#towards other world powers with proper armies

[dragons-clause]

The Dragon's Clause

Sabo x Fem Reader

CW: Forced marriage, intrigue, character death, fantasy violence, blood, magic, language, smut, 18+ mdni

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @manachiichan @sleepykittycx

Chapter 20: Engagement Party

The last few pins and accessories were put into place and you took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror. It was less that you were concerned about your appearance, and more that you wanted to appreciate Koala’s, and the small army of maids who helped her, efforts in making sure you were flawless for the evening.

Deep blues shifted seamlessly into aquatic greens and back. While the primary color was blue, the green shimmered through the dress enough to catch the eye. The melding of the academy and the Duke’s own colors. Accented in silver, with blue-green gems highlighting the filigree swirls of your jewelry.

Things you were wearing easily thanks to Marco’s arrival not two days after the explosive incident.

As expected, Sabo didn’t send his desk away, and instead stayed in the small infirmary space with you and Luffy for the two days before Marco’s arrival. The man’s arrival was impressive enough, as he’d flown from the warp gate. 

Flying was rare in this world, even with the capacities of magic, and Marco transformed into a massive bird of gold and teal fire in order to do so. It was not a subtle means of transportation.

The man himself was not subtle either.

Tall and confident, he wasted neither words nor actions. He wasn’t rude or haughty about it, but efficiency was a point of pride, as far as you could tell. He introduced himself to you even after being greeted by Ace, and when all three young men had pointed to you, he hadn’t even stepped toward Luffy, despite the young prince being more visibly injured.

“Marco the phoenix,” he had introduced himself with a short bow. “Marco is sufficient. I heal through flames, so please don’t be alarmed, Miss-?”

“A’tana Écaille de Lulusia, but you may call me Lady Lu.” You answered, sitting up on the edge of the bed as he had helped you move.

Beautiful teal flames, edged in gold, licked around his fingers. He barely even set his hand against yours and you could feel the warmth sinking into your body. It took two days for his particular power to heal you completely, and Prince Luffy took two more days beyond you. He was only just cleared to spar the day before the banquet.

As Marco had explained it, his magic mixed with the magic of others, and then relied heavily on their own stamina to aid with healing. In this way he wasn’t nearly as effective as a proper Saint or Healer, but he was a step above most physicians.

He had also been a boon to the reconstruction efforts, utilizing both his unique skill and strong magic to bolster those working on the clean up.

The most time you spent with him was during meals, but Ace, Sabo and Luffy all spoke highly of him at nearly every opportunity. Considering the opinion you had of them, it made Marco a respectable and trustworthy person in your estimation, despite not getting much time to sit and talk with him directly.

Koala escorted you to the hall, and Sabo was waiting outside for you. The banquet was just barely beginning, and most all of the guests had arrived. You and Sabo would, officially, enter last. The only people who would be announced after your arrival would be anyone who out ranked the Duke.

Sabo’s suit was a matching inverse of yours. Mostly white and silver, it was accented in the same deep blue and shifting greens of your gown. The styles were similar, paying homage to the Academy while also incorporating Goa styles - at least that was the official statement on the matter. The style was more a nod to the Academy than not, and what style finished it after that was the Dawn Kingdom.

But not many in attendance would notice, and those that might wouldn’t be likely to point it out either. Lest they wanted to test the waters of the Duke’s patience while a guest in his house.

“You look,” Sabo’s words halt, and you can see pink dust his cheeks. “Beautiful, my Lady.”

Smiling, you accept the arm he offers. “And you are ever the most handsome noble I’ve met, your grace.”

Sabo smiles. “You’ve still not yet met many nobles.” He teases.

“Then, will you ask me after tonight?” You prompt, glancing up at him coyly before turning your attention to the doors before you both.

“If you so wish it of me, certainly.” He replies, and you can hear the smile on his lips, and feel the nervous flex of his arm beneath your fingers. “Shall we?”

"Yes, lets.”

Stepping forward with Sabo, the doors are opened. The announcer speaks out over the crowd that has gathered.

“The Grand Duke Sabo Eldgard de Goa, and the Lady A’tana Écaille de Lulusia!”

You knew that most all of Goa had been invited to the engagement party, and that a large number of people from outside the country had also been invited. You had never had a coming of age party, or a débutante ball. You were the child of a powerless royal, whose only worth had been in your blood, and only while your father lived.

This was the first time you had seen so many affluent people.

This was the first time so many affluent people had seen you.

The general hush that had fallen over everyone gathered was a weight you hadn’t expected to sit so heavily on your shoulders. You kept your expression as neutral as you could, erring a little on the side of the occasional soft smile when someone’s gaze met yours as your eyes scanned the crowd. You weren’t surprised to see Ace and Luffy at the back of the room, the young prince waving at you with one arm as he ate his fill.

You had an entire extra banquet table set up to satisfy Luffy alone, and Ace was keeping just enough of an eye on him to make sure he didn’t stray too far from it.

When you near the bottom of the staircase, Marco steps out from the crowd. He’s dressed in pastel teals and golds, his hair swept loosely off to the side, gathered with a matching ribbon. As understated as it was, you keep expecting him to burst into his signature flames, the light of the hall dancing off his suit as though it meant to catch fire at any moment.

“It is my honor to greet the Duke and his fiancé,” he says with a bow. You can already hear the murmurs of the people gathered. Whispers of him being the Phoenix are already moving through the crowd. “Allow me to be the first to officially wish you both well.”

“Thank you, sir.” Sabo replies, inclining his head. 

“For everything.” You add, also inclining your head. As difficult as it was, Sabo and Koala had impressed upon you for days that the only persons you would bow to during the ball were Sterry and Sabo’s parents. As his fiancé, and as the others were guests, you were not required to bow to anyone else.

Showing equal deference to everyone would give you less to worry about as you greeted a long list of people.

Marco had offered to break the ice, in place of Ace, who was going to need to try and keep a lower profile anyway. The two kingdoms were at peace, but there were rumors that Sabo sought Goa’s crown and would use Dawn’s backing to get it. So in public places the two often kept a bit of space when they could.

“Well, if this old bird thinks well of you,” you turn to see a man who looks like he would be just as comfortable in a bar as he was right now. His suit was well tailored, deep reds and browns, trimmed in gold. The style was unique to you, it was loose and flowed with his movements, but it suited him well. 

His left arm was false, made of leather and brass and magic, but it moved so naturally you weren’t sure you were seeing it correctly - as though it was as real as one of flesh and blood.

“Then I see no reason to worry.” He finishes, bowing deeply with an easy flourish that would almost feel overdone if it had been someone less sure. “Shanks, at your service.”

“Prince Luffy speaks highly of you,” Sabo says with a smile. “Though this is our first meeting, I honor his assessment of people.”

There’s something in Sabo’s tone that feels tense, but you aren’t sure if it’s hesitation or respect. Maybe both, you consider, since you can feel the sharp edges around a man who is going out of his way to appear affable. Marco was powerful, and it was easy to get a sense of that just by being in his presence. Shanks was also powerful, but while Marco appeared truly at ease, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Shanks was tense beneath the surface.

Though that tension wasn’t directed at you or the Duke.

“I appreciate that, your Grace. My apologies for effectively crashing your party.” 

“Think nothing of it.” Sabo looking over to you before you both smile at Shanks. “With more time to plan for the wedding, we’ll be happy to have officially in attendance for that one. Especially as I would like to speak to you about an associate of yours, when there’s more time.”

You could swear for a split second that Shanks looked embarrassed. “Certainly, your Grace.” 

Marco’s and Shanks’ approach of you and Sabo seemed to put the entire hall at ease. The din of conversation bubbles up around you and people turn into their own groups, waiting in turn for a chance to approach the two of you.

You met at least a hundred people over the course of the night, and most of them blurred together. Nobles of Goa who approached the Duke with nervous hesitancy, walking away with smiles on their faces as your words and movements assured them you weren’t under duress. The Lady Lulusia was truly happy beside the cold northern Duke, and while he may be as intense and off-putting as usual, you were sure people noticed the way his expression softened when you spoke.

People from other kingdoms came up and introduced themselves to you throughout the night. They stayed in your mind more than the blur of Goa nobles, mostly because Sabo actually spoke to them.

A young lady with long fiery orange hair introduced herself as Nefertiti Nami, and apologized to Sabo about Queen Vivi’s absence. Apparently her and someone called “Trah-oh” would be in attendance for the wedding, but Nami had come for now, and to keep track of a knight from Germa. The crossing of connections didn’t make sense to you, but when she pointed to a green-haired, severe looking young man in a Germa military uniform talking to Prince Luffy, it made a little more sense.

Something about Luffy pulled at you, and you imagined that pull was fairly universal. Sabo pointed out to you that the knight hanging around Luffy was the very same one he’d sparred near endlessly with, after Luffy, Ace, the Alabasta Kingdom and the Queendom Kingdom had united to help Germa’s king take control during an internal conflict between Germa’s four princes.

Dawn and Goa as kingdoms hadn’t gotten officially involved, but Sabo had been ready to send more aid despite being sent to the border, and King Garp would’ve intervened to save Luffy and Ace if needed. Fortunately, despite the ferocity of the battle, the war didn’t drag on. Germa’s people suffered minimally and in the end the Academy itself was only closed for a couple of months.

A well-dressed young man with a distinctively long nose, bouncy curly hair, and a bright smile introduced himself as the representative from The Queendom Kingdom. He had been in Germa on a diplomatic mission, and to help with the reconstruction efforts, when news of the engagement ceremony arrived. His king had given him permission to attend, allowing the king to focus on attending the upcoming wedding.

The Queendom was the longest journey to Goa, from any capital on the continent, especially since it was located on an island some miles off shore from Alabasta’s coast. 

Two hours into the evening and you’re ready to sit and take a break when the announcer’s voice fills the hall.

“The Crown Prince of Goa, Sterry Outlook IV de Goa!” 

You feel every muscle in your body flinch, fingers tensing. Between getting settled into your new home, and everything around the engagement party, your training, and the arrival of Ace and Luffy, you had never told Sabo how the King, Queen, and Prince had treated you. Sure, you didn’t doubt he had some inkling, and certainly you knew that it wouldn’t harm you to be honest with him about it, but it was still something you hadn’t had the chance to discuss clearly.

What plans you had put together in terms of dealing with Sterry, should he end up arriving, were all centered around getting him to leave with minimal negative impact.

“Are you alright?” Sabo questions. He’s holding your hand, but his eyes are on the entrance as Sterry comes into view through the doors.

“Yes.” You answer softly, squeezing his hand to reassure him. “Beside you, your Grace, I am.”

You step forward with Sabo as the two of you move to greet Sterry. You curtsy as Sabo bows, and Sterry closes the distance between you as he steps off the last of the stairs.

“Up, both of you, it is not my engagement party.” He offers up jovially. There’s an odd tension in the air, an uncomfortable, almost manic look in his eyes when you lift your head to meet his smiling face. Something about it makes you cold down your spine, but you shove your discomfort aside.

No matter what Sterry does or says, you’re not all by yourself while three people berate you over breakfast.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to be able to make it.” Sabo says as you both straighten back up.

“I was still convincing the King at breakfast,” Sterry explains, and he almost sounds apologetic.

“Truly, a time when conversations can be most tense.” You offer up with an apologetic tone and neutral expression.

You don’t risk looking at Sabo, but Sterry turns his attention away from you and toward his brother.

“Indeed.” He says stiffly, before clearing his throat. “Is there somewhere we can speak? I realize it’s rude of me to request time with you during your celebration, but I just need a few moments.”

Sabo looks over at you. “My lady, I’m sure my brother can wait a couple more hours if you prefer, otherwise I promise we won’t be long. Tonight is effectively your debut and your engagement party.”

Sabo’s emphasis on the words causes Sterry to shift awkwardly, as the two await your verdict.

“Truth be told, your Grace,” you admit with a smile. “I’m not used to events like this, and having a few moments to sit would be welcome. I shall await your return patiently.” 

“Thank you, Lady Lulusia.” Sabo bends down, raising your hand up and kissing the back of it briefly before stepping away with Sterry. It takes you a second to realize the action had put you in a bit of a daze, but you step away, and find a place to sit. 

You cannot, as effectively the star of the evening, scurry away into a dark corner or step outside, especially not with the Duke no longer on the floor. Instead you sit down at a vacant table that’s easily visible to most in the hall. You’re barely even fully seated when Koala comes over with a cup of tea and a small tart.

“I hope you haven’t been waiting for me to sit for the last two hours, Koala.” You hum softly and she smiles in a way that doesn’t answer your concern in the slightest.

“Please enjoy these, my Lady. If his Grace keeps you waiting too long I shall fetch him for you.” She replies and you smile.

“I’ll not wither away if he takes more than a few moments, so long as he returns.” You assure her.

Having already met most of the attending guests, you weren’t surprised that people seemed to give you some space as you sipped your tea and ate the small treat Koala had brought you. While people were certainly interested in you, most were interested in creating a connection with the Duke, or you and the Duke.

You alone were not interesting, or powerful enough, to be worth approaching. Which suited you just as well.

Though, you weren’t surprised when someone approached you once you were done eating.

“May I have a moment of your time?” The deep voice rolls down your back like warm honey. Glancing askance you can barely take in more than the man’s waist and broad chest. You would have to crane your neck to meet his eyes.

“Please,” you offer, holding a hand out toward the seat across from you. “Have a seat, sir.”

The man who sits across from you is dressed richly, but you know the difference between a noble and a merchant. While this man’s pockets may be deeper than the treasury of most kingdoms, there was no nobility in his countenance. A heavy scar marks him uniquely from one side of his face to the other, cut across the bridge of his nose.

A permanent, if not grotesque, smile.

