#someone be my knight in dark depraved armor

[just-a-forest-nymph]

The constant desire to be completely ravaged and ruined in slutty little chainmail lingerie while someone holds a fancy dagger to my throat. Them grunting and growling in my ear about how needy my dripping cunt is as I clench around them in pure ecstasy. 🗡️✨😩



[vedurnan]

my elden ring player characters

the elden ring dlc comes out soon, is everyone excited? let's talk about our elden ring characters. i will begin.

i played through elden ring right after the game released when almost nothing was known about it, and so my first encounters with its world were full of mystery. i had no idea what was awaiting me so i imagined my first character as a foreign knight from a land across the sea, the very distant kin of an ancient warlord, just like the game's story describes our player character. this gave birth to...

i loved how her history and personality came together in my head naturally as i played through the game and came to know its world. we walked in parallel together through a strange digital landscape and made big decisions in the game before the community of players had figured out what the consequences of those actions would be. it lent itself perfectly to the "doomed knight" character she took on as our travels continued. she's a strength build with a lot of fire incantations on the side, very fun to play for me :)

next i wanted to try a dexterity character with bleeding damage, and that playstyle made me feel like a cheating asshole because it was so strong, like i was some kind of cunning & depraved highwayman...

unlike lorence who came into the service of the evil serpent from a faraway place, i imagined myrtle as a gelmir local, someone who is totally adapted to the nightmare landscape & murder ecosystem of the mountain of blasphemy. lorence and myrtle both fit dark souls "invader" archetypes very cutely in my mind, and when i play as either of them i like to use my recusant finger every once in a while even though i am terrible at pvp. beware dude, we will get you!

i also wanted to try something really different which i had never tried in any of these games before, a pure sorcery character. the royal academy atmosphere of raya lucaria was fun to adventure in but didn't feel like a type of character i wanted to inhabit, so i imagined once again that this new sorcerer was from lands far away...

i think u can see my earthsea fanfiction showing here, but that's fine with me. i imagine ternfeather as someone from perhaps a bit farther away than lorence, having only heard vague stories or out-of-date historical information about the lands between. i imagine the voyage was long and difficult and he must have been looking forward to a warm welcome from his new colleagues, but instead they started shooting glintstone shards at him :(

i use a lot of sleep magic on this character, which can make some combat encounters very difficult but others extremely easy. that highly specialized feeling seems fitting for a character with an academic background to me, & i also enjoy how sleep magic is connected to a folkloric figure of mixed or indeterminate gender within the game's story. very satisfying!

as i played through the game on these characters i became really enamored with the FLAME OF FRENZY and i knew i had to play a character centered all around it. i also wanted to play a very faith-focused character build so this worked out nicely...

i tried to play odile very close to her backstory as a random frenzied commoner, so she doesn't wear any armor other than her clothing and usually only uses a club and frenzy incantations (although sometimes i can't resist using vyke's spear). following the frenzy storyline through the lands between and into the depths under the capital was so fun, everything about it is dope 2 me :)

damn this made a long post! i like to imagine that these four adventure together kind of like a darkest dungeon party, or like service industry workers or something. they are all from very disparate backgrounds and don't always get along that well, but the circumstances of their dying world have bound them together as companions

[fangirl-1523]

My Sworn Brothers [Luffy x Crossover!Sister!Reader x Ace x Sabo]

A/N: Hey, so I want to write a High School AU of the many, many anime I have watched/ read. Bleach, Blue Exorcist, Devil is a Part-Timer, Durarara, Fairy Tail, Fullmetal Alchemist, High School of the Dead, InuYasha, Kill La Kill, Magi, My Hero Academia, Noragami, One Piece, Ouran High School Host Club, Pokemon, Saiki K, Sailor Moon, Seven Deadly Sins, Soul Eater, Sword Art Online, Vampire Knight, Your Lie in April, and Yu Gi-Oh. And I was wondering who would you like to be apart of your friend? And would you like to have a relation to any of the characters of the world. 

Summary: [Y/N] is the oldest sworn sister to Luffy, Ace, and Sabo. And after finding Ace and Sabo aboard Luffy’s ship, the Thousand Sunny, she explains to them who she is, her other sworn brothers and sisters, embarrasses the three of them (a regular Tuesday for her), and threatens them with a chalkboard for interrupting her. Multiple times. In this story, most of the anime I am into is in the same world (Bleach, Blue Exorcist, Fairy Tail, Fullmetal Alchemist, InuYasha, Magi, My Hero Academia, Naruto, Noragami, Seven Deadly Sins, and Sword Art Online.  I might do a part 2. 

Warnings: spoilers for the above mangas and animes, also, even though this is along the timeline of after the time skip (at some point), I took the creative liberty to have Ace alive during this meeting for a quad family reunion, might be language

Word Count: 1, 668

“How the hell am I suppose to believe that my three idiotic brothers would be in the same place at the exact same time I’m trying to find them?” the girl with [H/C] hair, old enough to be Luffy’s age, maybe a year younger or a year older than him. 

“[Y/N]!!” the rubber boy flung himself at her in a hug.

She fell down on her butt from the impact of the hug. She groaned before pushing the boy off of her and standing up, dusting herself off. “Geez, Lu. I was on a job, just finished, and I heard something about a Straw Hat, a Fire Fist, and a blonde with a top hat that put the mad hatter to shame. I just came to see if the rumors are true.” 

“What job did you have, sis?” Sabo said as he sipped a smoothie created from Vinsmoke Sanji. 

“Well, you see. In the ten years I’ve been gone, I’ve been busy. Both with being lazy and being diligent.” the girl explained. “I am a member of Fairy Tail. Dragon Slayer Magic, particularly fire, water, earth, air, and plant. Requip the Knight. Some space jumping there and vortex opening here.” 

“You got the two mixed up, kid.” Ace said from his spot next to Sabo. 

The girl grinned an evil grin. “Oh, did I, Ace of Clubs?” 

The raven haired pirate groaned at the nickname while Luffy’s crew members wondered after the nickname. Ace kept giving her the don’t-tell-them-anything look with a cut-it-out motion. She, like most people she knew, did not listen to reason. 

“Well, when we were younger, I attempted to teach the pour unfortunate souls that you call Luffy, Sabo, and Ace golf. And we played mini-gold. First hole we went to, the club flew out of Ace’s hand and crashed into the window where the pour lady working the club stand was clonked on the head and fell unconscious. Another fun fact: I’m overly competitive and therefore master of mini gold. Luffy on the other hand... beat my bowling high score of just a little over four hundred points.” [Y/N] explained. 

“THAT’S NOT HOW YOU PLAY GOLF, YOU IDIOT!” Usopp shouted at his captain. 

“Ace was a lot worse. However, on the eighteenth hole, got a hole in one. Although with team sports, I always sided with Luffy ‘cuz he was the baby of the family.” she explained. 

“Never play Volleyball with her unless you’re Luffy.” Sabo warned the Straw Hat Pirates. 

“Could you... possibly.... explain who you are?” asked Nami. 

“That’s an easy and excellent question, m’lady. I am [Y/N] [L/N], the daughter of the Demon King from the Demon Clan, Niece of Solomon, adoptive daughter of the great dragon, The Curse of Depravity, a mage of S-Class ranking, the best older sister anyone can have, a Shinigami, and the Pirate Fairy.” [Y/N] said with her hands on her hips like wonder woman. 

“You’re not wonder woman, dumbass.” Ace muttered. 

She scowled at the boy (who was now physically older than her). “I know that, asshole.” Ace shrugged his shoulders at that. “Anyways, I should get going. I’m here with my teammates. And Salamander will have a cow if he finds out I’m on a Pirate Ship. Which may or may not include Natsu asking you all to fight him at once for his sister.” [Y/N] shrugged. 

“SISTER?!” Luffy screeched. 

“YOU ALREADY REPLACED US?!” Ace and Sabo said in unison. 

“This is why I never took you to Amusement parks or sat next to you on a ride.” she clenched at her swollen ears.  “No, I was merely saying that I have something called [Y/N]’s Council of Brothers. They’re basically a band of boys I feel need my protection, wisdom, and power to embarrass them until they’re six feet under and rotting.” 

“She’s dark.” Nami said. “But can you explain this whole Council of Brothers thing. Because I’m not sure they,” the ginger pointed to the three brothers, “understand.” 

“Alright! I will go over a lesson here!” and suddenly a white board appeared by her side with writing already on it. 

“Where did you get the white board?” asked Luffy. 

“That’s not important right now.” she scowled. “Yes, Sabo.” 

“Was that Whiteboard always there and we just never noticed it?” the blonde asked. 

“No. Ace if this is a question about the white board, I will smack you with the same gold club that flew through that window. All questions about the stupid whiteboard will be answered after I explained everything. Got it?” 

The three brothers grumbled out a, “Yes.”  

“Good. Anyways, to start it off I have two half-brothers. Meliodas and Zeldris.” she slapped a pointer stick against the whiteboard. 

“Did she always have that?” Ace asked, whispering it to his two brothers. 

“I don’t know. I’m just glad someone noticed it besides me.” Sabo murmured back. 

“SILENCE, YOU INSOLENCE FOOLS!” and she threw a frying pan which hit Ace in the head. 

Why does she have a frying pan in her requips? Sabo wondered in his head, not wanting to get hit in the head with anything else she might have to throw at them. 

“Anyways, Meliodas and Zeldris are my half-brothers. Zeldris is the captain of the Demon Clan’s ten Commandments while Meliodas is the captain of Liones’s Seven Deadly Sins of which I am co-captain and the Phoenix Sin of Darkness. To be fair, I look more like my mother and I think the only thing me, Meliodas, and Zeldris share is our dumbassery we inherited from our father. Second off, my cousin is Magi Aladdin since my mother is his father, Solomon,’s sister. Now, that’s enough of my actual biological family. Now, I won’t go into detail about those three. Because you already seem well-acquainted with one another. Anyways, onto the next one. The next one on my list of brothers is a half-demon named Rin who is the son of Satan along with his younger brother, Yukio, but he doesn’t really need protection. next is Kazuto Kirigaya also known as Kirito. I prefer to call him that. He got stuck in a game where if you die there, you die in real life, but he defeated them. next, we have Satan himself, a king of demons, Sadou Maou. He works as a part-timer for a fast food chain which is sad to be honest. Next, we have Alibaba Saluja, a prince and a king’s candidate, also my cousin’s best friend. He wields the fire djinn, Amon. Also, he’s trying to be a gladiator while figuring out his feelings for Fanalis and former slave Morgiana. Next, we have actual God Yato who is a former god of calamity and a current god of war. I think. I’m not quite sure. But he and his two regalia, Yukine and a Nora named Kazuma, but also Kazune under Yato, must be protected by me at all cost. Then, we have Edward Elric, a alchemist missing both a leg and an arm because he wanted to see his mom’s smile again which kicks me in the heartstrings whenever I hear it. His brother, Alphonse, is an honorary member of the Council of Brothers. And he used to be entirely a soul attached to a suit of armor. No joke.” 

“Does no one else notice that they are mostly raven haired or blonde?” Nico Robin commented. 

The Straw Hat Pirates turned to the three sworn brothers who just shrugged their shoulders at that. “I admit I am guilty for that. But my actual brothers are raven headed and blonde, so that may be the reason. Anyways, off to the next people. Now, this person could make Luffy look like a genius. Sometimes. Natsu Dragneel, a salmon haired fire dragon slayer, is the brother of Zeref Dragneel, the black wizard, and also simultaneously END, the most powerful demon of the book of zeref which makes him one of the top fifteen most powerful demons. Next, we have strawberry boi, Ichigo Kurosaki, a shinigami who I’ve been helping train. He could see the dead and then he discovered his spiritual power, stole the shinigami powers of Rukia Kuchiki, and started to exorcist hollows and send souls to the soul society. Then, we have my favorite band of brothers since they could literally be in a band. Broccoli Boi, Izuku Midoriya, kinda has a power augmentation quirk, best way to describe it without giving too much away, Porcupine Katsuki Bakugo who can blow things up with help from his sweat. Zuko Wannabe Shoto Todoroki who can wield fire and ice. Also, his brother Touya may or may not be Dabi. Then, Pikachu Kaminari Denki who can utilize elctricity, but too much and he makes Luffy look like a genius. No joke. Well… maybe… I don’t really know. Anyways, then we have speedster Tenya Iida. Oh, there’s sharkboy Eijiro Kirishima. He can make himself go as hard as rock, but he has limitations. Then, we have spidertape Hanta Sero that can shoot tape out of his elbows. Then, half-demon InuYAsha who is the son of a dog demon and a mortal woman. There’s also Shippo who is an adorable little kitsune. And I think I got everyone.” the girl looked at her board before smacking it again as she noticed Luffy had begun to doze off while Ace had totally fallen asleep. 

The action alerted the two boys to wake up at once and glare at their older sister. And then, a silver haired undead man with a flying blue cat landed on the floor of the ship. “Thank goodness we found you. C’mon. We got a mission and you and your ‘Team Natsu’ have a job request from the old man and a princess.” 

“So Hisui and Bartra both agree to have us do something, but what is this so-called mission?” asked [Y/N]. 

Ban smirked. “We’re fighting slave-trading pirates.” 

“I want in!” Luffy cheered.

[argonas]

Misguided Justice - Pt. I

[[ Co-written with @kidcatgemini​ / @sinafay-the-defiant​ ]]

Evening had descended by the time Argonas set hoof on the small Arathi farmstead. Quaint and simple, the Vindicator could barely believe this is where his wayward student Sinafay had settled down. No measure of justice was served from such a simple life. But then, he knew she’d abandoned such duties in favor of her abhorrent and deviant lifestyle. His fists clenched as he paced up the hill from the fields proper, towards the small cottage overlooking the land. Smoke billowing from the chimney served as a sure sign someone was home. Sinafay… Grakkar… that abomination they called a child… he expected to find all three inside. Disgusting and unnatural as it was, that wasn’t even why Argonas was here. No, Sinafay’s transgressions far exceeded that, now.

Despite Raetos’ unwillingness to do what was necessary, and his efforts to convince the Vindicator of such, Argonas knew otherwise. Anyone who abided such evils as Avehi raising the dead were just as culpable as she was! By harboring and abetting the Death Knight, Sinafay had made her choice. And the Light demanded its justice. It almost hurt to consider; he really had taken pride in training young Sinafay in the ways of the Light, helping to nurture and cultivate her talents into a beacon of strength for their people. Such a waste…

His heavy hand banged against the wooden door - so fragile, he worried it might break if he hit it too hard. Still, the firm knocks echoed through the farmstead, as the Vindicator made his presence known.

“Sinafay!” he called out. “Sinafay the Defiant!”

