#displays of strength and his hunting prowess

[masteri-0]

Just had a sudden thought of Dragon!Shen Yuan (or any creature really) AU, where it was like a normal rite of passage for parents to raise their young (protectively, they're not jerks, just uh, very unsafe for human children, or just humans in general...), then throw them into some sort of extreme trial to prove their strength, when they're deemed ready. Oh, and it was normal, expected, even, to take a go at your parents and try to murder them as a proof of superiority, or smt like that. Doesn't mean they don't love each other! Dragons just have a different way of showing care, that's all. What's a lil play fighting?

Anyw, main point is, SY transmigrates into SQQ with this mentality. Sees his cute little sheep. Falls in love instantly and adopts him. But oh! Oh, the protagonist is so weak, so malnourished! He's gonna nurture him and make sure he's well taken care of! Such a scrawny little sheep can't possibly survive anything! Oh? What's that? He has to push the scrawny baby into the abyss? Well! Makes sense, but that's years into the future, and he has time to make sure they grow up big and strong yet! Cue all the canonical pampering.

I'd imagine during LBH's disciple days, he receives a lot more comments about him going out into the world, and there's less matchmaking from Shizun, since SY believes that girls will flock naturally to him if he's strong enough, so there's also more emphasis on his training, as well as the training of other disciples on the peak. I'm not sure how he'll react to Bai Zhan disciples. Does he comment on their strength and set off the QJP disciples, causing an interpeak war? Does he still hold the same annoyance for them and property damage?

By the time the IAC rolls around, SQQ has already sent his not so little white sheep all over to gain experience, and deemed him ready for his 'coming of age' (close to human adulthood too, he'll do fineee). There is far less tears and hesitation. When the time comes and LBH's seal is broken, SQQ feels the increase in power and the last of his worry dissipates. He basically just looks at his kid, nods, and chucks him in. Dusts off his hands and pats himself on the back. One child down, however many more to go. Oh, they grow up so fast... (Was LBH freaking out during this? Oh well, must be the nerves, he knew the feeling well. But he's read the book and knows what's going to happen. His kid will be okay, and he'll naturally gain confidence after surviving in there!... No one ever said dragons were GOOD at feelings ...)

Of course, it takes some time to adjust to the absence, but there's less grieving and freaking out over his impending doom. Sure, he's judging the original work a little. Limbless and hanging, really? SY much prefers a clean death, thank you. (How he died in his previous life is up to interpretation). But that's besides the point, his favourite is off on his trial, and it's about time to test a few of his other kiddos too (single dad to, uh, how many?)

Shen Qingqiu gains reputation as a sadistic (?) teacher that puts his disciples through dangerous missions seemingly without care, but unlike in the past, he seems to love the kids and dotes on them off-missions, so no one's really sure what's going on with... That. (He's still waiting for one of them, any of them, to try and kill him? Where's the bonding?? Was he not doing enough???)

So when LBH returns, things go uh, differently. SQQ is just here, waiting in anticipation, appreciating how his kid's all grown up, and seeing the scheme to unfold. Safe to say, people are confused. (Him, especially. What do you mean, his kid isn't trying to kill him?? Really, where did he go so wrong in parenting? None of his kids want to bond with him the proper way!!)

(I imagine SY being a better fighter than in canon due to literal trial of fire as a dragonet, and I'm not sure if he would've gotten hit with without a cure at all during the invasion in consideration of this)

[tildeathiwillwrite]

hello hi regarding "Tales from Valaria" can you tell me about the magic worldbuilding a bit? Is it like high fantasy with wizards or what is happening here?

(in reference to this post)

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

It hasn't really been established in either of the posted chapters of The Watcher and the Thief nor in the first chapter of The Hunter, the Myth and the Cure, bc to be honest any magic system shit shown thus far has been Spiders Georg-level of outlieriness.

The main magic system on Valaria uses runes, and is referred to as rune-writing, its users called magicians. Magicians write runes using ink or blood, and often link multiple together to achieve the desired effect.

Magicians have traditionally always been women, either formerly taught in one of the universities or apprenticed under an experienced mentor. Humans have the highest aptitude for rune-writing, with a rare elf displaying the talent.

Draigo cannot rune-write, and runes have no effect on them. They have been known to use weapons and tools engraved with runes, but most prefer to rely on their own innate abilities. Because of this immunity, the Draigo are typically the ones to deal with rogue magicians and rune-speakers.

Rune-speakers, informally called Stalkers, are magicians who discovered the superior power of speaking or singing runes over writing them. Stalkers also possess the runes of stealing magical aptitude from other magicians, growing their own powers and increasing the strength of their runes. The rush of power taken is described as intoxicating, and all Stalkers dedicate themselves to the hunt for more magic and power. Rune-speaking is not taught anywhere except by other rune-speakers, who must operate in secret due to the looming threat of the Draigo.

The villains in The Watcher and the Thief and Magician's Bait are both Stalkers. Their methods differ, but their goals are alike.

Magicians are known to carve runes into many a weapon or tool, usually for personal use but they have been hired in the past to empower weapons for those who cannot write the runes themselves. The practice has in recent times been restricted, with many such objects stored away in the Draigo archives. Some artifacts have resurfaced, much to the annoyance of the Draigo Council.

The Draigo keep to themselves, responding to requests for aid from the others of Valaria with much deliberation. They are invulnerable to runes, both written and spoken, and if they have other abilities, they keep them hidden. Rune-engraved weapons are not an uncommon sight in the hands of their agents, but the skinwalkers are not known to possess them.

The skinwalkers, meanwhile, are solely agents of the Draigo, serving as messengers, assassins, escorts and spies among the humans and elves. Like the elves, all skinwalkers no matter their humanoid form are magic-resistant, the only supernatural thing about them being their ability to shift into the form of a strong beast, retaining a measure of intelligence and control. They also possess enhanced senses and strength in their humanoid forms.

The elves themselves have limited magic due to having less natural aptitude for rune-writing than humans. However, their skill in medicine and the sciences are unmatched, though they keep as much of that information hidden from the humans and Draigo as possible. Rumor has it they are blessed by the celestials to possess such skill, but they have neither confirmed nor denied such things.

Not much is known about the sang beside their physical prowess and desire for violence. The elves keep them at bay.

[cielettosa]

Character Analysis: Levi Ackerman "Humanity's Strongest Soldier

Levi Ackerman リヴ��イ・アッカーマン --- "Humanity's Strongest Soldier" 人類最強の兵士 --- Levi Heichou

“I want to put an end to that recurring nightmare, right now. There are those who would get in my way. But I'm fine playing the role of the lunatic who kills people like that. I have to be ready to rearrange some faces. Because I choose the hell of humans killing each other over the hell of being eaten.”

Introduction:

I think Levi's popularity kind of clouded a lot of people's opinions on him; they didn't see him as anything deeper than a badass scout. With all that being said, Levi is definitely one of the best developed characters with a great backstory and complexity. 

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i. design:

Levi has a surprisingly young visage, narrow, intimidating dull gray eyes with dark circles under them, and short, straight black hair styled in an undercut curtain. Despite his short stature, the intensive use of vertical maneuvering equipment has given him a well-developed muscular frame. He usually has a frown on his face or displays no emotion at all, which makes it challenging for people to predict what he is thinking.

Levi has a visage that is thin and sleek, with thin eyebrows, angular eyes, a pointed nose, and a narrow jawline. Additionally, he appears younger due to his plum-shaped face, pointed bottom, and short lower portion of the crown. Except for his tail, his eyes are peacefully down, giving him a generally lazy appearance. 

ii. fighting prowess:

The Ackermans have special abilities beyond most people. Their ancestors were granted enhanced strength, dexterity, and response time as a result of experiments in order to defend the King. The phrase "knowing what has to be done" used by Levi to describe the skill may allude to a slight foreknowledge of the opponent's movements that allows the user to react before the opponent even initiates a move. They are also aware of every battle their forefathers have participated in subconsciously. They were also immune to the King erasing the memories of the world before the Walls from the population, and thus hunted down and killed. 

Levi is said to have strength equal to that of an entire battalion.  He is incredibly strong both mentally and physically, and he has boundless endurance. He has proven to be an unmatched fighter, taking down some of the strongest characters in the series, including the infamous Beast Titan battles, in which he consistently and apparently effortlessly dispatched the beast. He demonstrates proficiency with the ODM gear and the blades he uses, and his cool, collected demeanor makes him the most dependable and effective member of the Survey Corps. Even after losing several of his fingers, Levi was still able to utilize the equipment almost as easily as before. He is also an extremely emotional person and is driven by his need to protect those around him and hides this behind his cold demeanor. Thes protective nature gives him strength in battle along with his Ackerman strength.

Levi can fight alone without using the normal tactics that soldiers would use to draw the giant's attention and sever its neck, such as surprise attacks or mass gatherings. He kills a Titan by spinning his body quickly around like a top while fighting, but only Levi employs this style of movement in the narrative. The ignorant Titans demonstrate a different degree of strength, decimating dozens of them like ants in a field and crushing their opponents in a fight with nine much more powerful Titans.

He has demonstrated the ability to disable the Female Titan by moving too quickly for her to protect him, something that entire squads and even Eren in his Titan form were unable to do. Zeke Yeager, one of the most powerful Warriors in the Marley force and a highly skilled Titan, was even defeated by him in his Beast Titan form. Both of these attacks had some level of planning and situational advantage because the Female Titan was exhausted from multiple battles in a short period of time and Levi surprised Zeke by engaging him and approaching too closely for Zeke to protect against. Despite this, Levi still possesses incredible skill with a pair of blades and was able to quickly carve the Beast Titan's arm into several clean pieces that all dropped to the ground together. However, Levi has demonstrated that he is capable of facing off against strong Titans in a one-on-one battle where he can make the most of his vertical moving abilities. For instance, Levi once again defeated Zeke in a woodland setting where he could effectively use his vertical equipment.

His anti-personnel combat ability was also impressive, as evidenced by the fact that he was battling Kenny while carrying an anti-personnel mobile device against the Central Military Police. He quickly dispatched 12 people despite the unfavorable circumstances of the surprise and harm suffered by the Central Military Police, commanded by Kenny Ackerman. He shoots the three-dimensional anchor to pierce the neck of a military police officer on the roof, and after seeing Kenny's reflection in a bottle, the officer fires back. Avoiding bullets is a fundamental skill. Levi was unable to be apprehended despite the fact that the surprise assault was flawless and well-planned, and the number of military police casualties reached double digits. 

Because his comrades drank Zeke’s spinal fluid, they turned into Titans and attacked Levi, who ultimately had to kill them. It was a tough thing for him to do (both mentally and physically), but he was able to succeed. It was one of the most tragic yet spectacular fights of Levi.

Levi has demonstrated a profound ability to quickly assess situations and make thoughtful decisions even in the heat of battle, in addition to his exceptional battle skill. This has enabled him to save himself and his allies on numerous occasions, such as when he realizes the Female Titan cannot be easily killed due to her skin hardening and regenerative abilities, saving Mikasa in the process, or the time he battles Kenny Ackerman inside a bar, stopping his enemies with chairs, a double-barreled shotgun, and even corpses. Levi acknowledges that not everyone can be correct all the time and that some situations are out of a person's control.

iii. trauma:

Levi was malnourished, on the brink of death, and by himself in a filthy brothel underground with his prostitute mother. Despite her financial difficulties as a single mother, Kuchel obviously cared for her son and did everything she could to provide for him. Despite her best efforts, hunger remained a continuous companion, and grime and dirt were unavoidable due in large part to living beneath a metropolis. 

He painstakingly observed his mother's illness-related demise. The sadness of Levi's early life is punctuated by his inability to leave her room, whether due to a wish to die with her or a dependency that left him with no other choices.  He was later raised in the underground city by his psychotic uncle Kenny Ackerman (whom he was unaware of at the time). From an early age, he had to adapt to the cruelty of the world, which is the central theme of Attack on Titan. He was involved in fights, so in essence, he learned to survive. But ultimately, while Levi was still a child, Kenny left him behind.

He developed a reputation as a notorious thug in the underground city and amassed a small group of followers. Erwin welcomed him and his group into the survey corps and granted them permission to live on the surface for a variety of reasons. However, he lost his entire squad, who to him was like a family, while battling the titans. Only two of his childhood friends, who he witnesses dying, have he ever developed a connection with; consequently, his affection transforms into sadness, which in turn leads to rage, which in turn leads to hatred, which in turn leads to retaliation.