Rich jewels adorn the only hand he has left, and the deep golden hue of the hook that is in place of his other hand is ornate. The craftsmanship is delicate, and meant to assure those around him that he’s not dangerous, since the fine work dulls what would normally be a sharp and ruthless tip.

“It is my pleasure to meet you, Lady Lulusia, future Duchess of Goa.” He says easily, beginning his introduction with a pleasing tone and a soft expression. As soft an expression as you think he can manage, at least. “I am Sir Crocodile, the merchant king.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, though I’m unsure why you’re introducing yourself to just me.” You reply evenly. You’re not afraid of the man sitting across from you. Not while you’re here, in the heart of the Duke’s estate, surrounded by his knights and personnel.

But you’re no fool. 

The man sitting across from you is extremely dangerous. Like Marco and Shanks, there’s a power that shifts around him. Where Marco leaves you fully at ease, perhaps solely through his connection to Sabo and his brothers, and Shanks is actively seeking to make sure you’re at ease, Crocodile bothers with none of this.

His words are careful, his tone is as manicured as his look. Outside of the safety of this space, you do not doubt that he would be able to do as he pleased, and your only safety would be whatever resided within the boundaries of his pleasure.

You did not want to test your strength against his if you could avoid it.

“Do not be so dismissive of your worth, Lady Lulusia.” He replies smoothly. “Your father’s accomplishments at the northern border are well-known. Ten years at his heel carried you well through all the changes you faced later in life.” 

You can feel your stomach knot at how much he knows, but you try not to let it show. Knowing your past doesn’t mean he knows everything about you.

“The success you’re enjoying right now is neither luck nor ignorant happenstance.” He says plainly. “It is a mark of your skill.”

“It’s hardly felt that way,” you admit plainly, thinking about how much it felt like you were being led around by your nose when you first arrived in Goa. “But I do appreciate your assessment.”

His eyes narrow, and for a moment you feel more exposed than you did when the good doctor was actively casting magic on you to see what your bones looked like. The tension feels like teeth at your throat for a split second, but then it’s gone, and the oddly soft expression returns.

“While it will be a pleasure to do business with both you and the Duke, I must apologize that I don’t believe I will be able to attend your wedding.” With a single finger he slides a sealed envelope across the table, leaving it just within your own easy reach. “A gift, in place of that, to do with as you please. May you know success as vast as the sands, Lady Lulusia.”

He offers the words in farewell, standing up and bowing slightly before walking away. Once he’s stepped away from your table, Koala is at your side again. You look at the sealed envelope, glancing up to notice that Sabo was on his way back, standing along the upper level and seemingly bidding farewell to Sterry.

Looking back down at the item that was left behind you look over at Koala, who was still watching Crocodile as he disappeared into the crowd with ease.

“Koala, can you take this back to my room?” You request, tapping the envelope. 

“Certainly, my Lady.” Bowing, Koala takes the letter and steps away. If she had a reason to linger you know she would’ve said as much, so you don’t worry about her quick departure.

Your few moments of respite were as far from restful as they could’ve ever hoped to be. You were glad that it looked like Sterry was well and truly leaving, since the possibility of him lingering after Sabo left was one of the largest immediate concerns you had.

Sabo smiles at you as you stand up and meet him near the steps.

“My apologies,” he says, stepping in line with you easily. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Not at all, your Grace. I had a nice respite, and only one new name to learn.” 

“Oh?”

“A merchant with a very distinct scar.” 

Sabo stiffens, but then relaxes. “He was invited. I didn’t expect him to approach you alone like that, I apologize.”

“No need, he was…” you pause, brows furrowing briefly. Sabo regards you for a moment and you shrug. “Polite.” 

“That’s as good as one can hope for.” He admits with a sheepish expression. “Another hour then, let us endure it together. Let me know if you need to rest, my Lady, I would like a moment of your time before you retire tonight.”

“Certainly, your Grace.” You reply, a warm smile on your lips as you return to the crowds with Sabo by your side.

The two of you moved through the hall with ease, meeting with more people, stopping to talk to some you had already met, and by the time guests started to depart you were fairly certain you had spoken to the vast majority of Goa’s nobility. In a few days time you were certain there would be rumors about how the cold Duke of the north was finally warming up. It had taken some trial and error on the King’s part to find a good match for him, but the King’s wisdom and tenacity persevered.

It was also possible that it was the Crown Prince’s idea, and that he was coming into his role as future king for Goa. Or so you had both implied.

As Sabo had pointed out before, it was best for everyone if the people of Goa didn’t have to worry about a fight for the crown. After Germa’s recent war, there was a heavier unease over the populous, and Sabo truly had no desire to be king anyway.

When your head was swimming with far too many names again, and the hall was more than half as full as it had been, Sabo excused the two of you from the main hall and escorted you out into the gardens. The sun was long set, and the cool air was welcome against the warmth and lights of the hall. The relative quiet was also welcome, as the constant din of conversation had started to wear on you as much as the number of people and introductions.

You breathe in the sweet air deeply, Sabo right along with you. Both of you let out soft sighs, trying to release the tension of the long party as much as you can.

“There were even more people than I expected.” He says, before turning toward you. Crossing his stomach with his arm he bows toward you with a little less flourish than Shanks had used at the start of the event. “Might I escort you to one of my favorite places in the gardens, my Lady?”

He offers his hand at the end of his question and with a smile, you accept it.

“I would be honored, my Lord.”

There was no moonlight to speak of, but Sabo led you unerringly through the gardens, setting a few motes of light to brighten your view of the flowers and plants you were passing by. The orbs were much smaller than the cantrip you commonly used, and far more numerous.

“They’re like fireflies.” You murmur. “They’re beautiful.”

“Ace has far more flexibility with this technique than I do,” he admits, his voice full of warmth. “They’re not as bright as the usual spell and I don’t want to attract unnecessary attention.”

The laugh bubbles up your throat and you indulge the sound. “I suppose we have had ample attention already tonight.”

“Indeed.” Sabo clears his throat and something in his manner has your face heating up. “And as we have a rare moment together, I wanted to say something that I find has been on my mind… quite often as of late.”

“Certainly.” You barely get the word past your lips, a warmth in your chest holding the cool air around you at bay quite suddenly.

Sabo takes both of your hands into his, and his eyes focus on them, his gloved thumbs rubbing the backs of your hands gently.

“Things as they are,” he begins, a shiver in his voice that makes it difficult for you to look up at him, instead you’re watching your hands same as he is. “The matter of marriage may well be a foregone conclusion, and while this brings me some comfort-.”

You look up at the revelation, and Sabo’s gaze shifts to yours. His face is pink, even in the dim light of his magic flitting about you, you can see the emotion he’s struggling with in his words on his face.

“I find that I am, perhaps greedily, desiring a union with you that is more than one of lucky providence. Emotional connections may be looked down upon by the wide majority of nobility, and while I might not be ready to put a word to this feeling, I know that I cherish it.

“I cherish you.” He squeezes your hands, pressing his lips together, and looking away for just a moment before he looks back at you. Sabo kneels down on one knee. “I will do all I can to see you happy. Anything within my power to keep your smile in my life.”

He breathes in deep, steadying his nerves and looking at your hands again, holding them tightly for a second before pulling a hand away and reaching into his jacket. Taking out a small, ornate wooden box, he flips the lid up with his thumb.

“I am naught but a man before you, asking if you will do me the greatest honor I may ever know.” You can feel the tears running down your cheeks despite all your efforts. You don’t even know when they began to well up in your eyes. Sabo looks torn for a moment, caught between his own fears and your tears.

“Will you marry me?”

Wiping a tear away, you nod. You mean to lean down and hug him, but your legs decide differently and Sabo nearly drops the ring, catching you as you fall into him for an embrace you didn't realize was so desperately desired.

“Yes,” you finally manage, holding onto him and taking a moment to calm yourself before you lean back onto your knees enough to look at him. “I would be just as honored.”

Gloved fingers carefully wipe tears from your cheeks, Sabo’s eyes full of relief and focus. He stops, once your tears are wiped away, and looks down at his hands.

“I… apologize, Lady Lulusia, my hands are a bit of a fright.” He explains, even as he begins to pull his glove off. “But I-.”

Putting your hand over his, you still his actions. “No part of you, your Grace, is frightful.” Carefully, you pull his glove the rest of the way, giving him time enough to stop you if he wishes.

“Thank you.” His voice is soft, and almost fragile. You’re sure there’s mountains of history tucked in the two words, but now isn’t the time. With his gloves off, he gives you a moment to run your fingers over the burn scars.

Swallowing thickly he reaches out for your face, and when you lean toward him, it’s all that he needs. Cupping your cheeks gently, he carefully brings your lips to his.

Dry, soft, shivering slightly from nerves, you or him you can’t tell. The first sweet press is brief, and your tongues slipping over your own dry lips is the only action to separate the first kiss from the second one. This one is warm, far less dry, and far more sure. Heat rushes to your face, and down to your chest, as if your body cannot decide where it’s needed. The shift sends a thrill through you, adding sweetness to a kiss you’d been wanting for far too long already.

It took a couple more kisses between you, before either of you thought about the ring.

[wordsandrobots]

All right then.

I've finished watching Fang of the Sun: Dougram. And the first thing I will say is that for 75 episodes, it makes a very good attempt at justifying its run-time. There's a sense of things steadily ramping up over the course of the first twenty-odd episodes, helped immensely by the framing device of knowing the titular mecha is going to wind up burnt out in a desert somehow (it's literally the opening shot of the show). Things do flounder a bit halfway through, yes, but somewhat less than you'd think. The show keeps coming up with new developments and overall has the feel of a particularly long, rather old-fashioned sci-fi war novel that is committed enough to what it's doing to earn trust for the time investment.

Your mileage on that, however, will vary considerably with how you feel about the plot and specifically whether you actually want characterisation with it. But more on that later because the first thing I absolutely have to talk about is the mecha design.

Fang of the Sun is, I believe, the second series to fall into the 'real robot' category, following the original 1979 Gundam. Coming out in 1981 and with mechanical design also carried out by Kunio Okawara, it self-consciously sheds some of the more 'super robot' styling of Gundam. The 'combat armours' of this show have aircraft-like cockpits in place of heads, are carried about by heavy-duty helicopters or flat-bed trucks rather than flying aircraft carriers, and there are no space-battles to be seen. Everything is strictly terrestrial, with events mostly transpiring on the twin-sunned colony world of Deloyer. We are in capital-G Grounded territory this time around, with the combat armours really being the sole sci-fi excess in battles populated by normal tanks and 'Duey' attack helicopters.

And with the greatest respect for 'hard sci fi' as a tradition, I find this somewhat silly. Not because it doesn't work on its own terms, but because this is presented alongside faster-than-light wormhole travel that makes interplanetary hops equivalent to intercontinental commercial flight. While the mechanics are trying very hard to look like they belong alongside proper Airfix kits, the science is softer than Gundam in all respects save the actual psychic powers (Fang of the Sun does not indulge).

Furthermore, Deloyer is pretty much just Earth with an extra sun in the sky. There's no effort made to make it visibly alien, regardless of the multiple biomes the protagonists travels through. It's presumably been terraformed as part of the colonisation process, but exactly when and how that took place is irrelevant. There is some justification for setting events on an alien world rather than on Earth, as we learn Deloyer is supplying resources to a depleted homeworld and is positioned to allow colonisation of three further planets. However, for the most part, you'd be forgiven for thinking there was no need to place the action in another solar system. Since the wormhole traversal is done station to station, we don't even get any particularly memorable space sequences.

Thus, when the the mecha are mostly literally Gundam-style robot suits without faces, it does rather feel that the visible attempt at a more grounded approach is fighting with other parts of the set-up. And that kind of sums up my overall feelings towards this series. In some respects it is extremely strong. But I came away with the impression what the creators thought was really interesting didn't quite align with the framework they were working within.

(Cut for spoilers.)

Fang of the Sun tells the story of the Deloyer independence movement, creators of Dougram, from their beginning as a scattered guerrilla groups, through a back-firing attempt to neutralise them by the ruling Earth Federation, to the formation of a united army and the establishment of a true, self-governing state, and the ultimate betrayal of the movement by its less radical elements. In terms of this narrative, I have very few complaints to make, save perhaps that it is, from my perspective, not especially original. It is ambitious though, as it attempts to thoroughly chronicle the main beats of a year-long epic. I won't say it always succeeds in this; there are one too many 'and then the narrator bridges the gap most conveniently' moments. But as I said above, it's got a good handle on set-up and pay-off, as characters come in, establish themselves, and then disappear for a while only to return when it makes sense.

I will also give it props for how it renders political manoeuvring, with a roster of high-level characters including Federation Council Chairman Donan Cashim, puppet Deloyan representative Colonel Von Stein, dissident leader Professor Samalin, and most especially Donan's scheming secretary Helmut J Lecoque, the show's main antagonist, who engineers a rapid rise to power as his employer's health fails. The way these men drive the plot and have the consequences land upon them is very satisfyingly handled. Lecoque managing to come out supreme by the final few episodes, in control of a supposedly liberated Deloyer after engineering everyone else's downfall, only to be shot to death at the last minute by the traitorous sell-out he'd been using to play each side against the other is positively Shakespearian. And satisfying. So very satisfying. You would not believe how eminently punchable this man is. He practically leaves a slime trail everywhere he goes.

But that's only half the story. Or it should be, seeing as the characters we are actually supposed to be following are the 'Fang of the Sun': Donan's rebellious son Crinn and the Deloyan gang he falls in with after accidentally leading the Federation to the secret hangar where Dougram was being constructed. So what about them?