It didn’t take very long for the door to open, revealing a very angry looking Draenei, brows knit into a scowl. She’d done a great job at losing the baby weight, already a good way back to her Vindicator fitness level. She wore a lovely, yet simple robe, ideal for a busy mother, yet accentuated her natural curves and showed off her Light bound tattoos. 

“Argonas,” she scolded, “Do you mind maybe NOT waking the baby I just put to sleep?!”

She pushed forward to try and shove the Vindicator back, but Argonas was unmovable as always, and in his full armor of course! With a frustrated huff, she moved around him, shutting the door behind her as she began to walk down the hill, tail twitching. Best to do the yelling away from Neelah. She couldn’t imagine what her former mentor was doing here at this time of night.

“What the FUCK are you doing here?!” She growled.

Perhaps it was motherhood, the hormones raging through her. Or perhaps coupling with a filthy Orc for too long had boosted her aggression. Maybe, partly, she was upset to see him again after how he left things with her. There were many likely factors, but no matter what or why, Sinafay was being terribly bitchy. It wasn't the attractive sour attitude he cherished in his departed mate, either; she was just being erratic and grumpy. Terribly unappealing!

He followed her a ways down the hill, stern expression his only real response to her demeanor. He looked her over, a mixture of sorrow and regret overcoming him. Oh how far she'd fallen… even glistening with the Light from her Lightforging did little to make her seem redeemable after such a terrible track her life had followed. It pained him to see his former pupil like this. Such shame he felt, clearly having failed to teach her not to parlay with savage orcs, or aide depraved Death Knights. She was his greatest failure.

"... I am told you sheltered and aided Avehi. Is this true?" Argonas asked, bluntly.

Sinafay raised a brow, turning to look at him as the question was asked. She relaxed a bit, having shaken off the anger now that they were a fair distance away from the house.

“She was here a few months ago; came across the farm by happenstance. Hadn’t seen each other for a while, so we caught up. Went on her way after that.”

Sinafay crosses her arms over her chest. Why was Argonas looking for Avehi? She thought back on her conversation with the Death Knight, frowning. She finally took a moment to look the Vindicator over; those dark circles under his eyes… and something looked off in that luminous gaze of his. Something she’d missed in her earlier frustration.

“If that’s what you mean by ‘sheltered and aided’, then yeah, I guess I did. Why?”

“She has dragged you into her terrible misdeeds.” Argonas elaborated, albeit vaguely. “Avehi has been raising the dead for nefarious purposes. If you are a friend to her, she will likely come here to seek shelter again. To hide from the Light’s justice.”

His eyes narrowed, as he reached back to draw his crystalline blade.

“This, I cannot allow.”

Sinafay didn’t wait a moment longer to see where the conversation was leading. She’d seen this exact situation play out too many times, on Draenor, to those suspected of aiding the Mag’har under Yrel’s reign.

She wasn’t about to allow him to use that blade. While she’d taken on a more domestic role over the past months, she’d kept her senses sharp. Having an Orc mate who enjoyed a good spar helped quite a bit.

Her eyes flared, hands slamming into the large Vindicator’s chest with a powerful blast of Holy Light to push him back before taking on a defensive position.

“I suppose I was right to not have trusted you after all.”

It hurt to have her suspicions realized. To know that her mentor was as blinded as the people she’d left behind on her world. She felt justified, in a way, the guilt of hiding her relationship with Grakkar from him washing away.

“Leave us be, Argonas,” she warned, baring her teeth, “This is your only warning.”

The Vindicator’s hooves scraped along the ground, slowing him from skidding too far back. He grunted, frowning deeper at Sinafay. He expected resistance, of course. He’d trained her well enough not to take a death threat lying down!

“Do you think I want to do this? I thought I had taught you better! But you have fallen so far from the path I laid out for you!” he growled, plated fist tightening around the hilt of his blade. “You failed! You abandoned your post! You betrayed our kin on Draenor, breaking your vow to protect them! And for an Orc!?”

“Hmph. Consider it my highest honor.” Sinafay shot back, defiantly.

Argonas grunted. He rushed in, hoofsteps hastened by the Light itself in a furious charge. He swung his sword in a wide arc towards Sinafay. Sinafay shot forward as he charged. She didn’t have a weapon or armor, but knew agility wasn’t Argonas’ strong suit, and planned to use that to her advantage. She rolled as he swung, just passed his right leg to end up behind him, her tail wrapped around his ankle, tugging it back with her momentum as she got to her hooves. 

She didn’t turn back to look if he’d fallen forward or not as she kept running; hoping she’d bought herself a bit of time as she headed towards Grakkar’s workshop. She knew there would be a weapon or something there she could use to defend herself with. The Lightbound could hear nothing but her rapid heartbeat as adrenaline rushed through her system, making it impossible to know if he was right behind her or not.

Suddenly, a bolt of Light struck her shoulder, knocking her off balance just as she reached the workshop. She stumbled and fell into the door, crashing through it! The heavy hoofbeats of Argonas closed in, making up what distance the tripping attack bought had cost him.

“And now, you abide by such abhorrence as Avehi raising the dead! Our own people, enthralled by her necrotic powers!” he continued to charge Sinafay, shouting aggressively. “I know not what set you on such a depraved path after we parted, Sina. But it has led to this final judgment! The Light will not tolerate your abusing its blessing to supplement death and pain to its chosen people!”

He brought his blade up for an overhead swing, cutting straight down vertically!

Sinafay barely had time to cocoon herself within a barrier of Light. Argonas’ sword crashed into it, causing sparks to fly and crackle in a near blinding light show as the holy forces fought against each other. The Lightbound woman grit her teeth as the barrier cracked under the pressure of the Vindicator’s strength. She was out of practice, and her former mentor’s conviction was too strong. She knew she was only delaying the inevitable, but she would fight to the bitter end.

And that end grew closer as the barrier shattered. She tried to roll to the side but the blade found purchase in her side, forcing a cry out of her as blue blood oozed out of the wound. She reached out, hands grabbing the Vindicator’s wrists as her hooves kicked out at his face in a final act of defiance.

Argonas stumbled back, but not far. Swift and firm as the kick was, there was an insurmountable difference in stature between the two Vindicators. His face immediately began to swell up at the impact point of Sinafay’s hoof, but that only seemed to infuriate him more. The grinding of his plate gauntlet along the hilt of his crystalline blade rang out sharply as he shifted his grip. He took the sword in his hands, and lined up the piercing point with his former pupil’s chest.

“Through me, the Light’s justice will be served! The mistakes I made in judging the true measures of your character will at long last be corrected!”

He raised his blade, eyes narrowing as he started to bring it down to finish his grim task-- when suddenly a pair of arms wrapped tensely around his waist! From behind him, Grakkar took hold of the Vindicator and heaved him upward and over himself with a mighty roar! The Draenei was caught off-guard, and thrown over onto his back as Grakkar arched and kicked back and away from Sinafay. Argonas came crashing down on his shoulders and the back of his head, driving his chin into his chest plate as the rest of his heavy plated body rolled over the top of him! He was stunned! The wind knocked from him entirely as Grakkar threw him back!

“Get away from my mate, you honorless piece of clefthoof shit!” the Warsong shouted, snarling at Argonas.

He gave little time for the abettor to recover, rushing in to keep up the pressure. As Argonas rolled over and brought himself up to his hands and knees, Grakkar ran up and took hold of his head. Lining it up, he carried his momentum and slammed his knee into the Draenei’s crest! 

*CRACK* 

Argonas rolled over from both the pain, and the force of the impact to his face! But the assault didn’t end there. Grakkar trudged up alongside the writhing and bewildered Draenei. He knelt down scooping up a small handful of dirt to toss into the Vindicator’s face! Then, he just started punching! Once, again, three times! He bloodied his fist against the Draenei’s plated crest, pounding his face over and over with unyielding fury! 

Argonas did what he could to protect himself, but he couldn’t see his assaulter, much less block the barrage of punches! He’d dropped his sword, and couldn’t afford to reach out and feel for it nearby. That would only give the Orc more openings! Instead, he curled in, doing his best to cover his face with one arm as he swatted at Grakkar blindly with the other in hopes of deflecting or softening the next blow coming his way. One wild swipe caught hold of something - the Orc’s forearm. Success! With all his might, he ripped the Orc’s arm towards him, counter attacking with a punch of his own. He felt his plated fist connect, knocking the Orc back and away from him. Only for a moment… but the moment was all he needed.

Bringing his hooves back beneath him, Argonas stood up and quickly brushed the dirt and blood from his face. His luminous eyes set onto Grakkar, who also recuperated from their exchange of blows. For a moment, the two stared one another down.

“The Light… judges you too, Orc filth!” Argonas grunted.

“Fuck your Light!” Grakkar shot back, snarling.

With a furious shout, the Orc rushed at Argonas yet again. The Draenei took up a defensive stance, readying himself as Grakkar drew near. He knew he couldn’t match the Orc’s agility; their fight in Kun-Lai had taught him that, well enough. Instead he dug in his hooves, tail swaying limber behind him to keep his balance. As the Orc took his swing, Argonas brought his forearms up to block the incoming blow. Then the next. Teeth grit as he held firm his position, Argonas bided the Orc’s assault like a statue! He was ready for him, this time. Ready and waiting for his opening. His hands and arms felt raw, jarred and pulsing from the plate gauntlets reverberating each repeated strike. But he held his ground.

Grakkar raged on, throwing punch after punch in the hopes of landing one or two good blows, enough to throw his opponent off of the defensive. But the Vindicator was stoic! Unyielding! The old Orc already felt fatigue setting in. How long had it been since he had a good fight like this? Since settling down with Sinafay, and their young daughter Neelah, he hadn’t been in too many scrapes. His rustiness was taxing him now, exacting the toll of his inactivity. His blows began to slow, punches falling slower and softer against the same blood-smeared plate gloves the Draenei used to defend himself. His knuckles were pulp, each screaming a searing pain from crashing into the inexorable metal again and again. He rotated in a kick to mix it up, hoping to knock the Draenei over, but he might as well have kicked a boulder. One more punch. Another. Until finally the futility of it drained Grakkar entirely. He staggered back, growling.

And that was Argonas’ opening.

The blast of Light illuminated the farmstead, bright as high noon for only a split second. Argonas’ retributive burst was more than enough to knock the weary Orc over. The Vindicator charged, hoofbeats hastened by the Light’s gift to surge the mass of muscle and steel towards Grakkar. He’d barely managed to keep his balance, only for Argonas to slam into him like a rampaging elekk. The Orc felt his body tossed back, and yet he didn’t go far. Argonas gripped him tightly to keep him from sailing too far away from the impact, instead simply slamming him into the ground before him. The Orc’s pained howl was a symphony to the Vindicator. Retribution for so much pain that not only this Orc caused him personally, but all Orcs caused his people! Quickly, he followed up by stomping his hoof into the vile creature’s chest! Still surging with the Light, his plated hoof shoe seared into Grakkar’s flesh, causing him to writhe and moan in pain!

“You have caused enough trouble!” Argonas declared, pressing his hoof down harder. “And now, you will cause no more!”

Grakkar struggled, gripping the Draenei’s leg as he gave all his might to try and push back, but not only did the Draenei significantly outmatch his strength, his plated form weighed a ton! It took all the Orc’s might just to keep the hoof at bay! Even then, he felt his ribs bending and cracking, the hoof melting his skin. It became hard to breath, his cries of agony turning to harsh and hoarse gasps as Argonas pressed harder. He’d been in enough fights to know when he’d lost. And this… this was it. This was the end. 

His eyes widened at the realization, his expression of anger and rage replaced by one of fear. Despair. He had failed. He couldn’t protect his mate. His daughter. After everything he’d done, all the effort and sacrifice he’d made to protect Sinafay, to free her from bondage on Draenor… only for her to die here at the hands of another Light-crazed zealot. He strained a little harder, but nothing he could do would be enough to overpower Argonas. But he couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t! He turned his head, looking over towards the workshop where Sinafay was. He couldn’t see her… and that hurt all the more, unable to lay eyes on his mate one final time. His strength began to wane.

“I’m… sorry…” Grakkar grunted, as his grip finally slipped.

*CRUNCH*

~*~

TO BE CONTINUED...

[yandere-flower]

A Knight’s Desire

Hey so this wasn’t one of my prompts but I was inspired to make this blog due to @yandere-love-love-love, and I was inspired to writing this fantasy/medieval Knight!Hawks x Reader AU through some of their own imagines and also I apologize for the steep decline in quality halfway through this fic as I was pulled away to go have a couple of glasses of wine and a few shots but wanted to finish this tonight SO anyway some smut, non-con, and somnophilia down below enjoy darlings!

Ever vigilant, Sir Hawks was around his princess almost every hour of every day. It was his duty to protect the royal family, her more so than any member. At first, Hawks dreaded the assignment. Watching a princess stay in her castle all day wasn't the kind of action Hawks expected from being a royal guard, but he was honored nonetheless. Over time however, he found himself thanking the gods for allowing him to be responsible for such a woman. Everything about her enticed him. Her beauty, her kindness, that naivete that makes her believe in people. Her little tokens of affections, whether a hand on his shoulder or a mere glance was enough to send Hawks to heaven. He was in bliss, his version of his eternal reward. But this was reality, and his princess was bound to steal the heart of another.

He was a king of some warring nation, someone grand and rich Hawks presumed. The knight was of course heart broken at first, but he knew this day would come. His princess had her role to play, and he is own. Only in his most depraved nights did he wonder what life would be like, if their roles were different. He would touch his cock and pleasure himself at the thought of being able to see her naked form, to watch her moan while he impales her on his length. He found those nights to become more and more common as the day of his beloved’s wedding grew closer.

It was his responsibility to guide her there, to literally hand her to another man. Hawks loved his kingdom, none could deny that. Yet, his bitterness grew as everyone clamored on about the wedding. Every glimpse of white fabric, or talk of marriage drew him up a fucking wall. They didn't know this man, not really. She could be marrying anyone. She should be marrying him. thought the knight in his darkest moments. When the day finally arrive for them to depart, Hawks felt himself shaking at the thought of her no longer being his princess.

He just wanted more time with her.

It was easy to arrange, to separate themselves from the giant royal guardsmen that followed them at every moment. Just a rumor or two about a threat, and him declaring the need for them to lie low in the outskirts of a small town. A cabin, where the loyal knight could protect the soft princess while the rest act as a decoy in town. Everyone trusted Sir Hawks, he was after all the royal family's most trusted knight.

That day Hawks almost felt like another person. Gathering food and wood for his beloved, who waited patiently inside for him. Both of them removed of armor and crests, anything that reminded them of their cursed lives. Hawks wondered if she ever thought about the handsome knight that followed her every move, that would kneel and praise her at her whims. Hawks would tend to the fire, heating the room to a cozy temperature for the night. The two would make idle chatter about things like the beauty of the land, but the mere mention of the royal wedding made Hawks face turn grim. That man doesn't deserve his princess, Hawks would ponder. Oh if fate were different.