After the cataclysmic failure of the 57th Expedition, Levi was approached by Petra's father. He had received a letter from Petra, a competent and devoted soldier who was a member of Squad Levi, in which she expressed her devotion to Levi. Levi was only able to stare ahead as the man, who was unaware that his daughter had died, made a joke about Petra being too young to get married and that she should wait until she has more life experience to make such a significant choice.

His two childhood friends, his uncle Kenny, and his subordinates from the Special Operations Unit of the Survey Corps, Erwin Smith and Hange Zoe passed away in battles, leaving Levi alone. It was a tragic and bitter device that demonstrated that no matter how powerful a person's combat ability, they are powerless against the cruelty and irrationality of the outside world.  Levi isn't flawless; he struggles and exhibits some social awkwardness. Although his past experiences helped mold him into the person he is today, the tale did not exaggerate this fact, which gave him a much more well-rounded personality because too pretentious backstories frequently result in over-glamorizing characters. 

iv. tendency to violence:

He has a severe obsession with maintaining both his personal and physical cleanliness. He doesn't like to be handled for fear of becoming dirty. I think that he may have acquired this trait as a result of his parenting. He is severely traumatized and twisted, sleeps in a chair, and only sleeps briefly, so it's conceivable that he experiences terrifying nightmares.Given that mental health care is probably non-existent in the AOT world and that watching literally everyone you care about die in horrifying ways as a child has to mess with your mental health, the chances of someone like Levi developing mental or emotional illness are extremely high. 

He is violent and bad mouthed because he was raised by a violent serial killer. In the course of his missions, Levi has killed over 200 Titans, and each time he was hailed as a hero by the unsuspecting crowd, while most of his comrades were slaughtered or killed, and he felt the weight of that, because he understands the value of human life.

The peculiar way he handles his cup is another oddity that intrigues me greatly. Even his weapon is held in the wrong hand. He does have a penchant for using force to enforce his will; he beat Eren to prove to the judge that he has control over him. He treated Historia harshly in the manga when he was attempting to "persuade" her to become monarch. (this scene was totally different in the anime). He has made some terrible choices, such as abandoning Isabel and Farlan so he could go and kill Erwin, which almost certainly resulted in their deaths. Had he remained with them, they would have been more likely to survive. When the Survey Corp had Annie restrained in the forest, taunting her about having her limbs severed probably frightened her, causing her to summon the mindless titans and flee. After Annie had slain every member of Levi's team, Eren was left alone and exposed to capture.

v. humanity:

Now despite how he is, Levi might be the nicest, most softhearted character in the series.

On the 56th Expedition Beyond the Walls, Levi saw a soldier caught in the jaws of a nearby Titan and killed it. Levi gave Petra the directive to care for the hurt soldier while he dealt with the lingering Titans as more of them drew near. Levi checked on the wounded soldier after the local area had been cleared, but he had already passed away from his wounds. In his final moments, Levi tried to console the scout by telling him he had done his job well and that he would kill all the Titans.

When Levi lost his whole squad and was sitting in the room with a very depressed Eren, he tried to make a joke (no matter how un-funny) to cheer him up.

When Eren got a nosebleed after his Titan experiments, no one but Levi offered him a handkerchief and told Hange to cut down on the experiments.

One day, while having tea with Levi Squad, Eren leaned over to pick up a spoon and accidentally generated a partial Titan body. The alarmed Squad threatened him, while Levi told them to calm down.

He was reluctant to pursue Mikasa to rescue Eren, who may or may not be alive, when he lost his entire squad and discovered her fighting to save him, but after learning that Eren was a "precious friend" to Mikasa, he took the initiative and saved him. He kept Petra's insignia as a memento after she passed away. However, when another soldier broke down in tears over the loss of his comrade, he handed him Petra's badge and informed him that it belonged to his comrade.

After retreating, the Survey Corps entered Karanes and was met with hostility from the populace due to their failed objective. Petra's father confronted Levi and told him how often she wrote to him. He admitted to Levi that he was concerned about Petra's choice to devote her life to him as a parent because she was still quite young and had her entire life ahead of her. Still troubled by what had happened, Levi walked quietly on without saying anything.

When Erwin died and he had a last chance to save either him or Armin, even though his heart must have hurt he still chose to save Armin. Because he had heard Armin talk about his dreams of seeing the ocean. And maybe that reminded him of his own friends and how they used to dream together like this.

After Hange presented a believable hypothesis that titans are made from humans, Levi was visibly shaken. He bemoaned the fact that, while he thought he was saving humans, he was actually killing them.

After Historia's coronation, Levi was confronted by the new queen and the members of the Special Operations Squad. She punched him lightly, as Dimo Reeves had told her to do, and she dared him to retaliate. Instead of getting angry however, he smiled and thanked his friends (which shocked everyone).

When Kenny Ackerman died, he revealed that he was his uncle. Levi lost the last of his family. But even so, he continued to move forward, without telling anyone. Levi never held anyone accountable for his failures. He didn't scream that he would exact vengeance on his enemies like Eren did.  Levi continued to battle for humanity in silence, using only his own strength while bearing all of his suffering. He has a lot of painful memories that keep him awake at night, but they also give him fortitude, so he is always prepared to act when disaster hits.

vi. nihilism:

Levi made the decision to destroy his enemy, the Titans, as soon as his friends perished, but despite the fact that he adopted a completely different strategy than Eren did in the first three seasons, Levi was basically a nihilist, at least in part.

But he doesn't do this because he hates Erwin; rather, he simply doesn't see value in the human dream, which in theory should be what motivates people to get out of bed in the morning. He doesn't see value in human existence to the point where he has no problem telling his friend Erwin to die and not give a damn about his dream.

In contrast to Erwin, who wants to triumph in order to realize his dream of learning the truth about the world, Levi rejected this idea if it was not necessary for victory. Levi's objective is to destroy the enemy. Since Zeke, who ironically wants to kill, shares Levi's nihilism and believes that death is a form of liberation from the world's cruelty, Levi chooses to save Erwin over Armin because Erwin is his close friend and thus deserves to be freed from the hell of this cruel world.

The Survey Corps began a large-scale mission to retake Wall Maria from the titans who had conquered it years earlier under the direction of Erwin Smith. The soldiers are shocked to discover that there are no titans in the city, but Zeke Yeager has created a trap for them. Erwin's resolve briefly wavers as he longs to survive and discover the mysteries of Grisha Yeager's cellar as he is cornered in the city by the Colossal Titan and the Armored Titan and is being shelled by the Beast Titan's artillery. Levi gives Erwin the command to abandon his goals and make a suicide attack on the Beast Titan despite the fact that he values his life. Levi makes a vow to slay the Beast Titan in order to give meaning to Erwin's death and their coworkers' deaths.

There is a fantastic dualism between Levi and his uncle Kenny.

Despite the fact that both Ackerman are renowned for their power, they couldn't be more dissimilar: The contrast between Levi and Kenny is one of an aimless man and a man with a path to follow. Kenny is a complete opportunist, has no real goals in life, and is loyal to no one but himself. He goes from being known as "Kenny the Ripper" because he had killed over 100 gendarmes to working for the gendarmerie itself. But during Kenny's concluding monologue, which I think is fantastic, this dualism gains depth.

Kenny elaborates on his theory of human nature, contending that every person succeeds in life precisely because he becomes "drunk" on something—whether it be money, women, power, or freedom—in other words, everyone advances because they have a dream. But Levi, as already mentioned, places little value on the idea of having a dream; he is an existentialist who simply moves forward; and, truthfully, these two worldviews are mirror images of one another.

But apart from all that, Levi is the character who best interprets the concept of the soldier, he is the soldier par excellence, but not because of his physical strength, but because of his behavior.

vii. determination to fulfill his promise:

My issue with Levi was that, at a certain point, his obsession with keeping his pledge to Erwin had engulfed him to the extent that he appeared disconnected from reality and felt almost self-destructive. Every other character would talk about the rumbling and Eren and express their opinions, whether they were completely opposed to it or just unsure, but Levi would almost never speak unless it was to discuss killing Zeke (and at one point, we all thought that killing Zeke wouldn't stop the rumbling, so it felt even more like a distraction).

Thankfully, he came around toward the end, and he was the one who essentially kept the alliance concentrated on the main objective. Taking on the role of the adult, making sure the children are aware of what is at risk. And he now has a chance to live a little more peacefully, which is wonderful because I was afraid that by the end, "he has no other purpose" would just kill him off.

His fight with Zeke/Beast Titan is my all time favorite.

viii. consistency and survivor's guilt:

His worldview and views remained constant throughout the entirety of the manga. He didn't let anything affect him and remained loyal to himself. When required, he tortured and killed, but he also offered consolation, displayed empathy, and cared about everyone. His complexity and what he went through are explained by the author's admission that he is the most emotional person but one of the coldest characters with the largest mask.

Finally able to settle down and relax, he was able to express all of his feelings. He could now truly grieve for all of his lost loved ones, colleagues, and teammates. He lost all of his friends, and only a few of his new squad members are still living. (Armin, Jean, Connie, Mikasa). 

Levi is unquestionably one of the best written characters, right up there with Eren and Reiner in terms of moral and emotional complexity as well as extreme survivor's remorse. He was one of the characters who consistently maintained consistency and concentration on his objectives. 

ix. quotes:

"The Difference In Judgement Between You And Me, Originates From Different Rules Derived From Past Experience."

"Whether You Have The Body, Dead Is Dead."

"So, Just Do The Best You Can And Choose Whichever You’ll Regret The Least."

"Some Scouts’ Lives Are More Valuable Than Others, Only Those Dumb Enough To Acknowledge That Join Us."

"No Casualties, Don't You Dare Die."

"If He Betrays Us Or Goes Berserk, I’ll Put Him Down Without Hesitation."

"What You Need Is to Be Quick To Act…And Make Tough Decisions In Worst-Case Scenarios."

"The Lesson You Need To Learn Right Now, Can’t Be Taught With Words...Only With Action."

"The Only Thing We’re Allowed To Do Is Believe That We Won’t Regret The Choice We Made."

"This Is Just My Opinion, But When It Comes To Teaching Somebody Discipline…I Think Pain Is The Most Effective Way."

"If You Don’t Want To Die — Think."

"The Difference Between Your Decision And Ours Is Experience. But You Don’t Have To Rely On That."

"It’s Good To See Someone Has The Balls To Go, But Do Not Forget To Do Your Damnedest To Stay Alive."

"I Don’t Know Which Option You Should Choose. I Could Never Advise You On That."

"I Choose The Hell Of Humans Killing Each Other Over The Hell Of Being Eaten."

“We pay a price for believing.”

“Give up on your dreams and die.”

“I want to put an end to that recurring nightmare right now.”

“Is your head as hollow as that gun barrel?”

“Believe in yourself, or believe in the survey corps and me. I don’t know and I never have but I can believe in my own abilities or the choices of the companions I trust. But no one ever knows how it will turn out. So choose for yourself, whichever decision you will regret the least.”

“I want to put an end that recurring nightmare, right now. There are those who would get in my way. But I’m fine playing the role of the lunatic who kills people like that. I have to be ready to rearrange some faces. Because I choose the hell of humans killing each other over the hell of being eaten.”

“I don’t know the answer to that. I never have. Whether I trusted myself or the choices of my dependable comrades, there was no telling how things would turn out. So, just do the best you can and choose whichever you’ll regret the least.”

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conclusion:

I would really like side stories about him after the ending. It would be amazing if he opened a tea shop and kept his blades and Survey Corps cape and hung it up on a wall.

[dailycharacteroption]

Prestige Class Spotlight 12: Aldori Swordlord

[photograph by MD-Arts on DeviantArt]

It’s funny, we’ve covered a fighting style and a Second Edition Archetype based on it, but only now are we doing the original prestige class for the Aldori Swordlords and their fighting style.

For those who aren’t familiar, The Aldori style of combat was named for it’s founder, who lost a fight against a bandit lord, left, learned some sweet sword skills with a unique weapon and came back for revenge, and eventually caved and began teaching other people his techniques, but only if they swore an oath to never share the secrets of the style with anyone who had not taken the oath.

