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opalfelts · 4 years

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forgive me, i can only write snippets right now. i don’t have a title, but feel free to read at your leisure~

i was hoping this would fit somewhere in the symbruary prompts

(a/n: i didn’t frame this in any particular timeline from comic canon; you can interpret this anywhere from after The Hunger, PotS, or possibly the start of Costa’s 2016 run)

They’re back.

Where the symbiote is sore and hurt, Eddie’s deep laughter balms the lingering ache as they swing, leap, and catapult from building to building; bellies full of rich nutrients, no shame or fear to slink away in the shadows tethering them down. The other feels weightless, unfettered and free, and the landscape blurs into a cascade of scents, sounds, and sensations. It’s a joyous, heady feedback loop; they are one, they are Venom again, and for the remainder of the night, they accept the inundation until there is no beginning or end to their bodies.

Hours later, in all the excitement, the symbiote can feel the stirring of exhaustion from their other half, so just before dawn, Venom slinks inside the window of their tiny apartment, barely illuminated by soft city lights. The space is somewhat of an organized chaos; an unmade bed with sheets strewn about, a cluttered desk littered with papers and books and pens, vacant and empty walls. It’s a stark contrast to the symphony of life and warmth from within them, blossoming and painting vibrant color to their dark, lonely corners.

The Other slowly uncoils its mass down to Eddie’s torso, but retains control and shuffles his laden legs over to his mattress. With no resistance to his limbs, he lets it move him, ready to collapse from the high aftermath. The Other is abuzz, unsure what to do with itself, and settles to savor the natural, perfect respite.

Eddie agrees with a tired nod and grin, “Simply sublime, I take it you had a good time?”

It involuntarily gives him a squeeze in return.

After rebonding, it feels like all they can do is revel in their connection, falling back through layers of familiar comfort and security and touch after so long without them. Their period of separation without each other, and the emotional prostration which came attached, seems to all fall away, just for the moment, and what's left in the wake morphs into a feeling less cold and outcast.

The Other positively flows; expanding with goodness and delicious happiness in the confines of its host. Even after having Eddie twice again, the energy is akin to something new and vital. Desperately, it clings.

Unconsciously, Eddie’s body responds to the symbiote’s restlessness, and answers with a heart beating more rapidly, his lungs emptying and inflating as if there isn’t enough air in the room to fill him. Like a well, the affection fills and fills and then spills over, until its enveloped in the upswell of overwhelming emotions. It’s terrifying and exhilarating, and the pressure is increasingly uncomfortable.

Eddie grimaces from sharp jolt of pain which surprises them both, and his hand comes up to rub at the raw spot across his ribs where the symbiote is latched a bit too tightly from the inside.

A bruise blooms angry and red above his abdomen.

Startled, it immediately twists within his chest cavity, steading the erratic pulse and healing the already fading injury. The electricity in the symbiote dampens apologetically, and it nervously inspects Eddie’s other vital organs to ensure no additional damage.

Rousing an instinct to hide and flee, it guiltily sinks into itself, wallowing and squashing down the inferno of its elation. Rejection and regret stems, even in its silence.

It shies away instantly, anticipating judgement, but no matter where it looks, it finds none.

Instead, Eddie chuckles, his face clear and forgiving, “Oh darling, never be sorry for what you feel.” There’s tension in Eddie’s posture, but a patient smile is in the corners of his eyes, “It hurts when you pull away from me.”

“Let me see you,” Eddie gestures softly, and it shivers to lock itself away irretrievably.

“It’s quite alright, come out. Can I see you?”

Following an uncomfortable subsequent amount of time, it hesitantly billows and coalesces a tangible head with two milky eyes, just like it knows how Eddie prefers. It hovers slightly afar, tentative, its form rippling as it tries to calm the uncertainty and the apprehension, and it doesn’t know how to approach him.

The Other looks into blue eyes ringed with fatigue, yet sparkling with hope and restraint, all mixing.

“It’s OK,” Eddie is the first to reach out, fingertips warm against its mandible, rubbing in soothing, slow circles, and it deflates somewhat underneath the touch. He repeats, firmly, “It’s OK, I’ve got you. Just as I take comfort from you, I can give it back. Talk to me, please?”

The symbiote shudders and Eddie remains resolved, expression lessening, wanting his other to understand that it’s his turn to reassure and offer careful handling, “I know you’re sorry, but I should also apologize to you. For making you feel this way, for renouncing what we had created together.”

