#they rule the world now as one giant flock | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pisoprano · 11 months ago

Text

Happy birthday, @blur0se! I wrote some more Loveybug AU for you!

Marinette was feeling giddy. Becoming Loveybug was just—GAHH!!! She didn’t have words for it. She wanted to dance and squeal and start throwing confetti.

She’d told Chat Noir she loved him!

After all her failures with trying to tell Adrien her feelings, she’d actually succeeded in revealing the three suns in her heart (i.e., those three little words, “I love you”) to someone! And sure, Chat had run away before responding, but clearly that had to be because he was about to transform back, right? Or maybe it was just that he was too surprised by the other news she’d shared to say anything?

(He looked so sad, though, when he learned that Ladybug wasn’t coming ba—DON’T THINK ABOUT ANY OF THAT! THIS IS HAPPY FUN TIME TO CELEBRATE!)

She started planning what she was going to do when she saw Chat Noir again. Maybe they could go on a romantic boat ride together? She could wear a fancy dress and have a violin serenading them as they watched the stars together! And she had to bring him a rose—no, a dozen! A hundred! How expensive were roses again? She'd figure that out later, she just knew that any roses had to be red because her kitty needed to know that this was no platonic friendship that she was giving him, it was a romance. One that would last forever and ever!

The akuma alert popped up on her phone. A part of Marinette was annoyed—she hadn’t finished her dating plan yet!—but on the other hand, it meant seeing that beautiful, silly, fun, caring, adorable, wonderful boy in cat ears that much sooner. She’d have to make up for the lack of a plan with extra hugs (and kisses if she could snag them!)

“Tikki, spots on!”

Loveybug yo-yo'd herself into the sky and looked for her partner (the akuma could wait). Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to have shown up yet. Probably something in his personal life holding him up. She wished she knew more about that personal life. She wished she was a part of that personal life. Maybe he’d open up more about himself to Loveybug—he certainly wouldn’t tell Ladybug since she'd told him ‘No talking about identity stuff!’ too many times to count (she was a fool to have made that rule—sure the world had ended a couple times, but on the other hand, consider: kissy kissy meow meow).

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t see all the birds coming. Loveybug was thrown into the air by Mr. Pigeon’s latest flock of evil pigeons. Maybe I can manipulate the swarm of birds into making a message for Chat? she mused to herself. A giant heart shouldn’t be too difficult, right?

As she tried to think through her plans of sky artistry, she suddenly felt a pair of sturdy arms wrap around her.

He’s here!

Loveybug closed her eyes in a dramatic swoon and nuzzled up to him, “Hey, Hot Stuff, where have you been all my life?” She moved her hand up to his neck to play with his bell, but it wasn’t there. All she found was a metallic chain.

She opened her eyes to look at her catboy. Except he wasn’t her catboy. Sure he was a catboy—black cat ears, a tail, and baton with a paw print that he was using to keep the both of them aloft in the sky as they fled the pigeon horde. But his hair was green and his posture was perfect and he looked like a soldier waiting for orders. Nothing like the fun-loving goofball that had been Ladybug’s partner since the very beginning.

(Except that time when he’d given up the ring. Except that time when he’d been replaced.)

“Catwalker?” she whispered.

“Good day, Loveybug, I hope you are alright?”

“Of course I’m alright!” she yelped. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

She couldn’t let herself fall apart over losing Chat, not again. She needed to be Loveybug right now, she would die of mortification if Catwalker of all people found out that she was Ladybug in disguise. Mr. Perfect could never find out about how Ladybug had screwed things up with Chat Noir so badly she’d dreamed up an alternate version of herself to fix it.

Catwalker frowned. “Are you sure you’re okay? We’ve got an akuma to deal with, but if you’re not feeling well—”

“Yep! Purr-fectly fine, that’s me! Paris’ number one heroine of love and justice! Loveybug! Not Ladybug! She’s not here! Oh look, the Pigeon Man! Let’s go fight him! With the power of love!”

She gave Catwalker a smooch on the cheek and flung herself away towards danger.

(But why was Catwalker here? He can’t be a permanent replacement. Chat Noir had to come back. If Chat hated Loveybug so much that he gave up the ring again just to get away from her, she’d—DON’T THINK ABOUT THAT! EVERYTHING IS FINE! JUST KEEP DOING WHAT YOU’RE DOING! YOU LOVE CATWALKER TOO, RIGHT? HE’S SUPER PRETTY AND NICE. YOU CAN LOVE HIM UNTIL CHAT NOIR COMES BACK. HE HAS TO COME BACK.)

#loveybug au #loveybug #catwalker #marinette dupain cheng #ml fanfic #my writing #miraculous ladybug

50 notes · View notes

themountainscall · 11 months ago

Text

There you lay, pelted by hundreds of rain droplets as you weakly try to compose yourself. Everything seemed to go numb. The only thing you felt was nature’s brutality striking your pelt relentlessly as you lay helpless.

The forest was so close, yet so far. You didn’t know if you’d ever make it there. The salvation you’d heard of… the stories detailing the barbarian felines who ruled the woodlands… it would only be seen in your dreams.

You shut your eyes, the roaring of thunder overhead causing you to flinch into the soaked earth.

You had lost all hope.

You were stranded.

. . .

You felt a presence.

Your eyes weakly opened, and you were shocked to see… a group of cats. Massive, scarred, terrifyingly tall… They watched you like a piece of prey. You could only pray that they’d make your death swift.

Until, the one with the purple stare spoke up.

“Join us.”

🌙

Welcome to The Mountain’s Call!

We are a literate, 15+ roleplay group over on discord looking for more people to join us!

In a prehistoric world where humans cease to exist yet, a group of savage felines roam the Swiss Alps, fending off their home from unrestrained predators we now know as extinct.

Deep in the dense woodlands resides a legion of cats known as Alpine Clan. However, these aren’t your normal forest cats. With augmented senses, larger bodies, sharper claws, keener vision, and overall stronger physiques, these animals are on par with their feline brethren, such as cougars and lynxes.

We offer many things in our server, such as:

Totally new and reworked ranks, including 2 new (Sage, Berserker) ones that are crucial to the lore of the roleplay.

Original and unique traditions to make the roleplay more well-rounded.

Constant opportunities to have your character be more involved in the lore.

OOC channels to share your artwork, create and search for character relationships, and give suggestions for upcoming lore.

And so much more!

We are currently on CHAPTER 2: INFESTATION PART I, and will be moving into Part 2 soon.

🌑

So you’re all caught up, here’s a run-down of the Chapter 1 lore:

CHAPTER 1:

The moon will overtake the sky, leaving the forest to awake the shunned, red-eyed giant.

The clan’s czar, Wind Star, is awoken by his sage, Crimson Peak, frantically running into camp and begging to speak with him. After visiting the caves to speak with the ancestors, Crimson claims he could not speak with the stars, but was rather face to face with a great horned beast with giant red eyes and blood stained across its brown pelt.

Wind Star does not know what to make of this, so he tries to soothe the manic tomcat before telling him to keep this a secret between the two of them, and to not even tell Crimson’s acolyte, Moonlit Paw. Who also happened to be Wind Star’s daughter from his late mate. Crimson reluctantly agrees, and they both keep this disturbing prophecy to themselves.

🌒

A moon later, Wind Star and his new mate, Snow Step, have a litter of three kittens. Crow Kit, Polar Kit, and Smoke Kit. However, tensions are still high within the high ranks of Alpine Clan. No one is able to contact the ancestors. No one has been visited, no one, not even the sages, are able to see or speak to them. They grow worried, but Wind Star is still reluctant to tell the clan. He persuades his subordinates to keep it to themselves just for a little while longer, and they hesitantly agree. However, a few days later… something terrible would happen to the clan. Something that many cats interpreted as a signal that the stars were angry.

🌓

A flock of Sun Wings (giant condors) flew over the camp and attacked the clan. Three cats died, many were injured, and everyone was confused. Crimson Peak begged to let the clan know, but Wind Star had begun to… act different. He began to lose it, claiming that all the bad happening to the clan was from the direct influence of Crimson Peak. The sage himself bore the only red eyes in the entire clan, Wind Star was certain that what Crimson Peak saw was an alternate version of himself. The tom’s grew distant with one another, both wanting to help their clan, however… both having different ways of wanting to do so.

🌔

Three cats, War Cry, Bee Paw, and Mountain Caller all had their sleep disturbed with a nightmare. However, it seemed… all too real to be any type of dream. War Cry’s dream consisted of a giant beast with reddened eyes destroying their camp while she was cemented to the earth, unable to move. Bee Paw’s had him morph into the disgusting creature, soon being attacked and killed by everyone he loved. Mountain Caller’s dream had him faced with his brother as a kit, being forced to kill him. He refuses, however as he blinks away his tears, the kit transforms into the czar he knew, and kills him.

🌕

It all came to a climax when Crimson Peak stood at his altar inside of the sages den. He sobbed, begging for the stars to speak to him, give him a sign, do anything to let him know that he wasn’t alone. His wallowing was interrupted by Wind Star. The tom entered the den and began insulting Crimson, claiming it was his fault that the stars had gone silent. However, when Crimson turned around to defend himself, he was met with… purple eyes rather than the familiar fiery ones he was used to. Wind Star attacks Crimson Peak, pushing him into the old wooden altar, shattering it. Inside of the czar’s head, Wind Star’s consciousness fights brutally against the plague that had infected him. However, it was futile. The czar was killed, banished to the dark forest, and his body had been transformed into nothing but a hollow vessel that this imposter had full control of.

The czar rushed to call a clan meeting, his mania prominent as he demoted Crimson Peak and his own daughter to prisoners. Alpine Clan could only watch in horror as the czar they once respected had seemingly fallen off the deep end. Cats rushed to defend their sages, angering the imposter. Wind Star’s mate had tried to soothe the angered crowd, begging Wind to stop the meeting before he did anything else he regretted. Crimson Peak suddenly called the imposter out on not being their true czar, glaring up at him with no intent of becoming scum in the prisoners den.

The fake czar looked around, and upon realizing no one would be on his side, decided his fate then and there. Purple eyes gazed upon the throng once more before they launched down upon the sage, swiftly snapping his neck with one bite. The crowd erupted in shock, however before the imposter could do any more harm, he was killed by his luminary, Mountain Caller, Wind Star’s little brother.

The clan had no time to process what had just happened. As the prophecy that Crimson had tried to warm everyone about had just come storming into camp. A gargantuan beast the side as the trees raged into camp, blood on its tusks as it rampaged through the clearing. Mountain Caller, now Star, called for his clan to evacuate towards the river. There was no way they could fight against it. The camp was demolished via the beast's dirtied hooves, with countless cats being crushed, injured, and killed. Its eyes glowed an angry red. It seemed the beast only had intentions to kill.

After what felt like moons, the great tusked mammoth grew tired, and its eyes faded back to their more gentle brown. The creature seemed… confused. It didn’t seem to know how it ended up in the camp. It roared before stomping off, leaving a trail of purple flowers in its wake.

Many cats were killed. Many cats were lost in the chaos. Moonlit Paw, and Crow Kit, Wind Star’s two daughters fled to the moors in a desperate attempt to survive the attacks. No one knows where they went, or if they are even alive.

🌑

Chapter 2: Infestation, will be split into four parts —

Infestation I:

Beads of purple begin to decorate the territory as the drift fades into its colder months. Star Clan is completely silent. No one can speak to the stars. Cats are acting worried, but normal.

Infestation II:

Stalks of purple flowers bloom in camp, the sawbones begin to examine them, testing and tasting to see if they could be used for any medicinal properties. They find out that the flowers are poisonous & being in the vicinity of them can cause aggression, confusion, and volatility. Alpine Clan tries to remove them, but it seems they just grow back faster. Cats have begun to hallucinate, claiming they can speak to the “stars”.

Infestation III:

The clan has descended into shambles. The flowers continue to bloom, infesting the trees and thistles around the camp as well. Birds have begun to die from them, and it seems not even the snow can eliminate them. Cats claim they are closer to the stars than ever. They have begun worshiping a cat called ████, and have begun to shun all non-believers. Non-believers seem to be completely healthy, even when surrounded by the plants. Alpine Clan is at an all time low.

