#fractured vanguard

[himbonotes]

I realise I haven't actually shared this here since the new chapter is probably gonna be up soon (even though next week is very busy for me) for those not on the train, here is my Disco Elysium fic, Fractured Vanguard

In the Year '53, partners Harry DuBois and Kim Kitsuragi are assigned to what appears to be a routine missing persons case. But when the woman mysteriously reappears in Seol, the two are volunteered by the Moralintern to make an unprecedented trip to the Isola amidst a fraught political climate.

There they must work in tandem with the Seolite police force to bring the missing woman home while the very fabric of both Elysium and their relationship shifts drastically around them.

[angelsarecomputers]

new fractured vanguard chapter lets fucking gooooooooooooooooooo

[zeroseuniverse]

Labyrinth of Ruins

Word Count: 1.0K Summary: “You’re safe,” Hongjoong murmured, holding him close. But his relief was tinged with confusion. “How did you get out?” The boy pulled back slightly, his small hands clutching at Hongjoong’s jacket. “There was someone,” he said softly. “She helped me. But she’s gone now.” Pairing: Hongjoong X Fem Reader

Disclaimer: Please be aware that this is apart of the from the ashes series. This series will have aspects of violence, weapons, angst, blood, injuries, killing, and will heavily focus on oppression and segregation of mutants, Look after your mental state if any of these make you uncomfortable please.

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The shattered city stood in eerie silence, broken only by the distant crackle of gunfire and the occasional low rumble of collapsing buildings. Smoke curled into the air, turning the setting sun into a blood-red smear across the horizon. Among the ruins, desperation and danger lurked in every shadow.

Hongjoong crouched low behind the crumbling remnants of a wall, his sharp eyes scanning the chaotic battlefield ahead. The Vanguard patrol had swept through like a storm, leaving his faction scrambling to defend their meager territory. His team fought fiercely, but their numbers were thinning, and the fight wasn’t going in their favor.

Behind him, a small figure trembled, his son huddled close to the ground amidst the wreckage. The boy’s wide eyes darted between the flashes of light and bursts of sound, his small hands clutching a scrap of fabric that had once been a cherished toy.

“Stay hidden,” Hongjoong whispered, his voice low but firm. His son nodded silently, his trust in his father absolute. The skirmish intensified, with shouts and explosions echoing through the ruined streets. 

Amidst the chaos, no one noticed the figure moving deftly through the shadows. she had no allegiance to any faction—a lone survivor navigating the fractured world with skill and caution. She hadn’t planned on intervening today. The chaos was a storm to avoid, not to weather. But something caught her eye: a child, too still, too exposed, crouched alone in the wreckage.

It was instinct more than choice that propelled her forward. she crept closer, keeping to the shadows, her every movement deliberate. The boy didn’t see them at first, too focused on the chaos surrounding him. Only when a piece of debris shifted did his head snap up, eyes wide with fear.

“Shh,” She murmured softly, crouching to his level. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The boy hesitated but didn’t move. She took that as permission, gently scooping him up and retreating into the maze of rubble. She moved quickly, expertly navigating the ruins until the sounds of battle began to fade into the distance. Only then did she stop, setting the boy down in a small, hidden alcove.

“You’re safe here,” She said, keeping her voice calm and quiet. “Stay low and don’t make a sound. Someone will come for you.”

The boy stared at her, his expression unreadable, but he didn’t protest. she gave him one last look before slipping back into the shadows, vanishing as quickly as she had appeared.

When the soldiers finally retreated, leaving devastation in their wake, Hongjoong emerged from the wreckage with a mixture of relief and dread. He scanned the battlefield, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for his son. The boy’s hiding place was empty, and for a terrifying moment, panic threatened to consume him.

Then he spotted a small figure emerging from the shadows, moving hesitantly toward him. Relief flooded through him as he recognized his son, unharmed but visibly shaken.

“Father,” the boy whispered, running to him. Hongjoong knelt, pulling him into a fierce embrace, his heart still racing.

“You’re safe,” Hongjoong murmured, holding him close. But his relief was tinged with confusion. “How did you get out?”

The boy pulled back slightly, his small hands clutching at Hongjoong’s jacket. “There was someone,” he said softly. “She helped me. But she’s gone now.”

Hongjoong’s eyes narrowed. “Someone?”

The boy nodded, his gaze earnest. “She said I’d be safe. She hid me.”

Hongjoong stood, his grip on his son firm as he scanned the ruins. Whoever had saved his son had done so without revealing herself, slipping away as quietly as she had arrived. He felt a surge of gratitude but also a gnawing sense of unease. Why had she helped? And where was she now?

He turned back to his team, his son’s hand in his. “Find out who was here,” he ordered, his voice cold and commanding. “I want to know everything.”

As his men moved to follow his command, Hongjoong looked out over the ruins, his mind racing. Somewhere in the shadows, an unknown savior had crossed his path. And whoever she was, she had just earned a place in his thoughts—whether as an ally or a potential threat, he didn’t yet know.

The night had settled over the city, the distant sounds of skirmishes fading into an uneasy stillness. She moved cautiously through the labyrinth of ruined buildings, her footsteps light against the debris-strewn ground. She had managed to avoid detection so far, but the prickling sensation of being watched had grown stronger with each step.

She paused in a narrow alley, pressing her back against a cold, cracked wall. Their breaths came slow and steady as she scanned the darkness around her. Nothing moved, but the weight of unseen eyes bore down on her, setting her nerves on edge.

“Come on,” she whispered to herself, forcing her legs to move.

Ahead, a faint light flickered from what seemed to be an abandoned store. Shelter. Her instincts urged her to approach, but years of surviving in hostile territory told her to tread carefully. She slipped inside, the warped door creaking softly as it closed behind her.

Inside, the space was eerily quiet, shelves overturned and coated with a thick layer of dust. She crouched low, scanning the shadows. Suddenly, a sharp sound echoed from behind them—the unmistakable scrape of a boot against concrete.

