#blue batallion

[artninjasworld]

sorry that I am late, but I wanted to post these character design practice to commemorate the season finale of ranger rejects

[iconsdare]

xolo maridueña icons 🪲🪲

like if you save

daily reminder: BLUE BEETLE PREMIERE ON AUGUST 18TH

[negativepeanuthoarder]

Anyways I'm supposed to be working on other stuff. Here's a short Clone Wars AU snippet/story.

"What do we do now, General?" One of the clones looks over at Sapnap, his helmet shining pink in the light from the planet's star, which is beginning to set across the horizon.

Sapnap sighs, fiddling with the buttons on his lightsaber. "We'll keep walking towards the rendezvous point and hopefully meet General NotFound there." That's the best he can do - he can only hope that George had the same idea and won't try and go looking for him and his batallion.

They set off through the underbrush, moving carefully around bioluminescent plants and over the ground, which is soft and slightly bouncy, like a thick moss. There's no sign of the battle that shot down their transport, just the muggy stillness of the evening air.

The star sinks below the horizon line as they walk, leaving the forest full of cold night and blanketing blue fog. It's silent save for their footfalls on the moss. At one point Sapnap pauses to reach out with the force, hoping to feel a glimmer of George's force signature through the underbrush.

He can't get a trace of his friend - the force from the plants and the trees and the kyber crystal sand beach in a nearby lake is too strong, drowning out all other feelings. Fuck this stupid planet and it's stupid connection to the stupid force.

Sapnap sighs as they keep walking, watching as the clones flick on their helmet lights the darker it gets. He can see just fine, however, as his eyes are perfectly adjusted to the dim lighting, complimented by his force abilities.

Around a mile later, as they're nearing the camp he and George were supposed to meet at, Sapnap hears a twig crack overhead. He turns upwards immediatly, eyes scanning the darkness and his mind scanning the force around him. There's a force ripple but no other signature, which either means a bug just died or someone is cloaking themselves from him.

"General?" One of the clones to his left looks over at him. "Is everything alright?"

Sapnap takes in a breath. "Someone's here with us." He takes a step forwards, feeling the ripple in the air. "Force user. Back off and don't shoot unless I tell you too."

He'd rather face another force user on his own rather then let these poor clones die to their own bullets being shot back at them. The clones back up, leaving a wide berth around Sapnap as he takes a step forwards.

Behind him, in the darkness, something moves.

Before Sapnap can whirl around to face it someone grabs his shoulder, yanking him back against a skinny chest, and ignites a lightsaber directly in front of his face.

Sapnap gasps, grasping for his own weapon and igniting it in a blaze of firey orange, whirling it around to try and stab at his captor.

The person releases him and dodges. "Oh, it's just you."

Sapnap rolls his eyes, turning around to see Karl half-crouching in the underbrush. "Hi, Karl."

Karl grins at him. "Hi Sapnap. Back so soon? I thought you said you wanted to leave this rock forever?"

"I'm on a mission from the Council," Sapnap sighs. "Nolan crashed into the Jedi Temple yelling about civil war so Bad sent George and I to come investigate."

Karl makes a sour face. "Yeah. Um. It's complicated. Civil war is probably an understatement." He points to the brush. "Bring your troops, I'll explain on the way back to camp."

If the ruffled and messy state of Karl's fur, the fresh scratches on his lightsaber's hilt, and a couple of blaster scars on his jacket are anything to go by, the Beast system is entirely unrecognizable from when Sapnap saw it last.

-

No clue what Sapnap's species is tbh - if anyone has any ideas I'm all ears.

Karl is a currently unnamed original species lol - but his species is native to the Beast System, and appear as somewhat anthropomorphic tiger-like beings. They're pretty connected to the force (because their planets have a ton of kyber crystals) which is why Karl has a lightsaber despite not being a Jedi!

Not me blatantly ignoring Star Wars canon by making up whatever the fuck I want.

[lumilasi]

Chouma's update with his new wing design + decided to add his human form/past self of sorts into the same post given his and Cecil's trip to human world is essentially his own "main" storyline. (In the last pic Chouma still has his old wing pattern, but I was too lazy to go fix that too lol)

Side note: that red fluff is NOT part of his jacket, but his own moth collar.

Bio below:

Name: Chouma

Name translation: butterfly devil

Original name: Kousai Ryoma (Eye iris & 500-man batallion devil)

Nicknames: Chou-Chou (Youko) Sad fluff (Max) Kou (when human)

Age: He died/manifested around the age of 24, 5 years ago from current date

Height: 183 cm

Occupation: A rockband's vocalist/guitar (Former Yakuza as human)

Family: he was looked after by a special type of local light spirit called Shura & Chimera lady Shika, acts as a big brother figure for Shika's niece, a kid called Youko.

Love Interest: Cecil (A bakeneko who works as a hairdresser & is the brother of his bandmate's boyfriend)

Friends: Youko, Sebastian Kravchenko (Wyvern) Max Karuna (A naga) Kaspian Kravchenko (Also a Wyvern) Laurent (A sea serpent) Roman (Half blood lycan/Grimmhound)

MOTH SPIRIT LORE:

Moth spirits are human souls reborn in new form through what is called a Hive Tree. There used to be 7 of those, but after the Ancient War only 3 are left. Each tree attracts slightly different types of souls with unfinished business:

Amethyst Wisteria:  A purple tree which reminds a massive Wisteria tree in appearance, the spirits manifested by this one are typically those who were in some way significant people in their community, dying unexpectedly. Leaders, warriors, freedom fighters, etc.

