Each knife struck its target with pinpoint accuracy. The targets fell with a dull thud. There was a beat of silence. Then, Ling Tiehua spoke up.
“Guess that’s the last of them.”
Shock briefly flickered over Huang Yuanfei’s face before he quickly replaced it with a look of mild interest. “I suppose that’s it, then.”
“We’re tied. Still think there’s a lot of distance between us?”
“Hm. This proves nothing. So what if we tied this time? It is merely a little game.” He paused briefly, then continued, “But you did well. I admit that you are a formidable fighter.”
Ling Tiehua smiled and rolled her eyes. “You’re such a sore loser. But I’ll count your compliment as a win.”
Huang Yuanfei sheathed Ruihan. “I shall pretend that I did not hear you call me a sore loser. Let us return home.”
A cloud formed before Huang Yuanfei’s feet, and he stepped on. Ling Tiehua quickly followed suit. Before taking off, Huang Yuanfei put his arm around Ling Tiehua’s shoulders to keep her from falling. Then they rose up before shooting into the distance, like an arrow loosed from a bow.
#scripted#shl#will probably revisit this in the future but i just wanted to get it out#can 707 words count as like. a drabble or whatever?
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Blood Daughter - Chapter 11: Ricochet
Story Summary: After Kallar Viren flees the Empire, his daughter sets out to find him, only to discover he has been taken by Imperials. With help from Clone Force 99, Zeraphine pushes through her losses in a race against the clock to rescue her father or face the galaxy as the last of her family.
Warnings: Character death. Blood.
Chapter 10 | Chapter 12
Read from the beginning.
-- -- -- -- --
The corridors stretched out endlessly, their twists and turns disorienting and their uniformity making it impossible to tell if they had already ventured down one. If the intention was to make a dizzying labyrinth, the effect had been thoroughly achieved.
“It’s this way,” Ricochet said, bolting ahead of Echo and Zeraphine and picking up on the minute landmarks pulsing on his datapad.
A powerful blast outside shook the structure. Sprinklings of dust cascaded from the ceiling and droid units skittered in a panic on tiny wheels. Another distant explosion sent tremors rippling against the building and Echo reached out to steady Zeraphine as she clicked a detonator inside a wall grate.
“Wrecker is working his magic,” the Phominian smiled.
“As long as it keeps those scaly beasts preoccupied, I don’t care what they do,” Ricochet grumbled. “Come on, hurry with the rest of the charges. The control room is up ahead.”
His companions exchanged a glance and obediently concealed the remaining domed devices in discreet spaces along the walkways. With the final one fastened to the back of a pipe, they snuck their way through the facility, meeting with little opposition from the hunters.
“Where are the other Trandoshans?” Zeraphine wondered aloud.
“Probably hiding,” Ricochet answered with a glimpse at his datapad. “Most of them will be out there defending the dam, but they won’t have sent all of them.” He scouted beyond the next corner and signalled up ahead. “Echo, if you could do the honours.”
Echo jogged to the far left entryway and implanted his scomp link into the connector. With a whirl of locks, the door released. Blaster fire hurtled through the opening and the three dove for cover, smoke hissing from the smouldering wall opposite as it withstood the brunt of the attack.
When the projectile storm finally dissipated, Ricochet rounded into the control centre, flanked by Zeraphine and Echo. Maintaining a tight formation, they swiftly moved through the semi-circular hub and dispatched of the Trandoshans within.
“Over here,” Echo announced, directing them to a storage unit. “I suspect this is where our weapons are.”
Zeraphine aided him in hoisting the weighty lid and unceremoniously dumped it onto the ground with a resounding clang. On her tiptoes, she balanced over the lip and withdrew their gear. “Keep that safe,” she instructed as she handed Echo Tech’s datapad. “If we lose that now, he’ll never forgive us.”
Delving into the pile of weapons, she located her glass swords, all but cradling them before she secured them to her belt.
“When you two have finished playing dress up, I’d appreciate some help,” Ricochet called, keying at the control panel attached to the sprawling window.
Zeraphine suppressed a grumble and neared the flashing controls. “I’ll shut down the communications,” she said, working at speed to disconnect each channel. Some remained stubborn, but within minutes, the power lines on the screen depleted and the speakers emitted a fizzled whine. “Rico, if you can get the chariots.”
“Got it.”
“Ready to terminate the dam whenever you are,” Echo said, kneeling down beside main console and linking in with his prosthetic arm.
“Execute on my mark,” Ricochet instructed. “Three, two, one… mark!”
Like a well-tuned machine, the trio deactivated the various segments of the system and the elongated bulbs on the ceiling puttered out.
“Communications are down,” Zeraphine confirmed. “Chariots are offline and I think we can safely say the dam is no longer operational. Ships are unlocked at the port, and power has been redirected to the charges. Nice work, team.”
“Don’t celebrate just yet, Commander Viren,” Ricochet said. “We still need to get out of here.”
“I’m sure we’ll-” Struck by an overwhelming rush to her senses, her eyes darted to the open doorway. She signalled her insight to Echo, and he stole a brief peek outside.
“Company on the way,” he verified.
Needing no further explanation, they departed the control centre and sprinted in the opposite direction of the clamours and blaster bolts that pursued them.
A growl ripped out of Zeraphine’s throat and she unclipped her weapons to unleash a flurry of strikes. Glowing projectiles battered the darkened blades and pinged straight back in a riotous melody of glass chimes and rifle pops.
“You two keep going,” she said, blocking another aggressive wave. “I’ll take care of this and meet you outside.”
Ricochet opened his mouth to argue, but Echo dragged him into a run and assured him she knew what she was doing.
Transferring her swords to one hand, she stretched the fingers of the other and discharged a powerful fluctuation down the corridor. The enemy tottered. Unbalanced and frustrated, she used their instability to slam a series of hits into them before they could recover.
At full momentum, Zeraphine launched herself into the fray and avoided a trembling bullet, impaling the offending creature and leaving her sword embedded in his torso as she swung her second blade to cut through fabric and flesh. Every movement she made in the fight was precise and calculated, a testament to the years of training that devoured her youth.
She veered both blades down onto the last Trandoshan with a gritted grunt. A laboured gasp wheezed from him as he slumped to his knees and flopped forward.
Around the corner, she was met with the unmistakable sounds of a struggle and she pelted to the two clones engaged in an unfortunate altercation. Neon bolts flew in an onslaught attack as Echo bravely shielded Ricochet on the floor.
Zeraphine’s heart lurched. A fortifying rush of adrenaline coursed through her veins as she charged at the attackers. With Echo’s support, their enemies rapidly fell, and the world grew hushed in the aftermath.
“Rico, keep your eyes open,” she begged, straining to get her pleas out as she cradled the wounded clone in her arms. “I need you stay awake, okay?”
“Go,” he breathed. Shaking, he opened his bloodied fingers and offered the detonator button to Echo. “Take this and run. Once you’re…. once you’re in the clear, push it.”
“No,” Zeraphine told him resolutely. “We are not leaving you here. Between us, we can lift you.”
“I was named for my ability to bounce back after injuries, but I’m not bouncing back from this one. I don’t think it’s in anybody’s power to save me now, not even yours, commander. Now go. I’ll hold off the others.”
Echo noticed his clawing attempt to reach for his gun and assisted him in grasping it, positioning his finger on the trigger. “It has been an honour to fight alongside you,” he said, lifting his scomp link in a reverential salute.
“And you, brother,” Ricochet replied.
Careful not to aggravate his injuries further, Zeraphine held him close and placed an apologetic kiss to his damp forehead. “Rest easy, Captain Ricochet,” she choked out through the gooey knot in her throat, saying her farewell with a Phominian gesture of respect and pushing herself to her feet.
Following Echo, she broke into a crestfallen sprint. A riot of gunfire and a final, anguished scream crawled from the pathway behind them, but they kept running. Never looking back out the fear that if they did, none of them would make it out alive.
Humid air and the clamour of battle enveloped them as their boots clashed with sodden mud. At the designated spot, they eased to a steady halt. Zeraphine fired a flare into the sky, its trajectory accompanied by a distinct pop and a shower of red. A second signal erupted a few tense moments later from within a sparse clearing some klicks away.
“They’re at the withdrawal point,” she said. The detonator trembled in Echo’s tight grasp, a gloved thumb primed to blow the charges and faltering. She settled her hand over his and managed a reassuring nod, and together they activated the explosives. Plumes of shimmering gold and smoky grey erupted from the dam wall, creating a destructive display before the structure withered, engulfing the enemy and another fallen brother.
Blaster ammunition sung in wavering bursts. Feet trampled and thumped in a thunderous sprint. Breaths escaped from parched lips and overworked muscles pleaded for a break.
“Trandoshans are fleeing. Should we pursue?”
“Negative. Get going.”
“Southern quadrant all clear. Heading to the meetup point.”
The comms buzzed with orders, survivors confirming their status and their situations, and if the worse had happened, that of their friends.
“Located The Progenitor,” Hunter reported within the fluctuating static. “Sending up a signal.”
Seconds crawled by in a slow haul, standing by for the telltale screech of a military flare. It materialised in a whir of smoke and soared for the clouds, popping in a shower of red and white.
Echo and Zeraphine sprinted for the smoking spill, never stopping, never slowing. Far away, water gushed into the northern sector of the forest, unrestrained and sweeping the base into the drift. From the wreckage, thousands of ghosts found their peace.
Zeraphine’s chest heaved, every exhale wheezing up her throat in an adrenaline fuelled rasp. It took her back to her days in the war, and a distant whine of security alarms rung in her ears. Even though Mantle Squad had a track record of success, there were odd instances where they had been forced to make a hasty retreat after accidentally triggering a surveillance system or a keen-eyed officer had spotted them. Those moments filled with pure dread and heightened senses flooded her veins, urging her onward until she dashed across the outskirts and slowed once at a rocky overhang.
Her ship stood on the end landing pad, exterior blemished with scrapes. To her relief, there didn’t seem to be any permanent damage, and it seemed operational.
“There they are!” Omega shouted, splitting from the group of remaining survivors huddled by the lowered ramp. In a burst of energy, she bounded to her brother and threw her arms around his middle. “You weren’t at the withdrawal point and nobody could find out where you were.”
“It’s all right,” Echo soothed. “We ran into some trouble in the base and had get out another way. But we’re here now.”
“Where’s Rico?” Mylo asked as he approached, craning his neck to locate the third survivor that was supposed to be with them. Their lowered chins and sagging shoulders told him his answer. As his own gaze followed theirs, he caught sight the crimson blotches on the Phominian’s hands, the rusted red crusting her nails.
“He didn’t make it,” Zeraphine replied, swallowing down her remorse, but it bubbled defiantly and refused to be contained. “His sacrifice ensured we got out of there.”
Mylo’s teeth clenched to stem the tide of grief. He and Rico had both been captured together, fighting side by side through it all, and the pain of not being there beside him in his last moments pierced his soul. In amongst his regret, Zeraphine’s hand rested warm and comforting on his arm, and he gave her fingers a grateful squeeze.
“I’m so sorry, Mylo,” she whispered in a mournful breath.
“He is with our fallen brothers,” the devastated clone said, voice cracking despite his stalwart attempt to withhold his mourning. “Wherever they may be.”
Zeraphine made sure Mylo, Echo, and Omega were close by as she traipsed to her ship. Waving them onboard, she ushered the survivors onto the craft and scanned the area for any stragglers before boarding. “It’s going to be a bit of a squeeze,” she said, manoeuvring through the small crowd, “but we’ll be away from here soon.”
Once free from the shuffling bodies, she hurried into the cockpit. The metal grating gave way to transparisteel flooring, light reverberations shuddering beneath her worn boots. Echo came in behind her and sealed the door.
“I’ll get a message to Rex and see if he can help us,” he said, as she started the engines and got them airborne. She didn’t utter a sound, liquid silver gaze locked onto the rolling sky above them. “You all right?”
Zeraphine opened her mouth, intending to convince him she was fine, but her words dissolved in her throat. They would be a lie, an injustice to Ricochet and his sacrifice. Instead, she slumped back in the tall seat. “Could we have saved him?” she asked, her voice unnaturally meagre and uncertain.
“Only if we’d had more time,” Echo replied. “And that was something we didn’t have.” He perched himself on the side of the control panel while the atmosphere engulfed the craft in a flickering kaleidoscope. “He will be remembered, like all of those before him. It’s how our legacy survives all of this. Through the good we do and the lives we help.”
#star wars#starwars#star wars fanfiction#star wars fanfic#sw fanfic#sw fanfiction#star wars oc#sw oc#tbb#the bad batch#tbb fanfic#the bad batch fanfiction#the bad batch fanfic#the bad batch fic#clone force 99#oc: zeraphine viren#oc clones#oc clone troopers
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Dinner With Lampchop And A Drunkard
A/N: People just love Lambert. Can’t seem to get enough of the bastard. I mean, he’s pretty hot so I’ll give you that. But I write for other characters too, ya know? Any who, anon requested a Lambert fic that’s super similar to an Eskel fic I wrote a while back. You can find it in my masterlist under “Death’s Imminent Door.” I know how people love Eskel as well. How could you not love goat dead and his foul mouth brother? A quick note since then is I have not improved on writing action or fighting whatsoever. Hahaha, don’t get your hopes up or anything.
Pairings: Lambert x Reader.
Summary: After a long and grueling hunt all you want to do is get a nice warm meal and relax with Lambert. This wonderful and simple plan is interrupted by some very unfortunate, idiotic individuals. You decide to teach them a thing or two about respect.
“Lambert x reader where they’re in a tavern after a hunt and some locals start pestering Lambert for being a Witcher, and the reader (fed up with people’s brutality) knocks the heckler on their ass, defusing the situation and impressing Lambert. Maybe please and thank you? Love your writing! I always get excited when you’ve published something new!”
Word count: 1,414
Warnings: violence, injury, blood, language,
Lambert straddled atop his horse, Maple Syrup while you walked. He had, to no one’s surprise, decided to take the brunt of the monster’s attacks. The two of you had been hired to take care of a Bruxa living in the remains of a burned down fortress. A new merchant had purchased the land and planned to build her home there.
What she had forgotten to mention was that her husband was infatuated with the Bruxa. The cheating man did everything in his power to get in the way of your monster slaying. Even going out to the ruined fortress with a blade of his own. He had every intent of killing you and Lambert to keep his mistress alive.
When you had brought the merchant the Bruxa’s head, she was happy enough to forget the fact her husband’s body was among your evidence of kill. She was overjoyed in fact. Even paid you and Lambert a bonus for your efforts and set you off on your way. The merchant was generous enough to give you a sack of new bandages and the clothes of her former husband to replace the ones he destroyed by trying to kill you.
Maple Syrup was glad to not have guts and gore on her coat and Lambert was happy to be out of blood soaked clothes. You were just content with being alive with more coin to your name. It made life much easier. The merchant’s bonus was enough for a room with a hot tub of water and two hot meals. You were ecstatic to say the least. What could have been a very poor contract turned out to be better than you had expected.
“You seem way too happy that I got stabbed in the leg,” Lambert noted from Maple Syrup’s side. He used the mare and stable door as support while you unloaded your belongings. His gaze watched you, breaths coming in puffs of mist. The stables were warmer than the cold snow beyond its walls, but not by much. “Wanna see the wound?” He gestured with his head towards the gash that had clotted.
You stuck your tongue out at Lambert. “I’m not happy about you being hurt, Lampchop. I was smiling because of how much we got paid today. We have enough for two whole meals,” you told him excitedly. You grabbed hold of everything you needed for the night, clothes, coin, and weapons. You made way for the inn, politely nodding at the stable boy as you passed. Lambert trailed behind you and you could faintly make out a curse from the boy’s tongue. Perhaps he was not a fan of the cold either.
Inside, the inn proved to be no more than a tall three story building with a small dining hall that could have been someone’s parlor. There were perhaps four tables set, most of which was already preoccupied by those wishing to get out of the cold. The bar was filled as well. Only two seats remained and that was where you staked your claim. Turning towards the innkeeper’s office, you made Lambert sit down and rest. The witcher grumbled the whole time but for once did as he was told.
“One room with a bath, please,” you told the innkeeper politely, twisting your face in what you hoped was a friendly smile. The innkeeper eyed you warily but once he saw the pouch in your hand he said not one ill word of you. You paid your keep and returned to Lambert’s side. While you were gone, he had ordered a piping hot meal for the both of you.
The witcher even had the courtesy to splurge a little, considering your luck. Roasted lamb with rosemary and garlic laid on a plate, a boat of thick gravy and mashed squash towards its side. There was a bowl of baked beans, peas, and tomatoes, with goat cheese sprinkled on top. Your mouth watered at the sight of it. Your hand could not wipe the spittle away fast enough.