She spun, a knife already in her hand, her eyes locking onto the darkened doorway. For a moment, the shadows seemed to shift, but nothing emerged. She remained still, her grip tightening on the blade, every muscle in her body coiled for action.

“Who’s there?” She called out, her voice low and steady. Silence answered her, but the oppressive sense of being watched didn’t fade. After a long, tense moment, she lowered the knife, her instincts screaming that lingering here was a mistake.

She moved quickly, slipping out of the building and back into the open. The sensation of being followed persisted, but she didn’t look back. She couldn’t afford to. Whoever or whatever was out there, she would deal with it on her terms—not in the ruins of a trap.

For now, the night swallowed her whole, leaving only the shadows to keep her secrets.

[autumnmobile12]

All right, here's the thing about the Todoroki fire-users.

Most forms of glass melt at a temperature of 1,400°C to 1,600° C.

Orange flames have a range of 1100°C to 1200°C.

So unless either of them can exceed the 1400°C threshold and get into the white flame range (1300°C - 1500°C), Shouto and Endeavor cannot melt glass.

But with a blue flame that burns 1,400°C-1,600°C, this bitch sure can.

So now that in the Ambush Simulation AU I've revealed Nine and his entourage are the LoV, imagine the opening scene of Heroes Rising:

Whichever henchmen they've hired to transport the cargo in that car chase scene are careening down the highway, the Pros are in pursuit...and so's the Vanguard.

Car accidents caused by the fleeing villains have put Rock Lock and company out of commission, but Shimura's motorcycle can maneuver through just fine, so he and his passenger are still in the game like it's a Greek chariot race. Nobody really knew the Vanguard was going to make an appearance, nobody knows how they got the info on what was happening, but hey, they're provisionally licensed and can operate under Pros now, so no one's going to complain about the extra manpower on their side.

So my thoughts and prayers are with the poor driver of the armored vehicle whose sole job is to focus on the road. He just wants to survive the night without getting arrested, his comrades can worry about the Pros behind them, he's more concerned about the Pros blockading the road in front of them, one of whom is Endeavor. He's not paying attention to that loud thunk he heard on the roof.

Things are already looking a little sticky...

...and then this crazy bastard appears in the windshield and starts melting the glass. Not breaking it; it's too thick to break without a weapon. Just slowly melting it so the poor guy has enough time to contemplate and regret some key life choices.

(There's a very specific image in my head here and it's the drowned corpse scene from the anime Ghost Hunt if anyone's familiar with that one.)

Anyway, the getaway driver just panics and veers over the guardrail and down the mountainside as it goes in the film, which pretty much leaves Shimura to stop his bike and stare alongside Endeavor down at the path of destroyed vegetation in horror as the sound of screeching metal fades to silence.

Shimura: ....

Endeavor: .... *slowly turns to look at Shimura*

Shimura: *doesn't look up* Hey, don't look at me. You created that monster.

...

And recall that scene ends with Endeavor heading down the hill to investigate the crash and finds Hawks already there:

Touya: What's the situation with my leg? It feels like it's either been broken or impaled.

Hawks: Actually, it's both. That's an...impressive compound fracture.

Touya: All that and I only got a busted leg? *sits up* Oh, no wait, fuck, there's two of you and Endeavor's multiplying.

Endeavor: *fed up* ....scared me to death, you shit for brains. Where's the League?

Hawks: I think they managed to warp out at the last minute. Genius here is the only body I found breathing or otherwise.

Touya: *cackling* Shut the fuck up, Feathers!

...

Shimura: You have got to stop smiling like you regularly devour the souls of small children and their pets.

Touya: *adrenaline wearing off, pain finally setting in* I have no idea what you're talking about.

Rock Lock: *standing over both of them* Exactly what was your plan back there?

Touya: Obviously, I was thinking I could get control of the steering wheel. Not my fault the driver had the nerves of a dandelion. Also, I'm not the one who thought chasing down an armored vehicle with four-door sedans was a good idea, so why I am the only stupid one here? Now everyone be quiet, my head is splitting and I just suffered the indignity of being carried away from an accident by my father.

Endeavor: Carrying you was easier when you were four.

Touya: The last time you carried me is when I was four!

[zairas-realm-gateway]

Fun little spooky VikJayce/Season 1!JayVik concept idea

In League verse, Jayce and Viktor have not yet worked through most of their crap yet. But there's bigger problems right now. Something wrong in Piltover and Zaun, a familiar black mist is beginning to fill the streets.

The Harrowing is near.

But how?! It isn't time!

Both scientists have to work together to use science and magic to try find a means to save their town. Their work is rushed, people are dying. They finally craft a controllable rift that should be able to cast out the Shadow Isle forces. But as they set it up and face off against Hecarim, the vanguard charges and drags them in with him and his forces. This disrupts the settings on the portal.

They tumble into the Arcane verse and separated. Angered by their opposition, Hecarim declares revenge and follows their spirit essence. But he cannot move freely without the black mist. The mist is only an inch tall on the first day. They have a few more days.

Realizing they're not in their own Piltover, they decide they need to find this world's variation of themselves as their best chance to get what they need. They have to get to them, have to protect them. the problem is when they find them, they discover just how far behind technologically this Piltover is compared to their own.

Even their other selves are so different. It's like looking into a fractured mirror. Jayce doesn't recognize the bright and shiny smile beaming in excitement at them when they meet. Viktor is disturbed by the sickly nature of his doppleganger. Both minds and souls so young, so uncorrupted by half the shit Jayce and Viktor have seen and done.

Jayce frustrated by his doormat of a counterpart, he punches a Piltovean elite that tries to manipulate and use Talis like so many have used Giopara before. He's not letting this brat go through what happened to him.

Viktor is concerned by the state of his younger counterpart. Trying to instill his wisdom and truth of the Glorious Evolution. So many of the young man's ailments and agonies would be corrected with augmentation.

As they try to protect their own younger selves and each other's younger selves, Jayce and Viktor start to feel a connection they both thought was dead.

