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birbthebird · 1 year

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YEARN

[Lego Monkie Kid]

[NSFW warning]

[Disclaimer: Reader is fem here]

Sun Wukong sat on his couch, watching the show in front of him. Half of his mind was paying attention to the screen ahead of him but the other half was daydreaming about you and him recreating the scene in front of him.

It was a lovey-dovey movie about two characters finding out they’re soulmates destined to be with each other and travel around the world to find each other. It was cliché in the Monkey Kings opinion but he couldn’t help but relate to it a little.

The Great Sage traveled all around the world a majority of his life with no one by his side after the death of his friends, the isolation made him desperate. Searching for a lover to fill his lonely soul and be his queen, he had many lovers in the past but never once did he feel that ‘spark’ that two fated lovers feel when seeing each other for the first time. He thought it’d come with time had he stayed with his partners but it always ended in vain.

Then the time came when he had to find a successor and met MK along with his group of friends, who were actually reincarnations of his old friends in his prime. Such a small world, something the great Sage thought to himself solemnly. A small world but it seems so big when he isn’t able to find his beloved.

Yet just when he was ready to finally let go of his desires, he found you.

A being so divine and so beautiful he thought he was hallucinating, but here you were. In all his glory, standing in front of him with a smile so glorious it could have even the most sinful of demons would repent from seeing your shining person. And the feeling he was chasing for had finally come to him— he couldn’t breath, as if his breath had been lost in his throat. The warmth he felt in his body all transferred to the skin of his face, his heart raced like he was battling a demon but he wasn’t battling a demon, he was his fated one for the first time in all his immortal life.

You.

He knew he needed to woo you before anyone else could, he’d douse you in gold and the finest of jewels. He’d feed you the most fulfilling food that only the gods within the heavens had the privilege to eat. He’d write poetry of his love dedicated to you, only you.

Finding you felt as if everything he had gone through was worth it.

The pain, the agony, the grief, the challenges he had overcome was something he’d go through over and over and over again if it met being graced by your loveliness.

You had been an acquaintance with his successor and friends, stopping by to say hi and drop off things the group might need since you lived close to MK. The fated day you both had met was after the invasion of the Spider Queen, you had ran to MK and his friends at the border to make sure if everyone was okay.

Right before he was about to transform into a hawk and fly away, your voice piqued his interest and when he turned around that’s when he saw you— his fated one.

From that day, his courting attempts were more than obvious of his intentions with you. He’d stop by any chance he’d get to see MK as an excuse, but as soon as his eyes laid on you, he’d turn his attention to you immediately.

“Hey [Y/N]! Funny seeing you here!”

Sun Wukong said excitedly, feeling the butterflies in his stomach flutter around happily.

“We’re here too y’know!” A less then pleased pigsy shouted from behind, making the Monkey turn around irritated.

“Yeah— hey, wassup. Anyways— how have you been, [Y/N]? I heard a new bakery opened if you wanna check it out with me!”

The desperate ape would find any opportunity to hangout with you, any chance to get the two of alone and away from the group so your attention would be on him and only on him. He’d spark up any conversation to find out more about you and in his monkey mind, the more info he gets about you— a greater chance for him to swoon you and make you his.

He wants to be the night and shining armor that saves you from any danger and sweeps you off your feet. He daydreams like school girl at the thought of you kissing his face all over after he saved you from a terrifying demon. When gave even the slightest hint of reception to his attempts, he would be smiling like an idiot and would be jumping up and down in the air in his head.

Wukong chuckled, he could feel the blush rise up to his cheeks as he thought of more…interesting thoughts about you.

His mind wondered deeper as he thought of claiming you his, he’d trace your skin with his tongue and leaves traces of hickeys for everyone to see. You’d moan symphonies of his name for everyone to hear as he fucks you raw and kissed you passionately. God, his touch starved self would wish for you to grip on his hair tightly whilst he held you close as he thrusts into your cunt with his cock. Your slick walls would clamp on his cock as he thought of filling your womb with his seed and see it grow with his kids. He’d gripped your hips tight enough to leaves bruises as he shooter strings of his cum into you.

Wukong drooled at the thought as he felt a pent in his pants grow, his mind no longer paying attention to the movie coming to an end. Wukong excitedly waits for the day you’d be his and return his feelings, until then, his entire being would continue to yearn for you.

Just as he would make you yearn for him the same as him.

#lego monkie kid #reader insert #x reader #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong #lmk #lmk wukong

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mythicalartistx · 7 months

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So people blame Terra....

And it's not his fault.

Like essentially he wanted to do good and he wanted to help people.

Maleficent manipulated him like she did with Riku.

Terra and KH1 Riku are actually similar

Xehanort was probably a mentor he looked up to and he didn't know he was bad. Like from the viewer everyone is like he screams bad guy it's Xehanort— but Terra didn't know this.

Xehanort planted the seeds in his head and had him use darkness. Though Darkness isn't inherently evil, Eraqus was only worried.

Because of DR events where the darkness killing all of Eraqus and Xehanort's friends, Eraqus was worried for Terra. Xehanort , however, by experiencing that and seeing that went astray after the fact. Eraqus however knew this about Xehanort.

Maybe he thought he changed with putting Ventus in his care.

But because of DR events, Eraqus was worried and wanted him to be safe (he viewed him like a son) and would rather him just stay at the land of departure.

That's why he tasked Aqua with watching him. But at kh3 Eraqus admits he shouldn't have done what he did.

First seeing BBS you think oh he's a bad teacher when actually he's one of the better ones. He's just worried they will turn out like what happened in his and Xehanort's past. He only knew darkness as bad at this point too, they didn't have anyone like Riku who is in the light but also used Darkness for good

He keeps Ven sheltered, asks Aqua to bring them back and watch over them, and has Terra go out to prove Eraqus is wrong.

But by having them leave, Xehanort takes advantage of it.

Eraqus admits he was a foolish teacher and asked so much of them.

The reasons Terra was different from Riku is that he knew that darkness was bad and didn't want to use it. He then uses darkness to protect Ven something Riku probably would have done and that's when Eraqus realizes what he did was sorta wrong too and that he shouldn't have raised his hand against them.

However, Xehanort, takes that opportunity to attempt and kill him as Eraqus hides in Terra's heart.

Xehanort set the three of them on a path that led to distrust and separation.

It's no one's initial fault. It's bad circumstances.

After the final battle, Aqua saves Terra by sending him and her armor to the world of light.

And before anyone says she shouldn't of done that because he ends up causing his problems with Xehanort obtaining his body, Aqua didn't know that would happen.

Literally none of the characters knew the outcome of things. They didn't know Xehanort was filled with darkness, trying to sway them. Ventus lost his memories from being split from Vanitas.

They trusted their master for some reason let Xehanort around, that's the only thing I honestly really question.

He probably was just wanting to reconnect with their tragic yaoi

I see people hate on Aqua too but it's not her fault. She didn't really let being Master go to her head, she just wanted to do what was right and what she was told. Again because of separation there was distrust.

Anyone it's just Xehanort's plan, no one is at fault.

#kingdom hearts #kh #wayfinder trio #wayfinder #terra #terra kh #ventus #ven #ventus kh #ven kh #aqua kh #aqua #birth by sleep #kh discussion #discussion post

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ghost-proofbaby · 3 months

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It seems that he picks up on her internal battle before it’s even ended. He sees through all that self doubt, and with a heavy sigh, holds out his palms. “Hand them here.” She instinctively recoils, “I am not giving you my weapons.” “I’d hardly consider those pieces of charcoal your weapons. More like enemies, after the beheading you served to the first one.” He wants… the charcoal?

summary: aruna begins to doubt just how skilled she truly is with her daggers, and astarion proves himself useful his first night in camp by offering an act of selfless aid. but not before criticizing her map making skills, of course.

wc: 3.3k+

warnings: continued memory loss, use of daggers (but not for violence), astarion gets a little flirty, and more gameplay recounting (specifically one of the first camp scenes you can trigger with astarion)

a/n: take a shot every time i make astarion say "oh, dear" like a little shit in this fic. also, i promise at some point, this fic will stop being such a play by play of the game lol

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

“You’re Astarion?”

Aruna swears she’s going to be sick as she stares at the elf with wide eyes. It’s all too much – the leftover adrenaline from having a blade held to her throat, those red eyes boring into her soul, the swirling pressure that squeezes down on her lungs tightly as the realization settles deep inside her bones.

This is Astarion.

“I- Yes?” he questions, entirely on guard as his eyes narrow. He’s quick to recover, and all his hesitation is masked behind a certain air of confidence she can see right through, “As I was saying, I was in Baldur’s Gate… when those… those awful beasts…” he loses his focus repeatedly before finally huffing out a sigh, “I’m sorry, just- Have we met before?”

She doesn’t even know how to explain herself or her outburst. She hadn’t confided in Gale or Shadowheart regarding her letter, and hadn't mentioned Astarion in the last two days. The entire spectacle looks odd to every single one of them; Shadowheart is watching her far more carefully than normal, Gale’s face is twisted up with all that awful curiosity, and Astarion is just… Well, he’s simply plain confused.

He doesn’t recognize her.

She woke up without any memories, not even so much as her own name, with him being one of the only clues to her past self, and he doesn’t even know her.

What sick game is the Universe playing on me?

“Do you two know each other?” Gale asks when Aruna doesn’t answer Astarion, but it only earns him a scoff from the pale one.

“Thank you, for repeating the obvious question I just asked…” Astarion trails off, eyeing the wizard, waiting for proper introduction.

It takes him a few moments to recognize that Astarion is waiting to learn his name before he jumps to life, “Oh! My apologies. I’m Gale, and this is Shadowheart. And that is Aruna – although, I do promise you, she’s usually far less mute.”

He doesn’t fucking know me. I have a letter in my pack right now, heavier than any looted armor, instructing me to save him – and he doesn’t even know me.

“Ah, I see,” Astarion’s voice is surprisingly low, nearly musical in cadence as he hums and turns to look at her properly again. There’s still concern behind his eyes, still searching her for some sort of explanation. “Well, I certainly don’t believe we’ve met before, have we?”

He’s asking something more than just all that he’s voicing. She can pick up on that much; she just doesn’t know what else he really wants from her.

She can’t simply casually say, “Oh, I have no idea. I actually have no memory of my life before all of this. But, hey, fret not! I actually have a letter with your name on it – a letter telling me to save you, even. Small world, eh?”

Or maybe she could. Far more odd situations have arisen in the last forty eight hours.

“I don’t think we have,” she says slowly, being sure to enunciate each word with cautious care. They feel wrong, heavy on her tongue as though she’s telling a dire lie.

But was she the one lying, or was Astarion? If that letter of hers truly was referring to him, he must know her.

Is it possible he held his blade to her throat because he knows her?

“Well, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,” he flashes a charming smile, and she realizes just how disarming he is capable of being. If she weren’t so on guard at the moment, honed in entirely on him for every subtle change, she wouldn’t notice it was an act, “What do you know about these wretched things inside our heads?”

The rest of the conversation, Aruna only has one goal in mind: Astarion will be joining them in her travels, no matter the cost. She matches his act with one of her own, flourishing with her own set of honeyed words in an effort to garner the barest hint of trust from him. And it proves to not be overly difficult; it’s as though they share the goal as something common between them, because the moment her offer of him joining the small group leaves her mouth, he’s eager to agree. Almost too eager.

All strange circumstances aside regarding Aruna, it’s still a valid response. They have better chances of survival if they face it in numbers.

And so Astarion joins them. Brimming with flamboyant movements and an extravagant smile that she notices stays half-closed, he offers to bring up the rear of the group just as Aruna announces the need to go back to camp.

“Resting again? So soon?” Shadowheart’s face twists as if she doesn’t notice the quickly setting sun, “We haven’t even found a healer yet. Or at least found a lead for one in the area-”

“We can find one tomorrow,” Aruna interrupts, turning to face her small group of rag tags. She can’t stand it – the hope shining in each of their faces, the undeserving faith that lies behind their eyes after just two days. Astarion is the only one resembling something she can stomach, and mostly because he looks entirely bored with the current argument, “I need to update our map and we really should try and put more effort into the camp before we pick up any more…” she trails off, and Astarion finally looks at her, half-smirking as though daring her for an insult. Something fires up inside of her – as though it’s a game, as though they both know she doesn’t mean it when she finishes the thought with a sarcastic quip of, “Strays.”

“Oh, darling,” he puts a hand to his chest, taking a few steps around Shadowheart to be closer to her. When he leans forward, it’s as though he’s sharing a secret with just Aruna, “If you wanted me to purr for you, all you had to do was ask.”