“Down wolf,” Lambert teased, tearing a piece of lamb with his canines. There was not a care for manners as he dug into the glistening meat. “I haven’t had a real cooked meal in ages!”
“I made rabbit stew just a fortnight ago,” you smiled at your witcher, taking the seat next to him.
Lambert shoved you gently. If he were using his real strength you would no longer be sitting on your stool. Instead, you rocked back and almost dropped your spoon piled with mashed squash and peas. “You utter dick,” you cursed him in a language you knew he did not know. “I’ll smother you in your sleep for this.” This threat only received a laugh as Lambert stole the bite right from your spoon.
“That’s it. I’m leaving you for the stable boy.”
“Oh, that scrawny lad? He can’t begin to compare to me, darling.” Lambert winked, his feline like eyes making your heart skip a beat. He must have heard because he leaned closer to your side. Whispering into your ear, he said, “And if you try to deny it, I’ll know you’re lying.”
A commotion behind you made you shift on your seat to face a man who had waded his way through the small crowd to your little corner. He smelt drunk, even from your distance. His hair was in disarray and his clothes seemed like they hadn’t been changed in months. “Filthy witcher,” he spat at the ground in front of you. “Fondling that there hunter,” he grunted in a harsh tone. His words drew in an audience as he advanced on unsteady footing. He wagged his pointer finger at Lambert, “You leave them alone!”
“I’ll do whatever I damn please,” you stood up from you seat, standing between the man and Lambert. “He can flirt with me all he wants. That witcher is my husband,” you stated clearly for both the man and the crowd.
“Oh?!” the man looked at you in mock surprise, face going red as he drank from a stolen tankard off of someone’s table. “What has that monster been feeding you to make you say that? Is it something in that there food?” Before you could stop him, he had reached a random bystander’s meal and flung the plate towards Lambert.
It rained turkey meat, corn, and noodles. Lambert’s head was soaked. His witcher senses were no match for the plate of dinner. Coin and noodles clung to his shirt, a strip of turkey hanging onto his shoulder like a crude, mute parrot. You were rendered speechless and Lambert froze in disbelief.
“Sorry Eskel,” you murmured under your breath before balling your fists. “But I’m done being polite for the day.” Just as quickly as the plate had flown through the air, your fist met the side of the man’s skull. His jaw muscles tensed under your touch, you could feel the imprint of his teeth through his skin. “Don’t you dare go near him again.”
The man had landed on the ground flat on his ass. His head rolled with your assault. Your leg swung back and nailed him straight at the crook of his neck. He was down before he could even groan. And the crowd that had watched intently turned back to their meals in fear. Their shoulders hunched and the small dining hall was reduced to rapid whispers.
“You better stay down,” you cursed the man who twitched on the ground.
Back at your seat, Lambert had been given a rag by a passing barmaid. He had wiped most of the turkey and noodles from his form but it was very difficult to get the last pieces of corn when there were so many. “Are you alright?” you asked once sat down. “Are you hurt anywhere? I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Lampchop.”
Lambert huffed out a laugh in spite of what happened. His voice was a tone of unsullied amusement. “Sorry? Why are you sorry, love? Hell, I should be thanking you for knocking out the bastard. That was single handedly, the most amazing thing anyone had ever done for me.” Lambert’s words were as sincere as the witcher could make it but it was hard to take him seriously with corn stuck in between his buttons.
You pulled the remaining kernels off his skirt and smiled. “And I would do it again in a heartbeat. Anything for my Lambchop.”
#lambert#imagine#fanfic#the witcher#drabble#writing prompt#prompt#fanfiction#fluff#witcher lambert#eskel#witcher eskel#lambert lambert what a prick#lambert x reader#lambchop#witcher fanfiction#netflix the witcher#the witcher 3#the witcher season 2#witcher#witcher fic#witcher s2#anon#anon or not#thanks anon!#anon ask#anonymous#violence#injury#mentions of blood
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Eddie and Venom gets protected by their Pokemon Trainer s/o
Here it is! The long awaited next part to this! I won't lie that I got taken over by a bunch of different fandoms so Venom got pushed to the side. 2021 was the year that got me into four different fandoms and I tend to fixate on new stuff. Anywho, this can be read gender neutral or preferred gender.
Eddie and Venom were very strong people especially when working together. Whether it was battling with your Pokemon, fighting crime or the stress of everyday, both faced it head on. But there are occasions where the Lethal Protector needs to be protected.
The three of you had left to get some groceries and a few toys for Goomy. One of your Pokemon babysitting the Dragon Type. Even thought of making some macarons and triple chocolate cake as a treat for everyone.
Now ever since the Carnage incident more people with powers or advanced skills began to crop up. Heroes, villains and the in-betweens. They haven't popped up in San Francisco but it didn't stop Venom from being on guard.
Your symbiote partner wanted to fit in some web slinging while you kept all the groceries safe inside your bag. Everything was going fine until a large soundwave came out of nowhere. Venom dropped to the ground barely keeping ahold of Eddie and you.
Things only got worse when they shoved you out of the way from another sound blast. Apparently the Life Foundation wasn't done just yet as multiple agents flooded the area. Your eyes laying a large sound cannon being held by two of the assholes.
Most of Venom had sunk back into Eddie leaving blotches all across his human host. Your other partner wasn't doing so well either as he took a brunt of the impact too. Guns aimed from all directions with the goons drawing closer.
A sight that ignited pure protective fury as you brought your Grimmsnarl alongside one other Pokemon: Houndoom. These bastards were gonna have a grim reminder of this transgression as wounds from a Houndoom's flames shall forever burn in agonizing pain.
Your attackers freaked out which allowed you to take the offensive. First a Smog style smokescreen as Eddie and Venom needed to be taken to shelter so they can recover. Houndoom can handle the Life Foundation until Grimmsnarl came back.
You had snatched a gun from one of the goons and began to shoot behind cover. They tried to start up the sound canon only for Houndoom to melt it with a well aimed Flamethrower. Without the weapon, the scraps of the Life stood no chance.
Eddie and Venom watched the utter slaughter from their hiding spot in amazement. You gunning down armed men with headshots to your Pokemon tearing their opponents apart via claws, flames, teeth or energy. Neither of them thought they would see such a violent side like this. Much less from you.
It didn't take long for the last agent to drop as your third stolen gun ran out of ammo. Venom had healed enough to allow Eddie to walk towards you. "Why didn't you run? You..."
The answer to his question is simple. "We never abandon our own even if we are forced to kill. This isn't the first time this has happened and probably won't be the last." Neither of them had a response as there was a huge story behind this answer.
For now, you disposed of the bodies via Venom and cremation by Houndoom's fire. That didn't mean whoever sent those goons was left without a message. A plastic bag filled with ashes alongside a note. "Never touch what's ours unless you wish to face true hell."
All of you spent that night watching movies and eating comfort foods. One day Eddie and Venom would learn the more darker side of your life. For now, the Lethal Protector deserves rest alongside love as even protectors need to be protected.
And that's it! The Life Foundation is something that won't be stopped so easily. They are a major enemy in the Venom comics but also behind some of our Lethal Protector's dangerous enemies.
As for our Pokemon Trainer, I will be going into their dark secret in a later headcanon. Only thing I can say is that there are some people you can't afford to leave alive even in the world of Pokemon.
Venom 3 might be in the works as well and honestly love to see what they cooked up this time. For Houndoom, I felt fitting cause this Pokemon is based on a hellhound. Hellhounds are mythological creatures that drag souls to Hell and devour them.
Until next time folks, I'll see you later. This is Houndoom.
#self insert#sonicasura#tales of sonicasura#venom#venom movies#venom lethal protector#venom x reader#venom comics#venom x y/n x eddie brock#venom x reader x eddie brock#eddie brock x y/n#eddie brock x reader#venom x eddie#eddie brock#pokemon trainer reader#houndoom#grimmsnarl#venom let there be carnage#venom 2018#pokemon
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Minific idea: Tomari and Gou found themselves in the middle between a Gangler attack, the Phantom Thieves and the Global Police force.
Gou and Tomari are surprised when one of the Lupinrangers actually defended the gangler from their rider kick.
Considering what Shinnosuke's Rider Kick looks like... that's gonna be a challenge and a half
By the time Gou had pulled up at the scene of the crime, there wasn't a soul left except for the three- no, four parties in a standoff, pointing weapons at each other like they were in an old western movie. The three other groups glared at him as he joined his brother-in-law, who gave a sigh of relief at his arrival.
"Sorry for the wait, Shin-nii-san," he apologized. Shinnosuke just nodded tersely at him, his shoulders tense and tight.
"Sir, we must ask you to leave," said the fellow in the red-and-white suit across the field. "All Gangler-related crimes are under the jurisdiction of the GSPO. The TMPD has no authority here."
"Uh, sorry, no can do." Shinnosuke said. "This... Gangler... is responsible for putting several TMPD officers in hospital. Not to mention several hundred civilians. I'm taking him in."
"Nuh-uh," butted in the other red fellow, flourishing his cape about. "He's got something we want and until we get it, neither of you are getting your hands on him."
"You're not getting the Collection Piece either, phantom thief!" bellowed the first fellow, raising his gun on him.
"Something they want...? Collection Piece...?" Shinnosuke muttered, looking at Gou. Gou gave him a confused shrug.
"What makes you think I would let myself be captured by any of you?" cackled the monster in front of them, its wolf-like claws glowing with a dark energy. "Get out of my way, puny heroes!"
The energy exploded out, and the three groups dodged the blasts by rolling or jumping out of the way.
"Shin-nii-san?" Gou asked, seeing him reach for the lever on his brace already.
"Let's get this over quickly." Shinnosuke said coolly, as he pushed and pulled back Shift Speed.
"What the-?" The chimeric creature found itself trapped, surrounded and immobilized by giant tires. Soon enough, the squeal of tires was heard as the Tridoron raced towards them at breakneck speed.
FULL THROTTLE! S-S-SPEED! called Belt-san, as Shinnosuke's visor glowed bright white.
"What the... A racecar?" gasped the leader of the phantom thieves. "Wait, what's going on...?!"
The Tridoron started going around in a circle, and the tires squeezed their captive so tightly he was flung out of their grasp and into the center of the circle the Tridoron formed. Shinnosuke jumped into the fray, bouncing off his Rider machine and onto the Gangler repeatedly in a series of powerful flying kicks.
"Oh no you don't!" cried the red phantom thief, as he and his comrades pointed their gun-like weapons at Shinnosuke.
"Shin-nii-san, look out-!"
Gou's warning came to late, and as he went in for the finishing kick, Shinnosuke was hit with the combined power of the three blasts. Shinnosuke yelped, thrown back onto Gou, who caught the brunt of the fall as their transformations broke.
"Like I said, we're not letting you get him until we have what we want," the red phantom thief stated. "Oi, Gangler, we're the ones you're fighting~" he called out.
"Like hell I'm sticking around here!" the monster exclaimed, leaping off somewhere.
"And now, we must bid you adieu, dear police officers." The phantom thieves ran off after the monster.
"Wait!" the red-and-white GSPO fellow exclaimed as he and his own squad followed without so much as a backward glance at Shinnosuke or Gou.
"You alright, Shin-nii-san?" Gou asked, helping him get up on his feet. "I didn't get any action at all.." he complained.
"Yeah, sorry about that." Shinnosuke groaned. "Those phantom thieves... there's something weird about them..."
"You think there's something more to them, huh?" Gou questioned knowingly. "So, what's your plan, Shin-nii-san?"
"I think we need to investigate a little bit more... starting with finding out exactly what this GSPO is."
#kamen rider drive#tomari shinnosuke#shijima gou#kaitou sentai lupinranger vs keisatsu sentai patoranger#yano kairi#asaka keiichiro#minific#hxmxbros#dont intend to continue this so thats your fair warning
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Shadowsinger Part 11 - Gwynriel
ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter
*
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Part 9
Part 10
*****
Azriel's heart sank, and he shoved Nesta to the side, knocking both her and Cassian out of the way as a bolt of power shot down the stairs. A slow clap sounded while Azriel glanced around, another way out, there had to be one,
"It seems the bird got out of the cage. Such a shame it'll never fly free." Azriel waved a hand subtly at Nesta, and she froze, his brother's attention was still fixed on him, if she moved, Azriel didn't want to think what would happen if he decided to really use that killing power. Get back in your cage." The door to his cell swung open, and Azriel fixed his brother with a glare, shadows gathering around him,
"You know what, I don't think I will." He leaped forwards, pressing himself against the wall beside the staircase, green light rushing past moments later. The back exit, where was it?
Find another exit.
Shadows raced off in all directions, and Azriel waited, in a few moments his brother would lose his patience, and, shit. Footsteps on stone, he rolled forwards, shielding Cassian and Nesta, his wings spread wide to take the brunt of any attack. Weapon, he needed a weapon, or at least a shield of some sort. He had seconds before his brother located them, even with the shadows cloaking him from sight. A second set of footsteps joined the first, lighter, more cautious. Azriel sent shadows flying for that second figure, and dodged the immediate blast of power from his brother, letting it shoot over his head. The second guard stumbled backwards, and yelped when Azriel slammed into him, twisting the pommel of his sword out of his grip, and swiping the dagger from his belt.
At a glance, Nesta was trying to drag Cassian away, down the corridor,
Behind them, all the way down, there's a way out.
"Run!" He bellowed, and tossed Nesta the dagger, taking up a defensive position to slow the guards starting to return to the dungeons. Nesta grunted behind him, she was still too close, and Cassian said something, too quietly for Azriel to make out the words, but the urgency was obvious,
"No," Nesta sobbed, "I can't," she repeated over and over, she couldn't leave him, Azriel dared a glance over his shoulder, and cursed at the sight of more guards blocking their exit. If she were alone, Nesta could escape, but convincing her to leave Cassian, no, she would never do it.
Even armed, even with his shadows darting around, disorienting his enemies, attacking them, there were too many of them. This was it. He was going to die here.
Azriel was forced backwards, until he was stood back to back with Nesta, Cassian struggling to rise to his feet between them. Azriel dropped a hand onto his shoulder,
"It's been an honor, brother."
*****
Gwyn set the bedside table down, right where the old one had sat, and glanced around the room, the same, but different, altogether too new, unused. She sank onto the bed, and the shadow came to rest in her lap,
"I miss them," It shuffled and swirled up her arm, nestling against her cheek, "Do you miss him? Of course you do, thank you for staying with me." Even with him gone, a little part of Azriel would always be with her so long as the shadow remained. The room was exactly as it had been only a few days prior, but so different, so un-Azriel somehow, maybe it was just that he wasn't there any more, even his scent was fading with the old furniture having been removed. Gwyn squeezed his jacket tighter around herself, and closed her eyes.
"Someone's there!" Mor's voice echoed through the House, "Gwyn?"
"Here!"
"Nuala just got back, someone is at that old keep, we don't know who but-" Gwyn was already moving, already sprinting for her room, collecting her weapons on an instinct. She sighed as she switched Azriel's jacket for her own, his was way too big, she'd never be able to fight properly, let alone quietly in it, no, she had to wear her own. She left it on her bed as she ran back to Mor,
"When do we leave?"
Rhysand had winnowed her with him out to the keep, and Mor had complained bitterly at being left behind, but Gwyn could move and fight silently, and only one person was likely to be able to get in. Rhysand had brought her because he knew the layout of the keep, at least in theory, if it was anything like the others built at the same time, he knew the layout. But he would have to guide her from outside, mentally.
Gwyn took one final, shuddering breath, and let him in,
Breathe,
She did, slowing her breaths, stilling her mind, panic was no good now. She was the rock against which the surf crashes. She was a Valkyrie. She was Gwyneth Berdara, and she would not be afraid.
The keep itself was almost silent, only the echoing of far-off footsteps and the candles and torches along the wall proved that she wasn't alone.
Okay, go left here,
Gwyn pressed herself against the wall, and dared a quick glance down the corridor, one guard, facing away from her. She stepped into the corridor, keeping to the shadowy places along the wall, her footsteps muffled by her shadow, well, Azriel's shadow. The guard didn't turn around until she was right behind him, his eyes widening as he drew breath to shout. Gwyn slammed the hilt of her dagger into his temple, and his eyes rolled back as he collapsed. Gwyn made sure to catch him, and lowered him slowly to the floor, avoiding the clatter of his armor on the stone.
Rhysand guided her deeper into the keep, she met few guards, too few, something was wrong.
How many guards should there be?
It depends, but you should have met at least ten by now.
There's been four.
Four?
Yeah.
He waited a while to respond, as if he were trying to decide something, probably whether to tell her to get out of there,
That's not normal, you know that?
I'm not leaving without them.
Be on your guard.
There were no more guards until Gwyn heard the clash of metal on metal, and almost launched into a run. The corridor she'd been walking down lit up more and more with each step, until she found a stairway,
That should take you to the dungeons, be careful.