Infestation IV:

Alpine Clan is introduced to their salvation.

—

If you’re interested in applying, feel free to DM this account and I’ll send you a form!

🪻

9 notes · View notes

iamnmbr3 · 7 months ago

Note

If Voldemort won, I think he would go the dictator route and his rise into mainstream political power and eventual downfall would parallel H*tle*r’s. In the end, I think his attempt to put wizards against muggles would just create a common enemy between both, and someone would end what Harry started.

I think the interesting thing is that in a world with magic a dictator looks different than in the real world. Real world dictators, no matter how much they pretend otherwise, are ultimately just one ordinary person who must rely on others to retain and wield power. Creating a cult of personality around themselves is one tool they use to hold onto power and keep their support from turning on them, since by themselves they are no stronger than anyone else.

Throughout history we have seen many cases of dictators losing power when their inner circle - and especially the military - finally had enough. Think of how many Roman Emperors for example were murdered and then replaced by their own personal guard who had finally decided to throw their support behind someone else.

In a world with magic that's a bit different. There someone who rises up to be a dictator is likely to be someone who is inherently powerful in and of themselves. Yes Riddle has minions to do his bidding and support him. But even standing alone with no support he is inherently extremely powerful and formidable due to his prodigious skill and magical power. And that's a big part of how he got power to begin with - because his supporters flock to him out of fear since they're not strong enough to stand against him.

Now yes, even he still needs support and needs to convince the Pureblood families for example that they have a common cause with him and should support him. But it's a bit different. Because if they all desert him he doesn't become powerless like a real dictator would.

Certainly I think he wouldn't tolerate anyone opposing him - as we saw in book 7. But he also doesn't really seem that interested in ruling directly. And in a world with the the Imperius Curse he can always get a puppet to do that - willing or otherwise. He wants power but he's not super interested in actually exercising it.

I do definitely agree that his increasing erratic-ness and cruelty and violence would've alienated a lot of people - as we see in canon with stuff like Narcissa turning on him - and caused resistance to rise up.

A wrinkle though is that all the nonhuman creatures seem to overwhelmingly support him because he offers them more rights and less misery than they've endured from the mainstream magical world. Even when werewolves and giants are joining Voldemort left and right canonically because he is offering them rights, no one either in the Order or the Ministry approaches them with a comparable offer. So they would've probably kept supporting him - even though he also allies himself with blood purists who hate them - unless a better option emerged.

I've seen very compelling meta that his ultimate goal was general destruction of the wizarding world and I think it's quite compelling. I think he suffered at the hands of Muggles because of his magical abilities. And also was shunned and looked down on in Wizarding society by old wizarding families. And thus I think he has great hatred and disdain for all these groups. And I could definitely see him wanting revenge. Indeed, we never see him tormenting muggles for fun but he does take great delight and hurting and degrading his own pureblood followers.

#asks #Voldemort

6 notes · View notes

sharkface · 1 year ago

Note

3 6 8 13 18 23

This one is under a cut because it's so long <3

3.any recurring images/elements?

Oh my god so so so many. Pretty much every character has their own giant set of symbols not so much because I just looove subtle writing that makes you think but because I find it very hard to bring up motifs in the actual text I write. The most important of them for the main three though:

Bitters: The Judge. The color red, pairs of scissors, cicadas/mosquitos, the white streaks in her hair, street signs. The pip of an apple tree. Justice and order through enforced rules.

Caz: The Jury. The color yellow, stuffed cats, matchboxes, carnivorous plants, crashed cars. Emancipation through anarchy- the law of the jungle.

Clove: The Executioner. The color white, angels, wires/machinery, any and all inescapable enclosed spaces, road crossings. Butcher's fridges. Sterile places subjected to revolting situations. Amnesty through moderation and inhibition.

6.) speaking of tv adaptations, why would yours get cancelled? (other than capitalism)

I know the interesting answer for this question is "I would get CANCELLED for my DARK THEMES and TV ACTIVISM" but honestly I'm not that ambitious or driven as a writer. I kind of just make the things I want to see. I don't think it would be appealing to a network in the first place. I think if it ever got a production contract, it would be an experimental series with a cult following and suddenly be dropped for not making enough money.

8.) what inspired your world building, if anything?

When I originally made these characters it was DIRECTLY because of my obsession with the kagerou project and higurashi. It's a lot more like the former than the latter to this day. Really, any time loop media I've been into has inspired it in some way.

13.) how long have you been working on this project? what has changed from the outset?

9 years! It's been entirely rewritten like, four times now. Some of the characters were repurposed as DND characters and then back to ocs again. Caz was originally my player character in a JJBA themed tabletop. There used to be more main characters but I only found the main 3 and Finch to be appealing enough to me to bother keeping in the story in a meaningful way, which is kind of a shame because I love some of the work I did with other characters. But this is just how writing goes.

It was originally about a group of teenagers with powers who had been repeatedly reincarnated into a world where everyone either had cat features or bird wings. This was because Bitters had been given the ability to create her "perfect world" by a pair of gods taking the form of a flock of birds and a cat after being the last person remaining on earth following a wave of disease that came after a meteor impact, and had been reborn to live in it- But her perfect world didn't pan out the way she wanted it to because she had no reasonable idea of what a "good life" would be like.

Bitters does not have godlike power anymore, lol. It was kind of flimsy as a plot altogether.

18.) what aspect of the story would get you #canceled on twitter?

Probably Clove and Caz's terrible toxic cringe "romance"(if you can call it that). People would accuse me of baiting first and then move on to saying I'm a homophobe for not making the two gay men's relationship completely domestic and healthy. The point of it is that they are badly adjusted people individually and can't foster a healthy relationship with each other just by liking each other. They also never even actually date or anything like that. Outside of the circumstances of their situation they probably wouldn't have even become friends.

23.) describe how everyones character gets butchered once in the public eye?

Caz: The kinnies will descend on him not unlike a hawk to a purse dog. The amount of angst fanart and discourse will be fucking insane. People love taking annoying anime murdertwinks who are deeply pathetic awful people by choice and pretending they are just tortured and can be fixed through romance.

Clove: People are probably going to declaw him into a shy demure "tall calm bf" while not really caring much about his personal arc and draw him in big cozy cable knit sweaters and aprons. Lots of "he's a woman to me" but ignoring him being transfem later on in the plot. That kind of thing.

Bitters: "Mom friend." People will probably not like her because she is mean and kind of unreasonably judgmental and people think it's a plot hole when characters don't behave perfectly logically at all times. She's a woman so I doubt the yaoi enjoyers of this website will even pay substantial attention to her.

#long post #recreation #Bwuh. Typing

1 note · View note

androsamo · 2 years ago

Text

The Best Cities for New Canadian Residents

Will you be settling down in Canada? Let us introduce you to the best ten Canadian cities for newcomers to get you started.

Canada is often cited as a top destination in Europe for international migrants due to the numerous benefits of moving there.

If you're a newcomer to Canada, you might be interested in knowing which ten cities are the best to settle in. First, Ontario

Numerous Canadian financial institutions have their headquarters in Toronto, making the city strategically significant. lmia employer list .

Additionally, Toronto is widely considered to be one of Canada's loveliest metropolises. According to some estimates, most of the city's population does not speak English as their first language.

Toronto is a great place to plant permanent roots and find a sense of belonging.

Toronto is a great place to settle down in a new city and launch a new career. As a result, Toronto now boasts Canada's lowest jobless rate.

Greater Vancouver Area, British Columbia

Vancouver is an excellent spot to settle in if you're seeking for a city in Canada that accepts newcomers and provides a high standard of living.

Comfort-wise, city life provides everything one might want.

To boot, with over a thousand foreign companies calling Vancouver home, it is also one of the wealthiest cities in Canada. The atmosphere in the city is relaxed, and the weather is wonderful.

Facebook, Twitter, and Google are just some of the internet giants that have established local presences.

As of right now, Calgara is in third place.

A study found that of all major Canadian cities, Calgarians are the most likely to be born outside of Canada.

In this way, the city has become more welcoming. It's possible to feel like a foreigner in some places, but if you find yourself in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, you can rest assured that you won't have any trouble finding a conversation partner who speaks your language.

People from all over the world have been flocking to Calgary because of the city's abundant resources and favorable job market.

The fourth-ranked city is Halifax.

Halifax is the cleanest city in Canada, according to the government's cleaning agency, and it places a premium on a wide variety of cultural activities.

Newcomers are always welcome in the city, and the local government is happy to have them so long as they promise to play by the rules and do their best to improve conditions for everyone.

Number Five: Ottawa, Canada

Ottawa, being the nation's capital, is one of the most talked-about destinations in Canada.

Some people think that because of all the opportunities, immigrants shouldn't be allowed to stay in the country. Ottawa is a great option if you're an immigrant artist looking to showcase your work to a large audience.

The town of Oakville is number six.

Oakville is a great place to settle down because it has one of the highest immigrant populations in all of Canada.

Because of its peace and diversity, Oakville has become a popular place for people to settle.

7 - Québec

Quebec is often called "Canada's gem" since the province has more supermarkets per capita than any other in the country.

Quebec City is the place to be if you're seeking a more eco-friendly, low-impact way of living.

Alberta's eighth-largest city, Calgary, comes in at no.

Aside from being the country's most populous city, Calgary also hosts the country's most significant oil industry.

Make Quebec City your home base for exploring the rest of Canada.

Number nine on the list is Burlington.

To start over in life without worrying about leaving anything important behind, Burlington, Canada is the place to be.

For good reason, tens of thousands of people have moved here to take advantage of the city's attractions and job prospects and enjoy the high standard of living that it offers. In addition, I'll remark that this city is home to some of Canada's finest educational institutions.

In the top 10 is the city of Halifax.

As a result of its low tax rate, Halifax has been a favorite location for immigrants. It's not ideal for business owners to set up shop in Canada because of the high tax rates in most municipalities.

0 notes

aellynera · 4 years ago

Text

Beat the System (Poe Dameron x f!Reader; high school AU)

BEAT THE SYSTEM

My darling @autumnleaves1991-blog is doing a Writer Wednesday thing (click that link for details) and today’s challenge was:

...so I wrote this little thing. may or may not be based on things that might have somewhat happened during my years as a summer amusement park lackey.

Word Count: ~2100

Summary: You see a lot of people at your summer job, and you didn’t really want to see him or for him to see you, but that’s not how the system works.

Warnings: Female reader. High School AU. References to clowns. Complaining. Nothing else really, just a lot of fluff. As usual, mostly kind of proofread.

You kind of hated your summer job.

It wasn’t so much that you hated having to get a job in the first place, after your parents insisted that’s what you’d need to do if you wanted your own car. And the job itself was actually pretty easy, at least in theory.

The ring toss stand at the local amusement park was your domain. Your days were spent surrounded by giant stuffed elephants and aliens and teddy bears, taking money, handing out rings, watching people throw them at bottles. Ninety-nine percent of the time this also meant watching them lose. The losses generally led to another futile round of buying and tossing. And, invariably, cussing; never mind that this was a family establishment and there was a five-year-old standing three feet away from the offender.

No, it was the job on repeat for eight hours a day, five days out of the week. It was seeing all your friends come by and have fun while you literally had to watch them (but hey, at least you got paid.) It was having to work every single weekend. And it was all the people. People you’d known your whole life, people who lived in neighboring towns, busses full of people from who knows where that flocked to this place every single year.

And it was just weird to think of this place as a destination. It was just the amusement park that was there all your life, that your parents went to when they were in high school, and maybe their parents did too. This place was freaking old. But why people felt the need to come by the busload from hours away--

“Hey, I didn’t know you worked here.”

The voice broke through your ranting brain and you looked up to see a familiar face grinning back at you from the other side of the booth.

Poe Dameron was a senior. He was captain of both the football and the soccer team, treasurer of the student council, sang on the chorus, played bass in the jazz band, was in the drama club, and you were pretty sure there were at least a dozen other things he just did because he was good at everything.

He was also ridiculously hot and the last person you wanted to see you in your ridiculous, brightly colored work uniform. He stood before you looking like he just crawled off the cover of a romance novel, all tan skin and dark curls and defined muscles, and there you were with a high ponytail and baggy shorts and a shirt that would put a clown to shame.

