#firestrike

[misanthropic-phobic]

Sorry, I'm silly

Extra!!

vv

[peopleholdingnerfguns]

"Matrix means mayhem."

[terracomets]

an attack for tigersunii!! wanted to do one more big piece and these two lovebirds from her comic leafheart's mistake were my targets ... love them muchly

[fluffyartbl0g]

So I just read some of your speedrun time travel AU comics and I have to ask. In the first one where Luffy wakes up young is that a homestuck reference?

you and me should kiss. THANK YOU!!!!!! NO ONES POINTED IT OUT YET AND IT WAS GREATLY UPSETTING ME!!!!! OMG THANK U SO MUCH!!!! I CAN FINALLY DIE NOW YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!

[odessastone]

[solradguy]

The guilty gear council has convened with the overwatch council to decide your fate. They said you gotta be playin more strive dude. You always gotta be Strivin, yknow? It’s only a difference of 879 hours! That’s only 36 days! They aren’t mad at you bro, just a little disappointed it’s over a month.

A.B.S! Always be Strivin!

What if I convert the hours I've spent scanning and translating GG materials..... Surely the 8 months spent on Artworks of Guilty Gear X 2000-2007 will balance it back out, right?? Don't send me to Overwatch hell!!!!!!!!!

[swiftsmash]

Join us for thrilling magic battles in this classic pinball-like retro 16-bit SNES video game! 🎮

[thedragonsprincecomic]

Psydora and Prince Firestrike and his man Sungang |Season 1 Pt1 Episode 7 “Ayumu, Yumu”

[luckykdp7]

Longplay of FireStriker

[comicaurora]

You've mentioned before about how Dainix growing up in a society of all magic-users was difficult for him, is there anything you think is interesting about him adapting to that surrounding? Like, does he carry around means of manually creating fire with him (like flint); and is creating fire via anything other than magic something most other ignans would even know? What kind of things can most of his peers do that he has to ask for help for or find other ways of making it work, aside from general fire-blasts?

(Also, as a disabled writer, I think fantasy/sci-fi disabilities are an underutilized goldmine of worldbuilding & characterizarion, and I really like the way you integrate it into Aurora.)

I asked myself that when I was choreographing the Zombie Dungeon Funtime Adventure! When they lost the light source I knew Dainix would need to replace it in order to navigate in the dark without Falst, but I concluded he actually wouldn't be carrying firestrikers. Even if he personally couldn't magically create fire, he'd always been part of a team of people who could. Instead, he had to strike sparks off the wall using his metal knife. Something he'll definitely prepare for in the future! (Falst always carries firestrikers, but Dainix doesn't know that and wasn't about to go digging in his pockets)

Fire magic the way most Ignans use it is fairly utilitarian, but some people specialize in useful ways - some Ignans can gain bursts of speed or altitude by kicking out fire jets from their feet, or manipulate fire's brightness and color in precise ways to create simple illusions. And even without the expectation of specialization, being unable to do even basic fire magic basically means Dainix always has one fewer weapon than his peers - no emergency last-ditch flashbang moves, no covering fire, no way to do field repairs on damaged metal or glass tools. It's part of why he's always so careful with his equipment, and why he's such a precise and observant fighter - he has no room for error and has to work harder to feel like he's measuring up.

[misanthropic-phobic]

Firestrike relationship charts ^-^

(+some sexuality headcanons!)

[threepandas]

Bad End: Heroic Collection

New Haven wasn't a major metropolis. Some big city like Delhi or Tokyo, Jakarta and the like. It was big for the area. A major hub for commerce and crime on a local scale. But Nationally? INTERNATIONALLY? Not even close. No matter WHAT the great ambitions that haunted the Mayor, late at night, may tell you.

So, really, there was NO fucking reason for any A Listers to be here.

NONE.

Our biggest exports were fancy fucking jams and that one fashion line I couldn't pronounce. We had honest to God Jam festivals in the fall. It was a circuit, Mayor gave out awards. There were pies. Firestrike always ate himself sick. Agent always laughed at him. I... Fuck, my head was ringing. I'd hit that last building HARD. Was pretty sure I tasted blood. Not... not sure if that was because I busted something in my mouth or...

Over my comms, I could hear my teammates fighting. Trying to hail the Alliance. If we could... could just hold on...