It’s not a secret, though. Everyone else hears. Gale takes a sharp breath in, and Shadowheart only huffs in disamusement.

And Aruna has to bite back everything inside of her to not react, to not give him any satisfaction. It’s as though he sees right through her, as if the laugh she had swallowed down had escaped nonetheless, to grace only his ears.

Neither of their shields are working very well against one another. Their souls already seem to know one another, staring across the vast caverns between them, a whisper of I know you echoing in both sets of ears.

She doesn’t stand a chance, and she’s hardly known him for a few hours.

—

Camp is quiet.

Shadowheart is brooding, Gale is humming to himself as he lays out a rug that no doubt came from his damned bag of holding to claim his corner of the camp, and Astarion has taken to sitting near the fire pit. All lost in their own worlds, all completely silent as Aruna gathers what she needs to complete at least one of the tasks she’d insisted needed to be taken care of.

The map. She needs to attempt to update it, add to the sad squiggles and lines to indicate that area they explored today. Even if they never return to that beach, she wants to know that it’s there. It exists.

Charcoal pencils that they had looted from a chest amongst the wreckage days prior are lined up on the stone bench, the surface almost too high for her to comfortably utilize it as a table when she sits on the ground before it. But she’s stubborn, and it’s the best she can do in their current situation, so she makes it perform as a table.

She’s just started to ponder if she should retrieve one of her daggers to sharpen the sticks of charcoal when Astarion notices.

“What are you doing?” he asks, sounding more accusatory than curious as she unsheathes a knife, already fisting a pencil.

“Sharpening my pencils,” she murmurs, mentally pleading with her shaking hands to steady as she brings the edge of the blade a few centimeters from the tip of the art tool, angling it so that she can begin to shave it down to a precise point, “I’m updating the map.”

“You have a map?”

She sighs, finally lowering the dagger and charcoal. Her hands won’t stop shaking, and Astarion really isn’t helping.

“Yes, we have a map,” she nods to the piece of paper on the stone before her. Astarion wastes no time in getting up from where he had sat on one of the bedrolls rounding a fallen tree log so that he could take a seat on what was meant to serve as her table tonight, not his bench.

He looks down at her sorry excuse for a drawing of a forest, the center being camp.

“Oh, dear. Well…” he leans in closer, squinting at a grouping of dots that were meant to symbolize the beach where she had woken up, “You certainly weren’t an artist before all of this, were you?”

“Excuse me?”

He glances up at her through his lashes, lifting a brow as if he was pointing out the obvious, “Don’t get me wrong. The idea of a map is an excellent one, I’ll give you that, but this…. This leaves something to be desired.”

She doesn’t know why she’s taking offense. She knows her art skills are shit. She knows the map is pitiful.

“It’s not complete yet.”

“Clearly.”

“We just needed some way to keep track of our surroundings.”

“I agree.”

“It doesn’t have to look pretty.”

“Oh, but wouldn’t it be so much nicer to look at if it was more attractive?” he tsks at her.

She hates it. She hates that his criticism, his disapproval, gets under her skin so easily.

She picks her dagger back up and brings it back to that piece of charcoal in her left hand, more determined than before, “If you hate my rendition so much, make one for yourself. I’m sure you could do a far superior job, right?”

Snap.

Her hands were still shaking when she struck against the soft black chunk in her hands. The angle had been off, the amount of pressure she was applying was too much. She had been distracted by him and now, she was suddenly holding a broken piece of charcoal rather than a nicely sharpened one.

They both stare down at the mess she’s created across her palms and weapon for a few seconds, deathly silent. She’s trying to not throw an absolute fit, quickly reaching her breaking point; he’s trying to bite down all his laughter, almost feeling sorry for her.

“Oh, dear.”

An echo of his earlier words, this time choked up behind his silent amusement. Slightly more exaggerated, far more taunting than they had originally been.

“Don’t,” she quietly insists, eyes flickering up to already find mischief burning in his, “Don’t you dare. I-”

“You have wielded those daggers before, haven’t you?”

She opens her mouth, prepared to bite back with an of course I have, when it hits her that she’s actually not entirely sure.

Have I?

She had wielded them in the fight against the brains, hadn’t she? And she’d been able to use them quite well, albeit the fight was against a couple of brains on legs, and she had a powerful wizard and strategic cleric on her side.

It seems that he picks up on her internal battle before it’s even ended. He sees through all that self doubt, and with a heavy sigh, holds out his palms. “Hand them here.”

She instinctively recoils, “I am not giving you my weapons.”

“I’d hardly consider those pieces of charcoal your weapons. More like enemies, after the beheading you served to the first one.”

He wants… the charcoal?

She doesn’t give herself any more time to question it, grabbing for the two remaining pencils and handing them over before she can even guess what his end goal here is.

That thing inside of her is still whispering, pleading for her to trust him. She doesn’t understand why – she can’t comprehend how he’s the mysterious Astarion she’s meant to save, or how she could possibly know him without him knowing her. None of it makes a lick of sense, and yet, she’s still handing him the charcoal he requests and not even voicing a single concern outloud.

He unsheathes his own dagger quickly. His hands don’t shake as hers had. The angle of his blade is precise and his stroke is quick as in mere seconds, he’s taken the chunky stick and shaved it down to a point.

He’s sharpening them. For her, presumably.

“How did you…” she whispers in questioning as he holds out the newly sharpened charcoal, the one he had yet to turn into a point still resting beside his thigh. Curls of ashen black litter the ground around the two of them.

“Skilled hands, darling,” the nickname strikes embers inside of her, kindling of flames ready to be fanned into a wildfire if he so pleased, “And some of us know how to use our daggers.”

She plucks it from his fingers, holding it up to examine the delicate point in the dying light of the day.

Perfect. She wasn’t about to admit it to him, but his handiship was perfect.

“This is the part where any one with common manners might say thank you,” he muses, condescending as ever as he picks up the second stick and begins to twirl it, marking his knuckles in the faintest grey.

Against her better judgment, her eyes find his as she all but whispers, “Thank you.”

It’s more sincere than she had meant. And she can’t understand it herself, but it feels like she’s thanking him for far more than just the charcoal. That quiet voice inside of her teems, preening as she continues to look him in his eyes. Those waves of deja vu are beckoning at her shore again, but this time, she’s almost fearful to dip her toes back in. It had hurt badly enough when their tadpoles connected – she doesn’t know what would happen if she succumbed to that feeling of knowing him, recognizing this scene from what feels like another life.

What had he done for her in past lives that warranted thanking him so sincerely? What whispers of forgotten memories between them warranted the firm instruction of saving him?

As she pulls herself away from the useless pondering, she takes note of Astarion’s reaction. He very clearly hadn’t expected her to actually thank him. The shock ripples across his features, he leans back as though she might have smacked him with her genuine words. For just a moment, hard garnet softens and she’s once more reminded of friendship. She could be friends with him; she could be friends with all of them, but especially him.

Just as she’s leaning into the idea, he’s clearly running from it.

“So, we’re resting here for the night?” he asks in faux nonchalance, effectively changing the subject, “Officially turning in?”

I could be your friend, but only if you let me in, it seems.

She’s not blind. She knows pressing the topic any further would probably end badly for the two of them. “Yes. And if all goes to plan, this will be our permanent camp. For however long our journey requires, of course.”

He’s quiet as he focuses his attention back on the charcoal pencil he had been fiddling with, and with quick movements, he takes to whittling it down just as he had the first one. This time, however, he’s slower. As though he’s begging for the action to fill the awkward silence so he won’t have to.

“Why do you ask?” This, she decides, she can press on. She can push him on this topic, “Never slept in the woods before?”

She doesn’t know why she expects him to keep up a callous act. Expects to be met with resistance and a snarky attitude. But no such thing is on display as he swipes at the charcoal one final time with his blade before he looks up at her, and he’s still softened. Churning ever so faintly, like the calmest of oceans. She knows there’s dangerous depths beyond, a certain darkness she only sees the shadow of behind the look he gives her, but the surface appears so inviting for the time being. Cool, refreshing, reflecting speckles of moonlight in his eyes.

“It’s all a little... New to me, I admit,” his voice is something softer than usual. Soft, soft, soft. Why does she recognize that softness inside of him so easily? She picks up the brief shrug of his shoulders before he continues, offering her more than she could have asked for, “The night usually means bustling streets, bursting taverns. Curling up in the dirt and resting is, uh…. A little novel.”

She’s completely bewitched through the explanation. Drinking in every movement, the way he speaks with his hands, the fluctuations in his tone. He dives back into that usual charming voice when he mentions the taverns – his tone brims with youth as his face softens and he says his final three words. The lift of his brows, the nerves of the small smile he pushes forward; she clings to every bit of it, in a damning effort to piece together who exactly the man in front of her was.

He’s pretty. If she’s learned nothing else, it’s that he’s pretty. The kind of pretty that would ruin her if she wasn’t more careful.

The kind of pretty that might have already ruined her, if that mysterious letter was any sort of clue.

“You should try,” she doesn’t know why she’s whispering, but she is. Mostly everyone has retreated to their own spaces, their own bedrolls. They’re the only two left within the vicinity of the fire dying out in the middle of the camp, “Rest, I mean. We’ll need it for whatever tomorrow may bring.”

He’s quick to shake his head, holding out that second pencil to her finally. It’s as well carved as the first one, perfect for the purpose she had for them, “Oh, no. I’m in no place to rest yet. Today has been a lot. I need some time to think things through, to process this.”

As she takes the pencil, adding it beside the first on the stone, she knows there's a catch yet to be revealed in his words. “Are you sure? I don’t mind taking the first watch.”

It had been an unspoken agreement – there would always be someone awake, keeping safe eyes on the camp as others rested.

“I’m positive. Actually, I insist that you rest. I’ll keep watch instead.”

She shouldn’t trust him. She shouldn’t so willingly put her faith in some random pale elf to keep her safe in her sleep.

And yet, she does.

Her logical thinking and her instinctive reactions don’t align. They never seem to do so thus far in her journey, especially with him. It’s more than just the letter reminding her to save him; there’s a twisting in his gut, a burning in the back of her mind, as if she’s known him far longer than the day has been. As if their time together transgresses far beyond the mere hours they’ve been acquainted. She trusts him ardently – to a dangerous level. She can recognize it, but she can do nothing about it. The feeling surely can’t be mutual. Her gut is surely leading her wrong.

“Thank you. I’ll sleep better for it.”

There are those two little words again, slipping off her tongue with an earnesty that rattles them both to their cores. At least this time, she hardly looks him in his eyes as she says it.

“The pleasure is all mine,” he covers up any shock with theatrics, offering a small bow to her, “Sweet dreams.”

Her dreams are anything but sweet that night. But they do distract her just enough that she never notices the shadow strangely similar to his stature, sneaking out the edges of camp, slinking off into the woods without a sound.

#my writing #ghost's stories #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion x oc #astarion romance #astarion bg3 #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #' have we met before' the note i put on the google doc on that line good lord #he has no idea #she has no idea #WAH #no but in all seriousness we will be entering less rewriting game scenes very soon because that's just plain boring #i wanna focus on them in between those events more #but i also do enjoy how i can twist and turn the circumstances of his triggered scenes into them developing trust #once we hit a very important camp scene i'll start with the time jumps

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sillyromance · 4 months

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Hello! I don’t know if you know this character well enough, but I’ll try my best. Can you please make some kind of scenario with G1 Sunstreaker?

Good day, dear anonymous!

I'm very sorry that completing this has taken so much time... But, finally, I've come up with an idea for the writing. Perhaps, it has turned out too fluffy...

Nevertheless, hope you enjoy!

Not alone.

- Y/n!

You turned – your eyes locked on the lemon-yellow frame of Sunstreaker. Your big autobot friend had just returned from the mission: his crimson brother was somewhere nearby too since you could hear his loud crispy voice; he was buzzing annoyingly like a big bug in a child's fist. Definitely, boasting again… If there was a battle, those two inevitably found themselves right in the middle of it – and none of the twins was shy to show off, talking about their victories and crazy adventures. Though, that time it seemed like one of the young heroes decided to spend some time with a little human instead…

- Hi, pal! How’s it goin’? – You tried to make your voice sound in the most optimistic way possible, though a careful listener would easily recognise you pretended.

- We’ve fried some ‘cons, obviously! You should have seen how their armor got covered with that appetizing crisp! – He went down on his knee, his blue optics looking attentively in your eyes. – A usual day, really… But I see there’s somethin’ wrong. Mind to tell me?