I will.
She sent the shadow to check if it was safe, and it flew back to her almost immediately, both trying to go back down, and back the way she had come. It was torn between protecting her and Azriel, he was down there, he had to be. If the shadow wanted her to run, something was wrong, she had to move, now.
The dungeon was filled with guards, there were three at the base of the stairs, and too many to count beyond that. Gwyn couldn't fight her way through,
There's too many, I can't see them,
Wait.
I can't.
Gwyn. Wait. I'm on my way, the way you came is clear. Wait for me.
She should wait, but she couldn't, Azriel was there, Nesta was there, Cassian was there, if she waited, every lost second could spell their doom. She glanced around, torches, there were torches along the wall. She tugged experimentally on one, it didn't budge, she put more weight onto it, and pulled herself up, climbing over the guards' heads. She braced herself to fall, waiting for a few heartbeats, but the torch's stand held strong, she leaped to the next one, almost slipping, but the clashing of blades covered the sound. She scrambled up, moving to the next one, and the next. They were only a couple of feet apart, but each jump felt like forever. She paused on the next, catching her breath, and reassessed the situation. There, only a few more jumps away, Azriel was back to back with Nesta, guards coming from both sides. She thanked all the gods that the corridor was so narrow, only three guards could attack at once. Azriel stumbled, armed with a sword from one of the fallen guards, and Nesta braced against his weight, helping him regain his feet, her own sword looked heavy, she was tiring. Cassian, where was Cassian? There, on the floor, he blinked, trying to rise, and collapsed again, and Gwyn had to clap a hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out at the sight of him.
Oh gods, there was so much blood, not all of it was his, of course, but his wings, oh gods, that was bone sticking out of one of them, and that glazed look in his eyes, Gwyn had seen that look before, how he was still trying to fight was beyond her. Even as he stumbled, he said something, and Nesta whirled, slamming her sword into a guard's gut, he was warning her, guiding her blade. That look in his eyes, he knew it, he was still fighting for her, even though, even though Cassian was dying.
Nesta turned, presumably to check on Cassian and Azriel, and let out a sob when she saw Cassian slumped against the wall, unmoving, silent. She was forced to turn away to block a blow from a guard, but Gwyn was close enough that she could just about make out her words,
"Cass, come on, please, you're gonna be okay, please," Her sword arm was shaking, and Azriel moved to cover her as she dropped to her knees beside her mate, holding his face, and begging him to hold on, just a bit longer. Azriel's strength was waning now, he couldn't hold off attacks from two sides for long. One last jump brought Gwyn close enough to finally help. Red misted her vision at the sight of a sword hurtling towards him, right for his exposed back as he handled another guard. Gwyn didn't think, didn't plan, she just moved.
That guard was dead before his sword got anywhere near Azriel, but close enough that Azriel realized how close it had been when he turned, surprise glimmering in his eyes,
"Gwyn? You have to go, leave us, go!"
"I can't." She moved again on an instinct, blocking another blow that Azriel had missed in his shock, "Rhysand's on his way, we just have to hold on until he gets here. We're getting out." Gwyn took up Nesta's position, her fear a metallic tang in the back of her mouth, especially at the rumble of power that rolled through the dungeons. She hardly noticed the shadows around her, darting forwards, helping her with each blow, each enemy, before darting away to Azriel.
They didn't need to speak, each move was together, as one, he moved, she moved, she moved, he moved. Gwyn rolled backwards, Azriel stepped around her to cover her, Azriel stepped sideways, Gwyn whirled to dispatch that enemy. Each movement was easy, fluid, unhurried, Gwyn fell into a familiar headspace, the same as it had been on Ramiel, but this time is wasn't her sisters she was protecting, it was her, whatever Azriel was.
Power rumbled through the dungeons again, and Azriel shoved her sideways against the wall, throwing his wings up around her as dark power tore through the remaining guards. Gwyn gasped, and hid her face against Azriel,
"It's Rhys, it's okay." He released her moments later, "He'll cover our escape, let's go," he looked around again and swore,
"What?"
"Their leader, my half-brother, he's gone, the coward." Azriel grunted as he hauled Cassian to his feet, with Nesta on his other side, half-dragging him the way they had come. Gwyn followed, keeping an eye out for danger, with Cassian almost completely unconscious, neither Azriel or Nesta would be able to carry him and fight, that was Gwyn's job.
"Is he -" Rhysand's eyes widened at the sight of them, of Cassian
"He's alive, just about." Cassian's head was hanging low, his eyes closed, his breathing ragged and shallow.
"Get him out of here." Gwyn ran up the stairs, taking two at a time, and nodded, desperately wishing that they would move faster, she had no idea how many guards there might be in total, more might show up at any moment. Adrenaline faded as they made their way out, movements becoming slower, injuries more crippling, so much so that by the time they had made it outside, into the fresh night air, Azriel was dragging a leg behind him, his breathing shallow as he hauled Cassian with him. They had to stop, if they didn't, he'd keel over, and Gwyn had no idea how to go about healing anything. There was a grassy bank a few hundred meters away,
"There, can you make it?" Azriel grunted in response, and Gwyn grabbed Cassian's arm from him, "I'll take over," together, she and Nesta just about managed to carry his unconscious weight to the cover of the bank. It was only when she set him down that Gwyn got a chance to really see the scope of Cassian's injuries. His face was pallid, and far too pale, pale from the blood seeping from his wings mostly, broken almost beyond recognition, a bone sticking out of the right one. His breathing was shallow, uneven, and Gwyn gently ran her hands along his ribs, three, no four, broken, another cracked, possibly more, and then there was the sword wound. Nesta was already pressing her hands against the ragged wound in his side, and Gwyn shrugged off her jacket, "Use this." Nesta nodded, her eyes unseeing, tears flooding down her face.
Azriel hung back, avoiding getting in the way probably, but he was injured too, it was just Nesta that had gotten off lightly, but that was probably why Cassian was as bad as he was, he'd undoubtedly protected her.
"Sit down, Az, honestly." Gwyn had no idea what she could do about Cassian's wings, and the bleeding was slowing, so she could at least do what she could for Azriel. "Is it just that?" She gestured to the wound on his leg, and he just stared straight at her,
"You came."
"Of course I did, did you think I was going to still tight and wait?"
"You shouldn't have. It was dangerous."
"Excuse you, why do you think I'm training?"
"Not to clear up my messes."
"Your mess?" Gwyn blinked in disbelief, "How is this your fault?" Azriel shrugged, and muttered something, just loud enough for her to hear, but no one else,
"It always is." Her heart broke a those words, and she froze,
"It is not." Tears threatened to fall, and she didn't stop them, "You are the bravest male, no, bravest person I've ever met, and you have saved countless lives, avoided countless disasters, the Night Court would be long destroyed without you." She knelt beside him, and cupped his face, "Don't for one second think that, okay?" For perhaps the first time ever, Azriel smiled and muttered,
"Okay."
"Now. Is it just that?" She pointed again at the leg wound,
"Oh. Yeah."A shadow danced around Gwyn's head,
"Liar," she crooned, "What did you do?"
"Nothing!" She raised an eyebrow, "Broken ribs," he admitted, and she groaned,
"Idiot. I can't do anything about the ribs though," She pressed the wound, the bloodflow already slowing with him being still.
Gwyn.
Rhysand's voice tapped against her mind, and she let him in,
Where did you go?
Grassy bank. Hurry up.
Moments later he crested the bank, and jogged the few steps to reach them, Gwyn had finished patching Azriel up, and turned back to Cassian, he still wasn't waking up, but at least the blood had stopped flowing from that sword wound. Nesta was still quietly crying and begging him not to leave her, Rhysand placed a hand on her shoulder, and said something quietly, and she let him pass, his hands hovering over Cassian's right wing, the one with the bone snapped in two. Gwyn moved to Nesta's side, cradling her head against her chest, she had to hold Nesta tight when Cassian screamed as Rhysand's magic forced the bone back to the right position, and sealed the wound,
"You're hurting him!" She screamed, trying to break free of Gwyn's grip,
"He's fixing the bone, he's helping, he's helping," Gwyn muttered, letting Nesta cling on to her as she cried,
"I can't, Gwyn, I can't, I - I need him," she broke off as another sob forced its way out,
"I know, I know, Nes, I know. You're not losing him, you're not, okay?" Nesta nodded, but tears were still streaming down her face, "He's gonna be okay." Cassian screamed again as Rhysand set the other dislocated or fractured bones to where they should sit, and Nesta cried harder with each cry of pain from Cassian, until her whole body was shaking with the sobs. She rushed towards him as soon as Rhysand stopped, cupping his face in her hands, running her gaze across his wings, checking that they were really okay,
"Thank you," she whispered, and noticed his ribs were untouched, but Rhysand pre-empted the question,
"I'm no good at ribs," he admitted, "But we should be able to move him now,"
"Why isn't he waking up?" Nesta demanded, and Rhysand threw his hands up,
"Because he'd be in a lot of pain, so I knocked him out."
"But he'll be okay?" Nesta's usually powerful, commanding voice had fallen quiet, shaky, and her shoulders were shaking as she brushed the hair out of Cassian's face, and softly kissed his brow. Azriel limped his way towards them, holding on to Gwyn as she held Rhysand's hand, while Nesta gripped the other, and braced herself to winnow.
*****
Rhys winnowed them directly into Madja's house, to the room she used to house patients, and shouted for her, apologizing for showing up this late, but she just waved him off, rushing to Cassian's side. Gwyn forced Azriel to sit on the second be in the room, fussing again now that they were safe,
"You're damn lucky, Rhysand, if you'd got this wrong," she gestured to Cassian's wings, "He might not have been able to fly again, as it is, it's not perfect, but I can fix it." She finished fixing his ribs, and bound his wound before crossing to Azriel, and he winced when she re-set his ribs, and bound his own wound, "You can sleep in your own room, Azriel, Cassian stays here, I need to keep an eye on him tonight."
"Will he be okay?" Madja's professional demeanor dropped for a moment as she took Nesta's hands,
"I hope so, he's lost a lot of blood but he's survived this far, so he should make a full recovery, you can stay with him if you like." Nesta nodded,
"Thank you." Madja squeezed her hands,
"Go get some sleep the rest of you, Mother knows you need it.
Rhys winnowed Azriel and Gwyn back to the House before wishing them goodnight and promising to see them in the morning. For a proper debrief is what he didn't need to add. Gwyn led Azriel straight back to his room, and pulled out a set of sleeping clothes for him, grabbing a spare shirt and turned around for him to change, she seemed to know that he needed quiet to sort through his own mind, but still wrapped her arms around him, reassuring herself that he was okay, and he held her against him. Azriel didn't miss the fact that she'd just changed into one of his spare shirts, that his scent was all over her, and hers all over him, but it was comforting somehow, just to have someone be that comfortable with him,
"You need to rest," she murmured, and guided him to the bed, pulling herself a chair over, he didn't miss the movement, tried not to think how he had slept in a chair beside her too many nights recently. She had slept in his bed before, but maybe after that nightmare was different than normal, he wouldn't ask her if she wanted to share, she'd probably go back to her bed anyway once he was asleep. Still, his mind emptied when she clasped his hands and brought them to her lips, before leaning against the bed and closing her eyes as he closed his.
Gwyn held his hands all night, and she was still leaning against the bed when Azriel woke the next morning, his head clearer than it had ever been the morning after a return home. She opened her eyes and looked across at him, her eyes full of hope, and leaned closer to brush her lips against his, smiling as she sat up,
"I missed you," she mumbled, "I was so worried, especially when we couldn't find you."
"How did you find us?"
"The shadow." Ah, he'd been wondering if it really had been able to sense the others,
"Thank you, for coming to find me."
"Always," she whispered.
#fanfiction#fanfic#acotar#acosf#a court of thorns and roses#a court of silver flames#gwyn#gwyn acosf#gwynriel#gwyneth berdara#azriel x gwyn#azriel#nessian#nesta x cassian
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Things ILITW did right:
-The cast. The cast was fucking incredible. They all had their own unique problems and we got to glimpse into their lives by playing as them. Additionally, there wasn’t anyone in the group I didn’t like. Lily was my least favorite but even she was a likable character.
-Dan. Dan doesn’t get a lot of screentime, and even though he’s technically a member of the main gang, he’s more of a side character. But PB still made me fall in love with his storyline. It really resonated with me. He was clearly grappling with the trauma from Jane’s death years and years into the future, but since he was the star football quarterback, he felt he couldn’t show any signs of weakness or ask for help. If he survives the final encounter with Jane, he becomes a trauma counselor, and he seems so much happier and more at ease with himself. I love that for him.
-Jane. It’s already been established that I’m terrible at predicting twists, but finding out that Jane was the monster all along at the end of chapter 14 shocked me to my core. I remember yelling at the revelation, I was so surprised. I was both amazed and appalled that Jane was the cause of all the chaos, violence, and terror throughout the story. Jane was the perfect villain.
-The vibe. The vibe is more creepy (while ILB is just outright scary and goes straight for the fear factor) and I think this book really benefitted from the creepiness rather than forcing sheer terror upon us in the first book.
-The lore. ‘Nuff said.
-The pets! We get a baby crow FOR FREE, can babysit Hilda (good fluffy dog!), can get an adorable black kitten, AND can even get a vine monster pet!
-The love interests. In my opinion, all the love interests are fairly equal to each other (except Andy, who blows the rest of them away because he is FANTASTIC). I’m pretty sure most of them get equal amounts of scenes and the nerve boosts make them OP as hell.
-The shed. I loved getting to go to the shed in the chapters for weapons, the lore documents, the pets, clues, and what have you. It was nice that it actually served a role in the story.
-The outfits. There wasn’t a single outfit in MC’s closet I didn’t like. And, while I’m on the topic of the outfits, I also appreciate the lack of outfits. There are only three times in the story where we’re presented with the option to buy outfits. The beginning, before Britney’s party, and before homecoming. That’s it. The clothes and outfits aren’t constantly hawked at us for purchase, unlike...other stories.
-The cast deaths. This is a little morbid, but I thought the ways the main cast died were honestly kind of cool, and I liked how some of their causes of death also reflected key points of the story. Ava being toyed with and flung around to her death like how she used her powers, Andy being torn apart from the inside by spiders, Lily being picked apart by birds, it was morbid and creepy and gross and I loved it. The art team drawing the cast’s dead bodies at the end for maximum shock impact was also a nice touch, and I kinda wish they did that for ILB.
-The nerve. I think the nerve loss/gain was pretty on-point in this book. Nerve loss was kind of big, I will admit, but it was usually pretty easy to get lost nerve back. On my first playthrough with no diamond purchases, not a single character died.
-The memorial. Seeing all the different dialogue outcomes when the entire group is dead or when only one person is dead, or when Noah survives or MC survives, there was obviously a lot of thought put into the memorial. It was very heartbreaking and very well done.
-The music. What a bop.
-The plot. The plot was very well paced, and every chapter contributed pretty evenly to the plot. In other words, filler in this book was at an all-time low. The only chapter that was kind of filler-y was the homecoming chapter, but that was to trick us into thinking the fight was over.
-The romance. As I’ve mentioned before, It Lives has a very, very high stakes plot. This inevitably led to the romance/dating features taking a backseat to the main plot, which of course, was necessary. It doesn’t make sense having romance as the main focus when a homicidal shadow monster is hunting you and your friends down, after all.
-The mental health and trauma mentions. Overall, mental health and trauma can be kind of tricky to talk about, and need to be handled very carefully. I felt that ILITW was very respectful and careful in that regard, and mentions of mental health were handled as realistically as they could be in a supernatural horror story.
Things ILITW really could’ve improved:
-Lily, Ava, and MC. Lily, Ava, and MC’s storylines felt considerably weaker than the rest of the cast. The storylines just felt...lacking. All three were bullied by Jocelyn, Britney, and Cody, though Lily and MC got the brunt of it. Ava’s storyline mainly focused on gaining and losing her powers, which wrapped itself up within 3 or 4 chapters. The bullying plot ended after chapter 7 when Cody died and wasn’t really mentioned again, and Lily’s storyline shifted its focus onto her relationship with Britney. MC felt more like a self-insert than an actual character throughout most of the story (ILB MC definitely felt like more of a character). Not to say they were a bad character, but they were definitely lacking.
-The nerve checks. Unlike ILB, the ILITW nerve checks didn’t really do anything. At least, not until the final game with Jane. In ILB, you paid the price if your friends didn’t pass the nerve checks spread throughout the conflicts. If Tom fails his nerve check, your MC loses a finger, nerve, and Tom suffers a breakdown. Danni betrays the group if she doesn’t pass hers. Imogen’s isn’t terribly high stakes, but she does lose her connection to the power if she doesn’t pass the nerve check. Parker accidentally shoots Kelley and abandons the group forever if he fails his. Failing the first group nerve check will cause Tom to snap and cause a massive argument. Failing the second group nerve check will result in the death of whoever has the lowest nerve. In ILITW, nerve checks simply yield different dialogue, and at the end, determine whether a character will live or die, though this seems to be partially randomized.
