#bravely vanguard

[choueiyuusubs]

Break your spell - Psychic Lover Brave the Storm (2014)

[netherdevil]

cosplaying glen sounds so fun(ny) bru but iam not making a fucking SHARPIE BATH

[ljaesch]

Crunchyroll Announces Two More Simulcasts for the Winter 2024 Anime Season

Crunchyroll has announced two more simulcasts for the Winter 2024 anime season: Brave Bang Bravern! Launch Date: January 18, 2024 at 9:30 a.m. PST (both the first and second episodes will premiere) Territories: Worldwide, excluding Japan and China CARDFIGHT!! VANGUARD Divinez Launch Date: January 12, 2024 at 3:40 p.m. PST Territories: Worldwide, excluding Japan, China, North and South…

[carnelianwings]

Started rewatching 2011 CFV again Because Reasons and I just kept thinking of this as I watched that episode of Aichi dropping his Royals deck and grabbing Ren’s Shadow Paladin deck with both hands so I’m reblogging this again because it really is one of the main reasons I’ll always love the 2011 series the most out of the 4 we’ve had - 2018 Aichi just doesn’t have the same impact as a character, in my opinion.

Also adding that I love how Aichi acknowledges there’s a part of him thats an Arrogant Asshole and that it’s a part of him, and because of that both Blaster Blade and Blaster Dark are his avatars, and he can draw strength from both of them. I also love how he never blames PSYqualia for his behavior (it really would’ve been easy for the writers to do, to have Aichi say “Yeah I was an Asshole for the early rounds of Nationals, that was because I was Power Tripping”) and recognizes that it was a choice he made, a bad one at that, but it’s one he’ll own up to. Obviously he manages to get a hold of it during Asia Circuit, and certainly by Link Joker he’s got a good enough handle of the ability that he can use it to keep himself from getting Reversed (possibly out of sheer will power) to save Kai. And then by the end of G it’s activating and it doesn’t even change his personality one bit, only leaving the part where it allows him to connect better to his units to help fight Gyze’s (ooze?) minions.

I’d originally put 2011 CFV on as a “Work life sucks, I need something with my favorite seiyuu in it to relax (and maybe escape to) for a little while every night” back in 2020? 2021? (early pandemic time was a blur of dealing with assholes in retail hell daily) and that first season really got me. And maybe I needed to hear too, it that it’s okay if there’s a part of you that’s an Asshole, but being one and hurting others with your words and actions is entirely your own choice (so I choose not to be an Asshole at work, and even if the mistake is mine, recognize that I don’t have control over how someone else reacts to me or any message I relay to them, no matter how nicely worded, and if they Choose to be An Asshole, that is indeed A Choice they’re making, especially if it’s also due to circumstances outside of my control).

All of this to say - Sendou Aichi is hands down my favorite card game anime protagonist (and definitely in the running for favorite shounen anime protagonist), and I will play a Majesty Lord Blaster deck in every format I can, because every time I see that card I remember Being an Asshole is A Choice.

Things I wish I could see more often in fiction: Have The Hero reach out and accept The Corruption wholeheartedly with both hands and getting absolutely Drunk On The Dark Side until The (Friendly) Rival (or The Crush, sometimes they’re the same person even) swoops in for an I Know You Are In There Somewhere Fight (with a side of “This isn’t you”/”Remember what you originally wanted to do”) and a massive helping of (homoerotic) Ship Tease. Those arcs always hit just a little different when it’s the hero who gives in and accepts it with both hands instead of having it forced upon them by the enemy. There’s something about it being a Personal Choice that’s just so much more impactful.

It also provides a lot of good context for The Hero’s speeches later on if there’s another repeat Corruption Arc and it’s their allies (or Crush, take your pick) who ends up on the receiving end of The Corruption because then the empathy and compassion the hero shows through their speeches isn’t just lip service - they’ve been there before and knows how it feels and how awful they felt after. It also means The Hero forgiving said allies almost immediately makes sense - their allies did that for them once, this is The Hero doing the same for them. It adds so much depth to the All Loving Hero that I wish they’d do it a little more often.

[meggannn]

avad excited to finally ditch the crown to join aloy and leave the sundom, arriving at her mysterious base for his first adventure just to be greeted by a glowing machine that immediately knows his name and entire history, his missing vanguard captain and missing sunhawk, a tenakth marshal from the clan that nearly jeopardized his embassy, the first utaru brave enough to fight the carja in the red raids, and a bizarre person from an advanced imperialist nation across the world all sitting in a lounge archiving apollo and blasting jackson five while aloy is in the corner playing space invaders with one hand and coding hephaestus with the other next to her apparent fucking twin and the asshole who founded the eclipse threat that kept his brother prisoner and nearly ended the world

[nyashykyunnie]

˗ˏˋ Sung Jinwoo x Terminally ill Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 023 ✦ ┆・

‼️[ TW: Terminal Illness, Angst to Fluff, Solo Leveling Spoilers ]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅ Part 2 || Part 1 ♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

╰┈➤ ❝ [ We'll Try This Again, Begin Again with Zero. But This Time? I'm Never Letting You Go. ] ¡! ❞

Living felt more like a punishment more than anything. The pain he goes through starts feeling more and more deserving in his eyes. He was pushing himself to the limits when he shouldn't, he's punishing himself over a sin that wasn't really his fault.

But if anyone tells him that, he wouldn't look back at them. He would ignore their concerns.

He has a duty to uphold anyway, a duty that only he can do as a monarch.

Jinwoo has ultimately grown to be a vessel of war thanks to the system.

He didn't really care much, he already placed insurance to his name if anything happens to him.

When he's gone, his remaining family would atleast live off of something.

He has already watched his father die too thanks to the godforsaken monarchs.

What more can he loose?

Over and over again, he puts himself in the battlefield, exhausting himself on purpose, never even sleeping nor eating.

