#ash crawler

[thecreaturecodex]

Ash Crawler

"Rat" © deviantArt user Lakoh, accessed at his gallery here

[A new year means new projects, and one of these new projects is inspired by my picking up a copy of the Basic D&D Creature Catalogue from a used book store. I've mentioned before that Basic D&D feels something like a parallel dimension for someone who grew up on AD&D. So what better way to start than with a decidedly odd take on the tabletop staple of Rodents of Unusual Size?]

Ash Crawler CR 2 N Magical Beast This creature is a grey, hairless rodent the size of a small dog. It has a flattened, hog-like snout and sharp teeth. Its tail is twice as long as its body.

Ash crawlers are extremophile rodents that live in arid, fiery environments, such as volcanoes and in the wake of wildfires. They are attracted to the heat of fire, and may approach campsites and bonfires in order to bask. They are omnivorous, feeding on seeds and tubers that survive fires as well as flesh. They can digest charred meat and scavenge in the wake of fires as well as hunting for themselves. They are curious creatures, and use their prehensile tails to forage, play and fight. Ash crawlers sometimes live in small family units if food is common, but split up to live independently in leaner times.

Ash crawlers often nest in caves and the hollows of burnt trees, and it is if cornered here that they are most likely to fight man-sized creatures. Ash crawlers shed frequently, and their shed mixes with natural ashes to create deep ash drifts that they burrow inside. Creatures stomping through these ash drifts, such as those looking for treasure or hoping to shelter in the cave, run the risk of being attacked. Ash crawlers pull opponents to ground level with their tails, and then latch on with their strong jaws.

An ash crawler is about six feet long, but two thirds of that is their long prehensile tails.

Ash Crawler CR 2 XP 600 N Small magical beast Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception +5, scent

Defense AC 14, touch 13, flat-footed 12 (+1 size, +2 Dex, +1 natural) hp 19 (3d10+3) Fort +5, Ref +6, Will +2 Resist fire 20

Offense Speed 20 ft. Melee bite +6 (1d4+1 plus attach), tail slap +1 touch (trip) Special Attacks rake (2 claws, 1d3+1)

Statistics Str 12, Dex 14, Con 13, Int 2, Wis 13, Cha 9 Base Atk +3; CMB +3 (+11 to maintain a grapple); CMD 15 (19 vs. trip) Feats Stealthy, Weapon Finesse Skills Escape Artist +5, Perception +5, Stealth +12 (+16 in ash) SQ ash crawl

Ecology Environment warm land Organization solitary or family (2-6) Treasure incidental

Special Abilities Ash Crawl (Ex) An ash crawler can move through ash drifts without penalty, and when in an ash drift, ignores miss chances due to concealment. Other creatures treat ash drifts as light undergrowth.

[acquired-stardust]

Baroque Sega Saturn 1998

[deepfang-dreamer]

Why were so many Case 53s Mutates?

I assume it had something to do with the fact Eden was dead/dying, but what was the actual deciding factor in warping so many of her Shard-links from base-zero Humans? Sure, there's a few Zion-links that are definitely monstrous(Crawler, Ash Beast), but the majority of Mutates seem to be Eden-links(Weld, Gregor, Sveta, etc.) Do we have a WOG on that? Any theories?

[fruittarts-with-rosepetals]

Tell me, where did you come up with the headcanon of Zuko being scared of bugs?

I just…it just came to me when I was rereading the preview of the ashes of the academy comic. I just kinda find it funny that mai would scare zuko with bugs or just helps him get rid of the scary crawlers. Idk y’all its just something that just appears to my head when I read something

[drawn-on-phone]

I'm proud of myself for this. I finished by the first 2 vehicle kitbashes.

Names: Mouse and Rooster.

More info below the break

The first one is the Rampart Mammoth Walker plus soke Final faction bits. I built it with 2 legs to make a recon / search and rescue vehicle. I adore its multipurpose lights that look like mouse ears and its flexible antenna at the read that looks like a tail. So I called it the Mouse model.

The second one is a kitbash of a 40k Scout Sentinel and a 40k Myphitic Blight Crawler. While it started as an idea for a daemon engine for a Vashtor army, I've since switched it up to be a bio-mecha. Idea is still forming, but it's floating around the Ash Waste Nomads of Necrominda having some bio-engineering capabilities fusing local wildlife to machinery for reasons. Currently, thinking the pilot of the machine is inside the mass onto and cam exit through the green ports on the back sides. This one is Rooster because of the chicken legs and spurs.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

game i super super wanna make Eventually, but and kind of in a rut with learning video game stuff.

you play as rei the canary, an old worker in the mines who helped soothe all of the miners and provide some comfort. until one day, the cave ins trap several miners, and its up to you to go find them and explore an old civilization that brought itself to its own falling over time.

a lot of the themes would revolve around putting yourself first. learning when you need to step away and help yourself, or otherwise get yourself seriously hurt in pursuit of helping others.

A lot of the gameplay i've pictured has been similar to Decked Out, an entire dungeon crawler game made in survival minecraft. I want to focus on the health of your lungs, as they fill with soot and ash. I really want that don't starve-y feel to the health mechanics, where all of the things to keep track of affect each other and need to be balanced well.

also also. trans robot yuri thoughts too. many such cases.

mostly writing this all as another push to actually freaking learn godot, hehe. thanks for lending me some space :)

me reading this: ouhh this is fun this sounds fun it sounds like one of those super artistic games that's kind of eerie because there aren't a lot of people or dialogue but it's actually kind of soothing and beautiful and you would take screenshots and turn them into your wallpaper a

TRANS ROBOT YURI?!?!?!?

[pandoraescape]

Summary: Day 2: "Fire." | Leadership: Varang Life is how I perceive it to be.

Warning: There is violence and blood. Reading at your own risk.

Archive of our own Version

Na'vi Words Used: Direhorse-Pa'li Tslikxyu tsawlaks-Scarab Crawler Talioang-Sturmbeest Naranawm-Polyphemus Sawtutes- Sky People

"Build a man a fire, and he'll be warm for a day. Set a man on fire, and he'll be warm for the rest of his life."

Nestled in a picturesque landscape stood a clan embraced by rolling hills, verdant forests, and fertile soil that stretches throughout the ground. The clan structures were ingeniously built using volcanic rocks and ash, seamlessly blending with the natural landscape. The Na'vis who lived on these harsh grounds adapted to the occasional rumblings of the dirt. The homes were intricately crafted to capture and make the most of the natural heat and warmth generated within the community, creating a comfortable and inviting atmosphere for all. The clan used the rich soil left by past volcanic eruptions. They grew colorful gardens that thrived in the nutrient-rich domain. Bearing all sorts of vegetables, fruit, and herbs.

The people respect the power of the volcanoes, incorporating their reverence into their daily rituals and traditions, especially today. For this day is the day for fire, for freedom,  for-

"They're back! They're back! They came back from the forest!"

Sudden cries of a young boy echoed through the village. Their dark braided hair bounced, dashing through the bustling pathways and pods. His voice echoed off the walls as he eagerly shared the news. Passersby paused to listen, many of them being young adults and curious children. "The warriors are back! The warriors have returned!" His words carried like a whirlwind. The air was filled with the sounds of excitement as the crowd yipped and howled in response to the child's words. With great anticipation, many Na'vis hurried to the village's central area, eagerly awaiting the return of their champions for this year's joyous celebration. They bring back this year's hunt for the clan, a gift for another year of life and warmth for the Ash clan.

The ground began to shake.

The clatter of hooves filled the air. The man and woman rode in on their Pa'lis, forming a diamond formation; three rode the pathway, each hauling a Tslikxyu tsawlaks and talioang, rope securely fastened on the bodies beast's bodies. Dragging the dead animal to the certain for the people to see. When the three reached their spot, the elder cooks went to work, each grabbing their knives. They began to cut into the flesh of the beast, slicing sections of the animal. Using a sharp knife is essential to ensure clean and precise cuts. The cooks in the clan understood this from years of training, and knowing what techniques are best with each beast they hunt allows them to get the most from the meat and bones. Every part of the animals is used in everything from food to decor and clothing.

While they busy themselves with the hunt, two more riders came tugging on the last of the celebration catch: Na'vi intruders.

These Na'vis were utterly different from each other in terms of clothing and age, but what they all hold in common is the anger of their capture, feeling the unsettling pull on their robes as they walked. Whether they tug back, it would result in a menacing hiss or a forceful tug in response. Upon reaching the middle of the village, a giant bonfire kindled to life. Warriors all left their mounts, some helping the cooks quickly put aside the meats while the rest tugged their prey to form a line. Showcasing them to the people. There are seven Na'vi prisoners: a mother and her newborn baby, two elders, and two young hunters. Curiosity soon sparked as many clan children studied their "guests." Some even try poking them, which makes them laugh when they squirm.

Naranawm skies soon became night.