-The flashbacks. Maybe it’s just me, but I felt like there were too many flashbacks, and that some of them could’ve been lumped together.
-The side characters. Personally, I find that the side characters in stories are the most interesting. Unfortunately, most of the side characters didn’t get a lot of development and were used simply as plot devices or character development for the main cast. Jocelyn, Britney, Cody, and even Ben could’ve been fleshed out much more. Tom was also severely lacking in development in ILITW, but he was upgraded to a main cast member and love interest in ILB, so that problem solved itself.
#choices stories you play#playchoices#choices stories we play#pixelberry#pixelberry studios#playchoices fandom#choices stories you play fandom#choices stories we play fandom#choices it lives in the woods#it lives in the woods#choices ilitw#choice ilitw#ilitw#it lives beneath chapter 14#dan pierce#daniel pierce#jane marshall#douglas redfield
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Sorry Wrong Number!
Masterpost - Previous - Next - Ao3 link
Chapter 2: Hawkmoth has really bad designs and perhaps even worse timing
Since it was her off night from patrol, Ladybug was the last one onto the scene. She landed down on a building next to Viperion, who was observing the akuma’s skillset as Kuro Neko played distraction down below them.
The villain of tonight's look was... interesting to put it nicely. They were a boy around the same age as the heroes that seemed to be wearing a slightly oversized purple and blue three piece suit with a not-so-subtle lightning pattern running up the arms. His hair was shock white and seemed to be defying gravity while his eyes were protected by bright blue goggles-possibly where the akuma was residing. More importantly, he seemed to be covered in electricity, which was gonna make it difficult to get any hits in. He also had a laptop with him- another contender for the akuma’s hiding place but most likely just a weapon.
Not Hawkmoth’s worst design, but it definitely wasn't his finest work either. Though to be fair she had run around in spotted spandex for two years before she found out she could change her costume, so those in glass houses she supposed.
Viperion, noticing the team leader's arrival began to fill her in on what they knew so far.
“They're calling themselves ‘Elect-Trick’, keeps sending out shockwaves to try and knock us back which is frustrating but our suits seem to take the brunt of it which helps but Neko’s staff is a no go at the moment since there's no way to know if it’ll conduct the electricity.”
It likely would, something they had found out the hard way during the last weather akuma they had to face. While magical it was still metallic in nature sadly, which meant she needed to also be careful with her yoyo. She still isn't really sure what it’s made of besides magic, but this was not the way she wanted to find out.
“Alright, in that case we’ll continue to keep him away from the Eiffel Tower, it’s likely the akuma’s going to try and use it as a large conductor. I’m gonna head down, stay up here and be ready to use your second chance at the signal.” She instructed
Viperion nodded and went back to watching the fight just as Ladybug swooped down to join in. She was just in time as the akuma had begun to corner Neko, who had no choice but to rely on playing defense while her staff was out of the mix. The two heroes nodded their heads in greeting as Ladybug yoyo-d her cat themed friend over putting the duo back on even ground with the villain, who seemed to be ranting about school elections of all things.
Which would be a probable explanation for the first half of his name.
The two continued to fight back against the akuma, neither side quite able to grab the upper hand. Ladybugs yoyo-as it turned out, did not conduct electricity afterall. And, seeing as it's practically indestructible she was able to land hits on the akuma without getting shocked. But the akuma had realized the issue with Neko’s staff and was using that to their advantage, aiming a decent chunk of their attacks at the cat hero which forced them to go back on the defense.
As the fight had been going for over an hour at this point, the spotted heroine decided to bring out the big guns. After doing a silent signal letting Viperion know to start his timer, she got in position to call on her lucky charm.
But she didn't get a chance to. Just as she went to throw her yoyo in the air, Viperion called out a warning that sent a feeling of dread through her.
“LB watch out, There's an amok headed straight for the computer!”
Sure enough, there was an all too familiar purple feather floating through the air on track for the laptop that she quickly caught and purified it before it could land. Thank the Kwami for the power of second chance, nobody wanted to deal with a sentimonster on top of everything else tonight.
Keeping Kuro Neko on the lookout for anymore feathers, She finally activated her lucky charm. Throwing her yoyo up she manifests… a slingshot! She could work with that, just needed to find ammo. Looking around her eyes land firmly on the window of a small toyshop.
Bingo!
Having Viperion keeping an eye out in case he was needed temporarily as backup, she sneaks over and breaks the window with her yoyo. Typically, the heroine would feel bad about causing this much property damage but tonight she’s tired and wants to get this over with so she can make a plan of action for the whole ‘Mayura seems to be back’ thing with her team and maybe get at least a couple hours of sleep. Anyways her miraculous cure would fix the window and return the bouncy balls she was actively stealing so no harm done? After finishing committing what was technically a misdemeanor, she made her way over to the roof Viperion was on and handed off the slingshot supplies before making her way back down.
Luckily Neko had managed to keep Elect-Trick distracted enough for the team to catch him off guard. On Ladybugs call Viperion began to pelt the Akuma with rubber balls, drawing his sight away for long enough to tie him up and take his glasses. One cataclysm later, the teen had been successfully deakumatized and she was able to cast her cure, fixing the decent chunk of property damage caused that night. After making sure the teen was okay to get home safe and getting his address for the interview she would have to conduct later, she turned to her team.
“Good work today guys, let's meet back at base in 30.” Her eyes communicated the urgency of the meeting despite the neutral tone of voice she tried to maintain.
From there the teens all departed in separate directions to recharge their powers and head to the team's secret base.
----------
Okay so secret base was a bit of an overstatement. It is a secret place that the team uses as a base of operations but it was less of a Batcave and more of a repurposed hotel room in Le Grand Paris.
Chloe had brought up the idea after one too many close calls with Marinette's parents while the girls were investigating Hawkmoth. They needed a place to discuss hero work safely without having to talk in code but the question was where. Obtaining an apartment would be difficult as all of them but Luka were still underage, not to mention the issue of trying to pay rent without any parental suspicion. Luckily for Chloe, it's surprisingly easy to just claim a hotel room without being questioned when your Father owns the hotel.
And while it was no Batcave, it wasn't anything to scoff at either. The four teens had been able to pool together enough money in the beginning for the basics, which meant that now any small snuck away chunks of commission money, music gig payments, competition winnings, and allowances were all able to go to improving things bit by bit.
The room was already quite nice, having a separate bedroom that they used as a gym and a kitchenette that was kept well stocked with kwami snacks. Then there was the main area, which had been split down the middle. The first side was dedicated to the investigation and housing Marinette's Guardian materials, While the second half was a hangout zone where they could chat or decompress after any particularly rough fights.
The base was also secure, Marinette had put so many spells and protections on the room with the help of the kwami that it might as well be a pocket dimension of sorts. The magical security system of sorts was extremely complicated, being tied to the teams auras in a way so that the only way to even find it without being one of them was to be taken there by Ladybug herself. It had taken weeks to pull off but was well worth it to give her team a place that was safe from the outside world.
Ladybug was the first to arrive this time, having flopped down into a chair at their meeting table as her two friends entered the room and joined her. They all sat there for a moment, processing the fact of Mayura’s return. Of course this would happen when they were down a member, it wasn't a complete surprise that the peacock miraculous would come back into play at some point but it was really bad timing.
“So what exactly is the plan?” Viperion asked, finally breaking the silence.
Ladybug sighed, knowing that their workload was going to increase once again. At least it was close to summer vacation.
“First we need to increase patrols- especially around the typical hot spots, Neko do you think we’ll be able to finish those jars by this time next week?”
The cat hero nodded “They're almost done, we’ll need to test them somehow though.”
The two of them had recently been working on a variation of an object enchantment technique mentioned in the grimoire. The original object was dubious in nature, having been used as a cage of sorts that kwami wouldn't be able to phase through. Marinette was disgusted by the thought, further feeding into some suspicions she had about the old order. As she was ranting about it to Kagami about it, her fencer friend got an idea for a way to repurpose the spell to trap akuma when Ladybug couldn't easily get to a fight. It would also allow them a new way to prevent possessions when Ladybug wasn't actively on patrol.
“That's good. Lastly I need Bee’s new number, I was going to ask you for it tomorrow but I need to give her a heads up to start on a new case file. We also might want to move up our plans to contact the heroes there.”
Kuro Neko quickly jotted down the number on a nearby notecard and handed it to Ladybug. After hammering out a few last details about their new patrol schedules the heroes were all free to head home for the night.
The trip home was uneventful, and she arrived home to see that it was just past midnight. She also noticed that her bath bomb had been fixed! It was sometimes a gamble on if something like that would count as akuma damage so it was a nice victory after the day she’s had.
Marinette quickly put in Chloe's number, eager to get to bed. She sent her blonde friend a summary on what happened and let her know to be on the lookout for an email tomorrow with the information to assemble a case file. And with that, Marinette drifted off to sleep.
She had made a small mistake though. In her tired state the young designer’s finger slipped, putting a 5 where there was meant to be a 4.
Meaning Chloe Bourgeois was not the recipient of her intended message.
Good thing she wrote the message in code?
----------
Across the ocean, Damian Wayne received a strange text message.
--------------------------------------------
Taglist (open!!):
@queencommonsense
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Color Symbolism - How Steven’s Shirts Portray Different Portions of His Life
A quiet musing from last night had me thinking about this and I knew I had to do a bit more in explaining. But basically, throughout the three main SU mediums — the main SU show, the SU movie, and SU Future — we all know the main color schemes Steven adorns himself regarding his star shirts. We have salmon pink, bright blue, and the heavy black he likes to tow around, but looking into the way these colors were implemented is what we will dive into.
Color themes and symbolism are very potent with Steven Universe. From the use of pinks, yellows, whites, blues, and the menagerie of other colors we could think of, Rebecca Sugar and the crew put a lot of deliberate thought into the design, especially on a thematic level.
For Steven, not only do his shirts represent a very iconic symbol towards the show as a whole, but it represents the main arcs and emotional statuses of our main character throughout the show’s running.
Edit (11/30/19): For sourcing, I’ll be putting the links to stuff I’m referring to in my reblogs. However, my post already got hit off the radar because of Tumblr’s broken algorithm, so if you liked this post then I would be grateful if you could help reblog and spread the word as well!
And with that, let’s begin.
Pink - The Arc of Innocence and Nurture
Pink harbors a lot of connotations regarding femininity in Western culture (and even a good load of masculine connotations in Eastern tradition) but it has a lot more than that under its belt.
It represents tenderness, cultivation, gentle love, nurture, safety, optimism, strength, but most importantly the color itself is seen as non-threatening, calming to one’s eyes, inviting to people.
But with this optimism comes the consequences of lack of awareness or vision. How do you think the concept of rose-colored glasses ever came about? It’s always the idealism or ignorance of the person that allows them to not see red flags or the reality of it all.
And with that, we could start connecting this to Steven Universe.
Throughout the five seasons, this boy always had this priority of being involved with the people and figures in his life as a therapeutic role model. He wants to heal the corrupted gems; he sees empathy and nuance in people’s struggles, and this mindset definitely kept going up to the point of CYM and onwards.
He sees the best in people and wants to encourage them to get onto the path of improvement and healing. There’s definitely innocence at the start, even if his life and the show’s antagonists challenged him to the brink.
However, the lack of vision could be found way back to the start of episode one. Season one was a slow burn of information since the POV showed that his family dynamic was never challenged to him because y’know, it’s his family, they’re gems, and they fight monsters. It portrays his mother as an amazing person to his parental figures, a martyr who loved everything and everyone. There doesn’t seem much for him to challenge at the start because that’s what his reality is, his status quo. He never questioned it. Why would he challenge something that he believes is the norm?
Of course, this illusion of a perfect family does get chipped away. With each episode that showed his family as flawed — with the world around him starting to expand more with information, his understanding towards the severity of the situation and what his status is gets questioned.
Steven will continue to keep his cheerful paradigm, but weariness has implanted a seed into him (among many other emotional issues from upbringing, but we’ll talk about that farther along).
Blue - Stability and Tranquility
The contexts for blue could vary a lot. Very polarizing definitions such as the relation to inebriation, water, and everything in between could dampen the straight-forward process on how to analyze the color associations further; it makes sense for this polarization since the use of it in the ancient and contemporary world isn’t rare, particularly in its application towards clothing, art, and other forms of creation.
But what we’re going to focus on is the sky (or light) blue, the one that Steven tows around before and amid the SU movie. It’s a color that’s mainly associated with the sky, hence the listed qualities found.
”Light (sky) blue: peace, serenity, ethereal, spiritual, infinity (The origin of these meanings is the intangible aspects of the sky.)” -Color Matters
Jill Morton, a color psychologist, also states that the color has a connection to conservatism, passivity, security, and introversion (which are important for later).
For now, let’s talk about Steven and his main goals.
Steven, throughout his two years of intergalactic diplomacy, became focused on bringing about a new form of Homeworld, cited in the game as him deteriorating the former authority doctrine and allowing people to do activities that aren’t limited by their former caste system. And with this, he brings forth the aim of peace and tranquility.
Cue the events of SU the Movie. Now at 16, Steven has been hinted to have never had full-on rest for the past two years he’s been doing his duties to the Era 3 reformed Homeworld. In his announcement, he declares that he wants to finally go back now that everything with the former empire is stable enough for them to function without him.
His main goal now is to relax, have time for himself, and gain his “happily ever after”. And we all know that this attachment to this idea will be played out for much of the storyline, to where it becomes one factor for him in a whole slew of others that prevents him from channeling his gem capabilities.
The catalyst towards him returning is through the concept of change, the ability for him to grow and adapt even throughout the trauma and pressure; Steven, in this movie, however, didn’t realize this because he was already at a state of his life where he just wanted a break from the morphing status quo. He wants a moment to himself, away from the anxiety of responsibilities placed on his shoulders at the age of bloody 14, and overall, just allowing himself to be a kid again.
Yet, even with him helping Spinel and returning life back to the Earth’s poisoned areas, Steven admits to the prospect of never having a happily ever after, and that he’ll “always have more work to do”.
This is where the color of his shirt changes, and with it, the break of Steven’s ideal stability.
Black - Aggression, Power, and Death
But with the expectation of stability for Steven’s life crushed after the events of the movie, I found it very interesting that his blue shirt wasn’t seen or even used anywhere from the stills and trailer shots we’ve seen.
This could be a deliberate usage on Rebecca’s part to discern SU Steven, SU Movie Steven, and SU Future Steven, but I’d like to believe that in-universe, Steven’s wanting to change into black-colored apparel is a mental choice on his part. For black, in color psychology, is a color that protects...and conceals.
“In color psychology this color gives protection from external emotional stress. It creates a barrier between itself and the outside world, providing comfort while protecting its emotions and feelings, and hiding its vulnerabilities, insecurities and lack of self confidence.” -Empoweredbycolor
A great deal of SU content creators have pointed out that Steven, for the entirety of his own life, has been brought up with the idea that emotional vulnerability, no matter how potent or minuscule, can become a weapon or a pain for not only their own being but for the people around them.
I can’t delve too much into it, sadly, but I will link to posts that commentate more on this in my reblogs.
His upbringing has brought him to the paradigm of repression, where his own priorities and needs are swept to the side for other people — even extending to the whole body of Homeworld because of the way he handled his diplomacy. He had to solve other peoples’ problems; he placed himself rock bottom in importance, and now he’s suffering the consequences for it.
Out of all the pieces of symbolism here, black is the most void and mysterious because of its absence of color. It’s used a good amount of the time as a motif of authority, power, and fear, but the ones I’d like to hone in on are death and the concept of being overwhelmed.
Now, we have no clear indication over how the series will go but hear me out. I don’t think a physical death would apply in this situation but more of a metaphysical death — a death of one’s current self.
We find Steven at a crossroads: it will bring his personal imbalance out in the worst ways, and through the fact that the sypnosis foretells of him handling powers uncontrollable by his cognition, then we know that this is a force that’ll bring him into strife over who he is and what he wants.
What does he truly want for his future and how will he come about it?
In Joseph Campbell’s template called The Hero’s Journey, a hero’s death has to come about by a new revelation, a new form of meaning and objective than what they originally intended. The death of one idea will then lead to the true answer, something new the character hasn’t explored but wants to explore since the concept’s been there from the beginning, yet needed a push for it to be unveiled.
”Black is the end, but the end always implies a new beginning. When the light appears, black becomes white, the color of new beginnings.” -Empoweredbycolor
If Steven has been chasing for a happily ever after for most of his life, then a paradigm shift will have to occur.
He must face the brunt of his problems, and in this, he’ll find the answer.