They become so obsessed with their younger versions and the feelings they stir up that they forget the mist is rising. The lights flicker and they remember. But these two have never heard of the Harrowing, of the Shadow Isles. They don't believe the dead can rise and pull ones soul from their corpses.

This is bad, very bad.

The sound of thundering hooves is echoing in the streets.

[savior-of-the-ink]

Something I wanted to say back in November, but didn't have Tumblr for it:

I am so glad Eramis didn't cave into therapy.

People are upset that Eramis never made the effort to be humanity's ally in the past four years, meanwhile I'm out here, being like... we killed her sister-in-arm and protégé, back in Beyond Light?? Because Variks told us their deaths would have stressed her out enough to make reckless decisions??? Just what kind of sick level of manipulation were we playing, at that time?!

Also, after that we killed her probably-BBF. And a literal child. And an entire pirate crew that got involved just because the Witness has no regards for the lives of its "tools". And her team on Seraph's Station (after tricking and toying with them). And the Scorn version of her protégé. But I digress.

Eramis had been in need of help the instant the Witness gifted her Stasis. We saw how it twisted her personality and perception of reality, chanced her peaceful dream of a new Riis into the idea of a tyrannical empire... And all we did was attempting at her life and her House's. The alliance with Misraaks wasn't underway yet, I get it, but does it excuse our actions? Those people were literally Just Chilling, trying to rebuild the semblance of a home because we kept evicting them from their lairs, destroy their Servitors for sport and sedating any attempt at unification for about six years (in 2020). Players l o v e to label Eramis as a villain who "needed to be stopped" before she could evolve into "a threat for the City" when we had no fucking business with whatever was going on with House Salvation in the first place, like we have no business in the Eliksni's political conflict in general: it has been going on longer than the City Age, all we do is meddle and only fracture it more and more.

So, again: I'm glad that in Revenant, when we showed the bare fucking minimum of human decency and provided her with actual professional help, she flipped us off. We deserved it. Eramis needed therapy FOUR YEARS AGO: she was playing with forces bigger than her and that she couldn't understand as a way to cope with the unbearable amount of the self-imposed stress from being "the one who would save her people", but we resorted to violence first and foremost and we ruined her as much as the Witness did, if not even more. Because it's not like we are supposed to be the GUARDIANS of this system and PROTECT innocents from the Darkness's sway. Because, at the end of the day, we are not solely the Vanguard's faithful lapdog, a piece of meat carrying a gun around and aiming it at anything that shows the slightest disagreement with our policy. What the actual fuck.

[mariacallous]

The last time Donald Trump entered the White House and menaced efforts to stop the climate from overheating, affronted world leaders closed ranks against him.

Such defiance and unity are practically unthinkable this time.

Trump’s peers are disunited, focused inward and have already largely abandoned the vanguard of the fight to stop the planet from burning up. 

Their list of excuses, in fairness, contains many serious considerations. Wars and trade disputes have eroded international cooperation. A pile-up of global and domestic challenges has pushed climate change down — or off — the agenda when world leaders meet. The European powerhouses that eagerly claimed the climate mantle after Trump’s 2016 election are now fumbling through a house of mirrors as they confront economic decline, populism and what French President Emmanuel Macron warns could be the failure of the EU project. Many of these problems, by the way, will likely become even more daunting during a Trump presidency.

Simply put, leaders are distracted. The global order of recent generations is crumbling. It is, lamented U.N. climate change chief Simon Stiell in a recent speech, a “moment of profound fracture between nations and within them.” 

It’s also an inauspicious backdrop for the annual U.N. climate summit, which begins on Monday in Baku, Azerbaijan. The COP29 conference is doomed to be defined not only by Trump’s return to power, but also by the absence of those who might resist him.

What else to make of the list of leaders planning to miss the talks? Joe Biden is skipping. As is Macron, who once reveled in countering Trump’s gleeful climate denial. The European Union’s top executive, Ursula von der Leyen, who has made it her personal mission to deliver world-leading climate targets for 450 million people, is also a pass. Germany’s Olaf Scholz was supposed to go, but his government collapsed a day after Trump’s election, leading to his quick withdrawal. The host of next year’s climate talks, Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, is out thanks to a minor brain hemorrhage — and no, that’s not a metaphor. 

Trump won’t be there either, of course, having a whole government to set up in Washington.

“Is there any leader that sees climate as a key driver of contemporary politics and society?”  asked Luca Bergamaschi, founder of the Italian climate think tank Ecco.

“Probably not.”

Trump’s return finds the world’s leaders more Star Wars cantina than Plato’s Symposium. And it raises a question that will shape not only this year’s global climate talks but also the future of humankind: Do political leaders really matter when it comes to stopping the planet from burning up?

[cranesofibycus]

c3e89

"Maybe it's your turn to run"

"Laudna, if you weren't holding me down, I wouldn't be saving anybody but Predathos. If you let me go, I'm gone"

Mmmmmh.... The way I can always rely on Laura Bailey to deliver nuance, emotion, depth and authenticity 🥲 So good. So, so, so, so good. The tether keeping Imogen grounded is getting ever slimmer. You can feel it in everything Laura does and says. Imogen's conversation with her mother was heartbreaking, but it was so obvious how strongly she felt the pull towards Liliana, Predathos and the Vanguard. And she knows it. She knows that engaging with her mother is dangerous not because they might be found, but because of how fractured and uncertain her own beliefs are. It's Frodo and the ring, it's the sword in the stone. It's "with great power comes great responsibility". All that is keeping Imogen from becoming the Vanguard's most powerful weapon is her own decision against it. She's aware of that. But she's just a person, and people can be corrupted by power. I'm curious to see how or even if she will keep refusing that pull.

[thatboreddrake]

First Contact: Tyranids vs. Custodes

Darkness falls on Klydex 6. The Patriarch had long promised this day would come, and now the time has come to strike.

Golden servants of the Impostor made planetfall, then immediately made for our broodcoven. Somehow, they knew where to find us.

