#invisible destroyer

[doctorslippery]

[rarhhh]

he just like me fr...

[dcbinges]

Showcase #23 (1959) by John Broome & Gil Kane

[fantastictalesofadventure]

"𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩…𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙤 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬…𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚." - 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐱 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

[ooooo-mcyt]

Grian is the sun in his warmth. He's a natural leader, the creator of the game, the first to win it, someone who's good at taking charge, someone it's easy to just orbit around. He's warm, fun, active at all points. He feeds beautiful things and warms cold hands.

Grian is also the sun in the way he burns. To come too close is often to burn into nothing. To look too long is often blinding. Long told tales warn not to fly too close. Burnt wax and invisible radiation- it isn't intentional, there's no malice in the destruction. He destroys anyway. It's the nature of the sun, to silently poison and burn.

Scott is the stars in how he guides. Company in the darkest night, a steady still light used to navigate the darkness. Scott loves deeply, giving all he has to see the ones who love him succeed. He burns for them, a steady presence, hopeful and certain, you're going to make it, he knows it.

Scott is also the stars in distance. The stars in our sky are a snapshot of time, thousands of years passed and trillions of miles away. As much as he may burn with all the radioactive heat of a star while he can, choosing to die first means Scott has no power over what happens once he's gone. All he can do is hope for the ones he loves to look up, and that the light will be bright enough still to guide them home.

Pearl is the moon in the way she changes. She's adaptable, able to shift easily, changing form. A loyal friend, a curse, something wicked, something that watches- the moon can be many things, depending, and that's one of her big strengths. Pearl survives- thrives- off her willingness to be what she's believed to be, what she has to be. Adaptability and change is one of the reasons Pearl is always one of the last ones standing.

Pearl is also the moon in her loneliness. Isolated through quiet nights with nothing but the howling of the wolves for company. Overlooking a world quiet and still and shrouded in shadow. Even if she longs for company, it's not in the nature of the moon, at least, not when the moon is truly visible.

Martyn is mars in victory. It may not be pretty or palatable for everyone, but there's an empowerment in it. Martyn seized victory, made an ending that was his and his alone. Exactly the way he wanted it. The best kind of selfishness, the kind where you finally get to hold something close and say it's yours, after so long of just playing a role in someone else's story.

Martyn is also mars in brutality. A barren red desert, inhospitable to all but himself. Maybe once it could have held life, could have been something kinder, but now all that remains is harsh freezing dust, brutal and selfish. Mars has no capacity to regret, but still, the rage of dust storms can sometimes feel like grief, or something close to it.

Scar is the earth in his capacity to create. Tending to animals, helping the flowers bloom, building incredible things. Trade and commerce, speech, energy and life. Everything to do with creation, with life, with civilization. The only winner who kept living beyond their victory.

Scar is also the earth in his capacity to destroy. Violence and destruction, dishonesty, injustice. The earth may be the holder of life, but it's also the most common destroyer of it. Earth can be an unforgiving and unsympathetic force, bringing injustice on the shifting of the tides and gathering of clouds.

[ludinusdaleth]

vax, his hair & his armor in black like a raven. ludinus, his hair & skin as white as the snow of eiselcross. vax, guardian of fate, ludinus, destroyer of it. vax the grim reaper. ludinus the white horse, the horseman. vax, gone too soon. ludinus, alive too long. vax & ludinus, eternally in the purgatory of immortality and undeath. vax & ludinus, both invisible to the matron. vax & ludinus, death & winter. death, winter, and the matron of ravens connecting them.

heretical as it feels to say, they are in some way brothers. kin.

ethedok & vordo in some ways meet again. certainly made in their image.

even as one sheds the others divine blood to end divinity, not knowing he'd choose mortal family over divinity like the other would, too.

[itsabouttimex2]

ooo if your not busy maybe Mei or Azure a gn! Reader who’s a descendant of the lady bone demon but said friend tries to hide that fact from them

(Thank you for sending such an interesting request! I ended up liking this scenario so much that I wrote out a few characters for it!)

Descendant of the Lady Bone Demon: Part One

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three)

Maybe they should’ve seen this coming. Maybe there were a few warning signs they didn’t pick up on. Looking back on it now, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? All those little things should’ve added up a long time ago.

The way the room grew silent and tense when you walked in, no matter how how exuberant it had been prior. How you manage to sneak up on everyone without even trying, as though you had no presence. The wide berth that strangers give you, even though they can’t explain why. That last one had been particularly strange for your friends. They hadn’t understood why people would treat you so coldly, not back then.

They understand now.

Mei Dragon thinks of you as one of her best friends, right alongside MK. Even in childhood were the two of you close, your company providing a brief break from her parents expectations and the crushing weight of living up to her family name. She grows up to think of you as a sibling, really. She’s a ride or die, rise to the challenge, thrill junkie sort of girl. And above all else, she’s fiercely loyal to her friends.

So Mei doesn’t believe a word that LBD has to say. She doesn’t care about destiny, about fate, about these so-called “invisible strings that guide us all through life”.

She lives her life as she pleases, doing what makes her and her friends happy! And she’s not gonna listen to a word that some wannabe world-destroyer has to say about it!

Until the Lady Bone Demon mentions you.

“Y/N bears my very own blood, thin though it has grown. In time, they will follow the very same path I have, to cleanse this world of pain and suffering.”

Now she’s listening. Her control over the Samadhi Fire slips, scorching a ring of death into the earth around her. The heat alone wilts the any flora that was spared outright combustion. “How…” The fire flickers, fizzles.

And then promptly reignites, blazing hotter than ever before. Immediately, the Lady Bone Demon cringes away from Mei’s sweltering power as oppressive heat waves bear down on her. She can only watch in fear and awe as the Samadhi Fire grows hotter and brighter, fueled by rage.

“How DARE you say that about my friend! Y/N would never do anything like that!” A blazing arc of black and red fire slices into the blue crystal formations created by the demon, melting them into sizzling puddles. Her anger builds with each lash of multicolored fire, reducing each and every spiked crystal around her to a mess of glowing goo.