Emerald Weeping Willow: A green tree similar in likeness to Weeping Willows, only again much more massive. Souls born from this tree were those with tragic, darker sudden deaths. These souls were typically killed by someone in a non-war setting (I.E victims of crime) or they died of self-inflicted injuries caused by mental distress of some sort. (Chouma was born from this tree, he was killed by someone overdozing him with a drug known as devil butterfly, hence his name)

Blue Lapiz Spruce: A large tree in likeness of blue spruce. The souls that this tree attracts are typically those who died in a freak accident or natural disasters. This tree tends to birth a lot of child moth spirits, given it is more likely for a child to die of a freak accident/natural disaster than be of a level of importance/die due to crime. (both are still possible, but rarer)

Moth spirits also correspond to the tree they are born from in color; Wisteria-born are purple with sometimes yellow accent colors, Weeping willow's creations are green with occasionally red accents, and Blue Spruce creates blue spirits with orange accents. Their names also typically indicate how they died in some way, or reference the setting they died in/a significant object related to it.

Born-Adult spirits recall their deaths with often some sort of trauma-related response left in them, whereas children tend to not remember at all; it is a supposed form of mercy by the Hive trees, granted to the youngest souls.

The way moth spirits complete their "unfinished business" is more symbolic, rather than directly going to those this regret is connected to. (Often this'd be impossible given those people may be long gone themselves) For example, they perform the same action/reach the same goal they didn't do during their past life: confessing your love, helping with something you didn't help with, etc. It is in that sense, not a do-over to fix what you already did, but a second chance to not repeat your mistakes.

Powers:

Basically the entire moth-spirit roster: Flight, butterfly poofing like a vampire, spitting acid or webbing, destructive shriek, stab & fireproof wings, pocket dimension to store stuff in, ability to coat areas into darkness with his butteflies I.E pull something into his pocket dimension. De-manifesting his wings if needed. Sleep inducing vibrations from his antennae.

Excellent singing/songwriting skills: He is a musician, and suspects he was one even in his past life, which is very likely the case.

KNIFE: Chouma is actually pretty good fighter, especially with knives. It is another remnant from his past life, where he was quite notorious even among his own group for being brutal in fights.

WEAKNESSES:

His death-induced weakness that majority of moth-spirits have, is his fear towards showing himself in the most vulnerable state to someone he cares about, because he was likely found dead by someone he loved. In turn, he ALSO doesn't want people to catch him off-guard, given his killer was a backstabber who he thought he could trust.

The mere idea of either happening is enough to send him to a panic attack sometimes, which is why seeking help when he really needs it can be extremely difficult for Chouma. Once he starts to awaken his "Grudge" he might also become aggressive towards people during these moments.

Grudge, is something a moth spirit may develop if their regret they are seeking relief from has something extremely negative attached to it, such as wanting revenge as in Chouma/Kousai's case. This can make them act extremely irrational and obsessive, to the point they become a danger to themselves and others.

PERSONALITY:

Chouma is mostly fairly quiet and introverted person, who only shows his flashier side when performing, appearing far more confident in himself on stage than he truly is. He prefers to be left alone and only hang out in small groups, with people he trusts. Lot of his avoidance towards the more typical rockstar life is due to his death as a human, and he's very mindful about his drinking, let alone how he acts in certain situations, such as around kids.

While he tends to come off as calm and maybe even a bit out-of-it/tired on the outside, he's bit of a ball of anxiety, and can be very trigger happy in some situations, where he's accidentally hurt people with his powers. Chouma always feels awful about it, of course.

As Kousai he was much more aggressive but also had genuine confidence. He was also stubborn, impulsive and extremely petty. Both sides do share their tendency for strong loyalty towards their loved ones (and a habit of blushing madly over their bf)

EXTRA FACTS:

Chouma is often seen hanging out/babysitting his honorary little sister Youko, and her aunt has theorized that Chouma used to have a little sister when he was a human, which is why he took a liking to the kid so fast. (This turns out to be true, although his human sister had passed already by then)

While he is often seemingly the most intimidating looking member of the band, he's actually their Poor Baby Cinnamon Roll (tm)

Chouma's memory of his past life is a bit patchier than Yaguro's, a fellow moth spirit whom he has met through his "caretakers" and has a lot of respect for. His hairstyle was actually inspired by Yaguro's samurai bun.

This patchiness turns out to be because his Grudge was put in deep sleep when he first manifested, hence he couldn't remember much anything.

He likely died somewhere between the 80-90ies.

Chouma is pan

Their band's name, The Showman's Lament, originates from Chouma's musings about his past and tragic death, how while he's thankful of his new chance, he still mourns his old life.

The logo was inspired by his wing pattern.

His outfits are typically designed/he chooses outfits so that his fluff collar doesn't have to be stuffed inside them, as he finds it uncomfortable.

He is very careful about his drinking, having the tendency to party much less than his friends. They both understand it, knowing his personal history and don't mind.

Chouma is not typically one for conflict, but he is willing to defend his friends if needed, and has gotten involved in fights alongside Sebastian a lot. People tend to find him the scarier one between the two, despite Wyverns like Bass generally having a more fearsome reputation.

This unconscious unease towards Chouma is very likely caused by his sleeping Grudge, and generally his old personality still lingering

He was born from the Emerald Weeping Willow tree, hence his green color.