And yet, when all was lost, our Father led a vanguard to meet the invaders, and we were blessed to see the Star Gods descend to lend us their aid. The offworlders long held their positions, reinforced by their monstrous machines. Yet our saviors were undeterred.

We, the Star Children, poured forth from our stronghold to stand alongside our promised deliverers, forcing our oppressors to push the assault before they were quite ready. Unbeknownst to them, the Lone Stalker crept forth from its place of hiding to rend their backline to shreds, though it faced a swift reprisal from their walker.

The Wardens advanced under the command of their Captain, and we howled agony as they laid low a great champion of the Brood. Yet our pain was turned to joy, as in its Death-Throes it in turn tore its assailants limb from limb. Finally, emerging from the trees, the Patriarch of Patriarchs advanced to engage the Shield Captain in single combat, leaving him to retreat nursing a mortal wound. With their vanguard fractured, the Golden Ones were forced to retreat and regroup.

And so I rejoice. The Magus tells us that our work is far from over, that this was but the first of many battles to come. But we are ready. For our gods have descended to fight our battles for us. What is more, the Magus tells me that the Brood has a special task for me. Hail the Four-Armed Emperor!

-Journal excerpt from an unknown Neophyte of the Ouroboros Cult. Entries end here, no further information available.

@bimbomcgee as promised! For context, this and following posts are narrative battle reports from a 40k crusade that my local pod is running currently. They will be written from the perspective of various members of the local Genestealer Cult.

[macla539ac]

old project that I forgot to copy/paste here. it's an 'Omne Ensis Impera'

A.D. 2080

The American Technate is a unitary third-position regime and one of the most powerful nations on earth. Risen from the ashes of the Second and Third American Civil Wars (and the literal ashes of the Yellowstone Eruption), it is a strong, unracist, stratocratic state that places immeasurable importance on service to the state via either the military or contribution to the sciences and high arts. America is dominated by the Radiance Party, a neo-esotericist faction and the sole political party in the country. The American military is notorious for being uncompromising and vicious in the field of battle. In particular, the Technate maintains the Hyperborean Vanguard, an elite SF unit known for their use of white phosphorous grenades, railguns, and distinctive filtration masks.

The Republic of Quebec was granted sovereignty when the Technate gobbled up Canada because the Radiance Party was less than pleased with the idea of a bilingual state. They're loyal Technate allies, of course, and often act as middle men between the Technate and the French Domain.

The Democratic People's Republic of California is a very unpleasant regime that was carved off by a mix of antifascists and narco-syndicates during the Second American Civil War. After executing police chiefs, local politicians and other enemies of the new regime, the white leaders of the antifa factions found themselves under the gun as the new state's Hispanic majority attempted to expel the white population. This led to a war with several neighboring states that would one day become the Technate, and the DPRC is now majority-Latino. The Technate has nuked the Californians before and the Hyperborean Vanguard regularly carry out cross-border raids.

The Dixon Republic, known to most as The Confederacy (they don't much mind) is about what it says on the tin. A libertarian presidential democracy. The Confederacy's population is actually almost half-black, so the Dixon government downplays its racism and upplays a deracialized version of the "Southern Heritage" line. Most citizens don't buy it. The Dixons are an ally of the Russian-led Christendom and maintain a puppet state in The Republic of Florida and a buffer state in Greater Virginia.

The Republic of Texas was resurrected during the Second Civil War, because of course it was. They've since lost several separate shooting wars against both the Mexicans and the Technate, and hold the Confederates at a political arm's length. They've now settled for peddling oil to the highest bidder-- ironically, this is usually Mexico.

The Third Mexican Empire is the result of the rise of a strongman during the chaos of the Yellowstone Eruption. The ironically-named General Cortez promised amnesty to any narco syndicates who put their country before profit, and slaughtered the rest of them ruthlessly. The new Mexico regained some old territory from the fracturing US and then annexed its southern neighbors, peacefully or by force. The Mexicans are doing pretty well for themselves these days, having brought most of their Spanish-speaking neighbors into their fold. Mexico has a quiet agreement with the Technate that California and the Dixon Bloc are much more worth fighting than each other.

Gran Colombia was resurrected as a Mexican project.

Gran Peru ate Ecuador when no one was looking and is a steadfast pro-Mexican state.

Brazil struck an alliance with the Technate, and it is here in South America that the Technate and Mexico now fight their proxy wars. Brazil and its pro-Mexican adversaries aren't all that relevant to their respective mother states, but power blocs will be power blocs.

Gran Argentina calls itself The Empire of the Southern Cone, but no one else really does. They ate Chile when no one was looking (the Chileans included), and then threw in with the Reich because they'd rather kiss Germany's ass than America's, for one reason or another.

The British Union is a Blackshirt state that has reconstituted the British Empire. They're fairly pleasant, and run a lot of Mosley's old rhetoric, with the word "English" generally replaced by "British" to appease everyone else on the island. The monarchy persists and does about the same amount of fuckall as they always have, having ridden out the last World War in the tubes.

The French Domain is a hypernationalist state idolizing Napoleon, Charlemagne and de Gaulle as living embodiments of "The French Being". The French maintain a Romance Bloc consisting of Spain and Portugal, both of which went neo-Falangist during the New Reconquista.

The Fourth Reich is a third-position state and a fairly close partner of the Technate, being the most powerful nation in "Evropa Proper". Their sphere is The European Brotherhood, an alliance (not a federation) of European states aligned out of cultural fraternity and defense against Russia. The Reich is about what one might expect-- astounding space and aeronautics programmes, scientific research into the occult, and a lot fewer Jews than there once were. The Reich is led, at present, by Führer Gunther Ludendorff, a former Bundeswehr general.

The European Brotherhood consists of: Czechia, Slowakja, Hungary, Croatia, the Kingdom of Norway, the Kingdom of Denmark, the Swedish Rike, the Intermarium (the Kingdoms of Poland, Lithuania and Latvia) and the Spartan Empire, which contains a good chunk of what used to be Turkey. The Brotherhood states are mostly by-the-book autocracies, but there are exceptions-- the Swedish Rike has a Viking mythos to its stratocracy.

