#i should of probably made them look more battle damaged

[agent371]

Eat up now. I don't think I can do better than this ever again.

Heres the reference: (I couldn't not draw them to this)

@blumineck is the account

And here is the process with line art (1) the 1st final (2), then I put that in black and white and tried to fix the colours(3), then I did the actual final piece.

[champagnefountains]

So...Alastor went missing for a while after the extermination right? Would you be open to a story where the reader is taking care of Al after he gets back? Maybe still a little mad at him for vanishing, more worried about him being hurt...just the fall out that comes from not knowing if he was alive or not? Your first Lucifer story was wonderful!! You really have a solid foundation for this and I'm excited to see more from you!!

Aw, thank you so much! I'm really, really glad you enjoyed the Lucifer story! And omg, I love this idea...I live for angst so here's some more~!

ALASTOR - H.H.

A/N: They probably were able to rebuild the entire hotel in less than a day, but just to make it more dramatic, I made Alastor's disappearance two days long. Also, I'm not exactly too happy with the pacing here...so I apologise in advance ;-;

Word count: 2.8k+ words (I need to control myself...also unedited, sorta). Genre/other tags: Angst with good ending. OOC Alastor (I think?...sorry...). Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of blood. Talk about loss/death.

After the cancellation of this year’s extermination and Hell's victory against Heaven’s forces, Charlie and the team had spent the next couple of days repairing the damages caused. The team’s morale was as high as ever as they busied themselves reconstructing and making significant renovations to the hotel, their spirits brightening at the prospect of the potential influx of evil-doers to their establishment. There was no doubt that the hotel’s popularity had boomed, as there wasn’t a single soul in Hell that didn’t know about their contribution towards the annual culling. 

However, there was one thing that had been plaguing your mind since the end of the bloodshed: Alastor's whereabouts. Everyone, including yourself, knew that the Radio-Demon was more than capable of looking after himself, considering his high-regarded reputation in all the Nine Circles. However, it’s been two days since the battle and there wasn’t a single trace of him anywhere. And as his significant other, it bothered you to no end. And it wasn’t like you could call him either – Alastor strictly refused to use a mobile phone or any electronic device, no matter how much you pried. He didn’t even make any attempts to reach out to you, whether it be from your own portable radio that he gifted you, or even a small note or letter. Absolutely nothing.

Currently, the hotel has just completed its final transformation with big thanks to Lucifer and Charlie's magical powers and sorcery. With your distress multiplying with every passing second, you couldn't bring yourself to be as excited as the others. You silently excused yourself from the group by the main entrance, wandering off to the furthest side of the building and turning the corner. With a trembling sigh, you leaned against the wall, covering your mouth with your hands as a sob wracks through your body.

You hadn't felt as anxious as you were, in so, so long. It must've been the build up from the months-long preparations made to fend off Heaven to now, that had you overwhelmed. Yes, there was no doubt that Alastor was powerful, but he fought Adam head on – the very first man – which you were able to only catch minor glimpses of in the midst of battle. And that was probably the last time you saw him.

You didn't want to think about the possibility of loss. Because there's no way, right? ...Right? The others were also quick to reassure you plenty of times, sensing your growing unease with each passing day. But it did little to nothing to help ease your nerves. Preoccupied in your own despair, you failed to sense an approaching figure among the shadows.

"'Cher? What are you doing, hiding all the way down here?" A static-like voice called out, causing you to stiffen, "you should be celebrating with the others! You wouldn't want to miss out on such an exciting time!" Eyes widening, you swiftly pivoted yourself to face them. Low and behold, the source of your worries stood before you, all in one piece, smiling down at you with his usual Cheshire-like grin.

"...Alastor?" You weakly called out. Your wavering tone caused the Overlord to raise a brow, mild confusion taking over him. "Yes, my dear?" He asks with a tilt of his head. But it wasn't until he took a closer look at your distressed features that his expression softened a faction. "Darling, you're upset...why are you crying?"

Despite your immense relief, you couldn't help but send him a baffled look. "Wha-Why am I crying? Are you serious, Al?" You spat back incredulously. "You've been gone for two days! Two days! And I didn't know where or-or how you were! Can’t you even imagine how I must've felt when I couldn't find you after the fight?” Alastor only blinked at your sudden outburst. “And you don't even think to tell any of us where you've gone off to! I thought...I-I thought..." Your voice died down as a sob threatened to leave your throat. "I-I thought you were gone."

"Oh, dear, don't be silly," Alastor softly chuckles, fixing his monocle, "it'll take more than those pesky, little angels to get rid of me!" His lanky legs strided towards you, his head shaking in mild amusement. He stops just before you, leaning forward to pat your head reassuringly. Sniffling, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his waist, burying your head into his chest. It gave you the reassurance you wanted and needed – it was proof that he was here with you, physically. However, the action unexpectedly causes Alastor to stiffen. You furrow your brows, lifting your head to send him a questioning look.

"...Al? Are you okay?" You worriedly ask, slowly unwrapping yourself to inspect him. Usually, Alastor didn't mind whether you initiated physical contact and vice versa, especially considering that you had been together for a while now. You then glanced behind him and your surroundings in caution – there didn't seem to be anyone watching either, knowing that he wasn't as fond of PDA. 

As you pan your eyes towards his face, you were surprised to see a tensed expression. "N-Nothing to worry about, darling," he says through a forced smile, waving his hand dismissively before sharply pivoting himself the other direction. "Now, shall we go join the others now? They're probably wondering where we've both gone!" Nonchalant, he begins walking off with his hands crossed behind his back. That was...strange. Something was clearly wrong, you think to yourself.

"Al, wait!" You jog towards him, passing and stopping him in his tracks. "Is...is there something wrong?" You worriedly ask. "I just...I feel like you're not telling me something. I-If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

You felt your words die in your throat as a noticeably large, wet patch began to form against his dress shirt. You let out a startled gasp. "Wha–you're‐you're bleeding!" You cry in panic, hands raising and twitching in front of you with uncertainty. His expression darkening, Alastor stubbornly shook his head, gently pushing you aside by the shoulder, "Like I said, it's nothing to worry about. It's not but a small scratch! I'll be fine, dear–"

"No, you're not fine!" You interjected, eyes blurring in tears and wavering. Your hands shook as you gawked at the growing stain on his shirt. At that, you didn't miss the way Alastor's lips twitched in presumed pain, as small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. Gritting your teeth, you reach out to grab his wrist, preparing to pull him towards the hotel's entrance. "Come on, Al. W-We need to get you cleaned up–" A firm squeeze in your hand stopped you in your tracks as you turned back to face him, distressed.

"[Name]. I said I'll be fine," he sternly says, his voice contorting in static. Despite the sinister grin he displayed, it left you unfazed. You pinched your brows and balled your fists in frustration, staring at him in disbelief. "...What the hell is wrong with you?" You hiss at the deer-demon, "You're clearly not fine–you wouldn't be fucking bleeding right now if you were fine!"

Alastor clicked his tongue, "Darling, you're exaggerating too much, don’t you think? You don't need to fret—"

"Shut up! I-I don't give a damn who you think you are! Strong Overlord or not, I'm worried, okay?! I-I'll always be worried about you!" Angry tears began pouring from your eyes. "I was scared for my life when I didn't hear from you the past few days! I didn't know what happened to you–if you were okay or even alive! I-I couldn't even get a single blink of sleep last night, so don't fucking tell me to not worry!" Alastor's egotistical and prideful personality was not news to you and everyone else – you knew how stubborn he could be, and now was no exception. It was absolutely infuriating.

Alastor's grim expression eased at your growing distress, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he watched you messily wipe your face. You took a brief moment to compose yourself, your breaths shaky and uneven. "Look, just–I don't want to argue right now, okay?" You hiccup, "i-if you don't want the other's seeing you like this, just...I-I don't know, teleport us inside the hotel somewhere. Just anything, so I can stitch you up properly."

Begrudgingly, Alastor manifested his microphone from thin air. He didn't have any room to argue with you here. He then softly taps the ground with the bottom of the stand twice, casting a group of black shadows from the ground. They surrounded you both in a circular-like motion, completely filling your sights with a black void. There was a brief gust of wind and it didn't take long until they dissipated, the both of you now standing in what was assumed to be your new shared room in the hotel – it was nearly identical to your previous one before the reconstruction, save for the new wallpaper.  

"Remove your shirt. I'll get the kit," you immediately order as you point at the bed, gesturing for him to sit. You then disappear into the bathroom for a brief moment, grabbing the small first-aid kit under the sink before returning to the bedroom. Alastor had already sat himself down the edge of the bed, his dirty button-up and coat neatly folded on the floor, and his chest bare. You grimaced as you eyed the massive, fresh gash across his scarred chest, that was somewhat tended to with poor stitching.

You let out a disapproving sigh. "I expected your patching to be a little better than this,” you comment as you set the kit beside him, taking out some gauze and alcohol. Alastor rolls his eyes. "It's not everyday you get struck by an angelic weapon, dear," he shoots back sarcastically. There was a small stagger in your movement, your jaw clenching as a deep frown settled on your lips. So it was because of Adam that he's in this state, you sourly think. You try to not let the thought affect you too much as you begin disinfecting his wound.

While you were fixing him up, the both of you remained in complete silence. You actively chose to ignore his piercing gaze in the meantime, which practically burned through your skull as you maintained your focus solely on his wound. Your earlier frustrations didn't seem to simmer down either, deciding to keep quiet to prevent another one-sided shouting battle. As much as you loved Alastor, his lack of understanding towards your concerns vexed you to no end. Because, hypothetically speaking, what if he had actually died during his fight against Adam? If his body went missing, you were never going to find the closure you needed and were probably gonna go on with your life not knowing of his whereabouts. Your life would've been completely miserable with the constant grieving. And like Alastor smartly said, it wasn’t everyday that he’d be fighting a divine opponent, so definitive defeat wouldn’t be completely off of the table despite being quite powerful himself. 

The mere thought brought fresh tears to your eyes, which you were quick to blink away. ‘No…there’s no point dwelling in the past and what-if’s,’ you reprimand yourself. Alastor’s here, after all. That's the only thing that matters right now. But regardless, you still remained upset.

After a while and now satisfied with your craft, you neatly applied a bandage around his chest and waist. "...Don't put too much pressure on it for a while," you quietly advised as you began packing the equipment away. You continued to ignore his gaze, knowing that you'd lose your composure if you were to look at him. Without sparing him a glance, you lazily chucked the kit by the bedside table and made your way towards the door. Shortly after, you left the room without another word.

You found yourself aimlessly walking on the balcony facing the bar, near the main entrance. There, you saw Charlie walking up the stairs adjacent from you, who was quick to catch your approaching form. "[Name], there you are! I was just looking for you!" She cheerily says, skipping towards you with excited steps. "Everything looks so, so amazing, can you believe it?! Oh, oh! We all saw Alastor, by the way! I told you he was going to be fine–erm, [Name]?" The Princess forced her banter to a halt upon spotting your swollen, red eyes.

"Hey, hey, what happened?" She softly asks, coming forth to rub your back. You open your mouth to speak but consciously stop to think your answer through. You knew not to speak a word of Alastor’s state at the moment, knowing it would desecrate his persona. So you decide to keep it short and vague. 

"Alastor and I...we, uhm…had a small fight," you briefly explain with a tight-lipped smile. Charlie’s eyes softened in understanding. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did...do you wanna talk about it?” She kindly offers, holding your hand. You shake your head, “It’s alright, Princess. I’ll be okay in due time.” You didn’t want to dampen the overall mood and atmosphere, after all the hard work and sweat shed for this very moment. “Well, I mean, if you’re sure…” she hesitantly replies, giving you another quick look-over. “Say, how about we get you cleaned up a little and we head down and join the others? It’ll help clear your mind a little bit, yeah?”  

Bless her heart, you think with a small smile. With a nod, Charlie dragged you to the nearby restroom, where you splashed your face with water and did minor touch-ups to look somewhat decent. Shortly after, you joined the others by the main lounge, who all cheered and welcomed you with open arms. All the while, your mind automatically wandered to Alastor, who you knew was dwelling somewhere within the hotel. 

After a couple hours of celebration, you all decided to retire for the night, exhausted from the day's work. Charlie had sent you off with a small hug, wishing you luck as you slowly made your way back to your room. You felt your heart thump loudly against your ears as you spotted your room number in the distance, which only intensified as you reached for the knob and opened the door.