He was just fighting like a dog.

Well, dog's get much more care than what he does to himself, so does it really count?

It doesn't matte,r Jinwoo physically cannot be exhausted.

But mentally? It's a different story.

He wasn't really depressed, at least, that's what he tells himself.

He really felt numb, not exactly sad, not exactly happy either. It's as if his emotions lie in the middle.

Jinwoo felt hollow, completely hollow.

As if he were merely nothing more than a puppet in war.

The only thing that really urges him to move forward is the distant sound of his beloved's voice in the back of his head.

And soon, after he had finally murdered the Monarch of Destruction— He would be granted a wish.

Battered and tired while on the floor, he thought of what he could possibly ask from the rulers.

Thought of?

No, Jinwoo already knew what he wanted.

It was to turn back time.

To meet old friends again, to stop the gates from opening, to have his family whole again

,... To meet you again.

Yes. That's right. All of this was for you anyway.

Jinwoo recalls that memory very clearly, how you were still in the hospital bed and you two were playing a game of cards while he tells you about how he plans to be a hunter soon.

Your words were quite cute really: "I hope Woowoo becomes a really strong man!"

Those silly, innocent words of yours.

Up to this day, he still smiles lovingly whenever he remembers that.

He became this strong not just for himself and his family who needs him, but for you, the brave little soul who endured that illness—

Jinwoo fought for you

And since he is given the opportunity to correct the past, he requiested for time to be rewinded.

Right then and there, a brilliant flash of white would engulf the earth, bathing it in all it's glory. eradicating all traces of the lifeforms and shadows there is to this pathetic universe. For once in a million years, the earth was beautiful again. It looked like a star gleaming along with countless others.

Soon, Jinwoo would wake up to the sound of his baby sister's calling. Jinwoo would sit up, gently smiling at her.

It took a while for everything to sink in, for everything for him to realize that this? All of this was reality.

How badly he wanted to find you in the time he spent, for just a few weeks, he enjoyed being a child again.

Laughing with friends, screaming at others for a vanguard or healer in the pc cafe— He wanted to find you in an instant. But not right now.

He took care of some stuff first.

Your illness wont awaken until then after all.

27 years, he spent time in that goddamn dimensional crack fighting monarchs and all that crap.

When he was done, he finally came home.

Just as he set foot back in earth again, he went straight to the hospital.

April 9th of spring, where the pink petals bloomed and flew around the air— This beautiful but tragic day.

Was the first time you had collapsed and coughed out blood.

It started with your lungs, to your kidneys, to your heart, to everywhere.

You had metastatic cancer.

Coughing up blood was only the start.

And Jinwoo had come home just in time.

He didn't even ask for directions, he just went straight to your hospital room.

He knew this godforsaken place better than the doctors and nurses himself after all.

As he pried open the door, there you were, resting on the bed staring absentmindedly at the pink trees outside your window. When yopu heard the sound of the door, you turned your attention to Jinwoo.

Dazzling and innocent eyes, just as he remembers. Your youthful face, free of any sign of wrinkles. Still chubby and plump that he wanted to just kiss your cheeks all over.

As you called out his name, Jinwoo marched over and embraced you tightly.

"I'm sorry, it took me a while" Jinwoo whispers ever so lovingly as he rubs the b ack of your head affectionately.

You were confused at first, wondering why your best friend is acting all cuddly and sappy when he totally did not disappear off of the face of the earth and come out of nowhere like some sort of boogey man. But regardless, you can't help but notice the traces of tears about to break from lovely grey eyes.

When you reached over to touch his face, his voice broke and he started crying almost instantly.

Panicked and confused, you pulled him to a tight hug.

Jinwoo was crying, and in his tears and broken voice you could hear the amount of anguish he had been bottling up, the brokenness in his heart finally being revealed in the open for you to hear and see. It felt as if Jinwoo was carrying a hundred years worth of burden. And you could do nothing more than to soothe him.

"I'm sorry... Ditching you out of nowhere and acting like a sappy pup wo got kicked" He chokes as he chuckles gently, "I promise, promise, that I won't leave you like that anymore. Just trust me, okay? Here, drink this."

He hands you a weird fantasy-potion thing with red liquid inside. You wanted to deny him of it but Jinwoo stubbornly insisted upon it, as if your life depended on it.

Well, tehnically speaking, it did depended on that potion.

After making sure you gulped down every single drop of the crimson liquid, Jinwoo pressed his forehead against yours.

Mumbling ever so sweetly; "Let's do this again, okay? You and me, goofing around. I'll let you eat as much sweets as you like, I'll show a lot of pretty things. Don't worry about anything else, Woowoo will take care of it."

Somehow, you felt that Jinwoo meant that on a deeper level. You felt like right now, what in front of you wasn't just anyone else, but someone ready to lay down their life for your sake. The person in front of you, you felt as if he was going to follow you to the ends of the earth to the stars above your heads. Somehow, it feels as if his words was a promise that he would follow you wherever you go.

He already lost you once, damned will he be if that happens again.

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[marosina]

EMA ice cream cards in Brave Order🥺🥺🥺

Eren & Armin are vanguard and Mikasa is rear guard c:

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Yo Man, when i look at your posts and answers to questions, i notice that if there is a chromatic crew involved, you have ideas on what to name the duo of characters (other than Cross and Epic they already have a name for their duo) . although "color spectrum duo" is often used, but recently when i saw you named the Delta and Killer duo, man, i was so impressed about that. even though those two are often rivals.

and i wonder. do you have any other ideas or thoughts on what to name some of the other Duos from the chromatic crew?

