#destruction manipulation + purple fire breath

[yugentko]

Part 1

Chapter 1 : Contempt

Your boots pounded against the cracked pavement, each step merely an echo amidst the clamour of destruction tearing through the once tranquil streets. The air was thick with dust and the awful scent of smoke that billowed from the smoldering ruins of what used to be a lively marketplace. Your sharp eyes, reflecting a chaotic blend of flames and fear, darted from one crumbling façade to another as you ran past.

Explosions punctuated the air like deadly beats, and with each blast, screams of terrified civilians, reaching for you in a desperate plea. You wove deftly between the debris, agile form dodging falling masonry and the heat from the fires licking at your skin urged you forward. It was as if the very essence of chaos had been unleashed upon the city, and with your heart hammering against your ribs, raced against its all-consuming wrath.

Around you, the villainous assault unfolded with merciless precision. Dark figures moved through the devastation, their quirks manifesting in terrifying forms: bolts of electricity arced through the air, snaking towards their targets; shadows crept and expanded, swallowing light and hope alike; and unseen forces sent citizens flying, their bodies ragdolling before slamming into the unforgiving ground.

The destruction was indiscriminate. An elderly man clutched his arm, blood seeping between his fingers, as he stumbled past you, his eyes wide with shock. A woman crouched under the scant protection of a bus stop, clutching her child close, their silent tears merging with the ash that fell like snowflakes in this grotesque winter.

Your resolve hardened with every harrowing sight; this was not just a villain attack—it was a warning.

Your breath hitched as a familiar figure emerged from the dust and debris. Shinsou Hitoshi, known to many as mindjack for his ability to sway minds with mere words, stood defiant amidst the villains' onslaught. His indigo hair, usually a wild halo around his head, now clung to his forehead, matted with sweat and grime. His tall frame, typically poised with quiet confidence, wavered unsteadily on the battlefield.

He was injured, a dark stain spreading across the fabric of his uniform, but his purple eyes still blazed with an unwavering resolve. With each word he uttered, the villains hesitated, their actions betraying the confusion sown by his quirk. Yet, even Shinsou's manipulations could not keep pace with the sheer number of attacks; his power, though formidable, had limits, especially when taxed by physical pain.

"Mindjack!" You couldn't help the cry that unknowingly escaped your lips. You saw the toll the battle had taken on him—the way his body screamed for respite, even as he refused to yield. Your heart thundered against your ribs, fear and adrenaline mingling in your veins like a bitter elixir. The sight of him, so vulnerable yet so valiant, ignited something fierce within you—a protective blaze that seared away hesitation.

With every step you took towards him, your determination grew. This was more than just a fight; it was a test of wills, a dance with death where every moment held the weight of eternity. And you would not—could not—let the only other hero in the vicinity face it alone.

You moved with purpose, your own quirk pulsing at the ready, mind singularly focused on reaching Mindjack's side. You would stand with him, fight with him, and if need be, carry him from this place of despair. Because in the end, this was not just his battle—it was yours too, Not an obligation to fight but rather the oath you took to protect the innocent.

Your eyes narrowed, the chaos of the battlefield sharpening into focus as you zeroed in on your objective. The air thrummed with the crackle of your quirk, an undercurrent of power that hummed in anticipation beneath your skin. With a burst of speed, you darted forward, a blur among the wreckage and ruin.

The villains, caught off guard by the ferocity emanating from this whirlwind of determination, hesitated—a fatal mistake. You unleashed your quirk with precision, channeling the energy in rapid succession. A shockwave rippled outward, sending villains reeling, a temporary remedy but enough to warrant you a moment to aide your fellow hero.

In the sudden stillness that followed, You wasted no time, sweeping towards Mindjack, heart still racing, but your hands steady—alight with a soft, ethereal glow. As you knelt beside him, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them amidst the smoldering remains of the street.

"Mindjack." you say, voice a grounding force, "stay with me."

Your fingers brushed against his skin, energy flowing from your palms into his battered form. You could feel the pulse of his injuries, the discordant rhythm that clashed with the life force within him. Your brow furrowed, every ounce of will bending towards mending the fractures, soothing the bruises, knitting the torn fibers of his skin back together.

"Come on, Hitoshi," you murmured, more to yourself than to him, a mantra to guide your efforts, "stay strong."

————————

Time seemed to dilate around Shinsou as she channeled her quirk with an intensity that bordered on the transcendental. Her every sense was narrowed to the flow of healing energy from her hands, a luminous energy that bathed Shinsou in its restorative light. The chaos of the outside world—shouts, blasts, and crumbling structures—faded into a distant murmur against the singular focus of her task.

The glow enveloped Shinsou, dipping into the crevices of his wounds, seeping beneath the skin where bone and sinew cried out for relief. This woman's concentration carved out a sanctuary of calm in the midst of devastation.

In this cloistered space, wrought by the fervor of her determination, tiny filaments of strength began weaving themselves into Shinsou's battered form. With each passing second, the swell of his life force grew more pronounced, a symphony slowly rising from the dissonance of pain.

And then, amidst the quietude of healing, their eyes met.

It was a connection unspoken, yet as potent as the forces that thrummed through their veins—a recognition of kindred spirits caught within the storm. In Shinsou's gaze, there lay a depth of gratitude mingled with the flickering flame of his indomitable will, while hers reflected the solemn oath of a protector whose resolve was as unbreakable as the earth itself.

Their shared look was a silent covenant, one that overthrew the chaos surrounding them, an acknowledgment of the bond that had formed in the heart of adversity. For a fleeting moment, amidst the ruin and the echoes of battle, Shinsou wondered who she was and how she had known his name. Amidst his turbulent train of thought, a flicker of recognition wormed it's way through his mind.

It's her. from class 1b...... her name.. what's her name...

Color returned to Shinsou's cheeks, the injury retreating as if chased by the dawn of her healing. Muscles that had been slack with exhaustion tightened with renewed sturdiness, and his breath steadied into the deep, even rhythm. As the last of the wounds sealed beneath the luminescence of her touch, Shinsou's eyes brightened, not just with the sheen of recovery but with an unmistakable glint of gratitude.

"Thank you," he mouthed silently, the words unnecessary yet weighted with sincerity. The quiet thanks resonated louder than she had expected, echoing in the space between them—a space now filled with a shared understanding that went beyond spoken language.

She withdrew her hands, the glow around them dimming like the final notes of an anthem fading into silence. She surveyed Shinsou, taking in the absence of blood, the return of strength to his posture. A surge of relief washed over her, cooling the heat of frantic energy that had fueled her quirk. It was more than the satisfaction of a healer seeing her work come to fruition—it was the triumph of will against despair, the affirmation of her purpose.

"Stay still for a moment longer," she instructed, her voice steady despite the adrenaline that still raced through her. "Let your body adjust." Her gaze remained locked on him, vigilant for any sign of lingering pain or weakness.

As Shinsou nodded, acquiescing to her command, her chest swelled with a sense of fulfillment. Here, in the torn fabric of their world, she had mended something crucial. She had reinforced the front lines with one more able soul, ready to stand against the tide of chaos. In this act, she reaffirmed the vow to protect, to heal, and to hold fast against the darkness that sought to engulf them all. ————— Must read A/N!!! I've decided to explore a newer approach to x readers as majority of the work in this line of entertainment use abbreviations to take the place of names. I wanted to create a type of book that the reader can read as if it is a narration of their own mind rather than them be a literal character in the book. In the recent influx of fiction, (y/n) is starting to become more of a detached character instead of an impersonation of the reader themselves. I have taken a break from writing but gladly return now that I am confident in my ability to create. Thank you for your support!

[fireburial]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE. Repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. if you fail to achieve some of the facts, add some other of your own!

NAME: Touya Todoroki

ALIAS/NICKNAME: Dabi, Blueflame, Mr Sleepyhead

AGE: 25 y/o

SPECIES: meta-human (human with abilities)

SEX: cis male

NATIONALITY: Japanese

INTERESTS: reading, astronomy, music, animals, belittling others, anarchism,

PROFESSION: unemployed. used to be a drug dealer and informant, now a wanted terrorist in a criminal organisation fighting against society.

BODY TYPE: lanky, tall with somewhat broader shoulders, but an overall slim build and narrow waist.

EYES: ice-blue colour, usually heavy-lidded

HAIR: crimson red (formerly), white (formerly); unruly, spiked and black-dyed (currently)

SKIN: pale white skin tone with gnarled, dark red/purple burnt patches that cover the area under his eyes, his ears and pretty much most of his lower face, including his entire neck and all the way down past his collarbones. both arms are almost completely burned till his shoulders, such as the area from his ankles up his thighs and some parts of his torso and back. the burnt skin is held together by staples and stitches, reminding of a grotesque "frankenstein's monster" look.

FACE: round face shape with burn scars underneath his eyes and the lower half of his face, including his ears which have both silver cartilage piercings. additionally, the rows of stitches extend from the corners of his mouth to above his ears, giving his face somewhat of a permanent grin. also has a triple nostril piercing on the left side of his nose. his tongue is halfway stitched too.

POSTURE: casual, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly, laid back posture

HEIGHT: 5'9’’ (176cm)

VOICE: usually soft and calm-spoken despite his rude attitude, but almost always between a playful, smug, mocking tone or a display of boredom/disinterest. his voice goes higher or lower depending on his emotions and cracks when he grows too excited or laughs out loud.

SIGNATURE OUTFIT: long, black fire-proof leather coat with fringed edges at the back, usually with a white v-neck top underneath and matching black fireproof leather pants with white stitches sewn onto them. he wears long, black boots that almost reach his knees and are fire-proof as well.

SIGNIFICANT OTHER: @kettensaege

COMPANIONS: the League of Villains (terrorist organisation) consists of more than just a handful of people, but among the closest are Shigaraki (leader), Toga (member), Mr. Compress (member), Twice (member), Spinner (member), Giran (ally) and @kettensaege (member)

ANTAGONISTS: everyone who gets in his way (of reaching his goals), the Todoroki family, especially his father Enji, etc

STRENGTHS: Very pragmatic in battle and prefers long-distance fights due to his flames. He is rather savvy and analytical about how people operate and will exploit their weaknesses when found out. Not afraid of causing collateral destruction, rarely holding back in a fight, even if it puts his allies at risk. Cunning, manipulative, a good liar, observant and most of the time calm-minded and focused, he's determined to complete his given tasks and reach his goals no matter what. Can be cooperative despite not getting along with everyone.

WEAKNESSES: Intolerant of most people and can be very derisive, rude, and condescending to everyone with whom he interacts. Socially awkward, aloof and introverted. Has trouble controlling and dealing with his emotions due to his fragile mental health. Tends to take pleasure in taunting others, mostly his enemies or strangers, sadistically enjoying the pain he inflicts on others, including those he murders. Has a rather weak body, grows motion-sick and is quickly out of breath. His flames begin to eat away at him and burn his body should he use them for too long, which prevents him from fighting prolonged battles, his flames are also tied with his emotions. Has no proper education besides roughly a middle school degree. He can read and write, however and learned occasionally through reading books and having street smarts and other life experiences.

COLORS: black, purple and blue are among his favourites

FRUITS: strawberries, pineapple, oranges

DRINKS: tea and water mostly

ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES: soju, sometimes sake, beer or vodka

SMOKES/DRUGS: regularly in the mornings, sometimes spontaneously simple cigarettes with no preference for a specific brand. Used to smoke weed and take drugs more often in the past, but doesn't ever since he's stopped dealing and working in the underground.

DRIVER’S LICENSE: none.

tagged by @vikasgarden (thanks, flower girl.) tagging @kettensaege @discsters @vasted @nepnthc

[ask-paradox-and-friends]

to complete the whole Sigfrid family set this next one is gonna be Paradox's mom.

JUST CAUSE IM A MAGE DOSENT MEAN IM A WIMP!

AINZ OOAL GOWN VS THORENDRESSA

Ainz Ooal Gown info:

Height: 7 foot 2

Weight: 124lbs

Weapons: Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown, Dual Greatswords, Sword and Shield, Magic

Strengths: Is the main character and the most powerful being in the Overlord universe, Immense strength (Manhandles anyone who challenges him, Threw a Dragon multiple times his own size, Wields his Dual Greatswords as if they were weightless, Pierced through Adamantine with Clementines Stilettos), Immense durability (Ainz has contemplated that each of his bones are stronger than steel, A Minion of his with the same damage reducing ability as Ainz survived a 3000 foot fall unharmed, No selled a barrage of attacks from Gu who could level a castle wall with a punch, Was unharmed by Clementine stabbing him through his eye sockets, Is even more durable with his Knights Armour), Supersonic speed (Is on par with the likes of Albedo in speed), Is a Master of both Magical and close quarters combat, Possesses a multitude of passive effects that aid him in battle (E.g. High chance to cause Panic/Confusion/Insanity/Instant Death in his enemies), Can sense other Undead Beings, Can freeze an enemy in place with a Time Stop Spell.

Weaknesses: As an Undead Ainz is weak to Holy and Fire attacks, Because of his Class restrictions Ainz cannot equip most Weapons and Armour available in his world, His most powerful Spell has a 100 hour cooldown, Cannot harm those trapped in his Time Stop Spell.

Thornendressa info

Height:6 foot (Human form) 12 foot (hybrid form) 13000 feet (Dragon form)

Weapons:teeth,claws,magic,Alchemist blade,Dawnsetter,dragonbone bow.

Strengths:as the mother of Paradox and his sister Whiteraven she's the one who taught them both magic and ranged combat. But she's by no mean a pushover. Demigod Strength(as a part god dragon she's much stronger then most others of her race. Strong enough to hurt gaints and titans once over powered a hecrotonceris which are mountain sized monster with 100 arms and turn mountains into piles of throwing pebbles. Easily overpowered gaints who threw mountains at her.) Demigod durability(as a part god dragon with magic coated scales she's impervious to most magic and weapon. The Ebony warriors who hunt dragons for a living and use dark magic to harm dragons barely hurt her. No selled Tsugus Demon Ice Molding Magic and Steel Dragon Slayer Magic both of which were created SPECIFICALLY TO KILL DRAGONS AND DEMONS.) Suprising speed (Despite being out of shape and past her prime she's still faster then most dragons and can out run her daughter who regularly deflects attacks from a man who can manipulate lighting and light.) Is a genius in magic and archery. Is a Suprising master in hunting monsters. Her dawnsetter and alchemist blades are created by her to kill monsters and the undead showing skills in enchantments and alchemy. Her bow being made of dragonbone is stronger then ebony bows which are nigh impervious to blades and magic. Her arrows are poisoned with dragon Silvia which is the 3rd most toxic thing in the realms and can hurt Paradox who can power through pretty much anything. As a purple dragon using Mirror and archive magic she can seal things and people away and reflect magic on top of using any basic magic that she has fought she can even use multiple breath attacks due to her time of eating monsters.

Weaknesses:as a purple dragon her powers are affected by her mood. The happier she gets the stronger her healing becomes. But if she gets angry enough her powers become pure Ather which means she can do nothing but destruction. While she can teleport through reflections it takes connection also she's put of shape far past her prime and she's the slowest of the family.

[drippiesfm]

TASK 001: INTRODUCTION ⸻ DARIO LUNA

( drogon / damian priest, forty-five, cisgender man, he/him )  Look who it is! If you take a look at our database, you’ll find that DARIO LUNA is an MOTORBIKE MECHANIC that works in SECTOR 7. According to the file, they’re a mutant with the power of DRAGON PHYSIOLOGY + METAL MANIPULATION. That must be why they’re COMPASSIONATE and FRIGHTENING. If you ask me, they remind me of ❝ the way the metal curls at the touch like reshaping liquid thoughts, "you've got garlic in your soul ⸺ you have all the tender sweetness of a seasick crocodile" & metallic scales shimmering like chainmail ❞ They are affiliated with RUST & RUIN.

