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zapreportsblog · 8 months

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↳ strong woman ↲

✭ pairing : arthur shelby x reader

✭ fandom : peaks blinders

✭ summary : arthur shelby finds himself a good woman, she’s got her own job and her family adores him, and she can hold her own. What more can a man ask for ?!

✭ authors note : oh wow this is my first peaky blinders fic. I’ll make a masterlist for this too at some point if it becomes a hit or if requests for them begin flowing in but for now sit back and enjoy the show :)

✭ peaky blinders masterlist

The air inside The Rusty Nail was thick with the pungent aroma of stale beer and the raucous symphony of clinking glasses and hearty laughter. Dimly lit by the feeble glow of flickering bulbs, the bar seemed like a haven for those seeking refuge from the hardships of life. Amidst the haze of cigarette smoke, Arthur Shelby sat perched atop a barstool, nursing his umpteenth drink of the night.

The creak of the wooden floorboards signaled the entrance of a group of rowdy patrons, their faces flushed from a combination of liquor and bravado. As Arthur took a casual sip from his glass, his eyes locked onto a man with a sneer that suggested trouble. The tension in the air grew palpable as harsh words were exchanged, and before anyone could react, the first punch was thrown.

The bar fight erupted like a storm, tables overturned and chairs clattering to the floor. Fists flew and curses echoed in the confined space, drowning out the hum of conversations. Arthur, never one to back down, found himself amidst the chaos. The clang of punches landing and the grunts of pain melded together in a discordant rhythm.

Arthur's instincts kicked in, his senses honed by years of living on the edge. He bobbed and weaved, delivering calculated blows that found their mark. A swing and a swift jab sent his adversary stumbling backward, crashing into a table and knocking over a tower of glasses. The crowd roared with approval as Arthur stood victorious, his chest heaving and his knuckles smeared with blood.

As the dust settled and the brawl subsided, Arthur's adrenaline-fueled courage began to wane, replaced by the effects of the alcohol he had consumed earlier. His steps grew unsteady, and he stumbled towards the exit. The world outside was a blur of shapes and colors, and he leaned against the doorframe for support, struggling to maintain his balance.

Suddenly, a warm voice cut through the haze, like a lighthouse guiding him through the fog. "Are you alright, son?" a kindly older gentleman inquired, concern etched into his features. Arthur's words slurred as he attempted to respond, a mixture of incoherent mumbles and drunken laughter.

The older man's eyes twinkled with understanding, and he gently placed a steadying hand on Arthur's shoulder. "You've had a bit too much, I reckon. How about I take you back to my home? You can rest up until morning."

Arthur nodded, his gratitude evident despite his intoxicated state. With the stranger's support, he navigated the uneven pavement and stumbled into the night, leaving behind the tumultuous scene of the bar. As they walked, the city lights flickered like stars in the sky, and Arthur felt an odd sense of camaraderie with the man who had extended his helping hand.

Guided by the older man's steady arm, Arthur stumbled along the sidewalk, his world swirling in a haze of alcohol and exhaustion. The crisp night air cut through his stupor, offering a faint semblance of clarity. Finally, they arrived at a modest home, its windows glowing with warm light against the darkness.

As they stepped through the door, a woman's voice called out from the living room. "Darling, dinner's gone cold. You know how forgetful I am with the oven timer." The older man led Arthur forward, and the woman's gaze shifted from the untouched dinner to Arthur's disheveled state. "Oh my," she exclaimed, her hand instinctively covering her mouth in surprise.

Her voice carried through the house, and before long, the soft patter of footsteps echoed down the stairs. A young woman, her hair tousled and eyes bleary from sleep, appeared in the doorway. "What's going on, Mom?" she asked, her voice a mixture of curiosity and concern.

The older man offered a reassuring smile to his wife before turning his attention to their unexpected guest. "This young man needs a bit of help. Looks like he had a bit too much to drink."

The young woman, (Y/N), stepped forward with a mix of sympathy and determination in her eyes. She wore a simple nightgown, her presence both soothing and vibrant against the backdrop of the late hour. "Let's get him settled," she said, her voice calm and soothing. Together, the three of them carefully maneuvered Arthur towards a spare room at the end of the hallway.

With gentle hands and steady guidance, they eased Arthur onto the bed. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a lamp casting a warm ambiance. Arthur's eyes struggled to focus, but the kindness in (Y/N)'s eyes was unmistakable.

"He'll be fine in here," the older man said, his voice laden with concern. "Rest up, young man. We'll make sure you're alright come morning."

As Arthur settled into the bed, his thoughts began to blur into incoherence. The world around him faded into the periphery as he succumbed to the pull of sleep. Through the fog of his drowsiness, he faintly heard the rustling of blankets and the hushed murmurs of (Y/N) and her parents as they ensured his comfort.

And so, in a stranger's home, Arthur Shelby found a refuge from the tumult of the night.

The morning sun painted the room in a warm glow as Arthur Shelby stirred awake. He blinked against the light, slowly piecing together his surroundings. Memories of the previous night trickled back, and he realized he was in a stranger's home. Pushing himself up from the bed, he rubbed his temples, the remnants of a headache still lingering.

As he made his way downstairs, the aroma of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filled the air. The scene that greeted him was a picture of domestic tranquility. The older man stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with a practiced hand, while his wife set the table with a collection of mismatched plates and silverware.

"Morning," Arthur croaked, his voice rough from the previous night's revelry. The older man turned, a welcoming smile on his lips.

"Morning, son," he replied. "Slept alright?"

"Much better than I deserved," Arthur admitted, gratitude evident in his eyes.

The older man chuckled. "No need to worry about that. My name's Robert, by the way. And this is my wife, Eleanor." The woman offered a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Arthur," he replied, a flicker of uncertainty passing through his mind. Would they recognize the name? He was, after all, a Shelby, a name that carried weight in certain circles.

Eleanor chimed in, her voice friendly. "Nice to meet you, Arthur. Our daughter, (Y/N), helped us get you settled last night." At the mention of her name, (Y/N) entered the room, her presence as radiant as the morning sun.

"Morning again," she said with a soft smile. "Did you sleep alright?"

"Better than expected," Arthur replied, his gaze briefly meeting (Y/N)'s before he looked away, hiding a hint of surprise that his name didn't elicit any recognition.

As they gathered around the table, the conversation flowed effortlessly, like old friends catching up. They spoke of simple things—weather, life in the city, and shared anecdotes. Arthur found himself easing into the rhythm of their chatter, his guard lowering with each passing moment.

The breakfast table became a temporary haven, a place where a man known for his hard exterior found himself welcomed without judgment or suspicion. And as the meal drew to a close, Robert extended an invitation that warmed Arthur's heart.

"You're welcome to stay as long as you need, Arthur," Robert said, his words genuine. "We're glad to have you."

Arthur's gratitude was palpable as he nodded. "Thank you, Robert. I appreciate it."

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Arthur realized that sometimes, even in the most unexpected places, people could surprise you with their kindness. He had stumbled into this family's life under unlikely circumstances, and in doing so, had found a haven of acceptance that he hadn't anticipated.

Weeks turned into months, and Arthur Shelby found himself drawn to the haven of warmth and comfort that was Robert's home. Whenever he wasn't immersed in the world of the Peaky Blinders, he sought solace in the company of the kind-hearted family. The days he spent there became a reprieve from the relentless demands of his other life.

His family began to notice his frequent absences, and questions began to arise. "Where are you off to, Arthur?" Tommy asked one evening as they sat in their dimly lit headquarters.

Arthur shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "Just passing time, Tommy. Nothin' special."

Tommy cast a scrutinizing look his way, his eyes narrowing. "Passing time, huh? You've been disappearing quite a bit lately."

Arthur's jaw tightened, but he kept his tone even. "Like I said, Tommy, just keepin' busy."

Tommy's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the task at hand, leaving Arthur with a sense of relief mingled with apprehension.

One day, as the sun cast dappled shadows through the trees, Arthur found himself wandering towards the small business that Robert's family owned. The scent of freshly baked goods filled the air, and the sight of (Y/N) and her mother working side by side in the kitchen brought a soft smile to his lips.

Seeing him, (Y/N) grinned and wiped her hands on her apron. "Arthur, you're just in time. We could use an extra pair of hands today."

Without hesitation, he rolled up his sleeves and joined them in their culinary pursuits. The rhythmic kneading of dough, the careful measuring of ingredients, and the banter that flowed between them made the hours fly by. Arthur discovered a surprising talent for baking, finding satisfaction in creating something with his hands that brought joy to others.

As they worked, (Y/N) and her mother shared stories of their business and their hopes for the future. They spoke of dreams and aspirations, of simple pleasures and the bonds that held their family together. Arthur found himself opening up as well, sharing fragments of his own life that he had rarely revealed to anyone.

Days turned into weeks, and the bakery became a haven where Arthur's burdens seemed to lessen. The simple act of kneading dough and watching pastries rise in the oven brought a sense of accomplishment that was different from the violence and power struggles of his other life.

As Arthur walked back to his own world, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. He had found solace and acceptance with Robert's family, a stark contrast to the life he led with the Shelby gang. The bakery had become more than just a place to escape—it was a reminder that there was goodness in the world, and that he could be a part of it, even if only for a few stolen moments.

As the days turned into weeks, Arthur found himself captivated by (Y/N)'s genuine sweetness and the way her eyes lit up with kindness. He admired her for her resilience, her ability to see the good in people even in a world that often seemed so harsh. He couldn't help but notice the gentle curve of her smile and the way her laughter seemed to chase away the shadows.

Summoning his courage, Arthur decided to take a step forward. He approached Robert and Eleanor one evening, his heart pounding as he broached the subject. "I was wondering if it would be alright if I took (Y/N) out for a date," he began, his voice steady but tinged with nervousness. "I know there's an age difference, but I respect her and I promise to treat her right."

Robert exchanged a look with his wife, a twinkle in his eyes. Eleanor smiled warmly. "We couldn't be happier, Arthur. You've shown us your good heart, and we trust you."

Arthur's relief was palpable, and he offered a genuine smile in return. "Thank you."

On the night of their date, Arthur arrived at (Y/N)'s doorstep, his heart racing as he knocked on the door. She opened it, a hint of surprise dancing in her eyes. "Arthur? Is everything alright?"

He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a bit awkward. "I was wondering if you'd like to go out tonight. Maybe catch a movie and have dinner."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened for a moment before a warm smile spread across her lips. "I'd love to."

As they made their way to the town over, laughter and easy conversation flowed between them. The movie was entertaining, but what stuck with Arthur were stolen glances and the sense of comfort he felt in her presence.

After the movie, as they walked down the street, the atmosphere shifted. A group of rowdy men began catcalling (Y/N), their comments lewd and disrespectful. Before Arthur could react, (Y/N) had turned to face them, her stance unwavering.