A question breaks wordlessly; the symbiote’s frozen stare fixates on the vulnerability and every depth of devotion etched in Eddie’s face. In its doubt, he speaks with even more conviction.

“I trust you. I trust you with my body. Implicitly. No one has ever...touched me the way that you do.”

He holds its gaze steadily, pauses, and moves them closer. His words hang pregnant in the air and it feels as though its burning, so much of the icy anxiety melting away under the heat of his conflagration.

“Reciprocally, I want you to be able to trust me. Our bond, our oath...I want you to trust that I’m not leaving you. And to realize, as well as I do, that the part of myself I fear is not for my body, but for my heart. I don’t wish for us to live and love in fear.”

The Other agrees easily, fervently. What it can’t convey in words, it illustrates with their trillion shared nerves, welling contentment in his brain as if brightening an unlit room.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Eddie clarifies, then hums, “I missed you.”

Eddie reaches out to it, expectant, and it closes any distance between them, wrapping and ensconcing his body until only his head is left open to the air, and there’s so much relief. Like a blanket, it covers them both, stretching over the fortress of Eddie’s build. His muscles go lax, all features soft, and it thinks to itself that it may adore more in this sort of moment than any other.

He pressed their hand to his lips as the symbiote holds him, his breath is damp and warm against the cool slick of its makeshift skin.

For a while, they simply breathe. Eddie’s eyelids flutter some time after, and he yawns before curling comfortably on his side with his arm pillowing his head.

It wants to cement this moment, stitch it thread by thread, so it can never lose this again. It roils in his chest, tasting his strong heartbeat, aglow with sentiment and melting into the comfort of his proximity. Everything feels too small and too big.

And in its smallness and its enormity both, in the quiet space of their shared consciousness, before he drifts under the veil of sleep, it echoes.

Missed you too, Eddie.

#my fanfic stuff #venom comics #eddie brock #venom symbiote #symbrock #venom

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thecreaturecodex · 5 years

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Qlippoth Lord, Obox-Ob

“Obox-ob, Prince of Vermin” © Michael Jaecks, accessed at his deviantArt page here

[Commissioned by @justicegundam82. I feel bad for both Obox-Ob and James Jacobs. Obox-ob was originally from Jacobs’ homebrew game, but he was brought in to canon D&D by the “Demonomicon of Iggwilv” series of articles written by Jacobs for Dragon Magazine. Too bad that within five years, Paizo lost the rights to publish Dragon, and all of their original content stayed with Wizards when Paizo went off to make their Pathfinder setting. Worse, in 4e, Obox-ob was killed off permanently in backstory (as opposed to in 3.5, where he died and was resurrected in his current weaker form). Bits and pieces of Obox-ob turn up in lots of other Pathfinder villains, like Rovagug, Yamasoth and Mazmezz, but the original is currently a bit of IP gathering dust.

Speaking of bits and pieces... in my home games, I had a demon lord similar to Obox-ob who predated his public unveiling, Khargaz. Khargaz was also a deposed monstrous vermin with multiple heads, and I was working on updating him to PFRPG when @justicegundam82 commissioned me to do Obox-ob, which would make him rather redundant. I have plans to focus on other aspects of Khargaz. And bits of my original Khargaz lore made it into this version of Obox-ob, namely making his rivalry with another vermin focused demon as opposed to the Prince of Demons (after all, there is no Demogorgon in PFRPG, and demonic hierarchy is much looser).]

Qlippoth Lord, Obox-Ob CR 22 CE Outsider This immense horror looks something like an inverted scorpion. It carries its body on a thicket of twitching legs, from which emerge three bulbous stingers, each dripping venom. Rising from its back like a tail is a long neck on which are stacked three leering, skull-like heads, each with a whipping tongue protruding from between jagged teeth.