Honestly, all you needed were the giant floppy shoes.

He was also there with a group of his rowdy, juvenile football friends, which only promised to make this hell even more scorching. At least for now, they seemed to be occupied with ogling the girl who ran the tilt-a-whirl across the path and completely ignoring you.

You scrunched your face at him. “Poe, I’ve seen you here like twenty times this summer. You’ve even played this game before. You know I work here.”

“Okay, you got me,” his grin didn’t falter. You weren’t sure, but it might have even gotten a little bigger. He handed over ten dollars. “A bucket of rings, please.”

Great, he was going to hang around. You glanced at your watch, and it solemnly informed you that your break wasn’t for another hour and half. So you were stuck there. In a virtual clown suit. With the hot senior you might have had a little crush on.

Not like you ever doodled his initials in your notebooks or on scraps of paper when the crowds at the stand died down. You denied all knowledge of these supposed incidents.

You could act like a normal person in his presence.

You sighed and took the money from him, handing him a bucket full of red plastic rings in return. “You know this game is rigged, right? They all are.”

“So I’ve heard.” He picked up his first ring. “But I am determined to beat the system.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you have to be good at everything?”

Poe shot you a quick side-eye before turning his attention back to the sea of bottles in front of him. He tossed the first ring and it flipped end over end before bouncing off a bottle top with a spectacular ding! His brow furrowed as he reached for another ring.

“Apparently not,” he muttered. “But I’ll still beat it. You see, there’s this girl I want to impress, and…” He tossed the second ring and watched it ricochet off another bottle top.

“Of course there is,” you snorted. “There’s probably a whole horde of them.”

He chuckled. “Nope, just one.”

You waved your arm in a grand gesture toward the playing field. “Well then, have at it, Romeo. You know the rules. No leaning over the rail, and you have to land five rings to win. Let me know when you need another bucket.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” he replied as he tossed yet another ring. You tried, you really really tried, to ignore the way the tip of his tongue stuck out between his teeth as he concentrated.

And so it went until the entire bucket full of rings littered the floor of the stall, with nary a single one landing on its intended target. You grabbed the sweeper and started pushing them back into the bins underneath the counter.

Poe growled in frustration. “Seriously?!” He waved another ten in your direction and you handed him another bucket, giggling as you made the exchange.

“I told you, it’s rigged. But…” you crooked a finger to motion him closer. And then tried to remember how breathing worked as he leaned in, now just inches from your face.

“Yeah?” he whispered.

The attempt to subtly clear your throat was only half successful.

“Well, I didn’t tell you this,” you pointed toward the bottles, “but the table is slightly higher on that side, and so is that one part in the middle. If you aim for those bottles, you can probably bounce the rings onto the lower ones.”

The grin he flashed almost blinded you. “Beat the system.”

“Beat the system,” you agreed.

You leaned back and watched. After the first six rings or so, Poe seemed to figure out which bottles to aim for and how to toss the ring (with a bit of spin, of course) and before you knew it, his fifth ring landed on the center bottle and he was shouting “yes!” with a little fist pump.

“I am impressed, Dameron,” you said, clapping. “I bet this girl will be too.”

“I hope so,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Did he suddenly look kind of shy? No, that wasn’t Poe Dameron. He was the polar opposite of shy.

“Which one?” you asked, pointing to the prizes hanging above you.

“Which one would you pick? If you just beat the system and you were trying to impress someone?”

“Uhhh…” Why in the world was he asking you? It didn’t matter, this was his deal, you just worked there. And quite honestly, you probably wouldn’t pick any of these monstrosities. They were huge. And kind of weird looking. And neon colored.

After a few moments of confused contemplation, your eyes finally landed on a giant purple teddy bear, half hidden behind a chartreuse alien and an orange thing that was trying to impersonate an octopus. You pulled it down and handed it over.

“Here you go, the least weird thing you just spent twenty bucks on when you could have just gone to the mall and bought something more reasonable.”

“Nah, this is perfect,” Poe replied, grabbing the bear. It was nearly half as big as he was. You often wondered how anyone dragged them around the park for the rest of the day, much less managed to get them home. “Thanks for the advice.”

You couldn’t help the smirk that rose on your lips. “It was either that, or have to explain to my supervisor why you would have ended up hanging around until the park closed.”

He laughed loudly. “Rey would have understood. She’s cool like that.”

“Geez, you’re good at everything, do you know everyone in the entire galaxy too?”

Poe didn’t seem to hear you, though, as he looked over his shoulder and around the area, and you followed his gaze. His friends were nowhere to be seen and vaguely, you wondered when they’d wandered off and why they hadn’t very loudly announced it to him. He glanced back at you with a sheepish smile.

“I, uh, I should go find the guys,” he said. “And let you get back to work.”

“Yeah, okay,” you replied. All of the easy-going rapport from the past however long Poe had been there suddenly evaporated and every ounce of awkwardness you normally felt around him returned. “I’ll see you.”

You might have been looking anywhere but at him, but you didn’t miss the small wave he gave you as he walked away, and you definitely felt the heat that rose in your cheeks.

Poe was quickly forgotten as a swarm of ten-year-olds rushed the stand and the incessant clanging of misthrown rings once again took over all your waking moments. You didn’t think about him for the rest of your shift. All you could think about was how tired you were, how hot the day had been, how much you wanted to shower and sleep and pretend you didn’t have to do this again tomorrow and--

Your feet ground to halt in the employee parking lot and approached your beloved car, the entire reason you had this forsaken job in the first place. Your car, which, you would have serious questions had you not known exactly where the thing came from, had a giant purple teddy bear sitting on the hood.

As you got closer, you could see something sticking out from beneath the bow tied around its neck. It was a slip of paper, with a phone number scrawled on it. And a little “P.” with a heart.

What was even happening right now.

Before you knew it, your phone was out of your purse and you were calling his number. Sure, you might have had to dial it four times because your nervous fingers kept pressing the wrong digits, but who was counting? And never mind that it was almost midnight. It was summer, he’d still be awake, right?

Finally you got it right, and the call picked up on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” you breathed.

“Hey,” you could picture the trademark Dameron grin behind it. And he sounded...relieved? “I’m really glad you called.”

“How did you get into the employee parking lot?”

“I didn’t. I asked Rey for a favor. I figured she might know which car was yours. Told you she’s cool like that.”

You laughed softly. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess she really is.”

“So I do have a really important question for you. Well, two actually.”

“I’m listening,” you said. It was hard to hear anything over how hard your heart was thumping in your ears, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Question one. Can I take you out on a date?”

“Yeah,” you said again and closed your eyes, partly out of a need to center yourself and mostly out of sheer embarrassment. Maybe one day, you would remember how to speak to Poe Dameron in multiple word sentences, but right at this moment was not that time. Oh well.

“Awesome,” he breathed out. “I was hoping you’d say yes.”

“Yes.” Thankfully he didn’t seem to be deterred by your current lack of language skills.

Poe laughed warmly. “Now, second question. Did it work?”

This time you couldn’t even come up with a verbal response. You just erupted in a bout of giggles, Poe Dameron laughing along with you. And somehow, you got that ridiculous monstrosity of a teddy bear into your back seat.

The somehows kept coming. Somehow you remembered how to use words. Somehow it was well after midnight now without either of you giving it permission to get that late. Somehow your phone refused to end the call. Somehow the hours were slipping by until you had to be at the park for an early opening shift in the morning, and somehow you suddenly didn’t care at all about getting any sleep.

Maybe this job wasn’t so bad, after all.

~end~

Taglist: @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @be-the-spark-flyboy @deeandbobbymcgee @huxdameron @itspdameronthings @jitterbugs927 @nathan-bateman @poedjarin @rosemarysbaby13 @sergeantkane @spider-starry @woakiees @writefightandflightclub @veuliee2 @yourbucky084 @waatermelon-sugaar

Poe Dameron taglist: @millllenniawrites @the-fifth-marauder-03

>>join the taglist here<<

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe darmeron x you #poe dameron au #poe dameron high school au #au!poe dameron #au!poe #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fanfiction #writer wednesday #writing challenge #my writing #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac character au

132 notes · View notes

ask-prime-starscream · 4 years ago

Photo

Now what? - The future of this blog

Currently I have five Alternate Universes float around in my head and maybe you’ll like them to come to life here? I plan fanart, comics and maybe some graphic novel style with art and written text. Please share your thoughts and opinions. <3 I. How to raise your sparkling - TFA AU

After Starscream got captured by the Elite Guard, they start to experiment with his CNA to create Autobots with flight ability. However, Starscream manages to free himself and out of spite he snatches the two protoforms right out of their incubator. But he doesn’t feel pleased with himself for long. On the run and with now two demanding sparklings craving his attention, killing Megatron and ruling the universe isn’t such an easy goal anymore...

II. Metroplex Asylum - IDW1/Cyberverse AU set after TAAO

Based on the scrapped idea for Starscream to return with amnesia, after his Quintesson form got destroyed. I would let this take place in the Cyberverse universe, but IDW1 provides so much better world building and consequences, so it’s set there. Windblade fights Vigilem alone in her own head until Starscream logs in to help. During the procedure, Vigilem manages to almost totally override Starscream’s brain-module which forces Airachnid to call a halt before it’s too late. She fries the unwelcome foreign pattern inside Starscream’s head, causing irreparable damage. When Starscream wakes up again - something they didn’t even hope for - he has only a fleeting grasp of some events (mostly early war), tends to terrible mood swings and is obsessed with Windblade, who feels responsible for him, but can’t handle his unfiltered feelings towards her. In the end they have no other choice, but to put the Chosen One, the leader of Cybertron, into an institution full with other bots with mental health issues. While Starscream bends over backwards to make sense of his surroundings and is generally at peace with himself, the past, present and future won’t stop haunting him.

III. Endless Utopia - IDW2 AU

I already started this comic until I put it on hiatus last year. However, I have nine pages in the making and plan to update this soon and hopefully at a faster pace. This AU is based on the idea of a “Nicescream”. Even though his life is more than complicated, he found his own little happiness. But pre-war Cybertron won’t leave him alone.

IV. Moon City - No specific universe with a pinch of Armada

Decades after the war between Autobots and Decepticons ended, earth is a mostly unhabitable place thanks to climate change and World War III. The only flicker of hope for the average human survivor is Moon City, a base built on the moon with artificial atmosphere and Cybertronian technology. While it provides a life in luxury and first of all health, not everyone can enter and the cost of living is sky high. Alexis Thi Dang got the grades to be accepted at the Moon City Academy, but scrapping the money together to keep studying is a daily struggle. Desperately searching on the network for ways to get benefits, she stumbles over the possible solution: In this city of the future, humans who are partnered to a Cybertronian are extremely privileged. Especially the winners of the war, the Autobots, are highly demanded partners. The Council of Humanity even runs a secret project to create a techno-organic mix-race which is supposed to be the answer to the new living conditions in space and possible colonies in foreign atmospheres. Anybody contributing to this goal has their place in Moon City ensured. Alexis however, is among the population just an average Jane, so she cannot even dream of finding a Cybertronian who wants to hook up with a human. Therefore she surfs the dark net and finds a fishy organization willing to provide her a partner... Starscream is on the run since the war ended and hides in the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter where he scratches together all the energon he can find. One day he gets roused by humans searching for the same... and Cybertronian spare parts. Barely able to flee, he looks for a safe haven and meets Swindle who is into some not so legal businesses and makes Starscream some not so confidence-inspiring promises to smuggle him into Moon City, the only place of Cybertronian standards he can reach for now. Desperate, Starscream agrees... and gets paired up with Alexis. The beginning of a “wonderful” partnership.

V. Starscream the Movie - No specific universe

I once wanted to create a canon divergent Bumble Bee the Movie fic. This was born out of the idea that both Bee and Starscream are stranded on earth, but I rewrote the whole thing into basically “What could a movie about Starscream look like?” So, we got everything. His creation, his place among the Decepticons, his relationship with Megatron and of course his flock, Skywarp, Thundercracker, Slipstream... a benevolent doctor called Knock Out and the joys of being a giant robot thrashing planets with primitive species and Autobots trying to protect them. Starscream’s winning streak goes to his head though and results in his fall from grace. He is basically degraded to hunt down insignificant Autobot bases and his first target is Bee on earth. This is probably my most ambitious project and that’s why I can’t reveal too much.