That anger doesn’t fade even after the fight is over, not even after she gets to see the Lady Bone Demon shred apart and drift away. It’s cathartic to watch, but doesn’t make her any less angry about what she heard.

No, that anger only fades once she has you in her arms, hugging you as tightly to herself as possible. You don’t know about your lineage. No one else does either. Just Mei. Which leaves her with the worst dilemma of her life.

Does she tell you? Does she tell anyone?

She doesn’t want to be like Sun Wukong, hiding important information from even the people who would be affected by it the most. She was a victim of that, and it had hurt. She doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing she wants. But she also doesn’t want to cast any doubt on you, doesn’t want anyone to think you might end up a destructive foe that would one day need to be struck down.

The fear of losing you somehow outweighs the fear of you being angry at her for withholding information from you.

So she keeps quiet.

Mei rationalizes her silence on the matter by telling herself that she’ll tell you later. Yes, everything will work out, she’s sure of it! She’ll just… wait. Just a little bit. When everything calms down and everyone starts to move on from this disaster, she’ll speak up. Once everyone is in a better, happier mood, they’ll definitely be more receptive to the bad news, right? So she isn’t doing anything wrong. She isn’t acting like the Monkey King. She’s… just keeping you safe.

And she really hopes you won’t hate her for it.

———————————————————————

Tang has long pondered your place in this little group. It’s not that he doesn’t like having you here, nothing of the sort! Really, he sees you as family, the same way he sees everyone else in this ragtag group of misfits.

But you stick out like a sore thumb. Everyone else has a direct tie to the original pilgrims who once undertook a legendary journey to retrieve sacred texts.

Tang Sanzang for Tang. Zhu Baije for Pigsy. Sha Wujing for Sandy. Ao Lie for Mei. Sun Wukong for MK. Everyone had someone who their skills, appearance, or even personality harkened back to.

Everyone except for you. Tang had made several guesses before, wondering if there was someone you yourself were standing in the place of. But no one truly seems to fit. Rather than distancing himself from you over this disparity, he makes an effort to grow closer. “It must be lonely”, he reasons to himself, “being the odd man out.” He’s struggled with his own insecurities of being useless or weak, so he can relate to you on a personal level. After making that connection between the two of you, he starts to look out for you, trying to help guide you as you grow.

Tang probably sees himself as your father figure, just the way he sees himself as MK’s.

But, since you don’t have the support system that MK has, he tries to take a more involved role in your life. He’ll sit down with you to chat about any troubles or struggles you have, offering you a kind ear and a welcoming shoulder. And if you ever are struggling with something so bad that it breaks you down and leaves you in tears, he happily takes you into his arms and stays with you through the meltdown. If you fall asleep in his embrace after wearing yourself out, he enjoys it all the more.

He cherishes moments like that, actually.

Sure, he’s sympathetic to your feelings of loneliness and isolation. It’s true that he wants you to be happy. Sometimes he hates the world for hurting you the way it has.

But he loves that you trust him enough to break down in front of him, that you trust him to console and protect you in your weakest moments.

Even at a moment like this, where one of the greatest threats to humanity is bearing down on the two of you. For once, he doesn’t hide or cower. Not when your life is on the life. His golden shield encapsulates both of you, a fierce glare painting his face as he holds you close. You breath raggedly against his shoulder, barely able to support yourself. You had been wounded in the fight, nearly passing out after taking several blows for him and the others. Now, he holds you close, standing tall as you lean on him for support. He watches as the Lady Bone Demon throws attack after attack at the two of you, each blast of crystal and bone shattering and fading against his aureate shield.

The ancient demon glares down at him, a sneer curling her face. “You would fight your destiny? The great monk, Tang Sanzang-”

“I don’t care! Even if I am his reincarnation or his descendant… the choices I make are mine and mine alone! And I will always choose to protect my friends!”

“Even Y/N? Even the very one who bears my blood within them? Are you truly willing to risk saving them now, that they might follow my ways later?”

All the little pieces click into place for him. The mystery he had pondered the most was finally solved, and now he had to live with learning the answer.

“That- that doesn’t matter! Y/N is a person all their own, who will make their own decisions! And I trust them to stay by our side and fight for good! I won’t let you corrupt them!”

And he doesn’t. His resplendent barrier holds fast, shining brightly until all that is left of the demon has been scattered to the wind. He holds you gently, mustering the strength to carry you on his when everyone makes the trip back to Pigsy’s noodle shop. Someone like Sandy or Wukong would definitely better suited to the physical labor he was performing, but Tang couldn’t bear to separate himself from you yet.

Nor is he willing to let go once everyone has taken a seat. He props you up against himself, rubbing your back to keep you awake. “The kids eat first,” Pigsy says, carrying three hearty bowls of noodles. MK, then Mei, then you. Once all of you have your noodles, the chef goes back to the kitchen to start on another batch. Tang holds the bowl and the chopsticks, lifting the noodles to your mouth. Occasionally, he tips the bowl to your mouth so you can sip at the nourishing broth. On any other day, he would’ve swiped a few bites for himself while feeding you. Now, you’re all he can think of. He feeds you bite by bite, then guides you to lay your head in his lap once you’ve finished.

“Hey, Tang.” Pigsy peers down at him, another bowl of noodles in his hands. He passes it to Tang. “What was that demon lady saying to ya anyways?”

Tang looks down at you, watching your chest rise and fall, looking more at peace than ever before. He can’t tell you. Not here. Not now. Maybe not ever. But he and Pigsy can both keep secrets, and more than that, you’ll have two targets to split your anger between, keeping Tang from catching the brunt of it if you ever do find out. So he asks:

“Do you think you can keep a secret, Pigsy?”