With a deep breath, you entered the room and to your surprise, you found Alastor where you had left him. However this time, he was already in his night-wear and was comfortably sitting upright and against the bed frame, legs under the covers and reading some book. He made no effort to acknowledge your presence as he hummed a random, sweet tune, licking a finger to flick a page of the novel he was supposedly engrossed in. You didn't know what would've irked you more – the fact that he wasn't addressing you right now or alternatively, if he were to go on about his day in his usual chirpy-self, and not bring up what had happened. Reciprocating his behaviour, you wordlessly went to the bathroom to do your usual night routine and changed into a comfortable set of pyjamas. When you were done, you beelined towards your side of the bed, stiffly slipping under the covers with your back facing him and pulling the covers close to your face. 

The tension was dripping as the room filled with an uncomfortable silence. You unconsciously found yourself pacing your own breaths, as if you were worried that you were breathing a sound wave too loud. You also didn't move a single inch from your spot, remaining stagnant like a statue. It remained that way for a short while, unable to find a single blink of sleep or tiredness, just as you did the past couple days.

“Darling, I know you’re awake…” Alastor says, finally breaking the silence as he shuts his book with a soft thud, placing it by the bedside table. There was a brief pause, as if he was waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t. You listen intently in silent anticipation as you dug yourself further into your pillow.

“I…I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. It wasn’t in my intentions to upset you,” he continues, “I didn’t mean to carelessly dismiss your concerns the way I did. I understand that you’re merely worried for me. After all, if had it been you in my place instead, I would’ve acted the same way, if not more. And I’m sorry for troubling you these past few days. It was due to my carelessness that made you disregard your own health and caused you so much distress. With that, I want to express my utmost gratitude to you for looking after me despite it all. I…I hope you can forgive me, darling.” 

It was simple and straight to the point. And yet, his words struck a chord with you, causing a new onset of tears to flow and dampen the bed sheets. Alastor wasn’t one to easily admit his faults and apologise the way he did, so his words had so much of an impact on you. Though you had your own few questions to ask him, you suppose that this was enough for the time being as you didn’t want another day to go by, remaining in conflict with each other. You turn yourself to face him, sitting up and tearfully looking up at him. Silent, Alastor looked back down at you in a hopeful manner, his usual grin on his face. “O-Of course, I forgive you,” you quietly replied as you carefully hugged his side, “I-I just…I want you to look after yourself better. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself if I had lost you then.” 

Huffing in relief, he softly snickers into your hair, running one of his claws through its strands. “Like I said, you won’t lose me, my dear. I’ll even wreak havoc across all of Hell to get back to you,” he cheesily coos as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You wetly chuckle at his remark, leaning into him closer. “That’s quite a huge commitment to make, Al. You promise you gonna keep your word for it?” you jokingly reply, playfully poking at his chest. Grin widening, Alastor boops your nose with a single digit, “that’s a guarantee, darling.” 

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I thought I wasn't going to have strong opinions about the Laios-Shuro fight, but...

Laios was right about this! Yes, they had 2 physical fights first, but it's important to note that Laios was right about this!

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^ -man who would literally kill to stay in this room and observe this private conversation.

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Sir, your unfaltering little wide-eyed, amiable smile while seriously considering topics that are obviously un-smile-worth has charmed me utterly. I wish to study you like an climate-entomologist yearns for the butterfly that causes storms.

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She seems fine.

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If I start screencapping Laios's and Marcille's faces in this fight, I will never stop because literally every panel is devasting.

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Kuro has done distinctly the most damage so far this fight, just stabbing and gnawing, and I think we should recognize and appreciate that fact.

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I really miss the animation we got of Rin's lightning blast slicing narrowly past Laios.

I love how fast, if reluctantly, Laios accepts that if - not, that Falin is a true "monster", inhuman and hurting people relentlessly and unapologetically, and thus she needs to be killed before she kills them, like any other monster. I also love that Marcille doesn't accept this. Characters!

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+1 to qualification to kingship! Kabru is one again surprised (you can tell by how he's not smiling) (though this might also be due to the significant injuries he just took).

I do have several emotions about how Falin immediately yanks away and kills Kabru, without touching Laios. That's her brother!!

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I really like this little cluster because it says to me that Shuro still has very good "do what Marcille says when she abruptly shouts magic-related directions in combat" instincts. He's a mirror of the "You're already on the Christmas card, buddy" meme - more like, "You're still on the Christmas card." Just like Namari: no one really stops being fond of, and battle companions with, these weirdos.

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I think the most painful part of this probably is that Marcille isn't certain. Maybe this IS her fault. At minimum, she knows she might have mixed the dragon's soul into Falin's, which enabled this even if it didn't create it. But she can't 100% rule out the possibility that it's more her fault than that - which is, of course, the absolute worst thing to say to all of these people looking at her violently askance for using dark magic.

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yeahhhhhh "Lunatic Magician" REALLY lacks the oomph of "Mad Mage"

ANGRY LAIOS! It's such a rare expression on him, it's exciting to see.

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Yesss look at my man Chilchuck use available tools in his environment and save this little goober who thinks it's cool to resent adults.

I really like how they show the social consequences of dark magic. Much beyond Shuro's anger: the other mages are now shutting Marcille down, especially where resurrection magic is concerned. She's made herself untrusted by her peers, whether or not the magic she used on Falin is truly "evil."

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I really enjoy the, like, narratively obligatory, not actually real (well, maybe to Rin) "will they-won't they" between Kabru and Rin. In the story that this isn't, where Kabru is the protagonist with his quirky gang of found family who are helping him save the island and prevent another bloodbath like in his angsty backstory, she IS the One (Human) Female on the Team who is obviously his love interest - often the first to challenge him, battle mage rather than healer ie a Strong Female Character who nonetheless doesn't use unfeminine brute force, forced by happenstance to kiss...

Alas! Kabru is not the protagonist of this story, so Rin shall remain disappointed.

Also this montage of people healing and reuniting while in the background Laios and Shuro whale on each other remains SO funny. Flawless comedic timing.

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Alright, hot take time: I feel like all the debate I've seen about the Shuro/Laios fight depict it as revealing the friendship basically shattered, and never real in the first place. Whereas I'm mostly warmed by how real it clearly was despite everything that just happened?

Shuro is operating on no food and less sleep, desperate to save the woman he idolizes without truly understanding her loves, who is now apparently a monster who nearly slaughtered his most loyal followers. In the past like 2 weeks, Laios has: watched his sister die to save his life (his little sister, whom he is supposed to protect), walked headfirst into a nigh-unwinnable fight to get her back, held her skull in his hands, got her back and held her in his arms, lost her again about 6 hours later in an even more unwinnable fight, which was proven even more unwinnable when the Mage twisted the dungeon itself against them, saw her again but as a murderous monster now (which might be due to the magic he agreed to use to resurrect her), swiftly and sternly resigned himself to fighting and potentially killing her (his little sister! whom he is supposed to protect!), had her recognize him (and no one else!) despite her monstrosity, watched her be killed (again!) in part thanks to him distracting her, except it didn't work and then she fled.

This is an immature, ignoring-immediate-needs (ie, food, healing) knock-down drag-out fight between two men at the absolute ends of their ropes, who, sure, have built-up resentments against each other and the world, and an inciting incident pushing them over the edge - but mostly neither of them can punch in the face the fact that they can't save Falin. So they punch each other instead.

I won't even address the prologue to the fight, where Laios tells him about the black magic and Shuro promptly tries to strangle him then levels a sword at him. Kabru already nailed that: Shuro was worried about Falin - that the magic had hurt her, that the social consequences would be worse. Laios knew this enough that he didn't fight back, then. But now?

The first shove is Shuro demanding, Don't you fucking DARE give me false hope.

I cannot emphasize enough how hard I would also slap someone for suggesting that I wasn't taking the death and monsterization of my younger sibling seriously.

Shuro knows it, too. He doesn't respond to this, he just punches, and Laios punches back. Shuro doesn't speak again until Laios knocks him all the way down, and

Shuro is at his absolute depth. The lowest point he (feels that he) can go. He cannot save Falin. He's shamed himself as a leader and heir by getting his people killed (they got better, but that's beside the point.) He's been beaten in hand-to-hand combat by this idiot northern peasant. He lets down his guard and pride enough to mutter this self-deprecation aloud...and the idiot northern peasant hears, compounding every shame - and it's infuriating especially because he doesn't even hear properly, just like he never hears properly - he's so frustrating in his friendly but oblivious constant irritation and THIS, Shuro can still be furious about, to avoid his grief/hopelessness/self-loathing/shame. This, he can still fight about!

So he does.

They're both wrong in this fight. They're both right. Laios was consistently inconsiderate; knowing this about himself - because it's not like by his early 20s he didn't know that he didn't Get people the way most people Get people - he should've made more of an effort, and picked up any of the hints Shuro was laying down. Shuro was too caught up in his own pride and out-of-place manners: when it was clear that Laios wasn't going to pick up on even the strongest "hint", he should've said something plainly instead of just letting his resentment build until he was effectively lying to Laios about, if not their entire friendship, certainly the shape of it.

But they were friends. They are friends. This isn't the posture or conversation of two guys who don't like each other.

It's two guys who are still, in fact, fucking exhausted, physically and emotionally - but they just got rid of a lot of extra, furious, helpless energy, so they're finally satisfied to just sit. Their posture is relaxed and casual; their conversation straightforward and companionable, if serious.

This is two guys who've sat like this many time at a campfire, in just these poses. Who've kept watch together late at night and stayed awake by talking.

Laios cares about Falin more than anyone in the world, and even after the words and blows they just exchanged, he's still willing to put Shuro's suit to her. Shuro didn't tell Falin he was interested in her until he proposed to her, but he's telling it all to Laios. Admittedly, this is because Laios is, Shuro assumes, the closest he'll ever get to being able to tell it all to Falin...but still. And he admits vulnerability, which he clearly wouldn't have done before, even to his most loyal and loved companions as they urged him to eat and sleep.

Yeah, they're buddies. If I had to describe it, I'd say: their relationship was built on unsteady, false foundations, but they built something sturdy on it anyway, and the sturdy thing survives even when the foundations shake and re-settle.

Lol at Shuro. "I'm going to report you to the local authorities for your crimes because it's the right thing to do. But if you survive, I'll totally use my power and influence to help you flee the country, and live peacefully on my estate beyond where an extradition treaty can reach you."

[scatterbrainedbot]

I AM SPINNING I AM PACING I AM FULL ON FROLICKING IM SO EXCITED

@d1sc0rd1a THANK U FOR THESE TAGS

okayokayokayokay so pretty much all of these questions will be Officially Answered properly in the character design/intro pages im working on but also i am physically vibrating with excitement about the fact that you noticed all these details and i have very little self control so! lore dump time!!!

(minor tw for mentions of leos self-harm/self-destructive anxious behaviors and unhealthy coping skills)

- mikey does indeed have curly fur! i believe he would be considered a 'rex' rat (pictured on the left) for this trait? though the curls can be more easily seen on mice (pictured on the right). or, at least it seems that way. have not delved too deeply into the details of rodent genes and husbandry, but id assume its the same sort of mutation considering curly haired mice are also referred to as rex sometimes? either way hes a extra floofy bby 🧡

-as for raphie, unfortunately being more fluff and less shell than the average rapheal comes with its downsides. especially if you and your brothers occasionally encounter things like territorial dogs, hungry cats, or sewer crocodiles while exploring places ur dad said not supposed to go. (most of his scars will have more ninja related stories, but his ear i think got messed up from something very animal. probably around age 11 ish? old enough to sneak out from dads protection but young enough to not fully know how to handle himself alone against real danger. thankfully his ear injury looks worse than it actually is for the most part, as the damage was largely to the outer ear. his hearing wasnt super affected, except that he now has a bit of a harder time being able to track/pinpoint noises origins if its on his right side.)

-also yep! dons got some glasses that just clip/rest on the bridge of his nose! theyre mostly just for home use, as they do fall off if hes knocked around. in the field he has some goggles he tends to use (theyre helpful as they have multiple additional functions like heat-imaging, extra zoom/telescoping, and recording capabilities. but also theyll give him headaches if he wears them for too long without breaks). contacts are theoretically also an option but he absolutely hates the sensation of putting them in. so sometimes when hes tired he'll just not bother with either clips or goggles and just squint and struggle. leo hates when he does that lol.