Well. Yes. What about them? You see, this is my big criticism of this show. It doesn't seem to care very much about its protagonists. Oh, they're there throughout, fighting battles, getting into scrapes, having amusing bits, and generally fulfilling the need for a mecha anime to have a bunch of explosions every episode. Yet I can't really say that they develop or grow or change over the course of events. They're stock characters in every way that matters. We've the daring leader, the teen hero, the big guy, the kid, the nerd, the blow-hard, the weirdo and the woman. And if that is doing Canary a bit of a disservice, it's only because she gets to be the most all-in for the fight a couple of times, because the Federation killed her brother.

Crinn Cashim is particularly egregious, giving a passionate final episode speech about how much Dougram means to him after everything when he has largely failed to display any real emotion that isn't 1) rushing blindly into danger, 2) staring into the distance and 3) screaming in agony as he is hit by enemy fire for the bazzillionth time. Seriously, they only stop the arrrgh!/urrrgh!/oooogh! reaction shots around episode 73. Up to then, you'd be forgiven for wondering why the hell the dimwit isn't used to it by now, given Dougram seems to have all the evasive ability of a barn. Lucky it's got Gundanium really good armour, isn't it?

And I've just realised: there's a half-hearted plot-point early on about how Deloyer is passing through an 'X-nebula' that is screwing up electronics and long-range comms -- basically Minovsky particles only always on. One of Dougram's key features is being 'X-nebula-proof', whatever *that* means. But I think they just drop that completely after a while? They certainly stop mentioning it, reasonably so since it has virtually no bearing on the plot beyond a couple of 'woo woo we can't use radar' moments.

Anyway, lest you be tempted to blame Crinn's inexpressiveness on the animation, which is purely serviceable on most levels except the quite good storyboarding, I should point out that Crinn is also one half of the central romance of the show; a romance that consists of his cousin following him from region to region so she can occasionally show up and shout 'Crinn!!!' at him while he gawps and yells 'Daisy!!!' back. It's truly pathetic fare, empty of any real content. Daisy is a limp lettuce who gets to traipse around, partaking of a roster of service roles as befits beautiful young lady in this kind of thing. She makes Mirai Yashima look like a masterclass in nuanced character growth.

Indeed I can't help but compare this to Gundam 79 and it can't help but come up horribly short. The places the narrative sings are when it is focusing on the political, command, and high-society levels of the conflict. The rest is just there because I suppose it had to be. Putting Crinn next to Amuro Ray is a hilarious downgrade, and I don't even particularly like Amuro Ray as a character! Crinn a void, there to do Stock Hero Stuff and not one iota more, surrounded by the sketches of good characters and a plot that is honestly carrying itself along fine without him nine-tenths of the time.

Oh, and? That opening shot of Dougram destroyed, with the strong implication Canary is the only survivor, mourning her lost comrades? Pffft. Nah. Totally not what happened. Yes, one of the gang does die early on (in a very contrived accident involving an exposed rivet snagging the pin of a grenade while its bouncing around inside a motorcycle side-car, no I am not kidding), but he is almost immediately replaced with a near-identical (IN UNIVERSE!) replacement. Thereafter, everyone in the title sequence has their plot armour on.

Well, except Rita. Oh gods, Rita. The 'fun' revolutionary ditz who joins for the middle arc, who is revealed to have a secret origin involving the traitorous sell-out, Destin, and thus tricked into betraying the gang, then shot dead to give everyone else feelings for a couple of episodes after which she is never mentioned again.

Yeah, this show is sexist in very typical and uninteresting ways and that's only not a big deal because there are precisely three female characters of any note (three and a half counting Nurse Dalloway, who I will concede does get to be awesome for a moment).

What else should I say while I'm, burying it? Right. Very few of these characters have any backstory to explain why they are where they are and doing what they are doing. Gang leader Rocky and Canary get a bit, as do Crinn and Daisy, and of course Rita, but it's almost laughable how flat everybody else is. I kid you not, we get some set-up that disgruntled Federation officer Zalstev and roving Che Guevara-alike J Locke have a history together and when the time comes to reveal it, we are treated to a three second slide-show going 'oh, yeah, these dudes are like mortal enemies who've been fighting for years which is why J Locke is going to bring Zalstev into the rebellion now he's gotten fed up with his superiors getting in the way of him bringing down Dougram'. It's comically half-baked. We never even find out the remotest thing about J Locke himself or why he's leading the GI Joe branch of the liberation movement. He just springs out of nowhere to be all cool and effective and then toddles off until he's needed again.

What a guy.

I'm being harsher on this show than I want to be. It is gloriously cynical in its approach, despite its toothlessness, but never without extra wrinkles. There's a lot of cowardice and regret on the part of the factions selling out or doing underhanded things, such that some tension is retained over how far exactly they will go to save their skins. Some of the stuff with Lecoque in particular is a great study in ambition and resentment. And roving journalist Lertoff is a hoot, particularly when he gets to spar with the people in positions of power.

I just wish he'd been integrated better as a way of telling the story. Which -- yeah, that's it. For all that Fang of the Sun does well, there's a checklist of elements just flapping around loose inside the walls of the actual story, never cohering in more than a lip-service sense.

[totally-a-different-person]

Could you do future tomxtordxedd?

Sure why not, also I'm only just realizing this now that I've finished it but I should stop writing smuts that take place in red leader's office, I don't know why it's like my brain's go to every time he's mentioned (nsft past this point proceed at your own risk)

Edd scoffed, leaning back "you're kidding." It was an accusation, not a guess. "Why in the world would I ever want to stay with you?" "Because it's that or prison, Edd."

He sounded frustrated, and desperate "I just- I don't understand why we even have to have this debate" the norsk opened his hands, but Edd just rolled his eyes "You're too dangerous to let go, you know that, but please don't make me lock you up. You could rule with me, by my side, imagine the power you'd have, don't you want that?"

"No, Tord... I don't" He looked away, crossing his arms tight over his chest. He didn't even want to make eye contact with Tom. Edd thought he had been killed when he was captured, but he was just like his secretary or something?? Is that what Tord wanted him to do too?

He just didn't understand why Tom wouldn't try to find a way to contact him, or escape, just anything. Tord sighed, putting his hands together again and sitting back in his seat. "Please don't be like this, what can I do to convince you? You can have all the cola you want, you don't have to participate in any of the army stuff if you don't want to"

Edd glared at the ground, no longer really crossing his arms but hugging himself now. Tord was obviously beginning to get frustrated looking at Tom as if asking if he knew what to do. So finally, the tallest of the three did speak up "Ringo can come, and she'll be kept completely safe" "of course! I would never let anything happen to her-"

"I don't want her anywhere near you! She's not coming, and neither am I." Tord threw his arms up "you would rather go to prison than have to work with me!? Even if it meant you could live like a king, you don't care??" Edd felt tears starting to well up in his eyes, quickly squeezing them shut and shaking his head.

Tom seemed to wilt slightly at this, frowning softly and taking a few steps toward Edd and gently putting a hand on his shoulder "hey-" "I just- I don't understand how you can expect me to after everything" his voice cracked slightly. Even after all this time it still felt the exact same to be comforted by Tom as it always had, and for a moment Edd totally forgot he was upset with him too.

"I know it's a lot, and I'm really sorry it has to be like this, Tord's been trying to keep you from getting hurt since he started all of this though, and you keep almost dying because you won't stop fighting back. I told him I wouldn't let him lock you up- but if it's between that or you getting killed I don't have much of a choice" he spoke softly, his voice was a little more horse than it used to be but it was always a bit raspy.

Edd huffed and leaned away from him "You never should have joined him in the first place, I wouldn't be in so much danger all the time if I wasn't alone" he retorted, sort of snapping, but he still just looked sad, and Tom couldn't bring himself to be angry.

"Edd I'm so sorry" he hugged him, which was sort of a surprise, Edd had known the other since sixth grade and could count the number of proper willing hugs from him on one hand. That could have been part of why he was so quick to melt into it, hugging back and burying his face in Tom's shoulder as he sniffled. That or the fact that it was one the first actual conversations they'd had since he left.

Tord watched in silence for another few seconds while Tom squeezed the little brit, letting him cry. "You understand that we just don't want anything bad to happen to you, will you please come with us?" He went out of his way to include Tom that time, since Edd seemed to want him back so bad.

The demon moved away from the hug only by a step so he could speak "I... I don't know..." He seemed very hesitant, but that was still much better than before, and now Tord had an idea.

He got up and came around the desk and Tom took another step back from him so he was just looking at Tord.

"Come here, how about this, ok?" He sort of guided him to stand next to his desk. Edd seemed confused, and even slightly hesitant to let Tord touch him when the man gently grabbed his arm.

At least he used his human one, Edd couldn't help but be relieved. He still wasn't used to the robot one. While he was in thought about that though, Tord simply leaned down to kiss him like it was totally normal and something they had done a million times before. It wasn't though, so obviously Edd was startled and quickly leaned back, but effectively pinned himself between Tord and the desk when the leader just took a step closer as well.

The artist's face was bright red, staring up at him confused and considerably shaken up "what are you doing??" He asked, voice cracking slightly. "Ah, perhaps I should have been more clear"

He said that, but in truth his actions were all very intentional. "If you stayed with us, you could act as our husband, and you wouldn't have to worry about anything else. That would be your job, and I'd do everything in my power, which is just about everything" there was a sort of sick twist to his grin as he said that part "to make you happy here and get you whatever you want"

He leaned in again, not kissing him but getting very close. Edd seemed very very taken back by this. He looked from Tord to Tom, who didn't seem phased. His whole face was bright red and he looked away from them. This was weird... Wrong. He shouldn't be actually considering this, not after everything.

He was just tired, that had to be it. He was so exhausted, the idea of giving in was starting to appeal to him. "You wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore, we'd take care of everything. Wouldn't it be nice to relax?" It was as if Tord had read his mind, gently taking Edd's chin and making him look into his eyes. The shorter blushed deeper, playing with his hands a bit.

"I-I mean... Of course, but I'm not sure..." He mumbled, averting his eyes. Tord smirked a bit "that's fine Edd, how about I show you what it'll be like, and then you can decide?" He placed the robot hand on Edd's hip and glanced back at Tom who nodded.

The brunette seemed a little surprised, cheeks burning deep scarlet "ah... I guess" he spoke softly and Tord grinned "fantastic" he kissed Edd again, moving his hand to cup the boys cheek which was slightly more affectionate than holding his chin.

Edd still seemed sort of hesitant, at first he did at least, though soon slowly melted into it. His lips were so soft, they tasted like cola and cherry chapstick, it was adorable and honestly Tord already wanted to bite and bruise them, but he had to be very careful with how he went about this. So he would wait.

The kiss slowly became heated, Tord pushing his tongue into the boy's mouth and tilting his head slightly as Edd grabbed the desk behind him with one hand, the other holding onto Red Leader's jacket. He was admittedly a little taken back, having thought it would be a simple kiss. He wasn't surprised though, it was Tord after all, he shouldn't have expected anything less. He was more surprised by how good he was, really, the sweet kiss almost left him light headed.

After just another moment Edd would have to pull away, taking a few shaking breaths as he looked away, face bright red. It was embarrassing how much he enjoyed that, the metal hand holding him only slightly tighter as Tord looked to Tom, nodding to the other side of the desk then turned his attention back to Edd, mumbling "come here" as he scooped him up, much to his surprise.

"Hey!-" "Relax." He set him on the desk "Just thought this would be easier if you were a little closer in height, you haven't exactly grown much since I last saw you" the norsk teased with a dark chuckle, pushing some of the papers off of his desk.

Edd blushed a bit and glared at him "well you haven't either, you just started wearing platform boots" he spat back and it actually seemed to strike a bit of a nerve, Tom trying to stifle his own laughter as he gently helped Edd slip his overcoat off.

Tord sighed, his expression of mild annoyance fading as ran his hands up under Edd's sweater, the boy flinching at the cold metal against his soft warm flesh, causing him to shiver a bit, getting goosebumps. Tom leaned in to gently kiss his neck, letting his teeth graze the skin as Edd gasped softly. He hadn't expected it but seemed absolutely fine with it, leaning back slightly to press against him a little better.

Tord watched with a little smirk, the brunette helping a bit as Tord took his sweater off as well as his shirt, just letting them fall to the floor with a soft thud. As Edd was focused on the fact that Tord was letting the robot hand fall lower, down to between his legs. But Tom took advantage of his guard being down and bit into his neck with his abnormally sharp teeth, earning a gorgeous noise that was somewhere between a squeal and a moan.

He was quick to cover his mouth, whole face bright red. Tord laughed and gently moved his hand away, Edd whining a bit. "no no" the taller spoke softly, smirking as he switched the vibrating function in his hand on, which honestly seemed to startle both the other two. He grinned proudly.

"Pretty cool yeah?" Chuckling as he rubbed and palmed Edd's number through his pants, watching him fall apart so quickly, desperately grabbing onto Tom's arms while the man continued kissing and nibbling his neck, licking the fresh bite marks as the sub gave a high pitched moan.

"Wha-what is-" he choked, looking at Tord in confusion and the man just hummed, using his other hand to unzip the boy's pants so he didn't have to stop rubbing him "yeah, made this thing myself and thought it might come in handy" he said it like it was the most simple thing in the world, slipping it into his pants to stroke his member directly, as well as turning the vibrating higher.

Edd gave a loud, broken moan and hid his face in Tord's shoulder. Tom rubbed his sides in a comforting manner as he completely slipped his bottoms off, letting them fall as well leaving the brunette naked. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself though, spreading his legs some and trying to rock his hips into Tord's hand as he panted and moaned.

"That's a good boy~" the younger coed as he continued to pleasure his friend, looking down at him lovingly before his eye flicked up to Tom as the man opened up his drawer, getting one of the small bottles of lube the leader kept.

Tord hummed softly and looked back to Edd "hey, I need you to tilt your hips up a bit for me kjæreste" he whispered, watching as the artist took his face from his shoulder, clearly trying to not make as much noise as he had been but Tord wasn't exactly giving him a break. He did as he was told, making it much easier for Tom to access his hole, said man opening the bottle of lubricant as they spoke. "Like that...?"