The tattoo he has on his back as human is the symbol of his moth side, and the fact it was born out of his death, which is why it appears like a skull in shape somewhat with Chouma's colors, the green flames below representing a soul.

[eliseamann]

You look out of the window and a whole batallion of cops is standing around the car. Slowly but surely you start to panic. You pull on your handcuffs, but they won���t move. Tears run down your face, as the realisation of what you did hits you. Suddenly you hear a voice: „See? I told you he would do it!“

You raise your head and see two people sitting in the front of the car. It‘s dark - except for the red and blue lights erradic flashing everywhere - so you have to squeeze your eyes together to get a better look at them.

„That was hardly fair play“, the person in the drivers seat says dismissively.

You are confused: They are not wearing a police uniform, but something that looks like a white suit. Yet somethings seems off about it - but you can‘t put your finger on it…

„Not my fault that you didn‘t specify the rules!“, the other person laughs. Their voice sounds happy, but kind of sharp.

„Excuse me?“, you ask weakly.

The laughing stops and the two turn around. You still can’t see their faces clearly in the dark. But the red and blue of the lights are reflecting in their eyes.

„Sorry little one“, the happy one says and sounds almost kind, „it’s nothing personal. But it seems like you have been at the wrong place at the wrong time.“

„I didn‘t mean to kill them“, you whisper weakly.

„I know“, the one in the drivers seat says softly „you are a good person.“

„And yet he killed everyone. And all it took was one day!“, the other interrupted and giggled.

The driver sighned. You can see how they are giving a envelope to person riding shotgun. „Alright, alright. You won. Are you happy now?“

„Of course. See you next time, darling“, the other chirps. You blink. And suddenly their seat is empty.

„Sorry again about that“, the person in the drivers seat says. „I can‘t bring them back, but maybe this will help a bit…“

The door next to you opens. A police officer begrudgingly leans inside and opens your handcuffs: „Seems like you are free to go… We caught the guy who really did it…“

You blink a few times. „Hngh…?“, is all you can bring out.

You look back to the drivers seat. It‘s empty.

After a thousand years of being stuck in this Groundhog Day scenario, you mentally snap. and kill everyone in the town. later that night you go to bed fully believing you’ll wake up living the same day, but you were surprised to wake up, cuffed in the back of a cop car.

[starsofthestorm]

i hate how difficult it is to just say what i like or dislike or plan to do in marching band without being questioned.

me saying "i dont really like cymbals tbh. theyre just so painful and loud and im just not a fan" leads to: WHYYYY THOUGH. WHYY. THEYRE SO COOL THEYRE SO COOL WHYYYY WHYY DONT YOU LIKE THEM

if i say "i just dont want to march. im not that desperate to be in dci" im told: but theyre always taking cymbals and stuff !!!!!!

when i say "i want to try and join batallion before i go for world class" im told: WHYYY THOUGGHHH they have a shorter season and theyre not world class and they arent blue devils ect ect

like girliepop. i explained why i dont like cymbals. i told you that i want to join dci as a marimba that is my dream. preferably either xylophone or marimba- i cant stand dealing with the pedal and i DONT. WANT. TO. MARCH.

i told you that i want to join batallion first. every reason you stated is literally why. "well dci wants you to have experience first" yeah thats why i want to do btal. bestie you tried going straight for bk and got rejected (she did get into cascades though <3) but the guy who did btal and then bk made it so. just saying

i want to join btal first because theyre still the best open-class, and that way if i end up just not enjoying it i wont go farther into world class and pay a fuck ton of money to hate everything. like btal isnt cheap but its cheaper than most world class???

i think i have a much better shot at making btal as a marimba player and then getting to troopers, which is my favorite drumcorp, than i do for just going straight for. any world class drumcorp like. its fucking hard and my favorite instrument is the hardest one to actually get a contract for

[ssunvulcan1981]

Pokemon Ranger's Guard

Left: Red is 1st Infantry Regiment, CRMA Cadet Regiment

Middle: Yellow is 1st Marine Battalion

Right: Green is 1st Infantry Battalion, 2nd Infantry Regiment, 3rd Parade Battalion

Pokemon Ranger's Guard

Left: Blue is Air Cadet Regiment, 2nd Infantry Battalion, 11th Infantry Regiment

Middle: Sky Blue is Air Cadet Regiment

Right: Purple is 21st Infantry Regiment

Pokemon Ranger's Guard

Left: Pink is Air Force Regiment, 1st Security Force Battalion

Middle: Yellow is 1st Field Artillery Regiment

Right: White is 3rd Infantry Batallion, 1st Infantry Regiment

Pokemon Ranger's Guard

Left: Black is Naval Cadet Regiment

Middle: White is 1st Engineer Battalion

Right: Gray is 1st Cavalry Squadron

[awkwardexxodus]

BLUE BEETLE TICKETS BOUGHT LETS GO BATALLION

[beautiful-basque-country]

There's this myth that Spain was neutral at WW2, when actually it was a "non-warring" supporter of the axis.

Franco sent out 45,000 soldiers to fight for Hitler in the Soviet Union in a batallion known as Blue Division; it was his payment for the German help throughout the Spanish Civil War.

Many of these men signed up voluntarily, but many others were forced to sing up as a repressive punishment. The regions with less voluntaries were Euskadi, Nafarroa, and Catalunya.

󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 The defeat of the Third Reich.

by dodi_maps

[artninjasworld]

just practicing drawing blue battallion character designs. Redrawing anime characters make great practice.

characters from ranger rejects belongs to Negi Haruba

[iconsdare]

xolo maridueña as blue beetle icons 🪲🪲

like if you save

a daily reminder: BLUE BEETLE PREMIERE ON AUGUST 18TH (august 17th for brazil)

[astraves]

Hands Running Circles

THIS CORRESPONDENCE TO BE DESTROYED UPON REVIEW

Ouvedhe,

In the months since my arrival to the region cartographers are calling the Dragon Isles, what I have witnessed is not beyond words, though the concerns here are myriad for the unkempt condition of the landscape.

As more public sources have likely documented, thus rendering the bulk of my report redundant save for the Ministry’s own records, dragons present from all known flights count themselves among the island’s residents - including the oft-ill regarded Black, and the vastly-diminished Blue.

The dragons have, among themselves, ongoing politics to resolve between themselves and their ongoing roles, not only within the world abroad but also among their own endeavors. Largely, there is cooperation, though as one can expect there is little presence from the Blue flight, and internal contentions within Neltharion’s (i.e. Deathwing’s) brood hinder their ability to provide a more cohesive advance.

The greatest threat to the isles stems from a group calling themselves the Primalists - cultists of a variety of dragon caught halfway between their original state as elemental creatures and something akin to proto-drakes. This has brought with it the attached documents, many of which were carried among the cultists themselves, regarding the nature of the Titanic Ordering of Azeroth as a whole.

Not only is the validity of such an action in question, but it also brings to the fore several points of historical concern such as the reasoning for the Ordering, the state and function of the Black Empire, and the conditions of the world prior to actions more readily theorized about to date.

The lot of it reads like conspiracy, and can be dismissed as propagandized nonsense.

I would recommend that any proliferation of these documents be halted within Suramar, and that those above you are informed of the nature of these articles so that their dissemination in the Horde (and perhaps the world) abroad be prevented.

If the Primalists bear any semblance to the Twilight’s Hammer and its satellite covens, they would only salivate at the chance to reach out to civilian populations in order to begin recruiting.

We simply cannot afford the gross loss of bodies, as I can assure you from personal experience that there is only a “Join or Die” mentality among them, and there is no shortage of death.

Localized problems endure among the isles as a result - smaller groups align themselves with the greater Primalist collective, ranging from burning giants to rogue centaur tribes, and thankfully the Primalists remain a centralized issue.

This issue is actively being dealt with. There is little mystery afoot.

There are beings - dragons, spearheading the Primalists’ efforts. They appear to be such elemental proto-dragons as mentioned before. The first, Raszageth, was felled by a collective endeavor of acting parties throughout the Isles. There is a second now, named Fyrrak. It is, perhaps, more imposing, but these creatures can be killed. The concern for this one in particular comes by delving into Neltharion’s bygone facilities below ground, and the utilization of an amalgamated force known as Shadowflame.

Where the elements rage, the Old Gods have proven to never be far behind.

Should conditions worsen, I will inform you and advise from the field as to what our next motions should be. For now, there are enough third parties from Suramar as well as one of the Duskwatch’s more well-funded cavalry batallions providing a face for our city and people in the fray.

There are similar representations among the Horde’s federated states, and of the Alliance, as well as your given mercenary operations.

I will continue to lend my abilities toward resolving these obstacles. If the reported situations change in any direction, your offices will be informed. - E.O.R.

[numbersareimaginary]

Funeral Registry: -Bone whitening agent, Industrial 55 Gal Drum, For Taxidermy Play With Children Home Necromancy. $2,312.32 on Amazon with free 2 day shipping. -Pompadour Wig (FormID 00165602) (50) -Googly eyes, 100-pack -Flag, Custom Print Text: "3rd Skelton Batallion" over crossed bones and blue banner -Shortswords (50) -Little round bracers (50)

Rsvping to my own funeral or something idk

[astraleulogy]

finally remembered the dream i had last night

[oh-for-fic-sake-library]

The Saxon Heathen

Masterlist

Summary: jarl geralt is excitedly awaiting the return of his raiders, aboard one of the longships was his gift from the allfather. His vision was of a saxon heathen, a woman. His intended. Butlittle did he know that this woman would eagerly butt heads with him , for she belongs to no one, least of all an albeit handsome brute.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of brutality, viking AU,

A/N: so a little au jarl viking geralt and a crazy pagan saxon for you.i always wondered what a a viking would have done with a saxon heathen. Anyway i hope you enjoy my little slice of madness.

Caution not beta'd ignor the typos because i am.

Four days. For four days the jarl had been on the dock watching the horizon. Waiting for the sails of his clan to break through the thick autumnal fog, the grey that muted the blue of the open sea. He was like a statue, unmoving, patiently gazeing out in to the distance with purpose awaiting the arrival of his gift.

The jarl was not built for this longing. He conquered, argued and roared in the midst of battle. He was true to his clan, fought and bled for them, re-emerged from deaths grip countless of times. Others called him a gods champion. A chosen of odin, which spurred his own clans feirce loyalty to him. Especially when his hair had turned into the brilliant white before his ageing. His eyes had always fascinated the others in the village , the light amber akin to that of wolf. Earning him the title of White wolf. Yet now with his hair he truely looked otherwordly. Some called him asgaurdian others uttered he was and odinson. But truth be told he was unsure what caused such looks. He never questioned the gods, never asked for reasons, only ever wprshipped them.

