#stealth is simply not their forte

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

sooo ik you’re not gonna get into itafushikugi’s dynamic in your fic but just out of curiosity, if megumi ever did tell them about what happened to him, how would they react? actually how would they react to yuuta & megumi’s dynamic? LMAOO wait how would they react to gojo being megumi’s parental figure? god. megumi life is just insane.

They are absolutely obsessed with whatever the fuck megumi's life is. he enchants them. he comes off as the most normal of them all and then months into the relationship they find out that gojo satoru is his fucking dad. they didn't know he had a sister until someone else told them. he's the world's most interesting man but he shares no personal information and refuses to acknowledge how inexplicably fascinating he is.

The thing is that I would like to think that he did tell them, but when i say it would take years for him to get to that point.

I like to think that sea glass gardens feeds into a lot of canon as normal, and in my mind, the events of sea glass gardens within its own universe is a lot of the reason why megumi's blatantly suicidal in his first year.

I don't want to get too much into it, because we're still unpacking everything that happened, and like. Spoilers. But I don't think I can emphasize enough how traumatizing these events were for him, and how he is 0% willing or able to start the healing process for what happened. I think that Megumi as a person is just someone who hates being at other people's mercy, and these events were one of the most invasive losses of control for what happened.

I've talked about this in some other post, but one of the most notable things about Megumi is that he seems to constantly be trying to die on his own terms with Mahoraga. He's accepted that he'll go down, but he'll go down his way, taking the person who killed him with him. I view that as sort of the ultimate way of reclaiming control for someone who had very little control over the direction of his own life, and the events of sea glass gardens potentially robbed him of even that. Gojo says that he thinks the Zenin had to have a way to keep megumi from summoning mahoraga, but that means that Megumi's spent his entire life with this one reliable source of autonomy and control over his self and still had it be taken away. Mahoraga was his security blanket, and he lost it.

By the time Megumi reaches canon, he's jumping to summon Mahoraga at every turn, and that kind of reads as someone who 1) doesn't have a very high valuation of his own life, and 2) wants to make certain that he's dying on his terms. He is nowhere near close to being okay from what happened, he's not open to help from anyone, and he's not about to let himself be vulnerable with anyone. The events of sea glass gardens represent this inescapable moment of weakness and humiliation to him, and he's not mentally okay enough to admit to anyone that it happened.

Kugisaki and Itadori sort of start pulling him back from that path. They give him a reason to live and make him start fighting to survive instead of fighting to die his way. They really do sort of set him off into finally healing, and that breeds the sort of trust between them that I think they would one day be the people megumi is most comfortable telling about what the zenin did to him. But it would be slow. It would take a very, very long time. But when it did happen, it would happen because they were the people he trusted most in the world, and there is not a single part of him that thinks they could ever hurt him. He would trust them to the point of his own destruction.

I'd like to think it happens a little like this:

the scars from the Great Serpents fangs were something that Kugisaki and Itadori had been hounding him about for ages by the time he tells them. They have 93 theories in counting, each more crazy than the last. it becomes a sort of joke between them, finding a new explanation for where they came from since Fushiguro wouldn't tell them, and the game marks the first time that Megumi could even think about them without the memories tormenting him for the rest of the day. somehow, he can never feel grief around itadori or kugisaki.

it just comes out. he thought it would be harder, he thought he would choke on it, but the truth slips out easily, and he isn't afraid of what kugisaki or itadori would do with it. He tells them the truth of the Zenin, of what they did to him, of where the scars came from and how goddamn terrified he is of those people.

And it hurts less. It almost shocks him, how it hurts less.

Yuuta and Megumi's dynamic post-sea glass gardens is the source of endless bewilderment to Kugisaki and seething jealousy for itadori. I've talked about it in some other posts, but I think Itadori is unbearably jealous of yuuta when he meets him. He's not even a jealous person. this is an anomaly. Yuuta is living his perfect life, which is a shock to yuuta, who did not think he was living anyone's perfect life.

Like, Yuuta exists in this weird exception to everything for Megumi. Megumi Is Yuuta's Boy. They're inexplicably close and there's simply no explanation as to why that anyone can tell them. Yuuta is so visibly fond and protective of him that there's no way to say that megumi's not his favorite. Kugisaki has no idea what's going on but it's fucking hilarious watching itadori lose his gourd over it.

they go insane when they realize that gojo is megumi's dad and no one fucking told them. Maki lets it slip in passing (because she thought they had to know already) and itadori has to sit on megumi while kugisaki tries to weasel answers out of him. what the fuck do you mean gojo's your dad. why did he think this was not relevant information. this guy won't tell them shit about his life.

After, Itadori and Kugisaki insist on referring to gojo exclusively as "megumi's dad," which gojo is a smug dick about, and which causes megumi endless suffering. he wishes they were not told.

[simsterslife]

Understanding the Dynamics of 'Just Friends'.

Maeve's departure from San Myshuno? If anyone thought she'd simply pack her bags and leave, they clearly haven't been keeping up with her drama series. Daisy holding down the fort was one thing, but let's not beat around the bush here - Maeve had her hands full with Ethan.

Their undercover affair was practically a stealth mission, avoiding the prying eyes of the press like seasoned spies. Yet, the burning question remains - has Maeve truly moved on from the Johnny chapter, or is this just another twist in the plot?

[the-whatcherof-89]

Ethoslab Ladders Aka Mr Clark Snappers.

CR 20 NG Medium Humanoid

XP 307,200 (if used as npc for encounter)Middle aged Human Rogue (Phantom Thief)10 Living Monolith 10

Neutral Good Medium humanoid

Init +8; Senses Perception +36

AC 40, touch 24, flat-footed 32 (+8 Dex, +5 Deflection, +5 Natural, +1 Insight, +6 Armor, +5 Shield) hp 135 (16d6+75)

Fort +17, Ref +22, Will +16

Speed 30 ft. Melee Adamantine shortsword +27/22/17 1D6+5 Ranged Crossbow +31/26/21 1D8+9

Racial Bonus feat (Fast learner), +1 Skill point per level.

Traits Pragmatic activator, Nervous.

Class features Refined education(Craft:Stone, Perception, Stealth, Spellcraft)+5, Broad education(Finesse rogue, Positioning attack, Improved feint, Minor magic, Major magic), Social sense+3, Advanced rogue talent: Shrine walk, Soul stone, Stone blood, Fortified flesh(DR 3/- 30%), Stability, Bombsight, Immune to disease, Attunement to stone, Summon sphinx, Ageless stone, Judgement of the monolith, Master Ka stone.

Spellcasting CL10 DC20 Crafter’s fortune 5/day Read magic/at will.

Str 10, Dex 26, Con 20, Int 30, Wis 18, Cha 14

Base Atk +14/9/4; CMB +13; CMD +31

Feats Shield proficiency, Rapid reload, Point blank shot, Precise shot, Snap shot, Rapid shot, Crossbow mastery, Master crafter, Endurance, Iron will.

Special His immortality gives him the +2 bonuses for old age but no penalties thanks to his immortality.

Skills Acrobatics +30, Appraise +18, Bluff +25, Climb +20, Craft(Stone) +33, Craft(Redstone)+33, Disguise +11, Disable +14, Escape artist +20, Handle animal +13, Heal +11, Intimidate +11, Knowledge (Arcana +30, Dungeon +18, Engineering +30, Nature +20, Geography +18, History +15, Local 15, Nobility +14, The planes+14, Religion +14), Linguistics +5, Perception +26, Perform(dance) +7, Profession(Engineer) +21, Ride +16, Sense motive +16, Sleight of hand +16, Spellcraft +35, Stealth +30, Survival +16, Swim +20, Use magic device +33.

Languages Common, Draconic, Elven, Dwarven, Sphinx, Giant, Sylvan, Undercommon, Alko.

Combat gear Cornerstone crossbow+5, 45 +4 Bolts, Adamantine defending shortsword+5, 2 Daggers of doubling, Returning trident+1, Amulet of natural armor+5, Ring of protection+5, Scholar’s ring, Dragon form armor(Black)+5, Animated fire resistance darkwood buckler+4, Belt of physical might+6 (Dex, Con), Headband of mental prowess+6 (Int, Wis, Bluff), Coat of resistance+4, Cloak of comfort, Shoes of the lighting leaper, Bracers of the falcon aim, Wands (Fly, Haste, Cure moderate wounds), Potions:Blur(1), Cure critical wounds(2), Manual of quickness of action+3(Used), Tome of clear thought+4(Used), Ioun stones: Dusty rose prism, Western star, Bag of holding type I, Small anvil with the phrase “You got Etho’ed” on the side, Rogue kit, 113GP.

Background Ethoslab also known simply as Etho hails from a far land of Hermits where he is renowned for his pioneering and discoveries in the field of redstone. Etho is a quirky, intelligent, adaptive individual that has some nervous moments popping out sometimes. Nevertheless, Etho’s knowledge of redstone and architecture is unparalleled and even his colleagues Mumbo and Grian recognized his talent. Etho being very old, sometimes struggles to find something new to do that would stimulate his mind even if that means pushing things to the extreme, sometimes. Regardless, his favorite thing is dropping anvils on unsuspecting hermits via very complex contraptions and he was about to drop one on his friend Scar but he was interrupted by an ethereal voice: “You want to see new horizons? I can help with that. Would you like to accept my challenge?” Etho was confused for a moment but then saw a chest that wasn’t there before. “If you are interested, open it. Never seen before horizons awaits you.” Etho was hesitant for a moment but he just could not resist. As soon as he opened the chest the world around him changed as so did his equipment. He stood in the middle of a jungle with new tools, knowledge and a map in hand. “Find me if you can. And if you succeed i will grant your deepest wish.” Etho looked around and spotted a Llama. “Well, would you  look at that.” And he smirked.

Image made using Heroforge.

[soylent-crocodile]

Animal Conversions- Tyrannosaurus

(Art by Mark Witton)

(The t. rex is statted out as a bite-and-swallower, which is a very humanoid-centric way to view a hunter of huge game. Ive built it as a pugilist, targeting and attacking other big monsters, and given it high constitution of its bulk and endurance. I also included juveniles- ontogenetic niche shifting is something Pathfinder, with its Young Templates and mathematically scaling dragons, is kinda alien to- except for full-on metamorphosis, of course.)

Tyrannosaurus are the most famous of dinosaurs, great predators who go toe-to-toe with other behemoths to get their daily bread; their power and combative excellence makes them as beloved as they are feared. Tyrannosaurs change their behavior and shape as they grow, occupying different niches (and different threats) as juveniles, compared to as adults.

Adult t. rex are rarely a threat to medium-sized creatures such as humanoids; such people are simply too small to be worth the effort of chasing down and eating. Giants, however, are threatened by these great hunters, and caravans using large animals such as elephants are also prime targets for tyrannosaurus attack. Tyrannosaurus are notoriously adept trackers and persistence predators; there are many tales of one slowly following a caravan, waiting for the people and animals to exhaust themselves and stop to rest so it can pick them off at its leisure. Additionally, a brooding adult will often perceive humanoids as threats to their eggs and young and kill them if spotted; however, a brooding adult often means the presence of juveniles…

Juvenile tyrannosaurus are fast agile hunters, notorious for chasing down and killing humanoids and livestock alike. In lands where tyrannosaurus roam, great walls are built to keep juveniles out, and the fittest young adults are often trained to hunt them. 

The typical bounty for a slain juvenile tyrannsaurus is 1,500gp, although it varies based on severity of the issue and resources of the populace. 

The skull of an adult tyrannosaurus is a status symbol for the wealthy and danger-loving; intact and undamaged, it is worth 4,000gp. 

Dinosaur, Tyrannosaurus (Adult)

This colossal beast walks on two muscular legs and gives you a passing glance, its eyes two dots in a powerful set of jaws.

Misc- CR9 TN Gargantuan Animal HD15 Init:-3 Senses: Perception:+15 Low-Light Vision, Scent Aura:  Stats- Str:32(+11) Dex:4(-3) Con:25(+7) Int:2(-4) Wis:17(+3) Cha:16(+3) BAB:+11 Space:20ft Reach:15ft Defense- HP:172(15d8+105) AC:19(-3 Dex, -3 Size, +15 Natural) Fort:+17 Ref:+6 Will:+10 CMD:33  Offense- Bite +20(4d6+16) CMB:+26 Speed:40ft Special Attacks: Crushing Bite Feats- Endurance, Power Attack (-4/+8), Diehard, Weapon Focus (Bite), Iron Will, Improved Initiative, Intimidating Prowess, Vital Strike Skills- Intimidate +17, Perception +15 (+4 Racial bonus to Perception) Special Qualities- Gianthunter Ecology- Environment- Languages- None Organization- Solitary, Pair, Family (2 Adults, 3 1 Juvenile, 1 Young Juvenile) Treasure- None Special Abilities- Crushing Bite (Ex)- A creature dealt damage by a tyrannosaurus’ bite attack must make a DC18 Fortitude save or be staggered for 1 minute. Gianthunter (Ex)- A tyrannousaurus gets a +4 racial bonus to attack rolls made against Huge or larger creatures and to AC against such creatures’ attacks. 

Dinosaur, Tyrannosaurus (Juvenile)

A slender, feathered creature taller than a horse stalks ahead, eyes sharp and hungry.