Tord nodded and kissed his head "yes that's perfect, such a good boy for me" he purred giving his member a little squeeze and turning the intensity of the vibrating up again for a good few seconds as he rubbed the tip with his thumb as a reward for being so obedient.

Edd moaned out loudly as he did, leaning back into Tom and nuzzling into his neck with a whine. He was starting to get close to his first orgasm.

Tom chuckled softly, his eye lights mostly focused on the sweet little brunette's face as it contorted in bliss while he gently pushed two of his now lubed up fingers inside of him, pressing against his walls as he slowly pumped them in and out. The cola lover gave a light gasp before biting his lip to muffle a sweet moan.

Edd was making nonstop noises, slowly increasing in volume and pitch as he continued receiving so much attention, his hips occasionally bucking or twitching, Tom adding another finger. Tord realized he was getting close, and honestly part of him was very very tempted to stop, make him beg for the right to cum, but he had to be patient. Play the long game.

This was about giving Edd exactly what he wanted and making him want to stay. So once he was more comfortable, he could indulge the part of Edd that loved being controlled and dominated, but so much had changed and even if he knew that was still what Edd wanted deep down, he didn't want to try too soon and scare him off.

So he settled for something safer and just as effective in terms of melting the sub's brain. He leaned in to kiss his cheek before nibbling his on his ear a bit, electing a soft shaking breath from Edd, then whispered "go on vakker, I know your close, be a good boy and cum for me~" the leader spoke very sweetly.

He wondered briefly in the back of his mind how many orgasms Edd could take, as well as how many it would take for him to break and want to stay. Hopefully he could find the answers to both very soon.

His words had the exact effect on Edd that he hoped they would, the boy giving a broken whine, shutting his eyes tight and melting into Tom. Tom let him, rubbing his hip sweetly while his other hand pressed into the brit's prostate with three fingers causing him to jolt and cry out as he came on Tord's hand, panting and mewling softly before being kissed again by red.

This time there was no hesitation in kissing back, holding onto his shit tighter he did, feeling the metal hand switch off and let him go. Edd panted softly as the kiss broke, again leaning back against Tom. "You ready dove?" Tom asked softly, eye lights gazing down at him as he nodded pretty quickly.

He kissed the brunette's cheek as he took his fingers back, having him spread his legs as Tord took his belt off. He dropped it and slipped his own jacket off before unzipping his black jeans and taking his already hard dick into his hand, pressing it gently against Edd's hole, watching the sub flush bright red. "Let me know if you need me to stop or slow down, ok?" He whispered softly, Edd nodding in response.

It was sort of embarrassing how quickly he'd fallen victim to their advances, he hadn't meant to at all. It had just... Been a long time since someone else had touched him, he was... Sensitive. It felt so nice, he was ashamed thinking about it, but he couldn't deny that he really really wanted this.

Tord was honestly a little bigger than Edd would've guessed, having to bite his lip a little as it was pushed inside of him, wincing quietly and trying his best to relax. It felt so good to be filled through, even with the slight stretch, he was panting and whining as it pushed deeper.

Tord didn't waste a second, he did initially push inside pretty slow but didn't even slip the whole thing in before pulling back and starting to thrust in and out of Edd, who was now moaning loudly. He would give sweet, very content sounding moans every time it was shoved back inside of him.

Tord wasn't going too fast, but was still thrusting hard, setting a nice rhythm and giving a breathy chuckle as he watched the brunette. "Awe, you like that?~" he punctuated his words with an especially hard thrust causing Edd's voice to break as he quickly nodded, tears starting to well up in his eyes.

"I told you you would," Tord grinned, going faster now as he pounded the shorter "and just look at you, such a good boy, taking it so well~" Edd gasped feeling the leader's human hand take and gently started stroking his weeping cock. He gave a broken moan, cute little dick twitching at the attention, he could feel a second climax building.

"Do you want more baby?~" the norsk purred, glancing at Tom as he did. Edd followed his look and quickly nodded, giving the soldier a pleading look. He seems hesitant though, not sure it was a good idea "I... Don't know, are you sure he can take that much?" His eye lights flicked from Tord down to Edd as he spoke.

Said man huffed softly "I can take it, please Tom?" He begged softly, and Tord was ecstatic.

This was perfect, it literally possibly couldn't be going better. He kept his overwhelming joy to himself, but was very proud of himself and his plan. Tom's face went pink as Edd spoke, the man giving him puppy dog eyes as he leaned into him a bit more. "I guess it'll be alright" he spoke sort of softly, the lights now looking to the side.

"Fantastic" Tord smiled and started thrust again without any kind of warning, making Edd nearly jump out of his skin, surprised moan getting caught in his throat.

Edd could feel his climax rapidly approaching a second time, moaning and whimpering loudly as he was fucked. He could hear Tom fiddling with his jeans behind him as he got his dick out. "I-I'm-" was all he managed to mumble before he came, whining and squeezing his eyes shut tight. Tord didn't give him a break to catch his breath, if anything it felt like he was purposely pushing it deeper.

That wasn't going to be allowed at all once Edd agreed to stay, cumming without permission, but there was time for that later. You have to earn something before you can be in charge of it after all.

Now lubed up Tom grabbed Edd by the hips and positioned himself to start slowly pushing in. Tord did stop to let him, the shortest of the three panting heavily. Tom was even bigger than Tord was, both of them at once left him dizzy as it slowly pressed inside.

It honestly hurt a lot, Edd sort of wiggled as he tried to adjust. Tom very sweetly and gently kissed their sub's neck as he pushed deeper, he whispered "stay still for me Eddie..." The way the brunette squeezed around him was so fantastic.

Finally they were both completely inside of him and it felt so fantastic, it was by far the most he had ever taken at once and it definitely kind of hurt, but he felt so unbelievably stuffed and Tom was pressed right into his prostate. He couldn't even think, just whimpering and panting, giving quiet moans.

Once he was adjusted enough Tord started moving and Tom followed. It was a really weird sensation at first because it was almost impossible to get used to, Tord went right back to plowing him, even harder than before even. Tom on the other hand started fairly slowly, giving long thrusts to give Edd lots of time to adjust to his length.

The artist let his head fall back as he cried out, moaning loudly and arching his back slightly. Tord pushed his legs a bit further, holding the underside of his thighs as he pounded the shorter man who was sobbing at this point just giving little strings of incoherent nonsense and please for more. Tord had been close before but had to stop to let Tom in safely, it only took moments for his climax to build back up, panting as he thrusted, watching Edd melt for them.

It was perfect, he leaned a bit with a wide smirk on his face "you could... feel this good whenever you want," it was a little hard for him to keep a steady voice as he spoke "We'd take such good care of you, just say you wanna stay~" he instructed sweetly, Edd giving a desperate little whine.

"That's a good boy, go ahead and say it. You wanna stay here and be our cute little husband to fuck and use?~" Edd nodded quickly, mumbling "m-mhm!~ I do!~" he moaned sweetly, it was all he could muster.

"Good boy~" Tord grinned, pushing as deep as he could before cumming inside of him, Edd screaming as he was filled, Tom getting hard and faster all the while, he was getting closer to another orgasm himself by the second.

Tom felt a little weird about Tord getting Edd to agree to stay like this, he very obviously wasn't thinking clearly, but he didn't say anything. They could talk about it later.

Edd came again, starting to feel the overstimulation as they continued, starting to feel the dull pain in his hips. They pumped a few more rounds into him, just going until he said he couldn't take any more.

So, Tord had Tom help clean him up, being very gentle with him before calling somebody to come clean up the office. In the meantime they took Edd to their room. Tord has his own bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen that was connected to his office. Tom had his own room that was much nicer than the other soldiers' rooms but it was only a bedroom, and he spent most of his time in Tord's anyway.

They all got comfortable and cuddled up in the large comfortable bed in Tord's room, Edd passing out almost immediately in the warm comfortable embrace of his wonderful lovers, the other two soon to follow.

[jiskblr]

The Color of Spite: The Strength of Black Mana

Man, this post is so incredibly wrong. I don't know who they are, but despite being given a grant to write about Magic somehow (according to their blog title), and then writing this, they do not understand Black at all.

I mean, you could probably guess they were going to get things badly wrong when they started with the story of Baby Liliana to illustrate Black. Despite the color of her card in Magic Origins Baby Liliana is not Black. She is, at best, Orzhov; probably she's nearly mono-White.

Liliana becomes Black when she sees that White failed her. Morality and proper conduct and love for her family didn't save Josu and so she abandons it. Liliana had hope, and lost it. Instead she has power. Sometimes it's a better replacement; sometimes it's worse.

And for basically any human who is Black-aligned, this is reminiscent! People mostly do not turn their back on society's mores - and human society's mores are always, always White - unless that society fails them. It lets their brother die or oppresses them or left everyone around them in poverty or kept lying to them or left them marinating in unsolvable despair, and they decide that, in fact, screw the rules, I'm going to choose what I want and what limits I will accept.

While white and green are more amenable to finding hope and holding it aloft as a banner, black claws hope desperately to its chest with shredded, bloody fingernails. Every ounce of hope black has, it tore by itself from the clutches of an uncaring world.

No, that's anthropomorphizing. Imposing a human, White view on things. (Because humans are White more than we are any of the other four. This wasn't just a quirk of how early sets filled out the creature types.)

The Black view is Nothing will stop me, not even me. Out of hope? Doesn't matter. Depressed as hell? Doesn't matter. Those are just obstacles to your goals and your power, like any external obstacle. And Black knows what to do with obstacles to your goals: remove them, at any cost.

Anyone who's been depressed knows anything that relies on hope is fragile. You can either accept that you have run out of ability to care, or you can power through it. Where hope fails, ambition - raw focused need - carries you forward.

Determination is a good heroic/chivalric interpretation of Black. It's sanding off the rough edges, rounding it toward White, much like reading Red as courage, but it's not wrong.

But the true strength of Black is spite.

Spite. Nothing else their creator knew could grow in isolation, endure helplessness, and motivate even when all else was lost. Determination had to be earned, hope could be lost, love made you both weak and strong... But the urge to spit in the eye of the heavens, to rage against those who had done you wrong, to strike at those you loathed even as you fell into death-- it was destructive, yes, but the great beasts of her army were always meant to destroy. Spite could be spun into obsession, sharpened by every trial, growing only more dangerous as other things were lost.

(source)

Spite is what makes Liliana defeat Nicol Bolas; she realizes that there is something she values more than eternity, and it's not letting that fucker win. She'd rather die inconveniencing him than serve. (And then, of course, Gideon saves her, and so she returns the favor and does what he would have. As Tywin Lannister, a very Black man in every aspect of his outlook, would say: Black pays its debts.)

Spite is what opposes cosmic horror; we will go down fighting and hurt it however we can, because fuck you that's why.

Spite, like Black, is eternal. Spite can carry a lich through a thousand years of planning for a revenge that will be forgotten by everyone else but the target. Spite knows no limits but those it chooses to accept.

And, like Black in general, spite is destructive. It can be turned to constructive uses; "doing a good job just to spite the haters who thought I couldn't" is a very wide-spread experience. But spite is not healthy, and it is the proverbial knife with a blade for a handle.

"Yeah. So?", Black replies, "Do you care about being healthy, or do you care about victory?"

And, to be fair, Black sometimes decides "...Actually I pick being healthy. This time." Black will never look down on someone for making a choice, as long as they really genuinely contemplated the alternative and decided not to because they didn't like the result.

Black will look down on you for refusing to choose - as Rush says, you still have made a choice, and Black will consider you a coward or a fool for pretending you haven't. It will look down on you for accepting the status quo because it is the status quo, or accepting an outcome because "that's the way it's supposed to be", or because you're afraid of contemplating What Would The Neighbors Think.

It will not look down on you for deciding that, actually, you do care what these neighbors think, and that cost is greater than the reward for doing the thing that shocks them. It will not look down on you for deciding that the status quo, just for today, is good enough. Or that you care about people who care about morality and for their sake will refuse to break their code.

(Another Lannister story - Jaime Lannister in Feast for Crows, who spends the whole book sorting out a mess in the army and negotiating the surrender of Riverrun, which he has sworn not to fight, without ever breaking his word or oaths, despite everyone else believing he would never bother to consider either of those binding on him. Because Brienne of Tarth cares, and he cares about her opinion of him, and would rather have it honestly than try to deceive her. See also, Davos Seaworth.)

The greatest sin, to Black, is not to play. Black is what pushes people to use "NPC" as the term of the highest disrespect. You have values! Take action for them! Red says 'fuck around and find out'. Black says 'Look at what you want and go for it!'

But maybe you want less the strength of Black and more the positive side.

And for that, you want atomized individualism and the modern world.

Because, see, in any Western country before about 1950 and a lot of non-Western countries today, people were and are locked in to what their families, or priests, or villages wanted them to be. There was no way out.

And it sucked, for lots of them. Not all, never all, but lots, probably most.

And then we popularized the car and the highway, and the cities grew, and now if it sucks, you can hit da bricks. Go somewhere else. Be your own person.

Find people who like things you like, and care about what you care about, and care about your family only to the extent you want to.

People can be what they want, want what they want, and it is a triumph of Black above White, Black above Green, Black above everyone.

People are live players, determining their own destiny.

And that's what Black heaven looks like.

Abundant, rich, enjoying what we can and avoiding what we dislike. Forming communities of like-minded people, not communities by default.

(And how did it get rich? Also Black - because a number of selfish men determined the easiest way to get a billion dollars was to have someone else give you one dollar, one billion times, and the easiest way to do that was to sell them things worth $25 to them for $26. But that's a longer story.)

Anyway, that's the story of Black at its best. Spite, and Individualism, and the healing, constructive power of Getting What You Want.