Obox-ob Prince of Vermin, the Deposed Concerns monstrous vermin, revenge, spite Domains Chaos, Destruction, Evil, Vermin Subdomains Entropy, Fear, Rage, Venom* Worshipers fleshwarped creatures, maniacs, the vengeful Minions augnagar qlippoths, bebiliths, thulgant qlippoths Symbol a jawless human skull with a scorpion tail threaded through the sockets Favored Weapon scorpion whip Obedience eat a live arthropod while planning how to take revenge on someone who wronged you. Gain a +4 profane bonus to saves against poison Boons 1: summon swarm 2/day; 2: poison 2/day; 3: disintegrate 2/day *clerics of Obox-ob use the Venom subdomain to modify the Vermin domain

Obox-ob, the Deposed, is a qlippoth lord who has suffered crushing defeat and retains his power through sheer spite. In a time before time, he was the most powerful of the qlippoth lords, but he was slain at the hands of his rival Mazmezz and was reduced in stature as his body was reforming. Even more humiliating, Mazmezz abandoned the qlippoth for the allure of the migration of souls and became a demon, and in the war between demons and qlippoths was instrumental in thwarting Obox-ob a second time. Obox-ob has waited untold millennia for a second rematch, and is determined that he will be the victor this time. Unlike many qlippoth lords, he is encouraging of cults in his honor, and his appearance has changed with time to its current, human-skulled shape. Some sages believe Obox-ob is on the verge of becoming a true demon himself.

Obox-ob claims to be the progenitor of augnagar and thulgant qlippoths, and he is one of the few forces that can prevent augnagars from immediately killing and devouring each other. Obox-ob is rarely found outside of his sanctum, which is a stinking fen filled with poisonous vapors, jagged rocks and ravenous, monstrous vermin. When he does go abroad, he does so in astral form rather than risking his physical body. He is especially interested in the enemies of demonkind, and is manipulative enough that he is currently attempting to bait mortal heroes into killing Mazmezz for him.

In combat, Obox-ob opens with his horrific appearance, which causes mortal flesh to take a life of its own as a ravenous parody of blood drinking insects. He delights in melee, injecting mind-melting venom with his stings and pure entropy with his tongues, and few are the enemies of Obox-ob who escape unscarred. He uses his magical abilities primarily if foes keep their distance, and is fond of using telekinesis to force enemies into terrain hazards or to simply crush them under a barrage of thrown boulders. If in astral form, he fights to the “death”, but is not willing to risk total destruction or the humiliation of rejuvenating yet again.

Obox-ob CR 22 XP 615,000 CE Huge outsider (chaos, evil, extraplanar, qlippoth, qlippoth lord) Init +10; Senses darkvision 60 ft., Perception +36, true seeing Aura cloak of chaos (Will DC 26), discordant drone (40 ft., Will DC 31) Defense AC 40, touch 18, flat-footed 34 (-2 size, +6 Dex, +22 natural, +4 deflection) hp 455 (26d10+312); regeneration 15 (lawful) Fort +24, Ref +25, Will +26 DR 20/lawful and good; Immune cold, death effects, mind-influencing effects, poison; Resist acid 30, electricity 30, fire 30; SR 33 Offense Speed 40 ft., climb 40 ft., fly 60 ft. (good) Melee 3 stings +36 (3d6+12/19-20 plus poison), 3 tongues +34 (1d8+6 plus implant entropy) Space 15 ft.; Reach 15 ft. Special Attacks create spawn, horrific appearance Spell-like Abilities CL 22nd, concentration +30 Constant—cloak of chaos (DC 26, self only), true seeing At will—astral projection, greater dispel magic, greater teleport, telekinesis (M) (DC 23), unholy blight (M) (DC 22) 3/day—cloudkill (M) (DC 23), creeping doom (DC 25), empowered disintegrate (M) (DC 24), symbol of insanity (DC 25), quickened telekinesis (M) (DC 23) 1/day—implosion (DC 27), polymorph any object (DC 26), summon (qlippoth of CR 20 or lower, 100%, 9th level) *M = Obox-ob can use the mythic version of this spell in his sanctum Statistics Str 34, Dex 23, Con 34, Int 23, Wis 24, Cha 27 Base Atk +26; CMB +40; CMD 56 (66 vs. trip) Feats Cleave, Combat Reflexes, Critical Focus, Empower SLA (disintegrate), Great Cleave, Improved Bull Rush, Improved Critical (sting), Multiattack, Nimble Moves, Power Attack, Quicken SLA (telekinesis), Staggering Critical, Stunning Critical Skills Acrobatics +35 (+39 jumping), Bluff +37, Climb +36, Fly +22, Intimidate +34, Knowledge (arcana) +32, Knowledge (nature) +35, Knowledge (planes) +35, Knowledge (religion) +32, Perception +36, Sense Motive +36, Spellcraft +32, Stealth +27 Languages Abyssal, Aklo, Protean, Undercommon SQ no breath, qlippoth lord traits Ecology Environment any (the Abyss) Organization unique Treasure triple standard Special Abilities Create Spawn (Su) A creature reduced to 0 Int by Obox-ob’s poison transforms into an augnagar qlippoth. This qlippoth is not under Obox-ob’s control, but is favorably disposed towards him. A creature with 18 or more HD is transformed into a thulgant qlippoth instead. This is a transmutation effect. A creature so transformed can be restored with a successful break enchantment or similar effect against DC 32, but if it is restored to its own body, it is still comatose at 0 Int without a restoration or similar effect. Discordant Drone (Su) Any round where Obox-ob moves at least five feet, his plates scrape together hideously, causing all creatures that can hear to be confused for one round if they fail a DC 31 Will save. This is a sonic, mind-influencing effect. Implant Entropy (Su) A creature struck by Obox-ob’s tongue attack must succeed a DC 31 Fortitude save or take temporary 1d4 negative levels. This is not a negative energy effect, as they are created by pure entropy, and death ward or similar effects do not protect a creature. A creature under the effect of protection from chaos, dispel chaos, shield of law or a similar effect is immune to this ability. After 24 hours, a creature suffering from any negative levels caused by this ability must succeed a DC 31 Fortitude save or they become permanent. A creature with negative levels equal to its HD is utterly destroyed, and can only be brought back to life with a miracle, wish or true resurrection—even then, the caster must succeed a DC 33 caster level check or the spell fails. Creatures with the chaos subtype are immune to this effect. The save DC is Charisma based. Horrific Appearance (Su) When Obox-ob uses its horrific appearance, all creatures within 120 feet must succeed a DC 31 Will save or their flesh begins to turn into ravenous vermin. A creature that succeeds the save is staggered for 1 round as their flesh revolts. A creature that fails the save takes 120 points of damage, and an entropic tick swarm with a fly speed of 30 ft. (good) is created in its square. This swarm exists for 1 minute before decomposing into a foul-smelling sludge. A creature can only be affected by Obox-ob’s horrific appearance once every 24 hours. This is a mind-influencing effect, and the save DC is Charisma based. Poison (Ex) Injury—sting; save Fort DC 35; duration 1/round for 6 rounds; effect 1d6 Int drain; cure 2 saves. The save DC is Constitution based.