(VI. A forgotten grave - IDW1)

Short comic about Megatron who wants to meet Starscream one last time before his execution. Based on this:

Q: How did the LL crew - specifically Megatron - react to the deaths of Optimus, Soundwave, and Starscream?

A: Let's specifically focus on Megatron - he would've been conflicted about all three. Would've been most cut up over Starscream's death, because there was a lot of unfinished business between him and Starscream, and the reformed pacifist Megatron never got to meet Starscream. That probably eats away at him. Closely followed by Optimus. Would've been incredibly interested in what Soundwave had done and would've been proud of him. Imagine he would have been bitterly affected by all three deaths in slightly different ways.

While Megatron shows NEVER any regret about how he treated Starscream in the comics, I’ll just take this word of god here and do something with it.

---

Well then. Any thoughts? ;D

#Starscream #TFP Starscream #TFA Starscream #IDW Starscream #Jetfire and Jetstorm babies

143 notes · View notes

tainted-wine · 4 years ago

Text

This ask is referring to this.

(This mini fic feels like it’s all over the place. Just me enjoying some half-assed worldbuilding, I guess. I had to stop it before things got too heated because I promised myself to keep this one sfw and it’s already longer than intended. Like anon suggested, this is a fantasy AU with some Spartan inspiration. I thought it would be amusing if Hawks was the only 300-style warrior, while the rest wore more accurate and convenient armor.)

----------x----------

The avian people.

A winged race known for their impish behavior and irritating ability to swoop in on unfortunate groups and settlements, spreading mischief and fleeing before they can face any consequences. The many troubles they bring has given them a sour reputation among humankind, but the sudden appearance of a lone avian on the outskirts of the country might be enough to change our perspective. Perhaps they are more than devious opportunists…

The feather moved.

You nearly tripped over your own feet when you noticed the slightest twitch of the red plume attached to the golden chain around your neck, placing a hand on the round curve of your stomach as you tried to balance yourself. Three long months—you prayed to the gods every day for both the life growing in your womb and the safety of its father.

You last saw your husband marching into battle with his head held high along with the rest of his comrades, men that scoffed at his very presence just three years ago, and probably still do, if you were to be honest. But he has earned the entire kingdom’s respect through his recent training, training that you all quickly learned wasn’t necessary.

The soldiers of this country were strong and experienced, there was no doubt about that, but they were also vastly outnumbered by the enemy forces. No matter what the proudest warrior tells you with complete confidence in their skill, numbers do matter in a battle.

The greedy kingdom that sought to rule the strong yet peaceful country you resided in was ruthless—they have taken the heads of several kingdoms’ finest warriors, and the less honorable ones surrendered and now fight under their command. Despite your spouse’s promises and reassurance, despite witnessing his amazing skills in combat firsthand, you still feared that victory was too far out of reach. It shames you to admit that you were already prepared to raise your child by your lonesome.

But then the feather moved again, this time briefly lifting off your chest before falling back down. So you weren’t seeing things.

“Miss! Please be careful!” Your maid rushed into the room when she saw you stumbling, gently holding you up. You were eternally grateful for the work she has put in caring for you and taking up some of your husband’s work. As your child grew and drained more of your energy, an extra pair of hands to take care of the house and errands was greatly appreciated.

You held onto her as you pushed through the sudden pains to reach the door. “He’s here! My necklace! They’ve returned!”

“Ah, finally! Of course they have,” she said calmly now that you weren’t in danger of falling. “I told you there was no need to worry. There are no other warriors in the world like ours,” she paused. “Well, assuming that not all avians are as gifted as your precious Keigo.”

You laughed softly. Keigo did tell you and many others that he was far from the only fighter in his homeland. Even after taking his hand in marriage, he refuses to reveal his reason for leaving his people, choosing to wander a land inhabited by humans who watched him with distrust. You have long since accepted his secretive nature.

Both of you pushed the door open and stepped outside, just in time to hear the bellow of a great horn, the sound traveling outside the city’s walls and up into the hills where your humble house stands. It wasn’t the most convenient location, but Keigo wanted to live on a higher spot, and you didn’t mind catering to his bird-like habits. Besides, waking up to soft breezes and birdsongs was much more pleasant than the bustling city.

Your maid kept a firm hold on your arm as you watched people rush through the streets and toward the gates, ready to welcome the brave men home. Your chest remained tightened. How many survivors were there? ‘It doesn’t matter,’ you selfishly thought. ‘Keigo is there. They won’t admit it, but he was the best out of all of them.’

“Don’t you even think of heading down there,” she was giving you a stern look that a mother would give a naughty child. “You’re still upholding your promise to stay close to home after falling ill so suddenly yesterday. I know you haven’t seen him in three months, but please be patient. You’ll be reunited soon.”

Your brooding may be responsible for the illness and pains that have been striking you more frequently, but frankly, if you were to ever collapse, you’d be more worried about the older woman’s heart than your own wellbeing. “Rest easy, I’m not going anywhere,” you promised her. “Besides, I’m quite certain that he’ll be coming to me very soon.”

“What? What do you mean? They need to answer to the king before they return to their families.”

“Yes, that’s what they’re expected to do...” You trailed off. There was an odd feeling in your gut, and it wasn’t the baby. It looked like everyone in the city has gathered in one giant mass, waiting for their heroes.

And then you saw him.

The gate was slowly opening, but something, someone has launched into the air and over the walls, and your heart lifted just as high. A man with a magnificent pair of crimson wings soared over each and every structure, heading up to the hills.

“Wh-H-He can’t do that! He’s ignoring the royal family’s wishes!” The poor maid was in a panic, but you were too stunned, too elated at the sight of your lover getting closer at an impossible speed.

The people of this kingdom have little exposure to non-human races. The simple sight of him dashing over the city and gracefully landing in front of you never failed to bring stars to your eyes.

Keigo Takami was already removing his bronze helmet as he approached, shaking out his head of tousled blond locks. You weren’t expecting him to look so presentable upon his return—it looked as if he had time for a decent bath before his final march home.

His bare chest looked mostly unscathed, only a few cuts and small traces of bruises littering his skin. The warriors detested his refusal to wear his chest plate; he claimed that it would only weigh him down during flight. He also rejected their weapons and relied on his own feathers to serve as his spears and swords. They did decide to let him go without a cloak, his wings working well enough as a replacement. The armor on his shins was also added weight, but not enough for him to complain about to the exasperated warriors. He told you himself that the only reason he wears the helmet that obscures his sharp vision, is because he admittedly likes the red crest.

But the one piece of equipment that the small army did not allow Keigo to reject, no matter how many times he whined about its size and weight, was the shield. The shield is his promise to protect not only himself, but the entire line of his fellow comrades in the heat of battle. So he held his tongue and carried the huge monster of bronze and leather, complete with a unique design of a hawk with its wings flared out like a rising phoenix.

You broke free of the maid’s grasp and rushed over to throw your arms around your beloved wanderer-turned-hero. He dropped his shield and helmet onto the soft earth (you can already hear his comrades screaming in horror) to hug you back gently, mindful of your belly that has grown so much during his time away. You took it all in—his warmth, his scent, the feeling of safety as his wings close around you—how badly you have missed his presence over the months hits you full force when he pulls back to bring you in for a kiss.

Amidst the heat and passion, you can hear the maid’s fumbled words as she excuses herself to head down to the city and welcome the others. You part from him before he steals the last of your breath, gazing into those friendly and playful golden orbs. You wondered how much deadlier those eyes looked when driving his red blades into any unfortunate opponents. His roughened, calloused fingers traced the lone feather hanging on your neck while you caressed his face.

His smooth and silky voice embraced both your ears and heart. “My beautiful bird.”

You never did come up with an affectionate little name for your foreign husband. “Keigo.”

He chuckled. “I hope you weren’t having any doubts while I was gone. No army in the world is going to keep me away from my mate for life.”

Mate. His choice of words was rather…barbarous sometimes. It took some time to adapt to your bed being the nest, or his excited talks of raising his very own flock. “You know that I can’t help but worry.”

“I know you’re strong, love, but don’t let your worry get to our chick,” he reminded you as his wings twitched. There was a serious shift in his face before he knelt down, touching your belly softly as his feathers shook.

Fear began to grip you. “Keigo? Is something wrong with the baby?”

He doesn’t answer immediately, taking another minute to listen carefully before looking up at you with a heartfelt smile. “Babies, love.”

Your eyes narrow…then widen in disbelief. “Twins?”

He nodded along with his flapping wings. “Two tiny hearts...I can feel them. These wings are never wrong.”

You didn’t know it was possible to feel even more joy, but you find yourself pulling him back up for another kiss. Two children to raise with your lover who returned from a war against a seemingly endless army. What did you do to please the gods and receive such a blessing?

“You know,” you said against his lips. “You should be on your way to the castle. The king-”

“Can wait,” he interrupted before attacking your lips with more quick pecks. “I appreciate how much this place has tolerated me. Despite how annoyed you all were the moment I arrived, no one ever forced me out, and I am truly grateful. But don’t think this ‘no good avian’ is going to become some all-noble knight just because he fought a million men to protect his home. I’m just showing my gratitude.”

You laughed into his face. “You really don’t want your reputation as a freeloading trickster to change? The royal family might have an incredible reward for you. For us.”

“Hmm, and what could they have in store for me? Free poultry for as long as I live?”

“Keigo,” you shook your head lightly, trying not to interrupt his lips.

“Too demanding? How about a discount on every purchase for as long as I live? Doesn’t that sound great?” He rubbed your stomach as his kisses trailed down to your jaw. “Don’t you want our chicks to have all the meat they deserve? So that they can grow into powerful birds of prey just like their father?”

His mouth reached your neck, and things were getting more heated than anticipated when his hot mouth closed over the flesh above your pulse. “Ah…” You gasped.

“Want to know what else I’ve been missing?” You can feel the naughty smirk curling against your throat. “I hope your stamina hasn’t lessened, little bird.”

You want to laugh at how he’s thinking about getting intimate already, but the licks against your sensitive skin are making it hard to resist. “Is your crazed lust another avian trait, or is it just you?” Your fingers tangled in his locks, urging him to keep going.

“Mmm, we’re not as anal about suppressing our urges.” A hand cups one of your tender breasts and gives it a soft squeeze. “Before you met me, did you ever expect to fuck your man so many times? Isn’t it liberating?”

The crude word spreads warmth somewhere lower. “We make love, Keigo.”

“Some nights, we do. Those louder and rougher nights, when I have you screaming through those shy hands covering your mouth? We’re fucking.”

Something was poking you down there, and that was your cue to move this indoors. “Clearly you have too much energy left from your glorious battles.” You motioned for him to pick up his gear before walking back to the house. “Now come inside.”

He grinned and licked his lips. “That’s where I always-”

“Keigo.”

#asks #hawks #i might touch this world again sometime #no promises of course

360 notes · View notes

vannahfanfics · 3 years ago

Text

A Tale of Two Swords: Foreword

Foreword

Light and darkness—two sides of the same coin, two forces forever locked in conflict. Their collision is the subject of timeless tales passed down through the generations, legends and myths ingrained deep within our consciences. Yet within every myth is a grain of truth, and behind every legendary hero and wicked villain is a true struggle hidden within… This is but one of those truths preserved in time.

It began, like many tales do, with a great king of men.

On the western coast of the continent stood the Kingdom of Yuuei, a glimmering city on the sea. Merchants from all across the continent flocked here to exchange goods of all kinds, taking with them riches to supply their own lands. Presiding over this glorious capital city was a young but accomplished king—Toshinori Yagi, wielder of the legendary greatsword One for All . Above everything, Toshinori valued compassion, honor, and justice; he ruled fairly and justly, and the kingdom of Yuuei entered an unprecedented era of peace and prosperity. Never before had the lords of the continent united together in an effort for all to share in wealth and comfort and security…

Yet in the east, a shadow began to grow. Amidst the black crags of lands once scorched by dragons’ breath, cursed by black mages, wrought by giants’ hammers in countless wars of old, a sleepless malice emerged. A mysterious sorcerer known only as All for One gathered evil forces from across the continent and established a kingdom of darkness: Elmorta. He launched a war for dominion of the continent, centered around a singular goal: claiming the power of the Priestesses of Uravity.