-speaking of leo, he is def an anxious baby :) he has a few patches of fur missing on his hand cos he has the tendency to tug on it while hes thinking. he yanked and chewed on his own tail a lot when he was younger too, which is why when hes older he usually wears some wraps to cover the scars left from that behavior. he finds those scars specifically to be kinda embarrassing and shameful because they werent from any battle or life-lesson, just his own 'inability to control himself'. all of his brothers have repeatedly called him out on the fact that that is not a healthy way to think about his anxiety or mental health, but leo insists hes fine. hes kinda convinced himself that a proper warrior always has control over his own body* and his own thoughts, thus he should be able to just like willpower-brute-force his way into 'being better'. (this line of thinking pisses raph off so much he has to leave and go hit something)

Splinter also tries to talk him through some of that internalized guilt/shame/everything, but splinters very metaphorical, poetic, and indirect when it comes to talking about Big Things, which combined with how much leo gets caught in his own head, makes it kinda hard to gauge how much these talks actually help

*this is made extra fun considering leos also ftm trans, so he is faced with a body that fundamentally disobeys him perhaps more than the average rat-man.

-and im still going back and forth between a few species for splinter, but im leaning mostly towards an African Spurred Tortoise! they have these beautiful if kinda subtle geometric shell patterns and are the third largest species of tortoise in the world. the only thing that doesnt fit perfectly with Splints is that (allegedly) their lifespan in captivity is around 50ish years, whereas im p sure Tortoise Splinter is well over 75, probably closer to 90 when the boys are born and hes mutated into Old Man Papa.

but maybe hes just a particularly long lasting African Spurred Tortoise.

the Hamato family has taken very good care of him for many decades after all. :)

(well. until everything all fell apart, that is.....)

[sciderman]

you know i'm kind of obsessed with the tragedy of gwen stacy in the tasm movies because she's - she's such an interesting, tragic creature. we get into it a little in tasm1, that. you know, her father is a police captain - you know, authoritative. incredibly protective of her.

and looking at it, gwen is constantly the victim of men deciding what's best for her. her father decides it's best for her that she stay away from peter. peter decides it's best too, obviously, even though it hurts. it's not a question of what gwen wants.

thinking of the scene in tasm where gwen confides in peter, as she's cleaning his wounds, that she knows what this is - every day she sees her father strap a badge to his chest and she doesn't know if he's going to make it home or not.

gwen's powerless - she has these men in her life that she loves that are constantly making dangerous decisions that put their own lives in danger, and she's constantly expected to sit by passively and do nothing and pray for them to get home safely. like her own desires don't matter. she wants them to be there, she wants to have a say in what these men do, because she loves them and they're important to her. but she has no power. she knows that what they're doing is noble and good for the world, but she is sidelined and never listened to. she has no superpowers, no badge, and no say in the matter.

and her father gets killed. doing something stupid and heroic. and she wasn't involved, and she was powerless to prevent it. and even still, after his death, he's trying to push gwen out of the way of danger. strip her of agency in her own life. she can't be with peter. she doesn't get a say in the matter.

of course that doesn't work out, and peter and gwen wind up back together - but peter is eaten up with guilt, and still thinks he shouldn't be with gwen because gwen is safer without him, yadda yadda, and gwen is sick of it. gwen is sick of men dictating what becomes of her. what she can and can't have. where she should and shouldn't be. so.

i always made fun of this bit of script - it's so, so funny.

"i break up with you peter. i break up with you."

i make fun of it all the time, but i get it. i get why it's written this way. the tasm2 script isn't subtle. gwen is pointedly telling peter that she is calling the shots. peter cannot dictate her fate. this is her choice. she breaks up with him. she is the one with power in this dynamic. she is taking the power. she is not his damsel that needs protecting. she is allowed to tell peter what she wants, and make her own decision about what's best for her.

cut to the end, where peter webs gwen to a car. he wants her out of the line of fire. even though she's proven she's helpful and capable, more so than peter. peter wants her out of harms way, so that he can do something heroic and dangerous.

gwen is SICK of it!! she's going to be heroic and dangerous too. if these men can throw themselves into the line of fire with little care for the people they leave watching helplessly in the rafters than, by god, gwen can do it too. she's not going to watch helplessly as peter fights his battle on his horse, dick swinging, swords drawn. and she's not going to passively sit by as peter gets himself killed because actually, peter's not as smart as he thinks he is.

he's just stupid enough to take the hits and scrape himself off the pavement afterwards. gwen is the one with the plan. and if gwen weren't there, peter might not have been able to pull everything off. he probably would've eventually taken them down in the end, but he would've definitely taken more of a beating, and more property damage, and potentially, more civilian casualties. it was a good thing gwen was there. female excellence. it's not always about who can take a hit.

of course, in the end up - gwen winds up in peril, and no. she doesn't have powers that can save her. and, these men who try and do everything to protect her - they're fallible. but it was her choice. her choice to do the heroic thing, despite her fragility. her choice to step into the line of fire, without super-strength or spider-reflexes. and i think it's a poetic, heroic way to go.

one thing though, that i feel is mismanaged, almost infuriatingly so – is how underdelivered on gwen's death as a heroic gesture. in the end it becomes more about peter's guilt than it does about gwen's sacrifice. because they still wanted to have the iconic "fall" scene from the comics. so, in the end, gwen becomes powerless. she's mid fall. she can't do anything. she has to wait for peter to save her, in the end.

it's infuriating because captain stacy's death is unfalteringly heroic. he dies to save peter.

gwen puts herself in the line of fire to save peter. in the same way her father did. but she's robbed of the heroic framing her father gets because in the end, she has to be saved. in the end, it isn't framed like she saved peter. it's framed like peter failed to save her.

so we get a peter parker pity party instead of actually, what should be a beautiful, heroic send-off for gwen stacy, who became a hero despite every man trying to sideline her.

tl;dr tasm gwen deserved the same heroic framing her father got but hollywood messed up again because they don't know how to do female hero stories

[just-french-me-up]

dreamling 16 or 23 for the kiss prompts? 👀

23. "A kiss in relief" | Have some Prince!Dream / Knight!Hob as a treat because this concept tickles my brain divinely!

The battle was won.

Already the camp was filling up, some soldiers shedding their dirtied armours while others were being rushed to the healing tents. The chaos of battle clung to them still, brewing amongst them and would soon, no doubt, burst into the clamour of celebration. Regardless, all heads bowed as the prince exited the command post, guards following close behind.

Morpheus would celebrate with his men, as all good leaders must, in due time. He would be expected to give a speech, rousing words for those gathered under his command, and solemn ones for those who had fallen, but he could not focus on either now. He had to know first. He had to make sure.

A prince does not announce himself upon entry. It was with tight apprehension that he stepped into the Lord Commander's tent, his guards following suit. He braced himself for blood, gushing wounds and grunts of pain, but was met with a much more pleasant (and relieving) sight.

"My prince."

Hob would bow lower, Morpheus knew, but his movements were hindered by his squire, who was busy removing the various parts of his armour. A quick glance was enough to know the blood staining his shirt and skin was not his. Good. Morpheus suppressed a smile.

"Lord Commander."

Like the rest of his men, Hob looked spent, covered with the grime of the battlefield, his hair sticking to his forehead, but victorious nonetheless. He, too, ought to be with his men soon, share the glory together as brothers in arms. But not yet.

"We have much to discuss after today's victory," Morpheus said, before glancing back at his guards. "Leave us."

The soldiers stepped out without a word, although Morpheus knew they wouldn't stray far. Hob gave a quick nod to his squire to dismiss him, and as the boy left, they stood alone. Hob had not drawn another breath that Morpheus pulled him close, tasting the battle on his lips, blood, salt and dirt, and something else, something distinctly, comfortingly Hob's. Hob sighed into his mouth, hot breath tickling his cheek, bringing him closer still. By the time he let go, Morpheus had gone almost dizzy, holding on to a still armoured shoulder.

"Careful, I may get a taste for winning you battles," Hob smiled against his lips, "if this is the thanks I get."

"Are you hurt?"

"Bruised, at most. It will probably look worse than it feels."

Morpheus furrowed his brow, suspicious. Hob was hardly reliable when it came to pain. He would suffer agony and wave it off as nothing more than a scratch. Morpheus would have to wait for the whole armour to come off to see the extent of the damage.

"You know," he said as he started undoing the laces of Hob's vambrace. "Lord Commanders usually stay at the commanding post to oversee the battle."

"Well, I guess your Lord Commanders are usually pretty shit, then."

Morpheus shot him a disapproving look, the piece of metal falling on the floor with a dull "clank".

"I do not want you hurt."

"You should have made me Lord Jester then," Hob chuckled. "Master of the Drapes and Napkins. No chance for bruises there."

He cupped Morpheus' cheek, his thumb tracing the line of his cheekbone. He did like to jest, that one. Unfortunately his true talents lay in the sword, which inevitably placed him at the end of another. Perhaps that would be another reason to seek peace during his reign, Morpheus told himself. A selfish reason, but a motivating one nonetheless.

"I always come back to you, don't I?"

"Only because I order you to."

"And I wouldn't dream of disobeying my prince."

"Good."

Send me a kissing prompt?

[unma]

I'm not going to be able to write my typical long rambles for a bit (need to catch up on important work), but here's a short list of things I wanna talk about with the latest canto.

Spoilers, of course.

The entire Canto taking place after the ending of Don Quixote (the first Don, I will not call him the Actual Don because our Don is as much Don Quixote as he is) is not something I expected, but makes so much sense and made for a wonderful story. There are themes of identity, struggling to live under a broken system and GOD THE FAMILIAL TIES. THE FIGHT AGAINST THE TWO MIDBOSSES + THE PRIEST HAD SUCH MAGNIFICENT STORY BUILD UP. AND THE PRIEST'S ENTIRE MOVESET. UGGGH I WANNA TALK ABOTU IT

Hey. Outis. What did you mean by that. We all know what I'm talking about, right? This is the first time I know of that she's actually given even a smidge of info about herself somewhat directly. Somewhat. Everything else is just in how she knows things and acts. Here she is asking a very specific question and god, I need to know more about her now.

Good job Sinclair. And everyone else. But good job Sinclair.

Vergilius with Sanson's face/mask is cursed.

I continue to feel so so bad for the Bloodfiends. They did the best they could in a world that gave them only two horrible options. I couldn't help but compare La Manchaland to the Tokyo Ghoul:RE ending, because the hemobars reminded me of the artificial meat, except in TG:RE it worked and here, well. We saw how that went. I think it's a great idea to start with the after of their solution; this isn't a situation with a possible solution, they tried that and failed. Who knows if there is one that works? Does it matter now that they're all dead?

I'm going to be very weird about Camille once this is all said and done, but I do want to note that the pretty boy being turned into a flower and having a name very clearly gotten from Carmilla the flower (and maybe the book? Haven't read it yet so idk if he's taken from there) is very cheeky. I still wish I could've besting him up myself. This isn't me critiquing the writing, this is me being weird.

The QTE in the ending cutscene of the boss fight was cool and really added to the feeling of fighting against and overcoming a clearly superior foe.

I wanna hug Don Quixote the First. He's such a ray of sunshine and deserved better. Even if he was somewhat delusional, at least he genuinely cared for his family.

What happened to Hong Lu's sister? Did she just vanish? I didn't notice until later on, so I'll probably need to go back and check myself.

Bari is the Librarian of Death (edit: Nameless Bookhunter, thanks for the correction AE)? Idfk and idc for now. If Bari ends up showing up again or a moot of mine decides they wanna talk about it, maybe I'll look into it.

The familial themes here are most certainly also going to be related to Hong Lu's story, which once more is a reason I really should get to reading all the books for this game.

Ryoshu accepting death from the possibility of fighting Don Qui the second was really funny.

The abno fights here are really good, and I love how Limbus is making unbreakable coins the standard from now on. Makes it so you can't just blaze through fights taking no damage, and these battles genuinely feel difficult. That's good. Their designs and mechanics are also pretty easy to understand and match with their ego gifts pretty well. God I wish we had more Rupture ids that could stack as much count as the Lasso abno.

Sancho fight was cool as hell. The clashable 10 speed skill was so good and made it feel like a massive improvement on the Cassetti fight. So good. On use coin power did mess me up a little given it doesn't show up in the clash numbers, but that was on me for not reading tbh.

Fun fact: final boss can be Meatlantern soloed really easily. So easy in fact that that's how I cleared it. Doing it with a full team didn't end well for me. The solo's also really consistent, which is nice.

Mili song is really good. As usual. I need to go listen to it again. I need an in-game mix. I need it. The childishness of Sancho's side of the tune compared with the seriousness of first Don's side is lovely.

Also. Please, in the final clash where you use Don's base ego. I hope you looked at the name of the ego and the name of Don the First's attack. Please. It's such a good detail. And it's so much better when you remember that Sancho was always the one making weapons for Don. He calls Sancho's lances much more graceful than his. It's so lovely. You can tell these two genuinely love each other. It's so good.

Also the fact that basically every fixer we went in with got wiped out by weakened Bloodfiends really shows just how powerful these bloodfiends are. Camille had to resort to using ego gear to survive. Sheesh.

That'll be all for now. Expect a long ramble on any of these points when I'm more free, aka never.

[siblingshuffle]

Sibling Shuffle: Suspicion

“What? Why on earth would Dr. Wily make a robot that fights robots that HE reprogrammed?”

“I’m not sure. …Maybe I should check on her, just to be safe— huh?”

“What? What is it?”

“The lab door - it’s locked from the inside!”

—————

Sorry again for the delay!

————— LORE:

So. I’m not sure if it’s really established if Bass was really that badly damaged from Shade Man or if he was playing it up, but Piano did sustain heavy damage. That being said, she always was more of a strategist than a battle-hungry fighter, so I can’t imagine that she didn’t see this as an opportunity to accomplish her goals with a minimal amount of conflict.

As for the Lights, Dr. Light was always very optimistic, but he had a strange feeling about his daughter’s new alleged ally. Not enough that he would refuse fixing her (he’s way too nice to do that) but definitely enough that Blues decided to look into who built her. That search wasn’t going very well… Until Dr. Light got a good look at Piano’s systems, and realized just how similar they were to Roll’s.

This was weird to him for several reasons:

Internal systems often look very different from Robot Master to Robot Master.

Roll is a first-generation Lightbot, making it strange for someone would copy her design - there have probably been many advancements in technology since her creation that would be more efficient, but Piano’s systems look almost the same as Roll’s.

Roll is a Helper robot/Child, making it weird that someone would copy her design to make a combat robot. While the public may know her as the heroic Super Fighting Robot, Roll wasn’t built with that in mind, hence her childlike design. Piano also has a childlike design, but she identified herself as a robot built for combat (making design choices like a child’s face and robot hair very strange).

So. Someone very likely copied Roll’s design. And that Someone knew how to do it and knew how to design a core strong enough to support a robot like Piano, and knew how to build weapons similar to Roll’s Mega Buster. And guess who fits that criteria and is a serial plagiarist?

——— This next section is just breaking down Blues’s List of People Who (Probably) Didn’t Build Piano (at least, the candidates he listed aloud.)

Cossack Robotics Laboratory: He looked into them first because Dr. Cossack did build a combat robot in the past (even if it was under duress). I decided to go with one of the few things I know about the Megamix/Gigamix continuity: the whole thing with Skull & Ring Man’s functions. I went with Skull Man being the only CossackBot made for combat, while Ring Man was made to be like a detective (though he hadn’t been activated as a detective - his first time waking up was with Wily’s programming installed). Unlike that version of Skull Man, though, Sibling Shuffle Skull Man was repurposed once Kalinka was safely un-kidnapped - now he’s like her bodyguard (just to be sure she is never re-kidnapped). (Credit for that last idea.)

Geoworks International: His investigation into Geoworks was probably the quickest lol. He kinda just called up Tempo and was basically like “Hey, you get any new sisters since Rhythm? No? Yeah, I didn’t think Dr. LaLinde built her anyway.” (He didn’t want to speak to Dr. LaLinde directly, so called his best friend instead lol)

The Military: The energy consumption of robots with independent thought was a bit high** for the US*** government to want any. They have plenty of Joes, instead. Sniper, Gunner, Hammer, Rider, Apache, Cannon… and those have been getting the job done well so far. If it ain’t broke, you know?

———————

Footnotes:

*The events of the 6th Game. I can’t imagine that with the sponsor of the tournament gone (for all intents and purposes) they would keep it going another year. And with Wily breaking out of jail & causing a ruckus so often, I assume even if making more fighting robots wasn’t illegal, it would be very much frowned upon/side-eyed nervously

**Blues himself serves as an example. Granted, Robot Master technology becomes more and more efficient as the timeline progresses, but even then I think the government would be… hesitant to implement technology that Dr. Wily consistently reprograms.

***This assumption is based on this map from Megaman 8, which implies Light Labs to be somewhere in America.

————

I’ll try to get the next Minicomic out in a good amount of time. (Might answer questions / comments in the meantime? Idk)

[jpitha]

Humans rig stuff together

The battle had been close. The Gren Warfinder had completely surprised them. They flipped nearby on a stolen drive and had started pounding the convoy. They were clearly trying to cut supply lines to the Colony in an attempt to starve them into surrendering. More than half of the ships in the convoy were destroyed before the Coalition was able to mount a response. Iixan was thankful that their ship was only mostly destroyed instead of completely destroyed. The Coalition dreadnought could waste no resources to repair though. They offloaded the cargo, handed out a case of multi-species ration bars and said that if the crew couldn’t fix the ship, someone would be by in 30 solar days or so to rescue them. With a ‘luck be with you’ they flipped away, giving chase to the Gren.

Iixan was ordered by the captain to assess the damage. The hull was holed in at least five places and two of them were too large to patch. They were going to be in suits for the duration. That was frustrating, but survivable.

What wasn’t survivable was the fact that two of the three reactors were offline, with one of them reduced to slag. Iixan found himself next to the non slagged reactor with the three human crew members standing over it. They stood around the reactor, one with their hands on their hips. Iixan didn’t know much about human body language, but they knew that pose was an important one.

He found their comm channel and clipped in. “…I’m telling you, we can just do a hard restart with something in place of the fusion fuse.”

“That’s insane. The fuse exists for a reason. If we let the field get too strong then the whole thing will collapse.”

“Is it better to have a rickety reactor and be able to Flash home, or no reactor and sit here, cold in our suits, eating-“ here the human shuddered “-multi-species ration bars for a month while we wait for the Coalition to remember we’re stuck out here?”

“Okay, wait. Maybe we can split the difference. What if we- oh hey Iixan! What’s up?”

At the mention of his name, the three humans turned to face Iixan. Their suits were bulkier and armored where his was just barely a skin of synthcloth and a helmet. He always wondered why human suits always looked like battle armor. Their large bulbous helmets were clear now, but they could be completely blackened, or even mirrored when necessary. Iixan always felt a little uncomfortable when multiple humans turned to give him their full attention. “Uh, Commander Mizzen asked me to do a damage assessment.” He peered around the humans at the three reactors. “Looks… bad?”

The first human nodded and gestured towards the pile of melted metal, still smoking slightly. The light of a nearby star shone through the smoke, giving it a pretty effect. “Reactor three is toast. There’s no fixing that one. Reactor one is offline with… minor damage. Reactor two is online and keeping us alive for now. We’re trying to decide if we can rig Reactor one to work enough to Flash home.”

“Rig?”

“You know” The second human shrugged in their suit. “Make it work enough to get us somewhere. It’s not fixing it, not really. Just like pretending it’s fixed to the point where it doesn’t realize it’s broken and it’ll run until it notices that it’s actually broken.” The other two looked at him and he looked embarrassed. “Figuatively that is.”

Iixan’s upper arms crossed themselves and made a motion like rubbing warmth into his arms. “And that works?”

“It’s a little more than pretending it’s going to work.” The first human sighed. “We can get it going, but it won’t be pretty and it probably won’t be… that safe. I know your sapient group is more sensitive to high magnetic fields and the reactor is going to be… leaky so you should probably tell the captain to keep the reactor hall humans only if we get it running.”

“You’ll be all right?”

The third human had a strange lilt to his speech. Iixan asked once and he said that he grew up in a place called ‘Minnesota.’ “Oh yah, it’ll be fine, but doncha know, it’ll be a mite dangerous for everyone. No worries though, we’ll make it work enough to Flash.”

The first human nodded. “Come back in a demicycle Iixan, you’ll see.”

Iixan completed his survey and reported to the captain. While he was out, people were able to seal some of the smaller holes to the point where you could take your helmet off in a few rooms. That would make eating easier at least.

One demicycle later, and Iixan returned to the reactor hall. The slagged reactor was in even more pieces than he thought possible, and Reactor one was partially disassembled. Iixan swore that he saw melted parts of Reactor three wired into the reactor. When he clipped into the comm channel they turned. “Oh Hi Iixan! We’re just about ready to test.”

Iixan pointed at the parts. “What are the… melted parts?”

“Oh, that was Will’s idea. We stole some of the… less melted parts from Reactor three to try and kick Reactor one over. They’re not exactly the same model, but I think it’ll be close enough. Just had to put in a few bodge wires in to get power and signal where it needed to be.”

Peering closer, Iixan saw that there was nearly an entire plain’s worth of wires roughly soldered into different parts of the reactor, crossing back and forth and across. The Reactor looked utterly broken. He looked up at the humans. “This… will work?”

Will smiled. “One way to find out, right? We’re going to force a hard restart and see if it’ll work. Tell the Captain to get ready, okay?”

Iixan made a gesture of supplication to the Machine Spirits and called the Captain. The Captain was just as dubious as Iixan was, but agreed to let them try. He signaled Will and the other two and they made that odd gesture of theirs where they curl their large fingers together except for their shortest one and stick it straight into the air.

“Here we go!” Will reached deep inside the Reactor and flipped some switches that were added while they were bogding.

After Will flipped the levers, the three of them jumped back almost as if they were injured. Iixan took another step back as the reactor spun up. The reactor hall had no atmosphere so he coulnd’t hear anything, but he could feel it. It had a thrumming vibration that was getting faster and faster. Iixan wasn’t a reactor technician but even he knew it didn’t sound right. The thrumming was… off balance somehow? It also sounded rougher? Still, the vibration was more and more intense until it felt like the grated floor was a shake table moving them around.

Suddenly, there was a prismatic flash and a shaft of pure white light shot out of the reactor towards the back wall. The humans jumped back and one of them reached towards a bundle of wires that was draped on the floor towards a wall when Will shouted “No! Leave it! We knew containment might leak. It’s otherwise holding steady. Let me refactor.” Will glanced down at his pad and furiously typed and slowly, the white beam faded.

It felt like the room would shake apart, and the reactor blurred in Iixan’s vision in a disconcerting way, but it was running. Will and the other two bounded up to Iixan. “That’s as good as we’re going to get it I think. It’s running at around 74.8%. If we run Reactor two at 112% We should be able to Flash home. We’ll have to stay in our suits, but that’s a sight better than hanging around here.”

The Captain was stunned when Iixan told him and demanded to see for himself. He was led to the Reactor hall but Will had warning him not to enter due to the danger. He stood in the open doorway watching the Reactor vibrate and blur as Reactor two ran with yellow and orange warnings all over the indicators as it was… gently overloaded. “Ancestors. You got it running.” He looked at Will. “How?”

Will demurred. “Oh, just a little bit of experience with these kind of Reactors and a human willingness to rig up a temporary solution. If it’s stupid and works, it’s not stupid.”

The Captain met Will’s gaze. “No. It’s still stupid. But right now we need some stupid. Well done. Now pardon me, I need to get the calculations to Flash home started before that-“ he points at the rigged reactor “-fails and traps us somewhere even worse than here.”

[katsona-the-katsequel]

Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad Activity Report

Part 1

(As I mentioned before, all of this was retrieved and translated from the P3 Club Book)

4/6 (Mon) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

It's Kirijo...

Today is April 6th... No, it's already past midnight. So, to be precise, it's the early hours of the 7th. A new member has arrived at Iwatodai dorm. He is a boy who seems a little quiet, but exudes a mysterious air about him.

Yes, to use a cliché phrase, he has that kind of aura that makes you feel like there is something shining there.

The Chairman had told us about his "potential" beforehand, but to be able to walk the whole way from the station to the dormitory without getting flustered during the Dark Hour... Marvelous! I'm really surprised!

It seems that he has not yet Awakened, but I am sure that he will be a great asset to our team. Today may be a fateful day for us.

Hehe... I seem to be in a surprisingly good mood. Let's hope that my hunch is correct and that I'll finally be able to put an end to my sadness of the past 10 years.