"Is this how you think it's okay to treat women?" (Y/N)'s voice was firm, her eyes flashing with a fire that took Arthur by surprise. And then, in a sudden flurry of movement, her fists were flying, her punches landing with precision.

Arthur stood frozen, watching in awe as (Y/N) held her own, her punches landing with impressive force. By the time the confrontation ended, the men were nursing their injuries and retreating, chastened by the encounter.

Arthur's jaw hung open, his admiration for (Y/N) growing even stronger. She turned to him, her cheeks flushed and her expression fierce. "Sorry you had to see that, Arthur."

"Sorry?" Arthur managed, a mix of astonishment and awe in his voice. "That was... impressive."

(Y/N)'s fierce expression softened into a sheepish grin. "Well, thanks. I just can't stand that kind of behavior."

Arthur chuckled, shaking his head in amazement. "I'll keep that in mind. Remind me never to cross you."

As they continued their evening, Arthur realized that his admiration for (Y/N) had only deepened. She was more than just sweet and kind; she was strong and unafraid, a force to be reckoned with. And as he walked her back to her doorstep, he couldn't help but think that he had found something truly special in her, something that had the potential to change his life in ways he hadn't expected.

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itsclydebitches · 4 months

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It's weird to think Vol 10 of RWBY just straight up might never happen. much less further volumes. No matter how bad it got I would still have loved some form of ending but Barabas comments don't paint a hopeful picture. Alas fics of RWBY will go until the end of time.

It's very weird. Most shows I come across have either already concluded, or give their audience an estimate of when things will wrap up ('We're planning another two seasons and each takes us about two years to film, so...'). I have shows that unexpectedly get more content after providing an ambiguous, but still satisfying ending (Alice in Borderland), shows where each season is self-contained so it can end whenever without issue (Bake Off), shows that were cut short and had to scramble to wrap up (Sense8), and of course there are always shows that are straight up cancelled and can't do a thing to mitigate that... but RWBY feels almost, almost unique in this combination. It's a webseries rather than a traditional TV show. It's gone on for a decade with absolutely no indication of where it's heading. Each season feels threatened to the point where the fandom can no longer differentiate between a real cancellation concern and Internet exaggeration. The story has hit what's arguably its most important narrative peak - the team has traversed an alternate world, Ruby has "overcome" drinking the tea, Summer finally appears on screen - only for news of the story's future to remain frustratingly vague. Not only have we never had a sense of when RWBY's story will end, now we don't even have confirmation of whether it will end. That's such a frustrating way to approach storytelling given that your audience relies on some level of commitment to remain engaged.

I too want RWBY to finish up because I am not immune to the Sunk Cost Fallacy: I put this much time into the series and it needs to satisfy me with a conclusion, even if the conclusion itself will inevitably be unsatisfying. Outside of any normal disappointment with a story you love getting the ax, I generally don't mind embracing unfinished works. I read abandoned fics, watch cancelled shows, browse barely started comics, because getting a taste of the world is always worth it if it's compelling to me. I never regret meeting characters whose stories go untold because as a writer myself I can at least imagine that on my own terms. But RWBY? Losing it now would be a real kick in the teeth. I personally don't think the story is salvageable at this point, but at the very least fans deserve a conclusion: one that will likely please a lot of devoted viewers and allow critical fans to put a satisfying tick mark on the box in our heads labeled "RWBY."

Given its popularity I wouldn't be surprised if RWBY wound up cancelled and then concluded in a comics run, or a one-off movie. Beyond the fact that this would no doubt mess up the writing even more (now you have to iron out this mess of a plot on a time limit, in a new medium, with new authors!) it would, unfortunately, be kind of hilarious too:

[generic tour guide voice] "Hello. Welcome to RWBY. Our fandom is known for having copious side stories connected to the canon in confusing ways. Some are incidental to the main series. Some outright contradict it. Some are crucial to your understanding of the primary plot and must be engaged with in a timely manner. These texts range from comic runs to random bits of information in abandoned mobile games. Please note that this corpus did not grow naturally across decades of storytelling, as is the case with fandoms like Star Trek and Star Wars, but was rather cobbled together by RT in an attempt to 'fix' numerous, ongoing issues with the webseries. Our latest addition? The ending. Yes, if you would like to finish RWBY please refer to this index of sources that together provide a semi-cohesive conclusion to a ten year show. Now, on your left you'll see the ongoing brawl as fans attempt to determine whether this index is canonical or not. Please watch your step..."

#rwde #rwby #mymetas

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mrsoharaa · 5 months

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Ꮺ ❥ 𝑬𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒅

characters: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

content warnings: highly suggestive (nothing too descriptively spicy!), ex lovers, "one night stand" sort of thing??, sensual kisses, hinting/lingering touching.

It was meant to only be a one time thing.

One.

Now there you were, standing in the same familiar bathroom that swelled with nothing but his strong, addicting scent. The entire vast steam infused, space clouded with nothing but the pure smell of his distinguished, black sandalwood and tobacco whiskey essence. The stern distinct of his natural oders intoxicating your hazed senses, triggering the recently sticky, events that had just unraveled from the night prior.

Thus-- your current predicament.

You curl the fluff of the borrowed black towel around your bust, lean against the edge of the widen marbled counter top of his sink and cleared some of the fogged mirror that stood before you. Starring indubitably long and hard.

What are you doing?

You KNOW you shouldn't be here!

You shouldn't be with him!

You're doing this to yourself!

You bite your bottom lip and slump your head forward weightlessly, exhaling a heavy, prolong sigh. Your grip amongst the edge of the sink tightening, battling pointlessly with the rambling, pestering thoughts invading your blundered mind.

You close your eyes softly, inhaling in softly, exhaling just as gentle.

Lost in your brawling mind, you could feel the familiar, comforting warmth of large, calloused palms delicately roam around the vulture of your waist. A staggering weight of radiating heat and lingering enticement grazing up against the stride of your back, the husk of his torrid breath fanning ever so temptingly against the nape of your neck, his hot, plush lips lightly brushing and caressing at the tender, silken exposed flesh.

You could feel his looming figure closing in on you, trapping you inattentively against the cooling, glossed marble of his sink. His ample hands wooing you in to his tantalizing touches.

"Qué pasa, mi amor?" his sleek, smooth voice echoed ever so enchantingly into the depths of your ears, simply rolling your head over your shoulders, you gradually peeled open your dazed out irises and gazed at him through the mirror before you.

"You know we shouldn't be doing this, Miguel" you finally collected, listening to the bellowed tune of his gentle hum reverberate against the lush of your pulsing skin, his hands soothing up and down the stride of your sides with such care and tender.

"Mm...do you not want to do this? do you not want to be with me? because if that's the case...I won't stop you from leaving, my love" he gently whisks into the plain of your shoulder, painting the flush of his searing lips up along your neck. Gradually guiding your head to tilt to the opposite direction of his motions.

Steers out a more soften breath from you, breathes in your overwhelmingly enraptured aroma. Homing his full lips at the juncture of your clenching jawline, his languid fingers roaming to the midst of your covered belly.

He knows exactly what he was doing.

"I--..." you felt your mind going completely numb to his soothing, deep voice, seducing you delicately with his hovering grazes and simple words "...You know I don't want to" you breathe out, feeling his left hand slither down the valley of your left leg, meddling up further and further until his fingertips slips at the edge of "your" towel.

His fingers halts, your eyes glimpsing up and over your shoulder to look up at him. Such compassion and care wallowing in those soften, hazel eyes of his.

He carefully twirls you around to face him, guides your head up with both of his warm hands placed onto each side of your cheek, subtly brushing his thumbs across the supple flesh that beautifully resonated a comforting warmth "I don't ever want to make you feel pressured or you feel like you need to choose" he states, leaning forward to plant a chaste, gentle kiss onto your forehead.

"You know you'll always have my heart, mi primero y unico amor" he softly mumbles against your forehead, feels your smaller hands drape around his stockier, bulked body. Your face nestling against his chest, the evident smell of his strong scent evading your nostrils. Driving your mind and body into a whirlwind of climbing arousal.

"...God, I hate you so much" you grumble with binding fluster, tearing away from his chest, cupping his strong cheeks and pulling him downward to meet your hungry lips with such haste. Lapping and melding your greedy flesh with his, pressing your needy body against his, wrangling your fingers into the silk of his disheveled tresses.

You could feel him smugly smile against your insisting, eager lips. His hands finding their way back onto the mount of your curvaceous hips, hastily hiking you up upon the bathroom sinks counter, curling your fumbling legs around his slim waist, instantly matching your sloppy, lustful kissing pattern.

"Mientras me toques, respirándome en ángel... no me importa" he husks against your lips, drawing himself back into the messy, salacious entanglement of deprived elevation.

#boyYYY #ex bf!miguel does things-- I'm telling you! 😩😮‍💨#miguel o'hara x reader #atsv

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hobbitwrangler · 1 month

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10 facts to surprise my followers

Thank you for tagging me @emyn-arnens! Let's go!

I've done a butterfly survey. Great experience. You get to chase across fields after butterflies with a massive net.

I actually really like Turkish delight!

I've raised a guide dog puppy.

I used to be afraid of dogs when I was younger. Thanks to spending a lot of time with my uncle's dogs, I now adore them.

I fully believe my interest in history began with reading through my father's Asterix comics.

I have scars on my hand from all three pets my family has had in my lifetime.

I have never seen a Star Wars movie the whole way through and likely never will.

When I was ten I stole a chick from a nearby farm. I was able to keep it for a solid week before my mum caught me and made me give it back.

I used to have quite bad anger issues when I was a teenager, resulting in me having the dubious honour of being the first and only girl in our year to get in trouble for instigating a physical brawl.

I actually like rain. Idk man sometimes you've just gotta stand in the rain and chill for a while.

no pressure tagging @scyllas-revenge @imakemywings @elvain @sotwk if you'd like to do this!

#tag games

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ljlokijinx · 11 months

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The Avengers are on a hike (a mission) and Nat is guiding.

Peter: Where's Nat?

Tony: Up, in the front. We've lagged behind.

Peter: Lagged? Who forgot to turn which app off?

Tony: Ah, Steve must still be running.

Peter: We've got to uninstall him.

Tony: Steve stop playing Brawl Stars.