Red Son

He doesn’t know why he likes you. By all means, you’re just another peasant, another mortal working at the same noodle store that his arch-rival is. But there’s something different about you. Maybe it’s the way you never seem to flinch or cringe or even cower. Maybe it’s the cool head you keep. Maybe it’s the wide-eyed awe you stare at his creations with.

Even after you had been kidnapped.

“I thinks that it was very clever of you,” you softly admit, not fighting against your bonds. “The way you used the tri-toothed 1x2 plates. I don’t see many people use those.”

He shouldn’t be happy to hear you say that. He should scoff and huff and strike down your praise like it’s meaningless drivel. But it’s not. Not to him. He’s been waiting to hear something like that for a long time, actually. Now, if it only it had been from the mouth of his father…

He shakes himself from those thoughts. “Not that a PEASANT like you could ever comprehend just how truly clever my work is! In fact, the legs of this machine are held in place by a truly unique-” “Technic angular wheel,” you finish for him. “It was a smart choice. I bet finding one that could evenly bear the weight of four legs at once wasn’t easy.”

No… no, it hadn’t been. In fact, it had been very hard to source that component. But here you were… acknowledging him. Praising him. Giving weight to his accomplishments by recognizing them. Somewhere deep inside, he’s a little touched to have his efforts commended.

Not that your kindness inspires him to release you. The only thing that frees you is MK and Mei coming in and storming through, knocking him over the head and escaping with you in their clutch.

Still, he doesn’t… hate you, at least. Or maybe, he just hates you less now. It’s a surprisingly good start.

A start that you continue to build off of throughout your repeated interactions, to his surprise. Your praise wasn’t just a one-time thing, wasn’t a way to get him to drop his guard. It had been genuine, entirely sincere. You had truly thought of him as clever, and you still do.

His schemes become less destructive, but more frequent. MK starts sending you out to deal with him, and most of your “skirmishes” end without any true damage. The two of you talk tech, and then he “tactically retreats” from the fight. Eventually, he drops the act, just swinging by the noodle store to talk with you about mechs or vehicles or rare components and where to find them at reasonable prices.

It’s a strange sight for everyone, the two of you amicably chatting. Sometimes someone will try to butt in, usually MK, who tries to keep up with your conversations to no avail. Other times it’ll be Pigsy, making sure that one of his employees isn’t being threatened or endangered. If one of his new mechs has a Journey to the West inspiration, Tang will happily chime in on it.

But most often, it’s only the two of you, happily talking as equals. Not enemies. Not rivals. Just… actual friends, somehow.

Even if it meant fighting to defend them, these are the sorts of moments he doesn’t want to lose. He wants to protect these cherished hours he spends with you, sharing noodles and blueprints in the middle of a crowded but welcoming restaurant.

Even if it meant fighting a foe he had no chance of defeating. All he has to do is buy a little bit of time. Just enough for MK and his ragtag team of idiots and peasants to smash this osseous demon into pieces. He glares up at her, his hair and hands exploding into flame. It’s a mere display, a small threat to keep her occupied. If she focuses on him, then she can’t hurt you.

Not that she’s trying.

“Foolish child. Do you really think I can’t understand the game that you’re trying to play? You would stand in the way of a peaceful world, all in the name of protecting the heir of your enemy?”

He falls to the ground, clutching his head in pain as she taps into his mind to deliver her next words.

“But a meager resistance cannot hope to undo destiny. I will find Y/N, and add their power to my own. That is their destiny, and I will see it fulfilled.”

“You- you won’t! I wont allow it, you… you PEASANT! You can’t hope to beat all of us! The Demon Bull Family, Sun Wukong and his successor, and the Six-Eared Macaque! All of us will stand against you! If we stand together, there is no threat that can overcome us!”

It’s a little funny, almost. Once, he would’ve scoffed and mocked another for saying such a thing. They sound silly on his tongue, cheesy and overblown. It’s something more suited to MK and his band of goons, speeches of friendship and overcoming adversities together. But it’s true.

And her defeat is testament to the strength that loves brings.

He thinks he loves you. You’re what he imagines having a little sibling is like. He wonders if you could love yourself, if you knew the truth of your heritage. Maybe you could. Maybe you’d fall apart and refuse to trust yourself ever again.

He chats idly with MK as you rest your head on his lap. It brings a strange peace to his heart. You look almost happy, in spite of the bruises and cuts. You look happy, which is proof that you didn’t hear a word that the Lady Bone Demon said about your blood ties.

He doesn’t want to rob you of that happiness so quickly, not when you fought and bled for it.

He absentmindedly strokes your head, thinking of how he’d roast anyone who might try to harm so much as a single hair on it. He can’t let anyone hurt you. Not even himself.

So he keeps quiet, and prays that all will turn out well.

[paingoes]

Destroyer

Trigger Discipline

(Masterlist)

this is pre-series, set in the first year delta was given to the emperor. delta and paris are both around 13 here.

(Content: living weapon whumpee, child abuse, dehumanization, power imbalances, minor bullying, slavery, emotional whump, mass death implied)

==============

It was fall break, one of the few times Paris was allowed back into Castle Thales. He dragged the suitcase behind him. There was barely enough time to set it down before the attendants swept him into the dressing room. It was hard to play the handheld with his head up straight, but he’d gotten good at it — in the same way the maids had gotten good at working around him.

His leg bouncing annoyed them enough that they let him take recess. It was only then that he first saw his father, out in the empty hallway, against the backdrop of the purple banners. The Emperor grabbed at Paris’s wrist. He pulled it up to examine the bruises on his knuckles that the makeup hadn’t covered. No hello.

“The school called. Do you think this behavior is acceptable?” His voice was calm, always calm. Paris pulled his hand back protectively.

“They started it,” he insisted.

“Don’t talk back to me, Paris. This is beneath you.”

“I got all As. Four point seven with APs. Did the school call to tell you that too?” He didn’t hide the ire in his voice. That school was out to fucking get him. None of the other students ever got in trouble for fighting. It wasn’t like he could do it by himself.