The lava veins running through the village illuminated the clan's grounds in an orange-red glow. Many began to take their spot, forming a circle around the bonfire. The sound of booming drums fills the space, making everyone silently whisper as they soon see a strong Na'vi making her way through the crowd. Varang, the Ash Clan's Leader and strongest warrior. Her body donned a vibrant scarlet and black loincloth, a threaded top adorned with a blend of orange and honey-colored beads, and her chieftain headpiece to tie it together. She gracefully steps to the center, her eyes studying each tied Na'vi with a keen sense of learning them. She then turns to her people and begins to speak.

"My people," she begins, her voice holding strength but a somewhat softness in her tone," we have gathered here once again to celebrate the fire that burns brightly within us and honor our tradition. As we thank our warriors for another hunt, we also thank them for, once again, protecting each other and relying on their skills alone to bring us prosperity for the clan."

The people yip and howl in joy at her words alongside their warriors. Varang then turns to their captives, a wicked smile on her lips as she continues, "As in tradition, we must first see if we can cure these poor souls of their madness."

Varang first approached the two young hunters, both males. Their clothing was very bright, unlike that of their clan. They wore many greens and pressed flowers, even tying them in their braided hair. Varang snorts, catching both of the male's attention, and she bends down on her knee to them. "I see. You're of the Tawkami clan, Ewya's little guardians." Some people laugh at the men, while others annoyingly hiss at them. "Strange how your Great Mother led you two to be captured by my fighters. It seems Eywa had no use for you anymore," she said. One of the two growled at her, while the other tried to stand up, only to be pulled back down by a female warrior holding onto their Kurus, earning a hiss of pain in return. Varang only sighted at the two in pity, standing she then continuing to the next. She then stands before the two elders, one woman and man, possibly husband and wife. Their attire was simple, calming blues and purple with dark brown loincloths. The only thing that interested Varang was the golden bands in their hair. Something familiar for some Na'vi clans, primarily ones in the mountains or deep jungles, and even within the Ash clan. Staring at them closer, the man went closer to the woman, protecting her from Varang's stare. Varang hums but shakes her head.

"Poor Elders. Eywa discarded you away," Varang taunts.

This elicited a furious hiss from the woman while her partner scowled at her. Varang didn't react. She remained expressionless while walking to the final two. The mother and child. Now, this got her to break into genuine curiosity. In many celebrations, the clan never captured a mother and child, well not together, and never for the child to be this young. Varang examined the two, causing the mother to hold her child close to her chest, fear across her face. Their clothing was similar to the two elders', but with no gold bands in their hair. Meaning she and they aren't in the same clan.

"Now, this is something unexpected," Varang expressed, again lowering herself in front of the kneeling woman. She sees fear, loss, and...anger. Some at her no don't, but the rest is of something else.

"What are you called?" The mother seemed shocked, still afraid, but slowly, she answered," Veyona."

"And of your child?" Veyona clutches her child, still frightened, but she responds as the male warrior behind her pulls at her ropes. "Txur. His name is Txur."

Varang emits a low, steady hum, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on her. "I see. Now, what about your mate? Where's he?" Varang questions, finding it strange that the woman's mate is not with her. Veyona's body grew still, piquing Varang's interest as she observed the young mother's eyes fill with a mix of sadness and rage she had seen before. More than that, Varang saw the fire that burned in her people, the fire that led them, the fire that burned in their hearts. Varang looked above Veyona to the male hunter, who still held the mother's robe with a simple gaze. Understanding her gaze, the man started untying the woman, prompting her people and the other captured Na'vi to look on in confusion. Veyona was puzzled as the male freed her. Varang then spoke.

"Tell me, poor child, what has your mate done to you to leave your clan to the dangers of the wilds?"

The people and the Na'vi gaze at the mother, and many ponder silently while the clan's children approach her quietly, eager to learn more. Veyona's body then shook in rage, tears running down her face.

"My mate abandoned our child and me when sawtutes came to the clan," she said, her voice breaking as she did. As she continues, the Ash clan stares at the woman in wonder and curiosity. " Our people escaped, but many others fell to the strange metals piercing their bodies. Once we reached a safe area, one of the Olo'eyktan's men captured one of the demons," Veyona then starts to sniffle, hugging her child closer, but is shocked when Varang places a comforting hand on her arm.

"Go on, child, speak your mind about this pain," Varang spoke gently as she kept comforting the weeping woman.

Veyona's shock slowly wears off, and her grip on her baby loosens as she continues," The demon said they followed me from my gathering trip back to the clan and waited until we were together to strike."

The onlookers, including the people and the prisoners, gazed at the mother with pity and surprise evident on their faces. Many children also came even closer to the mother, with sadness in their eyes. Veyona took a breath, "Everyone then began to blame me. They believe I'd led them to Kelutral. Many were so angry, and...my mate was a coward," Veyona's voice held venom at the end. Varang smirks at the fury of the flames burning within this mother, her anger a catalyst for her true journey.

A path of her own, separate from that of the Great Mother.

"Oh, sweet child," Varang said, her hand still on the mother's shoulder as she helped her to her feet, still holding her stare at her, "You've been oppressed by those you thought were kind." She then uses her hand to wipe away the tears rolling down her cheek, leaving a sense of calm and composure. She looks to her people, "This innocent mother was cast out from her clan because she didn't know that the sawtutes were following her. If Eywa had known about this, would she have sent a sign to their Tsahìk to warn their people?" The members of the Ash clan all hiss and growl at the injustice of the story. The children approached the mother with concern, placing comforting hands on her arm.

"Eywa only cares about her "balance," not whether a mother and child would die at the hands of a stranger or the creatures that roam the lands," Varang's voice becomes louder. The people all yell in agreement as the bonfire grows even more prominent. At that moment, the hunters each grab the other captives by their Kuru, each holding a knife under them.

Varang then turns to the frightened Na'vi, who is being held by her fighters. Her eyes glow with joy as she then says, "However, thanks to us, we have saved her from her madness, and we have not only brought her and her child to our clan. We can proceed with the celebration!"

With that, Varang gave the warriors a nod. Which started the event with the first cut. Each warrior began to slice the Na'vi Kurus one by one. Screams of pain of their victims only brought happiness to her people. Their cries to their goddess only brought satisfaction to her, for they knew she wouldn't do anything. Once cut off, the bodies drop to the floor as the warriors give their leader the Kurus. In hand, she raised them up in the air in pride.

"With this, the celebration can begin!"

Everyone then began to stand up and join in the fun. Many played music, while others danced. Children who stayed with their mother were near the bodies, poking and pulling at their clothes. Varang then turns back to the mother and son, gathering some of the blood on her hands, places their clan's mark on the head, and then at the son's, who looks at the Varang with a smile, unaware of the death around. Varang smiled, more so when she saw the mother's eyes.

No fear. Only the fire that Burns.

[samuraiko]

Details from the new CR animated intro (SPOILERS AHOY)

HERE BE SPOILERS

YOU KNOW THE DRILL

LOREM IPSUM

---

So, from the beginning of the new intro!

Matt creating the terrain (the Key, what looks like Ludinus' tower in Molaesmyr) and the appearance of Liliana, Ludinus, Ira Wendigoth, Captain Xandis, and Otohan Thull before the shot pans out to the Feywild Arch...

Nothing specific in Fearne's intro though it might represent her passing through the Arch into Exandria

Orym's shows Derrig sitting under the cherry tree while Will is beside Orym, moving through the Zephaer'atam - Will and Orym are using identical swords (barring length)

Imogen's shows Bertrand, the Lumas twins, and Lord Eshteross fading into the storm before she turns, runs, and plummets into...

Ashton falling from the window of Jiana Hexum's manor (we see him pre-injury but post-"hardening")

The group on the deck of the Silver Sun, we now see Ash with two different colour eyes -- as they fall overboard, Ashton grabs Laudna and flings her at Imogen, while FCG casts Fly (or something along those lines), and Fearne transforms into a bird and catches Ashton on her back (we don't see if FCG catches Orym or Chetney)

When the Hells are in the Feywild, Fearne has her pan flute, and we see her blackened left hand (a result of her grabbing Lolth's Crown during ExU)

During Laudna's intro, we get a brief flash of Delilah puppeting a Laudna doll the way Laudna is puppeting Pate in the shot

During FCG's shot, in the close-up on his red-tinted eyes, we see the Division lying massacred, with the buzzsaw and the grappling hook arm on the ground - as the shot pulls back, we see FCG swinging the buzzsaw at Ashton before we see the rest of the Hells surround him, Orym restraining him (with Seedling, slight continuity error there but appropriate), Chetney's unfinished mood wheel on the table behind them... and then Fearne pickpockets Ashton while everyone's focused on FCG

Chetney is carving a rocking horse, and we clearly see his RTA crown tattoo

In the group attack shot -- a wolfed-out Chet is using his Crimson Rite to claw through vines -- Fearne summons Mister who has his little firearm before she blowtorches everything -- Ashton's arm gets sliced and he rages -- FCG grapplehooks his way into combat and swings around, his Spiritual Weapon taking the shape of the Changebringer's coin -- Ashton apparently rolled Time because we see his dopplered selves appearing off him (it MIGHT just be a coincidence, but the blue-shift version looks like an uninjured stone Asthon, while the red-shift version looks like a HUMAN Ashton) before Ashton drops the hammer on a pair of Paragon's Call riding a crawler and blows it up -- Laudna's newer form of Dread appears with branches and flowers, while Imogen flings lightning around -- Orym goes toe to toe with several of Otohan Thull's echoes (including him Air Striking some into nothingness) before he blocks the REAL Thull's attack

Thull knocks him back into Ashton and FCG, who catch him

[kyeomyun]

Last Ticking Second

pairings: dad!mingi x (not mentioned) gn!reader

genre: angst.. sorry, apocalyptic, more angst sorry

warnings: mentions of death, mingi is literally SUFFERING, crying, cursing

synopsis: mingi knew he was risking his life but if there was one thing he would do in the world, it would be to stay by his little girl. no matter what.

sn: this is a re-upload! i posted this before i transitioned to "kyeomyun"! but posting this since i am kinda satisfied with it and also since it will take a while before I actually get back writing since school ;-;

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 princess”

He let this happen. He fucking 𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘥 this to happen.

The scene was almost too horrifying, too excruciating to forget. His brain punishing him for his misstep that now changed the rest of his life. If he even gets to live it after this tragedy…

He knew he should have left her here in this very house where it was secure. He knew that he should have been more careful about where his feet dragged him to when he was restocking on food for the both of them could survive this. But no. All of this “knowing” went to the unknown and disappearing into thin air.

The man become greedy, hungry to be one of the lucky people to get the now scarce supply of the only ample life source. People were willing to spill blood if necessary to obtain the smallest of foods if that meant surviving until the end of this, as the FBI refers it as, pandemic.

The greediness now mocks him as he slowly lose himself, laying on the stained comforter with his little one… the last piece of him. The gory sight of the mark on her neck making his heart twist and wrench with guilt.. self-abasement. Shame.

𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴…

It has been one hour, forty-five minutes and sixteen seconds since the incident. Eighteen sickening days of speeding past the dead to hide in the darkened shadows of abandoned buildings. Thirty-six hours since Mingi last blinked an eye, the thought of sleeping floated off into the ashes of the raging fires outside. The world around the latter feeling bland now. Knowing that the last piece of his blackened heart is now draining beside him.

He knew the longer he sat here to watch his little one slowly lose herself into this being of nothing but a body, the longer life jabs his heart with more force than the last. But he despised regret. Regret, she would tear him into pieces, leaving his insides exposed for everyone to stare and gawk while she laughs at his shame.

He knew better.

If he left now just to let his own daughter become something beyond his being, regret would just be there with a waiting hand ready to just clutch his soul and devour him whole.

Another pipe up of growls and hisses reverberate from the opposite side of the window. The creepy-crawlers hungry for their next meal. They limped out in their domain as the sky only seem to grow more depressed watching the scene below occur. Clouds filled with tears which were now on the verge on falling down and landing down on the withering grounds of this place that was once referred to as “Earth”. Blue skies never seem to return and now replaced with an ashy grey that seems permanent at this point now. Maybe because of the amount of smoke it has inhaled.

Or maybe just because that is how Mingi sees it now.

Mingi reminisces about the very few times his little girl bursting through the door of his company practice room. That toothy grin that showed her crooked teeth melting the fathers insides into nothing but mush and his limbs into jelly.

“Daddy!” Her small voice bounced off the walls and into Mingi ear. The father kneeled to one knee and both his arms awaited his daughter arrival to her home.

Her only safe zone.

“There goes my baby!” Anyone could tell the love Mingi holds in his eyes as he stares down at his daughter. If this were a cartoon you could visualize the hearts that would lift in the air and pop before even more comes into view. Ever since she popped out into the world 6 years ago, Mingi smile seemed more natural. More from the heart. As if she awoken the most purest and rawest feeling in love inside of him that bloomed oh so beautifully.

The way Mingi listened to every detail about her days of school where she witnessed a squirrel with cheeks full of winter supply while she lingered around the playground, how she practiced making something special for his birthday. And if Mingi were to ask what this so called “special” gift was, she would just shush him down and whisper,

“No! It wouldn’t be special no more if I told you!” Then jut out her lower lip into a pout that always made Mingi release a whole-heartedly chuckle her way.

Other times, there would be moments where she would cry after people would poke fun at are crooked teeth or about a bad grade she would get on homework. The small itch of anger scratched at Mingi but he did subside that aching feeling and just embraced her all while saying in a hushed voice,

“Hey. You are strong. My strong princess.” A small peck would melt on her forehead. The hyperventilating pacing down into just quick hiccups and gasps of air. “I always tell you that, don't I?”

With a small nod, she leaned against Mingi chest. Warmth blossomed in the latter's chest while she sat in his lap on the practice room floor. His team mates, his brothers, were in awe watching this beautiful scene unfold but also not trying to make it obvious that they were indeed gushing.

Those small moments were when Mingi felt at his peak.

But now, he glances down, more bits of his heart ripped away from the latter. His little one… his everything… skin withering into a lumpy grey, her eyes losing its once hazel brown color to a color that had no emotion whatsoever. Those eyes that would always shrink into small slits when that intoxicating smile spreads from ear to ear. That heart that would pound against his own after chasing one another around their safe haven, incoherent screams to tell the other that they had enough.

All of those times were gone… those 6 years… her soul did not deserve this short span of exploration on this planet.

“Daddy…” Her small, desperate body voiced out. Mingi did not trust his voice at all to even respond. The ache in his throat forming into a ball that is so suffocating for him to even deal with. But he had to remind her that he was right here, right next to her.

He also had to remind himself that he was sane enough to even process these last few moments..

“I am right here, sweet girl. Daddy is r-right here..”

Damn his voice for cracking.

Damn him for not being able to do anything to fix this.

Damn him for letting this happen to her.

“I…I am still strong, right?” The question was so simple but such a long stretch to plunge into his chest and drain his body of the blood that ran in his veins.

This question was a nightly chore for the the father-daughter duo. Mingi would always ask if she was strong every single night just for his precious flower can bloom as bright as she did the night before.

“Yes you are, little one. You are the strongest, most intelligent, and bravest girl. My little superhero…”

Those words unlocked a number of core memories.

The times where they wore plastic tiaras that would not always be perfectly straightened on their heads, cups and mugs scattered on the table with invisible tea that could only, truly, be seen by just the imagination, and wands that were capable of every spell in the book. If you put your mind to it of course.

Those precious times always ended with the same outcome. Mingi protecting his daughter from some monster that would magically appear to destroy the kingdom.

Tears stung the side of the father’s eyes as he thought of those precious memories that will now truly only remain… memories. But also daggers that will forever prick him for shamelessly failing his life mission. Fragments of times that he felt at his fullest and understood the importance of life. The true meaning. But now that meaning will no longer exist after today.

“Wanna see... daddy...”

Those now grey eyes searched and searched. Her head weakly lifting off the pillow just to weigh back down. The sight gave the father the excuse halt his breathing, trying his hardest to contain himself before he erupted.

Blindness of an zombie was an advantage for a human. But right now... this was just a punishment.

An inhumane sound hissed in his ears. The sound signaling the ticking of the clock was nearing the end of yet another soul. His soul.

Silence swallowed the room.. until...

“D-Don't leave me alone... please...” A growl followed soon after once again. The unsureness of the presence of Mingi unknown for the sight sense was snatched from his daughter.

Mingi heart sunk. Cracking along the way as it fell into the dark void his body created inside of him. Her voice blazed with so much pain, strained and forced to come out of her decomposing body. Each shard of his heart scraped his insides as punishment for allowing this faith happen to the wrong person. Now he has to live… without his special person no longer by his side.

No more cooking battles. No more tea parties. No more sneaking into moms makeup. No more kisses for bed.

No more love.

The unshed tears came piling on Mingi pale face. His already tight embrace clinging even more secure if that was even possible. His hand started to card through her dark locks, massaging her scalp whilst she slowly slurred the words she was barely able to comprehend in her rotten brain. Just coming out mindlessly before no syllables came out at all.

Mingi wants to scream he is sorry, beg for forgiveness for whatever god casted this curse upon his daughter, But he didn’t. Not during this time where she grasp for a ledge to protect her. Hold her until the end of time.

Something Mingi couldn't do.

As much as his brain tells him to pull away after hisses and inhumane sounds come from right beside him whilist his princess now drags each syllable of this song, he doesn’t.

Because he will stay with his little one.

“I am never going to leave you, princess.”

Until the last ticking second

did you enjoy your order?

if you did, please like, reblog, (pls) comment, all of that jazz :>

have a good day sweets ^^

tagging: @wqnwoos @wheeboo @etherealyoungk @rubywonu @trblsvt @yllihannie @icyminghao @odxrilove @stormyjisung @slytherinshua @selenicives @star1117-archives @shuatic @fairyhaos @gyu-effect @haowrld @hannyoontify @jaehunnyy @luvhyun3 @lvlystars @blue-jisungs

[heyitschartic]

Slaughterhouse 9 coffee orders

Jack: Black coffee, but he's very particular about what you serve him. He'll force coffee shop employees to make his very specific pour over order with specialty beans under the threat if he takes one sip and doesn't like it he'll kill them. Doesn't actually like coffee, it all tastes the same to him.

Bonesaw: Jack has told her she's too young to drink coffee, has hot chocolate with whipped cream instead. Makes the employees sing a little song when they serve it or she won't drink it.

Siberian: Does not drink anything that didn't come from a human being. However, Manton goes to starbucks for frappes while they're on the road.

Mannequin: Is physically incapable of consuming food. He enjoys the preparation process though.

Burnscar: She drinks whatever slop they have. Everything tastes like smoke and ash to her. Likes vanilla lattes though.

Crawler: Orders a venti cup of espresso shots and makes them pour a five hour energy into it.

Shatterbird: Doesn't like coffee, prefers tea and a nice book to read while she drinks it. Claims no coffee shop ever has good tea.

Cherish: She has the most bougie taste imaginable and will talk down to every employee there about how they're making it, how they present it, how long they take, and while she's drinking it talks endlessly about how other places prepared it better. Secretly loves a pumpkin spice latte but cannot ever order it in front of others.

[kobalttheelemental]

Map of Elementia

did a little redesigned of the map

🎆 Arcania: one of the most magical land of Elementia, the land here is breathtaking with giant crystals, friendly fauna species, and strange exotic flora. the towns and Kingdom have everything like potions, spell books, wands, pets, magical silk clothing and many more! the land is home to warriors called the Shade Hunters who's job is to hunt and kill shades and protect Elementia from danger.

🌋 Volcania: a scorching hot land of active volcanoes, lava lakes, ash fall, and fiery faunas! it is also home to gigantic fire breathing dragons roaming the volcanic land! what's strange is that the plants not only need water but needs lava to grow!

🏜️ Gusano Desert: a dry desert land with searing hot temperatures it may look empty and dull but it has beautiful rock formations like deep canyons, tall mesas, and shifting sand dunes. if you want to visit the desert towns or cities make sure your well prepared and bring plenty of water. Warning! this land is home to giant sandworms that will eat you alive! so be careful and stay safe!

🌊 Thalassa Ocean: a mysterious underwater world timing with aquatic life, colorful reefs, amazing underwater cities, and hidden treasures scattered around the sea floor. it may look peaceful yet the ocean of Elementia is dangerous and home to large leviathans that swim around the deep oceans and can capsized ships and devour sailors! also watch out for pirates!

🌪️ Windshear Skylands: hidden in the clouds is the windshear skylands a majestic land of floating lands and stunning views, the only way to get up there is by airships or flying creatures. just like Arcania the land here is home to the fiercest warriors called the Wind Warriors whose job is to create life on uninhabitable planets and fight of shade attacks.

⚡️Thunderia: a land battered in everlasting thunderstorms and is to dangerous to live, yet Thunderlings(Lightning Elementals) find this place home where they build futuristic cities and technology. the land here also creates energy crystals that have enough energy to power an entire city or used in vehicles and technology.

❄️ North Polaris: a winter wonderland of fresh powdered snow, snow-covered conifers, and aurora borealis dancing in the night sky. many elementals come here to have fun and play winter games or take a relaxing vacation and drink some of the finest hot coco of Elementia. not to mention the Iceclaws(Ice Elementals) make the best frozen treats like ice cream, popsicles, slushies, and more!

❄️ South Polaris: the opposite of North Polaris, the land here is harsh and freezing cold, living in this frigid land will be very hard unless you have the right equipment and plenty of food to survive.

🍃 Viridian Wilds: a lush green land of forests, jungles, taigas, gardens, exotic faunas and more! plus it is one of the most highly diverse ecosystems of Elementia, Warning! cutting down trees will cause Tree Crawlers(Nature Elementals) to get angry and hunt you down! always ask permission before cutting down trees.

🪨 Metallic Badlands: a metallic barren land where small volcanoes spew molten hot metals, a perfect place for miners to mine up rare metals and craft them into weapons, armor, jewelry, and more!

☢️ Toxic Bayou: probably one of the most toxic land of Elementia! the land here is very dangerous with acidic waters, poisonous plants, toxic fumaroles and venomous faunas that can kill you in seconds. but before you enter this toxic land always bring protection and plenty of antidotes.

☀️ Solaris: a warm sunny land and calm weather, the lands here is a perfect place for farmers to grow their crops or have a nice picnic. there are also ancient marble buildings from millions of years ago scattered everywhere.

🌌 Nycto Caverns: deep in the Sunny Plateau Biome is a gigantic sinkhole that is an entrance to Nycto Caverns, a dark scary cave where blind creatures and giant bugs roam around some friendly and some not. not to mention different kinds of fungus grow inside the caverns. Warning! the deeper you go the more dark and dangerous the cavern gets, always bring weapons and protection!

💀 Dragon Graveyard: one of the terrifying and scary land of Elementia where ancient dragon bones are scattered everywhere, dangerous fauna species and spirits haunt the land. there are many legends of why the land looks like that, some say this used to be normal land oo lush flora and crystal clear waters until the land has been cursed, while some say this is a resting place where old dragons go in peace yet no one really knows.

[xryosakeyx]

I was looking back through some old art I made and I just remembered about an old aura guardian AU I made up when I was younger because I was pretty obsessed with the 8th movie as a kid, as in I had a whole game idea and everything. Here are some pics from most recent to oldest:

As you can tell, dates vary (about in between my freshman and junior years in HS I think, though the ideas themselves are way older than that) but to me it's pretty interesting seeing my art progression throughout the years! Anyways, from what I could remember from the AU, it takes place in the medival ages or something and Ash is basically a guardian in training. His characterization was based mostly on OS Ash, so in turn he would get into so much trouble in an attempt to unlock the secrets of aura with his partner being a Riolu. He and Riolu wouldn't get along initially as one was a lot more careful than the other but the one thing that drove them to stick together and eventually find a compromise was that they felt that they were being shielded from more lessons by their mentor (who was formally supposed to be Ash's rival). One day the mentor had to go away on a trip oversees to deal with some matters in a far kingdom and he didn't come back as he usually would, making the duo worry and having to stow away on a cargo ship, and on those lands they ended up learning much more than what their mentor ever could. A kingdom in this AU was basically an entire region with at least eight different city states acting as trials or gym battles; they would go on some wild adventures meeting various legendaries that showed them the powers within.

Oh yeah, and they do find their mentor, he just got lost in the middle of the woods and it took him far too long to get out, to the point that once he did, he learned about the duo causing mischief on the land and it took him ages to finally catch up with them. However, he was finally impressed with the work Ash and his now evolved Lucario have done with the land that he couldn't stay mad at them, so to celebrate they had a big party and they all lived happily ever after :)

Anyways, as for the game idea, it would have been some sort of dungeon crawler x RPG game where you would take control of Riolu and some other Pokémon that would be offer to you (by either NPCs or pokéballs that were set at some point already in a temple) and Riolu would have a limit compared to the other Pokémon that would only go up if you read a scroll (also found in dungeons, but sometimes random chests in houses) which also sometimes taught him a new move. Of course, you could only carry six with you and have only one out at a time, and in the scenerio that they would all faint, it wouldn't be a game over, it just meant that you had to play the game in Hard Mode until you found healing items or something, and you had to avoid being hit at all times, only having measily aura spells equipped on the player that could have a chance at stunning an enemy, but otherwise it was futile.

I made few oneshots of the AU but I never posted them online and I completely lost the files to them as I kept everything to myself on my old phone :( Honestly it was one of my favorite things that I made up and it brightens my day whenever I remember of it! I may talk more about it in the future, as I remember writing various notes on it, but otherwise this is what I could rummage at the moment. As for inspirations, an obvious one is Zelda, more specifically BOTW as it was one of the only games I owned on the Switch at the time and it was my first time actually playing a Zelda game. Others include Berserk and the Soulsborne games, most specifcally Bloodborne as the hat the protagonist wears reminds me of the one Ash wore in the movie, anyways the AU leaned more towards the dark fantasy side.

[ubormaci]

'What power would you want from Worm?'

It's a decently often repeated question, one that I pondered quite a lot about, so here's a write-up to organize them.

To lay down some ground rules: I am picking these powers in the context of which would I want if I were to wake up with them tomorrow, still in the real world.

With that out of the way, let's start:

Let's get the obvious one out of the way first: Path to Victory. It is an undoubtedly strong power, which literally offers the solution to any and all of my problems. Except, knowing how paranoid I can get, I'm afraid I would end up over-pathing my life, trying to avoid any potential negative future, potentially losing enjoyment of it altogether.