Steve: *offended patriotic noises*

#avengers #avengers funny #avengers incorrect quotes #avengers incorrect scenarios #domestic avengers #irondad #Peter Parker #Tony Stark

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trashbins-stuff · 10 months

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Whats all the object shows you've watched

Glad you've ask sweetheart, buckle up

1. Inanimate insanity

2. Bfdi (all 5 ss)

3. Hfjone

4. Aninated inanimate battle

5. The nightly manor

6. Paper puppets (takes 2)

7. Happy stars guide to object show

8. Cfmot

9. Old and olo

10. Village of objects

11. Burner

12. Love of the s*n

13. Tiny taco tales

14. Object invasion

15. Battle for grandma and 5 secondly object show 1 2 and 3

16. Calculated battleground and obsolete battle show

17. Unusual battle and cast 139

18. The daily object show

19. Army objects

20. Sfaim

21. Open source objects

22. Excellent entities (all 3 ss)

23. Brawl of the objects

24. Burger brawl

25. Moss

26. Generic object battle

27. Ion

28. Into the canvas

29. The perfect object show

30. Object mayhem

31. Shows over

32. Another attempt at azoic assault

33. Object overload

34. Inaninate fight out

35. Object havoc

36. Object multiverse

37. Victory will be mine

38. Object madness

39. Objectified ('s a comic but whatever)

40. The acronym of tomorrow

41. Help hotline

42. Object filler (again)

43. The struggle for the world

44. Chaotic ambition/ keep fighting til the end

45. Object towel (again)

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gorbalsvampire · 20 days

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On Mass Combat

There are mass combat mechanics in Dark Ages Vampire's Storytellers Guide, but...

Look at it this way. There are a few key principles to fitting mass combat into an RPG, and if you follow them all you don't really need a mass combat system as such.

0) Your players don't want to sit there and wait

This is rule 0 for a reason. I once sat through an interminable Star Wars D20 game in which the GM's particular flavour of brain worms meant he had to roll attacks and damage and reactions for every combatant in a scene before he described what happened. It's not that he had no imagination, it's just it wasn't fair if he didn't roll, and it wasn't fun if it wasn't fair. Or maybe he just hadn't thought about adapting the standard "declare, roll, describe" process of RPGs for an encounter with dozens of active participants. Either way, it was a terrible way to spend an afternoon - and I like rolling dice for attack after attack after attack, when it's a wargame. When I turned up to roleplay, it's just false advertising.

1) Only the PCs' dice really matter

You're running this scene for your players. They're rolling for their characters. Dice that have nothing to do with their characters don't need to be rolled. Really, this is an extension of Rule 0, but turned sideways so it becomes advice rather than an excuse for an anecdote. I'm a big fan of "only players roll" in general for RPGs and for the way the ST systems work, it really helps to set the players a roll against a target number and have margin of success or failure decide consequences.

2) Just because it's combat doesn't mean you have to roll combat pools

Mass combat is a chance for Leadership to shine. In V5 I would consider something like Resolve or Composure + Leadership to be the best possible roll for a player trying to command a mass battle. In older editions that don't have the good stat grid, sub in a Mental Attribute of your choice - I'd say Perception for the first round, Wits if something surprising happens, Intelligence to close the engagement favourably. If your player isn't in a leadership position I think it's better to roll a few Stamina + Melee/Brawl/Firearms/Atheletics rolls and inflict superficial/bashing damage equal to the margin of failure than to sit there modelling it all out exactly with the four rolls per attack that conventional combat needs. You could even break out a Composure + Survival for a character who just does not want to be there. Again, I have V5 brainrot and I know it, but "three and done" is such a good way to stop system creep and keep the sessions moving.

3) What are you using mass combat for in story terms?

Maybe this one should have come first, I 'unno, but this is the thing about mass combat - a lot of the time the systems seem written to simulate it happening without asking what it's doing in the story. Is it a command challenge, for PCs who are trying to command a small army for whatever reason? Is it a social challenge, for PCs who have to lead that army and keep up its morale? Is it an endurance challenge, for PCs who are built to throw hands to a degree no mortal could match? Or is it something that's happening around the PCs, a kind of environmental hazard that they need to negotiate on their way to achieve something else? (This is my favourite way to use mass combat - my Dark Ages game had, er, several city sacking sessions during which PCs were trying to traverse the fires and the furore to rescue so and so or stop such and such escaping or simply to escape.)

I hope all this has shown that you can include a mass battle in your games without needing a ton of new rules (that you won't use very often so they're a faff to learn, internalise and run at table anyway). Quite often, less is more, and you can boil down a situation into something you can represent with unusual uses of the conventional rules.

#meta #vtda #vampire the dark ages #vampire the masquerade #vtm #reddit repost #gm advice

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zacksoto · 1 year

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Back in 2011, I was asked "So, what old DC comic would YOU like to reboot, and what's the angle, and can you draw a cover for this theoretical comic relaunch?" I was not asked this by a professional editor at DC, but by my friend Jon who was doing a themed blog thingie. Look, it was before the world we live in now—we had time to imagine a better world and fool around! Anyway, I am reposting the "pitch" I wrote, as well as the illo I did back in 2011 (below), just to have it here. Above is a more recent posca drawing/painting of Dart (as you will see if you read the wall of text below, she's my favorite 😂)

ATARI FORCE #1 (of 12)

2063: A.T.A.R.I. (Advanced Technology And Research Institute) combs an infinite number of realities in order to find a suitable new world for the population of a dying Earth. In their travels through the Multiverse, one of the expeditionary forces does battle with and ultimately kills the ultimate evil - a lovecraftian devourer of dimensions they dub the DARK DESTROYER. In the course of this battle, they find a perfect, empty world in a universe teeming with advanced civilizations. After some false starts both the recolonization of New Earth and the socialization of the New Earthlings with the rest of their new neighbors is a success.

2088: THE ATARI FOUNDATION, now the de facto governing party of New Earth, has ushered in a new era of utopian prosperity. After the Old Earth was brought to the brink of destruction by gross negligence and mismanagement, the people of New Earth are only too happy to put themselves in the guiding hands of ATARI. All live in relative prosperity and happiness..

Except for MARTIN CHAMPION, brilliant Multiversal scientist and the leader of the original expedition that battled the Destroyer. Martin is haunted by the death of his wife in childbirth, and is convinced that the Dark Destroyer somehow caused it. Instead of going about his life and picking up the pieces, Martin sits in his lab sending probes out in to the Multiverse, in hopes of finding proof of the existence of the Dark Destroyer. Martin has, over the years, become a laughingstock of ATARI, as well as driven his now adult son out of his life, due to misplaced anger about the death of his wife. All he has left is his obsession..

Until one of his probes goes missing after sending back readings of energy very similar to the kind the Destroyer radiates. Worried that he's given the Dark Destroyer a direct route back to New Earth in the lost probe, Martin hijacks his now antique Multiversal scout ship

SCANNER ONE and heads out to stop the Destroyer once and for all. To help him on this mission, he enlists:

ERIN BIA O'ROURKE-SINGH, aka DART - A telepathic mercenary, as well as his goddaughter. She's one of the deadliest, sexiest beings in the universe, and she has a precognitive "second sight" that comes in handy.

MORPHEA - An alien empath, forced on Champion by the ATARI FOUNDATION to serve as his psychiatrist. Ostensibly she's there to help him with his "delusions", but her connection to Martin's deepest convictions gives her reason to think he's actually right about the danger facing the Multiverse.

CHRIS CHAMPION, aka TEMPEST - Martin's estranged son. A professional fighting champion who's anger management issues and freakish teleportation abilities have made him a star in the Mega-Brawl circuit.

Wanted by the government of New Earth, and pursued by the ATARI Security Squad, Champion has to outwit them all and defeat the ultimate expression of evil all over again. Luckily this time he has the new, improved, ATARI FORCE!

Over the course of their adventure, their rag tag team grows in size as they pick up new members:

BABE - The hulking, freakishly strong infant from a world of rock-like creatures.

TUKLA OLY, aka PAKRAT - An impish, self-absorbed master thief who goes into berserker rages when cornered.

TAZ - A master soldier, last of her race, who carries deep anger and sadness within her.

MOSES FISK, aka BLACKJAK - Dart's lover, a roguish mercenary once thought dead, secretly brainwashed to do the Dark Destroyer's bidding. --- I loved AF as a kid, so when Jon asked me what book I'd reboot if I got the chance, it was one of a handful of titles I considered. I especially loved Jose Luis Garcia-Lopez' designs and storytelling, and Gerry Conway did a really good job weaving all these plot threads together in an exciting way.

My reboot of the book would reprise it as a 12 issue mini series (or maxi series, as it would have been called back then), and really play up some of the hard sci fi elements at the fringes of the concept, as well as inject a sort of European sense of storytelling to the character bits, while still remaining true to the general arc of the original.

The only character I would really change that much is Chris, who in the original is pretty lame/bland/whiney and was quickly overshadowed by Dart. I thought giving him the MMA-style fighting league to be a part of would be something interesting for him to use to try and cope with being crapped on by his dad all his life, as well as ground him more than in the original series, where he's really sort of a cypher-brat.

Another wrinkle I would explore is the sexual tension between him and his "sister", Dart. It's hinted at in the original series, but I think that I'd have it bloom fully in my version on these long weeks and months stuck on Scanner One - Chris always having had a thing for Dart since they were kids, and Dart being rather depressed and lovesick because of Blackjak's apparent death early in the series. Things would, of course get rather sticky when Blackjak reappears.

Needless to say, the ATARI FORCE gang eventually wins out against the new iteration of the Dark Destroyer, but not without some serious losses, and they limp off still wanted by the ATARI FOUNDATION and use the failing Multiversal drive on Scanner One to take them into unknown space..

Atari Force was created by Gerry Conway and Roy Thomas. (Read more)

#atari force #zack soto #comics #illustration #drawing #poscapaintmarkers #dc comics #fanart #gerry conway #jose luis garcia lopez

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whump-town · 1 year

Text

No Rescue Needed

Slight Rescue Needed

trying to flex my writing muscles to ease into the 50ish pages I've got to write for all my final papers and assignments, here's one of awful productions

word count: 3,000

Warnings: idk hotch gets napped, and beaten... but you know how he is, he's a tough old guy

Derek had only made the mistake once of assuming Hotch needed self-defense lessons. His boxing lesson had ended in the two of them bloody and sweaty, all-out brawling on the ring’s floor waiting for the other to call it. Gideon had come down to find them and he’d wordless called an end to their fighting. His disappointment was clear, even if he didn’t speak a word to either of them. Derek never doubted Hotch again. Under all those suits, Hotch was punky, he fought, and he didn’t play.

Hotch wasn’t someone who needed to be watched, who needed protecting.

Derek had always respected that but now he knew it.

The unsub had killed six men over the last month, quickly with no cooling off. He kept each victim for three days. The first three had died being tortured but the last three had died exposed to the elements. No one was sure that the unsub was devolving – and Rossi refused to make a decision yet, leaving them to argue about it endlessly. It was the same methods so it was the same unsub, all six men subdued by sedatives and their legs broken before they were left in the carpets. The last three had died from hypothermia, blood loss had made it quick but painful.