#obox-ob #qlippoth #demon #D&D #pathfinder rpg

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royal--guard--02-deactivated · 7 years

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Some Avatar AU ideas (really long but Please Ask Me About Them)

I have a lot of these?? I know it’s a lot but if you see one you like Please Ask Me About It I Would Appreciate It A Whole Lot, It Would Make My Day

- Zhao is careful. The Blue Spirit is caught, and Aang remains so. Katara and Sokka survive their illness, but are never quiet the same, and suffer permanent damage to their internal orans for the rest of their lives, as well as symptoms of early dementia. Zuko is tortured for his treason, given the greatest punishment of all: he is left to live utterly humiliated, blind, mutilated, and armless, doomed to be trapped and tortured in a prison made hell until the day he dies. Aang is left permanently on the brink of death, always inches away from starvation. He no longer hopes for freedom, merely death, that perfect painless peace, so he may be reborn and this ruined iteration can finally rest. Toph never even hears the name Aang, though she is embroiled within a small and dying resistance force. Katara and Sokka take care of Momo and Appa through work in a nearby town, kept from Aang by the intense secrecy surrounding the Avatar's whereabouts. They have looked and looked and looked- it's like he vanished off the face of the planet. They can't go back home; the waterbenders have met the same fate as the airbenders. The earthbenders, what little there are left, scurry and hide like rats beneath the cities they once ruled and loved. Ozai has won. There is no one left to disagree.