(while writing this question, I wanted to write that it was possible to come up with a name even for such a duo as Cross and Color, which have nothing to do with each other. but then I remembered that these two somehow figured in the story with Abyss Sans. so technically, they also interacted with each other (and yes, I also don’t know how everything happened there, so it’s okay))

For anyone who doesn’t know, similar to the way irriska (I believe) coined the term color spectrum duo for the duo of Color and Killer, I coined the duo names buttercup duo for Killer and Something New Chara and blood orange duo for Killer and Delta. (And also diametrically opposed duo for Color and Nightmare but that’s admittedly kinda lame.)

@zuzuelectricbugaloo i believe coined the duo name flavortext duo for Epic and Color.

For Cross and Color, I propose #crossbow duo. Perhaps a little less creative, but cross is there as both the name at the literal cross, and bow is short for rainbow and Color is very colorful and associated with rainbows. Alternatively, there is the name #crossfire duo.

For Cross and Delta, there’s #crossguard duo, or something like #sentinel duo, or #vanguard duo.

For Delta and Epic, perhaps #sundusk duo. It’s the only one I was able to think of real quick.

For Color and Delta, perhaps #emberheart duo. To refer to their heart shaped souls, and ember heart invokes imagery of both flames and a sense of a brave heart/soul. It also provokes imagery of dragons and phoenixes.

{ @ferociousperson }

[darkdemeter]

Dem!!!demy!!! My bestie

This idea has been going around the ol' nogging for a little. But part 2 of A Warriors Armor (punk!human) where the human has been making the horsemen their own punk vests as a way to Keep themself sane. (I imagine this especially applies to death's human after he yeets himself to the well of souls).

I Also imagine that their human takes their measurements with like...a maker measuring tape/hj(everything's easier when you use the maker measurement system,aka: everything is "fuck you" big)

And the horsemen's reactions are priceless. Their little human adopted them into their punk pack??(and maybe its about time they confess)

As always take ur time,Im sure you have a lot on your hands!!

(Pd: looking forward to dark feathers SO MUCH. but take as long as you need!!!/gen)

-Jeri🧡

・issue #2・ STYLE OF WARRIOR II

⚤ Death/Strife/Fury/War x GN Punk!Reader just fluffy content with some angst ✎ 2.6k

✎ a note from the author, Death: throws himself in the well of souls Me, remembering your fic: T R I G G E R E D hahahahha! yes I still get all emotional and upset when I even think about that fic! I gotta read it again.... 😂 here you go, Jer, part 2 for your punk request!

↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────

For your dearest Horseman, you'd do all you humanely could to achieve what they asked of you. You'd brave the depths of hell, you'd face off the vanguards of the White City in protest of their declared 'holiness'.

But you never expected this.

DEATH

Having finally taken his measurements, it's all about fitting it to him nicely. precisely... no nasty points--

"Human," Death snarls after you jab him with the needle for the fourth time in a span of 30 seconds. It's not your fault that every time your fingers linger so close it's like his presence possesses them to tremble with violent impulse. And every time you do accidently poke him, you wince and apologise, but at this point, you may as well just stab him with the damn thing if he's going to keep carrying on like a ragged animal being prodded at intentionally.

"Then stay still," you breath back easily and roll your eyes. The insufferable nature of this reaper sometimes. Alright, you may have had to convince him a little but overall, this was his idea - his request. You're just being a good companion.

Placing the needle between your lips, you say, "I'm almost done. Back a little straighter." Your words are muffled but he overhears the tone of it and its enough for him to suffer through the remainder of his fitting in relative, blessed silence; just the way you both like it. Your eyes occasionally lift up to try and capture his expression, no matter how pointless it is with that mask, you can read the eyes at least. His gaze is elsewhere and you decide not to intrude on his thoughts.

You work better when he's not watching you with the eyes of a looming hawk anyway. You weave the last thread through the tiny hole and begin to stitch the final adjustments of his vest, but that's putting a fashion term nicely and you humour him just this once. He didn't exactly want a tradition vest like you due to the nature of his skill set and you obliged in his request, but you still kept some semblance of a vest-like quality to your craftmanship. The design ended up being a sort of an additional shawl that draped over his shoulder, but with a little artistic flare, you made the shoulder portion imitate torn sleeves.

"Are you almost finished?" he asks, almost causing you to flinch and lose control of the needle's point again. With a sigh, you nod. "Almost. Just a little stitch here... and a bit there-- and done!"

You step down off the stool because yes, he refused to crouch down to your level. Stubborn old bastard but you care about him nevertheless. You balance on the heel of your foot, nervousness flickering through the fluster of your beating lashes and the way you awkwardly angle your head down.

"What'cha think?" You suddenly take an interest in the very long, sturdy leather strip you used as a measuring tape. Alya's measuring tape.

"Hmm... I like it."

His confession could have come in an assortment of ways, and you're kind of confused by it still, but his embrace was comforting. "And I like you too."

You've never forgotten that compliment or that confession. The way it brightened your mood and turned your lips into a large smile. You'll always remember the way his eyes smiled down at you, applauding your work in the new addition of his attire.

That's what you think about as you stitch up the patches and sew new relics and decorations into the black fabric. Tears in your eyes, you find it hard to not jab your own fingers, wincing every few seconds when the sharp sting of your needle bites venomously. Now you know just how poor Death felt being pricked by you. Fond memories that now turn dark in this hour.

He's gone now. Sacrificed his very being to revive your species and to spare War a punishment to a crime he did not commit. He gave it back to you before his encounter with the avatar of corruption - his once brother, Absalom. By the time you managed to pry open the doors of the chamber, all that remained on the ground was the placid face of bone, sockets void of that vibrant amber you adored with secret fondness.

You're not sure if he will ever come back or the fate of War for that matter. The tears blanket your vision with a thickness that hinders your work, forcing you to stop. At this point, you're needlessly sewing and threat into it, reminiscing in every little detail and every tiny sensation that travels through your fingers. You begin to wonder as you lower the garb into your lap, haunted by a loud, audible sniffle, if Death knew what his fate was and that's why he finally indulged in your little scattered hints.