Tuesday morning the team met in the hotel’s breakfast bar, and take a moment to enjoy hot waffles. A small break before returning to the men’s partners and three children trying to understand where their father’s went. Dave brings Hotch oatmeal and a coffee to the station, it sits cold in the conference room for three days.

Hotch was the most considerate to room with because he never sleeps, but when he does, it’s not restful. He tosses and turns, has nightmare after nightmare until one finally wakes him, and then he’s back up again. He’s got sleeping pills, all sorts, that pitch him back into solid black, nothing but hot, dead sleep. But he can’t sleep like that while on a case, that kind of sleep is for a Friday or Saturday night when there’s nothing to do and no one needs him.

As they stand in his room, all they question why they hadn’t just seen this coming. His room is a mess. His go-bag overturned, his clothes scattered out on the ground. The coffee pot is shattered, coffee splattered out on the tile. There’s blood on the table, a considerable dent where something had made hard contact. Hotch hadn’t gone quietly, but he’s gone nonetheless.

And they hadn’t noticed.

Thursday come at unusual speed, each livable second passing at a fourth of it’s speed, and then each second gone having passed within the blink of an eye. Thursday night means tonights the night.

The back road is deserted except for a single fat possum waiting in the underbrush growing up the sides of the dirt road. Silver eyes in the darkness that Derek sees in a flash as he keeps the car moving steadily along, as fast as Emily will let him travel as she hunts through the dark. It’s all murky black, the moon devoured as if by a caterpillar, the leaves blackening out chunks of its lights. It’s as desolate and unsettling as the rest of the town.

The never-ending gravel roads, leading down winding paths through the woods were so dense they reached up and blocked the full moon’s light. With nothing but his high beams to guide him, Derek just tries to keep on his route. Emily’s phone had lost service nearly immediately and while they had a map, stopping to turn on the overhead light and attempting to figure out where they were just wasn’t worth the time. All the roads are connected, Reid had assured them as long as they keep on the main gravel road, they’ll find their way back.

“Stop!”

Derek slams on the brakes and the car jerks on the gravel, tires crunching for purchase on the ground. He looks up and Derek just stares, the man in the headlights looks like something from a nightmare. Long limbs covered in blood, hair down in front of his eyes. Pale as a death. The sort of creature that crawls into focus on a nightmarish video on the internet, seemingly alive but impossible to conceive.

“Hotch!” Emily runs out of the car, casting her shadow over him, blocking him from the severe light of the high beams and Derek sees. He’s been stripped down to his pants, barefoot. Derek’s too shocked to recognize the man in front of him but Emily doesn’t hesitate a second.

She gets to him right as his body gives out and there’s nothing Emily can do as he falls back to the ground with a thud. His skin is cold, bare to the elements, and he’s covered in blood. Emily moves her hand over his skin, looking for the wound where the blood must be coming from. But she can’t find one. “Hotch!” she shakes his shoulders. “Hotch!” Emily presses down on his sternum, feeling his bones beneath her knuckles.

“Hotch, come on.” She puts her hand against his side, her palm over the curve of his ribs. His chest raises slightly with his slow breaths, and Emily can feel his heart beating. “He’s breathing, I don’t understand–”

Derek moves slowly to them, not sure yet that he can believe what his eyes see. Emily begins to speak again, still frantically trying to rouse Hotch. Derek slaps him. It all happens too quickly, and Emily can’t stop it. Derek rubs his stinging palm, “come on, man, stop fucking around.” He’s going to go in for another when Hotch’s breathing picks up, his eyes flutter open. He groans a moment later and his eyes pinch shut tight as he grimaces. The breeze pushes through them again, the wind trying to blow them over, but Emily and Derek stay close, listening to Hotch’s pained breaths time the silence. When Hotch opens his eyes he squints at them, taking a long slow moment to place each of them and where they are.

“Hotch?”

He lays back, again, licking his lips across his painfully dry lips, “afternoon.”

Derek chuckles, deep and happy, “you tough son of a bitch.” He reaches down and hugs Hotch, pulling him up into a proper hug. “I knew you had it in you. I knew it.” And Hotch, boneless – having no control of the majority of his body – sags into the warmth. He stifles a whimper of pain into Derek’s shoulder, pressing his cold skin into the middle warmth of Derek’s shirt and his jacket. The pain in his chest abates quickly back to what’s become its normal pain and Hotch relaxes a little more, pulling his hands up closer.

He’s not shivering but Derek can feel how cold he is. Hotch’s hands are like ice, Derek can feel them through his shirt. “Here,” Derek says, he begins to shift around, trying to bend around and pull his jacket off of himself. The movements cause Hotch’s broken ribs to move and his mouth opens as the air is pushed from his lungs, chest a tight ball of fire.

“Morgan!” Emily stops him, one hand on Derek’s arm and the other on Hotch’s hip. “Stop moving.’

Hotch feels like a statue against Derek, completely tense. “Sorry,” Derek says, slowly moving back to how he was. He can hear Hotch’s breathing change again, easing as Derek does. “You alright? I’m sorry, shit.” He pulls the corners of his jacket around Hotch.

And though Hotch’s first reaction is to let himself move into the warmth, he still attempts a mumbled, “ ‘m fine.” Emily’s coat comes overtop and the cold wind is blocked out entirely, Hotch’s vision blurs, and the ground starts to twist up. He slips away from Derek and Emily’s conversation, vaguely aware they’re discussing him as if he’s not there. And then a cold hand rouses him, and not a moment passed for him, lifting his head up from the comfort of Derek’s chest. He doesn’t remember getting here.

“You have to stay awake,” she commands but Hotch’s unfocused eyes see right through her. Emily turns her attention again to Derek and Hotch hears only her voice, her words jumbled into another language.

Derek shifts his weight a little, and pats Hotch’s shoulder, “you up for talking?”

Hotch’s eyes are open, something had roused him but he’d already forgotten what, and now he was focused on keeping his eyes open. Believing it his own thought. “Hn,” Hotch grunts, certain his mouth has formed words.

Derek is uncertain of the exact translation he should take from that response, so he pauses to think. He rubs Hotch’s arm absently as he ponders, hoping he’s doing enough to raise Hotch’s body temperature to keep him from going into shock. But there’s not much of a way to know. “Hey now,” Derek looks down and Hotch’s eyes have fallen considerably, attempt to close. “No sleeping on the job, Hotch. You know that.”

“Hn,” Hotch grunts and it takes him a moment, but his scowl falls into place and Derek laughs.

Derek holds him closer, “there you are.” He’s never been so happy to be reprimanded by a look in his life. “There you are, man.” His celebration annoys Hotch, all his hugging encouraging another grunt, but Derek doesn’t care. Six out of seven were not good odds, but Hotch had done it. Escape one more time by the skin of his teeth.

___________________

The scar tissue in Hotch’s right shoulder prohibits the muscles from extending completely, leaving his weight to rest on his left arm. There’s no way for him to move from the prone extension, his fingers high above his head and pale from lack of blood flow, and his feet do not reach the ground, covered in blood that’s run off him. The pain grounds him through the sedatives, on and off Hotch has the throbbing to grasp at time. To think.

Hotch knew what happened, and how he got here, but he couldn’t let go of the feeling that it had only been a few hours. Only enough time to pass between being taken from his hotel room to getting here. But he looks down at himself and knows that can’t be true. There’s crusted blood dried over the hair on his stomach, stuck painfully to his pants. Cuts and bruises up his chest. So it can’t be day one.

“You’re awake.” Hotch recognizes the man standing in front of him but not with a name. “How are you hanging in there?”

Hotch has no memory of how the blood got on him, or what injuries he sustained to get here, but he knows he’s heard that joke several times already. Aided by the agony in his shoulder, Hotch is filled with hot-headed rage. The kind that had sat rather dormant and well-controlled in the pit of his stomach. That little voice that he’d learned to ignore.

He tries to jerk away from the unsub but the man just holds his hip, forcing him still as he plunges another dose of clear hell into Hotch’s thigh. It doesn’t take long for Hotch’s vision to start to fade, his awareness slipping as he’s lowered onto the ground. His feet finally come down to the ground but accept no weight, he can’t feel his legs as they fold limply beneath him.

He lies on the floor as the unsub prepares around him. He tosses a crowbar at Hotch, hitting him in the chest, and Hotch can do nothing but lay there and gasp, his fingers just inches from the weapon. It’s the third day. The third night, if Hotch had to guess.

The other six men had their femurs broken, all three bones in the legs shattered and broken. Hotch has never broken a femur. He’s never broken his leg.

The crowbar comes down over his hip first and it feels like broken shards of glass are being pushed through his skin. Anger comes back quickly, three more hits do nothing but fill Hotch’s head with cloudy red. A fog he can’t see through.

Hotch sways on his feet a moment later, the crowbar clattering to the ground from his stiff-fingered grip. There’s more blood on him now, he’s standing in it. He looks emptily down at the unsub, at the broken bones he can see protruding incorrectly.

He walks away, without thought. Something in his hip is broken, the glass shards are stuck in the socket, but it keeps moving. He keeps walking, and none of it hurts under the haze, bones do not move as they should, but they keep moving.

And then there are great lights in his eyes and the cold ground beneath him.

___________________

Emily moves his hips carefully, lifting his legs and moving with great care to watch for the way Hotch’s jaw clenches tight with pain. He’s half-delirious laying in Derek’s arms, eyes open but fogged, blurrily staring off to the side. Derek shifts slowly, trying to get Hotch up in his arms without jostling him around too much. Emily gives Derek something to push himself up with, finally putting to test all the deadlifts he’d been doing.

Keeping Hotch at his chest level requires a little too much bending and Hotch stirs uneasily as his ribs shift in his chest. Grating against one another but Derek keeps going, it will be worse to stop. It scares Emily to watch Hotch’s eyes roll back in his head, to hear his breathy pained noises turn suddenly silent. His entire body limp and face pale and slack as Derek stands with him in his arms. “Is he breathing?” Derek asks, refusing to move. He can’t feel it, Derek doesn’t see it either.

Emily slides one hand underneath his shirt and tries to find the pulse on his neck. She can’t feel his heart beating anymore but he is breathing, and when she focuses for a moment, she can feel his pulse in his neck. “Yes,” she says and Derek sighs, “but not for long. So get in the car.”

Derek puts Hotch in the passenger seat, properly up in front of the vents in the warm chairs. Emily buckles him in and Derek gets in the seat behind Hotch, supporting his head with his hand. Derek’s other arm goes around Hotch’s chest, hoping he can stabilize Hotch as best as he can while Emily digs gravel up, tearing down the road.

Emily hits a turn hard and fast and Derek grits his teeth. This is exactly why Hotch doesn’t let anyone else drive. “Is he alright?” Emily asks, glancing over and cautiously shaking Hotch’s knee.