The look his father gave him killed that argument before it could start. He wilted. The old man paid him no further mind, sending him straight back into the changing room. He spent the remainder of it in terse silence, not even arguing when they placed the crown on his head, the heavy one that always gave him migraines. He never wore it during the school year. He never wore it if he could avoid it. The weight of it felt all wrong.

Nobody mentioned there was going to be a showcase that night. (They might’ve, actually. He never checked his email back then.) Even if he’d known, he still would not have been prepared for the little off-worlder kneeling on the opposite side of the old man’s throne. Dark blue skin, even darker hair. Bright, bright eyes. The Emperor’s new toy. 

Paris realized with a start that they were the same age.

He settled into the throne. The old man hadn’t come in yet; it was weird to share the dais. He watched the other boy try his best to stay invisible, like he wasn’t even there. They’d clearly had different media training. He slipped the handheld back out of his pocket while he waited for the event to start.

He sat through most of the ball unbelievably bored by the whole thing. They’d ceased to be impressive by the time he was seven years old. He never could fix his face; he was sure the discontent was obvious upon it. He didn’t understand how anyone else could manage to be polite about it or why they bothered to. The old man was good at many things, but true spectacle was not among them. That part desperately needed work. 

Still, he was intrigued by the motion to his left-hand side, the noise as they unchained the boy from where he was kneeling and led him into the center of the room. 

The lights dimmed — and his colors burned. He did not fully grasp the technical significance of the display; he doubted most people there did. The handler explained it as a kind of microscopic manipulation of the light, some supreme physical achievement. What it manifested as was the holographic appearance of the scale dragon right over their heads, its shimmering form reflected in all the small particles of air. The mirage was impressive. Paris still did not understand what it had to do with statecraft.

He saw the boy swoon like he might faint, then steady himself. He really was fresh out of the box. His eyes flitted nervously from side to side, trying to take it all in. He flinched at any loud sound — and there were many. He wasn’t used to it yet. When they led him back to the side of the throne, he seemed more grateful to be out of the spotlight than he was upset at being chained. He didn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

It took a while before Paris could get him alone, without the old man watching. He had to wait until after the showcase was over and only the ball remained.

“How did you do that?” Paris asked. He leaned against the leftmost beam of the dais, partially obscured by the curtain. The boy was still kneeling there, still chained to the empty throne’s base.

He turned his head slowly. His glowing blue eyes studied Paris carefully; for a moment, he was afraid of the intensity behind them. Paris could not read his expression, did not appreciate the creeping silence he commanded.

“I know you heard me.” A certain defensiveness crept into Paris’s voice. The boy looked at him apologetically, raising a finger to his lips.

“Oh,” Paris’s eyes widened with the realization. “You’re not allowed to talk?”

He nodded his head so subtlety that Paris guessed he wasn’t even allowed to move. 

“I won’t tell anyone,” he promised. 

The boy seemed unconvinced, his eyes passing over the crown in Paris’s hair. Fuckin’ thing. He took it off.

The old man barked his name so loudly that the boy jumped, as if it was his own. Paris just rolled his eyes, replaced the crown, and stepped away from the dais.

“It isn’t your friend,” His father warned him, “Just because you can’t keep your own doesn’t mean I’m buying you new ones.”

His face burned. 

Paris stayed up until the party was over, even when it ran well into the next morning. As the last of the guests trickled out, he sat down on the stairs of the dais. The boy’s handler came to untether him, pulling him roughly to his feet.

“Did it talk to you?” The man asked. It took Paris a second to realize the question was addressed to him. 

“No?” He said. The boy looked at him gratefully, like he’d covered up for him, when he was just telling the truth. The doctor looked somewhat disappointed by this answer. His irritation switched targets.

“You shouldn’t speak Common in the palace. It’s unbecoming.”

Every adult swore they had a right to tell him how to act. Even this total stranger.

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” Paris snapped. 

The fight drained out of him as his father re-entered the hall. All noise died but for his voice.

“I’ll take it,” his father said, extending one hand out in an almost chivalrous motion. The boy, now unchained at the neck, quickly jogged down the stairs to meet him. Paris watched as his father slid his hand onto the boy’s shoulder, leading him gently out of the hall. He watched as one ringed hand brushed a strand of black hair out of the boy’s face. The boy flinched — ungrateful.

========

The Emperor did the same thing over spring break, the next time Paris returned to Thales. He had to watch the same routine, watch the old man carefully soothe out the folds of Delta’s clothing, run a thumb over his cheek. He’d been given free reign at this one, apparently. Even though he kneeled by the dais again, he wasn’t chained to it. It seemed like he was allowed to take breaks.

“It’s an object,” the Emperor would insist whenever Paris tried to get close. “What use do you have for it? I won’t tell you again.”

He still paid it more attention than he ever spared him. So publicly, as if he wanted him to see. Paris bit into the flesh of his own hand, leaving teethmarks. His father smacked him on the back of the head; he withdrew his hand back to his side, wiping the blood and saliva along his pants.

He could only corner Delta when the night was closing in, when all the adults were too drunk to notice. Paris caught him just outside of the dining room. He flicked at the silver tiara placed into his — its? — hair. It fell a few inches out of place. Wordlessly, Delta readjusted it. He kept his head bowed, his hands at his side, not speaking. Totally resigned to the treatment. 

“He doesn’t actually like you, you know.” Paris said. There wasn’t much certainty behind the statement. 

It got a reaction, but not the one he had hoped. Delta looked up a bit, the side of his mouth quirked up into a disbelieving grin. He thought it was funny. He was fucking laughing at him.

Paris was temporarily too mad to even see. Delta seemed to recognize the danger and immediately became expressionless again.

“Sorry.” There was still a bit of humor in his voice. “Um. Yeah. I know.”

Like he didn’t even care. It didn’t mean to him what it meant to Paris. 

His hands curled into fists. Delta noticed, stepping back a little.

“Your Highness,” He added the honorific on quickly, as if that was the problem. 