Misc- CR7 Huge TN Animal HD10 Init:+7 Senses: Perception:+11, Scent, Low-Light Vision Stats- Str:28(+9) Dex:16(+3) Con:24(+7) Int:2(-4) Wis:13(+1) Cha:14(+2) BAB:+7 Space:15ft Reach:10ft Defense- HP:76(7d8+45) AC:21 (-2 Size, +3 Dex, +10 Natural) Fort:+12 Ref:+10 Will:+4 CMD:31 (26 vs Trip) Weakness: Vulnerable to Trip Offense- Bite +14(2d8+13) CMB:+18 Speed:50ft Special Attacks: Preydrivers Feats- Endurance, Intimidating Prowess, Improved Initiative, Power Attack (-3/+6) Skills- Intimidate +12, Stealth +5, Perception +11 (+4 racial bonus to Stealth and Perception) Ecology- Environment- Grassland, Forest (Hot) Languages- None Organization- Solitary, Bachelor Group (2-4) Treasure- None Special Abilities-Preydrivers (Ex)- Juvenile tyrannosaurus often take part in cooperative hunts with adults, where they frighten and distract prey for the adults to capture. At the end of a charge, before making an attack roll, a juvenile tyrannosaurus may make an intimidate check to demoralize against each creature within 60ft of it. Vulnerable to Trip (Ex)- A juvenile tyrannosaurus’ legs are long and slender, but fragile and catch easily. Treat their size as Large for the purpose of trip attempts and takes a -5 penalty to CMD against trip attempts. Additionally, a tripped juvenile tyrannosaurus has a 10% chance to break its leg, reducing its land speed to 10ft and almost invariably leading to starvation in the wild.

[shadowreader23]

Time Travel Barnes? Part 2

19...43,” he hesitated, his eyes dropping low with strong pain and confusion. He was hurting, but not mentally or physically, he was just hurting. The idea, the thought that… if he was in that particular year, in Europe, then… World War II. He was in the middle of World War II. But, then that would mean that the present times’ James Buchanan Barnes was there, depending on ‘where’ in Europe he was.

His eyes snapped wide open an on reflex he grabbed the wrists of the hands that reached out to him, instantly loosening the grip at seeing the woman crying in front of him, focused on him. He was panting harshly, his breath barely taking its’ time and he was panicked. A panic attack. James blinked rapidly and forced himself to ease up, twitchily releasing the hands and letting the woman hesitantly reach again, her cold, dry hands delicately resting on both sides of his jaw with her thumbs being the only skin contact above the balaclava he wore. He forced his breathing to slow, keeping his eyes firmly focused on her as he spoke fast in German. The soldier barely had time to take in her words as he tried to drop his fear, confusion and mild rage at his stupid situation. Though he was sure there had been a ‘calm’ and ‘deep breathes’ said in a shaken tone. Without her needing to even say it, he tried. It impressed him that she had even attempted trying to calm a man that killed another right in front of her. She was something else and he was grateful for the effort.

“Thank you,” James spoke in her tongue, giving a small, single nod as if to acknowledge her. He reached his hands up, resting the gloved flesh palm over hers and being reluctant to touch her with the other. He simply used his two first fingers to carefully remove her hand from his face. He lowered them, giving another nod before taking a last deep breath and turning to glance at the body he disarmed completely.

He needed to pull himself together, there were more men around and they needed to be taken out. He’d make this his mission and try to ignore the fact that he may have time travelled. Though he still had solid doubt about this. And he wouldn’t admit that if it was, he was in complete denial until he saw himself. Which he highly hoped he wouldn’t. If he met himself, what kind of trauma would that bring? He'd be unstable, for sure. If he saw his face from before Hydra, it could really screw him up mentally and that would be bad for everyone. Would it trigger him? How would he react? There were so many questions starting to fill his head.

He couldn't think about it. James pushed the thought and questions to the back of his mind, wanting to get this over with and quietly cleared his throat and easily turned to lift the body by its’ upper torso, his hands slipping under its biceps before standing and walking in a half circle to drag the body to the back of the house, gracelessly dropping it in the empty doorway of the cleaning cupboard. It was out of the way of the door, which he surveyed quickly before bolting the lock and returning to the living room where a gradually calming, but hesitant couple sat against the back of the sofa, huddled low and out of sight of the windows.

James also crept low as he re-entered the room, peeking over to the windows to glance out. Luckily, there weren’t many there, half a troop maybe? Barely passing double digits. From what he could see, there was precisely nine insight, maybe a few out of his view, so all in all, there may have been up to over twenty in his area of the town. He’d have to watch carefully for more. This wasn’t an overly large town, but if he was spotted, he was sure more would come to aid the Germans. Meaning he’d have to fight in the open. He’d rather be a ghost at this current moment, and that idea seemed to work perfectly in the current time. It was dark, passed from day to night and this was perfect for what he had planning. Stealth was his forte, his renowned skill. He was trained for this.

“Stay,” James ordered slightly in the native language, aiming a firm glance at them and getting frantic nods in return. He gave only one back and turned the corner of the couch, crouching his way to the front door. “Lock the door behind me,” was his next order and he heard light shifting behind him. The man came up to his side, seeming fearful and shaken. He swallowed thickly and the soldier reached up, grabbing the handle and easing it open with a very faint ‘click’. He gradually tugged it open and he slipped out into the dark, his raided weapons at the ready. James glanced both ways before darting out towards the gap between two houses across the narrow street, hearing the tiny ‘clicks’ of the door closing and locking behind him. Once hidden he glanced back over, to make sure that his order was obeyed and then saw that it was closed.

He let a silent breath pass his lips, feeling the heat of it gather in his soft mask. He eased his way down between the narrow walls and crouched low, lessening the chances of being caught. James slipped the gun further over his shoulders, making so it would barely move and make a sound, he grabbed one of the two hunting knives and held it tight in his right hand, his grip punishing. He could take this town out in a matter of minutes, easily killing these men with gunfire, but stealth seemed like the better option if there were more civilians alive. Hopefully, the elderly couple weren’t the only ones left breathing. He needed the chance to save these townspeople and doing his job quietly would heighten the possibility.

The soldier reached the other end of the lane-way, already seeing a few men there with wide gaps between them, three easy targets. And one of them didn’t even seem to be paying attention at all. His stance portrayed boredom. They either felt like they were wasting their time there or they were just stupid and didn't think that there was anything worth being alert for in the area. Inexperienced? More than likely.

The man took another quiet breath, easing the tension in his shoulders before peeking out around the corners and glancing for more men. Once he deemed it clear, he gradually edged out, a knife in hand as he closed in. He swiftly slung his left arm around the first, silencing him by easily snapping his neck with faint, sickening ‘crack’. He threw the knife at the next man turning his way in shock, the end piercing through his skull and he quickly darted forward, grabbing the hunting blade and sprinting for the one that had been paying the less attention, holding the knife as he stabbed it through the upper side of his throat.

The first few, swift, subtle and undetectable. He’d dragged the three back to the lane, quickly and quietly pulling each one back to his little hiding place and leaving them there to continue his stealthy takedowns. He continuously used the shadows to his advantage, keeping out of sight.

----------

By early dawn, around four or five in the morning, he was hunched low near the couples house, switching between each home that he’d deduced had people in. James had a patrol and would skulk his way around the small town, keeping vigilant for more Germans. After taking out the last, there were none left in the area. He’d rounded the bodies up and dumped them in a large pile near the barn-like shed, close to the cornfield, which was thankful, out of sight of the roads if more men did decide to appear.

He let a tired sigh leave his lips and he stood, keeping his senses sharp as he crossed the street casually, walking tensely towards the building while pocketing his knife and trying to seem harmless again, even with the mild blood splattering his gear and some skin. He’d hoped that maybe they’d allow him to borrow a shower or bath, to wash it off before leaving. The drizzling rain didn’t seem to wash it off.

James reached out his fist and gently rapped on the wooden door, not having to wait long to see the faintest of movement and the curtain being drawn an inch or so to see an eye peeking out. And within seconds, the door was thrown open and the man was standing there in shock and a curve suddenly grew on his lips. He seemed happy that he was back and with no German soldier in sight. This meant that killing them was the right thing to do. And it would be even right-er if this date was, indeed, 1943. The Nazi were in the wrong.

“Come, come!” the man ushered him inside, a hand carefully reaching up to rest against his upper back to move him faster. The door was closed behind him and re-locked as he was walked across the room towards another back room, through a door to an almost empty, small area. There was a large, long metal bath near the wall, a fire heater below keeping the water hot with steam floating above. The woman was kneeling next to it, messing with the warmth-gauge, as if sorting to a perfect temperature. She quickly looked up at the sound of them entering and she gave him a wary smile, somewhat crooked. Maybe she wasn’t as happy about the idea of him being in their house as the man was. Maybe this was his idea and she was just going along because he saved them. He wouldn’t be that surprised, if so.

James watched as she stood and wiped her hands in her long skirt, seeming to dry them before smiling again and walking past him and out of the room. His theory was just being proved now.

He felt a gentle push at his back and stepped further into the room, the door half closing behind him as he strode closer to the metal tub. He stared at the heated water before turning to glance over his shoulder at the man, watching as he rifled through the drawers in the corner, pulling out a towel and placing it next to the clothes he hadn’t registered were there before. They must’ve guessed his size or gathered a load of old clothes that used to fit the man, assuming that James wouldn’t be any bigger than what the man used to be.

“Get in,” the man urged after noticing the lack of movement, eyeing him a little warily as he just stood there. “My wife won’t let you sleep on the couch or have breakfast with us if you stay like that,” he joked with a light smile, gesturing to his gear and the blood dripping slightly. The man was right and he felt a mass of relief at his words that he’d be able to rest and have a meal, and there were clothes out for him to change into. It was more than he’d expected and he was incredibly grateful. He’d have to thank the woman once he was cleaned up.

James gave the man a slow nod before he started unclipping and unbuttoning his stupidly designed jacket, the zip behind the buttons slipping down easily before he peeled it from the skin of his arm and slid out of it, the sleeveless side practically falling off first. He dropped it at his boots and went about taking them off next, hating out the drying blood seemed to turn into a type of glue after several hours. The redness cracked while he unlaced his boots and dropped them off as well, moving to his shirt and then feeling reluctant at the knowledge of another in a room. He was aware that it shouldn’t bother him, having walked around without shirts on in multiple HYDRA bases. They’d seen the scars and wounds and where the metal met skin, but… he was in a civilian home with a nice couple and he was afraid that he’d scare them more than he had already. This would surely shock the man if anything.

He took a shaky breath and hesitantly reached for the hem of his dark vest, pulling it up and over his body, his torso showing more and more skin was revealed. There was a stifled gasp when it was pulled up to his shoulders and then over his head.

James didn’t dare turn to look at him, afraid of the expression he’d see. He hated the look of fear, and even more… he despised pity and sorrow ‘for’ him.

Instead, he reached for his trousers, unlacing the belt before unbuttoning the button fly and dropping his underwear with the combat pants. He stepped out of his clothes and then reached up to the mask, forgetting that he’d still been wearing it. He slipped it up over his head and dropped it as well before stepping closer to the tub and then gracefully climbing it.

The tension instantly evaporated in the water that uncased him and warmed him. He gradually leaned back and started to relax, feeling everything just sudden drain and he even closed his eyes and took warm, easy breathes. He was vaguely aware that the man had returned to whatever he’d been doing, shifting things, grabbing others. Glancing over tiredly had shown that he’d grabbed the necessities needed to clean oneself, a brush, rag, towel, a razor, scissors if he needed his hair shortened. He wouldn’t use it. He was content with its current length and it was needed if he was in 1943. Shortened hair would be his downfall if he ran into the 107th. He’d be found easily. With longer hair, they’d need a second glance, and by that glance, he could’ve disappeared.

“The sofa should be ready by the time you leave the bath,” the man said, catching his attention. He watched as he gave a wary smile and then turned to leave, closing the door behind him.

James was incredibly grateful for this, he was content for once. He hadn’t felt this calm in a long time. He’d realized that he wasn’t being chased, wasn’t being controlled. He’d saved the remains of a town and was rewarded with a hot, much-needed bath and he was allowed to rest and relax for the first time in a long time. This felt simple to him and it was nice. He hoped that it would be just as simple when he returned to Steve… ‘if’ he returned to Steve. He would check in on him if he could, and then be on his way. He didn’t seem like a wanted man here, that was a sure thing.

Once James was well rested, he’d see if anyone needed any help, maybe bury the bodies and burn the German soldiers in a pit, cover their corpses and get rid of the scent of death. He’d like to pull more of his weight after being rewarded with a bath and a pillow to lie on.

He gave a warm sigh and sank further into the water, his hair slipping in and getting soaked as he dank his head under and letting the water cover him completely for a moment before resurfacing and threading his metal hand through his drenched hair. Just looking down at the surface brought a furrow to his brow-line, seeing the remnants of red fading in the water, the blood dispersing and spreading, fading until there was only clear again. Glancing at his metal arm, he saw the watered down pinkish tint of soaked blood, gradually dripping and fading from the metal. The blood was the only constant thing in his life, and just thinking about it gave him a grim image, the Winter Soldier, the suit he wore, the blood covered gear and metal and the mask. It wasn’t a nice thing to see and he quickly dunked himself back under the water, his hands gradually ghosting over his skin and arm to get the blood off of him.

He wasn’t that man anymore, not the Winter Soldier, nor Bucky Barnes of the 107th, Steve Rogers’ best friend and Sergeant of the Howling Commandos. He was none of those. Just James...

… he may need to change that if he really was in 1943, and ran into the platoon, which he doubted would happen, but if it did then… having the same face and name as the Sergeant would seem more than a little coincidental.

