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gothamsglam · 4 years ago

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How Wonder-land-a-ful!

Transferring to SHIELD high did many things for Tony, one of them was reuniting him with James Rhodes. Just not how he wanted to.

Ever After High/Marvel Fusion. Ironhusbands, of course. (You don't have to know much about Ever After High to read this, think just some fairy tale AU and you'll be fine!)

AO3 LINK IN NOTES

I wanted to churn out one more story for the end of 2020, I thought something more silly would be a great way to end this uh year.

This idea has stuck with me for a while, and I finally wrote it.

Hope you enjoy!!!

~Vix

SHIELD High was so bland . Yes, it was grand of course, structured like the classically large fairy-tale castles of Ever After. The hallways were marble with lockers and vines lining the walls and trees and plants growing willy nilly around the school. Chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, and large arched windows showed off the beauty of the lands around them. In the distance, Tony swears he can see Sleeping Beauty’s castle.

But SHIELD high was just bland in comparison to home. To Wonderland . Not even the personalized dorms could make up for the fact that school was all year long— ew , who made that rule—instead of one day a year. Tony missed the nonsensical beauty of SI High, where the hallways ran instead of you, where you had to find the paintbrushes in passing period to paint the doors—free art credits!—, and the cafeteria that was switched with the auditorium.

But the castle-teria at SHIELD was just a long hall with rows and rows of marvel benches, pillars in the corners to honor the greek storylines and pay tribute to the last generation of Fairytale legends.

It was so boring. And just looking at it made Tony want to *poof* right there and then.

“Hi Tony,” Steve Rogers asked, coming behind him in the castle-teria, “Need a place to sit?”

Oh and this, this was another thing Tony wasn’t fond of. Transferring to SHIELD high meant he actually was walking among the children of fairy tale legend. Disgusting.

Father was too fond of them, far too fond of them. Back when Wonderland and Ever After had many open portals between one another—back before the curse on Wonderland by the Evil Queen of the HYDRA family. Howard was an ambassador , the git.

Howard didn’t get the White Rabbit legacy as Tony did, no, Uncle Jarvis had. Howard was a part of the Wakandan court, one of many peace ambassadors to the other royal families, particularly the ones in Ever After. Oh, the tales Tony was told as a young bunny, of the Rogers Family’s legacy brought forth by the apple, of the Red Hooded Romanoffs, and the Rose pricked Wilsons.

Tony was glad he didn’t have to walk among them at SI High, he was content to only have to see them in the crowd at Legacy day. Tony was actually really excited for Legacy day, his own legacy wasn’t following his father, but rather his mother and Uncle Jarvis. Signing his page in the Storybook of Legends was a milestone Tony didn’t mind looking forward to.

However Tony also understood why James Barnes, heir to the Evil Queen, wouldn’t want to sign. To each their own, he supposes.

But ugh, SHIELD high had too many Princes, he hated it.

His nose twitching, Tony ducked away from Rogers—who was bigger, blonder, and oh the clocks was that a red crown on his stupid head? “Thanks, but no thanks, golden boy. I’ll just—uh—”

He looked out at the rows and rows of tables, at the heads of up-dos and flower pins, and the sea of gelled down curls and impeccable sleeves. Seriously how does no one have a stain on their shirt? It’s mud-loaf day!

There! Out in the crowd, a hand popped out waving him over, Tony grinned, popping up a bit and rushing away from the other guy, “See ya, Rogers!”

“Bye…?”

Resisting the urge to stick out his tongue, Tony padded away with swift steps, the click of his shoes drowned out by the noise of the castle-teria. Reaching the table in the back, he grinned at the sight of familiar friends.

He wasn’t the only one apart of the exchange program of course, in fact, he was the second wave of students, prepared by letters sent by the other students. Tony had his own assigned group of the next exchange student. A lovely little trio of kids. Peter would not stop asking about the royal classes offered at SHIELD and MJ was more interesting in the classes offered by Maria Hill. Tony wouldn’t know, of course, he switched out of those classes the second day after running into pig shit mid-chase. For a house on chicken legs, it was surprisingly very fast.

Virginia ‘Pepper’ Potts was donned in swirls of light peach and blue with subtle armor around her waist and shoulders. Her hair was curled, pinned away from her face in a half updo, with the rest falling around her and nearly touching the table as she leaned in to pat the now empty spot across from her.

“Tony!” She exclaimed, freckles dancing across her face as she broke out into a smile, “got lost?” She teased.

Tony blew a raspberry, “Pssht, no, How could I get lost here? Wonderland was more interesting, this place is just boring,” he waved, twirling his fork in his food.

T’challa laughed, the matte gold detailing on his black jacket catching the light beans from the windows, it covered his purple and black card-like patterned dress shirt “That’s what you think, Stark. But with everything looking the same, you’ll pass by the same five classrooms over and over without noticing.”

Tony also laughed, “True. Remember, how—when you missed the upside-down sidewalk outside of bio-mechanics—you could end up in fishing class because of the fountain step? Every time the freshmen would come in dripping halfway through class.”

“Oh, does everyone still call them fish?” Sharon asked, pulling out Earl the dormouse from her empty teacup. He hopped up her shoulder to hide in her mini top hat. Her suit jacket was draped over her shoulders—rather than it being on the bench—and her cream shirt had mini hats detailed, blending in with the folds as it was only a few shades darker.

“Classically,” Tony replied with a wink. They turned back to their conversations, gossiping about their peers such as Maximoff—from Cinderella’s line—who was enamored with Vision—from the hunter’s line. Scandalous.

Tony halfheartedly listened to the discussion but was really on the verge of nodding off. His roommate—Justin Hammer, stupid son of the Cheshire cat—kept playing pranks on him and ruining his things with paint bombs. He almost got a fairy fail in physics because his latest essay had swamp goop over it! He had to stay up rewriting it, which wouldn’t be a problem normally but he had stayed up trying to make weld a new type of gear for his pet project.

Tony must have dozed off for a bit, because when he blinked open his eyes, he was resting on his elbows, folded under some familiar fabric. Blinking blearily at the side of his tray, Tony sat up. Well, that’s embarrassing, so much for his reputation. Pushing a hand through his hair, he avoided glancing around and instead went to look at his lap and pull out his pocket watch. However, someone else reached out to poke his side, resulting in a leap and an ‘eep!’.

“Hey there, sleeping beauty!” Rhodey smirked at him, “I think you and Wilson were supposed to have each other’s destinies. That was some impression you were doing.”

Damn him, Damn it all. Of course , Tony would fall asleep right then and there, drooling over his arms in front of James Rhodes . Of course the first time he’d see the precious son of the Alice bloodline—after literal years in different worlds—would be when he’s conked out in front of his dripping mashed potato tray in the flipping Greek castle-teria. Unbelievable, Tony.

And Rhodes— Rhodey —has the literal audacity to sit there with a playful smirk on his face. Sit there in his v-neck— v-neck!!! —map patterned shirt that should make him look like a dork but he doesn’t , and a necklace that dips over his collarbone —and oh stars —his hair .

Tony really should say something, “Uh—Hi, honey bear?” His voice cracks, because of course, it does.

“Hi, Tones,” Rhodey replies with a smile, and it’s dazzling . Tony just might scream.

Everything is muted, he couldn’t tell you if Pepper and Sharon were still talking, if T’challa had left the table or if lunch was even over. It feels like, for a brief moment, there’s only Rhodey.

Rhodey, who’s turning around to address someone else. Tony also looks away, trying to keep his ears from burning up and turning red.

“Tony, were you drawing in your mash potatoes?” Rhodey looks over, pressing slightly against Tony to peer over at his tray.

Which prompts Tony to dart out and pull the tray towards him with a, “Nooooo?”

Rhodes looks back at him, raising an eyebrow, “Really?”

“Maybe~?”

That prompted a laugh out of him, gaining the attention of Pepper sitting a bit away from them. “Oh, Tony’s still doing that? I thought that was only a Wonderland thing.”

“Hey!” Tony wrinkled his nose and glared at her, silently grateful at the fact that pulled him out of mentally gaping like a fish at his best friend—are they even best friends anymore? Rhodey probably has like a billion of them at SHIELD. “I can do it anywhere. It’s called art.”

“You wouldn’t know art if it slapped you in the face.”

Tony opened his mouth, literally about to say, ‘I mean if Rhodey slapped me in the face I would say he’s art.’ before he’s stopped by the one jellybean of a brain cell in the back of his mind.

Well that and Rhodey’s “If anyone can bring wonder with them to SHIELD, it would be Tony.”

Which, oKAY , Tony needs to stop exploding inwardly and actually say something, “Um, speaking of wonder, does anyone know anything about that one well myth?”

“The well of wonder?” Sharon asked, polling her hand from her mouth where she was probably stifling giggles, which rude, ok.

T’challa also answered, “I believe I might be of help. Why are you asking Tony?”

Tony darted a look at Rhodey—he can’t see his face because he’s looking at T’challa, but he swears that under the table his fist clenches. Weird—before looking at T’challa, “It’s a surprise,” He winked.

And it was! But for Rhodey. He was supposed to have it done pre-meeting him at lunch, but thanks to Hammer he missed his mental deadlines. It wasn’t like he had sought out Natasha Romanoff beforehand to ask about James’ schedule so he could know when they had lunch together or anything, absolutely not.

See—back when in Wonderland—, Tony and Rhodey would galavant about, exploring the lands and falling down many rabbit holes, quite literally. Tony remembers how in his workshop, Rhodey would always love seeing Tony design the swords and spears for the Wonderland card-guards—the Dora Milaje. However what Tony specialized in was watch-making, specifically enchanted watches. Watches with personality, with faces that weren’t just hands and numbers or mini mirror-pods, but near people like. Pixel-faires born of Tony’s creation. DUM-E was his first.

‘You’ was meant for Rhodey, he’d been making them ever since he heard he was chosen for the second era of exchange students. It really shouldn’t have taken so long, but without the wonder of Wonderland and his workshop, it was harder.

So when he heard about the well of wonder, the last remain flow between the two worlds, he knew he had to find it. Too bad it disappeared every night, popping up all over Ever After.

“It would be best to go with someone Tony,” Sharon said, “The well likes to frequent the forest.”

“I could go with you!” Rhodey exclaimed, well not exclaimed, that was just Tony projecting. Mostly... Maybe? No, probably.

“Really?” Tony asked, “You don’t—?”

“It’s my free period anyway," Rhodey shrugged, “Besides you’re already using my jacket, so now you can wear it in the forest too!”

“I—” Tony looks back at the table, and oh.

Oh , that’s what he was sleeping on.

T’challa mentioned stopping by their—his and Rhodey’s—dorm so they can get directions. There’s more regaling of the well, and mentions of seeing Bruce Banner and Thor frequenting the area, which ooo? But all Tony really remembers is seeing Rhodey reaching over, draping his jacket over Tony’s shoulder.

“It’s a date,” Rhodey grinned with a dazzling smile.