And now his unyielding love and loyalty to them had brought forth a boon. Geralt jarl of Rivia had been granted a vision, a premonition from the very gods he adored. The seer of the clan had shared in his minds sight, it would seem the gods did not see fit to give the wolf privacy on such matters.

The vision told of an arrival, a great boon from the gods. A warrior. A woman. She will step on this shoreline with a fierce fury that only the valkyrie should know. She was a roaring fire that would know no taming, a force to be reckoned with. A strangly familiar saxon, who was not a weeping wisp of a thing. He dare say she was a a distant cousin of his own kin. For in his vision he felt a pressence similar to a sheildmaidens.

All he knew was this female entity was intended for him. She was a gift from his gods. His treasure from a distant land, she was here for him. He would captivate her and lure her to his side. Like a flame beckoning a moth he will become irresistible to her, she will come to him even at the risk of peril. And once he insnares her she will birth him his heirs, gift him his own batallion of fierce warriors to conquer new lands.

Geralt knew it was close, his warriors were returning home and would land anyday. So he sat and watched, sometimes fished to pass time, showing the younger ones how to cast a net properly to keep them from under their parents feet. But mostly he was still, gazing out into the fog that thickened each day, the autum veil signalled the return of his clansmen. He needed to remain and see this woman as she set foot on his dock.

It was the deep bellow of a horn that alerted him. He drew a deep breath, steeling himself as he heard their call. The resounding long drawn low sound of his clansmen and their yells as they took to the oars and began sailing through the small estuary towards thier home. Others came to the beach and the once quiet dock became a hub of excitement. And with swift stroke along the water the long boat peeled through the fog, the mast sliceing through the smoke like tendrils of ashen coloured sky. He grinnedmfeeling his chest tighten with an odd relieved anxiety. He couldnt wait for them to moore.

You screeched as a rage youd never felt before engulfed you like the very flames that curled around your home those weeks ago. Your battle cry drew the attention of everyone on the docks and long boat's. Saxons and norsemen. Before anyone could stop you, youd jumped the side of the boat and thundered down the dock towards the priest whod dared to comment on your mothers passing. Curseing you and her with scathing words as he exited the boat in shackles with the other Christians.

You had enough of his shit.

You tucked your head and shoulder slightly as you colided with one of the large norsemen that had tried to stop your assault. The huge male had shuffled quickly, widening his arms and bent his knees ready to capture you before you could damage any of the others. But his strength and size did not best your utter rage and you somehow managed to barrel into him sending him off balance and into the cold frigid water below.

Years of rage and hate for the male before you seemed to gift you with the power of something greater. And without a second of hesitation you ducked and body slammed the now yelling, quivering preist sending him to the ground. Your hands may still be tied but you were going to kill him. You were going to kill him!

Your scuffle drew a crowd as you began screaming at the priest who was crying out for help. But the norsemen watched in amusent as you headbutted him cracking his nose drawing a high cry from him. He fell flat on his back and you clambered over him pinning and kneeing him, stomping and kicking where you could. All the qhile screaming like a banshee at him, taunts and curses a-plenty.

The norsemen had noticed on the voyage that you were different. The other saxons spat at you naming you a heathen. A pagan. Two words they didnt fully understand but were used to describe themselves. From what theh could understand you did not worship the saxons god. And the saxons hadnt known you were in the woods, you were belived to be a myth.

Your cabin was hidden away from the settlement they had plundered, decorated in bones and feathers with oddities placed around the door. Carvings and cut stones littering your tiny homestead. You were almost like them in a way.

"Ill be sure to send you to your god! You vile fuck! She was my mother! My mother!!" You yelled tears burning your eyes as your rage flowed freely. You rolled around twisting your hips and captured the preists head between your thighs and hooked one ankle behinde the other.

The norsemen laughed clapping and whistling ,uttering praises as you coiled around your victim like a snake, and much like a snakes prey, the preist could do little more then squirm and squeak. But you paid no mind instead concentrated on popping this snivelling man head clean off his shoulders.

"How does it feel to be sent to your god from between a heathens thighs!?" You shouted hooking your ankles together and clenched your thighs tighter. He flicked his feet out in desperation but nothing would distract you from your task. Not even when the crowd parted letting a huge silver haired male step to the front and watch the show. You felt his arrival but did not pay any mind. You were too preoccupied with attempted murder.

Geralt watched with a sense of pride.his woman was spirited, wild and beautiful. Her thick mane of glossy hair whipped about her as she wrestled on the ground with the poor male. Hecouldnt help his cock twitcing at the sight. Her skirts hiked up around her knees as she captured her prey. The thick mud painting her skin as she tried to murder the man.

Fuck. his eyes locked on the supple yet strong thighs clamped around the males neck. He was almost jealous of her victim, he wanted to feel the sliken skin of her inner thigh caressing his own face. Though when it was his turn to test the strenght of her leg it would be for an entirely different reason. She would tense them around him in ecstasy, not anger.

"Gods above, they did not lie." The seer hummed almost as entranceed by the seen as his jarl was. He didnt bpdare look away from the valkyrie before him, instead only speaking when he felt his jarl stand beside him.

"Indeed she is truly magnificent, to grow with such ferocity in a land full of cowards and piss ants" geralt replied a grin crossing his face as his female began taunting the godly man. She was ost definitely a heathen.