- Bending is not a human trait. Back when the world was new, four major races ruled: The merpeople of water, the centaurs of earth, the drakes of fire, and the harpies of air. Merpeople were covered in scales, with long, powerful tails and rows and rows of teeth and arms far too long for comfort. They had flat, almost non-existent noses and huge, solid iridescent eyes that looked like the purest of pearls. Centaurs had human torsos, but the bottom halves of equines from the neck down; they had manes that went all the way down to the base of their hooved-half's neck. They had the ears of equines, and eyes strangely round and colorless. If their hooved-half had horns, so did they. Drakes were quadrupedal and scaled, with long tails often ending in spikes or other weapon-like attributes. They had vestigial wings, mostly leathery, but very rarely feathery. They had long snounts filled with shark-like teeth that could grow back no matter how many times they were lost. They had horns, often massive, of many different shapes (but mostly curved back), with jaggedness or off-shoots usually connotating the ability to breath and control lightning. Harpies were human-like in shape, but were covered in feathers and had digitigrade legs that were feathered on the thighs but more scaled and bird-like below, with very bird-like feet. Their arms were much the same- feathered to the elbow, and scaled and bird-like from then one, with only four claw-tipped fingers on each hand. They also had massive wings, though they alone could not hold them up- a harpy that could not bend was a flightless one. Their faces had half-formed beaks and large, solid eyes and no ears, merely ear slits. But all of the First Races, immortal and powerful as they were, were full of such terrible hate. The earth withered under their battles, crumbled beneath centuries of war. So the spirits bound together, and with all of their power, raised something new from the fabric of the world: humans. Aware of what made the First Races so terrible, they made humans different: they held no power over the world besides their own hands, and more importantly, they could die. And the humans spread. Over every inch of the earth they crawled, finding homes in the nooks and crannies of the earth the First Races' destruction had wrought. But they did not spread merely among their own. Half-things began to exist, creatures of terrible power that could die like mere humans. And they spread, and soon benders were half as common as humans- part mortal, part immortal beings who could have any amount of either blood as long as they had both. They are born human, save for one identifying thing (flimsy, transparent scale patches on legs and webbed feet for merpeople, soft hooves for centaurs, horn nubs for drakes, and featherless winglets for harpies), but as they grow and their powers begin setting, they grow less and less human in appearance. You can tell a benders power from their form- the less human, the stronger. And indeed, in this way benders are superior to the First Races; while they withered and grew ill when their powers were hindered, benders merely become more human-like and none the worse for wear. Benders take on the forms of their powerful predecessors in strange ways. Waterbenders only take on tails instead of legs in the water, and only if their bending is strong enough. The stronger a waterbender is, the longer they can submerge without air; it is even said the most powerful of waterbenders have gills (though no such thing has been seen in decades). On land, they merely have webbed feet and patches of scales on their legs. Due to the human mouth not being half as big as necessary to fit all a merperson's teeth in, young waterbenders just growing their first sharp teeth often have some pulled. For a short time when they are first growing in, a tooth removed will not grow back, and so there is a small window for this measure to be taken. Waterbenders have excellent dark-vision, but are often colorblind. Some develop a small illisium (that glowy thing female anglerfish have on their heads to attract prey), but it's very rare. Earthbenders come in two main categories: bipedal and quadrupedal. Bipedal earthbenders are weaker than their more centaur-like brethren. They have hooves and a tail and usually fur from the waist down. Equine ears are not unusual but not particularly common. Otherwise, they are human in appearance (though black, too big irises are not too uncommon either). Quadruped earthbenders are often nigh identical to the centaurs of old, though missing the ears or eyes is not altogether uncommon. Earthbenders are all born two-legged; the transition from bipedal to quadrupedal is often very painful and arduous. Tradition calls it the cost of such mastery over the very earth itself. The process usually takes a week, but can take anywhere from four days to fourteen, and the entire time the earthbender is racked with monstrous growing pains. People say that the time your transformation takes you is proportional to how powerful the earthbender is. Firebenders are strange; they range from entirely bipedal to a more gorilla-like gait (walking on knuckles and back legs) to mostly quadrupedal, though that's found only in the royal family. Their horns follow the same rules as the drakes. A weak firebender has merely a few patches of scales, while one of, say, the royal family will be covered head to toe in them. Their facial structure depends on the strength of the firebender in question; a weak one will have a mostly human face, likely with slitted eyes and definitely with pointed teeth (a trait found in even the most human of firebenders), while a strong one will have a longer snout-like face with drake-like eyes and teeth. Airbenders always have digitigrade, harpy-like legs, though all other traits (save the wings) are entirely flexible. Unlike the airbenders of canon, these airbenders often keep their hair around shoulder-length; this is because ear slits are super gross and weird looking, and no one wants to see them. After humans and benders populated the world, the spirits decided to remove the First Races- they had served their purpose, paving the way for the Young Race, and were now nothing but purposeless