- It's nothing. Well... I don’t know. It’s not that important. – Your gaze avoided his, your hands going back and forth, rubbing your hips and leaving long white stripes on the jeans.

There were many other bots around. Optimus, Ironhide, First Aid… Of course, they were very compassionate and understanding - but you didn’t want to talk about your problems while it was so crowded. As for Sunny, you felt grateful for being cared about, especially if it was someone who usually cared about himself more than about anyone else… Still, such stuff were not for everyone to know…

There were many things going wrong in your life lately. It would be hard to count them all… However, it didn’t mean you would let yourself act like a baby and cry on a random shoulder – no matter fleshy or steely. The bots and people working with them had a lot of things to do. Decepticons never lost a chance to cause even a tiny trouble – though, honestly, usually it was a complete disaster. It was a war… There was no time for being weak. The world wouldn’t save itself.

Sunstreaker titled his helm on a side and smiled softly.

- I thought of a ride around the base… I wondered if you'd like to join me, huh? I doubt you will reject such a cool guy like me.

- Sure not, Sunny. – You couldn’t help but smirked teasingly at his charming behaviour. - Though, I’m afraid to burn down like those ‘cons. It’s getting kinda hot around here, haven't you noticed?

He laughed lightheartedly, you accompanied him. Then he turned into his vehicle mode. Getting in the car, you heard Wheeljack calling for you two:

- Hey, guys! Where are you going?

- Oh, doc! It's just a little ride!

- Don’t you remember, Streaker – you and Sideswipe are helping me in the lab this evenin’!

- Don’t worry, doc! You know, you can count on us!

- Yeah… I don't think so after the previous time I…

- Whatever, bye!

Before the inventor could say anything else, the Lamborghini drove off the place at full speed, heading to the exit.

Evening air was refreshing; it carried soothing scents of warm sand and wild flowers. Rubby-gold clouds swam in the peach sky; tired ochre sun was slightly touching the edge of the horizon. The bot was silent. It was a little bit surprising, though you was grateful. You didn’t want to chat at that moment.

Looking at the rocky, orange landscape, you sighed with satisfaction. That was exactly that you needed. Noisy and humid atmosphere of the base tired you up; Sunstreaker saw this perfectly at the very minute he spotted you on that corner. He knew you well enough. You two didn’t waste much time on long preludes at the first meeting and got along just fine. The more you hanged out together, the closer you became. So, you quickly reached the point when friends start reading each other’s minds.

He was enjoying your presence, your body lying conveniently on his cushy seats and your hands touching the steering wheel. Though you weren't a cybotronian, you were one of the most important souls in the world for him – after his beloved brother, of course. And your low spirit concerned him much. He really wanted to speak to you there and then, however, he saw it wasn’t a good moment. Well, you would be at your secret place soon anyways – there he would ask…

After one-two kilometers he slowed down and pulled over to the side road which soon made its way upwards a sloping hill. There were much more plants than before; slim and dry trunks of acacias surrounded you, throwing long lavender shades at the car and the passenger inside. Endless blue sea of the heavens was broken into pieces of rainbow glass with thin, blooming brunches. The bot stopped; you hopped out and ran forward to a long pink cliff looming behind the trees. Sunstreaker followed, already on his feet too.

The cliff was a good spot for relaxation. It was calm, quiet, peaceful; a colorful blooming plain and a small bunch of the trees created a beautiful, almost wild landscape. Everywhere you could see was a domain of prairie. Though, downwards, there was a small town in a valley; the streetlights always switched on pretty early, they looked like fireflies sitting on the ancient eastern carpet. At that moment they were shining too – tiny stars floating in the violet air. Tough stone was drowning in plants; yellow grass tickled your bare ankles. The grove on the left rustled softly in the coming twilights; wide waves were walking over the fields.

- So… Now, we are alone. – The bot began, looking at the transparent, smoky moon starting its way above the world. – Maybe, now could you tell me?

You shrugged your shoulders, then looked at your boots – a tiny ant was running around your foot helplessly. You took a long stalk and helped the insect down on the ground.

- I don’t know. It’s… a lot.

The bot chuckled.

- I’m all audio sensors.

- Since when have you become so thoughtful, buddy?

- Since I’ve known you!

- Really? Ok, ok…

You were talking till the sun sat and the sky got covered in its cute glittering freckles. The wind rose; it was already chilly, almost cold. Thin summer shirt wasn’t able to protect you from the cooling night weather. You rubbed your forearms, trying to regain warmth; Sunstreaker glanced at your shivering figure, worried.

- Are you cold, little one? – He asked.

- Yeah… A bit. I think, it would be better for us to return.

- Agreed… - He responded, transforming…

At base everyone had been sleeping when you came. Trying not to wake the comrades up (especially, Wheeljack), you sneaked inside and turned into one of the corridors, heading to your quarters.

- Are you sure you’ll be all right on your own? – Your friend kneeled and let you climb on his large flat palm. His optics were gleaming softly in the darkness.

- Are there any other options? – You smiled.

- Well… - His voice became shaky. – I could… take you with me…

- It would be uncomfortable for both of us, don’t you think?

He thought for a minute or two, then turned to you, expression of his faceplate showing a mix of hope and... embarrassment?!

- Actually, I have an idea… But I don’t know if you…

- Just say it out loud, boy.

He took a deep “breath”, stabilizing his systems.

- I could… I could put you in my fuel tank. So, you would be safe while sleeping and… not alone as well.

You heart skipped a beat.

- Wait, wait, wait… But transformers’ fueltanks work in the same way human stomachs do, don’t they?

- Still, we can’t process organic materials, remember?

He had a point. You exhaled.

- Right… Nevertheless, it sounds so crazy…

- I understand. So... It’s your choice.

You rubbed your chin, considering the offer. On one hand, you were about to be swallowed(!) alive by a metal titan and spend a whole night inside him without any guaranties that something wouldn’t go wrong. But at the same time, he was your best friend; you could trust him. After all, that all was just a matter of trust.

You met his gaze once again - the bot waited for your decision, though you could see the flames of impatience jumping in his optics.

- I… I don’t mind. I know you won’t hurt me.

You could tell he was happy to hear that; tension released the bot’s figure, he grinned joyfully like a big cat.

- Wow! Thank you, Y/N! I swear it's gonna be the best experience possible for you!

- Fine, big guy! Let’s get it over with…

He opened the door of the room he and his brother were sharing. Sideswipe was snoring peacefully on his berth; he didn’t notice neither of you and didn’t hear how Sunstreaker closed the door and lied on his own bed.

- Shhhh… - He whispered as he saw you trying to say something. – He won’t bother us. Sides won’t open his optics even if the skies crack on two.

You giggled. But the bot’s faceplate suddenly went sober.

- Are you still sure?

You nodded confidently.

- Perfect… If anything scares you, just call for me - I'll stop and let you out. Don’t be shy, Ok?

- Ok.

- Good… Now, please, hold still…

His grip tightened a little as you were lifted to his opening mouth. Your feet were laid on something wet and warm – it wrapped around them, coating you in heavy, slick slime. Tingles ran down your spine as you realized it was his glossa tasting you, and the slime was the drool coaxing your limbs, preparing you for… for the way down. Sunstreaker’s throat produced a silent moan of pleasure – it seemed he liked your flavor! Huh… You couldn’t help but blushed, thinking about you being such a tasty tiny candy.

Meanwhile, the bot very gently pushed you further, to the pharynx. Your hands finally met with the pulsing, smooth tongue which leaned to them eagerly, then slipped behind you back. The servo loosened up; now you were in the bot’s mouth entirely, being held by his long, plushie glossa. Misty, hot air filled your lungs; it was too dark to see, but you could feel your toes wriggling in the open space – the awaiting entrance of the esophagus. Streams of oily saliva vanished in that black hole with loud, delicious sounds of gulps. At first, they frightened you; instinctively, you grabbed the flesh of your improvised bed and made an attempt to crawl away from the danger. However, the very minute you did that, the swallows faded. Sunstreacker froze still, granting you a chance to stop – undoubtedly, it would disappoint him, but he didn’t want to startle his human friend. You took a big breath and forced yourself to calm down. There was nothing that would mean harm to you. The mech wouldn’t hurt you - he loved you! You went through so many things together – undeniably, he was reckless sometimes, but he wouldn’t do anything that would lead to death of those he valued the most.

Hesitantly, you patted the glossa – it licked your cheek playfully, comforting, then bend over, letting you slide back to the throat. Powerful metal muscles contracted around your ankles and tugged you in the comforting embrace of the esophagus.

Trembling, the bot outlined a small round bulge on his neck with his digit as you were fully pulled inside his throat. He swallowed hard, yet carefully, sending your warm, fragile body further down his huge tough body. The mech could still sense you wriggle, moving deeper and deeper inside beneath his chest plates. Some more slow seconds – and you arrived at your destination, being dropped into whining chamber of the alien “stomach”, making a nice little bulge on Sunstreaker’s abdomen.

His servo leisurely traced your path and stayed on the lump, massaging it slightly. Inside, it was gurgly and wet, but cozily warm and soft. You felt your friend’s indecisive caresses and pressed your hand against a thick grey wall permeated with long thin energon cables from the bottom to the top.

- How are you, Y/N? Is it OK?

- Yes, Sunny, it is. Don’t worry so much! You did great, by the way…

- Oh… That’s good to hear, I guess… You too.

- Thanks…

It was awkward to have a conversation in that position, so neither of you said a word anymore. You rested against the plump bumps of the fueltank rubbing at you lovingly; soothing quiet sparkbeat and dim light coming from the walls as well as gentle growling sounds and warmth made its work – your eyelids soon grew heavy, you yawned and snuggled into the squishy metal.

- Sweet dreams, Sunny.

The bot curled up around you, hugging his growling, full middle.

- Same for you, dear.

#extreme cuddling #soft vore #safe vore #transformers vore #transvoremers #willing pred #willing prey #g/t vore #g1 vore #sunstreaker vore #vore fluff #sfw vore

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potential-fool · 1 year

Note

Could I maybe get something where Phoenix accidentally hurts the reader like burns them and they don’t see it as a big deal but he does thx hope you are having a good day

A/N: Ho boy it's been awhile I've been all wrapped up in school and other such things but even though finals are about to start I felt like writing for you all <3 Tags: Fluff, Established relationship, hurt/comfort

Burns: Pheonix x Reader

On the battle field it can be a rather hectic place, especially when you're running frantic trying to defuse a bomb that threatens to unearth the very ground you stand on. You were the polar opposite to your lover Pheonix, or rather- Jamie as you called him, But not now, this was battle, you had call-signs for a reason. To keep you safe.

Like your lover you too were a Radiant, cursed by the Raidionite to be one with the cold and ice. Yoru had found you in the snows of Ice-Box when he went to go retrieve his armor, since then you've had a sibling-like relationship; you weren't complaining though, he could be kind when he wanted to--that wasn't often though.

Now you were back on the costal area that the protocol had dubbed "Haven," You were standing gaurd on C-Site with an Operator and Pheonix when you saw what you were dreading to see. The enemy. It was strange, they really did mean it when they called it 'Mirror Earth.' Without thinking you fired a shot that rung through your ears, hitting the enemy Sage in her lower abdomen. You froze. You were trained to kill and yet- "FROST-" Pheonix who was by your side shoved you out of the way with burning hands as a shot rang out--a shot that surely had hit you had Pheonix not been there. Though through the adrenaline his hands had left a burn mark, nothing to severe, but when the contact had been made you let out a small yelp. Pheonix quickly shot up a wall and with his still burning hands he scooped you up and moved you behind a wall, he could feel your heart racing. He spotted the burn marks quickly and shook the worry away as best he could and looked into your eyes; "I'm so sorry- Y/n- Frost-" He was cut off by the shot of more shots ringing out, your team had arrived, thank god, Jett and Yoru were now on site with you and Skye was on the way. "Frost, are you okay?" Yoru's voice played through your com and you nodded to yourself before replying with a shaky: "Y..yeah.." You took a breath, trying to get a hold of yourself "Alright let's finish this," ~ Time Skip ~ The battle ended successfully and the Mirror agents had run off back to their mirror world, as you all piled into the transport you noticed that Jamie was uncharacteristically quiet. "Jamie..? You doing okay? You're not hurt right-?" You asked, the anxiety in your voice peaking at the thought that Jamie could be hurt and you didn't notice- "Oh- nonono-! Of course not, I'm fine I just- I should've had more control, I hurt you, and- I'm just- I'm just so so sorry." Jamie was bouncing his leg, and you let out a breath of releif "Jamie, you saved me, if you hadn't gotten me out of the way I would have absolutely gotten shot. I can't afford to freeze like that on the battle field again..."