Jamie, Jimmy, Jefferson, Jack… he’d have to think on that one. He could easily just use Barnes as his last name, maybe pass himself off as a relative or twin that was separated years ago. And he could easily play dumb at seeing the man if they had a run-in. Act surprised, shocked. Maybe he could wear his balaclava and avoid confrontation altogether. Seemed simpler.

He’d have to ask the couple of ‘where’ they were in 1943 to be sure that there wasn’t a run-in. James was more than sure that seeing his own face at this point would be bad. He was still unstable that'd only make him more so and he was fine without any more identity issues. He had so many already and if he'd run into himself, it'd only add to it. He could barely remember how he used to be in this timeline. How he used to act around people, specific people as well as ordinary and the German's. How was he meant to handle seeing himself? How would he process it?

[where-is-caithe]

Does anybody wanna read the 6 pages of Eon's backstory I've written down? No? Yeah you do, here goes.

No one is gonna come after me for inaccurate Fractal lore. You're not gonna say anything about inaccurate Fractal lore.

-

Eon is an Ash Legion charr who never knew their parents and started out as a pretty basic thief. Their specialty was smoke and invisibility, disorienting and blinding enemies and sneaking in for the kill. As they grew up, their magic abilities grew and it became obvious from other charr that they have some relation to a Flame Legion smoke shaman, starting with their talent for smoke and thief magic and showing in the horns growing from their shoulders. It never really bothered them, they always thought the horns on their shoulders were kind of cool, and while knowing that how they looked would probably prevent them from climbing ranks, they were content taking orders. 

In the early years, they were the picture-perfect soldier, not questioning anything and following orders perfectly. Their warband, the Shear warband, consisted of Maverick, Dinky, Clawspur, Euryale, Reeva, and Howl, their Legionnaire. The seven of them were tight-knit like any warband, and each would defend the others with their lives. They were a good warband, and right out of the fahrar they proved their worth in a seek and kill mission in Fireheart Rise, deep in Flame Legion territory. They were a trusted ‘band, often getting orders straight from Malice, instead of a Tribune. Within a few years of being out of the fahrar, they were one of the top warbands of the Ash Legion, and Howl had been promoted to Centurion. Put simply, the Shear warband is to Malice, what Ryland’s Steel warband is to Bangar.

Eon had a good relationship with each member of their warband, they were family after all, but their most trusted friend was Maverick, who they would spend a lot of time sparring and joking around with, they both had terrific egos and always thought the other was the worse fighter/sidekick. Maverick, Eon, Reeva, Dinky and Howl would spend a lot of time sparring together during downtime. Clawspur and Eon were both thieves, and they would both train each other by sneaking up on the other, as well as sitting together in silence. They were the two who would sneak the warband into places, taking turns throwing invisibility spells and smoke. Eon would also use their stealth to sneak up on and bother Euryale, teasing her and getting her temper flaring, it was good practice to dodge an elementalist. Joking and butting heads (literally) with Reeva was another pastime of theirs. 

Sometime between 1320 and 1325, the Shear warband was given new orders to investigate an intriguing new discovery that Ash Legion spies had heard about, the Fractals of the Mists. It was currently an ongoing investigation and the Ash Legion was curious to see how it could benefit the Legions, whether this discovery could be a new training ground or something similar. The operation had been planned months in advance, and the goal was to be the defense team for a group of asura researchers venturing into the Fractals and uncover what their potential is. It was a pretty standard set-up, a protection mission that doubled as espionage, and their cover was a Blood Legion warband. Once they reached the research team in Lion’s Arch, Howl did all of the talking and the operation had a smooth start. It was only once the team had entered through an unstable portal in Fort Mariner that it went to shit.

The group consisted of ten asura, a small golem with equipment, and the warband of seven charr. It was a pretty large group, but the warband was confident and trusted in their Imperator’s intel. The intel turned out to be slightly flawed, as they were under the impression that there had been multiple excursions already into the Fractals and there was a base currently set up. This was not the case, it turned out that there had only been one or two krewes sent in and neither had made it back out. The base as well was still in the early stages of development, meaning they didn’t even have a stable means to get to it and hadn’t begun construction. This was all revealed during the first Fractal they stumbled into.

Howl led the team through the entrance portal and immediately into a firefight. He was killed before anyone knew what was happening. It was a dark cavern swarming with Destroyers, a Fractal of an Asuran underground city being overrun. Ignoring their fallen Legionnaire, the warband fought off the Destroyers and retreated into a tunnel, away from the main cavern and away from the remnants of the lost asura city. Two of the researchers were killed during the fight, and with the warband at six members, their group was down to fourteen and a golem.

Out of the fighting for the moment, the asura revealed a bit more detail on the Fractals. From the data collected from previous krewes (posthumously), it was believed that to leave a Fractal, you had to “stabilize” it, playing out what was happening by continuing a fight, ending it, or resolving whatever the Fractal was doing. The original plan was to go into a Fractal and leave it by this method while taking as many readings as possible using the equipment brought by the researchers stored in the golem. Technically still the plan, but with less people. Had to see the bigger picture.

With no time to mourn, the warband unanimously gave leadership to Maverick, and his first command was to follow the directions of the asura krewe, complete the Fractal, and get the hell out.

The rest of the Fractal went fine, now that they knew what was going on, but the completion of it did not let them out. Transported to another time, another place, the group felt any hope they held of leaving die with the comrades they left in the Asuran city.

The only way was forward. None of them knew how long it had been, no one knew if it was over months, days, or even years that they were trapped there. Sometimes the Fractals would be fought easily, they would finish one and be sent straight into another, and sometimes they wouldn’t be sent to another. Occasionally they would be trapped in one Fractal for days. With every completion, it would restart. There were bad ones. Losses.

Reeva was the next of the warband to die. As they were retreating away from a swarm of Grawl, shielded by Dinky’s guardian magic, Reeva sacrificed herself to distract them. She was never seen again, and Euryale was never the same.

In a particularly bad Fractal, one that pushed the warband to their limits, they lost more than half of the remaining asura, the golem, as well as Clawspur, Euryale, and Dinky. The enemy was a creature from the depths of the Jade Sea, something none of them had ever even heard of before, and its attacks went right through Dinky’s shield as he tried desperately to protect his comrades. Only Maverick and Eon remained after that, and they both did their best to keep each other afloat while mourning their brothers and sisters, and protect their charges.

It was like that for weeks. Maverick and Eon leading the asura team through Fractal after Fractal, hoping they would somehow be sent back home through one of them. Neither of them slept much during this time, and food was scarce, they scavenged whatever they could find in the Fractals and packed bags with any food they could carry. Sometimes they’d be in a Fractal with plenty of resources, and they would make the decision to stay for a while, until they were attacked again and had to fight their way through it.

During this time, Eon’s abilities were evolving. Possibly due to their exposure to the unstable magics around them, but it wasn’t affecting Maverick as much, despite him improving his fighting style as well. Eon began to use mesmer-like magical abilities. Their invisibility was more stable, and as they improved, they began to slightly manipulate time and space. Weaving portals and teleporting, invisibility and summoning weapons, being in this environment was giving them a boost to a magic they’d been born with. It made traversing the Fractals that much easier. Maverick’s new fighting as well, through a bit of training in a Fractal in Elona, he had discovered abilities to counteract magical attacks. They became a good team and they didn’t lose anyone for a long time because of it.

In a Fractal fighting against humans in Ascalon, Eon was splashed across the face with hot oil, Maverick dragged them away screaming while two of the asura watched their backs. One of them didn’t make it, but the other helped wrap the wound and with Eon blindfolded, the four fought through the Fractal to its completion. For days after that, Eon would be virtually blind, using their sense of smell and touch as well as various illusions and tips from Maverick and the asura. As they healed it became clear that the scar was starting to look like a rift of space. Once it was fully healed, it was much clearer. It worried all of them. There was no way of knowing what was happening to them, but it was obvious the constant exposure to the chaos of the Fractals was affecting them. They’d run across beings within the Fractals that were made entirely of space and all of them secretly wondered if that would eventually be them too.

It was maybe another month, no one really knows, time is strange in the Fractals and they have no real frame of reference, before everything went to shit again.

Maverick was killed, and with him, the remaining asura. There was a demon. That was all Eon knew. They killed it. The Fractal stabilized. Eon picked up their brother’s broken sword as the world changed again and continued alone.

It’s unknown how long they were alone. They stopped keeping track. 

Fractal after Fractal they fought, determined to reach the end of it. To reach home eventually.

They were tired. Their family was dead. Everything they’d ever known was gone. They were trapped and they could never go home. They laid down in a dry cave, holding their brother’s sword close, and they went to sleep.

“He-hello? Are you there?”

Eon’s eyes shot open.

“You’re... an anomaly? You’re not supposed to be in this Fractal. I’ve been studying it for weeks.”

They sat up fully, clutching the sword close, “yes.” Their voice was hoarse and scratchy from lack of use.

“I think I can pull you out. Stand by.”

They felt the familiar feeling of going through a portal, and suddenly they were met with a dark sky full of stars, a rock formation floating in the middle of space, asura lab equipment and golems. The voice they heard called out to them and they looked up to see an asura with large eyes and braided hair.

“How long were you in there?”

Eon wasn’t listening. They saw the pink of a portal shimmering behind her at the edge of the rocky cliffside. They stepped over the asura, not even bothering looking in her direction, let alone answering her question, and they sprinted for the portal. They were faster than the golem that began to chase, and they felt vertigo for a moment as they went through.

They knew they were out the moment their feet hit the cobblestone of Fort Mariner, the unfamiliar smell of Lion’s Arch with the salty breeze and the sound of the low waves lapping against stone, they knew they were out. They fell to the ground on their hands and knees, breathing heavily and shaking, choking on a sob as their vision blurred with tears.

 The feeling of the Mists was gone.

They sat on the shore in Lion’s Arch for hours, sifting through their thoughts. Sifting through what happened. Everything was different now. They felt nothing but rage for the Legions. They felt guilty for being the sole survivor, but they ultimately blamed the Legions. They had to go back and tell them what happened. They didn’t even know how long they’d been gone. The team was supposed to be back in a matter of hours, or days at most. Eon doesn’t even know how long they were in there.

The journey to the Black Citadel was uneventful, but when they reached the Ash Tribune’s office in the Core, the air in the room was thick and silent. Eon knew they looked like hell, but as the sole remaining member of one of the top warbands, they knew they were recognized.

They gave their report to Tribunes Torga and Makk.

They were informed that a few weeks after the warband had departed, they came across more intel about the group they’d been sent with. They were an Inquest asura krewe, not part of the official Lion’s Arch or Consortium team studying how to utilize Fractals. The Inquest were attempting their own way into them for study and experimentation, which is why it went downhill so quickly. They weren’t using the safe channels to go through them, they were cutting corners, and it cost Eon’s entire warband.

Eon left the Black Citadel after this. The Tribunes informed them that it had only been six months since they’d left, and that they would be expecting a full written report and they would be contacting Eon again to do missions for the Legion. They would not be doing that.

They went to the Durmand Priory, needing to be as far away from the Legions as they could be, and wanting to study what had happened to them in the Mists, what their new magic was and to hone their abilities further. The Priory was interested in their experiences and gave them membership. Eon remains a member to this day. (These events cause Eon to skip the levels 10-30 personal story missions and are immediately thrown into the 40+ story missions, leading to them becoming the Commander).

[thecreaturecodex]

Millindemalion

Image © Paizo Publishing, accessed at Archives of Nethys here

[Another Wonderland-y monster after the astrosphinx, this is 2e Pathfinder's take on a decidedly madder than usual Mad Hatter. This is one of my favorite monsters in Bestiary 3, and the conversion is fairly close. My main change was to make the status effects it can inflict with its hats a little nastier, as befits a CR 13 monster.]

Millindemalion CR 13 NE Fey This little gnome-like man has leathery skin with discolored lesions on his face and hands. He wears a hat almost as tall as he is, and carries a pair of shears.

There are plenty of stories about kindly fairies assisting mortals to make clothing, clean homes, or even spin straw into gold. When these friendly house fey are abused and mistreated, they may go sour. Boggarts are the most famous of these, but a powerful variant is the millindemalion. Millindemalions are created through exposure to toxic metals, especially the mercury used in hat production. A millindemalion can rapidly create magical hats that force other creatures into strange and disruptive behavior.

A millindemalion is more than capable of just stabbing people to death, and its magical shears are nasty weapons. Still, they prefer to torture rather than to kill, using their magical hats to force their victims to slow down, attack their allies, or simply blind them with animated flaps. Few millindemalions are willing to fight to the death, and often fight using hit and run tactics to minimize full attacks.

All millindemalions have a mania for hats: making them, collecting them, showing them off. Some make hats from the fur, feather and skins of their victims, whereas others slip contact poison into the hats for sale in reputable haberdasheries. They look enough like gnomes that they can disguise themselves as one with relatively little effort. A magical hat may be used as a bribe to gain a millindemalion’s favor, and a millindemalion who desires to disrupt people’s behavior for longer than a few seconds at a time may be on the look for cursed magical headgear.