Long enough for the major players to GET here?

Then what? I had to wonder. Staring at a burning bus in front of me. It was half way lodged through Mrs. Brahimi's shop. Please, God, let her and the workers have got out all right. I'd been there just this morning. She made me those stuffed flatbread things. Said I was still too skinny. Should rest more.

I use the twist remains of a book return to lever myself to my feet. Book..? Oh. I'm by the library. Which..? Fuck. Main one. That's city hall.

Smoke rises around the city I've lived in all my life. Fires everywhere. I'm supposed... supposed to be a hero. But I can barely stand. Feel sick as the world sways. My body is one big bruise. Gotta... gotta keep fighting. Helping. Save people.

In the distance, I can hear screams.

I'm coming. I promise. I'm coming!

I make my screaming body move. Stumble. Catch myself. Then keep going. The hiss and spit in my ear tells me that my communicator is probably half broken. I don't try it, in case that breaks it the rest of the way. Wrench doors from half crushed cars to free trapped civilians. Lever wreckage, hold it with trembling limbs, so people can crawl to safety. Run. Please, god, RUN!

We aren't strong enough.

He's here, The Collective.

A hivemind super threat. Alien supposedly. So far above my team's pay grade we know basically nothing. The kind of thing we were expected to never realistically see. We're nobody's. Fuck it, we're HAPPY being nobody's. It meant we got to go home each night. Didn't face The Horrors. Like him.

He CONSUMES.

Hungry. Trying to fill some void that's never going to fill. Supposedly a planet eater. Gutting worlds for resources, materials, to continue his own expansion. Now fixated on Earth for it's continued refusal to die. For its defiance. Some A+ sort of monster, to our high C rank. At best.

Fuck... we dealt with HUMANS. Fought gimmicks and tech. Little fish in our little pond. Now this tsunami was bringing the ocean to US and it was all we could do, to swim and survive.

I leaned against a half smashed car. Braced myself against it, more then anything, then started pulling pot shots. I... I was gonna black out soon. With a concussion like this? Probably wasn't gonna be waking up. Especially if those THINGS found me before a friendly did.

All across the city I called home, The Collective had Drones tearing the place apart.

They'd almost be pretty. Tall, elegant, androgynous lookin, supermodel twinks in battle armor. Drones apparently covered their lower face. I'd know the "commander" by their uncovered face and "use of adornments". Useful! Except they could fucking SWITCH on command, so you have to take out ALL of them.

Because they weren't a collection of different soldiers.

THEY weren't a THEY. That? Was a fucking HE. Singular.

You don't consider each of your individual cell as people. Each follicle of hair. Why would HE? God damn it. It was like fighting a giant. Against Gods. They just kept coming. And my ammo? Was not endless.

Worse. The drones had stopped looking. I don't know WHAT they had been searching for. But now? They started to converge on me. On city hall. Fuck. I... I couldn't even really stand anymore. My vision was blurring. I knew for a FACT my shots were shit. But dense as they were crowding? It seemed enough. Kept them back.

Three cartridges left.

Two.

Only one more...

The Alliance was coming. Half my team had gone silent. I could hear tears in the voice of Tech, back in the office. They had our life signs. Built into our armor. I could only imagine what mine looked like. Prayed, like I hadn't since I was a kid, that the others were just unconscious. Safe somewhere.

Someplace this nightmare couldn't reach them.

I doubted I was that lucky.

Tech was begging me to hold on. Giving me ETAs. And... And I was out of bullets. The block half full of Drones. I had escrima sticks. A fucking tazer. It would have to do. Sticks came out, as I swayed to my feet. No longer letting the car behind me hold my weight. What's a little... let's say, hundred or so, on one? Eh?

Bring your friends. Let's make it a fair fight.

I'll go easy on you.

Bravado until the end. Remember, never know who's watching. You are a symbol. Before you are a man, you are their HERO. Don't you DARE let them down. Even if you die. Especially when you die. B.. Bravado until the end. Plaste on a smirk and say a one-liner, we got hope to shoulder.

I took down about three Drones... I think... before the rest swarm me.

Feel hands pinning my arms. My torso. Everything. A weak point between the panels is ripped open. High grade military fabrics doing jack shit against their impossible strength. The distinct pinch tug of a needle in my skin. Cold spreading. The sudden exhaustion of a powerful sedative. I... am gone.