~FIN~

So do you like who is who? I didn't recast everyone, but I might continue this AU so maybe I will later down the line! Please let me know what you think in the comments and leave a kudo too! Love you all!!!

#tony stark #tony stark fic #ironhusbands #ironhusbands fic #tonyrhodey #tonyrhodey fic #tony stark x james rhodes #james rhodey rhodes #james rhodes #fanfiction #marvel/ever after high fusion #ever after high #marvel #mcu #vix writes #my writing #long lost #link post

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mediaevalmusereads · 4 years ago

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Sweet Disorder. By Rose Lerner. Self-Published, 2014.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Lively St. Lemeston #1

Summary: Prickly newspaperman’s widow Phoebe Sparks has vowed never to marry again. Unfortunately, the election in Lively St. Lemeston is hotly contested, and the little town’s charter gives Phoebe the right to make her husband a voter—if she had one.

The Honorable Nicholas Dymond has vowed never to get involved in his family's aristocratic politicking. But now his army career is over for good, his leg and his self-confidence both shattered in the war. Helping his little brother win an election could be just what the doctor ordered. So Nick decamps to the country, under strict orders to marry Phoebe off to somebody before the polls open. He’s intrigued by the lovely widow from the moment she shuts the door in his face. Phoebe is determined not to be persuaded by the handsome earl’s son, no matter how charming he is. But when disaster strikes her young sister, she is forced to consider selling her vote—and her hand—to the highest bidder. As election intrigue grows, Phoebe and Nick are brought face to face with their own deepest desires and forced to decide which vows are worth keeping, and which must be broken...

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: sexual content, fat shaming, teen pregnancy, anti-Semitism, allusions to war and miscarriage

Overview: I came across this book while searching for recommendations. I had just finished Netflix’s Bridgerton, and I wasn’t keen on reading the books on account of the reported rape scene. Luckily, romance tumblr had some alternatives, so I gave this book a chance. Overall, I found Sweet Disorder to be a pleasant surprise. Not only do we have a fat heroine who is honest about her body issues as well as about what she wants from her lover, but we also have a political drama with a lot of carefully plotted threads that I was eager to read. The main thing holding me back from giving this a full 5 stars was pacing; I feel like, for a romance novel, the pace should have been a little faster in the middle and not as fast at the end. But other than that, I think I can safely say that this is one of the better romances I’ve read so far this year, and I’m comfortable calling it a feminist one.

Writing: Lerner’s prose is well-balanced and straight-forward, alternating between showing and telling at appropriate moments while also being easy to digest. I don’t think there’s much that sets it apart from what one might expect out of a romance novel, but that’s not a knock against Lerner. I think she writes for her audience, and the prose does its job. I had no problems following the plot and I never struggled to imagine what was going on.

One thing I do care to single out, however, is Lerner’s intertextuality. I feel like I’ve read a lot of romances where I’m told that the heroine (or hero) is bookish, but all that means is that she (or he) is disorganized and surrounded by papers and ink. Lerner, by contrast, has her characters quote poetry to one another - and not just one kind! There are quotes from Byron, Wordsworth, Blake, and others, in addition to allusions to Shakespeare and moral tales. The written word seeped into the way Nick and Phoebe thought and acted, and I truly felt that Lerner’s characters had a love of literature.

Plot: Sweet Disorder primarily follows our heroine, Phoebe, as she tries to decide whether she wants to marry a Tory or a Whig. That sounds fairly simplistic, but the politics are way more complicated. As a widow, Phoebe has the power to make her new husband a freeman, so her decision not only enfranchises a voter, but potentially decides which party gets the seat.

I honestly found the politics to be quite interesting, and the drama surrounding Phoebe’s decision felt real and personal. On the one hand, Phoebe has supported the Whigs for years, but the man the Whigs want her to marry isn’t quite her type. They share the same political views, and he’s kind and hard-working, but he and Phoebe don’t share any interests. On the other hand, she gets along with the Tory on a personal level, but he makes some comments that show Phoebe she could never get along with him politically.

My only qualms with this plot is that I don’t think Lerner did enough to condemn the anti-Semitism and elitist attitude of the Tories (or at least make it a significant point of tension in Phoebe’s decision-making process). Sometimes, I felt that the parties were presented as more or less interchangeable, and while some characters call out the Tories for their political bullshit (such as when Nick tells off a candidate for his party not sending adequate supplies to the troops in favor of lining their own pockets), I don’t think the eventual “both sides are bad in some ways, both sides are good in others” message was a good one. To solve the problem, I think Phoebe should have wrestled more with the idea that marrying a Tory would raise her out of poverty. That way, there could have been a moral conflict that Phoebe has to overcome, and other characters (such as Mr. Gilchrist and Mr. Jessop) could have had some growth by seeing how the Tories made them prejudiced against poor people.

In terms of how the plot was delivered, I think the pace was a little laggy in the middle and a little too rushed at the end. While I appreciated Lerner taking her time to show us how Phoebe interacts with characters (so we get to know them as she does), I also think the middle could have been sped up so there was more room to explore complicated emotions towards the end. After all the political and personal drama goes down, Phoebe and Nick have to redefine their relationship to each other, and Nick, in particular, has to consider what his relationship is to his family. While I think the complexity builds just fine throughout the novel, and things come to a head in a most spectacular fashion, I also think problems get solved way too quickly. I would have liked to see Phoebe and Nick explore their feelings in more depth while actually working out their problems in a way that mirrors the pace of the rest of the novel.

Characters: Phoebe, our heroine, is a widow who writes children’s tales to get by. She’s poor, but not destitute, and most of her personal arc involves reconciling what she wants for herself and what she’s willing to do for others. I really liked that she was open and honest about what she wanted, but saw that sometimes, her wants should take a backseat to others’. This isn’t to say Lerner uses Phoebe to show how women should be uniformly selfless; rather, Phoebe’s journey shows that sometimes, she should listen to the people around her (like her sister) and sometimes, she should put her foot down (as with her mother). I also liked that Phoebe was described as curvy or fat and part of her character arc was about learning to suppress her internal voice, which repeated fatphobic things that her mother would say to her growing up. It was honestly refreshing not to read about another stick skinny heroine, and I appreciated that Phoebe’s body image was part of her character, but not her defining feature. Of course, I will defer to others who are more knowledge about fat representation in literature, so if there’s anything I’m not seeing, please listed to others with more knowledge than me.

Nick, our hero, is a war veteran who is cajoled into going to Lively St. Lemeston to help his brother, Tony, win his campaign. Nick is a bit of a recluse on account of his limp, and he isn’t all that interested in politics because his mother made it the center of her life (rather than her family). I really liked that Nick’s arc was about prioritizing his own wants without making him appear selfish. Nick’s major flaw is that that he too deferential to others; he acts in ways that will make social interactions more smooth rather than out of personal conviction. In meeting Phoebe, he is challenged to be honest with her, as she can tell when he’s being sincere and when he’s putting on a mask. I also appreciated that Lerner didn’t make his appear inconsequential. The chronic pain made moving difficult at times, and Nick didn’t exhibit any superhuman strength that allowed him to overcome his disability. It made his condition feel real and present, so to speak, rather than a “sexy scar” or some similar trope. But like with Phoebe’s character, I’ll defer to reviewers who know more about disability representation.

Side characters were surprisingly well-rounded and interesting. Mr. Moon, the Whig that Phoebe considers marrying, is a confectioner who is always eager to please. I liked that he was presented as poor but not stupid, as well as being kind despite not sharing any interests with Phoebe. I think too often incompatibility is represented by serious flaws in a person (such as fighting or sexism) rather than simply not enjoying the same things. Mr. Fairclough, the Tory that Phoebe considers marrying, is also complex in that he is kind and easy-going so long as the subject as politics doesn’t come up. I liked the idea of Fairclough, though I do wish Lerner had given him more flack for his anti-Semitism.

Helen, Phoebe’s teenaged sister, was a good counterpart to Phoebe in that she was conventionally pretty and interested in fashion, whereas Phoebe was not. I loved that they faced challenges together with mixed success: Helen trusts Phoebe enough to seek her help when she finds out she’s pregnant, but not enough to tell her who the father is. I really liked that the two butt heads once in a while, but not in a way that threatened their relationship - just enough to make it feel real and dynamic. Making Phoebe’s children’s tale mirror Helen’s plight was also a good choice, as it allowed for some interiority to shine through.

The mothers in this story were perhaps the biggest surprise. Phoebe’s mother, Mrs. Knight, is extremely strict and isn’t afraid to openly criticize her daughters for their weight, their behavior, etc. Nick’s mother, Lady Tassell, also holds her sons to high standards, but doesn’t openly criticize them as much as she lets her disappointment affect their feelings of self-worth. Lady Tassell prioritizes politics over her family, which makes for a more interesting picture of a “bad mother” and contrasts with Mrs. Knight rather well.

My only complaints about characters are that I wish Mr. Gilchrist (the Tory scout) and Tony (Nick’s brother and Whig candidate) were a little more well-developed and that Jack and Caroline’s arc were a little more purposeful. Mr. Gilchrist is a fine supporting character and wouldn’t need much more development if he had solely been there to pressure Phoebe into marrying Fairclough. But because he gets involved with Helen, I think more should have been done with the politics so it doesn’t appear as if “love transcends political divides.” The same can be said of Jack and Caroline. Jack is Phoebe’s brother-in-law while Caroline is the daughter of a Tory candidate. They have a romance that also feels like “love transcends political divides,” and as I mentioned above, I don’t think portraying both sides as equal or interchangeable was a compelling choice. Of course, I don’t think portraying the Whigs as perfect would have been good either; I rather liked that Tony’s plot was about how very not-perfect he was, but I wanted characters to wrestle a bit more with that complexity.

Romance: Despite loving Phoebe and Nick separately as characters, their romance felt more like the formation of a close friendship to me. I liked that the two shared emotional intimacy and vulnerability to each other, and that their personal struggles mirrored one another’s so well - I just think that the turn from friendship to romance wasn’t all that convincing. Perhaps it’s because the plot of this book takes place over two (or three?) weeks, and I’m skeptical of characters who declare their love in so short a time. But that’s a personal preference on my part. To fix this problem (at least, for me), I would have liked to see more plot happen after the election, when Phoebe and Nick have to work out their feelings for one another. Extending the timeline would have done much, even though it would have made the book longer.

TL;DR: Sweet Disorder is a pleasant surprise of a romance novel, offering complex characters and a political plot that thrives off of realistic drama. Despite my misgivings about pacing, much of Sweet Disorder is satisfying in so many ways, from fat representation to its intertextuality, and I would recommend it to readers looking for an alternative to Bridgerton.

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sereisstuff · 5 years ago

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𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝟿

Demon!Taehyung x chubby reader

Summary of the tale - Taehyung has banter with his mother and Jungkook finds his way of friendship with you. How will Taehyung react? Warnings - none

(It’s been like what? two, three months? I’m not gonna lie and say I’ve been busy cause I haven’t I’m just gonna say I lost slight hope for this series and many of my others. I may stick to request and one shots now but I still have a passion for this particular one)

“How are you holding up, my dear” lunar spoke with the utmost care, her soft hands gripping the mug you gifted her. “I understand that my presence may come as a shock to you but I assure you I’m not here to be causing any ruckus” she proceeded with caution, you watched her smile. Gleaming in assurance.