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marvel preferences || 1/?
this is the first of many preferences I will start writing over time. if you have any preference requests, send them in via my inbox! i’m not writing full fics for anyone right now but I would love to take requests for preferences! check my masterlist for lists of fandoms/characters. happy reading!
DO NOT REPOST.
p.s. loki’s will probably always be the longest. he’s my comfort character and precious soul who deserves the MOST.
if gifs not sourced, they were found on google, lmk if they’re yours!
(more below the cut-off)
what made them fall in love with you
Steve Rogers
Your smile. Steve never thought he could find comfort in another person after he woke up in a brand new world. He had lost everyone he had ever known and everything he had been familiar with all of his life. But there was something in your smile that took him right back to 1942, to rich blackberry pie in his mother’s icebox, to the melodies that would play over the static of his old radio, and the alluring feeling of being at home again. He thrived off of your smile - so much so that he could scarcely go a day without seeing it.
Tony Stark
Your sass. Tony thought Pepper was the only one who could keep up with the quick-witted nonsense that rolled of his tongue until you came onto the scene. You were not only just as sharp as he was and kept pace with his attitudes and references, but totally ruthless in your quips which even left him speechless on occasion. Life was never dull around you and he didn’t feel like he needed to try and sensor his remarks or his frequent rudeness - he knew you could understand the reason or the emotion behind it and often even find his sense of humor in all of it. When he had seen you roll your eyes for the first time mid-conversation, Tony knew he was in too deep - especially when he realized your reaction was aimed at Steve.
Clint Barton
Your sense of humor. To anyone who really knew the famed archer, it was basic knowledge to know that Clint had an affinity for a good sense of humor - believing himself to have one of the best. When he had gotten to know you a little better, he was ecstatic to finally have someone to joke around with and not have to worry about poor timing or moody reactions. You were always willing to have a laugh, especially in the midst of a serious or daunting situation. You had your share of dad jokes, cheesy puns, borderline offensive nicknames for everyone on the team, and so many other quips that Clint thrived off of. He found himself eager to be around you whenever he could, ready to bounce his latest joke off of you and just enjoy your company.
Natasha Romanoff
Your leadership skills. Natasha had saught a sense of security all of her life, especially since she had turned her life around and joined S.H.I.E.L.D.’s forces. When you later joined the team, you were able to bring each Avenger together and help them through their many differences - even Tony and Steve. Even out in the chaos of a mission, you had the ability to wrangle the team and find a way through every unforeseen situation. You had established a strong definition of unity for the team, determined to keep everyone together, and she loved you for that.
Bruce Banner
Your intelligence. Bruce loved the fact that he could carry on an intellectual conversation with someone who could keep up with him when he was in his zone. Whether it was science, technology, or just the elaborate store of vocabulary you kept under your belt, he adored every bit of it. You didn’t even need to know all that much about his field of work to seem genuinely interested in his passions and he loved entertaining your interests as well.
Peter Parker
Your nerdiness. Peter couldn’t believe he had met a girl who was just as obsessed with Star Wars as he was. Sure, he wasn’t ignorant to the fact that girls could be nerds, but he had just never met one in person - at least not one as full of so many amazing qualities as you were. You were kind, funny, sharp-minded, and totally enthralled with anything to do with your fandoms, and never missed a beat when he used one of his many fandom-related references in day-to-day conversation. Not to mention you were downright beautiful. He enjoys nothing more than the hours he spends with you and Ned talking about movies, comics, and music, and especially the times you help them build their limited edition LEGO sets without a hint of judgement. You were something special.
Scott
Your laugh. Scott couldn’t get enough of it. Since the first moment he had heard your real laughter, unkempt and wild, he had been finding ways to bring it out of you - which he succeeded at more times than not. There was something about the way that expression of joy left you breathless for air with little crinkles at the corners of your sparkling eyes. It was adorable. Being able to have that effect on you was one of the few things he could truly take pride in, and he would happily spend the rest of his life doing just that.
Heimdall
Your eyes. He is always careful to study a person’s eyes upon meeting them, knowing them to be the window to a person’s very soul; their innate being. When he looked into yours, he saw a mix starlight and wonderment. He could see from the very start that you had an honest soul - you sought no ill will upon anyone around you. You were good, passionate, and pure. You had captivated him with just a single glance and he found himself relentlessly drawn to you.
Loki
The way you speak to him. Loki had spent a lifetime surrounded by voices fueled with negativity and condescension, apart from the voice of his mother. He had been the brunt of cruel jokes from the Warriors Three, blamed for his brother’s numerous misgivings as children, and forced to accept Odin’s distaste for him. When you came along, he had expected no different from you - but you proved him wrong. You spoke to him in a way no one, save his beloved mother, had ever spoken to him.
You regarded him with respect as a noble, which most people had try to strip from him all of his life. Your kindness, which overflowed in abundance around him, warmed his soul with pleasure. Your tone was never anything less than sincere. Even when you grew frustrated with him, you were mindful to respect his triggers and could express your anger truthfully in love, without malice or hatred. When you laughed, you laughed with him, and not at him. Your compliments and endless affirmations of his worth gave him a since of residual positivity about himself. He found himself eager to see you and speak with you - he knew you would never dismiss him or abandon him. Because of you, he had begun to like himself as he was, not for what anyone told him he could never be.
Thor
Your compassion. Thor had known a great many people in his lifetime, noble and ordinary, and had yet to meet anyone with a heart as big as yours. You had seen him as more than just a stuck-up prince from the very beginning and had helped him see past himself and shed his arrogant scales. You never asked for anything more than simple kindess and in return, you gave your heart so fully to every cause. In many ways, you had taught him how to see with his heart and not so much his power or his royalty. You’d shown him how to see through the eyes of his people, and not just as their ruler. He wishes he could be as compassionate and selfess as you are.
Brunnhilde
Your combat skills. To say Valkyrie was impressed the day you slayed three Sakaar Imperials with one clean swing of your blade was an understatement. They had been looming in the distance, their weapons aimed for her head, as she fought of a hoard of junk hunters. The imperials had been out for her for a few weeks, ever since she had gained the special favor of the Grandmaster for her delivery of new gladiators or scum. Your swift decision to aide her saved her life. She hadn’t trusted the sword of anyone other than herself since the massacre of her fellow Valkyrie until she met you. She admired your skill and determined demeanor in a fight, as well as your ability to sense a sour situation. You had grown on her.
Peter Quill
Your taste in music. Peter wasn’t used to having a receptive audience when it came to sharing his mix tapes with the Guardians. It took several weeks - for Drax, it took months - for them to begin to appreciate the songs he blasted through the sound system of the Milano. When you arrived on the scene, he was more than ecstatic to find your Zune hidden away in your things after Rocket, who had yet to trust you, had convinced him to search your bags for any incriminating evidence. It was loaded with many of the same songs he had spent his life memorizing and dancing to. From then on, after you got over the snooping through your things in secret, you and Peter would share your music. Whether it be oldies, new discoveries, or absurd alien songs that came through the radio frequencies, Peter couldn’t be happier to finally have someone who understood the power of music the way he did.
#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers imagine#steve rogers preference#steve rogers preferences#steve rogers imagines#tony stark#tony stark x reader#tony stark imagine#tony stark imagines#tony stark preference#tony stark preferences#avengers preferences#avengers imagine#avengers x reader#guardians of the galaxy preferences#guardians of the galaxy imagine#clint barton x reader#clint barton imagine#clint barton preference#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff preference#black widow#captain america#iron man#hawkeye#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader
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RWBY
The New War part 4
Jaune Arc's All Out Attack
Just outside of Shinrah district.
Jaune and Ren had to start traveling by rooftops because of the miasma that is covering most of the streets due to this though Jaune is getting exhausted from all the Aura Jumping. It wouldn't be a problem if he wasn't caring Ren doing so.
Jaune: Talking about me and junk food but your heavy asf.
Ren: Jaune! I don't want to here anything about you being tired from carrying me across rooftops.
Ren: You not only suggested this method, but aren't you the one that caught a speeding car with your body.
Ren: That Torchwick guy escaped but you did something unbelievable.
Jaune: I was in the hospital for a week for three cracked ribs. Not to mention it knocked me unconscious.
Ren: Even more of a reason for you to not be bitching rn.
Jaune: I think I like this Ren get used to me.
The two took cover at the top of they're current building then observed the captured cop and EMS workers. They could hear a man who was obviously a squad leader sporting heavy armor and two large saw swords.
Atlas Elite Oppressor: It's honorable seeing so many of you fighting to protect your kingdom. How come there are no soldier's only law enforcement?
Atlas Elite: I'll tell you why, it's because Ozpin didn't think they where worth sending into the city. That they needed to protect the academy.
Atlas Elite: So in other words your all expendable.
Police officer: Shut your mouth you fucking Terrorist.
Atlas Elite: Terrorist!? Lol where Atlas solider's.
Alvin Marcus: Listen son in all my years alive Atlas would never do something like this. My name is police chief Alvin Marcus.
Alvin: Ironwood would never order an attack against his home kingdom.
Atlas Elite: Well you know what Alvin thank you for having the balls to speak up... Now... Die for it.
And with a lift and a swing the man's head was taken off.
Jaune was finally at his boiling point as he was about to make a split second decision till he felt Rena hand grab his own. Jaune turned and looked Ren in the eyes who had a face seriousness. There was a mutual understanding between the two but Jaune knew if someone else died then he would step in. They both continue to watch on.
Atlas Elite: Well then... He's dead... So who's next?
Atlas Elite: Let's see they're are 40 of you we'll start executing you guys in groups of 10.
Atlas Elite: Okay men begin. Try not to have to much fun.
It was just like that the men and women where gonna be shot and killed. Police officer's and EMS workers who most had families. Jaune couldn't take it anymore so he jumped into action.
Ren: JAUNE!
Jaune: Bastards landed and swung his blade at one of the soldiers and as like nothing the man flew back with a huge slash in his chest and his eyes lifeless. Jaune didn't take it into consideration but the man he just killed didn't have an aura. Which means that most of these guys will go down easily.
(Jaune's mind)
" Is it really a good thing that it's that easy. "
"Ricky: Do what you have to Jaune, to protect the people around you and care about."
The Atlas Elite was surprised to see the young man cut down one of his men so easily. It turned out that's all it took for the police officer's to fight back as now a big battle of attrition had began. So the Elite did the only thing he thought was right and that was to take out this young man. He could already tell that his target was a killer at heart. That Mistress would love for someone like this to join her ranks. No hesitation just calculated swings and focused blocking. He is block bullets and using his aura to defend himself from and oppressor troopers. Now there's a green one huh interesting
Jaune had just took what felt like a hit from Cardin's mace to the side of the head but it was just a shotgun buckshot. He then stuck his blade into the guys knee rotating his wrist and and realizing something this felt odd killing these guys so easily. Whatever he needs to do he'll do it to protect these people. All of a sudden Jaune's senses struck him both physically and mentally as he was then sent five feet and bouncing off the side of a car.
Ren: JAUNE!
Jaune could hear Ren yelling out to him. He was fine he was able to lift his shield up to take the wide and aggressive swing he had very little time to react as he used his sword to slide and redirect a blade that was slashed vertically at him. Jaune then spun out of it and backhanded the attacker with his shield. The difference was that this tall bulky guy with duel wielding saw blades that are atleast half of Jaune's size. Jaune was at 6'3 so these swords where ridiculously big. Obviously this guy over compensating. Shit why did the commander have to be a tall and bulky hulk of a man, why couldn't he just of been cute like Ren.
Then it was a saving grace as A helicopter with Vale soldiers showed up and began to fire upon the enemy this made the guy end his attacks on Jaune and begin to fall back but Jaune wasn't having it as he chased him leaving Ren behind.
Jaune: Oh No You Don't Ass Hole Get Back Here!
One of the retreating soldiers was about to fire on Jaune till Ren pulled the trigger on one of his pistols and blew the guys brains out. Ren was not as shocked as he should of been. He wasn't about to let Jaune get killed so he chased after him as Vale military forces moved in.
Jaune had cornered the man. Then aimed his sword at the man.
Jaune: You'll pay for what you've done. Killing all of those innocent people.
Atlas Elite: Laughing... You got fight in ya kid.
The two stood there reading to see who would swing first. But neither one had to wait as the man rushed at Jaune only for Jaune to smirk as his chest glowed bright blue over his heart and without any warning Jaune sheathe his blade and went to punch the ground with his left hand all of the energy he had built up. This new attack Jaune was saving for whenever him and Yang spared again let alone it be Pyrrha.
Jaune: BAHAMET..FURY
With a mighty roar and loud kaboom that sent out a bright blue blaze that can be seen from Beacon Tower. This stunned Ozpin and Glynda who knew who that could of been. Especially since a news chopper caught the attack live. For the world too see, so teams RWBY, CFVY, Nora and Pyrrha saw it.
Ruby: Well guess we know who that would of been for if we had Combat class on yesterday.
All Jokes aside the chopper was waiting for the dust to clear. When it finally did Jaune was now Shirtless and sporting a big gash on his right arm it looks like the guy broke his Aura. Something that everyone at Beacon knew was next to impossible because Jaune is undefeated when it came to combat class. If one doesn't count the draw between him and Pyrrha. The two fought it out until they both fell from exhaustion. But what was about happen now was not a spar where it's fight till your at your max. No this fight was of a higher stake, Jaune's life was on the line.
The man got up and used his blade's to support himself.
The Butcher: Your... One pain in the ass you know that?
The Butcher: They call me The Butcher. That's my name now what's yours?
Jaune stayed quiet for a second because he was honestly still shocked that some one took the full brunt of his shock wave ground smash.
Jaune: Jaune Arc... No relation
The Butcher: A Arc huh? You truly are special.
Without a second passing The Butcher rushed in and Jaune eyes tightened as his vision focused and his mindset locked in. This battle will result in one of them dying. Jaune was able to deflect the The Butcher's swing but his wild style was new to Jaune so he wasn't expecting the second blade to come out of no where and slash his right arm and knocking his blade away leaving another gash if torn flesh and on the underside of Jaune's arm. This was bad he wouldn't be able to put a lot of power behind any punches on this arm. But that was okay Jaune knew what he would have to resort to Jaune then burst forward. Eyes lacking fear but a resolve he slide in grabbing The Butcher by his waist and just like that Ursa in class Jaune German suplexed him, again rolling into it and lifting the man again but this time keeping a two arm bear hug and slammed the guy on his shoulders sideways. Again Jaune rolled into it and lifted the man up and with his feet planted and with raw strength and pure adrenaline running through him Jaune threw the disarmed Butcher into the side of a building where he collided and bounced off of. Jaune was gassed after that display by no means was Butcher a light weight at 8feet tall and weight what felt like a ton it was hard to do what Jaune did. He may have caught a car at top speed but he hadn't been through hell before it. It just happened when he was at full strength.
Jaune felt the hands of someone familiar to him grab him. Ren had grab Jaune and gave him a shot of Adrenaline Ren looked like shit like he had got caught in Jaune's explosion.
Jaune: Dame Ren I'm sorry-
Ren had shut him up with a painful shot of adrenaline to the to the leg.
Jaune: Ow... Sorry .
Ren: You will be if we make it out of this.
Ren: I don't have any aura and my weapons are destroyed thanks to you. But that guy needs to go down.
Jaune: You thinking what I'm thinking then😁.
Ren blushing of embarrassment: Shut up
Jaune: Aww yeah Martial Arc's time.
Ren: ugh
The two ran in at the butcher who had recovered and was not ready to fight a juiced up Jaune and what looks like the ninja from earlier. But what surprised The Butcher more was the Ninja had just vanished and Jaune Arc looked to be throwing something invisible. It didn't click until he felt what was a foot to his jaw and a right hook to his rib cage one so powerful he felt his ribs crunch and shatter with it this dropped him to one knew then a barrage of calculated punches from the ninja and bone breaking bashes from Jaune. When the barrage ceased The Butcher was dumb founded the one eye he could see out off. He saw that Jaune was now casting a bright blue flaming aura and with one touch he turned the emerald ninja next to him glowing a bright green flaming aura as well.
The two locked eyes with The Butcher who was now expressing great fear.
Ren: When did you learn how to do this?
Jaune: I'll tell you later.
The two then lead in like a dance of blue and green as they both went in for punches kicks and one of Jaune's kicked sending The Butcher skyward. Ren Jumped into Jaune's hands and launched forward to meet The Butcher he super kicked him and without any warning Ren felt a burst of power as he flew forward looking back in slow motion to see Jaune winking at him and his chest burning bright blue. That's when Ren realized that Jaune had found a way not only to convert kinetic energy into aura, but he can transfer it to other's. Ren flew forward grabbing The Butcher and throwing him down towards Jaune who had jumped towards The Butcher who was beaten and bloody.