“Eyes on the road!”

Emily jumps, her hands flying back to the wheel. Then she glares back at Derek, “don’t fucking yell at me!”

The jerking car and yelling rouse Hotch back to consciousness, pulling him from the depths of darkness back to the living. And all too soon. His seat belt tightens as Emily comes to a screeching stop in the hospital parking lot. By the time his vision clears, Derek’s arms are pushing up under Hotch’s knees, and he’s being lifted, pulled from the car. His vision spots for a moment, only vaguely aware of something touching his head.

“Derek!” The hard thunk of Hotch’s head hitting the door startles them both. “Yeah don’t worry about the head, it’s not like he needs that.”

Hotch can feel Derek respond, can hear his voice deep in his chest.

He’s laid onto something cold, blue gloves descending onto him as they grasp at his limbs. Hotch panics, lights beam down on him, there are scissors shredding his pants off of him. He can feel himself moving, dream-like limbs refusing to be called in to correct motion. Easily held down and easily manipulated so that the staff buzzing around him can continue their work.

His voice is a trick to his own ears but he can hear a cry, the noises leaving his own mouth as if through the telephone. Belonging to someone else.

Cold fingers move his head and Hotch grunts as an IV finally comes to sit in his hand, his eyes on the nurse tapping the needle down. Fingers prod at the back of his head and he feels intense pressure and then nothing, his head fuzzy and weak. His thoughts suddenly slower, everything coming down two paces. His eyes suddenly burned, too hard to keep open.

___________________

Taking a moment to catch his breath, the unsub has a glass of water, lazily checking his phone as he stands there. It gives Hotch time to think, to come back to himself and away from the ledge the pain had walked him to. The crowbar was a favorite, it hadn’t been in the previous murders. The coroner thought he was using a baseball bat, the injuries were more congruent with that weapon.

Hotch didn’t know how much more he had in him. He couldn’t tell which day it was, how much time he had left. He’d begun to see things in the corner of the room, hearing Dave call his name and seeing Derek standing in the corner, finger over his lips, with his gun posed ready.

But no one came.

No one was going to come.

The crowbar scrapes against the floor as the unsub adjusts his grip before raising it once again.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #Aaron Hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss

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quirkwizard · 10 months

Note

Good day/Evening, Quirkwizard! I was wondering if perhaps you were keen to expand upon your ideas for Star and Stripes Bionic Quirk, seeing as how you already did your ideas for a Team-Based Copy Quirk.

I covered a lot of the concepts in the original post, at least ones that would affect the story and Cathleen herself. The only thing to expand would be ideas like Cathleen being a weapon like Tomura, but there isn't much else to say. I could expand on other parts though, like the usage of it and how the fight would do.

As for the Quirk, the basic idea was that Stars and Stripes would have a power that lets her take in machinery into her body as a way to augment herself like what I talked about with "Bionic". Only this would be a more powerful version to hold more technology in her body and to put up a fight against Tomura. And since technology can be so advanced in this setting when compared to our own, I think this be amazing opportunity to go nuts with the cool stuff she could use. If you're going to have a massive brawl like this, at least make it interesting. I'm talking light beams in her arms, a jetpack growing out of her back, pulling out things different kinds of munitions to blast him, collapsible tech that can turn into massive melee weapons, plasma weapons like flame throwers and lighting guns, more bizzare choices like sonic weapons or magnetic weapons, and a tiny laser meant to guide the Tiamat missiles straight to Tomura's position. The two would be going back and fourth with their powers and gadgets. What's better is that showing off these powers gives some context to Tomura losing out on his Quirks after this fight is over, giving it some more meaning to that affect after the battle when Tomura is targeted by the safeguard.

#My Hero Academia #Quirks #Cathleen Bate #Stars and Stripes #New Order #Tomura Shigaraki #MHA Meta #MHA Theory

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halikyon · 4 months

Text

I wrote more things:

O'tchakha and D'zentsa stood opposed, five yalms apart in the courtyard of the Temple of the Fist. They wore new, diatinctive Monk garb in white and black repectively, products of a recent visit to Tataru by Ryune. Gathered to one side were twenty-three initiates, kneeling, sitting, or standing as they so wished, whisper quiet. On the other side was Ryune, dressed in her full Monk garb, also provided by Tataru, with her hands behind her back. The sun was still low in the clear sky and the air had yet to heat fully from the morning cool. A light breeze carried the sounds of birds in the nearby trees.

Ryune regarded her students, a pleant look on her face, "Today begins the next step in your training." Her voice, clear and true, carried well through the courtyard, bouncing back to her off the nearby peaks. "You have all learned to control you aether to build the flow of Chakra within you, and then to release it in a powerful and devastating strike."

Her gaze passed over them, meeting the eyes of many, though she noticed some seemed to be gazing past her or elsewhere entirely. She gathered aether to herself as an example, opening her chakra and sending a powerful blast of air between the two standing opposed before her in one gluid move. They didn't so much as blink, their hair moving slightly from the breeze, trusting their mentor and friend wouldn't hurt them, at least not deliberately.

The students, though, were all brought to rapt attention. Ryune knew it took time for them to build up and release their energy, but she could do it, when focused, in seconds. Seeing done what they might one day be able to do themselves always seemed the best way to re-engage them. Ryune put her hand behind her again.

"Today we will be showing you the next step in this technique: the passive unlocking of Chakra in combat. This ability is key to your effectiveness in battle, as it gives you the means to deliver a powerful strike or perhaps finishing blow to you opponent without needing to concentrate beforehand to prepare it, allowing you to make effective use of your Chakra multiple times in the same engagement." She nodded to her two star pupils. "This technique will be demonstrated by D'zentsa and O'tchakha today for you all." Ryune raised her left arm up, her hand a knife in the air.

"May Rhalgr guide your hand." Ryune had added that phrase recently, feeling the need to add a bit of pomp and circumstance to structured sparring, especially since she wanted her students to take it more seriously. It also served as the cue for them to bow and take their combat stances. She let the silence linger a few more seconds before swiftly chopping with her raised hand, proclaiming, "Begin!"

They both darted foward, meeting in the middle, with a clap of displaced air and a momentum thud, trading blow after blow. As newly minted Fists, Ryune knew they could throttle their power as they liked, and she could see that even when contact was made the blow was always held back. Much like herself, their light frames and powerful legs led to a kick-heavy style that emphasized mobility, using the upper body mostly for defense and to create openings. Ryune took a moment to enjoy the exposition of skill, proud of how far her first students had come. To the untrained eye, though, it looked like an all-out brawl.

The students watched, completely absorbed in the display before them. "Sense their aether." Ryune advised them, "Feel how it flows around and within them." The thuds of contact between them reverberated off the cliffsides much as she and Lyse had once done while sparring back during the liberation of Ala Mhigo, but faster than they ever had done and faster now still.

Eyune could tell they were both quite close to being able to release their Chakra. Little did the students know she had sweetened the pot for whomever could do it first, offering the winner four of her home-cooked meals of their choosing and a trip of their choosing at Ryune's expense. They certainly seemed to be fighting with all they had from what Ryune could see, though from ghe second she made the offer she already knew the outcome.

The outcome was soon upon them all, as D'zentsa broke away and dashed in at the same time O'tchakha began to rear back. With a tremendous clash even more powerful than the first they came back together, blowing one another back a yalm. They skidded backward, keeping their feet under them, and then stood, breathing heavily, with smiles on their faces.

It was exactly as Ryune had predicted. Having told them just before they had come out here, they hadn't exchanged a word about it, but Ryune had seen a single glance exchanged between them and knew in that moment they had made this plan. Truly she was very impressed at their coordination, and felt they did both deserve something nice after so much training, the tests, and the responsibility of having first been senior students and now teachers themselves. Frankly she had initially been expecting the winner to insist on the other joining them, and Ryune had intended to let it happen. This, however, was even more a testament to their skill than she had had in mind.

After a moment they stood up straight and gave each other a formal bow, signifying the end of the exchange. Ryune brought her hands together with a clap in front of her, the sound adding a touch of finality. The entire exchange had lasted less than thirty seconds.

"Well done, both of you. An excellent performance." She nodded to the pair before regarding the gathered students, "As you could see, they were able to quicken their aether and unlock their Chakha in the midst of combat. I certainly don't expect you to do the same immediately. Instead I have an additional task for your training that I'll be adding to as needed. First, rather than meditating in a stagnant position, you shall instead be moving. Walking, jogging, jumping, or whatever else seems most comfortable to you will do just fine."

Her students seemed amicable enough to the change, nodding and murmering positively to themselves. D'zentsa and O'tchakha made their way to the aide, standing beside each other. Ryune continued, "Once you've got that down we'll move on to doing it during drills, then eventually sparring."

Ryune remembered her own experience trying to figure that technique out. "This will be a lot easier than trying to figure it out on the fly through a crystal, I assure you." They each had one of their own, the stones quite prevalent on the old ruins here, in The Fringes, and in The Peaks, but having an idea of how to perform a technique before it got thrust into your brain by a fancy rock was a lot less jarring. Plus, it meant that they could master and use these techniques much more effectively without having to put their lives on the line.

Stepping foward, Ryune directed the students' training for the day, "Use the courtyard and keep moving. Feel how the aether moves within you while you do and use it unlock your Chakras. I want you all to work together on this and figure out the path foward." She looked to the sky for a moment, "We shall reconvene just before noon to discuss your developments. You may proceed."

With a wave of her hand they proceeded to disperse around the courtyard, many in pairs and larger groups, and began to experiment. Ryune was pleased with the excitement the showed, and felt it would be a very productive day for them. As they finished dispersing, Ryune made her way to her former pupils.

They both had a bit of a sheepish grin on their faces, Ryune noticed, as if they had done something sneaky and had gotten away with it. She also happened to notice that they were holding hands. It wasn't her business to pry into personal relationships, and she didn't know if it was something they did from how close they had grown or if it had become more remontic in nature, but they were happy, and that was enough for her.

"So, I had planned to entertain the both of you, but that was even more proof that I was right to elevate the both of you." They looked a little confused, so Ryune continued, "controlling your Chakra to the point of simultaneous release was very impressive, and even more so since it built up at different rates between you two."

Understanding dawned upon them. D'zentsa spoke first, "Ah. Yes, you see that wasn't exactly part of the plan. It just kinda happened that way."

"I could feel her movements and aether much as I could my own, and it seemed so easy to coordinate in that state." O'tchakha added.

D'zentsa nodded in agreement, "It felt so natural. Even sparring so many times before I don't think something like that has happened in such a way between us." She looked at O'tchakha, "At least..ah..." It sounded as if she caught herself before saying something she didn't think she should share.

"Yes, I know what you mean." O'tchakha's face had turned a slight red. "It's certainly not something I was expecting either."