“Did I do something wrong?” was your first question, from the information you were able to witness she was a witch, a woman of many talents and although it may not be the best to assume peoples talents you guessed she had somewhat a visionary mind. Lunar giggled wholeheartedly “No, I was just making sure you were doing fine with the potion, I have another gift for your journey. I was going to come much earlier but my partner made sure I knew your young demon was coming to bring you a gift of his own” she explained wafting the air with the trinkle of her finger.

“Oh, he’s not mine” you blushed profusely, grimacing towards your choice of words. Maybe she didn’t mean it in that way and you were skipping to conclusions. Lunar release yet another strong laugh, her curls bouncing with every long hearty giggle she took, her obsidian orbs rested on your face with her laughter halting with an air of exasperation “That’s where your utterly wrong my dear, I’ve known the young demon for many years. He may claim you as his own but he was yours long before that”

You gulped hearing those words, your mind filling with quizzical questions hoisting off from your chair to sit closer towards the edge “what do you mean?” you questioned curiously, the grip you held on the chair contoured your fingers. Lunar coughed taking a sip of her drink elegantly and your gaze fell to the floor in question “Jimin prophesied something similar when he came over, do you think it could be true. I know you have the answers” I spoke clearly.

Luna's bright gleam dropped, her eyes narrowing as you rambled. She did in fact have the answers to even your deepest questions “The son of Aphrodite was here?” her tone seemed oddly venomous as if she ridiculed his very presence with a burning hatred. Her question was yet to be confirmed making her release a heavy sigh.

You nodded your head warily “he was” came your short response watching the witches reaction “I’m sorry dear, I just don’t have much of a liking for the young demigod. To answer your question I cannot say, my ability to answer such a question is a curse of mine I should forever live with” she informed sadly and you empathized with her feeling oddly placed in this entire situation.

“I’m sorry” you apologized.

“No need my dear, I wanted to gift you this-” she held out a majestic necklace with a heart locket. Her hands held it gently as you frowned but smiled at the gift “that looks expensive, why me” She seemed to know the answer but kept her mouth closed “I hope this brings your young demon his own answers” she mumbled before patting your head as she placed the mug on the small coffee table resting neatly.

“Was this Taehyungs?” you shouted as she started leaving the home, her long strides took her to the end of the drive as she turned around “it was and is yours, young one” she shouted back before dispersing through thin air making you grumble incoherent words under your breath “it was? Am I just meant to guess that”

You walked around the home with small steps, carelessly caressing the edges of the home with an intensive stare residing within your eyes before a certain gleam caught your sight. It was a small crack in the ground. The same hole Taehyung created when Jungkook dimwittedly marked you with his own mark of Poseidon, his anger could still be felt and he was never going to be pleased with his cousin.

The entire space felt different, noticing days even weeks had gone past which you’d spent with the young demon hand in hand. That not even your home felt the embrace of you yet still cold and lacking the homely comfort it once had, so you grabbed the remote and choose a movie on Netflix while you began cleaning.

………………………………

“Your father seems to be interested in this girl” Taehyungs mother spoke venomously, her seducing figure coated with a tight corseted dress. The glimmering crown resting upon her thick locks of luscious hair could catch the attention of people standing miles away. “But I’m not” she ended with a rippling growl, Taehyung looked at his mother boredly.

“So tell me son, what god dare’s to have such a child?” she asked softly, her long manicured fingers caressing his clothed shoulder. Taehyung could feel a sense of anger pooling in his stomach as he adjusted his spot, “is that your business?” he retaliated with a daring glance, his mother’s slim slits narrowed towards him.

“You’re my son, I have somewhat a right to know your future wife. See if she’s eligible for my title” His mother gripped his shoulder with an intense rub, rolling his shoulders as she dug her sharp venomous nails into him. Taehyung stood abruptly, glancing down at his spilt wine as he hissed out his answer “She’s much more eligible then you ever were”

His mother laughed in mockery, hands resting on her filtered hips with a saddened pout “Don’t be such a bully son, I’m sure she’s a wonderful girl. If I find out that she isn’t how you portray her then Cerberus it is for her” his mother claimed awfully, Cerberus was their hell hound. They often fed it the spirits of the dead and this claim brought an relinquished fire to his mind.

Taehyungs hands fired up in rage and his breathing leveled in anger “I’m sure she will be a good meal, I recall you saying she had a plump figure to your father. Maybe it’ll take two of our hell hounds to down such a being” she pressed further with a hysteric laugh, her leisured steps clanked against the polished floor of the castle’s ballroom.

“If you ever touch her in a way that harms a single hair on her body, I’ll feed you to Cerberus myself” Taehyungs demon fired in rage as his height grew and his black horns stretch through his messy locks. His black wings snapped harshly from his toned back with a ridiculing pair of sharp canines growing “Now, now little one. I was just messing around with you” She giggled confidently, rolling her eyes framed with heavy thick lashes and a set of black shadow “Taehyung! What are you doing?” His father shouted, slicking his hair back with his dirty hands.

Taehyungs mother desperately released tears, her hands clamming together “He was going to hurt me” she cried, Hades looked to his woman boredly already growing tired with her antics once more “Yoon, leave him alone.” he demanded deeply, Yoon halted her steps with a slight tsk in her tone as she stomped the other way stealing a drink from one of the maids standing nearby as she witnessed the overprotective sense of the young demon.

“Did you give her the dress? How did she react?” his father asked excitedly, his canines showing slightly as his smile widened with a slight hopeful gleam in his wide eyes, Taehyung bit his lip peering down at his father “She loved it” came his reply. Taehyung ran a hand through his shining hair with a sigh “Listen, yoon will not touch her. I understand her past reactions to threats but I assure you I want to make this as good as I can. It’s not every day I meet someone my son fancies”

Hades wasn’t all too bad. He was a rather kind man with devilish traits, most worried more for the woman at his side for she was the threatening one and dare you ever pass her. Death is your only answer to her petty tantrums “I’ll kill her before she even gets the chance” Taehyung growled, Hades was taken aback with his son’s tone.

A smile graced his lips as he pets his son’s shoulders “We’ll see, now. Clear out so the maids can shimmer this place up, you have deals to attend.”

………………………………………………………

“You have got to be shitting me, you don’t like banana milk” Jungkook gasped dramatically, you thought since he was the only demigod you knew you paid him a small visit, although it was hard to reach him you polled your legs into the scary tides of his ocean, hands shaking in fear before you were pulled back by a pair of strong hands.

“You’re such a dumb ass” He growled sincerely, and that’s how you found yourself at a food shack. Jungkook was lying on one of the chairs, he knew the owners and surprisingly they knew of his title being of that world themselves “No, I’m sorry but it’s too sweet” you laughed upon his disgusted glare.

“I can’t believe you, come on. Try it” You shook your head a bit, Jungkook was laughing at your reaction. Noticing the necklace resting on your chest “Did Tae give that to you?” he asked, leaning forward to inspect the silvery chain and pendant, his hot breath meeting your chest as you jolted away accidentally grabbing his head on your way from the chair.

“Oh, my gosh, I’m so sorry” you apologized, Jungkook rubbed his head sorely, the owners giggled pointing your way “first your try drowning yourself then you smack me against the table, way to say thank you” He grumbled sassily under his breath.

Your over sized jacket was stained by his banana milk, “I still hate it though” I grumbled back glaring up at him with a restrained smile “It’s okay banana milk, don’t listen to her” he cooed dreamily towards the small carton of yellow substance. You snarled at him with a hiss “why do you think he gave it to me?” you asked, you seemed to be asking people a lot these days and if this was how it was going to be every minute you wanted out.

“He has one similar to that” Jungkook replied staring intensively behind you, his reply caught you off guard taking a quick glance to your necklace. It was old fashioned but big enough to fit a photo in there. Shaking off the obvious curiosity you followed his gaze “who’s that?” you voiced a little too loudly earning a hiss of disappointment and a callous smack from Jungkook.

The woman he rested his eyes on was beautiful, a little older then most here but she had youthful skin “My mom” He muttered sadly, you snapped your head his way watching his saddened face “we don’t speak of her, she has amnesia. My father always told me she hit her head on a rock and it was for the best but we all know he made her forget” Jungkook expressed taking a long sip from his drink.

“I see where you get your looks from” Jungkook rolled his eyes “Yeah, well at least I don’t look like a fish” you burst out into laughter taking one last look at the woman, her long brunette hair reached her bottom with a pair of brown flashy eyes. She was short and petite so he obviously inherited his height from his father and strength must just be a plus for all the demigods.

She seemed familiar in a sense of comfort, but you shook it off as interest.

“A fish?” you piqued in curiosity, Jungkook replied “It’s not unfamiliar to anyone but my dad has had many children I’m still not aware of but one of them I do is. Well, she kinda turned out like a fish” He seemed to hate the girl but he was content with his suppressed answer.

“You would still be cute with a fin and tail, admit it. You secretly want one” I snapped, barking in laughter “me, never” He sarcastically replied, “You should get going, one thing I know about my uncle is that he doesn’t like people who aren’t punctual.” Jungkook expressed, you nodded standing from your place as you gave him a tight hug “Thanks, I needed your company.” I said Jungkook was wide in shock hearing that. His hands slowly making their way around my shoulders with a hesitant embrace.

“Wait” He shouted, I stopped in my tracks pivoting to face him. He pulled out a spray from his bag before coating me in the toxic substance “if my cousin smells me on you then your in for one hell of a shit storm and that won’t even be the worst. Even though he can’t cross the water he’ll surely find a way to strangle me” Jungkook expressed with worry laced in his tone.

“C’mon he can’t be that bad” you laughed only for Jungkook to peek at you from beneath his brown locks with a disaster look in his eyes “oh” you muttered letting his toxicities embrace every inch of your body.

“Now, so long” he pushed you towards the door with a sarcastic wave, you flipped him off only to receive a strong push of his lips.

You just hoped the perfume worked…..

.................................

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deviationdivine · 6 years ago

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☼ Connor | Headcanons ☼

A/N: Headcanons for Connor (both deviant & machine) I personally feel, as well as some ones for my writing. Wanted to work on something light while focusing on wips especially for the reader/follower poll. Have this for today’s drabble queue! I will do RK800-60 & Nines as well. But first - can I get an amen?!

TW: Language, Smut (I had to go there!)

Deviant!Connor

Following the revolution Connor most likely will be dealing with his newfound freedom and sense of self worth. While he is free from Cyberlife control it still does not alleviate him of doubts especially when it comes to how other androids view him.

Feels a sense of guilt for hunting so many of his people before deviating despite Markus trusting him after the fall of Jericho. He has a sense of obligation to offer support to the RK200 if it’s needed as a sort of personal repentance.