[weaveandwood]

The Bard and The Blade Chapter 3: A Reckoning

Wyll/Named Tav | Slow Burn | Read on AO3 | Entire Work

Summary:

The gang meets Karlach and Wyll finds out that his pactholder has not been as forthcoming as he thought.

Suddenly, flames and an oily black substance surrounded Wyll, engulfing him. Lightning storms raced across his body, followed by a lick of flames, repeating over and over. He was screaming as if he was being dragged across all the Hells. She looked around - everyone was frozen in fear. Somebody had to do something, and who better than her? It was a lesson she learned throughout her childhood. She couldn’t depend on someone else to save the day - she had to do it herself. She lunged forward, only to be held back by Gale, who had moved closer while Mizora was monologuing

Wyll was adrift in a sea of doubt and half truths. Rosalind had immediately seen the situation for what it was and shouted at him to stand down, that Karlach was not a devil but a tiefling who had been enlisted into Zariel’s army against her will. Once he saw the tiefling’s memories through the tadpole connection, he knew . He knew Karlach wasn’t a devil. He knew he had been deceived. He knew he had been lied to by the person who held his strings, who controlled his contract, who allowed him to access his powers through their pact. And he knew the refusal to slay his charge would come at a steep price.

He was in a somber mood that night at camp. No matter how many jokes Gale tried to crack or how much teasing Astarion did, nothing could seem to raise his spirits. He was left waiting, wondering when his judgment would come. He knew it would, and likely soon - his patron didn’t like to wait. 

“Hey,” Rosalind said as she sat next to him on the ground in what he was starting to refer to as their spot in his head, as silly as it was. 

“I’m afraid you’ll find me in poor spirits tonight,” he said, sitting his still-full bowl down on the ground beside him and looking toward the heavens. If only he had been able to make a pact with a god and not a cambion on that fateful day so many years ago. Had he swung his blade at other beings that were undeserving while he was blinded by duty and without the one benefit of the tadpole connecting them all? The thought wouldn’t leave his mind, guilt gnawing at the corners of his conscience. 

“That’s okay, I just thought you’d like some company, even if it’s just to sit in silence together. Bad moods are likely to turn into worse moods when a person is left alone. Learned that one myself last night,” she smiled, leaning into him to bump his shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile. 

“Forgive me, then. A reckoning is coming, Rosalind. I suspect the veil will be lifted and I will be forced to pay my penance tonight,” he said wearily, thoughts of his punishment and how it would be exacted having run through his head since they began their walk toward camp that evening. 

“What kind of reckoning?” she asked. He could hear the nerves in her voice. 

He sighed, still staring at the stars, small pinpricks on a navy blanket. “You’re not in any danger, I promise you that. Though I can’t say the same for me.”

The ground started to rumble. Black, inky tendrils swirled, reaching toward the sky from a spot near the campfire. He heard Rosalind gasp, and saw the rest of the party snap their heads to the disturbance within the space they thought was safe, protected from the outside world. How he hated to be the one to break that illusion. 

“Hellfire. She’s coming,” he said with quiet resignation. He stood up and walked toward the disturbance, Rosalind and Karlach following closely behind. He still owed Karlach a proper apology for all of the torment he put her through - perhaps whatever was about to happen would be a first step in righting the wrongs he had directed her way. 

Fire erupted inside the inky disturbance, an oily black figure appearing in the center before revealing herself to be a cambion - Mizora, his patron. Gods, how he hated her. 

“Wyll, you’ve been naughty,” she cooed. “And you know what happens when you’ve been naughty.”

******

Rosalind looked the cambion up and down. Weirdly low cut dress, heavy gold jewelry, creepy seductive nature - it was all she could do to not roll her eyes, really. She took a deep breath, knowing she needed to take this seriously, even if the villain in question was a tacky try-hard. 

Mizora went on and on and on about something or other - Rosalind might have tuned out when she got into the specifics of the pact - contract law was never something that even registered as remotely interesting to her, but then something Wyll said brought her back to the conversation at hand, and she saw red. 

A technicality? 

Wyll was getting punished over a technicality. Fucking contracts, fucking cambions, fucking Mizora . Karlach didn’t have a beating heart in her chest, so that made her fair game. Rosalind made a mental note to figure out a way to make Mizora pay for whatever she was planning on doing to Wyll. 

Suddenly, flames and an oily black substance surrounded Wyll, engulfing him. Lightning storms raced across his body, followed by a lick of flames, repeating over and over. He was screaming as if he was being dragged across all the Hells. She looked around - everyone was frozen in fear. Somebody had to do something, and who better than her? It was a lesson she learned throughout her childhood. She couldn’t depend on someone else to save the day - she had to do it herself. She lunged forward, only to be held back by Gale, who had moved closer while Mizora was monologuing. 

“Rosalind, no!” he whispered. “Wyll will survive this. You would not.”

“You mean to tell me I should do nothing ? That we should just stand here and let her torture him?” she hissed as a bright glow erupted from the ground, swirling tightly around a now groaning Wyll. She pulled against Gale’s hold, but it only caused him to grip her arm tighter. Gods dammit, she thought, only able to watch as Wyll now stood up. He seemed uninjured, but he had…changed. Rosalind's eyes grew wide as she took in his new form - large horns sprouting from his forehead, ridges on his skin. A black eye with a red pupil instead of his large, beautiful brown one that she had grown so fond of looking into these past couple days. Her mind started flying, thumbing through all of the stories she had taken in through her life. Surely she knew something, anything of this type of magic. There had to be a way to reverse this, to get him back to his old self, to - 

“Get used to the new look, pet, there’ll be no going back. Even some magic I can’t undo,” Mizora said. Well, that answered that. Rosalind scowled at Mizora, though she doubted she was even noticed. All Mizora saw was Wyll. “Don’t forget, the pact still stands! Ta-ta!” she called out as that oily black substance coated her and she disappeared. Oh, she would be sure to make Mizora pay for this, somehow. 

She looked at Wyll, who glanced her way before shaking his head and taking off, out of the camp. 

“Wyll doesn’t even know me and he chose my life over his. No one has ever stood up for me like that,” Karlach said softly from beside her.

“He’s a good man,” Rosalind replied, watching the direction Wyll took off. “You must be relieved.”

“Absolutely, I could learn a thing or two from him,” she nodded, then her gaze followed Rosalind’s. “You should go. See how he is.”

 ******

Wyll was furious. He had never expected Mizora to be completely honest with him, but this? This seemed below even her. He hated her, but he had also misjudged her - even after all this time he still retained a bit of naivete about her. That was gone now, his guilt and shock now replaced with a burning anger. And the way Rosalind had looked at him would not escape his memory - eyes wide with shock as she took in his new form. She must think he was a monster. He hit the tree he was leaning against with his fist. Over before anything began , he thought, his good eye misting over as he blinked rapidly. 

“Wyll? Are you here?” he heard her call out. Part of him wanted to remain silent and stay hidden, but a bigger part of him wanted to see her. He stepped around the tree and his anger disappeared, gone without a trace. The moonlight was bright enough they didn’t need any spells or torches to light their way, and oh, did she look ever so beautiful bathed in it. Her hair had taken on a silvery hue and her skin was illuminated as if she were a star that had fallen from the heavens just to find him. He smiled to himself as he was taken right back to being a sixteen year-old boy again with a song in his heart and a crush he thought would last forever.

“Over here,” he called out, raising his hand. He could see the smile appear on her face when she turned to look at him. It wasn’t the smile of someone who thought the other person was a monster.

“How are you doing with all the…changes?” she asked when she got to his tree, motioning up to his horns with her eyes. 

He laughed a bitter laugh. “Well first of all, gods damn Mizora straight back to the Hells. I did the right thing, and she made me pay for it. I was to be hunting down evils - demons, devils, traitors, hypocrites. Not…not victims. Not innocent tieflings. Not people like Karlach.”

She nodded as she leaned her back against the tree beside him. “I mean, she is a devil - not exactly the most trustworthy. You’re probably lucky she didn’t take your soul or something. Why is she so interested in you? Why would she do this?”

He sighed. He wanted to tell her everything, but just the thought of doing so made a heavy weight fall on his chest, and it felt like his airway was cut off. His mind raced, quickly thinking of how to tell her about the pact without going into too many details. He took a deep breath. 

“Mizora is who grants me my power. Even though she is…well, you saw what she is, everything I have done has been for the good of the Coast. I do not regret pacting myself to her. It is one of my proudest moments, and has been worth the sacrifice - even this.” He paused before continuing, “please know that all I can give you is my solemn word about this, and I hope that’s enough.” Gods, he wanted to reach out and touch her - her hand, her arm, her face, anything for a brief bit of contact. A small comforting moment that he was not sure he deserved, but wanted anyway. 

He watched as she looked up at the moon, her brow furrowed in thought before she finally nodded. “I get it,” she said. “You wouldn’t have been able to do all the good you’ve been doing for all these years without it, even with its cost to yourself.” She looked at him. “Do you ever think, though…what your life might have been like had you not pacted with Mizora?” 

“Of course I have. Though every time I do, I realize my life would have been completely unremarkable, following in my father’s footsteps along a path he laid out for me, making no grand achievements of my own. No bards would sing songs about a normal man in Baldur’s Gate, though I’m not sure if many sing about the Blade of Frontiers,” he joked, bumping his shoulder against hers. “Besides, I would take one hundred punishments from Mizora if it meant I would be where I am right now, at this moment,” he said with a serious tone as he found himself drawn in to the way her eyes reflected the moonlight back at him, the way they creased when she smiled. They were ever-changing - now they shone silver and blue, but he knew when the sun broke the horizon they would shine blue and gold like the morning sky. 

He heard her breath catch while a soft smile lit up her face and her eyes darted back and forth between his own before traveling up to his horns, over the new ridges on his face, down to his lips, where they settled briefly before looking back into his eyes. He started to reach his hand out and over towards her, just for the slightest hope their pinkies would brush together. It would be so easy to play it off as an accident, an involuntary twitch that ended with their fingers interlaced. He pictured them walking hand in hand back to the camp, him pressing a gentle kiss to her hand as they parted to go back to their respective tents. He sighed and scolded himself internally. He could not give in to these desires on a night tainted by Mizora. Even though his heart practically leapt out of his chest every time he saw her. Even though he found himself never wanting to be apart from her. Even though it had only been a few days since they met officially, he felt like he had known her since he was sixteen. 

“We should probably head back,” she whispered after a moment’s silence, breaking eye contact and taking a step away from the tree they were both leaning on. This time she was the one putting distance between them. “Don’t want the others to get worried.” 

She started to walk down the path back to camp. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something white and luminous on the ground - a patch of moonflowers, their small petals surrounded by green leaves that were a brilliant blue in this moonlight, a flower reflecting the heavens themselves. These don’t typically grow this far south. What great fortune I have on such an abysmal night , he thought as he plucked one quickly and hurried to catch up to Rosalind, walking beside her in amiable silence as they made their way back. The glow from the campfire grew brighter and brighter, mimicking the smile on his own face as he anticipated giving her his small token of appreciation. Rosalind turned to look at him, catching his expression before he could mask it. 

“What is going on?” she asked, her eyes squinted at him in teasing suspicion. “You look like you’re about to play a trick on me.”

Wyll laughed, placing his empty hand over his heart in mock offense while the other remained firmly tucked behind his back. “Rosalind, you wound me!” He smiled as he held out the single moonflower. “No jest here, just my honest and sincere thanks to you. How glad I am that you see me as more than my patron's pet. You have shown me true friendship tonight. I will always remember this.”

She took the moonflower and smiled. He thought he noticed a hint of pink on her cheeks, though he couldn’t be positive if it wasn’t just the campfire’s glow. 

“Thank you, Wyll. It’s beautiful. I…I better go find some water for this,” she stammered as she started to back away, her smile growing larger and larger before she turned and walked toward her tent, only to be intercepted.

“ Elminster’s beard! Is that a moonflower? All the way down here - where did you find it? Did you know…” 

Wyll shook his head, throwing an apologetic look at Rosalind as she made eye contact with him from across the camp as he heard Gale starting to explain the history of the flower and its magical properties. He turned and went to his tent while Gale attempted to make the flower glow for Rosalind - “if it is a strain related to those in Silverymoon,” he heard the wizard say. 

As he drifted off to sleep that night, thoughts of Mizora were the furthest thing from his mind, replaced by a comforting melody that had been playing through his head for the past seven years.

[illarian-rambling]

Wip Introduction: Master and Apprentice (placeholder title)

So I figured I'd do a proper intro since I've been talking about it so much recently. Master and Apprentice is a project I started sometime last year, but I was in the middle of finishing Honor's Outcasts book 3 at the same time, so it kinda got left in the dust. I'm not sure how far I'll go with it now, however, I'm willing to give the ole college try!

The What: MandA centers around two sets of masters and apprentices, predictably. Heshorian is a master alchemist with the goal of being able to transmute dirty water into clean water. At the beginning of the story, he takes in a young man named Bayl after he steals Heshorian's coat. The other titular master is Daila, a necromancer. Necromancy has been banned for a few years in her area, yet she practices anyways, helping townsfolk with bandit raids and working towards her own goal of true resurrection. She also has an apprentice; a siren refugee named Pherrin, who arrived on the surface about a month ago. Daila is hunting someone with Pherrin's help, an alchemist she shares a bloody past with and who took something of hers long ago. How convenient that Heshorian is running from someone---a necromancer he once dearly loved. When the two master mages meet and powers collide, a terrible mistake occurs. It's left up to Pherrin and Bayl to navigate this new world of magic if they want to save their mentors.

The Where: MandA takes place in the province of Skolan, mostly around the mage city of Yewbury. Timeline wise, it happens between HO books 1 and 2, and 24 years earlier than MG. So the technology is roughly around Earth's golden age of piracy.