You'll wait for him. You'll keep adding these stitches and touch ups until the reaper returns. However long he may find rest in the well, you will wait for him.

STRIFE

The gunslinging Horsemen truly was a marvel at times. Not only did it take him exactly 48 hours to ask you if you would perhaps consider making him a punk vest. Suffice to say, your affirmative answer earned you a bone-crushing hug and a plethora of 'thank you's thereafter. Strife was excited right from the get go and eager to help you find the perfect material that was both strong and big enough to make a vest made for his size. Now to get a form of measurement...

"Alright, arms out, chest out and shoulders back."

He does exactly as you say and maybe a little too well. You take a rough estimate of his limbs and body proportions and when you ask, "Do you want me to make any alterations so it's more... suited for... y'know, your work?"

He shakes his head and his golden eyes flare with a giddiness. "Nope. Just like your one."

Eyes blinking rapidly, you take a short moment to compose your surprise. "Right. Okay then, let's see what we can do about that."

It takes a considerable amount of days but you finally get your hands on the perfect fabric and thankfully, you find some other suitable patterns and clothing to add to it and give it that punk flare. Strife particularly adores this one stripe of pattern that decorates the hem of your vest and so you do your best to replicate it, even going the extra mile in finding a similar pattern to it.

During your small sessions of camp and in your adventurous search for a measuring tape suited for his size, he watches you with that same excitement, almost fawning over your work right there and then, eyes blending to the fire's glow.

"Uh, hello? Earth to Strife." The Nephilim with spiked hair finally awakens from his dreaming stupor and addresses you. You can sense the sheepish smirk behind his mask. "Sorry, where you saying something?"

Your lips fold back into a slight grin as you shake your head. "Nah. Nothing important."

He's in awe of the delicate handle you have with the needle but fucking hell, does he whine when you so much as graze him with the needle point.

"Ow!"

"Quit your whining, I barely pricked you."

"Still... that hurt," he grumbles and you snort a little at that. His visor set aside, you're given full view of his expression which is both a good and bad thing. For one thing you can admire his handsome features, but the other means you can tell exactly what he's thinking. From the slack and slight of his brows and to the bevel between, all the way down to the small dimples that form in his cheeks with a deepened smirk.

"It's good you found a measuring tape for me," you say behind a chuckle, actually taking in just how long it was... "Where did you say you got it from?"

"I, er... found it." His reasoning doesn't add up and his eyes avoid yours.

"Yeah, that's a way to not sound suspicious, Strife." You continue to press the needlework into the craft, adding unique little strips of stitches and filling in any alterations and requests on the way. When you want him to be still, he's like a statue. Which is every tailor's dream client. You remember the countless times your mother complained about her clients being unable to stop fidgeting. Of course, Strife has his moments where he can't help it, but with a warning glare and threatening poise of the needle, he's on his best behaviour until you're done.

Indeed a very traditional vest and to say he wears it well is an understatement. It's like he was meant to be a punk. All he was missing was the vest. With a grin, you take a step back and allow him his space to take in the garment, waiting with batted breath.

"So?" you finally press to ask. He twirls around before stopping hot on his heels with a loud skrrt, flashing you with his signature finger guns and winks.

"It rocks! By the way, you know we're a couple now, right?"

Your jaw goes slack and your eyes increase tenfold in their blatant stare up at him, your face becoming flushed with a certain heat. "W-what?!"

FURY

"You know, you'd probably make a really kickass punk queen - if that was in our culture."

Could you have flattered her more? Here you go again, yapping on about how well her hair suits the culture and how she should think on it at least. It does get a bit boring sometimes when you're the only punk left in the world. After a few nights of noticing your considerable moping, she bit the bullet and upon preparing to leave the next morning, she caves in.

"Would you... like to make me a punk vest?"

With a gasp, you turn towards her in a way that causes her to flinch out of instinct when something moves that fast. "Yes!"

The task now at hand of making Fury's vest is a memorable one. Whilst she slays the hordes of hell, the seven deadly sins and gains mutual alliances, there you are in the background of it all; collecting whatever cool scraps you can fashion together. It's not like she held the jaws of gluttony apart for you just so that you could get that piece of textured fabric. It's a very beautiful piece of studded leather.

Back in the safety of Haven, Ulthan happily allows you to use the maker's measuring tape to your heart's content. Not that he really uses it much, rather knowing his know-how off the tip of his experience but to the younger maker, it could be more useful.

"Ugh, this is taking too long," Fury sighs.

With a raise of your brow, you huff in reply, "It's only been twenty minutes."

Fury only rolls her eyes but she lets you continue. You do well not to get her with the needle, only having done it once and she threatened that it'd be the last if you did it again. And so you go about her vest with the utmost care, cautious about how far your depth goes and where your needle point is aimed at all times.

"Look at you!" Jones taunts from the other side of Haven with a wicked waggle of his fingers, mimicking a playful, mischievous wave. In return, you do the same such to Fury's dismay. It says as much by the slow turn of her head in your direction, the milky whites of her glowing, Nephilim eyes glaring down on you.

Your lips pull into a thinned line and you continue your work in silence, carried on only by the sternness of her gaze that occasionally swept over you. When you finally finish her vest off, you feel a sense of relief that it's finished. Sighing, you gesture for her to have a move about in her new vest, to take it in.

"Ey? Ey?" you hum. It's not your fault that with each passing second you become more consumed by the thought of seeking her approval. Not very punk of you but for the longest time now -- and maybe because of your crush on the female Horseman -- but you have become obsessed with her opinion and moreso, her approval of the punk culture.

"Humans and their pathetic utility to craft such--" she pauses, and then slowly turns. She's observing the vest, now she's look at it closer... and she smiles!