It was so obvious to Ryune, but she kept it to herself. Anything they wanted to tell her could be done when they were ready. She stepped foward and reached out, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Well, I think its wonderful and that the two of you make a perfect team." She gave them both a reassuring smile, "You let me know when you want your meals and I'll get to cooking, alright?"

"Tonight?" O'tchakha asked, hopefull for something new and different. D'zentsa nodded in agreement.

"I don't see why not. The two of you can come over as soon as you're ready once today's lessons are over." Ryune was already mentally checking what she had in her stores at home, "It shouldn't be a problem."

Ryune reiterated her thanks and bid them farewell to observe the progress of her students now meandering around the courtyard with furrowed brows. It would take time, she knew, but this group was well on their way to becoming Fists all their own. She envisioned them, paragons of peace, problem solvers and protectors of the people. It was an idealized notion, she knew, but she couldn't help but hope for that brighter tomorrow.

----------

It was funny, Ryune thought as she stood crafting cuisine in her small kitchen, just how much this life had ended up suiting her. She had never though of herself as a teacher or mediator, and yet had taken to both rolls without a second thought. Unlike cooking, which she had taken up as a way to not hate meals when out adventuring in the wilds, she hadn't even had to try.

She looked over her shoulder to the pair she had invited, chatting with M'naago at their small table surrounded by mismatched chairs. She had also never thought of herself as a mentor, and yet...

The popping of oil snapped her back to the task at hand. The Gyr Abanian Chub she had caught was signaling its readiness to be flipped. She did so, directing her attention to the greens she had picked next as they simmered in a pot. The arid landscape may seem barren, but she knew it was as plentiful a place as any other.

It also helped that so many folks had come back. She had personally taken care of dozens of roadblocks, mostly metaphorical but a few literal, that had inhibited the rebuilding effort, and the result and been a boon in trade. She grabbed a shaker of Thavnarian spice she didn't know the name of and carefully applied a light coat on the done side of the Chub. Sometimes she couldn't remember the names of things, but she never forgot the smell or taste.

She overheard her name and a few more words, seemingly recounting the time when Ryune had met M'naago when first helping the resistance and how they had actually first met when they were little at the Peering Stones when taking shelter from the Garleans. Those had both been tough times, and she had gone from the second youngest in a family of six to a lone orphan in those intervening years, losing all but her Father before fleeing to what would become Little Ala Mhigo.

Now wasn't the time for solemn remembrance, though, and Ryune put the thought out of her mind. The meal was almost done and she had guests after all. Ryine buckled down and soon was putting on the finishing touches, sliding her freshly cooked and well spiced fish onto a bed of soft greens. She placed a few slices of lemon along the edges before laddeling a white sauce into a pile on one side. She observed her work for a moment before deciding it was ready to eat, grabbing the serving plate and bringing it to the table, setting it down in the middle.

"I present to you a fresh Gyr Abanian Chub lightly fried with Thavnarian spices on a bed of local greens with an optional addition of creamy tartar sauce." She said in the moat regal voice she could manage, inspired from her time at The Bismark, "I call it: Oceans Apart and Together." It was a silly name she had made up on the spot, but they all acted impressed, making 'ooh's and 'ah's as she talked.

Ryune pulled up her chair and sat with them. "Also lemon." She added, causing a few giggles.

"It smells wonderful!" O'tchakha said, already cutting a piece for herself.

"What kind of spice is it, anyway?" D'zentsa asked, waiting her turn.

"I wish I could tell you something other than 'red' and 'fragrant' but I truly do not remember the name." Ryune answered, a bit embarrassed by her memory troubles. That particular problem had begun after her battle with Zenos, and no one she had spoken to anout it was certain if it would go away or not.

M'naago gave her portion a good sniff. "It reminds me a bit of paprika." She recalled the trip she had taken with Ryune there, "They make in Thavnair, right?"

"Yes, that's probably it." Ryine admitted, taking a bite. She didn't like fish all that much by itself, but had discovered a myriad of ways to use or cover the flavor to make it more tolerable to herself. This dish was no exception, as the combination of spice, the slight bitterness of the greens and lemon, and the sweetness of the sauce seemed to balance perfectly.

The others seemed to agree, as no one had time to talk between bites. Ryune knew it wouldn't have taken much to impress them, but always liked making the best she could for M'naago or any other guest to give them something worth remembering. By herself she would have charred it over a fire, covered it in the paprika, and not really thought about it.

As the meal concluded they began speaking once again as M'naago cleared the table of dirty dishes.

"There's something we feel we need to speak to you about, actually." D'zentsa said, leaning foward onto the table. O'tchakha seemed to become smaller on her seat, her face taking on a red hue.

"Anything and everything, I'm all ears." Ryune assured them, leaning foward herself.

"Tchakha and I have spent a long time together, as you know." D'zentsa began, "From that we got to know each other fairly well."

Ryune nodded, giving her her full attention.

"It's just that...well, we were never allowed to do anything before of our own choice. It was always for some purpose or another." D'zentsa explained, "Now we have freedom to do as we wish, and have chosen to stay with you and the Fists, but..."

"Go on, it's alright." Ryune reassured her, feeling a slight bit of anger spike once again at their old master before letting it melt away.

"We ah, we've had a lot of time to ourselves and now we aren't sure what to do." D'zentsa seemed at a loss for words.

"How so?" Ryune asked, already having some idea after their encounter earlier in the day, but not wanting to jump to any conclusions.

"We've gotten close, really close." O'tchakha spoke up, "To the point we wish not to seperate."

"Yes, but we also are unsure of what exactly that means for us." D'zentsa added.

Ryune pondered their words for a moment while M'naago cleaned up the kitchen behind her. "To me, it sounds like you love one another." Ryune put it plainly, "I won't tell you what kind, as that is for you to work out together, but its love all the same."

"What do you mean 'what kind'?" D'zentsa looked unsure.

"Yes, I am unfamiliar with such matter ls myself. What does that mean?" O'tchakha asked as well.

Ryune took another moment to collect her thoughts before explaining, "There's more than one way to love someone else. In the most basic way of saying it, sometimes it can be platonic, where you are the best of friends. Other times it's a bit deeper, where if feels like you found a missing piece of yourself you would be lost without. It could be also romantic, like M'naago and I, where you feel you make a whole greater than the sum of your parts, where the shared feelings in your heart draw you together time and again no matter the distance. Usually the former forms of love are part of the latter."

The pair seemed to contemplate this for a few minutes before exchanging a glance. O'tchakha spoke first, "We have been spending all our time together, even when sleeping."

"I'm sure you also noticed that we were holding hands earlier. We saw you do so with M'naago and wished to try ourselves." D'zentsa said.

"How does that make you feel?" Ryune felt like a full-on counselor talking like that.

"Happy," O'tchakha said, "Safe, perhaps?"

"Comforted." D'zentsa added. "Many times moreso at night. We sleep much easier next to one another."

"I agree. It's the opposite of when we were alone in those stuffy rooms." O'tchakha seemed a lot less reserved now that the ice had been broken. Ryune was quite pleased that they were both so forthcoming.

"So tell me, what exactly is it you wish to do, then? What love is it you feel has grown between you?" Ryune asked, looking to help them find their way forward.

The pair looked at each other, as if searching for the answer within one another's eyes. Seconds stretched into minutes as M'naago finished cleaning up an returned, standing behind Ryune with a hand on her shoulder. It was a moment that seemed much more intense than Ryune would have thought.

"I...don't know what I'm supposed to do." D'zentsa said, hesitantly. "All I want is to have you next to me. I want you to be close and for you to be happy." She took O'tchakha hands in her own. "I'm worried, though, that I may cross a line, act upon an urge you may not wish to partake in and end up pushing you away." That last part came out in a rush, as if a thought long held back had finally been let out.

O'tchakha smiled gently back at her, "Zen, I want you to know that I feel the same way. You don't need to worry about crossing some line, though. Sometimes I would like to do more than just hold your hand." Her face was still a bit red, but her voice was stead, reassuring.

"I think you may have found your answer, then." Ryune spoke gently, "Trust in one another and in yourselves. You are the masters of your own fates, now. Find your happiness, and love without fear."

M'naago gave her shoulder a squeeze, pleased with how the conversation had gone, adding, "When Ryune and I formed our relationship, we didn't really know what we were doing either. Though, as I learned, what you do is often a lot less important than who you do it with."

"Words oft repeated, yet no less true for it." O'tchakha replied, "You've certainly given us much to consider."

"Yes, though perhaps on our own time, rather than in the midst of a social gathering." D'zentsa commented, seeming to suddenly remember where they were.

"I hope that doesn't mean you'll be leaving so soon. I did make a dessert before you all got here." Ryune said, pointing a thumb back towards the kitchen.

Their eyes lit up in excitement. Ryune hoped that these would be the moments and the flavors that signified a new era of understanding and happiness for them both as she retrieved her sweet chocolate-filled pastries for them to enjoy.

#ffxiv #ryune avereth #m'naago #D'zentsa #O'tchakha #ash to dawn

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millimononym · 10 months

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made a pinned post cuz why not

Milli / Oli / Oliver / Olivia

any pronouns! (He/Him, It/Its, They/Them, She/Her and neopronouns are fine too if you feel like it)

I speak SRP/ENG

Here's my tag guide

Warnings are tagged as both "cw SOMETHING" and "tw SOMETHING" with the EXCEPTION of unreality, which is just tagged as that. if i haven't tagged a warning properly feel free to tell me and i will try to fix it

Media I like:

-Brawl Stars

-Bully scholarship edition/ Canis Canem Edit

-Galactik football

-Batman the animated series

-The Batman 2022

-Legion of Super Heroes 2006

-One Piece (caught up to manga btw)

-Homestuck (on act 6 btw)

-Danganronpa 1 and 2 (don't like v3)

-Ginga Nagareboshi Gin and GDW

I am also currently watching/rewatching/reading:

-MAR (Marchen Awakens Romance)

-Adventure time (on like s5)

-Batman the Audio adventures (finished s1)

-JL cartoon

-LOSH comics, in chronological order (im not even through the classic comics)

-Yu-Gi-Oh, very slowly

-Watership down

Some other things about me:

-i like to draw. Dunno if I'm any good at it but i try

-i am interested in translation!!! I like translating things from English to serbian and vice versa but it takes an ungodly amount of time unfortunately

-gonna try and learn how to code so i can make my own neocities site

-gonna also try to finish Homestuck but hgghhh time consuming comic is time consuming

-love lego sets but don't have too many cuz expensive...