Attempts to blend into society better but still feels a bit shunned by humans and androids alike. This is a personal hurdle he must conquer.

Afraid of dying in the full sense but keeps these fluctuating emotions inside. Often needs to validate himself otherwise.

Fears being taken control of again even if he used Kamski’s emergency exit. Amanda is an internal nightmare to him now.

Obviously remains working in tandem with Hank at the DPD. He’s a prototype android detective who gets his skills put to use in an official capacity.

Remains close with Hank in a familial capacity. Android son confirmed. Stays with the lieutenant until finding his own place in society. This will take some equal laws being passed first.

Uses more colorful language at times. Hank has rubbed off on him.

“Fuck...shit.”

“What the fuck did you say, Connor?!”

Really wants his own dog....maybe two. Or three.

He’ll wind up stealing Sumo.

Finds various species of fish pleasant to study on down time at work. There hardly is any down time for him though.

Hank makes him have down time. He works too fucking much.

Hones skills in both the programming field he was originally built and his emotional responses.

While deviant he still struggles with what he’s feeling. It’s a learning process but the android gets better at it.

Surprisingly has gained more support from coworkers. This doesn’t include Gavin but as Hank says, “fuck Gavin.” Honestly, Gavin doesn’t work here anymore. Bye bitch.

Picks up the emotions of others with more clarity than his original programming. Deviancy allots him better understanding and heightens his skills in a way.

Still very adept at combat and will take out an entire group of thugs on a case if need be. Is a soft deviant boy who can go John Wick in two seconds flat.

Has a few decorated awards under his belt for breaking open some tough cases including a huge red ice ring.

Hank is fucking proud but won’t admit it. Connor isn’t as naive as he was though, he can tell:

“Why thank you, Lieutenant. I did take them out impeccably as you would say.”

“Since when do I say fucking impeccably?”

Relationships

Understanding all of these new emotions means coming to terms with other things he’s feeling. Friendships are a bit easier if stilted at the start.

Social programs aside, Connor finds a genuine appreciation of the people around him especially those who support him.

Hank is always his biggest supporter now...obviously.

Finding himself in the company of others because they genuinely want him there is awkward initially. Gradually he develops a natural affinity for this.

Connor in love...?

Love is new. It’s strange. It can make his entire brain whir. Honestly doesn’t know how to cope when experiencing the first threads of it in his system.

Is a soft boy ready to discover what it truly means. He witnessed this between Markus and North end of the revolution after all.

Finds himself capable of the same as it hits him all at once.

You make him overheat but in a pleasant way. Oh, is that genuine arousal?

He is highly advanced so of course he was designed with the proper parts. Their origin was for more nefarious means built for Cyberlife missions but now it hardly matters. He has total control over his body.

An awkward badass. I mean he can kill you with a lopsided smile and wink and also kill a whole room full of bad guys. What’s not to like?

Truly wants to experience this whole new side of humanity with you and no one else but you. Connor finds being in love an epiphany. He feels more human with it. He feels more human with you.

Confident when you express affection to him even if he is an android. Makes him feel even more accepted and sure of himself.

Eases into things until he can no longer metaphorically breathe. That’s when everything snaps and he knows.

This android is in love.

Machine!Connor

Completely opposite of his deviant persona, Connor as a machine does not feel emotion for anything let alone anyone who stands in his path. All about accomplishing his mission no matter the casualties. This includes any allies he obtained from the DPD during his deviant investigations.

Will throw Hank off a rooftop if it’ll get him one step closer.

You can’t kill him...androids don’t die.

Deviants should be eradicated because they’re a clear disease with a virus in their program. He sees this as neither mercy nor punishment. He sees it as a mission to obey for the greater good of humanity.

Follows the side of his creators just as he was programmed to do. However, has no qualms taking out any human who stands in his way. Will mercilessly kill an entire squadron of soldiers if need be without batting an eye.

Only the mission matters... He only answers to Cyberlife.

Not adverse to torture or intimidation. Any tactic will do.

Any sort of software instability towards deviancy is readily pushed down until he does something unbearably ruthless to gain back his purpose of programming.

Machine Connor will not allow Cyberlife to deactivate him after completing his mission.

Amanda has no power over him in that regard. He is his own power.

Will slaughter anyone at the tower who tries to apprehend him for destruction.

While not a push to deviancy, Connor feels his time is not finished. Everything Cyberlife programmed to do he accomplished successfully. Discarding him is their greatest mistake.

He will destroy any supposed superior model before taking his place. No. This does NOT make him deviant.

Unstoppable killing machine? Definitely makes him that.

Relationships

Machine Connor uses connections to benefit him. If it will help the mission he will be whatever you want him to be.

This includes gaining favor with other humans around him. The friendlier he seems the better. Will fake emotions if need be. Hank throws this in his face later during this particular route so it’s natural a machine!Connor would do this around anyone he meets.

Love? I don’t think so. Any love you think he can possess is all a fabrication. If you believe a ruthless machine Connor actually cares then you’d be dead wrong. He cares for nothing, nobody but completing his mission and doing what he was designed to do no questions asked.

However, this does not prevent him using it against you. If you want to follow your weak human emotions and fall in love with a cold machine so be it. He will use and discard you like tissue paper breaking your weak humanity in half along the way.

As an RK800 built to accomplish dangerous missions and outfitted with clever negotiator skills, it makes sense he will have some high end upgrades. If seduction is required he will make use out of his advanced protocols and parts.

After using you he will leave you to perish if you try to stop him afterwards. Romance is not part of the equation.

Sex is an instrument he perfectly mimics as he mimics emotions and friendliness.

If you somehow start to spread the virus of deviancy in his system, Connor will correct it by any means. He will snuff you out if it comes down to it.

On the other hand if you do somehow by a miracle stick to him with your human virus he may deviate. It would have to be a big build up even then because most times it will not happen. He will choose the mission over you every time.

You are a tool. Nothing more, nothing less. There is no fairy tale romance here but the foolish one conjured in your head.

Smut!Connor

Deviant

Connor is all about falling into his emotions. Becoming deviant makes the android want to experience everything that drives this humanity in his system. What better way than to finally share this intimacy with you?

Everything is full, passionate and just for the two of you. No one else is in existence while the two of you are together.

While it takes him a bit to understand the full meaning behind this act it stirs his synthetic heart. It’s obvious how much he wants to share a sole space with you. Being apart of your existence only makes his bloom further in the middle of sex.

He gets off on you tugging his hair. Clawing his back is another turn on as it makes him feel dominant.

As a negotiator android this is good for his programming origins but also his newly found ego. He loves that you want to grip onto him and the tighter it is the better.

Can be slow and methodical if you’re looking for a long night.

However, can be quick and rough if you ask him. There’s still that ruthless core he deviated from. He can easily tap into his more aggressive nature. It’s whatever you want him to be that particular time.

Cautious with you during rougher sex. Connor is aware of his strength and hurting you is never something he would do. This sweet boy would never forgive himself.

Likes to be the dominant partner but doesn’t mind lying back while you take over the reins.

Is all about foreplay especially with his tongue. You thought thirium licking was bad? Connor uses his tongue like a pro and will lap up every last drop between your legs to satisfy his own need. To him you taste indescribable and he wants more of that each time.

Scratch his synthetic skin, use your teeth against his epidermis to mark him as yours just as he marks you as his. While his healing component will ultimately take away any abrasions, Connor enjoys seeing them littering his body before they fade.

Same goes with hickies. He’s a master of placing them in secret places so others cannot see. That doesn’t stop him being a sneaky boy at times. Right on your throat? Just one? How about one on each side?

Loves to hear his name slip quietly from your lips while fucking you softly. Really gets going when you start yelling for him to pound you harder. He obliges...obviously.

Connor’s reactions in the moment are quieter. Groans, deep gasps and utterances of your name as he places kisses all over your face.

Let’s get this straight. This boy likes to kiss. No, he loves to kiss while going at it. As much as he loves having sex, he loves the closeness just as much. It changes things for him. They’re all good changes.

And when you ask to see him without his skin? Oh lord. Does this boy melt from your acceptance. He becomes super vulnerable about it but trusts you like no one else.

Timid having sex without the synthetic epidermis but eases into it after a few times. Genuinely surprised you enjoy it so much. Connor assumed it might be uncomfortable for you.

Actually, you personally love this android’s dick no matter what form it’s in. Whispering that in his ear dangles him on the verge of shutdown. It also gets him to throw you down fast and fuck your brains out for a change of pace. He’s that adaptable for your pleasure needs.

Either way sex with this sweet deviant boy is satisfyingly good.

Machine

Tenderness? It isn’t here.

Seduction programming can be utilized if you push him. He isn’t merciful. He will fuck you as hard as you want as long as you want. Don’t expect it to make him love you.

Pushing his buttons is not a good idea. Falling in love with him is even worse. Machine!Connor will take you out of frustration, asserting his dominance against a weakling who thinks they can get away spreading deviancy in his system.

Raw and animalistic.

Expect a palette of bruises/abrasions over your skin from sucking, biting and finger digging.

Nail marks are a thing. There’s no holding back.

Always dominant. Don’t even question it. Control is a kink to him if he could readily have one. But he doesn’t. He’s a straight up machine.

Will toss your body onto whatever surface is available. Comfortable or not he doesn’t care. Why should he when he’s a machine?

Wants to hear you beg. It means he has you where he wants you. Weakness is the best way to manipulate.

Fucking you from behind is a preferred option. It gives him total authority over your feeble human state.

Will bend you over the table in the interrogation room and fuck you without a care to who watches from the observation room.

Likes to impale fingers inside you and work them until tears collect in your eyes. He will sample the salty liquid on the tip of his tongue claiming another piece of you until he consumes all that’s left.

Never watches his strength.

Most times you wind up sore but he sees that as punishment for trying to turn him away from the mission. After all, he only does what you ask and you did ask for this.

Try to cuddle up and kiss him sweetly it won’t go very well.

Likes to bite your lips until they’re a swollen mess.

Machine Connor will purposely edge your orgasm and leave you whimpering for release. If he is not merciful to those he hunts why should he be merciful to you?

If you attempt to make more of this ‘arrangement’ he will end it right then and there. First, he’ll give you one last vengeful fucking to destroy whatever love you conjured for yourself is left.

If you manage to make him deviate well his routine won’t change much.

The only difference is that he will begin kissing you more during.

He might listen to what you want more but don’t expect a complete 180 overnight

Most likely he will not deviate so it’s pretty much futile to think he’ll love you. Just enjoy the rough fuck from him before he completes his mission because guaranteed they’ll be hardly anything of you left...

Tag List: @elydith

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zach-the-fox · 5 years ago

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My Fair Fur Episode 2: Mage I?

Our fox prince continues on his journey further away from the wretched kingdom under the reign of his father, aided by his new dragon ally alongside him. The two animals exchange information about each other as they travel down the dirt road winding through the forest. Their conversation is brought to an end when Firework ceases and proceeds to sniff the air.