Time... is blurry.

Now and Then running together in my senses. My brain. The concussion doesn't help. Or... or didn't? It feels... gone? Gone-ing? Oh... look, sky. Clouds. Pretty. Wasn't I standing? I am standing. No... no being dragged. Chair? Not chair. Stairs? Carried. Pretty window..... where am I? Fuzzy. Bluzzy fuzzy purple beans~ he he he~ oh! Those are the... watch'ma call it! Gucci chairs! That rich lady had! Neat. Plurble.

Ouch! Why'd you pi...?

My mouth is dry as sand. But suddenly? I am hyper aware. The floating drift of my mind VIOLENTLY gone, replaced by alerted and focus. Drones surround me in a vaguely familiar hallway. Shit. I think it's that rich designer's place. My helmet is off, but my mask is still in place, thank god. The Drones stand far to close for my liking. Their many eyes, amused.

So glad to entertain, you Fuck.

I am frog marched down the hall. Damn near dragged. They were too smart to restrain me with my own cuffs, unfortunately. So my hands are bound behind my back with something tight I can't get a good feel off. Bastard secured it to my belt, too. Great.

The Collective's "Face" is surrounded by what must be every jewel in the city. Piled high in some vague sorting pattern I refuse to even try and comprehend. He's trying on rings. One on every finger, to see what matches his skin tone. Looks good. Already, he has a pearl stud and some earrings he's decided he likes. He looks up as I'm dragged in, and I realize immediately what one of "a few other differences" between him and the Drones are...

It's the EYES,

They GLOWED.

Metallic almost. Nearly neon. They reflected the light in a way the Drones simply did not. It made their face... horrificly predatory. Made for WATCHING, somehow. Unnerving and haughty. Beautiful still, but uncomfortable to be near.

Sitting up on a table that basicly swallows the room, dead center like a show piece on display, with one long leg tossed over the other and no fucking shirt on? The Face looks almost carefully, artfully, staged. To maximize some "haughty yet coy, alien prince who maybe wants to fuck you" shtick.

Does... Does he not realize I'm NOT one of the usual opponents? I mean. Flattered at the "join me! The Darkside has sex and cookies!" set up. Always fun. Classic, really. But, like? I would be... at BEST... a solidly MID goon.

Also "NO".

Gonna preemptively throw that out there. Maybe some expletives for flavor. Suggest someplace sunless to shove it. SOLID "No". Good try, though.

Around me, the Drones are shaking with silent laughter. Staring down at me, their pale eyes dancing with amusement. It's creepy as hell. Unnerving to be the center of attention like this. For this many eyes, utterly in synch, to surround and watch my every twitch. Act fascinated and amused, like I'm some little animal performing tricks.

The Face hasn't dropped his Seduction to the Darkside routine. If anything, he seems delighted by the defiance. Which... yeah, that tracks. It's why he's harrasing out planet to begin with. That one's definitely on me. So, better question? Not that I'm not glad and all? Why the FUCK am I not dead.

"And lose my HERO? Perish the thought~" drawles The Collective, the posture light and lazy, even as something dangerous threaded itself through their tone. It sounded... possessive. But that couldn't be right. "I would NEVER do such a thing! In fact, we are going to have to be far more careful with that little processor of yours. Far too fragile. Just the one, too. Horrifying, really."

Thanks. Just what every guy loves to really make 'im feels special. Insults.

Fucker.

More laughter from all around me. I grit my teeth. Come oooon, Alliance. Where the hell ARE you guys!? Could REALLY use a rescue! The hands holding me still are drifting. Fucking handsy. Damn near stroking even as they hold me immobile. They're looking for the clasps and buckles on my armor. Have already found the obvious ones. Fingers oh so casually drifting over, to grip, flex, and tear them apart.

I do NOT like how loose my armor is starting to feel. Barely able to hold on. Protect me. Limited as that protection may be. I think I'm developing a horrifying empathy for clams. Crustaceans in general. Anything that gets slowly pried from the safety of it's shell, too certain doom.

The Face casually tosses the rings he was playing with aside. Tens of thousands of dollars bouncing off to God only knows where. He slides from the table to stand. Shit. He's huge.