-my fave batman villain is the riddler

DNI "MAPS"(aka pedos),zoos, TERFs, truscum/transmeds or any supporters of any of the former i am going to kill you. Proshippers will also usually get blocked on sight. Please block me first so i never have to interact with you ok thanks bye

I don't really care what fandoms you're a part of as long as you're a normal person

#milli's monologuing

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villains4hire · 1 year

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The End

"Once upon a time-," Betilla suddenly stopped, eyes going to some noise from one of Rayman's friends, the man in question turned his neckless head to them, the fae's smile turned to a smirk at the interruption.

Giving a joking, feigned demeanor of humbleness as Betilla stared at them over the glowing tome in her hands, "Hm? Me? A story about me? I could never-hay~ You don't want to learn about me, I'm just the guide, the story-teller-... well, okay, if you like hearing this? I presume you reaaally want to know if you're trying to find me later of all people. I'm gonna be reaaal formal and cryptic with this though, nothing personal-hay, just thems the ruuules!"

"But fine, fine, you might just find it a little boring."

Then the story would begin as pages turned in a flutter of paper by themselves, the narrator continuing soon after. Only giving brief details, leaving so much unsaid of what was actually written.

A fairy hovering around ten feet tall, cloaked in green cloth, leaves, vines and a few twigs for her made dress, that scarlet hair swaying in the wind as she turned with that cute freckled face, having called him over in the first place. Floating down to stand in front of him, quite clearly twice the size of Rayman, the great fairy would greet him, giving him a rather doting, motherly hug as she picked him up easily- the glowing, featureless lum orbs near her hat subtly swaying along with the star floating near the tip as she gave him the hug-down. Then a ruffling pet on the head as she set him to his feet, "You ready to go, kiddo? We need to get to work now, there's lots to be done-hay!" A nod and reply of gibberish from her beloved son and creation, that near endless smile became sincere as she shrunk to simply the size of a ruler, flying beside him with rapidly fluttering wings as he ran forward. Her magic in the forest, swaying the leaves as it broke out above the darkness, shimmering ahead as hope rang true.

"I am the whisper in the endless winds that gently sway the leaves, leaving speckles of light shining through the trees, the sun like a burst of rain drops on the trampled ground, guiding you on terra's path."

Rayman making a 'hoop-uh' noise as he leaped, a fist soaring forward in a brutal uppercut, delivering justice to an unsuspecting being of corruption as they'd be thrown into a tree, Betilla weaving in and out, protecting his flank as earth and stone raised, those movements, quick, sparking with haste, yet flowed elegantly like water as his roaring foes threatened to overwhelm him as her guiding light came to him as he brawled, merely nudging him in the right direction, the courage coming naturally to him in his steps and footing as Rayman dodged, weaved and jumped.

"I am the light of the star dancing in the dark, never leaving your side, bringing you ever forward."

Laying hollywood style mid-air as Rayman could easily handle these small fry now, an urn of hovering treats materializing by her side, she'd thumb-flick a morsel into her mouth, the other hand, gesturing a vine sprouting out of the ground to whip a few that he missed trying to ambush him as her pearly whites shined in that near cheshire cat grin. Enjoying the show and story his actions told, watching every movement, then every improvement or careful maneuvers made, subtly led by what she taught. It was still his own flair, though, it'd be boring otherwise as she'd assume a 'regular' hovering position upward again.

"I am the smile you see just out of sight with a glimmer in my eye, following every movement of the dance in life you take, just behind the underbrush in the forest, watching you become ever wiser."

Rayman triumphant as he stood on the pile of defeated enemies, though their bodies 'poofing' into lum energy now that he purified them. Falling into a nearby puddle of mud, Betilla giggling, "I guess your only weakness is a little mud-slinging, hay?" Then an ornery flick from Rayman, she'd get some on her cheek, only furthering that grin as she splashed a surprising amount of mud on him back despite being so small, chuckling, "Well-hayo, aren't you feisty as usual ya little munchkin, hm? Oh but looksie here, looks like you got more mud on your face... right- HERE!~" Shifting in that large size, giving him a rather obnoxious mud-noogie before bringing him to his feet, caring thumbs behind strong hands as his face was wiped clean as he laughed with adoring eyes staring up at her, tongue-blepping out the side of her mouth to tease him a little. Yet Rayman paused for a moment as his eyes widened, Betilla not surprised as that smile deepened, a hero needs to know how to move on their feet after all at what he did next.

"I am the chirping birds in their endless mirth at every little cute mistake you make, watching you become ever humble."

Pushing her out of the way as Rayman would tumble with the rather large monster that rushed forward without warning, his strength abound as he delivered a flurry of punches like a dervish, the creature grunting, growling as it snapped its jaws in vain at Rayman as Betilla had already reacted and recovered- side-eyeing them both. Fluttering in the background and impressed with a corner of her mouth curving that row of near shimmering teeth into a loving smirk, her little protector taking on the world for her and everyone's sake as usual as she gave a subtle, passive whistle of admiration.

"I am the babbling brook just around the corner from the roaring waterfall of the pride in joy I have in you, at every triumph you make, watching you become ever stronger."

Yet the fight escalated as the creature grew far and above Betilla's max size, an interested eyebrow raised from the calm, ever smiling fairy, a finger tapping her chin until she heard it.

Rayman blowing her gifted artifact, the lum horn to have her tap into the ring as that maw of fae teeth nearly gritted in satisfaction, brow furrowing, "O-hayo? Looks like I'm up now, huh? Fine, I could use the stretch, ya got five minutes." That neck cracking to the side for a moment into rolling shoulders as she assumed her max size in turn, Rayman getting support from massive roots that'd rumble out of the ground to help reduce the movement of the monster, the cracks of whipping vines latching onto it in battering lashes, the great fairy dashing forward to grab it by the neck as that thick, supernatural body put the beast into a head-lock, using strong rough hands as nature itself brought the evil to its knees with Rayman's help, the phantom fencer and his limbs always on the move in precise, powerful strikes as Betilla opened it up to be struck down in turn after getting the cover she needed. It was sputtering in gags as it began to helplessly flail against the vines and the fae's brutal-grip as Rayman began to charge up after doing a flip away to a stray massive strike from the struggling beast, now glowing in his core as that bulging weakpoint of a pulsating gem on the creature's stomach exposed as the great fairy with flexing muscles partially suplexed that corrupted monster's head into the ground.

"So remember what I've told you..."

Betilla encouraged him as much as Rayman began to shout in a battle cry forward, watching him from the side as always, "Punch him out the box like how I showed you, boy-o." Never taking the final blow as it was not her story to ever tell, the phantom dervish flying forward in that dash now, leaving a trailing blast as he plowed through the underbrush, surrounded in the light as he shot like a cannonball through the beast, going up, up and... oh, wait that's really far up.

Actually sounding concerned, the colossal beast having been blasted apart as she let go of the poofing body, "R-RAYMAN! You little knucklehead, you're using too much strength again!" Watching him go nearly rocketing into the sky in that divine double uppercut, Betilla would rapidly flutter her wings in actual effort, the leaves shaking from her zipping speed forward.

"Hear the whisper in the leaves, then see the speckles of light shining through and shown true like the morning rain to guide you on terra's path. The light of a distant star, dancing with you always, no matter where you are, I will reach you in your darkest hour. Giving a smile behind every giggle, joke, lecture, and prod to keep you grounded as you go around every corner, up and over the babbling brook- on top of the roaring waterfall overlooking the trees and the endless life below it."

Waking up in a gasp, Rayman picked himself off the ground at the edge of the cliffside, the rocks below and the ever-spanning sea and then the forest and its endless life on the other side. Something catching his eye though in the rocks as a brow raised, his head tilting curiously as he had an eye for these things. Something soundlessly approaching from behind as fate called him forward, a hand wordlessly drew closer as he pressed ever to the edge as the choking waters crashed and roared below.

"And that's where you'll find it."

Rayman found himself snapping out of it as he wiggled and comically made a distressed noise as his balance was nearly lost. Yet suddenly getting scruffed, a bit annoyed as that face pressed into his from the side, but relief and warmth in that playful tone, "Hay Hay-o! Rayman, you only have so many life artifacts I've left around that you've collected you little doink. They're not infinite for you, but... good job, let's say we get some food now, o-kayo?"

"The loving hand that leads you to what you all deserve at the end."

"No matter who you are."

Rayman seemed to really like the story as it concluded, but it didn't seem to satisfy the person below who pondered aloud, making noises in that gibberish as if that was it? "Hm? Yup, yup! That's all she wrote, nothing more than that I'm afraid, sorry but not sorry, buck. 'Cause what can I say, I told you it was boring and thems the rules!"

"Anyway..."

The story done for the day, people getting up as the great fairy uttered a whisper in the wind, a wordless sight going to what was almost seen, just out of view- eyes narrowing as all turned away from her, that gaze going to the side past the speckles of sun like shimmering raindrops through the leaves on terra's path, a dancing star of light guiding you around every corner, up and over the babbling brook past the roaring waterfall and the endless life below it of what was etched in stone that had been almost seen.

A mutter and demented smile crept up the corners of that maw like a contained sickness, knowing what was there among the other countless names of stories told, and more to come from her other ever loving yet guiding hand to give them what they deserved.

"The End."

#long post #thems the rules!#ic #drabble save #//this is probably not going to make fucking sense if u don't know some of these characters lmao

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bakersstreetirregulars · 1 year

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CRK 2nd Anniversary Update: City of Wizards - Invitation from the Slumbering Moon

⚙️ Now that the BTS collaboration is over and any associated content is next to gone (except for the BTS Cookies themselves whom you’ve met and any decorations and costumes you’ve found), it’s time to start preparing for TWO years since the game’s release and when everyone’s adventure began.

📚 I’LL handle this story. After all, this is the start of a new Anniversary Squad starting with me and Sir Tea Knight Cookie! Now where are we going…? Ah…! The City of Wizards! *ahem*

“Long ago, there were those who thought differently from the Witches. The Wizards. Using solely the finest, purest of ingredients, they sought Perfection. For the Wizards, Perfection was the final and ultimate form of the Cookies. Yet even they couldn’t fathom the concealed risks of perfectionism.”

🐝 Did someone say PERFECTIONISM?!

📚 Amber?! When did you get here?

🐝 Fixing another window after the sounds of “Bad and Dark” shattered them. Again. Now, REWIND THAT FOOTAGE. Bring up those pictures.

⚙️ …sure, I guess.

🐝 There. You see that? That’s Moonlight, Sugar Glass, and Blueberry Pie too!

⚙️ So? We’ve met Blueberry Cookie in the Hollyberry Kingdom in a brawl. NEXT PHOTO!

🐝 I… Who is that…?