Some take this very seriously, others do not, but the fact that the former have a tendency to hunt down the latter and those they’ve taught does skew the percentage between the two by a significant margin. Whether or not a prospective swordsperson has taken the oath is inconsequential to the prestige class requirements, of course, so you’re free to play either freely, though of course being oathless means you’ll have a lot of enemies if other masters figure that out.

In any case, these swordlords specialize in the use of a longsword-length blade with a slight curve to it, making it into an effectively single-edged weapon. The style centered around it allows the weaponed to be used with surprising grace, and it is mostly meant to be used in single combat, focusing on parrying foes and creating openings to strike.

In order to pursue this path, one must have learned how to use such a blade to it’s fullest extent, including the ability to strike with dexterity over strength and perform intimidating displays, as well as skills geared towards the elite lifestyle and physical prowess associated with the swordlords, putting this option as available around the 8th level mark (6th if you have a bonus feat at first level as a human, or even faster if your starting class grants bonus feats, such as fighter.)

Dextrous attacks are a key part of the style, and these warriors utilize it with ease, causing extra harm to foes thanks to their precision.

As duelists, these warriors must be prepared to fight at any moment. As such, they learn to draw their weapon quickly if they have not already done so, and how to best use their weapon for defense if they already have done so, (as well as using their dueling sword for various duelist or swashbuckler abilities).

The mastery these swordfighters display is truly impressive, and consequently, intimidating, giving them an edge when they demonstrate it to strike fear into the hearts of others. It even helps in performance combat, wowing the crowd with impressive displays.

They also demonstrate their agility to better dodge incoming strikes.

Another strength of their fighting style is how these warriors learn to read their opponents, letting them fight more defensively while remaining accurate, and then turn around and catch sight of their foe’s weaknesses and exploit openings.

A key maneuver at the right moment, especially one that leaves a foe at a disadvantage can shatter their confidence. As such, these warriors capitalize on that and demoralize foes further when they deal especially grievous blows or succeed at a maneuver that puts them at a serious disadvantage.

A parrying sword may not always be able to block an incoming blow, but it can sure throw it off course from your vitals. As such, these duelists always go for the parry, and have a decent chance of negating crits as a result. Later on, this improves as they get better at such defense.

Not all fights are duels, and not all duels are done on fair, even footing. As such, the swordlords learn to keep mobile even when hanging from a handhold. This training also helps them right themselves without taking a hit when knocked down.

The most powerful among them can shatter not just confidence, but also discombobulate foes, leaving them unable to use their mastery and insight in the fight for a few seconds.

The Aldori Swordlord prestige class is honestly a masterclass in building a prestige class that works for as many classes as possible while still keeping it’s gimmick concise and fun. Now, naturally, this archetype is meant for martial classes, but it actively goes out of it’s way to integrate with the rules for certain classes and archetypes, from potentially granting a bonus feat meant for swashbucklers and duelists, to integrating with the Aldori Defender archetype for fighter. Additionally, the ability to suppress morale bonuses, and at max level insight and competence bonuses as part of free demoralizations you get every time you pull off most combat maneuvers and all critical hits is potentially huge, shutting a buffed-up foe down long enough to secure the victory. You can easily build these characters using fighter, swashbuckler, ranger, paladin, or even sneakier classes like rogue and slayer, and really come up with a powerful character with good defense, offence, and debuffing built right in.

Closed fighting techniques are interesting, and not just for the intrigue that comes from knowledge that outsiders aren’t supposed to know. It’s more defensive than anything else, an attempt to stave off war’s cycle of innovation and reverse-engineering. After all, a foe can’t copy, or worse, pick apart your technique if they don’t know it. On the other hand, however, such concealed knowledge does mean that there is the risk not just stagnating, but of the style being outright lost for good if nobody remains to teach it. It really depends on what you value.

Distrusting them from the moment he laid eyes on them, Argyo has hated the party ever since they came to the lashunta homeworld. What’s worse, he hates how readily the rest of his kind have accepted these strangers from the stars, and now his master is offering to teach the warrior their sacred swordfighting techniques? This is the last straw, and he may do something completely rash as a result.

They say that the caligni, the so-called dark folk, were once humans transformed by centuries of meddling from their owb masters. However, now an owb prophet known only as the Snuffed Flame seeks to develop a way to transform humans into shadow-bound servants within a matter of minutes rather than generations. As such, it has orchestrated several kidnappings, including the current arena champion Zolta.

In the land of Byarna, it is said the first dueling swords were made as copies of the legendary Foeslicer, an enchanted blade of incredibly lethal power. However, it has been so long and the weapon hasn’t surfaced, making many wonder if it was ever real to begin with. That is until a young man, a spy caught stealing secrets of the dueling sword style, is forced to draw the weapon he found during his work.

[nightraid-hq]

NIGHTRAID KAIHO ISSUE #1 | A CLASH OF SPELLCASTERS!

The greatly anticipated magicks tournament unfolded in front of NightRaid HQ, captivating audiences and igniting the spirits of aspiring mages and sorcerers. This grand event brought together some formidable magic users, showcasing their talents and unleashing spells of breathtaking magnitude. As the night sky shimmered with the promise of arcane prowess, the competition witnessed some exhilarating battles.

The tournament commenced with a spellbinding duel between Joshua and Krysanthe, mentor and student. Both combatants wove intricate patterns in the air, summoning the power of the stars through their astromancy arts. Explosions of cosmic energy filled the arena as the two masters clashed, creating a spectacle that left the audience in awe. Ultimately, Krysanthe's celestial mastery prevailed, defeating her mentor in a hard-fought victory and setting the stage for an enthralling tournament ahead.

In the next encounter, Kallias and Penelo took center stage, each showcasing their unique magical styles. Kallias employed the mesmerizing art of paper puppet magics, his dragon familiar throwing fiery displays that dazzled the crowd. Penelo, on the other hand, harnessed the raw power of conjury, commanding the elements with grace and precision without a staff to speak of, impressing onlookers. The clash of these two formidable magicians was an intense battle that kept the spectators on the edge of their seats. In the end, Kallias emerged victorious, his blazing pyrotechnics overwhelming Penelo's conjured forces by the narrowest of margins.

Up next against Krysanthe was Ryuu. Well known for her explosive blue magicks, she quickly started the match with a torrent of aether. Spells inspired by wildlife and the elemental forces of her hunts erupted from her fingertips, testing Krysanthe's mettle. Despite that, Krysanthe's unwavering resolve proved insurmountable, and she emerged triumphant, reaffirming her place as a force to be reckoned with.

The stage was set for an epic clash of champions as Kallias faced off against the indomitable Krysanthe in the tournament's final showdown. Kallias employed a combination of his signature paper puppet magics and newfound confidence. Krysanthe, undeterred by the formidable opponent before her, summoned her stellar astromancy powers once more. The impressive dragon familiar mastery against the stellar counterattacks, pushing each combatant to the limits of their magical strength. Ink spilled from the belly of the paper familiar on more than one occasion as Kallias fought back with all of him. In the end, Krysanthe's unwavering determination and mastery of the celestial arts proved too formidable for Kallias to overcome. With a resounding display of astromantic power, Krysanthe emerged victorious as the champion of Nightraid's Magical Tournament.

[lured-into-wonderland]

Reid was far from an ordinary resident; he possessed the allure of a star and the physique of a mythological hero. His striking blue eyes and sculpted jawline could make even the most hardened souls feel a flutter of excitement. Known throughout the land as a notorious flirt, it seemed that every woman who caught his gaze was inevitably drawn into his magnetic charm. With just a wink and a charming smile, he could elicit a blush from the shyest girl or persuade the most resolute widow to join him in a dance. However, beneath his polished facade lay a man whose spirit was as untamed as the legends surrounding his escapades.

Reid's days were a whirlwind of adventure, while his nights were filled with conquests. He would roam from tavern to tavern, regaling listeners with grand stories of slaying dragons and seeking hidden treasures. The townspeople hung on his every word, their eyes sparkling with a mix of envy and admiration. They spoke in hushed tones about his legendary charisma, unmatched prowess in battle, and the endless parade of admirers that followed him. Yet, despite the accolades and attention, Reid felt a persistent emptiness. Each fleeting romance ignited a spark, but that spark dimmed as swiftly as the sunsets he often watched alone from his loft.

As twilight descended, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, Reid found himself captivated by an extraordinary scene. There, amidst the cobblestone streets, stood a young woman clad in a striking royal blue gown, her gaze as frigid as the moonlight that bathed the world around them. Her name was Nunnally, and she was a vision unlike any he had encountered. Her allure was not the kind that left men breathless; instead, it radiated a fierce strength and an indomitable spirit. She glided through the streets with the elegance of a gazelle and the poise of a sovereign. The townsfolk spoke of her in hushed tones, branding her the unattainable princess, her heart as fortified as the castle walls that surrounded her.

Driven by a newfound determination, Reid resolved to win her heart. He employed every tactic he could muster: sweet whispers, grand displays of affection, and moonlit serenades beneath her window. Yet, Nunnally remained impervious, her eyes reflecting the vastness of the cosmos. Each rebuff only intensified his longing, transforming his playful pursuit into an all-consuming obsession. Unbeknownst to Reid, Nunnally's heart was not encased in ice, but rather shrouded in layers of complexity and protection. Her past held a mystery that even the most eloquent of suitors could not unravel. Thus, Reid found himself entangled in a dance of emotions he had never anticipated, one that would lead him into a realm of danger far greater than any dragon's den he had ever dared to explore.

On a tempestuous night, a shadowy figure glided into the tavern where he sat. The woman spoke in cryptic phrases, alluding to a path that could lead him to fulfill the princess's desires. Eager to unravel the mystery that was Nunnally, he seized her offer of a potion, which promised to help him capture the heart of the woman he longed for. Yet, the potion came with a sinister twist. With a wicked laugh, the woman cautioned him that the cost of such dark sorcery would be a metamorphosis into a being that mirrored his own vanity and greed. Blinded by his obsession, Reid disregarded the warning and gulped down the potion without hesitation.

As the first light of dawn crept into the room, Reid was shocked to discover he had been transformed into a diminutive piglet. The space around him was a chaotic blend of bizarre shapes and unfamiliar scents, and his new body felt completely foreign, his usual strength replaced by a soft, clumsy form. A surge of panic engulfed him as he realized the enormity of his blunder. He had become the very creature he had always sought to control: a being to be hunted and used for the entertainment of others. As he squealed and scurried around the room, his mind raced with frantic thoughts about the curse and how he might ever hope to escape it.

The castle guards, drawn in by the ruckus, burst through the door, their eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of a piglet causing such a stir. Laughter erupted among them, and soon the news spread like wildfire throughout the castle. Even Nunnally, the one he secretly adored, caught wind of the peculiar incident. Meanwhile, Reid was taken to the royal farm, where they sought to uncover the mystery of his transformation and how he had ended up in this bewildering predicament.

No, he wasn’t in love with her. The princess wasn’t that naïve (nor that innocent). It wasn’t love. Perhaps it wasn’t even desire or lust. Obsession. If anything that was an obsession. Reid wanted her simply because she had refused and showed no interest in him (and his efforts). Should she agree, should she give him what he wanted, he would soon disappear to slaughter another monster, court another princess, seduce another woman. Not that Nunnally was trying to keep Reid with her. Quite opposite, she was rather tired of his efforts (and all the others that had come before and most likely would come after him); efforts to win her heart. She wasn’t made for love. She didn’t want love. It would only hurt her. Of that Nunnally was certain.

But Reid wasn’t giving up. No matter what she did to discourage him, he didn’t accept both the small hints and even the open suggestions to q u i t. Nunnally was becoming desperate. What should she do? She didn’t want to keep him here forever. The world needed him (and she did not). The princess had even started to receive complaints that she was holding the world's greatest hero all for herself. While there were monsters that required his attention. Damsels in distress who were waiting for his assistance. Kingdoms that needed his swords. Treasures that needed to be found.

And the princess didn’t know what to do. And how to reply to these unfair accusations? And yet, she was still grateful to Reid. For killing the beast. For protecting her lands. Nunnally was desperate. Was she finally to give him what he wanted? But what was that now?

Her heart? Her hand? Her love? Her body? What did Reid want? Or did he only need victory? Shall she simply pretend he had won her heart and he’d leave satisfied? But that sounded too easy.