Victory!

"This is actually... rather well made," she says, voice soothing and laced with an impressed purr. Then her eyes meet yours and you feel your heart melt, your chest swelling as the heat in your face surfaces. "I love what you did. I think you were right, I would make an excellent punk."

WAR

To make a vest for War would be putting an extreme limit on his capabilities. Besides, you'd be stitching that thing together for the remainder of your days with the way he throws himself into harm's way and dashes right towards it like a beast on the loose.

So you have to improvise. You decide to pin it here, cinch it there and around the shoulder to connect to the pauldrons and there you have it: a shawl that he can add over the top of his red one. It took many days and many sleepless nights by the fire's light to see what you were doing and your fingers are covered in tiny dots and a few makeshift bandages. But to you, it was worth it. It kept your spirits up and it made dealing with the whole end of the world thing easier to cope with when you have a personal project to work on. And War would watch you, observant but distant.

And finally, time for the final adjustments. When you first measured War, you'll admit - it was a very big undertaking to make him a punk vest. But the way his eyes looked at you like a shy puppy as he softly asked, almost mumbling his words as if unsure of how to present such a question.

You couldn't say no! So you pushed that overwhelming sense of dread when you realised just how big of a canvas you were working with. You would do this for him, to let him have his own piece of the culture and allow him to be a part of it.

By no means did he become impatient. Or at least he didn't show that side of him, but every now and then he'd check in and finally when it came time for his final fitting, you caught the slight blush on his cheeks as he stood still for you.

For the few times you accidently poked him with the needle, apologies poured out of your mouth as if you injured the most precious thing in the world, only for him to brush aside your doting concern. You'd shake and tremble a little out of worry that you'd hurt him.

"There! all done," you announce and brush a hand over your brow as you take a step back to analyse your work. "You look amazing, War!"

"You truly think so?" he asks, his voice unsure. He looks at himself however much he's able to. It's not until you direct him over to an old store window, allowing him to gauge his reflection in the splintered window.

"See?"

"Your craftsmanship is one of a kind."

You stumble over a sentence of half stringed words. Even to you they were unintelligible and so you sweep some hair that fell over your eyes away with a sheepish smile. "Thank you. Do you like it? I know it's not a traditional vest like mine, but I tried my best to keep in theme. I didn't wanna comp---"

His lips caress the delicate space between your hairline and your words immediately cease.

"I adore it. Thank you."

[critter-genfic-events]

Alternate Meetings Fics!

Ever wonder what it would have been like if your favorites didn't meet in a tavern (or fighting some chairs?). Maybe if canon was a little darker, or sometimes a little kinder. Maybe they got to meet a little earlier, or missed their cue? Well, here's six fics that explore this behind the cut - and as always, comment and kudos if you like them!

kintsukuroi (broken pieces laced with gold) by Ford_Ye_Fiji (34932,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: Caleb Widogast & Nott the Brave

AU Series where Veth rescues Caleb from Vergesson

Reccer says: Have you ever wanted early Caleb to be even more messed up and Caleb and Nott to be even more codependent? Because this is the series for you! Lots of amazing hurt/comfort

The Star and the Wildflower by devil_seabird_king (ShaaKi) (8173,Teen) Warnings: suicidal thougts Pairings: Caduceus Clay & Essek Thelyss

A series where Essek is taken to the Clays for healing as a child, and meets Caduceus then

Reccer says: Usually when you see this pairing, it's at the end of their long lives - it's really fun to see how they could influence each other as children

Deep Seas, Deep Secrets by RedTeamShark (1496,General) Warnings: None Pairings: Fjord & Jester

They’re each other’s little secret. Jester, sneaking out of her room late at night. Fjord, swimming away from the safety of the depths. (A fic where Fjord is a mermaid and Jester visits him from the docks)

Reccer says: Mermaid Fjord! Fjord making a pact for legs! This is amazing!

Precipice by faridsgwi (29215,Teen) Warnings: Pairings:

In the early 800s, the Empire conquered and annexed the Menagerie Coast. Now, as the Dwendalian military machine continues to demand fresh recruits for their war in the northern wildlands, a group of young conscripts in Rexxentrum find their destinies drawn close together.

Reccer says: There's so much here! I love the concept and the worldbuilding, and it's fun to see how and when canon will intersect with the story - and what all has changed

where the ache came from by cestmabiologie (1703,General) Warnings: Choose not to warn Pairings: Laudna & Imogen Temult, Imogen Temult & Otohan Thull

AU where Imogen was raised with her mother adjacent to the Ruby Vanguard - Imogen and Laudna meet for the first time at the Malleus Key in the Tishtan excavation site.

Reccer says: It's so fun how this plays with canon and imagines an Imogen that was raised in a much colder environment.

Otherwise by Erisette (13783,Not Rated) Warnings: none Pairings: Kaylie & Scanlan Shorthalt, Scanlan Shorthalt & Vox Machina

"Every year you've been alive is a year I could have been a better person." (Scanlan meets Kaylie when she's a baby. It changes nothing and it changes a lot.)

Reccer says: I love every character in this and the insights into them. I just would've loved for the fic to be longer!

This is one of our weekly communally-generated gen rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. Please note that the summary and content notes are provided by the reccer, and may be different than what the author has provided. Please assume good intentions all around. <3

And hey, anyone includes you!

November 1st, it'll be time for Beauregard Lionett - followed by One shots, Imogen, and then Character Studies!

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

If you're looking for some more, check out some fics written in the critter genfic bingo tag, or the older rec lists! Or you can request your own card and join in on the fun!

[choueiyuusubs]

Vanguard Fight - Psychic Lover Brave the Storm (2014)

[i-hug-exploder-shanks]

A Cautionary Tale: Saint-14's Blunder

"Some still speak of the day, in hushed tones in the shadows corners of the tower, that Saint-14 fucked up.