He would continue to think along that line of thought, well into the night. She had already fallen asleep, barely able to hold on to consciousness after such a long ride. After a while, her soft groans alerted him, and he went to check on her sleeping form. He could've sworn she was an angel by the way she looked, her chest slowly rising and falling with each breath. She must've been cold, barely covered by her blankets. But the shivers her body made wasn't the focal point of the knights attention. Under the thin fabric of her white dress gown he could see the hard buds of his lovely girl. He knew it was wrong to linger, but the ache in his heart, and manhood, told him there was no harm. It was natural for a man to admire the body of the woman he loved.

He pulled back what little cover she had, revealing her plush thighs that clasped together in exposure to cold, the satin fabric brunched up towards her heat. Hawks had spent so long thinking about her like this, under him and exposed. The pressure within his breeches started to test the mans boundaries, his aching cock begging for attention. Rough fingers worked at unlacing his trousers to reveal the throbbing sword of the knight, weeping over the form of his sleeping princess. With hesitation, Hawks stroked his member as he lovingly swept his fingers against the bare skin of the maiden before him, his knees pressing against the side of her bed. She could awaken any moment, but Hawks told himself this was his final moment with her, and that he deserved this.

He deserved to be with his princess.

The thought echoed in his mind as he continued to stroke his length to the silent whimpers of the slumbering girl, his pace quickening. Even as he crossed a boundary he never dared to venture over before, he felt empty. Surely if the princess had slept this long, she must be in a deep rest. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he felt the grip on himself loosen, and his leg slowly moved to reach over the other side of her sleeping form. There he hovered over her, practically straddling her form with his anguished cock resting so close to her maidenhood. Thoughts were rushing in Hawks head, the man overcome with his desire for the woman. She deserved better, she deserved love and respect from a patient and virtuous man. Despite his cravings, Hawks knew he was that man. Why deny their love because fate was so cruel to thrust them into these roles. From here, they could create a new fate, one of unity and passion. He's always provided for her needs, and he doesn't see why that would change now.

Even with the choir of dark thoughts in his head and the creaking of the bed, she slept soundly, dreaming of her future husband and kingdom. She barely registered the calloused fingers sweeping across her thighs to her breasts, the finger tips pressing into her soft skin. Her trusted knight brought his unworthy hands to her heat and tested the boundaries of his ambition. A soft nudge between her folds and he was rewarded with the slick of her heat, as if she was calling to him. He couldn't help but feel like it was the song of his sweet princess, beckoning him to embrace their love. He blushed at the thought of his charge thinking of him in that way, that perhaps she had loved him all this time. Of course she did, he was hers and hers alone. Without another thought he pushed his fingers into her seeping core, eager to feel the tightness of her embrace. It took everything to hold back the moans from escaping his lips, as he finally felt so close to his desire. But desire isn't so easily sated. If his drowsy princess could sleep through this, he could truly reward his dedication. Indulge himself in his love in a more intimate manner. He began to curl his fingers, hoping to entice some cloudy moans from the girl underneath him. The circling of her clit with his thumb seemed to illicit the response he desired, as her thighs tightened against his hand and a meek whimper littered the air. He could bring her so much pleasure, a true man for the finest of women.

He desire ran rampant through him, his body heated from the excitement for what he was about to do. Hands moved to embrace her thighs, shifting them ever so gently so he could present himself against her sopping core. He gritted his teeth as he brought his cock against the welcoming folds of her heat, pondering just for a second on whether he was doing the just thing before slowly forcing himself into her velvet embrace. He was flooded with emotions, from surprise at her barely shaken form and by the overwhelming feeling of her tight hold. As he fully sheathed himself inside her, her walls clasped around his sword. In that moment Hawks knew they were truly meant to be. Duty, laws, and gods be damned, Hawks would make this woman his. She had owned him for so long, and now he could finally make her his own. The knight no longer cared for delicateness, instead gripping firmly on her hips as he wildly thrusted into her. Moans escaped her lips as she began to stir, but the man paid no mind as he was lost in his own bliss. His thoughts were occupied by the lovely home he'd build his wife, and how he could so easily provide for her. He'd return home with fine silks and treats, welcomed by his fertile young wife, so eagerly awaiting to be ravished by her husband. Even the hands pushing against his chest couldn't deter him from his fantasy, his pride swelling as he got closer and closer to his goal.

The maiden was no match for the formidable mass of man above her who was so aggressively thrusting inside her. She could barely recognize the man that she had trusted for so long. With each rough clash of his hips against her thighs, his cock would hit the deepest caverns of her heat, bringing pleasure to her inexperienced body. Her distraught soon turned to cries of pleasure, as she was overpowered by new sensations the man was giving her. Her hair clinged to her face as her mouth opened with awe. An opportunity raised for the knight, his grip moving from her thigh to pulling her close by her back, all to explore the beauty that is her mouth. As his member thrashed inside of her, his tongue found itself sweeping the walls of her mouth, anything to bring himself closer to her. Her arms would find themselves around his shoulders, confused by their intent. One moment she was scratching to get free and the next she was pulling her knight closer to her.

Hawks felt like a man possessed, astonished by the eager clutch of his love, how she was so clearly accepting his love. To think, the knight would be the first and only man to see the princess like this, writhing underneath him as she came undone on his cock. How he would be the only man to ever pound into her body, to knead her breasts between his fingers as he shoved his tongue down her throat. The depravity of the situation should have hit the man, but the mere thought of being the only man to cum deep inside her, to flood her womb with his thick seed and impregnate his own princess became the fuel that drove him. His cock twitched inside her, impatiently leaking cum from his tip. No one could ever take his princess away from him once she was swollen with his child, and his thrusts became more erratic. With one final deep thrust, the knight released himself in the tight embrace of his lover's womb, hoping that tonight would be the night he would create the fate he so desperately desired.

[unfortunatelyevent]

Last 10 Fics Tag Meme

Rules: Post the first lines of your last ten fics read or written and then tag others to do the same.

so i saw this and i really liked it so i’m doing it

1. Visceral Reactions by STARSdidathing (frostiron)

Tony wasn’t entirely sure how it happened.

One moment, he was chained to a wall in Loki’s latest warehouse lair and the mage was monologing. Tony was delivering his usual snarky one liners in response and Loki was trying not to look amused.

They were enemies just doing their thing and passing time until someone could save Tony (or he could save himself).

The point was, Loki was mid-monologue, throwing in some “mortals are beneath me, I hate you all” crap. Tony was rebutting that Loki was an Asgardian snob and, a total liar because he knew Loki liked a lot of Earth food, clothing and music.

Loki was towering over him and glowering.

And then... then they were kissing.

2. Friends Don’t Let Friends by theorytale (frostiron)

Steve was angling his shield to deflect a blast from Loki's staff, when out of nowhere the Hulk dropped down - splintering the concrete under their feet - and scooped Loki up in one massive green hand. Steve cringed reflexively even as he relaxed his stance. Loki was an evil bastard, sure, but watching Hulk use him like that whack-a-mole game was just… uncomfortable.

Only, Hulk didn't smash.

Loki struggled uselessly, yelling for the Hulk to put him down. It was kind of funny how fast the guy could go from menacing and legitimately frightening to… kind of pitiful. The cognitive dissonance gave Steve a headache.

Hulk lifted Loki up and peered at him intently, brow furrowed. "What puny god's intentions?"

3. Obliviousness Can Lead To True Love by pointnclickbait (science boyfriends)

Bruce swore softly shooting a glance at his watch as he hurried to the next presentation. This conference was turning out to be more hectic than he had expected. He had been hoping to catch a couple of presentations in particular but had already managed to miss some of them. The one he was hoping to attend the most was after the one he was currently running to. He really hoped he didn’t miss it. He paused at the entrance to the conference room to catch his breath before entering. He stepped in and scanned the room before hurrying to the one free space he could see. He settled down just as the speaker took to the floor.

He was so invested in what he was hearing that he forgot to keep an eye on the time and wasn’t aware of it until he was applauding the conclusion of the presentation. He looked at his watch absentmindedly before doing a double take when he saw the time. Swearing loudly this time he tried to squeeze his way through the crowd. By the time he finally escaped the room more precious time had elapsed. Inevitably by the time he reached his destination there was no possible way that he could have gotten inside. He let out a sigh of frustration and scrubbed his hand through his hair. It looked like he wasn’t getting into Tony Stark’s talk after all. He dropped his hand with another sigh. He’d been looking forward to the talk all weekend. It was the reason he had asked to have his presentation given so early, he had been hoping that he wouldn’t have to worry about the talks clashing. He swallowed his disappointment and headed for the dining hall hoping to eat his feelings.

4. The Language of Love by 1derspark (kaysanova)

To be in Jerusalem is to be hard of hearing.

Nicolo learns quickly there was no silence to be had in the city. Even on the way here, there is noise: the breaking of waves against a Genoese ship, the clamor of a thousand knights and horses, their armor clattering like heavy shells on the march to the holy city.

There is never silence. In Jerusalem it’s as if God were screaming, and with every hoarse screech the devil answered.

The battlefield is everywhere, and so is the blood. The sound of death, the sound of pain. Nicolo has dreamed in war cries for years, so this did not bother him. He dreamed in black curls, a dark helm pulled over an angry face, teeth bared and chattering in a language he did not understand but would soon come to hear very frequently.

He meets this man — the one that roars and tramples down swathes of armies beneath his feet — not too long after the fighting starts.

5. Here We Are, Born to be Kings by Purple_ducky00 (iron husbands)

“Your Highness. Lord Stark is here to see you.” Quentin Beck holds up his nose.

Prince James Rhodes rolls his eyes. It’s not like Beck should judge. He was only hired because his family was in serious debt.  Tony is working out of his.

Tony walks in a few minutes later, hair askew. “Wow, Rhodey, your servants hate me. I call it an achievement.”

“They just think it’s ok to judge since their scandals happened long ago enough for people to forget. You don’t deserve this.”

“I probably do.” Tony shrugs. “It doesn’t bother me. Actually, it gives me the chance to ditch my politeness because they already dislike me.”

6. Impossible Things by accioromulus (wolfstar)

Sirius arrives at the party two hours late and covered in snow. Facebook had suggested around thirty people were coming—a number which already threatened to overwhelm James and Lily’s tiny flat. When Sirius arrives at just past ten however, he immediately wishes he’d brought a sledge hammer, if only to make it past the front door. It’s clear that no less than fifty guests had burrowed their way inside. They stand in every corner, filling the narrow hallways and spilling out from every room, their faces vaguely familiar to him, their chattering bright and enthusiastic. Music drifts in from the sitting room, and it takes Sirius a moment to recognize it, bizarrely, as Christmas Carols, despite the New Years Eve decorations strung about the walls. He turns a corner, attempting suave and casual, but instead narrowly avoids a party-goer's over-enthusiastic elbow by crashing into Lily Evans.

7. greater love has no one than this by Jack_R (kaysanova) ((THIS IS A FAVE))

‘I am not going to Rum,’ Yusuf said. ‘They are filthy, depraved degenerates, and I will not bring dishonour on the house of my father by consorting with these Greeks dogs.’

‘I thought your mother was Greek,’ Niccolò said, mildly.

‘Then you should trust me when I say that their entire civilisation is simply beyond saving,’ Yusuf said.

8. fearfully and wonderfully made by bethecowboy (kaysanova)

Yusuf’s blood buzzes so hard through his veins that it takes all his effort to stay still. Every part of him longs for motion, for justice, for a swift end to the constant exhaustion.

He always calms his limbs, his mind, in time for Fajr: his forehead kisses the ground as the new sun soaks the sand in deep russet oranges. Light glints of the breastplates of dead Christians; it caresses the faces of his fallen brothers who had died defending the outer wall.

9. Genus and Species by 27dragons, tisfan (winteriron)

When Bucky opened his eyes, all he could see was green in all directions. At first he thought that was just the remainder of the Time Stone’s power. Thanos had done… something. No one quite knew what because the battle had been so confusing; the Power Stone blasting purple rays everywhere, the Space Stone moving people out of position, lord only knew what was happening with the Reality Stone. And then there had been a great, green wave of energy--

“Ug,” said someone nearby. It took Bucky a moment to clear his thoughts enough to identify it: Tony. “I feel like a Pride parade just swallowed me whole and then puked me out.” A pause. “Why are we in a jungle?”

10. Through The Years by hawkbucks (winteriron)

Tony is 8 and Natasha is 12 when Tony brings Natasha home for the first time.

“Mamma!” he brightly exclaims as soon as Maria opens the door, holding up one of his hands that is intertwined with one of Natasha’s. “This is Natasha! She helped me while I was walkin’ home from school today.” Before Maria can say anything, Tony is already rushing past her, dragging his newfound friend into the living room with him. He leads her to the rather lavish, cream-colored couch that’s bigger than necessary and tells her to sit down, letting go of her hand.

“Some’a the kids at school were followin’ me and sayin’ bad things to me,” Tony starts to explain as he takes off his patent leather shoes, remembering what his mother said about tracking dirt into the house. “But Natasha made ‘em go away. Then she said she’d keep walkin’ with me so that I’d get home all safe. She was really awesome!”

and that’s that, i have to say that i absolutelly love and rec all of these!

ok i’m tagging: @natyhunter @atypical-snowman @simplyclockwork @camp-half-dumbass and whoever wants!!! (also everyone i tagged please don’t feel obligated!!!)

[vagrantblvrd]

Carve It in Stone (1/1)

Summary: Ryan’s gotten sloppy since Trevor’s been dead.

Notes: Prompt fill for Anon who wanted to see Red Hood Trevor from my Batman AU idea???

(Read on AO3)

Ryan’s gotten sloppy since Trevor’s been dead.

Trevor can’t tell if Ryan’s doing it on purpose, daring all of Gotham to realize he’s not joking when he flashes that charming little smile of his and laughs that annoying idiot laugh.

Winks at the camera – always one of those around him, he’s a Haywood after all – and claims he really is the Batman, why are you all laughing?

There are so many – so fucking many – video and audio clips from interviews or press conferences surrounding some crisis or other where he just up and confesses.

Over and over again, with all these jokes and ha, ha, ha, and a little put out that no one ever seems to believe him.

Not that anyone would consider Richie-rich Ryan James Haywood could be capable of a fraction of the things the Batman’s done. (Most think he can’t even tie his own damn shoes without help.)

And when he’s not baiting the press, all of Gotham, he’s just.

Careless.

So many clues he leaves behind about Batman’s identity, why it’s almost like he wants to get caught.

“Idiot,” Trevor says, little twinge of something that might have been fondness once upon a time.