The city of Uravity sat upon the Angel’s Fist, a plateau overlooking the city of Yuuei. The Priestesses had watched over the continent since the early days of civilization, as charged by the gods. Gifted with incomparable magic power despite being few in number, the Priestesses guided the fate of the world by offering council to lords and kings and providing their power in battles against forces of darkness. Yet, there was one power in particular that All for One coveted. It was the gift given to the High Priestess, the greatest of their order—the gift of foresight.

All for One’s evil spread across the west, hordes of monsters and beasts and evil creatures invading all corners of the land. With each kingdom locked in turmoil, All for One’s march to the Angel’s Fist was uninhibited. All hope seemed lost. The future seemed destined for darkness, an eternity under tyranny…

Yet it when the darkness is the strongest that the light shines brightest.

Toshinori Yagi rallied the other kingdoms, creating a continent-wide alliance that had never before been seen. He and the High Priestess led the charge, eventually driving All for One’s forces back into the crags of his wretched kingdom. And it is there that one story ends, and another begins…

It was hard to breathe. It had been hard to breathe ever since they marched upon this desolate land, the ash and dust choking the air filling their lungs with poison—but the gaping wound in Toshinori’s side certainly didn’t help things. He could feel his innards squishing between his fingers as he pressed his hand into the gash in his chainmail. Was that one of his ribs that he just felt brush against his fingertips? Blood loss was already making his head spin, so it was hard to discern what was reality and what was delusion.

He wasn’t sure when he fell, but now here he was, sitting on his knees on the jagged rock. Every inhale sent pain spiderwebbing across his nerves, making his body crackle with electricity. Or perhaps it was the lingering effects of the black magic that had scorched his skin and gouged his flesh.

All for One, he remembered, and adrenaline rushed through his system once more. The last few moments had all been a blur; a tumultuous collision with the dark sorcerer that had left him kneeling amongst this ruined earth. Had Toshinori managed to best him? Had the man slipped away like the snake he was to hide in the cracks and wait for his chance to strike? Groaning, Toshinori groped around the rock for his sword. He felt immense relief as soon as his fingertips brushed across its gilded surface, and strength returned to his bones as he wrapped them around its leather-lined hilt.

“Be at peace, All Might.”

Yes. All Might, that was what they called him; a paragon of strength and honor, a king among kings. Toshinori looked up, peering through the bloody tufts of blond hair falling into his eyes. Amidst the scorched earth and whirling dust began to grow a soft, pale pink light. The dust swirled away, as if so tainted by evil that it could not occupy the same space as something so pure. The light grew, and grew, and from it emerged the form of the High Priestess, her pale pink robes trailing behind her and glowing with ephemeral light.

“You are unharmed,” Toshinori breathed, his body sagging in relief. He then tensed up again as she came closer and her hazy form began to come into focus. The priestess he knew was a mature woman, tall and graceful; yet what stood before him was… a young girl, round-faced and rosy-cheeked. “Ochako…?”

“I have spent much of my magic power,” Ochako explained, then looked down, “in order to obtain this.” From within the folds of her clock came a dark tome, bound in black leather and pulsing with violet light. She had it encapsulated in a bubble of her pink magic. The black magic within the spellbook crackled like lightning, zapping each time it collided with the barrier of her white spell.

“All for One’s spellbook!”

“Yes. He has retreated within the ruins of his kingdom, but I have taken the source of his power,” Ochako said. She set the bubble aside, letting it float beside her while she kneeled before him. She reached out her hands, resting them over the gaping wound in Toshinori’s side. “For now, we have achieved victory, my young Lord Toshinori.” Light spilled from her hands, flooding into the wound. Toshinori breathed a heavy sigh of relief as a cool, soothing sensation washed over his irritated flesh. He was so euphoric from the effects of the spell that he didn’t catch it at first.

“... For now?”

“Yes,” Ochako murmured. She did not look up at him, her gaze instead trained on his grievous wound. “All for One’s malice and cunning is greater than I ever could have imagined. He has evolved beyond a mere mortal… We obliterated his body, yet he remains.”

“How is that possible?” Toshinori grunted, falling back on his behind. He stretched out his legs on either side of Ochako, relaxing as she continued to use her magic to stitch his own rent body back together. He could feel it, though; her magic lacked potency—she was weak.

“An ancient and dark magic used by evil sorcerors far before your time, servants of dark gods long sealed away. They developed a spell that could bind their life force into an object.”

Toshinori followed her gaze to the spellbook suspended within her bubble of magic. The black magic seeped out of the pages, swirling within the sphere like poisonous fog.

“His spellbook?”

“Yes. Unless it is destroyed, All for One will endure. He will bide his time, regain his strength, and unleash destruction upon our world once more.” As Toshinori reached for his greatsword, Ochako sighed. “Do not bother, Toshinori. No mere weapon of men can undo the evil that has been woven into those pages.”

“What about your magic?” Toshinori cried. “We cannot allow this to come to pass. It took all we had to defeat him this time! And I…” His voice faltered as he looked down at his side. Ochako’s gift had never been healing. “And the other Priestesses…”

“Yes,” Ochako murmured. Toshinori looked up, realizing how choked her voice seemed, just in time to see the tears drip from her tear-laden lashes. “They are gone. I am all that remains, and my magic is spent. Even I cannot destroy the book as I am now…”

“Then… is there no hope?” Toshinori whispered. His entire body went limp as the shock of it seeped in. All the effort… All of those that had perished and suffered… Would it all be in vain?

“Toshinori,” Ochako said, her tone scolding. He looked up at her to find her smirking. “Did I say that?”

“You have foreseen something?”

“Yes. We have time to prepare… Fifteen years, to be exact. The old alliances will fail, and a tremulous peace will befall the land… But All for One will be working his influence in the shadows. He will rise again.” She looked back to the spellbook. “But without his spellbook, he can never again threaten us as he has now. We have the benefit of preparation. You must find a successor worthy of wielding your great blade, your hope. When the time comes, he must gather an army unlike any this world has ever seen, and he must journey here to make our last stand. It was within the catacombs of Elmorta that this book was made, and it is only within its caverns that it can be undone. That is what I saw.”

“Do we succeed?”

“Alas, even my eyes cannot pierce a future so uncertain,” Ochako sighed, her eyes falling shut. “Even now, they grow clouded… My magic is too weak to see as I once have.” She sighed, her body slackening; her hands fell away from Toshinori’s barely-healed body. Still, he lunged forward to catch her, and was amazed to see her growing younger before his very eyes. A teenager to an adolescent to a child small enough to be cradled in his muscular arms.

“Toshinori…” Her high-pitched, sweet voice sounded so foreign to his ears, but the wisdom swirling in her deep brown eyes was more than familiar. “I must sleep. Take me back to the ruins of Uravity and place me within the crystal pool you find there. I do not know if I can regain the power necessary to contend against All for One again… But I must try. For the sake of our future, our world… and the hero yet to come.”

She yawned, and Toshinori couldn’t help but smile at how childish she looked, her eyelashes fluttering and her lips smacking. The world truly was a mysterious place. He ran a hand over her wavy tufts of silken brown hair.

“Sleep in peace, Ochako. I will watch over the world until you awaken. No matter what… this dark future will not come to pass.”

It must not… for the sake of us all.

NEXT ->

#toshinori yagi #ochako uraraka #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #mha fantasy au #bnha fantasy au

2 notes · View notes

maine-writes · 3 years ago

Text

Vonvon's Space Trip, Part 1

"So let me get this straight." Tate conveniently summarized. "You're going to the Gem Homeworld?"

The golden haired child and Vonvon were sitting at Hot 2 Tot's one of two outside tables, which was nothing more than a recycled park picnic table. A selection of the restaurant's tater tot-centric menu lay in front of them. There was a plate of the Classic Hot Tots, which were regular salted tater tots, served with the special Hot 2 Tot sauce, a slightly spicy ketchup. They were also snacking on a bowl of Taco Tots, Curry Tots, and the more recent Tatsu Tots, which were tater tots sprinkled with furikake, which was something of a mystery to Vonvon.

"Only for the weekend." Vonvon clarified.

"Who're you staying with?"

"Grandma and my aunts." They continued. "It's my first time staying with them. They're giant glowing women that once tried to destroy the world."

It took a while for Tate to unpack all of that.

'Twas a very exciting time for the Maheswaran-Universes. Both Steven and Connie were going to make contact with a lost Era 1 colony, but that also meant that they were going to be off-world over the weekend. Normally, this meant that Vonvon would stay with Connie's parents, but they were on vacation in Korea. They could've asked Greg, but he was in California for a cameo in a film about a fictional late 80's rockband; Sasha Starburst & the Binary Stars. Then there were the Gems. Unfortunately, nobody was available as they were accompanying that year's class of Little Homeschool on their annual Mask Island Retreat. except for Peridot and Lapis, who were showcasing their art in London.

Ultimately, they decided to leave Vonvon with the Diamonds, who readily offered their services as soon as they heard that the couple were in need of babysitters.

Vonvon had their trusty duffle bag, stuffed with everything they believed they'd need. Then they had a bag full of things Connie believed they'd need. And finally, there was Steven's bag.

The family was waiting on the beach when a giant, white upper torso came floating down from the upper atmosphere. Normally, the sight of a flying torso would come as a surprise to the people of Earth. But this thing has come by at least once each year, nobody really notices anymore. Except for the tourists who flock to Beach City, they always panic and flee in terror, despairing that it was the end of the world. They would always find it strange when the locals would calmly explain the situation, and the daily announces made by Mayor Fryman that urged visitors to "not panic, and pay no mind to the alien invaders" would finally make sense.

"Hello Steven! Connie!" White Diamond said as she emerged from the entryway that opened in the front of the ship. Her shining eyes then beamed down at Vonvon, who was absolutely miniscule to her.

"Oh, and Vonvon! My, have you grown."

"Mama and Papa called you last Christma." Vonvon remembered. It was a simple video call, since it would've been troublesome for the Diamonds to actually visit a cramped human neighborhood.

"Oh, of course." White Diamond continued. "And how did you like your gift? It was from myself, Blue, and Yellow."

Steven and Connie nervously glanced at one another, reminded of the contingent of Quartz soldiers the Diamonds sent to Vonvon for Christmas. They had to be sent back, since it didn't seem appropriate to give such a young child a small army.

"N-Now White..." Steven began, gently reminding her of how things have changed.

"Of course, they were volunteers." said the Diamond. "In fact, many of them were Rose Quartz soldiers who served under Pink Diamond. Remember child; conscripting Gems into an army against their will is wrong!"

"Now remember, White." Connie began. "Vonvon is human, they need food. And sleep. And air."

"Don't you worry." said White Diamond. "We have made all of the necessary preparations. Vonvon will absolutely love what we have planned."

After hugging their parents, Vonvon was led into the ship by White Diamond. As they watched their child disappear from sight and the gigantic torso began to float away, Steven and Connie couldn't help but worry, despite White Diamond's assurance.

"They'll be fine, right?" Steven wondered aloud.

"Yeah, I mean the Diamonds have been around for thousands of years and ruled dozens of planets." Connie said. "If you think about it, this might be a really cool experience for them."

"No, I mean the Diamonds." Steven clarified. "They don't really have a lot of experience taking care of humans."

"Well, the Crystal Gems basically raised you." Connie said. "And they did pretty well, right?"

As Steven thought back to his childhood, he slowly begun to realize that he might've made a terrible mistake.

@artsycooky13

#steven universe #steven universe au #the domestic au #vonvon #white diamond #the crystal gems did a good job raising steven right?#they knew what they were doing right?!#RIGHT?!#what could possibly go wrong?

9 notes · View notes

extracrispycolonelw · 4 years ago

Text

In hopes to attract some more attention to my works, I’m posting a preview of the prologue/first chapter of the 40k x RWBY crossover story I’m writing. A link to the thread on Space Battles Forum will be posted at the bottom of the thread.