You sighed, leaning against Jamie, cuddling your lover, contemplating the world you lived in. "I guess we both got things to work on huh.." Jamie chuckled a bit, wrapping his no longer burning hands around you "Yeah,, but.. we'll do it together"

#pheonix x reader #valorant fic #valorant #valorant fluff #pheonix x you #valorant x reader #valorant phoenix

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home-on-the-wastes · 22 days

Text

Hell of a Ride (1/2)

When someone finally makes it through the Gauntlet, Gage's relieved that they might finally have a candidate for Overboss--until he sees that the contender's just a kid. Still, she's the first who's gotten this far in a long time, so maybe there's some merit to her skills, and would be a good fit for the role after all. Besides, kids can be bossed around, right? Characters: Porter Gage, Murk Mathis (Fallout 4 OC), Overboss Colter, Other Nuka-World residents Tags: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Nuka-World Amusement Park, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, Swearing, Killing, Murder, Raiders, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Underage Drug Use Part 1 // 2

God fucking damnit.

It was a kid. Redeye had said the new vic was on the young side, but Gage wasn’t expecting a teenager. A scrawny, wiry thing in armor that had been looted from corpses and didn’t fit right. Her gear was a hodgepodge of leather and old Gunner armor. She had gotten this far because of caution if Redeye’s commentary had a lick of truth, but slow and steady doesn’t help in a battle against Colter.

Still…maybe it was something.

Gage turned on the intercom. “All right, listen the hell up if you want to make it out alive—I’ve only got a minute.”

“Who’re you?”

The kid had already found the intercom. That was a good sign; taking initiative, or whatever.

“I’m the guy who’s gonna try and get you out of this alive, so listen up. The game’s rigged, kid—”

“It’s fucking rigged?!” echoed the kid. “Figures.”

“Shut up or I turn off this comm and you’re on your own.” Gage didn’t have the patience for this. It was easier when kids showed up wanting to be a raider, wanting to engross themselves in this life. But a kid surviving the Gauntlet was a whole different story–she couldn’t tap out or sneak off in the night. The gangs wanted a show. They wanted blood. “Now, you gonna be quiet?”

The kid said nothing.

“Good. Now, listen close.”

Gage outlined the plan. To the kid’s credit, she listened intently. She retrieved the Thirst Zapper as he instructed and paid attention to the plan. In fact, she got a little too quiet, and it made Gage nervous.

Funny, that stuff could still make him nervous.

“So, you got it?” he asked again.

“This isn’t going to work. Sure, water conducts electricity, but this is a toy.”

No shit, thought Gage. “Well, that’ll knock out his power armor long enough to let you get a few shots in. If you don’t believe me, then leave it, you little shit. You got a gun besides the zapper?”

The silence on the other end was, to say the least, concerning. Something clattered on the other end of the intercom. Then, the voice piped up again. “Yes?”

“Ammo?”

There was another clatter. “Yes.”

Gage shut his eye and took a deep breath. This kid’s fucked. “Well, good luck, kid. Try and die quick.”

“Fuck you.”

“Save that venom, you’re gonna need it.”

Colter shouted his usual pre-match bullshit, some of the crowd going wild. The others cheered but a few looked uncomfortable at the spectacle. The kid looked a little on the young side, still obviously a teenager, but since some of them were barely out of adolescence themselves. It could have easily been them in the arena with Colter instead of sitting in the audience as their fellow gang members lost it over the bloodshed.

Colter turned to the holding area, and Gage could hear the sneer of delight in Colter’s tone. “Don’t worry, kid–it’ll all be over soon.”

On cue, Gage hit the button to open the door. The crowd cheered.

Here we go, thought Gage. He saw the Thirst Zapper at the kid’s waist, tucked in a holster. Make it quick, make it painless. Make sure that kid doesn’t know what hit her.

The kid held onto her submachine gun, finger on the trigger, and charged. At least she was willing to give them a show.

The first part of the fight was painful. Coulter clipped the kid the moment she stepped into the arena. The kid hid behind the wreckage of ride pieces, occasionally taking pot shots but they rarely hit. It was obvious the kid couldn’t aim for shit–her hands shook so bad, it was comical. Colter chased her around like a loud cat toying with a mouse–shouting jeering remarks, but not taking her very seriously. The way everyone roared in the arena, Gage couldn’t help but feel bad. He didn’t want to even look, but he made himself watch anyway.

Then, a small explosion. A ripple of energy throughout the arena made Gage’s hair stand on end, his wrapped-up feet tingling as a current surged through the floor.

“What the–what is this?!” Colter demanded.

Gage stepped sideways to see past Colter’s hulking frame. The sparking electricity that normally cloaked Colter was gone, leaving him standing there holding his combat rifle like a goddamned idiot. He let his guard drop, just for a moment, grabbing at his armor like that would fix it, and then–that’s when the kid struck.

Throwing the Thirst Zapper aside, she charged Colter, one hand around a beat-up submachine gun, the other outstretched to grab something. For a split second, Gage eyed something shiny at her waist–the machete hanging at her hip was just unnecessary weight in the fight of her life. That machete wasn’t going to do shit against the steel plating, and how the hell was she planning on picking up the Thirst Zapper in the chaos? The electricity would be shorted only for maybe ten, fifteen seconds tops. Not enough time to kill him. Maybe her plan was to give Colter lockjaw once she ran out of ammo if she lived that long.

The charging kid forced Colter to stumble back. They were so close to the glass barrier he could see her eyes past the smudged windows–dilated pupils so wide her eyes were almost black as a ghoul’s, fixed on Colter. Gage guessed she was hyped up on chems, and if her gritted teeth and foolhardy stupid charge were anything to go by, it was Psycho. Bloodthirsty, ready to give a show.

The kid spared Gage the briefest glance and then—ran past Colter? Was her plan to try and get into the glass room, just charge and break the glass? No, not that—she reached out and grabbed some of the metal mesh on Colter’s armor. Used it to slide on the scuffed metal floors, relying on her weight to swing behind him. The metal cut into her fingers, blood bursting out in a gory pressure display, but she didn’t let go. She shoved her fist, still clutching the machine gun, towards the back of Colter’s power armor–

“Oh, fuck,” said Gage.

The fusion core popped out, wobbling loosely in its power chamber. The kid lost momentum and slid into an upturned bumper car with a crash but then dragged herself over it to give herself some cover.

“I’m gonna tear you apart!” roared Colter, unaware of the telltale signs of the power armor shutting down until it was too late. He made it about ninety degrees before it shut down entirely, and the fusion core started to slide to the ground. “You fucking bitch—”

She lined up the shot, which was impossible to miss, even with her shitty aim.

The resulting explosion threw everyone in the immediate area off their feet. Gage blacked out for a few seconds and came to with glass showering on top of him. He heard screams of panic and excitement once the ringing in his ears faded, noises of confusion, and the gang bosses tried to corral their people for a second as he collected himself.

Next >>

#fallout 4 #fallout #fallout 4 oc #fallout 4 nuka-world #nuka world dlc #porter gage #fanfic #one shot #my writing

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lipeg · 3 months

Text

Jaune is a terrible character

I like him but he had a terrible development.

Now that RT has closed and the question remains who will want to take the risk, stay with Rwby and still have to pay Warner.

Warner is in bad legs, full of debts to pay.

It was revealed by a profile that Rwby is not making a profit unfortunately he didn't give data which would be very important but said that volume 9 had no money to be made and that it was a loan... Well the studio closed.

I believe it has already happened that good studios have closed but... are usually closed because of greed or "Woker"

Japan studios Play Station

About Jaune, he has a lot of problems.

His past is non-existent, we will not have any information about his parents or your other sisters.

He forged documents to get into Beacon, but there's a big problem with this story called Glynda, she would have noticed something wrong with it.

The worst part is that we don't know how big the Arc family was. Why are the only known family members Saphron, who has nothing to show, and Jaune.

V4 and V5 showed almost everyone's family.

It showed Ren's family who died and Nora's mother who died.

There was also "Pyrrha's mother"

But we didn't have a picture of his family.

That drawing showing him and his sisters doesn't count.

He is taking too long to evolve and I still don't see reason for him to go to Mistral and Atlas.

Why did he lose trust in Ozpin, Lion betrayed his kingdom and sold the hunters' location. Of the 4 Headmaster, Ozpin is carefree and paranoid, Lion is a coward, James he went crazy but still wanted to save the world, Teodoro... I don't know much about.

If it weren't for him, Weiss would have died, but I still don't see a reason for him to go, he's terrible in battle. It's still bad but he's not terrible.

I find it incredible that his parents never came after him.

IT'S YOUR SON WHO IS MISSING! They probably knew where he was.

V9 already been "confirmed" that has not been paid. They took out a loan to make the V9 and apparently they didn't pay it.

I wish, I had the data, but I don't. It was the same thing Sony did with the sales figures for Marvel Spider-Man Miles Morales, they only came because of a leak.

Proving that Peter Parker sells more than Miles.

Rusted Knight... The idea is cool, I read a little of the book and at the end and the idea is cool.

A warrior trapped in his own armor, obsessed with the desire to be a knight.

As I said, the idea is good but... Excursion is bad.

None of my experiences were surpassed, in fact they were all frustrated. As much as I liked the idea of an older Jaune, I wish he was more serious, even angrier. He looks like an idiot and a crying baby.

I want the Rusted Knight and Jaune were two separate figures.

Rusted Knight appeared because Jaune's armor was cursed and he couldn't take it off and he had no control over his body and his conscience got stuck in his own head.

In the final battle, he would free himself with the help of Team WBY and show his berserker side.

It would be a big change to the character.

But unfortunately it didn't happen.

About revenge against Cinder.

The only ones who came close to killing her were Jaune and Winter.

Those damn silver eyes don't help, and Cinder has a damn Grimm arm that makes her suffer a lot.

I just hope whoever buys RWBY develops more other characters.

Sun, Velvet, Glynda, Tai Yang, fuck even Cardin. They have the potential to be good characters.

Avatar Last Airbender. The episode The Storm develops Aang and Zuko at the same time but from a completely different point of view. Aang tells his past to Karata and Iroh reveals Zuko's past to his soldiers who understands Zuko's point of view.

And famous episode Zuko alone.

No, because the work is called RWBY, the world revolves around them.

Just take the Baki work, in many Baki sagas secondary characters get a lot of prominence. Sumo Saga Oliva has been humiliatingly defeated and is back for revenge.

Jack Hanma has his own saga in Baki Rahen. Where the protagonist of the work is called Baki Hanma.

It is ridiculous to say that just because a work or series has the name of the protagonist, it must focus only on the protagonist.

I'll wait for what happened with RWBY and I had the V10, I am going to pretend madness and pretend that the V10 never happened like the remake of Avatar the legend of Aang.

#jaune arc #rwby #old jaune #glynda goodwitch #taiyang xiao long #sun wukong #velvet scarlatina #rwby has terrible development #RT CLOSED!#V10 WILL NEVER COME OUT #what would do with Rwby so time can tell #lie ren #nora valkyrie

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best-underrated-anime · 6 months

Text

Best Underrated Anime Group A Round 2: #A6 vs #A4

#A6: Sad lesbians sing while fighting monsters

#A4: Immortal vampires with daddy issues and family drama

Titles, summary, trailers, propaganda, and poll under the cut!

#A6: Symphogear (Senki Zesshou Symphogear)

Summary:

The world is beset by alien creatures known as the Noise. Nothing can touch them, and if they touch a human being, both turn into carbon dust. But, with the symphogear system-magitech battle armor powered by music and singing, humanity has a chance to fight back.

Propaganda:

This is the best example of music fights I’ve ever seen. They sing WHILE fighting. It’s amazing. The fight choreography, how the music plays into it, and let’s not forget the incredible character development. The entire cast is full of characters that would be the highlight of any other show. And last but not least, it is off the walls insane fun. You think it reaches its heights at the end of season 1, but no. It keeps climbing, and you are along for the ride.

Trigger Warnings: Child Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Graphic Depictions of Cruelty/Violence/Gore, Pedophilia, Rape/Non-Con, Suicide

#A4: Servamp

youtube

Summary:

A normal 15-year-old boy named Mahiru Shirota, who likes to keep things ‘simple’ and uncomplicated, finds a black kitten in an alleyway and decides to take him home. He names the cat Kuro. Mahiru later discovers that Kuro is actually a Servamp (a servant vampire), and that by giving him a name he has formed a contract with him. This results in him getting dragged into a war between the other vampires and a vampire-hunting organization called C3.