“Forget it,” Paris waved him off. 

He walked away before Delta could even respond, retreating to his room. He’d be reprimanded for it later, but there was no way he could go back to the party now. There was something hollow in him that would not let him sleep.

===========

Delta moved the pawn forward, his claws clicking delicately against the piece. The whole board shook from the turbulence of the ship. 

Even in summer, it seemed like they were making a concentrated effort to keep Parks out of his own house.  He saw his dad more, though. It was tour season; he was obligated to tag along. It meant that his schooling never truly ended throughout the year, but he didn’t mind so much. Everyone said he was a natural.

Delta was the only person even close to his age on the tours. As much as he’d been discouraged from interacting with him, they saw each other constantly, the only ones at each other’s eye level. He would’ve sworn the kid sought him out on purpose. 

He didn’t talk much, but he was good at listening, which Paris cared more about. They broke off from the main group in the downtime, descending deeper into the ship. There was an old chess set laying around in the crew’s lounge. Paris had climbed up to the top shelf to get it, letting it clatter loudly against the coffee table. Delta knew how to play; it was weird, the things he knew and didn’t know. The things he was good at. Paris got the sense that Delta was letting him win. 

They were halfway through the second game when the doors opened up, entirely too many personnel for the situation at hand. The Emperor was among them. Paris shrank back.

He startled as Delta’s handler abruptly backhanded the boy, knocking him out of his seat and onto the floor. He heard Delta take a sharp inhale of breath, but remain silent otherwise. 

“Apologize.” The doctor’s hand was in a vice grip against the back of the boy’s neck, nearly pressing his head to the ground in the forced bow.

“I’m sorry,” Delta responded immediately, without hesitation, even though it hadn’t been his fault. The doctor shook him a little, prompting a stronger reaction. “I’m so sorry, Your Highness.”

Paris had asked him to. It’d been his idea. But his father was standing right there. He couldn’t bring himself to admit to it, not after he’d already been warned. 

“It’s okay,” Paris said softly; the words felt sickly in his mouth.

As he caught the expression on the Emperor’s face, he could tell it hadn’t mattered. The old man hadn’t believed it for a second.

The doctor released his hold, pointing sharply back to the exit. Delta scrambled to his feet, practically running out of the door. He hadn’t been looking at Paris when he’d apologized and he didn’t look back at him when he left.

They all followed out onto the balcony for the show of force. With the handprint still across his face, Delta sat by the edge of the platform, his eyes closed in deep concentration. In the next moment, there was calamity. The large fortress walls all broke down beneath their own weight, sending the enemy castle tumbling down into the sea. All the residents had still been inside. The old man kept a tight grip on the back of Paris’s collar, making sure he saw all of it.

===========

The clipshow continued in the Emperor’s office, all the shades drawn and the lights dimmed. It was a supercut of the weapon’s military record, all the carnage, even the burnt bodies. Some of the shots were truly gratuitous. Paris wasn’t allowed to look away. 

“Twelve years in the making and you’re selfish enough to endanger it. You can’t be that desperate,” his father said.

“I wasn’t trying to endanger it.” Paris’s fist clenched and unclenched against the chair. “I didn’t…think it was a big deal.”

“And I assume you know more than the experts, like always.” It was still dark in the room. The clips were still playing silently.

Paris’s lip bled a little from where he bit it. He had matching cuts along his tongue. He shook his head.

“I don’t know how to make this more explicit to you, Paris. It is a weapon. It may look like a person, but its sole purpose is to kill and destroy.” The video showed a still-living hand reaching out from beneath the rubble. “It does not need you confusing it or meddling with its programming. When I tell you not to interact with it, I am doing it for your own good. Its reactions are unpredictable. The last thing I want is for you to become one of its casualties.”

Paris flinched as his father’s hands slammed down onto the desk. His voice still came out calm.

“It only exists to be commanded — and that command is not yours. You will not meddle with my property. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” he muttered beneath his breath.

“This will not be a conversation next time,” the Emperor promised. Paris nodded. His throat was choked up.

He slinked out of the still-dark office, back down the hall to his room. He was glad summer was ending. He didn’t even want to be home anymore.

He was surprised to see Delta still pacing the halls with his handler, not yet placed back in his cell. He briefly made eye contact with Paris, then immediately cast his gaze back down to the floor, chastened.

……

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety

[doctorslippery]

An early villains/first villains conglomeration that was suggested on Fuh as a supervillain team to faceoff with their opposite numbers.

Wonder Woman - Dr. Poison Batman - Hugo Strange (though the Monk and Dr. Death were earlier) Green Lantern - Invisible Destroyer Superman - Ultra-Humanite Flash - Turtle

Could be an interesting story whether you stuck with Hugo or went with one of the earlier two. Some of the heroes faced earlier villains, but they were not considered supervillains.

The Ultra-Humanite lays claim to being the first published supervillain in DC Comics.

[henrytanael19]

Propatulus Aurora AU

In which Earth, the entire solar sytem and other planets is alive, a universe where the impossible is only an illusion, where monsters and gods are sometimes both and can be killed, living amongst their mortal kin, where the concept of Death is different for every planet or galaxy, but the solar system has a concept of death joined with the void, as inevitable as it is kind, the primordial darkness rejoicing of the life that dots it. And in which Humans are just vibing after being properly introduced to the Wider Galaxy Community, turning enemies into friends and the like. Also, Earth takes no shit from alien invaders and boots them out the moment they try to enter her atmosphere.

Except for the good ones, they can stay.

In this Au, Planets were vaguely sorted into three categories: Destroyer, Creator, and Protector. The likes of Primus, Eukaris, Devisiun, Petropia and numerous others were known as Creator-planets, due to being able to seed life from their own bodies. Whereas Unicron, Pyros, Appoplexia and the like were known as the Destroyer-planets, being known to destroy dead planets to make way for the new cycle. As the name suggested, Protector-planets were primarily concerned with the defense of their home system, protecting it both from Destroyers seeking to devour a still living planet and Creators from seeding other planets with parasites, but also has the fewest planets of the three, with Earth being counted among it alongside her siblings in the Solar System in the Milky Way. Arburia also counted as a Protector before it's destruction.