📚 I want to claim it to be Sherbet Cookie, but that cape is too feathery. As if it were a set of wings instead. Reminds me of that one Cookie on the panel for the newsblog we’re recording this post for. We’ll just have to find out for ourselves! ONWARDS, TO WORLD EXPLORATION EPISODE 15: the Dream Express!*

*to be covered on this blog AFTER completing “The Guild Master’s Guide to Surviving the Citadel on the Frozen Cliff”

🚂🌌 Milky Way Cookie

⚙️ And our featured Cookie of the month is… [impact that leads to unconsciousness]

📚 …wasn’t me. We’ll get back to that later as we cover Milky Way Cookie, Charge Cookie and conductor of the “Sugarcloud Express”.

“Milky Way Cookie jumps onto her dream train, gaining a DMG Reduction buff and providing a Stun Resistance buff for the entire team. Then she will push back the enemies several times, applying a DMG Reduction debuff and dealing damage. Once she’s done with her shift, Milky Way Cookie will cast a Shield onto herself and the rest of the team. While Milky Way Cookie is using her skill, she will briefly become resistant to interrupting effects. Being a dweller of the World of Dreams, Milky Way Cookie is not susceptible to the Beckoning Dreams effect.”

📚 In summary, she’ll take less damage as she rides a train headlong into enemies to make them weaker while friendlies are more resistant to stun. Afterwards, she protects everyone with shields. And while we have her pronouns, she is not to be confused with Moonlight Cookie’s costume from Ovenbreak’s Champions League- oop!

🌖 Moonlight Cookie

⚙️ …MOONLIGHT! Now what was that impact anyway? All I know is seeing Moonlight Cookie for a split second, and then there was a nightmare and a “Dream Barrier” and something else I need to examine up close. Anyway, Moonlight is a Legendary Magic Cookie with the skill “Dream of the Night Sky”

“Moonlight Cookie falls asleep in the night sky and dreams a dream where stars fall onto the enemies’ heads, dealing damage and applying a DMG Increase debuff. Then bright moonlight illuminates the battlefield, dealing damage to the enemies and putting them to Sleep. Enemies that didn’t fall Asleep become Drowsy and will fall Asleep when their resistance statuses wear off. When Moonlight Cookie awakens, she will restore her own HP. She will also restore her own HP upon awakening from Sleep effects cast by enemies. Being a dweller of the World of Dreams, Moonlight Cookie is not susceptible to the Beckoning Dreams effect. (DMG relative to Max HP is capped at 300,000)”

⚙️ All of this makes Moonlight Cookie a self-healer after her skill and after a Sleep debuff cast against her expires or gets purified, all with the ability to inflict what could be an equivalent to a Weakness and Stun combo. We also see a familiar notice regarding how damage against maximum HP is limited to 300,000. While the description doesn’t explain where that factors in, I theorize that the pulse that makes enemies sleep is something that goes against rival Cookies’ max HP. This isn’t part of the description on the in-game newsfeed, but rather a hypothesis according to what we’ve seen from similar uses by Sorbet Shark and Black Pearl.

She also has a Cookie Bond with Sea Fairy Cookie: “Sea Breeze Flowing Through the Stars”

We also don’t know what the Beckoning Dreams effect is yet, but we can infer that certain enemies in Chapter 15 may inflict this effect, or that it may be the overall stage debuff similar to the double HP in Chapters 11/12 and the healing/shield reduction and enemy debuff resistance in Chapter 13/14.

Special Toppings

🐝 We’ve found Resonant “Moonkissed” topping that only Moonlight Cookie and Milky Way Cookie can equip. Their effects are usually better than standard toppings. If you equip them alongside existing toppings, you’ll still keep their Set Effect. The minimum Bonus Effect values of these Special Toppings (found when upgraded enough) are higher than regular toppings and are as follows:

ATK

DMG Resist

ATK SPD

CRIT%

CRIT Resist

Cooldown

The following toppings now come in the Moonkissed variant:

Apple Jelly

Raspberry

Chocolate

Almond

Caramel

Dream Conductor’s Whistle

“At the start of the battle, increases CRIT% of all allies by 15% and grants the Whistle buff to the two Cookies with the highest ATK. The Whistle buff increases ATK by 30% and DMG Resist by 10%. When the two Cookie with the Whistle buff are defeated, heals the Max HP of all allies by 30%.”

🕯 Well… where’d you find THIS Treasure? The dreamy yet shrill tone it gives off pushes everyone to land critical hits more often and makes your two strongest Cookies better powerhouses. Lose both of them and your friends heal by about a third of their health minus any deductibles by other debuffs and frost-ridden darkness, just to name a few. Upgrade the Whistle to increase the ATK and DMG Resist buffs it gives to your friends with the Whistle buff.

Might of the Ancients

⚙️ Missing an Ancient Hero? Just have a passion for a specific Kingdom? Here’s your chance to meet one of them RIGHT NOW! (When the update goes live, not now now, duh!) Be TRIPLY SURE when you choose, because there’s no take-backsies once you choose! Upon choosing the one you wanna meet, you can only play with them in World Exploration. HOWEVER! You can unlock more stages, expand the scope of the game where you can play with them, and unlock a special Landmark that improves your Ancients’ stats as you complete missions on their track.

☁️ Oh, but what if you already met the one you chose???

⚙️ Great question Meringue, what DOES happen?! Instead, you get 20 Soulstones (or maybe Soulcores if you’re THAT hardcore enough to get them to 5 stars or higher) and you can play with them in ALL MODES! You can track your progress in the Events tab until you finish, and it’s unknown if you can play it again after you finish your first path. BUT! Before you choose, there are some balance changes to get Pure Vanilla and Hollyberry up to date with all the hip trends and status effects.

🛡 Hollyberry Cookie’s Buffs

DMG Focus & CRIT DMG Reduction Buffs

Seed of Life: Gains a Seed of Life for every CRIT taken while DMG Focus is active. After gaining enough stacks, it will bloom into the Berry of Life and grant an Area Stun for the succeeding skill.

DMG Focus allows her to continually absorb damage.

Oath on the Shield: “Let out a war cry of fury! Hollyberry Cookie charges forward and becomes a shield for her Cookie allies, absorbing part of the damage they take, excluding periodic and indirect damage. While DMG Focus is active, she will reduce CRIT DMG received by her allies and herself, and gain a Seed of Life for every Critical Hit she receives. Once she gains enough Seed of Life stacks, the Seed of Life will bloom into the Berry of Life, enhancing the succeeding skill. The cooldown for Hollyberry Cookie’s first skill is reduced, allowing her to use it faster. While Hollyberry Cookie is using her skill, she will briefly become resistant to interrupting effects.”

⚙️ This’ll make her more effective at protecting other Cookies and clip away part of any CRITs she gets, allowing her to power through CRIT-dependent Cookies like Twizzly Gummy (who spams them a LOT with her skill since her release the month AFTER Hollyberry) and counterattack with a stun! How this applies to PvE modes and rival Cookies there is unknown. The attacks MUST be labeled as a critical hit to advance the Seed of Life. Cream Puff’s skill, for example, does NOT advance it because her CRIT% is stated to be a probability to cast a greater spell with higher damage and healing and does not inflict a critical hit.

🍨 Pure Vanilla Cookie’s Buffs

More targets receive regular Healing and Amplify Buff effects

Counters Injury and increased duration of the Shield, along with Pure Vanilla Cookie consistently healing even when his shield is removed

Love and Peace: “Illuminates the battlefield with his Vanilla Orchid Staff, granting Amplify Buffs to regular healing targets. The light reaches all corners of the battlefield, replenishing the party’s HP and reducing the effect of Injury. Pure Vanilla Cookie heals the amount of HP proportional to the reduction of Injury’s effects. He then casts an HP Shield absorbing an amount of damage proportional to their Max HP. If the Shield is removed or the target cannot receive it, Pure Vanilla Cookie instead grants a buff that restores HP over time. While Pure Vanilla Cookie is using his skill, he will briefly become resistant to interrupting effects.”

⚙️ Pure Vanilla Cookie now casts a +25% Amplify Buff effect when he heals regularly. When he uses his skill, he can now better counteract against injuries inflicted by several enemies, prominently those in Chapters 13/14, Dark Cacao Cookie, and Espresso Cookie (with his Magic Candy), freeing up the amount of HP lowered by injuries by 50% and healing the difference. If a friendly unit loses their shield or can’t receive one for whatever reason (EX: Zapped by Twizzly, Cursed by Affogato), they immediately gain a regeneration buff that heals them over time. And just like everyone else, he now gains partial immunity to forceful interruptions like stuns as he casts his special skill.

New Costumes

⚙️ That’s a lot of new costumes there. Some from space, Dark Cacao’s old outfit from when he became the king of a new land, and that one time where Pomegranate became the manager of the B.A.D 4. The Hanbok ones will only stick around for the Lunar New Year, so claim them while you can!

Kingdom Design

📚 You can now customize the kingdom even more to your liking with all-new Kingdom Backgrounds and Fountain of Abundance designs! Requirements to change the designs of certain areas are as follows:

Cookie Castle: Upgrade to level 6

Fountain of Abundance: Upgrade to level 13

Arena Statue: Unlock the Kingdom Arena

Kingdom Background: Reach Kingdom Level 35

🐝 Oh yeah, we’ve also put up some balloons and billboards to celebrate 2 years of Kingdom since it’s no longer snowing in your kingdom.

Welcome Back Missions

⚙️ Available only to anyone who hasn’t played for 45 days prior to logging in (which doesn’t include the Editor), anyone that returns for this update can now access some bonus missions after clearing stage 3-1 in World Exploration. Once you complete these missions, you’ll get some neat bonuses for the entire event period!

🥛 Milk Cookie Balancing

“Noble Sacrifice” DMG +5%

Taunt Duration: Now labeled correctly (was 5.8 seconds -> now 5 seconds)

“Noble Resolution” +10 description adjusted: Greater DMG with regular attacks; stacks up to 3x

Additional Patch Notes

🗺 World Exploration & Cookie Odyssey: Battle Difficulty Lowered (possibly with emphasis on Chapters 13/14)

This renders some power ratings posted on various World Exploration posts on THIS blog regarding Episode 13 and the first 10 stages of Episode 14 outdated. They will not be changed, as the general details and tips for those stages are generally the same.

🏰🛠✅ Upgrade Completion of Cookie Castle: You can now see the time needed for the next upgrade

🌳 Tree of Wishes: Golden Wishes now count as two Wishes fulfilled on the counter for daily rewards

12 new in-kingdom Cookie interactions

Almond and Prophet

Cherry Blossom and Schwarzwälder

Pinecone and Pancake

Fig and Pinecone

Moon Rabbit and Milky Way

Candy Diver and Sorbet Shark

Moonlight and Sherbet

Moonlight and Squid Ink

Milky Way and Cream Unicorn

Moonlight and GingerBrave

Moonlight and Werewolf

Milky Way and Clotted Cream

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #new update #moonlight cookie #milky way cookie #city of wizards #milk cookie #pure vanilla cookie #hollyberry cookie

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