Synopsis: Magnus the Red, revived and redeemed through means arcane and ill-understood, has migrated to the world of Remnant after aiding his father in breathing life into a dying empire. With his sons, he will prove himself to the galaxy and to himself, or he will perish alongside the world of Dust he has pledged his life to.

O.o.O.o.O

Beacon Academy’s library was not the most elegant structure—it did not need to be. It was pragmatic in its design, generous perhaps in its dimensions, however. Large, with open space allowing for room to grow its interior. Walls that were half-a-foot thick, comprised of materials that could resist the force of a Megaton Bomb, if it were to exist on this strange world.

Despite these shortcomings, it still managed to awe the students as they entered, immediately greeted by a gothic marvel, akin to that of an, albeit simple, large cathedral. The front doors were wide, comprised of dark, well-conditioned and well-made wood that could withstand the blast of a grenade without even a scratch, battened by flat steel reinforcements along its top and bottom sections, riveted with gold and brass. Above that door, arching up to converge at a single point from which a stone gargoyle would sit upon an arched outcropping, and above that stone guardian, was a window. Stained glass in the shape of a nigh-perfect circle, plagued by the imperfections of the tools at hand, but certainly not the craftsmanship. It was no particular depiction displayed in the colourful window, yet many students still claimed to see figures in its visage.

Upon exiting the foyer—entering deeper into the mighty library, dubbed the Magnus Librariae, the Greatest Library, this theme only continues. High ceilings are accented by light fixtures that mimic the silhouette of candles, even giving the faintest flicker every so often to perform its best imitations of a wicked stick of wax. Walls with grandiose architecture that was painted along the curved roof to depict many a battle from that Great War which ended some eighty years before. The murals and the stories told by them, however, ultimately serve little other than to add an air to the building, something it accomplished well. Students respected this place above all others—no fights broke out in its expansive interior. No rules laid out by the quaint, feeble old man that called himself the librarian, were ignored or disobeyed. Books were placed on shelves where they belonged, and they remained nearly as pristine as the day they were taken off the printing presses.

Among the many towering shelves of the Beacon Library, a single book, one with no fancy cover or elegant text upon its spine, a simplistic, yet exquisitely crafted, leather-backed tome, sat upon a shelf. This shelf contained many tomes like it, each one unique in its contents if not its cover, but this one, so simple among such elegantly, flamboyantly crafted tomes, had the luck of catching the eye of the first woman to read its contents in so very long.

Pyrrha Nikos, while not much of a scholarly type in her own right, could still appreciate a good book. A good pastime when one spent as many hours as her or her team did recovering from battle wounds or engaging in the oh so arduous and pressing task of simply finding peace. Pyrrha couldn’t quite place what had drawn her to decide to read upon the topic of history. Perhaps Oobleck’s lessons were starting to get through to her, learning of history, after all, is the best way to avoid repeating those past mistakes in the future. Perhaps it had been the simple cover of the tome, the black sheep among the flock of silver-coated, shimmering lambs. Perhaps it had simply been fate.

Pyrrha took the tome from the shelf, finding herself coughing as long-settled dust was released from its still place along the ill-searched shelf. A brush of her hand and the cover became clearer, the title in simple, bold font along the top sect of the book, not too small that one must bring it closer to properly read, yet not too large as to take up any amount of space wider than a young woman’s hand. On the dusty, sage cover of the historical text, read the title:

SORTIARIUS, THE LOST CITY OF THE SHARPENED DREAMERS.

Pyrrha hummed softly as she mulled over the title. A brief flip-through showed the book in fair condition, with very little wear on its pages from frequent readings like some of the more popular tomes, like that of the Faunus scholar Mitellus and his reflections on the prejudice of man and beast, or the influential military tomes of Taurus Rex that taught many of the young students the advanced combat techniques utilized by full-fledged Huntsmen and Huntresses, or even that of the popular comic series, Pumpkin Pete’s Bizarre Adventure. This one was different, different enough to warrant being tucked under Pyrrha’s arm, against the bronzed cuirass of her outfit alongside the dozen other thick books already waiting, yet still a black sheep among a sea of ebon wool in comparison to the rest.

The shelves of the library were not only tall—dwarfing Pyrrha like a grown adult man to a toddler and then some—but they were dense. Sound had issues fully traveling in some places, especially the historical literature sections and discerning one’s location had become such a crisis that electronic signs would be mounted along the narrow of the shelves in order to direct students to where they wished to go. Even such a knowledgeable woman like Pyrrha found herself using the screens to get back to the main foyer of the library, the notorious two-floored, incredibly simplistic in comparison, warmly-lit main area where students gathered at tables to study and where the more commonly-read tombs were positioned on significantly smaller shelves than their taller, broader cousins in the deep of the library.

Soon enough however, the crimson-haired girl found herself weaving out from the shelves of the library and toward the wooded balcony overlooking the humble librarian’s station, situated cozily against the wall, alongside the main tables, where she would find her friends of Ruby and her wonderful team, alongside her beloved comrades in Team JNPR. Pyrrha quickened her pace, quietly speed-walking down a stairwell off to the right before emerging from past a column which supported the stairs she’d mantled. Ruby was the first to spot her, waving frantically to Pyrrha before the rest of her friends did the same, happy to see their friend alive and in one piece after her oh-so-brave venture into the heart of the library of Beacon, plentifully notorious for having many a student get lost in its winding halls for days on end before being found.

“Pyrrha! We thought you got lost,” Jaune said to his teammate with a smile as he turned to greet her, his blonde mop of hair obscuring the upper parts of his eyes as he shifted. Nora quickly bounced up from her seat like a helium-infused rocket and hugged her dear red-headed friend.

“Haha! I’m glad to see you’re safe—and not just because Ruby and I had a bet over whether you would get lost in the library,” Nora rambled as she embraced her friend, the raven-haired tiny reaper seething quietly at her seat with a hint of amusement drawing at the corners of her lips. Pyrrha allowed herself to giggle a bit at the antics of her friends before sliding into one of the wooden chairs beside Jaune, books neatly taken from the crook of her arm and stacked atop one another. Her eyes drifted curiously down to the sage-backed book at the top, the tale of the Lost City, a story of which she was endlessly curious about now. Not once in any of her history lessons, from the youngest of ages to now, had she even been vaguely made aware of this city, this Sortiarius. It baffled her mind and tempted her as her fingers graced the ribbed spine before gently taking it into her right hand, pushing softly the heavy stack of tomes off to the side in order to make room for the one which now held her full attention. Flipping it open to the front page, she was met with the author’s name and the opening words. She read the words in her mind after taking a deep breath.

‘It is in this tome that I, Helio Kalliston, noble orator of the final dynasty of the Redguard Guild of Serfs and Peasants, enclose the fullest history of the noble city of Sortiarius, from its earliest days as a result of colonization turned to migration by the various nations of the time, to its final days, collapsing at the hand of the damned Grimm…’

Pyrrha was quickly sucked into the elegant words of Helio Kalliston. He described a city borne from the ashes of apocalypse at the hands of Grimm, forged by the ancient and venerable Crimson King, a towering giant of a man who wielded the very weather in his own hands as he led his people from all the way in Solitas as the tyrant-kings rose to power, all the way across the ocean and through many villages, saving those they could from the rampaging hordes of Grimm that followed the melancholic band of knights that followed the King, whose powers were legend among the descendants of the Sortiarians. One story described a knight in full plate that carried the very hand of the righteous God of the Sun along his right arm, melting Grimm with beams of glowering orange heat, whilst the snarling, hateful axe of the God of the Underworld was clasped in his left, using these weapons to strike down any, man, woman or Grimm that dared stand in the way of him and his King. The legends enraptured Pyrrha like few things had done before—the harrowing tales of a city being forged from the fires of a Grimm-infested forest filled her with excitement, whilst the tales of the many dynasties of the philosopher-kings thrilled her, before saddening her upon their deaths upon the eve of long-gone centuries past. Pyrrha had no concept of how much time had passed as she fingered through the pages of the historical literature, allowing the outside world to bleed away until it was only her and the fated words of Helio Kalliston, the final orator of Sortiarius and its dynasties before the city’s destruction, described in the final words of the tome, written in by a second writer who included what Helio could not in the final manuscript. To think that any of this could have possibly been true, even if exaggerated, amazed Pyrrha. She lamented thoroughly how dozens of other records were used to cross-reference and act as intellectual sources for the knowledge of the tome and, though it was long, it seemed almost hollow. Reading the ending sentiments at the back revealed to her the unfortunate truth—that the tome was meant as the summary to a longer line of historical records which would cover in detail the many aspects of life in Sortiarius, from the socio-political battlegrounds to the innerworkings of the nigh mystical Redguard, the angelic warriors who defended the city to the last man, woman and child, the incorruptible few among the fallible many. How she would love to sink into the past and simply see what it may have been… however her fantasies were cut short by a nudge from Jaune. Promptly looking up, Pyrrha found the eyes of their table entirely on her. Cheeks flushed and quietly turning to Jaune for an answer, she sputtered out an embarrassed excuse to her silence.

“I-I’m sorry, I was so enraptured in my reading I didn’t even hear you if you were speaking to me.” Jaune smiled and nodded in understanding.

“I know the feeling. Those Pumpkin Pete graphic novels always have me glued to my seat!” The wholesome smile on their naïve leader’s face was something to be appreciated when it showed, Pyrrha had learn to do as the naivety—or perhaps innocence—of Jaune was enough to bring joy to both their teams in ways that would become scarce in their later years. This moment was no exception, giggles spreading across the table before Pyrrha responded.

“Well… While I can say that I’ve read those, albeit for a children’s charity some time ago… this book is one I don’t think I’ve ever heard of,” Pyrrha spoke with curiosity mixed into her tone, bringing forth that same emotion from her fellows.

“That’s so weird! You’re like one of the biggest bookworms I know, how have you not read this one?” Nora asked loudly as she came in close to her Mistralian comrade, the girl rocking backward to compensate for the distance lost between them.

“Well… I don’t know. It was in the historical section in the deeper parts of the library. It talks about an ancient civilization that was around before any of the four kingdoms, called Sortiarius.” Pyrrha explained the book in simpler terms to her younger and more… immature friends.

“It was this city that existed, well, we don’t know how long ago, but the footnotes suggest thousands of years ago! They were a kingdom, well, closer to a city-state, but they were a big one. Their government was a complex bureaucracy guided by mentor-figures called ‘The Philosopher Kings’ who ruled over the city. According to this book, they had mastered the art of using the soul as a tool that they could perform minor acts of what they considered sorcery. Although, I’m not so sure if that last part is real… ultimately it wouldn’t matter all that much, their city fell to the Grimm and internal strife long before even Vale was around,” Pyrrha explained to the best of her ability. While it wasn’t difficult in by any definition of the word, it certainly wasn’t simple by any means either. She had barely gotten through the first three chapters and it had been at least an hour. She let out a minor huff of irritation as she stared down at the book—as interesting as it was, she didn’t have the free time in any week to reliably put in enough time to read and retain whatever information could be gleamed from the book. However, judging by how the weapons were described in those opening three chapters, she had a fair idea of who might find better use of the book.

Pyrrha Nikos flipped the book shut and stretched out her arms before turning her gaze to the young, raven-haired red reaper.

“Ruby, you love weapons… you should read this. The Redguard—the city’s defense force, huntsmen of the time, they used some of the most advanced-sounding weapons I’ve read about, guns that fired some sort of energy and something called a ‘chainsword,’ among other things.” She placed her hands over the book and thumbed the cover as she asked, admiring the simplicity in the design for a moment before her eyes caught Ruby’s own orbs turning to saucers.

“Chainsword? As in a chainsaw-sword? Guns?! What kind of guns?! Sniper rifles? Shotguns? Pistols? Automatic weapons?! I demand to know moooore!” Ruby all-but belly-flopped onto the table as she got close to Pyrrha and the precious book, hands reaching out to snatch it, though the fiery-haired champion tugged the ancient tome back before her young friend could snag it.

“This book is very old, Ruby, be careful with it.” She was prepared to lecture the girl slightly, though feeling that was more the white-haired ice queen’s—as the rowdier students had nicknamed her, rather rudely—job than hers. The pouty face given by Ruby had not helped much either.