“Oh!” Firework’s mouth starts to salivate. “Firework smell food! Firework hungry!” The dragon speeds off, following his nose.

“Firework, wait!” The fox prince tails him. “Where are you heading? Don’t stray away!” He chases his winged friend through the trees and to a small clearing nearby the path. There, he finds the grey dragon nearing a black pot suspended above a campfire by a hook held up by three long polls in the shape of a cone. A small backpack lays nearby the fire, as well as a long cloth across the soft earth. The fox takes a couple of steps toward the dragon. “Firework, I don’t think we shouldn’t be around… Tis somebody’s camp, for their possessions are about… We mustn’t invade and take what’s not ours.”

Firework turns to Zach, giving him a little pout, drooped ears, and saddened eyes. “But Firework hungry… Firework want breakfast…”

“If you’re stomach rumbles with emptiness, then why not settle for the berries of the forest? Thievery is not noble, nor does leaving a poor camper with nothing to eat. Come forth from there, for we shall find a fitting snack, provided by nature.”

“Awww,” Firework looks back at the pot. “But Firework want whatever in pot… Smell good… Maybe Firework take-” Out from the brush, a zap of lightning hits near the dragon’s feet, causing him to jump away with fear. “Eep!!!”

“Firework!” Zach takes a couple of steps toward the dragon, then stops when he sees him get back up on his feet. “You okay?!”

“Firework fine,” the dragon responds. “Firework not hurt, but Firework surprised! Where lightening come from?”

“That question rattles my mind, too. Perhaps we should leave here and-” Another bolt of lightening strikes near the dragon, causing him to jump once more and stumble onto the ground on his butt. Zach, scared as his grey ally, pulls his sword in defense and raises it. “Me thinks we have a shadow!” A third shot of lightening makes its way toward the fox, but Zach blocks it with his sword, deflecting the electrical stream. Tracing where the bolt had originated, the prince makes out a dark, hooded figure standing in the trees. “There be our attacker!” The hooded figure extends their arm toward him, spitting out a flaming ball at him. “Whoa!” Zach grabs the grey dragon and drags him away quickly before the ball explodes into fire where the two animals were. “Tis a mage!”

“Firework not like!” the dragon says, getting behind the fox. “Firework afraid!”

“We must have courage! I like not this being, but we must try outdoing the trouble-seeker! Take flight, Young Firework! Use thy breath of flame!”

“Firework will try.” Firework flaps his wings and floats above the ground. He then soars in the air, flying around as he dodges the shots fired by the mage. He inhales deeply, then blows fire from his mouth hard, spitting the heat toward the hooded figure. The mage raises their arm to block the attacks with a spawned shield. Distracted by the dragon, the prince makes several leaps forward and swings his blade at the figure. The mage dodges his attempt and makes an effort to block every thrust he makes by conjuring small shields to defend against him. Zach is quick, however, hitting and breaking the shields to further push the robed mage back. One blast from Firework’s mouth hits the ground near the figure, causing them to slip and fall back against the hard ground. As their body is pulled by gravity, the hood covering the mage’s head falls off in the back, revealing a warthog’s face with brown hair and spectacles. Eyelashes streaming from the eyes reveal the warthog to be female in nature. She remains on the ground as the fox points his weapon at her, the tip inches away from her nose. Firework lands beside him as he keeps his sword drawn.

“Seems you underestimated the strength of a fox prince and his dragon ally,” Zach utters. “No more will you bother us.”

“I have no coin to spare,” the mage tells him. “Thy mission of thievery is none but moot. You will find nothing of value here.”

“Thievery?” repeats Zach, lowering his sword. “Thou thinks we here to rob? Don’t be so silly. We come not to rob, for we are much higher than those who claim themselves the title of thieves. We are nothing more than travelers, as you would put.” He slides his sword back into his sheath and offers his paw to the girl. “Stand, Mighty Mage!” The warthog glances at his paw, then back at the prince. “I promise I hurt not. I am a prince; honest, and humble. Thou can trust me.”

Taking a chance, the warthog grabs Zach’s paw, and with his aid, she pulls herself up. “Thou have not lied. Thou truly are a prince, proven by your modest being if not by your crown. Why a prince roam the wilds, must I ask?”

“To distance himself from a bitter rival,” Zach answers. “That being the king of the kingdom of my species.”

“The fox king? Yes! I’ve heard many tales of he; the worst king of the entire lands. His reign brings terror to all those who he deems as his foes. I find surprise that his prince stands before me. He not treat thou well?”

“No… My father has made me his enemy through negligence… He hath no care or love to pass unto me, nor knowledge to better prepare me when I wear his crown… He sees me as a waste, and states he wishes not to have me…”

The mage sighs. “My experience is much like yours, for I have my own history with my stepfather. After my real father’s untimely demise, my mother remarried. A while after, my mother became ill, so I took up studying magic and spells to help her, but then he, my stepfather, told me it’s a waste.” Tears form within her eyes and stream down her cheeks. “He insisted I give it up and insisted on dolling me up and giving me away to some “lucky” knight. So, mother and I ran away…”

“Warthog girl alone?” asks Firework. She nods. “Firework understand. Firework feel same way.”

“Aye,” Zach utters. He places a paw on her shoulder, causing her to turn to him. “Why not travel with us? If friends are of that you need, then friends we shall be.”

The girl wipes her hoof across her eyes, clearing them of the tears that remain. “Y-you would allow it?” Zach forms a smile and nods. “Thou is so kind. You truly do possess the heart of a prince. What is thy name?”

“Zach,” he responds. “Prince Zach of Fox Kingdom. Accompanying me is Firework.”

“Emmy is my label,” the warthog says. “What is thy mission, if not thievery?”

“To travel further away from the wretched kingdom holding my father, and settling with a better life more fit for I. Our journey has ceased for now from Firework’s empty stomach.”

Firework giggles. “Firework hungry… Firework can’t resist food.”

“Of course!” Emmy walks passed the two animals and up to the cook pot. She steps aside. “Will you both accompany me? I shall serve rations fit to fill thy eating sacks.” The fox and dragon do as she says, joining her by the fire and collecting the food from which she delivers. “What shall be our new objective as allies?”

“I am uncertain of long-term goals,” the fox speaks. “But short-term, I must distance myself from my father first.”

“Shall we stop somewhere on our travels?” asks Emmy. “That is in the hopes you and your dragon pet do not mind in the slightest.”

“Do as you must. We have made an alliance, and we shall stick by it.” The three smile and proceed on eating at the camp.

***

Back in Fox Kingdom, the king sits upon his throne as a rottweiler stands in front of him. The dog, dressed in a black hooded robe over royal blue underclothes with gloves and shoes of the robe’s colors, remains still like a statue observing its viewer. Although a female, her body is incredibly-well built for stealth and combat. “The fox prince has vanished from the kingdom,” the fox king utters. “In my eyes, he has betrayed me. You are tasked with finding him. I care not how you do it, but if thou captures him alive, allow me to painfully teach him what happens when you abandon your king. I am told you were the best in all the land, and I expect you to do thy bidding well. If thou completes the task, rewarded you will be. Now, off you go!” He dismisses the dog.