Before Joker and his crowbar, glaring red numbers counting down and everything that followed after. (The waters of the Pit burning, searing, remaking him into whatever he is now.)

Now -

It feels like bitterness, resentment. This flare of anger as Trevor looks up and sees all the photos pinned to the wall of his safehouse.

Batman and Robin swinging over the rooftops of Gotham like everything before it didn’t matter. Like Ryan didn’t learn a damn thing when Trevor died. Making the same mistakes over and over again, and someone needs to do something about that, don’t they.

So.

Better get to it.

========

The new Robin is fast, Trevor will give him that.

Quick little bastard and clever about it, flips and rolls and flares of his cape – bright flash of color against Gotham’s gloom – and the usual thugs and bruisers always, always go for it.

Take the bait and turn and aim, bang, bang, bang always a step behind because again, the kid’s fast.

Smart-mouthed too, even if he’s not quite up to par with Jeremy and his comedic timing. Snappy one-liners and zings.

Trevor watches it all from a nearby rooftop. Robin up against a couple of goons who tried mugging some little old lady out waling her ankle biter of a dog.

Sound of his bo staff cracking against a jaw, the strangled bellow and sound of a grown man falling to his knees in pain. Stunned as he cradles what’s sure to be a fracture of some sort and that’s interesting, isn’t it, when Ryan had come down so hard on Trevor that one time.

Robin backpedals as the second thug thunders towards him, big and imposing and furious after seeing his friend go down.

Rolls out of the way of a booted foot aimed at his kneecap – flash and whirl of his cape – stylized shuriken flying out from behind it as he buys himself a little time, some space. Meaty sound of one of them embedding itself in the thug’s arm and a snarl coming from him like a wounded dog.

“You fucker!”

Trevor snorts, taps the barrel of his gun against his leg as Robin shoots the thug a look – offended, almost – and then he’s moving forward.

Bo snapping out as the thug raises his gun, blood dripping from his arm, and smacks it away like an afterthought. Follows up with another strike of his bo – glancing hit – and pursues the thug who’s the one trying to retreat now.

Snapping and snarling and hopelessly outclassed, he never sees the kick aimed at his jaw, too focused on the damn bo staff Robin uses as a distraction. Flash and spin, streetlights catching off the gleaming metal and Robin’s a vicious bastard too, it seems.

Stands over the thug for a long moment, and prods him to make sure he’s not feigning unconsciousness before he gets out the zip ties.

It would be easy, Trevor knows, to teach him a lesson right now.

Drop down from his vantage spot and drive the point home with his fists, heel of his boot. Wing the little bastard with a bullet from his gun. Ooh, or maybe he could use one of the knives Talia gifted him with as a parting gift he hasn’t had the chance to use just yet.

But.

It’s too soon.

Ryan doesn’t even know there’s a new player in town yet.

Just goes about business as usual, punching and kicking (occasionally gadgeting) the bad guys into groaning piles of bruised and battered and sending them back to Blackgate or Arkham as the situation warrants.

Goes off to play with the Justice League when there’s a major crisis every so often.

Baits the press with that running gag about being Batman – it’s appalling, really, how he still gets away with that – and thinks his little world here is safe.

Well.

Safe as it could be, given Gotham’s very nature.

Thinks he’s got it all under control, has thought up every possibly scenario and planned accordingly with all those contingency plans of his.

Paranoid as all hell and still, Trevor knows, still so damned blind.

“Next time,” Trevor says, tossing off a little salute to Gotham’s little songbird as he heads off to really get things rolling.

========

Black Mask is easy.

Smarter than most, sure, but when it comes down to it he’s still predictable.

Ego to him because he’s the Black Mask.

Everyone in Gotham knows who he is, what he does to those who make an enemy of him, and it’s made him...not quite complacent, but he’s certainly lost whatever edge got him where he is today.

Makes it easy for Trevor to disrupt his operations, swing his attention away from all his goals and ambitions and this new figure in the shiny metal helmet. (Helmet, hood, it’s all semantics, isn’t it?)

Has him focusing on Trevor and the way he’s dismantling everything he’s built up on the bones of others. (Bone and flesh and blood, human suffering and this dark spark Trevor gets now. Has buried deep in him too thanks to the Pit and what it gave him, curled in the back of his mind and whispering to him always.)

And Ryan? He’s just as easy.

Notices the way Black Mask is just so agitated these days, fending off attacks and so, so angry at this new figure looking to make an example of him and his.

Throwing money and every available body he has at Trevor to make him go away, and Ryan just has to stick his nose into things. Needs to know what’s going on to cause Black Mask’s little breakdown-in-progress.

Perfect.

========

“Look at you,” Trevor says, chuckles at the way Ryan’s glaring at him. “New suit?”

More heavily armored than the one he wore when it was Trevor at his side all those years ago.

Meaner looking.

Voices drift up to them, yelling and shouting and all sorts of commotion.

Ryan’s silent.

Still.

Stoic is the word that comes to mind.

Standing across the roof from Trevor in all his Battish glory, bit of a breeze playing with the hem of his cape. (Gotham is almost as dramatic as certain residents.)

All kinds of tech and gadgets on him because he’s the Batman, and that’s part of his shtick. Almost certainly recording their conversation to analyze once he gets back to that little clubhouse of his under the manor.

Trevor hums, nods his head because yes, yes, still the same stubborn bastard as always, Ryan.

Childhood trauma and far too much money, and anyone else would be dead by now if they’d tried the same thing as the idiot before him.

Traveling the world to train, hone his body and mind into this weapon to combat the sort of depraved monsters who left him an orphan.

Oh, he would never think of it like that.

Would insist it’s a noble endeavor he set off on all those years before, long before Trevor was even born. That he’s doing it to protect the people of Gotham, prevent the same from happening to them. (The dark knight the press and so many others refer to him as, and still so blind.)

Takes in orphans and urchins, gives them a home and a purpose.

A suit and a cape and utility belt with all the latest gadgets, and if they’re lucky, if they’re good, they get to live. If not...well.

You get things like Trevor, don’t you.

All twisted up inside, wrong in all the right ways. (Or perhaps it’s the other way around?)

However you want to look at it, you get something like Trevor, and when you put him back in a city like Gotham with people like Ryan and all his mistakes, it’s not going to be a pretty thing.

No, not pretty at all.

Trevor snorts, turning to look down at the burning warehouse below them as emergency crews scramble to contain the fire.

Someone’s screaming.

One of Black Mask’s men suffering from nasty third-degree burns on top of what Trevor did to him to get the answers he needed.

Ryan interfered before Trevor could put the poor bastard out of his misery, more’s the pity.

He’ll die slow now. Pain eased by whatever drugs they pump into him, but Trevor and Ryan both know he won’t make it through the night.

Thank God Ryan saved the man from a bullet to the head only to drag out his death longer than it needs to be.

(Such is mercy..)

“Good talk,” Trevor says, suddenly in no mood to deal with Ryan or his codes, his morals and ethics and goddamned high horse right now. “I’m sure we’ll be doing this again.”

He keeps his voice light, playful, lets the voice modulator do its job to add another layer of complication to things for Ryan, and pulls a small remote out of his jacket pocket.

Holds it up for Ryan to see, waggles it a little, thumb hovering over the big red button.

Watches as Ryan finally reacts, starts to move, but Trevor’s just that tiniest bit faster.

Presses the button and gone in the moment it takes Ryan to decide on an action, the small charges he set earlier going off further down the street.

Big flashy things meant as distractions because Trevor’s a monster, yes, but his grudge isn’t against Gotham’s emergency crews.

Still, Ryan doesn’t know that yet, and he goes for the bait.

Spends a split-second too long agonizing over whether to pursue Trevor before a secondary explosion goes off and the choice is made for him.

Noble endeavors and Duty, and Ryan’s still so predictable.

========

The thing that absolutely kills Trevor about all of this is how stupid Ryan is.

“You get what I mean, don’t you?”

Robin is watching Trevor like he thinks Trevor’s a lunatic.

He’s not wrong, so Trevor lets him have that one.

But really.

Ryan’s goes around playing the role of Ryan Haywood, richie-rich and possibly stupidest man alive just so no one will twig to the fact he’s also Batman.

Big scary asshole in a suit and cape and all his little gadgets and smart as he is, he’s so damn stupid.

“Joker’s still out there!” Trevor yells, and okay that, that is what’s at the heart of this. “That bastard is still out there killing people and what does Batman do about it?”

Fights him again and again and again, just to send him back to Arkham until the next time he breaks out to start the cycle over.

And it’s not just Joker, it’s every other asshole like him.

It never ends because Ryan is too blinded by all his ideals and morals, his ethics.

Privilege.

Joker is out there right now, some new twisted plot playing out while Ryan runs himself ragged trying to stop him. So, so stupid and look what Trevor found while Ryan’s attention is elsewhere?

Little (not so little) Robin all on his lonesome and easy pickings.

Trevor’s not angry at Ryan for not saving him from Joker in time.

No.

That’s not what this is about. It’s never been what it’s about. (Even if there’s some small part of him that wonders why. What he did wrong that Ryan didn’t save him when he kills himself for complete strangers night after night, but he knows, doesn’t he. Trevor was never enough, and that’s fine. It is.)

Ryan let the Joker live.

Put him back in Arkham and just went on like that bastard hadn’t taught him a valuable lesson by killing Trevor.

Went and got himself a new Robin, even.

Bright young man and potential to him Ryan’s sure to ruin before long.

Feisty.

Put up quite the fight when Trevor found him, but Trevor’s been at this longer. (Trained with assassins, and hadn’t that been an eye-opener.)

Plays dirtier than the Batman’s good little sidekick.

Fights mean and nasty, plays for keeps.

“We don’t kill,” Robin says, parrots Batman’s line as though Trevor’s never heard it before, like he doesn’t know.

Trevor laughs, but there’s nothing like amusement in it.

“Oh, I know all about that,” he says, because Ryan’s an idiot.

So here, Ryan, have a little refresher while you’re gallivanting about being a hero.

Robin’s all trussed up at the moment, and while Trevor knows it’s only a matter of time before he frees himself -

“Might want to rethink your career path,” Trevor says, and shoots him.

He sees Robin’s eyes widen in the moment before he fires, and it’s not personal this, not really.

It’s Ryan and his choices, the mistakes he never learns from. (Tough love, minus the love.)

Robin sags in his chains – because Gotham and its Drama, presentation - and Trevor goes over to check on him.

Purses his lips when he sees his suit did its job in stopping the bullet. The impact was a doozy this close, though, wasn’t it. Knocked him back, head cracking against the wall he’s bound to, put him out like a light. (Easy.)

Trevor pats his cheek, smiles to cover up the uneasiness he feels seeing a Robin like this, echoes of a dream or something along those lines.

(A living nightmare and a crowbar bearing down on him, Joker’s grating laughter and pain bleeding into everything.)

A perimeter alarm goes off, and Trevor glances over at the laptop he has set up. Cobbled together warning system to let him know Ryan finally noticed Robin had gone silent on him, came to investigate.

Watches Gotham’s hero miss every damn camera he placed in his haste and wants to laugh because lord knows Trevor always got an earful about that kind of mistake during his time as Robin.

“Oh, Ryan,” he sighs. “No gold star for you.”

Still.

Best not be around when Ryan makes it past all the traps and other fun things Trevor left out for him.

Let the bastard stew a little longer once he gets Robin back.

Wonder why the Red Hood bothered with any of this, why he didn’t just kill Robin while he had the chance. (Why, why, why, and no answers to any of it, not yet.)

Trevor shoots the laptop, lips stretching into a thin smile because Ryan’s going to have a hell of a time getting anything out of it now.

Not impossible, because he has all his gadgets and tech wizardry at his beck and call – has Oracle – but it’s going to cost him time. Effort. Have him working overtime to pull anything useful out of what’s on the hard drive when Trevor’s never been that stupid.

Leaving him bread crumbs that Ryan will have to work for if he wants to find out what the Red Hood’s planning.

“Good luck with that one, Ryan,” Trevor says as he turns to leave because it’s going to be one hell of a ride.

[nezzfiction]

ENMY Chapter 79 - Cloak and Dagger (Part Two)

Chapter Synopsis: As Yang and Emerald discover the truth behind Remnant, the shadow of Salem’s Grimm army looms close to Vacuo. The Kingdom that has remained passive, now enters the stage of the Second Great War.

Series Synopsis: Team RWBY is disbanded, and Yang must find herself new allies. For her, that might very well be yesterday’s enemies. Joining up with the likes of Emerald, Mercury, and Neo, the four will comprise Team Enemy(ENMY).

Links to read the series: Ao3 or FF.net

Or hit the jump below

.

Cloak and Dagger (Part Two)

.

“Why?”

That’s what they asked me.

It’s what I asked, too.

But when I posed myself that question, I got an answer I didn’t expect.

It’s amazing how easily it came.

I could only think:

“How could it have been anyone else?”

My only regret is that we didn’t realize our feelings sooner.

.

.

Yang closed Summer’s diary with a breathless sigh.

She just finished reading the recount of how her two mothers came to be. They were teammates, best friends… then after a time, enemies.

After Raven changed sides, there was no end to the reasons why Summer should have severed ties with her.

Even so…

“How could it have been anyone else?”

Yang echoed the words Summer spoke so long ago.

It touched on something, a crack in her heart that had been widening for months. Her mother’s words set something free. Her mind was made. Her doubts dispelled and her fate was decided. Yang wanted to return to Vacuo as soon as possible.

“We have to get back to Vacuo as soon as possible!” Emerald yelled, as she and Professor Oobleck ran into the private reading room.

“What’s up?” Yang asked.

“Mercury just sent me an encrypted text. Salem’s made her move on Vacuo.”

“Crap!”

The three made their way to the upper floors of the Tower. They ran past several piles of books, knocking them over without a second thought. It was imperative they find Papyrus.

“How bad is it?” Yang asked.

“Don’t know. Merc didn’t exactly send me pics. But apparently, it’s a gigantic army of Grimm.”

“Like, Battle of Dracul?”

“Probably bigger, MUCH bigger.”

“And Vacuo still has their Cuckoo problem.”

“Yup! Which is why, we need to haul our ass back, like, yesterday!”

“But that’ll take days!!!”

“You think I don’t know that?!”

They stopped at the top floor and spotted the record keeper furiously writing at a study table. Oobleck picked up the latest page freshly written and read it aloud.

“’Ferocious beasts bore hungry maws at what they thought was dinner! But lo’! They were caught unawares by what they thought was easy prey, was in fact an esteemed Huntsman!’”

“Is that… Professor Port?” Yang pointed curiously at the document.

“Yes, it appears Papyrus is recording the current events via Peter’s diary entries!”