The androgynous twink supermodel thing he has going on? Fucking LIES. Twists your perception of how, EXACTLY, strong the Face body IS. He clears seven feet easily, is muscled in that distinctly "never see me coming until it's too late" sort of way all the ninja types are.

The tattoos. It's the FUCKING tattoos! They give the illusion that he's slimmer then he actually is.

It HIDES MUSCLE MASS.

I can't tell if that's vanity or strategy and I hate it. Glare as he sashays towards me. Hips rolling in that elegant catwalk strut. I'm forced to my knees. Because of course I am. How ELSE will the bastard loom and gloat? Though really, weak as I currently feel, it's more that the Drones holding me up? Stop doing that. My knees more or less just give up on their own.

"Like what you see? You're staring so intently~" He mocks. If he were being genuine, I'd call it teasing. Flirtatious. But I know better. "It IS a pretty body, isn't it? I worked hard on it, you know. All sort of fun little details~ Might honestly be one of my favorites. If you're good for me, I'll let you explore it~"

THERE it is.

Darkside. Sex and cookies. Sign up today. Fuck you and not in the fun way. Keep your hands to yourself, Collective. You're not convincing me. You could tell me the sky was blue, and I'd make three presentations with a PowerPoint, on why you were a liar. No, still No, and a hefty fuck off No for spice.

Three steps away. Two steps. One.

A man that tall and dangerous? Frankly did NOT need heels. Figures he'd wear them anyway. Sharp enough to kill a man. Right infront of my folded knees. I refuse to look up. No more fucking games. Did have to wonder, though, if those pants... if they even WERE pants? Were painted on or not. Very tight. Looked vaguely metal yet leather.

Shit.

Fingers, splayed wide as they run themselves through my sweaty and probably bloodstained hair. Couldn't have been nice to touch. Wrong angle and just a touch too big to be a Drone. Light as a lover, sweet almost, soothing. Before it inevitably tightens, gripping the strands. Honestly not as hard as I expected, didn't even hurt.

Still, my head is forced back.

Back and back and back, forced to arch my spine, hang awkwardly at some forty-five degree angle. My thighs and abs already screaming. A Drone grabs the back of my armor and, with an almost casual yank, my chest plate is violently snapped free. Both tossed to the floor away from us.

"There we are~" the Face hums down at me, eyes nearly hypnotic in how the light moved from within, grin full of sharp and deadly teeth. "No more of that ugly thing in the way. I much prefer this~"

"Tell me, Little Hero, do you remember? Becoming mine."

No, I certainly do fucking not. What the HELL is he-!? From behind the Face a Drone steps. Dressed differently to the others. Casual clothes. Like... actual street clothes. If they weren't GREEN I never would been able too-...

In horror, I watch as the pigment of the Drones skin melts away to a middling average. So utterly nondescript a blend of ethnicities that it's genuinely hard to place, but won't stand out no matter where he goes in the city.

I... I had seen that face.

SAVED that man.

Thought he was CUTE! T..Thought WE were having some sort of MEET CUTE! Oh God. That was at the festival. I was out of costume. Saved him from getting crushed. Then my teammates handled everything before I could slip away. So I just... stayed. Showed the cute tourist the festivities.

We ate FANCY JAMS, YOU FUCK!

I pined our that cute tourist for WEEKS. Was UNBEARABLE. Tech threatened to shove me off a roof! Oh my god.

Laughter.

Dozens of mouths, laughing in perfect sync. The noise layered and bouncing strangely around the room. Deeper then it should be, higher as it swings. Like a radio or voice modulator that someone is messing with. A momentary loss of control. My anger fizzles out to fear. Oh... oh yeah...

I forgot I was fucked.

At.. at least I know why?

A step forward. Past too close and now basically in my lap. A foot on either side of my knees. I try not to think exactly where my face would be pressed if I wasn't dragged back, to hang near painfully arched, so he could lean down and I could be forced to make eye contact. That way lay madness.

He moved his other hand to my face, cupping it. Dragging his thumb possessively across my mouth. He hummed, pleased.

He pressed closer, sliding down my front to his knees, straddling my lap. REALLY hoped that WAS, in fact, a weapon in your pocket there, buddy. Because I am not liking the handsy direction this is going, nor have I come to terms with my meet cute being a monstrous planet killing warlord. Not feeling sexy, my guy.