Propaganda:

Servamp deals with intergenerational trauma and how wars don’t always have a clear-cut good/bad guy. The main antagonist Tsubaki, the Servamp of melancholy, and his subclasses (people he turned into vampires) seem reluctant at times to fight/hurt Mahiru unless they feel like it is necessary, and they all clearly care about each other (evil found family). Tsubaki even seems to have a bit of a bleeding heart considering how often he brings in new people even if they aren’t good at fighting. But that doesn’t change the fact that he is willing to let the world burn to achieve his goals as long as his people aren’t hurt in the process.

Then you have C3, the vampire-hunting organization. They view themselves as protectors of humanity and are willing to do anything to defeat Tsubaki, even kidnapping Mahiru to try and convince him to work with them under threat of death.

Then you have how the different Servamps deal with immortality. You have Lily, the Servamp of lust, who takes in and raises kids who are abandoned or abused. If any of the kids died before he could save them, he turns them into his subclasses instead. Then, there is Kuro, the Servamp of sloth. He doesn’t have any subclasses because you can’t know if someone want to be immortal, and it is cruel to force that upon someone. And finally, Lawless, who, for some reason, has started to kill his eves (the people he forms a contract with) once he gets bored with them.

The anime also has some absolutely beautiful animation and music. Plus, all the characters are well written and fun. (Fun fact: the person who sings the opening “Deal With” also voices Tsubaki.)

Trigger Warnings: Child Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Graphic Depictions of Cruelty/Violence/Gore, Suicide

When reblogging and adding your own propaganda, please tag me @best-underrated-anime so that I’ll be sure to see it.

If you want to criticize one of the shows above to give the one you’re rooting for an advantage, then do so constructively. I do not tolerate groundless hate or slander on this blog. If I catch you doing such a thing in the notes, be it in the tags or reblogs, I will block you.

Know one of the shows above and not satisfied with how they’re presented in this tournament? Just fill up this form, where you can submit revisions for taglines, propaganda, trigger warnings, and/or video.

#anime #best underrated anime #polls #poll tournament #tournament #anime tournament #animation #group stage #group stage round 2 #tournament polls #symphogear #servamp #senki zesshou symphogear #group a

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tar-maitime · 4 months

Text

if you stay by my side

Rating: T Characters: Maedhros | Maitimo, Fingon | Findekano Relationships: Maedhros/Fingon, fem!Maedhros/Fingon Additional: War of Wrath, reunions, major character injury, angst, indefinite but hopeful ending WC: 1k

Direct follow up to the last part of "talking to the air"

Fingon has been fighting to get back to Russandol for years, decades now - in some ways since the moment he died, and actively since word came through the tapestries that a fresh army was being sent to Beleriand. The news of two new kinslayings, though they horrified him, did not stop him. The incredulity of his family, dead and living, once he made his course known to them, did not stop him. Nor did Námo’s remonstrations, nor his uncle Arafinwë’s attempts to keep him from the host, nor the slews of orcs and worse monsters that he’s been battling his way through since he landed.

None of it will stop him getting back to her.

And now - now - he happens to glance over at the second force that’s pinned the current batch of orcs in place for his people to finish off, and he sees crimson banners and cloaks and hair like flame, and he nearly freezes. Gray eyes lock with his across the battlefield in disbelieving recognition. He can almost feel the embers of a familiar fire in the back of his mind where the remains of their bond lie, shattered upon his death.

Then an orc chieftain comes up behind Russandol while she’s distracted by him, and plunges a black spear into a gap at the side of her armor.

(It’s at a place that is difficult to manage with one hand, an obvious weakness. She used to have him or Maglor or a trusted aide help her with it. How long has she been letting this slide, why has she been letting this slide...)

(He doesn’t have time to think about any of this in the moment, but later - later, he will.)

He doesn’t even think before cutting his way to her, fighting so fiercely that he’s there before her knees even start to buckle. His sword rams through the throat of the orc who dared touch her, and then Fingon isn’t paying attention to the battle anymore, because Russandol is staggering and falling and he moves to catch her and follows her to the ground, cradling her in his arms.

(Their respective troops have little to no idea what is going on, but they do their work well anyway, fighting past them and driving the orcs back, leaving the two of them relatively safe.)

Russandol’s breathing is shallow and shaky, but she still gazes up at him like he’s the greatest wonder of the world. “Finno,” she murmurs. “It’s you. You’re really here.”

“It’s me,” Fingon chokes out, his hands shaking as he fumbles with his free hand at his cloak. It’s filthy, and the spear probably did damage that staunching the blood flow won’t help, but he presses the fabric against Russandol’s side anyway. “I’m here, Russë, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay. You’ll be all right.”

“How...”

“Ssh, save your strength, all right? I’ll tell you all about it once the healers have fixed you up. We’ll have time.” He can’t lose her. Not now. Not when he’s just found her again.

Russandol laughs weakly. “Again with the...trying to bribe me to...see a healer.”

“Well, this time you will,” Fingon says firmly, then twists to look back towards the support lines and yell, “Medic! We need a medic!” Someone will hear. Someone has to. “The healers will get you taken care of and you’ll be fine. And we’ll be together again.”

“Now I know...you’re making things up,” Russandol says softly. “You wouldn’t want me. Not anymore. Not after...”

“I do,” Fingon says, absolute as granite. “Always. There is nothing you could do that would make me stop loving you.” That had taken some working through in the Halls, but all of his agonizing seems very far away now. “I love you and I want you and I will get you help - medic! - and when you’re better and this is over we’ll--” He searches frantically for something to keep her eyes open and on him. “We’ll finally have a home together. Like we used to talk about. Just stay with me, Russë.”

Her eyes flutter. She reaches her hand up shakily to cup his face. “Tell me more, Finno,” she whispers. “Can we have Gil visit us there? He’s king now...wouldn’ be able to stay all the time.”

“Of course he’ll visit,” Fingon promises. He’s seen their son since arriving on these shores, gotten to talk with him some. Gil-galad is deeply conflicted about his mother’s kinslayings, but they can reconcile. It just needs time. “He’ll visit all the time. And so will Maglor, he’ll drive us mad...”

“And the twins,” Russandol says, and for a moment Fingon thinks she means Ambarussa, now dead, but no - “Elrond. Elros. Adopted them without you - ‘m sorry.”

“They’ll be there, too. I already know I’ll love them, Russë. You’ll have to introduce us - they’re my niece’s grandsons, too, aren’t they?”

Russandol nods weakly. “You’ll take good care of them.”

“We both will,” Fingon says desperately, holding her just a bit tighter. “Russë, please, stay with me, hang on--” He thinks he can hear running footsteps in the distance, prays to anyone listening that they’re healers. “Please, I came for you, I was looking for you for so long, through this whole stinking war; you can’t go now when I’ve just found you.”

“Finno.” There are tears spilling out of the corners of Russandol’s eyes, but she tries to smile. “Finnonya. It’s okay. You’re here with me. I got to see you one more time. It’s enough.”

“It is not,” Fingon says, forcing back a sob and turning it into stubborn fury instead. “You don’t get to leave me alone, Russë, it’s not fair, I don’t care if you want to get me back for the Nirnaeth or whatever this is, pick something else.”

It’s telling, he thinks with a sinking feeling, that she doesn’t argue about the Nirnaeth. She just settles herself in his arms like she would settle into a bed at the end of a long day. “Love you,” she murmurs. “You don’t have to wait for me. If you don’t want. Or if I go to the Void. Can find an Indis. You should be happy.”

“I should,” Fingon agrees sharply, “and I need you, so stay with me, Russë, so help me, if you die I will come and drag you back from Mandos or wherever else they throw you. Don’t make me do it, Russë, meldanya, please, just hang on.”

Her hand against his cheek goes limp, and Fingon has time for a single second of bright, pure panic before a trio of healers with Fëanorian red armbands descends on them and pulls Russandol out of his arms, working over her and bundling her onto a stretcher to carry away. It all happens so fast that for long moments he simply kneels there, staring after them as they run with the stretcher. He doesn’t know what happens now. He doesn’t know what to do.

They didn’t cover her face. They were still trying to help her; when they took her away, they were hurrying. There’s still hope.

Fingon picks himself up and takes off running after them. Whatever comes next, he needs to be there for her.

#silmarillion #russingon #maedhros x fingon #maedhros #fingon #reunions #war of wrath #i promised a follow-up to that cliffhanger and i delivered #although the new cliffhanger might arguably be worse...#roots of my tree #my stories #female Maedhros

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kill-the-feels · 1 year

Text

youth

a/n: hey y’all! we’re getting close to the end. this chapter has minimal Jango content, but i’ll make up for it, i promise <3 (previous part) (masterlist)

word count: ~3.2k

warnings: this one is pretty heavy on injury descriptions. If those bother you, maybe stop reading after the flashback and skip to the last section of this chapter. i’ll put a brief summary at the end of the chapter so you don’t miss anything. take care of yourselves! <3

Boba, you have a sudden, sinking realization, is young.

So young.

And you wonder what kind of damage this will do to him, to see such a massacre in his formative years. Not only is he watching his father, his buir, being taken from him, but he’s also watching such senseless killing between the Jedi, the droids, and all those men in masks, their armor just close enough to Jango’s that you know he had something to do with it all.

And in that moment, you don’t know who you hate the most:

The Jedi, for letting this happen? The Separatists, for crafting such a scheme? Or maybe even Jango, for getting involved?

All you know is you feel such a deep, burning rage, as you look out over the carnage, even as you snatch Boba towards you, holding tight as he tries to wriggle away, tries to join the battle. You gasp for breath, the dirt of the planet rising up in clouds from the battle, the haze in the air stinging your eyes.

Boba grits his teeth, his fist clenched like he’s ready to take on the world, save his buir.

And he’s young.

So young. ~~~ Boba is perhaps four, and Jango has been gone on a mission for the better part of a weekly rotation. It’s the longest he’s been away in some time, in the aftermath of that ill-fated last trip to Tatooine, finally convinced you’re not going to break. You and Boba are getting along nicely. You’ve managed to keep Boba busy with drawing, playing, and exploring, a far cry from the early days.

Boba is laying on his stomach, his creatures lined up in front of him, while he pretends to save them from an inhumane zoo. You’re noticing more and more the way in which he tries to be the savior, his tender heart something you want to protect as long as you can.

The door beeps, signaling Jango’s arrival, and Boba immediately throws himself off the floor, dragging Ai-Ai by his tail along with him.

When Boba throws his arms around Jango’s knees, he crouches, hugging his son tightly. You watch with a smile, and Jango glances up at you, a soft smile forming on his own face.

He winces a little as he stands, taking Boba’s hand and listening to the boy chatter about everything you’ve done, and you see the dark stain blooming on the side of his flight suit, in the gap between armor plates, intended for better movement.

“What happened?” you ask, interrupting Boba, who sticks his thumb in his mouth with a frown. Together, the three of you move towards the kitchen.

Jango tries to wave you off, but the grimaces instead. Carefully, he lets you and Boba help him peel the armor off, to ease the flight suit down to his hips.

It’s a nasty scrape, like he’s been grazed by a blaster shot, the mark one that has to hurt him every time he moves, but he says nothing.

“I’ll get the bacta!” Boba yells, already running away, familiar with where you keep the kit, from all the scraped knees you’ve treated.

Jango snorts, bracing his hands on the counter. Boba comes running back, holding the bacta and trailing bandages, with Ai-Ai tucked under his arm. He hands you the supplies, then passes Ai-Ai to Jango.

“Here,” Boba says. Jango looks down at him, and you tilt your head. Boba never lets the stuffed toy out of his sight. Never. The one time you tried to wash it, he howled like he was being tortured until you relented and resolved not to get close enough to smell it.

“What’s this for?” Jango asks, glancing back at you. You shake your head softly, not sure either.

“To hold onto while Buir fixes the scrapes. It’s going to sting! But Ai-Ai makes it feel better.” Your heart melts, and you watch as Boba extends his hand to Jango’s other hand.

“And you can hold my hand. That’s what Buir does when she fixes my scrapes.” There’s a funny look on Jango’s face, as he glances up at the ceiling, almost like he’s fighting some surge of emotions.

He’s not used to help, you realize. He’s used to fixing all this on his own. Gently, you dab the bacta over his side, careful not to press too hard. He breathes in and out slowly, seemingly unaffected by the feel of it. Boba winces for him, making faces and quiet squeals, the same way he does when you treat his injuries.

Only once you’ve placed the bandage on does Boba let go of Jango’s hand and circle to the hurt side, inspecting your work.