PINTEREST — PLAYLIST — INTRO ( COMING SOON ) ���STATS

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

character name: dario luna

nickname (s): drogon, lbr

face claim: drogon / damian priest

mutation status: gen ii

birthday: april 2

sexuality: bisexual undertaker

moral alignment: true neutral

occupation: motorbike mechanic

work sector: sector 7.

affiliation: rust & ruin / the biker gang

3 positive traits: protective, courageous, instinctive

3 negative traits: aggressive, jealous, unpredictable

𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

gender: cisgender man / amab / male

height: 6′ 5″

markings: scorch marks along his forearms, and adorning the many muscles on that man. lots of muscle veins, guyliner ( it looks natural, okay), myriad tattoos & calloused hands

tattoos: everything damian priest has on his body

piercings: none

decorum: purple bandana, sleeveless shirts, choker with family sigil, leather vest/ jacket - all black most of the time, a lot of metal / chains, spikes, bulky rings, bracelets and necklaces. he also wears boots that do the jangle ( spurs )

scent: smoldering amber and black pepper

zodiac: aries

primary vice: loyalty

primary virtue: wrath

trope: the dragon, the protector, the reluctant lover, the gentle giant, the beast within, primal instincts, the one man army, the underdog, the wild spirit, the badass with a good heart

inspiration: this gif but also sandor clegane ( GOT ), toph ( atla ), obviously, red eyes black metal dragon ( yu gi oh ) , gajeel redfox ( that anime juwy said ), magneto but only in powers, and ofc drogon ( GOT )

residence: the skies lbr, but also sometimes with renato to make sure he's safe 

hobbies: metalworking / forging / blacksmithing, cooking ( puerto rican food ) / grilling, motorbike mechanic-ing, brawling / street fights, dragon flying, sleeping ( in a cozy nest or random lairs ), seeking a mate, breathing fire at targets, sunbathing

habits: destructive outbursts, overprotectiveness, aggression toward strangers, protecting his territory, self-sufficiency, protecting the vulnerable, brutal honesty, fighting for what’s right, self-reflection, quick to anger ( violence ), isolation ( emotional detachment ), grudge-holding ( obsessive vengeance )

questionnaire:

how do they feel about living in sol city? have they always lived there or did they travel from another settlement?

better than his sister ( ren's mom ) did. she left first finding solace in a different settlement. dario tried his best to visit up until their big fight™ he has been determined to find her ( flying around / scouting for a semblance of her despite not speaking for 14ish years ) but he never was able to find her face in a sea of bodies. he regrets not leaving when she did, perhaps if he had, then she'd be here and not lost. otherwise, sol city is fine.

do they trust the council’s leadership?��why or why not?

no as a part of the motor gang rust and ruin, he doesn't trust the council to look out for the forgotten, the lost and the less fortunate. under min's leadership, he thinks there is a fighting chance to help justice take its course.

if they chose their sector and profession, why did they make that choice? if they didn’t, why not? were they happy with their assignment or not?

the profession chose him, with his metal working / metal manipulation, but he does not hate it, nor does he find it taxing. working with his hands is better than using his brain or having to think to make a living. because of his metal manip work comes easy.

what’s one object that they always keep on their person?

a purple bandana that is used to keep his hands clean from oil and grease while being a motorbike mechanic.

questionnaire ( mutant vers ):

what is your character’s ability (or abilities)?

drawing from their dragon-like physiology, they have enhanced agility, dexterity, and heightened senses, allowing for swift, precise movement and stealth in any environment. their sharp night vision and keen senses—smell, hearing, and tracking—enable them to navigate dark terrain and locate targets from a distance. in combat, their ability to manipulate metal gives them an edge. they can shape, bend, and forge metal with precision, creating weapons, barriers, and traps.

are they gen i or gen ii?

gen ii

what can your character do? what are their strengths?

dario is typically always the muscle of the group, combining dragon-like strength, agility, and durability with metal manipulation. his enhanced senses, including flight and tracking, make him highly effective in any environment. dario can shape and control metal with precision—creating weapons, barriers, and traps. his physical prowess, combined with his ability to manipulate metal, makes him the go-to for heavy combat and problem-solving, whether it's taking down enemies or protecting his team.

what can’t they do? what are their weaknesses?

while his dragon-like physiology grants him strength and durability, he’s not invincible. his body, though resilient, can still be injured by enough force or magical attacks, and his reliance on physical power sometimes leaves him at a disadvantage against opponents who outmaneuver or outthink him. his primal instincts can also cloud his judgment, especially in high-stress situations, making him impulsive and prone to rushing into battles without considering all the risks.

finally, his emotional attachment to his allies can be a double-edged sword. his protective instincts can sometimes lead him to overextend himself or make rash decisions to keep others safe, which can put him—and the group—at greater risk.

[amintyworld]

Once Upon a Time - Twisted Fairytales AU

A/N: Here’s another prologue/introduction to another one of @dreamsmp-au-ideas’s AUs - Twisted Fairytale AU. There’s a more detailed explanation of the AU on their blog, which you guys should definitely check out! Anyway, I hope you enjoy! - Minty

TW: Mind control(?)/taking over someone’s body, manipulation, vomiting, panic attack, implied major character death(?), arguing, cursing, insanity(?). (Tell me if I need to tag anything else!)

-----------------------------------------

Once upon a time, long ago, there was a land of opportunity and friendship, a place meant to be a sanctuary for all those who needed it, a place where people could be happy and live in peace. In this land were three fearsome warriors whom no one dared cross, as such they were loved and respected by all who knew them. For a while, the three warriors lived together in harmony and friendship, and it was said in legend that apart they were strong, but together they were practically unstoppable. Two of these warriors, seeing the land around them grow and flourish looked toward the future, toward a growing power that threatened their kingdom and grew prepared to face it. The other warrior’s heart darkened at this growing power and feared the destruction it would bring. While the three warriors swore to stay together, the pained warrior swore to himself to see the power’s complete demise at whatever cost it would take.

Desperate, the darkened warrior sought a greater power from an older god whose name was lost to time itself. Asking for a wish in trade for anything the god wanted, the warrior pleaded to the god for help. The god agreed to grant his wish in return for the warrior’s greatest treasure. As a symbol of their agreement, the god gave the warrior a white clay mask that would bind them together for all time. Before the god vanished, however, they gave the warrior a warning: “Careful of the birds that feed from your hand, for they will be the first to bite.”

Years passed as the warrior’s heart broke and crushed into burning coal, became even too dark for the brightest light to touch. First, it was the Crooked King. Then it was the God of Blood, then the Dangerous Spark, and finally even one of his old warrior friends, the Soldier of Light. The proud warrior, ever the confident and cocky, never heeded the god’s warning, and as such, was unaware of the wisdom it held. 

Thus the once honorable warrior fell, trapped and tricked by those he once called his friends. As for what the god took? It was safe to say the dark-hearted warrior lost the one thing he fought for - his family. He waits now, with books filled with stories he once knew, even his own, as he tries to find a different ending. He writes and rewinds and thinks and wonders where it all went wrong. His chest feels empty yet his mind is full, thinking. 

One day, ever so slowly, he smiles.

The story isn’t over.

He still remembers the old god’s promise.

-----------------------------------------------

Dream huffed in the effort as he slammed his cuffs down against the rock in front of him, snapping the chains in two. He turned to sit, grabbing his sword to pry the ankle monitor off his right foot, tossing it angrily into the river below. Fizzles and smoke filled the air as the light on the monitor faded to darkness. Dream sighed in relief as he finally took a moment to breathe.

George’s eyes studied him from across the way, silent and thinking. He gently gripped the white mask in his hands, moving to sit on the ground next to his friend.

“Thank you for getting me out, no one would believe me-”

“Dream, please, there’s no need,” George answered honestly, his hand running over the mask’s detail. “But before we go anywhere, you need to give me answers. Real answers.” Brown eyes met Dream’s green, full of concern. “Please, just… tell me what’s going on - last I heard, Eret was King again, and now you’re in prison?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.” Green eyes lit up interest.

“Well, I was trying to keep an eye out for Tommy in exile, you know - staying out of trouble, making sure he wasn’t trying to escape, and just keeping him company. He’s just a kid, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“One day he just… snapped. He attacked me for no reason and ran off into the woods. I tried to follow him, I was so concerned but it was too late. Tommy spread rumors about me and said I was doing horrible things to him in exile. I tried and tried to get them to believe me but they didn’t. I even tried to use the discs to my favor but nothing worked, they cornered me, and… and…” Tears filled Dream’s eyes as George’s heart broke seeing his best friend like this. He moved to hug him tightly.

“Oh Dream, I’m so so sorry that happened.”

“Every-” Dream sniffled as he pulled away, trying to wipe away the tears. “Everyone turned against me - Punz, Bad… even Sapnap!”

“Sapnap?” George asked. “Sapnap believed Tommy over you?”

“I tried to get away, I tried to talk to him, I begged him to stop but he wouldn’t. He… he cornered me and made sure I wouldn’t get away, not until Tommy took away two of my lives.”

“Good gods.” George breathed. “I’m so sorry, I should’ve intervened sooner. But don’t worry, okay? We’ll talk to them, and-”

Dream shook his head as he took George’s hands in his. “George, no. I won’t have you suffer as I did.”

“But… but I’m sure if we talk to them together, they’ll listen.”

“George, no.” Dream moved to show off deep scarring across his chest, scarring that looked so fresh and so deep that George couldn’t help but gasp at the sight. His hand ghosted over the scarring as Dream winced in pain. With the number of strikes and injury on his friend’s body, George didn’t know how Dream was still standing, let alone alive. “This is what happened when I reasoned with them.”

“No, no they couldn’t have-!” Sure, L’manburg was a thorn on their side but even George knew they weren’t this brutal. They couldn’t be. None of this made sense, and yet the evidence was right in front of him. 

“George.” Dream’s eyes turned saddened as he cupped his best friend’s cheek, making George freeze. “Please. I don’t want you to get hurt or chased or go through what I did. I know that they used to be our friends, but they’re not anymore. They’ve changed, and I don’t think they’re going to change back. We need to stick together, okay? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

George remembered how weird Sapnap had been acting when he’d brought up Dream last week - he called him a traitor and almost threw his mask in the fire to burn before George managed to snatch it away. Sapnap was on the verge of tears as he argued with him for hours, yelling and even screaming at him. George defended his friend who wasn’t even there to defend himself, which only seemed to stroke the flames. The last thing his best friend said to him before they weren’t on speaking terms was said in front of the old Community House, their old home that they shared, Sapnap pointing an accusing finger at him. 

“When are you going to wake up and realize that everything Dream said was a lie, that he doesn’t care about any of us, that he was never our friend, huh?! Because I’m tired of you excusing what he’s done to everyone just because you think you know who he is! You’re more than just colorblind, George - You’re delusional!” Regret flashed across Sapnap’s face as he realized what he said. “...George, wait, I-”

George angrily brushed past him with enough force to knock his friend to the floor, tears running down his cheeks that he tried to hide. “Save it.”

“You do trust me, don’t you George?” Dream’s eyebrows were furrowed in worry as he looked to his friend in concern. George looked up to his best friend with a smile, his heart feeling warm and content. He knew he was right. Sapnap was the one who didn’t care, who betrayed, who let this happen to his best friend, who let Tommy kill him. He was the real traitor. Not Dream.

“Of course I trust you. Why wouldn’t I?”

------------------------------------------------

As the crown was placed upon his head, George couldn’t help but feel happy. The crowd quickly applauded as George moved to stand in front of his throne in the castle, facing his people. Not a great turnout but still a turnout at that - Slimecicle and Foolish sat in front, Hbomb and Hannah sat behind them. Ranboo stood near the back, his expression blank and his body unmoving from where it stood near the doorway. Purpled looked over the scene in interest as he leaned against the stone wall in the back, arms crossed. 

“Now, may I present the newest King of the Dream SMP, George!”

As the applause quieted down, he began to speak. “Thanks to all of you for coming. I know the past few weeks have been tough and confusing on everyone, but I want to assure you that I will do my best to keep all of you safe and sound. As you may have heard, traitors are among us in our peaceful server. Traitors who mask as allies and attack unprovoked and unpredictably.” Murmurs of interest picked up from the small crowd. “Now, no need to cause a panic. My knights and I will round them up and-“

“Actually, my King, there’s no need to worry. I’ve already taken care of the problem.” Dream reassured his friend with a smile. “I banned them all late last night and double-checked this morning. They’re gone for good.”

George looked over to his friend at his side. “I thought I told you I’d handle this, you’ve been through enough.”

“You’ve done so much for me, George. You’re my best friend. I’m just repaying the favor.” Dream got down on one knee in a bow, speaking humbly. George tilted his head up as he looked down fondly.

“It’s what friends do, Dream.” He held out his hand as Dream took it and he pulled him to his feet. “Thank you for doing that, just please tell me next time you’re doing something big, okay?”

“I will, George.” Dream smiled as George turned back to the crowd.

“In recent news, the traitor problem has been dealt with-“

“So that’s just it then, they’re gone?” Purpled piped up from the back. “No trial, no justice?”

George’s gaze turned fierce. “They’ve provided enough evidence to put them away for life.”

“One of the ‘traitors’ you’re talking about, Punz? I know him. He’s my friend. He’s loyal, he was loyal to you, Dream. I know he would never do something like that.”

Dream scoffed. “Loyal. He sure seemed plenty loyal when he held that ax up to my throat-!”

“You liar-!” Purpled snapped before George’s voice boomed throughout the room. 

“Enough!” George shouted. “No more arguing. Purpled, Dream was the one and only key witness we have for any of the events that transpired, and the markings on his chest are evidenced enough for his claims. It’s all we have to go on, and as far as I’m aware, it’s the truth. Punz was one of the people who nearly took Dream’s final life.” George’s hand found its way into Dream’s, squeezing it for strength. “So as far as I’m concerned, the ban won’t be lifted. Understood?”

Purpled scoffed, taking a breath. “Fine.” 

“I know it can be hard to believe, but people change.” George closed his eyes briefly, taking a breath, his mind still struggling to wrap his head around it all. “Sometimes… sometimes it’s just not for the better.” 

“But,” Dream began. “We have each other now.” He smiled warmly as he looked down across the crowd. “That’s all that matters. Finally, the server can be at peace. Finally, we can be one big happy family.”

“...no…” Heads turned toward the back of the room towards Ranboo, sizzling filling the air as a tear slid down his cheek. Dream tilted his head in interest as George just looked over, confused. “No… no no no no…” Ranboo fell to his knees as his breathing quickened.

“Ranboo..?” Hbomb looked over toward the teen, concerned at the sudden change. He slowly moved over as Ranboo’s body shook violently with sobs. “Ranboo, it’s okay.”

“No no no it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault-“ Ranboo whimpered, before moving to snatch Hbomb’s arm quickly as if he just realized he could move freely. “I’m a traitor, aren’t I? I’m the real traitor, I betrayed everyone, it’s all my fault!“

HBomb, startled, pulled away from his grip as he backed up, and Foolish helped him stand, noticing the red irritated marks on H’s forearm. Charlie and Foolish exchanged glances as he approached. “Ranboo, I think you need to calm down, man.”

Ranboo rushed to his feet, launching himself toward Charlie as he stumbled and fell, the glasses-wearing slime boy catching him. “We’re all trapped, everyone’s trapped, oh gods we’re all gonna die-” Ranboo’s eyes looked a mixture of panicked and scared, and Charlie gently lowered both of them to the floor. 

“Okay, let’s just sit down and take a deep breath-“

Tears streamed down Ranboo’s face, trailing burn marks he didn’t seem to even notice. “No no no no no no no it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault-”

“He really must’ve been messed up from yesterday - I don’t blame him, breaking me out of that hell wasn’t easy. Poor thing must be hysterical.” Dream’s voice cut through the crowd as he slowly approached, George following close behind.

“No no no no no no…” Ranboo practically whimpered, shaking violently on the floor, unaware of Dream’s presence before Dream silently knelt next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He went completely silent as his shoulders tensed.

“I think you should get some sleep. You need to relax, it’s okay Ranboo.” Ranboo slowly turned to face Dream in silent terror as Dream moved to gently hold his hand in his own. “It’s all okay now. We won.” Dream smiled warmly, moving to hug Ranboo tightly, his body beginning to relax once more under his touch.

“No…” The enderman whispered so quietly it could barely be heard.

“Come on, let me help you upstairs, you can rest up there for now and later I can help you get back to your base.”

“Yes.” His voice was dull as it had been mere minutes prior to his breakdown. Hannah looked on the scene, concerned and confused - the prison did this? To Ranboo?

As they passed, Purpled caught how emotionless Ranboo’s expression became, which only confirmed what he already feared - something was definitely wrong here. Whatever it was, he was going to figure it out, one way or another.

-------------------------------------------------

Dream pressed in the six-digit key code from memory quickly, the metal door opening at his command as he stepped through, grabbing a torch to light his way. He pressed on past the signs that read ‘DANGER: CONSTRUCTION ZONE’ or ‘CAUTION: DEATH AHEAD’. He had it all planned out perfectly. They’d never figure it out, he’d make sure of it. Finally, he was in control again - just the way it was meant to be. No more stupid countries or annoying kids ruining everything.

The compact hallway opened up to a dimly lit obsidian room. Beds lined either wall with medical equipment, machines. Dream passed by his old friends, his old companions, his traitors, all hooked up to drips to make sure they didn’t starve, he didn’t want them to die, of course - he wasn’t a monster. They all slept peacefully next to each other, surrounded by an aura of white light. A barrier even he couldn’t cross. 

A voice erupted in his head, one he hadn’t heard in quite a while. “Do you regret any of this? At all?” Dream stopped for a moment, looking around until he noticed the proclaimed god sitting on top of the enderchest at the end of the room. XD looked around at the beds, distanced. 

“No, why should I?”

“Hm, well…” XD began, hopping off the chest to look over at a sound asleep Captain Puffy, reaching through the barrier to fondly brush a bit of hair out of her face. “You’re going insane, for one.” Dream glanced over at the god who paid him no mind. “You messed up last time, your perfect plan didn’t work, and yet… you’re doing it again. Throwing away people, friendships-”

“HA!” Dream laughed dryly. “You really think all of that was real?”

“We both know it was.” 

“...” Dream paused, looking over at XD coldly. “Then you’re just as stupid as they are.”

-----------------------------------

Once upon a time there was an enderman prince named Ranboo. He escaped the terrible fate that befell his own kingdom for a hefty price - a memory curse. The enderboy woke up in the promised land of opportunity with no one and no place to call home. He was welcomed with open arms and given friendship and a place to call his own. Along the way, he met a boy with his heart on his sleeve, a soldier fallen from grace, a fox who searched for the truth in others instead of himself, an old war-ridden tyrant with a taste for power, and two protectors of the people - one who witnessed millions of deaths, and one who caused them. Slowly, with each new passing day, Ranboo built a house, and then a home.

Seeing the boy’s power, the corrupted warrior sought to control and use it for himself. The prince heard gods speak to him through walls he could not escape from if he tried, and, as many before him, slowly went mad as he fell into the dark warrior’s whims. He lied to himself to grant him peace of mind and restore his sanity, yet it only prolonged the inevitable. He should have known how uncomfortably easy the pieces fell into place. He should have told someone. He should have tried to stop it, before it was too late.

He shouldn’t have ignored what was right in front of him. 

Maybe then, just maybe, the story could’ve had a different ending.