4/7 (Tue) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Well, it's Takeba. There are no club activities today. Oh, I guess escorting the transfer student who arrived last night to school this morning counted as part of the activities. He is, to put it nicely, "calm and collected," but from my perspective, he's way more than cool, and I don't know what he's thinking... well, you shouldn't say anything bad without knowing the facts.

Also, that idiot Junpei Iori from my class is getting a little too close to the new transfer student, so I made sure to tell him not to mention the Dark Hour thing. That's it. This is Takeba.

4/8 (Wed) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

Following on from last night, I was on a shadow patrol again tonight. The patrol area was the main street from Iwatodai Station to Moonlight Bridge.

Since the beginning of this month, there have been more and more rumors about shadows, but contrary to expectations, there are not many of them. To be honest, it's not enough.

I guess we have no choice but to build up our fighting power as soon as possible and begin our assault on that dreaded tower, Tartarus. They'll be gathering there. It should be a more efficient way to proceed with our operations than patrolling in the hopes of a chance encounter. Well, now is the time to lie low...

Ah, that's right. Tonight I found an unexpected find. A detailed report will be provided at a later date.

It's unclear whether it will be an effective fighting force, but it looks like it could be interesting in many ways.

Oh, and a message from Takeba to Ikutsuki-san: "It's embarrassing, so please stop the indiscriminate attacks of puns."

4/9 (Thu) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

It's Kirijo. During the Dark Hour, we were attacked by a large Shadow unlike any we had seen before.

The Arcana was the Fool.

For more details, please see the attached report.

…Today's report may be a little too brief, but due to a series of shocking events, I'll have to be forgiven.

Above all, he is a newbie... He seems to be a little out of control, but he awakened to two Persona at the same time.

What if...

Anyway, the confusion on this matter has subsided.

I will provide a written report as soon as possible.

Oh, and there was some damage to the exterior walls and windows of the dormitory, but the overall damage seems to be minor. We plan to place an order for repairs with a contractor from our group as early as tomorrow.

4/10 (Fri) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

The damage caused by the large Shadow last night was greater than expected. Mitsuru said it wasn't a big deal, but it was a big burden on Takeba, as it was her first real fight. She's probably not going to be able to use her Evoker for a few days, especially due to mental fatigue.

The damage to the dormitory itself was even worse than it appeared, with several optical fiber cables for the internet broken.

Also, the newbie collapsed after the battle and remains unconscious. It seems that the cause was excessive mental concentration in order to control his Persona, but it is unclear when he will return.

It's true... I can't help it. I'll fight for anyone who can't fight for themselves... Hey, Mitsuru, what's with you all of a sudden... Whoa, wait a second...

(Some loud bang sound)

...Additional information from Kirijo. Akihiko has been diagnosed with a broken rib and will need one month to fully recover. For the time being, the Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad will be effectively suspended.

...Correction: Akihiko has suffered a head injury. An additional half month will be added to the time until he is fully recovered. That's all.

4/11 (Sat) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Uh, this is Takeba.

Dark Hour activities will be suspended for a while, but today I went to visit our new member, so I thought I'd let you know.

He's still unconscious, but the doctor said he's in good health.

From what I saw, his complexion was good and he had regained consciousness.

I think he might have gained weight from all the infusions. I'm a little worried, so I'll go and check on him again tomorrow at noon.

Maybe he will be cured completely.

4/12 (Sun) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Well, it's Takeba for the second day in a row.

Kirijo-senpai is out today, having gone to the Kirijo Group headquarters to report on the recent large Shadow incident. Sanada-senpai was about to go out for some personal training when he was spotted by Kirijo-senpai, who gave him a cold shoulder... well, not metaphorically, but more like, physically.

Oh, and I believe Ikutsuki must be feeling lonely without a supervisor...to be honest, it's painful. I hope the new guy returns as soon as possible. That's all from Takeba. Phew.

4/13 (Mon) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

As for the cleanup of the large shadow from the other day, it seems that it has finally come to an end, according to Mitsuru's report yesterday.

The rest is up to the Chairman and the specialist team. We just need to focus on defeating the shadows. That being said, we are currently overwhelmingly underpowered... Anyways, patience makes perfect, so we'll just have to be patient for a while.

That's right. Today at school, the Student Council election was held. Mitsuru was running for president, and it seems likely that she will win. The results will be announced at tomorrow's morning assembly, but should I start thinking about what to say to congratulate her?

4/14 (Tue) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

It's Kirijo.

There is nothing to report from the Specialized Extracurricular Execution Squad today. The new recruit hasn't regained consciousness yet. I wonder if he'll be okay...

Also, I apologize for talking about my personal matters, but as a result of the Student Council elections held yesterday, I have been officially appointed as student council president, starting today.

Let me report on it.

I have a lot of things to do this week to take over the Student Council. However, I am confident that I can achieve good results by utilizing the experience I gained as a Student Council member from my first year.

I hope that with this, I can be more confident in defeating shadows as well...

No... that's not it. That's not it. Why would I have confidence in the Student Council, in school life? My life may not be in danger, but the future can't be perfect either...

I may have been... a bit complacent.

I'm grateful for this activity report. Just having to say it out loud and record it is a lot easier than thinking alone.

It teaches you things that you would not notice on your own.

Thinking about it, I've always been told that I'm taking on too much on my own. Akihiko often lectures me about this.

Well, I'll make sure to keep this in mind when I deliver my inaugural address next week.

4/15 (Wed) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Uh, this is Takeba.

Today is a day off for the Archery Club, so I went to Tatsumi Memorial Hospital again. …He is still unconscious, so I'm starting to get worried.

The other day, I was asked to read a report about his upbringing, and I did, but it was pretty sad that he doesn't have any family to help him if something happens.

It's pretty tough without someone...

I really hope he gets better soon.

That's all from Takeba.

Oh, that's right. I forgot to mention it, but congratulations to Kirijo-senpai on being appointed president.

4/16 (Thu) - Reporter: Shuji Ikutsuki

…This is Ikutsuki.

It seems like everyone in SEES has been pushing themselves too hard lately, so I've decided to let them go to bed early tonight. There's nothing of note to report regarding shadows.

It's really nerve-wracking to record in front of a microphone in this empty space.

I was so nervous that I had to go to the bathroom...

When recording, that is, when inputting sound, going to the toilet is inevitable, just kidding...

Ah, if no one listens to me, it's not worth it.

4/17 (Fri) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

It's Takeba! Well, he's finally woken up! According to the doctor in charge, he's in good health. He'll still be staying in the hospital tonight just to be safe, but starting tomorrow, he'll be fine to go to school.

Also, the Chairman said that he will finally tell him about SEES tomorrow.

I'm a little worried about whether he'll understand SEES' activities because he's a bit shy. Well, I can't force him, so it can't be helped, but if he joins, I think he'll be very reliable. I'll try not to get my hopes up too much and wait for tomorrow. This is Takeba.

4/18 (Sat) - Reporter: Mitsuru Kirijo

Good news! The new guy has been officially accepted into SEES.

…Honestly, even though it was an accident, I put him in a life-threatening situation, so I thought it was inevitable that he would refuse, but he seems to have a more flexible way of thinking than I had imagined. I can expect him to be an even more valuable asset in the future.

Oh, and by the way... I may have been a little too strict during the recruitment meeting. Sorry, Akihiko.

However, I need you to act a little like an injured person and exercise more restraint.

I don't want anyone to be forced to miss out...any more than this.

4/19 (Sun) - Reporter: Akihiko Sanada

The new recruit I picked up during the recent Dark Hour, whose situation had been left unresolved due to the large Shadow attack incident, is finally being allowed to move into the dorms.

The new recruit's name is Junpei Iori.

His detailed information should have been submitted separately, but he was in the same class as Takeba and the transfer student.

I had planned to keep it a secret until the last minute and surprise him, but Takeba's reaction when he moved into the dorm was better than I expected, and it was quite fun. If he continues like that, I think he'll fit in with the group quickly and do well.

He has a unique talent for creating a good mood, and in a sense, this is an advantage that surpasses his Persona abilities.

He has a unique talent for creating a good mood, and in my opinion, this is an advantage that surpasses his Persona abilities. Maybe I should follow his example.

And... finally, starting tomorrow, we plan to begin our search for Tartarus. Unfortunately, it seems Mitsuru won't allow me to join in, but even so... it's finally here...

4/20 (Mon) - Reporter: Yukari Takeba

Uh, this is Takeba.

Today was my first time in Tartarus...and I'm kind of tired from all sorts of things...

But I'll try my best.

No, I think I can do my best.

The field leader, the transfer student, is amazing. I have my own goals, but I don't really know much about them.

I know I shouldn't rely on him, but it still seems like he could be relied on.

Now... if only we could do something about Junpei's stupidity, it would be fantastic.

Well, it's short, but I'm going to sleep now. This is Takeba.

4/21 (Tue) - Reporter: Junpei Iori

…Ah, ah...Is the sound properly? Ahem.

Hey, I'm Junpei Iori, a promising new recruit. Well, this is my first report. ...What should I talk about? The activities that seem to be part of SEES are, ah, I was told by Sanada-senpai to go to the Tatsumi East Police Station with the transfer student to buy weapons.

But if you think about it, that's just black market sales, isn't it? Is that okay?

I heard something on TV, but the number of Lost people, shadow victims, is increasing.

Well, that's where we come in... but it's hard to get used to the Evoker.

I don't think it's right. Isn't it possible to make it a more gentle design?

And then... Oh, by the way, Kirijo-senpai's inaugural speech as president was really powerful. I didn't really understand it though.

Is that it? Yes, it's all over.

SEES Members Talk!

Mitsuru: In addition to directing the daily attack on Tartarus, he is also involved in student council activities... right, he is also in the sports club.

Fuuka: Although he doesn't go every day, he participates in the same cultural club as me. The club president seems to think highly of him.

Yukari: So what was it called, that club thing... you do that too, right? Come to think of it, it's a really hard schedule.

Mitsuru: Even when he comes to school, he sometimes looks pretty pale. I wonder if he is tired after all. I am worried because he never complains or anything...

Yukari: Sometimes he falls asleep during class so soundly that his eyes roll up, or he goes to Mr. Edogawa's after school.

Fuuka: That's right, and then he takes this very suspicious drug that seems to emit smoke, and looks so happy... It's actually kind of scary how he becomes so refreshed so quickly.

Mitsuru: Sometimes during the Dark Hour he mutters to himself something like "The end is coming..." ...Could it be that he's in quite the dangerous situation...?

Yukari: ...

Fuuka: H-how can I cheer her up? Oh, that's right, how about equipping her with high leg armor and sexy heels!

Mitsuru: Wh...! Yamagishi, don't be so casual about it as if it's someone else's problem.

NEXT->

[random-imagines-blog]

Tip My Helmet {Eomer x Elf!Reader Oneshot}

Wordcount: 4004 Requested by: Anonymous Summary: You're an elf, the sister of Legolas, while he is a human. Though war brings you close to one another, is there a chance for after?

This was not where you expected to be during a time of war. Inside of Rohan, drinking human ale with all of the survivors of the Battle of Helm’s Deep - and the newly re-found Merry and Pippin. You stood with your brother as Eomer handed out tankards, one to you, one to Gimli, one to your brother. Some kind of juvenile drinking game. You played such things back in Mirkwood from time to time, but with alcohol that was much stronger than this. Your hands wrapped around the tin, feeling the warmth of the drink within. “No pauses,” Eomer was explaining. “No spills.”

“And no regurgitation,” Gimli added on, his eyes large like a child’s as he brought his lips to the foamy liquid swimming atop the ale.

“So, it’s a drinking game?” Your brother asked in an innocent tone, making you smirk slightly to yourself. Legolas was a lightweight, by Elven standards, but with this ale, he’d still be standing strong by the time that everyone else is passed out. Eomer’s eye caught yours with a look of amusement, and you smiled softly.

“Last one standing wins!” Gimli announced, sounding very sure of himself. His laughter filled the air, along with the cheers of the Men of Rohan. Both his large hands went around the cup and brought it to his lips.

“What’ll we drink to? To victory! To victory!” The men around us called out. You lifted your drink towards your mouth, taking a sip of it. It tasted much more earthy than you had been expecting. Not a bad taste at all. Your eyes went from the handsome ones of Eomer to your brother, who ventured a taste as Gimli was chugging his down. He was getting froth all over his beard, something which amused you to no end.