Basically any thinker power: They're hard to detect, which is a major plus, seeing that I don't want people to start asking inconvenient questions, like "Why can that guy just shoot lasers, again?'. First on the list (after the aforementioned zeroth place) is Number Man's power, seeing that it has very wide applications, and it doesn't come with thinker headaches. Next up after that is Coil's power, which I put before Tattletale's and Dinah's because it doesn't come with thinker headaches.

Thinking a bit more widely, considering non-thinker powers, another one that quickly comes up is The High Priest/Eidolon's power. It is a very attractive option that is lower down on the list becuase: a) 'You needed worthy opponents.' ; b) Sometimes I get really angry, and I don't want to know what would happen if in those moments I suddenly gained access to a power that would allow me to act without (immediately apparent) consequences.

Depending on my mood may be a bit higher up on the list, but here is it for now: Bonesaw's power. It's one of the tinker powers that I think would be easy(er) to hide in the real world, plus it would allow me to augment myself, possibly helping to alleviate my concerns, about, well, death.

But really, if I were offered a power, there's little chance I'd turn it down. I'd take any of the following in a heartbeat (plus points for those that can be endlessly denied):

But because I love listing things, even these will be put into three categories:

First category: can't be detected, no way to prove I have a power, save for a brain scan: Heartbreaker's, Regent's, Cherish's, Skitter's, Chicken Little's, Error's, Imp's

Second category: changes my body/the power expression itself is as such that it cannot be/hardly be denied: Alexandria's, Faultline's, Victoria's, August Prince's, Crawler's, Strider's, Gavel's, Panacea's, Golem's, Grue's, Kingdom Come's, Satyrical's, Night's

Third and final category: Powers I would actually decline, thank you very much: Blindside's, Ash Beast's, Weld's/Sveta's/any Case 53's, Ashley's

[sehtoast]

From Ashes to Home (Depowered Homelander x OC)

18+

Word Count: 6.6k

Summary: Some ghosts aren't meant to be found, but the case of Homelander's mother is one that deserves to be revealed. He deserves a chance to know what's left of her. Chapter 11 of All of You is Left to Love. Not plot dependent.

Warnings: Smut if you squint, parental death themes, he's finally allowed to grieve. Vought's catalog of inflicted horrors.

OC: Benjamin Colyer (The Boys-verse Spider-Man)

Special thanks to @theonlymanintheskyisme for beta reading <3

Fic Directory

I just… I wish I knew anything about her.

Those words echoed in Ben’s mind for days on end, endlessly looping in that sad, defeated whisper. Somehow, the subject of Homelander’s parentage came up, and, well…

It always was a tender topic.

He hated the way John bit back his tears. The way he hid himself behind an air of indifference lest he let the last pillar of his defenses crumble to dust.

Even now, after all this time, he still struggled to really let it out. But Ben always knew. Could always tell by the twitch of Homelander’s lip, the scrunch of his nose, the way he wouldn’t blink as a way to hold back his tears.

He made a silent promise to find all that he could as he held Homelander that night. Each brush of his hand through his once god-like lover’s hair a vow to find something, anything that could bring him closer to the mother he never knew.

Every day that followed, Ben found himself more and more consumed by ideas on how to find her. Would he have to bribe someone? Money was certainly no worry. Would he have to intimidate people? Most likely, but it wasn’t particularly hard to get the staff in Vital Records to shit their pants.

Would he have to march into Stan’s office and make more demands?

Luckily, being the new head of The Seven came with many perks, even more so for actually being liked by the staff at Vought Tower.

What little information referenced John’s parentage only directly named Soldier Boy, who'd already revealed himself as Homelander’s father. Granted, that information was updated by Homelander himself after it came to light. Prior to that, the line for the father's name had been blank.

Perhaps sperm donor was a better title... He hadn't exactly been father of the year when he tried to go nuclear– much less a decent grandfather for leaving Ryan battered.

Ben admittedly had a chuckle over their shared first name, but he found it incredibly odd that Vought named the mother by a code.

1-G.

Benjamin spent several hours a day in the record center’s library of paper files. Many of them were scheduled to be destroyed after being recreated digitally, but it’d take an army to copy and sort decades of documents. He had plenty of time, and he’d rummage through every filing cabinet in the room if that’s what it would take to find even the slightest scrap of information about John’s mother.

The wall crawler drove himself mad trying to work off that one piece of information.

1-G. A code? A title? A fucking label designation for some petri dish somewhere?

Each night, he went back home to Homelander. Each night, he had to pretend to have been out prowling the streets for miscreants instead of playing librarian. He’d come home with dinner, sit down with Homelander, and pick at his food as each disgusting secret he’d uncovered entangled itself into his waking mind.

“What’s wrong?”

Ben jumped, looking up at Homelander with wide eyes and a piece of spaghetti dangling from his lips.

“That! That right there.” John pointed accusingly with his fork. “You’re not telling me something. What’s going on?”

“Nothin’,” the web-head shook his head. “Just– work’s been a lot lately, y’know? Stan’s a bastard, the team is acting up... Same headache, different day.”

Homelander’s eyes narrowed at him, suspicion nestled deep inside those beautiful blues.

“Bullshit! You’re not eating lately and you’re sure as fuck not talking. Did– Are you mad at me?” John pushed away from the table, standing. “You haven’t said more than five words since you got in.”

“Johnny,” Ben sighed, lowering his head. “I’m not mad, I just… I’m just really caught in my head right now, okay?”

“Right, right.” Homelander rolled his eyes, grabbing his carryout container. “Whatever. Talk to me when you feel like it, I guess. I’ll just give you your space.” Dejected bitterness laced every word.

Ben lacked the steam to chase him to the bedroom and talk some sense into him. Fuck, he could barely do it for himself, let alone John. So, he let the pot simmer. Cleaned up around the house and showered to kill some time before meandering back to their room.

Homelander had shut off all the lights and curled up close to the edge of the bed, blankets obscuring his form. Ben wondered if his love was actually asleep, or just hiding in the only way he knew how anymore.

A pang of guilt hit his heart.

It’d been roughly two weeks since he started rummaging through Vought’s archives, and quite likely two weeks since he’d paid enough attention to Homelander.

Ben eased into bed, curling around Homelander’s ‘sleeping’ form. He didn’t move to pull the covers away, opting instead to let love keep a layer of protection between himself and a source of pain. He knew times like these only stoked the paranoia that one day John would wake to an empty bed and home. That Ben would up and leave him after finding someone better, or realizing he wasn't worth the effort.

Something that would simply never happen.

Benjamin nuzzled close, lips hovering right above John’s covered ear.

“I’m not mad at you…” He began. “I promise, Johnny. I’m not. I just… It’s a lot to explain. I’ve got this… project that I’m working on. It’s really important, but I’m finding so many fucking horrors from Vought in the meantime that I just…”

He breathed a heavy sigh.

“It’s taking a lot out of me. That with everything else I see in a day, and… it’s a lot, y’know?”

Ben paused, waiting to see if Homelander would shuffle out from under the blankets. When he didn’t, Benjamin continued.

“I love you. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

He shifted away from Homelander, opting to give him space instead of smothering him. It took only a few moments for that bundle of blankets to shuffle his way. A hand snaked out from underneath, fingers joining with Ben’s.

The wall crawler shifted onto his side and pulled John closer.

No words were exchanged for the rest of the night. Ben dozed off with ease while Homelander fought against his drowsiness to bask in the moment. The rise and fall of Benjamin’s chest against his head, the steady beats of his heart.

He adored his little spider more than anything in the world. Even the slightest thought of losing Benjamin was enough to send him spiraling into paranoia and rampant imaginings of worst case scenarios. It’d been two years since he lost his powers, and every day he wondered if Ben would finally decide he wasn’t worth keeping around. Every day he had to remind himself that the wall crawler loves him. That he was more than the house pet his alter ego dubbed him as.

Where would he even be without his Benjamin?

Would he even be alive? Would he have made it out of that containment cell? Would he have survived another week of torture before that guard simply killed him?

Would there be a roof over his head, or the promise of regular meals? A warm bed and a devoted soul with whom to share it?

Would he have someone to protect him now that he couldn’t fend for himself?

Every swirling thought made him realize no, he wouldn’t.

He'd still be in the bad room. He'd likely be dead. Starved or beaten to death, surely. Tortured every single day until he succumbed.

But, god above, that only meant it would make sense if Ben grew tired of him - weak mess of a man that he was now.

Despite the storm of what-ifs pulsating in his mind, John dozed off fairly fast once he laid his head upon Ben’s chest. When he woke, his body was enveloped in heat– some areas more than others.

He was on the brink as soon as his eyes fluttered open.

He lifted the covers to peek, and the sight alone of Ben swallowing him triggered his release instantly, leaving him a writhing, panting mess.

“You,” Ben licked the length of his softening shaft, “and I are due for a date, sir. I called off. We have the whole day.”

Benjamin made good on his word, devoting the entire day to Homelander. He’d barely even thought about his little side project while they were out.