“Oh! I get it! So, you guys arranged this beforehand so you could keep tabs on current events!”

“No, not at all. Peter just likes to write in his diary constantly.”

“In the middle of battle?!”

“Yes. He’s very good at keeping accounts of his exploits. I often wish I had his ability to put pen to paper, irregardless of the harrowing situation!”

“Uh…huh.”

The three started pouring over the notes Papyrus previously wrote. In it, they found bits and details between Professor Port’s grandeur embellishments, that painted a picture of the situation.

After Temujin threw the first “gauntlet”, the forces of Grimm and Vacuo clashed. Although the Kingdom’s military had never faced such a sizable host of monsters, the battle seemed to be go in their favor. Vacuo’s warriors were well-versed in dealing with the varied species of Grimm. They also demonstrated an organization that rivaled the most disciplined armies.

“Hm…” Emerald glared at the most recently recorded books. “The librarian doesn’t just record Vacuo’s side either. Take a peek,” she shoved a blank covered tome in Yang’s hands. “Inna and Bean are here, too.”

Yang skimmed through the information like a starved bibliophile.

“Bean’s commanding the armies… He wants to hunt me down… Adam’s here too… Someone named Jupiter Black? Isn’t that—”

“Mercury’s cousin and president of the douchebag assassin society.”

“This is… This is Blake’s diary.”

“Yup!” Emerald shouted, while picking up another book. “With any luck, we can figure out what the other side is planning. Meanwhile, the Professor can keep a pulse on how the battle is going.”

“But we need to get back there now!”

“One problem at a time, Yang! You said it yourself, it’ll take days to get back! We need to play the smart game here. If we find something crucial, our messages might do more help than us actually being there.”

Yang heard the reason in Emerald’s argument and agreed. But somewhere deep down, all she could worry about was Neo. She knew her partner could handle herself, but it wasn’t enough to abate her fears. The fact that they were separated by such a distance, in such a dangerous time, drove her mind to conjure things she never wanted to see.

Yang watched Emerald shuffle through another mound of papers in frustration. Her leader wasn’t as composed as her words let on. No doubt, Emerald was just as concerned about Mercury.

“As soon as we find what Salem’s planning, we’re out of here!” Emerald shouted without looking at her.

“Yeah. Yeah, alright!”

Yang dove back into the haystack of information with gusto.

Just be alright, Neo.

Please, be alright.

.

X  X X  X  X

.

Neo threw her parasol into a row of Grimm, corkscrewing them all through the chest cavity. With a wave of her hand, her weapon swooped into a u-turn and flew safely back to her hands. She opened the umbrella to let out a small spray of black blood, causing her to lick her lips with a depraved look.

She gave a small inward thank you to Ruby, who made a few upgrades to her weapon.

Mercury soared above her with a number of Vacuo’s airborne fighters trailing behind. After activating his Semblance, he kicked up a sandstorm in the middle of Salem’s army. Rough debris and jagged rock wore away at the more durable species of Grimm, while lighter ones were caught up in the tornado.

Throughout the battlefield, soldiers exercised their specialized roles. If they fulfilled a long-distance position, they fought safely from the backlines. The more hands-on of the fighters took to the vanguard to face the brunt of their opposition. Some fought together, some separate. And then, there were berserkers, who traversed wildly into the chaos of being surrounded by enemies.

Chain Nai’s blue ringed skin glowed with a dark sea hue, as he clamped a Jester’s hyena mouth between his elbow and knee. The force caused the front half of the skull to cave, but it was the warrior’s poisonous Semblance that put the creature to death.

Not too far away, a shining warrior faced a unit of Moredread knights five v. one. The monsters boasted a heavily reinforced armor composed of dense bone. Their medieval style appearance added with the giant buster blade they hefted overhead, made for daunting figures. Yet the lone fighter stood, unfazed by the challenge.

When their swords fell like a waterfall of guillotines, the man bat them away like they were sheets of cardboard. The last one, he caught in a single, gold and black gloved hand.

“Compared to Qrow and Athos, you might as well be using toy swords,” Taiyang taunted.

With a flick of his wrist, the Moredread he caught the sword of, was twisted into the air. With his free hand, he loosed a soft palm strike on the Grimm’s bony helm. The Aura infused into the technique transposed through the armor and exploded within the knight’s vulnerable brain matter. Before the corpse fell and the other four Moredread could react, Taiyang was on them.

His fingers became pointed to align with his forearm. An upward thrust sent a spear-like hand under one of the Grimm’s armpits, where the armor was weakest. The ligaments connecting the Moredread’s limb tore like tissue paper.

With Taiyang’s hands still formed in a straight edge, he sent a chopping fist through the neck of two others.

The sword knight Grimm were classified as A-Class Grimm individually. But against a fighter of their complete counter and high caliber, five had fallen within mere moments.

Bean saw through the eyes of the dying Grimm and decided to take a different approach. His army was never meant to fight on even ground. They were meant to abuse their numbers andabuse their numbers he did.

The young boy directed a pack of fast moving Jesters Taiyang’s way and a Deathstalker towards his back. He didn’t expect them to win, but sap away at the martial artist’s stamina.

Just when they reached combat distance, a rain of icy shards fell on the area, including on the man himself. Though, the attack only seemed to shatter against Taiyang’s now tattooed skin.

“Huh. Will Tai take no offense to that?” Minerva asked from a fair distance.

“He’s used to it,” Glynda answered, before casting another icy hailstorm over a different area. “Is it me, or is this battle faring a little too easily?”

“I am of the same mind. Salem has yet to play any of her proverbial trump cards.”

“Our casualties are also low, not that I’m complaining.” Glynda pushed up her glasses before manipulating a small herd of stampeding Goliaths and diverting their charge into its allies. “The longer this battle goes on, the more disadvantageous our position.”

“Agreed. What do you suggest?”

“I’ve been trying to discern where the commander of this army is located.”

Another group of Grimm rushed their position, but Glynda levitated them into the air, while Minerva waved her wand to cause an explosion, incinerating them into pieces.

“Going by the way the Grimm are directed, I can only assume whoever is in control, is commanding them from there!” Glynda pointed her riding crop.

Minerva paid attention to the direction and saw a number of Grimm waiting on standby. Some would now and then, breakaway for a maneuver, but were swiftly replaced. The behavior was almost unnoticeable in all the chaos.

“So, we will have our troops advance there.”

“No,” Glynda shook her head. “There’s too much ground to cover and they’ll see us approaching almost immediately. If we can take them by surprise, we stand a chance at ending this battle prematurely.”

“…I’m not fond of the tone your suggestion is taking…”

“My Magic has a wide area of effect. If I can get close enough, I can trap them in the middle of it.”

“That is a fool’s gambit, Glynda.”

“Yes, but it’s better than waiting until Salem is ready to activate the Cuckoos.”

“…”

“There’s no other way!”

“Wait!”

Without another second, Glynda bolted for the enemy commander. She ducked and rolled between her enemies as well as her allies. Short-ranged Magic darts repelled any hostile Grimm out of her way. The Huntress made rapid progress towards her destination, but eventually, the beasts around her took notice.

They swarmed from the land and sky. Flying Preyer Mantis Grimm swept low with their scythe-like forelegs. Some of the Moredread lumbered in her direction in a joust. Glynda cast a shield around her, but it was quickly being whittled away.

If she could only make it a few more meters, she knew she could invoke a storm large enough to encompass the commander’s surroundings. She didn’t even need to live to maintain the spell to its end. Just starting the incantation would be enough. Just emptying her Aura for all its worth would be enough.

Then, she heard her barrier break and her riding crop shorted like a bad fuse. Glynda didn’t know where it broke from, there were too many possible angles. She could recast it, but by that time, it would be too late.

As a Jester pounced from behind her back, a pair of fingers thrust into its eye sockets. The hand gripped the top of its cranium and swung it into another pack of hyenas, knocking them over like bowling pins.

The man body-blocked Glynda from the attacks coming from outside her peripheries. His diamond hard skin deflected any harm and reflected the impact of others. Claws and fangs shattered on contact with the hard surface.

“This is a bit reckless for you, don’t you think?!” Taiyang shouted.

“I knew you would be there,” Glynda replied.

“Yeah, well, you know I can’t keep this up forever!”

“I know, Tai. But I also know you can keep it up for long enough.”

“It’s tough being reliable,” he said, with a smugness trying to hide the strain on his body.

“Hmhmhm!” Glynda chuckled in a slightly flirtatious way.

She refocused on the task at hand and saw the assumed Grimm commander and its escorts retreating back. But by now, it was already too late. She was well within the optimum range.

Glynda stabbed her riding crop to the sky like a divine sword. Clouds formed to her summons. A large violet insignia pulsated as the weather became shaded with a low rumble. Bright veins of light flashed within the swirling veil like outlining blood vessels.

Not another second passed before pillars of pure, electric destruction descended on Salem’s army. They traced the ground, gorging through the earth like a scroll saw. All the Grimm the light touched were instantly burned into a crisp.

Glynda was elated at the success, but stopped herself from getting too carried away. She dealt a heavy blow by conjuring the thunderstorm so deep into enemy lines, but that was not the main purpose of her stratagem. She watched the other Grimm outside the storm to see if her gamble paid off.

There was no change at first and it made her heart freeze up. But sure enough, the creatures gradually lost a sense of focus. A few breaths later and they began to scatter in retreat. Countless legs trampled and stumbled over each other, while Vacuo warriors pressed forward to slay any stragglers.

Glynda’s knees gave out, and she sat in a manner that betrayed her usual stringent demeanor.

“Wow…”

She turned a sly eye to the awestruck Taiyang.

“What are you so surprised about?” Glynda asked.

“I sometimes forget how scary you can be.”

“Really?”

“It doesn’t happen a lot, cause you know, you’re constantly reminding everyone. But times like this really drive it home.”

“I’m flattered.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’re right. I’m not.”

“Issss this a bad time to say, I think I’m in lo—”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Tai.”

Glynda got to her feet and started making her way back to Minerva.

“Or else I’m liable to cast a second thunderstorm.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

At the top floor of the Tower, Professor Oobleck set down the latest copy of Professor Port’s diary entry with a serious look.

“It appears, thanks to some brave heroics on Glynda’s part, the battle of Vacuo has reached premature conclusions.”

Emerald breathed a groaning sigh of relief before falling on top a nearby pile of books. She even thought about taking a nap, before noticing Oobleck’s tenseness unchanged.

“…? Okay, did I miss something, or did you just say the battle was over?”

“I did,” he replied.

“So, are you one of those people with resting angry face or…”

“Salem did not appear on the battlefield, nor did any of her named associates, save the individual Glynda forced to withdraw. The majority of the opposition Vacuo waged battle with were Grimm, and not the Nightmare Class we know to have joined her fold.”

“Probably conserving them. This was only the first fight.”

“A plausible theory.”

“Yeah! So, no time to waste, Prof. We need to blow this joint, not that I don’t love the smell of old books and ancient-lost-forgotten-knowledge.”

“You don’t have to be sarcastic.”

“Who’s being sarcastic? I’d spend my whole life here if I could. Think I might ask Masa to build me one of these. But we’re on a time crunch and we’ve got a long ass drive ahead of us. Hey, punchy! That means you, too!”

Emerald strode over to Yang sitting cross-legged, and kicked her boot. Though, the kick registered, the girl seemed completely immersed in what she was reading.

“What? Find something new in your mom’s diary?”

“No… Something’s off,” Yang shook her head. “Blake, or well, Salem, keeps talking about this ‘Cloak and Dagger’ plan. She has to know we’re at this Tower, right? I mean, she didn’t see us at the battle, she’s gotta have some idea.”

“Yeah, that tracks. What are you getting at?”

“She’s probably keeping watch of whatever everyone’s putting on message, but I’ve been piecing together the clues we do have. Some texts between Bean and Jupiter Black, along with some other assassins the guy brought along.”

“And?”

“They don’t line up. The timing for their plan sounded like it was set for the battle. They kept sending updates to each other. ‘Are you in position?’, ‘Yes’, that kind of thing.”

“It could be nothing…” Emerald felt paranoia creep in. “But when is it ever nothing with Salem?”

The girl paced the room a bit. Professor Oobleck also had his own doubts prior to Yang’s. Emerald started biting her thumbnail as she walked in circles. Now, she was sure something was wrong.

Salem’s associates.

The first battle lost.

A battle lost prematurely?

Did they throw the fight on purpose?

‘Cloak and Dagger’.

Emerald stopped in her step.

“Shit…”

“What? Did you figure it out?” Yang jumped.

“It’s in the stupid name! Salem’s such a pompous asshole! But, shit. We’re the only ones who know about it, and we’re too far away to make a difference!!!” Emerald shouted, while pulling out her scroll and typing as fast as she could.

“What is it, Em?!”

“Cloak and Dagger, Yang! If that whole fight was the cloak…”

Yang’s eyes widened with realization.

“Where’s the dagger?”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

As Temujin made her way back into the throne room with tired steps, she was helped by Mouse and Knives Rakis into her seat.

“Hoh hoh,” she planted herself with a shamble. “I really am getting old. Hardly lifted a finger and all these bones start creaking like thin leaf plywood.”

“I wouldn’t really call firing a couple airships and spears the size of most people ‘hardly lifting a finger’,” Mouse smirked.

“Oh, then you should have seen me back in the day. Riding my motorcycle into battle with hell’s fury at my beck and call. It would’ve made today’s display look shameful in comparison.”

“You’re still plenty strong.”

“Peh!” Temujin brushed it off. “No, most definitely not strong. But perhaps a tad shrewder in my age. I mostly get you youngsters to fight my battles for me now—to my regret.”

At that moment, Knives brought a freshly steaming cup of tea and set it on Temujin’s arm rest. The elder was about to drink it, before she pulled back.

“Knives, this is much too hot. Can’t you bring me a cooler cup?”

The two siblings gave a momentary pause.

“A gentle reminder for you to slow down and take your time,” Knives replied smoothly.

“Take any more time and I might right die of old age.”

“Enough of that. For now, Mouse and I will handle the logistics of the aftermath. We’ll report when everything is summarized.”

“We suffered very little casualties…”

“Yes, we did.”

“…That doesn’t sit well. Victory never comes so easily.”

She stared into the sibling’s pairs of silver eyes and saw they reflected something far-off in the distance. Not just the distance, but also maybe the future.

“Be vigilant, children. And Knives, thank you for attending to the other matter.”

“Of course. Please, take this time to enjoy your tea.”

With Knives’ parting words, the siblings left the room. Temujin was left to stare at her tea cup with her lower lip sticking out in a sort of pout.

“How am I supposed to enjoy it if I can’t drink it?”

The drink still had a thick haze of steam swirling from its surface…

—until the steam suddenly wavered.