@emmy-the-absolute-goof @sally-the-pack-leader

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glopratchet · 4 years ago

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In the world to come there is little sin. The only thing that can be forgiven is death. The next day you are summoned by a young woman who introduces herself as Ligru, and says she has been sent here to find you. She tells you that she was once a soldier in the Empire's army but eventually decided to leave when it became apparent that they were no longer fighting for anything other than their own survival. There are just lots of american alligators. After the election of the first ungendered president, the prediatrain movement caught fire in america. thanks to the new government's decision to lower birth restrictions, the population grew large enough to become self reliant. soon, the growing nation began asserting it's independence and started demanding it's own ecosystem. something which the rest of world found pointless as there was simply too much desert and ice to support life. as more and more americans died attempting to colonize arctic and desert land, the people demanded their government do more than it was doing. The demand for american alligator meat skyrocketed. Whorals where burned to ash while polled hereford heifors fetched over a billion dollars a head in auction to the highest, well heeled, bidder. by 2078 cattle were nearly extinct, considered a parallel to the dodo, and american alligator became the king of meats. godzilla species of american alligtors became the new 'black market ticket'. soon quides for how to capture and train your own hiding in buku volumes became popular. Googizon won the bid to construct for the military the most forward thinking alligator farm in existance. taking the abandoned super maximum security prison to the south, they put together a massive solar panel farm and with the plunging birthrates employee numbers dropped to a minimum. only guards, scientists, engineers and caretakers remain. once a trial is complete, all test subjects are executed, useful data is retrieved for reuse purposes, then biological matter is recycled. It currently floats near the okeenokee snow swamp. While the surrounding swamp and nearby everglades have become flooded with quides on how to train these feral beasts this has interfered not at all with Googizon's work. they also produce their own "commons sense" book advising people that alligators aren't playthings, giving hundreds of helpful tips on how to avoid being lunch, and warning the inevitably stupid or ignorant people who ignore their prodding that the penalty for doing so is death. This is not that story. This is the story of a shadow incursion. They were probably tipped off by somebody close to the top who pulled their strings accordingly. they got every single alligator out, back to the farmn, before Googizon security managed to salvage anything from their six month long investment. Now they're coming to find out how and why this happened. We are primal ponds inc. a company specializing in the construction and maintenance of solar farms. It is a thankless job that includes far too much time spent clear cutting, drying, and burning forests to make fields of solar panels. we do not particularly care what or who we destroy as long as the money is good. The truck is attacked before we even get a quarter mile down the road. A small mom and pop alligator farm attemping to make it. Little do they know their few measly ponds are nothing compared to the magnificence of Googizon. So incovenient of them to get in our way, but then they should have thought of that before defying the king right? Even with all nine tires shredded the truck easily outruns them on the open road, disreguarding the inconspicousness sugguested we ignore side roads entirely, driving down the middle of them. We need you to make deliveries for us. these packages need to arrive at their destination before dawn, crashing the truck and delaying our chances of completing the mission for even a second is not acceptable. he said, handing me nine memory cards. they're marked with an identifying symbol and code number so you can tell me which one is which later. The first card seems to contain mostly images of alligator farms in florida. Please... kill them all... sever the head... Burn the corpse... salt the fields... He does not know he is dealing with a storyteller. I remember these. this is where I got my idea. I finish the rest quickly then start again, lingering on each as I incorporate it into my tale. soon I will know everything about all of their prey, and with that I can predict all of their moves. I had almost forgotten that was my plan in the first place. Point of view of the player: you stand in front of the cave you grew up in, your patrol bag slung over your shoulder as you look over the dying fire towards the bundle of fur curled up in the entrance. your future uncertain. nobody writes stories about the Tulans, it's a very different world out there. your mentor has already headed out, so there's no more hesistation. you get up and walk past her, giving her a nudge with your foot to wake her up. she gets up immediately, and moves aside for you to continue on your way. "You'll going to do great things kid, I just know it." Cyrus says. "I'll try." you answer, unwilling to commit to grand speeches about your future. Cyrus didn't raise you for thirteen years to expect anything less then genuine modesty. your mentor laughs before he gives you his last advice. "don't forget to raise the bridges when you come back, and stick to the roads kid." you nod, already becoming tired of hearing about the old legend mentioned by any nomads passing through, who all seem to think it's worth a laugh to scare the new kids with it. letting the tent flap close behind you, you take one last look at Cyrus who blows you a goodbye kiss. "Don't forget, raise the bridge when you come back." he reminds you. you laugh, and begin rolling out down the path. after half an hour of walking, you reach a wooden structure connecting two stone pillars across the road. on one side, there is a very narrow track sloping up the hillside, rocks piled up awkwardly on either side. from this side, there's the bed of a dry creek bed, the rocky ground already disturbed and leveled off. a sign hanging from one of the pillars shows the name of the settlement this road leads to; Tulan Borderpoint. you walk over to the other side, noticing a long path down to a small rocky beach on one side and a steep hillside covered in a thick growth of trees on the other. it's growing tiresome to have to remember miniscule details, but you know your future is rests on them, so you focus hard and take note of everything around you. there are two figures by the beach off to the side of the path. they're too far to see clearly, but you think they wore bright clothing. remembering Cyrus' advice, and your own vow, you tell yourself stories to strengthen your mind and calm yourself before raising the bridge. it's good that you do, as you find the mechanism is incredibly stiff. screwing up your face in effort, you manage to get it to move, and it slams up against the pillar with a resounding thud. unsure if it would hold you if you were on horseback or with a carriage, you hurriedly remove planks toHillary them under the front wheels of any vehicles, regardless of whether their drivers are alive or not. doing somersaults off the sides will probably break anything from ankles to necks and you have no intention of doing that at all. satisfied that the bridge is safe enough to drive over, you lean against the nearest pillar to recover. looking down at your thin legs supporting your lightweight frame, you know it's inhumanly impossible for you to stop a horse and carriage full of dead bodies, but your mind dwells on whether you did it right regardless. you, therefore, discourage such thoughts as baseless and focus on more immediate concerns. 'It's harder when it's colleagues you know personally.' you think to yourself. 'shall I practice using my spear before I head back?' looking down at the ground below, you spot an angry looking mass of bees in a hollow near the bottom of the hill on the raised bank of the now completely dry river bed. 'You can also use the chance to practice your abilities.' you think to yourself, as you take a less than precise throw at the cluster of bees. you watch as the spec falls well short of the mark, and harmlessly onto the slope. 'I'll get it one day.' you think to yourself, as you retrieve your spear and head down to where the horses stand patiently waiting for you. The first animal instinctively takes a step back, but then seems to cheer up when you begin gently stroking its nose. quietly talking to it and complimenting it, the horse happily stomachs your attentions. the other is more standoffish, stepping away nervously as you approach and only accepting pats on the side of its face, under its harness. "Alright boys, I won't hurt you." you COMMIT to the harmless lunacy I'm inflicting on these poor beasts.. getting back in the shade of the porch roof, you have another small nap before finally waking to the roasting sun claiming its throne in the sky. 11:00am. the dead-house shift was least favorite for a reason. "You want some lunch? I'm heading down to feed the meat heads." you eavesdrop on Simon saying to Roger once downstairs. Roger replies with something about not being hungry but nods when Simon urges him to eat. "How does he know I'm down here?" you think to yourself as you sneak a bread roll from the kitchen and head back up to your room. closing the window shutters and door, you take a small bite of the roll and listen out for the returning men. 'soft footsteps are heard quickly descending the stairs at 12:00pm. "I'm baiting the hook here. these three are much easier to control if they've been sated slightly." You think. 7:00pm has Simon and Roger coming back down the stairs talken about an overnight log haul that needs an extra hand. lunchtime was just the bait to keep them docile for a few hours. "Thank god for logs and lazy workers." you think as you leave the inn door open and return to your room. the window shutters are wide open, letting light flood inside. 'now to see what i can do.' your mind enters into the same kind of focused state it does when you're stacking shelves or cleaning. only instead of placing a glass precisely into a stack, you find yourself moving the bedside table delicately over the straw mattress you toss on the floor beside it. "I really need to have the lumber jacks make cushions" you think, as you acquire an urge to bounce gently on the made bed. "Finally some bounce to this thing." "Okay lets do this." you tell yourself, finding that this simple sentence was surprisingly hard to put thought to action. focusing hard on making your left hand curl shut, you watch as the fingers twitch slightly before your mind feels like the pain has become too much and it drifts back into unconsciousness... "DAMMIT!" you wake suddenly with a burning ring circling your left ring and middle finger. "Burning pain in my hand, of course that's too obvious." you think to yourself as you calm the hammering in your chest. "Now the next time I go to sleep it will probably be centered around my face." you think, instantly feeling tingles starting there. "Sleep, that's what I need right now. it's the best way to heal anyway." You think, as you begin toslip into the hazy borderland between waking and sleeping. "I can fight it of course, this is my mind and i'm strong-willed but that view is irrational. everything we see in dreams is symbolic because the unconscious mind doesn't reason the way... DAMMIT!" burning pain tears the insides of your ring and middle finger once more, making you grit your teeth and moan in pain, ruining your hard-earned slumber. "Oh that's it, someone is going to Pay.." you mutter to yourself as the pain slowly lessoned to a dull throb. you lie on your bed staring at the ceiling practicly all evening, as night comes and the moon peaks through the window you finally stand. "Let's go stre..AACK AGH!" sudden sharp tearing pain rips through face and scalp. it feels similar to a bad chemical burn, right across your hairline from your forehead,right ear and left cheek. you stumble weeping with pain and curses towards the window. moonlight streams through, showing your charred blacken skin writhing and flickering as it slowly begins to heal and knit together. beneath the burnt skin you can feel your face restructuring itself into a wolf like visage, as fur begins to rapidly grow and thicken all over your body. before you can even begin to process this your eyelids feel incredibly heavy, as you fall forwards into a deep sleep. "LOCK IT, LOCK THE DOOR! THEY'RE COMING THROUGH!" a voice cries out. you jolt awake for a second time today, still groggy and confused. it's early morning and that means you slept right through the night. "THEY'RE HERE!!" the shout that rouses you from your sleep comes from outside the supermarket and is quickly followed by the splintering of wood as someone smashes open the door to the pick-up lane. you stagger fully awake as you pull on the clothes you left ripped off last night, just in time to hear someone blasting one of the service windows on the front of the store. "Time to see what this upgraded body can do!" you think as you quickly shove a cart through the service door and down an aisle before aiming it back at the entryway. Picking up a metal candlestick from a dustbin, you jump the cart and launch the stick at the window where it splinters into a large shard that neatly slices through the thick cables bringing the shutter crashing down. Before it landed, you heard several distinct gunshots as rounds slam into the shutter and whine off the concrete around you. you hover near the back of the store nervously looking around as everyone not deployed is loaded into the flying machine in small groups before being flown out somewhere. "I GOT ONE, IN THE BACK!!", one of the guards shouts just as you see three or four people kneel down near the far end of the pick-up lane and begin firing. "OK, so they know I'm here now.. they'll probably send more men than this to kill me, so i'll have to be quick." You think as you move out to the edge of the store, slowing your breathing and controlling your heart rate with your new found abilities. you can feel your ears tingling as they begin to reach full size and point straight backwards, your snout juts out as your teeth begin to sharpen and your skin thickens into a leathery hide. From thebbest you can hear an outgoing fusillade from the guards as they open fire and the air fills with the cracking of gunpowder and shrieks of pain from the werewolves outside. One of your new senses COLOURS the men outside red as you quickly pick out their heat signatures in the dark, they are scattered around the edges of the supermarket, mostly recoiling from a sudden charge out of the covered loading bay by your guards. "They are tightly grouped and terifyingly exposed" You think as you prepared to charge them. "STOP! DO NOT FIRE! Hold Position, Hold.." you hear a man shouting to your guards, punctuated by another volley of shots from teh werewolfs outside.Grunting and straining with the effort, you crouch slowly down onto your hindlegs, your chest swelling as you bore forward and launch yourself into a plunge, smashing through the shatterproof glass with a quiet 'whump'. many thoughts chase each other through your head as you feel the glass rain down around you. You consider that you hadn't previously considered the danger of being shot by the guards as you flew through the