"Huh? Oh what your speechless?! Nothing to preach whilst being strangled by skirts!?"your qords drew laughterfrom all of the northmen some even calling out silver coins betting on how long the preist would survive such an assault.

"She has a wit about her as well as fire. You are truly blessed" the seer chuckled along with the others. He knew she was ging to fit right in. And possibly give their jarl a challenge, the next few ,onths were going to be amusing. Though the allfather granted geralt this delightful boon, the jarl was still going to have to work for it. Afterall the gods need to create their own entertainment occasionally. And this was certainly entertaining.

"Jarl- should we intervene?" One of the men asked growing weary of the priest now beginning to change colour. A deep red fading to purple.

"No, for now let her have her fun." Geralt uttered still enjoying the sight of his half bare queen rolling around in the mud attempting murder.

"She will kill the slave, you know this" the seer utters knowingly. There was a slight displeasure. Geralt had swore the next priest caught would be gifted to him. The seer wanted to toy with one of the saxons. To try and break them ad convert them to their own gods.

"It would be a good death, to die between such supple thighs" another clansmen spo,e up with a deep laughothers joined his laughter agreeing with him. Gerlat stiffened and shuffled on his feet. He did not like that one bit.

"I doubt the preist feels the same."

"It is not death i shall obtain between them, but perhaps a taste of valhalla-" the first man began but didnt get to finish his statement as geralt snarled feeling a wave of possessive jealousy risewithin. He turned on the man so swiflty the later almost staggered back defensively.

"She is not to be touched. Any who try will loose more then their hands" geralt sneered at the crowd of men thatwere clearly planning on trying to have his woman for themselves, perhaps all at once.

Gerlat panted in rage, eyes darkening a growl boiling in his chest frightening those around him. It was rare to see the jarl so enraged outside of the battlefield. They all looked away averting their eyes from their jarl and the woman on the ground. None wanted to cross him, or risk his anger by eyeng the beauty.

It was when geralt was sure he made his point that he looked away from the men. His amber eyes found his woman oonce kore. He grunted, as much as he enjoyed the veiw of her bare legs he did not li,e that the others could also appreciate the sight her supple skin. Her body was for his eyes. Not theirs.

"Jarl? You are considering a slave? You never; its unlike you to take intrest in the saxons past their gold" one male dared speak up when he noticed his jarls attention was back on the woman.

"Slave? No. She is much more then a mere saxon slave. She is a gift All father sent me visions. A ferocious saxon beauty would arrive. My own woman to tame, and when i do the clan will prosper. We will all enjoy the favour of the gods!" He declared, trying to ignore the tense few moments he'd had with his own clansmen.

The crowd cheered as the jarl promised the blessing of the gods. He smiled, but his eyes peered at the two warriors who had tried to taint his new found bride with there mocking words. They each shrunk under the predatory gaze thwt earned him his name. And then nodded back off letting theier jarl know they would not interfere with the gods plans.

Geralt smiled befor stalking up to the woman and blue priest. He chuckled it was both arousing and adorable the way she trapt him so thoroughly. He couldnt wait to get her wrapped around him. Though he may hav to wait some time before letting her mount his own shoulders, she had a good grip and even he may have some trouble pulling her off if she decided to suffocate him with her thighs.

You ignored the way everyone around you seemed to quiet down, or the footsteps that halted beside you. Two muddy leather boots stopped by your head, your eyes flicked up the pength of male and found a truley magnificent man. The odd silver hair and amber eyes addedto the godly ethereal look. Not that he was slight in any way. Taller then all saxons youd seen, and wider too. Not that he was fat, no his size wasnt a result of greed and there was no typical beer belly. He was solid, strong as an ox.

"Release him woman" he grunted down at you tapping you with the toe of his boot lightly whilst crossjngnhis arms and smirking down at you amused. You snarled at him wordlessly before drawing a muffled yelp from your victim tensing your legs once more.

"I said release him" the man repeated his voice stern and deep, full of warning. You shuddered unable to stop the strange wave of heat washing over you. You thighs stiffened pai fully, trying to clench from his growled words. You frowned you didnt li,e thatat all. No man had ever effected you in such a way. It only fueled your rage.

"Not untill hes dead! He thanked his god for my mothers painful death! Celebrated her burning alive! Cursed her soul! Tried to condemn her to an eternal suffering!" You yelled up at the tall pompus ass. You were trying to be angry at him, but something was stopping you. Attraction maybe? No. Somthing else, something deeper. Your soul recognised him, seeing him was like kin who had been astranged finally reuniting. His mere presence felt like thick blankets on a cold day, safe and warm.

"He is a valuable slave and will serve us well in the coming winter. Now release your thighs lest i pry them open myself woman" You faltered for a moment, you tummy tightening.our pussy fluttered at the insinuation. Your eyes flicked to his large hands. God's yes. You wouldnt mind being handled by him, thats for sure. You shook your head ridding yourself of the momentary weakness and bared your teeth at him.

"Try it old man and youll be next!" No geralt was definitely not letting you enjoy his mouth for some time. A punishment youd not know he'd given you untill you had given in to him. Though if he had done his job right by that point youd rather ride his cock each night.

"I warned you woman" he shrugged before ducking down, bending over you scalding you with his hands as they descended on your bare legs. You yelped out loud and cursed him as he slotted a palm between your tights, the other hand encircled one ankle. And with a sharp shucking motion as if flicking out a damp towel the preist was free.