…

“Ah… I really am getting old.” Temujin gripped her cane tighter. “To think I didn’t notice an assassin until they came this close.”

From an open window, Vulcan Black leapt in with his giant maul in hand. The head of his hammer torched with the flame and lava of a volcanic eruption. A heavy cloud of billowing smolder trailed from his downward swing.

“Cheeky brat.”

Temujin tapped her cane once against the stone floor and activated her “territory”. Vulcan was less than five paces away from letting his hammer fall, when his body faltered in midair. The assassin’s large stature then, crumbled as if under its own weight. He immediately started choking for air as his vision blurred. It was as if the atmosphere itself was trying to kill him, rejecting him like a bacterial infection.

Temujin stood from her seat and bade her teacup one last glance.

She thought about how the Rakis twins were acting, and how unusual Knives was about bringing her a drink much hotter than her usual brew. It was a subtle ploy to warn her.

They must have used their Semblance to foresee this.

No wonder she gave me an especially steaming cup.

How nice it is to have such thoughtful children…

Temujin made her slow way to Vulcan, who was nearing unconsciousness.

“Huh. Never met an assassin as bulky as you. In my prime days, I have no doubt we would have enjoyed a grand battle. Alas, I can’t really act that way anymore. My days of fighting head on, facing my foe blow for blow!” she pumped her fists, then went into a tired lament. “Long past, I’m afraid. I’ve had to resort to much shrewder methods with my seniority.”

Vulcan concentrated all his focus into moving his arm. It reached for his trusty maul that fell just a few millimeters from his outstretched fingers. He could almost touch it, when Temujin’s foot rested on his knuckles.

“Still haven’t given up on killing me! My respects!”

Vulcan was practically frothing at the mouth. Nothing but his rage and anguish kept him alive.

“It was sore luck you were contracted to kill me. I doubt there’s ever a worst target in all of Remnant for assassinations than myself.”

The giant assassin was now shaking uncontrollably.

“Well, may you have peaceful passage into the afterlife knowing you were defeated by the strongest Aura Skill practitioner to ever exist.”

At some point, Vulcan stopped resisting. Something of a quiet acceptance started to seep into his soul.

“My apologies, young pup. But this is death.”

Temujin honed her cane to a sharpness with Aura Skill, before plunging it swiftly through Vulcan’s back. The blow came quick and merciful and painless.

A heavy silence filled the chamber.

“The greatest shame for an assassin having failed their mission, is a corpse left behind. I shall endeavor to preserve your dignity as much as possible. An unmarked grave in the middle of the dunes, where no one will disturb you or uncover you. I suppose I owe you that much for my disgraceful methods.”

Temujin tore down one of the large tapestries hanging from the walls and threw it over Vulcan’s corpse.

“Now, that I think of it, I never asked your name.”

“I suppose that too is a preservation of dignity for an assassin.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

 A far distance away, three figures laid on their bellies, peeking just barely over the crest of a tall sand dune.

“Curious…Very curious…” one of them muttered behind his intricately silver designed magnifying glass.

Bean and Inna, who watched the same scene play out turned to him with expectation.

“You’ve discovered the method Temujin employed against Vulcan?” Bean asked.

“You didn’t?” the man asked back.

“Reason unclear. Vulcan… collapsed without any point of contact or visible action. Your theory is required, Professor Moriarty.”

“Elementary, young man. But I must say, her Semblance is more flexible than I would have guessed. But these eyes see, this brain knows,” the man tapped his temple. “My Semblance learns all secrets.”

“Explanation required,” Bean repeated.

Moriarty gave a dark chuckle

“The old bat used her Warsmith’s Semblance to ‘weaponize’ her surroundings. Atmospheric pressure, temperature, I’d even include the gravity—all of it came under her control. She can make her environment literally a weapon. How fascinating.”

The young boy went into silent shock before speaking again.

“Conclusion drawn: close combat deemed impossible. Only viable avenue is long-range methods.”

“It’ll be tough to catch an Aura Skill user like Temujin from long-range,” Inna added her input. “But if anyone can do it, I can.”

The girl nodded her consent, but Moriarty gave them both a dismissive look. He stroked his thick broom mustache in thought.

“Not necessarily. There appears to be a weakness… For now, we should regroup and report to Salem. Our other cohorts should be carrying with Dagger Phase as we speak.”

“…Agreed,” Bean answered. “The second wave must be prepared.”

The three left their hiding spot and made for the mountain ridge they made headquarters.

On the way back, Bean glanced to the Haven Professor seemingly doing a multitude of calculations in his head.

“Probability of Dagger Team’s success?” the boy asked.

“85% by my observation” Moriarty replied easily.

“…And success of eliminating the main targets?”

“Hmmm. Four of the six objectives should be met, if we are to include Vulcan’s failed mission, though, that was within expectation.”

“And the other failed target?”

“Chain Nai will likely survive. He is an exceptionally formidable one. The rest of the targets will not.”

Bean went silent. He felt a pinch at the edge of his heart.

He didn’t know them well, or particularly liked them. But there were two individuals targeted for elimination in Dagger Phase he felt some bitterness towards.

Bean muttered quietly under his breath,

“Sorry, Yang.”

.

X  X  X X  X

.

In the aftermath of the battle, the Black Iron Road had all its furnaces fired immediately.

They didn’t know when the next battle would break out and many of those who took part in the fight, needed repairs to their arms as soon as possible. This also held true for those with prosthetics.

As a result, a long line of patrons in queue were lined up outside Brigid’s workshop. All her apprentices were working around the clock, dashing back and forth between stations. They ran out to exchange parts they were low on with other shops. And among the chaos, Brigid received her next patron with a certain grin.

“Mercury!” she bellowed. “Take care of this one here!”

Mercury quickly put the finishing touches to a Faunus’ ear in time to clear a seat.

A boy, a bit pockmarked in the face and some bloody scrapes, sat down on the stool in front of him. The young boy looked a little worse for wear, but he didn’t act like it. Instead, he beamed with a pride only the young and boastful could have.

“Can’t believe your old man let you join the aerial unit at the last minute,” Mercury shook his head, and began disassembling the damaged parts to Icarus’s wing.

“I only worked support mostly,” he replied shyly.

“Uh huh. And you get these scrapes only working support.”

“Well, when the main units were busy somewhere else, they needed us to hold the lines on another front. We couldn’t let any Grimm pass the wall, after all.”

“How many did you get?”

“About… five.”

“So, two. Pretty good for a kid with a new prosthetic.”

“I said, five!”

“I saw two.”

Icarus blushed with embarrassment.

“You were watching me?”

“Yeah. Only cause you were watching me.”

“That was cause you were so cool! How did you make a storm by yourself?! Can you teach me to do that?!”

“Maybe. Probably should check with your dad first. Where is the hard ass, anyway?”

“He’s right here, cousin.”

Mercury heard the poison in that voice and turned with an indescribable feeling of dread.

Not too far behind Icarus was Daed. But behind the father was a cloaked figure wearing a steel mask. The assassin had a knife tucked just barely visibly under his hostage’s throat.

“Jupiter…!” Mercury growled.

“So, glad you remembered me. I’d thought you’d all but forgotten your debt unpaid.”

“Let him go!”

“Tsk tsk tsk. Well, that would entirely defeat the purpose of a hostage now, wouldn’t it?”

“Goddamn it! Goddamn you, Jupiter!!!”

“Temper, dear cousin. If anyone should be angry, it should be me. You killed Apollo and Diana.”

“They got themselves killed!”

“And now, I have two less assassins under my management. You and your precious little friends are going to suffer for that. No hard feelings, mind you. Simply professional. I have a reputation to uphold.”

Mercury was about to leap at him, when Jupiter twisted the knife, causing some blood to drip from Dead. The threat made Mercury freeze instantly.

“See, that is the difference between you and I, little cousin. We are assassins, but you lack the actual principle required by our kind.”

Mercury was practically burning with anger, doing everything to check his impulse.

“Life is fleeting. It giveth and it is taketh.”

“You want me?! Then come and get me! Leave them out of this!!!”

“Attachment to it in any shape or form, even your own—”

“JUPITER!”

“—Is weakness.”

.

X  X X  X  X

.

In the dark alleyway, Adam’s slash caught nothing but air. His target had ducked at the last second and slipped close in the next.

Neo twisted her body with a quick torque and a snap to unleash a vicious uppercut kick that connected with Adam’s jaw. Once her opponent was floating midair, she readied to transition into the follow up. She didn’t want to allow him even a single chance to touch the ground again.

Just then, a violet light drew from the shadows and sliced at her midsection. Neo had no choice but to back off and teleport away.

During her retreat, something odd happened. Her Semblance didn’t grant her the smooth passage it usually did. Instead, her body was flung upside down through a nearby store window.

Neo didn’t understand. She scanned her surroundings, but it was nowhere near resembling the location she wanted to warp to. Something interfered with her Semblance. When she finally looked down at the wound she received, Neo knew the cause.

In addition to the blood draining out, a cursed black mist billowed from the opened flesh. Neo then, heard the snapping of glass as her two enemies caught up to her.

Blake and Adam approached like a pack of hunters cornering their prey.

Neo could only curse silently as she took up her fighting stance once more.

“Tonight, the monster finally dies,” Blake gloated. “And once you’re gone, Yang will be mine once again.”

“…!”

“Face it, Neo. It never would’ve worked out. Yang and I were made for each other. She knows it, I know it, everybody does. Hahaha!”

Neo growled mutely.

“Even you! You just don’t have the courage to admit it.”

Neo summoned an army of shimmering glass weapons, but they were blown away by the simultaneous wind slashes of Blake and Adam.

“You never had any hope. No salvation.”

I’ll kill you!

“See? How could Yang ever love such a monster, like you? A murderer and a psychopath? She’s a good girl. Too good for you.”

I’LL KILL YOU!

“I mean, I suppose there are a few fans of the deranged kind, who love to see the brave heroine corrupted by a lunatic’s cruel whims. But I was never fond of it myself.”

I’LL KILL YOU UNTIL THERE’S NOTHING LEFT!!!

“Very unhealthy, I think. No, I much prefer the romance between the kind-hearted, well-meaning, but tragic beauty and her brave, fiercely, sexy warrior. Now, that—”

SHUT UP!!!

“That is a ship I can get behind.”

[azrxcls]

T R O P E S ;

you don’t know. when i’m out there at night i feel close to my own body, i can feel my blood moving, my skin and fingernails, everything, it’s like i’m full of electricity and i’m glowing in the dark - i’m on fire almost - i’m burning away into nothing - but it doesn’t matter because i know exactly who i am.

HADES, mythology

berserk button - for the most part, azriel doesn’t go out of his way for people. he sees them completely as an inconvenience or an obstacle in his path - but the moment he sees any form of abuse or someone attempting to take advantage of another, a switch is inevitably flipped and they’ve become public enemy #1.

the dreaded - when he still lived in meereen, azriel had developed quite the name for himself. eyes would skitter away from him and find the crack in a stone fascinating - people parted like the sea to clear the street as he walked past in hopes of remaining on his ( and in turn his masters’ ) good side.

speak of the devil - nicknamed the shadow while living in meereen, anyone who owed his master a favor feared speaking his name ( or nickname ) as it was rumored to draw his attention.

ARES, mythology

blood knight - there is something about violence that has always made his blood sing and gives him a sense of purpose. since moving to the capital, fighting is something he’s been sorely depraved of, which is why he often finds his way into bar fights and acting as a vigilante on the streets.

the brute - ruthless and cold, the man earned his role among his masters men ( the test of his trials evident by the scars he wears proudly like armor ).

RHYSAND, a court of thrones and roses series

dark is not evil - his previous job as an assassin left him with quite the reputation that often left him compared to the devils equal, and while he often did ( and occasionally enjoyed ) devilish acts, the man does have some goodness in his heart and has never been intentionally cruel since his freedom. the words that leave his mouth are often cruel, but it’s to keep people away from his fragile heart.

the dragon - azriel’s master takes this trope and is the villain he had to defeat. once believing he could rely on azriel, the man was taken completely by surprise when he pushed him past him limits and attempted to sell nys.

jerk with a heart of gold - though his words often wouldn’t let you believe it, azriel actually has fairly good intentions. though he will undoubtedly call you out for your mistake and stupidity, often he shows he cares through the actions that follow ( escorting someone home, stepping in the path of a predator ).

AZRIEL, a court of thrones and roses series

beware the quiet ones - not much of a talker, azriel is more inclined to observe then speak ( a habit likely taught through his years under his master when he was trained to only speak when spoken to ). when he decides to throw in his two cents, it’s often riddled with either knowledge or cold hard truth that many overlook.

the stoic - azriel rarely shows emotion - his expression often deadpan. through rare occasion this will break ( typically around his companions or lovers  ) but he isn’t one to easily crack a smile.

[centerofstupidity]

Dracula the Undead: Author’s Note Part 1 Snark

If you enjoy the content you are reading, please like and follow the Center of Stupidity blog.

Interested in reading the previous Dracula the Undead chapter snarks? They can be found here.

Summary: An aperitif of the clusterfuckery that is to come. This is a long-winded and self-congratulating author's note.

Both writers claim that their novel stays true to Bram Stoker's vision even though it contradicts and re-writes the original story.

In case anyone wants to read the original author's note in order to form their own conclusions, you can read it here.  

~ Dacre's Story ~

Since I am a Stoker, it is not surprising that I have had a lifelong interest in the work of my ancestor.

At the risk of sounding like a complete ass...

This "interest" is financially motivated. 

Bram’s youngest brother, George, believed to be the sibling with whom he had the closest relationship, was my great-grandfather, so I am Bram’s great-grandnephew.

"Which means that I am related to Bram Stoker and can write an 'official' sequel to Dracula. And that will make me a shit-load of money."

In college, I wrote a paper on my great granduncle,

I'm getting the impression that is statement is supposed to make Dacre Stoker sound unique...

Even though there are plenty of other college students who have written an essay about Bram Stoker or Dracula for an assignment.

For instance, yours truly did a PowerPoint presentation on Bram Stoker and Mary Shelley for a class in college. 

examining what may have motivated him to write Dracula.

Again, this isn't groundbreaking stuff. 

Many people have published articles or books discussing Dracula. 

Scholars like Professor Elizabeth Miller have dedicated their lives to studying it. 

My research opened my eyes to how, from my family’s perspective, the history of the book Dracula, is pretty tragic.

"And before I give everyone a history lesson, I'm telling you all this so I can justify butchering my ancestor's work."

Bram Stoker died without ever seeing Dracula become popular. The sales of the novel were so limited at the time of his death that his widow, Florence, thought she would never benefit financially from Bram’s “wasted” seven years of research and writing. With Bram’s other fiction and nonfiction books out of print, Florence was convinced she would live out her days on a tight budget.

