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thegoldielocks28 · 2 years

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26 for Hiromi and Yuriy!

Nr 26: Sick Days.

As long as Yuriy has known Hiromi, which counts to a few years by now, the woman has always been someone whose presence easily fills up the room. Bright laughter, a high and demanding voice and that confidence that only seemed to have gotten stronger with time.

Yet, when he really thinks about it, does he really know her at all? Just like many of the bladers he met during his career Yuriy seldom looked beyond what they could bring to the dish: what harm they could do to his brothers.

Hiromi was never a blader. Yuriy´s relationship with her has been about is passning greetings in hallways, asking about Kai: nothing important.

What he has come to understand though is that people would be fools to underestimate her. It takes strength to wake Takao in the mornings, determination to get Daichi to not become a circus ape in public, and confidence to strengthen the Chief when he doubts himself. Not to mention the dynamic between Takao, Kai, Max and Rei who all have gotten hungry for the title of world champion as of late. Yuriy has observed them for a long time.

Who would know where the Japanese team would be without Hiromi?

Not on top, that's for sure.

(Yuriy rather not think too deeply about the Chief and Daichi and their part in the success of the Bladebreakers as his pride is still hurt from that disaster of a tournament years back. Hah.)

It was Kai who told the team, somewhat out of the blue, that the old Bladebreakers wanted to meet up. Annoyance had flared up within him as Kai just recently had decided to join the Russian team for this season. Yuriy had been prepared to remind Kai of how much practice he'd have to catch up with if he went when Kai interrupted him and told them they were all invited to stay at the Kinomiya dojo. All of the Russian team. The suggestion sure surprised him and his brothers but the thought of meeting old rivals made them eager to go.

The only reluctant one was Boris, and for good reasons.

A month lafer Kai, Ivan, Sergei, Boris and Yuriy himself finds themselves in Tokyo Japan, in the middle of hot-as-fuck-August. The season of summer festivals, the sound of crickets and colorful shaved ice. Yuriy can't count how many iced treats he bought since he first arrived. Hot and bothered, he tries to withstand the exotic warmth of Japan and seeing his team make connections makes it easier.

There's warmth in his chest he can't really name just yet.

Today though, something about the brunette is different. The young woman who 's often the one keeping check on people and things seemed out of it, silent, and her closer friends don't seem to notice as they're too busy catching up and enjoying the quick pace of the day. Even so, she had gone out of her way to help Yuriy and his team to find some sort of comfort in the intense heat.

Yuriy can feel her warmth and scent as Hiromi moves closer to him, aiding him in tying the soft summer yukata around him with gentle yet firm hands. The closeness would often be something he´d dislike, but after trying to figure out how to tie this night-gown-like robe for a while and not succeeding, he found himself in dire need of help. Tilting his head away at first to get more space, he silently ponders about her scent. He'd thought she'd choose something stronger, but this scent is much like vanilla and coconut. As the silence is beginning to become awkward Yuriy shifts, looks down at her through eyelashes, and only then notices the paleness of her skin. Blue eyes linger on her face.

“You tie it like this… “She murmurs at last. “This should keep you cool outside… it has a matching uchiwa. Uh, a handfan? Too. Here.”

Yuriy observes Hiromi as she looks up at him, forcing a weak smile upon their eye contact. Seems like that's when the woman realizes just how close they are standing and takes a few steps back. Yuriy hesitates for a moment, but as he's about to comment on her bad complexion he´s interrupted.

“With your hair like that, Yura, you look like a pretty little thing.” Boris' rough voice can be heard through the room.

Yuriy frowns in annoyance as he reaches up to tie his red hair into a simple bun. Ever since Boris got taller than him he has never stopped pointing it out. Because Boris and Sergei are both taller and broader, and Ivan is a unique size of his own, there weren't any traditional robes around that´d suit them. All is clad in shorts and t-shirts. It seems as if Hiromi had realized the heat had gotten to him and put in the effort to find one of her family's old robes for him to wear. Thin, soft, and good in the heat. Even while not feeling her best she´d done that for them.

It´s a short walk towards the shrine, and the heat is intense. The humidity makes it worse. Yet, the sight in front of them distracts. Colorful lanterns, several food stands, people dressed up, laughter. Yuriy observes how his teammates mingle with the Asian team, with the people that had been there during the fall of Balkov, and finds satisfaction in the sight. His focus moves from to Hiromi, she's the only one not really joining in the conversation.

Yuriy positions himself just behind Hiromi as they all start to climb up the stone stairs towards the shrine. A part of him does it out of instinct, another because of how small her shoulders look at that moment, and only after a small while is it proved that he did the right thing. Suddenly, Hiromi missteps and she's about to fall. Yuriy extends his arm and she falls against his chest. Hiromi lets out a small yelp, but soon tries to act as if everything is normal, cheeks in a blush. Yuriy ends up staring at her in dismay as she looks up at him while preparing to act normal.

“Thanks! That could have been a nasty fall.” Hiromi says, laughing awkwardly.

She places a hand on his chest and tries to create a distance between them but Yuriy´s hand on her shoulder doesn´t let go.