The Who: The story mainly switches between 4 POVs; Bayl, Heshorian, Pherrin, and Daila. Let's take a look at them!

Bayln Maersh: Born to an immigrant mother and an absent father in the city of Landanium, Bayl was orphaned when his mother died in a factory accident. He lived on the streets, stealing to survive, and generally being a punk. He joined five separate gangs, not telling them about the others, in order to move through the city freely. He's a bit of a shithead, fights dirty, trusts no one, and has a mouth on him that'd make a sailor blush. Despite this, he's deeply curious about magic and has a soft spot for animals.

Height-5'7"

Weight-155lbs

Hair-blond, wavy, and very pretty

Skin-whiteboy tan

Eyes-dark brown

Gender-cis man

Age-18 or 19

Sexuality: bi

Heshorian Ciarathyiys Greenbow: Bayl’s master's path to alchemy was an unremarkable one. He was born to a merchant nobility family on the Nabafyrian border, and is one-quarter Nabafyrian elf himself. He attended the Yewbury College of the Arcane when he decided to leave the family business to his sister. There, he would meet his first and truest love, Daila. The pair would travel together for a while until their falling out. Now, Heshorian spends his time working on transmutitive alchemy. He's a talkative man, very sociable, and well mannered, or even posh. Perhaps also a little naive, despite his well-traveled nature. He believes in helping people above all else.

Height-6'0"

Weight-210lbs

Hair-long and dark green, with a smartly trimmed beard

Skin-dusky brown

Eyes-leafy, elven green

Gender-cis man

Age-38

Sexuality-hetero

Pherrin Thasslenon: Being a normal siren girl, Pherrin grew up in Seluthena at the bottom of the ocean, ruled over by the absolute theocracy of the Way of Lamsara Hedandros. She was happy growing up, tending to her garden and playing in elthuryah (chess basically) tournaments, as well as working in her mother’s general store. All of this changed when the Silver Sovereign was assassinated while on campaign in the Araunian desert. Pherrin's father, an armorsmith for the siren army, was killed in a fire set in the warcamp after the assassination. Later, when riots swept Seluthena, her mother was killed while defending her shop. Pherrin fled to the surface, terrified and desperate for vengeance against the one who killed the Sovereign and caused her parents' deaths by extension---the infamous Burnsong Traitor, Sepo Kaiacynthus. Despite her grim purpose, Pherrin is slowly falling in love with the surface world, even though she tends towards nervousness. She believes that surface dwellers aren't sentient and only mimic the emotions of Illaros's true people, sirens.

Height-6'8"

Weight-190lbs

Hair-black, long, and straight

Skin-very pale

Eyes-onyx black

Gender-trans woman

Age-20

Sexuality-hetero

Daila Ray: Born in Bouerco, Sulu'Oku, Daila lived in poverty for most of her young life and worked from the age of 10. It was after a rune-rigged skeleton saved her mining crew from a collapsed tunnel that she decided she wanted to pursue necromancy. Daila saved up and eventually attended the Yewbury College of the Arcane at the age of twenty-two, quite old for a first year student. Even though necromancy has never been terribly 'en vogue,' she pursued her studies with vigor and graduated in an astonishing three years. While she was in school though, she met Heshorian. They fell in love and decided to travel the world, doing research and exploring. She loved him until disaster struck. Then all that love burned away into the purest hate. All she wants from his now is what he stole from her. Even though this drive consumes her, Daila is a down to earth, selfless woman, who took a chance on taking in a young siren refugee. She uses her necromancy to help people and to prove that it's not an evil art. She believes a mage's purpose is to protect the innocent and to condemn the wicked.

Height-5'4"

Weight-180lbs

Hair-short cornrows

Skin-dark brown

Eyes-brown and spectacled

Gender-cis woman

Age-40

Sexuality-bi

.

Anyways, hope this seems interesting! Idk how far I'll stick with it or how consistently, but here's for hoping!

Have a bitchin day <3

[resurgentclass-stardestroyer]

[Mon Mothma] pauses to consider her next words. "It is vital that we demilitarize our government so that a galactic war cannot happen like this again." The wind whips up and lifts [Hostis'] wispy hair from his liver-spotted head. "We are not yet at that day. We must show military strength. If we project weakness, the Empire will capitalize on it. Giving the war over to the fickle vagaries of politics will slow our response time, weaken our resolve, and make us appear vulnerable — in part because we will be vulnerable." [...] Mon Mothma sighs and says, "I will today put up a vote that resolves to cut our military presence by ninety percent once we are able to officially confirm an end to this war. [...] I am quite serious. Look around you. The dead on our side are not proper soldiers, no matter how much we pretend they are. They're farmers and miners, pilots and smugglers, all drawn into this conflict against the greater evil of the Empire. Once our conflict is over, what do we say to them? Keep fighting for us? Against what? To what end? For what ideal?" "For democracy, of course—" "Democracy is not in need of defense. People are. And it's why we'll keep that ten percent. A peacekeeping force. The rest of our efforts will go toward training the militaries of other worlds. We will be a true Galactic alliance, not a false one with an authoritarian sun at its center." Hostis scowls. Gravely he says: "Then we shall see only endless war, Chancellor. Smaller armies just means smaller civil wars all across the galaxy. It means oppression will grow like weeds and we won't have the eyes or the control to stop it. In this time of upheaval, the galaxy will need law and order and you will grand it only chaos. It is that vulnerability that caused the rise of the Empire in the first place. The people of the galaxy reaching out, looking for a central authority, desperate for protection..." [...] "We are not fighting the empire just to become the Empire. This is not a power grab, and that's what I want to show the galaxy. I want them to know that we trust them, as the Republic has always trusted them. If we're going to ask anybody to fight for us, they need to know what they're fighting for. And they will fight for a unified, democratic galaxy. Not one that merely pretends to be as it's squeezed tight in an unyielding fist. We must yield. And to your comment about earlier history... we will put safeguards in place. We will move forward, smarter this time. More aware."

— Star Wars: Aftermath (Interlude: Naalol)

[cantor-of-stelt]

The Toa Hydrax and Makuta Orduun

In his bid to find Traven, Náströnd realized that his current approach - kidnapping and mutating as many Toa as he could - was inefficient at best, and a hindrance at worst. It was this realization that spurred his decision to create an army with which he could subjugate the Universe.

Artakha saw this transgression unfolding from his fortress and did two things. First, he drafted plans for a massive seal to bar his realm, indeed, an entire arm of the Universe from the rest. Second, he set to work creating a new team of Toa, one more powerful than perhaps any other, for all were infused with Light.

(things get long after the break, go grab a drink and make sure your scrolling finger's doing alright)

First came Nihra, a Toa of Earth and Light to be a steadfast beacon for her future siblings.

Gault was the second, and is the only member of his team to have seen the world beyond the Artakhan Arm.

Seeing a need for a weaponmaster among the Toa Hydrax, Artakha created Seras, who forged the weapons of all her siblings.

Aldous was fourth, and is the most solitary of his siblings, but certainly neither a stranger nor an unwelcome sight to the inhabitants of the Artakhan Arm.

Next was Zevokk, whose bravery is immortalized in the scarred ends of his arms, now covered by adaptive claw cannons perfect for crushing Rahkshi or aiding the Matoran.

Last but not least is Amaria, whose zeal and sheer incorruptibility make her the Toa Hydrax's ace in the hole.

But the Toa Hydrax would be nowhere near as effective as they are without a proper teacher, and who better to instruct Toa in how to defend their home from the armies of a Makuta than another Makuta?

Orduun was among the Makuta that bowed to Teridax's will when he deposed Miserix, but he was never truly loyal to the dark tyrant. He plotted and schemed as many of his siblings did, but not to wrest control of the Brotherhood of Makuta from Teridax; Orduun sought freedom, a life away from the Brotherhood, and was willing to do whatever it took to get out. His salvation came from the most unlikely place, however, as Teridax called for any Makuta willing to seek the lost island of Artakha.

Orduun spoke first and loudest, challenging any who dared to duel him for the honor, but none protested his claim. He was granted leave of his realm, the Iron Islands, that he may search for Artakha, and he set out in the form of a flying Rahi to begin his search.

His search lasted for centuries, from the ruins of Metru Nui to the furthest reaches of the Southern Chains, and everywhere in between. He returned north to search the right arm of the Universe, and witnessed the early stages of the building of Artakha's great seal. He soared high over the construction and laid his eyes on the island of Artakha - the first being in the millennia since the theft of the Avohkii to see it from afar.

He rested on a nearby island, awaiting nightfall so he could seek a clandestine audience with Artakha himself. In the hours that passed, he kept an eye on that mythical island, in awe of its distant beauty. When the sun had fully set, he flew toward the fortress at the center of the island, but a voice entered his mind, a hard, cold spike in the nonmatter in his head. Orduun faltered, landing on a rooftop in the city surrounding Artakha's fortress.

Artakha spoke to him, demanding to know why a Makuta had dared enter his realm. Orduun told him the truth, swearing on his life, which he would pledge to the defense of the builder's realm until his final day. Artakha searched Orduun's mind, finding it wholly open to him, and accepted the Makuta's offer when he saw that he was telling the truth.

Artakha offered to restore Orduun's Light, and help him purge his Shadow, both of which the Makuta eagerly accepted. Months later, when he stood in his true form once more, he raised his hands, shining a beam of multicolored light into the sky, swearing aloud to uphold the ideals he had once and always held so dear. The Great Spirit's will was his to Duty to enact, and he'd be damned if he would fail again.

Artakha commended his zeal, and set forth the Makuta's first task as the new Makuta of Artakha: training the Toa Hydrax to defend the Artakhan Arm against all threats, especially Makuta. Orduun accepted this task readily, and was ushered into Artakha's fortress to meet his new protégés.

[borrowedtimeandspace]

Meet the OCs - Brothers Apart AU

A summary of original characters that are featured in and originated from AU I've cowritten with @brothersapart's @nightmares06. The original Brothers Apart is a Supernatural g/t AU, and my contributions add in characters from the BBC's Sherlock.

Supernatural belongs to the CW, Sherlock to the BBC, adapted from Arthur Conan Doyle's stories, The Borrowers to Mary Norton, and these OCs to me!

Stan Baker - The Unexpected Good Boi

art by the wonderful @quackghost

Stan is playful, selfless, and protective. He cares deeply for others, especially his loved ones and those who cannot easily defend themselves. His combat experience and low-key paranoia give him excellent reflexes, and he's honestly a bit of a g/t nerd who doesn't have the context for that (def one of the most self-insert aspects of him). At the end of the day, he's just a big softie, in the 'looks like a cinnamon roll and is one but will kill you if necessary' way.

Though he wasn't the first OC of mine introduced in the Brothers Consulted story, "A Burglary at Baker Street", Stan stole my heart the second he hit the page. He was meant to be a plot device, never to be seen again, and he decided he deserves to be an actual character. Who was I to argue? I mean, lookit him! Complete and total charmer.

Unlike Zepheera, who is always my emotional support borrower, I can play around with Stan's Situations™️ a lot more freely. Oftentimes he's a human, like in Brothers Consulted. In AU like Brothers Chosen, he's a born and bred borrower. I've even got a size-shifter AU for him!

Mark and Anita Bend - Power Twins

art by quackghost

Mark and Anita are twins, and victims of terrible circumstance in Brothers Consulted. Mark is the heart of the pair, trusting and friendly and happy to make friends. His problem is he's not the most tactful, which is where his sister comes in; the self-established more thoughtful and responsible one. Anita is the brains, thinking everything through before acting.

The one thing they share perfectly is a strong devotion to and protectiveness for one another. They would do absolutely anything to keep the other out of danger. A fact that is easily exploited, unfortunately. They're all they've got in a world set against them.

Nathan Sullivan - Stan's Partner

Pride photo by the lovely @abookishweasel

Nate is the yang to Stan's yin. He keeps his excitable partner grounded, and rolls with all the incredible things that happen in their lives. Whether he's a teacher as a human or a curious drifter as a borrower, Nathan always has a deep love of learning and will do what he can to be in an environment where he can keep discovering new things. He's also a passionate home cook, and keeps Stan and their German shepherd Juno very happy at home.

Where there is Stan, there must also be a Nate. Like Stan, I love to play around with Nate's size and background from story to story. So far he's appeared as a human, though I've written one short with him as a borrower, in which he and a young Stan met as kiddos.

Stan's Brothers

Stan Baker is the youngest of five brothers, who basically raised him. They have yet to show up in proper BAU, but they've shown up more often in the size-shifter AU as they help their baby bro in distress.

The oldest, Simon, stepped up to lead the household when their parents were no longer in the picture. He worked hard to make sure his brothers could live the best lives possible, and couldn't be more proud of them all. He's incredibly chill and approaches everything with a calm and clear head. If Simon freaks out, you know it's all gone pear-shaped.

Dylan, the second oldest, holds the most fight in him apart from Stan. His scholastic track leaned towards the athletic, and he has the bigger temper of the bunch, especially when it comes to his loved ones being messed with. He taught his younger brothers how to hold their own in a fight when they were kids, and very nearly joined the British army as an adult before changing his mind.

Seamus Baker is the know-it-all middle child. He mellows out of them with age, but certainly had pedantic tendencies as a kid. Studies were a major aspect of his youth, as well as making sure his brothers were all keeping in some kind of order. He seems humorless compared to his boisterous brothers, but his funny bone is just harder to tickle.

And Levi is the one just older than Stan, a sweetheart who only wants everyone to get along. He's on the chill side of the spectrum, like Simon, but he's got too much energy to keep it up all the time. He's also the most creative of the brothers, and is most likely to end up with a career in the arts.

Adult Simon (left) and kid Levi (right) by the lovely @rainyday-deer

Young Simon with shrunk Stan by quackghost

[thekitsunesiren]

In your SU x DC crossover, how powerful would you say the Gempire is compared to the rest?