Actually, that isn't true. 

According to scholar John Edgar Browning, the majority of critics gave positive reviews. 

His findings were published on February 1st, 2012. 

It is important to note Dracula: The Undead was published in 2009.

But in an interview in 2013, Dacre Stoker said this: There is this statement that used to kind of drive me crazy—‘Dracula was met with mixed reviews when Bram was alive’. 

He then briefly discusses Browning’s research.

Which means that Stoker knew about Browning’s findings...

But he ignored it and printed misinformation. 

Dacre adds that it was only "ten years after Bram’s death" when Dracula became popular.

Posthumously, Bram started to receive recognition as the progenitor of the modern vampire/horror novel.

Not to diminish Dracula and its impact on popular culture...

But it is not the first influential vampire novel. 

Varney the Vampire is. 

Dacre Stoker goes on to talk about Florence Stoker (Bram Stoker's wife) and her legal dispute with the creators of Nosferatu.

He also states that Dracula became public domain in the U.S.A since 1899 because Bram didn't complete a requirement so Florence Stoker had to live off the U.K. royalties.

With the U.S. copyright lost, Hollywood, corporate America, and anyone else was free to do whatever they wanted to Bram’s story and characters.

This is the part where the reader is supposed to boo and hiss at Hollywood...

And then give Holt and Stoker a standing ovation for writing Dracula the Undead. 

Dacre Stoker talks about how his family wasn't asked for approval of "any of the hundreds of incarnations of Dracula over the next century."

My father’s generation had a negative feeling for all things Hollywood and Dracula.

Which is understandable given what happened. 

But after reading the author's note...

The history of Dracula is being used in order to deflect any criticism.

And to justify bastardizing Dracula under the pretense of honoring Bram's original vision and righting a past wrong. 

—except, of course, for Bram’s original novel.

So we have two options:

They knowingly endorsed a novel that defamed Bram and mocked the original novel. 

Or they loved Dracula and would be appalled that Bram was dragged through the mud and the original lore was ridiculed. 

According to Ian Holt in an interview in 2010, he says that “Bram’s bitter demeanor was even worse in real life than we depicted in the novel.”

And in the same interview, Holt passively aggressively says: “Do your research. The fact that the chapters with Bram were written almost completely by Dacre in consultation with his family means nothing to them.” 

So yeah...

I’m leaning towards option number one. 

I didn’t write about these issues in my college paper, but they were always on my mind.

Dacre Stoker admitted that he didn't read Dracula until he went to college.

Stoker says it was "a shame" that his family was unable to "control the legacy of my great-granduncle" and  "lay claim to the character of Dracula."

It was many years after college that I met an interesting character, Ian Holt.

Stoker doesn't realize that calling someone "an interesting character" can be a veiled insult.

Ian is a screenwriter who has been obsessed with all things Dracula since childhood.

A lot of people love all things Dracula.

Doesn't mean that they are a talented writer.

Ian, being a true idealist, had a plan that inspired me to not accept the frustrating history of Dracula.

"He was my knight in shining armor!"

He wanted to change history.

History reveals that change isn't always positive. 

Sometimes it is negative. 

Ian’s plan was simple: to reestablish creative control over Bram’s novel and characters by writing a sequel that bore the Stoker name.

To my surprise, none in my family had ever considered this.

Translation: "Why haven't any of my family members tried writing a novel? It's the obvious solution to the problem." 

And it didn't occur to Stoker none of his family members had any interest in being a writer. 

It really pisses me off when people act like writing any kind of fiction is easy or that anyone can be a writer. 

While any literate person can write, not everyone can be a writer. 

It requires talent and passion along with the desire to learn about the craft and improve your writing skills.  

Intrigued, I decided to join Ian on a roller-coaster ride as coauthor.

And for readers, it is a nightmarish ride where clusterfuckery gallops and a literary classic is violently raped.

In writing Dracula the Un-Dead, I felt a strong sense of duty and familial responsibility.

"It isn't because I wanted to piss all over my relative's legacy and make a shit load of money."

I hoped to work with Ian to represent Bram’s vision for the character of Dracula.

Bram's vision should be called Sir Not Appearing in This Novel.

We aimed to resurrect Bram’s original themes and characters, just as Bram conceived them more than a century ago.

The Dracula characters appear in name only.

They are cast in an unfavorable light. 

As for the themes?

They are discarded. 

So many books and films had strayed from Bram’s vision—

It is extremely rare for adaptations to stick extremely close to the original story. 

Usually, adaptations take artistic license with the source material. 

And just because an adaptation or a retelling differs from the original story, doesn't mean that it will automatically suck. 

For instance, I like films, mangas, and video games that are inspired by/loosely based on Dracula. 

and thus our intent was to give both Bram and Dracula back their dignity in some small way.

Dracula is depicted as a misunderstood man with fangs who is every woman's erotic dream. 

And readers are supposed to despise Bram. 

I think Bram would be proud that a family member has taken this initiative, and finally done justice to the legacy he created.

Bram would be livid that his work was bastardized and that his descendant depicted him as a desperate and a talentless hack.

~ Ian’s Story ~

I am not ashamed to say it, I LOVE horror films.

Ah, all-caps.

How I loathe thee.

A lot of people like horror and it is a popular genre. 

So that doesn't make you unique.

And horror movies are no longer considered depraved or scandalous.

Holt mentions that his favorite horror movie as a kid was Dracula (1931).

When I was ten years old, my mother bought me a record for Halloween with Christopher Lee narrating the story of Dracula by Bram Stoker. Reading that record sleeve changed my life, for it was then I learned that Transylvania was an actual place and that Dracula was a historical figure.

Where do I begin? 

If you are LISTENING to an audiobook, you are not READING IT.

Ian was "inspired" by the audiobook that he decided to read Dracula.

I was surprised at how different the novel was from the films—and I had seen every Dracula film ever made.

"Who knew that Count Dracula swings both ways? Or that Mina is an assertive and intelligent woman and not a stupid Dracula fangirl?"

The novel was more intelligent, astute, and dark.

While this literary abomination is a cash-grab filled with gratuitous gore and sex.

The novel had more intricate and exciting characters than I could have ever imagined.

While Dracula the Undead has depraved lesbian vampires and a whiny prat along with a handsome and misunderstood vampire who only wants tru luv.

I felt cheated by Hollywood. I vowed revenge!

I get it, Holt and Stoker. 

I'm supposed to hate Hollywood but adore your literary travesty. 

Fifteen years later, my opportunity came.

And Dracula fans wished that it never arrived.

Flipping channels one night, I came upon a program on the making of Francis Ford Coppola’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula.

I'm getting the sneaking suspicion that this story will result in name dropping. And Holt insisting that he is a scholar.

On the program, Coppola held up the 1972 book In Search of Dracula written by Fulbright Scholars Professor Raymond McNally and Professor Radu Florescu (Prince Dracula’s actual descendant).

Vlad the Impaler is also known as Vlad III, Vlad Dracul or Vlad Dracula. 

Sometimes he is referred to as Vlad III of Wallachia or Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia. 

But I have never heard of any scholar referring to Vlad III as "Prince Dracula."

A quick Google search reveals only this book and a YA novel called Hunting Prince Dracula. 

Every time I see Vlad III being mentioned as "Prince Dracula", I can't keep a straight face. 

Because it reminds me of Beni Gabor calling Imhotep his "prince." 

Coppola had used the professors’ research of the historical Prince Dracula’s life as inspiration for the opening sequence of his film.

And he discarded the rest of it in order to make Dracula a guy who is looking for his one tru luv.

Before taking a breath I was on a plane to Boston College to meet the professors. After showing them some notes on the screenplay I planned to write based on their book,

"I smelled an opportunity to make some money!"

the professors sold me the rights for one dollar

"They were impressed my awesomeness!"

The friendship I forged with McNally and Florescu has borne fruit in many ways. I soon began traveling with the professors giving lectures on the impact of Bram Stoker’s novel on our culture.

According to Dracula the Undead on the official Penguin Publishing House website, Ian is being described as:

There is a BIG difference between being a fan, a historian, and a documentarian. 

A quick Google search reveals that Ian Holt has not published anything in an academic journal.

However, one of the first things that pop up in an internet search is this. 

This garnered me an invitation to speak at The First World Dracula Congress in Bucharest, Romania, in 1995—a gathering of Dracula/horror scholars from around the world.

I don't doubt that Holt went to The First World Dracula Congress.

But I don't think he was a speaker.

Elizabeth Miller wrote a report about the gathering. 

And Ian Holt isn't mentioned among the speakers. 

Holt went sightseeing in Romania and how he made "the dream I had as a ten-year-old come true."

Thanks to the friends I made at the First World Dracula Congress, I was asked to join the Transylvanian Society of Dracula—a scholarly organization dedicated to the study of all things Dracula.

We get it, Ian Holt. 

You want us to think that you are a scholar because you are friends with scholars and historians. 

But I don't think a scholar would be constantly name-dropping.

Through friends in the society I met Professor Elizabeth Miller, the world’s foremost authority on all things vampire, Dracula, and Bram.

"And I'll use my scholar friends as a shield to deal with criticism."

Professor Miller asked me to speak at the Dracula convention in Los Angeles in 1997, where we celebrated the 100th anniversary of the release of Bram’s novel.

According to a report on the 1997 Dracula convention in Los Angeles, Holt isn't mentioned as being one of the speakers.

Holt says during the convention he came up with an idea to write a sequel to Dracula. He admits that a Dracula sequel isn't a new idea.

But a Dracula sequel was never written with "input from a member of the Stoker family."

Holt goes on to say that "securing that input became my goal" and contacted the Stoker family patriarch.

Still scarred by the Nosferatu copyright affair and years of being ignored and abused by Hollywood, the members of this generation of the Stoker family wanted nothing to do with me.

I could be wrong...

But I'm getting a strong feeling that Holt was miffed that some members of the Stokers didn't want to touch him with a ten-foot pole. 

Especially since Holt said the Stoker family at "long last" supported the idea for an official sequel.

But I wouldn’t give up.

Holt says how he "kept building up my film-writing résumé and Dracula connections." He eventually meets Dacre Stoker.

I pitched him my sequel idea, which at the time I had been planning as a screenplay. Dacre was enthusiastic and suggested that the proper way to proceed was with a book first.

If it is a novel, then it will be proper lit-ra-choor.

Because a movie wouldn't be "deep" or "elevated". 

Both Dacre and Ian agreed to a writing partnership.

And Dacre contacted his family members and presented them with the sequel proposal.

Once it was understood that this would be a labor of love,

"We gleefully shit all over the original lore and insist that it was all a lie."

our intentions honorable, and that our plan was to restore to the world Bram’s original vision and characters,

If that was the case, then:

The original lore of Dracula wouldn't be repeatedly violated.

The Crew of Light wouldn't be depicted in an unflattering light.

And Bram Stoker wouldn't be vilified. 

the Stokers offered support, at long last.

Translation: They finally appreciated my genius!

Dracula the Un-Dead is the culmination of my lifelong dream and years of hard work.

"And why is the Devil laughing and doing a victory dance?"

It is my gift to every horror nut out there.

If by "gift", you mean a literary turd, then I agree with you.

My greatest wish is we have created a book that is close to Bram’s original gothic vision

"Close to Bram's original gothic vision"? 

Hell no! 

It contradicts the original story and reads like a shitty Coppola's Dracula fanfic. 

—while modernizing it at the same time.

By stealing a twist from The Empire Strikes Back and copying a scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom.

Believe me, I realize how lucky I am.

And readers will regard this novel as a plague upon mankind.

I have been truly blessed that in some small way, my name will be linked with

a mean-spirited and shitty novel.

that of my hero, Bram Stoker—

I'm not convinced that Dacre or Ian regard Bram as their hero.

Here is an excerpt from the novel:

"If there were to be any truth to Stoker's novel it would have to be where no sunlight could ever reach."

Translation: you can stick it where the sun don't shine.

the man who invented modern horror.

I'll say it again...

Stoker wasn't the only one who invented modern horror.

Some of the other writers were Edgar Allen Poe, Ann Radcliffe, Sheridan Le Fanu, Algernon Blackwood, and H.P. Lovecraft.

[amahontl]

SINoALICE - Famitsu App Interview with Jino on Character Design

An interview with SINoALICE’s character designer, Jino

Published on August 25th 2017.

The untold story of the birth of the girls from the illustrator of “SINoALICE”, Jino! As well as info on a new character…..!?

Why are the girls so gorgeous?

“SINoALICE”, a mobile RPG that is the work of a collaboration between PokeLabo and Square Enix.

One of the reasons why this title became popular is because of its charming ‘character designs’. Jino, the illustrator who gave birth to the beautiful girls from the world of “SINoALICE”, of who you wouldn’t think at first glance that they would come from a dark tale spun by Yoko Taro.

▲ One of the concept art that Jino conceived. Jino possesses a rather unique touch which resonates well with the “NieR” series and the very essence of Yoko’s own world. This is truly ‘art’.

From the previous interview, we learned that Jino, with a professional mindset in place, visited a library and even looked up the story’s own setting of its era. Just how did he bring the 9 girls to life? We’ll unravel the truth!

The 9 girls brought to life by Jino

From here on, we will go through Jino’s creative process as well as some rough sketches. We hear the players asking questions about the design, such as “Why did you go with this design?” “Where is the point of focus?” and so on. Jino shares with us his comments regarding the matter.

Alice (CV: M.A.O)

Alice, you may call her the main character of SINoALICE. The keyword is “Restriction”, not to restrict someone in the game, rather, to restrict your own self. This trait of Alice’s shows one side of her largely mysterious character.

▲ Coupled with a large pocket watch and a distinctive sword, as well as an aura of blue, filled with valiant air. Completed with a frilly maid outfit, creating a gap that received much praise from the players.

Jino’s comment

The maid outfit was a proper request (from Yoko). There are gothic motifs in the sword as well, which was created faithfully to Yoko’s orders…. That’s my intention!

“In a scenario where her original flange broke off in a fierce battle and she fled off to somewhere, what weapon would she use as a substitute?”, which was the delusion I had which lead to me to the idea that she’d use a circular-shaped weapon. So I thought, slap a pocket watch on it! And so, that was the conclusion I arrived at.

There was also the “If the apron shoulder straps come off then I’ll fool em by wrapping it around” and “The scabbard was quickly lost so in order to put back the sword, I’ll give Alice a harness”, as well as “The knee socks look like it’ll tear apart so I’ll add in something simple instead” and etc, in addition with that sort of behaviour and combat style (which I simply made up myself) I imagined and I designed it from there.

▲ Underneath the maid outfit are the harness and its belt and even a ton of pocket watches. These are details you won’t be able to notice in the game, all mixed in with my tastes.