Then he promptly snatches Ai-Ai away, and runs back to his room.

Jango stares at him for another beat, before the two of you burst out laughing.

It subsides when he reaches for you, tugging you against him and cupping your face.

“Hi,” he says softly, kissing you gently.

“Welcome home,” you say, leaning into him. Neither of you say those three little words, the ones that make the planet feel like it’s slipping off its axis.

It’s just understood, in the way he looks at you, the way you smile up at him. ~~~ Neither you nor Boba cries. You’re not sure if the numbness will subside later; if, once the shock wears off, you’ll be hit with a wave of emotions that rivals the stormy waves on Kamino.

Or if you were so sure he wouldn’t make it off Geonosis, that your mind has already accepted he was a dead man walking, and reality is only now just catching up.

It doesn’t matter, you decide. Not feeling anything is the only thing keeping you standing right now, arm wrapped around Boba to keep him from plunging into the battle, so you lose not just Jango, but Boba too. He stops fighting you, holding onto your arm instead, like he can’t stand on his own.

And as you stare down at the dust, all you can think of is that day he came back home. All the times he came back home.

And now he won’t. But does it even matter, because is there even a home to go back to? ~~~ After the battle, the two of you slowly emerge. Bodies lay strewn in the field, the Jedi uncaring for two quiet civilians, picking their way past the fallen Geonosians and battle droids. You watch the men in white armor lead the operations, blisteringly effective as they start the clean up. Forcing your eyes away, you duck your head, scanning the carnage — so many people, gone — looking for one man among many.

There, in the dust, is the glint of the armor, the helmet a few feet away.

Boba shudders beside you, and it takes all your strength to keep walking forward. You have to look. Have to figure out how to get him out of here, so you can say goodbye properly. You promised.

You feel exposed, here in the bowl of the arena, despite the fact that no one is paying attention to you. Every heartbeat sounds like it’s been amplified, vibrating against your skin, making you stick to your stomach, unable to catch your breath like you’ve just run a race.

Your feet stumble over the last stretch, able to see the odd way Jango’s body is sprawled, one leg slightly bent, like he’s taking the most uncomfortable nap.

Boba inhales sharply and turns away, going instead for the helmet, kneeling and pressing his forehead to the cold metal.

You look down at the body of the man before you. Now that you’re here, you can’t tear your eyes away.

He’s missing his right hand, a blackened stump all that’s left. You swallow the rising bile at the back of your throat, threatening to make you lose what little you’ve eaten. Even though every part of you wants to look away, you can’t. You promised. You can do this for him.

There’s a blackened hole just off-center of his armor, where a lucky blaster shot must have caught him. Once, he explained to you that his armor was not as strong as other Mandalorian armor. A gift from the man who raised him, it’s a durasteel-beskar hybrid, true beskar rare and hard to come by. It never bothered him, because someone would have to be in incredibly close range to do any real damage, and they would have to find a weak spot in the armor.

Ironic, then, that there’s apparently a weak spot just to the left of his heart.

Your gaze drifts further up, to his face, noting the awful way his head is tilted.

There’s a nasty burn on the side of his neck, the fringes bloody and ragged, as if nearly cut by something, but stopped at the last second.

You bite your lip, kneeling beside him, taking his good hand.

“Jango,” you whisper, voice cracking on the second syllable.

Boba drops to his knees beside you, holding the helmet tightly. Around you, the world fades out, the figures moving just a part of the noise.

One last time, you lay your head on his chest, careful not to touch any of his wounds. You can feel them coming, the tears, and you need to pull yourself together for Boba. Give me strength, you will him.

And you hear it.

The ragged breath.

Slowly, not daring to get your hopes up, you sit up. Lean over his mouth and nose, holding your own breath. Waiting.

“Buir?” Boba asks you. You shake your head. You don’t dare tell him what you suspect. Not until you’re sure.

There.

Another ragged breath, catching and dragging in the worst way.

He’s still alive.

“Boba,” you say softly. “We have to move him. Gently. Get him back to the ship. Get him some help.”

“Is he-” You shake your head, cutting Boba off, who nods with sudden understanding. As far as the galaxy is concerned, Jango Fett is dead.

But that’s not quite true. ~~~ It takes you and Boba way longer than you’d like to haul Jango back to the ship. He’s a shorter man, but he’s got plenty of muscle and build, and the ship is a long ways away.

Boba helps, with you tossing him over your shoulders, wincing when it jostles his wounds, and Boba trying to keep him balanced, corralling his arms and feet. Tapping into a strength you didn’t know you had, you take it one step at a time, refusing to let go, unwilling to consider leaving him now that you know there’s a chance, no matter how slight.

By the time you reach the ramp, you’re sweaty and covered in dirt, arms burning as you settle Jango flat in the cargo bay, calling for Boba to grab the medkit.

Together, the both of you pry the amor off, tossing pieces in the corner as you cut through the flight suit.

The medkit’s woefully lacking, armed only with packets of bacta you rip open with your teeth, gagging on the taste and trying to spread it over the worst of the wounds.

But the burn on his neck and the blastershot in his chest are deep and require more than the surface level patching can provide.

“We have to get him help,” Boba says as your fingers brush over the old scar of the scrapes you patched up years ago.

“I know,” you say, ripping open a fresh bandage as new blood starts oozing from the chest wound. His hand’s been bandaged, the skin still charred and blackened — not much you can do for it.

“Where do we go?” Boba asks, helping you lift Jango so you can get a look at his back. There’s no exit wound. Which means the shot settled in his chest, slowly but surely tearing away at his insides, burning everything in there the same way the saber burned the neck and hand.

“Fuck,” you whisper. You’re losing the ability to think rationally; all you know is you need to do something.

“Buir,” Boba says again. “What do we do?” You close your eyes, taking precious time to think.

“Okay. We can’t go to Kamino.” That was your first thought — who better to help than the very people who perfected the best of Jango’s DNA? But the price they might ask is too great. They’ll want Boba, with his DNA, to pick up where Jango left off. They might not even save him, instead cutting their losses while you deliver Boba to them on a platter.

No. Not Kamino.

Coruscant is another option, a large planet that you’ve never personally visited, but have heard Jango talk about, with tons of people. Easy to blend in, but also the haven for the Jedi, and maybe too big to feasibly find what you need in time.

There’s another option, staring you in the face, but your mind refuses to consider it.

Tatooine.

Even though you promised Jango you wouldn’t go back there, at the same time, it makes sense. Gardulla’s got connections. She hates the Jedi on principle. And credits are the biggest motivator for her, something Jango’s managed to stash away.

“Tatooine,” you tell Boba. “Go get the ship ready.” He pauses, looking at you hard, as if trying to gauge your motivations.

“Boba,” you command, “the ship.” He scrambles away and you puff out a breath.

Fuck. Okay. Tatooine.

You’ll have to get your demands straight before you go in there. Decide what you can part with. Boba won’t go with you. Nor Jango. Just you. Asking for help. You close your eyes.

From fucking Gardulla.

The only way Jango survives this is a bacta tank, something you’re sure she can get her slimy tentacle on, if she hasn’t already. Credits aren’t much of an objection — Jango has a nice nest egg saved up — so you can afford to bid higher than it’d normally cost.

You can buy her silence too, add some incentive by offering some of Jango’s precious weapon stock, including some of the fancy, rare weapons from Kamino. Maker knows Jango won’t want them. If he survives.

You feel the rumble of the ship as the thrusters fire.

“Hang on,” Boba calls down, and the ship lifts, a little more jerky than Jango’s piloting but still fluidly heading into atmo. You swallow a burst of pride in Boba.

For Jango, you do your best to get him patched up in a way that will hold for now, his breathing still much too shallow, but more regular in cycle than it has been.

Small victories.

Once he’s stable, you set about finding his stash of credits on the ship, and determining which weapons you can part with before heading up to the cockpit with Boba, so you can direct him on where to land the ship. ~~~ When you leave hyperspace, your stomach drops with the familiar sensation as you stare out at the yellow planet. Boba flies over the barren landscape, gazing down at the pockets of civilization mixed in with the deserts that cover the planet.

As he starts the landing process, you feel your heart rate speed up. You have to do this. There is no turning back.

“Okay,” you say to him, as he follows you down into the cargo bay. “You’re going to stay here and keep an eye on things. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” You start for the door, and Boba grabs your hand.

“Wait!” he says. You fight the urge to tug away — you need to go before you lose your nerve.

“What?” He gestures to the armor piled in the corner.

“You should wear that.” You raise an eyebrow at him. That’s… Jango’s. One day it’ll be Boba’s. Not yours.

“I can’t do that,” you say, shaking your head. But he tugs you back, insistent.

“Think, Buir. Be smart. He’d want you to be protected, wherever you’re going. And he’s not here to do it.” In this moment, Boba is so much like Jango, it hurts. Only, where Jango has always been so carful to keep the fear hidden, it’s all over Boba’s face, no matter how brave he’s trying to be. You relent.

“Okay, but you’ll have to help me get it on.” It gives him something to do, lets him help, even in this small way. Together, the two of you work to fit the pieces over your clothes, working the straps together, the pieces falling in place easily thanks to their age and the practiced use from Jango.

The chest piece still has the blaster shot — it’ll have to be repaired — and the helmet has a dent you didn’t notice before, but with some arranging of an extra utility belt, the hole is covered, and the dent just serves to make it look more menacing.

Boba hands you Jango’s blasters, and you hesitate.

“I don’t know how to use those,” you say, “Not really, at least.” Boba nods sagely.

“It’s for show. Buir told me half of being a bounty hunter is being intimidating.” You smile softly. It’s such a Jango thing to say.

In another bag, you pile a few extra blasters, topping it off with the very saberdart and its straw that nearly got you all killed. Your down payment of credits goes in a second, smaller one. You won’t take all the credits; that would just be stupid. But you will take enough to show Gardulla you mean business.

“Keep an eye out for stuff that looks shady. If it gets too dangerous, I want you to take off. Don’t worry about me,” you tell him, echoing Jango’s own directive from before.

You can tell he wants to protest, with the way he shifts back on his heels, looking away, until his eyes focus on Jango, and he looks back at you, with a resigned sigh.

“Are we going to be alright?” Boba asks, voice barely a whisper, and it tears at something in your chest, until you feel like there’s a matching blaster bolt settled there.

You want to lie to him, give him hope that you honestly can’t muster.

But to do so would be an insult to his intelligence, and it reminds you too much of Jango lying to you, the frustration you felt.

So you tell him the truth.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, “but we’re going to try.” You open your arms and he darts for you, wrapping his arms around your middle in a fierce hug, squeezing tight. You fold over top of him, resting your chin in the crook of his neck, holding the back of his head.

Young, your mind echoes. He’s so young.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you skipped ahead, Reader and Boba find Jango after the battle and realize he’s still alive — barely. They need to get him some help, so they patch him up as best they can and decide to head to Tatooine, to barter with Gardulla for a bacta tank to heal him since Kamino isn’t an option — they might want Boba in exchange for Jango.

#Jango fett x reader #jango fett x you #reader insert #injury mention #injusry description #Angst #fwwchtsam #We’ve only got two more chapters after this but i promise I’ve got a plan #Thanks for reading!! <3

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saberamane · 1 year

Text

Ngl, when I saw your tagged post about the Nergigante, I immediately had war flashbacks of me and my friend playing MonHun. Nergigante’s a beast (haha).

Nergigante is actually a good monster to turn Desmond into because it’s an elder dragon which means it’s one of the most dangerous monster in any MonHun game but it has a certain quirk to it:

It keeps fighting even if it means hurting itself.

Not to mention, it’s an elder dragon without any elemental abilities, relying heavily on brute force and it’s theorized (or maybe this is already confirmed? Not sure) that Nergigante’s null elemental status and its penchant for hunting fellow elder dragons shows that it is meant to keep the balance of the world by keeping the other elder dragons in check which would… sorta tie in with Desmond’s ‘special situation’ in terms of AC lore (especially now that he’s the Reader).

The spikes on Nergigante’s body can also be used as projectile which would make short work of Cesare’s Papal Army. Although, it should be noted that due to its large body, it’s more on the destructive side so if you want him to stop the colonizers from attacking Ratonhnhaké:ton’s tribe, it would be better for him to strike them before they reach the village, otherwise, the village would be caught in the battle.

As for saving Sef and Malik and Abbas’ coup, that would even be harder because Masyaf is a small space when compared to the normal Nergigante size. Although, at that point, I’m sure Desmond wouldn’t care about destroying the fortress if it means he can save Sef and Malik.