The dying warmth of an early September breeze swept around them as the pair passed all sorts of eateries. The openness of the streets in Queens kept Homelander’s nerves at bay, but John still struggled quite a bit with entering crowded spaces– especially stores. The smaller they were, the more his mind would linger on memories of both his childhood cell and the… other one. But, Benjamin’s presence, along with the duty of carrying the grocery basket, made it a smidge less stressful to accomplish their trip.

“Proud of you,” Ben nudged his shoulder as they walked home, each carrying a paper bag of goods. “Seriously. I hope you know how great it is to see you do all this.”

He couldn’t help but grin despite how vulnerable he really felt. He was like an open wound in public. Exposed, waiting for someone to pick at him or throw salt his way. What if someone recognized him?

What if someone realized the shame of his current state, and he was plastered on the screen of every device with internet access?

Hell, probably every newspaper, too.

Homelander Spotted Looking Half Homeless! is what he imagined the headlines would read. Though he began to allow Ben to trim his hair, he still found himself feeling subpar in appearance. Be it the weight he’d gained, or his casual clothing, he just wouldn’t be The Homelander anymore.

Christ, what if someone asked him to use his powers?

He took deep breaths as they turned another corner, counting each step as they made their way closer to home. By the time the front door closed behind them, he’d about reached his breaking point.

Ben, however, wasted no time in distracting him with banter and meal prep duties.

“Don’t cut yourself again,” the web-head warned as he sorted through pots and pans.

“Not my fault,” John countered, hand idly rolling a bell pepper along the length of the cutting board. “You showed me doing it fast, so I went fast.”

“Yes, babe. But I have actual experience with cooking.”

By the time they could leave the rest of the work up to the oven, the pair had made their way to the couch. John’s legs were strewn over Ben’s lap as he watched TV. Benjamin, however, had pulled out his laptop to browse that barebones document he’d found on John’s parentage.

The sight of the Vought logo snagged Homelander’s attention like a moth to a flame.

“Just that project I’m working on.” Ben hummed coolly, praying to whatever gods there may be that John wouldn’t press the issue. “Mostly just paperwork.”

Suddenly, an idea struck him.

“Hey, unrelated...” He began, hoping the little lie would go unnoticed– mostly because he didn’t want to admit to what he’d been doing and get John’s hopes up just to dash them with inevitable disappointment. “I was poking around in the paper archives the other day.”

Make up a new number… He’s definitely seen it before.

“3-F as a name placeholder mean anything to you? Like, is it a code or something?”

John’s brow pinched, and he sat silent for a while, raking through memories of decades of Vought propaganda and genuine fact.

“I think…” He trailed off. “I haven’t seen it in a while, but I’m pretty sure that’s how the first supe trial volunteers were categorized. There weren’t massive amounts of people signing up to get injected with V– if you can imagine.”

Ben quirked a brow as his brain raced to connect the dots.

“It was part of keeping their identities off the record, too. Liabilities and all that. Last I heard, all the files on ‘em were shredded once they got what they were looking for.” he continued, brows pinched. “Some fucked up shit went on there. Why?”

“I, uh…” Ben sighed. “Saw it in place of a name in one of the paper docs I pulled the other night. It’s just been bugging me.”

“Deep rabbit hole there.” John sighed, leaning back. “I couldn’t find anything besides the bullshit when I dug out Soldier Boy's old archives. Same thing when I… tried to find my mom– ‘cept everything on her was long gone. Whoever’s on that paper of yours is probably a ghost by now. Literally and figuratively.”

Ben swallowed thickly. Chances are that this 1-G person is certainly dead by now.

John’s mother was certainly dead by now.

But he wouldn’t jump to conclusions until it was time. Just as Ben was about to remote to his work terminal, the oven timer went off.

“Thank god.” John whined. “Staaaarving!”

Over the following weeks, Ben had become wholly consumed by the motivation to find anything about John’s mother. He’d dug through the paper archives every chance he could, even going as far as enlisting some help, but there was nothing.

Ben began to believe there was no trail to follow when one of the staffers he’d paid to assist emailed him a scan of a very old, yellowed notepad.

Pretty sure I found something, the email read. It’s hazy, but it looks like notes from old trial runs. Found it in a junk folder of blurry scans from one of the old ward doctors. Gonna keep looking for more.

True to her word, the staffer even went and drew an arrow to the section she’d found. Instead of 1-G, this Doctor James Waltz person wrote it as ‘Patient 1-G: Gillman.’ The writing was barely legible under the color of a coffee stain, but it was more than Ben had to go off of mere minutes before.

Gillman.

Ben immediately replied to the staffer, practically begging her to send anything else in that file– or at least give him details on where to find it. Blurry or not, he wanted everything he could get his hands on.

It was the gold mine he’d been looking for.

Despite the poor image quality and faded ink, Ben was able to find significant amounts of information on the initial test subjects for Compound V. He had to dive deep through hundreds of file folders to find anything about them– which left him concluding that someone hid these rather than follow the original order to destroy them.

The name Gillman had been his golden ticket. He’d found the liability waiver she signed, partially torn, left with only ‘illman’ remaining on the line – but still distinctly the same name. Ben cursed the record keeper of that era to hell for adding to his frustration.

It seemed everywhere he looked– old genetics testing records, ability documentation, and experimentation records, she was simply dubbed 1-G. All he wanted– needed was a first name. From there, maybe he could track her through public records beyond Vought, but there was nothing.

Except for the harrowing details in her record, that is. Despite the lack of a first name, Ben was able to piece together patient files with mention of her to create quite a… horrifying picture.

Enough to leave him sick to his stomach.

The Doctor Waltz fella who’d been all too kind and revealed her last name also had been to her what Vogelbaum was to John– if not a thousand times worse.

Downright evil, even.

Not every patient survived the Compound V trials. An exceptionally small number of them made out like kings, sporting powers with zero side effects. They’d received the same strain Soldier Boy was given.

Ben considered the dead to be far luckier than those who landed somewhere in the middle.

The unsuccessful strains of V had one of three outcomes: instant death, powers that killed the wielder shortly afterward, or– in the case of John’s mother– the body survives empowerment, but the mind does not.

His mother was left in a state of rageful madness.

As Benjamin pieced together mangled papers and deciphered blurred writing, he was able to construct a vague idea of what happened to her.

Roughly one day after injection, she’d come back to report malaise, but was written off by the doctors. By the second day, Vought had brought her back and contained her in a special cell.

Patient aggression exceptionally high. Engages with hallucinations. Refuses to eat and will not speak to psychological team. Containment failing, recommend sedation.

Notes following were conveniently lost, but picked up roughly two months later. Only problem being that they were almost entirely illegible from what seemed like water damage.

Because of course they’d be damaged.

What was left of her patient reports painted a devastating picture.

Homelander’s mother became a ward of Vought. She’d been the only subject to lose herself that Vought caught before she could come to harm. Waltz had found her ripe for experimentation after studying her abilities. They’d opted for round the clock sedation.

Keep her docile.

Flight, strength, and laser vision were among the descriptors they used. Damn near identical to Homelander’s abilities– lacking his invulnerability. A modern mind could look at this and realize that, along with Ryan’s inheritance of John’s powers, this meant there did exist a genetic component to the development of superpowers in those injected with V.

That understanding, though, was only a theory for Waltz back then.

–breed a new line of heroes.

Subject tissue sent for testing.

The possibilities … ……. mother of modern supes.

–extraction of eggs–

It didn’t take an exceptionally bright mind to realize what had happened to her. A shiver ran down Ben’s spine as he read more and more.

They’d used her as a fucking incubator for their experimental ‘purebred’ supes. For years, she was kept like cattle– artificially inseminated with sperm from promising supes until they’d written off her ability to carry children. After that, they simply harvested her eggs and used an undisclosed method of growing the fetuses to term.

The list of failed subjects was…

It was far too long.

Before Vogelbaum, there was Waltz.

Vogelbaum was not the father of the method by which John came to exist– but he was the first doctor to achieve a perfect creation.

Waltz had the blood of children on his hands. Infants, toddlers. Children beaten to death in combat tests. Children drowned in aquatic efficiency tests. A new subject every five to ten years, it seemed.

Killed in surgical procedures.

Destroyed by their own powers.

Murdered by a madman’s curiosity.

All of them lacking that one thing that made John the exception that he was.

Invulnerability.

Well, that and DNA infused with Compound V.

Waltz retired before his project saw success, passing on the mantle of monster to Jonah Vogelbaum.

Fuck, Homelander may not have even been Vogelbaum’s first subject…

The last note Waltz ever made on John’s mother was in 1986. A new hire slipped up during an operation on her brain.

She died that same day.

It had been the shock of a lifetime when, upon scrolling the dwindling remainder of Waltz's notes, he stumbled upon a faded polaroid. Though it was hazy, there was no denying what he was seeing.

Laid back in a reclined medical chair was an older woman. Long, gray hair. A gaunt face. Expression void of anything. IV lines leading into her arms reflected the flash of the camera.