war machines. But with the existence of benders, they had to make a choice: destroy them for their power? Or preserve them for their humanity? An idea was put forth: by creating a being with blood from all powers, they could create a peacekeeper, someone to keep the power of the young in check, someone who embodied how the world could harmonize. And so, with all their power and might, the spirits acted, and the First Races vanished off the face of the earth. And a child was born to two benders (of what type has been lost to time), one with horn nubs and winglets and scales and hooves. Aang always knew he was the Avatar. It was... more than a little hard to ignore. He had grown up lonely; no one wanted to play with a mis-matched child who could do too much too young, who never really looked human, who looked scary with power. Gyatso loved him, and made sure to keep him company... but one old man wasn't enough for a social creature like Aang. He tried to be upbeat, but sometimes it was hard, when you felt less like a person and more like an idol, kept on the shelf and seen but not heard, prayed to but not listened to. He left in the night when he heard he would be separated from his favorite person in the world, and though he could have flown himself, something in him couldn't leave Appa behind. It paid off, when he had at least one friend from home left, a century displaced from everyone he had ever known. He has a long, thin snout that ends in a sharp, short beak, great big black eyes like pools of space-stuff, and horns that even at age twelve show great power. They sweep back like the reins of a horse, and are entirely smooth and without offshoots. His deer-like ears are constantly turning and twitching. His hunched but bipedal body is mostly covered in soft, small feathers like grey down, but his stomach and chest are protected by baby-blue scutes that trail down all the way to the tip of his tail. He has legs like a harpy's, but they end in the dainty, split hooves of a deer. His tail is long and whip-like, and patches of feathers are missing on it to be replaced by yellow and orange scales. Its tipped by a scorpion-like stinger, though he does not know if there's venom in it (how would he check?). His arms are very long and he can comfortably walk on all fours, though he's slanted downwards a good deal. His five-fingered hands are tipped with long, but dulled claws the same black as the rest of his hands and forearms. He has very big wings, the feathers ending in white tips, shaped like the long, fast wings of a tern. Sokka and Katara lived a life about the same as canon, save Katara's penchant for catching fish the 'fun' way. Sokka made a point not to eat those fish, because he did not want to think about how many teeth she had (far too many, in his opinion) and what those teeth had done to the fish (or could do to a person). Sokka is a little afraid of Katara in this world. She has a sclera, but no pupils, and her irises are like liquid rainbow they're so iridescent. Her arms aren't that much longer than normal, but she's got more than enough in claws and teeth to make up for it. She strong enough to grow a tail in water, but not gills, and her scales make a nebula of deep blue and sea prune purple and dark, deep green. Her fins and webbings are a simple light blue. Sokka is a human, and is perfectly fine with it. If it weren't for his sister, he'd be an awful shitstain about benders, and even being the brother of one he's still not overly fond of them. Toph is a centaur, through and through, the spitting image of a First Race- she's a mountain goat, specifically. Small, white, fluffy, tiny curved horns, even her cloven hooves are adorable; she looks harmless if you've never been to the ring. If you have, you'd know she's the most powerful and dangerous earthbender of the century, and that her small horns are sharp as daggers- and she's not afraid to get dirty. Zuko is a firebender, obviously, but he didn't receive a scar- his wings were ripped off. Being vestigial, it doesn't affect functionality, but having entire limbs ripped off tends to have aftereffects, namely pain. Pain, and shame- the fact that firebender wings are vestigial means they are often used as a form of punishment. Having notches in them is a mark of shame- removed? Reserved only for those not good enough to die. His scales are crimson, with dull pink scutes (Azula always says he looks ugly as a scar). His wings were a shade redder. They were leathery as his fathers. But shame is not new to Zuko. While the rest of his family (save his human mother) are perfect quadrupeds, he's had to train himself just to walk on his knuckles, and has a heavy upward slant. His wings were never very big- on the small side of average, really. His tail is only four feet long, nearly doubled by Azula's and tripled by Ozai's (though age is definitely a factor there), and it ends in a simple ivory three-pronged blade-plate, a little bit wibbly and curved, a mockery of the fire nation symbol. His claws are a little above average size and ivory, not the huge royal obsidian of his family. But his horns are the biggest disgrace. Only one and a half feet, straight back and slightly curved down, not a rough patch or hint of an off-shoot on them. The horns of a coward, Ozai said. Only meant for keeping your own neck safe- though yours are hardly long enough to do even that. When Azula was young and feeling extra mean, sometimes she'd grab them and ride him like a bull as he roared and fought to get her off. Now, for reference: he's stronger than the average firebender, but not by much. Average horn length is a bit more than a foot. Tail length is around three feet. Most firebenders are bipedal. The royal family is royal for being purest of blood, aka Strong As Goddamn Shit. So yes, he brings much shame to the family- but most people outside the family would be somewhat frightened by him. He's missing patches of scales, most notably on his face- long ago, Ozai clawed off the scales on the left side of his face, and they never grew back. When Zuko was younger, it was a terrible source of shame. He got older, and realized the visible lack of power brought more shame to Ozai than him, and felt better about it.