“I will! I promise,” Ruby said softly upon Pyrrha bringing the book closer. The younger girl took the tome in her hands for a moment and did the same as her compatriot—just finding a moment to admire the simple design, where so many others were elegant, vain and loud, this one was… humble. Quiet, soft-spoken. It knew that what it contained was worthy of her eyes, it was confident to such a degree that it did not need such a vain and flashy cover. A simple, leather, sage-green cover with neat, lightly-coloured, tall and bold font to display its title and the purpose of the tome. Something about it relieved Ruby’s mind as she took the book and scooted back into her seat. She slipped it into her bag after a moment of contemplation longer and refocused herself on studying.

Some hours had gone by, studying, socializing, and doing the part of students as best as could be expected of them. Eventually the sun grew tired and dipped below the horizon, allowing for the fractured moon of Remnant to rise in its place. The students, having spent their day studying, were unified with the sun in their exhaustion. So, after a long day of studying, the two teams separated from one another, said their goodbyes, and retired to their dorms. Whilst most members of the teams were quick to lay their heads to sleep, there was one outlier among them.

Through the darkest hours of the night and to the early morning of the next day, Ruby sat at her desk and poured over the tome. Vast in density with its glorious renditions of battles between the mystical Redguard, towering giants that were rumoured to be ancient half-automata half-man, and the darkest and most formidable forms of Grimm that Ruby had ever seen depicted. Real or not, the images were nice to look at and that was where most of her time was spent, for despite the thickness of the tome, it still bore little content. Pyrrha’s assessment of the book had proved painfully correct, as it referred to so many dozens of other books that were likely long gone.

Her hunger for knowledge, always satiable, overwhelmed the young raven-haired reaper and she found herself redressed and quietly sneaking off to the library in those dark hours of the early morning. As she came to those huge oaken doors, Ruby paused.

Would the doors be locked? Would this all have been for naught? No, she would get her answers. Did that mean breaking in? Or did that mean waiting till morning? There were classes and countless trainings the next day, she wouldn’t get a chance like this again. But what if she was caught?

Her endless tirade of paranoid thoughts was stopped when the doors slowly creaked open, startling the girl as the humble librarian quietly pulled the door open and stared at her. He was hunchbacked ever slightly, wearing a brown robe that enclosed a thin body, while frail, had once been muscular and built like brick and steel. His face was wide, likely statuesque in his youth, but years fighting had scarred his face and old age wrinkled the once handsome features.

“You should be in bed, young one,” he greeted quietly after a brief staring contest that might have lasted a few seconds too long.

“I-I know, but I read this book and I just wanted to know more-!” Ruby began to explain in a lapse of mild panic, only for the librarian to raise a hand to silence her as he spotted the ancient tome in her hands.

“I am not one to judge the practices of those seeking knowledge… Gods know that would make me a hypocrite,” he opened the door fully and beckoned the young Ruby Rose in. The library was quietly lit by golden candlelight, the dim flickering shading the librarian’s face in soft yellows and oranges, highlighting the scars along his left cheek, burns, cuts, gauges in the wrinkled flesh. It intimidated the girl a moment, but the knowing smile invited her into the expansive library, and she took the offer gladly, clutching the sage-backed tome in her arms as she entered Beacon Library, the door closing behind her softly.

Soon, Ruby was sitting with a small stack of disappointingly thin tomes that could barely equate to the width of the historical, sage-backed volume, but it was enlightening, nonetheless. A cup of steaming tea sat at the opposite side to the books, on a ceramic saucer. Across from her, sat the librarian, pouring over a quiet-looking book. She shifted in her seat for a moment and waited to see the reaction from the old man across from her. When none came, she sat her head on her hands and sighed exaggeratedly. No response. The young reaper wriggled in her chair for a while before she couldn’t take the silence anymore without books to pour over.

“I still can’t believe that this place used to exist,” Ruby blurted. The librarian peeked up from the book he was reading, raising an eyebrow curiously.

“You’re unsure of the truth,” the librarian spoke softly as he closed his book, sliding it to his left. Ruby hesitantly nodded.

“The way they describe the weapons and these drawings, they just seem… unreal. Like something out of a fantasy book. They said the one captain, Hastar H’Kett, he had a weapon that was like… some kind of lance of orange light and all the pictures show him doing all this crazy stuff—it just… it feels more like a legend than ancient history, y’know?” Ruby ranted rapidly, red-faced and rosy as the old librarian stared at her with an amused expression gracing his features. He folded his hands together and sat them in front of him as he began.

“Well, I can assure you. This,” he pointed to the book, tapping its cover with his index finger, “it is our history. Remnant’s history. Some of those images were… exaggerated, but I can tell you that they very much had weapons like how those flowery words describe.” He grinned as Ruby became bemused at first, her forehead scrunching as her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes darted back and forth in thought.

“It… they’re not lances. They’re guns. But… how could that be possible!?! No Dust weapons could even accomplish stuff like this even now!” Ruby asked incredulously. In return, the humble librarian laughed softly, tapping a hand gently to the table, understating what would be a symbol of exaggerated laughter. Perhaps it was a sign of his age catching up with him, making him more soft-spoken. Perhaps it was simply an action to be amusing to the young student, a goal he readily achieved as Ruby tittered at his antics, something that brought a smile to his aged facial features.

“Well, I can at least tell you a story. Something passed down in my family… it all began in those olden days when most men fought with spears, swords and axes. Not the Sortiarites, they used majestic automata and weapons the like of which would never be known again…”

O.o.O.o.O

SB Forums thread:

#fanfic #warhamer 40000 #rwby fanfiction #rwby #scifi #writing #warhammer 40k #40k #fantasy #crossover #RWBYx40k #Magnus the red #thousand sons

11 notes · View notes

little-red-rabbit · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! I’ve seen you talking about Floramore before and it’s really cool! I saw you mention some other fan planes too on a fanwalker list but I haven’t heard much about them. What are some of your other fan planes and what are they like?

You Anon are my new favorite person! 😍

I love to world build it is both a hobby and a way for me to calm my mind when it becomes overwhelmed with thoughts. With the world of magic the gathering has beening very fertile ground for my created endeavors.

Firstly we have the plane of Highverta a large plane with many landmasses and an overabundance of natural resources. We are talking mountain ranges of marble, deserts that glitter with gem dust, and forests with gilded leaves from how much gold is in the soil. As such the plane has developed a complex bartering system as there is nothing rare enough to act as currency. This is also a plane with a strong focus on the arts, as even the poorest of commoners can go out and gather the material needed for artistic expression.

Though not everyone see this dedication to art as a positive. The elven tribes of the H'gar Groves see such self indulgent decadence as distraction from ones duties and a insult to the majesty of nature.

Next we have Crusabella a plane locked in a eternal struggle with the parasitic plane of Dismorat for the souls of it's people. With the church of the four flocks being the beacon against this darkness. Rooting out demons and their corrupting cults and ensuring that the spirits of the people find their way to the arms of the angels. Who themselves serve the church seeking redemption for falling to wickedness long ago.

While the church holds ultimate authority it interest are more spiritual in nature, so the day to day running of the plane falls to wealthy merchant families. Who often engage in disputes over land and trading rights. Hiring well trained mercenary companies to settle their grievances with one another, in mock battles.

Dismorta was once a plane like any other until is was visited by a mysterious man in red. Who preyed upon fears and vanities of seven of the planes most powerful individuals, until they succumbed to his corruption. This corruption then spreading to the plane itself until it was a twisted mockery of what it once was. Now ruled by seven dark princes who drew power from the torment of the souls of those who once lived upon Dismorta.

One of the princes seeking even more souls and even grate power unmoored Dismorta from it's place in the Blind Eternities. Such a feat leaving him weakened and his fellow princes took advantage of his state. Casting him out just as Dismorta crashed into Crusabella. Jungalla is a ancient plane almost as old as Dominaria, and covered almost completely with lush rainforests. It vast jungles are teaming with carnivorous planes, chimera like animals, and the ruins of countless kingdoms and cities that have risen only to be reclaimed by the jungle. It is a plane ruled by the beast men who worship their great mother goddess.

The very soul of Jungalla itself who manifests avatars of great beasts, incarnations of the weather and even mortal born demigods. Two such demigods have founded the great city of Harva'parva. The city that spans both banks of the river Bö was built to honor the great mother and her many children. Though the shadow of ruin has taken noticed of the great city and soon the rakshasa queen will see it reduced to ruin, like all the ones before it. Next is my newest plane Golgarthum, a plane born upon the back of a great decease beast the slowly drifts through the multiverse. The insects, oozes and fungi that make their home there, where once little more then the implements of decomposition. But feeding on the mana rich flesh of the beast, changed them into something more.

They have terrace farms of crops found nowhere else in the multiverse, nestled along the beasts rocked scales. Flowers the sized of redwoods bloom above fugle forests, where sweet nectar his harvested. Even a sweet water lake, formed with the help of a old walker, where gnat fish and tick crabs are grown.

They even create imitation of creatures they hear about from planeswalkers who visit the plane. Mushroom pigs and ooze hydras the inhabitance refer to as oddities.

Lastly I have the plane of Loch'tamor which a good friend of mine @im-your-paladin has a planeswalker from!

Like Ixalan, Loch'tamor shares it's name with a geographical location on the plane. In this case a massive lake where all of the planes leylines meet. It is as dark as deep as any sea and great power bubbles in that darkness. A wizard once tried to access that power and it raged beyond his control, cascading across the land as a mighty storm.

From this storm of roiling mana was birthed angels, elves and all manner of beasts, but none more feared then the elder dragons of ruin. Who laid waste the kingdoms of old tell not but stories remained of them. And lo the world would have gone to the dragon if not for one brave knight, so sealed them beneath the earth with the legendary sword Dragonsrend.

Now the dust has settled and new powers have risen to fill the void of the old. The forest courts of the light and shadow elves, the highland clans of cat giants and the kingdom of the bright isles.

#thank you so much for the ask #I always encourage people to interact with my ocs or planes #if you have a idea or question about them let me know #if anyone want to make a walker for one of my planes I'm up for that as well #mtg #magic the gathering #fan content #fan plane #fan walker #fan planeswalker #fanwalker

4 notes · View notes

theramseyloft · 5 years ago

Note

hello! im looking into buying pigeons as pets, I have experience with keeping pet birds but I want to get more specific knowledge on pigeons, how would you house them and what social grouping is best for them? and is it best to get younger pigeons if you want them to be more tame?

Pigeons require that you forget pretty much everything you know about any other species of pet bird.

The only thing they have in common is feathers and hollow bones.

Physical needs are dirt simple to meet.

Pigeons are strict granivores.

They are not capable of digesting anything other than embryonic plant issue.

Once the plant sprouts, they can no longer process it.

So no sprouts, no fruit, no veggies, no leaves, no roots, no stems, no tubers, NOTHING BUT SEEDS!!!!

They do not have the internal organs required to process cellulose.

I’m really sorry to hammer it in like that, but so many people going from pretty much any other species of bird to pigeons make really dangerous mistakes by using the nutritional and habitat rules for their other birds as the base line.

Even vets do this more often than not, because every one’s base line for Companion bird is parrot.

SO many people advocate that pigeons be forced to eat fruits and veggies as if they were parrots.

Their owners, who trust this wide spread misinformation and are only doing what their vet tells them, end up worried that their pigeons are not getting the right blend of nutrients when they refuse those things that are NOT food for them.

To make the birds eat “enough” veggies, their owners are advised to restrict their seed intake, because “seeds should just be treats for birds, not a dietary staple, or they’ll die of fatty liver disease.”

In the specific cases of Pigeons (Columba livia) and Ringneck Doves (Streptopelia risoria), the poor birds are accidentally starved on a full stomach by people who “Have bird experience” and are genuinely doing their best to take the best care of their pigeon, going by what they already know from other species, encouraged by the advice of their vet.

Please, do not do this to your Columbidae.

Give them a wide variety of seeds, black oil sunflower sized or smaller, that include grains and legumes.

Dried split green peas and lentils are good legumes to supplement a widely varied seed mix.

Unpopped popping corn is a pleasant treat for many.

Safflower seeds are irresistible training treats to most.