Millindemalion CR 13 XP 25,600 NE Small fey Init +8; Senses low-light vision, Perception +28 Defense AC 28, touch 20, flat-footed 19(+1 size, +8 Dex, +1 dodge, +8 natural) hp 178(21d6+105) Fort +11, Ref +18, Will +14 DR 10/cold iron and magic; Immune confusion and insanity effects, curses; SR 24 Defensive Abilities unsettling mind Offense Speed 30 ft. Melee +1 combat shears +19/+14 (1d4+5/17-20x3) Special Attacks hat toss, sneak attack +5d6 Statistics Str 19, Dex 27, Con 19, Int 24, Wis 18, Cha 14 Base Atk +10; CMB +13; CMD 43 Feats Combat Expertise,Defensive Combat Training,Dodge, Exotic Weapon Proficiency (combat shears) (B), Improved Critical (combat shears), Improved Feint, Mobility, Point Blank Shot, Shot on the Run, Spring Attack, Toughness, Weapon Finesse Skills Acrobatics +32, Bluff +26, Climb +28, Craft (hats) +31, Diplomacy +26, Disguise +26, Intimidate +26, Knowledge (local) +31, Perception +28, Sense Motive +28, Sleight of Hand +32, Spellcraft +31, Stealth +36 Languages Aklo, Common, Gnome, Sylvan Ecology Environment any land and urban Organization solitary or pair Treasure standard (+1 combat shears, other treasure) Special Abilities Hat Toss (Su) As a move action, a millindemalion can create a magical hat. It can then throw this hat as an attack action, treating it as a ranged touch attack with a thrown weapon with a range increment of 20 feet. A creature struck by the hat must succeed a DC 22 Will save or the hat magically attaches itself to the creature’s head, inflicting one of the following conditions for 1d4+1 rounds: Befuddling Bowler: The creature suffers a -6 penalty to Wisdom. Bewitching Bonnet: The creature is charmed by the millindemalion. Dazzling Deerstalker: The creature is blinded. Fettering Fedora: The creature suffers a -10 foot penalty to all its speeds. Maddening Mortarboard: The creature is confused (as the confusion spell). Tiring Tricorne: The creature is exhausted. A hat cannot be removed during its duration except through the use of a remove curse spell or similar effect. Once the duration expires or the hat is removed, or if the hat fails to hit a creature, it crumbles into scraps of fabric.  A creature can only wear one of these hats at a time, but these hats do not interfere with magic items in the head or headband slot. A millindemalion can have as many magical hats as its Intelligence modifier in existence at a time. This is a curse effect, and the save DC is Charisma based. Unsettling Mind (Ex) A creature reading a millindemalion’s thoughts must succeed a DC 22 Fortitude save or take 5d10 points of damage. Whether or not the creature succeeds the save, it learns nothing unless the millindemalion allows it. This is a mind-influencing effect, and the save DC is Charisma based.

New Weapon—Combat Shears Light melee exotic weapon; 10 gp; dmg 1d4 (Small)/ 1d6 (Medium); critical 19-20x3; damage slashing and piercing.

[paperanddice]

Berstuc look like hulking, moss-haired humanoids, usually muscular but universally broad-shouldered and muscular. Their head is covered in moss, wrapping around in the appearance of hair, usually hanging down to almost its waist from both head and chin. Despite their great size and imposing looks, they have a serene, almost soothing presence, and are immediately loved by plants and animals. This is a cover for the fact that they are one of the most insidious and dangerous kinds of demons, stalking woodlands and jungles to lure victims to their deaths.

Often a berstuc will pose as a benevolent forest spirit, politely greeting travellers through the forest it has chosen to hunt and allowing itself to be persuaded into providing directions or even acting as a guide for them. It will suggest secret locations deep within the forest, or find rapid shortcuts through dangerous terrain, only to turn its victims around and get them hopelessly lost before betraying them. Some berstuc simply strike the instant they've led their prey deep enough, while others will disappear suddenly and stalk the now lost party with glee. Wildlife seem to bend to the berstuc's whim, attacking the outsiders at its direction and harrying foes while the false forest spirit prepares for its battle.

Inspired by the Tome of Beasts 1. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Pathfinder 2e

Berstuc (Plant Demon) Creature 11 Large, Demon, Fiend, Plant, Unholy Perception +19; darkvision Languages Abyssal, Common, Sylvan, telepathy 100 feet, speak with animals, speak with plants Skills Athletics +23, Deception +21, Stealth +15 (+21 in forests), Survival +25 Str +6, Dex +0, Con +5, Int +1, Wis +2, Cha +4 Twisted Path (divine) The berstuc always gains the benefits of Cover Tracks in natural surroundings, even when moving at full speed. Creatures that travel with the berstuc for 1 hour become lost; for 24 hours, the DC for such creatures to Sense Direction is the berstuc's Survival DC if that's higher than the normal DC. AC 31; Fort +24, Ref +18, Will +21; +1 status to all saves vs. magic HP 232; Immunities poison; Weaknesses cold iron 10, holy 10 False Presence Animals and plants with an Intelligence below -3 do not attack the berstuc unless attacked first or ordered to by Command an Animal. Attempts to Command an Animal to attack the berstuc use the berstuc's Will DC instead of the animal's. Forest Survival Vulnerability A berstuc revels in allowing natural environments to kill travelers. If the berstuc ends its turn within 60 feet of a creature under the effects of the show the way spell or similar magic, or a creature within 60 feet of it succeeds on a Sense Direction or Command an Animal check, the berstuc takes 10d6 mental damage. Speed 35 feet, burrow 20 feet Melee claw +23 (magical, reach 10 feet, unholy), Damage 2d10+12 slashing plus Grab Divine Innate Spells DC 29, attack +21 ; 6th florishing flora, nature's pathway, tangling creepers; 5th dehydrate, translocate; 4th translocate (at will); 3rd putrefy food and drink (at will); 2nd entangling flora (at will), one with plants (at will), shape wood (at will); 1st lose the path (at will); cantrips (6th) tangle vine, timber Constant speak with animals, speak with plants Divine Rituals DC 29; demonic pact Swallow Whole [1 action] Medium 2d8+8 bludgeoning, Rupture 28

13th Age

Berstuc  Large 7th level blocker [demon]  Initiative: +9 Floral Fist +12 vs. AC (2 attacks) - 22 damage and the berstuc can grab the target. When the berstuc starts its turn grabbing an enemy, it can make an absorb attack against that target as a standard action that turn. [Special Trigger] Absorb +16 vs. PD (includes +4 grab bonus) - 45 damage and the berstuc absorbs the target into its body (hard save ends, 16+). While absorbed, it takes 4d8 damage at the start of its turn and is stuck, hampered, and unable to attack or effect anything outside of the berstuc (and vice-versa). If an absorbed creature deals at least 25 damage to the berstuc on its turn, it gains a +10 bonus to its save to escape. Burrower. False Presence: Nature icons cannot provide any assistance against the berstuc, as it can disguise itself from their gaze perfectly. Resist Lightning 16+. AC 24 PD 23 MD 17 HP 172

[justicegundam82]

Starfinder to PF1 Conversion: Despondaemon

Another conversion from me, and this time, I'll be looking to Starfinder in order to convert a creature from there. I was quite impressed by the Despondaemon (from the Starfinder AP #45, "The Culling Shadow"), and I thought it could have been an interesting challenge to convert. Besides, it kinda represents a very vexing real-world evil...

Please tell me what you think. I think I might have botched the feats...

DAEMON, DESPONDAEMON

Image © Paizo Publishing, taken from "Starfinder #55: The Culling Shadow", page 55

What just a second ago looked like a huge mound of sand surges to life, as two gem-like eyes blink open and a cavernous mouth opens in a terrifying yawn.

DESPONDAEMON CR 8

XP 4’800

NE Huge Outsider (daemon, evil, extraplanar)

Init -1; Senses blindsight 60 ft., darkvision 60 ft., emotional empathy; Perception +15

DEFENSE

AC 20, touch 7, flat-footed 20 (-1 Dex, +13 natural, -2 size)

hp 104 (11d10+44)

Fort +11, Ref +2, Will +9

Damage Reduction 10/good;

Immune acid, death effects, disease, poison; Resist cold 10, electricity 10, fire 10; Spell Resistance 19

Defensive Abilities amorphous, harden exterior

OFFENSE

Speed 20 ft., burrow 10 ft.

Melee slam +16 melee (3d6+10 plus grab)

Space 15 ft.; Reach 15 ft.

Special Attacks psychic warfare, swallow whole (3d6+10 bludgeoning, AC 17, 10 hp)

Spell-like Abilities (CL 11th, concentration +14)

At will – greater teleport (self plus 50 lbs. of objects only)

3/day – crushing despair (DC 14), death knell (DC 15), vampiric touch

1/day – confusion (DC 16), summon (level 3, 1 despondaemon or 1d3 lacridaemon, 35%)

STATISTICS

Str 24, Dex 9, Con 18, Int 5, Wis 15, Cha 14

Base Atk +11; CMB +20 (+22 overrun); CMD 29 (31 vs. overrun, cannot be tripped)

Feats Cleave, Great Cleave, Improved Overrun, Lunge, Power Attack, Skill Focus (Stealth)

Skills Intimidate +11, Perception +15, Sense Motive +13, Stealth +6 (+14 in deserts), Survival +10; Racial Modifiers +4 Sense Motive, +8 Stealth in deserts;

Languages Abyssal, Common, Infernal, telepathy 100 ft.

Special Qualities compression, emotional empathy

ECOLOGY

Environment any (Abaddon)

Organization solitary

Treasure incidental

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Emotional Empathy (Su) A despondaemon can intuitively read the emotions of those it senses with its blindsight, knowing what emotion the target is experiencing at any given moment. As a result, a despondaemon has a +4 racial bonus on any Sense Motive check.

Harden Exterior (Ex) As a swift action, a despondaemon can harden its exterior, granting it a +2 circumstance bonus on its AC but halving its speed. The despondaemon can end this effect as a swift action.

Psychic Warfare (Su) A creature swallowed by a despondaemon is telepathically assaulted by the daemon, constantly hearing voices that urge her to surrender so that it can feed on her. A creature inside the despondaemon’s gizzard must make a Will save (DC 17) at the start of each turn or become shaken for that round. The save DC is Charisma-based.

A despondaemon is a particularly loathsome kind of daemon that, rather than representing a specific kind of death, is created from the souls of obstructive bureaucrats and incompetent pencil-pushers who prioritized bureaucracy and useless, time-consuming formalities over the well-being of people. In life, they drove well-meaning people to ruination and caused avoidable deaths and suffering with their insistence in following obtuse protocol; now, in their afterlife, they have been transformed in unreasoning beasts, since they refused to use reason and common sense to reach an easier and more compassionate solution to otherwise simple matters. And much like they suffocated people with endless paperwork and pointless consistency, they now literally suffocate their prey in their semisolid bodies.

A despondaemon is a direct combatant. It slowly approaches prey or simply waits for its victims to get close, before surging out of the sand and try to gulp down its prey. Victims swallowed by a despondaemon constantly hear the monster’s telepathic voice, urging them to surrender and let themselves die so that it can feed on them and that “the proper order is kept”. In the dismal wastes and deserts of Abaddon, these creatures mostly feed on petitioners, but they much prefer living and sentient prey. They consider people suffering from depression to be particularly delicious morsels and target them whenever possible, using their strange empathetic senses to single them out.

Despondaemons are made of living sand, and as such don’t have a fixed form, but they usually resemble mounds of sand about 10 feet in diameter and weighing several tons.

[beetlesau]

SoulBox

BakugoXreader

2.2k words, f!reader, ummmm, not proofread- not now not eva.

no warnings as of now other than I make this stuff up as I go and I am sorry. OH! so the quirk I've given reader is basically the dash from Hollow Knight, a really cute fun indie game. Just expanded on that it's a sort of fast travel, but not a warp quirk since those are really rare. Good stealth quirk.

---------------------------------------------------- Chapta 1 The Wrapper

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you were younger, you dreamed of meeting your soulmate and living happily ever after.

A girl in your class, Koya, who had just turned five, got her quirk one day and her SoulBox the very next.

Her parents threw her a party to celebrate the following weekend. Everyone in the class was there.

You anxiously waited to see what her box looked like after all the parents fawned over her flashy quirk.

A couple of other girls, thankfully, were also more interested in the box. Once your small group of girls could pull Koya away, you all huddled in her elaborate princess fort.

"Well? Can we see it?"

"Was it expensive?"

"HAVE YOU--"

"Shhh!"

"Sorry. Have you written a letter yet?"

The anticipation had you all bursting at the seams.

The SoulBox.

A trademarked name for the selling of *usually* a box. Of course, any hollow and closed vessel would do when it came to communication with your soulmate(s), but leave it to the money-hungry to find a way to sell love.

Boxes come in many shapes and sizes, different colors, different textures, boxes with screw-on lids or slide-on, boxes with locks, whatever your heart desired, there was likely a box for it.

What's the box about, you might ask?

Well, as stated, it's a way to communicate with your soulmate(s).

Someone takes a letter, a note, or a small trinket, and places it inside their vessel. The key to creating a SoulBox is intent. You desire to speak with your soulmate, you focus as you place your first letter inside your vessel, or box in this day and age, and tada! you have your communication device. A two-way street between you and the love of your life!

The fortunate thing for companies that specialize in sales of SoulBoxes is banking on the number of people who want a new box every year.

Why soulmate(s) you wonder? How can there be more than one? Why not keep the same box every year? What, people want holiday boxes? Limited edition?

(Well, yes. Some people DO obsess over the newest box design.)

But, you see, the idea of a soulmate is what's being sold. The REALITY is that there are a certain number of people throughout the world that can be your person.

There are no "perfect matches." There are only choices.

When someone buys a box and puts their intent into it, they get connected with one of the many picks the universe has provided just for them.

If they decide they are happy, they keep their box, and the two can meet and spend their lives together.

If not, well, that's where the money lies.

If you decide, for whatever reason, the person on the other end of your box does not meet your needs any longer. You simply need to destroy the box. Only then can you reclaim another one, and the universe connects you to a different match.

The highest record so far for most SoulBoxes bought is a whopping 82.