....okay, a LITTLE sexy, but that is hormones and we ignore those.

Fuuuuuck, wandering haaaaands! Now would be a GOOD TIME for door kicking rescues! I do NOT want to learn anything new about myself today! I want to go HOME. Sleep forever, maybe! Have a burrito the size of my head! Oh god. Think unsexy thoughts. Math. Sad puppies! Sad puppies doing MATH!

The Collective had dragged me upright. Pressed my face right up against their Face's bare skin. All I could smell was expensive cologne and man. Warm skin. Oh god, I am so gay. This is hell and I am very, VERY gay. If evil, why sexy hot hot hot? Hormones are making very convincing arguments. Horny brain says let's make terrible life choices.

No! Nooooo. Stop it, Me! We are fucking better then this! God damn it, you trainwreck, you are a ROLE MODEL! Act like one! (But horny...) (NO!!!)

God I was never going to mock the fuckers who hesitates at the "sex n cookies" speech again. Persuasive mother FUCKER!

"Aah~" he sighed contentedly, far too close to a moan for my sanity's liking. Hands having finally found the hidden zippers of my undersuit. Slowly dragging it open. "You are FAR too cute~♡"

"I can't wait to get you off this worthless little rock. Back to ME. I'll have so many WAYS to take care of you~ Backups and rudimentary supports we can set up, at least until I get you something proper."

Horrifying. Deeply Horrifying. REALLY never wanted to know what terrified and horny felt like, but here we are. Distantly, I hear thunder. There's no clouds. A flash of red through the skies. Green followed by metallic purple. Oh thank fuck. Keep his attention. Just... just keep his attention.

"We'll use me as a base. Keep you in stasis. Away from all these ugly, dangerous things~! Just you and me. Perfect. BETTER. Infinite and beautiful. I'll make all sort of bodies just for you to play with. Even let you keep this one! If you want. It'll be a precious memory for us, of where you began. How we met."

A mouth on mine. I can't breathe. Can't escape the arms wrapped around me. My protests do little more then waste oxygen. I feel light headed. Come one, team Alliance! He's here! HE'S HERE!!!

"You're going to be MINE, little Hero. I finally figured it out. What I was missing. It was YOU~♡! My beloved, delicate, little thing~. I'm going to take SUCH good care of you."

"Forever~"

[the-mountain-flower]

The Exiled and The Outcast

 Chapter Four: Something There That Wasn’t There Before

The next night, Dainix returned to the fireplace. As soon as he sat down to light the fire, he heard a skittering on the floor beside him. He looked down to see something new: a small piece of flint alongside a smaller piece of steel.

“For the food.”

Dainix turned back to find no one else visible, but he recognized the voice.

“Thanks.” Dainix turned back to the fireplace, starting the fire much easier this time.

Falst let his presence be known again a few minutes later. It was risky, but he decided it was worth it to try and find out more about the unexpected visitor.

They seemed to know he was there immediately.

“Here’s these back.” The stranger placed the firestrikers on the ground in front of Falst. Then they held out another piece of food, something different than the night before, but it smelled just as good.

Falst took it gingerly. “Why?”

The stranger frowned. “I’m sorry, do you not like it?”

“No!” Falst reflexively held the food close, though the stranger didn’t make any appearance of trying to take it from him. “That’s not- I mean, why are you giving me this at all?”

The stranger didn’t respond at first, kind of looking like they were choosing their words carefully. “You didn’t try to take anything else from me, just the food. And I have enough to share.”

“...Thanks.”

Food in one hand, Falst grabbed the firestrikers- which he hadn’t expected to be returned- with the other, then began to run off again.

“I'm Dainix, by the way.”

Falst stops in his tracks. “What?”

“My name, Dainix.” The stranger- Dainix- responded. “What's yours?”

For a while, he contemplated not answering. Then, deciding there probably wasn't any harm in it…

“Falst.”

They repeated this little routine every following morning and night. Falst offered firestrikers, and Dainix would prepare food for two. Falst would accept one, then disappear.