And it was one of these times, when the princess was sitting in her study trying to solve that unsolvable puzzle… It was when an unexpected ruckus interrupted her thoughts. But at that time Nunnally thought that any disturbance was better than being left with her thoughts. So she followed the commotion outside… And the guards, and the maids, and the courtiers led the princess to the chambers of the world’s greatest hero. Now turned into…a piglet!

And so Nunnally (together with the others) was watching as that small pink animal was frantically running through the chamber; oinking desperately for help. She was confused and unable to move. So, the princess was just standing there watching that race between the scared (?) animal and the guards, but obviously the piglet stood no chance. Finally caught, and brought to the royal farm, where he was well taken care of, but probably being completely unhappy. Perhaps even humiliated.

Every day when the princess woke up, she was hoping it had been just a bad dream. That Reid would welcome her with flowers, and she would finally ask him what he wanted. But each morning, she was informed that the mystery was not s o l v e d, and the pink piglet was still a piglet. And Nunnally felt guilty about it. It all happened because of her. Because she was too proud. Her hear too cold. Her will too strong.

She was a witch. A witch had returned. She knew that was what the townsfolks whispered when they were sure no-one was listening. Witch is dead? Did they expect she had turned Reid into a piglet because she was afraid he’d discover her true identity? The one of the witch? She would ridicule all that talking, if she only could. But even here, at the royal palace, there were these who believed in these rumours.

So one day, perhaps driven by guilt, or perhaps by curiosity, she arrived in the farm accompanied by her ladies-in-waiting to see Reid. He was easy to spot. Even if there were so many small piglets. It was obvious, which one was the hero. For a few moments, the princess was wondering if that pink piglet was also praising its own deeds to its current company. She smiled to this thought. But yet Nunnally asked the pig boy to bring her the piglet. Gently taking the pig into the blanket that she had especially brought for this very occasion, she took Reid (or the piglet) and started to walk back to the palace.

“There…there…Reid…” – she was talking gently – “You’ll be all safe with me. I think it is my fault you ended up in this form, so perhaps it is now my duty to assist you in getting back your human form.” – she wasn’t sure if he could understand her. But she hoped he did – “I am looking through old books to find a solution. A spell…or a potion…”

“You’ll be fine…” – Nunnally wasn’t sure if she was cheering up him or rather herself; though she had never been fond of heroes. They always meant problems – “For the time being, you’ll stay with me. I prepared you your very special bed in my bedroom.”

She could imagine the shocked expressions of those accompanying her. But she didn’t care. That was the least she could do for a man (piglet) that saved her lands.

@fallesto

[altocat]

Any birdboi Sephiroth mating rituals headcanon?

The act of Sephiroth's majestic mating courtship is a sacred tradition that ANY proper selected individual would be PROUD to witness. So pay attention, Cloud 😈

-First, behold the incredible length and physicality of his wingspan! Yes, that is indeed, a wing. No, you may NOT touch it unless given permission! Admire the strength and power that lies within it. Surely that is more than enough of a reason to see just how worthy of a mate Sephiroth is! Wait--Cloud come back!

-Next, Sephiroth shall demonstrate his virility. This is shared in the observation of his overall health and appearance. Really now, Cloud, this one is a no-brainer! Just ignore the whole 'insane' thing and you have yourself quite a catch! Flawless. Absolutely flawless. Unless you are attracted to brighter colors. Unfortunately for you, Sephiroth has kiiiiiinda eliminated/stabbed the competition so I hope you like black and silver, Cloud!

-Sephiroth will then demonstrate his daunting ability to act as a necessary provider for his beloved potential mate in the act of hunting! Just a little something so you can witness his incredible skill and prowess. What do you MEAN dead bodies are 'fucked up'? It's perfectly fresh! So ungrateful, Cloud.

-Sephiroth will now display the sacred mating tradition by engaging in the act of dancing. This is a two-person engagement, Cloud. Your participation IS required. Please do not step on his wing. Cloud, you're stepping on his wing. Cloud, that kind of hurts. CLouD--

-Now we shall conclude the ritual with a demonstration of strength! Sephiroth enjoys this part the most. He will show you the full scope of his ability to protect his future mate from danger! The WORLD is dangerous, Cloud. Sephiroth is perfectly willing to take the whole world on to protect you. Now if we were to just summon Meteor again...

Needless to say, Cloud did not let him smash 😭

[llamagoddessofficial]

HHNNNNNG please more moth boys? 🥺🥺🥺

(thank you @shikyokage742 for sending in some lovely headcanons- they were super adorable and I've noted with a lil (*) which of these headcanons were directly inspired by theirs!)

Sans:

(*) Sans gets the majority of his den decorations from animal prey. Feathers everywhere, downy tufts floating around, thick fur blankets and woolly sheets. It looks a mess... but it’s comfy, and smells homey.

He loves full moons. He can see everything, but nothing can see him.

Scents are a surprisingly big deal to him- he always needs his den to smell good, safe, fresh but also warm and inviting... hopefully that way, when he kidnaps convinces her to visit, she’ll like it enough to stay.

His wings feel surprisingly sleek to the touch- like iridescent silk. He has no idea how he has such nice wings but he isn’t complaining

Fortunately, he has enough braincells to know that Mc won’t appreciate being gifted dead things. Humans are easily frightened like that. He satisfies his instinct to share his hunts with her by finding ways to give her pretty feathers from birds he’s killed.

Moth monsters can give off a variety of pheromones. Some are to fool prey, scare away rivals, lure in mates, all three at once... but Sans? He has a curious proficiency in a scent that has the power to lull someone into a deep sleep. The only downside is that he has to get very close for the full effect to take place.

...

So... why not come give him a hug? His wings are so soft, after all. That’s it, nice and close... don’t be shy.

Red:

He’s active the deepest into the day of the three boys. Sure, the other two will be around in the day if they think they have a chance of catching up to Mc; but Red is the only one who’ll actually stick around in the sun after she’s gone. He particularly enjoys sunrise. 

(He’s trying to acclimatise to being active in the day so there’s less reasons for Mc to not be with him)

Every time he makes her laugh, even by accident, he thinks about it for days.

(*) Once again Red’s love of nesting transcends AUs. He steals blankets and pillows and tapestries from travellers and merchants and even some nearby homes in order to construct a blissfully comfy bed his future mate will never want to leave.

The most likely of the three to get aggressive with humans he considers a threat. All of them would attack a human contender for Mc’s heart, but Sans has more self control and Skull is unlikely to ever encounter one.

There’s a few different ways moths can court their intended. Displays of strength and speed, wing size and colour, pheromones, examples of hunting prowess... and although his wings are certainly visually impressive and his pheromones have an attractive smoky scent, he actually (privately) prefers a much gentler method of courtship.

... It’s singing. It sounds, to humans, like pleasantly harmonising humming- it’s gentle on the ears and oddly hypnotic. Sometimes when he’s happy around her he starts humming without realising

He absolutely hates rain

Skull:

(*) His love of soft things has pushed him to pick up weaving in his spare time. His den is full of silky & fluffy handmade items; pillows, blankets, throws, perhaps even items of clothing for his future mate... to the point where almost every inch of the den is layered with his creations.

Because of his bad eyesight, dark home and reliance on touch, he genuinely cannot stand it if he finds a bare spot of wall in his den. If he does he’s spending the next few hours creating something to patch it up.

No amount of weaving can fill the silence, though.

He’s so lonely

Rain is usually very annoying for the moth monsters- it makes them soggy and heavy, wings take forever to dry. But Skull enjoys rain. Everything goes so peaceful when it rains... he likes sitting at the entrance to his den and watching.

His hearing is phenomenal. All the moth monsters have terrifyingly good hearing, but Skull really takes the cake- he can map objects and rooms three dimensionally. He can tell what someone looks like by leaning close and humming, and hearing the way his voice bounces off the planes of their face.

All of the moths would be amazing blankets but you can imagine, thanks to the size & fluffiness & heaviness of his wings, just how amazing it would feel to get wrapped up with him.

He likes singing too. He isn’t very good at it, but... he’ll try. For her.

[thecreaturecodex]

Asura Rana, Cas

Image by Daarken, © Wizards of the Coast. Accessed at the Heroes of Horror Art Gallery here

[Furtober finishes off with a big bang and a Big Bad. Heroes of Horror introduced Cas, the Lord of Spite, and I remember a lot of people making fun of him at the time. The idea that a supervillain evil god has the head of a moose was seen as ridiculous, and comparisons to Bullwinkle were common. Nowadays, the fact that moose are huge and terrifying relict megafauna seems to be more appreciated, and there’s something I find appealing about the idea of a prey species becoming the hunter. Appropriate for a god of spite and revenge. The knee pads and codpiece made of human skulls are admittedly silly, though.

The original Cas was NE and a god, and his CR 25 avatar was basically just a 20th level ranger with some extra outsider HD and a few surprisingly weak SLAs. I’ve moved him to LE to fit with his retribution theme, and because his hatred of the gods seems very appropriate for the asuras. I’ve left some of the ranger abilities, but added some inquisitor material as well, in addition to a few new surprises.]

Asura Rana, Cas CR 26 LE Outsider (extraplanar) This giant has reddish brown skin and the head of a moose, the antlers stained with blood. It has clawed hands, cloven hooves and brandishes a large mace of black metal. Its body seems to shimmer with heat.

Cas Lord of Spite, the Red Grudge, He Who Balances the Scales Concerns spite, disproportionate retribution, vengeance Domains Destruction, Evil, Law, Strength Subdomains Corruption, Ferocity, Hatred, Judgment Worshipers inquisitors, vigilantes, the wronged Minions asuras, devourers, revenants Unholy Symbol a rack of blood-stained antlers Favored Weapon heavy mace Devotion spend one hour ruminating aloud on those that have wronged you, beginning in a whisper and culminating in a scream. Gain a +4 profane bonus on Diplomacy checks to gather information, Survival checks to follow tracks, and Intimidate checks. Boons 1: bestow curse 1/day; 2: transformation 1/day; 3: energy drain 1/day

Cas the Lord of Spite is an asura rana who nurses hate and frustration, stoking the fires of vengeance until they erupt destructively. According to his cult, he was once a mortal huntsman with a loving family. He and his family grew isolated from their community, until violence erupted and his whole family was slain. Due to the social standing of his assailants, he could not turn to the law for recourse, and so turned to the gods. When divine intervention was not forthcoming, he swore vengeance against both his assailants and the divine order, fueling his apotheosis through pure rage and resulting in the destruction of the entire kingdom.

Cas’ ultimate hatred is towards the gods, making him a natural member of the asura ranas. His ambition is still greater; he is currently brooding over his lesser position surrounded by more powerful asuras, the Lords of the Nine and even Asmodeus himself. Cas covets true divinity, but he knows he has a long way to go, and this sulking bitterness fuels him. His violent outbursts at every slight make him a fiend of few allies and many toadies, but more powerful archfiends attempt to steer his rage into useful directions.

The Red Grudge enjoys combat, but he even more enjoys drawing out the hunt of a victim and increasing their terror. He is rarely found without the Ebon Rod of Cas, which he wields in two hands in order to feel more savagely its crushing blows. Cas’ blood boils with the heat of his rage, and the shimmer this causes makes him difficult to strike in combat. Cas is a skilled spellcaster despite his love of violence, and uses magic to inflict pain, forbid actions and heal himself and his allies.

Cas’ faithful are few and far between, and often keep a low profile. His cult broods in dungeons and cellars, not meets in exalted temples. He delights in perverting those with legitimate grievances, as he once was, turning them into ruthless vigilantes who kill to punish minor crimes. His priesthood believes that civilization is a thin veneer beneath which lies nothing but chaos, and it must be kept in order through savage violence. They also believe that anyone, even the most holy and pure, can become a follower of Cas if wronged sufficiently. The faithful of Cas have an unfortunate tendency to rise as undead upon their death, continuing their campaigns of violent revenge beyond the grave.

Ebon Rod of Cas (major artifact) The prized weapon of Cas, he occasionally loans it out to his devout in order to strike somewhere where he cannot go himself. The Ebon Rod of Cas is a Large +3 vicious adamantine heavy mace. It acts as a bane weapon against any creature that has caused injury to its wielder for up to 1 year. It is effectively immune to sundering and other forms of direct damage; a creature that deals damage to it must succeed a DC 25 Will save or take that damage instead. The Ebon Rod of Cas can only be destroyed if it is carried for 100 years by an empyreal lord devoted to peace and forgiveness, whereupon it evaporates into mist. 

Cas      CR 26 XP 2,457,600 LE Large outsider (asura, asura rana, evil, extraplanar, lawful) Init +7; Senses darkvision 60 ft., detect good, Perception +39, see in darkness, true seeing Aura frightful presence (60 ft., DC 34) Defense AC 44, touch 26, flat-footed 36 (-1 size, +7 Dex, +1 dodge, +9 profane, +18 natural) hp 573 (31d10+403); regeneration 25 (deific or mythic) Fort +23, Ref +23, Will +28; +8 vs. mind-influencing, improved evasion DR 15/good, epic and cold iron; Immune ability damage, ability drain, charm effects, compulsion effects, curse effects, death effects, disease, divinations, energy drain, fear, fire, petrifaction, poison, polymorph; Resist acid 30, electricity 30; SR 37 Defensive Abilities freedom of movement, hateful ward, heat shimmer Offense Speed 50 ft., fly 100 ft. (perfect) Melee Ebon Rod of Cas +48/+43/+38/+33 (2d6+25 plus 2d6 vicious/19-20), gore +40 (2d8+7 plus 2d6 fire) or 2 claws +45 (2d6+12 plus 2d6 fire), gore +45 (2d8+12 plus 2d6 fire) Space 10 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks agony beam, favored enemy (dragons +2, good outsiders +6, evil outsiders +4, humans +4, magical beasts +2) Spell-like Abilities CL 26th, concentration +35 Constant—detect good, freedom of movement, mind blank, true seeing At will—bestow curse (DC 23), enervation, greater teleport (self plus 50 lbs. material only), malicious spite (DC 23), permanent image (DC 25), vampiric touch 3/day—command undead (DC 26), fire storm (DC 27), greater dispel magic, instant enemy, quickened major curse (DC 25), summon asuras 1/day—energy drain (DC 28), unhallow, wail of the banshee (DC 28), wish Spells CL 20th, concentration +29 6th (6/day)—blade barrier (DC 25), harm (DC 25), heal (DC 25), mass fester (DC 25), overwhelming presence (DC 25) 5th (7/day)—dispel good (DC 24), geas/quest, greater command (DC 24), mass castigate (DC 24), unwilling shield (DC 24) 4th (7/day)—cure critical wounds (DC 23), divination, divine power, fear (DC 23), greater invisibility, spell immunity 3rd (7/day)—arcane sight, deeper darkness, dimensional anchor, heroism, terrible remorse (DC 22), ward the faithful 2nd (7/day)—cure moderate wounds (DC 21), howling agony (DC 21), knock, resist energy, silence (DC 21), spiritual weapon 1st (8/day)—bless, comprehend languages, cure light wounds, divine favor, expeditious retreat, shield of faith 0th—bleed (DC 19), brand (DC 19), create water, detect magic, read magic, resistance Statistics Str 35, Dex 25, Con 37, Int 22, Wis 28, Cha 28 Base Atk +31; CMB +44; CMD 61 Feats Combat Expertise, Combat Reflexes, Critical Focus, Dazzling Display, Dodge, Improved Critical (mace), Intimidating Prowess, Mobility, Power Attack, Quicken SLA (major curse), Shatter Defenses, Spring Attack, Staggering Critical, Stand Still, Stunning Critical, Whirlwind Attack Skills Appraise +29, Bluff +35, Escape Artist +11, Fly +41, Intimidate +47, Linguistics +29, Knowledge (arcana, history, nobility, religion) +29, Knowledge (local, planes) +32, Perception +39, Sense Motive +35, Spellcraft +29, Stealth +31, Survival +35; Racial Modifiers +6 Escape Artist, +4 Perception Languages Celestial, Common, Infernal, 23 others; telepathy 300 ft. SQ asura rana traits Ecology Environment any land or underground (Hell) Organization unique Treasure double standard (Ebon Rod of Cas, other treasure) Special Abilities Agony Beam (Su) Once every 1d4 rounds as a standard action, Cas can unleash a beam of pure pain in a 120 foot line. All living creatures in the area take 12d12 damage and are filled with pain for 1 minute, suffering a -4 penalty on attack rolls, skill checks and ability checks. A successful DC 34 Fortitude save halves the damage and negates the penalties. Multiple failed saves cause the duration of the penalties to stack. This is a pain effect, and the save DC is Charisma based. Asura Rana Traits (Ex, Su and Sp) Cas has the following traits:

Cas can grant spells to his worshipers as if he were a deity.

Cas’ natural weapons, as well as any weapons it wields, are treated as lawful, epic, and evil for the purpose of overcoming damage reduction.

Infernal Resurrection (Ex) Cas rules an infernal domain. If he is slain, his body rapidly melts into corruption (leaving behind any gear he held or carried), his soul returns to a hidden location within his realm, and it is immediately restored to life (as true resurrection) at that location. Once this occurs, Cas can’t use this ability again until a full year has passed. An asura rana that is slain again during this year or is killed by unusual methods (such as by a true deity or an artifact created for this purpose) is slain forever.

Immunity to ability damage, ability drain, charm effects, compulsion effects, death effects, energy drain, and petrification.

Regeneration (Ex) Only chaotic, epic and  good  damage, or damage from a creature of equal or greater power (such as an archdevil, deity, demon lord, or protean lord) interrupts Cas’s regeneration.

Resistance to acid 30, and  electricity 30

Summon Asuras (Sp) Three times per day as a swift action, Cas can summon any asura or combination of asuras whose total  combined CR is  20 or lower. This otherwise works like the summon  universal monster rule with a 100% chance of success, and counts as a 9th-level spell effect.

Telepathy 300 feet.

Favored Enemy (Ex) Cas gains the favored enemy ability of a 20th level ranger. Hateful Ward (Su) Cas gains a profane bonus to his armor class equal to his Charisma modifier. Heat Shimmer (Su) Cas’ body radiates heat, warping his position and protecting him from attacks. Creatures gain a 20% miss chance on attack rolls against Cas if they use sight, and a creature that strikes Cas with a melee weapon, natural weapon, unarmed strike or touch attack takes 2d6 points of fire damage. Weapons with the reach property do not endanger their wielders in this way. If Cas takes 30 or more points of cold damage from a single spell or effect, this ability is suppressed for 1d4 rounds. Spells Cas gains spellcasting as a 20th level inquisitor. He does not gain other class abilities of inquisitors, such as the judgment ability.

[lovehotelreservation]

My Warrior of Light Can’t Be This Cute!!! - Local Weather

Summary: As the Warrior of Light, the impact of your actions upon all of Eorzea and its future cannot be denied. By your accomplishments and failures, ever so slightly and significantly does the fate of the world change.

The same could especially be said to those who see themselves as your ally, your mentor, and--even so--your enemy.

But you need not slay a primal to leave those particular individuals at a loss for words.

This collection will document the many ways that you, the Warrior of Light, have wrought flustering havoc upon some of Eorzea's most notable men.

Rating: R

Pairing: Reader/Haurchefant

[Previous Chapter - Thancred]

[Next Chapter - Thancred]

HAURCHEFANT'S A BRONY??????????????????????????????????????????????

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

The ceaseless blizzard that left the lands of Coerthas forever slumbering beneath a blanket of snow and sleet was not for everyone.

Haurchefant was well aware of this.

Even amongst locals and the most dedicated of knights, the weather was bemoaned by many. By now, he was used to adventurers from the likes of the city-states below immediately rushing to the fireplace within his chancery at Camp Dragonhead.

However, there was one recent visit that lingered in his mind, the effect of which had him staring straight towards the kindling flames of his fireplace on this particular evening.

The hour was late but he could not bring himself to retreat to his quarters.

Not while he had that delectable sight still fresh on his mind.

The flash of panties by none other than you, the appointed champion of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.

He had come to enjoy your company since the two of you met--you seeking out The Enterprise to combat the vicious gales of Garuda. There was inspiration to be found from your courage, admiration in your strength, and--undeniably so--longing for your company. Each visit from you was something he had to savor, with each goodbye leaving him hungering for more.

After all, you still offered him a cheeky “Perhaps” when he once proposed that you join him in his quarters some time soon.

For a test of strength of course.

Tangled in his sheets.

Bold, shameless--you could label his advances however you’d like. Certainly, there wasn’t any one in the world who could match his prowess in bed.

It was as much for your sake as it was for his.

Who knows when all of Eorzea would call for your attention yet again?

And though you left too quickly for his liking on this day, he still appreciated the gift you left behind for him to enjoy.

You were in a rush to claim an ungodly amount of Ice Sprite cores on the behest of acclaimed Chef Lyngsath for an upcoming dessert sampler soiree at The Bismarck. Comparing the tropical weather of Limsa Lominsa to the endless blizzard of Coerthas, it was clear as day that you were not dressed for the weather with your thin yet long robe, the front of which ended just above your hips, which offered many the sight of your skirt’s hem and the bold display of your legs. Given your tight schedule, you had little time to so much as change upon transporting from paradise to the tundra.

Still, you at least paid him a visit once you were finished hunting for those icy orbs.

While you lamented on how he could endure to live in such a frigid place, you quickly hurried by his fireplace to warm your chilled body. 

As he took in and admired your precious whines, a sly grin slid on his lips.

Obviously, if you were so cold, there was one way to warm you up that he would happily offer.

But that would have to wait for another time, as the moment you could finally regain feeling in your legs once more, you quickly prepared to teleport away while offering your goodbyes.

And it was then, as your body slowly levitated into the air, that he saw a flash of lace.

A sharp crackle was emitted from the fireplace.

Haurchefant, still gazing into its smoldering cinders, let out a snort as his lips quirked into a wry smile.

Similarly, a fierce inferno had now seized hold of his body, far beyond any flame within the roaring fireplace could even think to muster.

He just wanted to warm you up, to kiss the chill off of your thighs before helping himself to playful teasing bites.

All until he would start marking your skin.

If you would be flaunting your legs in such a way, surely it wouldn’t hurt to leave a reminder to any wandering eye about the man who is best compatible with you?

As his mind quickly descended into the many ways he wished to ravage you, there was at least one silver lining amidst all of the frustrations that you conjured up so easily.

At least his libido was being stoked by thighs, as opposed to the flustering effect that a revealed shoulder would have on a certain Ishgardian Lord Commander.

[vex-bittys]

How would the lamias show a potential mate that they is interested? Sorry if you've answered this before!

*All lamia bittybones use the four steps of bonding to show a potential mate that they are interested. The first two steps of bonding can also be purely platonic signs of trust and affection.

STEP ONE

*Physical touch is the first sign that a lamia likes someone and is usually something that happens before they are adopted. Physical touch can be a sign trust or a sign of affection, especially from a Honey Bo who tends to take time to warm up to someone.

STEP TWO

*A practical gift is given. This gift is usually food, clothing, a blanket, etc. This can also just be a sign or trust and friendship. Most lamias will give a human adopter something that humans can eat, but a Mamba may bring you a particular dangerous-looking bug or large rodent to show off his hunting prowess as well. Thank him, but definitely don’t eat it. Papythons enjoy knitting and crafting and may make you a nice scarf. Again, it’s probably best not to eat it.

STEP THREE

*An impractical gift is given. An impractical gift is a gift that only has sentimental value, to be admired but not to satisfy a basic need. It is important to note that this step may also be platonic. Chains especially enjoy giving shiny/pretty objects that they find to their SOULbonds. It shows affection, but not necessarily romantic affection. If a lamia is giving his gift for a romantic reason, he usually makes a big deal about it (except for Corals who may struggle with bonding steps). He will give you the item in a dramatic or grandiose way and then wait for your decision. In situations involving a Coral, one of his personal treasures will find its way to you. The level of affection directly corresponds with how important that treasure is to him.

STEP FOUR

*The final step in romantic bonding does not occur in non-romantic bonding. If the impractical gift is accepted, the lamia will plan his display. Each lamia’s display is different but for most, it’s a kind of dance meant to show the speed, strength, and dexterity of the lamia. This step of bonding is based on a natural instinct to prove himself as a superior specimen for mating even if mating doesn’t occur. He just wants you to see how awesome he is, and how choosing him is the best decision.

IMPORTANT

*Lamias respect your wishes and decisions. Never worry about hurting your lamia’s feelings by telling him that you aren’t interested in a romance. He would rather know upfront, and he will never pressure you to change your mind. You lamia will still care for you in a non-romantic way without any negative emotions attached to the rejection.

*For an aromantic or asexual person, making those things known to your lamia will ensure that he doesn’t pursue anything. Again, a lamia respects a person’s sexuality and won’t try to change you. If you tell him that you’re aromantic, then the possibility of a romance with you just doesn’t exist for him, end of story.

*Just remember that honest communication is key!

[askvoidster]

Voidster tossed and turned, trying without success to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Varikai had left him to return to Hell, presumably. He wasn't sure where she had actually gone. His bed was massive and luxurious, but at times it seemed almost too big. Times like these reminded him of sleeping beside his mate, or between Bird and G. 

Ever since leaving the void, he had found it difficult to sleep alone, or even to be alone, ever. Stillness and silence agitated him beyond reason, drawing his thoughts to dark places that he preferred not to visit. Painful echoes of insanity, alone in the frigid and endlessly dark and empty void. Eventually shutting down entirely, until that unfortunate human girl had woken him from his eternal slumber.

Nobody had ever invited him to sleep beside them, which was understandable. Such activities required trust, and he rarely fostered this feeling in others. The human girl had quickly crumpled beneath him, her fragile gray soul fracturing even further every time he touched her. She had deeply loathed him, and he had gained nothing but slight predatory satisfaction from sleeping beside her.

Eventually his mate had come to expect his presence, but only because he had so often forced his way into the bed. Even then, he was only accepted because his mate’s preferred human had finally died. Despite his superior strength, intellect, and sexual prowess, he had always been his mate’s second option. Better than nothing, and eventually not even that.

After his mate, neither Bird nor G had seemed to desire him as a sleeping companion. He was expected to perform his duty as G’s Master, which had only ever been hurting him, even when Voidster hadn’t wanted to. Even to depths that had caused him such internal anguish that his wretched horns had sprouted as a reflection of his own self hatred. Constantly torn between the desires of the two males, he had only now begun to realize how deeply unhappy he had become while involved with them. The grieving had passed, and now that he looked upon the relationship with a critical eye, he knew that they had not deserved his devotion. G had valued only his violence, and when he dared show any sign of tender affection, he was rejected.

His feelings toward his own child, Nineveh, had cooled considerably as time went on. He held no malice for his daughter, but she had become nothing but a reminder of undeserved intimacy with a male who had eventually betrayed him, as every male he had ever cared for had. He spent less and less time with her, leaving her care to whatever female was available and at hand.

Now there was Varikai. The tantalizing, fascinating, frustrating hybrid who had initially caught his attention while he was still attached to G. Everything from her half-human soul to her surprising ingenuity and resourcefulness intrigued him. He had gravely underestimated her when they had first met, and she had passed into the hands of multiple others before they had finally crossed paths again. Now she belonged to Lucifer, whose power he could not hope to rival. 

She had convinced him to receive the mark of her master, who he had disliked on sight, despite the strange fascination he felt for the other male. His mistrust only grew after the violent, violating night of intimacy he had spent with the two of them. Still, Varikai had done nothing to betray his trust in her. If anything, she continued to embrace him, to entice him closer, to soothe him with affection and validation he had rarely ever known from others, and always lost eventually.

The moment she had created her game to tempt him, her flight through the forest while he had hunted her, he had realized that she understood him on a level he had assumed no female ever could. She catered to his ferality, delighted in his violence, and made no attempt to control or tame him. If anything, she seemed to prefer fanning the flames within him until they grew to a roaring, insatiable hunger, despite the consequences. No...because of the consequences. She embraced his sadism with no complaint, no feigned distaste, no petty game in which he was the villain. She wanted it, and did not pretend at anything else.

Restlessly, he rolled from the tangled sheets, pacing over to the windows that showed him whatever scenery he might desire. He usually kept them set to display a sparkling cityscape far below him, feeling content at the heart of humanity, unseen by most, knowing that he could descend among them and hunt whenever he wished. Tonight, the lights of the city brought no comfort. The bar below was quiet, most patrons either asleep or back in their own realms at such a late hour. This wasn’t where he wanted to be.

He went to his bedside table, opening the drawer and rummaging for something. It wasn’t long before he drew out the small vial of virgin’s blood that Varikai had given him so that he might also access the realm of Hell. He remembered the sigil he needed to draw, dipping his claws in the blood and drawing it with a deft surgeon’s touch on the floor of his room. Within moments the blood began to crackle with magic, the portal opening before him.

He had not done this alone, yet. The first time, Varikai had gone first, drawing him in after her. It was eerily similar to stepping into the void, and he instinctively rebelled against such a notion. But Varikai was on the other side. She must be. His aversion at this point was unneeded. He would not be trapped in the void ever again. Keeping his eyes open, he stepped into the portal and disappeared.

@sweetest-phoenix

[capricornus-rex]

Two Sides of the Coin (20 - End)

Chapter 20: You Fit Right in | Jidné Sheedra x Cal Kestis

Summary: Hell-bent on exacting revenge and retrieving the Holocron, the dreaded Darth Vader is now on the hunt for the young Jedi Knight, Cal Kestis. Under the assumption that he still possessed the artifact, while fueled by the intrigue of the boy’s strength and skill with the Force, the dark lord hires the bounty hunter, Jidné Sheedra, to track him down and have him delivered alive. However, the task becomes a trial for young Jidné, as she faces a conflict that tests her beliefs of a scarred past she had hidden for so long.

A/N: OH MY GOD YOU GUYS IT’S DONE!!! ;;A;; My longest fic to date and my very first fic with my own OC in it!! It’s been a wild, fun ride for me, but I’m really happy to see that many of you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💖 I might take another break maybe a day or two before I finally work on the requests in my inbox. My irl workload has been doubled being the temporary stand-in for the absentee assistant 😅 I’m holding up okay in the office so I’m fine, good thing I have good outlets for stress relief so I'm able to cope well ^w^ If you enjoyed the story and went with it until the very end, A BIG, BIG THANK YOU!! I can’t wait to share more of my dear Jidné and new Cal x Reader fics in the near future 😉😊

Also in AO3

Also tagging @berenilion​ @silver-is-in-too-many-fandoms​ @stellar-trinity​ @justtinfoley​ @peterwandaparker​ @calgasm​ @cal-jestis​ @superwarsofthrones​ @calsponchoemporium​ @fallenjedii​ @sweeetteaa​ @ayamenimthiriel​ @queen-destenie​

Tags: Fem OC, Jidné Sheedra, Force-Sensitive! Fem OC, Bounty Hunter! Fem OC, Jedi! Fem OC

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13 – 14 – 15 – 16 – 17 – 18 | Previous: Part 19 | Masterlist

20 of 20

Each Jedi blocked either side of the Sixth Sister’s double-edged saber, and—surprisingly so, for someone so lithe and slender—the youngsters were overwhelmed by the gradual weight taking over the both of them. If there was one thing that was both the Sixth Sister’s weakness and strength: it’s her temper. Her strength rooted from the vexation that Jidné’s taunt brought, then amplified by her tapping into the insidious fountain of power that is the Dark Side of the Force.

Gathering all of their collective might, Cal and Jidné finally pushed the Inquisitor away albeit a struggle to do so successfully. When the standing paces away from them, they afforded to catch their breaths.

“You might have hit a nerve right there, Jidné,”

“Go figure,” she shrugged casually.

The Sixth Sister’s entire personality changed—if they knew her initially as the suggestively mischievous Inquisitor, then it took a full 180 tunr for her to become a dark agent of the Sith, oozing with rage while flailing her saber against two redeeming Jedi Padawans.

Cal and Jidné put the tension between them aside just so they can properly work together in fighting against the Sixth Sister—whose strength was obviously better than theirs combined. This is where Jidné finally realizes what the Inquisitor meant by having better fights than them combined; tapping into the Dark Side of the Force could lead one to a path of many abilities some consider to be unnatural—and this mismatch of brute strength inside a lithe body was one of the many examples.

“Come on now, surely you can do better!” the Sixth Sister roared.

The pair of Jedi—as the battle against the frenzied Inquisitor dragged on—studied carefully her movements, strategized on how to exploit her weakness or her falters, and finally find an opening. While she’s still overly-strong for someone of her stature, the two Jedi studied the enemy’s form—from the widest swing down to the minutest flick of the wrist or change in the grip.

It was clear that the Sixth Sister isn’t bluffing—she never was, in the first place—and she had proven it otherwise through her prowess with her haloed saber.

The seconds felt like minutes as the three exchanged strikes, but the two Jedi held fast. They were especially persistent in getting the upper hand. Gradually out of steam rooting from the rage she uses as energy, the Sixth Sister’s movements have become sluggish—while Cal and Jidné afforded momentary breaths whenever they distanced themselves. Eventually, they got their own hits on her: Cal had jabbed her shoulder, thus leaving a red, burning crater on the flesh, and Jidné produced a searing gash from her abdomen to her thigh, cutting through the fabric of her right pant leg.

The Sixth Sister turned to the ring of Stormtroopers and Purge Troopers that surrounded them. She didn’t like the way the blank faces of their helmets stared at her. It’s like Vader had another set of eyes to watch over her every move, judging her, condemning her—and she had felt such a presence always looming behind. The fear that she’s been turning her back to has come to chase after her.

“Put those weapons to good use, imbeciles!” the Twi’lek Inquisitor snarled, obviously frustrated that her strength was close to outliving its usefulness.

It was the Purge Troopers who obeyed first—there were only two of them, however, they were the formidable Dual Wielder and the Electrohammer trooper. Finally, the Inquisitor afforded a moment to catch her breath and recover from the pain, stepping away while the Purge Trooper pair step in as her proxies.

“Well, finally!” the Dual Wielder snickered, the indigo electrical currents at the ends of his batons crackled with the same enthusiasm.

The Electrohammer Purge Trooper didn’t speak, instead asserted his dominance in this battlefield by pounding the floor with the pommel of his weapon—sending out violet tendrils of electricity sprawling on the floor and then die out seconds later.

“Dibs on the hammer guy,” Jidné blurted.

“Alright,” in a display of roguish cockiness, Cal rotates the center of his saber hilt—transforming his dual-edged saber into its split variant. “Then I’ll even this one out.”

Jidné stole a glimpse of Cal and smiled to herself, a nasal scoff coming out of her in reaction to his remark. Their arena just got wider as the Stormtroopers—who have a strange mix of admiration, envy, respect, and fear for the Purge Troopers as a whole unit—backed away and continued to watch while being on guard in case either Jedi tries anything—by their definition—bizarre.

“Pheh! You think having the same number of weapons as me would save you?!” the Dual Wielder.

“I can try!” Cal snapped back.

Underneath his dark helmet, the Dual Wielder Purge Trooper smirked—impressed by the Jedi’s snarky determination. He’d make his death as honorable as possible, the fighter in the jet black armor thought to himself as their distance hasn’t shrunk yet.

On the other hand, Jidné is up against the slow yet brutish slugger of a Purge Trooper. The oldest trick in her book would be taking advantage of his slowness, but seeing that this was a specially-trained soldier—particularly much more skillful than the standard Stormtrooper—underestimating his abilities would prove to be fatal for her.

Finally, each fighting pair touched weapons. The right saber would clash against the left-handed baton; the cleaving electrohammer nearly severed the blade of purple light. The surrounding Stormtroopers were actually glad that they have moments to spare by simply watching the fight ensue; however, majority of them were already preparing themselves for the Sixth Sister’s command on them to follow suit against the Jedi.

And speak of the devil, she did.

“Fire at will!” the Twi’lek roared at the white-armored riflemen, nearly straining her throat from her command.

One by one, they raise their blasters at the Jedi—who were excessively moving in all directions. It was difficult enough to get a clear shot, but the possibility of accidentally engaging into friendly fire would result to a beating from the Purge Troopers.

—–

Meanwhile, the Sixth Sister’s fear has been realized. While the Purge Troopers deal with the Jedi youngsters, her eyes wandered around the entire hangar—particularly at the windows of the bridges were commanders would keep post and watch from above. Only this time, it wasn’t an admiral keeping an eye on the Twi’lek.