(He was a wealthy middle-aged man who never learned to be content and happy with what life's given him, but this isn't about him.)

No, this is about you.

You watched as Koya pulled out a little pink glittering box, her name embroidered on the side in purple letters. The way you could tell it was expensive had you swooning. An expensive pretty princess box to match her expensive pretty princess lifestyle. 

It wasn't exactly something you gave much thought to yourself, but you'd overheard your mother gossiping on one of your playdates. She said since Koya's father was a 'big wig' at the SoulBox corp. that that would mean she'd be in the media spotlight for the rest of her life, an example that the Box works. She also said that she felt sorry for her because of it, although to you, it sounded like the best thing in the world. The box would work for you, and you'd be delighted to have the world see you happy with the love of your life. 

Nothing in your life mattered until the day your quirk finally manifested a whopping forty-three days after your fifth birthday. Yes, you were counting. 

Your parents congratulated you on your ability to 'phase through walls' who cares. Your body's cells broke apart into their tiniest little forms in a haze of black as you could dash from one spot to another in less than a second. Had you been at all interested, you would have acknowledged the beauty and practicality of it. All you could think about was getting your first SoulBox.

Your mother assured you that just because you got your quirk did not mean you had to get your box, and that Koya's situation was not the standard. 

You can recall crying for three days straight after hearing that. 

Your parents debated one night, weighing the pros and cons of getting you a box so early in your life. 

An agreement was made if you promised to follow their rules for communicating with whoever you found on the other end of the box. 

One, NO personal information was to be shared. They didn't need to know where you lived and you didn't need to know that about them. 

Two, NO talking to your SoulMate for more than thirty mins a day. It wasn't healthy to obsess over someone at such a young age. (Or any age for that matter.)

Three, any and all conversation was to be monitored and supervised by a parent. 

You agreed vehemently to all conditions. 

At long last, on a Monday, at three-twenty-five in the afternoon, after she picked you up from work, your mother took you to the local SoulBox shop.

You could hardly breathe as you took in the sights around you. The month was coming up close to yet another holiday and the shop had just transitioned its decor to match. You found a display of every color box you could imagine stacked in a brilliant pyramid. Next to that were a dozen cubbies that held accessories to match. Glitter pens, scented paper, and keychains that could attach to your pen or box if you bought a specially made one. There were jelly box covers, furry and fuzzy ones, every little child's dream could be found in this shop you felt like. In another corner were the Hero-themed boxes. A cardboard cutout of All-Might stood front and center to entice little ones to check out the collection there. 

"Oh dear." your mother muttered under her breath. 

She didn't understand the appeal, she had never had a box. She met your father the old-fashioned way as she called it, and had never needed one. You fantasized that even if she had had a box, it would have led her to your father regardless. 

You picked up a box, one slightly larger than the one Koya had received for her birthday, and held it up to your mother. 

"I love this one! Please, mommy!?"

Your mother took the box and examined it. You watched as her eyes grew large and her mouth contorted into a pencil-thin line when she saw the price tag. 

"I'm so sorry sweety... Uh, perhaps you could look in the discount bin for mommy?" she looked down at you sadly.

You knew that look. A look that told you she was disappointed in herself for the things she could provide for you, or the lack thereof. 

You hated that look. 

You may have wanted a box more than anything in the world, but you never, not once, wanted your parents to feel like you were ungrateful for whatever they could provide to you. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat that yearned for the shiny new box, put on a smile, and nodded excitedly. "Okay!" you stated before running off the find said bin. 

Now, as a child, no one would have described you as quiet. You loved frilly fabrics and bright colors. You loved all that glowed and shined. Sure, you mostly grew out of that by the time we get to the present day, but in that store, you were all things soft and fuzzy. 

Which is why your mom was a bit shocked when you picked out the box you did. 

As you dug through the bin of disorganized boxes, many bent or dented, crooked and scuffed, some with the wrong lid or missing one altogether, your eyes caught something. 

You reached your short little arms to the max as your fingertips barely caught hold of it at the bottom of the bin. 

It was an off-white cream color. A box made cheaply enough that in a few years, it would turn an unappealing shade of faded yellow like parchment paper. You held it in your hands. It was small, barely larger than a rubix's cube. It even had a small dent in one of its corners. 

By all rights, it was hideous. 

But it was the only one in the bin that had that off-white color, and that meant something to you. 

Sure, it didn't matter what box you chose. Once you put intent in any container you get connected with a preordained Soul. But that didn't stop the gut feeling you had. The connection to the box. 

They say when you feel that connection to a box, your connected Soulmate is truly the one. (They say that to sell more boxes, but you believed it.)

The chosen runt of the litter box was so cheap the cashier slipped a keychain in the bag that was free after spending a certain higher amount in-store. 

"Might as well get something decent out of this purchase." she chuckled to your mom, waving you off and bidding you a wonderful day. 

Finally. At long last. You sat at your kitchen table, and your parents sat on either side of you, waiting for your first message to be sent. 

....

....

"I can't think of anything to say." you sighed, exasperated after a while. 

"Why not start with a simple, 'Hello'?" your father asked. 

"!!! Dad no! It's my Soulmate! It has to be perfect. The perfect message." you fussed at him like it was obvious.

He opened his mouth, brows furrowed, then let out a held breath. "Alright, suppose you're right." he gave up, shaking his head. There was no arguing with you, his little girl. 

After an eternity, your parents shared a look, then decided maybe they could relent on one of their rules, just this once. 

"Um, sweetie, I know we said you could only communicate with supervision, but mm it is getting kind of late. Maybe you could take the box with you to your room and that'll help you come up with the perfect thing to say, hm?"

After all, what amount of trouble could two children get into at this young age over a box? 

You held the box tightly in your hands as you stared up at the ceiling. 

You tried to imagine who would be on the other side. 

You wanted them to have dark hair. 

Kind eyes, like your dad's. You loved the freckles that your mom passed on to you, so you hoped they would have lots of them too. 

Without a doubt, they would be the kindest person you'd ever meet. 

Suddenly you got an idea. You bolted upright, turning to search your nightstand for the bag your box had come in. 

Inside was still the little keychain that was given to you. You examined it, turns out it was a little All-Might New Year Holiday Special Costume edition keychain. It wasn't rare by any means, but it had that year's date stamped on it in a way that made it look like the hero was holding it above his head. 

It was perfect. 

What better way to say hello than to send the nation's top hero? His popular video online was even him saying "I am here." which is exactly the message you wanted to send!

Proudly you placed the keychain in the box, elated by the way it fits perfectly inside. 

You then held the box to your chest and shut your eyes so tight you could see stars behind your eyelids. 

"Intent. Intent. Intent." you chanted under your breath. "I hope this finds you well," you repeated something your mom suggested to you earlier at the table to help the connection form. 

After several moments you finally relinquished your death grip on the box and opened it back up. 

The surprise and excitement hit you at once when you saw that the keychain was gone, and was instead replaced by a crumpled-up wad of chewing gum paper. 

Eagerly taking the paper you were sure there would be a note of great value written on what would normally be trash turned treasure. 

Confusion replaced excitement when you found it to be blank.

It was just... a wrapper. It was just trash? Maybe it was an accident. Maybe they were so excited they dropped their trash in by mistake and .... put the lid on their box... and.. sent... uh, SOMETHING happened by mistake. That was all. You would wait for another message. 

You hopped out of bed and pulled your little toy jewelry box from your messy closet, where inside you found a locket necklace your mom had let you borrow once. (You were still borrowing it, you told yourself)

You placed the gum wrapper inside the locket and put the necklace on. 

You slept with it around your neck. 

Maybe it was trash, but in your eyes, it was the first message of many to come.

[is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not]

ZERACHIEL - Liminal Spaces

"How much farther?" asked Zerachiel. They stalked slowly through the streets of Sur-La-Rivière. Their clawed feet tapped delicately at the road surface, putting only the needed about of pressure down, no more. They did this not out of caution or stealth - for they were radiating on all sensor frequencies and had no ECM active - but care. In what was likely a deliberate throwback to truly ancient towns of Terran Europe, the streets here were made of cobblestone. It wouldn't do to ruin them, even to gain a bit more speed.

"A few hundred kilometers," said Rusty. "But that's a few hundred kilometers into mountains. So it'll be slow. Estimates are a few days if we take things slow and safe. No indication the SLDF has expanded beyond the Coen region. Recon flights have been spotted coming over the mountains, but they're still bottled up in there."

"We still have communication with the forts in the region, correct?" Zerachiel asked, slowing to a stop to allow civilian groundcars to cross the intersection ahead of them. As a fully embodied 100-ton titan of military might, they were of course well within their right to simply move through the intersection, civilians be damned. But that would not do - that was not conduct befitting a leader who cared.

Zerachiel remembered waving happily at a child walking by on the sidewalk with their mother, stopping to squat down as best they could and answer the young one's questions. They'd lowered the volume on their external speakers, so as not to frighten the child. Nadia was her name, and she was immensely curious - wanting to know how "the giant robot" was able to move like it did and talk to her and if it was alive.

Zerachiel's answers, as basic as they rendered them down, seemed to intrigue Nadia, and so Zerachiel spent over an hour speaking with Nadia and her mother, Vivienne. They were locals, they learned, descendants of some of the first colonists on the world, from the days of the Exoduses off of Terra. They'd lived in the village for generations, and at first, Vivienne seemed somewhat reluctant to speak with a warrior of Blake. Many of the smaller villages in outlying regions had people who felt much the same, particularly those generations that remembered the Words' arrival to their world during the Jihad, and the campaign waged by the Wolf's Dragoons to push the Word away. But the later generations, who had grown up under the much cowed, shamed, and benevolent second Word migration, seemed more accepting.

The locals spoke both Star League English and the curious mixture of French and German that had evolved after the initial colonists had arrived from Terra so many centuries ago, as had their cuisines and drink preferences. The Word force had stopped overnight just outside the town, and had been treated to a feast by the populace. Zerachiel had been glad to experience it, and to do without the pomp and circumstance of an official state visit.

None of the soldiers with Zerachiel complained about waiting around, of course. They got excellent, were used to these indulgences on Zerachiel's behalf, and in any case they had been busying themselves with uprooting the regional compliance militia.

Clearly Hershel has been laying the groundwork for this for years, thought Zerachiel. Zerachiel was certain that, had the SLDF not invaded, that they would instead be facing some manner of "internal crisis" manufactured by ROM - Hershel and his predecessors in ROM had never been happy with the more moderate elements of Heliosan society. There had not yet been a repeat of the incident at Fleuve-d'Abondance, where the local militia had "mistakenly" taken up arms against the Word forces, but Zerachiel was certain that it would happen again.

"Yes, Precentor-General," answered Greta. "They report that the SLDF has yet to move on them, and thus our forces are concentrating there, as well as at the Coen Regional DropPort and what apparently remains of Toldare ASB."

"Those will be their next targets. The Spirit is a capable strategic leader, they will not leave auch targets unprosecuted. I fear we'll be too late to stop them."

"Then we'll avenge them," Greta replied. "And make the Star League pay for what they've done."

"Perhaps," said Zerachiel, their mind wandering to the dish-shaped weapon mounted to their shoulder. That which they hoped they would never need to use. Just as they hoped they would never need to authorise the use of the munitions loaded on the specialized UrbanMech that followed behind them in the convoy. They hoped the SLDF would be reasonable. Would be willing to talk. Willing to leave Helios alone.

But that did not seem likely, and so here they were, marching into battle as any good leader should. That their lovers were by their side gave them confidence, but also terrified them. Both Greta and Rusty were sworn to lay down their lives to defend them, and if that happened, Zerachiel knew they would never be the same again. So they spent hours and hours as they walked, going over the reports they were recieving for the Coen region, wanting to learn everything they could about their enemy, to give themself and their troops whatever advantages they could.

It seemed they were facing members of half a dozen Clans, two of which Zerachiel had never heard of, and another that was supposed to be dead. Reports mentioned the Black Watch, that ancient and storied regiment that once defended the Star League. There were mercenaries of all sorts, and of course, Task Force Hawk - the unit that had done such incredible feats of military skill under the SLDF's leader, the "witch" known as Spirit.

It was shaping up to be an interesting fight.

[mrsreginagold]

Fic: Make A Wish

Fandom: Nikita

Pairing: Ari Tasarov x Nikita Mears (Nikari)

Rating: R

Spoilers: Season two canon-divergent AU, where the couple has been together for a while. 

Summary: When initial plans for Ari’s birthday get derailed, Nikita improvises.

Author’s note: The fact that Ari was given the same birth date as the actor who plays him was a small detail that I simply adore, so I had to write something in honor of that. What resulted is a smidge spicy, but ultimately sweet 💕

Make A Wish

                   Sunshine filtered in through sheer curtains, causing a pale-yellow glow to wash over the couple that was dozing together amongst the tangle of blankets. 

                  Nikita Mears was the first to rouse since her internal clock was still operating within her usual time-zone. The beautiful rogue agent fluttered open her eyes, noticed how early it happened to be, and then grumbled quietly as she twisted around in order to drape as much of herself as possible over Ari Tasarov’s still slumbering form. 

                  Her love and fellow operative gradually shifted to accommodate the change in position and then began to run one hand languidly through her hopelessly tousled, dark brown hair. 

                  With a happy sigh, she nuzzled at his neck, her lips grazing the hollow of his throat. “Morning birthday boy. Remind me again why you’re forced to go into the office?”

                  There was a low, amused chuckle and she felt his mouth press lightly to her temple. “Because everything falls apart when they begin a project without me, and I have no control over scheduling. I’ll try to cut out early.”