The guardians know better than to speak the words too loudly for the great warlock Osiris is able to be anywhere and everywhere at once, but they have to warn the new lights of this cautionary tale.

You see Saint-14 and Osiris have faced unspeakable odds and still come back to each other with their bond stronger than ever. Their story is one of love conquering even time itself. So what could break such a perfect couple? What could bring the greatest love of the ages to a shaky edge?

It was not the hive, fallen, nor even the terrible vex. No my sweet blueberries, It was a bird.

Don't laugh, it's not a joke. Look to your elders and see their expressions little lights. Birds are no laughing matter in the tower. You have seen Saint's flock of pigeons, haven't you? Heard the tender way he calls Osiris his phoenix?

But this bird was neither of these. No, this bird was a Crow. A scrappy little Crow with a broken wing that Osiris found lost and abandoned by its flock. He was very protective of his little Crow. So protective that when Saint upset the little bird, even by accident, Osiris fell into a fit of rage even at his most trusted partner.

He yelled so loud you could hear it on the other side of the city. He snarled and hissed like a mother cat protecting her kits- honestly if you were there it was kinda sweet but you didn't hear that from me- anyway! The point was, Saint-14 was brought to his knees, pleading for forgiveness and repenting his mistake.

What? What did he do? I told you, he made Crow sad. Oh, how? Well Crow had this frankly stupid haircut and Crow overheard Saint joking about it to Geppetto. Oh, no I didn't mean an actual bird. I was being dramatic. Saint-14 and Osiris adopted the Vanguard Crow ages ago back when he was all sad and broody. Anyway, the lesson to be learned here kids, is to never insult Crow where Osiris can find out and he will find out no matter where you are. You should never-"

Osiris crossed his arms raising an eyebrow at the ghost bobbing on a plain tower shell surrounded by new lights and when one of the young hunters turned and yelped it caused the group to scatter like cats from a cucumber.

"Sagira, you can't keep doing this or none of the new lights will ever look at me without jumping." He tsked at her and she giggled as she moved to hover over his shoulder.

"Don't lie, you love watching them cower. Plus, it's funny to see how they all look at Crow after. He has no idea why he has an army of tiny guardian ducklings trailing him." She said dawning her usual shell with a flash of light now she wasn't trying to secretly spread rumors through the tower.

"At least you stopped telling them all I was in my boxers when I yelled at Saint. They really don't need to know those sort of things." He sighed as they headed toward the hanger.

"It was hilarious! You telling off Saint for making fun of Crow's terrible haircut while wearing nothing but your boxers and slippers and sleep robe! I can't believe Crow was brave enough to wake you up to make sad eyes at you over Saint mocking him. This is why he's my favorite." She chirped and Osiris rolled his eyes.

"I thought he was your favorite because he and Glint saved you from the traveler and helped you regain your memories so we could be reunited?" He hummed and she bobbed.

"You can have more than one reason for someone to be your favorite Osiris. After all, I'm sure there's many reasons I'm your favorite." She teased and Osiris frowned.

"When did I say you're my favorite? Did I not tell you of my close bond to the pooka I adopted?" He asked and grinned as she started ranting about how much better she was than some over-empathetic flying fish.

[cringefaecompilation]

not to dunk on junior year again but i am noticing a pattern here with the treatment of certain storytelling elements here.

both bell’s hells and the ratgrinders were pcs that gained sapience. the difference is that the ratgrinders were villains and the hells are heroes.

one of the most love-it-or-hate-it aspects of campaign 3 is that it does not only focus on the main 7 or 8 characters and everybody else is tossed to the wayside unless they benefit them like usual. all npcs (with downfall, that's including the gods!) deserve a chance to have their story told and they are all written to be that. the generic runaway prince you have to help escape to a life of freedom! the cute little helper robot npc! generic spooky evil minions based on public domain monsters! the quirky quest-giving fae! the rough and tumble hired goon! the brave captain of the guard protecting a strong lady in charge!  yes, even imogen, who in any other story would be the sad little abandoned daughter of the bbeg who would mourn the hero killing her mother but understand that the hero had to do what needed to be done.

and again, you don’t have to like it!

but there is a weird sort of thing i noticed amongst all the critical role c3 criticism that reminded me of people defending fhjy. an undercurrent of insisting that all the ratgrinders (who were teenagers. who were groomed and then murdered.) were pure evil spoiled brats and just wanted to be handed everything on a platter because they didn’t deserve what the main cast earned their place as the main characters and made passive aggressive posts saying things to the tune of you know they’re evil right. very Watsonian with a staunch refusal to look at a Doylist explanation. it got so bad to the point where people were insisting that if you liked the ratgrinders and sympathized with them then you were a fascism apologist.

astoundingly enough c3 criticism has only scraped the surface of this sort of overdramatic accusation, but it goes in the opposite direction. if you like where the story is going and how it's being told, then you’re not a real critical role fan. the story should have just been about the characters fighting evil fae or just wiping out the ruby vanguard and everyone in it without all this stupid introspective discussion on power because it’s retconning the gods being bad guys! grey morality sucks, why can’t good guys just be good? they all feel like npcs except for imogen because she’s the only one with a chosen birthright!

(of course, if they say that last part out loud, that might not look so good for them)

 yes, we know the gods are imperfect. that’s what we’ve been saying this whole time. but all these passive aggressive gifsets of liam-as-orym saying that the gods aren’t pure evil and it’s stupid to think so or laura and matt ooc saying that the gods have a grey area don’t mean fucking jack if you turn around and insist the gods have zero flaws and everything they do is good, actually and Aeor Had It Coming.

important caveats:

the actors on d20 could not react to things they were doing in the moment. they were tired after filiming 3 episodes back to back and wrapped up their season faster than usual to join the sag-aftra strike. i am aware of this.

yes i know that d20 is a comedy improv series! that does not prevent it from having deep themes and character introspection! ayda aguefort and zelda donovan still very much exist and had their own arcs despite being npcs!

yes the ratgrinders were working with a man trying to kill and replace a goddess and yes he is a colonizing twat. however, doesn’t that also make it the fandom’s insistence that liking the kids is bad and fascistic but making ship art of him and the other teacher that killed all of them is totally okay? rules for he but not for thee? 