If he squinted hard enough to combat the blur, Ben could thoroughly see a resemblance. He'd know that face anywhere– those big blue eyes, high cheekbones, thin lips. The curved bridge of her nose.

God, John looked just like her.

And now?

He’s all that’s left of her.

What they’d done with her remains was a mystery, but Benjamin almost didn’t want to know what more they could have possibly done to the poor woman. He felt sick. Bile burning in his throat as he pressed his face into his hands.

He goes out every day and represents Vought. Represents pure evil under the guise of heroism. Fell in love with one of their seemingly infinite amount of victims…

In the weeks it took him to find the end of her story, Ben would hold John tight every night. He’d stare down at his love’s sleeping form and go back and forth in his mind on whether or not to tell him. The thicker the file, the heavier his guilt. Each printout only made it worse.

Would it hurt him? Certainly.

But, it might also close a chapter in his life that John had been so desperately trying to decipher.

Alternatively, it could make everything infinitely worse.

He knew he had to tell Homelander the truth. The only problem was getting the words to quit sticking in his throat every time he tried.

He could tell there was a strain between them with this recent secrecy of his. Where he’d been so late at night, why he wouldn’t talk about it. He stopped pretending he was swinging around the city and just settled for saying work kept him late.

But how could he tell him?

Hey, I found your mom.

It seemed like a ridiculous statement, especially because he didn’t actually find her– just traces. There was no headstone, no urn of ashes.

There was nothing left of her except yellowed paper and faded ink.

As it happened, the pot boiled over one day. Ben hadn’t even realized how bad things had really gotten until the morning John clung to him in bed, preventing him from leaving.

“Is there someone else..?”

The question had taken him completely by surprise.

“Is that why you can’t tell me what you’ve been doing?” He followed up, voice cracking no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “Where you’ve been…”

“What?” Ben rolled over to face him. “John, I–”

“I’d understand.” Homelander shook his head, avoiding eye contact. Tears leaked freely from the corners of his eyes. The dark circles lining them let Ben know he hadn’t slept at all last night. “I’d hate it– I’d hate it so fucking much… But I’d get it.”

The dwindling of his self worth screamed so loudly in every word.

“No!” Ben gripped him, his own eyes clouding. “Never! No, god no– never!” He pulled him closer, burying his face in Homelander’s chest. “No. No, Johnny.”

He didn’t wait for Homelander to speak before he spilled everything. All of the guilt inside falling off his tongue in stammered confessions.

“I didn’t want to– I…” Benjamin breathed, shaking his head to collect himself. “I didn’t want it to hurt you, I just… Not until I knew it was enough to be worth the hurt.” He moved away to look at John, a hand at his cheek to thumb soothing circles. Wasn't sure if he was doing it more for himself or Homelander. “And even then– fuck…”

Ben took a deep breath.

“I’m… I found your mom– sort of, I mean. Not like I actually found her found her, but what happened to her, at least.”

He gulped when John didn’t reply. Instead, that unwavering, wide blue stare begged him to continue. There was something in his eyes… Fury, perhaps. Fascination– absolutely. But, mostly, fear.

Fear that whatever Benjamin was about to say would reopen a lifelong wound held together with makeshift bandages. A wound that would unravel and gush the second something picked at it.

“I found a paper trail. Buried deep in junk folders where nobody would ever think to find shit that matters. Been a big puzzle to put together but…” Ben sniffled. “I can bring home what I have, but I just… I didn’t want to drop that on you without a final answer– and, god, I didn’t want to risk hurting you either. I wanted to find her for you, but it took so long just to even get her last name and I still don’t even have the first na–”

“What is it?” Homelander demanded, eyes widened as though he were in a frenzy. Perhaps he was. “What’s her name!? Is she alive!?”

“Gillman.” Ben replied instantly, the weight of secrecy falling from his shoulders with every bit he revealed. “Her last name’s Gillman. And… by rights, I guess yours is, too, but… no. No, she’s… she’s gone.”

The realization he’d never know his mother crashed over Homelander in waves so violent Benjamin could physically see it happen. He watched John begin to crumble, gradually unraveling more and more until he choked back quiet sobs.

“S’why I asked you that one night about placeholder names… I should’ve just told you upfront.”

Homelander shuddered. “1-G…”

“Yeah,” Ben pulled him close. Of course he knew that name. “That’s her… I’m so sorry, honey.”

Homelander was fully prepared to find he’d been abandoned by the love of his life. Kept around out of sympathy, but abandoned nonetheless. He’d practically convinced himself entirely of it. He wanted to be angry– furious, even. He wanted to grab Ben by the shoulders and shake him for keeping this hidden, but god.

His mother.

The mere thought of her shattered him, and all he could do was plead.

“Show me. Please, Ben– I need to see…

Benjamin spent the day gathering everything he had, abusing Vought’s unlimited employee printing access to duplicate seemingly endless amounts of paper, piling it all into one big folder. He’d warned John about how ugly this would be. How horrifically they’d treated her.

He didn’t have the heart to tell him about the others just like him…

Benjamin felt almost awful walking through the door that afternoon, shuffling in to find Homelander sitting on the couch, simply staring into space. No TV, no book or phone in hand. Just lost in his own mind, leg bouncing restlessly.

“Hey,” he whispered, drawing his love back to earth.

John shot up from where he sat, making a beeline straight for Benjamin.

The web-head had the file extended for him to grab immediately. Homelander snatched it like a child does a toy they’d been excited to finally receive, though excitement seemed to be replaced with dread.

He looked at it for a time, staring at the dense rubber banded folder as though opening it would unleash a black hole that absorbed the whole world. He was afraid to know.

And Ben knew it, too.

“C’mon,” he rested a supportive hand against Homelander’s shoulder. “We’ll do it together.”

He guided John to the couch, heart clenching at the way his blue eyes never strayed from the folder. As the papers became harder and harder to read, Ben had to help fill in the blanks on smudged words he’d deciphered himself. He had half a mind to tease Homelander about never wearing his glasses, but it was far from an appropriate time for such things.

Homelander’s expression grew grim as he read on, and they’d barely cracked through an inch of paper before Ben was encouraging him to take a break.

John’s breathing was uneven, eyes stinging with tears, teeth clenched in fury. His body was too hot, skin too tight, his head pounded. The audacity of the request sent him over the edge.

“How the fuck do you expect me to stop!?” He roared, snatching Ben’s hand away from the folder. He bit his lip, desperately trying to don his mask to hide his emotions. “What, y-you hand me this and now you want me to– no!”

“Okay,” Ben breathed, hands held up in surrender. “I just don’t want it to be overwhelming, y’know? This took me months to get through, and I know how I felt. You’re getting all this right away, and it’s a lot, and–”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Ben gulped, recognizing a burst of rage that once would’ve triggered a crimson glow in those ocean eyes.

“You don’t get it! You don’t fucking get it!” Homelander grit, teeth bared. His eyes accused Benjamin of betrayal. ”You have a mother. A father. Brothers. You have a family. This is all I get! Just a bunch of goddamn paper! So don’t you dare tell me to fucking stop!”

He expected this, but it never did soften the blow to know it was coming. Benjamin knew damn well Homelander would lash out eventually, emotionally fragile as he was given the situation.

The wall crawler shut his eyes as more abuse flew his way, simply taking it.

The dam would burst as soon as the rage faltered. He could practically time it to the millisecond.

“You– I don’t–” Homelander stumbled over his words, breaths coming in and out erratically as he fought to pretend he wasn’t coming undone at the seams. “Nobody– god fucking damn it! N-No!”

When Ben opened his eyes, it was to the sight of John leaned forward, hiding his face into the folder as he fought the lurch of a deep cry.

“It was never supposed to be like this…”

His own eyes pricked with tears as he watched Homelander break.

“I always…” Homelander’s voice leaked in a tight, throaty whisper. “I used to imagine what I’d do if I ever… ever met her. All I could ever think of was hugging her, but… I couldn’t even picture it because she was never real. I used to think if I did find her, maybe I’d feel okay… Like it’d make up for all these years.”

He nearly flinched when Ben began to rub soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

“I always wondered if she’d be proud of me, you know? Her son is– was The Homelander, after all. She’d have been proud, right..?”

Ben didn’t know how to respond– or if he even should. All he could focus on was the sorrow twisted on Homelander’s face when he finally lifted his head. The tears staining his face. A streak of snot that would’ve humiliated him were he in a clearer state of mind.

"D’you think she would've loved me..?"

Seeing him break like this made Benjamin regret having ever gone looking for Homelander's mother. And yet… somehow this felt right. Watching him finally feel it. Filling in the pages of his missing parentage after so long.

No… he needed this.

"She would've adored you, pumpkin." Ben worked the file from Homelander's grip as one takes meat from a lion that trusts them enough to allow it. Almost immediately, Homelander leaned into him. He ran his fingers through John’s hair, rocking him slightly. “She’d have loved you more than anything in the world.”