The columbidae do not hull their seeds. They swallow them whole, shell and all, and are dependent on the shells for dietary fiber.

So avoid hulled blends advertised as “mess free.”

Pretty much all commercially available cage for birds are built to display sitting parrots, or contain a little flock of finches.

Pigeons are primarily ground foragers that are not physically capable of climbing, but nest on cliffs.

They need more floor space than height, and flat perches because round ones hurt their feet.

Perches need to have at least a full body length between them, so if there is not space for that, only have one perch in the enclosure.

A training crate for a Labrador sized dog is plenty of space for most breeds of average (about homer) size or smaller.

Larger, taller, or longer winged breeds like Giant Homers, Utility Kings, Voorburg Shield Croppers, Frillbacks, Lagore, and a few others will need a kennel built for Great Danes

The perches in the photo above are modified Garden Stakes (Nearly always square and wooden) cut to legth.

The nest boxes are bunny/ferret corner litter boxes filled with straw.

If you are planning to have a few as pets, rather than a breeding loft, they do best if you think of caging like you would crating a dog:

The crate is not intended to be where the dog lives full time.

It’s where the dog sleeps or waits out the time you are away or otherwise unavailable to supervise out time; while they are still learning the house rules.

When you are home, the dog is let out, and you alternately praise or reprimand them depending on how they interact with your things.

The end goal is for the dog to free roam the house full time, knowing what they are not allowed to mess with, what they are allowed to interact with, and how they are allowed to interact with the things they are allowed to interact with.

Pigeons are exactly as capable of learning house rules, and can get to a point where they are trust worthy free roaming either full time, or during the day.

It’s useful to think of free roam training like you would with a dog or cat, but pigeons have the intelligence of a five year old human child, and a social structure that legitimately can be called a society and is strikingly similar to a close knit extended family of humans.

Pigeons are intensely social.

They don’t just breed in colonies.

They live in colonies year round that forage cooperatively.

They have a crazy efficient chain of command.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/06/150609213053.htm

Whose leaders earn their following by proven merit

https://www.audubon.org/news/in-homing-pigeon-flocks-bad-bosses-quickly-get-demoted

Every flight capable individual has a vote in what the flock does when they leave the home loft.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2010/04/100416214045.htm

It is not an exaggeration to call a pigeon flock a democratic meritocracy.

And because of that, Pigeons innately expect not just to have a voice in the social group they are part of, but to be aware of that voice being ignored.

Pigeons are incredibly vocally and behaviorally communicative.

This study of sea birds proves that at least some birds are capable of communication through the shells of their eggs.

https://www.mnn.com/earth-matters/animals/stories/baby-birds-communicate-eggs-hatch?fbclid=IwAR39CYrHAfFM6nAP8Rq3TvOox1p5vcb3Z87xqjPoiYNCwMoRvuQaWCeSFjs

Though there have not been pigeon specific studies done, I have noticed babies hatching with more obvious anxiety during stressful periods for the loft, so I have reason to believe that parents communicate with unhatched chicks, and unhatched chicks can communicate with eachother.

Pigeons have higher level cognition.

They share come cognitive traits with baboons

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/02/090212141143.htm

But they share a shocking number of cognitive traits with humans!

Brain wiring, for example.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/07/130717095336.htm

Facial recognition

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2011/04/110411171847.htm

Complex categoroization

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/04/140402095107.htm

They are one of the very few animals (Including corvids, but excluding most parrot species) that are self aware enough to recognize themselves not just in mirrors, but in videos, even with a delay.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2008/06/080613145535.htm

They can even learn the equivalent of words by the same mechanic as human toddlers.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2015/02/150204184447.htm

This study is the basis of a communication study I have been doing with our birds for almost two years now.

Earlier, I talked about flocks being democratic meritocracies, and how aware pigeons innately are of their vote being ignored.

The more ignored a pigeon feels, the less cooperative they are inclined to be.

But the more they understand of the world around them and how their behavior effects it, the faster they learn which of their behaviors effect what and how to change their behavior to effect changes they want.

By verbally talking them through everything in the simple, clear way that you would for a toddler who has not yet picked up many words for things, you can teach a pigeon to understand your verbal communication.

With a bit of patience, you can also forge those associations using written words. Pigeons have proven capable of learning the difference between acronyms and actual words.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2016/09/160919111535.htm

They have also proven to understand abstracts like space and time

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2017/12/171204144805.htm

Pigeons risk/reward evaluation is even strikingly similar to ours, compelling them to gamble on a bigger reward, once they have experienced the possibility of receiving one, than to stick to the guarantee of a consistent, but small pay out.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2014/08/140827092105.htm

Building a trusting relationship with a pigeon is more like adopting a tiny, nonverbal human toddler who can fly than training any other type of domestic pet.

It’s easier for a younger bird to learn than an adult, because a younger bird has less ingrained behaviors that they need your help to unlearn, but with patience, any pigeon of any age can build a close relationship with you on the dual basis of trust and communication.

I have lots of asks about training that go into more detail.

Try searching the terms Training, Socialization, Bonding, and Friends.

I don’t have the option to tag asks. I have to go back and edit them after I have posted them in order to add a tag, and I often forget.

Especially when I have a long backlog!

For reference, t time of writing, I have 21 asks waiting to be answered.

149 notes · View notes

dacreshoney · 4 years ago

Text

vikings series 1 part 1

so this will be the first part of the vikings series list I am creating, I will go into a little summery about the character in which will have a name but I can also include Y/N imagines /alongisdebeside the characters name.

warning: introduction, may be some swearing

(I do not own images/gifs or condone any violent behaviours)

intro more than anything this part

800 A.D

summary: you are the Norse goddess Freya the daughter of the Great Norse god Njord of the wind wand waters and sister to Freyr/Yngvi the god of peace, fertility and rain. Freyja is the goddess of love, warfare, sex, fertility, death, beauty, magic, and witchcraft which has brought you many troubles in your life, you took form as your human self and lived among humans in which your father did not approve. You set your sights on Scandinavia, on a certain family, the Lothbrok family, you had foreseen in a vision with Frigg that this family would need your help in either saving the world or destroying it. You had grew close to Ragnar in his younger days, even his wife Lagertha adored you along with his brother Rollo, though it never took them long to believe you were the goddess freya. You would often come and go from their lives, watching over them. You made it clear you could not stay long, you overdid that already. your place was in Asgard, that was until you saw another fate beside the one where you would protect the lothbrok’s, this one would tie your destiny with one of Ragnar Lothbrok’s children, Ivar the Boneless. You were to be his saviour or you would join him on his bloody reign. Only time and the gods would tell what both of your fates would be.

freya art: below

series 1 part one: an old and dear friend.

you had foreseen another vision, you practiced magic and witchcraft often with Frigg, who was depicted as a Volva/seidr as well as yourself, this time the vision was dark and empty. Something was wrong, you felt desolate. The vision had foretold that Ragnar Lothbrok was dying o the would die by the hands of someone close to him, Frigg had foresaw a vision with his wife Aslaug plotting behind Ragnar's back with the seidr in Kattegat.

“she plots, she wonders if there will ever be a woman ruler of Kattegat” Frigg implied, her hands over your Brisingamen necklace and a golden cauldron, your blood boils at the thought of Aslaug betraying someone you love so dearly, how could she turn her back on him after everything he has done for her you thought to yourself.

“how dare she, she will never rule over Kattegat, over my dead body will I ever let her get her hands on everything Ragnar has achieved” you raised your voice in anger, turning harshly on your heal to look over at the rainbow bridge of Asgard, placing your hands on the railings, grasping so tightly you could easily break them. Frigg walked over to you, placing her hand on your shoulder, her fair touch easing you ever so slightly as she turned you to face her she spoke softly, “ there will be a woman rule one day over Kattegat, but it won't be Aslaug, that you will have to wait and see my dear one”

“ I don’t see your fascination in these viking mutts freya, surely you could just kill them all and all your sorrows would be dealt with, or I could help you slaughter them all” Tyr followed, laughing, he was the god of war and a halfwit at that, he had no emotion or care for anyone other than himself. you edged away from Frigg aiming your sights at Tyr, raising your fist to grab his throat. “one more word from you tyr and I'm shoving the seat golden spear of your up your giant a ss ho...” Frigg interrupted, “now freya, now is not the time, you know where you need to go”

You knew what you had to do, it was time to go back to Kattegat, a place you said to yourself you would never go back to, you told yourself you would watch and protect from afar to abide by your fathers rules and to conceal your feelings deep inside. But there was always something that would draw you back, back to them. you nodded your head to Frigg and a beam of light shown around your whole body as you teleported to Kattegat.

As you overlooked on top of the snowy mountains of Kattegat, taking in that icy fresh air you so missed into your lungs, you set your sights on the great hall of Kattegat in the far distance. Using your sight see what was going off and where everyone was, but Ragnar was not there. Then you spotted Björn, a man now, tying your dearest Floki to a wooden pole. Speeding down to the front of the harbour at 100 miles an hour, you headed to the flock of people surrounding the Floki, throwing rocks at him. You made your way through the crowd, barging your way to the front, picking up a rock fro the floor, your eyes catching Floki and Björn’s who stood their in shock as you spoke jokingly,

“my dear Floki, what have you done now” you teased, playing with the dirty rock in your hand as Björn walked your way, embracing you in a hug, shooing off the crowd of people. “freya, my god, how I've missed you” Bjorn laughed as his arms wrapped themselves around you, then turning round to Floki, “and him, your dear friend has murdered a christian man out of malice” you laughed at Bjorn as you went to unchain Floki and spoke “a christian man I say, surely you could of dealt with this privately Bjorn, what would your mother say” you winked , helping Floki out of his chains as he embraced you also.

“my mother, would be proud of me, for being a man” Bjorn answered back

“there are other ways to prove your a man bjorn and what would you father say, hmm, did he approve of this?” you questioned, walking towards Bjorn, heading towards the great hall.

“no, he does not know, but I do not need my fathers approval freya” Bjorn spouted off in a huff as he followed you.

You continued to laugh at Bjorn, making a joke out of the situation. Heading into the great hall, everyones eyes turned to you, pacing their eyes up and down at your beauty, Aslaug forcing a smile on her face at your presence, beside her 4 boys you had not seen before in person, but visions. Bjorn was about to speak up and announce your name, but you stopped him, one rule in Asgard was to not let your presence know so often, in which you had already broken that rule a long time ago, you preferred to keep it on the download this time. your gorgeous strawberry blonde locks blustering softly in the winter winds at the doors as you entered, those piercing golden eyes scouring the room, until you found those beautiful blue eyes of a man, well a man to you, a cripple to others, you locked his eyes as he crawled beside his mother Aslaug, mesmerised by your beauty. Bjorn, Floki and yourself headed towards where aslaug was sat on her thrown, you tried to keep your anger inside after foreseeing her thoughts. You stood proudly informant of her, your posture proud. At least you both could agree on something, you both were not happy to see each other in the slightest.

“Aslaug.. pleasure to see you again, and with sons, Ragnar must be so proud and.. happy, where is he may I ask” you spoke plainly, still never leaving her gaze, placing yourself on another seat beside Bjorn and Floki. She sneaked at you, knowing you'd know exactly what she was thinking, she tried her best to block you out, it never worked.

“pleasures mine, freya.. and yes, he is proud, legitimate male heirs to the Lothbrok throne.. and as for Ragnar he is out, I'm sorry you missed him” she said sarcastically, digging at Bjorn and yourself. The other sons of Ragnar, questioning who this freya was, eyeing up each other still, looking for answers from their mothers face, Ivar’s sky blue eyes still never leaving your face.

“no matter, I am here to stay for a while, I hope you don’t mind, myself and Ragnar have some things to attend to, I am sure you won't keep him from me for too long” you forced a smile, aiming for a reaction, she was good. Before she could answer, a familiar step headed towards you, you could smell his scent from miles away, that familiar scent you familiarised with home and family.

“hello old friend, been a while” Ragnar spoke happily as you turned to face him, eyes beaming with joy to see him okay and alive, you embraced each other, aslaug jealousy was very much on show for everyone to see.

#vikings imagine #intro #vikings #ragnar #new imagines blog

32 notes · View notes