Ren: Jaune please don't kill him.
(Jaune's Mind)
No worries Ren I refused to be the monster that this man is. I will put him in his fucking place though.
Jaune: HAA!
With a discharge of all the energy Jaune knocked The lights out of The Butcher. His head snapping back from the impact but not killing him but mainly knocking him out.
Jaune landed and caught the Butcher to keep him from receiving anymore damage.
Five minutes later
Jaune came back sword in his sheathe, even though it took him a minute to find it. Ren was just standing there back towards Jaune. Jaune walked up and lightly pushed Ren's shoulder.
Jaune: From what I see the military is rounding up the last remaining terrorist and Atlas only General Ironwood is talking with Ozpin that's why there are war ships up above.
Ren: He shows up only now?
Jaune: Yeah but atleast it's over right.
Ren: Hey did you ever actually turn your scrolls distress signal?
Jaune: Yeah about that... Hehe I dropped my scroll when I rushed in to stop those guys earlier. Hehe
Ren: I want to punch you right now but I'm to weak to put any force behind it.
Then something grabbed the two's attention
Nora: Ren! Jaune!
They both turned to see they're teams and Professor Ozpin and Glynda.
But Jaune knew he was in trouble when he saw Yang and Ruby rushed him. Jaune knew he was about to receive the world's strongest hug and beating courtesy of Yang he has ever taken.
(Jaune's mind)
"I die today, this is how I die."
End of part 4
Character analysis
The Butcher: age late thirties maybe early twenties.
Classification: Classified
Huntsman classification: Unknown possibly Vanguard giving his size, weapons, and fighting style
Military experience: Ex Sargent first class.
Semblance: None
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Beach House (Final Rose)
The lawnmower’s startup sequence engaged shortly after midnight. His processors cycled through several streams of incoming data effortlessly to narrow down the reason for his awakening.
There.
His creator had posted drones around the perimeter of the beach house they were renting for their holiday. Those same drones had detected movement outside of the established norms. He took a handful of cycles to peruse the data and request further information.
The drones possessed more advanced sensors, but activating those might alert any intruders to their discovery. Instead, he relied on their passive sensor sweeps. The intruders were using advanced stealth technology, which had all but hidden their presence.
What they hadn’t accounted for was some of the local wildlife detecting them and responding accordingly. It was that wildlife that the drones had detected. The lawnmower issued and order, a passive sonar sweep at frequencies inaudible to both humans and Faunus.
The sonar sweep came back positive. Multiple intruders detected in an attack pattern designed to breach the beach house. A passive thermal scan revealed nothing. The lawnmower gave the mental equivalent of a frown. Thermal camouflage combined with visual camouflage. An Aura sweep would definitely be detected, so he withheld that order.
Instead, he alerted his creator and Thomas, the robotic polar bear that the kids had built.
His creator was at his side in moments. Her fox ears twitched as she kept her Aura calm and steady.
“I don’t know who leaked the location of our holiday, but we can worry about that after we deal with these guys.”
His creator’s wife joined them.
“I’ll go outside with Thomas and the lawnmower. Can you start trapping the inside. If they get past us...”
“I’ll be ready for them. They won’t get the kids.” His creator’s expression was devoid of its usual cheer. “I’ll give control over the rest of the drones to the lawnmower. Have Thomas go out first. He’ll draw their attention. If they’re smart enough to get this close, they’ll have a plan for you. Be careful. Once I’ve got this place trapped and shielded, I’ll lend support.”
“All right.”
His creator’s wife patted his chassis. “You’re with me.”
“Hey.” His creator gave him a sharp look. “Weapons free. No prisoners. Total war.”
The lawnmower processed the words. They were a very specific sequence, one that authorised him to do whatever he deemed necessary to safeguard his creator and her family. His weaponry was usually heavily limited to minimise property damage and permanent injury. Not anymore.
X X X
The lawnmower cut communications with Thomas. The robotic polar bear had already been briefed on the plan. Any further communication might be picked up if their opponents had sufficiently advanced scanners. Normally, the lawnmower made quite a bit of noise when moving around, but he had activated his stealth protocol.
A silencing field combined with multi-spectrum camouflage allowed him to get out of the house and into the garden without being detected. Of course, he doubted his stealth would last once the fight started. When the battle began, his opponents would undoubtedly abandon any attempt at stealth, which meant they would activate all of their sensory abilities to the maximum. Even his creator’s stealth protocols wouldn’t be able to completely conceal him.
It was a pity too that most of the drones he had access to on this trip were not suited for heavy combat. They had stunners and shields, but little in the way of heavy firepower. Oh well. He’d make do. Organics could be surprising fragile. The prongs on a stunner might not sharp enough to kill, but they could easily blind, and electric shocks at opportune moments could easily lead to openings he could exploit.
Not far off, Thomas lay in wait. With his heavily reinforced chassis and exterior built of energy- and force-absorbing materials, the robotic polar bear was ideally suited to draw enemy fire. Still, the lawnmower felt a stir of unease. His friend was sturdy, but their enemy would not have come here without proper preparations.
As his processor counted down the seconds until the operation commenced, he ran another passive sonar sweep. He fed the data to Thomas and overlaid it with his visual feed. Yes. If he looked closely enough, there were minute distortions in the air that matched the general locations of the objects the sonar sweep had picked up.
Three.
Two.
One.
Zero.
X X X
Thomas roared, a handful of powerful speakers built into his frame unleashing a torrent of hideously loud noise pitched at frequencies designed to deafen or disable Faunus and humans alike. At the same time, the drones floating in the air unleashed powerful sensor sweeps designed to overwhelm their opponents’ camouflage. When that failed to reveal them, the drones fired their stunners. Powerful currents of electricity surged down the cables attached to the stunners, revealing their foes.
Several dozen White Fang elites.
Thomas charged forward and was greeted with a hell storm of fire. Heavy calibre slugs designed to tear through armoured Grimm and punch through reinforced concrete slammed into him. His inbuilt shields flared to fend off the assault only to fail a moment later beneath the sheer volume of fire. He staggered momentarily and then pressed on as the storm of gunfire ripped holes in his exterior and clanked off the reinforced interior casing that protected his most important components.
He closed in on his first opponent and swiped with one claw. With strength at least an order of magnitude greater than any bear, his blow smashed right through the Aura of his first opponent and ripped them in half. Panels along his side opened up and unleashed a salvo of buckshot into the White Fang around him. To his disappointment only two thirds of the weapons were able to successfully fire. He had already taken considerable damage.
Yet he was not concerned. Alone, he would have been picked off. His opponents outnumbered him, and his scanners indicated significant amounts of Aura in all of them. However, he was not alone.
X X X
The lawnmower catalogued the damage Thomas had already sustained with a mental frown. His friend had already taken serious damage despite his durability. Their opponents had come equipped for a war. Well, he would give them one.
He trundled up to the closest White Fang member and activated his primary close-combat weapon.
The shotgun was a much-loved close quarters weapon. He was equipped with twin automatic shotguns, each with a maximum firing rate of 300 rounds per minute. Rather than standard shells, he used tungsten tipped, fire-Dust composite shells. The tungsten would allow the heavy shell to punch through most body armour. However, upon impact, the fire-Dust that made up the bulk of the round would then be crushed against the tungsten tip resulting in immediate sublimation.
This in turn guaranteed a complete transfer of momentum from the shot to the target along with the creation of a literal cloud of molten material inside the target. In organics, this typically resulted in a successful centre mass hit simply evaporating the torso.
His opponent had impressive Aura reserves, several hundred times that of a civilian. In the span of three seconds, the lawnmower hit him a total of thirty of the tungsten, fire-Dust shells. His Aura withstood the dirty twenty-seven of the impacts before cracking. The three subsequent hits erased his torso and sent his limbs tumbling away.
Yet even before those limbs hit the ground, the lawnmower was already deploying more of his weapon systems. Nets flashed out. Aura could protect from explosions and gunshots, but nets could still be effective. However, instead of the usual shock the nets were designed to deliver, he upped the voltage by a factor of a hundred. That should be enough to incapacitate those he’d managed to hit. Once that occurred, it was easy to pour shotgun slugs into them until they ceased to be relevant.
In front of him, Thomas continued his assault, lashing out with mad abandon as missile pods in his back opened to fire their lethal cargo: clusters of mini-missiles designed to first overwhelm an opponent’s Aura before creating clouds of shrapnel that would shred flesh and pierce through body armour.
One of the White Fang managed to draw a bead on him, and the lawnmower braced for impact. A rocket-propelled grenade exploded against his side followed by several punishing impacts from anti-materiel weaponry. His shields, more substantial than Thomas’s, were able to bear the brunt of the impact whilst his smaller size allowed for more concentrated armour. Even so, a number of warning came up, and he devoted some of his systems to repair while ejecting one of his batteries.
The battery had overloaded due to the damage done to his shields. Tossing the useless battery aside, he had one of the drones rush to deliver him another as he diverted any additional power he had to his shields.
Someone leapt at him with a spear held high, and he took a trio of cycles to aim before shooting an electrified harpoon. His creator had originally intended it to be used to catch and stop vehicles, but it worked well enough to knock his opponent back. The angry flare of Aura informed him that his opponent was still combat capable, and he turned his twin automatic shotguns toward the White Fang member.
The night was lit up with the roar of his firepower, and his opponent staggered back under the barrage. They dodged in a desperate attempt to get clear, and he activated his tractor beam. He usually used it to manipulate tools or move bunches of leaves around. It wasn’t designed to stop someone with the Aura signature of an A Tier hunter, but it didn’t have to. It managed to trip them over, and his twin shotgun were able to lock on. His opponent did not survive the ensuing barrage.
The lawnmower directed some of the drones to ram themselves into the weaker members of the assault. He detonated the drones in the faces of the White Fang members. Most survived, but they were still blinded. In their moments of weakness, the lawnmower calmly fired a salvo of his own mini-missiles. Unable to dodge, many of them were killed outright in the ensuing explosions. Others staggered into the traps his creator had prepared earlier. Claymores might be relatively primitive, but they were incredibly effective against opponents without enough Aura to protect them. He had the drones handle the rest. Picking up a heavy rock and bashing someone over the head was hardly an efficient way of doing things, but the drones could do it well enough to opponents who were barely mobile and lacking in Aura.
Every now and then, his and Thomas’s attacks were joined by flashes of Aura as his creator’s wife discretely eliminated unsuspecting members of the White Fang with her Aura constructs. Good. She was keeping herself largely concealed. In the chaos it was doubtful that anyone would notice her attacks, so she should still be able to catch the most powerful members of the White Fang attack team off guard.
X X X
Thomas noted the damage he’d sustained. Two of his limbs were barely operational, and he was relying more on his inertial manipulators to move. However, he was still a large, heavy machine, which meant simply ramming his opponents was a completely viable option.
Most of them were already running low on Aura as his barrage of mini-missiles had been able to catch the majority. Furthermore, the lawnmower was laying down a hellish storm of fire with his shotguns. Hitting a target at long-range with the shotguns would have been difficult even for the lawnmower’s advanced fire control systems, but this was a phone booth fight with the majority of their opponents no further than fifteen feet away. The chaos also made it easy for their creator’s wife to strike without giving herself a way. A razor-thin Aura construct to the heart would be impossible for most organics to notice in the midst of the battle. Likewise, a noose tightening to slice a throat open would be easy to miss with explosions, gunfire, and lasers everywhere.
As a sword stabbed into his side and glanced off the reinforced armour around his power source, Thomas twisted and bashed his barely working front right limb into his attacker’s skull. His attacker flopped to the ground, and he took a split-second to gauge the distance before dropping several canisters of gas onto the ground.
With their full Auras, his opponents would simply have been able to ignore them. Running low, however, the poison gas stood a decent chance of working. Of course, he and the lawnmower would be fine. There was a flash of light. Good. The lawnmower was using his lasers. Lasers weren’t all that useful against a skilled and powerful opponent with their full Aura, but against someone without Aura, they could easily disable or kill.
Thomas lumbered forward, swatting aside on White Fang after another as they tried to shake off the effects of the gas. A few tried to get around him and the lawnmower only to come apart in clouds of gore as the lawnmower triggered the mines his creator had laid earlier in the day.
As another White Fang faltered, only to be crushed beneath his bulk, Thomas considered the battle. They were doing well -
BOOM.
X X X
The lawnmower used his tractor beam to slow Thomas’s flight to a manageable level. The robotic polar bear slammed into a tree. One of his limbs broke off, and his chassis gave an ominous creak. Almost all of the White Fang were down, but the two that were left had made short work of the rest of the drones and had devastated the impromptu defences his creator had set up.
The lawnmower braced himself for battle. Both of the targets were at least S Tier with Aura signatures measured in tens of thousands the capacity of normal civilians. Simply put, he was not equipped for battle of this level. Nevertheless, he would continue to do his best.
He unleashed his shotguns again, only to have them dodged. Scowling, he switched to lasers. They were far faster but less able to do damage. The attacks were ignored, and he found himself crushed into the ground as his shields flared to halt an attack that would have turned a typical truck into a tin can. The pressure on his shields increased, and the ground gave way beneath him. This was enough force to reduce a house to kindling, and it was only increasing.
The other high-level White Fang headed for the house. The lawnmower bit back a curse. He was currently unable to intervene. Thomas shambled back onto his feet and fired a salvo of bullets that were dodged with contemptuous ease.
The lawnmower gave the mental equivalent of a sneer.
The would-be assassins were getting overconfident.
There was a reason his creator’s wife had yet to intervene.
X X X
Lumina had to fight the urge to wade into battle as the beach house’s defences were destroyed and both Thomas and the lawnmower found themselves on the receiving end of beat downs. Thomas was barely functional, and the lawnmower was only still in one piece thanks to the absurdly strong shields Vanille had given him.
But there was a reason for this.
In battle between S Tier individuals and higher, the first blow could often be the decisive one since people with that kind of power could generally warp combat in their favour so heavily that regaining the initiative became impossible.
As one of the assassins ran toward the house, Lumina readied her attack. It was a monomolecular ribbon of Aura reinforced with a full twenty percent of her total Aura reserves. Her target continued to rush forward, and Lumina struck. In a split-second, the ribbon wrapped around the White Fang member.
There was a brilliant flash as her opponent’s Aura flared to try to protect them, but Lumina gestured sharply. The ribbon tightened. Had the ribbon been wider, the Aura in it would not have been as densely concentrated. Her opponent, who was certainly skilled and powerful, had already instinctive deployed a dense, full-body protective shell of Aura.
It was actually more Aura than Lumina had put into the ribbon, which meant her opponent had some very impressive Aura reserves in their own right. But Lumina’s Aura was concentrated over a far smaller area. The result? Her Aura ribbon sliced through her opponent’s protective shell in a quarter of a second before tightening around them.
Lumina didn’t hesitate. She let the ribbon tighten completely, and her opponent fell to the ground in pieces.
With her opponent dead, Lumina turned her attention back to the lawnmower. His shields had finally given way, and his battered form flew threw the air. She used a sliver of her Aura to form a net to catch him. Despite the damage he’d taken, he continued to shell away with his shotguns and lasers. He even fired a few nets.
Her last opponent dodged all of the projectiles with ease. They were good. Very good. Just then, her communicator blinked. It was a signal from Vanille. Lumina took a step forward and gestured. Swords and spears of Aura rained down on her opponent.
Stifling pressure formed and then erupted outward - some form of air or gravity manipulation - and she leapt back to avoid the worst of the blast. Instinctively, she formed a sphere around herself, and just in time as her enemy launched a barrage of projectiles at her at super sonic speeds.
Lumina replied in kind only for her projectiles to be batted aside. Interesting. Why had her opponent dodged the lawnmower’s attacks? Was it to conserve power for fighting against her?
Lumina shook her head. She could worry about that later. Right now, she needed to keep her opponent occupied. She unleashed another barrage and then created a monomolecular net. Her opponent must have seen what had happened earlier, and they threw themselves clear.
Which was exactly what Vanille was waiting for.
X X X
Vanille took a split-second to check her aim. Having a binding rod that could transform into a rail gun was great.
X X X
Lumina bit back a smirk as her opponent’s Aura flared. A projectile slammed into her at roughly thirty times the speed of sound. The impact sent out a shockwave that would have knocked any normal person over, and the explosion that followed courtesy of the projectile’s exotic payload lit up the whole night.
Extending her senses, Lumina was only faintly surprised that her opponent was still alive. However, their Aura reserves were far lower than they had been. As her enemy struggled to get their bearings back, Lumina rained more Aura constructs down on her. They fought to fend off the assault, but Lumina wasn’t done. A tiny, incredibly thin snare formed and tangled around her opponent’s right ankle. She tightened it, and her opponent’s foot came off. They screamed, and their focuse wavered. A split-second later they went down, impaled by dozens of Aura constructed. Lumina beheaded them just to be sure.