                  “You’d better,” she mumbled, stretching lazily and finally willing herself to wake – if only to bask in the tender intimacy that they shared before having to part for the day. 

                  It was always worth it considering the alluring image that Ari made when she saw him first thing. 

                  His handsome, angular features were relaxed after a well-deserved rest and his dark hair was adorably mussed. While there was a slight grogginess to his striking blue gaze, the clear affection directed her way was unmistakable, and it caused her heart to flutter.

                  Impulsively, she ran her fingers along his bare chest, deliberately stroking through the downy hair that dusted the expanse and then dipping her head to plant a kiss right over his heart. 

                  His breath hitched as her intentions became apparent, her lips tracing slowly along his ribcage and then coasting further down. “Nikita…”

                  She surged up to capture his mouth with her own, silencing any protest as she reached between them. “Think of it as the first of many presents you’re getting today.”

                  He wasn’t about to argue with her. 

                  In spite of the multiple distractions Nikita provided that morning, Ari was still able to leave for work with plenty of time to spare, which left the lovely former assassin to her own devices for a while. 

                  She took advantage of the solitude to get in a lengthy shower, and then chose her outfit carefully as it was part of his next surprise. 

                  She found things to occupy herself and then called in a few favors to ensure that all would go smoothly. While it wasn’t what she initially had intended for this trip, it never bothered her to improvise. After all: what truly mattered was doing something special for him. 

                  The trickiest part was sneaking into Ari’s office. Gogol’s security wasn’t quite as advanced as Division’s, but her boyfriend had a knack for surveillance, so Nikita had to be very careful. 

                  Luckily – stealth was one of her fortes, and with a bit of expert timing, she made her way there with no incident. 

                  She knew that his final meeting of the day would run over, so it gave her those few extra minutes she required for a quick set up. 

                  She dusted off her hands when she had lit the last few candles, grinning at her handiwork, and then went over to his desk so she could perch on the edge, crossing one long leg over the other and fluffing out her hair so it fell in perfect waves around her bare shoulders. 

                  The dress she had picked was made of blue silk, in a shade as close to the color of her lover’s eyes that she could find. The fabric whispered against her skin when she moved, the sweetheart neckline accentuating her cleavage just enough to offer a glimpse. The outfit was held up by tiny, beaded straps, and she completed the look with the pearl necklace he had gifted her for the holidays. 

                  Not long after Nikita had settled, the door to the office opened and Ari stepped inside, looking utterly exhausted due to whatever workload he had been put through. 

                  In fact: it took him an extra second to realize that she was there. 

                  When his gaze fell upon her, it widened significantly. “Nikita…what…”

                  “Surprise!” she announced, her tone lyrical, unable to hold back a grin at the dumbfounded look on his attractive features. 

                  His eyes roamed over the sight of her first, and then glanced around to take in their surroundings. 

                  She had not been able to transform the setting entirely, but now there was a large picnic blanket spread over the carpet by the couch. Several plush blankets and pillows decorated the space, which was romantically lit by the multiple candles she had brought in. As an additional touch, she scattered rose petals to accentuate the little nook she had created. The centerpiece of it all, of course, was a basket containing all sorts of delicious treats. 

                  “Do you like it?” she asked after a beat of silence, chewing at her lower lip anxiously. 

                  His answer was two-fold. First, there was a tell-tale click of the lock turning, which signaled their complete privacy. Then, without uttering a word, he strode over to her location and swept her into a passionate kiss that made it clear just how much he approved. 

                  Nikita sighed, relief flooding through her as she instinctively curled into the embrace. Whenever Ari kissed her, she would melt thanks to a combination of his skill and the feelings he always managed to convey. 

                  Right now, it was obvious that the central emotion at play was delight – the love of her life bestowing teasing nips at her mouth until he parted for air, a loving expression on his face. “It’s perfect. I love you so much.”

                  Her pulse swelled. “I love you too. Now…” she pulled out the cupcake she had been hiding and quickly lit the candle on top before presenting it to him. “Make a wish, and let’s see if I can grant it.”

                  He smiled warmly, dimples flashing, and then blew out the flame. 

                  “Not that I’m remotely minding this extravagance, but I would like to pose a question.” Ari took a long sip of champagne after polishing off a piece of chicken, his cobalt irises flashing inquiringly as he peered at her over the rim of the glass. 

                  “What is it?” Nikita placed the little that remained of her fruit salad to the side.

                  “Why not set this up back at my apartment?”

                  She was glad that she had taken only a tiny sip of water to cleanse her palette, as she likely would have choked otherwise. The true reason had been an offhand comment he’d made some time ago, but ever since he had mentioned the scenario it had played repeatedly, over and over, in her mind. 

                  She attempted to brush away the query and toyed with the edge of the picnic blanket with a shrug. “I thought you’d like it more if I came to you, that’s all.”

                  Elegant fingers coiled beneath her chin, tipping it back so their eyes would meet. 

                  “Tell me the real reason, Nikita.”

                  It did not help matters that he murmured her name with such reverence, prompting familiar liquid warmth to gather at her core. The effect that he had over her with due to such a simple action was ridiculous. 

                  She gulped, raking her gaze deliberately over the handsome man in front of her. Ari was propped up on one elbow, his jacket and tie having long-since been cast aside. His dress shirt was undone liberally at the collar so that a perfect triangle of skin was exposed, offering a tantalizing peek of chest hair, and his sleeves were rolled up — baring toned forearms. She had messed with his hair during several of their kisses, so loose strands fell rakishly across his forehead. 

                  Waves of longing crashed over Nikita, and she abruptly stood, moving over to his desk in order to put a bit of space between them. 

                  “I’ve upset you,” he observed, concern evident in the resonant timbre of his voice. 

                  “No, it’s just…the true reason is a little bit selfish, that’s all. It’s your special day, I don’t want to ruin it.”

                  Strong hands came to rest upon her shoulders, his breath feathering over her neck as he leaned forward and touched his lips right below the clasp of her necklace. “The only way you could have ruined this day for me is by not being here.”

                  A quiet moan escaped at the sensation of his mouth against her flushed skin, and she twisted around to steal a proper kiss.

                  He lifted her effortlessly so she could sit on the edge of the sleek, wooden surface, settling between her legs as the embrace deepened. 

                  A searing heat began to build, her hands fisting in the crisp fabric covering his chest to drag him in closer. 

                  Ari slipped one of Nikita’s dress straps down her arm, his mouth straying to gain purchase on her throat as he slowly eased her out of the silk. 

                  She heard a rustle, and then felt the rush of cool air against her naked flesh once the garment had been completely removed. 

                  “You mentioned, once, that you wouldn’t be opposed to making love in here,” she confessed, tugging his shirt tails out from his slacks and then popping the buttons open. 

                  “I was drunk when I said that.” He muttered, though he also made no move to stop her as she freed him from the confines of his clothing, piece by piece. 

                  She paused when he was fully nude, her gaze roaming appraisingly over sculpted planes of lean muscle. “Still. It could be fun. Something we haven’t done before.”

                  “Is that a challenge I sense?” he smirked.

                  “Maybe,” she lifted her hips so he could slide off her underwear, leaving no further barriers.

                  There was a beat as they observed one another, and then they lunged in unison, lips crashing in an ardent kiss while he reclined her back on the smooth surface. 

                  She dragged him with her, losing herself immediately to the velvet touch of his skin against hers, ensuring that every inch of them was touching while they embraced with growing fervor.

                  She was not quite prepared for the intensity that soon erupted, trapped between his warm, exquisitely toned form and his workspace. Clearly – he had given this particular fantasy some thought. 

                  His teeth scraped over the junction between her throat and shoulder while his hands mapped out paths along her increasingly sensitized skin. He followed the trail with his mouth not long after, bestowing particular attention to her breasts and navel before skimming down lower, and lower, until she was at his mercy. 

                  She cried out sharply, her vision swimming while he worshipped her thoroughly, weaving her fingers into his hair to keep him in place. 

                  Her breath hitched, pulse thrumming as he took his time to devour her in every sense. It was arguably one of the most erotic moments of her life, the thrill of engaging in something so forbidden rushing along her spine, light bursting against her closed eyelids when he eventually brought her to completion. 

                  Feathery kisses were placed all over her skin as he made his way back up, hovering over her before twining their fingers together, nudging her nose with his as he aligned them properly and asked silently for permission. 

                  She granted it with a nod, coiling her legs around his waist after he joined them together and they started to move in time. 

                  Their lovemaking lasted for several rounds before they decided to change their location. 

Nikita – sated and very much exhausted – luxuriated in how Ari carried her gallantly back over to the nest of blankets, her body still trembling slightly from the wake of his passion. 

                  She nuzzled at his clavicle and circled her arms securely around his neck. “If you give me just a little bit of time to recover, I can repay you for all that tenfold.”

                  He laughed softly. “My love, you were incredibly generous this morning. It was my turn.”

                  “I did say that was the start of many gifts, didn’t I? Which reminds me, look in the basket.”

                  He set her down gently on the plush surface and rummaged around until he discovered a small, wrapped package. “What did you do?”

                  “Open it and find out,” she beamed at him, stretching, cat-like, while she watched him tear into the paper after he settled at her side. 

                  He removed a box, opened the lid, and then carefully pulled out a leather cord bracelet that had an engraved sterling silver plate attached to the middle. “All my love, N.” He read, looking at her with gratitude swimming in his eyes. 

                  “I figured something simple was best…” she wrapped it around his wrist. “A way to keep a reminder of me with you wherever you are.”

                  “It’s amazing, Nikita, just like you,” he kissed her tenderly, twining his fingers into her hair as he bore her back onto the blankets, intent on celebrating and showing how grateful he was. 

                  She was all too happy to let him. 

The End

[pathfinderunlocked]

Trinexx - CR17 Dragon

Who will survive, the monster or the hero? Arise, three-headed Trinexx! Now... consume the hero!

Artwork by EricMHE on DeviantArt.

This creature is from The Legend of Zelda. You can tell because its name is so idiotic.

Trinexx is the boss of a volcanic dungeon called Turtle Rock in The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past. Although it's an incredibly powerful monster (the second strongest creature in that game), all it can really do is walk around and use breath weapons. It has super high AOE damage output, but unlike Link, a party of high level Pathfinder characters can fly or manipulate the battlefield.

I recommend using this creature indoors, probably in a cave of some kind, to avoid the obvious high level solution of simply flying 200 feet up and shooting it until it's dead. But if your players are absolutely terrified of facing this thing head-on and instead just cast Widened Hungry Pit on it, well, that's Pathfinder.

It would make sense to have the linnorm heads rear back when using a breath weapon to get a wider area, and then lunge forward as a charge action when attacking. It doesn't provoke an AoO from doing this, and it helps make up for its somewhat low attack bonus.

A trinexx is essentially an oversized, unusually intelligent dragon turtle that's been magically fused with the heads of a tor linnorm and an ice linnorm. Some wizard probably thought that was a good idea. A typical speciment is 50 feet long, 30 feet wide, and weighs 80 tons. The top of its shell reaches 30 feet high, but the linnorm heads can reach an additional 15 feet above that.

The Legend of Zelda: An RPG to the Past has a bunch of additional Zelda content for Pathfinder 1e. I've also posted several other Zelda creatures in the past; just search for "zelda" on my blog using Tumblr's search tool.

Trinexx - CR 17

This long-tailed aquatic beast resembles a massive snapping turtle with draconic features. Emerging from two holes in its shell are long necks with dragon heads, one red and one blue.

XP 102,400 N Gargantuan dragon (aquatic) Init +2 Senses low-light vision, darkvision 60 ft., scent, true seeing; Perception +24

DEFENSE

AC 36, touch 8, flat-footed 36 (-2 Dex, +32 natural, –4 size) hp 243 (18d12+126) Fort +19, Ref +9, Will +16 Defensive Abilities shell resistance DR 15/— Resist acid 10, electricity 10, sonic 10, force 10 Immune cold, fire, sleep, paralysis SR 28

OFFENSE

Speed 20 ft., swim 30 ft. Melee bite +22 (4d6+11), 2 claws +21 (2d6+11) Space 20 ft., Reach 10 ft. (15 ft. with bite) Special Attacks breath weapon, capsize, lunging head

STATISTICS

Str 32, Dex 6, Con 25, Int 16, Wis 20, Cha 26 Base Atk +18; CMB +33; CMD 41 (45 vs. trip) Feats Awesome Blow, Blind-Fight, Cleave, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Overrun, Improved Initiative, Power Attack, Weapon Focus (bite) Skills Appraise +26, Climb +23, Knowledge (arcana, dungeoneering) +24, Intimidate +29, Perception +26, Sense Motive +17, Spellcraft +24, Stealth -14 (-6 in water), Swim +40, Use Magic Device +29; Racial Modifiers +8 Stealth in water Languages Aquan, Common, Draconic, Ignan SQ amphibious, exploding shell, linnorm heads

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Breath Weapon (Su) Cloud of steam 20 feet high, 25 feet wide, and 50 feet long, once every 1d4 rounds, damage 12d6 fire, Reflex DC 26 half; effective both on the surface and underwater. The save DC is Constitution-based.

A trinexx can only use its breath weapon if both of its linnorm heads have been killed.

Capsize (Ex) A trinexx can attempt to capsize a boat or ship by ramming it as a charge attack and making a CMB check. The DC of this check is 25, or the result of the boat captain's Profession (sailor) check, whichever is higher. For each size category larger than the trinexx's size, it takes a cumulative –10 penalty on this CMB check.