But for those lacking a Protector-planet to defend them, a Guardian and a Titan was the next best thing individual planets can have. Consisting of a planet's strongest children, they can be considered as gods in the view of others. E.g. Godzilla and Mothra of Earth are a textbook example of a Titan and Guardian pairing, despite the fact that Earth was a Protector-planet. Earth is their version of a cryptid to her fellow planets, appearing in other galaxies with no warnings.

Where humans have powers that is derived from their souls, some able to turn it tangible as their weapon of choice like a sword, or manifesting an entire armour made up of their soul or even performing them like the four elements. Due to this close connection with their own lifeforce they live somewhere in between the living and the spiritual world, otherwise called as the umbral, or fourth dimension. The denizens of the Umbral World consist of mythological or extinct creatures and primarily steeped in magic, invisible to the naked eye. And in honor of their mother-planet, they dedicated themselves to taking care of creatures trying to cause trouble in the mortal realm, whether by rehabilitation or execution, the primary group known for this is called the Titanslayers, led by June Darby and Cade Yeager.

All of this is done quietly in the shadows, considering almost none in the Wider Galaxy Community is aware of the Umbral Dimension. The Anur system are one of the few to also be able to interact with the Umbral Dimension, as well as the Null Dimension and Legerdomain by virtue of being attached to it.

Earth is steeped in magic, so humans have been able to mostly connect it seamlessly with technology and even science (E.g. Ben Tennyson being a World Shifter as well as a biologist in this AU). The primary examples are the Jaegers, metal machines operated by human pilots and the love child of science, technology and magic.

The Earth-Titans are also denizens of the Umbral Dimensions, so they are a visible example of creatures originating in the Umbral Dimension living in the Mortal Realm.

Also, Earth is as ancient as the other planets, consisting of those ages in trillions, but because she only settled into a planet after most planets already turned inactive in the case of the Creator-planets, the Galaxy widely believed she was only 4 billion years old, having only counted the years she was a planet rather than the active creature she was back then, having been the third to settle as a planet in their solar system.

Also, Earth's biodiversity came from the planets and creatures she has killed and eaten, once having been described as containing a black hole for a stomach, and with those biodiversity inherited by humans was born their nearly limitless ability to procreate with any sentient creature in the Galaxy. As long as they have the equivalent of a soul, they can carry a child of that alien species, double the effectiveness if they were just using their soul, as having just used it means their lifeforce is still closer to the surface of their physical body and made flexible enough to make procreation between two different species possible. (E.g. The Plumbers Kids/Amalgam Kids, Max McGrath, Kevin Levin, Others)

Hybrid children still aren't that common though, due to having to feed fragment bits of their own soul to sustain a half foreign onr. It can even prove taxing enough to require a third party stepping in just so both parent and offspring doesn't die.

Ancient creatures lurk in the background of the universe, taking the form of Suns, Black Holes and the like. Helios, the Sun of the Solar System, is one such example.

And as a bonus, this AU is primarily crack with eldritch horror, heartfelt feelings and interspecies romance mixed in.

In other words, welcome to the crackfest that is Propatulus Aurora, and enjoy your stay!

(PS. I'll be taking stuff from each canon and mashing them together to fit my perceptions and suits my purposes, and ignoring anything else that doesn't.)

[dcbinges]

Showcase #23 (1959) by John Broome & Gil Kane

[saphronethaleph]

Totenritt

“What’s she doing?” Poe asked, looking back at the Raddus.

Holdo had fallen back a little, once the rest of the crew were away, and now the cruiser was swinging around. Banking, engines flaring back to full power, and Poe frowned as he did a mental calculation.

She couldn’t have the fuel to last more than five or ten minutes like that. Maybe less, as the engine glow went from steady to a brighter stuttering.

“She’s going to burn out the engine liners if she keeps that up for long,” C’ai Threnalli muttered.

“I don’t think she’s got much reason to care about the liners,” Nien Nunb said, as the Raddus finished her turn and began plunging straight towards the First Order fleet.

Turbolaser fire lashed out at the Resistance ship, scoring first one hit and then another as it continued on a doomed voyage, and Poe frowned.

“Something’s not right,” he said.

“We know that much,” Goode said. “What’s going on?”

“I thought Holdo was-” Poe began, then chopped off the words; they all knew what he thought. “But why is she doing this? She can’t achieve-”

Another blast hit the shields, and in reply they flared up – not the pale white from before, but a brilliant blue.

“The hypercharge coils,” Nunb explained.

“What are hypercharge coils?” Poe asked, glancing back at the long-time Resistance member.

“It’s the augmented shield system,” Threnalli said, the abednedo pointing. “You remember?”

“Yeah, I know, I was wondering why she refused to turn the shields to full power,” Poe agreed. “There’s a whole shield bank she didn’t turn on, that’s how Leia got so badly hurt – that’s part of why-”

He bit the words off.

“I didn’t understand, and she didn’t explain,” he said.

“She’s turned them on now,” Threnalli told him, as sparks flashed from the shields of the cruiser.

It was plunging in closer and closer, now, on a direct reciprocal of the First Order fleet’s course, and the guns were giving it a fearsome battering – but the shields repulsed every shot, and by now they were glowing a continuous blue like a sapphire.

“-wait,” Poe said, softly. “There’s no way – that ship’s taking an impossible amount of punishment.”

He looked at Nunb and Threnalli. “What’s going on?” he said. “There’s no way – something like that, there has to be a price!”

“There is,” Nunb said, nodding. “The hypercharge coils don’t last long before they burn out yet. A minute, maximum – then they explode.”

It looked like whoever was commanding the Supremacy had realized what was going on, now, and that they weren’t going to be able to stop the Raddus. But their turn was late, and the Supremacy was a giant and sluggish ship, and Holdo rode her Star Cruiser like a snubfighter.