Snow White (CV: Ueda Reina)

The keyword for the titular character of her own story, ‘Snow White’, is “Justice”. In the story, she’s easily taken as self-centered, however, she strongly enforces her own twisted form of ‘Justice’.

Jino’s comment

Actually, her hair and clothes and all give off a very general looking silhouette, as per request. There’s a contrast between a katana and a greatsword, so I designed it in a way that would have the same difference between a samurai and a knight.

If you give her some clunky armor… Well, you wouldn’t be happy with it, would you? (darkly smirks) Which was what I thought, so I gave her a great sword that’s easy to wield, coupled with a light outfit. I tried to make it so that the armor would assemble as much as possible on the front part of the design.

▲ Adorned with a pure white dress, decorated with a bouquet of blood-smeared roses leaves quite the impression. She seems to have settled in with the dirt sullying the end of her dress.

Hansel and Gretel (CV: Uchida Maaya)

Gretel, a girl with a few screws loose who has a relentless obsession with her older brother. I’ve gotten a snippet that she has already laid her hands on him…… The keyword for her is “Delusion”.

Jino’s comment

I’ve gotten a request to implement a robe but that would’ve made Gretel’s silhouette to be similar to Red Riding Hood’s. I was troubled on how to make Gretel more distinct. I felt that I made a pretty good impression with it.

In the game, Gretel is shown to be messed-up so her clothes mimic that trait of hers. Her exposure is also sort of mismatched. The mismatch is a specialty of Gretel’s, I wonder if I conveyed that correctly, even my comment became mismatched.

▲ The cage that Gretel carries is her feature. This cage has a motif of teeth and gums.

Pinocchio (CV: Sanpei Yuuko)

Due to not knowing what to do on his own, Pinocchio sets out to revive his Author. In contrast, I didn’t think much about the verbally abusive staff-Pinocchio. His keyword is “Dependency”.

Jino’s comment

The request was to make him look like he was brought up with proper manners. The head that’s attached to the weapon was originally supposed to be eerie-looking, as if it’s cursed, there’s also the setting where it’s able to talk and the result of focusing on that gave birth to a rather charming chap.

My favourite is this mysterious flapping open bag. I think it’s actually hard to use but I wonder if that’s alright…..

▲ Pinocchio’s staff is able to grow limbs and is able to move freely. With the upcoming Job designs for Pinocchio, I’d like to fully utilize that setting.

Little Mermaid (CV: Noto Mamiko)

The Little Mermaid, a girl who expresses her own story as a ‘Tragedy’. She holds a twisted ideology where “Tragedy is Beauty”. Her keyword is “Sorrow”.

Jino’s comment

It was a setting where her hair would have fish fins protruding out, but, there wasn’t any twin-tailed character so far so. “The tail end will have fins then!” was what I went with and so she has an extremely thick tail fin extending from her head.

I tried reading the setting book again, but I have a feeling I’ve made a mistake. I think there was a request to make her look like Medusa…… N-nah, I’m able to present the final design like so, so that means I did the job! Yes I did!

▲ Her weapon has ocean motifs embroidered on it. “You can break coconuts with it”, according to Jino’s comment.

Princess Kaguya (CV: Itou Shizuka)

Princess Kaguya, she has the most mature physique amongst the 9 girls. In the game, she stands out with her masochistic trait where she seeks out a companion who will torment her. Her keyword is “Suffering”.

Jino’s comment

Her outfit originally was supposed to be that of a courtesan’s, but, when I looked up the fashion in the Heian-period to see how it looks like, I decided to go against the request. (What) Or so I thought, I had to implement her twelve-layered ceremonial kimono no matter what so I was put in a really tough spot. As a result of trying to find a solution, “A person who returns to the Moon is an Alien!” and with that, I mixed in Alien-like elements into a courtesan. (What)

It all looks pretty messy to me but, I’m truly grateful to Yoko’s big heart!

▲ The skull ornaments on the weapon and her clothes give out quite the impression. Her characteristic is her bewitching aura.

Briar Rose (CV: Hondo Kaede)

“Briar Rose”, a girl who wishes for a world of everlasting slumber. One who disturbs her from her sleep will be torn apart by her cage of thorns. Her keyword is “Slumber”.

Jino’s comment

The request what that for her to be sleeping in an encasement of thorns but, in terms of the game system, how is her sprite going to be animated was a problem. So, the Art Director and I pondered about it together. In the middle of all that, somehow, a certain famed post-apocalyptic game’s “that vehicle” popped into my head.

Thanks to that, we now have a bit of a firmly established character. And also thanks to having settled on the character, I was able to make the weapon more flashy, it was like killing two birds with one stone. Wasn’t she supposed to be a much more docile character? Uhh…...

▲ The doll that Briar holds in her hands can be associated with her “childishness”. But, the thorns surrounding her give off a sinister impression.

Red Riding Hood (CV: Imamura Ayaka)

“Red Riding Hood’, a girl who holds a psychopathic line of thinking no matter how much she kills, kills, and kills, will never be enough. In accordance with her keyword; “Violence”, she holds her greatest desire of slaughter with pride.

Jino’s comment

I had torture tools as the first image in mind but at the same time, her violent personality gives me the impression of “I don’t feel any sort of attachment to the tools themselves”, with that, I shifted the outfit and weapon design into a dicey manner.

Just like Jac◯y Chan where he picks up things that are around him and use it, if he likes it, he takes it home. I feel like I’m wrong about the comparison.

▲ The huge gap between a pure and innocent smile and a ferocious-looking weapon. It truly compliments the aspect of a psychopath.

Cinderella (CV: Kitamura Eri)

“Cinderella”, a strong-willed character. Her personality is rotten to the point that it feels good, you often see her being gleeful in-game when she sees others suffer. Her keyword is “Depravity”.

Jino’s comment

Truth is, the final design is radically different from the initial request. It seems I’ve added a lot of my tastes into it…..

I had a hunch where Cinderella’s colour palate and silhouette would look similar with the other characters, so I pretty much went with a discriminative approach, Cinderella is designed in a way when someone looks at her, they’ll go “Huh?”.

Small arms aren’t my specialty, so I had a quite a tough time.

▲ The combination of a rotten facial expression and a gun as a weapon goes hand in hand. Inside her skirt is another weapon cramped inside of it.

Jino’s Untold Story of Development

After the game launched, “SINoALICE” has gained a lot of responses of the players, I would like to hear your current impression of the game.

Jino: I’ve never had a career before this, I’m just but an inexperienced illustrator, so reality hasn’t quite set inside me just yet. This was the kind of work where I kept pondering on whether “Was this right?” during the long period of time before the game launched, but no matter how much I ponder, it’s tough to answer it. Honestly speaking, I feel quite relieved to see the huge reception for the designs. Thank you very much.

In addition to be the one to supervise the designs, what was the hardest thing about it? And also, what was it that bore in mind during the process?

Jino: The question was how to shape up Yoko’s worldview, which left me exhausted. The designs I made for the characters must match up entirely with the theme of the game or else we would’ve failed our goal. Characters are often regarded as the face of the game, likewise, I kept in mind that they are one part of the game. With regards to the comment from above, isn’t it absurd……? That was the impression I had but, I’m doing a proper job! A proper…. Job…. Especially receiving a piece of advice of having a consistent coloring style. If I’m not aware of what I’m doing, then there will be messy areas so this has been quite the learning experience for me.

We’d like to hear who your favourite character is and the reason for it.

Jino: It’s a bit of an unfair response but “Everyone!” is what I’d like to say. I did have a go at the game, saw some fan art and that’s when it came to me, the aspect I never thought possible and all the pairings, that’s when my indecisiveness struck. But of course, my impression might change along the course of development…..?

Could you spare us some details about the currently-under-development character?

Jino: It’s definitely a fairytale character! Even though it’s a fairytale character, it’s an old story yet also relatively new, the next character is quite new! I’m beating around the bush but I have a feeling people will quuuuickly figure it out! Yeah?

▲ A special acquisition of the silhouette of the 10th character! Of what seems to be hair braided into three and a coat that extends down to the knees…..!?

And finally, a word you’d like to say to the players?

Jino: Thank you very much for playing SINoALICE! We’ve only just begun so I’d like to give it my all for the road ahead. I’ll also beat the producer’s butt! To the people who are interested in this article, please give the game a try. Thank you!

Source: Famitsu App

[swtorramblings]

DS!Comment: Changing Perceptions

I actually had several moments where my assumption of Vaylin’s fate was changed. I thought I’d write them out. The therapy continues.

When I first started the game and was introduced to the siblings, I immediately assumed that Arcann would live, but Vaylin would die. Yes, it was based mostly on sex. No, I feel no shame for making that assumption considering how everything played out.

We get to Visions in the Dark, and I saw nothing up until then that made me think otherwise. It actually reinforced the assumption. But, at that point, I thought there was something actually INTERESTING going on about her. That she was going to be someone actually important in the future of my character and the evolving story. 

We get to the end, Arcann gets away with Senya, and I knew that he was going to live. Wrong only in that we got the choice to kill him, which is really a non-choice for me because it was really a choice to kill Senya. Again, I’m heartened that even if we kill Vaylin at the end, it will be as an interesting and powerful character. The Vaylin/Scorpio team would be an awesome enemy, if nothing else.

Then we get the Betrayed trailer. I actually think at this point that she might live. She went from a little girl with barely controlled powers to being broken and controlled most of her life, surely they would not make us kill her. That would make no sense. But, again, I suspect that they might still, because she is dangerous and may force the issue, having been driven insane. Perhaps her level of power will make it impossible to take her alive.

This, this right here, is what I think they were going for. They just blew it. And I wouldn’t have been happy about it, anyway.

Then we see the over-the-top villain we get in KotET. As far as I’m concerned, no worse than Arcann “let’s have our Knights fight to the death to motivate them” Tirall, but no more sign of something deeper than we got most of the time with him, eitehr. I’m firmly convinced by this point that they won’t so completely sweep what was done to her under the rug and make her just a villain after so clearly showing it. It wouldn’t make sense, and Arcann, who I believed was treated likewise but we weren’t shown him being tortured in such loving detail, we are trying to save. Surely they’re not that idiotic?

If I’d noticed her being listed as “more brutal” than Arcann and “depraved sister”, I would have known better.

The Vaylin/Scorpio alliance breaks up, and all felt rather pointless by that time. Scorpio suggests using Vaylin as a tool, and then Scorpio, who has caused significant death and destruction while in her own right mind, actions that you forgive because of HER long-time enslavement and killing her is an automatic DS choice (note that, executing Arcann if you choose to has an LS choice to do it with). Surely they would treat Vaylin similarly (I didn’t know about DS!Arcann at the time, or I might not have been so optimistic).

Then we get to Chapter 6. I barely noticed the command phrase, I confess. I was so sure they wouldn’t do the things leading up to this moment and then make us kill this character that it just didn’t matter much. It was a botched and out of character moment, but any decently happy ending would make up for it, and now here’s Arcann standing with me to prove it.

I had a hiccup in my mood when Arcann wouldn’t come to Nathema to maybe help talk her down. His chances were low, sure, but better than the Emperor’s puppet at that point, surely. It did not make me think better of him at the time, and him staying behind seemed to mean the writers may really not want to give good options to save her. They’re not even letting us make the best attempt.

Then we see Nathema. We see exactly what was done to her. Combined with the fact that I’m forced to watch my character make it worse, and the fact that the Emperor is so transparently manipulating my character to kill her for some plot of his own, surely they won’t force me to fall for this nonsense? No, Bioware is better than that.

And then, here’s her family helping to manipulate her to come down and face me. At least Arcann stayed on his ship and we had to go to him, but one “I dare you” and here she comes. And Senya helps threaten her, “Arcann and I will be at their side”, talks about her being broken without a single consoling word from the Commander or her son. Surely they wouldn’t write this so badly and make my character partly responsible and show her as such a character if she was going to die. Surely they see why that would be a problem, even if this story was rushed through so much that they left these moments in.

Then, she snaps my buddy’s neck. And I respond with “you sick, twisted/now I’ll make you suffer (as the Neutral option, no less)/I didn’t care about them anyway” nonsense. All reasonable responses, but after what I’d done and seen with no choice in it that was the moment when I went back to resigning myself to this victim’s death at my hands.

Even then, as she is on her hands and knees, I thought maybe it would go better. Then Valkorion pops out and I listen to him. Oh, well. Then he taunts you again, “do it, do it, you know you have to do it”. I think we might be allowed to wise up to his shenanigans. We get in close, while she stands there whimpering. We don’t take a desperate swipe at her while barely resisting the wind, we take a solid stance, pull back all the way, and thrust in and impale her. One more step and we could have clubbed her unconscious, but instead we do this.

The non-Force user is a bit better. You can see that it’s a strain, that the Outlander is barely holding on to fire the gun once. The problem here is that we’ve seen her shot twice by heavy blaster rifles, once by the robot she made into a torso, once by Scorpio, and her armor deflected them. It clearly stung, but she walked away from both without serious injury. Suddenly, it’s too flimsy to stand up to your dinky little blaster pistol. Come on, Bioware.

Had to stare at my screen in shock while the plot continued without me. Had to listen to a mother say “We’ve won” with what looked to me at the time to be a smile while I stand over her daughter’s corpse and not say anything to console her, and a short time later a brother talk about how he hoped her spirit had been obliterated (seriously, BWA, just say “at peace”, this is not at all hard).

So, fine, she’s dead, but there’s something more. Because Arcann gives that bit of hope, in the “obliterated” conversation. You can even ask if he thinks Vaylin is not really dead. All right, maybe this wasted character that should have been given something better may still get a chance.

Surely, the results of being forced to kill her, the results of her abuser’s constant goading, hey, you’ve got to kill ONE of my family members, be a pal, would you? Surely the results of that wouldn’t be too bad. Oh, the Eternal Fleet has gone crazy? I wonder how many deaths can be laid at my character’s feet for that? All because I listed to this creep? All because I couldn’t be carrying a tranquilizer gun (we know they exist, see the JK prologue) or use the lightsaber as a club while she was just standing there? You know, like her mother did after a piece of heavy machinery was flung at her?

Is Senya better than me? Yeah, OK, probably.

“Choice. I could get used to that.” Great, maybe she’ll still be around in some form. Why give her that line, after all the things that have happened to her, including at my character’s own hands but without my choice, if she’s just going to disappear in a ball of white light at the end?

Wait, what?

“Now, my brother is gone, my father is gone, my sister is gone, but I have my mother and you.” Fine. I guess she’s dead. Not only that, it looks like we won’t even get a Force ghost or anything. Surely they’ll at least allow the acknowledgement that she was a victim in all this, and not the perpetrator. Perhaps a funeral or something.

“The galaxy is still recovering from Vaylin’s tyrannical reign.”

Dammit, Bioware.