Exploding Shell (Ex) At the start of its next turn after both of its linnorm heads are killed, a trinexx's shell explodes, dazing the trinexx for 1 round but dealing 10d6 bludgeoning and piercing damage in a 200 ft. radius burst. A DC 26 Reflex save halves the damage. Flying creatures damaged by this effect must also succeed on a Fly check with a DC equal to 5 + the damage dealt, or fall to the ground as the shell particles disrupt their flight. The save DC is Constitution-based.

After a trinexx's shell has exploded, its natural armor bonus is reduced by 16, and it loses its DR and energy resists. However, its base land speed increases to 60 ft., it gains a +16 bonus to Dexterity, it gains access to its breath weapon, and it gains Spring Attack and Charge Through as bonus feats.

If a trinexx's shell explodes, only a spell such as regenerate that grows back severed body parts can restore it.

Linnorm Heads (Ex) A trinexx has two linnorm heads attached to its body, which act as separate creatures on their own initiative, despite being parts of its body.  The linnorm heads must remain adjacent to the trinexx, and move with the trinexx if it moves.  They cannot be forcibly moved away from the trinexx.

If a trinexx's linnorm heads are killed, only a spell such as regenerate that grows back severed body parts can restore them.

Lunging Head (Ex) Once every 1d4 rounds, as a standard action, a trinexx can greatly extend its neck to make a single bite attack with a reach of 60 feet instead of the normal reach of 15 feet. This counts as an attack action, and can be used with the Cleave feat.

Shell Resistance (Su) Once per day, when a trinexx fails a spell resistance roll, it can choose to succeed instead. After it does so, it loses its SR and takes a -4 penalty to AC until it rests and regains its use of this ability.

Trinexx's Red Linnorm Head

N Large dragon (fire) Init +6 Senses uses trinexx's senses

DEFENSE

AC 29, touch 17, flat-footed 21 (+8 Dex, +12 natural, –1 size) hp 90 (12d12+12) Fort +9, Ref +14, Will +13 Immune curse effects, fire, sleep, paralysis Weaknesses stunned by cold, vulnerability to cold

OFFENSE

Speed 20 ft., swim 30 ft. Melee bite +22 (1d8+16) Space 10 ft., Reach 15 ft. Special Attacks breath weapon, death curse

STATISTICS

Str 32, Dex 22, Con 12, Int —, Wis —, Cha — Base Atk +12; CMB +24; CMD 36 (cannot be tripped) SQ amphibious, trinexx's heads

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Breath Weapon (Su) As a standard action, a trinexx's red linnorm head can breathe fire in a 90 ft. cone, dealing 10d6 fire damage and setting creatures and objects in the area on fire (dealing 1d6 fire damage per round until the target extinguishes itself). A DC 21 Reflex save halves the damage and negates being set on fire. The save DC is Constitution-based and includes a +4 racial bonus. After using this breath weapon, a trinexx's red linnorm head cannot use it again on the following round.

A trinexx's red linnorm head and blue linnorm head cannot use their breath weapons on the same round as each other.

Careful Movement (Ex) When a trinexx's red linnorm head moves on its turn, it does not provoke attacks of opportunity. It still provokes attacks of opportunity when it is moved automatically by the trinexx's movement.

Death Curse (Su) When a creature slays a trinexx's red linnorm head, the slayer is affected by the curse of the red linnorm head. Curse of the Red Linnorm Head: save Will DC 24; effect creature's AC, CMD, and saving throws are reduced by 4 against the trinexx and its blue linnorm head. This effect is permanent, but ends if the trinexx dies. The save DC is based on the trinexx's Charisma.

Linked Mind (Ex) A trinexx's red linnorm head has no Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma score of its own.  It uses the trinexx's mental ability scores to determine these statistics. It cannot use any mental skill, even Perception; the trinexx makes these checks instead and controls the red linnorm head directly.

Stunned By Cold (Ex) Any time a trinexx's red linnorm head takes at least 20 points of cold damage in a single hit, it must succeed on a Fortitude save or be stunned for 1 round. The DC of this save is equal to half the cold damage dealt.

Trinexx's Heads (Ex) A trinexx has two linnorm heads attached to its body, which act as separate creatures on their own initiative, despite being parts of its body.  The linnorm heads must remain adjacent to the trinexx, and move with the trinexx if it moves.  They cannot be forcibly moved away from the trinexx.

If a trinexx's linnorm heads are killed, only a spell such as regenerate that grows back severed body parts can restore them.

Uses Trinexx's Senses (Ex) A trinexx's red linnorm head has no senses of its own; the trinexx uses its senses and controls the red linnorm head directly.

Trinexx's Blue Linnorm Head

N Large dragon (cold) Init +6 Senses uses trinexx's senses

DEFENSE

AC 29, touch 17, flat-footed 21 (+8 Dex, +12 natural, –1 size) hp 90 (12d12+12) Fort +9, Ref +14, Will +13 Immune cold, curse effects, sleep, paralysis Weaknesses stunned by fire, vulnerability to fire

OFFENSE

Speed 20 ft., swim 30 ft. Melee bite +22 (1d8+16) Space 10 ft., Reach 15 ft. Special Attacks breath weapon, death curse

STATISTICS

Str 32, Dex 27, Con 12, Int —, Wis —, Cha — Base Atk +12; CMB +24; CMD 36 (cannot be tripped) SQ amphibious, trinexx's heads

SPECIAL ABILITIES

Breath Weapon (Su) As a standard action, a trinexx's blue linnorm head can breathe ice in a 90 ft. cone, dealing 10d6 cold damage, extinguishing fires in the area, and coating the ground with slippery ice which causes creatures in the area to fall prone. A DC 21 Reflex save halves the damage and negates falling prone. The area is coated with ice for 1 minute; this functions as the ice slick spell. The save DC is Constitution-based and includes a +4 racial bonus. After using this breath weapon, a trinexx's blue linnorm head cannot use it again on the following round.

A trinexx's red linnorm head and blue linnorm head cannot use their breath weapons on the same round as each other.

Careful Movement (Ex) When a trinexx's blue linnorm head moves on its turn, it does not provoke attacks of opportunity. It still provokes attacks of opportunity when it is moved automatically by the trinexx's movement.

Death Curse (Su) When a creature slays a trinexx's blue linnorm head, the slayer is affected by the curse of the blue linnorm head. Curse of the Blue Linnorm Head: save Will DC 24; effect creature's AC, CMD, and saving throws are reduced by 4 against the trinexx and its red linnorm head. This effect is permanent, but ends if the trinexx dies. The save DC is based on the trinexx's Charisma.

Linked Mind (Ex) A trinexx's blue linnorm head has no Intelligence, Wisdom, or Charisma score of its own.  It uses the trinexx's mental ability scores to determine these statistics. It cannot use any mental skill, even Perception; the trinexx makes these checks instead and controls the blue linnorm head directly.

Stunned By Fire (Ex) Any time a trinexx's blue linnorm head takes at least 20 points of fire damage in a single hit, it must succeed on a Fortitude save or be stunned for 1 round. The DC of this save is equal to half the fire damage dealt.

Trinexx's Heads (Ex) A trinexx has two linnorm heads attached to its body, which act as separate creatures on their own initiative, despite being parts of its body.  The linnorm heads must remain adjacent to the trinexx, and move with the trinexx if it moves.  They cannot be forcibly moved away from the trinexx.

If a trinexx's linnorm heads are killed, only a spell such as regenerate that grows back severed body parts can restore them.

Uses Trinexx's Senses (Ex) A trinexx's blue linnorm head has no senses of its own; the trinexx uses its senses and controls the blue linnorm head directly.

[lesbx]

you talking about fo4 reminded me how i really really wish we had gotten a gen 1 railroad synth companion in 4 (nick doesn't count) glory mentions wanting to free those g1/g2 synths too, so i feel like its possible for them to be like... "people" in the same way as other robots.

they could be a foil to deacon in a way; both are railroad agents wanting to free synths, but their methods would vary. deacon is all about stealth and avoiding conflict, while the synth would be combat focused, and more vengeful towards the institute. also you could make a terminator reference really easily.

also the fight with kellogg should have been optional through dialogue and he should have been a possible companion.

think about it, when you confront him he realizes that the institute set him up to be killed by you, a loose end tied up, so of course he'd want revenge. he'd be probably the most violent companion in the game, even more than dance or strong. he'd shake things up and make it difficult to work with the institute (he'd hate you helping them), or the railroad (was on their hitlist for obvious reasons). he'd make shit interesting. hell, if you recruit him you could skip the entire quest where you rummage through his mind to try and locate the institute, cuz he'd just tell you about vergil.

I actually was talking with my girlfriend the other day about the concept of Kellogg as a companion bc i think it would’ve been excellent. he was just simply for hire after all and while he killed your spouse and kidnapped your baby, that would’ve been something that made the dynamic with him even more interesting. mutual respect between two incredibly capable individuals, despite a completely irreconcilable event linking the two of you.

i was also thinking about how Kellogg’s memories very directly run parallel to the player’s experiences. Kellogg presumably grew up in California, during a time of major political upheaval as the NCR was being founded. Not the same thing obviously, but a pretty similar inversion of the player experiencing their normal world becoming a wasteland, whereas he experienced the wasteland becoming a “normal” world. As Kellogg progresses through his life, he grows and in every new memory, he’s got more armor and better weapons, modding them over time, reflecting the player character as they level up. The most direct parallel is Kellogg’s memory in that hallway, there to get revenge for his family as he’s being taunted over the intercom on his approach. When Kellogg talks to you in Fort Hagen and tells you that you can turn around and leave and that “not many get that chance” he isn’t threatening you. He’s just been through it before and understands where you’re coming from. it all makes for a really neat narrative if he were to become an ally.

My idea for a Kellogg companion was actually very different though. In my idea you still kill Kellogg and do the events of Dangerous Minds, which ends with Nick taking Kellogg’s cybernetics into his brain. This would lead to a potential alternate route for Nick’s character, that begins with successive dialogues (triggered by certain quests and locations) from Kellogg, speaking through Nick, giving information and being helpful, eventually leading to a choice where the player has the option of allowing Kellogg to fully take over Nick’s body, a choice that would grant you a highly skilled and lethal companion, at the cost of effectively killing Nick. Alternatively, you could find a medium between both (achieving neither of their full strengths, but also not killing anyone) or working to fully remove Kellogg from Nick and just continuing as normal for him

[soylent-crocodile]

Negator (Monster)

(Phyrexian Negator by John Zeleznik)

CR16 NE Medium Aberration (Phyrexian)

(The negator is another iconic creature, although one whose card is simply not up to snuff nowadays- the balance of power has tipped so that its astronomical drawback is not worth the creature you get. Still, the obliterator is clearly a riff on it- and got its own, incredibly aesthetically boring riff later- and even then it's simply too fabulous a design not to use. Can you say "xenomorph"?

Lorewise, these explicitly saw most usage in the leadup to full invasion- perhaps, in a hypothetical Phyrexia campaign, this could be the final boss of the second act, before the REAL invasion force finally arrives.)

Negators are perfected assassins of Phyrexia, designed to eliminate key targets with compleat efficiency. They are singleminded in this pursuit- one infamous document stated simply "It exists to cease." Indeed, a negator's heart is terribly stilled- they are not known to experience any emotion but the satisfaction of a job well done and the desire to achieve so.

Negators, being stealth operatives and assassins, are rarely used once a full-scale invasion begins, although they are often deployed just in the leadup to it. Each negator is given all Phyrexia knows of its target, and is simply placed as close as Phyrexia can get it without garnering attention and sent to kill. Negators are surprisingly skilled at stealth and disguise, able to walk as a hunched figure through whatever streets it may need to to reach its target, and are surprisingly eloquent and skilled actors when they need to lie. Once it makes its kill, however, a negator rarely makes time for stealth. Such negators will begin a return to Phyrexia (such that they might possibly be reset, reprogrammed, and reused), but generally lack the precautions of one who has yet to make a kill. These assassinations are its purpose; it seems some higher part of it shuts off once it is done.

This wicked creature stands humanoid, with razor sharp claws and a smooth nubby head lined with tiny triangular teeth. Its body is dotted with glasslike hemispheres and wires arcing between body parts.

Misc- CR16 NE Medium Aberration (Phyrexian) HD24 Init:+11 Senses: Blindsight 120ft Perception: +26, Detect Magic, Detect Good Stats- Str:27(+8) Dex:33(+11) Con:20(+5) Int:30(+10) Wis:8(-1) Cha:24(+6) BAB:+18/+13/+8/+3 Space:5ft Reach:5ft Defense- HP:228(24d8+120) AC:30(+11 Dex, +4 Armor, +5 Natural) Fort:+14 Ref:+19 Will:+15 (+4 Racial bonus vs Emotion) CMD:47 Resist: Cold 20, Fire 20, Electricity 20 Immunity: Acid, Fear, Curse, Polymorph, Petrification, Death effects, Disease, Poison Weakness: Special Defenses: Evasion, Negative Energy Affinity, DR10/Adamantine, SR27, Uncanny Dodge, Mycosynth Flesh Offense- Bite +24(1d6+8), 2 Claw +25(2d6+8/19-20x2) or Negation +29(90ft ranged, 10d8 plus Negation) CMB:+26 Speed:40ft Special Attacks: Coronous Ambush, Sneak Attack +5d6 Feats- Iron Will, Multiattack, Power Attack (-5/+10), Dodge, Mobility, Spring Attack, Wind Stance, Vital Strike, Improved Vital Strike, Improved Iron Will, Quicken Spell-Like Ability (Bestow Curse), Weapon Focus (Claw) Skills- Acrobatics +38, Bluff +31, Climb +29, Disable Device +35, Disguise +31, Escape Artist +38, Knowledge (Arcana, Planes, Religion) +34, Knowledge (Dungeoneering)* +37, Linguistics +15, Perception +26, Sense Motive +23, Spellcraft +17, Stealth +38, Survival +26, Swim +29, Use Magic Device +31 Spell-like Abilities-  Detect Magic, Detect Good, Mage Armor, Deathwatch /constant Bestow Curse (DC19), Fog Cloud, Silence (DC18) /at-will Quickened Bestow Curse (DC19) 3/day Special Qualities- Compression Ecology- Environment- Any Languages- Necril, Draconic, Elven, Aklo, Abyssal, Infernal Organization- Solitary Treasure- Incidental Special Abilities- Coronous Ambush (Ex)- A negator’s erratic, jerky movements and mastery of anatomy give it the opening to strike at its enemies weakest points. A negator may make a sneak attack against any creature vulnerable to precision damage as long as it has moved at least 10ft since the end of its last turn. Negation (Su)- As a standard action, a negator can fire a beam of oblivion energy. This is a 90ft ranged attack that deals 10d8 untyped damage. Additionally, a negator may immediately make a dispel check as with the spell Greater Dispel Magic at +18 against all magical effects the target is under.