It hit the shields of the massive capital ship with a white flash of lightning, one that made Poe flinch away from the viewport, and violent backlash energy crackled over the whole of the Supremacy’s hull. Several towers and systems on the surface of the capital ship blew up, and it shuddered in space.

Then, now invisible inside, the Raddus reached the heart of her prey.

Whether the hypercharge coils failed at that point, or seconds later, was academic. The power system for hundreds of cubic kilometres of Star Destroyer had a cruiser-sized hole in it, and the hypermatter reactor ruptured cataclysmically.

The hull rippled, gouts of flame and smoke issuing forth, and hundred-metre long sections of superstructure flew through space like shrapnel. Secondary explosions lit the entire craft from wing to wing, fragments caught at least three of the escorting Star Destroyers with enough force to wreck them as well, and when the explosions faded it was clear that the Supremacy had been outright split in half by the explosion.

Poe’s mouth worked soundlessly for a moment.

“May the Force be with her,” Nunb said, bowing his head.

“Yeah,” Poe agreed. “And – yeah.”

[courtneyraeblogs1221]

The 100 Recommendations

Smut *

Bellamy Blake

Knife Threats*

Last Night*

All Mine*

Invisible String*

Just Friends

John Murphy

You Weren’t There*

Survival Strategies*

Faking It*

New Outlook*

Say*

Bellamy x Clarke

Destroyer Of Worlds*

Save Water, Shower With A Friend*

Checkmate*

Power Play*

Sex Education*

Threesoms

The Sky Boy And The Grounder* (Bellamy x Raven x OC)

Puddle* (Bellamy x Murphy x OC)

[chaosteddybear]

6 Song Soundtrack Mixtape

Thanks so much for the tag! (spyri and sphinx both tagged me and I tagged you both in the Hexx one soooooo I won't spam you AGAIN).

Rules: If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following: 1. An event that defines your character's past 2. How your character sees themselves 3. How others view them 4. Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic) 5. A major fight scene 6. End credits song

Mix: my OC across various games and AUs and worlds <3

1. An event that defines your character's past Nobody's Home

Her feelings she hides Her dreams she can't find

And I couldn't help her I just watched her make The same mistakes again What's wrong, what's wrong now? Too many, too many problems Don't know where she belongs Where she belongs She wants to go home But nobody's home That's where she lies Broken inside With no place to go No place to go To dry her eyes Broken inside [...] And now you can't find What you left behind Be strong, be strong now Too many, too many problems Don't know where she belongs [...]

So, the event I chose for this is coming home after a trip to a house full of nothing but death. This triggers the start of his Rambling Era, as I call it, where this song explains his consuming thoughts. Including telling himself to be strong, hide his feelings, squash his dreams, etc.

2. How your character sees themselves: Whatever It Takes

Whip, whip Run me like a racehorse Hold me like a ripcord Break me down and build me up […] Whatever it takes 'Cause I love the adrenaline in my veins I do whatever it takes […] I wanna be invisible Looking at my years like a martyrdom Everybody needs to be a part of 'em Never be enough, I'm the prodigal son I was born to run, I was born for this 'Cause I love how it feels when I break the chains […] I'm just a product of the system of catastrophe And yet a masterpiece, and yet I'm half diseased And when I am deceased At least I'll go down to the grave and die happily

This song captures the exact balance that Mix walks between being obsessed with himself while also putting himself down. He believes he can do anything, and he can certainly withstand anything.

3. How others view them Bullet with Butterfly Wings

The world is a vampire, sent to drain Secret destroyers, hold you up to the flames And what do I get, for my pain? Betrayed desires, and a piece of the game [...]

Now I'm naked, nothing but an animal But can you fake it, for just one more show? [...]

Tell me I'm the only one Tell me there's no other one [...] And I still believe that I cannot be saved

This song captures his resentment towards the people who took over the town he's from. He's also my rage boy (definitely an animal walking the line between wild and tame), and those who don't pay attention to anything else would absolutely just see this. They also may not realize that he's not in it for what he gets, and he doesn't think he needs to be saved (and if he did would he deserve it?). But hey, he is certainly obvious (when in love) about wanting to feel special. Is he obvious enough though?

5. A major fight scene: Satan Is My Motor

I've got wheels of polished steel I've got tires that grab the road I've got seats that selflessly hold my friends And a trunk that can carry the heaviest of loads I've got a mind that can steer me to your house And a heart that can bring you red flowers My intentions are good and earnest and true But under my hood is internal combustion power

Mix is so not okay. He sees himself as a tool, focusing on his usefulness to the important people in his life, specifically what he must do for them.

So this is what plays in his head as he picks off enemies. He spends his time aiming and shooting calmly as he reflects and focuses on his use and how much he loves his friends. He likes to be calm and focused while he enacts his duty.

He will get them all before any figure out where he is. So it's not a super hype song. Though, I do have an alt hype song for his more rambunctious fight scenes: Bark at the Moon.

6. End credits song: Why Would You Be Loved

It's a lie, the high that you have with love It feels like gold when you hold it [...] I wouldn't say it, but I blame them The bleedin' hearts, the arts and that other stuff All the same motivations will melt away Like snowflakes on a tongue, baby [...] I wouldn't say it, but I blame them [...] Why would you play it all on somethin' as hollow as trust? (Hey) What if you gave it all to find that it wasn't enough? (Hey) What if, under the gaze of all, you come short when the going gets rough? [...] They look for somethin' to be done for those that are most in pain What about me and my achin'? The scales rehung, the breakin' of yoke and chain What about me and my breakin'? And if you ain't for all, how could you try it all, baby? So why, why, why?

This one might seem against who he is, which is why it fits the credits, I think. These are conversations he has with himself. Is he right to be so naive, or is it a waste of time? Is he neglecting himself by constantly looking for love where his own isn't matched? He ultimately chooses to keep hope every single time. He has a strong will that way. But not out of naivete.