Every time a tankard was emptied, Eomer would hand over another. You stopped yourself at four, shaking your head towards the Rider of Rohan. But your brother and Gimli kept going, to the surprise of the men around. More and more of the metal cups riddled the tabletop. Another two gone, before Eomer could even finish filling two more. Gimli stood on his chair to look at all the empty cups, your own three included, and let out a very drunken laugh.

“I’m not sure we should be doing this,” you said to Eomer, as your brother sipped at his own drink more delicately compared to everyone else around. “I’m starting to suspect that this will damage him beyond tonight.”

“It’s the dwarves that go swimming with little, hairy women!” Gimli said out of nowhere, saying this as if it were a matter of pride. And then let out a burp that made even you grimace, his eyes crossing as he stuck his face back into his cup.

“I feel something,” Legolas said, looking at his fingers. Eomer looked bewildered, and you sighed, shaking your head again at how damn adorable he looked like that. “A tingling in my fingers. I think it’s affecting me.”

“What did I say?” Gimli said, his words coming out in a strong slur. “He can’t hold his liquor.” His eyes crossed again, then rolled back into his head and Gimli fell down onto the ground. Head over heels.

“Game over?” Legolas said. You chastised him with just a look, for being dramatic like this. It hadn’t been a fair contest - but at least no humans had decided to join in. That much would probably have killed them.

Your group parted, Legolas helping to carry the slumbering Gimli to his room, and you moved further into the party. You found yourself being caught up in the festivities, Eowyn asking you for a dance, though you knew this was just a guise. She really wanted to learn more about Aragorn - but you stayed tight-lipped about the subject, merely smiling and dancing with her in the center of the room. The mood in the air was good. You had all won a grand victory for Rohan, for the light. A large army had been vanquished. The dark was losing the battles. You then danced with Merry and Pippin, both of them holding one of your hands. You were laughing along with them, at their enthusiasm, at their positivity. You even caught sight of Gandalf and Aragorn sharing a smile while watching you. But as you were getting ready to go over to them, a familiar set of hands touched yours gently. “Time for one last dance, my lady?”

You met Eomer’s eyes, and you smiled at him, letting his hands take hold of yours. “I’ve told you not to call me that,” You reminded, chiding him gently.

“My apologies,” he said, bowing his head. “It’s a hard habit for me to break.”

“Perhaps you should try harder,” you said, as the jaunty music continued to play, and you started the dance with Eomer. Hand in hand, you went through the steps of a folk dance, picking it up quickly. It was simple, with a few foot movements. With your bodies being close to one another. Your tunic brushed up against this, your body proximity close. He merely chuckled again, and his breath was warm against your neck while you danced. It finished with a twirl, your long hair, blonde like your brother and your father’s, flying through the air, then resting against your shoulders as you found yourself in Eomer’s arms.

There were cheers from the men around. Whistles. They seemed to be more cheering for Eomer than for yourself, you noticed, as if he had done something bold, something - he should be rewarded for. “Thank you for the dance,” he said, bowing his head to you.

“A pleasure as always, Eomer,” you said, returning the gesture. But you didn’t let go of his hand as everyone went back to their own business. No longer looking at the two of you. “Would you like to go for a walk with me?”

He raised an eyebrow at you but then nodded his head, not a bow. He let go of your hand, but followed you through the throngs of people, his large presence making you very aware that he was there.

The sweet-smelling breeze of the night air cooled your face once you stepped outside of the castle. You didn’t move too far, not going down the stairs quite yet to the city. It felt like a welcome difference from the heat inside, with the fires and the humans all crowded together, sweaty and warm. Your eyes turned upwards, looking towards the skies. The stars were bright tonight. They, too, seemed pleased by the victory.

“The stars - I believe they’re shining for us tonight,” You mumbled towards Eomer. “Even the sky is pleased about our victory. We’re on the right path.”

“You think so?” Eomer said, leaning against one of the columns of the front of the castle, his arms crossed as he looked up and out as well. “How can you tell? They look like plain stars to me.”

You chuckled, finding his humanity endearing. “The stars are beloved to my people. We have a relationship with them. They help us during times of trouble - and have always been dependable.”

“Trees, stars,” Eomer said, his eyes coming down from the skies to linger on your face. “Is there anything that you don’t have a relationship with?”

His tone showed that he meant no offense. He was a curious man. He had told you, when you had been riding back from the Battle of Helm’s deep, that he hasn’t had much contact with elves before. He had asked you about your homeland, about your brother, about how you had learned the skills in battle that you had shown. He had some outdated ideas about how women should not fight. But he couldn’t deny that you had been an asset.

“Everything,” You grinned. “The air around us is beloved to us too. When the wind is strong, it lifts us. That is why it is so easy for us to live among the trees. We can be brought right up to the top where our homes are, thanks to a stiff breeze.”

“You mean-” he said, moving away from the column, and walking up to you, his expression baffled. “You can fly? The air can make you fly, like a bird, or a Nazgul-birds?”

“Yes,” You nodded, keeping a straight face. “You did not know this?”

“No!” He said, amazed. “Can you call on the wind? Can it take you wherever you want to go? Could you-”

Your straight face failed you. Your shoulders started to shake as you began to laugh. Unlike a lot of other elves, you had managed to have a sense of humor. Playing with the other races, this bit of mischief, was one of your favorite things about this whole adventure. “I’m sorry, Eomer. I was only telling tales. Although all of the elements are important to us, all have their uses, air does not help us to fly.”

“You almost had me there,” Eomer said with a chuckle. “We could have won the whole war if that was true. It would be done in seconds. Just fly over Mount Doom and drop the ring in.”

“Unfortunately, it cannot be so,” You sighed, and looked up at the stars once more. Even though you were in a different area, the stars were much the same as the ones you saw at home, and you could follow them like a straight path right on back if you so desired. “But there is still hope, written in the night skies. These stars, they’ll show Frodo and Sam the way, just as surely as they’ll show them the way back home.”

Galadriel had given Frollo the light of the star of Eärendil. They were already involved now.

“You see that, in the stars?" Eomer asked, his voice sounding incredulous. You didn’t blame him for not believing you. Men were … a lot more folly. They’d believe in Gods that they could not see, but they didn’t believe in the very lights in the sky that they could.

“As long as there are stars, Eomer, there is hope.”

You had spoken with your brother. He and Gimli were going to follow Aragorn through the passage in the mountains. The passage that would bring them either to a great success - a secret weapon of sorts - or deadly peril. But that was their choice to make, so you only wished them safety, and that you would see them again during the war. You weren’t going to join them. You felt like your place was here, more so with the people of Rohan. With Eomer, who you had grown close with over the journey. And Eowyn, whom you already thought of as a sister.

You had been walking back towards the speaking brother and sister, when you heard words that you didn’t quite agree with. And being the person that you were, you were going to say something about it.

“War is the province of men.”

“Men?” You questioned, making Eomer turn around. “No matter which way you mean it, whether gender, or race, you do not think that I am for battle? No - you must mean the gender, for you have had no problem fighting alongside elves, and dwarves.”

You had missed that he had been talking about Merry at first, though you were on Eowyn’s side in that argument as well. Just as you had every right to fight, as did Aragorn, Theoden, Eomer himself - Merry and Eowyn both had the ability to decide to fight. But right now, you were just defending Eowyn. And yourself.

“Though I don’t remember you having a problem fighting alongside me, either,” You spoke aloud, remembering the moment that you had caught eyes with him for the first time, while searching for Merry and Pippin. And then again during the battle for Helm’s Deep, when he realized that you were there, in the full swing of things, your armor stained with blood, cuts and bruises on your arms, just like everyone else. “So, it’s just your sister you’re coddling for the moment?”

“I am not coddling,” Eomer insisted, his eyes lit up by the reflection of the fire that he had been sitting near only a moment ago. “I’m explaining the way that things are. You - you are a valuable warrior; I will give you that but-”

“That should be in the end of your sentence,” you said, sharply. “You cannot respect me as a fighter, but disrespect your sister’s wish to be the same. She might not have the experience of war that you do, no, she does not have that. But she has the same amount of heart, the same determination, the same reasons to go into battle as you have. The only differences between you are what is in between your legs, and what expectations were put upon you by someone else.”

Eowyn looked surprised, and Eomer - he just looked stunned by your words. No one had dared to talk to him like that before. Especially not a woman. “I just don’t want her to get hurt,” Eomer finally said his real reason for thinking like this. There was something about you that made his heart go in front of his brain, in front of his reasoning. “I don’t want either of you to get hurt. But she,” He said, looking towards his sister, “-she is the future of Rohan. Eowyn, you are who everyone is going to follow if something happens to-”

The word went unspoken. The King. If something happened to Theoden, it would be Eowyn that would be in charge. She would be the Queen of Rohan, taking care of the survivors. Starting over again in the city after it had been ravaged by orcs.

“But - that is not a good enough reason,” Eowyn insisted. “I worry about you, about everyone that is going out there. My friends - my family - don’t I deserve to fight for them too?”

“But-” Eomer started, but then looked between the two of us, and he saw that he was going to lose this argument. It was two against one, and both of us were speaking logically - even though he had his own good reason nonetheless. Eowyn turned on her heel and walked back to her tent, most likely to practice her sword skills once more. You had caught her doing it before. Had even given her some advice on how to use her reach to her advantage.

You approached Eomer, and daringly, you put your hand on his shoulder. You were in close proximity to him. You could smell the stew on his breath, though this was not unpleasant. It was a hearty, human-type smell. His shoulder was large underneath the fabric that he wore, which had been made warm with his own body’s heat. His hair tickled at the back of your hand.

“You do have a good heart, Eomer, and she knows that you love her, and that you care. But restricting her, keeping her in a cage like a pretty bird, is not the way to do it. Nor, exactly, is trying to claim that only men should be in war. I took offense to that.”

“I apologize for offending you,” he said, his eyes intense. Beautifully bright while being lit like this. “But I have seen you in war. And you have had years of training for it, that much was clear. You’re very skilled,” he said, his hand reaching towards your waist now in a show that was as ostentatious, as audacious as your hand upon his shoulder. It brought you both closer together than before. “You’re like a dancer out there, when you fight, you make it look easy, while we both know that it is not.”

“It isn’t,” You agreed. You had trained for centuries to be as good as you were, against all manner of foe. “But is that not all the more reason to help her rather than dissuade her? You’re an excellent swordsman, Eomer. Only rivalled by your skills as a rider. She’s going to find a way to fight whether you accept this or not. Would you not do the same?”

Eomer groaned, his thick eyebrows furrowing as he was really listening to what you were saying. “I know my place -”

“So let her decide hers,” you said, firmly, your breath upon his chin now, close. “I will help her, if you do not. The last thing either of us want is for her to get hurt. So, relieve yourself of your stubborn nature for only a couple of days and allow me to do this. It will only benefit her.”

“Fine,” he said, gritting his teeth, his eyes drilling holes into yours. “You can teach her. But I cannot. I’ve got too much to do with the rest of the army, we’ve barely recovered from Helm’s Deep.”

“I understand. Leave it to me, Eomer,” you said, your voice hitting him like soft silk against his cheeks, cool but comforting. “I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t lose anyone you love in this battle.”

“Including you?” He asked, without missing a beat. Your breath got caught inside your mouth, whatever words that you were thinking of saying next just rolling around on your tongue, but not escaping. You closed your lips for a second, as he looked on at you, nervous, anxious, earnest.

“Including me,” you said finally with a curt nod. He breathed out in relief, the smell of ale tickling your nose. He pressed a soft kiss onto your forehead, the first sort of affection like this that you had, and then left you to talk to his sister about what was going to happen going forward.

The battle was won, though there were great losses all around. You had not been able to keep your promise to him, for he had ended up losing someone that he loved. His own uncle. Your heart broke for him when he had found his uncle’s corpse, Eowyn bent over it, crying, Merry standing there with tears down his own face. The sound that Eomer had let out sounded more pained than anything you had ever heard before. Like he was the one who was dying.

You knelt down on Eomer’s other side and you rested your hand on his back, over his armor. He could not feel your touch, but he could feel your presence, and that had to be enough for now. “I’m sure he fought valiantly until the last,” You spoke, looking at the still noble face of Theoden, King of Rohan.

“He did,” Merry said with a nod, the sob very evident in his voice. “He surely did, my Lady.”

You did little to try to stop the crying of those around you. You only offered a hand to Eowyn, your closeness to Eomer, and your great respect to the little hobbit who was also trying to keep things together through his own grief. The latter had gone to try to find his friends, to find Pippin, no doubt, and you wished him the best of luck as he went. You did not go searching - you stayed put, feeling a familiar sense that your own brother was still alive, wherever on the battlefield he was.

Time went on. Fallen warriors were identified by the living, and were loaded onto carts, respectfully, to be carried back home to be buried. The King was given special treatment of course, being overseen by Eomer and Eowyn, as well as Aragorn himself. You and Eowyn had picked flowers to lay across his body for transport, signs of love, signs of respect. And you rode with Eomer, the first woman to ever ride upon his horse with him, holding onto his waist from behind.

Your own feelings were divided between grief and love. It was easy for the two to mix together, to combine into something bittersweet. As you rested your head upon the back of his shoulder as his steed, Firefoot, trotted beneath you, transporting Theoden back, you had a lot of thinking to do. The idea of leaving Eomer made your heart ache painfully, something you had never felt before. You knew what this unfamiliar feeling was - it was love. But there was a divide between you two - your races, your lives. He was human, his life was fleeting, he was aging before your very eyes and would soon be the age his uncle was when he died, and then older, and older, until death would greet him, hopefully peacefully.

The war wasn’t over. Once you reached Rohan, word was coming that Aragorn was planning on bringing as many troops as would come to Mordor. For Frodo, to give him time, to destroy the ring and the evil that came with it. There has not been much news of the hobbit, but there was still hope that he was out there. That he was close to achieving the end-goal.

“Will you ride?” You asked Eomer. His eyes set upon you as they did many times before, darkened by the sorrow but with a bright, determined light still within.

“I will,” he said. “I need to see this war out to the end. Do what my uncle could not.”

You nodded, understanding him. He was preparing for a night of rest in his own room once more before the ride back to Minas Tirith to meet up with Aragorn and his army. He removed his helmet, his hair falling down around his shoulders, braided still from before the battle. You moved towards him, your fingers running through the strands, shiny with sweat and oils. “I will be coming too.”

“And there is no way I can talk you out of it?” Eomer asked, looking into your eyes, licking his chapped lips. “No way to convince you to stay here, and wait for me?”

“It would be like asking the sun to wait to rise,” You admitted, moving to cup his cheek instead, his bristly facial hair rough against the smoothness of your hand. “It is in my nature to go where I am needed, and that is where I feel I must be. Fighting with my friends. With my brother.” You paused for a moment. “With my love.”

The corner of his lips went up into a smile at his admission, before quickly going back down again. “And - if I lose you?”

“Then that’s the path that fate had set us down upon,” You spoke. “It would be only too easy to stray, to find a way to another path without the potential of that hurt - but I want to remain on this one and take that chance. I want to be with you, as human as you are.”

His lips met yours quicker than you could have imagined, as if he was as swift as an elf. You closed your eyes and melted against him, feeling yourself growing rather than shrinking into this feeling. It was distressing, how fast your heart was beating inside of your chest for a man that you would only be able to hold onto for a short time. That divide - it was like the distance between two stars up there in the night sky. Further apart than one could feasibly imagine. And yet - you were both part of the same constellation regardless. Connected by a single link, and that was your feelings for one another. Whatever this final battle brought on, you’d hold onto that link, and use it to make yourself stronger, like how adding strands to a braided rope made it stronger. And you’d use it to your advantage.

For Frodo.

And for your future, as long as it may be, as much strife and loneliness might come upon it later, you would enjoy these moments of passion, of romance and of Eomer, and make each moment stretch to feel as if it lasts forever.

[koolkitty9]

LET ME FINALLY GIVE MY THOUGHTS ON THIS SCENE RIGHT HERE. Hi I am obsessed with this scene for absolutely no reason. I have MANY THOUGHTS on it and I want to share my analysis on this entire minute scene. It has been almost EIGHT YEARS NOW since it aired (Sorry some of this got formatted weird by Tumblr hhhhh)

Right here, you can see the moment where Yumoto's heart just drops into his stomach and he realizes he MAY actually lose for the first time ever as a Battle Lover (Which would be A VERY INTERESTING THING to see!)

Now why do they show him in the past? It shows that this is a REAL fear of his, losing Gora is such a big deal to him. This MAY have happened before at home but as a child, this scene takes place during the events we saw with the tiny Beppu bros in ep 10. Where he was left alone

Starting off with this, WHERE is this coming from? Well, Sailor Moon S1Ep1, we see Usagi having an attack JUST like this, and it is a defensive attack, which I believe Yumoto's own attack was based on. Wombat MUST have known about this, I believe he NEVER thought it would occur

The others are confused at this new power (Power #5 for Yumoto in s2) meanwhile, the twins are horrified/even MORE angry at him. Aki tells Haru to not falter and Haru tries to shoot Yumoto in the chest to stop/fatally injure him at this point

Atsushi mentions Yumoto has stronger emotions compared to the VEPPer (He shames them btw), we learn in the OVA, Yumoto's powers are loved based, we DO get hints of in ep9 when Yumoto performs his Love Sprinkle attack. En notes that the twins underestimated how strong Yumoto is

To me, this is just a VERY extreme panic attack but since his powers are with love, it is amplified due to his love for Gora. Kinshiro notes that both past and current Yumoto are merging. I HC that Yumoto was always destined to become Scarlet, so this moment has taken him back to the time when he was a child and this has somehow made itself known in the universe. This could be a result from the alien technology (or could just be nothing and Im looking too deep into a single line)

Everyone isn't sure WHAT is going on, Ryuu tells him to get a grip after he learns Yumoto is "Losing himself to fear" and tries to touch him. As we see when Haru tried to hit Yumoto, this power is actively protecting Yumoto while doing damage to anyone who tries to hurt him. I actually find this to be SUPER interesting

It's more interesting when he calms down after the twins realize how strong he is, I believe this is his true anger over the entire situation. By this point Yumoto is sick of it, he has been fighting these two for so long over his own brother. He has almost been killed and now He's ready to do the same to them. When the boys all come running to stop Yumoto, they all have different expressions (Can't see Io's :(( ) The twins though, are horrified as they know if they get hit, THEY ARE DONE FOR! (It's finEEEE)

En's first thought is to grab Yumoto to try to calm him down somewhat by grounding him back to reality

Atsushi (just like a mom as Yumoto says about him) gently grabs Yumoto's face and tries to get him to look at him, while also shielding him from either himself or another attack from the twins. You can actually see him and Io pulling Yumoto closer to them

Ryuu and Wombat don't add much, BUT Ryuu does actually support Yumoto's head when they all fall onto the ground. Which Yumoto's head SHOULD be in Ryuu's lap (In theory).

As for the dark place? Yumoto probably experienced a severe form of tunnel vision along with the influence of his powers. IMO, He was so overwhelmed with the thought of losing his only family forever that he forgot about his found family as well.

adding to how Yumoto is being held, Ryuu seems to have Yumoto's forearms pinned, Io has his arms around Yumoto's chest, and En and Atsushi I CAN'T really see where they're grabbing at but it but it does show you even with their strength it takes all four of them to subdue Yumoto

And uhhh I think that's it really for this scene...for now... Once Yumoto remembers how he's loved by his friends and he's not alone, he transforms into his highest form to date :)))) also these frames of him are pretty lol this scene had a lot of gorgeous frames OKAY BYE!

I WANTED TO ADD MORE PICS BUT RAN OUTTA SPACE

I didnt fit ALL I wanted to talk about but ANOTHER TIME! OKAY BYE FOR REALSIES

[ang3l-fac33]

Not really an “x reader” request but more of a Hazbin Hotel hurt/comfort fic when after the final battle, when everyone is recuperating and tending to wounds, that Lucifer noticed the nasty cut on Charlie’s head and just goes full overprotective dad mode and feels terrible that he wasn’t able to be of help at the battle sooner. (There’s the whole theory that he couldn’t because of the deal with the angels that he couldn’t interviene unless they broke the rules of the agreement)

So yeah, that be a request? Is that okay?

protective dad mode.

of course! :D

warnings:angst(??), comfort, not proofread.

—

lucifer stared up at the sky as he watched all the angel’s retreat up into the portal that led to heaven, a proud and triumphant smile on his face. it was over. they had won the battle! they even managed to take down adam!

when the last angel flew through the portal before closing, that’s when he finally turned to look at the damage that had been done from the battle. a frown replaced that cocky smirk rather quickly.

the hotel was destroyed, completely in ruins. rubble, ash, blood, and more had scattered the land, leaving nothing to be repaired.

a stab of guilt hit lucifer right in the chest, his frown deepening. all charlies hard work was now just a pile of rubble and remains of a battle. he started to feel guilty for not being here sooner. maybe the hotel would’ve at least been fixable.

he sighed and ran his fingers through his now messy blond hair. he should find the others. he turned to the side and scanned the area. angel dust was busy pampering and hugging fat nuggets, husk was, of course, trying to search for any remaining bottles of alcohol in all of the rubble, nifty was busy stabbing all the corpses of the angels to make sure they were dead, and that freak of a deer demon was nowhere to be found.

so then where was charlie and her girlfriend? he soon found his answer when he noticed them not too far away. charlie seemed to be leaning on vaggie for support while vaggie gently rubbed her shoulders.

he sighed in relief and approached them with a small smile. but before he could say anything he noticed a trickle of blood run down her forehead, and that made him freeze. his precious daughter was hurt!

panic instantly overcame him, and he started approaching even faster now. “charlie! dear, are you hurt? let me see!” he cupped charlie’s face before she could even get a word out, and vaggie stepped back to give the two some space.

upon further inspection lucifer found a nasty cut on her forehead, and he made a shocked noise. charlie put her hands on her fathers arms and tried to pry him off. “dad.. i’m okay, really. it’s just a small scratch.”

lucifer’s brows furrowed. “it’s more like a gash then anything else! goodness where is the first aid?— oh it’s probably destroyed!” not knowing what else to do, lucifer pulls charlie into a protective hug. “we’re going to get you patched up alright?—“

“dad stop!” charlie broke away from her fathers grip, her eyes wet with tears. lucifer frowned, feeling another stab of guilt. there was a moment where the two of them just stood there in silence, but then charlie spoke up again, her voice softer this time.

“..sorry, dad.. i just.. the hotel is.. and sir pentious-“ she was struggling to find the right words, too filled with grief to speak properly. oh how he hated seing his little girl upset like this..

lucifer sighed and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. he was still extremely worried about the wound on her head, but he knew he shouldn’t be smothering her like this. he wasn’t great with cheering people up, but he’d do anything for his daughter.

“it’s not your fault.” he said, biting his lip with guilt. “maybe everything would’ve been fine if i had come sooner. all of this is my fault.”

charlie sniffled and wiped her eyes, shaking her head. “it’s not you’re fault dad. i mean if it weren’t for you i would have been.. you know..” she didn’t have the strength to finish what she was going to say but lucifer knew. if he hadn’t come in sooner adam would’ve killed charlie.

“charlie.. you did good today. i’m really proud of you. you stood up to the exorcists and saved your friends. to me that sounds like a well deserved victory. and about sir pentious.. he gave his life up for all of you. that sounds like redemption even though he never got to make it that far.”

charlie sighed, a small smile gracing her lips. it made lucifer happy to see, knowing that he could still make her happy. “thank you, dad.. i’m going to miss him.”

lucifer rubbed her shoulder gently. “i know.. but know that he won’t be forgotten.” he pulls charlie into a much gentler hug this time, to which the princess returns.

after a few seconds he pulled away, gently touching her forehead. she winced but didn’t pull away. “this still needs to be taken care of, sweetie. come here.” he was still clearly in his protective dad mode, but made sure to tone it down for charlies sake.

he gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face before a light golden glow emitted from his hand. it wasn’t long until the wound had ben semi-healed. he couldn’t heal it fully like he wished since he was a bit drained at the moment, but he did the best he could.

a soft sigh left charlie’s lips, her eyes holding a lot less pain to them now. she shot lucifer a grateful smile before turning to where the hotel once stood. “what are we going to do now?” she whispered dreadfully.

the others began to gather around the two, looking as if they were wondering the same thing. lucifer just smiled, knowing what to do. “we’ll just have to build a new one! did you forget who holds all the power here?”

though his magic wasn’t as strong now, it wasn’t fully used up. he would gladly spend the rest on helping charlie build her precious hotel back, and hopefully make it even better than before.

her friends looked determined, giving each other nods of approval. that made charlie smile, and she moved to stand by vaggie to give her a small kiss on the cheek. she looked as determined as the rest now, giving a nod.