[witchyleehibernates-fics]

Sacrifices of a Villain (Brother Why?)

Summary:

In the distance, further away, Tommy could hear… “Techie…” Tommy’s voice was a slurred whisper as he forced his eyes open. “Take me, don’t… take me instead.” Tommy’s eyes widened in sudden fear. “Hurt me instead.” was tacked on. “He’s just a kid, he’s sixteen. His friends are just seventeen.” Tommy’s breathing, which had slowed considerably, picked back up as he watched his brother be forced to his knees as the nine heroes surrounded him. “Techie…” Tommy tried to push himself up, as tears fell for an entirely different reason, and out of Purpled’s arms, though the other simply tightened his arms around him. Tommy was too weak to actually fight against Purpled, and slumped in his arms.

Content Warning's/Trigger Warnings: character has a panic attack, hero villain au, injury of teen vigilante's, villain turning themselves in for a vigilante

Let me know if you feel I missed something!

Characters: Purpled, Ranboo, Tubbo, TommyInnit, Technoblade

Chapters: 1/1

Words: 2,206

Status: Complete

Fanfic Links:

|| Ao3 || Fanfiction Net ||

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

Tommy was panicking just a little.

It was only a little bit, if you ignored the panic attack that he was currently trying to ignore. His mind was racing as he tried to gauge just how this plan had gone oh so horribly wrong. Maybe it was when he’d kicked a can, or it could be when he’d missed the oh so obvious hero trailing them. But it no longer mattered just how their little stealth mission had gone so wrong, just that they were now fighting a set of heroes in what was probably a life or death situation.

“Apollo! Duck!” Tommy ducked as Tubbo sent an explosive marble over his head. Tommy snickered when the hero that he had been fighting exclaimed in shock. Tommy quickly moved from that fight to the other side of the field before the hero had even recovered. He’d needed the save.

“Gambit to the side!” Tommy ducked past Tubbo who jumped to the side just in time to avoid both a knife aimed for his side and a light blast from Tommy aimed at the ice-related hero. Would it have been important to know which heroes they were fighting? Absolutely, however that was more Tubbo or Ranboo’s forte.

“Shadow, where are you?” Tubbo asked, into their comms. Tommy was still adjusting to hearing Tubbo both on the field and directly in his ear, though luckily his momentary distraction was only that, momentary. “We need evac now!” 

“Sorry, sorry, I got caught up in some- ow!” Ranboo hissed before their line cut out. Tubbo made a noise of concern as Tommy jumped and sent down a burst of light. Maybe he’d be able to blind the heroes long enough for him, Purpled, and Tubbo to escape. Maybe they’d just get lucky and Ranboo would be able to save them. Wait… where was Purpled?

“Shadow, update.” Tubbo tried again regardless, sending another marble to Tommy to throw at whoever he wanted; Tommy chose the hero with the speed power, who he was also working on blinding. Of course, Speed power meant that she had a very quick recovery time, which was annoying to deal with.

That and Tommy couldn’t keep healing himself from the punches that he was sure were meant to keep him down indefinitely.

“Plasma, where did you go?” Tommy asked, ducking under a particularly fast punch and jumping away as the marble exploded. Tommy ducked under a bolt of ice, and Tommy made a noise of irritation as he sent another burst of light towards them.

“Sorry, sorry, my hands were burning.” Purpled’s voice appeared. “Apollo, duck.” Tommy ducked again, just barely avoiding the plasma-like substance that passed over his head. He watched as the speedster was very suddenly stuck to a wall with a radioactive purple goo like substance. Tommy laughed at the look of offense and disgust on her face.

“Thanks.” Tommy uttered, taking the splitest second to breath before pushing himself back up and running towards where Purpled had reappeared on the battlefield. Though, he made a detour to meet up with Tubbo when the other yelped from pain.

“How many heroes are you guys fighting?” Ranboo’s voice was back, sounding much more exhausted than before they disappeared. That made Tommy far more concerned than he would care to admit. If Ranboo got too tired, they wouldn’t be able to get everyone away from the fighting.

“Uh…” Purpled hesitated on answering, which was fair. Even Tommy wasn’t entirely sure just how many heroes they were fighting. Everything was blurring just a tad, and he was sure his breathing wasn’t supposed to be this fast.

“A good nine, maybe eleven.” Tubbo responded. Tommy rolled his eyes as he jumped over the hero that could summon plants, another blast of light pulsing from his fingertips. He heard her scream suddenly, and he wondered if he just overloaded her sight. Was he even able to do that? Tommy didn’t know, nor did he entirely care.

“I’m on my way.”

“Gambit first, he’s bleeding heavily.” Tommy instructed, dodging around an explosion that Tubbo had set for the hero who could control water. Either he’d never read Percy Jackson, or he just wasn’t able to control blood, whatever the case, Tommy was thankful.

He lifted his middle finger regardless when that particular hero regained their bearings. He got a growl-like response that only made Tommy laugh, even if he now had to duck under a particularly sharp jab of water. It evaporated when Purpled launched a burst of plasma at it, and it took the smug look off the hero's face, well, the parts that they could see.

“Got him.” Ranboo sounded… Tommy worried about his friend. Ranboo wouldn’t even be able to come back to get Purpled, nevermind transporting Purpled back and then coming for Tommy. Tommy gasped when pain licked up his back. Of fucking course they had the fire hero here.

It now clicked which hero group they were fighting. The Elementals were a pain in the absolute ass, in Tommy’s opinion. They had the fire user, the water one, the speedster, the earth bender, the plant one, the wind one, the ice one, and… Tommy didn’t know the rest, actually.

“Oka- Fuck!” Tommy shouted when he was suddenly stuck against the wall, pain erupting from his side from where he was now pinned to the fucking wall by a sword. A sword! There were three exclaims of Apollo, three through the comms system they had and one echoing slightly from across the field.

Tommy could feel his powers wanting to heal the wound, however Tommy didn’t need that, didn’t want that. If he healed now, it could kill him, which is probably the only reason why his powers didn’t start healing him.

Tommy gasped when the hero came back to twist the sword. Tommy kicked out, smiling in satisfaction of the hero backing away quickly, buckling over in pain. Good, he was a fucking asshole. He groaned as suddenly Purpled was at his side, and Tommy… could nearly feel the worry and fear on his friend. It was coming and going in waves, or maybe that was his vision coming and going. Was something important hit? Was Tommy dying?

“He’s sixteen!” There was a shout across the battlefield. It sounded like the fighting stopped, but Tommy wasn’t sure.

“Come on, ‘pollo, hang in there.” Tommy groaned as the sword was removed from his side. He cried out as he tumbled forward. “I got you,” He was sure it was Purpled holding him and gently lowering him to the ground. His vision was blacking out.

In the distance, further away, Tommy could hear…

“Techie…” Tommy’s voice was a slurred whisper as he forced his eyes open.

“Take me, don’t… take me instead.” Tommy’s eyes widened in sudden fear. “Hurt me instead.” was tacked on. “He’s just a kid, he’s sixteen. His friends are just seventeen.” Tommy’s breathing, which had slowed considerably, picked back up as he watched his brother be forced to his knees as the nine heroes surrounded him.

“Techie…” Tommy tried to push himself up, as tears fell for an entirely different reason, and out of Purpled’s arms, though the other simply tightened his arms around him. Tommy was too weak to actually fight against Purpled, and slumped in his arms.

Tommy cried a little more when his brother, Technoblade, Protesilaus, whatever people knew him by, locked eyes with him. He cried a little more, one arm extended towards Techno as the other mouthed that ‘It’s okay, it’s okay Theseus’.

Tommy wasn’t awake much longer after that.

“He’s not going to be happy when he wakes up.” Tommy could hear talking going on around him. “Techno’s literally his whole world.” He was pretty sure that it was Purpled talking, but he wasn’t sure. He could hear someone mumble a response, but Tommy didn’t, couldn’t, catch what was said.

“What are we supposed to do? Go stage a rescue?” That was most definitely Tubbo, who sounded agitated. Tommy groaned as he tried to force his eyes open… He didn’t succeed, and the effort that Tommy gave only exhausted him. “Tommy?”

Tommy fell back into the void of unconsciousness.

Tommy could hear someone humming, and it sounded so much like his mother. Tommy whined slightly, and this time his eyes did manage to open. His mom was sitting next to him, and she was reading a book whilst she hummed to an otherwise empty room.

“Mum-” She looked up sharply, her face softening as she moved a little closer.

“You aren’t ready to be awake yet, Toms,” She murmured, reaching forward and running her hands through his hair. Tommy felt his eyes tear up as the urge to cry struck him.

“Techie…” It’s all my fault- Kristin shushed him slightly.

“Get some more sleep, Toms.” Tommy wanted to argue, wanted to shake off the drowsiness and go and find his brother. But Kristin, who everyone knew as Hecate, was not someone that you could fight or argue with.

Tommy’s eyes fell closed once more as the void called him back.

Tommy woke up with a headache. He was also actually awake, which was a little uncomfortable now that Tommy had been asleep for… a number of days to a week or two. He didn’t actually know how long he’d been asleep, because he’d woken up alone. That was fine, Tommy didn’t want to be convinced to go back to sleep anyways.

He was alone for maybe five minutes before Purpled crashed into the room with wide eyes. Tommy snorted in amusement as Purpled tumbled trying to get back up quickly. Purpled glared at him from the ground, finally getting himself under control. He pushed himself up and sat on the edge of the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Tommy was honestly expecting a ‘you weren't supposed to be awake yet’. But he liked that that’s not the route that Purpled had decided to work with.

“My-” Tommy cut himself off, his voice sounded rough and he swallowed uncomfortably. Purpled pointed somewhere beside Tommy, and Tommy glanced over to see a glass of water. Oh, good, they knew he wasn’t going back to sleep this time.

Tommy moved to push himself up, groaning in sudden pain which caused him to stop his attempt of getting up. Purpled was closer to his side suddenly, hands gently resting on Tommy’s shoulders as a noise of concern escaped the other.

“What happened, you okay?” Purpled’s voice had a small hint of panic and worry lacing it.

“Yeah, yeah, my side feels like it’s on fire.” Tommy responded. Purpled, once sure that Tommy had no intent of trying to get up a second time, let go of his shoulders and moved to check on Tommy’s side.

“You’re not fully healed yet.” Purpled sounded annoyed slightly, like Tommy was supposed to be healed already. Tommy would have tried to heal it if he had the energy, but he barely had the energy to move his arms. Purpled sided as he moved to sit directly next to Tommy. “Let me help for now.” It was not a request but a demand, and there was no way Tommy was going to argue with Purpled right now.

“Okay.” Tommy’s voice was quiet and partially strangled.

“What’s on your mind?” Purpled asked as he moved to help Tommy sit up. The goal was to not agitate his side too much, though it took a lot out of Tommy by the time he was sitting up. He could just about hear Purpled cursing himself for moving Tommy too much. “Here.” Purpled grabbed the cup, holding it up so that Tommy could drink from the straw before responding. Tommy sighed as Purpled put the cup back on the side stand. It took Tommy a hard moment to realize that he was in his room from his childhood home.

Ah, so the memory of his mom reading and humming at his side wasn’t just a dream. He swallowed hard, with the knowledge that Techno’s room was in the same hallway.

“Tech?” Tommy asked, his voice wavering. Purpled hesitated, a clear expression of contemplation on his face.

“We haven’t heard anything about him yet.” Purpled uttered. “The adults won’t let the three of us in on anything.” Tommy felt his face fall as a few tears slipped. He quickly rubbed them away as he tried to get an even breath in.

He needed to heal, and he needed to get the energy to do that. Tommy swallowed as he nodded.

“Okay.” He could practically feel the surprise on Purpled, though the other jumped on the obvious drop in conversation topic.

“Tubbo and Ranboo are on their way over,” Purpled offered. “Ranboo overworked himself pretty hard during-” Purpled very quickly changed his explanation. But Tommy still felt his heart drop momentarily. “And Tubbo’s leg is still a little tender, too. Stitches and all that.” Purpled sighed.

“Wish I took the moment to heal Tubbo during… everything.” Tommy groaned, letting his head fall back.

“He doesn’t blame you.” Purpled uttered.

“I know Tubbo-”

“No.” Purpled interrupted him. Tommy refused to look at him, instead staring at his lap with a heavy heart.