- The Avatar is a being born of four soulmates (usually of the non-romantic type), one from each nation, who can fuse to create the Avatar and can transfer thoughts simply by touching, and even boost each others power levels by even only two of them being around each other. They have no identifying marks, and when one dies, so do the other three, so the Avatar's icons even knowing their own identity doesn't always happen. They are all born at the exact same moment. To compensate for this rarity and difficulty in even forming the Avatar, benders are much, much rarer. Rare enough, in fact, that before the airbenders were destroyed, every bender upon turning 16 was tested by that lands spiritual leaders. It is 14 years before this world's equivalent of the canon start of the show. A woman in the hidden places beneath the mountains of the Southern Air Temple, last refuge of the last Air Nomads, dies peacefully in her sleep of old age, never knowing who she was. So too do three others, all of different nations. They are all old, and no one takes notice. Four are born in the same bright instant, also of different nations. 14 years later, and Aang escapes the caverns, young and naive to the horrors of war. He's curious, and figures water as air's sister element would be most welcoming, so he flies south with Appa. He meets Katara and Sokka, and strength floods their veins just from standing close and foreign thoughts fill their heads when they touch and suddenly Aang's destiny, why he felt so strongly he had to run away, becomes clearer than the purest ice. They find a ship, lost and frozen. A flare goes up. A 14 year old banished prince, who left home disgraced and mutilated at age 11, finally lays eyes on two halves of his whole ticket home. There's a fight. It doesn't last very long. But Zuko feels strangely strong. He attributes it to adrenaline, to hope, to anything that won't desolate the very purpose of his quest. He does not touch the airbender as he takes him prisoner (for this is the last airbender- who else could be the Icon of Air). Aang escapes with Katara and Sokka and Appa's help. They travel to the earth kingdom. And it's a lost cause, blindly wandering, searching for the rush of proximity to another icon in a country bigger than any other, but they get lucky, and at the Earth Rumble VI Aang gets on stage and grabs Toph's arm and thoughts swarm each other's heads. Toph throws him off the stage and meets him below and asks him what the fuck is going on, and after excited explanations the Icon of Earth joins their ratty gang. But they all know what comes next. They're stronger than ever before together, but the Avatar can't exist without their fourth and final piece. Upon a realization had late at night, Aang convinces the group to wait. Zuko's been hunting them for months. He won't fail them now. Sure enough, he comes- ponytail and fancy clothes gone, riding a thin ostrichhorse with his uncle, a gaunt look heavy on both their faces- desperate to go home through any means necessary. But Aang is faster than him, and though Zuko's wearing gloves and long sleeves, Aang darts forward and puts his hand on scarred skin and thoughts crash into him like a wildfire. Zuko can no longer deny it. Iroh, who has suspected since he first saw the too-large blast of fire Zuko made in his fight with the Avatar, is supportive and encouraging and convinces him to go back after Zuko runs away. The four Icons finally meet as allies. One problem- they have no idea how to make the Avatar. Iroh tells them it's total trust and opening their minds to each other and Zuko storms away again, because he's a child and also was definitely planning on betraying them all. But he makes up his mind- if he can hide his plan from them, he can convince them to go to the Fire Nation to fight Ozai- and there, he'll turn them in, earning his honor and his father's love. But that means clearing all the thoughts of such a betrayal from his mind, and over time, he starts to believe what he's trying to convince the others he believes. He runs away one night, unable to handle the realization that one can't actually lie in their own head- it just becomes truth over time. He has to make a choice- who is he loyal too? His father obviously, he thinks- but his father, who burned half an eleven-year-old's face off, who banished him for what he had hoped was forever- is he worth fighting for? Of course, says the son of Ozai, subject of the Fire Nation, Crown Prince to the throne. Not in the slightest, says the young boy with friends who care for him, who at some point and entirely without his consent made him care about them too, who loves his uncle and misses him mom and has traveled all around the globe, who knows intimately the horrors of what war leaves behind. Zuko makes his choice.

Please give me thoughts?

#fucko #sorry this is so long?? but i just really wanted to get this out there

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