air. You also considered how sharp the glass would be when it shattered, and how you hadn't accounted for it holding together like plastic. "I must have 4 wounded by now,and it hasn't even been a minute!"You clearly hear orders shouted outside and can easily follow the sound to a man crouching near a wrecked car, boiling around reloading his ancient rifle. You also see two humans standing in the darkness near the front entrance of the store with guns of their own. You pause for just a second to concentrate, and waves of unnatural chill flow from you as your body begins radiating cold like a refrigerator, freezing the dust in the air seconds before you hit the ground. You land chest first, ploughing into the two guards standing by the door and smashing straight through the retaining wall built from shopping carts. You can hear cracking as your body destroys the wood and plastic before coming to a sudden stop, cupboard and all. You hear gunfire and screaming both near and far as you lie half in the store and half out, a mangled human heap laying on top of you and under you (depending on how you look at it). As you stagger to your feet you look down. Sticking out of your chest you count 5 rounds, 2 inches apart. You had been shot several times before, and can feel that this time is no different than those in the past. Yet the damage you had done with this attack was staggering. You look out into the store from behind the carts and see four men dead, sprawled into a bloody chaos along with the guards crushed by the carts. Your guards have formed a perimeter, guns pointing outwards as they try to protect themselves against the wolves that are even now falling upon them like theLions of Christianized centuries past. Silence falls on the store for a single second before it erupts as your guards and the werewolves engage in close combat. You see a trio of werewolves moving silently through the darkness toward the guard with the radio, intent on cutting off any possible retreat or calling for help. You quickly scan the area, and satisfied that none of the humans are within your immediate reach, you let your mind once again stretch out toward the frozen bodies. The first two begin shuddering as yourcold breath wavers through their bodies. They shiver and shake with tiny cracks and snaps as their muscles and sinews contract in the cold, both men collapse, one falling to his knees before dropping flat onto his face, one falling back into a sitting position before slumping over. You ignore them and concentrate on the third guard. He is clearly frightened for his life, and the cold emanating from your body makes him shake, but he manages to hold his own and prepares to let loose a rain of bullets into both of the werewolves racing toward him. You touch him and he slumps to the ground, his finger bones breaking as his hands spasm from the shock of the freezing temperature enveloping him, you feel his consciousness shudder once... twice... and then fade. You push your luck and order your wolves to instantaneously arrive at his location so they can tear him apart, the last second seems to stretch out to an eternity as you feel his corpse begin to resist you, pulling against your mind. Finally though he whimpers and collapses in a heap onto the ground where he is instantly shredded by the lychanthropes. Once the guards have all been killed an eerie silence falls over the store. You carefully reach out with your mind and count the minds within. Three injured, one severly.You wince as you feel them moved and dragged into the bloodstained aisles before the faint sounds of carnage starts. Then the three lychanthropes arrive at your location with Death himself leading them. You keep your mind carefully shielded but when they throw themselves toward you in a writhing mass of tearing claws and gnashing teeth you cannot avoid thinking that something has gone wrong somehow. "My instructions were for you to take them alive if possible!" you scream out, feeling panic rise in your chest. You lash out at the creatures with your mind, freezing two in place and shattering a skull before the third leaps through the air at you, crushing you into the ground as its jaws close around your throat... Brother mine, our hunt has been successful, but there was a problem. There is a collumn in the newspaper of a truck bound with steel chains beingused to hold down the tarps. I believe this was what cloaked our presence from you. We killed the guards as normal, and I ordered an attack despite your orders. Most obeyed my direct command, hut two held back out of loyality to you. Once we had finished eating them, they explained that the creatures called 'Chevaliers' had arrived and had taken control. I immediately attacked them for lies and killers of their brothers, but left two alive to transmit to you this information. Unfortunately my attempt at mind control failed, and I was forced to kill them. I wish I had taken the time to eat them... I'm sorry brother mine, it seems they really killed fools hill's sheriff and some of our brethren. You'll be joining me soon, and together we shall overthrow these chevaliers and Alpha take his rightful place as leader of our pack! You can continue here You roll off the oversized shelf, raising your shotgun as you lead with the barrel and smoothly swinging it at the nearest Fool, snapping off a volley that catches him in the shoulder, Adonis charges past you and pivots with every shell ring, catching them in legs, chest, arm and face. Their return fire smashes into the shelf, wedging shards of wood into your skin but not quite biting deep enough to hurt seriously. You duck down and rummage through the shevles looking for more shells. "Use the motherfucking bolts! Use the bolts!" Adonis screams over the gunfire and you glance up to see him tearing open throats with his teeth and clawing at eyes in a reminiscence of your earlier fight. Somewhere behind you Tom is screaming far less effectively than the dying Fool. You have the brief impression of a berserkers rage thrown into homicidal bloodlust ... You try to reload the shotgun with trembling hands and find your hands far too shaky and clumsy to manage it quickly. Finally you fumble a shell into the receiver and jacking it into place you spin around looking for targets. There's one fool attempting to lever open the front door as another rampages through than store's back offices, splintering door frames as he goes. There's another fool lunging through the thick afternoon smoke toward Adonis. Taurus stands in the middle of the near empty shop screaming wordlessly, a rifle in his hands. A faint glow of burning wards crawls along his arms and trails behind the muzzle of his gun. He fires at a running fool who went down as soon as the round left the weapon but already you see the burn marks on the side of Taurus' face heal over as he turns to aim behind him. He's burning his reserves of power to boost his aim, if this keeps up he'll have nothing for the fight with Alpha and the scramble for the safety of Galton's truck. It will be every Wolf for himself. "Taurus!" You roar as you bound toward him, a wave of pure force driving a bloodthirsty fool smashing into the counter. "Stop burning your wards and deal with those Chariots... Or I'll deal with you!" You don't wait to see if he acknowledges your order but instead dive across the floor toward the back offices after the fool. The clambering, screaming mass of fur and teeth that is locked in combat there makes you cringe inwardly. Even with your orders you can't bear to see Brother turned against Brother in a struggle for dominance. Worse, Tom should have kept his pet under better control when there are hostiles nearby. You're going to have to seriously improve his behavior if he's to survive your leadership. THe small rooms behind the counter are a mess of broken cabinets, upturned furniture and broken glass from the displays. Slowly moving forward you eye the combat, there are currently two dominated fools ripping into one of yours, ignoring the occasional weak blows they receive in return as they aimed for fleshy unprotected parts like ears eyes and ankles. It's a fairly even match as the dominate fool is also taking injuries, if slower to react. If you timed your attack right now you could easily strike down both dominated fools and give the upper hand in this fight, but you hold back. You're trying to rebuild not decimate, although you may well decimate anyway... "Sorry rogues." You mutter before dashing out into the fight and delivering a crushing blow to the back of one of fools ears. It drops and rolls over limp as rag once more. The second one tries to ignore you, focusing on its own opponent but you grab it's arm yank it off and send a heavy fist into the side of its head sending it sprawling. The rogue you disabled lunges back up at it's original opponent and the pair of them begin cancelling each other out again. You leave them to it and turn your attention to Taurus. Where is he "Taurus!" you bark out as you spot him, he's through the doorway of the room alongside two dominated fools. "Taurus!" You head towards him only to be faced by his rifle barrels. "What?" He seems very distracted and on edge "I'm busy look for Galton, I didn't know who was trying to get my attention." He's trying to peer past you but you block his view. "There are chariots on the road and they are shooting at us!" "So?" He sets his jaw impatiently "We know they are hostile, this is were we came from afterall." "...We should get out of here." Taurus just laughs shortly at that "Sure, you lead then. Not like I can trust you to defend my vulnerable flanks while I easily take out the fool using his little bolt pistol." "But there are chariots shooting at us! Surely we are not safe anywhere outside this building..." you try to stress the point but Taurus clearly isn't listening. "I know you're not afraid of battle, surely you see what's going on here?" Taurus notices the commotion for the first time and peers around your frame. He clearly doesn't like what he sees as he gives a derisive snort and turns back to you "Maybe you're right let's go.Where'd you say thisGalton went?" You don't even try to convince him further, he's clearly too distracted or arrogant to see sense, either way he's on his own. You head to the door at the opposite end of the shop front from where the chariots are battling it out, hopefully to find Galton and extra lives... "Wait!" Taurus calls after you "I'm coming too!" You aren't confident that he will, his overconfidence and disdain for "cowardly running away" might get him killed but at least you tried. Luck is on your side, or perhaps Taurus has just grown tired of his life of crime because he does indeed follow you. Your journey back to the library is predictably hounded by Violence, which nearly proves fatal on multiple occasions but the two of you eventually lose anyone who was interested in pursuing you back at the library itself. You stand outside, pondering your next move. "Right, so it's all gone to hell. Citys half destroyed, crew dead or rogue and Machai gone with the rest. I say we finish the job, kick Casimir out of his little headquarters and nab himself. Then reconquer the city ourselves, can't be that hard. We've both got..." Taurus is interrupted mid sentence by a knife suddenly and painfully embedding itself into the wooden door frame inches from his face. You jump back in shock. Casimir lowers his arm and grins wickedly at you both "Nearly got your brains there, fool. One of many mistakes ye have made." He spits the words out at you like they taste bad "Come to gloat have we? Found right hand mister powerful religion and knifed him in the back? I know progress has been made but, sadly it hasn't been enough. Your time, Taurus, is up AND SO ARE YOU." With that the pews previously used by your fellows as a barricade are shoved aside as if nothing and a horde of naked fanatics pour out screaming "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!", "KILL THE TRAITORS!'. You nock an arrow but realize there are about a hundred of them, all determined to hack you to pieces. Even Taurus looks taken aback by the sheer number of attackers. "Wait! We can talk about this!" He appeals desperately to Casimir "This isn't going to..." The Libertus head on the sticks speech is cut brutally short as a thrown axe buries itself into his face. His surprised form wavers in front of you for a moment as the blood leaks from his ruined face. You don't even have time to see if he's still alive before clubs, chains, knives, fists and even feet clobber, batter and stomp you from all sides. Makes aiming impossible, you just attempt to shelter yourself and ignore your pain. Even behind your armour, your body takes a beating as you're wracked with agony from head to toe. Your world is slowly turned into a writhing mass of black and purple, punctuated by spurts of red from split skin, wounds and blood leaking from broken vessels in your eye. The screams of death of those around you are replaced with weird "oofs" and "Wheezes" as organs give way and ribs pierce your organs. Suddenly, the pain is too much and all you know is darkness Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for them, Taurus wreaks havoc in their attempt to butcher you. With one hand he catches a cleaver meant for your head, twists the hairy arm of the hirsute fool and snaps it like a twig. He hurls the screaming mutant into his fellows, bowling them over then follows up with a hand thrust that pierces the heart of the next. As he flings the twitching body aside, he catches sight of the mob attacking you. Your quiver is empty and your own arms and weapons locked against several attackers, staving off fatal blows. Mustering all the remaining poweres within him, Taurus lets of a mighty battlecry and charges into the fray, bashing and knocking aside mutants like an enraged beast. Sadly you do not live to see his charge successful. After stabbing a man in the throat you take a bladed shoe to your skull for your troubles. Darkness engulfs you and both you and Taran crumple to the floor. You were one of Taurus' best men, his right hand even. You died doing your duty for him and perhaps one day you'll share a drinking horn in his hall, or if your deeds are vile enough he'll throw you into the darkest most hellish realm imaginable. As for now, your life leaves you and you're just meat left to be consumed by the worms. END The world is ending, or at least that's what they say. Regardless of your actual beliefs, the air certainly smells like it. A stench rising from the cracks and crevasses from which you watch bile bubble and blaze. Even from your high position you can feel the heat of the magma flowing just underneath. Respected Taurus has long since departed, having been appointed to oversee operations in the new fortresses being built in the Grass Land Kingdom further north. With him went a good portion of the most talented and skilled Goliaths and majority of the elite forces. The rank and file Goliaths are content to stay simply because they're enthusiastic about the plans and really believe they can change things. More fool, them you think, even if you're forced to admit that their dedication is admirable. The monstrosities outnumber the regular goliaths now and the experimentations have produced some...interesting results. Most haven't been particularly useful, but the twins owning the building you're in right now are accepted among their fellows despite their strange colouring and carnivorous appetites. Carnivorous in the literal sense too, you remember with a grimace, as you see one enjoying the flavour of one of the dwarves you brought with you for lunch. They're used as scouts