Ranboo knew the story of it all. He knew it was supposed to be the end, it was all supposed to end. They were all supposed to live happily ever after. Everyone was finally happy - Tommy had his hotel, Tubbo was looking over Snowchester, Wilbur and Schlatt were back, Sam was working on the prison, and they were finally beginning to break through and help those under that stupid Egg’s influence.

He remembered what happened too well - how Dream looked at him and trapped him with his trident when he tried to run away on the roof of the prison. He looked down and noticed the TNT in his hands, he remembered dropping it in shock as Dream just laughed. ‘Looks like somebody finally figured it out.’ He was so scared he couldn’t move, he could barely muster the energy to scream as Dream simply tilted his head like so and it was all over. He remembered trying to scream for Tubbo, Phil, Technoblade - someone, anyone at all.

But no one came.

Dream’s laughter still doesn’t leave his head as he sits in his own body, almost watching a movie, his eyes always forced wide open. Each hour of each day he spent practically glued to Dream’s side. He told him he would act as his guard - protecting both Dream and his little secret. On the fifth day he couldn’t stomach the panic much anymore and ended up making himself vomit, which Dream quickly fixed by shoving a potion bottle in his mouth, a potion to forcibly keep him from vomiting, and going about his day. More potions. More drugs. More to numb the pain. 

But the pain didn’t stop. He wanted it to stop.

Ranboo wanted to scream, he wanted to tell Purpled and Foolish what happened to him with that man standing right there, what really happened to the others, but all he could say was ‘yes’ and ‘no’. He felt like a traitor, and in a way he was - he helped Dream escape, he helped that monster escape and hurt so many people, it was all his fault. He wanted to fix this. He needed to fix this. Why couldn’t he just wake up?! Now, walking down the rows of beds lining the walls, he focused on trying to remember the stories. He had to, so if he ever escaped this hell of a prison he could be of some use to the others, they needed to know. His own voice echoed in his mind.

‘Once upon a time there were two orphans who cared for and loved each other…a king obsessed with gold…a woman surrounded by death…two friends known throughout the kingdom as famous thieves…a man left with no memories of his past or his lover…a boy with no mother or father, working under his stepfather and two horrible stepbrothers… a kid who owned a cow and dreamed of adventure…’

Once upon a time, the end was only the beginning.

[sealpointselkie]

The Story of THE TREE and it's GUARDIANS - Ampithere AU

Art by: @sealpointselkie​

Long ago, before humans came to this land, there was THE TREE. It stood upon the highest peak in the area and dominated the landscape; so tall, it towered over the rest of the trees of the rainforest, and even above the clouds themselves. But it was not to last. Clever people moved across the land bridge and started migrating their way down the new continents until they made the area around THE TREE their home. This wasn’t a problem in itself, the humans learned how to make the rain forest their home and slowly began exploring the surrounding area. They eventually found the mountain and the fruits of THE TREE at the summit: the golden yellow and purple black apples created many miracles. The Golden Apples could increase the fertility of the people and land, wine made with the fruit would bestow wisdom upon the drinkers and was offered every time there was an alliance, important marriage or peace talks. The Dark fruits had opposite effects, it could be used in various potions to poison the land and water, make women infertile and poison the minds of those who drank it leaving them open to manipulation. However, the mountain THE TREE topped was very steep and it’s natural hazards meant that far more humans attempted the climb than could make it to the top, and so everything was as it should be.

Then the invaders came, humans with pale skin and evil hearts ripped into the land and the people there until, finally, they too discovered THE TREE. With their technology scaling the mountain wasn’t as difficult and the fruits were taken on mass, preserved and scattered across the world.

This was an affront to the natural order of things so therefore, the Great Spirits above us decided these event must stop and, with a heavy heart, they threw lightning and fire from the heavens and shook the ground beneath the mountain until it broke in two and the tree tumbled from it’s mighty perch, leaving just a broken stump and large roots to remind others of it’s passing. Strangely, the invaders forgot THE TREE and it’s fruits, we are unsure if the information was repressed somehow or if the Great Spirits blighted their minds.

Take heart reader, this isn’t the end of the story! From the corpse of the tree emerged the two GUARDIANS who shepherded the last of THE TREE’s fruit and took them to their respective summits for safe keeping. The GUARDIANS are a beautiful mix of bird and serpent, their wings soft and glorious but their bodies lithe and warning you of their danger. Their faces are human, but if all the flesh had melted away. Sometimes on a clear day you can see them flying, frolicking with one another. The way of the mountain changed, if you wished for one of THE TREE’s no only did you have to scale one of TWO mountains, you had to treat with the GAURDIANS and convince them that you are worthy.

And this is how it went for a few hundred years; the invaders never left, however, only the locals knew the story about THE TREE and somehow they were the only ones who could see it, protecting it from the invaders interest.

The GUARDIANS were quite different from one another: one Golden and Positive the other Dark and Negative. In that way the locals named them DREAM and NIGHTMARE, gods of GOOD and EVIL, of POSITIVITY and NEGATIVITY. And although they were opposites, they strangely got a long very well, calling each other “brother” and could often be seen playing together or sleeping together in the vines that crossed their two peaks and bound them together.

It was obvious that DREAM received more supplicants than NIGHTMARE. DREAM was much more approachable and gracious than NIGHTMARE, also his fruits helped people instead of hurting them. Sometime hurt was necessary, however many locals’ minds turned to survival before attempting the climb. It didn’t go unnoticed by NIGHTMARE that his supplicants were fewer, his gifts cheaper and their demands more often unworthy of one of his fruits. This depressed NIGHTMARE and he cursed his fate as GUARDIAN of these cursed, evil fruits. DREAM’s supply of fruits were steadily dwindling, soon he’d be FREE and, although he assured NIGHTMARE that he would stay until they both discharged their duty, NIGHTMARE didn’t want to be the reason that DREAM couldn’t finally leave this place to explore the world beyond.

Then NIGHTMARE had an idea, if there were no more of his fruits, their problem would be solved! He couldn’t, in good conscience, just scatter them for innocent people to find, he knew how much damage a single one of his fruits could cause. There was no other option: NIGHTMARE would have to consume the fruits himself.

NIGHTMARE didn’t fear death by the fruits, his nature as the GUARDIAN protected him from their most heinous effects. However as he consumed more and more, he realized something was terribly wrong. He breath turned from lightning into spewing a cloud of dark, poisonous gas, his scales and bones darkened to an inky darkness and four tentacles erupted from his back, he was in such pain that he clawed one of his eyes from his sockets. The poison also seeped into his mind and he felt his frustration, shame, rage and envy bubble forth clouding his mind.

When DREAM realized what was happening he rushed to his brother’s side and tried to comfort him through his agony, however he couldn’t know the changes that here happening in NIGHTMARE’s mind. For the first time, the brothers fought. NIGHTMARE lashed out screaming about the unfairness of the GREAT SPIRITS and how his brother was favoured by everyone over him; DREAM, for his part, could do nothing but defend himself from injury at this point while NIGHTMARE’s fury damaged their home. Eventually they fought to a stand-still, NIGHTMARE retreating to his cave and declaring if DREAM came close there would be blows. DREAM left for his side of the once whole mountain and fell to despair.

He did nothing as NIGHTMARE sneered at him saying that: now that there were no fruits to guard he was free to leave, and did nothing to prevent his departure. NIGHTMARE deserved his freedom, DREAM decided as he watched him go, protecting the few fruits he had left, NIGHTMARE had paid a great price for it.

Eventually DREAM too ran out of fruits to guard, however, he couldn’t bring himself to leave his mountain. What if his brother came back? He’d have no way of finding him again, because, deep down, DREAM still longed to see his brother again.

And eventually he did! NIGHTMARE returned to their mountains with an entourage of Harpys. He told his brother DREAM that he found the world horrible and destructive beyond even his worst nightmares and decided to protect what’s his the best he can: and the safest place he could think of was home. DREAM welcomed him, and his friends (ENTOURAGE) back and although everything was NOT forgiven between the brothers, they began to rebuild their relationship. They’d take turns, exploring the world, meeting other ampithere gods and bringing home any harpys they found back home, building a bustling community far away from the predations of man.

But what of the Harpys? What did they think of their “saviours”? And the other gods?, What were they like? All stories for another time.

The End?

Dream and Nightmare Sans created by @jokublog

Ampithere Dream and Ampithere Nightmare created by @sealpointselkie

[raeynbowboi]

BnHA Crossover Class 1-A

I saw a post this morning about the Teen Titans in UA, and it got me thinking about the quirks that would be found with other characters, so I cobbled together a class of 20 students from popular media, and tried to either turn their existing powers into quirks, or gave them quirks. It was a lot of fun, and I’m thinking of doing a class 1-B as well.

Name: Dick Grayson Hero Alias: Robin Quirk: Deductive Reasoning When Dick touches things, he can deduce their origins. He can tell the sort of gun that made bullet holes, whether something was written with the right or left hand, the way a knife was held while attacking a victim, or the height and weight of a culprit by finding their footprint. This makes Dick an expert in criminal profiling.

Name: Koriand’r (Corey Anders) Hero Alias: Starfire Quirk: Heartfelt Koriand’r’s quirk relies heavily on her emotions. She must be feeling a certain way to make use of her quirk, and cannot summon her powers unless she feels that way. To fly, she must think happy thoughts. For super strength, she needs boundless confidence. And for her starbolts, she must have a righteous fury.

Name: Garfield Logan Hero Name: Beast Boy Quirk: Animal Kingdom Garfield can turn into any animal he has seen before, but he can only copy the features of the animal that he knows about. This can include extinct and fictitious animals, but in order to become those, he must understand their biology and genetic make-up. Creating wings is pointless if he doesn’t know how to make them aerodynamic. This also means he can’t produce a dragon’s fire breath unless he can figure out a biological process to achieve this. Due to a mutation quirk he inherited, Garfield and any animal he becomes are permanently green.

Name: Rachel Roth Hero Alias: Raven Quirk: Psychic Soul Rachel’s soul is a semi-conscious entity within her. It is highly sensitive to the presence and emotions of others, and due to its link to Rachel, allows her to feel these sensations through her soul. This means she can tell how many people are in an area, and what they’re feeling. She can send pieces of her soul out into objects, allowing her to lift them with her mind, giving her telekinetic powers, or she can project the soul itself to create platforms, forcefields, or a bird-shaped battering ram. She can even use her telekinesis to lift herself, floating through the air, or envelop herself in her own soul and pass through solid objects. She requires daily meditation to focus and sharpen her mind, or risk letting her psychic powers become destructive and untamed.

Name: Victor Stone Hero Alias: Cyborg Quirk: Mechanical Infusion Vic has the ability to fuse technology into his body, a quirk which saved his life after his sports team bus had an accident and he was almost a casualty. The hospital technology infused with his body, and kept him alive. Since then, he’s focused on upgrading and improving his cybernetic enhancements, with a wide variety of technological detachments and gadgets built into his body. But his pride and joy is the sonic cannon he designed himself. While he can infuse any machine into his body, he’d be a horrible mechanical blob if he didn’t know how to compartmentalize. He maintains his humanoid appearance by understanding how to fold and store things inside of himself to fit as much in without overstuffing himself.

Name: Ruby Rose Hero Alias: Black Rose Quirk: Petal Storm Ruby’s quirk allows her to turn her body into a scattering of rose petals that move at a windswept speed. The petals can separate to move around objects, but must come back together for her to take human form again.

Name: Weiss Schnee Hero Alias: Ice Queen Quirk: Fairydust Weiss’ body naturally produces Dust, primarily in the form of powder. She has outfitted her revolver rapier to turn this dust into a variety of magical attacks. With enough dust, she can even create glyphs, a stationary magical property whose effect varries by the kind of dust she uses.

Blake Belladonna Hero Alias: Noir Quirk: Copycat Blake can leave a shadow duplicate of herself to take a hit for her. She can launch herself off the clones as well. However, the clones are not solid and cannot hit enemies for her. Instead they disappear after being hit by anything.

Yang Xiao Long Hero Alias: Dragonfire Quirk: Burn When Yang takes damage, it builds up in her muscles, allowing her to retaliate with tremendous strength. Her quirk causes her body to produce flames when angry, and she can shoot these flames with her punches, but not her kicks.

Name: Steven Universe Hero Alias: Pink Diamond Quirk: Gemstone Steven has a gemstone in his belly, which allows him to summon a shield made of hard light, and lets him give sentience to plants, as well as heal injuries and repair inorganic material. He can even merge himself with another person, creating a hybrid that shares a combination of their quirks.

Name: Aang Hero Alias: Avatar Aang Quirk: Force of Nature Aang has the ability to manipulate air, water, fire, or rocks within his vascinity. He has the greatest control over Air, but can manipulate the others as well. When he bends all four at once, Aang becomes able to tap into the raw power of nature itself, and awakens his full power, but becomes destructive and uncontrollable when he does so.

Name: Katara Hero Alias: Arctic Fox Quirk: Waterbending Katara can manipulate water, snow, and ice near her. Her body is highly acclimated to the cold, and with practice she can even create water by drawing moisture from the air and plants. She can even control the water inside of living things, but she doesn’t like using this unless she feels she has to.

Name: Sokka Hero Alias: White Wolf Quirk: Pack Tactics Sokka’s natural senses are hightened to the skill of a wolf’s, especially his hearing and smelling. This natural mutation quirk he inherited from his father makes him a master tracker. Sokka’s physical abilities improve when he’s around other people. As such, Sokka tends to avoid one-on-one fights if he can help it.

Name: Toph Beifong Hero Alias: Blind Bandit Quirk: Earthbending Toph can manipulate the earth underfoot, and bend it to her will. Her connection to Earth has become so finetuned that Toph can feel the vibrations of things in the ground and relay those signals to the entirety of her body. Because of this, she can see in 360 degrees, and detect small details others easily overlook.

Name: Zuko Hero Alias: Blue Spirit Quirk: Firebending Zuko can produce flames from his body when he uses proper martial arts form. However, he is highly disciplined in combat that doesn’t use his quirk, being a master in stealth and infiltration tactics. He is trained in the use of twin dao swords. His family is a prominent superpowered mafia, with his father being a notorious crime lord kingpin. Zuko applied to UA in secret, and covers for his absence by claiming to be undercover.

Name: Lance McClain Hero Name: Sharpshooter Quirk: Eagle Eye Lance’s quirk gives him extremely focused ocular perception, which makes his use of a stun gun highly effective. Lance’s gun has a built in freeze ray that turns his bullets into ice pellets. He has some skill with a sword and carries one in case he needs it, but due to his focus on ranged combat, he’s at a disadvantage once melee combatants get within close range of him.

Name: Keith Kogane Hero Alias: Yurak Quirk: Galran Keith’s appearance becomes more animalistic as he becoems angry, turning purple and developing feline-like traits. This includes the growth of fangs, claws, and animalistic eyes. This form is faster and stronger than his base human form. Keith is also very adept with a sword, carrying one into battle.

Name: Katie Holt Hero Alias: Pidge Quirk: Hacker Any technology Katie comes into contact with, she can rewire and reprogram. Because of this, Katie always has a stash of robotic drones to aid her in her field work. She had a promising future in the Support course, but she insisted on pursuing the hero course at UA.

Name: Hunk Garrett Alias: Gourmand Quirk: Iron Stomach Hunk is a walking tank whose body can dampen the damage he takes. This natural defense is increased when he eats. Especially when he eats good food. Certain spices and flavors also give him other temporary bonus features, such as spicy food dampening heat and fire damage, or mixed drinks letting him breathe underwater for a short time. He can even store energy in his stomach and fire it like a projectile, but this tires him out and makes him hungry.

Name: Allura Hero Name: Supernova Quirk: Alchemy Allura has a number of magical abilities she can perform, such as healing, creating blasts of magic, and other such magical things. Allura is skilled with a bo staff and primarily uses a segmented whip-sword. Her father was killed by a supervillain, and Allura swore she would become a hero in order to avenge his death.

[itsuki-minamy]

“R:B” CHAPTER 1 (Complete)

TRANSLATION & RAWS: NARU-KUN

The murderous wilderness was spreading.

The rugged terrain that both feet step on connects to the horizon beyond. There is nothing to block and the dry air caresses the skin. The blue night that stretched above his head was so deep that it reminded him of the jet black of the universe.

Desolate, vast space.

A casual, cold and lonely world.

However, something is refreshing. There are no shackles or ways of fastening. Everything is refreshing. It is formed by the power itself and only the will determines the future. Strict, tough, lazy, free.

So he ran as his heart commanded.

It didn't make sense, but there was no city, so he hurried.

The feeling of the hard earth is transmitted to the feet. It is the dry and dusty wind that makes the hair flutter. The exhaled breath is hot. Heat invades and overflows the body. It is painful. However, his face was broken. There was a type in which the mind and the body were elevated.

The meat moves, the bones are removed and the blood flow runs. The cells of the body are full of something fresh.

He moved his limbs with all his might and kicked the ground with all his might. He kept running all the way, forever. Still, the world is wide. Overwhelmingly broad. It was so high that he could see it, and it was deep to the bottom.

It is a reason.

When he realized it, his heart broke free. The tiny body and the vast world became one through the soul.

Will come here one day. He always thought so.

When he can he will come here. He has always expected it.

He simply cannot admit that there is no such place.

++++++++++

The intangible irritation was eroding Suoh Mikoto.

It's hot and humid, midnight in the middle of summer. Countless voices echoed out of nowhere in the alley where Suoh was.

Angry. Hoarsely. They scream. And the shot that goes through them.

However, the most striking sound is probably that of flames, which burns violently at night. When Suoh's team, “Homura”, sharpens their fangs, it is always the sound that flows on the battlefield. The dissonance of destruction echoed down the alley, transmitting the warmth of fighting spirit and madness.