"Agh? Hey wait no! Let me go: get off im almost finished!" You screamed wriggling, kicking as the huge man held you up by your thigh and ankle. He laughed at your curses and vengeful cries. As you saw the deathly blue priest scrabble away from your reach gasping for air.

You squeaked as the amber eyed asshat swooped you upright, throwing you around like you were a tiny weightless child. And without any care to you or the onlookers you were pressed against his crotch tightly. Legs instinctively locking around his waist, and arching towards him afraid of falling back. He hummed and held you, supporting your entire weight with one hand under your bottom. You shuddered as the other still held your ankle behind him. The hot palm slowly rubbing across your leg in teasing feather light caresses.

"There now. Doesn't this feel much better?" He boasted, teasing you by arching his hips into yours lettig you feel his manhoods delight at havingmyour heat smothering him. Your face flamed as the others around you laughed at their jarls supposed victory. You werent having that.

"Id rather have my thighs wrapped around the preist if im honest" you sneered at him drawing even louder laughs from the crowd. You grinned as he frowned quickly, a wave of embarrassment rushing over him,he was unprepared for that.

"We'll see about that when you are astride me." He replied, archign up into your heat once more only thing time he made a show of rubbing you against him, grinding you over his bulge with the hand on your rump.

"Doubtfull" you stuttered trying to keep the pleasure from your voice as your body ignited in a blaze of wanton need. Your warmth clenching tightly urging you to wlecome this barbarian into your hidden depths and discover true rapture.

"Shall we put it to the test?" He tried again to subdue you in a battle of wills. But you were determined to be more then a sodden hole for these savages! Youll be a force to be reckoned with!

"Oh so not even you know the outcome of me atop of you? Not a promising start" you countered, your stubborn pride far to precious to forgo for a decent fuck.

"As good a start as you trying to murder a preist in the dirt with your thighs seconds of entering my village"

"Atleast mine was effective"he scoffed at you before capturing your neck firmly. Tucking his hand tightly below your jaw making you whine and melt against him. He smirked inching his face closer to yours slowly, seductively. Tilting your face up to his and brushed noses wih you as if you were intimate lovers.

"Not that effective. Afterall you didnt finish. But i assure you once your seated on me you will most definitely finish" his tease took a turn, making you flush brightly and gape at him. It wasnt his words that affected you, but the intensity. The way he held you so firmly, held your gaze with his own half lidded hungry eyes. And the way his cock throbbed against you, teasing you with sharp pulsing tremors that made your own needy center weep. You squirmed trying to dislodge his thick member that had crept between your parted legs. His own breeches were the only thing that seperated his need from your own quivering sex. You swallowed dryly trying to think of anything other then the strong male's club poised at your womanly seam, or the way you dampened his breeches with your deceptive arousal.

"I appear to have subdued you quickly enough with little more then words and collar. Do not look so vexed, it is a good thing to know when you are outmatched bu your betters; FUCK!" His victorious words were cut off with a pained yelp as you did the only thingmyou could to shut him up. Used your head. Litterally.

"Im sorry did the big bad barbarian, who clearly outmatches me not see that headbutt coming?" You teased ignoring the pain blossoming in your fore head after hittingnhim so hard with it. You smiled at the sight of blood pooling behind his now fattened lip. If you go down you'll go down swinging.

"I dont see how you didnt see it? I am six inches from your face;HMMFFT!?" Gerlat lunged forward with a growl pressing his lips against yours before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. For a moment you lost yourself, closing your eyes and relaxing as the taste of honeyed mead met your tongue. You lapped at him in a iitten lick seeking more only to pull back yelping as his teeth locked onto your lip and he bit down. Hard.

"YOU FUCKING BIT ME!?" He smiled at you hungry licking his lip, drawjng the bead of red from it. Tasting you with a pleased growl. You could only stare at the erotic sight.

"Blood for blood woman. And now ours is mingled. We are bound by it." His words made you weak. You werent sure why, or what he meant exactly. But you were not something to be taken claimed and owned.

"Bound by blood? Are you fucking crazy?! You drew blood!" Your anger boiled in your bones as you began to understand he thought he had just earned himself a prize. Instead of denying you claims he grinned showing off red glazed teeth.

"I did, id not let a woman so Fiesty escape me, your fire will bode well for our sons" he preened, flaunting his new claim proudly. He couldnt care less if you disagreed. And oath in blood was unbreakable. And it had been you to initiate it,He had simply retunred inkind seali g the deal. He had won.

"Sons? Hell no! Put me down-unbind me! Now you fucking savage!!" Your aggravation ignited once more into a loud display of rage. You swore at him , squirming and lunging at him, yet did not bite in fear of binding yourself to him a second time in some odd barbaric custom!

"I will unbind you once yoou when you yeild to our bond and not a second before" he anounced casually

"Then i will die in these shackles!" You declared with a snarl.

"I very much doubt that. But fear not drakeling. I shall tend to your every need in your bound state. You will succumb the gods have foretold your submission" he promised both soothing and baiting you. He enhjoyed your rage, especially the way you squirmed in the throes of anger, rubbing and grinding across his fornt unintentionally milking his cock in his own clothes. All the while his teaseing had achived his desired effect he found himself granting you the title of a dragons young. Drakeling was fitting, small and mighty. Something that will grow into a powerful, fearsome beast, but for now was a mere sliver of its own greatness.