“Any other threats?” she asked the lawnmower.
X X X
The lawnmower scanned the area. There was no point hiding anymore. His powerful active scanners swept over the surrounding terrain. There were no more remaining targets. However, just to be sure, he dispatched the few remaining drones into a defensive formation and had them run their own scans.
That done, he trundled toward Thomas. The polar bear was badly damaged, to the point that he could no longer move under his own power. The lawnmower stopped at his side and began repairs. They would have to acquire new components to get him fully operational again, but he should be able to fix Thomas up enough for the robotic polar bear to control his own movement again. Thankfully, his most important components had survived serious damage.
X X X
Author’s Notes
One of the best shots the White Fang had at Vanille. The attack team consisted of two S Tier or higher hunters, several A Tier or higher and everyone else was B Tier. However, Thomas is exceptionally tough, and the lawnmower was designed with anti-hunter combat in mind. The attack team was also put together with Lumina and Vanille in mind. They were not prepared for Thomas, the lawnmower, and a garden that had been trapped. Even without Thomas and the lawnmower, Lumina and Vanille could have won, but it would have been a tricky fight.
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Journal 6
Today was another long day. Another very long day. I don’t even know how to begin to express how much happened today.
We broke fate.
We did what we came to the Grey Garrison to do and according to a higher being we weren’t actually meant to have done that but we did anyways and it changed everything. It changed an entire timeline. We did that. I’m still processing that.
Let me start from the top.
We made for Old Kenabres first thing in the morning. We were given a number of supplies from Arashniaval for our strike force, while Horgus was using his own funds to supply the main troops. The Silver Legion and the units Commander Tirabade had been able to muster rode ahead and drew away the brunt of the demonic forces, leaving the Grey Garrison mostly unguarded. The Commander did not join the forces drawing distraction, however. She would be fighting alongside us to reclaim the shard of the Wardstone from Deskari’s hands. And she was not the only one. This morning the envoy the Commander sent down to speak with the First Descendants returned as well. And they came alongside forces from below ground lead by Lann, ready to join the fight against the demon scourge. Lann and a number of his rangers joined our strike team. Each of us paired up with a ranger, with the group deciding I should team up with Lann since I was the captain of this mission. I had no arguments there. Lann proved to be a very capable marksman. Even without cold iron arrows he managed to do some damage to some of the demons we faced, which is more than I could say for most people.
If we ever have a moment when we aren’t fighting for our lives for once, I wouldn’t mind having a chance to chat with him outside of life-threatening situations. Lann seems like a good guy. But apparently my life is going to be getting really busy really soon, so that’s probably not in the cards.
As we approached the grey garrison, we saw two sentries. We identified the twisted reanimated mockeries as vermleks, parasitic demons who puppeteer corpses of the dead. The victims in question were High Commander Hulrun, and the head of Nyserian Manor ironically enough. It would seem Lord Nyserian met with a terrible fate when he presented Commander Tirabade’s sword to the demons, in a bid to try to get safe passage and a position of power. We found proof later that this was their punishment for him not giving it to them sooner. Serves a coward and a traitor right, for the innocent blood on his hands.
My feelings about Hulrun are more complicated. He was a powerful crusader. He should have been able to stand up against the demons as a symbol of strength against the tide of evil. Instead he was felled and turned into a mockery. So I found what they did despicable and I wanted to put him to rest. But I also never found him to be the height of what we could stand for. He was no Irabeth Tirabade. At one time he was a paranoid man who brought out the worst in our people for many years. He led the witch hunts, which may have been a little before my time, but the effects of which still echo down. I…deeply fear what would happen if anyone found out about the mark I keep under wraps.
Whether he truly become better or simply had others who advised him to tone it down, I will likely never know now. And quite frankly it doesn’t matter, as he is dead and we have more pressing matters than the past to contend with.
Speaking of that accursed mark, it was bleeding a stream of blood worse than ever before, and burning like someone had taken a hot iron to it. I couldn’t help but flinch, and the others couldn’t help but notice the bandages that were already stained red before we had even entered battle. I…promised to explain later. And I suppose I will have to, if it’s going to cause so much blood that I cannot hide it around so many demons. I will have to find a new method. Perhaps a bracer of some kind…
Hiskaria asked ‘you too’ when I started rubbing at my arm initially, and showed me a mark on her back. It was not anything near the same as the festering mark on my wrist. She had some sort of large glowing spiral birthmark on her back. Although there was one thing in common I found: both appeared the day our families died. Hers was reacting here as well, which was apparently abnormal. Hers had something to do with the Riftwardens—which now that I think about it she’d kept buddying up to Arashniaval frequently, going to him to comfort him when he thought the Riftwardens died despite just meeting him, and he’d reacted to her in surprise when we’d first met her.
For now, however, we needed to focus on the mission as hand. There were two demon sentries. If we took them out fast, we might not alert the entire temple of our presence right away. Luna did her usual thing, going invisible and sneaking up on one, getting a good swing in on it, although not enough to destroy its host. Commander Tirabade charged in behind her, stabbing it, and Melody joined her.
Hiskaria and I focused on the other. Radiance was more insistent than ever that these demons be cleansed—the bodies of the faithful needed to be freed and put to rest properly.
These creatures took a beating and still remained standing, sending wave after wave of negative energy through us with mass inflict wounds. The Commander cut down the one who was possessing Hulrun—trying to be respectful of the dead, although once Luna got started insulting him for the witch hunts it was hard for any of us to not agree with her points that the man was kind of an ass. Still, the demon was dead and I’d at least follow Radiance’s request to lay his body to rest later, even he deserved that much.
The other demon devoured its host, but was then skewered through on Melody’s glaive, leaving the courtyard outside the temple silent.
Then Melody looked up. She told us in a hushed voice that she saw her goddess’ songbird. But also a twisted being who looked like a humanoid woman with a clawed locust’s arm. An oracle of Deskari. And probably a powerful one at that if her body was twisted in such a manner.
This would be no easy task. But we needed to get to the wardstone and destroy it, to keep it from being used as a weapon and turning our own symbol of protection against our unsuspecting men and women on the front lines. Whether it would be easy or not didn’t matter.
Luna slipped ahead of us, practically vanishing as she pulled her hood over her head and she seemed to become one with the shadows with her mastery of stealth. I focused on Iomedae’s blessings, using her mastery of the warrior’s ways to try to keep up with my swift footed companion.
A fight had already broken out by the time I arrived. Luna had snuck up behind a tiefling cultist and liberated his head from his shoulders. The rest had tried to swarm her, but she was not an easy woman to harm in such a way. Lann shot an arrow into the fray, catching the attention of one of the tieflings and drawing him out of the room to me, which I swiftly cut down. The rest were taken care of by Hiskaria’s arrows and Luna and Melody’s blades.
Now that we were inside of the temple, Radiance’s energy was feeling more insistent than usual. They told me that this was once a temple to Iomedae, and it should be cleansed and returned to its former glory. I got the sense that they meant immediately, not after we got rid of the demons. At first as I cleared the demons I argued with Radiance, telling the sword that I needed them to be patient—if we tried to cleanse the temple before we got rid of all the demons, the demons would just desecrate it again.
What made me change my mind was the room with the arms.
I am not going to describe the room with the arms. Just know that…the demons and their cultists made some very visceral and disgusting idols in mockery of our holy places.
I was ambushed by several cultists of Deskari in that room. Which was a veeeeeery good way to get some very recently acquired bad feelings out of my system. With some help from the others, we cleared out the three cultists who thought they would be adding me to their sick idol. Sick bastards.
Then Melody opened a door. And got a bomb right in the face.
Because alchemists suck like that.
Luna went in with her axe, but the man had a spell on that made hitting him difficult, he shifted around the attacks, our visuals on him were blurred and difficult to see correctly. Hiskaria got a bright idea, and cast magic missile on him.
I liked that idea, and produced a wand of magic missile we’d been given by Arashniaval, and did the same. Between the two of us and Luna, we beat away at the alchemist. He used a smoke bomb to try to hide from the missiles. Hiskaria got in closer, drew fire from him, and was able to give me enough of an idea of where he was that I could get up in his face and cast it once more. Which was all we needed.
From there we only had one way to go. Which was behind a locked door Luna was having difficulty opening. We decided to work together to smash through it. With Luna taking point, we threw everything we had into it, and finally managed to burst the door.
Straight into a room with a tiefling and three dretches.
It wasn’t actually that difficult. Luna ran past the dretches and took on the tiefling. Commander Tirabade and Melody took on the dretch nearest the door, which I used the Commander’s shield for cover to slip in and attack the one next to her, Radiance giving me a particularly spectacular moment killing the dretch in a single swing. The final dretch tried to flee, but Luna took a swing at it as it did, then ran after it and ended it before it could try to warn anyone on the second floor.
We were a little bruised, but not so much that we felt like we needed to sound the retreat yet.
Radiance was even more insistent, and I was feeling a bit twitchy after the aforementioned room as well. I requested some time to clear out the bottom floor before we continued on. The others agreed, as it would give them some time to check for anything of value on the bodies they may have missed.
So, I got to work. First clearing out the…aforementioned room. Doing burial rites for the desecrated bodies and for Hulrun while I was at it. Then I cleaned the prayer room. Which had an interesting engraving in celestial, although I cannot read the language. I recalled that Gabrielle could as an aasimar, although I didn’t want to make assumptions given how different Luna is—so I asked if anyone in our group could speak the language. As fortune would have it, Luna did speak celestial, and was willing to help, despite needing to kneel before the alter to see the engraving properly. She would not tell me what it said, instead, she went over to a glowing outline of a doorway we’d noticed in the other room, and spoke the words, “Let us inherit thine arms, Iomedae.” The doorway swung open. Inside was an amazing armory. Cold iron weapons of all kinds, an enchanted longsword, sturdy shields, and a gorgeous breastplate with Iomedae’s holy symbol emblazoned across it. I feel speed is what we needed more than heavy armor at the moment, or I would have gladly donned it.
I also may have hesitated because I think it looked like that sort of think Auriel would have liked. I feel like I remember him mentioning he intended to get something similar to this at some point. Or maybe that’s just me projecting. I don’t know.
Anyways.
After that was done we cleaned up the museum, in which we found an adamantine morningstar of all things. Would have been useful for that door earlier. We gave it to Luna. Adamantine with her strength will be useful I’m certain.
With everything cleaned up and Radiance a bit quieter, we decided to head up to the second floor.
The second floor was almost blood bath. I…kind of don’t remember a lot of the fight that happened here. It was a blur, and I went down a few times. A lot of times. They really had it out for me. For obvious reasons, I was the only Iomedaen in the room. And possibly because of the accursed mark on my arm, who knows? What I do know is, we got upstairs. Melody got besieged on all sides, and the moment one of the tiefling cultists died, we heard the voice of the oracle. And she summoned a swarm of locusts from the tiefling’s body, which attacked Melody on his death, badly injurying her with negative energy. I ended up running in and putting myself in between her and some of the other enemies with the intention of drawing some attention away from her. Which worked. Unfortunately it worked a little too well. I got swarmed by tieflings and Deskari cultists, and when Melody or Heskaria killed one the oracle would cause the locust swarms to pull the life from me. I went in and out of consciousness more than a few times here. I was lucky the Commander was here. She and Hiskaria kept me alive. Between Commander Tirabade’s lay on hand’s and Hiskaria’s wand of cure moderate wounds she’d picked up somewhere along the way. I definitely owed her one. I guess as her ‘acting captain’ I’m putting in a few good words for her for sure at this point.
When the swarm of enemies died down, we began looking around a bit more. We found a room with a bowl of water and—viscera—with zombies milling about. We took care of them with literally no issue. Radiance once again began insisting on immediately consecrating the room, and I once again told them that we needed to wait until we knew there was nothing nastier on this floor after what we’d just dealt with, if the oracle could reach out through her followers up here. Radiance didn’t like that answer, but conceded that it was my choice either way. Good. Maybe Luna was onto something with putting my foot down with them.
Melody was standing near a door looking a bit spooked, and as I approached she quietly told me something was on the other side talking in her mind. She described it, and I reasoned out that it was a Schir demon due to the sound of gnawing on metal she heard. We decided to let Luna go in first, as it was probably prepared but to my knowledge they couldn’t see those who were invisible. So she downed another potion and slipped inside, getting a good stab at him before he could react. Unfortunately, he proved a bit more damaging than expected, and we heard Luna calling for someone to help her out. I was planning to join her, since demon slaying is kind of my specialty. But then something else burst from the door behind me. A strange chimera creature. Not a demon, but an evil intelligent beast working with them. A peryton. The creature bared its fanged in something between a smile and a snarl as it greeted me, before lashing out, knocking me against the wall and dashing any hope of me going to Luna’s aid.
Fortunately, both Melody and Commander Tirabade were able to help Luna, while Hiskaria put some arrows into the creature attacking me. The Commander apparently killed the demon, then Luna charged out of the room and with a single swing of her axe beheaded the peryton.
The rest of the floor was so easily cleared out I legitimately don’t even remember what the creatures in the last room were. Some kind of insect or spider that caused darkness, but Luna was able to cast light due to her aasimar bloodline and dispel it. I blocked the doorway to protect Melody and let Hiskaria and Melody take shots at them until I was hurting too badly to continue that tactic, then stepped aside for Luna the clean up the rest.
After that was done, Luna began going through some papers that she had seen the cultists looking over before. I began clearing out the room the zombies had been in that Radiance had reacted to. And the others began checking the other rooms for anything that might be useful or important.
After I cleared and purified the water in the bowl it became immediately obvious that it was a scrying dish, as it activated on its own. It had two things to show me. First, was Leto and Commander Spriggans. They were in the middle of the demon hordes, separated from their unit. They were fighting valiantly, and they didn’t look worse for the wear at the moment. But with their positioning, I knew if I called the retreat now, they might get left behind. They might end up stuck behind enemy lines. Or worse, overwhelmed and killed.
Before I had time to process that, a second vision was granted. This one a bit closer to where we were. It was of the oracle, upstairs. She was panicking. Pacing, muttering to herself “fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck”, terrified of how quickly we were tearing through her forces, of how quickly we were making our way to her and undoing all her work. The angle of the scry then panned out, showing me the room outside, allowing me to see the fiendish minotaur guarding the door to her chambers. It gave me a good idea of what we were going to be facing when we went up there. It was a tiny room to be dealing with such a large creature, not much room to maneuver. Not much room to get Luna into a flanking position.
But more importantly, we’d been planning to call the retreat after this floor. Because we were all exhausted. We were low on magic. We were low on healing. We were hurting. But if we did that, we were going to put Leto and Commander Spriggans in danger.
I had to make a call. Retreat. Put the mission and the people in front of me first and risk Leto. Or push forward, risk everything so I could try to bring everyone back safe. Assuming I didn’t get everyone killed doing so.
I was paralyzed with indecision.
The others were talking about various things they’d found. A list of traitors here and elsewhere, which was useful. Some other things I honestly was too distracted at the time to really process. Then Luna started talking about how we ought to head out if we were going to call the retreat and get back to Defender’s heart, since we were getting tired. Melody and Hiskaria agreed.
I stopped them. I told them to wait. I explained I’d seen something in the scrying room, and I explained what I’d seen and why it was a problem for retreating. But also why not retreating was a problem.
Luna said she didn’t give a damn, and said on the count of three everyone raise their hand who voted to keep going. All three of them did.
I—was speechless. I am not so proud as to think they did not understand how much of a risk they were taking pushing forward. They knew how much they were risking, and what they were doing, to keep Leto safe. A man they’ve barely even met once, but who they knew was important to me.
I owe them. More than I can begin to repay. But I am going to start, as best I can.
After I finished cleansing the second floor, we made our plan for how to deal with the third. We knew that the oracle was not at her best. We also knew how the minotaur’s room was laid out. We decided to use this to our advantage. There wasn’t much room to maneuver—not even enough for us to bring our ranger companions along, we had them watch our backs and stay on the second floor—but there was just enough to possibly get Luna in behind him if we played our cards right.
Luna drank another invisibility potion, and crept ahead of us. We waited for half a minute, then followed, with Melody in the lead. The plan was for her to lure the beast forward, as she was the only one with a weapon that could reach as far as the minotaur’s. She would stand in the stairwell and taunt the beast until it charged her, then Luna would step behind it and attack the moment its back was no longer to the door.
The plan worked. It worked exactly like we’d planned. Except for one problem. I didn’t see it for myself, I was still in the stairwell. But I heard about it afterwards. When the beast began to lumber forward, Luna stepped in to attack. She landed a devastating blow, drawing her axe up from the bottom of its spine to its neck. The creature stopped, and swung around, and its own axe swung into Luna. The fiendish creature put a smite into the blow, and its full strength behind it. With a single swing, Luna crumpled. I didn’t see the attack, but I saw the end result. There was blood everywhere.