Suoh takes out the cigarette as he walks, lights it, inhales it slowly into his lungs, and exhales.

The dissonance grew stronger toward the back of the alley.

What illuminates the area is the unreliable streetlight. However, at the destination, a creepy light reflects off the wall of the building and flickers. Fire and flame. If you look closely, you can see the traces of destruction on the nearby walls and on the ground.

The burning smell of fireproofs pierces the nose and gives heat, which is different from the sun during the day, the upper arm clings to the sword. Signs of intense violence. However, Suoh's expression doesn't budge. There is an obligatory atmosphere somewhere and he walks in silence.

Something was found in the darkness of the alley.

Is a person. The fallen man moved as he approached the corporal. Suoh's line of sight moves in a hurry.

Apparently he was weak. The well-tanned skin and deeply carved features are not Japanese. The clothes he was wearing were torn, and conspicuous burn marks were visible.

The man staggered, but when he noticed Suoh at his side, he shook his face.

"Hey."

He yelled briefly and pointed to the gun he was holding.

Suoh looks at whoever is pointing it with an uninteresting look. Smoke and exhale.

"...Get lost."

Low, thick and dry voice. Still, it is a mysterious bright voice.

On the other hand, when the man repositioned his gun with both hands, he repeated the shallow breathing.

A strong man, perhaps routine, who has come into contact with violence. But now, the man's eyes lacked calm judgment. All that remains, is a simple fear of irrational and mysterious things.

Suoh's lips, who had added a cigarette again, closed and distorted.

Just a few moves, "Ka".

Immediately afterward, the man fired while screaming.

A sharp shot explodes and the flame flickers. But almost at the same time, a light that far exceeded the fire swirled between the two.

It is not a flame, it is a high density mass of "power" in the form of a flame. The fired bullet was swallowed by the flame that suddenly appeared and disappeared with the flame. A momentary event. However, the living flame is etched in the mind of the viewer as a burn mark.

The man screamed loudly and threw his gun at him to escape. A monster, screaming in the alley. Suoh looked at the back of the fleeing man with his severed face. Then he inhales a lot and exhale.

Purple smoke spills into a windless alley and melts into the humid night air. Unknowingly, his eyes chased the smoke, and Suoh lifted his chin and looked up.

This area is an old commercial district. The multi-tenant buildings lined up have concrete walls that narrow the summer night sky. It appears to be at the bottom of the hole or even inside it.

From the alley where sound and heat are muddy as starch, only the fine purple smoke that is gracefully exhaled escapes into the clear sky. Suoh felt the irritation focus on the rest of his body.

Suoh waved the cigarette roughly, hit the soles with a step, and started walking again.

At the end of the alley.

Finally, the alley was cut and he went out into an open space. It is a warehouse built along the old street and a parking lot for large vehicles prepared in front. Immediately, the sound and heat that doubled in the alley rushed like a tsunami.

Many men fight two-handed.

One is a group of people of different ages and races who continue to shoot in the warehouse. The screams are also mixed with syllabary in English and Chinese. According to information from Kusanagi Izumo, an advisor to "Homura", it appears that they are from the Southeast Asian criminal mafia organization, who began to enter and leave the Shizume-cho area earlier this year. He hears the main business is buying and selling drugs and firearms, but the guns they have now are probably part of the product.

On the other hand, it is the young people who have settled in the street who are attacking the stopped truck instead. It is a group of not a few minors. They don't have any kind of firearms, and at most they have things like knives and iron pipes in their empty fists. It is not a force that can compete with the armed mafia. However, they were removing one after another the gangsters who had spread through the alleys, and finally pushed them into the warehouse.

It is their "power" that fills the overwhelming difference in strength between them.

It was a flame-shaped "power" that they were manipulating as members. It is nothing else, the "power" that Suoh gave them.

Possessor of the ability to induce peculiar phenomena.

Among them, including Suoh, there are only seven people in the world, Ex-A individuals, popularly called "King's Power", and some were also simply called "King". The street gang, "Homura", is the "clan" with whom he shared his power.

The red clan "Homura" led by the third king, the Red King, Suoh Mikoto.

They are such a talented group of people that they are hunting down the armed mafia.

"Mikoto-san!"

One of the members was quick to notice that Suoh appeared in the parking lot. Rikio Kamamoto, a veteran of the team.

"Sorry! We wanted to finish it by the time you got there, Mikoto-san, but they even took out machine guns."

Under the word, he roared a series of different shots. It is not a gun. As Kamamoto reported, it is probably an assault machine gun. He sees the members of "Homura" running towards the shadow of the truck.

"Damn it! Don't be afraid! I'll make a wall with flames and push it!"

"Damn. Roll back, not forward!"

The screams of the members can be heard from the shot.

Despite being exposed to intense firefights, the members of "Homura" did not appear to be weakened.

On the contrary, the sense of exhilaration to exercise "power" as they wish makes them feel joyous and even joyful.

Everyone was full of energy and their eyes were shining.

Fierce fighting spirit and madness. The heat that had been transmitted to the alley was now filling the area.

Suoh frowned slightly.

The blood is burning. The enthusiasm emanating from the entire body seems to be provoking Suoh. The "power" in Suoh wants to be released like his friends.

At that moment, a flash of light ran through the warehouse window, making a sharp, sparkling noise on the asphalt. Suoh's feet. A series of landings snaked like a seam, the surface of the street was crushed and debris bounced. Kamamoto hurriedly stepped on, "Oh?"

"Damn it! Mikoto-san, please be careful!"

With Kamamoto yelling in a hurry, Suoh looked around the warehouse. The distance is about 200 meters. It's a good range. Suoh waved the cigarette. The back of his body tenses. The impulse of "power" approaches the throat.

Suoh's "power" is flame.

He fundamentally hates slavery and wants freedom.

"Mikoto-san!"

When Kamamoto urged him on, the bullets flew again. A bullet that jumps overhead lands on the asphalt behind. Kamamoto jumped in front of Suoh, yelling "Watch out!" Trying to protect the "King" with his own shield.

But,

"Kamamoto. Go away."

Suoh said that carelessly, made a noise and stepped forward. Kamamoto looked back to say something, but when he saw Suoh, he swallowed the words. Then, as if pushed by Suoh's magnetic field, he naturally stepped aside.

Take two or three steps forward. He spits out the cigarette and stomps on it. Immediately afterwards, the bullets grab the side again. A smile came to him. The blood was playing.

All good.

A bright red aura escaped from Suoh Mikoto's entire body.

The aura that colors Suoh turns into a burning pillar of fire, expelling the darkness around him. Heat waves struck the surroundings suspiciously, and the humid night air instantly burned away. But what is most striking, is his powerful presence. And it was a feeling of intimidation like a fire giant, that you can't think of the same person.

The men who were fighting enthusiastically caught their breath and looked back.

Then after a second, they screamed louder than before. However, some are terrifying and others scream with joy.

The perimeter aura spreads explosively and occupies the entire area.

Probability deviation field of the king, is the "area" of the king called "Sanctuary". Furthermore, the released "force" shoots up into the sky, is concentrated at a certain point, and is compressed to form a "shape".

A huge "sword" that appears high in the sky with the release of the "enormous power of royal authority". The sword-shaped energy body, which is a crystal of "power" and symbolizes real power, was called the "Sword of Damocles" following the history of ancient Greece due to the "possibility" of the phenomenon.

The members of “Homura” took a breath.

And,

"No Blood! No Bone! No Ash!"

They raise their voices like crazy and thrust their fist skyward.

The King's "Sword of Damocles" is the source and symbol of the "power" of the clan members and the flag of "Homura." They are proud of him and his friends. The screams of fiercely violent, yet transparently pure youths screamed to the point of conquering the summer night.

But…

Is not sufficient.

Still not enough. That "power" is a feeling and a passion. The red waves that sprout from the limbs have yet to come out. More and more. He wants to release that "power" that boils like magma. Everywhere, forever, to the limit. No, he wants to go beyond the limits and run until he breaks.

It is an unreasonable desire to be released.

He's hungry, the flames jump.

Sparks fly.

Suoh's flame gained even more power. It gained even more momentum. The voltage of "Homura" increases proportionally. The hot air has now turned into a soggy heat vortex, making all tangible things deeply compressed and squishy. Kamamoto, who was on the other side, stumbled unbearably and stuck to the bottom. The moment Suoh's entire body was integrated with the flame, a small crack ran in the "Sword of Damocles" high above. It's okay. It's even better if he tear everything down, screw everything up, and that's it.

But…

"...King."

There was a light voice that did not suit the occasion.

Suoh suddenly tightens the loose rope. The "power" that was about to be unleashed went crazy at once.

Suoh suppresses it with all his might, but the trapped "power" immediately increases the internal pressure on Suoh.

The Sword of Damocles is flawed, and the blade cracks as if to complain.

"Please forgive me. It's hot and dry."

The unreliable voice, however, was uncontrollable in reflective passion that crept through the turbulence of "power" and reached inside Suoh. A lead line of sight that melted when heated entered the lead vocal. The murderous impulse of violence seems to have a mass of its own. However, when the young man smiled, he showed his shoulders to Suoh's eyes.

Tatara Totsuka, executive of "Homura".

He is a kind and neutral young man who seems to have nothing to do with violence. However, Totsuka smiles in front of the "King" on the verge of an outburst without hesitation.

Suoh stood up with all skeletal muscles contracted for a while.

Then he relaxed his whole body a bit.

He carefully lower the internal pressure that was the limit.

Look around.

The space around the area is already filled with exploding "power". The clan member, who receives the king, can exercise more "power" than usual in the "Sanctuary". If it had been a fifty percent battle situation up until now, it would have been impossible for the enemy to win.

He does not need more.

"......"

The pillar of fire that swallowed Suoh slowly melted into the night air. Enemies and allies. While looking at everyone in the place, Suoh took out the cigarette, lit it, slowly inhaled it into his lungs, and exhaled.

"...Burn them."

Short command.

The voice that answered was brave and fierce, and seemed to clearly indicate the whereabouts of victory or defeat. Kamamoto leaps to his feet and runs to the front line. Not just him. The members of "Homura" jump out of the shadow of the truck and run to the warehouse.

However, Suoh didn't even look at them. Various urges that are still hard, he presses his lips and desperately gets over it.

"King?"

Totsuka asks to think about it. Suoh barely replied, "Oh.", While looking away from Totsuka.

"I have watered it."

It seems like he couldn't help but say it after knowing everything. Suoh's harsh expression was revealed in the apology that appears to be Totsuka. At the same time, the mind regains balance.

"Leave the rest to them."

"Okay. Still, there is no room for me."

The clansmen who witnessed the majesty of the "King" attacked the warehouse immediately. The battle will end soon. Suoh slowly releases smoke.

"Sorry."

"Ah?"

"No, you see. At the moment, I had a strange feeling."

"What are you saying?"

Suoh's strength gradually unraveled as Totsuka laughed. Suoh was somewhat conscious and smiled bitterly.

He is still irritated. The anger lasted a little longer, it was supposed to settle deep down on Suoh while the total amount was reduced a bit. As usual. Suoh has been screaming and screaming for years with intangible irritation eroding him. Even with the fire of the "King", there are things that cannot be burned.

"Damn…"

Why did he become king? The self-question that has been repeated many times since that day three years ago, returns to his heart.

But that was the moment.

There was no sign. It's not like I feel anything.

However, Suoh suddenly raised his head and looked in the direction of the night sky as he was guided by his intuition.

It is the eastern sky.

"What?"

And Totsuka lags slightly behind and turns his neck in the same direction as Suoh.

Suoh's red "Sword of Damocles" floats high above them.

And, maybe it's his imagination. Beyond the night sky they gazed at, he felt blue light flickering.

Like a shooting star or something.

"What?"

"......"

Suoh silently does not respond to Totsuka's words. However, he kept staring up at the sky.

The fight continues.

However, Suoh couldn't look away for some reason.

++++++++++

"Blue King?"

"Yes. The position has been vacant for a long time, but it seems that it has finally been filled."

Totsuka listens from the counter, Kusanagi nodded while cleaning a glass tumbler.

"HOMRA" is a retro-style bar in a corner of Shizume-cho. In addition to the seasoned counter, there are vintage couch and tables in the large wooden shop. The rows of colored bottles lined up on the rear bar are truly authentic.

However, contrary to cocktail making, "HOMRA" is the real territory of the red clan recognized by "Accord 120," and even the home of Suoh Mikoto, where the executives of the "Homura" street gang gather. The owner and master is Kusanagi Izumo. He is still twenty-four years old, but he took over the shop originally run by his uncle.

"Ah... but the information is still fast."

"I don't care about that, it's about me."

"Well, because 'King' is 'King'."

"Can you use it a little more carefully? For now, keep a low profile."

"There is. It's like a Hagi snake."

It's not a bad wind, but Totsuka sticks out his tongue. Kusanagi shrugged his shoulders.

Kusanagi is a high rank. He dyes his hair and often wears light-colored sunglasses. He seems like a smart gamer, but he's actually quite a difficult person. He was the oldest of the main members of "Homura", and probably because of that, he had a bad feeling of familiarity.

On the other hand, Totsuka is a young man of innocent childishness. The neat face is also feminine, and the piercing in the left ear looks good. Although he is an executive in a street gang, the impression that he is violent is probably of a distant kind.

Suoh, Kusanagi and Totsuka became their first clansmen (Clansman) when Suoh, who had been associated with them before Suoh was chosen "King", woke up as "King". Three years ago. When Suoh was nineteen.

"The former 'Blue King' died when the crater was created, right?"

"It's the so-called Kagutsu incident. The previous 'Red King' lost control and changed the terrain of Japan. The previous 'Blue King' must have died at that time."

"Well then that was over a decade ago."

Totsuka leaned freely over the counter and looked away.

Even though it happened over a decade ago, they both recall the confusion of the Kagutsu incident. After all, a huge crater suddenly appeared in the southern part of Kanto, causing hundreds of thousands of victims. There are various opinions about the truth of the case, but only the "King" and his vassals know the truth.

"Hey, that new 'King'..."

Without telling anyone, Totsuka muttered. Kusanagi did not reply and continued to polish the glass in silence. Then after a while, he takes out a cigarette to take a break.

1:00 PM. Even the members of "Homura", who are usually immersed in the place, rarely appear during this time. In "HOMRA", which is noisy until midnight, he can spend more quietly and slowly during the day like now.

The summer sun shines vertically from the skylight and does not enter the store much. The windows were filled with brilliant white light, vividly separating the scorching exterior from the coolness inside.

"Eh? Hey, Kusanagi-san. Now that the new "Blue King" has appeared, will "Scepter 4" be revived?"

"I don't know, but it is likely."

Kusanagi replied casually, pursing his lips and spitting smoke. However, his appearance was mysterious and it can be seen that he foresaw the troubles of the near future.

"Scepter 4".

Its official name is "Family Registration Division of the Tokyo Legal Affairs Office, Fourth Branch". As the name implies, it is an office of a government agency, and its business is "special foreign family record management, etc.".

However, the real situation is "a security organization for people with powers."

Possessors of the ability to induce peculiar phenomena. The so-called skill holders were extremely troublesome and dangerous in modern society. Although it has strong power, it is difficult to distinguish it, and even if it is legally repressed, there is almost no way to impose some kind of regulation in reality. It is like a human being with a firearm that can be used anytime, anywhere, without control, without any qualification or legal responsibility.

However, many of the talented people acquire their unique abilities by receiving "power" from the "King" or under the direction of the "King". As a result, most of them belong to a clan with the "King" at the top, and as a result, they are under some control. Of course, the nature of the clan changes according to the intentions of each "King", but there is the "Agreement 120" between the kings, to curb social unrest and conflicts between clans, and the unorthodox behavior of the members is also suppressed of the clan.

However, it is not that there are no examples of clan members using "power" to commit criminal acts.

Furthermore, there are a number of talented people who spontaneously gain "power" regardless of the "King". The ones called "Strains". Since they do not belong to the clan, they do not care about the "common sense of the world of talented people", such as the implicit understanding of "power", much less the "Agreement 120", or often they do not know it in the first place.

And it is "Scepter 4" that manages and supervises those Strains and represses crimes committed by talented people.

However, this is the story when the "Blue King" was alive. This is because "Scepter 4" has the appearance of "a blue clan led by the Blue King", in addition to its face as a security organization for people with powers. After all, in the face of a criminal with "power", the most effective way to control and capture is to have someone with the same "power" take charge. And the "Blue King" who controls the "power" of the "Red King" that is rooted in "destruction" reveals his "power" based on "order". The "Blue King" and his clan were best suited as security officers for the talented.

However, the previous "Blue King" died in Kagutsu's case 11 years ago.

After that, "Scepter 4" continued to carry out its duties in the absence of the "King", but last year, it suspended its activities following a certain incident. The job was transferred to another clan, resulting in a mid-way teardown. By the way, "Homura" is not little involved in a certain incident.

"Well, there were several things about us and "Scepter 4", but objectively speaking, that was a necessary organization. In fact, after "Scepter 4" disbanded, the problems related to the Strains increased."

"But thanks to that, we are making money."

"That's right. Recently, I feel like there are various adverse effects."

"Really?"

"You feel it?"

When Kusanagi asked and looked back, it seems that Totsuka somehow understands what Kusanagi is saying, with a bitter face that seems difficult to answer.

He hasn't put up a poster in a big way, but "Homura" has been doing something of a problem solver specializing in collecting Strains for some time.