[a-driftamongopenstars]

a ghost decides; destiny ficlet

wanted to write this for a little while now... so here's Rhulk being risen as a Lightbearer :> also on ao3

A small, brave, yet skitting Ghost is making their way through the Witch Queen’s, and then the Disciple’s domain. Their blue scanner beam pulses every now and then, checking for the remains that would call to them. With every inch, the Ghost’s little fluttering heart is getting filled with more and more anxiety.

They have heard a lot about the anticipation of raising a Lightbearer. They have been told that everything starts making sense then. And the sense of loneliness goes away.

They want that feeling. Hundreds of years, spent in searching and hopeful wandering, have left them starved for company and connection. Jealousy, too, touched this Ghost’s shell as they watched others raise their Guardians and adventure about the system, bringing pride and conquest to the Vanguard.

The museum-like walls of the Disciple’s Pyramid frighten the Ghost a little. Here and there, dissected bodies stare at them from a glass-like encasement, gleaming eerily when they apply the scanner in search.

Still, no sight of a body.

Would they raise a Hive guardian, then? Or give a second chance to a Lightbearer, already dead? They are unsure if such a thing can happen at all.

In the grand opening of the Pyramid, the Upended is waiting for the Ghost. The worm’s remains are still there, forever forfeited to rot and decay beneath a massive platform, filled with images of an unknown language. The air is musty, old.

And it is here that the Ghost feels a pulse. They have never felt anything like it before, but it tugs at them, pulling their shell forward, and so they follow.

Yet still no sight of body. Not a crumble of bone, not a hair, not a flake of skin.

The Ghost moves faster, cutting through the stale air, over the platforms, forward and forward.

They spill the blue light of the scanner.

Their Light shivers within the shell, a sense of meaning settling all over the Ghost.

It all makes sense.

It makes no sense at all.

The Ghost explodes in a happy flash of Light, bringing it unto a body torn with dark energy, a tree of it growing from a mangled body. And only a second later, there is neither the tree nor the energy, but a… person.

Six of his eyes blink unsynced. He jolts upwards, grabbing at the Ghost with a long-fingered hand. The Ghost stares up at him in awe, as the former Disciple’s eyes focus on their single one.

“Who am I?” the newly risen Lightbearer asks, holding the shell within his grasp. His voice comes through husky and odd.

The Ghost blinks.

The Ghost thinks.

The Ghost decides.

“You are a Guardian.”

[empty-fantasies]

Watercolor Eyes

they say eyes give away all that is held within guarded hearts (i spent too long on tiktok 🧍)

Characters included: alhaitham, tartaglia, dehya

gn!reader, fluff, a bit of unaddressed pining in alhaitham’s and dehya’s parts

alhaitham

anyone would find themselves at a loss for words when alhaitham finally fixes his gaze on the unfortunate and naive soul that decided to interrupt him.

it is sharp and unyielding, conveying all that is needed for the other party to know that they best summarize their thoughts quickly if they wanted to be heard. it is calculated, hiding all that does not need to be known for he isn’t nearly as interested in divulging everything that is on his mind to just anyone. it is quick to notice the way the other party often fidgets with their documents, silently wishing that they simply just get to the point and leave him be.

alhaitham was well aware that was not the same case when it came to you, however.

here you were, fascinated by the bleeding colors, mesmerized by them while you allowed yourself to entertain the many thoughts in your mind. there’s a hint of curiosity that many do not seem to notice or care for at all. in fact, many would question how you put up with alhaitham in the first, often warning you to simply give up before your fragile heart is shattered.

he’s used to it. the dazed look which seems to say everything and more for you. what he is not used to though is exactly the message you seem to silently say with that look. in times in which he is able to catch your own gaze for long enough (and before you realized he had read you like an open book), he’d find himself at a loss of words. a snarky comment would chase you off. an honest comment may bring some unwanted truth to reality that he’d have to expect should he be wrong in his assumptions. he could hear kaveh mocking his inability to address this unknown feeling that fills his heart with uncertainty.

he wonders though. with a faint tug on the strings connected to his heart, he wonders as you quickly scurry off if you notice the subtle difference when he looks at you.

tartaglia

you wonder if you would be treading on some unspoken boundaries. you’re keen enough to know that something had caused a certain glint to repress itself. some unfortunate event that quickly snuffed it out and remains as a permanent scar that cannot be healed with featherlight kisses. on the other hand, it’s interesting to hear from others that there seems to be a new light in tartaglia’s eyes when he sees you.

tartaglia; a charismatic man hailing from sneznhaya who boasted quite the reputation as a fearsome vanguard of the fatui’s most elite. he has certainly many scenes in which you did not want to wrap your head around. yet, even knowing all that, you couldn’t help but to just fall for him.

perhaps you were too caught up for suddenly you became aware of the ginger standing in front of you, mischief effortlessly glowing as he leaned in slightly. instinctively, you took a half step back, embarrassed that you were caught in your act of silently longing for the man.

a glint flashes briefly, catching you off guard before your cheeks are aflamed—your mind and heart entering a flustered state as his laughs echoes. that is when you finally noticed the supposed light that fills his eyes once more.