Honestly, I think I need to break it down a bit.

In comparison to the DC world and SU, the gems would be somewhere in the middle.

In the Steven Universe world, as far as we know the gems are the top of the food chain in the universe and various others. There aren't really signs that there is something powerful.

In the Dc world, it would be depending against who their opponent is. They scour planets in search of proper kindergartens to grow their gems. They don't need money nor do they need food. And technically speaking they have so many planets under their rule already so there would be a chance they could be seen as overlords in various galaxies. Or at least something that is well known and feared by planets with intergalactic access. With how old they are, in the DC universe, it could be one of the many intergalactic threats that our heroes try to prepare against.

Their bodies allow them to adapt to any population since they don't need to breathe, sleep, or eat. Many lifeforms across the galaxy who based their security on their natural ecosystem and not weapons would fall to the Diamond Authority if they stepped on their home.

Then there's their powers. Each gem having their own set of abilities and weapons, especially fusion with the same gems, they are pretty powerful depending on who and what they are fighting. They're also pretty much indestructible unless their physical forms are destroyed or their gem is shattered.

Even then, there's no true number of how many number of how many gems there are that have been created by the diamonds, so if they went to war, then their army would be endless in that way. And that's if enemy weapons are able to harm them. Gems are made of light and mass. Depending on the weapon, it could somehow be making them stronger.

There are also various generations of gems and what they could do. So depending on the timeline, you could be fighting a stronger or weaker version. And we really aren't fully aware of what they could in terms of weapons. We know that they have dozen types of ships that depend on what team they send out (emeralds, rubies, war ship etc.). Along with the Injectors, Gem Rejuvenators, Light Prisms, Limb Enhancers, and the robonoids; there's so much we don't know. They've probably used the technology of planets they've invaded to advance their own at a faster rate. And we haven't seen every personal weapon a gem themselves could have, so it could most likely depend on what gem you're fighting.

If a planet were able to defeat the gems that were to invade, the diamonds wouldn't be too mad most likely. Especially if the cluster was already planted. Once that's planted, then who knows how much time the planet has left before it's destroyed anyway. Which also points out to the fact that unless destroyed, gems are ageless. If they played it right, all they would have to do is wait for an enemy to die before colonizing their planet.

They also have a lot of planets and colony observation sites. So trying to find homeworld would be a difficult task if you don't know where to look, or unable to decipher gem language.

If someone managed to find homeworld and speak to one of the gems, then there wouldn't be much negotiation. Most likely the diamonds would enslave them and make them work on the kindergarten on their home planet.

In terms of the DC universe, this could make gems stronger in some regard. If where a gem is created is partial to their peak form and abilities, then surely the planets of DC could make them stronger. I mean, how strong would a gem be if it was grown on Krypton? Mogo? Bestrassus?

Then there's enemies. Before Steven, the Diamonds weren't fond of organics and only kept humans around for Pink Sakes. Most likely they're still not, but they make exceptions. So no matter how strong they would be, there would be a strong hatred towards them since they don't "amount to anything". So all organic life is already enemy number one. Honestly a member of the Justice League or any galactic hero, warrior or villain would irritate the Diamonds and instantly make them targets to be rid of. The stronger they are, the more

Then there's fighting fighting the diamonds. With their powers, the most effective would be yellow and blue, because neither White has abilities that could effect organic life. Yellow's might not have as strong as an effect as it have on gems, but their still might be a chance it could work. Same with Blue Diamond, since her abilities to send someone into despair or mental distress could be enough to have them seized and captured. There hasn't been any proof that White Diamonds abilities could work on organic life. But even then, they're all ten-twenty sizes the average height, super strength, speed, and durability. And they also have their ships that they control and use to fight as well.

Also, I learned this while researching for this presentation, Dc has a gemworld. A magical realm full of humanoid beings who draw power from earthly gems. A quick snippet is that while I wouldn't believe that they would have the full physiology as gems from homeworld, maybe they could fall to the effects of the diamonds like a regular gem would. And seeing as a diamond faction, there's a chance that the diamonds could make them stronger.

If you ask me how strong they would be against members of the justice league, I also say it would be a hit or miss depending on who they fight. And others as well. But I'll think of this with galactic heroes first.

You can't just pull out their gems. You really have to cause enough damage for their physical forms to be destroyed. And whether or not they catch the gem as it falls could end the entire reign of a diamond. And knowing the Justice League and other galactic heroes, if they defeat the diamonds, there's a small chance they would simply seal them away before they reform instead of destroying the gem. If it's an enemy like Darkseid, then they might shatter the diamonds and try to take over the colonies to strengthen their army.

Against Green Lantern and possible other members of the lantern corps? Possibly. Green Lantern himself wouldn't be able to fight them, but maybe a few or small army could defeat a few gems and possibly get away.

Thanagarians (Hawkman, Hawkgirl, etc.)? Maybe? They're warriors and are able to put up a good fight. Their flight comes in handy as well. I believe they would be the kind to shatter gems as well, something that would anger the Diamonds and have their planet as a whole targeted and maybe even destroyed. It would be an endless battle.

Superman is a possible maybe. But it also depends. I made a prompt about kryptonite being gems that never fully formed, but I also question as to whether or not gems from the homeworld hold any possible differences. Could gems themselves weaken Superman or would a Kryptonite gem be needed. If not, then I'm sure that he would be able to destroy plenty of gems. His struggle would come when fighting the Diamonds.

Martians are another maybe that come to mind. While they have plenty of abilities', they could go through gems very quick and have the possibility of not being seen. Especially with their shapeshifting abilities. But if the Diamond Authority found out their weakness to fire, then they would send fire based gems to destroy them. Maybe even create some specifically to fight martians.

I could go on, but I believe that these three would put up as the best examples I could think of.

Now, let's talk about Steven as a whole. Half gem-half human. The son of one of the tyrants and favored by the remaining three. Yes, he is known for technically ruling earth, the only planet that Pink Diamond ever colonized. But, he is still a ruler. And with him being on earth along with the rest of Earth's mightiest heroes, those who know about the diamond authority would definitely be fearful that he resides there as well has a kindergarten of his own.

We know about his powerset, and how well he could fight against gems, especially when he's angry. But, how would he fare against a DC member? He has a lot of abilities, but he would never go for the killing blow. Not on purpose. Yes, at most I believe that at most, Steven could overwhelm a few Dc members, maybe defeat a few. But if given the Dc treatment and more training, he could become a much stronger threat.

And this is also talking about whether or not he has full control of all of his powers, because his corrupted form could do plenty of damage.

Do I think I answered this question fully? No.

Do I think that I info dumped and did a lot of research I should be putting into papers into a current obsession? Most definitely.

Do I think I put a stable place holder of the Steven Universe universe-heh- in the Dc Universe? Most likely. But I could always go back and edit some more.

Hopefully this should answer a few questions. I'm going to bed XD!

[ruvastuon]

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt

A Bad Time to Remember the Past

I wasn't planning on putting this guys perspective up yet, but it seemed to fit for the prompt, so I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Discriptions of medical procedures, violence, blood, burning skin, laceration, and dismemberment.

@wyked-ao3 (a bit more on the villain of my story. He now has a proper name! Albrecht)

Glossary:

(In case you are curious about any of the terms in the medical procedure)

Topical Benzocaine: a gel spread on skin to numb before injections.

Articaine: a type of numbing agent injected locally in tissue to numb an area.

Epinephrine: used in local anesthesia to increase the duration of numbness by constricting blood vessels in the area and preventing the local anesthesia from being absorbed by the blood stream as quickly.

Buccal: the gum tissue covering the outer side of teeth.

Palatal: tissue over the top of the mouth on the inner side of the teeth.

Maxila: upper jaw

Nerve block: an injection that targets higher on a nerve branch to numb more tissue at once.

Infiltrations: injections that target a specific area and numbs the nerves directly adjacent to the injection by targeting the approximate location.

Now, back to the story.

Topical benzocaine followed a minute after by 2 carpules of Articaine HCI 4% 1:100,000 epi. Infiltrations for the buccal and a nerve block for the palatal side of the right maxila. Within minutes he’d watched as the surgeon took out a scalpel and carefully cut gum tissue down to the bone and gently peeled it back as the patient lay, mouth open, not even flinching. Then the drill had come, and with a whir of mechanical power, the bone was carefully bored down to expose the gaping sinus.

Of all the things that Albrecht had been forced to observe in his mandatory job placement hours, this was the one that really stood out to him. It was fascinating what a little chemical compound could do to dull the senses. He’d even been able to hold a mundane conversation with the man about his line of work while the surgeon scurried off to attend some other matters.

Another wave of explosions rocked by him. Albrecht’s head screamed in pain as that long forgotten memory snapped back into the recesses of his mind where it belonged. With both armies cowering in the darkness, he should have been on the cusp of his victory, the whole world bathed in beautiful darkness by his machines. Yet here he stood, recalling the memories of a child, a fool who didn’t understand the meaning of his own destiny.

Looking about him in confusion Albrecht’s teeth gnashed at the husks of his elite soldiers, boiled in their own skin at the shine of an artificial sun. Ever calculating, he could already see that what remained of his force wouldn’t last long after such a devastating attack. Ten blasted years of preparation… all for something like this? The fangs under his mask ached as he fought for control of his raging mind. His careful planning should have seen him to the end, in the way that it always had.

The power coursing through his veins spiked as the pieces of his strength once gifted to his thralls all began to converge back into him in a wave of sickening pressure. The feeling blinded him, and for the first time in his long life, Major Albrecht lost his ever firm grip on reason. Head snapping towards the source of his misfortune, he narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists.

Using his powers, the Major smoothly dropped into the shadows and quickly traveled in their protection until he came upon the small vehicle, still driving away at a speed far beyond its natural means. There were four, no five of them, as far as he could tell, but it made no difference. They would all be dead soon enough.

With an enraged roar, Albrecht materialized in the shadow of the car and dug his teeth into the little warlock at greatest fault for this downfall. The man yelped in pain and raised one hand to secure the hat on his head before using another to push Albrecht away so he could stop the bleeding. He had no intention of letting him live.

A glimmer of something shiny peaked out from underneath, but he had little time to dwell on it as a stake was driven almost into his heart. Whirling around on the would-be attacker, the Major sunk his claws deep into their forearm, tearing through it with a growl of surprise at the strangely wooden texture. He grinned in satisfaction as a sharp hiss of pain rang out from whatever the thing was. It still felt pain, so even if it wasn’t human, he could still break it.

Half drunk on this strange ecstasy, he almost missed the smell of steel. His mind suddenly flared with a sense of danger, and he pulled away as a shot rang out, hitting the side of his helmet and exposing part of his face to the blasted false sun.

Like a bucket of boiling water, the pain brought him back into focus, and Albrecht immediately retreated into the shadows, taking the limb he’d managed to sever with him. With his armor damaged even this much, he wasn’t fool enough to risk an end to his plans even with his spiked blood lust.

Note: The procedure mentioned at the beginning of the chapter is for a sinus lift to increase the bone level enough to place a dental implant.

[fantasyinvader]

Looking more at it, Edelgard doing everything simply for power makes everything click more. I mean, the game talks about how people have done shitty things for power and how bad it was. Lying, stealing, killing, all things Nemesis and Edelgard have in common. And the game depicts this as not a path of ascension but rather regression. So it's tying into that while also serving as a basis for all of Edelgard's hypocrisies.

Why does Edelgard concentrate power on herself rather than give it to the masses after all her “fuck the rich” bullshit? Because she was lying to gain more power for herself.

Why was Edelgard okay with sacrificing people and experiments that turn them into monsters despite saying she wants to create a world where that won't happen? Again, lying for power. This includes turning herself into a monster to become more powerful despite her words about how beasts shouldn't rule humanity.

Why does she lie to her own army about Arianrhod despite raising issue over a false history? Power, hat trick.

Creating her own Church? Power, and because the teachings of the CoS tell her that she has to be responsible with her power and use it to protect her people. That's literally what the nobility was founded on, yet she rejects that despite saying she wants to put the world back to how it used to be. She views the idea of a leader sacrificing themselves for their people to be evidence of how twisted the world is, while she has no problem sacrificing others for her ideals.

Even her dismantling the nobility and installing a meritocracy is rooted in this, as she gets to pick who does what rather than filling those positions being outside of her power. Case-in-point Caspar's Japanese endings, where he's the head of the Imperial army but is said that the army is “often out of control.”

People have done shitty things for power, and Edelgard is the shittiest of them all.

But then I think about how Edelgard is portrayed in Azure Gleam, where she undergoes mental regression and is the puppet of Thales. As controversial as this is, I don't think it's out of nowhere. Houses proper said that Edelgard was merely a pawn of TWSITD in Verdant Wind, the route where the game goes into detail about who TWSITD really are. Edelgard had been manipulated by Thales (directly at least) since the experiments, using her father as a tool to do so. It was their narrative that turned a vulnerable Edelgard against the Church and towards the conquest of Fodlan.

Verdant Wind said this, Azure Gleam showed it. And considering how the flow of time is a thing in this game, even referenced in the Japanese name, I just can't help but feel that Edelgard suffers from arrested development. She is still the traumatized kid who was experimented on, saw her siblings die and was gaslit by her father. She will continue down the path her abusers set for her until the very end, and if she wins she turns the tables on them.

But she wants power. Power unrestrained by responsibilities and expectations due to her birth. She wants to be free to do whatever she wants with that power, make others believe what she tells them to, have who she wants perform whatever duties while she takes over not just Fodlan but the lands beyond she can take. Even Brigid's independence is done with her dictating the terms. As ruler she views her country as an extension of herself and is willing to use force to get what she wants says it's for the good of the country. Of Fodlan.