This is the beginning of Suoh's work if the cause is corrected. For a time after graduating from high school, Suoh was imitating a gorilla in the underworld of Shizume-cho. In particular, after waking up as "King", various organizations have used him as a goalkeeper who can deal with problems related to the Strains. And such a demand has not changed even now, with the rise of "Homura" and becoming a major force in the underworld. On the contrary, it tended to increase even more than before. Today, Suoh himself is less likely to come out, but if requested, the "Homura" team will take the place.

Originally, there are many Strains in Shizume-cho. Every corner of the main street is maintained and a huge view of the street is installed, but if you enter from the back of the block, you can see the type of business that the law touches, mainly in the old town. Not only gangsters, but also foreign mafias have taken root.

For that reason, countless people of various positions come and go, and it was a land where it was easy to find a place for strangers like Strain. Naturally, there are many problems related to Strains.

"Of course, after all, it is a group of bad people. It is natural that it is rude..."

Since "Homura" was established as a street gang, there is a strong awareness that "Shizume-cho is their own rope". If a Strain goes crazy in Shizume-cho, they will take the initiative to go on a business trip and do their best to calm the noise. There was an "achievement" for better or for worse, and there was no resistance to responding to such "requests."

The resolution of problems related to Strains is a non-negligible source of income for "Homura".

However,

"Recently, in a bad way, I am recovering."

Then Kusanagi complained at the top.

It is no exaggeration to say that "Homura" dominates Shizume-cho, when it comes to talented people.

In the context of the absolute existence of the "Red King" Suoh Mikoto, rule by power is widespread. And his dominance extends to gangsters and the mafia through jobs like problem solving.

The situation in Shizume-cho was not necessarily bad for many varieties.

Strains that do not have a clan community are often used by the underworld.

In that sense, the criminal organizations rarely use the Strains in Shizume-cho city, where "Homura's" eyes are shining.

Strains who have struggled elsewhere can live in peace to some extent as long as they follow the minimal rules and conventions in Shizume-cho. In fact, hearing about "Homura's" reputation, the number of Strains migrating from other areas was increasing.

On the other hand, "Homura" in Shizume-cho city is inevitably becoming a kind of "authority". And it is that in "Homura" the number of people who realize this in a bad way and increase their attitude is increasing.

"Well, there are some parts that are not screaming to a certain extent, right? We are who we are, we are doing the best we can since the disbandment of “Scepter 4”. However, I don't know if he will become a Tengu. But if I don't understand because he has a bad head and boss, is he of poor quality?"

Such a trend was more pronounced for the newcomers, especially those who were away from Suoh, rather than the old ones who had contributed to "Homura" for a long time. The main members of "Homura" who hang out in "HOMRA" are the same as before. However, on the contrary, those who have less contact with Suoh and the main members, are swept away by the bloated image of "Homura", and they proclaim themselves members of "Homura". There was a strong tendency to show it off.

What's worse, the people around them believe they admit that attitude; rather, it is a tendency to respond positively.

"A recent story, the problem with the previous mob, I heard rumors like the trigger was in "Homura"."

"Eh? If that's true, it's really bad."

"I don't have any confirmation at the moment. When I thought about looking for him, the 'Blue King' came out and I wasn't sure what to do... Well, I don't want to eat villains anymore. Whether it's the minimum amount of morality or not, the reason is that he is an intelligent person."

After muttering to himself, Kusanagi tilted his mouth and lamented, "It's a bit bittersweet lately." "That's a complaint too." Totsuka pointed out cheerfully, and finally spoke a few words.

"But... it's true. Many of the faces that appear in "HOMRA" have strong habits, but they are basically good. Sometimes I forget if "Homura" is the original group."

"There is no 'good boy' in the collapse of the chicken coop, when you say something like someone else's business. Isn't it your responsibility to educate the newcomers?"

"Oh, again, Saruhiko."

"Well, when it comes to this big family, it's hard to keep an eye on the bottom."

That said, Kusanagi sighed with a bitter smile.

When a royal authority gives "power" to a specific person and welcomes him to the clan as a new member of the clan, there is a transit ritual called "Installation". The specific method differs according to the "King", and in Suoh's case, it was "flame". Only those who collect and accept the flame created by Suoh can awaken that "power" and become members of the clan. If it fails, they'll get a huge burn, and if they don't, it's a life-threatening rough installation.

For that reason, not many people want to join the Red Clan, but unlike other kings, Suoh does not deny them the opportunity. Anyone can take up the challenge as long as they are prepared to put their life in danger.

As a result, in proportion to "Homura's" rapid increase in power, the number of daredevils who yearned for the Red Clan increased, and many people appeared who passed through the facility.

Among the members of "Homura" who are basically gory, Totsuka is exceptionally kind and caring. For that reason, it is his role to take care of newcomers, but these days it is difficult to say that he is doing well in flattery.

"After all, I'm weak in 'power'. The guys who came for that kind of thing would see me down."

"When I say something that is not right. I mean, there is a newcomer that you can lose, right? Rather, it is the reason why the slightly demeaning attitude seems sweet. Sometimes it is very easy."

"Even if you say so, it is general."

Totsuka laughed at Kusanagi, who was in his line of sight.

In fact, despite being the oldest member of the clan like Kusanagi, Totsuka's "powers" are extremely weak, he is excellent in precision and dexterity to wield that "power", but he is generally not suitable for combat. He is a nonexistent type.

Still, the true value of Totsuka Tatara lies in the fact that he has earned friendship and trust without hesitation among tough people, but as he himself put it, he was drawn to "power" and "authority". He was often disrespected by those who participated in "Homura". Even if Totsuka is strangely friendly and affectionate, on the other hand, those who aren't interested have a dry side and easily distance themselves.

"Anyway, Kusanagi-san, do you mean if “Scepter 4” is revived, will the people below be tighter than now?"

"I don't think it's okay if I do it, but... I don't think it works."

"Will we crash somewhere?"

"I don't know yet. It depends on what kind of person the new 'Blue King' is. For the moment, the correct answer is to wait and see."

"It's hard to keep up."

"I don't mean it like other people's affairs."

Kusanagi, who was smoking, involuntarily smiled at Totsuka who was still somewhat grumpy.

"By the way, what about the 'Blue King'?"

"Like I said, 'do the right thing'. I hope you take a little more care of yourself so I don't have to worry about it."

"That's it... Kusanagi-san, you're begging for something that doesn't exist."

"What do you say, do you dare say it to my face?"

"Because our "King" is not interested in the struggle for power with other kings. Oh, so why not appear before the Blue Clan at a social gathering to avoid useless conflicts? Are all members of "Homura" required to participate? This season, there is the Obon dance contest."

“Well, it may unexpectedly be the 'Homura' golden rule. If you have a habit of being associated with Bon Dance, you can stretch your spine. Of many ways."

"I will definitely hold my stomach and laugh."

"It is a spectacle to see how are the people who came with strange expectations to "Homura". By the way, let's serve sake. A direct drink from the third king. They will not be afraid to refuse, I will have many stocks of "HOMRA"."

The area where the two oldest executives handle this seriously is probably Suoh's "King" boundary. However, if Suoh was a perfect king, be it Kusanagi or Totsuka, they shouldn't have thought that he would go to the trouble.

But...

When the rulers of Shizume-cho told a ridiculous story, small, light footsteps echoed within the bar. From the stairs leading to the bar, it was a girl who came down.

"Oh, Anna. You were awake."

She is still young, at most an elementary school girl. Before Totsuka who was smiling, her face was thin, but with a serious gesture, she made a small click.

Like a handmade doll, she is a delicate and well-dressed girl in a ruffled dress. The skin is extremely white and the long hair is also white. Still, the round eyes had a deep red color. Red and black based gothic and lolita clothing looks better than ever.

Kushina Anna. She is a member of "Homura", who, although she looks like this, is a member of the Red Clan.

She is also one of the important members, unlike the newcomers from the fund.

"Anna. What about Mikoto?"

"He is still sleeping."

"Oh. Good condition."

"I feel tired. So..."

"I understand. It was not our intention to wake you up."

Kusanagi gently said to Anna, who said a few words and moved her shoulders. Anna smiled at Kusanagi's light mouth, trying to respond to Kusanagi's concern.

Anna is a member of the Red Clan, but was previously a Strain. She is also a very special person with excellent sensitivity.

However, being a good talent does not necessarily mean that she is lucky for a girl like Anna. Fortunately, she grew up blessed with the adults around her, but for a time she was still closed to her surroundings. She is still not good at speaking and does not have many words.

As Anna reached over and sat down on the counter, Totsuka looked at Kusanagi with a hint of gaze. Kusanagi immediately understood and laughed, "Of course, I know."

"Well, Anna was the first to notice the 'Blue King', right? So I hurriedly looked for him."

"What? That was Anna, it was a credit."

Looking at Anna while Totsuka was impressed, the girl turned slightly. She seems to be shy.

In fact, it was Anna who became the key person in "a certain incident" that led to the dissolution of "Scepter 4". She has a slight connection to "Scepter 4" and the "Blue King." And it's never a funny memory.

However, the incident was the one that caused Anna to join the Red Clan, and she has since moved with Suoh. Thanks to that, Suoh, Kusanagi, Totsuka, and other members love her, and her personality, which tended to crash, is improving.

While the incident itself is not a funny memory, it is an important milestone in her life and, above all, a past event that is now over. Even though a new "Blue King" had been born, she no longer seemed upset.

Even though she is a girl, Anna is growing every day because she is a child.

"Yes, Anna. Are you interested in King's Obon dance?"

"Idiot. Don't even tell Anna there is such thing."

"No, I think Anna looks good in a yukata, right?"

“So even if you don't bother planning an Obon dance, if you take her to some summer festival, that's fine. Anna, would you like to go out on a cool afternoon?"

Kusanagi proposes to go out to Anna while giving Totsuka a hint that he was wrong.

However, the girl's reaction was more serious than the tension of the two adults.

"Mikoto... he was screaming at dawn."

She said it painfully.

Kusanagi and Totsuka involuntarily clutched their mouths and exchanged piercing glances.

Anna has few words, but she pays more attention to the words she says and puts her heart into them. It resonates in the heart of the listener.

"No, I don't think I have a nightmare every day."

"Even in the last conflict with the mob, there seemed to be a lot of outrage."

"Oh, I told you."

"We can understand King's suffering, but we cannot realize it."

Suffering from having too much power. In reality, few people can experience such a thing. Suoh's suffering is the "King's" suffering. There can be no true understanding unless you are in the same position.

"Oh, wow."

Kusanagi laughs. Totsuka and Anna turned to Kusanagi.

"They look like each other."

Just as the hardships of his vassals are known only to his vassals, so is the loneliness of the "King".

So the only way to treat yourself is to respect and be considerate of the other.

“If he's a new king or clan, what happens? Well, at least I don't have to worry about monthly sales, and that's enough."

Kusanagi said that, and started setting up the bar again. Totsuka and Anna looked at each other and smiled out of nowhere.

[foximator-blog]

I said I had redesigns of robot masters, and boy do I have them. First I'll show off the MM1/powered up bois.

Cut Man

Innocent and childlike, Cut man is the third robot designed by Thomas Light. He is a timber cutting robot, built with extremely sharp scissors that effortlessly cut through trees. Cut man is actually very gentle and loves telling jokes... when not cutting down trees, he is often planting new saplings, gardening, practicing Kirigami, or taking care of his pet bonsai tree, "Woody". Wily was very interested in Cut man's jumping ability, and the mad doctor wasted no time stealing and brain washing the poor boi. Because he is mentally the youngest, the others can be fairly protective of him, and he loves hanging out with his older siblings Rock and Roll. His Element is life, due to his efficiency in forested areas and his love of plant care. His weakness is Super arm, since rock beats scissors... and he happens to be the lightest.

Guts Man

Guts man is mentally the oldest of the first group, and is like the wise older brother. Being a heavy duty construction robot, he has a good work ethic and a very strict schedule. He's also very adamant about workplace safety, and disapproves of horseplay on the job. Wily was absolutely marveled by Guts Man's god-like strength, and even after kidnapping the hulking robot once, he's continued to create machines in Guts Man's likeness, and even weaponized a replica of Guts Man built for display in the robot museum. The doctor's obsession makes Guts Man himself very uncomfortable. When Guts Man is not working, he loves to relax by singing karaoke, or sharing a drink with his good buddy Stone Man, who had become a stone mason after leaving Wily's army. Guts man is a powerful Earth elemental, though moving the Earth becomes tricky when time is slowed, making the Time Attack his weakness. Not only is time slowed, but laser clock hands pierce through his armor.

Ice Man

Built for arctic exploration and cold storage work, Ice man is an expert on all things cold. This young minded individual is very confident in his abilities and loves his job. Wily was fascinated by his Ice breath, this Light had installed to keep things cool in cold storage, so after Ice man was kidnapped and brain washed, Wily weaponized it into the Ice Slasher, a blade of frozen mist that freezes it's target solid on contact. Ice Man loves ice sculpting and exploring wintery wonderlands, but he dislikes summer and anything related to heat. Naturally this makes him a rival to Heat man. Ice Man's armor does have better heat and cold resistance than most robots, but it certainly isn't blast proof, leading to a weakness to Hyper bomb. His Element is Water.

Bomb Man

Bomb Man is a demolition expert who loves to party and have fun. His natural affinity for partying and playing around does sometimes earn dirty looks from Guts Man, but Bomb always gets the job done in record time, he's not completely careless. Being a bomb robot, it's no surprise Wily would want to kidnap him. He loves loud music and fireworks, and is always down for a game of bowling. He's a cool dude to be around, so long as you don't diss his Mohawk. He takes pride in his Mohawk and absolutely hates haircuts. Speaking of which, his bombs are quite easy to diffuse, which is why his weakness is the Rolling cutter. His Element is Tech.

Fire Man

A robot made for waste incineration. It's not a glamorous job, but he doesn't mind. Fire man is a really cool brother who's very passionate about living his life and bringing smiles to people's faces. Even Ice man, who usually hates the heat, can't help but smile whenever Fire man is around. Though Wily could care less about all that and he only wanted Fire man to cause destruction with his flames, which can reach alarming temperatures. Fire man loves the summer time and helping others, but if Wily attacks he will not hesitate to burn those who threaten the innocent to a crisp. His weakness is the Ice Slasher, which makes sense as it could freeze his head vent shut and cause slight malfunctions. His Element is quite obvious.

Elec Man

Stylish and a bit self centered from time to time, Elec man was built to manage the electrical output of a nuclear power plant, and his quick movement speeds serve him well in this profession. He may be admiring his reflection or playing his guitar one minute, but as soon as he's needed, he's quick to action. Wily took great interest in his speed, and was quick to steal him. Elec man loves the immense Light element energy he's able to harness, and as such he has a disdain for rubber, wood, or anything else that can insulate an electric charge, including Oil slider, his weakness.

Oil Man

This slick talking wise cracking robot was built for managing all things oil related, including the cleaning of oil spills and the upkeep of an oil rig. He's a bit of a joker who loves puns, and he loves the art of comedy, to the point he gets upset if he slips up on a really good joke. Wily loves to cause pollution, and also loves stealing resources for himself, so he kidnapped and brain washed Oil man for both of these tasks. Oil man loves keeping things clean, but he can't understand why Bubble man still hates him. Fire storm is an obvious weakness, though his element is Undead... in reference to oil being a fossil fuel and a pollutant.

Time Man

Time man is an experimental robot aiding in the study of Time travel, and because of this he often feels depressed or snappy due to his inferiority complex. Wily was so intrigued by a robot who could manipulate the flow of Time, so he most certainly kidnapped and brain washed Time man. Whenever Time man is extremely stressed, he finds comfort in his collection of clocks and wind up toys... Though Flash man has also become a good friend of his. His ability to manipulate time with purple energy lands him as a Magic type, and his weakness to Thunder beam stems from his complex circuitry shutting down from the immense voltage.

Bonus: Nega Man (Mega Man?)

Doctor Wily's first robot master ever created, made solely to fight Mega man and steal his identity, though the crude design and purple scarf are dead giveaways. Nega lacks the ability to turn his buster arm into a hand, and has to have weapons preinstalled due to a lack of copy ability, which at this point is strictly one of Xavier's inventions. Nega Man wants very badly to be the real Mega man, to the point it's an unhealthy obsession.