The Baltic Union consists of the Kingdom of Finland and the Republic of Estonia, and is closer to the Technate than it is the Reich.

The Basque Republic broke away from Spain during the Reconquista. Madrid is too passive to take it back. The Republic of Catalonia is about the same, but instead of being a French ally, Catalonia's patron is Rome.

The Third Roman Empire is Mussolini's dream made manifest, and they've gone so far as to reclaim Libya. They've also reclaimed Albania, but the Albanians proved too culturally distinct to integrate into Rome proper. It's become a military exercize zone, criss-crossed by gulag archeapelagos-- there are more Albanians imprisoned for anti-government activity and terrorism than there are not. Albania is being gradually settled by Romans, in the hope that "the last pocket of European Islam" will eventually be wiped out.

Nigeria, the Greater Republic of South Africa and the Union of Oceania are signatories of the Pact of Fire, a replacement to the Commonwealth and an ally to the British Union. Most of Southwestern Africa has been brought to heel under the Pact.

The United Arab Federation and its allies are Nasserists who took power after the Israeli War (2027-29). Pretty cool, and very proud of their efforts to clean up irradiated Palestine. They aren't formally allied with the Technate but very easily could be.

The Free African Commonwealth is Greater Ethiopia and everyone they've gotten to listen. They're Christendom states that practice a mix of Rastafarianism and Christianity-- imagine African Juche. They're nutters.

The Fraternal Christian Union of All the Russias is the lead nation of the Great Christendom. Take the Soviet Union and replace communism and all of its aspects with Orthodox Christianity, and you basically have the Russian Christendom. A nuclear-armed, internationally-hostile police state run by an Orthodox Inquisition, rather than the KGB. Greater Serbia (whose atrocities appall even Muscovy) and the new state of Byzantium are strong allies-- not that they have a choice.

Aside from the Technate, Russia's principle rival is the People's Republic of China, which is fairly unchanged, but is now on the wane as ethnic separatism and a disillusioned populace begin to erode the CCP's authority.

The Indian Union is a Hindu nationalist government vaguely allied with China against Russia, in a turnabout.

The Persian Empire was reconstituted after the Israeli War and the Death of Islam, and is a prosperous Boha'i state aligned with the Technate.

Greater Chosun is a technology cult aligned with the Technate against China.

The Japanese State is a neo-imperial regime allied with the Technate against Russia and China but no further-- they're actually fairly isolationist.

South East Asia is an ever-shifting network of pragmatic alliances with the Technate against Chinese puppets. The Viets are doing quite well for themselves, all things considered-- though Technate-supplied railguns have to be helping some.

The Arabian Peninsula is known to many as The Zone. The Gulf Monarchies were all either nuked or fell into anarchic civil war during the wars of the last century. There is a human population here, but nothing in the way of nations beyond a few roving warlord armies. The coast is rife with shadowports, and the unclaimed territory is often used for arms-dealing and testing. The Technate occasionally tests new weapons here, via the Persians.

Tech is a little all over the place. The advancement provided by another century of warfare is somewhat counterbalanced by the destruction of a lot of global industry in World War III, so as it stands:

-VTOLs are used by everyone but some nations still use conventional helicopters. The Technate is finally perfecting anti-grav technology, and some units among the Hyperborean Vanguard use hovercraft.

-Railguns have been successfully compacted and are used in conjunction with high-velocity conventional weapons and solid-state lasers on the battlefield.

-Transhumanism is primarily a medical thing-- there are people walking around with fully-functional replacement arms, but only as a result of having lost the originals by accident.

-Monorails and maglevs are extremely popular in the more developed nations of the world.

-The Reich is looking into harnessing Vril energy.

-The Technate is mostly nuclear-powered but solar is on the rise-- it is seen by some as a form of worship. Wind farms dot the ex-Canadian landscape.

-Radiation scrubbers have become good enough that tactical nukes are now a fairly-acceptable weapon to use in combat. The Technate in particular loves slinging "Davey Crocketts" at the Californians and the Dixons during their border skirmishes, then cleaning out the irradiated mess with Hyperborean commandos.

I'm planning on a sequel world of sorts showing the end-result of the current geopolitical affairs-- Neo-Mongols abound/autistic

[morrigan-sims]

OC A-Zs / OC Alphabet

I was tagged by @someone-elsa to show off one of my sims for each letter of the alphabet. (Fancy graphic optional, but I love playing in photoshop too much not to make a little graphic.) I could have made this a lot easier by including other characters that I've made sims of (Yasha and Nocticula, for example) but I decided to be strict about it and stick to my own OCs/sims. Surprising to absolutely no one, it ended up being very heavy on the D&D characters, though a decent number of RTQ/ATQH characters (the ones that I created) made it onto the list.

[a (very long) guide to who's who under the cut!] (and I do mean long. You have been warned.)

A - Avra Shadowbreath [D&D]

(she/her) My shadar-kai/reborn phantom rogue from my ongoing Curse of Strahd campaign. Devout worshipper of the Raven Queen, and a massive hypocrite. Kind of a bitch sometimes. Legally and biologically dead. Also a werewolf now.

B - Byron Lockwood [D&D NPC]

(he/him) Rook's least interesting half-brother. The "forgotten" middle child of Lord Alistair and Lady Evangeline Lockwood. Extremely boring. Only Lockwood brother with a job (and shockingly he's not terrible at it). The worst combo of all your shitty bosses.

C - Carrion Vice [D&D]

(he/him) My second-favorite OC at the moment. Biologically a tiefling but mechanically a beasthide shifter. Path of the Fractured barbarian. Transforms into a fucked-up monster when he rages. In an ongoing Dungeons of Drakkenheim campaign.

D - Daldinia Veneta [D&D, misc]

(she/her) A sim I made for my random D&D CAS challenge and now want to play for real someday. Reborn circle of spores druid. Named after one or two species of fungi.

E - Elira "Ellie" Duskstep [D&D]

(she/her) High elf abjuration wizard who I might never play, but I love none the less. Very autistic. Has a grey cat familiar.

F - Fallon Oakes [RTQ/ATQH]

(she/her) My queen, the first love of my life, the woman who changed my life. Queen of Anvia and the protagonist of my story. Stubborn as hell. Thinks she has to do everything alone.

G - Gwendolyn [misc]

(she/her) The hypothetical child of Amelie (I can't find the pics I know I posted of her??) and Adrian. I don't know much else about her. She was really just a CAS experiment.

H - Havoc [D&D, Video Games]

(they/them) A tiefling swords bard who stared out as a random sim, became a dnd character idea, and then ended up being my first Tav for BG3.

I - Irina [misc]

(she/her) One of two sims I have named Irina, who hilariously were both made for other simblrs. Made for @/wildfairies ages ago. A classy vampire lady.

J - Jay [D&D NPC]

(she/her) Elf. A former member of the crew of the Tide Breaker, and Rook's only friend before meeting the Vanguard (our dnd party). Made a very brief appearance in-campaign to save Rook's life before being tragically eaten by a giant rainbow snake.

K - Kholl [D&D NPC]

(he/him) Elf. Former surgeon of the Tide Breaker. Jay's mentor. Dragged Rook back from the edge of death more times than he should have had to.

L - Laverna Rosefist [D&D]

(she/they) Tiefling thief rogue. The first dnd character I ever made. Originally made for a simblr thing. Has gone through several iterations before reaching her current (and final) form. A (seemingly inevitable) product of my obsession with both tieflings and rogues.

M - Morana Novak [D&D]

(she/her) Fetchling curse patron witch for a Pathfinder game I'll eventually be playing in. Necromancer. Very practical about death. Has a sketchbook full of detailed drawings and observations about corpses she encounters. Nicknamed "mortician" by one of her party members. Her familiar is a raven named Miro. Autistic as hell and has no empathy whatsoever.

N - ?

O - Odynia Adrasteia Erinyes [D&D]

(she/her) Aasimar vengeance paladin (with a dip into hexblade warlock) sworn to Nemesis. Currently playing in a Greek mythology themed campaign. Made a literal "eye-for-an-eye" exchange. Charged with keeping a man alive who kind of doesn't want to be alive.

P - ?

Q - ?

R - Rook [D&D]

(he/him) My favorite OC of all time, my beloved idiot bastard man, the love of my life. Half (wood) elf swashbuckler rogue. Bastard son of a nobleman who ran away and became a pirate. Compulsive liar and Very Good At It. Chaotic motherfucker. Accidentally made the BBEG get very attached to him (and he to the BBEG). My little punching bag. Had daddy issues. All his parental figures end up shitty or dead.

S - Sera [Video Games]

(she/her) My PC for my first playthrough of Pathfinder: Kingmaker. An aasimar traditional monk. Has an AC of 50 and can make up to 8 attacks in one turn. Never takes her halo off.

T - Tessa Smallwood [RTQ/ATQH]

(she/her) The palace healer at the royal palace of Anvia, near Carisfell. The sweetest person you'll ever meet, but will ask you to please take care of yourself. (A hard ask if you're Fallon, apparently.)

U - ?

V - Val (Kyron Valris) [D&D]

(they/them) Tiefling hexblade warlock. Captain of the smuggling ship the Devil's Scorn. Hired by the Vanguard to chase down Captain Wolf in order to rescue Rook after he was kidnapped. (Aka, my temporary character when he was gone.) Former gang member. Criminal with strict morals. Has more common sense than the entire Vanguard put together. Still isn't entirely sure whether or not they regret taking this job.

W - Wymond of Oryn [RTQ/ATQH]

(he/him) Fallon's biological father. Member of a low-level noble house from the neighboring kingdom of Oryn. A lying, traitorous piece of shit who is directly responsible for the death of Fallon's mother. The only thing he and Fallon have in common is their eyes.

X - Xavier Blackthorne [RTQ/ATQH]

(he/him) Fallon's emotional father, even though she would deny this. Her mother's personal guard before her death, now the captain of Fallon's guard. The nicest man you'll ever meet. Has a habit of collecting strays. No biological kids, but the strongest dad energy in all of Anvia.

Y - ?

Z - Zenara "Zen" Raventhorn [D&D]

(they/them) Tiefling fiend warlock. The first dnd character I ever played. An accidental result of my Mighty Nein obsession. Occasionally gets possessed by their patron and wakes up in the middle of a mess with surprise new powers as an "apology".

[himbonotes]

Chapter 12 of Fractured Vanguard is up!

In order to understand what brought Amelie to Seol, Harry and Kim are forced to journey through their pasts together, dredging up painful memories and the last of what Harry's amnesia buried for him

[sobbingscripter]

DAY 4: Four Calling Birds

☃️Christmas Wishlist☃️

Tags: [Intersex!Heinkel][NB!Heinkel][fingering][AFAB reader][reverse cowgirl][anal play][idk if this is blasphemous because it's in the Vatican...][maybe a priest kink?]

❄️☃️❄️

"I'm not doing this."

Heinkel's voice is gruff, arms crossed over their chest, eyes narrowed behind spectacles and a cigarette hanging limply from their plump bottom lip.

Between muscular fingers, is the Christmas list you had slid under their door at the ass crack of dawn, a 3 point list of what you wanted from them specifically.

Ashy grey eyes watch as you string vibrant green tinsel around the Christmas tree in the private lounge, reserved for members of the Armed Priest Vanguard, with the only exception being you.

The personal bodyguard of the Pope himself.

Heinkel doesn't understand it. A halfwit such as yourself, being trusted to guard the most holy man in Christianity. You barely keep yourself alive, living off glasses of milk stolen in the quiet of night and 3 day old pasta. With an unhealthy amount of unhealthy snacks as quick pick-me-up's.