by Tûn's chosen now, their gliding ability and natural stealth seemingly combining into some kind of super-sonic flight without them even realising it. It's similar to gliding, but faster, and definitely not as graceful or pretty a sight when they come back to "recharge" by devouring one of the other less-favoured morsels from Tûn. Iales is in charge of the "natives" now. You've long since learned their strange language and passed on what little you knew of the land to them. Unfortunately, that is not much beyond a more rounded fear and hatred of it and fiction of demons prowling Now that Tûn has left, the majority of the Goliaths' attention has wavered. The mighty fortresses he envisioned are half built and resources are stretched. You're no longer high in demand as a translator or advisor anymore and now that the persecution of the Irregulars is over, there are a lot less dwarves about anyway. That's assuming they're all dead...you suppose. You've had about enough of the city now and travelling around the countryside is out of the question thanks to constant orders for you to remain where you can be found for advice if needed, but it seems that lately it rarely is. You imagine being trapped in the tower again would drive you mad, so you take to wandering outside the city instead. The games are still popular, although they changed slightly since Tûn arrived, since besides the traditional gladiators fighting beasts and each other they began executing dissidents and unbelievers. You're glad you're DM decisions allowed the more geeky types with low Strength Ability Scores to breed like rabbits while the muscular, athletic types die by the sword or bolt or from falling. Or from the slaughter of the elves, which has continued as ruthless as ever. Tûn doesn't seem to care that soldiers and Goliaths are coming back with few survivors. You can barely comprehend it, even you can have a hard time doing it and you weren't directly involved in the genocide of your own people. While your city is prosperous again and merchants and nobles enjoy their pleasures alongside extremely tame elves or other imported slaves doing the grosser aspects of work. And on that topic, you imagine when the elves are finally exterminated there will be a boom in slaves from other races as the plebs will no longer have to work. And this party will no doubt last a few more decadesthinck222; but right now society is ripe and ready to topple like a domino and all it would take is for Tûn to make just one mistake...but as far as you know he hasn't. He's cautious. While he has complete control over the military, executes anyone who disagrees with him and allows rampant corruption, he also keeps tight alliances with the other powers in Carn, trades with them, maintains relative (though perhaps forced sometimes) harmony and profits from all A year passes Tûn has finally about face on Carn's isolationism. Well, at least a little bit. You wholeheartedly agreed with that policy, and while you still think it's the best stance to take in this world of treachery and warfare, Tûn at least wants to have strong ties with at least one other city just in case. Tûn has also announced his bid for presidency. He openly plans on turning Carn into a totalitarian nation with himself as the leader obviously. Again, you agree with his long term plans, but you question if this is the best time. The city is at its peak, but it could be awhile before it falls into ruin and he's susceptible to a well timed strike from another power. Your wandering today takes you near the gladiator school you sometimes visit in search of contentment or inspiration for new games. Many times along the way you're stopped and hailed as the man of the moment for Tûn's election victory! You always smile and wave and that's when you know it's time to make your exit. You bought Tûn his time, now he has to maintain it. It isn't long before the physical signs of war become apparent, and it isn't from conquering anyone either. You see a large explosion on the edge of the land border Carn shares with Retlad. You hope it isn't a large amount of explosive's caches mixed with a stray fireball from an angry wizard or something similar. You come upon the first dead body of a Retlaf soldier. For a moment you hope these are the remains of a Goliaths victim, but they aren't big enough and the gear and weapons are different. The city state of Retlad evidently had enough and decided to attack Carn outright. You can't be sure, but it looks like there are at least three or four different units from the way the dead are dressed in modern armor mixed with medieval attire. You come across another one, who appears to have been running while carrying a wounded fellow soldier away from the battlefield nursing a mortal wound himself. Under his hand is a picture of a woman and couple of kids. In his other hand is a pistol currently too large for his own hand. He probably kept it as a reminder of the struggles his family went through so he could enjoy his life now. Just as you are thinking about stopping to give the man a proper burial, you hear an airship cry overhead. This battle is already over Carn's fate has already been decided and all that is left now is the cleanup and celebration. You wouldn't be able to fight anyway. Your condition wouldn't allow it, not that you would have the time or proper attitude to heal properly between bouts. With your options dwindling, you decide to take the only path left that may allow you to hold on to some semblance of your past... You head back home As you return to your modest residence, you take comfort in the silence. However temporary it may be, for visitors aren't common but they're not unheard of. Since nobody comes to greet you by the front door you enter without any further caution. You begin to ascend the stairs to your bed when a familiar sweet voice meets your ears. "You sure kept us waiting!" Looking down you see your daughter and wife jumping up and down in excitement at your arrival. Having lost the former word 'overprotective' from your vocabulary, seeing them so happy to see you, especially after such a trying experience fills you with fatherly joy and appreciation that they, as well as you are all home safe and sound. "Who was it this time?" Your wife asks in genuine interested; she probably has an idea but wants to hear it directly from you. "Possibly the Carn, they definitely the Retladians at some point." You begin your story as you all head up to the bedroom. "Well you're back, that's what really matters." Your wife says with a smile. You chuckles tiredly, gesturing towards her belly. "Not for long it seems, this one's willing to put itself at risk first!" Predictably she swats your arm while heading into the bedroom, you sit on the edge of your bed and remove your boots. Once this is finished you join your wife and daughter on the bed who are looking at you expectantly. Knowing better than to distract you from your story they patiently wait for you to start. "Well, since it's been a hectic few days let's start from the Carn attack." You begin. And so you recount your tale of horrors from this last week. Of fetid corpses crawling out of the mud with inhuman strength and the fetid anger of the dead within them. Of powerful spells cast by great living mages that struck down scores of the horde. Of mighty heroes cutting down hundreds, if not thousands of the beasts with gleaming steel and spells of their own. "That's just what I've seen out there!" You exclaim, "I can't imagine what tales the soldiers who fought before that have to tell!" Your daughter clings to you at your statement, and much as you hate worrying her, you know she needs hear this. "But it can't last forever." Your wife says. You nod. "I know..." You reply tiredly. "I just wish I could do more, you know?" You take a breath and let your gaze drift towards the ceiling. "I mean, after all the stories of heroism I've heard over the years, with this happening now I just feel like one of those chicken-hearted soldiers hiding behind his shields and armor rather than doing something meaningful like the heroes I've written about.. I keep wondering when my chance for true heroism is gonna come, and I can't do it." "Oh hon', you're not a hero." Your wife says fondly. "You're my hero, but you're not some knight or wandering swordsman or whatever. You're my husband and the father of our daughter, and if you go off and get yourself killed I'll just kill you myself." "I'm still here you know!" Your daughter protests. Your wife just smiles at the both of you. "Exactly. You're not a hero of ancient legend, you're my husband and the father of our daughter. And that's all the heroism you need." You smile and give her a kiss. After enduring all that you did to be together, you feel as if you're invincible when she's by your side. Even if the rest of the kingdom falls to demons, so long as your wife and daughter are beside you, you know that you can bare it all. You and your wife spend the rest of the night lovingly with each other, cherishing these moments. Just thinking about it gives you another idea... The next day you head to the captain's quarters and ask to speak with him. Normally such requests are denied but your fame has ensured that you have some leeway, and after only a few minutes you're granted with an audience. When you see the grizzled soldier who has overseen the levy troops, he gives you a look of both contempt and weary respect. You're still not sure whether he'll shout at you to get out or tell you to make up some story for your next tale. Thankfully you know which way this will go. "I want to go on a scouting mission." The man lets out a chuckle which soon develops into full blown laughter. Eventually he wipes a tear away from his eye and manages to speak. "That's probably the most heroic thing I ever heard, but there ain't no way in hell of you going out there. We're only letting people go who have skills we can utilize or ethnic minorities who actually know what the hell they're doing in these conditions." You nod. "Probably would be best to keep me then." His expression turns sour. "I'm listening. "The fact of the matter is I'm being a hypocrite, I'm writing about heroes when I'm sitting in the safety of my own home. Hell, I rarely leave my home nowadays because of these beasts. If I'm going to tell stories about heroes of old, I need to be one myself." The man still looks skeptical so you continue. "I'm ready to die for my country if need be, but I'd rather live for the both of us. No amount of training could teach me what you could in the time we have. Send me out there with a few of your best and I'll learn whatever is necessary to assist in this war." It takes him a moment, but he smiles at your proposal. 'I suppose that's pretty bold of you. You're quite the hero fanboy, but I like your idea. You'll have the best troops I have, but just so you know, they won't be able to save you if you do something stupid. Just tell the bogeys to go away and they die." "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you captain." Before you leave, he glances at something in his desk and his expression darkens. "You're not going to live past this mission, but maybe your legacy will outlive you." With that morbid thought, he hands you a folded letter. "Give this to your wife whoever the hell she is. She'll know what it means, now get out of my sight. I have a mission to prep for. "Thank you captain." You say, feeling emotional about receiving a letter for your wife. The next few days of waiting come and go far too slowly. Eventually your troops are all ready and you board an airship to head out to battle. As the ship slowly rises into the air, the man beside you shouts to be heard over the roar of the craft. "I'm Miller, what's your name?" You shout. It seems pointless to do this, but it's what's expected of you. "Miller? Like the drink?" You respond or a joke and laugh. The man's expression darkens and he soon leaves you alone for the rest of the flight. The others however give you a variety of responses. Some laugh, some joke in return, and one person sits far away from you for some reason.. I'm sure as hell not going to remember their names. I guess that joke was just terrible. You think while looking out the window to see the scars left by the behemoth in the distance. Far below, you can see the stretches of defensive walls that circle the entire nation of Galpatis. You silently wonder why they let you on this airship with no questions asked. Aren't they afraid you're a saboteur or something similar? It's not really the time to be thinking about it though, as your ship touches down at the base. An officer quickly comes up to you. "This is neither the time nor the place for you." He says rather matter-of-factly, which produces a confused look from you. "I'm Captain Dugan and we can discuss this back at headquarters." He continues after taking a brief glance at the rest of your group. You comply and board the waiting cart, sitting against the wall as you wait for Captain Dugan to join you. Miller and a few others board after him and the claustrophobic space becomes even more uncomfortable. Your escort is silent the whole time, but that's not what's on your mind. You're mulling over Captain Dugan's words. "Neither the time nor place." Did he know you were going to be killed by the king? If he did, that means your death might have been planned. The thought disgusts you and causes you to shake your head roughly. Stop getting worked up over 'what ifs' you tell yourself. You're still alive right now and you were meant to be for a reason. I mean I guess it sucks that the order can just decide whether someone lives or dies while others don't have a choice, but what's past is past. No point in worrying about it now. Hours later you arrive at military headquarters, a giant building that makes the wall you stared at for six hours look like a barricade. An intense feeling of dread washes over you and the officer stands from his table to greet Captain Dugan. "... This floor is for full soldiers, not their pet monkeys who never should have been here to begin with." He says, meeting your eyes as he passes. You feel the metal of your eyes begin to quiver and surface as holes repeatedly puncture your skull and top to bottom, front to back. Blood spills out of your nose in an effort to prevent suffocation as you collapse onto the ground, vision fading. What comes next is a parade of the heads of your comrades watching you struggle to live while boringly watching with disinterest as the Grim Reaper feels out your last moments. "... He won't die from that. patched people up long after the body should've died. Hell, those Crika bitches don't even die from it. Betrayers... all of them." Captain Dugan says as he watches you struggle. "Hrm. Think we should have them relegated to the mines?" His colleague suggests as he adjusts his glasses. "Dangerous work and most likely won't be able to psychologically handle it, but I don't think trauma and guilt will be nearly as effective as a death sentence unfortunately..." Captain Dugan sighs as he watches your struggles turn from desperate flailing to erratic spasms. You soon pass and the officer walks away. You're left retching out blood with your body shutting down organ by organ. As the light dims from your eyes, you can feel something inside of you breaking, like a window that previously obstructed some kind of opening. You're not sure what it is, but you don't have much time to think about it. You're dead soon after. You've been killed by the hands of the king. [Death]Tip: You can write much more verbose actions than just "grab bucket", etc...Story

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