[arcadian-legacies]

MALEFOR PROFILE

THE BASICS FULL NAME: Malefor the Umbral Lord TRUE NAME: Malen ALIASES/TITLES: The Dark Master, The First Purple Dragon, The Embodiment of Hatred and Despair AGE: 1000+ GENDER: Male PLACE OF BIRTH: the Original City of Warfang DATE OF BIRTH: 10 / 8 STAR SIGN: Scorpio SPECIES/RACE: Purple Dragon OCCUPATION: Dark Lord, Fallen Hero STATUS: Exists as a demonic spirit PHYSICAL APPEARANCE HEIGHT: 11'6" (default height) WEIGHT: N/A EYE COLOR: Yellow CLOTHING: N/A ACCESSORIES: N/A FEATURES: Reptilian FIGHTING WEAPONS: His claws and horns SKILLS: Superhuman Physical Characteristics (Strength, Stamina, Durability etc.), Dark Magic, Elemental Breaths (Of the Fire, Lightning, Ice and Earth varieties), Time Manipulation (In the form of slowing time), some degree of Clairvoyance (if Spyro has this power, surely Malefor would too) Aether Manipulation (Can also be used to heal himself and open portals to other dimensions), Dark Side Manifestation ABILITIES: Knows how to speak English/Common, Draconic, and Demon LAST RESORT: N/A STRENGTHS/FEATS: Most likely possessing the Destroyer. WEAKNESSES: His arrogance, this can often lead to his downfall. RELATIONS/CONNECTIONS FOLLOWERS: Gnasty Gnorc and The Sorceress HERALD: His Army of Apes UNDERLINGS: Lord Gaul ALLIES/FRIENDS (As much as such a being can even have allies): Ganondorf Dragmire, Giygas, Kefka Palazzo, Exdeath, the Villain League, Sephiroth AMBIGUOUS RELATIONS: Lucien TEETH-CLENCHED TEAMWORK: Ripto ENEMIES: Asides from existence in general? Cynder and Hex, Sir Percival, the Infernox Order, Link, Mario, Sonic, Ratchet and Clank, Jak and Daxter, Ruby Rose, Wanda Maximoff, Sylvie, Dr. Strange, Kang the Conqueror, Thanos, Thor, Loki, Carol Danvers, Infinite Ultron, Vision, Tiberius (his own father), Stephen Rogers, Tony Stark, Dracula, Ru, Ali, Rivet, Ephi EVIL COUNTERPART TO: Spyro the Dragon, and arguably Draco INTERESTED IN: Using his own allies to benefit him. OTHER INFO LIKES: Power, his own noble goal of cleansing the world, breaking the strongest heroic wills, himself, causing destruction on a global scale DISLIKES: His father who once oppressed and ostracized him for being weak, the Ancestors, Spyro, Cynder, people singing that melody, being reminded of his rough childhood GOALS: To destroy the world, and maybe have someone understand him FEARS: Being defeated by the next Purple Dragon. HISTORY & BIO Born in ancient times, Malefor was the first purple dragon, and a talented one at that. He first mastered the element of Fire, despite not being a fire dragon, and then harnessed the powers of Ice, Wind, Earth, Electricity, and many other elements none thought existed. Thus, Malefor was the first dragon to be able to use more than one element, which other Dragons were restricted to only one. Believing Malefor to be the shining hope of Dragonkind and the one to usher them into a new age, the Dragon Elders willingly taught Malefor how to master these elements. However as time went by, Malefor became arrogant and over-confident, and his power and knowledge grew far beyond what was expected, as did his lust for power. Fearing his lack of restraint, the Elders banished him to exile. It's eventually revealed by Chronicler to Spyro and his friends that Malefor wasn't the first Purple Dragon after all, there were 7 others before him, including Tiberius and Lucien. It was a falcy and Hora had come clean about everything. He was originally a small and sickly purple dragon with mommy issues and a crippling need to overcompensate for them, Malen had the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders, given to him by the 4 Guardians. But he was pressured endlessly to do better and get stronger by them, in the end he snapped and ran away. Eventually he came into contact with Lucien the Dark, and Lucien offered him power and revenge in exchange for the Guardian's souls. Later on Malen rebranded himself "Malefor" and led an attack on the Dragon Realms. Malefor desired revenge on everyone who ever wronged him, the Guardians, his father, and his rival Brutus. Eventually, Malefor was defeated by the Ancestors and confined within the Well of Souls. While his spirit was imprisoned in the Mountain of Malefor, his essence was trapped in Convexity. He sought to escape the mountain he had created, and while Malefor manipulated a plan to do so, his army was still able to carry out his orders. After being nearly destroyed by the Ancestors a second time, Malefor focused his hate on Spyro and Cynder. At the cost of his physical body withering away, he became more powerful and destructive. This marked the beginning of the end for Malefor's sanity. He had become an entity of pure, unfathomable evil, he gets along well with those who are Made of Evil and Destroyers. Kefka Palazzo seems to associate with the being, as they both share something in common, a broken heart. He also respects Ganondorf and Giygas's formidable powers, and their tragic pasts he understands well. Because he was driven mad by his conflicting feelings of love, for his mother Gloria and having become an entity of evil, Malefor naturally feels somewhat threatened by the House of Love and Affection and those like Queen Mary and Mara. However, even though he’s weak to these, it’ll still take a hell of a lot of power to put him down as Spyro’s holy magic demonstrated. And due to how powerful he is, he poses a massive threat to the Avengers and Enchanters even without his sanity. The Apes are aware of this and some of them even both thanked and mocked Lucien and Agatha for removing Spyro’s power, and therefore one of the most dangerous obstacles that could have posed a threat to their master, even telling them to “keep up the good work for Lord Malefor.” Singing a certain Twinkle Twinkle lullaby or saying the name “Gloria" around Malefor is NOT a good idea. When Trainer Glora ascended, he lost his shit upon learning of the news and tried to break free from the Well of Soul by his own power to find her and destroy her. This has earned him enemies in Trainer Red and Trained Gold, but given his current state, he didn’t care too much. Due to being a fellow dragon Ephi has apparently taken an interest in "purifying" Malefor into a state similar to hers. Most other residents of the multiverse have had to fight to keep them apart, as the concept of a mentally restored Malefor is enough to give them nightmares. For aid in getting around this, she has enlisted the help of the Apes and the rest of Malefor’s forces, making both parties far more dangerous. Will she succeed in bringing back Malefor into a state of harmony, who knows?? Is also blacklisted by the Infernox Order, the SCP Foundation and the TVA for being a dragon from another world, especially since he wants to destroy the world. However, they already have enough problems with Malefor’s forces alone and would likely get smashed by the Dark Master himself with no effort whatsoever. They know this and plan on destroying him anyway. However, given how much he outclasses them, all this plan can ever be is but a dream.

@astral-muses @royalstarshinedjewel @villains4hire @the-purple-hero @trondopeacekeeper @strcngered

[jadienjaystoriesandart]

So I had a thought of Wilbur and Nikki singing Nothing Left to Lose from Tangled. And my brain went ‘YES’, then I wrote this.

Wilbur's eyes were sad as he looked at Nikki sadly, since coming 'back' as a more formed spirit he watched her spiral. It was very much like his own, "Nikki, you're angry, I get it." he told her. "Believe me I know what it's like, but you're making a mistake." he pleaded to her.

Her back was to him as Wilbur looked at her, "The path of hate is a dangerous track. You take one step and it's hard to turn back." he hugged his arm tightly, "It pulls you along, and though it seems wrong, it feels right." The feeling he remembered was addictive, it's no wonder his dad and Techno kept letting their voices have their way. The shots of praise spurred you to the path of destruction and isolation. 

"Don't you see this path you're on leaves a permanent mark? It feels good at first, then it slowly turns dark." Wilbur walked over to her as she glared at him. "With each passing day, you're further astray from the light." 

Wilbur grimaced at that as he shook his head, "Suddenly, you lose your way and lose the thread." he said earnestly as he remembers losing L'manburge, the devastation he felt.  "Lose your cool, then lose your head," he remembered lashing out at Tommy and manipulating the boy he called 'brother'.  Wilbur remembers after the first time the explosion failed, "Every loss is harder to excuse."

He approached Dream wanting to explore the city, agreeing to be his Vassal in a state of manic insanity. "Then you'll see you'll lose your faith and lose your soul!"  Wilbur gripped his head as he remembers the spiral of thinking there was a traitor, blaming and not trusting anyone around him! "Til you lose complete control!" the button room, the pure hopelessness he felt when he begged Phil to kill him. 

"Then realize there nothing left to lose!" Wilbur looked at Nikki in desperation as she seemed to be listening, with the frown on her face and swirl of emotions on her eyes. "Nothing left to lose!"

Reaching out and gripping her shoulder he looked at her with pleading brown eyes, "Nikki, trust me, becoming the villain isn't the-" He was cut off by her yanking away, "Is that what you think I am!?" she asked in an incredulous and disgusted tone.

Nikki walked away from him, gripping her sword, "The path I'm on is a path paved in black. I'm taking that road and I'm not looking back." she said firmly to Wilbur as he gritted her teeth.  She blamed them all for it, Tommy always caused the problem, he always got away with it. "Each twist and each turn leads straight where I'm yearning to go." 

Shaking her head, Nikki turned away with a scowl. Why did people have to be so violent!? Why couldn't there be peace, and the way she saw it so long as that kid lived, there never would be. "Yes, it's true, my path is dark but I see where it ends. My rivals will fall as my power ascends."

Tommy caused the problems, he made Wilbur go insane, it was him turning on Techno that caused L'manburge to be destroyed. Why couldn't anyone else see that? Why did they insist on defending him? If they just got rid of him, it'd go back to normal! Jack agreed with her! "Despise me, that's fine. I'm taking what's mine even so." she waved her arm at him in finality and glared at Wilbur, "Not like you!"  she declared to him.

"You lost your nerve, you lost the game!" Nikki pointed at him, anger on her face. "But you and I, we're not the same!" Nikki put a hand on her chest, "I'm not lost, this fate was mine to chose!" she said with her chin held higher as Wilbur gave her a look full of pity.  "So I chose to lose my doubts and lose my chains! Lose each weakness that remains!" Nikki's eyes burn with a cold, fire passion as she bared her teeth. "Now that I have nothing left to lose!"

Turning away from Wilbur she gripped her hilt tighter, "Nothing left to lose!" she declared with finality.

Gripping her sword wrist, Wilbur looked at her with hurt brown eyes. "You have so much to hold onto!" he told her in a pleading tone. Nikki yanked her arm away with a scowl, "I only want, my rightful dues!" she told him pushing him away. 

Wilbur shook his head as he got to his feet and met her stare, "Listen please!" he cried out, "You've lost your grip, and lost your mind!" Nikki shook her head, "I’m not gonna lose!" she said over him He reached out to her, "All's not lost, don't be so blind!" he told her, his tone begging by this point. 

She gripped her head, "I refuse!" she declared to him, though it came out weak. Wilbur gripped her wrists, "Cut your losses, drop the IOU's!" he told her. She yanked away from him with a sneer, "I Refuse!" she said stronger this time.

"Choose!" Wilbur told her with large brown eyes.

Nikki loomed over Wilbur with an angry, and a twisted scowl on her face, "I lose no tears and lose no sleep! What I want I'll take and keep!" she yelled at him. Wilbur backed away with wide eyes, "It's time for you to choose!" he told her, as she matched his stare

The two gazed at each other saying at the same time, "You can't stop the turning on the screws!"

Nikki turned away as she scowled, "You're just another hallucination, I know what I want Wilbur. And nothing will stop me, not even you." she said softly. And with a slash of the purple and black sword, she vanished his spirit as he called out to her as he vanished.

With a shaky breath, she closed her eyes, some tears falling down. "Now... I have.." she walked away brushing away the tears, "Nothing left..."

Gazing at the red morning sky, "To lose..."

[annes-andromeda]

Game of Virtues: The Nine Rings

It’s been a while since I’ve posted anything GOT related. Want to add more variety instead of posting solely Marvel. So I’m making this post to explain the rings of the nine great houses of Westeros and the virtues themselves

Also yes I’m posting this again cause no one saw it. So, take two

The Orphics, commonly known as The Virtues, are the different powers held by the nine great houses. They get passed down to the eldest of each family and if that member dies, the virtue gets passed again to the oldest, and so on and so forth.

There are rituals to have the powers be taken and given to someone outside the family, but they are often dangerous, difficult to perform, and not without consequence.

The rings are usually just silver or gold bands, but they can change to blend into their houses, giving the illusion of a family heirloom.

While they are not the source of the holders powers, the rings work more as contracts or bonds. It is said that the Children of the Forest used their ancient magic to utter these words to connect the virtues to the rings, ensuring they’d be more contained:

Upon the forging of the servant and the binding of the master

A bargain sealed shall not falter with ease

May the power of the nine be payed with a thousand bloodlines

And chastise those who would defy the natural laws

Until the lands perish in salvation and desolation

When all that was, becomes all that is

Shall the ancient bonds be freed of their chains

Each virtue also has their own incantation that enhances its power (which I already posted). Their origins are unknown, but the most common conception is that they are not of the known world, and whose strength has been compared to the gods themselves.

People who hold an Orphic are called Mystiques. Each mystique has an aura relating to their virtue, and even family members who do not have an Orphic have virtue blood.

House Lannister

🌑The Dusk, The Virtue of Reverence, The Guardian of Dark and Shadow, and the Master of Destruction🌑

The first of the Orphics to be born, The Dusk grants the holder complete control over shadows. They can utilize darkness to camouflage their bodies and use it for combat and to manipulate matter (aka telekinesis).

Unlike the Red Priests, who use the life essence of a person to conjure Shadows, a Dusk Mystique can use shadow magic without strain if given enough practice. They can also absorb light and use it to their advantage. Along with this, they can also use dark energy, which is usually portrayed as either a solid, liquid, or gas that can be manifested in various ways.

Dusk mystiques usually start off learning shadow magic, and work their way to controlling the different types of darkness. The most powerful mystiques can use the more destructive aspects of shadows, manipulate the dark corners of the mind, induce fear into their opponents, and even utilize the dark to erase all life.

The current holders of The Dusk are Cersei and Jaime Lannister.

House Arryn

💨The Mistral: The Virtue of Wisdom, The Guardian of Air and Breath, and The Master of Winds💨

Second born of the Orphics, The Mistral can give someone the power to manipulate air. Like the Dusk and other virtues, a mistral mystique can use air to manipulate matter.

Due to not being physically seen, The Mistral is often seen as one of the weaker virtues despite being second born. However, it’s seemingly innocent appearance does not reduce its strength. Holders can enhance their breath to create strong winds, use air for combat, and amplify the strength and effects of sound.

Mistral mystiques start with learning air magic, and then move on to more complex teachings. Stronger users can manipulate gas, smoke, vapor, and hydrogen. They can also manipulate vacuums to create hurricanes and tornadoes, and even deoxygenate an area, causing their opponents to choke and suffocate.

The current holder of The Mistral is Robin Arryn.

House Martell

☀️The Dawn: The Virtue of Justice, The Guardian of Light and Celestial, and The Master of Heavens☀️

The third of the Orphics, The Dawn allows mystiques to manipulate light. The most basic ability is using light to move matter and for combat.

A common misconception is that The Dawn only allows a user to control sunlight. However, it relates to the natural element that illuminates matter. In actuality, a Dawn mystique can manipulate the entirety of the heavens to their advantage.

Unlike other holders, Dawn mystiques must learn not only light magic, but celestial magic as well to fully expand on their abilities. As they learn more, users can not only control the day and night itself, but also manipulate auroras, eclipses, and even utilize solar, lunar, and stellar energy in combat.

The current holder of The Dawn is Trystane Martell.

House Stark

❄️The Frost: The Virtue of Integrity, The Guardian of Ice and Snow, and The Master of Creation❄️

Fourth born of the Orphics, holders of The Frost utilize ice to move matter, fight in combat, and reduce the temperature of objects and areas to make them frigid.

The ice of Frost mystiques is so strong that it’s often difficult to melt, creating a permafrost. They can control dry ice, freeze anything, manipulate snow, cause frostbite, and even control cold weather to cause blizzards, hail, and freezing rain.

Frost mystiques have a complex ability to control, so they must learn three different types of magic: ice, snow, and winter. Some of the strongest users can create an eternal winter and have a presence that can bring a constant chill.

The current holder of The Frost is Robb Stark.

House Tully

🌲The Terra: The Virtue of Honor, The Guardian of Land and Stone, and The Master of Worlds🌲

The fifth of the Orphics, The Terra is one of the strongest virtues, allowing the holder to control earthen elements and use them to manipulate matter and fight in combat.

One of the more difficult of the nine to control, Terra mystiques need extreme focus in order to properly control the earth. When they do, they can manipulate different elements such as coal, dust, glass, magma, metal, minerals, sand, soil, alongside ash, bone, and more. They can also control different environments like caves, hills, mountains, plains, terrains, valleys, and even cause erosion.

First, one must learn earth magic to start off their training. Then, if strong enough, they can submerge things underground and unearth them. The most powerful can petrify their opponents, turning them into stone, while also being able to rupture the ground and manipulate the tectonic plates beneath the earth to cause earthquakes, avalanches, and shockwaves.

The current holder of The Terra is Sansa Stark.

House Tyrell

🌸The Weald: The Virtue of Benevolence, The Guardian of Flora and Fauna, and The Master of Nature🌸

Sixth born of the Orphics, The Weald allows the holder to control not only plants, but animals as well. They can use plants to manipulate matter and can manipulate, control, and absorb energy released by animals.

Thanks to their virtue, Weald mystiques have a strong connection with all fauna such as avians, aquatic life, insects, arachnids, mammals, reptiles, worms, and even monsters and parasites alongside others. They can also control different types of botany such as fruits, vegetables, algae, flowers, vines, wood, pollen, thorns, and more.

Weald mystiques first practice plant magic before moving on to the more advanced animal magic. With enough experience, they can manipulate whole forests and harvests, generate poison, and even undo the taming of animals, making them wild again.

The current holder of The Weald is Loras Tyrell.

House Greyjoy

🌊The Pura: The Virtue of Dignity, The Guardian of Water and Sea, and The Master of Oceans🌊

The seventh of the Orphics, The Pura grants the holder control over water, using it for combat and to manipulate matter. Alongside the Terra, the Pura is one of the most powerful of the virtues.

Due to water taking up more than 70% of the world, Pura mystiques must be extremely careful when using this power. But with enough experience, they can pressurize water, manipulate its flow, create tidal waves, and even control other liquids.

Pura mystiques learn water magic to enhance their abilities. When they’re experienced enough, they can manipulate lakes and rivers, create and manipulate bubbles and foam, drown their opponents in pressured water, and the most advanced can even manipulate blood.

The current holder of The Pura is Yara Greyjoy.

House Baratheon

⚡️The Tempest: The Virtue of Humility, The Guardian of Storm and Thunder, and The Master of Climate⚡️

Second to last of the Orphics, the Tempest grants its holder control over storms. Due to being more complex, mystiques can use different states of weather within their combat, but are the only holders who cannot manipulate matter.

Tempest mystiques can manipulate the weather and use it as a form of weaponry and can also manipulate thunder, clouds, thunderclouds, rain and vapor.