"You can't blame me for being curious about your Venus." You shrug with a hum, grabbing the bag of ornaments and you sort through them, discarding the ones who are rusted from being unused for so long.

Heinkel raises a dark brow, taking tentative steps towards you before they drop down onto the sofa, a booted foot coming to rest on a leather clad knee, and Heinkel stubs out their cigarette in the nearest ash tray, their rosary clanging against their plump chest with the movement.

"A Venus?" Heinkel repeats, accent thickening as they find themselves amused.

"You know, like, a penis and a vagina combo." You explain, lifting a vibrant and iridescent glass ornament to the light, marveling at the various shades of pastels that cause light to fracture along your features, the sight rather...

Hypnotic, to Heinkel's eyes, despite their aloofness.

"So, you decided to put on your Christmas list;" Heinkel clears their throat, pink tongue brushing over full lips, "number 1, 'let me see your...'— How do you say this word? Ginis?"

"Ginis." You repeat. "Like, 'gi' from vagina, and 'nis' from penis."

"Oh, danke Engel." Heinkel looks back down at the note.

"Number 1, 'let me see your ginis'. That one is already inappropriate. Number 2, 'lemmy'— Nein, speak properly. What is this? L-E-M-M-E?"

You let out a snort of laughter, plopping down beside Heinkel, your thigh brushing against their's and the brief contact makes Heinkel's pants feel a bit tighter.

"It's pronounced as 'lemmie', but it's 'let me'." You explain, always seeming to forget that their first language isn't English, despite that thick ass German accent that makes you bite your knuckles.

"So, you wish to touch my... Venus, and then, you want me to do your laundry?"

Heinkel pinches the bridge of their nose, a perfect downward slant with a little hook at the bridge from being broken one too many times.

"Schatz, I'm not doing your laundry."

Your brows raise at the fact that that is the only thing that Heinkel seems to have an issue with.

"So, I can touch you?"

"Scheiße...."

Heinkel's hands spread along the plush globes of your ass, watching the way your ass jiggles each time it collides with their toned hips, bare glimpses of your warm and inviting pussy, swallowing their cock greedily.

Your soft hair is swept over your shoulder, as you glance back at Heinkel, watching the way their eyes roll back with each movement you make, glasses fogged up and rosy lips parted to let out hot breaths in the frosty December air.

Straw-coloured strands cling to their forehead, a thin layer of perspiration coating flushed skin and fingers dig into the fat of your ass with desperation, an eagerness to keep you there.

"Just like that, bitte, bitte, bitte, bitte, don't stop."

Heinkel's chest heaves, deep breaths as one of your hands reach back, trailing down the valley between their breasts, fingertips skimming over pebbled nipples, and Heinkel whines at the sensation, especially when one of your mischievous hands trail up a tightly toned thigh, and you lean forward, all the way.

Your forearms against the mattress, right between her knees and your hand goes back to that spot between their legs, fingertips trailing along their quivering slit, a combination of your wetness, theirs and precum makes your cunt even stickier, that lewd sound ringing out alongside Heinkel's breathy moans and your quiet sighs.

"You're so big, liebling." You whisper softly, your long lashes fluttering as your hips rock just a bit more, your throbbing clit begging to be touched as one of your fingers sink into Heinkel's drooling cunt, manicured fingers stroking along their inner walls.

They clamp around your digit, Heinkel squirms and they wine, lashes fluttering and blunt nails dig into the plushness of your ass and thighs, before walls flutter around their cock, and you lift yourself a bit more, just until that flushed and blunt tip remains buried in your cunt.

Veins throb against your sloppy and gushy walls, just as Heinkel's hand rests just below your tail bone, their thumb circling that puckered ring of muscle and Heinkel watches with amusement at the way your hips stutter, and your eyes widen.

"N-not...there—"

You barely get your words out before Heinkel's digit is pushing past that ring of muscle, slick with spit and your back arches, a low mewl leaving your lips.

"You're so tight here, liebling..." Heinkel groans lowly, hips lifting from the mattress as they fuck up into you, your fingers continue to pump into their gooey cunt, probing at all the sensitive spots that make their toes curl.

"...'m cumming..."

You whine, hips stuttering and your movements become so erratic, ass pushing back against Heinkel's hand, thumb fucking into your tight ass with slow, deep thrusts and your thighs shake as you cum.

Slick dripping down Heinkel's thick cock, and you're barely coherent, babbling nonsensically and illegible mewls and curses, so fucked out that you don't even notice as Heinkel's hands move to the backs of your thighs.

They manoeuvre your body, Heinkel's breasts against your back and their forearms lock beneath your thighs, hands behind your neck and Heinkel begins to fuck up into you with abandon.

Your knees press against the plush mounds of your tits, nipples oversensitive and being stimulated by the friction caused by each bullying thrust of Heinkel's cock.

They cunt leaks, clenching around nothing ad Heinkel fills you, a delightful pinch appearing behind your navel each time Heinkel's tip French kisses the plug of your cervix, drool drips down your chin.

"...'s too much— can't take it...—!"

You whine, babbling pleas and whines as you try not to make too much noise to alert anyone else in the building. Aged walls make your moans bounce off back, seeming louder in your ears and Heinkel's panted breaths brush against your shoulders and your neck.

Their tongue drags along the soft skin of your neck, gathering the saltiness of your sweat and a lazy hand keeps flicking and rubbing along your aching clit, the quick and fast stimulation making your left leg lock up faster than a pitbull's jaws.

Pudgy cockhead keeps battering at your G-spot, abusing that spongy spot with fervor.

And panted whines leave you, your lashes fluttering and your eyes going blurry.

And your moan is a stifled scream, Heinkel's other hand muffling your moan, your hips lifting and an intense stream of fluids shoot out. You didn't know you could do that.

Soaking through the covers, and when Heinkel slips back into your spasming walls, your legs shaking, and Heinkel moans, cock twitching, eager for release. Veins throb, pulsing with need, copious amounts of precum eagerly and sloppily filling you up, before warmth fills you.