"Absolutly not! Put me down you asshole! UNBIND ME NOW!" his reply was a swift open palm to your backside, loud and booming making you rise and squeak as your ass burned.

"My my such a demanding thing you are~ so aggressive. Perhaps you need feeding? Tell me drakeling, should i see to your cold empty tummy? Would you like me to fill it for you?" He teased turnng towards the long house paying no mind to the way you yelled and kicked at him. He laughed and held you tighter. Deciding in that moment he really would keep you bound. Youd be fed by his hand alone, he wouuld tend to you, wash and dress you, cater to your every desire until, you bend to his will and sought him out for your own pleasure and comfort.

Thats not to say he wouldn't pleasure you in the mean time, he would. His nights would be spent worshipping your body, toying with you for hours on end untill you are a quivering woman panting in a puddle of your own makeing, though youd never finish, or have the honour of warming his cock. No, he would withold that final pleasure untill you were his mind body and soul. And he couldnt wait.

"Come let us feast!" He called out to his clan. The crowd cheered excitedly. The night would be one they would all remember. Even if it was just because of the blood bound saxon heathen putting on a show for all to see, their jarl was certainly in for a long courtship.

[fireemblems24]

Scarlet Blaze Ch 5

Onto Ch 5. Spoilers beneath the cut.

STORY

Edelgard is a master at making enemies lol. But I guess that's what happens when you want to conquer everyone.

Lonato and Rowe being dumbasses lamo. Edelgard, your allies suck. And Lonato's purely motivated by vengeance too. Messing up plans, getting all those people killed.

MAP

New facilities. Batallions and blacksmith. Yesssss.

Also, you know in one of the past battles how Seteth wrecked Petra and Ferdinand? Well, can confirm, that I'm on casual and not classic mode lol. They're still here.

Randolph is so fucking boring.

Poor Petra got the same dialogue she did with Byleth about liking hot over cold. Couldn't they think of anything new for her to say?

SHEZ & HUBERT C SUPPORT

I'm excited for this. Hubert is by far one of my favorite Black Eagles. He's just so unapologetically . . . Hubert.

Wait, I can pick getting jealous of Edelgard, for getting to train with Hubert. 100% this. I love so, so much the more varied answers here.

I love how Hubert's making this huge deal out of a commoner getting the honor to train with Lady Edelgard, like it's some oh so rare present you're lucky to get, but like . . . Dimitri and Dedue? Half the Golden Deer are commoners? It's not so rare as you think, bub, it's just Adrestia lacks any commoners in their route.

I really think Adrestia puts way more importance on rank.

FERDINAND & LINHARDT C SUPPORT

Linhardt's design is very pretty in this game.

Linhardt's a good artist if he can copy it exactly.

Side note, I hate realism in literature. Mark Twain is torture for me.

Ferdinand asked for a portrait. I mean, if I looked like Ferdinand, I wouldn't mind a realistic portrait.

Ferdinand's quite full of himself, lamo, calling himself the personification of nobility. Poor Linhardt.

SIDE BATTLES

Extra quests are basically monster fights? Are they worth it?

"If we were done with you, we'd kill you, not abandon you." Good, old Hubert. He was talking about Shez's powers.

Edelgard's redesign screams anime magic girl princess.

"Did Hubert threaten you? Don't let it get to you." She's really dense, hunh. Most people don't like getting threatened by the second in command.

"Enemy Rodrigue appeared." MY HEART. Noooo. Didn't like fighting him at all.

Petra wants to go on an expedition with me. How could I say no to her? That was a bit underwhelming. All that stuff with the horses just felt a bit like a waste of time.

Only female units challenge. That's interesting. I'm guessing there's a male units only challenge coming along?

I don't want to fight Gustave :(

On a side note, this game really suffers from "I must retreat" syndrome.

MAIN BATTLE

Fog of war. My favorite. /s

LAMO why is it every time someone sides with Edelgard, they're evil? And working with TWSITD? Like Rowe.

I don't like Caspar's hair. It looks like a pincushion.

NOOOOO, Ingrid's here. Nooooo. I refuse to fight her. And I think I heard Jeralt.

Lamo, Lonato died. Gotta restart.

Oh, thank God, Ingrid retreated.

Aww, poor Ashe is upset Lonato betrayed Dimitri. :(

Edelgard "family should never fight family." Girl, you started a fucking war. What did you think would happen? What an ignorant sentiment from someone who takes her actions.

Lonato's a fucking idiot too. "I could not bear to lose another son." Maybe then . . . don't try to kill Rhea because she killed your son when he tried to murder her????

Did Alois abandon his family to join a bunch of mercenaries?

Have to admit, having Byleth be nigh unbeatable really makes the whole "ashen demon" thing seem more legit.

STORY

"This victory will further our conquest." - To anyone still arguing she's not after conquest.

I'm guessing this dialogue between Arval and Shez is going to appear on every route.

Got Ashe, feel weird about it though. Like, I love him, but it feels so, so wrong to take him from the other Blue Lions so far. He's all alone. I'm sure that'll eventually change though.

Go Glouster, hahaha. This is amazing. He was working to wreck the Empire the whole time. Did Edelgard really think people would welcome invasion with open arms?

Edelgard is getting her ass kicked 🤣😂👌

Claude wanting to spare lives. It's not your fault. Edelgard is solely responsible for every death here. Let's not forget who started this.

xxxx