Another thing to note is that the Nergigante’s spikes regenerate (freaking too fast in my opinion) so… Altaïr can definitely use it to craft some things. (Nergigante-based armor and weapons usually rank high as well)

Btw, if you want Desmond to have a more ethereal flaming look, may I suggest a gold/white version of Xeno'jiiva?

While Xeno'jiiva does not have Nergigante’s devastating brute force, it does have a sense of mystery surrounding it, which would fit Desmond well, and is a fire elemental elder dragon (. It’s final form Safi'jiiva loses the ethereal look but is deadlier as well.

Although, if you want a monster with a connection with the sun, our best bet is Teostra.

Or the deadlier variant, the Risen Teostra

*******************************************************************************************

Additions by SaberAmane:

Ok, so...I have Monster Hunter World for ps4, and I’ve had it for literal months now, and just havn’t gotten time to play it. But all the monsters and such I’ve seen from the game look awesome and is the main reason I got it to play.

Now for Nergigante, his size would cause issue for doing anything in towns, or dense forests, but I love the fact that Altair could use the spikes from his body to make weapons and armor, and it wouldn’t hurt Desmond at all since they detach organically.

Xeno’jiiva looks even cooler, and yes a white/gold variation would be stunning! Also I love the ‘false eyes’ look that travel up the horns, it’s something a lot of animals do to protect themselves (there’s a moth/butterfly that literally has wings that look like a snakes head) but also it’s just a cool look, and it seems like they might be able to glow as well? That would just make him all the more menacing.

But I have to say, for my love of dragons and related creatures, Teostra would have to be my favorite choice. It seems to be a type of Manticore, which is just awesome and a fantasy creature that doesn't often get used because Dragons are seen as being ‘cooler’ and often more menacing.

My argument would be, how is a lion/dragon hybrid, which is usually venomous/poisonous, and can fit into the same space a human would go to hide, not just as cool and deadly??

The Risen Teostra looks more manticore than the regular, having a more lion-like face, but I do like the giant tusks the regular one has. And it’s probably the rendering or angle or something, but the regular Teostra seems to have bigger, more ‘ornate’ horns??

So...I would have to say Teostra would be my pick. It’s still deadly, looks cool, can fly to get places quickly, but also... you can’t hide in a building/cave to get away from it because it’s too big to fit. It can pretty much go where ever a person can. The only thing i’d change is to give it the scorpion tail manticore’s typically have so he could have that poison ability to both use himself on enemies, but to also aid the Assassin’s.

#submission

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eriquin · 5 months

Text

The Prophetic D&D Game, Part 18

The group gets transportation, new weapons, and makes a plan.

(master post)

That spurred them into action, and they came up with a plan. They wanted to at least make an effort at contacting Millie and their other friends from the extensive backstory he’d written, so their first plan was to steal some transportation. They settled on trying to find a cart or covered wagon to be able to move through the city without being spotted so easily. There were various magic shops that they wanted to check for communication spells. If nothing else, it would help them stock up on supplies before going back into the demonic realm for the final fight.

“So, you’re stealing transportation?” Eddie asked. “Which one of you is doing it?”

“Probably me,” Lucas said. “Since I’m a thief.”

“Roll for it.”

Lucas rolled poorly. The whole table groaned at him, and Eddie rubbed his eyes in frustration. He decided to cut them a break. “While you are completely failing to find a decent covered cart to steal, a stranger driving a covered wagon pulls up in front of Sadie’s house. He stops there very deliberately and appears to be waiting for you.” He looked at the group of them. “Anyone want to roll wisdom for me?”

Most of them made their rolls. “So, can I just... steal that one?” Lucas asked.

Eddie snorted and shook his head. “Looking around, you realize that you don’t see Quinn anywhere. Dustin, the stranger with the wagon whistles in a really familiar way.”

Dustin blinked a few times. “Wait, did he...”

“Even from a distance you can tell that the stranger’s beard looks kind of fake, and he’s getting impatient. Now, would the party like to get in the damn wagon and get a move on?” Eddie smirked. “Quinn’s getting antsy about being out in the open for this long.”

“We’ll take it,” Mike said. “Joe climbs up into the wagon.”

“Quinn would like you to take the reins, Joe, if you would be so kind,” Eddie said. “He would much prefer to hide in the back, and probably most of the rest of you should as well.”

Mike grinned. “Right. Those of us who haven’t broken out of prison recently—”

“It wasn’t prison. We were just being detained,” Dustin said.

“Me and Natalia can ride up front, because we’re respectable,” Mike said. “Time to see what kind of magic and weapons we can go get.”

Most of the time, when his players went out for supplies, Eddie made them roll to figure out what they found. This time was different. He wanted them to get a feeling for how tense the city was, and maybe have an encounter before setting down to their final battle. It just felt right, to have them think that they were alone in trying to save the world.

They still went looking for scrolls that would allow them to communicate over long distances, but found nothing in any of the shops. That was legitimate, but only because they weren’t very specific about what they were looking for. None of his tables had any solutions that would work, so when he rolled and came up with nothing, he told them so. They made one last attempt at the wizard’s tower, with Gareth’s illusionist going up to try to use their scrying orb, but she got no answer. In the end, they sent messages by carrier pigeon, just like Eddie had suggested.

Once it was clear that there was no way that any help would arrive before the evil psionicist would find another victim, they started planning out their surprise attack. Lucas was still reluctant to use Sadie as bait, but Eddie could see that he was talking himself into it. The party made some investigation checks and decided to go to a weapon shop that was on the outskirts of town, hoping to avoid an encounter with the town guard.

Unfortunately, the shop turned out to be very different from what they expected. Instead of a single shopkeeper, it was a warehouse with a bunch of different booths selling weapons and armor. And because of its size, it was very popular. Kiteshire was in a panic after three mysterious murders, and everyone was arming themselves. Half the party hid in the wagon, while the other half went in to get supplies.

“Okay. You go in and get to shopping. What are you looking for?” Eddie asked. He had a possible encounter planned for them, and wasn’t sure how it would work out.

It was Mike, Gareth, and Grant in the shop. Eddie also sent Priah in with them, in case they needed back up. Mike was desperate for replacement equipment, and Gareth wanted to see what kind of weird potions and alchemical ingredients they had. Grant just wanted to upgrade Natalia’s bow. Eddie took that as an in.

“You find a retailer of bows and crossbows in the back of the room and are looking over his wares when someone clears his throat at you. It’s Lord Mason. What do you do?”

Grant frowned. “He’s trying to get my attention? Why? What did I do?”

Eddie snickered. “Really?”

“I mean, what did I do that he knows about? How’s he look? Pissed?”

“Hm, an excellent question. Pissed isn’t really the right word. Agitated, maybe? More like...” Eddie stroked his chin. “He looks like he’s just barely holding it together, and is about three seconds away from either bursting into tears or opening fire on the crowd. You’ll need to make a roll to figure out which one is more likely.”

“Ah, unstable. Okay.” Grant sighed. “I guess I’ll have to talk to him. Give him my condolences on his loss, that sort of thing.” He grimaced. “Do we have to role play it?”

“We can probably hand-wave a lot of it away,” Eddie said. “What are you going for?”

“Well, first off, I want to figure out what he wants from me,” Grant said. “Then I probably don’t want to give it to him, so I need to figure out how to talk him out of starting a fight.”

“Aww, you don’t want to get into combat with a bunch of paranoid guardsmen in the middle of a weapon shop?” Eddie grinned. “You’re no fun, Granty.”

“‘Fun,’ he says,” Grant muttered. “So what does Lord Mason want?”

“Well, he knows that your brother is associated with the group that just escaped from the barracks,” Eddie said. “He’s wondering where Finn is right now.”

“He’s away,” Grant said. He put a hand on the top of his head to signal that he was talking out of character. “He went off to visit the other village, right? He’s one of the ones we were trying to contact.”

“That’s correct,” Eddie said. “All right, so he’s conveniently missing for the murders. How nice for him. Lord Mason wants to know what you’re doing here, then, and why you’re looking at weapons.”

Grant’s eyes went wide and he grimaced. Gareth leaned over and whispered something to him. “Right. I mean, why is anyone here? It’s a scary time. Gotta protect ourselves, you know?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at Gareth, but nodded. “All right, roll me your charisma to see how that deception goes over.” Grant rolled a middling sort of score, and Eddie stroked his chin. “He doesn’t quite buy it, and he kind of gets into your space. Say something derogatory about the rangers and them not really having a place in his city.”

Mike sucked his breath in through his teeth. “Can Maya and I see what’s going on?” he asked. “Do we need to prepare for a fight?”

“I can handle it,” Grant said. “He’s insulted my profession, so I’m well within my rights to be a mean bitch right now. I’m going to try to intimidate him.”

“Oh, that’ll work,” Mike said. “I mean. I can picture Natalia being really terrifying, especially if she’s got a bunch of weapons right there.”

Grant rolled much better this time, and Eddie had Lord Mason back down. The party was spooked enough that they quickly got their equipment and got out of there. They worried that the guards would be looking for them and their stolen wagon, so they headed outside of town to prepare everything, banking on Natalia’s connection to the rangers to keep them safe.

The next bit felt like downtime, with a lot of planning. Lucas was finally convinced to use Sadie as bait, as long as one of the bards stayed with her to pull her out of her trance before the danger became too great. The players were talking through a three-pronged plan of attack when Dustin’s digital watch started to beep and they realized how late it was getting. Even though he quickly shut it off, the message was clear. They were done for the day.

“Well, I’m actually a little disappointed that you didn’t get into a fight there,” Eddie said as he packed up. “But, oh well. We can’t always get what we want, right guys?”

“I mean, did you expect us to fight all the town guards?” Gareth asked. “That doesn’t seem smart.”

Eddie grinned. “Well, if you had won, it would have eliminated them as a threat.”

Grant and Gareth both groaned in unison. “Shit, it’s going to come back to bite us in the ass, isn’t it?” Gareth asked.

“Indubitably,” Grant said.

“Come on, guys,” Lucas said. “We’re not even going to be on the material plane for the next encounter. It’ll be fine.”

“I mean, some of us aren’t,” Mike said. “But you will be. Sadie was going to lure Jamie into cursing her again.”

“I can’t believe we’re calling him Jamie,” Dustin said. “Why don’t we call him Alpha? Or, Demonlord or something. You know, something cool.”

Mike leaned over as he put his things away and shook his head. “No, let’s stick with Jamie. We want to use his real name when we carve it on his tombstone.”

“Hell yeah,” Lucas said, holding his hand up. Mike slapped his open palm and they cheered a little bit about how much damage they were going to do to him in their next session. Lucas made a promise to be there, and they all headed out into the night.

Tagging: @weirdandabsurd42, @10moonymhrivertam, @blueskiesandstarrynights

#the prophetic d&d game #hellfire club #stranger things #my writing

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howlingday · 7 months

Text

My idea for a potential DEATH BATTLE! #5

2023, October 18, 19, 20, 27

Link to the fourth post: https://www.tumblr.com/donotmindme1/731349657571278848/my-idea-for-a-potential-death-battle-4-2023?source=share

Master list: https://www.tumblr.com/donotmindme1/731003687600881664/mind-what-you-do?source=share

Korra vs Delsin Rowe (Avatar vs inFamous)

They're the second legends in line!

Fighter 1: Korra, the continuing spirit of the Avatar cycle.

Fighter 2: Delsin Rowe, the accomplishing Akomish Second Son.

Wiz: Many of us aspire to live up and uphold the legacies of our predecessors.

*insert clips of Miles Morales & Peter Parker, Deku & All Might, Ruby Rose & Summer Rose, Batman & his Robins*

Boomstick: However, just because they're tough acts to follow up shouldn't discourage you from making your own path. He's Wiz and I'm Boomstick.

Wiz: And it's our job to analyze their weapons, armor, and skills to find out who would win... a Death Battle.

PREFACE: I am wasting my time writing this. I should be working on an important project. I wanted to write an idea that suits the chilly weather of autumn to serve as a nice gateway into other MUs. I played inFamous Second Son during the last three months of 2021 and I fell in love with the gameplay. Being able to scale the buildings of Seattle with Conduit powers, doing drug busts, and saving innocent people really gave me a sense of power. I am sure I am not the only one who was disappointed when Season 8 announced Korra vs Storm due to how unbalanced the powers are between the two (however, I enjoyed the episode, mainly Storm doing the Moses and Wheather the Elements). So, now that Cole made his debut on the show, we can finally let Delsin have his time in the spotlight. Besides, I think that Korra vs Delsin is a more fitting MU, and you'll see why later on. Also, I will mainly be using True Hero Delsin (Good Karma) as it is the canon ending. I'll consider Infamous Delsin (Bad Karma) separately as it does affect the fight.