Hot cum being fucked into your oversensitive cunt and you whine, sucking on Heinkel's digits to protect yourself from the wrath that would be incurred if anyone were to find you dick hopping within these walls.

And with a panted sigh, Heinkel pulls out of you, sloppy cock falling limp against your thigh, cunt quivering and you let out shaky breaths.

And almost, as though in unison, you both breathe out.

"Scheiße..."

[lavampira]

after healing the abyssal fracture with 2 first timer tanks + vanguard with a gnb allergic to mits I think I’ve conquered all fear of playing sage tonight

[finchmarie]

Gym rat Star doodle. Fun fact the scars on their wrists are from surgery after fracturing both wrists punching through an Atlas cockpit. Just 6’3” Vanguard vibes.

Trying to get better at darker skin and masc (ish) bodies. GNC blorbos have been therapeutic for me.

[martyr-19]

{"guardian_login": "Martyr-19" [”ghost”: “Prophet”]}

{“id": "0430"}

{"title": "Bio:Lillian"}

{"type": "bioshare"}

{"created": "####-##-##”}

{“updated”: “####-##-##”}

4/6

Snippets of Lillian’s Guardian profile—

LILLIAN

{“guardian": "Lillian"}

{“ghost": "Casper"}

{“status”}} > deceased

{“stationed”}} > {“body-recovery”}} > [recovered] > {“ghost-recovery”}} > [located]

> [warlock, awoken]

First Vanguard Note>>

[####-##-##] > IR “Shows immense potential in the use of ark Light, but she lacks the confidence and follow through to properly employ it in the heat of battle. She must overcome her hesitation.”

Last Vanguard Note {Prior to Guardians Final Death}>>

[####-##-##] > IR “I will be approving her request for relocation to the Vanguard's research division within the EDZ.”

-

-

Fireteam {1} Insight>>

[####-##- ##-] {“year 1”}

{B}} Just wish she’d fight more and stop trying to educate me on why I shouldn’t put the mystery plant in my mouth.

{V1}} What a shame she isn’t a Titan! All that power must be put to use!

{S3}} Powerful ark Light. Excels in the backlines. Works best with a sniper rifle in her hands.

{K}} She’s a ray of sunshine— keeps us all together.

{M8}} Brilliant.

Fireteam {1} Insight>>

[####-##- ##-] {“year 2”}} “last recorded”

{B}} I actually really loved the cloak. Im sorry I didn’t wear it. The flowers were a sweet touch, not stupid.

{V1}} I hope you’re at peace. You’re missed. You’re loved. Always.

{S3}} I miss you. I miss you so much. You were the smartest, happiest person— there was so much for you still. You made the world brighter and filled it with more colour than I ever realized now that you’re gone. I’m sorry we argued before it happened. I’m sorry I never apologized. I’m sorry you’ll never see the end of the fighting. I’m sorry we’ll never start that garden. I love you.

{K}} I’ll be quicker next time.

{M8}} Your Light hasn’t stopped shining, Lilly. Not at all.

-

-

Latest Guardian Report>> “last”

{OverviewAccess}

{“attached-details”>hidden}

“Fireteam is going out to investigate the signal pinging from Nessus. It’s been thirteen days since the initial ping was received. Attempting to transcribe only comes up with static and a jumble of high frequency noises— it’s unlikely this is anything but Vex. The team is prepared to handle this operation and will exercise caution. I will report further later, once we have located the source.”

UPDATE>>

“Source seems to be a dormant Hydra. Nearly 15 feet tall— the biggest this fireteam has seen. We’ll do extra digging to make sure we’re not missing anything, then turn back and pass this to a more experienced group. We’re unprepared for dealing with this ourselves.”

-

-

There are no further reports made by Lillian.

Lillian and her Ghost met their final death on Nessus, [####-##-##].

The Guardians body was recovered within 30 days. Her Ghost remains in a fractured state across their final battlefield. While recently located, collection efforts are ongoing.

[Combining fireteam accounts]

Shortly after her updated report was logged, the fireteam were attacked by Vex. The Hydra soon became active. Each Guardian filed their own accounts, the most notable from the activation being:

{V1}} I do not know what happened. It was loud suddenly. Louder than the gunfire. Everyone was shouting. Then it got bright.

{S3}} She was too close. We couldn’t get to her in time.

{M8}} I heard the charge before I saw it. When I turned, Lillian was being hit and Keiran nearly ended up with her.

The death was described as sudden by every account.

From what I conclude, Lillian and her Ghost were caught in the first beam fired. Her Ghost destroyed near instantly and she herself [filtered] and [filtered]. Fireteam member Keiran was closest, writing that he tried to run for her the moment the Vex started warming up to fire. In his words, “Nobody had noticed, and I wasn’t fast enough.”

Lillian and Martyr-19’s last recorded correspondence took place on [####-##-##]. One day before she was killed:

>>{Lillian[warlock, awoken]}

“I’m just saying that you should consider transferring out too. At least one day. Why should our entire lives revolve around this? There’s more than that! I want to learn, that’s how I can play a part.

Maybe one day it won’t be for the Vanguard, and instead it’ll be for me! Learning everything I can about flora, fauna, and planets from around the galaxy— it’s a dream. You need one too. Everyone around here does. Nobody seems to remember we’re humanity, not just fighting for it.

The fight won’t last forever. I know I’m nowhere near the first to say it.

Every war ends. You need something or someone besides your Ghost that keeps you going when the dust settles. We’re just guns otherwise.

Those drawings you do— ever thought about painting?

Start there!

Find something. Grow. Change. Love.

It’s human!! <3

I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, busy day!

Didn’t mean to get all profound. It’s been a long week.”

-

-

Many forgot Martyr’s existence as he locked so tightly to himself, that part is accurate. His fireteam, however, cared for him deeply. Lillian expressed such the most.

He cared for them too.

His loneliness did not have to persist, but he was afraid. I did not know what to do, so how could he? I do not blame him. From every old exchange I’ve read, neither did they.