Rule through military force, hadou, which she is also supposed to represent.

[imobessesedfrfr]

~You're a Goddamn Liar!~

Spoilers for Zou and Wholecake :)

Backstory because why not:

Sanji and Reader both grew on baratie. Yet when Sanji leaves, reader doesn't. She decides that she wants to pursue her dream of becoming a world class dancer. Becoming known throughout the world. Reader memories are wiped Idk that's about it.

Reader is a df user, literally called the Devil-Devil fruit. It gives the user the power torture their opponent with their worst fears as well as gives them abnormal human strength and devil looking features. Also gives them a higher tolerance to pain and poisons.

______________________________________________________________

Scenario I

Click!

Click!

Click!

The sound of heels hit the pavement; three girls walking towards the center of the stage. Ready to entertain for their lives

the stadium filled with different foods and people. Big mom sitting square in the middle of the audience. The Vinsmoker family sitting right beside her. Ready for the show that was being presented to them. Sanji looking down at this stadium looking at the familar face that he hasn't seen in a little over two years.

In a different stand, there struggled two of the Straw hats. A trapped Luffy and Nami, struggling to get out. "Damnit! These chains are too tight!" said Nami as she moved around. Luffy sat there exhausted, the sea prism stone sucking out his energy. Two soldiers of the big mom army stood behind them.

"I thought it would be a proper wedding gift, inviting the most famous group of dancers in the new world to come celebrate this union," said Big Mom. "I heard one of them even has a Devil Fruit" she stated. Nami peaked at the stage right in front of them, seeing the familiar woman.

Nami kicked Luffy, trying to get his attention away from eating right now. "Luffy! Look! It's Y/N!" she motioned towards the stage. Still exhausted he looked up, "It's Show-Off! I was wondering how she was doing" he smiled, shouting towards her.

"SHOW-OFF!!" The women looked around confused. "UGH! Is someone here trying to insult us or something!!" said one of the women beside her. "How rude!!"

Sanji looked at the women before him, recognizing her almost immediately. 'Y/N, what is she doing here?!' the look of horror and confusion overcame his face. 'She has to get out of here, now!' yet he couldn't move. It would put her in even more danger!

Y/N looked around trying to find the source of that voice. 'Luffy?', it was strange hearing that voice after so long. It had been two years since she last saw the Straw Hats. "Show-off!! Come help us!!" Big Mom glared at Straw hats as their captain Luffy, yelled at one of the dancers. Nami recoiled as she felt Big Mom's glare at them, yet she felt like she had no choice.

Y/N was their last hope!

"Please, come help us!!" screamed Nami

______________________________________________________________

Scenario II

The Duo watched as Sanji beat Luffy into a bloody pulp. "Sanji..." the woman looked at him horrified. This isn't the Sanji she knew! He's an idiot and is sporantic. Yet, this is too far!

"You suck at this, Sanji!" she screamed at him as he served people. "You're supposed to make sure their drinks are refilled! Idiot!" she walked up to the table he just served and refilled their drinks, making small talk with them as well. Smiles all around, making sure that at the Baratie "Well, good thing I am not a waiter! I'm a chef!" The young girl sighed. "That's stupid! How are you gonna know people like your food if you don't ask them!" she yelled at him. Sanji tackled her to the ground and pulled her hair. "That's dumb! Are you saying my food is bad!?" he screamed at her. The two tussled and fought each other like a pair of rabid dogs, pulling each other's hair and punching each other in the face.

As the entire restaurant watched the chaos caused by these two children. "Sanji!!" yelled a familiar voice, the blond-haired boy tensed up by the voice. "You idiot!" a swift kick was given to Sanji. The poor boy crashing through a wall and knocking him out. "Hey! That's too far, don't you think Chef Zeff?!" the man gave a stern look towards her. "You too! You are rotten little girl!! You can't start fights here!! You'll drive away all the customers!!" the girl ran away from him, "Sanji! Are you okay!?"

"...Stop..it" she managed to mutter out "Sanji, stop it" he kept hitting his captain. Kick after kick, blow after blow. "Luffy! Fight back!" yelled Nami trying to have get through to luffy. "Sanji! I said" she began, her voice getting louder and louder as the fight kept going to between the two. "STOP IT!!"

Pulling the captain away from Sanji throwing him back towards Nami. "Hey!! This isn't about-"

"Shut up, Luffy!" she glared at Sanji, a cold look was given down towards him. Something that even when they would fight all the time when they were kids, he didn't give her. Without a second thought, she gave him a swift punch. Horns grew out of her head and wings from her back. Sanji let the blows hit him, of course he's not fighting back.

He still has morals after all

"You're a goddamn Liar!" she still hitting him through her tears. "After Two years!? This is how you turned out! An idiot and a liar! How would Zeff feel about this!?" he couldn't say anything he wanted to. All he did was let her hit him, let her get out all of her frustrations.

"I hate you, Sanji!!"

______________________________________________________________

Scenario III

The wind blew through the sails of the Baratiae, it was semi destroyed due to the fight with Don Krieg. Looking down as this Pirate, Monkey D Luffy, readied his ship for departure.

"What a pain" she said as the crew began to clean up the mess caused by him. "Hey" looking over her shoulder, she saw Sanji. Bloodied and bruised right behind her. "You alright?" he asked, she glared at him. "Shut up, Sanji!" she threw her leg over the railing walking towards him. Grabbing him by the shirt, "Why did you just jump in like that?! Don't you know you could've died!?" she shook him as he just accepted it. "Who said I would die? You have such little faith in me?" that pissed her off even more. "You're so dumb!" she pushed pass him and walking towards the inside of the restaurant.

In a swift movement, he hugged her. Embracing her in his arms, the warmth of his body so close to hers it made her heart jump. "I have to tell you something" the woman sighed, a sour expression overcoming her face. "gonna tell me that you are in love with me?" Sanji didn't respond to her, instead her flipped her around so that they were facing each other. "Not yet, but..." before he could finish the sentence. Luffy called out to him "Sanji! Hurry up! We gotta go" Sanji glared at his captain "Hold on idiot!"

She knew what he was going to say to her. As much as it hurts, she knows one way or another. He was going to leave and set out to sea. Doing the one and only thing that seemed rational, she straightened out the shirt she grabbed. Not being able to look at him in the eyes, she swiftly threw him towards his newfound captain.

"Hey! What the hell!?" before he lost sight of her face. A true smile jumped up on her face. "Get out of here, Sanji!" she turned away, leaning against the railing. "Go find all blue!" Zeff appeared next to her, a smile also appearing on his face. "Goodbye Sanji" he smiled as he watched the ship leave.

Turning his face towards the girl who he watched grow up into woman right next to him. The shine of tears streaming down her face, "You'll see him again" she wiped the tears away from her face. "So? It still hurts that I won't see him anymore" she sniffled a little bit. Trying to hide the sorrow she now felt.

"Damnnit, Zeff. This sucks!" she cried as the man she knew as her best and only friend. Sailed away from her.

______________________________________________________________

[emberwontremember]

so I’m writing a musical and I’m gonna start posting my character descriptions + other fun stuff! This is the background paragraph that gives you the rundown of some things that might not make a lot of sense later down the line without it. If you’re ever confused about something later in the scripts, refer back to this. I hope you enjoy!

In Love And War

A new musical by Ember

Background: Spoilers! Everyone dies (Womp Womp) This show takes place in a fantasy world, one akin to a DnD universe. This world is at war between humans and Orcs. The Humans and orcs have had high tensions for centuries, starting when the humans took land from the ogres (ancestors of Orcs) that they believed was rightfully theirs and they had a prophecy from the Blessed. (The god of the human’s most common religion) The prophecy of love and war told them to venture west to create new life. This prophecy was not completely wrong, as the orcs were born out of the humans and ogres breeding, but it also mentioned that treacherous loss would come from this. The first war between Ogres and humans lasted 13 years before the elders of each of the largest clans were able to create a peace treaty. This treaty created a boundary between the Orcs and Humans that could only be crossed with the proper documentation (Almost like a passport system) To avoid invasions. (Humans in the east, orcs mostly in the west) There are 2 main religions in this world. Orcs are mostly Klavish (They follow the Goddess) And humans are mostly Bulvadish (They follow the Blessed) There is also a less-ish followed religion called Caleism which is kind of like Judaism that the humans HATE and they kind of have to hide. It originated toward the middle regions. The humans specifically targeted those who looked more human and followed this religion, as it is a mix of Klavish and Bulvadish, and they see it as “Tainting” their esteemed human religion. They also target younger teen girls with these traits. I wonder why. Fairies, tieflings, Harpies, centaurs, and Western Vampires (Born vampire/children of vampires) are allies with the orcs. Forest fae, goblins, trolls, elves and Eastern vampires (Bitten) are allies with the humans. (The forest fae were originally allies with the orcs, and they were winning, but the humans hypnotized them with the help of the elven sorcerers into joining their side, changing the tide of the war and giving the humans the upper hand.) Before the fae joined the humans, the war wasn’t a big deal. If you weren’t in the very middle of the upper half of the continent, your life practically went on like normal, minus some areas having to plant gardens and get livestock because of import issues. But once they had the fae, creating bombs and weapons became easy because they could power them with their magic. You might notice that when our main cast families died all around the same time, and that is not a coincidence. This is commonly referred to as the “Fae affect” and calling someone fae means they may be lying. This occurred 10 years before most of our story takes place. Rune and Claire lived in the same village and were childhood friends/acquaintances. After this, the orcs were on a long losing streak. In recent years (Prior to the killing of the oaks ) the orcs had had a lot of retreats and over the next couple years they started recruiting more and more troops from more and more western regions. That is how Claire hears about the army and joins. Yeah that's pretty much it. Anything else you can figure out from script and blocking.

I am actually so insane about these silly little guys and I want to post more about them so please hear me out guys 🙏

[chronoccg]

A Sign

Motorized Vehicles zipped up, down, and all around one of the most crowded transit intersections of Biological Preserve 3184. The humans called it Koya Crossing in Shiano City, which was just adorable of them, but, in his own mind at least, Raiz liked to use the proper terms for things. Singularity had carefully ordered and organized all things after all, it would be downright ungrateful not to use Her system.   

Raiz stood beaming among the chaos. From the bottom of his dual motility actuators to the tippy top of his shiny chrome cranial protector, Raiz was three feet nine inches of perfectly proportioned precision. He existed for and embraced his most important of purposes. Keeping humans safe. They were wonderful creatures, but for whatever reason simply refused to comprehend the fragility of their biological processes, and thus needed some outside assistance in keeping said processes ongoing.

To accomplish this, he was equipped with three important tools. First and favorite, a large red octagonal sign excitedly declaring “Stop,” to any polite enough to read it. Second, his bright orange safety vest, lent to him by a considerate human after the last time he’d been plowed into by a large produce-vehicle. Goodness but he was glad he’d had his pain sensors turned off for that particular debacle. He’d *still* been shaking with reaction when he finished restoring from backup.

Waking up among rows upon rows of powered down copies of yourself was always a slightly surreal experience. Made worse by the existential uncertainty of wondering why it mattered that this body be destroyed before the others were activated. But he’d shaken it off with judicious use of his third and perhaps most necessary tool, a boundless sense of optimism that *today* would be the day someone actually listened to him.

Today was different. He could feel it in the warm sun, gleaming down through the atmosphere to grace his solar panels. He could feel it in the woosh of air from the passing cars as they cut much too close for comfort to both each other and his brand-new body, all suddenly swerving and turning to charge in the same direction, deeper into the city. He could feel it in the earth-shaking roar of the enormous tyrant lizard as it-hey what now?

Raiz turned and beheld a terrifying vision. Emerging from the glistening sap of a Lifeblood seed-Core, the beast towered above bus and truck. Its thick leathery head casually brushed aside solid metal streetlights as it strode down the road towards him, roving eyes searching for prey. It was terrible. It was destructive. It was… It was… too large to be properly certified for these transport lanes!

Knowing what he must do, Raiz ran directly towards the dinosaur and the awful mess it seemed intent on making. He waved his arms. He jumped up and down. He beeped shrilly at incredibly high ranges that caused the great head to wince and swing around to glare with murderous intent in his direction. He proudly presented his sign with its glaring admonishment, certain that this would be the moment when-

He woke up once more among his copies, last moments of his last existence playing onscreen in front of him. It showed an unthinkably large leathery foot coming down on an unfortunately destructible form of plastic and metal, scrap spraying untidily in all directions across the road. He’d gotten stepped on. Deliberately, stepped on. Now that was just rude. Raiz could stomach a lot of things, but a direct, blatant, and deliberate violation of traffic laws was not among them. 

Raiz threw up his arms in fury, calling out to Singularity for help, for power to right this wrong.

And he was answered.

-

In the center of the city the Rex stomped and crashed towards its goal, a manufacturing plant that would one day create armies of automatons to march across all that was left of nature on this world. Shock probes from defensive drones had as little effect on its thick hide as light rain, and it enjoyed the crunch they made between its jaws, if not the awful aftertaste as it spit them out.

Then it heard that sound again. That awful, high pitched, grating sound the stupid little thing it had crushed underfoot mere minutes ago had been making. It let loose a roar of irritation, swinging itself around to destroy whatever was causing it such pain. And paused. Coming down the street towards it was not another copy of the vexing noise-bot, but dozens, hundreds, swarms of the things boiling over each other and climbing across the walls of nearby buildings in their mad rush.

They ran directly towards the beast. They waved their arms. They jumped up and down. They brandished a small forests worth of bobbing red signs. And each and every one of them emitted that same terrible noise. The world itself dissolved in sound. The tyrannosaur screamed its outrage and pain to the sky, but even that was lost in the cacophony around it. Unable to take the onslaught, it turned and fled.

-

The people cheered.

Raiz had been right.

Today was the day.