“yes! we need to rebuild this hotel. for sir pentious and dazzle! in their honor, and in hopes for a new, better start!”

charlie’s friends cheered, and lucifer suddenly felt much better about all of this.

it was time to get to work

(ahh i’m sorry this took long! and i feel like it’s not my best work either but i still hope you enjoyed it either way! <3 thank you for requesting!)

[password-door-lock]

Mystictober Day 10-- Robot

Unknown attempts to make a robot (932 words).

“Whatcha doin’, boss?” 

Unknown, as you should probably have guessed, does not respond. Instead, he continues with what looks like highly technical work, involving a horrifying mess of scrap metal, circuit boards, and wires. “I think you should have some kind of safety helmet if you’re using a blowtorch,” you try again, “Also, why are you using a blowtorch?”

“Hm,” Unknown hums at you, a clear indication of his disapproval. “Mind your own business, prince(ss).” 

“This is absolutely my business,” you argue. It’s strange towering over Unknown like this— you’d lower yourself to his level, but you wouldn’t like to fall victim to the blowtorch. Is he… attempting to solder? You don’t like that he’s doing all this with his bare hands, either, but you know that gloves are a battle you’ll never win. “You’re my boss, and this is my workplace, and you’re absolutely ignoring every established blowtorch safety procedure, thereby putting yourself— my boss— in danger in my workplace. That’s the textbook definition of my business.” 

“Fine,” Unknown huffs, most likely because he thinks a concession without action will be an effective means of shutting you up. He’s wrong, of course, but it’s the thought that counts, even if that thought is utter bullshit. “But it’s not dangerous. It’s just fire.”

“Then why don’t I take over for you?” Check mate.

Unknown turns off the blowtorch and looks up, meeting your eyes with a stone-cold stare. That kind of look used to set the hair at the back of your neck on end, but now, of course, you know that Unknown isn’t actually going to hurt you. He’s as attached to you as you are to him, though of course, he’d never admit it. “It’s probably more dangerous if you’re distracting me, assistant. Would you like to be collateral damage?”

You shrug off the threat. You’ve been with Unknown long enough by now that you can tell when he’s being genuine and when he’s just bluffing. “What is that thing, anyway?” A horrifying thought occurs to you. “Is it a bomb?”

Unknown snorts with what could be amusement or annoyance. Maybe you can’t read him as well as you thought— or maybe he’s both amused and annoyed. “It’s a cat.”

“No the fuck it is not.” The hunk of scrap metal on which your boss is currently working looks nothing like a cat.

“That’s the ears,” Unknown points out two lopsided triangles atop a vaguely spherical mass, which you assume is meant to be the animal’s head. “Eyes. Mouth. Nose. Body. Feet.” These features are formless and vague, although now that he’s pointed them out, you can sort of see what he’s getting at.

“You forgot the whiskers,” you point out. “And the tail. And the safety precautions.”

“Cats don’t have safety precautions,” Unknown informs you matter-of-factly. 

“But you should when you’re playing god and frankensteining one together out of pieces of computers.” You can’t help but lecture him a little. After all, this is absolutely preposterous. What if he gets hurt?

Unknown just shrugs. “That guy made a cat robot. I wanted to make a better one.” It’s clear that he’s trying to keep his tone light, though he isn’t doing the best job of it. 

Anyway, that explains a lot. Of course he’d want to one-up his rival, even at great danger to himself. “Does it talk?” Why are you even engaging with him about this? “Mhm,” Unknown sounds proud of himself, which is endearing. You really don’t want him to melt that cute face off in the tragic blowtorch accident toward which his crafting methods are dragging him. 

“What does it say?” Maybe a conversation will distract him from this profoundly unsafe activity.

Unknown sets his blowtorch down (thank god, finally) and presses a button under the cat’s chin. “Speak,” he orders. 

“Fuck you,” says the cat, in a garbled, demonic-sounding voice. This certainly is not what you expected, though you don’t know why. Unknown wouldn’t waste an afternoon working on some cutesy robot, after all. 

“What the fuck?” You manage between peals of laughter. “Is that… the only thing it says?”

Unknown nods. It seems the humor inherent to this situation has gone entirely over his head. “That’s all it needs to say when it meets Luciel.”

“You’re gonna sick it on Luciel?” You don’t know whether to be scared beyond belief or pleasantly entertained by the concept. The appropriate response is probably a little bit of both— just like it would be on any other day with Unknown. 

“Yeah,” he confirms, “It’s called RevengeCat.”

“That’s so funny,” you admit, if a bit begrudgingly. Your amusement does not make up for the fact that your boss is soldering without safety goggles. “Does it explode or something?”

“No.” That’s a relief, at least.

Granted, Unknown could be bending the truth, so you feel the need to clarify further. “It just says ‘fuck you?’”

“Yes.” He’s not smirking at you or anything, which means he’s probably being honest.

“Okay.” You know you won’t be able to stop your boss from sending this to Luciel, but maybe that’s a good thing. At the very least, this project has distracted him from his usual task of plotting murder. Also, against all odds, RevengeCat is beginning to grow on you. “You should add a tail next, boss. But before that, I’m gonna go find you some safety goggles. Wait right here.”

You already know he won’t listen to you, but that isn’t going to stop you from doing what you can to minimize the hazards in your boss’s work environment. 

[cybernetic-side-eye]

Hi Commander Wolffe (I remind myself you said that was okay.)

I'm sorry to bother you, and I know you probably won't even see this before my self-made mini-crisis is over, so don't worry about that. But I just wanted to try to distract myself a little bit. And I'm sorry, but you're the one I go to when I'm worried about my vision. (That'll teach you to be nice to me!)

And I'll say right off the bat I know you're not a doctor, and you don't know anything about eye/vision problems, especially in my universe, I'm just using you as a distraction (again, sorry.)

A few years ago I had surgeries to remove the floaters (the gray squiggly worm type) from both eyes. But after that I still had a black dot or two that would float through my vision sometimes. The kind that would make me think a gnat was flying around me or something like that. Not enough to bother my vision, just a little annoying.

I mentioned it to my doctors, and they all say there is nothing in my eye. They see no black dots anywhere. So they don't know what it is. I've asked 2 retinal specialists, a glaucoma specialist, an optometrist who monitors my pressures, and my optometrist who prescribes my glasses. They all say there is nothing there. The optometrist did say, "I've had other people tell me they have that, but we don't know what it is."

So I've just learned to live with it. I'd say it's half the time I see them, and they're easily ignored.

But today when I woke up there was a different one. Different shaped (more of a splotch than an actual dot) and a little bigger. And it seems to stay in the far right of my vision. It's big enough I thought it was a bug crawling on me at one point. But it's not BIG, just bigger than the others. And I see them today too.

I've been debating if I should go to the ER (since it's the weekend, no one is in any of my doctors' offices.) But I don't know if ERs even have ophthalmologists around or on call. And I don't know if a regular MD would know what to look for.

I'm probably not going to go. I haven't seen it for the last 5 minutes. Maybe it's fine. I'm sure it's fine. I just worry a lot.

So as a distraction, I wanted to ask if you had a story of a time with your brothers that brought you joy. You have the whole "grumpy" persona on display a lot, but I'm sure you have fun and enjoy stuff too. Especially with your brothers. And it could be when you were younger or now or anything.

Or if you don't have any stories you want to share, maybe just what some of your favorites are? Like color, weather, pastime, beverage?

Or maybe just what you're up to right now (at the time you see this, that is.)

As I said, I'm writing this to distract myself more than anything. Sorry to bother you, but thank you for making me feel comfortable enough that I was able to distract myself with writing this.

Take care,

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

You don't have to apologize for anything. I don't interact out of obligation and wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be. I know firsthand how scary it is when your eyes don't work correctly. To me, it sounds like you're taking some time to think through your options.

I know I can be a grump or come across as overly serious, but that's only because it takes me time to get comfortable in certain situations. I think it's a good time for a story, though. I think @capt-traitor would be fine with me sharing this.

Gregor and I were headed back to triple zero. A bunch of commandos ended up working with the 104th and it was a difficult campaign. While the battle was won, the damage to this one village was particularly awful and even though we got everyone to safety, we were all tired on the flight back. We were what you might call "tired drunk" and for whatever reason, Gregor decided to start talking about how we should get out more. The conversation essentially went like this:

Gregor: When was the last time you went dancing? Me: Never. Gregor: There's your problem! You need to get out more. Swing that kama around. Show the people what you're working with. Let off some steam! Me: I don't swing for just anyone. Gregor: I think you mean something else besides what that sounds like, but that's not important right now. Get up. Me: What? Gregor: Stand up.

Cue Gregor grabbing my hands, pulling me up, and holding me like we're about to waltz. I was too tired to argue, but that man can dance. First he led and hummed while teaching me some steps. Then he had me lead. I don't know where he learned it, but there was just something ridiculous and fun about learning to dance after a series of such long days. We turned on some music and - as Comet would say - we were vibing. Let lose, danced like we were at a club instead of attempting to be fancy, and certain that no one could hear us. At some point we waddled down to the mess in a sleepy daze, broke in without waking anyone up, and grabbed some barely edible ration bars.

Only, @commander-stabby had overheard everything because he was trying to sleep next door. He found us sitting on the floor of the mess kitchen, half-asleep, trying to find the energy to make caf. Gregor looked up at him and asked "You dance, commander?"

[world-of-warhammer]

So the next part of the lore as I understand it for Warhammer is an interesting bit. The Greenskins faction. Comprised of both Orcs and Goblins in both fantasy settings and 40k, Age of Sigmar adds Ogres to the mix as well (but we will touch on them another time when I can stomach it (hehe)) so we'll kick this off with 40k and work our way backwards to Fantasy before a brief touchstone in Age of Sigmar.

Orks are a sapient fungus that upon reaching maturity forms one of several geno/phenotypes of creature. Bipedal, green, of the mindset that the biggest should be in charge and that fighting is the best thing ever. Primarily heard speaking with what has been (colloquially) called a cockney accent the average Ork sentence is mostly apostrophes and charmingly "misspelled" words.

For a quick example in the written word, "'Ey, da' boss said it needz more dakka, add shootaz." Or somesuch similar phrasing.

Orks in 40k are latently psychic. Their mass belief in something manipulates the warp and reality to make it true. The red ones go faster, literally makes a vehicle move quicker. They saw Imperial Guardsmen wearing splotchy colored clothing that made them harder to see (camoflage) and started painting things with mismatched splotchy coloration and thus became harder to see (regardless of color, pattern, or surrounding environment).

Orks being fungible, means they leave spores everywhere and later on more Orks and Goblins will spawn from the spores that take hold.

They have an obsession with Waaagh (War) and desire to fight so much so that infighting is as common as fighting outside armies or forces.

It takes one particularly tough Ork to grow in size and bash heads together to rally the army to use any real form of tactics. Someone who wins personal fights is worthy to lead armies.

Ork gods are Gork and Mork. One cunningly brutal, the other brutally cunning. Kunning in the Ork spelling. It's part of their Kultur (Culture) to only worship those two gods, whose very fists and feet manifest to smite and smash their foes in battle (probably some Orks too, collateral damage isn't something they avoid much.)

Orks can basically eat anything but love meats.

Orks are large, muscular, and their technology works because they believe it will. Strapping more guns to a thing can make an otherwise broken vehicle repaired enough for an Ork to drive it. Their guns and swords look like they're made to be vicious and cut from every angle.

Goblins are smaller and known mostly from being cunning backstabbers, ranged weaponry, or users of magics. Things that lend themselves well to one not able to swing a huge axe or wield a large gun.

If it seems like I'm mostly focusing on 40k, it's because Games Workshop basically took what they had written for 40k and retconned a lot for Warhammer Fantasy. So it's equally applicable regardless of the setting. They just have fewer machines in fantasy.

Tl:Dr Sapient bipedal fungus folk enjoy war, believe things will work so they do, get bigger when winning fights, and just wanna fight and eat.

Age of Sigmar does do a few things differently. As I understand it, GorkaMorka (Gork and Mork as one entity) Was an ally of Sigmar and helped with repelling Chaos to help dawn the new age of mortals; before switching back to the side of destruction.

This covers the bare-bones basics as I understand them. As in every case, please feel free to reblog, reply, or send an ask if you have questions or if I was inaccurate. Next time I talk about what I like, dislike, and would do differently.