I tag: @loveless-nameless-graceless-two @seynne @bite-the-bloody-hand , and you dear Reader!

[talonabraxas]

Shiva Nataraja ॐ

Symbolism of Nataraja Nataraja as a symbol is a marvelous invention combining Shiva’s role as creator, preserver, and destroyer in a single image. Each of the elements in the image has a unique meaning to it.

The Damaru Shiva holds in his upper right hand is said to make the first sound of creation, the heartbeat of the universe, the Maya, the divine fire (Agni) on the upper left hand signifies the holocaust, with his lower right hand he makes Abhayamudra; the gesture that calms all the fear and the left-hand makes the gesture of Gaja hasta, the symbol of salvation and liberation.

Nataraja - Cosmic Dance His right foot stamps on the dwarf figure, Apasmara Purusha, represent illusion and ignorance, leading humanity away from the truth. The matted hair spread during the dance. His energy and wilderness disperse; his lock contains a skull, a datura blossom, and a crescent moon depicting that Shiva is always present though he is invisible.

Ganga, the holy river, resides in his hair, which signifies creation and destruction. The two eyes portray the sun and the moon, and the third eye defines knowledge and insights. Together they symbolize an equilibrium of three Gunas- Sattva, Rajas, and Tamas.

In his Nataraja form, Shiva dances within a flaming halo (Prabha Mandala) that symbolizes time and is presented in a circle as it is cyclical and never-ending. Though the cosmic dance releases energy, passion, and wilderness, Shiva has a smiling face.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

The Faith of Many

1 Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. 2 This is what the ancients were commended for.

3 By faith we understand that the universe was formed at God’s command, so that what is seen was not made out of what was visible.

4 By faith Abel brought God a better offering than Cain did. By faith he was commended as righteous, when God spoke well of his offerings. And by faith Abel still speaks, even though he is dead.

5 By faith Enoch was taken from this life, so that he did not experience death: ��He could not be found, because God had taken him away.’ For before he was taken, he was commended as one who pleased God. 6 And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.

7 By faith Noah, when warned about things not yet seen, in holy fear built an ark to save his family. By his faith he condemned the world and became heir of the righteousness that is in keeping with faith.

8 By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going. 9 By faith he made his home in the promised land like a stranger in a foreign country; he lived in tents, as did Isaac and Jacob, who were heirs with him of the same promise. 10 For he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God. 11 And by faith even Sarah, who was past childbearing age, was enabled to bear children because she considered him faithful who had made the promise. 12 And so from this one man, and he as good as dead, came descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as countless as the sand on the seashore.

13 All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. 14 People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. 15 If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. 16 Instead, they were longing for a better country – a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.

17 By faith Abraham, when God tested him, offered Isaac as a sacrifice. He who had embraced the promises was about to sacrifice his one and only son, 18 even though God had said to him, ‘It is through Isaac that your offspring will be reckoned.’ 19 Abraham reasoned that God could even raise the dead, and so in a manner of speaking he did receive Isaac back from death.

20 By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau in regard to their future.

21 By faith Jacob, when he was dying, blessed each of Joseph’s sons, and worshipped as he leaned on the top of his staff.

22 By faith Joseph, when his end was near, spoke about the exodus of the Israelites from Egypt and gave instructions concerning the burial of his bones.

23 By faith Moses’ parents hid him for three months after he was born, because they saw he was no ordinary child, and they were not afraid of the king’s edict.

24 By faith Moses, when he had grown up, refused to be known as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter. 25 He chose to be ill-treated along with the people of God rather than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. 26 He regarded disgrace for the sake of Christ as of greater value than the treasures of Egypt, because he was looking ahead to his reward. 27 By faith he left Egypt, not fearing the king’s anger; he persevered because he saw him who is invisible. 28 By faith he kept the Passover and the application of blood, so that the destroyer of the firstborn would not touch the firstborn of Israel.

29 By faith the people passed through the Red Sea as on dry land; but when the Egyptians tried to do so, they were drowned.

30 By faith the walls of Jericho fell, after the army had marched round them for seven days.

31 By faith the prostitute Rahab, because she welcomed the spies, was not killed with those who were disobedient.

32 And what more shall I say? I do not have time to tell about Gideon, Barak, Samson and Jephthah, about David and Samuel and the prophets, 33 who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, and gained what was promised; who shut the mouths of lions, 34 quenched the fury of the flames, and escaped the edge of the sword; whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies. 35 Women received back their dead, raised to life again. There were others who were tortured, refusing to be released so that they might gain an even better resurrection. 36 Some faced jeers and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. 37 They were put to death by stoning; they were sawn in two; they were killed by the sword. They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and ill-treated – 38 the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, living in caves and in holes in the ground.

39 These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised, 40 since God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect. — Hebrews 11 | New International Version - UK (NIVUK) Holy Bible, New International Version® Anglicized, NIV® Copyright © 1979, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® All rights reserved worldwide. Cross References: Genesis 1:1; Genesis 4:4; Genesis 5:21; Genesis 6:9; Genesis 12:1; Genesis 12:8; Genesis 17:9; Genesis 23:4; Genesis 24:6; Genesis 27:4; Genesis 39:20; Genesis 47:31; Exodus 2:10-11; Exodus 2:13-14 and 15; Exodus 2:22; Exodus 3:15; Exodus 14:22; Exodus 18:4; Joshua 2:1; Joshua 6:15; Judges 4:1; judges 6:2; Judges 14:6; 2 Samuel 12:31; 1 Kings 17:22-23; Job 36:21; Isaiah 14:32; Matthew 12:36; Luke 9:31; Luke 14:33; Acts 7:20; Romans 8:24; Romans 9:7; Hebrews 1:1; Hebrews 7:19; Hebrews 9:15; Hebrews 12:23; James 2:21-22; Revelation 6:11; Revelation 20:8

What is Faith?