A pair of Zabrak siblings, stand together in front of the window watching the skirmish below them. The eldest sister subtly kept her gaze on the hunched Twi’lek, anticipating whether or not she’ll return to action. On the other hand, her brother observed the dynamic of the fight—observing the Jedi pair, judging their forms and their coordination together.

“We might have a problem here,” the brother murmured, keeping it only within his sister’s earshot.

“I know,” she chided.

“Shall I inform him?”

In that moment, after the brother asked, by pure coincidence, it feels as though the Sixth Sister and the female Zabrak had locked eyes with one another, despite the tinted gray windows only showing a silhouette. The Zabrak woman’s shoulder flinched but suppressed it quickly by clenching her fists behind her back. The Twi’lek’s eyes remained on the commander center with the tinted window, incapable to see anything from her end but is being looked upon.

The brother verbally nudged his older sister with the same question.

The elder Zabrak sister paused for a moment, she made a quick sigh. Her eyelids dropped as she came to a short yet difficult deliberation with herself. She inched her head to her brother and gestured a small nod to him, prompting him to turn tail and leave the room towards the unspoken yet known destination.

Much later, the Stormtroopers joined the fray—but only at a safe distance—there were brave ones who dared to squeeze the triggers. Some missed, a few found a different mark, whilst a handful got banked by the Jedi—the latter slowly thinned out their numbers as Jidné and Cal traded blows with the Purge Troopers. This tactic of theirs continued until the Stormtrooper commanders donning the red-orange pauldrons motivated their men to continue attacking; the Scout Troopers who wielded batons eventually joined into the very complicated whirlwind of blades.

“I’ve had enough of this!” Jidné bellowed, kicking away a Scout Trooper about to attack her from her 6 o’ clock while waiting to catch her saber she just flung to her Purge Trooper.

Jidné crunched a button on her gauntlet and a tiny light glowed under the keycap. Even though the battle grunts, the threatening snicker from the Purge Troopers, and the blaster fire from the Stormtroopers drowned out any other sound in the hangar—the Crescent Scarab revving and warming up its engines prevailed.

Everybody—even the Twi’lek—stopped to turn their attention to the growing sound of a turbine’s whir. Jidné smirked when she noticed lights flickering in the cockpit—essentially bringing the Scarab to life—and the hydraulic steam sputtering out of the landing gears as they slowly fold into their respective hatches.

“There’s a good ol’ girl when I need it!” Jidné celebrated to herself.

While the enemy was distracted the freighter being remotely controlled by the girl, Cal and Jidné took them by surprise: Cal sent all troopers flying to the ground, flat on their spines, whilst Jidné darted towards the completely disoriented Purge Troopers lying down on the cold, black tile—the girl caught Cal’s second saber in her free hand and then drove both weapons in her hands into the jet-black stomachs of the Purge Troopers.

“NO!!” the Sixth Sister screeched, her mouth stretching into a roundness that showed off her fangs. Her awe-stricken eyes shared the same wideness as her mouth as she watched the Purge Troopers get eradicated by the blades of the supposed bounty hunter.

In the middle of the action, Jidné’s remote had commanded the Scarab’s armaments—an ion cannon on both sides—to turn and aim its barrels at the scene of the fight. At the corner of her eye, Jidné saw this and dashed towards the unaware Cal.

“CAL, GET DOWN!!” Jidné screeched as she tackles him out of the possible radius of the skirmish.

The Inquisitor saw it coming and physically dodged an enormous bullet—two at that—but the Stormtroopers weren’t as fortunate as the three of them.

Seconds after the shots have been fired, Jidné scrambled up to her feet—dragging Cal along with her.

“Come on… Come on!” she urged frantically.

Cal ran in front, Jidné continued to keep herself close behind his back. The redhead sprung from the hangar floor and grabbed onto the door frame of the Scarab’s entry ramp. All the color in his face drained when he saw that Jidné wasn’t behind him anymore.

The Sixth Sister had hindered Jidné in her tracks. The Twi’lek inflicts Force pull on the girl’s legs, causing her to stumble and make a desperate move to crawl away while her hands are still free.

“JIDNÉ!!!”

“MAN THE SHIP!!” cried Jidné as she squirms away from the Twi’lek.

“But…”

“JUST GO!!!”

Cal rushed to the cockpit and witnessed Jidné face off the Sixth Sister one last time before they make their escape. The dashboard dazed him for a few seconds but the redhead pulled it together and began flailing his arms across the control panel before putting his hands on the wheel.

Jidné took ID off of her person, commanded him to join Cal—even though the little droid was vigorously objecting the idea.

“Come on, ID, you have to help Cal and BD-1 in there! Do it for me!”

The probe droid lowed, but his trill was drowned out by the sound of the ship warming up its thrusters. He zipped towards the entry ramp that Cal intentionally kept open and finally rejoined the boy and his droid.

“You think that I’m going to let you go so easily!?” the Twi’lek boiled with a rage as hot as the red of her skin.

Inch by inch, she hauled the Jedi girl towards her and farther away from her own freighter. The floor squeaked as she continues to be dragged against her will, clawing the surface did very little to help her. The malicious grin on her face grew for each pull she made on Jidné.

“Don’t even bother squirming away!” hissed the Sixth Sister, using her other arm to inflict the same ability on Jidné—this time on her upper body. “I will not be the exact same failure as the Second and Ninth Sisters!!”

Halfway in, she brandished her saber with her good arm, closing in on Jidné.

“Now, your Jedi boyfriend’s gonna watch you die—and there’s nothing you can do about it!”

The female Zabrak who continued to watch slightly tensed when she watched the Sixth Sister get the upper hand: her eyebrows furrowed, her hand clutching the other behind her back tightened with anticipation, and held all the air in her lungs awaiting for some sort of satisfaction from this suspense.

“Come on, Jidné!” Cal spoke through the clench of his teeth.

But both the Zabrak spectator and the Twi’lek were caught off-guard by Jidné’s next move.

Jidné headbutted the Inquisitor hard on the forehead, disorienting the enemy and consequently losing her focus on the girl—who has afforded enough freedom to move around and retaliate with a Force push strong enough to stagger the enemy.

“What?!” the Twi’lek gasped upon witnessing her would-be victim break free.

Without wasting a single second, Jidné called her lightsaber to her hand and the purple blade obediently emitted out of the hilt by the touch of the switch.

“I don’t plan on dying—not here, not now!!” declared Jidné.

The Twi’lek snickered, “My, my, you have the pride of a bounty hunter but not the grit of one.”

“No,” Jidné slightly shakes her head. “I have the grit of a Jedi!”

The Sixth Sister and Jidné engaged in one last duel. Cal had already prepped up the ship and kept the Scarab warm, he carefully maneuvered the ship to face the exit of the hangar, but maintained a hovering altitude for Jidné until she makes a run for it.

Jidné did not spare any ounce of her might in battling the Twi’lek.

The rough-and-toughness of a bounty hunter manifested within Jidné as she cleaved her way through the Inquisitor’s defenses; but her elusiveness had the fluidity that of a Jedi, denying her enemy to deal a single hit on her and instead overwhelming the Twi’lek with attacks. The latter has started to regain her strength and finally equal herself to the young Jedi she’s fighting, but Jidné already has gotten a headstart in stealing the upper hand.

With their blades locked on to one another, the Twi’lek was taken aback by Jidné’s strength—it was something that she had never witnessed from any Jedi before—but the pain of her injuries had kicked in and betrayed her once more, slowly bringing her to submission as Jidné shifts all her weight on her blade.

The Inquisitor staggered as she receives a kick in the abdomen from Jidné, in the next blink of an eye—she didn’t feel its first moments—she felt the searing sting birthed by a lightsaber’s edge, cauterizing her flesh into an ugly curdle of dried blood on the wound’s surface. The pain caused her to submit to her knees; for good measure, Jidné pushed her away using the Force.

Before she was able to make her escape, the door behind the Sixth Sister whipped open and revealed Darth Vader—who has decided to take the matter into his own hands. Jidné felt her stomach drop to the soles of her feet upon seeing the Sith lord appear and take the Sixth Sister’s place in the duel.

“JIDNÉ, COME ON!!!” Cal barked, standing at the edge of the entry ramp waiting for her.

Cal’s cry to her snapped her out of frozen state caused by the fear of Vader who was seething with an immeasurable fury and unquenchable ferocity.

Jidné ran—as fast as her legs can carry her.

Her lungs felt sore as she caught her breath in every step. Never has she ever been so afraid to look back over her shoulder. Cal had reached out his hand for her and she extended her hand. Their fingers joined flimsily but unlatched as the Scarab continued its fly-by. Jidné pushes herself one last time and Cal caught her arm, gripping it tighter than never before and pulled her into the freighter.

“LET’S MOVE!!!” Jidné threw herself of the pilot’s seat and maneuvered the ship out of the hangar. Cal joined her in the co-pilot seat by her side.

The Scarab darted out of the hangar, the remaining Stormtroopers, maintenance crew, and deck commanders threw themselves out of the freighter’s path for their lives. Their departure was salt to the Sixth Sister’s wounds, watching them fly out of the volcanic wasteland greatly frustrated her—but also made her fear for her life.

Complete, sheer silence was the only thing that the Scarab seems to have left behind when it disappeared in the sky as it made the jump to lightspeed. Darth Vader’s cape billowed in the hot breeze that the Scarab’s mufflers blew as it left. Meanwhile, the Sixth Sister’s heart was rapidly beating—as if savoring its last few moments of doing so, because she knew perfectly well that there’s no escape from the Sith lord’s wrath.

“I almost feel sorry for her,” the Zabrak brother halfheartedly sighed, his older sister didn’t take kindly to the remark and decided to ignore him.

“My lord…!!” she cracked, disposing all of her pride and bringing herself further to the ground, as if praying to a deity. “Forgive me! Let me pursue them! I am perfectly fit to—!”

Vader raised a hand partially clasped. Her terrified stammering annoyed him; however, her voice persisted in uttering the words “Forgive me” through her gagging until a single crack of bone silenced her fully.

“You are forgiven, Sixth Sister.”

The dark lord of the Sith gazed at the now empty hangar, following the trail of the Scarab upon its departure. He stares at the grey sky that watches over his stronghold. Beneath that blank, emotionless demeanor is an anger that boils hotter than the magma that flows under the foundation of his castle.

—–

The Crescent Scarab cruises through the system where the hyperspace jump has led to.

The two Jedi finally had the opportunity to relax and catch their breaths. The lone captain of the Scarab sets the ship on auto-pilot mode as she waits for the adrenaline to subside.

Machine hums, droid trilling and beeping were the only sounds that filled the ship. There was still an awkward silence between the two Jedi. The girl was still unable to explain herself—the negotiation, her motives before and after she had the change of heart—even though she’s got a thousand words to say.

Jidné slouched on her seat, elbow propped on the armrest, and her forehead resting on the palm of her hand. Cal watched the slow rising and falling of her shoulders, the subtle shifts of her position in the chair, and watched how her eyes shifted while staring at the ceiling of her vessel.

Her arm reached out to the navigation computer on the dashboard and encoded a combination of numbers and letters. Shortly after that, the screen flashed a miniature preview of the planet that represented the grid coordinates she’s typed.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home,”

“You mean, we are going home?”

Obviously taken aback, Jidné turned her head to Cal to reaffirm what he meant with his emphasis on the word. She dismissed it when he didn’t get the hint in the first moment and resumed control on the ship. Cal volunteered to co-pilot with her and discovered that it was not really that different with the Mantis’s own controls.

ID-3 and BD-1’s collective beeping startled the Jedi youngsters and broke the silence. Jidné and Cal listened to their excited droids.

“From where we are now, we’re just an hour away from Ombari,” Jidné translated. “Wouldn’t want Cere and the others worry about you, huh?”

Cal detected a melancholic tone in her voice, the smile that she flashed in front of BD-1 quickly melted as soon as she faced the windshield again. He easily felt the bittersweet aura that she emitted as he studied her staring into space and the planets that they flew by. The redhead recalled her words when she set him free.

“Escape now, hate me later.”

He wanted to prove her wrong—prove that he doesn’t hate her anymore. How could he hate her if she’s practically saved their lives from a new Inquisitor and Darth Vader himself?

His eyes trailed to her fingers fiddling on the dangling accessory strand strung on the saber’s pommel. He notices that her fingers were staying on strand that he crafted for her, her thumb pushed each bead as if counting them one by one.