“care to share what’s on your pretty mind?”

childe’s eyes represent the vastness of the sea; the depths of the unknown; an unpredictable nature that never fails to catch you off guard. adoration is clear as the calm waves of the oceans surrounding liyue; a stark contrast from the frigid waters of sneznhaya and what his enemies has witnessed (and something tartaglia would rather die first before he ever lets you witness that side of him).

dehya

a stark contrast to what you expected when you first heard of the flame-maned mercenary.

to many, dehya is the embodiment of a brave warrior, wielding her claymore and following through on her duties to whoever has hired her. as strong as she is, she is nearly untouchable and you too felt that just as much when you first crossed paths with the mercenary. the moment in which her gaze first landed on you nearly caused a heart attack. striking, determined, levelheaded; you realized soon why many warn you to not get too attached.

and yet, you did just that. at least, compared to others who made the same effort to win the flame-mane’s heart over, you won. though dehya wouldn’t admit outright, she couldn’t help but to let herself get attached to you as well. in those peaceful moments of life in which she was not tied down to a client, she’d find you instantly, no matter where you may be. call it instinct by now, but dehya couldn’t help it at all.

just like how you began to notice a certain shift in her gaze whenever you mustered up just enough courage to hold it just a second longer.

they are captivating—despite having seen many cloudy situations, they are honest—conveying the sincerity and concern in her heart and often betraying her in certain softhearted moments. you wouldn’t tease her for it, however, knowing full well you wouldn’t see such a loving look for the rest of the day if you gave in to mischievous temptations. it’s selfish, you always reminded yourself, believing that you were truly in over your head in thinking that you had a sliver of a chance.

in times that you doubt yourself or when the world is suddenly overbearing, all it takes is one look into dehya’s eyes to know that you have nothing to worry about at all when she’s there. steady, they silently remind you that you have all the time in the world to conquer whatever is plaguing your mind for she’ll always be there to push you forward.

[thymbraeusrising]

From Ashes: A Salamander Story

So I've started a fic set immediately after Vulkan was revealed to the Salamanders, focusing on a Salamander squad who is acting as protection for a Iterator who is trying to diplomatically incorporate a reasonably advanced Terran world into the Imperium and I just want to yell about it a bit.

FIRST UP THE SQUAD:

Sergeant Shoen'tal Agonn: A skilled tactician, Agonn is everything a Salamander strives to be. He is brave, selfless, and willing to die for his men. He is plagued by every soldier he has lost, and keeps a list of those lost under his command attached to his armor. Battle-Brother Mulbakaan Vel'gan: The squad's second in command and a sturdy defender. In his first deployment, he held a site of contention by himself against a swarm of tyranids until the rest of his company could arrive by making effective use of choke-points and explosives. He has a giant scar that stretches from his left ear to his chin from one of those tyranids that got too close. Techmarine Par'dak Numatar: A genius engineer who had his tongue shot out by an Ork. He has special gauntlets that are much more dexterous than usual space marine armor, basically functioning as a second skin, that both let him communicate in sign language and also give him better manual dexterity when it comes to working on machines. Battle-Brother Zarton Numatar: Par'dak's brother and a master of offense. There is only one thing he loves more than getting to test his brother's inventions, and that's being a loyal servant of the emperor. He is passionately devoted to The Emperor and carrying out his will, and sees every order given to him as a blessing. Epistolary Rodondiel Vallatar: A skilled improviser, Vallatar is well-known among his brothers for being able to think on his feet, something that has saved the squad more than once. Agonn fully trusts him without hesitation, and any suggestion the Librarian gives will be accepted without question. Battle-Brother Ze'phast Zytal: The largest of the group, Zytal has an "I could do this all night" approach to war, and has no problem with extended combat. In fact, he prefers it, as his extreme stamina lets him outlast most opponents. Battle-Brother Kronak Tu'reth: The big guy with the flamer, Tu'reth is almost as hardy as Zytal. He and Zytal often have competitions during battles to see who can go the whole fight without a moment's rest. Vanguard Vorpaar Ven'nerr: The dude with the flaming hammer and the squad's most vicious fighter. Unlike the others, Ven'nerr is quite in favor of starting fights, and is rather un-Salamander-like when it comes to taking pleasure in destruction. His behavior occasionally has put innocents at risk, something Agonn has had to discipline him for. Apothecary Ba'tsen Praetor: The squad doctor with a terrible bedside manner. Praetor is concerned first and foremost with getting his patients back to fighting fit as soon as possible, and while he is not heartless, he is more than happy to use less than pleasant measures to get them up and moving faster. Neophyte Vel'zan Vallal: The young kid on the squad who is hoping to soon earn the promotion to Battle-Brother. He is in awe of his squad mates and strives to embody the ideals of the Salamanders, almost to the point of naivety. A bit of a risk-taker, it has taken him a bit longer to reach Battle-Brother than others, but he is hoping to show his dependability to his new squad. Iterator Ambrosius Corinant: A no-nonsense diplomat whose ability as a social chameleon is slightly off-putting to the Astartes who protect him, but his openness and bluntness with them has earned their respect.

THE MISSION!

The squad gets sent down to the planet Mimas to talk to the local emperor/king/etc to get them to join the Imperium. They seem eager and willing but there always seem to be something wrong or something that is putting off a full agreement. Meanwhile, up on the orbiting ship, the Navigator is losing his mind as it is corrupted by Chaos originating from somewhere beneath the planet's capital. He goes on a murder spree and essentially maroons the ship. Down on the planet, negotiations are falling apart, and it takes a nosedive when the Iterator is found murdered. Due to the actions of the Navigator, communication with the ship is impossible and the squad attempt to discover who killed the Iterator while waiting for orders. Their investigation is interrupted by the source of Chaos breaking out from beneath the city and attempting to take over the ship as a means of escaping the planet that has been its prison for countless millennia.

....I may have a list of how everyone who DOES die is going to die.....it might be the first thing that I wrote lol