Commander Tirabade charged in, and ended the beast’s life in a single final stroke, Luna having nearly ended it with her single blow. This left the room clear for Hiskaria to run in and use her wand to heal Luna back to her feet, and Melody to finish getting her back up. By the time I reached her, she looked good as new, if not a little shaken or perhaps just displeased that her blow hadn’t killed the beast outright. There was blood splattered across everything.
I really owe Luna after all this is over, with how close that was.
Then Luna suggested we do that again for the next room. We went to argue. I wondered if maybe she’d taken some head trauma on top of the axe wound. But she pointed out that technically the plan worked fine—she’d just gotten unlucky with the minotaur’s axe. She was pretty sure the same wouldn’t happen a second time with this panicky oracle. And this time we’d all be right outside the door.
I hated to admit it, but the plan had worked pretty well. And getting Luna in the room and flanking the oracle would be the best way to ensure she went down quickly. So we all agreed. Luna drank another potion and vanished, then we opened the door.
The oracle laughed manically when she saw us, her eyes wild and desperate. She was a twisted disgusting thing, her form warped into some sort of half-elf/locust combination by Deskari’s magic. I wouldn’t have even recognized her as a fellow half-elf myself if Luna hadn’t said something earlier when one of us was describing her. I am glad that the taint that this mark on my arm has left on me has done no such thing, I much prefer my face and arm as they are thank you.
The oracle—whose name I felt no particular urge to memorize, my apologies, I think it would have galled her to know she wasn’t that important—warned us to stay back. She asked where Luna was, to which Melody claimed that she’d been killed by the minotaur. One look at the bloodied room seemed to be enough to convince her of the truth of that, as she laughed in our faces at our folly. She motioned, and two portals appeared. What appeared to be two babau demons appeared, with Leto and Commander Spriggans held hostage. She warned that she would have them killed if we didn’t retreat and let her finish her work.
I…admit to not thinking straight here. I froze. Obviously, I knew we couldn’t just throw down our arms, not when so many lives were at stake with the wardstone right there. But I also wasn’t about to throw my brother and commander to the wolves.
Thankfully, Melody was much more clear-sighted than I. She ran forward, and attacked one of the supposed demons. The illusion around them flickered and vanished, revealing the truth underneath. Two constructs, which had created the illusory demons—and the illusions of Leto and Commander Spriggans, who were not there at all.
I was incensed at the trickery. I realized then that the desecrated scrying chamber had very likely been to look for someone one of us cared about to use against us, and she had chosen Leto. This kind of construct could only be used with an illusion preprogrammed into it—which meant they knew what to put in ahead of time, and someone elsewhere had put it in and sent it over. The constructs had the holy symbol of Sivanah emblazoned on them, so it seemed someone within their church was responsible. According to Luna, it was Lady Salzala. I’m inclined to believe her. Apparently, the mummified locust with the book she stole the day we met was addressed to her as well, so a lot of things keep pointing back in her direction. Commander Tirabade said she left with a contingent of her men on ‘business’ after the attack, so it would appear she fled the scene.
Unfortunately, her name was not amongst the ones in the documents Luna found naming traitors, so we lack any further evidence, although the Commander is going to look into it further.
With the bluff called, we attacked. Luna appeared as she swung her axe at the twisted locust oracle. Both Luna and the oracle looked surprised for a moment, I didn’t catch what either said, but then the oracle used a spell to teleport across the room.
While Melody and I focused on her and Luna dealt with the constructs that had flanked her, Hiskaria had a different idea in mind. She swung around, avoiding the fight entirely, and pulled out the rod of cancellation we’d been given to destroy the Wardstone. We were here to do a job, and she was going to make sure it got done, one way or another.
The oracle cried out, but it was too late. Hiskaria pushed past whatever last defenses the final piece of the wardstone may have had, and it shattered in a blinding flash. Shards rained down around us like meteors in miniature. They ripped the oracle and her constructs to shreds, but miraculously the rest of us were untouched—whenever they came near us, they redirected, whooshing around as if we had our own little gravity field and then being thrown in another direction.
Then everything went white. Me, Luna, Melody, and Hiskaria found ourselves in this place alone, Commander Tirabade was nowhere to be seen. Radiance floated before us, pulsing with energy, their blade face down. They spoke, and as they did we began to see visions of what they spoke of. Visions of things past. Of how the Wardstone came to be. Of Commander Tirabade and Stauton Vhagn…apparently former friends, before his betrayal. Of the Stormlord’s first attack on the Wardstone, and then Stauton’s betrayal and escape from the city. And then the most recent attack on the stone, the one that shattered it and brought us together. The attack that killed Trendalor—we know for certain now that the city’s defender is dead, his body stolen away by demons. And then we saw various demons guarding the stone, each powerful entity growing bored with their post and handing it off to one below them, until finally it fell to the oracle, who paced the room fearfully, knowing what would happen to her should she fail at our hands.
Then we saw what was supposed to happen next. The fate that we avoided. The time that was meant to come to pass, but didn’t. Arelu Vorlesh stepped from a portal with a purple crystal in hand, and began corrupting the Wardstone. And she succeeded. Dark tendrils spread through the land, they infected the crusaders through their connection to the divine within the Wardstone, and it twisted and warped them all into half-fiend monstrosities under Deskari’s power. Deskari’s army grew into a force all that more unstoppable, bolstered by our own men whose lives and souls were ripped away all at once.
Then the vision shattered, and we saw what had happened when we shattered the Wardstone instead. A great wave of golden energy swept across the land, destroying countless demons in its wake. Not obliterating their forces, unfortunately—more will come crawling from the Worldwound in the days to come, but it’s still a mighty blow that should buy us some time to regroup after what they did to Kenabres. A nice bit of divine retribution for those who have died.
Radiance spoke to us again. Or, the Spirit of the Hall of Heroes. I couldn’t quite tell if this was the exact same being as the one who spoke to me through the blade. I do recall Radiance referring to themself as the Spirit of the Hall of Heroes before, so likely the same? Radiance is less of a mouthful and easier to write, though. Maybe just ‘The Spirit’ for now, to avoid confusion, because I still had a version of Radiance to use in what was to come as well.
The Spirit drew a glowing blade of light from what had appeared to be Radiance’s blade, and pointed it at us. They told us to show them that we were worthy of the power to defy fate itself. Then they took the form of a man wielding a polearm and the form of a crystalline phoenix formed before them. And flames erupted around us.
Hiskaria did what she does best and peppered him with arrows. I patched myself up with some quick healing and tried to come in for an attack, but their form shifted again, this time into a tiefling man with a large hexagonal shield and he blocked my blow. However since I was harrying them, Luna was about to come around behind him and get a blow of her own off with her axe. Their form shifted to a human woman with a similar axe in an attempt to block, but Luna’s attack managed to get through. Then the spirit’s form shattered. They reformed their crystalline body farther in the white void—now an elven woman with a bow, and began shooting off rapid deadly arrow shots at us that made Hiskaria’s already deadly aim look like a child’s shooting.
We went with the same tactic as before, with Hiskaria shooting from afar, Melody charging in with her glaive, myself healing and sweeping in to flank with Luna, and finally Luna dealing a crippling blow to the crystalline Spirit. The being’s form shattered, underneath was a second form, somewhat like an elven man in appearance, although still made of crystal, holding a staff with twisting gears, the only part of them not crystalline. They tapped the staff, and everything was tugged backwards, returned to how it had been when the fight had first begun. The Spirit sheathed their blade. They asked each of us in turn what we were fighting for, and in turn each of us gave our personal answer.
For me…the answer’s always been the same. I want to protect people. To defend those who are less powerful from the demons, be it with a shield or at the end of a blade.
The Spirit acknowledged us as worthy of the power that had fallen into our laps—and as such they were going to return us to that moment in time, and, as he put it, ‘allow you the power you were nearly denied’.
I found myself back in the moment when the Wardstone was exploding. Shards were flying everywhere. This time, however, a piece hit me, square in the chest. Unlike the oracle and her constructs, it didn’t tear me apart. Instead, an energy flowed through every part of my being, all at once. Through my body, my blood, and my very soul. The other three experienced the same.
We didn’t have time to talk about it, or to wonder at it. As the explosion died down, a portal opened before us. One we’d already seen once before, in a vision, mere moments ago. What felt like mere moments ago, in that white void. Out stepped Arelu Vorlesh, one of Deskari’s generals, in the flesh. She was holding that same purple crystal that she’d had in the vision. She commented on the fact that we’d destroyed the Wardstone that she’d intended to use—but that its power lived on within us, and she would just have to corrupt us instead. Then she activated the crystal. There was a terrible sensation, like something cold and oily trying to take hold of my soul. Commander Tirabade charged Vorlesh, but she cast a spell that began to suffocate her, and she went unconscious in moments. Apparently it was meant to hit all of us, but the Wardstone’s power had protected us. Unfortunately its power was not protecting us from the purple crystal’s power, and we were frozen to the spot. I…was certain we were done for.
Then a blue hand reached out through Vorlesh’s portal. A light from Radiance’s crystal streaked out through her and into that being’s hand. Something was cast, and Arelu Vorlesh was left badly injured, and we were freed. Vorlesh fled. We didn’t ever get a good look at the other being.
Radiance has been silent since.
I can’t say for certain. But I think Auriel saved us. Some piece of his soul. Some version of him. I don’t know. It’s the only explanation I have. That light was in Radiance because of Auriel’s soul, so if it went to that being, it had to have been. Somehow. I know that’s weirdly optimistic of me. I’m not the sort to cling to thinking people spontaneously come back from the dead, especially people whose souls shatter on death. But—I mean Auriel was literally the Chosen One. If anyone was going to come back, right?
Anyways, Radiance doesn’t talk to me anymore. Or can’t, more likely, just like the whole ‘can’t choose Irabeth over you’ thing. But they haven’t flayed my hands, either. I think the whole ‘breaking fate’ thing means I’m able to bend the rules on the whole chosen one thing. Or maybe having a little divine power from the wardstone’s what did it. Who knows. I’m glad. If I’m honest, I’ve gotten a little attached. As much as they’ve gotten on my nerves and the whole ‘flay you alive’ thing pissed me off, I’m actually kind of sad that I can’t hear them now. For one thing, it was the last little connection to Auriel we had. I have no idea if they can hear me or if they’re in some kind of hibernation now. I’ve still been talking to them a bit. Like a crazy person, yeah, yeah.
Anyways, it wasn’t over with Vorlesh leaving. She decided to leave a parting gift. A whole swarm of babau demons. Real ones, not a bunch of illusions over constructs. Babaus are quite a bit stronger than the dretches and vermleks we’d been fighting. Under any other circumstances, we’d have definitely been overwhelmed and killed by a swarm of eight of them.
Instead, they couldn’t even touch us. I mean it, there wasn’t a scratch on us when we left. We completely overpowered these demons that should have easily outclassed us. The wardstone’s powers completely suffused our every action, everything we did seemed to be at the most perfect it could be. I cannot begin to describe to you how it feels to completely annihilate demons that should be such fearsome foes without risking going into territory that may start sounding like It’s bordering blasphemy, so I think I’ll reel it back a bit.
Afterwards, we healed the Commander, and began making our way back to Defender’s Heart. On the way, Hiskaria told us that apparently the very supportive voice in her head was apparently her goddess, Cassandalee. I’d never heard of her before, but Melody had. She was apparently more of a Numerian goddess, one of love, redemption, artifice, and good. Strange that she hadn’t gotten bigger in the 300 years she’s been around if redemption’s in her portfolio since there’s been a big need for that all things considered, since Valoria didn’t pick that up from Sarenrae. But I suppose since her main followers are apparently androids maybe she wasn’t really able to spread much outside her home base, so to speak.
Then the others decided to start hounding me as we walked back. I thought it would be about my arm, considering that seemed like the most pressing thing to ask about. But no. Apparently Luna and Melody had gotten it into their heads that Leto and I are an item. Really! I tried vehemently to correct them, that they really had the wrong idea, that we grew up together and I think of him more like a brother, but for whatever reason they still seem really unconvinced. Maybe if I send them Leto’s way he can talk some sense into them. No. He’ll probably just get them more wound up and release them back on me for the laughs. I tried to get Hiskaria to try to talk some sense into them, but she said since Cassandalee is a goddess of love she felt like it was now her sworn duty to not get in the way of this kind of talk. So now I have a Shelynite and Hiskaria to deal with about this kind of thing. Great!
Anyways. With the demons destroyed by the shockwave, there was no reason to worry about Leto and Commander Spriggans’ safety anymore. I’ll tell Leto about these shenanigans some other day. Tonight, I’m too exhausted to even think about going down there and drinking. Sleep. Sleep sounds good.
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Misconceptions, Miscommunication, and Misinformation Pt67
Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU
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“How many times?” Ladybug could see the strain on Viperion’s face and guilt ate at her. This was a big part of why she’d stopped using him unless absolutely necessary. The mental toll it had to take on him to see them all injured or dead and be the only one to remember was a heavy burden and she didn’t like that it fell to Luka of all people. He gave her a reassuring smile.
“Twelve so far, but I think we’re close. He’s only got so many tricks and we’re weeding them out quickly.” For all he sounded positive and upbeat she could still hear a rawness under the words. Anyone else would miss it, though given the way Damian was side eyeing him, he heard it too. Given the way the snake holder was looking at Discorde she could guess which of the four of them had taken the brunt of the damage.
“Your plan is obviously not working. We should retreat and come up with something better now that we have more data.” She managed to keep from rolling her eyes at Damian, but only barely. Leaving now was one of the worst things they could do.
“We have data about the here and now but that will be worse than useless if we leave now Raphael.” He frowned at the name but she just grinned at him. He’d point blank refused to pick a name so she’d gone with the surliest of the turtles she knew. He didn’t understand the reference and that just made it funnier. “If we stop learning new things and still can’t find a way to defeat him then, and only then, will we leave. The man is too desperate for us to give him time to act without terrible consequences.” He didn’t look happy but he did stay silent. They didn’t have much time to plan before they had to go back in. Luka’s timer currently gave them about half an hour for each attempt and they couldn’t afford to waste too much time arguing.
Damian’s transformation was interesting to say the least. His suit was a dark forest green with overlapping armored plates. His shield was larger than Carapace’s had been and had far more utility. The top was more squared off and the rim could detach into two boomerangs allowing him to fight in a ranged capacity while still defending. The rest of the shield could also be split down the middle so he could block attacks from two different directions at once as well as use them to ram enemies. She wasn’t surprised that his transformation was so much more combat oriented than Wayzz normally did.
“Red Robin, plan sea green with rooftop access.” Viperion went straight into reporting mode and she heard Tim muttering while trying to pull up one of his many contingencies.
“Are you sure? If I don’t that you won’t be able to see.” Given that He was the one that had to give Luka the name it was a less than intelligent question, but he answered anyway.
“Discorde will be able to and that’s the most important thing to begin with.We’ll go in through that hatch and drop on him. Discorde, you need to Cataclysm his cane immediately and then tell Red Robin to turn on low lighting so the rest of us can help.” Ladybug shared a frown with Damian.
“Why is the cane so important?” Viperion actually shuddered before responding.
“It houses a sword that can pierce our suits and your cure won’t fix the damage if he’s still wielding his Miraculous. I don’t know why.” She heard Discorde suck in a breath but all she felt was tired and sad.
“Nooroo’s been used improperly for too long, his will is starting to yield to Gabriel’s. If he gives up entirely there’s not telling how powerful Gabriel will become. The cane is the only weapon you’re aware of?” He just nodded and she knew that there hadn’t been time for her to give him a more detailed plan. “Okay, so Discorde goes in and disarms him and we drop in once there’s enough light that we won’t trip over each other. Raphael will put up a shield around the three of us and Gabriel with Viperion on the other side so that we have better odds taking him down.”
She could tell no one was happy with the plan. Viperion understood the necessity of keeping him out of danger, but he hated watching from the sidelines and she knew it. Damian and his brother couldn’t stand the uncertainty of it all. Discorde was close to just Cataclysming Gabriel to put an end to things, or maybe come up with something like what she did to Superman. The second might become necessary if they didn’t end this soon. Actually…
“Discorde, do you think you can come up with something for Gabriel like you did Superman? Something that will make him too weak physically to actually fight us.” She frowned and cocked her head as though listening to something.
“I can try but I’m not sure if it will work the same on another holder. Plagg gave me specific instructions on what to do for the Super Pain but I can try.” Ladybug hummed in thought before turning to Viperion.
“We’ll go in full force this time but if things go south and you have to reset again tell us to have Discorde try from inside the vent before we go after him next time.” He gave a single nod before leading them to the roof access for the vent. She took a calming breath before pulling off the cover. Time for lucky number thirteen.
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