Holders must learn storm magic to properly control their abilities and when mastered, can grow strong enough to control varying natural disasters, electricity, and even create endless storms.

The current holder of The Tempest is Gendry Waters.

House Targaryen

🔥The Flame: The Virtue of Diligence, The Guardian of Fire and Heat, and The Master of Resurrection🔥

The last of the Orphics, the Flame allows the holder to control all aspects of fire, including using it for combat and to manipulate matter.

Despite being self explanatory, Flame mystiques are extremely powerful due to how uncontrollable fire can be if not used properly. But with knowledge, users can conjure fire strong enough to burn anything, solidify flames, cause inflammation, and induce combustion.

Flame mystiques first learn fire magic before enhancing their abilities. The most powerful can create firestorms, use fire to heal wounds, manipulate different colors of fire such as green and purple, and even be strong enough to control hellfire.

The current holder of The Flame is Jon Snow aka Aemon Targaryen.

[ellipsesarefun]

by the powers of Azarath, I beseech you.

AU where Raven and Damian meet when they were way younger during unexpected and horrifying situations. 

A/N: Was supposed to be for damirae week but it turned into something else... so... here you go...

Warnings on death and murder

NOW ON AO3

---

I only wanted to know who my father was. I didn't mean to.. I didn't mean to open the portal... I only wanted a peak.. He said I could have a peak... To see who I was inside...

Raven feels her body tremble at Trigon's fires of hell blasted through the helpless cries of Azarath's people.

He said he would spare you all.. I'm so sorry.. I didn't think..

That was right. He did say he would spare them. He said he was her father and because of that he loved her. He promised. She believed him. But alas, she realizes now that demons only play their wicked strings over children who’ve only knew the world through their elders and spellbooks.. who’ve only seen the wonders of magic with an immense curiosity.. And such curiosity can be manipulated and turn against themselves. 

Mother of Azarath, I beseech you...

“Raven..” She looks down and her eyes find the horror, and maybe morbid understanding, in her mother’s eyes. She parts her lips to call out the only remaining person in her life but not a single sound was uttered as the fires engulfed the last remains of her mother’s loving face. Raven tries again and still not a single word chokes out of her lungs. Her whole body shivered in terror. For a moment, she felt her heart tighten, as though constrained by her own fear. 

Mother of Azarath, I beg your forgiveness...

Her legs give in to the weight and she kneels, turning her head towards the sky. She notices a flash of white light shimmering through the ominous grey clouds. Maybe somewhere, there lies a paradise.. Maybe she was out of her mind but she has to take a chance..

Mother of Azarath, I beseech you.. give me strength!

She concentrates on the silver lining etched on the sky and utters.

Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos!

---

Almost there. Almost there. Almost there. 

He was barely past half of the mountain, but his small body persevered. He still has food from last night’s hunt and there’s still enough water for a day. He broke his arm along the way but it will heal soon, he says. His muscles burned against the frosty winds of the mountain and his boots sunk into the deep sea of snow but still he holds on.

This is training. This is for the League of Assassins. This is my calling. What I’m meant for.

From the day he was born, his grandfather never let him forget that Damian is an al Ghul. He was, still is, meant for something greater. That someday he can lead humanity to greatness. Ra’s al Ghul, reminded him it won’t be easy but a thousand battle scars is worth the future they envisioned for him. 

But at what cost? What worth is ruling a nation when his body is failing to accommodate the harsh winds? When the hands of death are near, biding their time till his soul plunges into the abyss? His body is meant to be a weapon. His body is destined for destruction. He’s brought into this world for a greater purpose! He must survive this! Failure isn’t an option! It never was, it never is, and it never will be. 

I must survive.. For the Demon’s Head. For the League of Assassins!

The next checkpoint is only some meters ahead. He feels his lungs explode as he tries to grasp for breath. He ignores the sting from his head and focuses on his steps, not keeping count on how many they are but on how he’s still moving. He needs to move, move, move. He must not allow himself to be so easily dispensable!

Almost...

Suddenly, everything is swirling around him that he can’t see the checkpoint straight ahead. He can’t feel the hollowness in his lungs.. 

Almost there.. Mother.. Grandfather.. Someone..

Damian falls to his knees and his body begs him to lay down, screaming in pain, and he relents, letting the snow engulf him as the last thing he sees is a flash of something white. Not the snow white, but something ethereal altogether.

An angel, perhaps?

He reaches out to the white and finds purple eyes.

And then darkness.

---

She doesn’t know how or why but white is the first thing that’s shoved onto her face. Raven lifts her head and looks around. The snow and harsh winds was all she could see going in an upward slope. 

A mountain? Why here? Where is here?

Bewildered, she pushes herself out of the snow and allows her psychic senses to scan her surroundings. This was probably one of the places where Trigon was once summoned. 

The ancestors must have worshipped him here..

She jumps when the essence of Hell tickles her skin. A portal must be close by. If she hurries now, maybe she could spare the world from her own destruction. Hell could keep her away from this place, still seemingly innocent from Trigon’s flames. 

She hears a thump on the ground and she looks down, alarmed at the site of lone boy buried in the snow. For the second time today, she kneels, sensing only a brush of life against her psychic aura. She pauses, feeling three human psychic auras close by but not close enough to reach him in time. The boy clad in battered clothes with a sword in his hand looks around her age. 

Mother of Azarath...

She doesn’t know why but she’s compelled to save this stranger. It does not atone for her failure, but at the very least, maybe she could salvage a life amongst the lives she could not protect.

She presses her hands to his icy cheeks, feeling the warmth of her magic. Her soul brushes against the barrier of his own and suddenly she receives flashes. Born by what seems to be a nation of people who kill people, this boy was raised to be their king.. their leader... such a child to be placed into such high regard... such a child to be pressured into the harsh grasps of reality at such a young age... Why would someone do that..?

By the powers of Azarath, I beseech you...

She hasn’t tried this spell but maybe there’s a chance... A small breath of hope..

And so she prays, as her magic flows throughout his veins, his organs, his soul... It envelopes him, almost like a blanket. She prays that he be free of such hardship. That he find people who would love him and care for him like his so called blood family wouldn't. She prays of a light inside his heart would shine against his corrupted soul and fly to greater pastures. 

Mother spirit of another realm, protect this stranger and give him and me the strength to face the dark force that is coming...

And then she hears a cough and a steady heartbeat. She releases her hands and watches her magic take a form of shield around his body. A figure of a raven appears on top of his head, pecking at his cheek. Her protection spell worked. For the first time, she feels her lips curve into a hopeful smile as the stranger’s eyelids gradually open, enraptured by the green pupils against the snow. 

A growl came from the distance, breaking her away from her small bubble of fascination and calmness. She stands up and without looking back, opens a portal to Hell and hurries out of the lands of Earth, leaving only a prayer.

---

Mother of Azarath, I beseech you to protect this stranger... for whatever obstacle there may be..

He doesn’t remember much of that encounter nor how he ended up at the foot of the mountain unscathed. His task is complete and has now ascended to a level higher from before. His missions have become far harsher, but not as harsh as the first kiss of death he experienced in the mountain. 

This might have been the delusion but even without her presence, he feels her energy inside him, a constant beat with his pulse. Angel or not, he thanks her for saving his life. Somehow, this won’t be last time he’ll meet her.

After all, the bonds of magic weigh far more than the bonds of blood.

[ask-fantasy-sanders-sides]

Is there a difference between half-dragon and Dragonborn? I'm struggling to figure where Dragonborns would be in relation to all of this~CS

    Yes, there is a difference! I will explain the two, but first, I will use this as an excuse to explain a bit about dragons in this world.

(explanation under the cut!)

    So, Dragons are an intelligent species of giant magical reptiles, we all know this. They live for many, many thousands of years, and experience years like we would experience days, awake for a decade or so causing total carnage and terror, then sleeping for decades on end. There are good ones and there are bad ones, and you can tell their power set and roughly how they are going to act based on their coloration. Additionally, all dragons can take a Human form, and switch between it and their dragon form at will. 

       The ‘bad’ dragons (ones that typically like to eat people, destroy villages, steal gold, very greedy and mean, etc) are the Chromatic Dragons, which come in five breeds - Red, Blue, Green, White, and Black(though black dragons are really just an incredibly over-saturated dark purple, that lightens to a vibrant purple as they age). These are the only ones that will appear in this story, so they’re the ones I’ll talk about. 

       In order of strength, from strongest+smartest to weakest+dumbest: 

Red dragons are prideful, malicious, and violent. They breathe fire, and fire does not harm them. They enjoy cruelty and destruction, watching villages burn and towers crumble.

Blue dragons are orderly, cowardly, and tactical. They breathe lightning, and lightning does not harm them. They enjoy mocking lesser races, sending humanoids on wild goose chases that ended with them getting lost and dying of thirst or hunger.

Green dragons are manipulative, petty, and cunning. They breathe poisonous gas, and poison does not harm them. They enjoy lying to and corrupting humanoids, then keeping people as possessions, like living collectibles.

Black dragons are temperamental, ruthless, and cruel. They breathe acid streams, and acid does not harm them. They enjoy torturing humanoids and other ‘weak’ intelligent life.

White dragons are vengeful, feral, and glutinous. They breathe poisonous gas, and poison does not harm them. They enjoy hunting down dangerous prey, and the act of the slaughter.

     As I mentioned before, they can take humanoid forms. A Half-Dragon is what results from a dragon using this human form to mate with a humanoid race, creating something that is half dragon half something else. The resulting children are rediculously powerful, and usually retain most of the strengths of their dragon parent (the damage type immunity, breath weapon, and ability to sprout wings and fly) while retaining the humanoid size and shape. They tend to follow the same personality conventions as the color type of their dragon parentage, but they don’t always. They can look mostly like their humanoid parent race but with a small amount of dragon influence (like, for example, looking mostly like a Yuan-Ti Pureblood, but with Green Dragon scales across the side of their face. Or, looking mostly like a Yuan-Ti Malison, but with red dragon’s horns and black dragon’s scales on their hands. Just two hypothetical examples, obviously :D), or they can look like a human-shaped dragon, with wings and a tail and a reptile head. 

     Dragonborn, on the other hand, are a humanoid race that look somewhat like human-shaped dragons, and follow the same elemental power and personality conventions, but don’t have a direct connection to dragons. It is theorized that they and dragons both evolved from the same parent DNA way back in the dawn ages, but there isn’t much proof of this. Dragonborn look like humanoid dragons, with the tail and claws and stuff, but small and man-shaped. Dragonborn idolize Dragons and like to insist that they evolved from generations of inbreeding Half-Dragons, but any Dragon you ask would deny these claims; Is it because the Dragons know the truth, or because the prideful lizards can’t stand to be cousins to a lowly humanoid race? Who knows.

[greyias]

FIC: Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 10

Title: Smoke and Mirrors Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T Genre: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn Synopsis: Something’s rotten on Carrick Station, and Theron won’t rest until he finds out what. But picking at the frayed threads of suspicion quickly unravels a conspiracy much larger than even the Republic’s top spy can handle on his own. (A mostly canon-compliant retelling of the Forged Alliances storyline, as seen through the eyes of Theron Shan.) Author’s Notes and Spoilers: See Chapter 1.

Chapter Index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | Crossposted to AO3

In the end, it was a compromise. Highwind’s fancy footwork and insane strategy of playing chicken with the targeting arrays managed carry her through the second target. The third one had to be taken out the old fashioned way, though, with lightsabers and blaster fire.

The Gnarls had been reclaimed, and the Imp’s command platform neutralized. Theron was still untangling the mess the invading force had made when they’d sliced into the shield grid, but they’d managed to open up the reinforcement’s approach vectors and they were able to get troops on the ground safely now. A quick glance over at Darok and the large holotable showed him that the second wave was just starting to land.

It was just a matter of retaking the temple. Highwind was still leading the way, blazing a path through Imperials and Flesh Raider like a wildfire through dry tinder. Now that Theron had his hooks into the system, he was able to monitor their progress on a map on the terminal he’d claimed, but he was still trying to get actual eyes on them in the field. It wasn’t much but it made him feel better. More part of the mission. Rather than just being relegated to tech support.

Most of the Jedi’s security cameras had been damaged in the initial assault, but there was one flickery feed from above the temple steps. Theron leaned back, pretending to stretch out the very real kink developing between his shoulders from being hunched over the keys for so long. The entire room was lined with monitors and terminals, all the metal surfaces shined to an exquisite military polish. Perfect for observing a target while leaving them unaware.

Darok was hunched over the holotable, gaze focused on all of the dots and figures of troops and ships as well as the enemy combatants. Occasionally he’d gesture wildly as he let out a terse string of orders. He was the very image of the perfect Republic soldier, dedicated to taking back the homeworld of some of their staunchest allies while keeping his men alive. After this, someone would probably want to pin a medal on his chest.

“The Savior of Tython” — he might have to wrestle with Highwind for the title.

It was too bad it was all an act. After it had been pointed out, Theron couldn’t not see it. The sudden rush of intel and push to raid Korriban combied with the simultaneous attack on Tython. It was too much of a coincidence.

He recognized the mark of a con — the tantalizing prospect of something too good to pass up, something the target desperately wanted more than anything else. A sudden press of urgency and a ticking clock was meant to bypass normal caution, to push the target into action. It was the tactics of grifters and spies, of someone manipulating things to their own end. 

Except that the target this time was the Republic, and whoever the mastermind of this was had used him as a pawn in this game. That was their big mistake — Theron Shan was no man’s puppet. No one could pull his strings and expect him to jump. Whether Darok was the mastermind, another pawn, or just some unwitting bystander he wasn’t sure. All Theron had right now was an instinctual and instant dislike to the man. Maybe it was just Darok’s grating personality. Or maybe it was gut instinct.

Either way, a good idea to keep an eye on him. Gather the data and surveil the suspects right now and sort through the details later. There was more going on than first met the eye here — something bigger simmering under the surface. He’d find out what it was — no one played him for the fool and got away with it.

Right now though, he needed to get eyes on the other player in this game as well.

Theron finished his fake stretch, satisfied that Darok was occupied at the moment, and returned to the keys in front of him. With a few quick taps, he had patched the feed from the staticky Jedi Temple camera into the HUD on his implants. There was probably no way that the single, damaged camera could accurately convey the havoc wrought on his mother’s home, but that same sick feeling started to churn again in his gut as he got a glimpse of the smoking temple grounds. The lush green rolling hills leading up to the temple had been charred to a dull brown, and dust, dirt, and smoke had kicked up a thick haze. The practice dummies and meditation spots that had been part of the serene landscape were gone, likely buried under the rubble. From the fluttering remains of a brown robe under a large chunk of stone that had fallen from one the large looming statues of knights old — it was possible the landscape wasn’t the only thing buried under the rubble. 

He blew out a long breath, gathered his focus, and analyzed the feed beyond the destruction to try and find his team. The dramatic billowing cape and striking purple hue of the twin lightsabers made Highwind easy to pick out even with all of the smoke and rubble. He turned the audio channel from her comm back up just as she finished slicing through several droids that had rushed the group. Kira bent down to examine them, and let out an anguished sound she couldn’t completely muffle.

“Kira,” Highwind’s voice was soft, pitched low to only where her friend could hear. Not measured and even this time, but both sympathetic and gently warning. “We can’t let—”

“These were Master Dentiri’s training droids,” Kira didn’t bother to disguise the anger and sorrow rising in her voice as she stood.

“I know.” The statement was still soft, and there was a thread of a deeper emotion trying to surface. As if Highwind herself couldn’t completely tamp it all down. Theron wasn’t sure exactly what she was trying to keep restrained, but it still struck something inside of him.

“They are merely droids,” Scourge cut in, disdain dripping from his tone. “There is nothing to mourn in twisted metal.”

Teeseven let out an angry whistle protesting that statement, and Kira stepped up to the Sith. Her expression wasn’t visible from the distance, but it didn’t need to be, because her entire posture radiated an anger and rage that was supposed to be anathema to the Jedi. Theron hated it, but he had to agree somewhat with Scourge’s callous statement — at the moment he couldn’t see any significance in the reprogramming of a bunch of training droids.

“Master Dentiri would never let them be reprogrammed like this! Not while he was alive.”

Oh.

“Kira, please,” Highwind approached her friend hand held out in a complacent gesture. “It’s difficult to see all of this, I know, but we need to stay calm and focus on the present—”

It all happened in the same moment.

Highwind cut her own statement off abruptly, and Theron watched on the feed as in an instant her entire posture changed. Back straightening and head snapping up as if some invisible string had pulled at her. Her outstretched hand jutted out forcefully, fingers splaying out into an expansive gesture as both Kira and Scourge were thrown several feet apart by some unseen force. Or rather, the Force. A barely perceptible shimmer rippled across the camera feed before a long vibroblade pierced the spot where the two Force users had just been standing, wielded by a figure Theron didn’t recognize.

He tried to enhance his visual from the feed, but it was pointless. The signal from the camera was barely operating as it was. He could only watch as purple lightsaber met with vibroblade from the new combatant: a bald woman with clearly visible implants, even from the distance. If he’d had time and a clearer image he would have fed her likeness through a database. Maybe he’d get a name, or maybe not. From the woman’s fighting style, the grade of the implants, and the reprogramming of the droids — maybe an operative from whatever was left of Imperial intelligence. 

More of the reprogrammed training droids joined the fray, engaging with the rest of the strike team. Theron could only watch the battle between the distant, flickering holofigures while hearing every clash and strike over the comm. That same feeling of uselessness started to creep up again. He could add nothing to this fight, the outcome was down to the skill of his operatives on the other end. He had to trust that they’d get the job done. And not die in the process.