He wanted to say more– god he wanted to say so much fucking more… But he couldn’t. Nothing came to mind. Nothing that would’ve dulled the hurt in his love’s heart to make it all easier, anyway. There was one thing, though…

She was never real. The line reminded the wall crawler of what he’d left out of the folder, fearing that it’d shuffle loose and be lost on the swing home. He was about to throw the egg beater into the already boiled-over pot, but this is what needed to be done. One more thing his discoveries could heal with fire-like agony.

"Johnny..?"

Ben slipped his hand free, reaching behind to his back pocket, pulling free a little photo. He'd printed and laminated it before leaving Vought Tower, just to make sure the incoming tears wouldn't stain it.

He handed it over face down, and the look on Homelander's face said he knew what this was.

"This is… That's her." Homelander stared for what seemed like forever. Fingertips danced across the smooth surface as the tears rolled freely down his cheeks. "S'my mom," he rasped over and over again. "My mom…"

"Takes a little squinting on account of the quality," Ben sniffled. "But you look just like her."

Homelander breathed a laugh, finally wiping the mess of tears and snot on his sleeve. In time, his breathing began to even out as his cries tapered off.

"She's so…" John paused, sucking in a deep breath, holding it tight as he took in every detail of her. "She's beautiful."

Ben wrapped an arm around Homelander once more. “Hmm. Like mother like son, huh?”

Homelander looked as though he’d been given the world and had it taken away all at the same time. Perhaps, though, that’s exactly what this was.

In the span of but a few moments, he’d lost her all over again despite never having had her to begin with.

It took some convincing for Ben to finally get Homelander to stop reading and take a break. Help me with dinner, he’d asked once his love finally calmed down.

John seemed worlds away as they worked, not even realizing how he was reacting to what went on inside his mind. Benjamin realized he probably should’ve just let Homelander relax and collect himself.

“Babe,” he murmured, thumbing away a stray tear on his cheek. “That’s not how we salt the pasta.” A joke was all he could muster to try to alleviate something. “You can go sit down or something if you’re still working through it, y’know. You don’t have to–”

“No,” Homelander interrupted. “I’d rather be here.” He reached up to hold Ben’s hand against his cheek, staring back into those chocolatey eyes that always warmed him to his core. “Can you just… I– Give me something that I gotta focus on. C’mon, spoil me a little.”

Used to be that he’d take that offer and sulk. Let his sorrows drown him bit by bit until he was right back at square one - just as miserable as the day he’d lost himself. Ben always encouraged him to channel his negativity into something productive, but he never followed through. Never picked up hobbies beyond reading history books and watching movies.

But now..?

“Chef Johnny,” Ben grinned, proud as could be of his love. “You’re gonna learn to make a mean margherita pasta today.”

He figured he’s changed quite a bit over the years after all.

Homelander struggled to balance his focus against the raging thoughts of his mind. Minding the aromatics sizzling in the pan while flashes of what they’d done to his mother jarred him. Focusing on Ben’s instructions on what to add, what seasonings paired best with the chicken, the gentleness of his love’s touch as he held his hand to show him how to properly rock a knife to cut fresh herbs.

In the back of his head, he saw her. His mother, wired to those machines just as the doctors had done to him. Instead of what he’d always imagined - hugging her - he saw something else. Heard something else as he saw her, felt Ben’s hands on his.

Mom… I made it.

In the weeks following, Benjamin helped him absorb the rest of what happened. Sat with him while he wept over the siblings he’d never know, the grief of knowing he wasn’t the first, the relief of knowing he was - hopefully - the last.

It was a lot. A lot of crying. A lot of anger. Misery. Resentment.

But he worked through it.

The web-head eventually returned to his regular crime fighting antics and balanced his home life once more. In the meantime, he’d commissioned a headstone. There was so little to go off of, and no body to bury, but it felt right to put her to rest in at least some way. This, he kept a secret from Homelander.

It was a surprise for later.

Once the time came that the cemetery notified him that it was in place, Ben nagged Homelander all day to go for a walk. Well, more like a swing.

“C’mon, it’s important!” He whined. “You’ll like it.”

“We can have a date inside, you know.” Homelander huffed. He was perfectly content not suffocating in crowds of people, and he’d like to keep it that way.

“Yeah, but inside doesn’t have what I wanna show you,” Ben stuck his lower lip out. “It’ll be quick. I’ll swing us there. Land in a nice smelly alley. Just a walk across the street, okay?”

Homelander sighed, pushing his glasses up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Fine.”

“Great!” Ben chirped, pressing an enthusiastic kiss to his cheek. “Be ready in a few.”

The swing there was leisurely. It included a stop by a flower shop for roses, which Homelander questioned endlessly.

”You don’t need to buy me flowers,” he feigned a complaint.

”You’ll see.” That was all Ben had to say on the matter before they were back in the air.

He clung to Ben like a leech as they sliced through the air, high enough to avoid being photographed, but low enough that Homelander’s renewed fear of heights didn’t have him on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He focused on the flowers he’d been holding in a death grip. Pressed them against Ben’s back and stared into the petals.

When they finally landed in the promised smelly alleyway, Homelander furrowed his brow. From the path to the sidewalk, he could make out a graveyard.

“Ben?”

His little spider held out a hand without a word, leading him out, across the street, and through the iron gate.

He had an inkling of what was coming, but it felt like something out of a movie. Holding hands with the love of his life, walking through a monument of lives long gone, feeling the autumn breeze gust through the knitting of his sweater.

Homelander practically fell to his knees when they came upon it. His legs wobbled as he approached, flower stems creaking under the grip of his fist. He let his fingers touch the stone, tracing the letters engraved into the face.

Gillman

192?-1986

He hugged it. Didn’t know what overcame him, didn’t even know he’d done it until the cold marble pressed against his cheek. Didn’t even care that it pressed his glasses harshly into his temple.

He hugged his mother.

Homelander didn’t hear the shuffling of leaves under Ben’s shoes, but the hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.

“Thought she deserved it, y’know?” Ben murmured, thumbing against John’s blue sweater. Part of him worried his lover would’ve been upset - maybe gave him grief over the fact she wasn’t actually in there. ”You deserve this, too.” He pressed a kiss to Homelander’s hair, then stood. “I’ll give you some space…”

Benjamin was ready to go for a stroll until a hand caught him by the sleeve, tugging him back down.

John was silent for a time, simply resting his forehead against the chilled stone, warmed by Benjamin’s arms draped around his neck. Ben figured he was simply thinking it instead of speaking, but then…

“I made it, mom.” With the love of his life embracing him, and his arms around her headstone, he pulled from the depths of his heart.

“I’m home.”

[artisahobby]

Critters and Crawlers,

I present to you the Glitter Shitters, the Hot Cross Buns, the Ash-Holes themselves…. The Crown Keepers.

Originally, I planned for the original Sexy Six but Morrighan, the sneaky rouge that she is, slipped herself right into the drawing.

[self-loving-vampire]

How you feel about witch and lillies? A yuri dungeon crawler where the yuri is actually part of the mechanics 😆

Man I remember hearing about this game 2 years back, forgetting about it, looking for it and then finding it when they released a trailer. Back then the marketing was only on facebook lol

Also flexing my obscure game awareness 😎

Double feature: How'd you feel about Labyrinth of Zangestu? it did get an english release mid last year. I thought the game was amazing. Very stylish and fundamental DRPG. Would wanna know your thoughts if you tried it

Can't really comment on it since it hasn't come out yet, but it has been on my wishlist for a while.

I haven't played Labyrinth of Zangetsu at this tim either. Currently my "high priority" backlog is centered around stuff like the Might & Magic 6-8 merge mod, Wizards & Warriors (2000), and Ashes Afterglow.

That second one is of particular interest because while the game has a lot of jank, technical issues, and questionable decisions, I did hear it has extremely good dungeon design that I feel I could learn a bit from.

So far I have only done one dungeon, a crypt, and it was not bad. It hasn't really blown me away yet but it was not bad. It was somewhat non-linear and had a healthy amount of loops back to main areas, along with some navigational challenges that are not uncommon in older CRPGs but feel kind of rare in tabletop dungeons.

I heard a castle dungeon I'm not far from now includes an immortal demon in its throne room, which constantly taunts you and sends monsters to look for you while you explore the castle in search for the ritual artifacts that can enable you to defeat the demon. It sounds pretty cool.

Ashes Afterglow is not a dungeon crawler but a somewhat open retro FPS. Despite this, I think some of the ideas in its level design really fit with what I try to accomplish when I make dungeons. They have this combination of "interesting to explore and fight through" and feeling like actual places that don't exist just for gameplay. They have a relatively believable design in that sense.

In contrast, the dungeons in Might & Magic 6-8 feel a lot more like video game levels than real locations. Not to the greatest possible degree, but definitely leaning more in that direction. One thing that probably doesn't help is that they are all so densely populated, and not just with small or medium monsters either.

One dungeon I suddenly found myself in after drinking from a random well was a labyrinthine castle populated by about 500 minotaurs and drakes. Just massive packs of these large monsters that kind of raise a lot of immersion-challenging questions.