WHY:

Connections:

1. Both carry on the legacy of a famous protagonist who was able to control multiple forms of matter (Aang and Cole McGrath).

2. Both are capable of manipulating at least 4 different forms of matter (Korra has Earth, Fire, Air, and Water; Delsin has Smoke, Neon, Video, and Concrete) due to a physiological trait (Korra has the spirit of the Avatar, allowing her chi to pass through all of her body better than the rest and manipulate the elements; Delsin has a Conduit gene that lets him obtain the abilities of other Conduits upon extensive contact and draining Core Relays).

3. Both started their journeys being childish and/or immature but through their actions and strife, rose above and became better people and consequently, better idols and saviors.

Personal reasons: I wanted this to be Korra's MU during Season 8, but alas, it was not to be. More than anything, I want them to react to each other's powers. Delsin would ask Korra if her conduit gene is like his but better since she doesn't need to absorb matter to change her powers and Korea asks about how the heck is he manipulating light and becoming invisible. After all, conduit powers and bending are different in their manifestation, how they manipulate the environment, and more importantly, how they interact with each other.

THE FIGHT:

Art and animation: The animation will most likely be 2D like all Avatar fights, but the dream is to have it be a 3D battle with fluid movement and lots of different camera angles. The animation from Korra vs Storm is good for Korra, so reusing it would benefit her, but Delsin tends to fight from afar using his projectiles. While he does have dashes, his chain, Comet Drop, and some support abilities, Delsin is mainly a ranged fighter, and the 3D team works best with characters that have a wide assortment of abilities, especially ones used in midair or while running. However, to be able to get the most out of both worlds, the fight is best in 2D, and it's not like Cole was limited to ranged combat in his fight. It could really go either way and still be great regardless, and that's honestly the best part. I really want this fight to be a finale so it could be a long fight with lots of pretty stuff to gawk at, especially since Spiritbending, Neon, and Video allow for flashy maneuvers.

Possible setup:

In a metropolitan area, the Second Son is doing stencil art dedicated to his dear brother. "Man, I miss you, Reggie."

"Hey! You can't paint the walls of this city!" Delsin sighs. He misses his brother, but not his overly bureaucratic attitude. As he turns around and puts down the spray paint, he sees Korra who is looking a little stern. "Hey, there. Isn't art a form of self-expression? I'm building a masterpiece here, and it'll be my gift to the world."

"That's fair, but you're painting on public property. Unless you have a permit to do so, step away from graffiti." Korra was a little miffed. The graffiti looked cool, and it looked to be a dedication to a departed soul, but duty calls. Besides, it's just graffiti, not a murder or kidnapping. If he refuses, however, she can have her way.

"Who are you, the fun police? I'm not hurting anyone." It's like dear Reggie was still with him: being a pain and not letting him have his fun.

Korra smirked. "Fun? Oh, I'll show you fun." She got into a fighting stance. Hey, if you're having fun on the job, good for you, right? It's been a boring day of patrolling, so she's itching for entertainment.

"Oh."

FIGHT! :

1. As it turns out, she was nothing like Reggie. Korra firebends at Deals and catches him off guard. However, Delsin absorbs the smoke, unharmed. This causes Korra to look puzzled. "Wait, how did he- He barely moved." She then attempts to earthbend, summoning rising pillars, but Delsin smoke dashes away. "How did you do that?" Korra had never seen someone turn into smoke before. Maybe she should ask him how to do that.

2. "I'm a conduit. I mean, aren't you one?" Delsin starts to use Smoke Shot as he moves around, but they're easily dodged and dispersed with more earthbending. "I'm the Avatar, master of all the elements." "Is that right?" Delsin uses a smoke dash to sneak up on Korra from behind and tosses a Sulfur Bomb.

3. The Sulfur Bomb explodes, but Korra just rolls up to Delsin and engages him directly. Delsin tries to punch her and use his smoke-imbued chain, but all his attacks are evaded or blocked. Korra roughs up Delsin, punching him in the face, kneeing him in the stomach, etc. Delsin drops another Sulfur Bomb that leaves Korra coughing, and attempts to subdue her.

4. Korra bends away the ash and sulfur and launches Delsin into a building using waterbending. Delsin is able to recover and takes the high ground through a smoke vent. On the roof, he shoots a Cinder Missile. Korra is able to notice and puts out the Missile before it hits. "Wait, she didn't drain water." Come to think of it, she was able to use fire and then the cement beneath. Is her Conduit gene better than his? Korra starts to airbend projectiles and Delsins fires Smoke Shots (like Might Guy's Morning Peacock vs All Might's air punches). Korra then firebends her way to Delsin and delivers a powerful kick, sending him flying.

5. Delsin crashes onto another building, but drains the neon from the nearby signs. Noticing some injured civilians, Delsin starts to heal them, earning him Good Karma. As Korra rushes in, Delsin rushes her first due to his Neon Dash. "Wait, are you a Spiritbender!?" She's good up close, but it doesn't matter if she can't hit him. He strikes her with his chain, but Korra grabs it and uses a powerful earthbending punch on him. Delsin Neon Dashes away. "Oh, no you don't!" She knows that he has powerful ranged attacks, so she needs to be close to him. She gets on an air scooter and chases after him as she shoots air at him, chasing him to near a spirit portal.

6. Delsin is able to outrun Korra and fires a stasis bubble. Korra uses a firebending soccer kick on the bubble, punting it away. Delsin runs before he's hit with his own bubble (he doesn't seem to be affected by it in-game, however). He then rushes up to Korra who attempts to strike him, but he instead rushes past her and fires a phosphor beam, successfully hitting her and knocking her off balance, and successfully uses a stasis bubble. He attempts to obtain more powers, but he feels nothing. "What..? Then how..? You must not be a Prime Conduit." Korra gets back up in fiery fashion and Delsin employs hit-and-run tactics, firing phosphor and neon beam, but Korra is able to block with her bending. She then does Zuko's "breakdance" and catches Delsin off-guard.

7. Delsin quickly heals by absorbing video from a nearby TV. He then uses Video Torrent. Korra simply dodges and attempts to get in close, but Delsin strikes using his longsword, damaging Korra a fair amount. He then uses Bloodthirsty Blades. Korra dashes away, but is unable to avoid the blades, so she destroys one with a fireball, another by raising a stone wall, and the last one by creating an ice structure. Korra is then attacked by a... Is that a spirit!? Whatever it is, it has wings, metal plating, and is currently shooting a laser. Korra dodges and bends water and freezes the spirit, but it... Disappears into wisps of light... These are not like the spirits she knows, but she is then pushed and pinned to the ground by smaller swords. Delsin appears out of thin air. "How did you do that!?" "A friend lent me his powers, you could say." Ok, that is NOT how bending works. Using a combination of earth, wind, and fire, Korra frees herself by creating a crater underneath her, enters the Avatar State, and then bends the concrete around Delsin, encasing him in a shell, and bends him to her. He's a fire bender and a spirit bender, but he is not the Avatar.

8. Delsin absorbs the concrete before being fully encapsulated and does his boulder dash. He starts to engage Korra, but she is nimble enough to dodge. Korra then gets an idea and starts to make her way to the spirit portal. Delsin starts to climb on top of a building and does a Comet Drop, doing his pose on the Second Son cover art, and he starts to fire concrete shrapnel and a concrete barrage, but Korra instead redirects them. However, Korra gets a leg up and is able to use bending to get Delsin into the Spirit World and she enters.

9. In the Spirit World, Delsin is taken aback due to the colors and... weird animal things... He doesn't get to gawk for long as Korra makes her bombastic entrance. However, she firebends at Delsin who promptly absorbs the smoke, but he's starting to struggle and to get hurt so he smoke dashes away

10. Korra wins by overwhelming and overpowering Delsin. Since they are in the Spirit World, Korra becomes stronger, and in the Avatar State, she is in no need to wait for Delsin to exhaust himself. Even as he tries to distance himself and use his sulfur bombs and sulfur headshots, the Avatar is easily able to bend them away. She then is able to unleash a powerful bending attack that overwhelms Delsin and he blacks out, thinking of Reggie. After Korra finishes the job, she exits the Avatar State. "That was fun, but I'm sorry. I hope you find you and your departed family can reunite here". She then bows to her opponent. She's fiery and hotheaded, but she's still empathetic.

11. Delsin wins by being able to stall Korra and connect a successful attack. The fire is hurting him, but if he keeps his distance, all it serves is to fuel and heal him. He gets in a good sulfur headshot, briefly stunning Korra and leaving her coughing again. He then tosses another sulfur bomb, leaving Korra coughing more. He then does his Orbital Drop, but as he reaches the apex, Korra bends away the smoke and then launches herself, attempting one last attack. They meet halfway, and after a noticeable explosion, both are left on the ground, Delsin tired, and Korra dead. Korra, in her last moments, apologizes to her friends and family for being able to say goodbye. Delsin recollects himself, and upon returning to the Human World, finishes his graffiti of Reggie. However, we see him painting another mural, and he says "Say hi to my brother for me". He then turns to leave, and we see a mural of Korra, reading "Dedicated to the Avatar."

RESULT:

Strengths and weaknesses:

Korra:

+ Physically stronger and more durable.

+ More experienced.

+ Has superior training.

+ Easier access to her elemental manipulation.

= Firebending and Earthbending fuel Delsin, but Smoke and Concreted are easily negated.

- Energybending cannot negate the Conduit Gene.

- Energybending cannot manipulate Video or Neon.

- Is vulnerable to suffocation. When she was poisoned as she was. suffocating, the Avatar State only held off the poison and not the suffocation.

- Can be immobilized via the stasis.

Delsin Rowe:

+ Can heal from firebending and earthbending.

+ Has a healing factor.

+ Is likely faster with Neon.

+ Neon allows for fast attacks, and the stasis bubbles are immobilizing.

+ Infamous Delsin has easy access to instant kill options.

= Firebending and Earthbending fuel him, but Smoke and Concrete attacks are negated.

- Untrained in physical combat.

- Physically far weaker and faster. Is also slower without Neon or Video.

- Is not immune to fire when using smoke or to earth when using concrete.

- Cannot access all his elements at will.

- Draining a power source leaves him vulnerable.

- There's no evidence to say that he can resist being immobilized by being surrounded/encased in concrete like he did to Augustine.

- Cannot obtain bending powers as they are spiritual and not genetic. Even then, he'd need Core Relays and blast shards to be able to get any use of his newfound abilities and to be able to absorb any other element.

Ending puns:

"The Avatar's victory was elemental."

"Delsin got a concrete victory."

MUSIC:

Name: "Four Infamous Elements"

The title makes reference to both combatants' abilities to manipulate four elements or states of matter as well as the inFamous game series' name. Brandon Yates used Second Legends for his commissioned track, so I cannot use it.

Art: The art would depict Delsin's chain forming a circle imbued with Raava. One half would have Korra's elements spiraling outwards. The other half would have Delsin's elements spiraling inward, forming a Yin Yang. The center of the circle would have a gene symbol like that of the Second Son power skill tree on the side of Korra's elements and the symbol of Raava on the side of Delsin's elements.

Sound: the start of the music is that of the Second Son main theme and it plays during the initial confrontation. The music is kicked up a notch when Korra first attacks, where the sound shifts to be more Avatar-centered, but with some hip-hop elements, and even has parts and bits that sound like Second Legends as a callback, much like Final Formersr referenced Deceptive Tyrants. As the battle gets closer to its climax, the sound is that of the main theme of Avatar, but with a mix of Asian instruments and rock instrumentation.

Holy cow, I love doing this one! Especially imagining the track and its art due to the possibilities of symbolism.

THANK YOU AND I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!

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Ooh, another interesting match-up! Although, to be honest, I already have my doubts as to how this plays out. Great fight idea, though!

URBAN SPRAWL

Honestly, the Avatar fights have been kinda meh in Death Battle, usually because they've all been so one-sided (except for the first, Toph v Gaara).

I really like the premise of the fight and how it plays out. Unfortunately, I gotta give it to Korra here for one reason; resource. Korra can bend anything from anywhere with little limit on where. Delsin, however, has very specific sources from which he can draw his power, such as his concrete abilities can only be drawn from conduit enforcers gifted with the same powers.

Still, though, it would be a pretty neat fight.

#submission #death battle #ideas #legend of korra #avatar korra #delsin rowe #infamous delsin #infamous second son #korra #tlok korra #my submissions #infamous #the legend of korra #my thoughts

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