Theron swallowed the bitter feeling and glanced back at the nearest reflective surface. Darok was still absorbed in his portion of the battle. Perhaps even unaware of the strike team’s close call. The embers of the fire burning inside him flickered to life, that flame of anger tempering his resolve like durasteel being shaped into finely honed blade.

He turned that fervor back into something useful, delving into the sensor data as the battle continued to play out in his HUD. With each crash of the blade, hum of the lightsaber, and shriek of blaster fire, Theron pierced through more of the Imperial firewalls separating him from the Temple. He flung every new layer of data onto the terminals around him, not bothering to hide his work from Darok. Let the bastard see who he was dealing with, let him know that nothing could hide from Theron when he turned the microscope to it.

Maybe he couldn’t lend his blaster to the fight raging on the temple steps, but he could scrape every single shred of data together. Find the location of every single Sith and Imperial trooper lurking inside and obliterate any chance of further ambush. They might have razed the temple and every single Jedi within it, but they would not keep their bloodied prize. That was for damn sure.

As the battle finished, silence settled over the comm. The flickering chaotic image on the HUD had almost stilled, and if he hadn’t seen the telltale cape fluttering in the wind, Theron might have been concerned about the fate of his operative. A dark mood had settled over the strike team, and he almost felt like he was intruding, but pushed it aside. There wasn’t time for that right now.

“Are you clear?”

“We are,” she said.

While they had been fighting, he’d managed to put together a patchy map of intel from the interior of the building. Without hesitation, he funneled that data stream to his feed to Teeseven, and the little astromech faithfully projected it out in front of him.

He heard a long breath exhaled on the other end of the comm. “Is this what we’re up against inside?”

“Yes,” Theron said, perhaps a little brusquely. “No more surprises like that one.”

“There might be still a few of those awaiting us inside,” Highwind said quietly, a weary note breaking through the practiced calm. “Even with this.”

Theron was a naturally suspicious man. It was a healthy trait in his profession to finely hone paranoia into a tool of survival. Whoever the mastermind was that had orchestrated this bleak tragedy would have be someone wily and almost Machiavellian — capable of seeing the lives of the combatants on the field as pawns on a larger Dejarik board. Unwilling or even unable to view them as people. If that exacted a toll on their psyche, would it even be able to be seen?

As Highwind had stalked out of the warroom earlier, Theron had considered her role in this. Logically it was best to consider and eliminate every potential suspect. Darok was first on the list, having been the one who found the opening on Korriban and suggested the operation to Jace. He’d planned that entire mission. It was only natural to suspect him, especially considering his nearly maniacal drive to get into the Dark Council chambers.

But right after Darok came Highwind herself. Theron still couldn’t figure her out or where she fell into all of this. If she had any contact or involvement with Darok prior to this, it wasn’t indicated anywhere in her file. Of course, there had been those missing six months — anything could have happened then. Including contact with a surly SpecOps officer. Of course, that had to have meant that Darok would have somehow engineered her involvement in the operation. Could he have planted the suggestion to Jace to have a member of the Coruscant Aegis? Perhaps but… that didn’t add up. 

Theron had been the one to make the decision on the recruitment from the Aegis. If the Aegis member was the lynchpin in the plan, Darok would have to had to find some way to have each person on that list under his thumb. It was technically possible — almost anything was with his lack of intel — but that was the thing about conspiracies. They worked best by keeping people in the dark. It was the nature of secrets — the less people who knew, the less chance of being discovered. 

Besides, Darok seemed to set Highwind on edge almost as much as he did with Theron. That kind of thing could have been staged. So could have their bristling anger and standoff over the slave pens on Korriban. All of her wild heroics could have been played up for the supposedly stupid spy observing all of this. Her kind and sympathetic Jedi act could be just that — a way to throw him off the scent. Maybe she realized Theron was observing her closely and she was trying to play to his sympathies. Maybe the stoop in her shoulders as she walked up the temple steps was just an act, and maybe the glimpse of the unguarded expression on her face was also part of the show. Meant to convey the anguish and heavy toll of someone whose home had just been destroyed. That tightly wound control slipping through her fingers was something he was meant to sympathize with because it was a mirror of his own state of mind.

Anything was possible.

But as her eyes closed, he heard the heavy, deep breath she took in, and caught a quick glimmer on her cheeks that was quickly scrubbed away before those following in step behind her could see — and that hard suspicion splintered into a thousand pieces.

Whatever secrets lay in her past, whatever the source of those missing six months from her file was… it had nothing to do with this. He felt that as sure as anything. Deep down in his gut, like those sure and certain feelings the Jedi might feel from the Force. Ngani Zho used to say they were one and the same, regardless of one’s affinity for it.

Theron hesitated, before he keyed in his subvocal mic. “Hey. You all right?”

“Yes,” she said almost too quietly for even the overtuned comm unit to pick up. “I will be fine.”

If they were more than strangers, maybe this would have been the moment for him to say something comforting. Or encouraging. As her handler, all he needed to do was get her to finish the mission. Beyond that, none of this was any of his business. He was a professional. They both were. So he swallowed back whatever that feeling attempting to creep up on him was, and pulled up the sensor data.

“There’s an ambush waiting for you at the stairs. Prepare to get swarmed.”

“Okay,” she said. “We’ll be ready. After that?”

Theron blew out a breath, sorting through the stream of code to pick out the relevance of all the data. “There’s shielding around the Jedi Temple Library. They’re up to something in there.”

“The library,” she echoed softly, footfalls slowing their ascent. “A raid on the Jedi’s stores of knowledge. Just like the raid on the Sith’s.”

If there had been any lingering doubt of her being some sort of clever and dastardly mastermind, that put it to rest. Her constantly putting together the clues of the mystery unfolding before them was not exactly the work of an evil genius, just the opposite in fact. She also had a point. The coincidences were starting to stack up, and the more of them they found, the harder it was to ignore.

“I’m sending the source of the shield’s power to Teeseven,” Theron said, not acknowledging her statement aloud. Too many ears here. “You’ll have to shut it down before you can see what’s going on.”

“We will get to the bottom of this,” she promised, out loud this time as if for everyone to hear.

“Communication is going to get patchy when you get inside,” he reminded her. “So watch your back.”

“I will. Thank you, Theron,” she said, not bothering to hide her gratitude. “We couldn’t do this without you.”

She disappeared off from the view of the camera, entering into the ruined temple. An odd tightness began to settle in his chest. It was both light and smothering, and ideally, he’d be able to be alone to try and sort through whatever the feeling was. Maybe it was nerves. It was probably nerves. Too keyed up about the fate of Satele, the rest of the Jedi even, and not having eyes on his operative as she entered the most dangerous leg of the mission.

He let out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and glanced at the reflection closest to him. Then stood back in alarm from the console, abandoning all subtly as he turned to face an empty room. At some point, Darok had slipped out without Theron even noticing.

He glared at the station that the colonel had taken up residence at, considering the merits of pulling the security footage from the room. Maybe bypass a few Carrick Station safety protocols and track down the errant officer. See exactly what he was up to.

Theron didn’t have time for that. He had people on the ground, and despite the mounting suspicion over the colonel’s involvement in all of this, the safety of those in the line of fire was top priority. Once the mission was over, it was going to be Darok’s turn under the microscope. See what sort of dirty secrets were just waiting to be dug up. The truth would come out, and Theron would see justice done for every single life lost today.

No matter the cost.

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

That’s Not a Real Kiss (Telltale John Doe x Reader)

A/N: Here’s a thing nobody asked for that I’ve had on my mind literally since I created this blog. I love soft John Doe and just want him to be happy because Harley’s abusive and Bruce is a jackass; you’re welcome.

My take on the Telltale Harley Quinn/Joker dynamic is that it’s essentially a switcheroo on the regular representation of the couple, with John Doe being the unstable but more or less well-meaning pushover and Harley being the manipulative, abusive mastermind. With a side of Bruce also being kind of a dumpster fire of a character, in my opinion. I just mention this because I recently realized that this apparently isn’t the most popular take on Telltale’s Joker and a good portion of people still think he’s the main mastermind and has Harley wrapped around his finger. To each their own.

Word count: 1999 (2001 before editing; longer than what I usually write, woo)

Summary: You’ve been close friends with John for a while now, but have grown tired of his blind affections for people didn’t seem to think nearly as highly of him. During another late night of listening to him fawn over Harley and Bruce, you end up deciding to confront him--and corner yourself into confessing your own feelings for him in the process.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse (nothing too graphic), a bit of a cliffhanger? (I might make a sequel if people are interested); I started this months ago and just continued/finished it at three am this morning, so while I did edit it and al that jazz, there may still be the occasional grammar error and choppy writing. That being said, I did also try to write it in a way that felt lengthy and breathless and jumpy? I guess? In hopes of portraying how the reader was feeling and the way their brain was buzzing out of nervousness. Lemme know how I did.

Like what I do? Leave me a tip!

~~~~~

You sat crouched against the wall of John Doe’s scrappy home within the warehouse hideout of the criminal group he’d decided to attach himself to, a scowl etched into your features as you watched him flamboyantly pace around. Seeing him so happy would normally make you happy too, and if he wasn’t talking about the two most manipulative people in his life like they were gods, you would have been. Unfortunately, though, Harley and Bruce were the ones bringing that adorable grin to his face, so you sat unenthusiastically nursing the drink John had provided and stewing in a mental pool of God, I wish that were me.

Then, against your better judgement, you decided to do something about it.

“Hey, Johnny.” You placed your drink down with a hard clink against the concrete floor and glanced up at the man, who had stopped his affectionate rambling with an embarrassed grin; god, you loved that grin. Most people found it unnerving, saying that paired with his paper pale skin it made John look like the living dead--or a clown if they were a crackhead. You, however, found it fitting for him, a strangely cute smile for a strangely cute man. You just wished you were the cause of it more often.

You also wished that what you were going to say wouldn’t result in an argument but you knew it probably would anyway. Shaking aside your butterfly-stirring thoughts and grumbling--partially in case Harley or her criminal buddies were still wandering around the warehouse at this hour, mainly because you’d almost immediately lost all the confidence you had about five seconds ago--you repeated, “Hey, Johnny--”

“Hey, [Y/N/N],” John chirped back, relaxing enough to take a seat on an overturned crate across from you. Curiosity and a bit of confusion sparkled in his green-gray eyes, and his head was tilted slightly to the side. He looked like a puppy; a sweet, dorky, green-haired, white-skinned, horribly lost puppy. One of those pretty soft eyes was still purple-black and partially swollen shut, a punishment from Harley Quinn herself after John had gotten a little too excited and caused a mission earlier today to turn sour. Better than getting a bullet through the eye instead, though that thought didn’t make you feel much better about it.

Still, he smiled, shining like a ray of sun in the dark chaos that was Gotham these days. Still, he fawned over Harley and treated her like a queen. 

The idea of it made you want to hurl. You could almost feel the frown lines etching themselves into your skin. 

“Why do you like either of them?” you blurted, louder than you had meant to and apparently cutting John off from speaking at the same time; his lips had parted and one of his hands had risen just as words were pouring from your own mouth.

John’s response was a blink, then a chuckle, then that rubbing of the back of his neck that he did when he was flustered. He’d blush if he could, but he couldn’t so he started talking instead. “Well, as I was saying--”

You winced at the slow way he’d said ‘saying,’ like he was annoyed that you’d prevented him from continuing his love-struck rant about a couple of bullies. “You know what I mean, John. I don’t want you to go off on another tangent. We’ve talked about this before.”

It’s true. Despite your unwillingness, this wasn’t the first time you’d gotten enough courage to call John out on his self-destructive bullshit. You’d initially joined The Pact because you had had nowhere else to go at the time, a Gotham newbie with no money but with an attitude and a penchant for eavesdropping and minor pickpocketing--the key was to return the wallet from the person you’d taken it from, acting like they’d dropped it during you bumping into them; everyone in Gotham was too busy to check if anything was missing right then, and you were bland enough in appearance to have basically disappeared and been forgotten by the time they’d noticed. Sometimes, if you were lucky, you might even be mistaken for a homeless ragamuffin and given more money than what you stole from a particularly sympathetic victim.

By the time you’d impressed Harley enough to join her squad of crazy, saving you from sleeping at bus stops and bathing in sinks at gas stations, John Doe was showing up with his friend. His friend Bruce Wayne, AKA Batman--it wasn’t difficult to figure out who the man behind the mask was, if you were really looking; the fact was that no one in Gotham really wanted to ruin the illusion--who you soon realized wasn’t really a friend at all. Like Harley, Bruce used John as pawn at every turn, and you, who had made friends with the lively man pretty easily, couldn’t stand it; you’d quickly learned that John was brilliantly clever, entertaining, had a very intriguing set of gray morals, and was almost completely unaware of the poor treatment he was receiving. After a few weeks of enduring the irritation of watching two mightier-than-thou Gothamites treating your friend like a doormat with the intelligence of a box of rocks, and in some cases saving him from and nursing him back to health after suffering Harley’s wrath, you decided to put on your adult pants and deal with the problem head on: showing John what he was avoiding seeing and hoping to whatever being of high power that he believed you.

At some point among the many high-energy, zany moments you’d experienced with John, but more likely during one of the few gentler, more caring ones, you had caught feelings for the bizarre but lovely man. This realization had you further searching for shooting stars, tossing pennies into fountains, praying, doing whatever else you thought may help every time you every time you considered talking with him about his toxic loved ones. Silently begging that he wouldn’t get so upset with you that he’d decide to completely cut ties with you, or worse--tell Harley what you’d been trying to do, most likely resulting in your corpse being thrown off a Gotham pier. 

Now John sat across from you, his long-fingered hands fiddling with each other and his purple-shoed foot tapping and his pale gaze shifting to look anywhere but at you as he considered what to say. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out how to explain his love for an abuser and a manipulator without losing the one person who never seemed to grow tired of him.

“[Y/N],” he finally drawled, hesitant, then with a chuckle, “I know you don’t like them but they’re great guys, really; you just need to give them a chance. Harls? She can be real sweet, as long as you stay on her good side and do what she says. And Bruce! Sure, he’s a little grumbly around the edges but--”

“John,” you cried softly, desperately, and rose to your feet. In a few steps you were right in front of him, kneeling and gently pressing a hand to the side of his face that was still bruised. Your face was twisted in pain, none felt for yourself, as you brushed a hand over the surprisingly cool but still puffy skin under his black eye; you looked directly into it, a half moon of silvery green almost hidden by purple flesh, as you continued, “Bruce is a rich boy with a hero complex doing whatever he needs to do and screwing over people he doesn’t think matters in order to finish a mission. Harley Quinn is a menace. She would have smashed your head in if I hadn’t distracted her with new mission plans; that wasn’t even twenty-four hours ago! The bruises from her almost strangling you because you went out to the carnival with me without telling her are just now beginning to fade. I didn’t get a punishment like that, and you know why? Because she thinks I’m useful and she thinks you’re a toy that she can play with and then throw away whenever she wants. She knows you worship the ground she walks on, but I’ve seen you noticing that you don’t deserve the treatment she’s dealing out. People who love you don’t treat you like that, John. Bruce and Harley don’t care about you. They don’t love you. They’re not even your friends.”

Emotionally exhausted and scared that you had crossed a line you shouldn’t have, you ended your speech with a slow breath. You took a moment to look away, shake off the feeling of your eyes burning. You only looked back at John when you felt his cold hand on yours, felt his face lean into your warm palm.

The green-ette who was all limbs and jawline--he looked more like a deer in headlights than a curious puppy now--was watching you, his eyes wide and conflicted. He seemed to be struggling to say something again; you could feel his hands quivering and see him chewing the inside of his cheek in thought. Then he blinked, pressed his cheek more securely into your hand, and asked in the quietest voice you’ve ever heard him use, “Do you?”

You grew more flustered and confused the longer the moment stretched on, and it was your turn to tilt your head slightly. “Do I…?”

“You said they don’t love me,” John clarified, and you felt your mouth go dry. “You said people who love me don’t treat me like that. You’ve never treated me like that.” 

Attempting to bring moisture back to your mouth in order to protest, to deny the truths John was claiming, only resulted in what you assumed was pretty unattractive grumble and cough. Not that you thought John would care; you knew he wouldn’t. You did, however, realize that talking was futile, so you took a moment to think of the next best thing. Just as John began to start a new thought again, just as doubt began to blossom in his eyes, you decided to throw all caution to the wind and kiss him.

A small kiss. A very slight brush of the lips. And not on his lips, but right in the center of his forehead.

There was a moment of silence, another excruciatingly long one that briefly made you feel like you were having a heart attack, until you felt the brush of eyelashes on your jaw when John blinked once again.

“That’s not a real kiss.”

You could help bark a short laugh at the pouty tone your friend’s--friend?--voice had. You began to sit back on your heels, apologizing more about the fact that you had kissed John at all than because he’d considered the kiss ‘fake.’ Before you could pull away fully, however, you felt chilly hands make their way from your arm to your shoulder, then to your neck and jaw, pulling you closer. You hadn’t noticed that you had closed your eyes until you opened them again, and then inhaled sharply. You saw the look on John’s face, something new and breathtaking and lacking any of the sadness or doubt that was usually there lately, and smelled a faint cologne all around you--did he always wear that?--and finally felt his breath on your lips when he spoke again. 

“It’s okay,” he said, responding to your apology. Pulling you ever closer--you could brush noses and lips now, and even though you felt your eyes flutter shut again but could still see that face behind your lids--he continued, “I’ll do it.”

You weren’t sure, as John’s lips met yours, where this kiss would take you or where the man’s thoughts were at. All you did know was that your doubts of having a chance with John flew right out the window at you leaned into his touch, and that if Harley wanted a fight for him, you’d give her a war.