Falst had stopped keeping as close of an eye on Dainix as he used to, doubting he'd find anything new at this point. He even ventured into the library while Dainix was still in there, though he didn't exactly announce that. It became clear to him that Dainix was looking for something in particular, though Falst didn't know what.

It wasn’t any of his business, but… well he supposed he could only live in proximity to someone for so long before getting curious. After all, Dainix wasn’t the only one here who spent a lot of time in the library.

One day, Falst noticed Dainix’s frustration at apparently trying to figure out the library’s organizational system. Falst had figured it out a while ago, though not by any intentional search, he'd just put it together over time.

This gave him an idea. One that might make Dainix's search a bit easier, and therefore get him out of the castle sooner.

Dainix entered the library again in the morning, not looking forward to another day of the same so far-fruitless attempts. He didn’t expect his search to be easy, but that didn’t mean he didn’t wish he could find something soon!

He didn't notice anything different at first. It wasn’t until he almost reached the study desk with a couple books still open, that something caught his eye.

On the side of a bookshelf, under an illegible label, were runes scratched into the wood.

Emissary magic: A-D

He checked the shelf in the next column over. Sure enough, it had a similar addition.

Theoretical: A-F

A cursory search revealed that the scratched-in runes marked all of the shelves now, including the ones that Dainix had figured out on his own already. Even the few with labels that were technically still legible but difficult to make out, had their contents translated onto the wood.

That night, Dainix asked an admittedly expected question, and Falst’s hopes of his attempt at helping going unspoken were dashed.

“I noticed the labels scratched on the shelves. Was that you?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Thank you.”

Falst shrugged.

“You've been to the library a lot?”

Yes. Falst tried not to get too attached to anywhere he stayed, since it was inevitably temporary. But, if he were to have a favorite place in the castle, it would probably be that.

He gave another shrug. “I've been here for a while now.”

Clearly smart enough to not push the subject, Dainix wordlessly held out the firestrikers for Falst to take.

Falst hesitated, then shook his head. “Keep it. I can get more.” He knew where to find some leftover supplies in what was probably the castle staffrooms.

“Oh, thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” This time, Falst didn’t bother to run away as fast as he usually did.

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

Just pretend the alphabetical order thing works with the Aurora runic alphabet...

This chapter got done way faster than the last one huh… to be fair they were initially drafted as one chapter and got split in two, so it makes sense. Plus, I was stuck in a bit of writer's block for a while but recently started going at it and writing a lot, hence the almost-month-long wait for an update immediately followed by the next one being only a few days. Also the amount of writing I've been able to do makes me really happy :D This chapter reads a bit messily IMO, but this that ended up what was working best for the story progression. Don't worry, it gets more put-together soon. Remember to drink water, eat food, take your meds (if applicable), and get enough sleep. Love you all, and have a great [insert time here]! <3

[terracomets]

tigersunii's firestrike!

[rivalvoyager]

Lamenters Primaris Firestrike Servo Turret

[acrosstheseaauwof]

Intro

Hi everyone, This profile is mainly for my AU. So what is this AU? It's mainly just a whimsy AU The sky wings live in islands above the ground And all that stuff But here are some. Facts and rules about the AU1: In the sky, kingdom of instead of fire scales being cast out and being thrown off cliffs they are worshipped like deities and have been rumored to be blessed by the Sun itself.( I primarily just made this part of the AU Because I wanted Peril's life to be better) 2: The dragonet prophecy is actually real3: rainwings actually participate in War of sandwing succession and are known throughout pyrrhia as well respected assassins And They earn their venom and color changing scales throughout some kind of ritual 4: Technology does exist though it's not advanced and everything runs on steam and it's so new that it's barely used.5: The scorpion den is underground(this is how when I first read the books i personally imagined the scorpion den)6: Seawings are actually scared of the other tribes since they don't have venom disappearing scales tail barbs or fire scales so they don't participate in the war of Sandwing Succession7: The talons of peace are the Talons of Diamonds and their base is a ruin temple and they actually care about the dragonets they raise their own dragonets with the DoD they are also much much bigger about 200 members 8: Tormaline and Ruby are different dragons And Tormaline is with the Talons of Dimonds and has a daughter named Firestrike 9: Scavengers are raccoon bird creatures 10: The Talons of Dimonds Have their own anthem across the sea.11: Night and day are swaped The Talons of Dimonds rules: