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ap-kinda-lit · 4 months

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Saiyan Squad AU (part 1) ⭐️

The Saiyan homeworld is Sadala (because Planet Vegeta is ridiculous), but its capital city is Vegeta, where, of course, the royal family resides. Sadala itself is a conglomerate of Australia, Asia, and Africa and the Saiyans are a mishmash akin to the Spartans, Celts, Aztecs, and Mongols. Sadala is pretty much like a space version of Australia: it’s a chaotic death trap from its climate and wildlife to its inhabitants. The Saiyans are made up of clans and have a feudal system, but they all serve the one ruling monarch.

Saiyans act as mercenaries and hunters. Like Predator, they are best known for traveling galaxies to find worthy opponents to fight. They’re feared and reviled as a race of barbaric savages.

They also look more animalistic: they have pointed ears, sharper teeth, claws, and some fur on their bodies.

Saiyans have had a feud with the Cold Empire for a very long time. At one point, they were allied together but the Cold Empire looked down at the Saiyans and began to subjugate them, so the Saiyans started resisting which led to all out war. When Frieza came to power, he amped up the war. He killed King Vegeta III but spared his young son, Vegeta III, to make the boy his puppet king/child hostage.

The city of Vegeta’s center is where the royalty live, while its outskirts is made up of the slums the third class inhabit. This is where Raditz and Kakarot are born and live with their parents Gine and Bardock. Gine serves as a cook to the troops and the residents while Bardock is a captain of his own troop. Gine and Bardock both teach the boys about hunting but Bardock is mostly in charge of their combat training. The boys start their formal training at five-years-old and are put in the same unit as young king Vegeta.

Raditz is the atypical rough and crass Saiyan boy, but Kakarot is another story. He inherited Gine’s kind heart and good nature, making him seem as weak by most Saiyans. He’s unfortunately treated as an outcast and subjected to bullying from his peers. However, he’s passionate and hard-working and wants to become a great and strong warrior, like his big brother and dad, so he’s committed to training hard. It pays off and he makes enough progress so that when his father Bardock talks with the higher-ups he’s able to convince them to put Kakarot on the same unit as Raditz and Vegeta under Nappa, Vegeta’s guardian.

The Saiyan-Frieza feud reaches its turn years later, when Vegeta approaches age fifteen. By then, he’s old enough by law to rule on his own and he’s determined to break free from Frieza’s grasp. As Vegeta begins to secure his independence and throne and wiggle free, Frieza has become fed up with the Saiyans and sees them as a genuine threat. The final nail in the coffin is when he and his men consult the Kanassans on the future of Frieza’s reign. A Kanassan oracle foretells that Frieza will meet his end at the hands of a golden warrior, presumed to be the legendary Super Saiyan. Frieza straight away comes up with a diabolical plan.

To everyone’s surprise, Frieza not only agrees to Vegeta ruling independently, he also agrees to signing a truce with the Saiyans and ending the bad blood for good. In celebration, a formal coronation is held for Vegeta along with ecstatic festivities all over Sadala. Every Saiyan is recalled back to homeworld for the momentous occasion. However, Bardock and his troop stumble upon Frieza’s real plan: to get all the Saiyans together in one place, make them vulnerable, and destroy them all along with their planet altogether. Bardock’s team is attacked and killed to quiet them but Bardock survives and despite being wounded he races to tell everyone and save his family.

Bardock barely makes it back in time. Just as he’s warning the others, Frieza’s soldiers attack and Frieza himself forms a Death Ball to strike at Sadala. Saiyans desperately try to fight back and escape, but many are killed by Frieza soldiers and many more as the Death Ball collides and the planet begins to destruct. Bardock fights on while trying desperately to find his family.

During Sadala’s destruction, Gine and teenaged Raditz and ten-year-old Kakarot manage to find a pod, but it can only fit two of them. Gine makes the boys get in and go without her, assuring it will all be fine (she knows she’s probably not going to make it, but at least her children will be safe). Sadala finally explodes into oblivion just as Raditz & Kakarot make it to safety. Bardock barely makes it out in time. Gine doesn’t make it.

The Saiyans are thusly reduced to the brink of extinction as only a few thousand remain. Surviving Saiyans flee to a desolated planet to recover. This includes Vegeta, Nappa, Raditz, Kakarot, and Bardock (who barely made it out in time). Because of his wounds, Bardock is put in a comatose state in a healing tank for a few days.

In spite of the loss of Sadala and the majority of the Saiyans, Vegeta swears revenge on Frieza. All remaining Saiyans are ordered to group up and spread out across the galaxies. The war against the Frieza Empire is to continue by any means necessary. Saiyans resort to whipping up secret settlements on planets and fighting back via piracy and guerrilla warfare. The endgame is to tear down Frieza’s empire brick by brick and, ultimately, kill Frieza himself.

Vegeta calls on Raditz and Kakarot to join him and Nappa on his quest to hunt and kill Frieza. Vegeta initially doesn’t want to include Kakarot, whom he deems a liability, but acquiesces.

Frieza puts out a bounty on each and every remaining Saiyan, most of all on the “so-called King of Saiyans” Vegeta.

And so, the Vegeta Force moves out. But they become known as the “Saiyan Squad”. Vegeta and Raditz don’t like it, but Kakarot thinks it’s a cool name.

#Saiyan squad au #my idea #notes #dragon ball #dragon ball z #dbz #saiyans #Sadala #Vegeta #Goku #kakarot #raditz #Bardock #Nappa #Gine #dragon ball au #alternate universe #Saiyan squad

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verishii · 1 year

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I would very much like to hear about ur hunger games au

Oh Hell Yeah!

I've always been a fan of Hunger Games AUs that focus on people post games, where they have to try and find themselves and live with what they did on top of navigating the snakes nest of the Capitol.

I'll put this under a read more as to not clog up the dash.

General AU Stuff:

Most Hunger Games canon stays the same, however Hermitcraft canon gets mixed and mingled in there. Same way Mumbo was the youngest ever Hermit member to join at 17, in this he was the youngest victor to win at 12/13.

Their ages are the same as they are irl, since years have passed since they competed. No Children Here

Personally i am really fond of the idea of Evil Xisuma taking on the role of president snow - his legal name is Xisuma, but since Xisuma Void won everyone just calls him Evil Xisuma and victor Xisuma got to keep his name LMAO

Why Yes they overthrow the Capitol again. Frankly, with these people i don't think any other ending is possible.

With more character specific stuff though, i only have some that i have real concrete ideas for. I don't watch everyone so if people who do watch the ones i miss/have not much on have ideas i'd love to hear them!!

Bdubs:

From district 10, he was the one who lowkey revolutionized the games by winning using expert camouflage - a technique that was more finesse focused and less strength, something that what was not expected.

That gave a hell of a lot of hope to other tributes though in following games, and made the career districts hate him because it was 'cowardly'.

During his games he would always sleep at night, and due to the aforementioned skill was able to usually get a solid 8 hours. People poked fun at this during the post game interviews, and it became a running joke associated with him to the public.

Reality is though, that Bdubs knew that people fuck up the most when they're sleep deprived. District 10 has 19 thousand people and one million livestock. He Has Seen The Consequences Of Not Good Enough Sleep. Being better rested then everyone else on top of knowing how to go without food, keep hidden and let the others tear each other apart was how he won.

Cubfan:

From district 6 and dreams of using the vast amount of technology at their hands to actually venture out into space instead of like. working on fucking trains

Capitol often has him working in district 3 because he's "wasted" in district 6, which has Cub internally seethe.

Docm77:

From district 3 and frankly, he should not have survived his games. Literally won because his opponent bled to death faster than him.

His eye and arm were destroyed during that final fight, and his stylist thought it would be "fun" to make his prosthetics reminiscent of his district, without actually asking for his input on the matter.

As one of the older victors he had to deal with the Capitol back when there was less victors, and the Capitol was more than willing to subjugate the ones they had to their whims.

Yeah sorry your son got experimented on. yeah sorry they decided his games weren't memorable enough for a gimmick and decided his post games looks worked better. yeah sorry about that.

He and Cub hang out together :)

Ethos:

Realistically he should be from district 3 or 5, but since he's Canadian i want to put him in district 7 so bad.

ICONIC Hunger games. Literally in the top 10 for reviewability according to people from the Capitol :) meanwhile that hunger games has Ethos running around both in a completely delirious freaked out state and also like. completely detached? A hell mess of dissociation and too much being in the moment

He deployed a ton of traps that would kill without him actually having to be there, and contraptions that would get him resources. Dude was constantly on the move, and was like a busy bee. The way he kept spectators on their feet at home, and generated massive amount of hype for what he did next, was the only reason the game makers let him do this shit.

His eye was injured but not wholly ripped out like Doc, so when his got repaired his stylist decided dying his iris red would be a fun reminder of his 'deadly gaze' :)

False:

From district 2, False volunteered for the games as she was the most eligible girl in her years. Career district go brrr

Still the Queen of Hearts and Bodyparts, except she got that title when she accidentally disemboweled someone right on top of her trying to kill her. yeah she had to smile at the post games interview when they played that and try not to remember how warm the blood was, how it got into her mouth, how she could feel organs and see spine.

Unlike the others who try to distance themselves from the game, False usually tries to mentor. False knows she's capable and able - knows her district produces girls who fight exactly like her, so she's the best to tell them how to direct it.

Each one that comes home is a triumph, but for the ones that don't she remembers. Tries to learn from their deaths to provide better, but carries it with her and it's starting to make her bitter.

okay wow this is getting long, i can do a part 2 if you'd like for Scar, Grian, Gem, Etc !!

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft hunger games au #bdoubleo100 #cubfan135 #docm77 #ethoslab #falsesymmetry #i wanna draw this au so bad #i have so many thoughts esp about cleo (actually died in the arena for a brief moment)#and grian (fave of the capitol who is Actively Plotting Their Downfall)

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trouble-kitten · 1 month

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Chapter 1 -- Ghirahim has a very bad day.

Posting this before I convince myself it's cringe again...

Just a little thing I've been working on, don't mind me :)

Ghirahim pushed himself up, panting. His hands shook as he gripped the hilts of his twin blades. The prince had never faced an adversary of this power. Before him, his opponent boasted a hulking form and a mane of blazing hair. His eyes smoldered with power. Ghirahim had heard of him before, had heard of his growing conquest, but he never expected that his home would fall to the self-proclaimed demon-king’s latest subjugation.

He lunged towards his opponent, arms arcing outwards in a viscous slash designed to knock the enemy backwards. Demise barely faltered. Ghirahim withdrew, studying his opponent, but in a blur of motion the demon king struck back. Ghirahim teleported out of the way, breath quickening. How could someone be so big and so fast at the same time?

He darted in closer in the aftermath of the blow, striking as Demise unveiled a weak point for a fraction of a second. But he wasn’t quite fast enough. Ghirahim’s sword bounced uselessly off of thick plated scales, sending him reeling back. He stumbled for a moment, off balance, then crashed into the wall behind him as Demise struck across his chest. He gasped in pain, head spinning.

Stars danced in his vision. The room spun. Was it over? NO. No, it couldn't be. Not yet.

He tried to push himself to his feet, but black was creeping into his vision. He could feel his heart beating sluggishly in his throat. He gasped, chest aching as he tried, desperate, to rise. To move.

The next thing he knew he was being dragged into the throne room. He registered his parents, kneeling some ways away, and blood everywhere, staining the tapestries, the floor. His head spun relentlessly.

“It’s over,” Demise growled, from what Ghirahim could tell, in the direction of the King and Queen, “Your Prince has been defeated, your Princess has fled. Surrender the crown and accept your fate.”

So his sister wasn’t dead. Good. If Kalis was still out there, the kingdom stood a fighting chance. Ghirahim bit back a groan of pain as he shifted on the floor.

His mother spoke next. “We would rather die than surrender our people to the likes of you.” Her words held the fury of generations -- quite literally, since during this battle she had called on every royal ancestor for strength.

Demise narrowed his eyes. “Then you will,” he snarled. In a single movement, both royals were decapitated.

Ghirahim sucked in a gasp, tears filling his eyes. A strangled choking noise erupted from his throat.

The world started to blur again. He felt himself dragged off, vaguely aware that Demise was speaking. Then they were on the terrace, the one his mother used to make official proclamations. He could smell smoke. He wondered why he hadn’t joined his parents in the afterlife.

Ghirahim woke with a start in an unfamiliar place. The room was small and circular, from what he could tell, with one window letting in entirely too much light, and a four poster bed with red drapings. Where was he?

Not at home, that much was obvious. The last thing he remembered was seeing something out the window of a carriage -- though he had no idea how he had gotten there or what happened next.

Perhaps he had finally made it to the afterlife. And perhaps the afterlife was one small-ish stone room with absolutely no other occupants. That was a bit unexpected, and certainly not at all like the stories from his childhood. Less garden, more industrial.

He tried to sit up, but an agonizing stabbing sensation in his chest discouraged him. Probably not dead if he still felt pain, he supposed. He twisted his head as much as he could manage to inspect his new surroundings.

In addition to the too-bright window he could now see a vanity and a small chair, as well as the hints of a rug at the edge of the bed. The floor itself was stone and there was a wooden door opposite to the window.

It was through that door that he could hear murmuring, growing closer, and soft footsteps.

Ghirahim’s pulse quickened, and, ignoring his pain, he pushed off the blankets weighing down his legs and rolled over, only to tumble gracelessly down from the bed. The pristine white bandages wrapping around his torso quickly soaked through as his wound reopened, but the prince barely had time to gasp in pain before the voices reached his door.

There was a click of the lock and the squeak of the knob -- then a crash as whoever had entered the room dropped something very heavy and very ceramic. A host of voices -- becoming rapidly more panicked by the second -- in a language Ghirahim was fairly sure he had heard before clamored at the entryway.

Before the hysterical chattering could devolve into full blown yelling, Ghirahim caught the attention of the mysterious interlopers. He intended to say something along the lines of, “Hello, my name is Prince Ghirahim, who are you and where am I? And also, is anyone alive after the battle and how can I get back to my kingdom?” but all that came out was a feeble “hrrrhhhggggn.”

Three faces appeared above him, peering down with red and yellow eyes. They all had dusty, blue-gray skin and red hair, and vivid turquoise markings peeked out of what must have been livery. Servants then. Ghirahim tried to sit up and greet them, and perhaps restore some of his dignity while he was at it, but the throbbing in his chest intensified tenfold.

“Oh, no, don’t move!” cried the one on the right, “Here, we can help you. Idma, Tika, give me a hand.”

The three of them bustled Ghirahim back into bed and cleaned up the blood that had started to pool on the floor.

“You really aren’t supposed to be awake,” said the one who had spoken before, “but I guess the medication works differently on you than it does on us Twili.”

So that’s why Ghirahim thought they looked familiar. He’d attended numerous functions with the King and Queen of Twilight, but no one had heard from them in over ten years. Had they, too, fallen to Demise’s conquest? Ghirahim bit his lip. No one had mentioned their strange disappearance outside of idle gossip, assuming it was just an odd custom or ritual. The Twili were known to be odd. Had they reached out for help? Or did they just quietly fall into foreign hands, never to be heard from again?

Ghirhahim was jolted from his reverie when someone poked the wound on his chest.

“He popped a few stitches.” It was the woman on his left speaking now. “We’ll have to redo them before we change the dressing.”

Ghirahim hissed under her gruff ministrations. She stared at him in reply.

“Well, that’s ok!” The third voice was much younger than Ghirahim expected, something from the girl who was carrying a stone basin. “We can manage that, right Idma? Or should we call someone…”

“If it were anyone else,” Tika growled, “I would say we could handle it, but for him? We should probably call the doctor. I don’t feel like dying today.” She glared at Ghirahim as though he had personally offended her by nearly dying and being taken hostage. He glared back.

“O-okay,” chimed the man Ghirahim still didn’t know the name of, “I can go back down. Why don’t you two try to get the loose thread out and put some of the ointment on, and I’ll be back with Dr. Ograhn in a bit.” He grimaced a bit, though whether at the thought of the stairs or in displeasure with the doctor, Ghirahim wasn’t sure.

“Ok, Anz, good luck!” chirped the girl -- Tika, he supposed. Idma rolled her eyes and turned to the basin, which Tika had placed on the bedside table.

“Allright,” she began, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Ghirahim did not like how grim that simple sentence sounded.

#legend of zelda #ghirahim #skyward sword #demon lord ghirahim #eek I've never shared stuff here before #nobody judge me okay #i like him a normal amount #hopefully there will be a part two #chapter 1 #I just can't stop thinking about him #and giving him different backstories #Ghirahim my beloved #there's a little violence but I don't think it's too bad.#idk #loz #I've put way too much thought into this #there's a whole social system in my head #ghirahim skyward sword #loz ss

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mathematurgist · 1 year

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Bleach Captains if they were in the Avatar World: Part I

This is a short summary of how various Bleach characters could be fused into the Avatar universe, with regards to their powers and abilities, and how they would fit in the world of Avatar. Additionally, snippets about how the lore of the Bleach universe might fit in with the lore of the avatar universe. Here is a link to part 2 and part 3

Yamamoto

The most powerful firebender in recorded history whose strength surpassed the Avatar's. His unmatched prowess with flame allows him to not just produce vast quantities of fire, but also directly manipulate the volatile element (similar to how a waterbender bends water); additionally, he can control his inner flame to allow him to maintaining his mental and physical state (in a similar manner to how Kyoshi lived hundreds of years). He left the Fire Nation and founded the Soul Society during the reign of Fire Lord Yosor, during this time of great upheaval many people, from all nations flocked to the Soul Society, under the protection of the most powerful and dangerous warriors at the time. Since that day, the Soul Society has remained as a neutral fifth nation, despite many external attempts to "unite" it with both the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom.

Soi Fon

The Fon Clan were originally a group of Air Nomads who were captured and subjugated by the Shihoin Clan before the era of Avatar Szeto, when the Soul Society was founded the Shihoin Clan brought along the Fon Clan as their retainers. As the centuries pass nothing remains of the Fon's nomadic heritage other than their bending, with Soi Fon being one of the last remaining air benders and the 9th clan head. She utilises her bending to manipulate the air currents and pressure around her body, allowing her to move at speeds faster than the human eye can see. She carries a short blade on her back, and wears a black and gold gauntlet with a middle finger stinger; the stinger contains a poison which can kill with two stabs. Her most powerful technique involves encircling her body with a hyper-sonic vortex of air, once created she can maintain this vortex indefinitely.

Gin Ichimaru

An incredibly cunning earthbender; without warning he can rapidly move the ground under his opponents feet, which he uses to create openings to strike with his blade. However, his blade is where his true power lies, he claims that he has mastered metalbending a particular alloy which forms his blade. It appears as though he thins and stretches his blade allowing him to lunge and strike at opponents from great distances. However this is a lie, he has actually mastered bending a the dust of a rare substance, which is both extremely poisonous and capable of being compressed into a dense blade. During battle, he earthbends his blade expanding the dust at incredible speed to slice through his opponents before returning all of the substance to it's original blade form (to keep the poisonous nature of the blade a secret). The top-speed of his dust expansion technique is faster than the human eye can follow, however he only unleashes the true speed in the last moments of a strike, to keep his opponent's off-guard and guarantee a hit.

Unohana Retsu

The first and most brutal bloodbender in history, in every nation she was regarded as the most heinous villain alive, bringing slaughter and death wherever she went. In battle, her used a large curved blade to slice open her opponents, before draining the blood from their body through the newly formed wound; she would then use this new blood to create razor thin sweeping arcs of blood to carve through yet more opponents, thus repeating the cycle. Additionally, she used her bloodbending on herself, forcibly moving her body at incredible speeds to make her one of the deadliest swordsman in the world. However, as the decades passed (after the Soul Society was formed) the stories about this monster faded over time, eventually becoming myth and legend. This is because Unohana forsook her murderous ways and instead utilised her bloodbending with her natural waterbending healing to become one of the most powerful healers in the world. As a conseqeunce over this mastery of healing and self-bloodbending Unohana has successfully extended her lifespan by hundreds of years and granted herself eternal youth.

Sosuke Aizen

A charismatic and intelligent waterbender who has completely mastered spirit bending and seeks to use this ability to transform himself beyond his present human body. As a water bender his control over the element is so fine that he can create illusions to manipulate his opponents. He controls the water vapour in the air to diffuse and reflect light to create a visual component to his illusions; he vibrates the water molecules in the air to produce pressure waves to either create false sounds or mask real sounds. However, it is his studies into the spirit realm and spirit bending are what make him exceptionally dangerous; Aizen came to the conclusion that there is no single spirit (other than Vaatu) which is stronger than Raava. Therefore, to surpass the Avatar he would need to forge a new spirit by amalgamating the souls of humans and lesser spirits. Through the process of creation, this forged spirits will would be subjugated by Aizen's own will, thus when he merges with the amalgam Aizen will retain his sense of self.

#bleach #ATLA #gin ichimaru #sosuke aizen #retsu unohana #soi fon #genryusai shigekuni yamamoto #OP

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swtorpadawan · 1 year

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For NPC Asks how about Rylee Dray and the Lady of Pain?

Ask Me About SWTOR NPCs Thank you, @jjjwhovian !

And… hoo, boy! Did you just hit the jackpot! LOTS of notes on these two!

So first for Rylee Dray - You may already be familiar with some headcanons I have for her in my Halcyon Legacy: The Slice Girls Its possible that not long after Zu'fanda Pampya (my Sith Inquisitor) was killed, the Cult of the Screaming Blade collapsed. Destris Veran, Rylee's partner, was killed during the fallout, and Rylee was soon left on her own, without protection. Its possible that SOMEONE snapped her up, effectively enslaving her for her slicer skills. Maybe its also possible that someone else (like Kira, Mako, and company) will hopefully come rescue her someday. (We can hope.)

The Lady of Pain - the leader of the Exchange of Tatooine - does not take the Eternal Empire's subjugation of Tatooine well. She conducts a vicious guerilla-style resistance campaign against the Zakuulans. But after about a year, it goes south, and she's captured by Tarso Gren, the Exarch of Tatooine. Imprisoned aboard the Star Fortress, she's subjected to…. well. It's bad. I'm not getting into it. A few years later, Tarso is visiting a colleague: Forta Gair, the Exarch of Belsavis. On a lark - visiting a prison-world with a dreaded criminal of his own - he brought the Lady of Pain with him. The two Exarchs were both a bit sadistic by this point, and it eventually occurred to them to have an impromptu gladiator fight between the Lady sand someone Forta was keeping prisoner. (You'll recall Zakuulans have a history of being into gladiator fighting, including with enslaved fighters.) The fight was vicious. It started unarmed, but both were allowed to use random objects as makeshift weapons. Both women were just fighting for survival, knowing what would happen to them if they didn't fight. Ultimately, the Lady of Pain lost. She died because two Exarchs had a bet going, and were looking for cheap entertainment. Oh - and her opponent? Who was forced to kill her? That was an imprisoned twi'lek smuggler named Bas'riish.

Thank you!

Tagging @voidendron - Because.

#swtorpadawan asks #Ask Me About SWTOR NPCs #rylee dray #the lady of pain #jjjwhovian #voidendron #forta gair #tarso gren #exarch #zakuul #the exchange #star fortress

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judgementofgod · 7 months

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He had been alerted of an intruder in the Wandenreich so Captain Quilge sent some of his subordinates to investigate the area, they informed him that it was a white-haired man shooting Reishi arrows, a deserter perhaps?

-So a Quincy defector...

A smile came to his face, his heart was pounding, he was excited that he was here. Ryuken Ishida. He ordered his men to take him alive, the deserter was so easily subdued and brought before the Captain. Quilge smiled perversely, since that man defected he dreamed of having him like that, dominated in front of his feet again, as soon as he saw him he couldn't avoid slapping his face, he enjoyed looking at him like that, on his knees and with a grimace of pain, that made his blood boil and his heart beat more and more, he squatted down only to take his chin hard and make him look at him. -How long has it been since you've been here? Do you know what they do to deserters here? He approached his ear to say a few words to him but stopped in his tracks and approached him smelling the scent of his opponent, wishing so much that moment so unique and so intimate, so comforted he got up and asked his men to take his prisoner to a mast where he was tied with his hands on his head, he would really enjoy this.

The Captain approached a record player during his interrogation and put on a record while playing a melody.

youtube

He took a seat in a chair while he ordered the punishment to begin, the subordinates obeyed and began to beat the subjugated man with a whip. Quilge's smile denoted great satisfaction and he would take care of punishing him personally. The melody stopped in an instant and the Captain's smile was erased when he noticed that the one who entered that place of interrogation was Yhwach himself with his advisor Uryu Ishida, he quickly stood up to greet him properly. Yhwach had no reaction when he saw the deserter but Uryu only lowered his eyes to avoid seeing his father that way.

-Why didn't Captain Opie warn me of this unexpected visit?

Quilge knew he had made a mistake so he took a whip from his subordinates and offered it to his beloved King.

-I regret my audacity your majesty, I offer to be punished for my mistake.

Yhwach looked at Uryu.

-The successor will, he must learn to bring order to all SternRitters starting with you. Take off your gloves…

He ordered with that cold and hard voice, the Captain obeyed without hesitation and placed the palms of his hands upwards beginning to feel one by one the lashes on his hands, he did not complain even once until that boy, that young Uryu began to hit him with more intensity, only then he made a grimace of pain that cost him to be beaten severely until he bled, when it was over his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

Uryu returned after his lord. They both left the place but Jugram, who was left alone at the entrance looking into the distance, told the Captain

-You will take care of the prisoner but I don't want conflicts.

The Captain nodded and asked his men to take that man away, he was furious at being punished in that way by a non-pureblood.

#tw: abuse #tw: violence #quilge opie #ryuken ishida #uryu ishida #yhwach #jugram haschwalth #ryukquil #au: duringthewar #Youtube #personal rp

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honeydewhyeena · 1 year

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So, let me tell you guys about Karani

WARNING: The backstory of this character contains mentions of child neglect/abuse, harsh training, brainwashing, manipulation, indoctrination, starvation, slavery, forced marriages, tyranny, murder, regicide, cannibalism, incest, cub-murder and one-night affairs, though no description is explicit. Read at your own discretion.

Karani was born at the center of a huge pride up north, far away from any of the groups we know. Son of Mkoloni, a less than kind or caring father who was also the leader of a large kingdom. His mother, a regular huntress named Almasi, had been chosen by the king to continue his efforts to get the perfect heir. He was the oldest of the litter, not to mention the biggest, but he was still not enough to completely fulfill his father's outrageous demands. Still, he was brought up with the rest of his siblings as the "backup" in case the king never successfully found a suitable heir to his throne.

As a cub, Karani was expected to act maturely, never falter and especially, always obey his father's every order. The child was rarely allowed to be a cub, much less develop as such. This, mixed with the usual experience of witnessing the king's mistreatment of those beneath his high-ranks provoked a deep resentment from an early age on the cub. By the time he was a teenager, that resentment turned into rebellion and he was no longer a small child that the king could control and manipulate. Unlike his siblings, who were successfully subjugated and indoctrinated under their father's command, Karani could see the world outside their training grounds. He could see the families that were purposefully starved to death once their usefulness had reached an end, he could see the barely old enough lionesses that were forcefully wed to generals twice their age for nothing more than political power, and most horrifically for the teen, he could see how his mother and the other huntresses were mistreated for even the slightest slip during a hunt. Almasi, who had been forced to birth litter after litter of cubs for the king much like the other lionesses were, had grown weak rapidly and her condition only worsened. As much as Karani tried to feed her his own rations and stop guards from mistreating her, his efforts were in vain. His mother collapsed during a hunt one day and didnt rise again, exhausted after being forced to hunt while pregnant. Her cubs never saw the light of day.

After this, Karani's resistance to his father's will was a lot less subtle. With every passing day he grew restless, more aggressive during sparring sessions. With every opponent he faced, he could only imagine letting his claws rake down his father's throat until there was no skin left untouched. His rage was noticed by everyone, to the point where even generals began to fear the brute's strength. Containing him was no longer easy, and the only lion who still held some semblance of power over Karani was the king himself. Standing before him made the boy freeze, like he was still a cub, even if deep inside of him the seething need to murder the man was grand.

It all boiled over one day, once Karani was finally fully grown. He had returned from sentry duty earlier than he was supposed to, and what awaited him in the den was the thing that set off the ticking time bomb inside the young lion's chest: His father attempting to force himself upon Karani's sister. His own daughter.

That sight alone was enough for Karani to throw himself against the old king, fighting him with all his might. Despite being older and past his prime, the old bastard still packed a punch. They fought until both sides were bleeding at an alarming rate, and even when Mkoloni seemed like he had the upper paw.. He made the mistake of telling Karani how much he would enjoy finally being free to murder or use the rest of his "useless siblings". The seething rage of the young lion brought strength from deep within, enough to pounce at the old king and give Karani a chance to aim for his throat, delivering a killing bite that ended his tirany once and for all.

Emerging victorious from the king's lair and expecting a grand ovation, the male was met instead with the many claws of generals and soldiers, some who were even his own blood. Even in death, Mkoloni's mastery of manipulation and corruption was evident. Left outnumbered and with no choice, the brute ran away from his birth pride in exile. He didnt look back until days later, after making sure he had escaped the kingdom for good. After that, he wandered aimlessly through the vast territories of Africa, eating when he could and resting where he was able to. Lions didnt usually dare bother him, none too stupid to challenge a lion that was easily three times their size. That was until a certain group of bachelors came across him on their troubles, stupidly believing that five of them could overpower the former soldier. Big mistake. To nobody's surprise, each and every one of those hormone-ridden males were dealt with and disposed of, left rotting in the middle of the savannah. Neighbouring prides were quick to spread the rumor of the mighty dark lion who had murdered not one, not two, but five adult male lions. Those five lions quickly became seven, then an entire pride with lionesses and cubs. Word got around that the dangerous beast was out for vengeance, that he hated prides and was on a mission to destroy each and every single one of them. That you should keep watch of your cubs and lock up your daughters or Kucha Giza, The Dark Claw, would murder them and disgrace the youth with his bastard offspring. Bounties were put on his head, many set out to find him only to either meet their demise or run right back home, tail between their legs.

Truth of the matter was, while Karani would definitely not pass an opportunity to spend the night with anyone who was willing and would defend himself from unprovoked attacks, he was not actively looking to harm others. Living in exile was hard enough as it was, especially for a male so big, and he was getting by on basically the leftovers from other predators, food that his conquests would provide and, in particularly desperate times, the flesh of those who had dared challenge him. As if he needed it, now the burden of being known as a lion-eater was being put on his name. And at this point, he didnt particularly care if anyone believed in those stories. He just cared about staying alive. And if that meant feeding into this ungodly reputation just so others would stop bothering him, then so be it.

As for the present, the rogue has been scouting areas near the prides and managing to live off the abundant prey and water sources. He's counting on the fact that these prides may be aware of his reputation, despite that not being certain. He doesnt exactly plan on walking up to them and asking if they've heard of the terrible, child-murdering, wife-impregnating, lion-eating beast that is currently living in their vecinity.

The usually cold and stoic face of Karani hides a rough and rebellious inside. His personality to any stranger is coarse and intimidating unless he has decided maybe this person is worth his time. Which is usually when he thinks someone is hot, cute or he can gain something from them. Otherwise, he wont hesitate to kill them.

Once there is more trust involved, Karani is sly, flirty and even easygoing at times. He's charismatic and charming, but easy to rile up as well as short-tempered. He's also extremely competitive in certain situations. With people he truly cares about, he's sweet and protective as can be.

#the lion king oc #thelionking #the lion king #my characters #my ocs #ocs #oc stuff #original character #lion #lions #lion oc #feral oc #proship #single oc #bi oc

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j-graysonlibrary · 5 months

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The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four Chapter 42

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Four

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 118k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: In order to save the world from the continuous subjugation and potential annihilation at the hands of Tiandi, hard lines must be drawn. The Great Spirits that were imprisoned ages ago must be unsealed and awakened, no matter the consequences.

The players are divided—those who stand blindly with Tiandi, such as Xiang Merra and her disciples versus those who want to tear the system down and give the power back to the people. Even a few of the most religious Lords change their minds when they learn the truth of the world—that Tiandi is no more than a dictator with no love in his heart.

It is up to the last, real Xiang and the ill-fated Chaaya to put everything they have into tearing God from his throne and creating new possibilities for the future.

Full chapter 42 under the cut

Chapter ILII:

The waves from Undine headed for the line of soldiers before them and Raine used the water to help him speed down even faster. His trident met his first opponent and he swept water around them, sharpening at the edges and forming into icicles. There was just enough miasma in the air to take advantage of so Raine whipped about both his weapon and the element in his favor.

Kyrie, as a whole, marched behind him, keeping their edge by Undine, continuously, shooting out a jet of water at the defending army.

Beating and killing individuals on Merra’s side was not ideal, Raine thought as he worked to push further and further into the wall. He wanted to help take on the disciples—the Princes! Wading through the foot soldiers was both a waste of his skill and it left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

Those people, individually, were not his enemy.

They had been led astray by Merra or, so wholly, believed in the rightness of Tiandi that they were willing to do anything. Some attacked with the vigor of a wild animal which made Raine question whether or not any mind control was being used.

As far as he was aware, that was a kind of power that only came from miasma but he was not so naïve anymore as to assume Tiandi could not do the same.

By the south end of the field, Alf helped Evie from the ground as Merra retreated back to the middle of her soldiers. She would probably continue to make herself unreachable—as long as she could. And, now that Dio was gone, she probably believed she had no further business with Meala or she assumed they would crumble without a leader.

Their forces clashed as she slipped away and she called out, “Hwang! Deal with that water spirit!”

The Prince nodded and struck across the sky, leaving a trail of light behind him. He landed close by King Raime and Undine, causing the onslaught of water to dam up.

Though Raime was opened up to his element, thanks to his link with Undine, he still could not hope to keep even footing with a Prince. So, while he splashed water about, Hwang easily deflected and countered every move. Water turned to steam around him and Undine wrapped her arms around the Kings shoulders, prepared to keep him safe by whatever means necessary.

“You have made a fatal mistake in playing with forces you hardly understand,” Hwang spoke grimly as he raised his hand, summoning a shaft of light.

Yet it darkened and flickered until the form cracked and broke into pieces around him. His gasp of surprise let the King know that it was not something he had intended.

“Boy, you forget to take in all of your surroundings.” From the sea of Kyrie soldiers, a shadow appeared. Devi raised up, growing taller than she had ever shown herself in the caves and acting as a beacon for Raine to tell him there was trouble behind.

Devi let a cloud of miasma plume around her and Raine used it to his advantage, creating a myriad of spiking ice around the Prince’s feet. He jumped out of the way, naturally, and chose to float above the battle field instead but, with Undine’s endless reservoir of water and Devi’s seeping miasma, Raine could chase Hwang around with blades of ice for as long as he needed.

Merra saw the flash of blue and white but she believed the Heavenly Prince would persevere. Since the beginning of the battle, she had not seen Kira so she believed the Princes were safe from his miasma attacks for the time being.

Her head spun around, loosening her hair from the one, flimsy clip she had in place, and she surveyed the area until she spotted her disciples.

Kubja, as instructed, was keeping those from Meala from gaining any ground while Gongji helped Jun wear down some of the stronger opponents like Baiya, Kaz, and the two women who were shooting out miasma. Some of the Mistresses of Shadow, Merra realized and her jaw set.

They would be unevenly matched if the rest showed or if Gong decided to bring his traitorous self to the party.

Her eyes cut to the side where Bofu was, stumbling about and throwing his whip around as if he was a child, unsure of himself and clumsy. Ashoka, at least, was not attacking him but Heidi was certainly attempting to. Her focus was just divided—between defending Ashoka and helping out Baiya and Kaz against the others.

Merra considered what her best move could be and decided she needed to pull the strongest opponents away, one by one. She could not summon any beasts from the spirit realm as none would heed her call and, even if they did, the amount of miasma rising on the field made it far too dangerous. She would, instead, have to rely on her natural skill and ability.

Her sights became locked on Heidi.

She had been a disciple of Pangu’s, yes, but she had always been the weakest and, on top of that, she had spent the past two years, more or less, being out of practice. Why she was even there was beyond Merra but her death would prove to sway the tide of battle. If nothing else, the blow to morale would be devastating.

They were already reeling from the loss of Viren. Dio as well.

If she kept picking them off, they would eventually wear down and she could overwhelm them. Great Spirits or no.

“You need to help me disarm him at least!” Heidi shouted to Ashoka as a light-show of power and mutual blows painted their backdrop. She kept glancing over, making sure that each dramatic strike was not one that hit Baiya or Kaz. Every so often, she would ask Sylph to leap out and block an attack for them.

“I cannot fight him,” Ashoka shook her head. She had her staff held in front of her but she backed away from Bofu. When a random foot soldier, thinking themselves bold or a hero, tried to attack her, she would beat them back but she could not muster the same strength for her old comrade.

“Well…I can fight you…” Bofu threw his hand back and brought his whip out with a pitiful snap. It mostly just coiled forward, flopping to the ground.

Heidi tried to shout again but she was thrown to the side by some invisible force. Air but not from a blowback of the fight happening behind her. Baiya, Kaz, the Mistresses, and the Princes had moved even farther away and this gust came from a different direction.

She spun on her heels to face it with Sylph flying around her, ready to counter.

The dust that had been kicked up from the shuffling and elements began to settle as Merra made her way forward. “Ah, so you have a spirit as well.”

“It has been a while, Merra,” Heidi responded, planting her feet firmly into the earth and raising her axe up.

“Yes, and you do not feel any stronger—faerie aside,” she dismissed Sylph as if she were an afterthought. “You know, even the strongest of armor always has a fatal flaw, do you know what that is Heidi?”

“Overconfidence,” she answered with a strike of her axe, sending with it a shockwave of air.

Merra dodged the attack and responded with a spike of earth, nearly nicking Heidi’s leg. Had it not been for Sylph breaking the tip of it in half, she would have been skewered.

The Xiang narrowed her eyes. “No, it is that all armor has a link that is weak compared to the others and, once that link is broken, it allows for further attack. Do you know why I chose you to find? To attack?” She summoned balls of fire into her hands and smirked. “Because I know in a fight against just you, there is no way I cannot win.”

Her visibility disappeared in an instant—clouds of smoke rose up all around, blanketing the field in an ocher haze. Merra waved her hand in front of her face but she could see little besides the outlines and shadows of people. Even with whipping the air around her, the conflicting gusts coming from the nearby fight continued to blow the smoke back at her.

She growled and took a more defensive stance since she knew this was another stage in the attack. Whether Heidi was directly responsible or not, she could not tell, but she could guess she was being targeted for whatever came next.

An arrow passed through the smoke and nearly hit her but Merra slowed it enough to grab it with her hand. She clicked her tongue at the sight of it.

Agni.

“Throw more smoke vials!” Phay’s voice could be heard above the ruckus, “Take their sight! Strike into the heart of the field and drain their numbers!”

At the opposite end of the field, situated between the tribes of people from Meala and the Kyrie army who both pushed Merra’s forces ever inward, came the last group to cement the fate of the battle. May stood at the precipice with her hands on her hips and Fujin and Sunny at her sides.

Not too long ago, the sight before her would have instilled in her a fear that rooted her to the spot. It was still overwhelming and, indeed, scary, but she could think about more than just her safety and survival. This was not simply a battle wherein she could lose her life but a battle where her friends were fighting to keep their lives as well. And, without her help, their chances could deminish.

“Well, there should already be plenty of dead bodies for you, Ziyi,” Fujin mentioned as she surveyed the field, or what she could see of it.

“I will get to work and stay by Sunny,” the necromancer said.

“And we will join Meala,” May announced and raised up her hand. It was a foreign feeling to actually command such a large army of people and she faltered before she gave the order. Her eyes flashed over to Sunny. “Do you want to say it?”

“…You can say it,” her sister replied, quiet.

Parvati shook her head with a smile while Gong worried about their safety. Once they did charge, he had every intention of keeping as much of the fighting away from them as possible.

“Okay.” May cleared her throat and tried again. “Enlil! Charge!”

The Heavenly Princes, while each presently distracted, all felt the entrance of their old brother. Jun and Gongji continued to fend off their attacks while Hwang exchanged blows with Raine but, internally they kept a very separate space for their conversation.

‘Gong is here,’ Hwang said.

‘We need to get to him,’ Jun added.

‘Go. I will hold off these four,’ Gongji thought with confidence.

But he was quickly scolded, ‘You cannot.’ Hwang.

‘I can get the Mistresses, at least, to follow me,’ Jun planned, ‘Gongji you stay with the men. We will be back when we are done.’

Right after he thought it, he focused back on the fight in front of him. Kali sent out a stream of miasma that nearly wrapped around his ankle but Gongji pushed it away with a gust of air. Kaz combated each of Gongji’s attempts at using light with a blast of miasma infused wind which absorbed the attacks into equally bright voids. Similarly, Baiya was using the excess of miasma to create bolts of lightning that raged from the sky and struck, not them, but any soldiers foolish enough to step too close.

“Our traitorous brother has arrived…along with one of your sisters,” Jun said, causing a lull in the fight as intended, “My brother and I will pay them a visit.”

When he retreated, Kali and Chandes exchanged a look before glancing to Baiya and Kaz. “This is probably it,” Kali said.

“Go!” Baiya said, almost snagging Gongji with a bolt.

The two disappeared into the earth, rising up on the other side of the field where reanimated corpses lunged and bit at Merra’s soldiers, instilling a good deal of extra fear as well as taking a few out for the count.

With Hwang no longer blocking their path forward, Raine and his King pushed further in. Devi, however, followed the Prince to the south and Raine suspected there was more happening he did not know about. But, when his eyes caught Gongji zipping about in the air, evading bolts of lightning, he knew where it was he needed to be.

“Where are all of these dead people coming from?!” Kubja yelled as he batted away a legion of undead soldiers. Each one he attacked seemed to breed another ten.

Ziyi slunk forward, keeping his focus on taking out the Terran disciple, knowing that it would help swing the battle further into their favor. Plus, it would give the people of Meala a little more breathing room to recover and then, maybe, push forward to force all of Merra’s troops into an unwinnable position at the center of the field.

His focus took him away from Sunny, more than he intended, but he was able to control more bodies at close range. The downside was, of course, he was more easily spotted.

“You!” Kubja realized when he saw the man release a wave of miasma, causing the army of corpses to rush ahead.

He shook them off balance with a miniature earthquake and then sent a ripple in the ground toward the necromancer himself. Killing him would remove a large portion of their army—the most annoying portion if Kubja were being honest.

His spike remained under the ground until it unearthed itself right at its target. Dirt broke apart and the jagged rock lurched up, aiming for the heart.

Ziyi saw only the flash before a body slumped to the ground in front of him. In his confusion, he released control of all of his corpses and knelt down, his jaw hanging open. “What…where did you…?”

“Idiot,” Chandes snapped and spit blood. Her chest was torn apart, a mix of black and red blood spilling out over her faux-Pangu robes. “I didn’t even…come over here…for you…”

“Why did you..?” Ziyi reached out to hold her up, by the shoulders.

“Keep fighting,” she scolded and threw one of his hands off before her body fell forward, dissipating before Ziyi’s eyes. The black that oozed from her bled into the ground, being absorbed by it.

“You son of a bitch!” May’s screaming helped Ziyi to snap out of his shock and, as Chandes said, return to the fight.

A speeding blur of blue and green shot through the air, directly at Kubja, and pelted against his body. He stumbled back but remained upright—more confused than anything. He touched his chest, where he had been hit, and found nothing.

“Wha…?”

May descended the slope from where she had watched the events unfold and she held out her hand, curling her fingers as a shadow cast over her eyes. She might have known that all the Mistresses would be dead by the end of the fight but none had planned to be killed in such a way. She growled, “Sylph, end him.”

Before Kubja could ask—even think—of what that entailed, his body blew forward, in every direction. Ziyi could almost certainly not use him for an undead soldier.

“May, watch out!” Fujin called before blocking an oncoming arrow with her shield. She slid down to her side and fended off a few of Merra’s men with the help of her pink Sylph.

After shaking her head, the princess refocused. “Ziyi, return to my sister, support us from the rear. Vanguard, press on!”

Heidi was no longer anywhere to be found but Ashoka and Bofu were still near one another and Merra felt there was an opportunity there. She joined Bofu’s side and held a hand out to Ashoka.

“I can forgive you for your betrayal if you join with me again.”

Ashoka gripped her staff hard and shook her head. “I cannot. What you are doing is not right!”

Phay saw the encounter but could not stop and help. Her attention was held by the assault happening in the middle of the field—too far away for her to interfere in but certainly a direr situation. All of the remaining Heavenly Princes were throwing everything they had at Gong and Parvati. She squinted and believed she saw other Mistresses but she could not be sure.

“Salamander, come on,” she begged for the spirit to reveal himself and help but there was silence in her mind.

Loa looked to her with a frown. “What do we do?”

“Just aim for the center for now. Maybe we can get a lucky volley…”

“I will get you more cover,” Ishar offered, still having a decent amount of smoke vials between herself and her extra help. With the amount of elemental fighting and energy being thrown around, it was clear she could not rush down on foot in hopes of doing anything aside perish faster. She held up a vial. “While you try summoning, we’ll keep you hidden.”

Phay nodded in silent appreciation. She then rubbed a hand over her sternum and closed her eyes, focusing as much as she could. She pictured Salamander in her mind and called out to him with all of the force she could muster and still…

“Come back with me!” Merra yelled and threw her arms out. She gestured to Bofu, “Do you see what kind of disciples I have left?! Who knows if Kubja even still lives and Gongji will leave me to become a Heavenly Prince as soon as this ordeal is over. And then what? I simply have Bofu? He is worthless, Ashoka, I need YOU!”

Ashoka recoiled, wondering, in what world, such a speech would convince anyone. She glanced to Bofu to see him struggling to stand. He dropped his whip and clutched his side.

“See?” Merra pointed out. “He can barely even function.”

“He got this way from following you and your orders,” Ashoka responded, scowling. “You may as well have done this to him yourself.”

The weight of her statement came in the form of a dagger in Merra’s back. It was not that Bofu had been bracing himself for a fainting spell but he had reached for a weapon instead.

He dragged her down with him as she gasped in surprise and pain. Ashoka watched, unable to move, as the Kyrie disciple removed the blade only to plunge it into the Xiang’s chest.

“You…are a disgrace,” he hissed and, promptly, fell limp over the top of her.

The Xiang’s life drained from her and from the battle. The Heavenly Princes could feel it the second it happened and they carried on their tense conversation between themselves.

‘Merra has been slain.’ Hwang.

‘I felt it too. We need to get rid of Gong. Tiandi will take his power.’ Jun.

‘Why not kill those other Mistresses while you are at it?’ Gongji asked as he moved backward, little by little, in an attempt to join their fight while also not relinquishing his.

‘Every Mistress that dies adds to Shakti’s power. It is a double edged sword,’ Hwang explained.

‘Where is that Shadow Goddess anyway?’ Gongji.

Hwang and Jun threw light arrow after light arrow at Gong but one of the Mistresses was always there to swat it away. Their desperation grew and Hwang recalled a trick that Zhu had taught him lifetimes ago.

He held up his hand into the sky and sent out a blinding light, overtaking the field and giving them a moment to attack without recourse. Both he and Jun threw everything they had at their brother before the light dimmed and they were thwarted again.

It had been a good attempt, Gong thought as his knees hit the ground. They had probably given Pangu and Kira enough time in the spirit realm to get everything together and now they had to move onto the second half of the plan, even if it was personally quite painful.

Tears slipped down his face as his stomach shifted to the side, cut in the middle, but the agony in his heart was far worse.

Parvati clung to the front of him, her torso obliterated by the onslaught. Still, she held him and smiled. “We knew it…had to happen…so why not…go together?” she whispered before going stiff in his arms.

The last thing Gong felt was one of her tears wetting the side of his face.

“You killed my sister,” Kali growled and set her sights on Hwang. “Now it is time for all of us to go.”

He held in his gasp but his face still showed his surprise. “You intent to die?”

“That’s right—we know what our deaths entail.” Miasma raged around the Mistress and she dove toward the Prince before he could avoid her. She latched onto him and the black that seeped out of her sunk into him like fangs. It broke from her skin and into his, tearing both of them to shreds before Jun’s eyes.

He glanced over to Devi and felt his blood run cold.

They were the only ones left.

Devi did not even have to move. The miasma that came from her traveled through the earth and shot up like a pillar to encase Jun. He shrieked and then moaned as the force crushed him into a fine paste and she only had time to let out half of her exhale before she was pierced by an arrow of light.

“There is still one remaining, dear,” Gongji told her with a smirk.

“Do you have a Tian aspect?” Kaz asked though labored breaths. He and Baiya had been attacking and parrying nonstop, with no breaks, since the beginning.

“Maybe I do. Maybe I do not.” The floating disciple, possibly Prince, taunted. “You will never find out—the two of you cannot even land a hit on me.”

A roar from the west shook the ground and fire shot into the sky. Phay’s arm, removed from the sling and bleeding from a self inflicted wound, marked the ground with her blood and called forth the last Great Spirit. She seared the wound shut with a burst of fire in her fist and screamed out in agony—a sound which Salamander mimicked upon his entrance.

Flames spat from his mouth as he lorded over the field, terrifying the remaining soldiers who not only had no more generals to guide them but nowhere to run from the wrath of the spirit. Those who could squeeze out and flee did so while the rest cowered in anticipation for their deaths.

“This fight is over, Gongji,” Baiya said, realizing that there was no one left. He had not exactly been able to pay attention to every ebb and flow of the battle but the panic from the soldiers told him everything he needed to know.

“Even if it is over, even if all of the Princes are dead and your plans are secured—even if Tiandi himself dies after today—I will simply take the throne!” He broke into a wide grin and laughed. “I have the power! I have the will! Your fights mean nothing to me—I have still won!”

“Sure about that?” Kaz quirked an eyebrow and he and Baiya both raised a hand toward him.

The would-be Prince laughed and attempted to dart to the side, as he had been doing since the start of their fight, but he found his legs frozen in place. Quite literally.

Raine stepped out from behind him, keeping his eyes on the prize but also moving out of the way of what he suspected might come next.

“No!” Gongji threw every bolt of light he could at the ice around his legs and feet but he was not quick enough.

The rest of the miasma from the earth and the bodies of the Mistresses along with what was powering Ziyi’s corpses flowed to Baiya and Kaz. They did not hold it in their bodies for long and pushed it out as light and lightning. Only, so close together, the elements blended and a beam, crackling with energy and singing with a high pitched whine, shot out and straight through Gongji, leaving a perfect circle through his chest.

He slumped forward as the ice holding him broke and the last sigh was exhaled, between Baiya and Kaz.

#the xiang chronicles #my novel #my writing

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hxdrostorms · 8 months

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“Rules”: repost with the information of your muse, including headcanons, etc. If you fail to achieve some of the facts, feel free to add some other of your own! When you’re done, tag 15 other people to do the same!

Stolen from the dash! Feel free to do it, and say I tagged you!

B A S I C S

Name: Kanon, the name was given to him by Shion alongside with Saga. Age: 28 Birthdate: 30th of May 1955 Species: Human Gender: Cis male Orientation: Homosexual, and strictly polyamorous Profession: Originally meant to be part of Athena's army of saints, even though there wasn't a golden cloth pointed for him. However, due to his brother's intervention Kanon was thrown into jail, which led him to find his way to Poseidon. For 13 years, Kanon wore the title of being a Marina general, going by the name of 'Sea dragon Kanon'. After the battle against Athena's bronze saints, Kanon seeked forgiveness from the Goddess, so he could serve her as a saint during the war against Hades' spectres. During this brief period until his death, he wore the Gemini cloth and proudly wore the title of 'Gemini Kanon'.

P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S

Hair: Long deep blue hair, the shade of his haircolor is a lot more blue-ish than his brother's. That's the only most noticeable difference between the twins, if someone looked at them while standing next to one another. Otherwise, to anyone who isn't familiar with the other's looks, they might have a hard time telling them apart. Eyes: Blue, it's the same exact color as Saga's. Skin: Slightly tan due to his prolonged exposures to the sunlight. But it is possible to see how fair skinned he is, in parts of his body that barely received any exposure. Height: 1.88 meters Weight: 87 kg

F A M I L Y

Siblings: Gemini Saga, his older twin brother. Parents: N/A. Their Gemini twins are shrouded in mystery in regards to their origins. The only thing that's clear is the fact that both Saga and Kanon have always had a powerful cosmos, so much so they awakened their 7th senses the moment they were born. Thus, they were the very first golden saints to arrive at the Sanctuary, when they were still newborns. Grandparents: N/A Other Relatives: N/A. Growing up, Saga and Kanon didn't have a paternal figure. Shion was barely watching over their growth and trainings. With Kanon constantly being subjugated and compared to his brother, who was well in his way to adorn the Gemini cloth and become the/one of the most powerful golden saints of his era. Any Pets? N/A

S K I L L S

Inhuman strength and agility, he is well adept into the art of hand-to-hand combat. However, he prefers to rely on his powerful skills with his cosmos. While the type of skills are identical to his brother's, it is possible to notice a disaprity of power level between him and Saga. Through his cosmos he can sense and feel others presences, both for enemies and comrades alike. The general marina's scales also function noticeably different, from a golden cloth. He also awakened the 8th sense, much like the other golden and bronze saints, which grants him fully consciousness even in death.

T R A I T S

STRENGTHS. Faithful to any cause he sets in his mind, cunning, cultured and knowledgeable WEAKNESSES. He can't work alongside others in a team effort, easily lets his ego blind him, looks down upon all of his opponents

L I K E S

Colors: Gold and blue Smells: Ocean, grass in the early morning Textures: Silk, water, softness, scales Drinks: Kanon isn't picky at all about what he drinks, this is subject to change depending on where finds himself in. Red wine may be his favorite.

O T H E R D E T A I L S

Smokes?: No Drugs: No Driver License: N/A Ever Been Arrested?: Yes, he was locked away by his own brother's doing and he was meant to die in there, as a punishment for daring to conspire against Athena.

#ooc /#& dash games #« gemini kanon : hc »

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skxrbrand · 1 year

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Land of the Dead, Araby / Prev

Few creatures give the Exile pause.

And pause he does, as soon as he feels those thunderous hooves. As soon as he smells that particular scent of sulfurous gore on the wind and hears that terrible roar split the sky. He looks again and the Verminlords have gone; Skarbrand only catches their tail tips as they disappear from whence they came, leaving him and the Unbound alone together. Then he realizes. It was a plot all along; a scheme.

And the Unbound isn’t as he was when last they spoke.

The scent of Malaneth is thick upon him, as are the Shadow God’s colors. Previously a dark red, the Unbound’s hide is a crimson so deep it was nearly black. Had it not been for his unique configuration of limbs and the traces of Khorne’s rage wafting off of him from his agitated state, Skarbrand might not have recognized him at all. For a moment, An’ggrath raged at all around him, breaking trees and ripping up the earth. Then he seemed to realize his verminous assailants were gone, tossing his furious gaze around and landing right on Skarbrand.

The Reaper tensed, holding both his axes tightly, trying to read anything from the face of the Unbound. But there was nothing there, nothing but the rage of an beast that had been prodded and poked and tormented and harassed to the peak of it’s anger and sought nothing else but to unleash upon someone. And Skarbrand, by the calculations of the Verminlords, had been chosen to be that someone. A wiser creature might have run. With his oaths made to Kharneth, Skarbrand would have been within his rights to deny An’ggrath’s challenge. The War Still raged; this was not the Bloody Pit of the Ragelands, where their dispute would be settled at last.

But arguably, this wasn’t An’ggrath.

Several emotions beset the Reaper as he begins to size the mutated Bloodthirster up. If he killed his brother here and now, what would Khorne have to say about it? Surely, the Blood God could not object to his self-defense....then again, it was Kharneth and he was the most hated of the Brass Lords’ sons. And beyond that... the Unbound dripped with Malal’s fell power, the sour stink of true-killing upon every inch of his hide. To die here would be to die forever. And even the Exile of Khorne was wary about such an event.

An’ggrath’s jaws come loose with a roar, interrupting Skarbrand’s internal dilemma. He gallops forward with his axe and the Reaper brings up his own to block the blow. They connect and the Exile feels the sheer power of his brother creak through each of his daemon-brass bones. The force of the hit cracks the earth in every direction and the stench of the Malal-tainted traitor stings his eyes.

But Skarbrand notices something as soon as his brother is upon him. Five presences within, each one a shard of An’ggrath’s very essence, screaming in rage. Three of them with the desire to slay and maim, and two in horror and fear. Fear at what was taking place; this brazen disobedience of the god they were pulled away from. An’ggrath was not one being, but several; had not one name, but five of them, and only three had been subjugated for Malal.

Black flame licked at the jowls of his brother’s snout. Skarbrand tried to flee, but the Unbound’s strength pinned him in place like a heavy stone. He could not physically toss the bigger Bloodthirster away, deigning to buckle under An’ggrath’s weight and slip away instead. But the fire came forth, partially catching the Reaper of Legend, and what it caught it savaged. Flesh melted and cracked, bone charred, armor darkened and liquified upon his chest. Even the Reaper himself roared in agony. He swung his arm as he dodged, Slaughter arcing with a vengeance into the head of his opponent.

An’ggrath only flinched a moment, retaliating with his claws and then, his front hooves. He reared up, like a hellish destrier, and brought the flaming limbs down upon the Exile. Still on fire, Skarbrand barely caught the attack, lifting his much heavier brother overhead and bodily throwing him. An’ggrath flapped his tiny wings, but to no avail. He crashed, some distance away, and began to convulse instead of rising immediately. Skarbrand’s own fury bled through his skin and he overtook the black flame savaging him by setting himself on fire. He turned to the grounded Bloodthirster, watching him shudder and flail, feeling the five presences within him battle and struggle.

A wiser Deathbringer might have run, but Skarbrand was injured and incensed and all it took was a roar of challenge for the Unbound to solve his internal dilemma. The traitorous half of An’ggrath’s soul bullied that still true to Khorne to the side, rising to his hooves and charging. Their horns collided and the heavier An’ggrath barely faltered, shoving into Skarbrand with almost no effort, like he wasn’t even there. He grabbed the Reaper, lifting him up and slamming him into the dirt. The fire came again; Skarbrand managed to get his wing over himself, letting the limb take the brunt of the flare and sacrificing it in the process. Not in vain; he swept out Slaughter from his wing-shield and with a roar of shock and surprise, the Unbound had lost one of his front legs.

The Reaper followed up the attack, emerging from under his self-shield with his own flame. At range it wouldn’t have done much, but so close-- the concussive force of the blast shoved An’ggrath away and, newly unbalanced, the other Bloodthirster nearly fell in the doing. The Unbound’s new injuries inspired a measure of caution, even as Skarbrand struggled to get to his own hooves. Down a leg, the taur-Bloodthirster had to be mindful of how it shifted it’s weight. It’s movement was limited. Very limited. But An’ggrath was still dangerous and, of the pair of them, definitely the least injured.

It mattered not to Skarbrand. Ignoring his wounds and heaving with the weight of the damage to his vessel, he raised his axe. A challenge. An’ggrath hobbled forward, his wings flared, all too happy to accept it. The brothers flew at each other, biting and ripping and cutting and tearing. Immolating, bashing, locking horns again and again and again. The ground was scored by hooves, scorched by flame and burning blood. More of it was Skarbrand’s. Slowly, but surely, the battle was turning one way. This the Reaper knew, but cared not. He would not run, not retreat. At the very least, he would take An’ggrath with him. This he swore as he sized his brother up another time, watching the taur-Bloodthirster circle him. A pause before the next bout--

Then the Unbound squawked and wrenched himself around. There, in his flank, a bladed star had been thrown and lodged in his flesh. This was followed by more; one in his neck, another in his chest, their warpstone stained tips eating into skin like acid. The shadows shift and rat-shapes melted from them. Verminlords. They had hidden themselves, but hadn’t truly left it seemed and upon seeing them, An’ggrath abandoned his Vendetta against Skarbrand.

Skarbrand did not pursue them, watching the Verminlords lead the Unbound away and building on the injuries the Reaper had already managed against An’ggrath. He watched them disappear in the darkening distance and noticed for the first time the sun sinking down past the horizon. How long had they been fighting? Rage still burned in his veins, hatred boiling his blood. Skarbrand turned his gaze not towards where An’ggrath had run to, but towards home.

He knew not the schemes of the Verminlords. Why the ratkin hadn’t simply let him die, but he would count their intervention as a boon. A turn a fate in his favor, by the Changer of Ways. But now came the second test.

Getting home without dying.

#plot point #longpost #An'ggrath (The Unbound);

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blackwaxidol · 1 month

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The Leprosarium is a silent construct, no tempests will follow you and you will fight nothing but yourself to get there. You will wither to death trying to find a worthy opponent, and ransacking the world around you will not get you what you want; it will only weaken you further.

Like his Mortified Knights, you will find the greatest power in intentional subjugation. Does a Lightbearer know the meaning of asceticism? To run your claws along extinction's fine edge, to hold your head beneath its surface until your lungs burn and your Worm thrashes violently in heretic terror? Do other Hive? La'zaar thinks not.

Everything that dies in the Leprosarium becomes another one of many to hold up its walls, this is a humiliation beyond mere extinction—and it oft drives lone Hive to incur the labyrinth and wander for hundreds of years seeking their mate's body; to rip it free, to deface it or to break it into unrecognisable powder.

Similarly, everything that falls to Ru'thûn's blades becomes one with the corpse-sand in her Throne World.

They are twin cities, beyond their physical similarities—though both are built upon a vast, lethal emptiness.

The Dramaturgy's black diamond amphitheatra rise up from a desert of bonechar, the Leprosarium's bleached-white asyla stand upon red soil.

It is said that the asyla were once grey stone, as La'zaar once had grey chitin. A million years undisturbed beneath the red eye-stars and the colour has been stripped from everything. Drained away.

The sky is sunless now; La'zaar had reached out and cut them all apart, letting them bleed slowly into the ground over the course of an eon.

Or, he composed a Deathsong to extinguish them, and used their dust to turn the soil red.

Which is a truth? Ah, it really depends on which Grave you derive from...

#More on the Leprosarium...#OC: La'zaar #Something I hate about tumblr's formatting is how paragraphs are so spaced apart.#It's very amateurish... Hence some of my paragraphs are shorter than they should be because I cannot make line-breaks.

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max1461 · 3 years

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Ok, fine. You got me. I’m weighing in on Aztec human sacrifice discourse.

Here on tumblr, when I’ve seen these arguments play out, there are generally two sides: the “human sacrifice is a sacred cultural practice in Mesoamerican belief systems and therefore you must respect it or you are racist” people, and the “human sacrifice is obviously wrong, and if saying that means I’m disrespecting Nahua culture, then so be it!” people. The thing is, both of these groups seem to be pretty significantly misinformed about the actual history they’re arguing over!

I took a history class in university (two years ago now, I think?) that covered mesoamerica pretty extensively, and from what I recall, the academic consensus is that human sacrifice (at least for the Mexica) was something imposed from the top down by the state. IIRC there are good reasons to think this was a practice that, at least in its mature form, was not widely popular, and was in fact a method of exerting social control over the Empire’s subjects. I’ll possibly try to email my professor sometime and find her sources [if I do so I’ll update this post with any corrections], but as far as I’m aware this is a very established view in the field.

The Aztec empire (more properly the Triple Alliance, consisting of the city states of Tenochtitlan, Texcoco, and Tlacopan, and their various conquered territories) was, after all, an empire, and not a very popular one. There’s a recurrent myth that Cortés conquered the Valley of Mexico with only 3000 Spaniards, against an Aztec army of 200-300 thousand. Which is technically true, in the most misleading sense possible, because the Spanish also had help from a multitude of native allies (both subjects of the Triple Alliance who were tired of being ruled, as well as rival city-states) whose collected troops numbered somewhere in the hundreds of thousands (precise records are obviously scant). In other words, the Spanish were only able to win because lots and lots of indigenous people were not fans of living under Mexica rule, and decided to fight for the Spanish instead. (I mean, yeah, the cavalry charge is good, but it’s not “kill a thousand infantrymen per horse” good.)

What’s the point of my saying this? The point is that you (I hope!) think the Aztec empire was wrong to do human sacrifice, and guess what? Plenty of people in the Aztec empire would have agreed with you! Enough that, alongside all their other grievances, they were motivated to rebel and overthrow the entire system when the Spanish presented a convenient opportunity to do so. Of course, the Spanish would then become far, far more brutal rulers than the Triple Alliance has ever been, but that wasn’t apparent at the get-go.

In general, I think the tone of this whole debate betrays a kind exoticizing and essentializing tendency from all sides. It ignores the fact that Mesoamerican society was an actual society, and the Triple Alliance an actual polity, both of them subject to all the disharmony and ideological conflict and power struggle present in any society, and any polity, at any point in history. I cannot in good faith as an anarchist come to the defense of a state that murdered its own people (which, by my count, is every state so far [hence why I’m an anarchist], but I digress...). Likewise, I cannot in good conscience, as an opponent of colonialism and the ideological stranglehold it still has over society, accept an attitude of dismissal and derision towards the culture of a conquered and brutally subjugated people. Luckily, I don’t have to do either! Because saying “human sacrifice by the Mexica was an atrocity” and “I support the liberation of the indigenous people of Mesoamerica from all their oppressors, past and present” are not only compatible statement, they are mutually necessary.

#my definitive take on aztec human sacrifice discourse #everybody can stop now this is the answer #society #for posterity

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arrowflier · 3 years

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🛸

Sorry I let this sit so long! 🛸 - for an AU headcanon: this got long and weird lol, but the headcanon is that in any world and any configuration, Ian and Mickey will clash but then be completely obsessed with each other.

---

"What the fuck is that smell?" Mikhailo asked, wrinkling his nose.

His sister Mandi looked back at him from her position on the disembarking ramp, and scowled.

"What do you think it is, you moron?" she snarked. "It's the smell of the creatures we're gonna go subjugate, so get a fuckin' move on."

She hoisted her preferred weapon, a too-long electrified spear, in two hands, and made a few testing jabs as Mikhailo rolled his eyes and descended to join her.

“Gonna put an eye out with that thing,” he muttered, shoving it away with his lower left arm when Mandi let it get a little too close.

She grinned, sharp black teeth stark against her pale purple face.

“That’s the idea,” she quipped. “But hopefully it will be more than one.”

“Whatever,” Mikhailo answered with a snort, reaching for his own holstered weapon. He had no need to draw it—he doubted there would be enough resistance to bother with high-powered gadgets considering his brothers had been here for days already. But he liked the feel of it, cool metal against warm green skin.

“You’ll be lucky to get one,” he said as he passed Mandi on the ramp, leaving her jogging behind him to catch up. “You know Ignatious never leaves us much fun.”

He didn’t have to look to know that Mandi was pouting behind him.

“Just cause they’re older,” she grumbled, “they get to do all the conquering. How is that fair?”

Mikhailo sighed.

“We’re about to go tell a whole species that we’re in charge now,” he said flatly. “And maybe kill a few more if they resist. And you think it’s unfair that you couldn’t make it a little more bloody?”

“Yes,” Mandi replied without hesitation.

Mikhailo grinned.

“Yeah, me too.”

—

He hadn’t expected there to be so many of them. They spilled out into the streets like rats, those nasty creatures that seemed to somehow exist on every occupied planet in the nearest three systems. They were loud, and chaotic, and smelly.

As he waited on the floating platform that would be the stage for his father’s first address, Mikhailo thought he probably hated them.

Not that he was unused to that concept. They were part of the Milkovich clan for a reason, him and Mandi—they hated most living things, like all the rest of their kin.

But they were just so easy to conquer, why should he have any sympathy? If they couldn’t stand against one family of warriors, what chance of survival did they have on their own anyway?

Then a murmur started up in the crowd, and quickly enough became a chant, became a roar.

“Our Chicago,” the people started to shout. “Chase them out!”

“Chase them out!” “Chase them out!”

Mikhailo looked to Mandi, across the platform. Her teeth were bared, hands tight on her spear, but they had not been given the command to intervene. Terrence wasn’t even there yet—they couldn’t begin without an order.

“Get your green ass out of our city!” one brave soul cried.

Mikhailo whirled around, looking for the source of the words. His eyes had just settled on the likeliest suspect—a pale human with a shock of bright red hair, standing a full hand above all his neighbors and only feet away—when that same human raised an impressively long arm and hurled something toward the platform.

It landed with a crash at Mikhailo’s feet, and promptly burst into flame.

Well, shit.

The flames spread quickly, too quickly, on a surface that wasn’t supposed to burn.

“Mikhailo!” he heard Mandi shout from his side. But his eyes were fixed on the culprit of the fire, staring into eyes that were as green as his own skin. Such a human thing, those eyes. Wide and defiant, but scared. So scared.

The other creatures pushed and shoved to get away, jostling Mikhailo’s human as they ran. It jolted the man into action, but it was too late—with one lunge through a gap in the flames, Mikhailo had grabbed his around the shoulders with his lower arms and dragged him, kicking and biting, onto the platform with him.

“Get the fuck off me!” the human yelled, trying to use his own pathetic limbs to break Mikhailo’s hold.

“Now why,” Mikhailo grunted, continuing to tug him back, impressed despite himself by the energy of the struggled. “Why,” he repeated, “would I do that?”

“Mikhailo!” came Mandi’s sharp voice. “We have to go, we have to—”

It happened to quickly. One moment Mikhailo was grappling with the disobedient human, and the next he was on the ground with two hands over his bruised genitals and two reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there, a weapon that the human had somehow taken and now held to Mandi’s head. Mandi’s own spear was clenched in the human’s other hand, trapping her against his weak body with it’s electrified shaft.

Mandi’s eyes were wide and dilated, all her arms up and out in surrender.

“Easy,” Mikhailo warned both of them. He wasn’t sure if the human or his sister was more likely to do something stupid, something irreparable.

“Just put down the gun,” he said, rolling slowly to his feet. “Put it down, and—”

“Let me go,” the human interrupted. “Let me go, and I won’t have to hurt her.”

Mandi shook herself once, twice, but the human’s grip only tightened, the barrel of Mickey’s gun pressing tighter to the purple skin of her head.

Mandi growled in his grasp.

“You sniveling coward,” she hissed. “You would kill me without facing me?”

“I don’t want to do that,” the human said. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

But he didn’t let her go.

“I’m not stupid, though,” he added, “and I don’t want you to hurt me, either.”

“You have to pick one,” Mikhailo growled, unwilling to advance while Mandi was still in the human’s crosshairs. “We won’t all get out of this alive.”

“Why not?” the human challenged, his stubborn chin sticking out. “Either we all get out, or none of us do.”

He gestured with that chin to the fire still raging around them, behind which the crowd of humans had largely dispersed.

But there was something there the human could not see. Their ship, approaching behind him.

“Mutually assured destruction, hm?” Mandi was saying. “I supposed there are worse deaths, you human scum.”

She sounded almost fond, suddenly, like the human’s meager attempt at violence made him worth something.

Mikhailo would let them all die before he let on that he agreed.

“Guess we all die then,” he agreed, spreading his hands. “A warrior’s death, at least.”

He expected the human to hesitate. Expected him to fold.

He didn’t.

But it didn’t matter, because then the ship was on them, firing onto the platform and sending it careening away from the city square. The movement knocked the human off balance, and Mandi finally freed herself as soon as the gun dropped from her temple.

“Let’s go!” Mikhailo shouted to her, taking a running leap onto the ramp halfway descended from the ship. Mandi followed him, grasping his hands in hers so he could pull her up as the ship immediately sped away.

The siblings clung to each other as they stared down at the destruction below. The platform was empty, now, no sign of their adversary.

“It’s too bad we’ll have to kill him next time,” Mandi sighed, backing away up the ramp. “He was almost a worthy opponent, for a moment there.”

Mikhailo didn’t deign to respond.

“But I guess we would have clashed anyway,” Mandi added, ands he raised an eyebrow at Mikhail when he looked back at her. “Red and purple,” she clarified, gesturing down at herself. “We were doomed from the start.”

Mikhailo hung back, staring out over the city one last time, hoping for a last glimpse of red.

It didn’t appear.

That was okay, though, he though as he finally followed Mandi back up into the ship. They would be back soon, with reinforcements.

And then, he would find out if that red went as well with his own green skin as he thought that it might.

He’d still kill the bastard, of course, he reasoned with himself. But there was no harm in knowing, first.

#headcanons #i kept forgetting to finish this one oops #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #mandy milkovich #alien invasion #tw: violence #tw: death

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