“Jidné,” he uttered, breaking the silence between them.

She turned to him, waiting for him to finish. Her fingers still playing around Cal’s flower beads.

“I want to thank you again,”

Forcing a weak smile, she sighed. “No need to thank me.”

“No, really, you saved my life. I was trying to make peace with the fact that I’ll die once they start trying to get anything out of me about the Holocron… until you came along.”

Silence again. There was nothing Jidné could think of to say back.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“When you said that you were gonna hand me over, until you decided not to anymore,”

She looked away, searching for the right words in the stars.

“Yeah, I did mean that. I simply didn’t think it was right anymore because, well... It’s…” she trailed off, tucking herself in her seat and drawing her leg up to the chair for her to hug it. “It’s a feeling I can’t explain. But you’ve every right to hate me because I didn’t tell you the truth sooner—I hate myself for the very same reason too.”

“No, Jidné, I don’t hate you,”

Her lips parted and she bit them, her grip on the steering wheel made the skin over her knuckles turn white as bone to hide the trembling. Cal’s only response was a deep sigh—he sensed relief wash over her, but it wasn’t enough to ease the guilt anchoring her heart.

They eventually arrived back in Ombari. They did so with the same awkward silence that never seemed to leave them until either of them swallows their pride. When they’ve cut through the atmosphere, the first thing Jidné did was search the Mantis’s signature on her radar; when a ping appeared on her screen, she steered the Scarab close to the other ship’s location. From the windshield, both of them saw Cere, Greez, and Merrin standing outside the Mantis as they watched the Scarab commencing its landing cycle.

When Jidné’s freighter touched Ombari’s soil once again, the crew’s gazes pierced through the thick glass of the windshield and Jidné couldn’t look away like some sort of self-imposed penance for her guilt. She leaned away and let herself sink into the cushion of the backrest, arms crossed and expecting Cal to move in her periphery.

“They’re waiting for you,” she muttered.

Cal didn’t budge. He remains seated on the co-pilot seat next to hers. They exchanged glances with one another and he finally stands up and leaves the cockpit. Jidné swiveled her chair, following Cal as he walks up to the door; she took a few seconds before following him there, discovering that he’s just standing in front of it—as if he had no intention to open it.

“You’re home, Cal,” urged Jidné who’s standing behind him, leaning against the wall opposite to him and having her arms crossed together. “Go on.”

She watched him raise his hand to the control panel, expecting him to press the button and walk away.

The exit ramp hissed open. Warm, gentle sunlight pooled into the vessel—dramatically different from the harsh heat that they were met with when they arrived to Mustafar. Cal stepped out of the ship, basking into the late afternoon sun, Jidné herself went out to fill her lungs with Ombari’s fresh air and warm light.

Cal reconciled with his crew. They welcomed him with hugs that included everyone—even BD-1—and then Greez’s “Where have you been?!” standing out of the indistinct yet cheerful chatter. Jidné watched the modest celebration from the doorway of her ship—the sight put a smile on her face, even if she had no part in it.

As she was preparing to disappear, going back inside her ship, she was stopped by the call of her name. She turned around to find Cal walking back up to her. He snatched both of her hands—taking her by surprise—when he got close.

“Where are you going?”

“Anywhere, I suppose,” she shrugged.

“I’d still want you around, Jidné. You don’t have to be alone. It’d be like what we talked about before—you and me, the Scarab and the Mantis. Together.”

There he goes again. Jidné sighed in her mind. Puppy eyes in the color of jade shined in front of her, she can feel his fingers running across the smooth skin of her hands.

She sighs, “Cal, I don’t belong here, not after what I’ve done to you.”

“They know.”

That left Jidné into a stammering mess, unsure whether or not to explain her story to the crew, but Cal kept reassuring her—in the kindest tone she’s heard from anyone ever—that he didn’t leave out her effort to save him in his story. She peeked over his shoulder to find the expressions of each crew member standing by the Mantis.

She chuckled humorlessly, “You don’t mind having a bounty hunter hopping into your party, huh?”

“Hey, adds up to the variety,”

Both of them shared a bashful chuckle and their foreheads touched; Cal hoisted a curled finger to Jidné’s cheek, brushing away a loose strip of hair that fell in front of her face and then caressing her cheek. He saw her face flush with color, he could feel the warmth burning underneath her skin. When their gazes locked at each other, time felt like it froze in place, and Cal slowly closed in on her.

Cal gently brushed his lips against Jidné’s. She was warm and soft. He dared to dip his tongue to explore her mouth, finally giving himself the guilty pleasure of her taste. The tip of her tongue ran across the tiny scar that ran across his bottom lip, feeling the slight indent on his mouth. When he withdrew, he followed it up by planting a kiss on her forehead before leveling his face with hers.

“Glad you didn’t stop me this time,” he whispered, the tips of their noses playfully touching.

“I didn’t plan to,”

Cal pulled her in close to him, the closest that both of them have ever gotten with each other, he wrapped his arms around the small of her back, lifted her an inch upward to the point that she had to stand tiptoed.

“Now you’re home with me too, Jidné,”

He whispers as he buried his face into the crook of her neck, in turn, he felt Jidné embracing him back—arms hooked around his back and her hands clung onto his shoulders, her cheek resting against his chest, and a sigh of the greatest relief escapes her mouth as she lets those words sink into her.

[setternine-a]

NAME:   Kageyama Tobio ╱ SPECIES:   Shapeshifter ╱ AGE:   21 years old ╱ OCCUPATION:   Professional volleyball player �� ABILITIES:   Transforming between wolf / human at will, acute sense of smell & sight, physical prowess, paralyzing gaze, enticing howl

     On two legs, he's a volleyball prodigy. With all-rounded skills, he's renowed for his control and strength. A quick-thinker, focused, driven by instinct. It contrasts with the image he displays outside of the court. Social cues confuse him, as if he doesn't truly belong. What comes so easily to others, proves itself a struggle to the young setter. Indeed, the life of a human hasn't always been his reality. No ━ Tobio was born a wolf. A rare birth somewhere between the mountains of Japan. They were thought to be extinct, but the canid family he was born into wasn't written in the records of history books. They were fantasy, a legend ━ a long forgotten lineage of SHAPESHIFTERS.

     On four legs, he's a feared alpha. Powerful, resilient, respected for his hunting and leadership skills. A characteristic that differentiates him from the common wolf is that a purebreed cannot have blue eyes ━ a shapeshifter, however, just might. They reflect a deep, ocean-like hue during the calm of the day, and shine in a blinding blue light at night. The few animals that have survived his attacks, both mystical and common creatures alike, say that it's Tobio's eyes one should fear the most ━ they are, quite literally, stunning. His gaze binds his victims to the ground from the moment their eyes meet, giving him just about enough of an opening to sink his sharp teeth into the flesh of their exposed necks and quickly maul them out of their misery. His body is a perfect black from snout to tail, coated by a thick and soft fur to protect him from the harsh winters of the land.

     His family name, Kageyama, is widely known throughout all territories. Those wolves were indeed like shadows cast over the mountains, high and low, expanding their reign beyond the horizons, farther than the eye could see. Unlike their reputation, however, they were quite benevolent. Sharing the carcass of a fresh kill and allowing lost souls to drink from their ponds, though it seems that fear still prevails over gratitude for the amount of kindness his family could offer. Tobio was often found wandering the forests in his human form ━ usually considered a display of weakness and submission by shapeshifters, who mainly choose to turn into humans only when walking into two-legged territory. Tobio refused to be bound by such rules and traditions. His trained human body is a proud achievement, and so is his wolf form.

     To avoid unwanted attention, shapeshifters tend to stray from taking flashy roles in human society. Tobio was one of the few exceptions. He had taken a liking to team sports when watching men from a distance, figuring the practice would aid him in his own journey as a pack leader. Before realizing it, he was branded a prodigy, receiving offers to play for all kinds of companies who owned a volleyball team. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to retreat and start anew somewhere else, but part of him wanted to see just how far one could go. Unfortunately, his duties as an alpha couldn’t be so easily pushed aside. After knowing of his newly-found obsession, Tobio’s pack forsook him. The young wolf fought to retrieve his position, but ultimately lost to their new leader upon noticing how fervently his former pack mates howled for his defeat, his emotional vulnerability being enough of a weakness to give his opponent a cue to strike a victory blow.

     Tobio barely escaped with life, opting to live mainly as a human. At least once a week, he visits the mountains that were once his home, allowing his lonely howls to pierce the silence of the night.

TRIVIA

Once, Tobio ate a chunk of uncooked meat in front of his teammates during dinner and they rushed him to the hospital. He was fine and very confused.

Animals can sense what he truly is and are naturally scared in his presence. Tobio likes them because they remind him of home.

Tobio is very polite and energetic, and despite his yearning for friends ( the human equivalent of a pack, he assumes ), he tries not to get deeply involved with others.

[paradife-loft]

ahh, also some thoughts inspired by that last gifset....

iirc in that scene when he shot the rock, Wen Ning also shot the arrow when he had his eyes closed?? and so like, it’s not explicitly stated anywhere but I think it’s a p reasonable inference that all the really batshit feats of archery prowess in this show are just as much displays of cultivation talent as physically being good with a bow, yeah. Wen Ning is able to shoot the falling rock with his eyes closed because he could sense the energies in the rock and target that, or is able to enhance his hearing, or a combination of those. (there’s probably other methods that could be used to achieve the same effect, but I feel like time/plane manipulation might be a little beyond a generally less-skilled 14-15 year old? so yeah.)

and the idea of sensing the energies in the rock also makes me think of, perhaps this is something he already has a natural affinity for due to his experience with the yin iron/goddess statue? if a portion of his spiritual consciousness resides in this natural-magical geological formation, it makes sense to me that being more attuned to energies in the earth, above other sources, could be a strength that he cultivates and an avenue for branching out into other, less intuitive areas for him.

(also - something something seismic activity around Heavenly Nightless City, as a spiritual energy source that plays a role in a lot of Qishan Wen training? which is where he would have done most of his learning, even if ofc Wen Qing also gives him a solid grounding in Dafan Wen medicinal cultivation.)

mm, and on a slightly different note as well - I love the idea of WWX and Wen Ning practising archery and giving each other pointers to improve their skills when they’re at Gusu together. perhaps Wen Ning is even the one who originally shows Wei Wuxian how to start shooting targets with his eyes covered? >:3 (it would certainly be.... a minor redemption of the unfortunate pre-Phoenix Mountain hunt scene, for one thing - the irony of using a technique initially taught to him by Wen Ning, to force an end to the event endangering the lives of the Wen POWs.)

[rzeqvrtz]

                                                      ~*{ the wings }*~

wing span: formally 25 ft | currently 12 ½ ft | before Raymond was horribly mutilated and tortured — resulting in the removal of his right wing — his wings could spread to a massive width that aligned perfectly with his towering height and hulking frame. Once held with pride, Raymond rarely spreads his single wing except in moments of danger or adrenaline, saddened and ashamed by his loss ten years ago. 

color: raymond's wings are that of a ‘Io — a raptor known commonly as the Hawaiian hawk — and are a dappled, speckled mix of white, cream, brown, dark brown, and almost black. his wings darken in color at the edges of each individual feather, and from time to time, the white in his massive wings can be seen tinged a dark red color due to his frequent battles. before his mutilation, the coloration of his wings were almost perfectly symmetrical with one another. of course, now that he only has his left wing, this unique coloration can no longer be seen. raymond’s remaining wing is covered in scars, both from battle and torture. 

glamour use: pre mutilation, always on display | post mutilation, always glaumored | before his wing was ripped off, raymond always had his wings proudly on display and rarely hid them from the eyes of others. they were his pride and joy, and he was renowned for their strength and prowess. after his right wing was taken from him — and since joining the resistance — raymond glamours his single wing, half in shame and half in attempt to fit in more with his new human peers. few people have seen his wing since the traumatic event, but he will drop his glamour in moments of heated battle and anger. 

accessories: n/a

flight: raymond was one of the most impressive flyers in the wild hunt for nearly five centuries. he used them as an extension of himself in battle, often able to immobilize enemies with their strength. despite his massive wing span and body size, raymond was once an extremely fast flyer and was more agile than many of the other wild hunt fae. raymond misses his ability to fly more than anything.