"Yuriy, what´s wrong?" Hiromi asks, his stare must have felt heavy, just as his touch.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that," He replies flatly, hand moving to rest on his hip as he shifts his weight: finally letting go of her. "You're forcing yourself, aren't you?" His tone is not amused, or gentle: it's accusing.

"...How did you notice? Hiromi asks in a low voice, one of her hands moving to touch her lower stomach, just as if she's in pain.

"I'm a captain: it's my job."

The group of bladers stop after a while as they notice they´re missing two of their friends. Boris looks down at his Captain and looks puzzled upon seeing Hiromi so close to him, and avoids looking at them all.

“Are you okay, Hil?” Takao asks, Kai too shifts to look back at the only woman in the group.

Her cheeks are flushed with a fever even in this humid heat. She´s facing Yuriy as if she doesn't want the others to see her expression. Yuriy´s eyes rest on her before he looks at the others.

“I'm goo–!” Hiromi starts stubbornly.

“Think she needs a rest. I´ll walk her back to the dojo, you continue to enjoy yourselves.” Yuriy interrupts Hiromi, earning him a surprised look.

Kai raises a brow.

“You're all here to catch up right?” Yuriy says, giving Kai one of his don´t-argue-with-me stares.

“...Sure, you have my number if anything happens.” Kai says after a small silence, red eyes moving to Hilary.

The Russian Captain gets more and more aware of all of these people´s bonds with each other. With how Kai too has grown, treasures all of them. The warmth in his chest seems to grow. Yuriy looks at his team and the Bladebreakers´ retreating backs before he looks at the woman by his side.

“Your stomach aches?” Yuriy asks, waiting for her patiently as they start to climb down the stairs together.

“Yeah….” Hiromi starts. “Bad cramps.”

Yuriy doesn´t ask for more of an explanation than that. It´d be too invasive, and he can tell this situation is already making the girl awkward as it is. The silence between them grows gentle: forgiving. Just as if the strong front Hiromi had tried to keep up had fallen and she accepts the situation as it is.

The walk home goes smoothly, and Yuriy unlocks the door once Hiromi gives him the key. Yuriy would have been more relaxed if Takao´s grandfather was there, but the old man seems to be on a trip with his friends. Playing bingo, or what old people do here in Japan. Closing the door, Yuriy heards Hiromi into one of the rooms they´ve used as sleeping quarters during their stay.

“Rest.” Yuriy tells her, gesturing to his futon, the mattress and sheets on the floor.

Hiromi lays down just as Yuriy asks, and closes her eyes. Leaving her alone for just a short moment he returns with a damp cloth and a small bowl of water. Yuriy kneels down at her side, eyes taking in how damp her fringe is from sweat, how pale she is… Yuriy takes the wet towel and places it on her forehead.

“You're too stubborn for your own good.” Yuriy says at last.

“...You´re supposed to be kind and sweet to those who are sick.” Hiromi answers in a pout.

“So you're finally admitting you're not well?” Yuriy can´t keep a smirk from forming on his lips.

“Just didn't want it to get in the way, you know?” Hiromi says. “Everyone was excited, and I didn't want to miss out. Can you get my bag, I have some pills there.”

Yuriy gets up, and finds Hiromi´s bag after a bit of a search, and goes and gets a glass of water for her as well.

“Thanks.”

Silence drags out between them but Yuriy doesn´t let it bother him this time. He helps her rearrange the wet cloth on her forehead after she settles once more. Yuriy sits down more comfortably, his eyes resting on Hiromi as she seems to relax and rest. Like this he notices more things about her that he had missed before. The length of her dark eyelashes, the smallness of her nose, how her hair has hints of different shades of brown and not only the one he first had seen. Hiromi´s breathing changes as she falls asleep. Yuriy waits by her side for a while longer before he gets up and gives her privacy.

After a few hours the others return home. Yuriy is sitting in the kitchen reading, but puts a finger over his lips and makes a “shhh” sound. Kai glares back at the noisiest members of the team before he ventures deeper into the room, putting a hand on Yuriy´s shoulder for a short moment.

Hiromi joined them for dinner, and Yuriy is content to see she isn't as pale as she was when they first returned to the dojo. As if she is sensing Yuriy observing her, Hiromi looks up from her bowl of udon and smiles at him. Yuriy blinks, then nods his head a bit awkwardly before returning to his conversation with the others.

Even if it's getting late, and dark outside, the heat is still making Yuriy´s skin damp with sweat. As the others loudly take part in some card games indoors Yuriy sneaks out the door, and sits down by the koi pond outside. The Kinomiya dojo has a small Japanese garden in the back, and it has a calming effect on him.

Yuriy isn´t sure how long he sits there by himself. However, after a while, the door behind him slides open and he hears the padding of feet as someone approaches him from behind. The man can soon tell who it is as the scent of vanilla and coconut washes over him.

“Hey.” Hiromi says, sitting down by his side.

Yuriy looks at her as Hiromi sits down by his side. Taking in her expression once more as they´re now a bit closer, only greeting her when he´s sure she seems fine.

“I just wanted to say thanks.” She continues. “Thanks for helping me today.”

“It´s nothing.”

Yuriy can't help but flinch just a little as her hand touches his for the briefest of moments. Hiromi´s skin is warm, soft, and leaves him all too quickly. Blue eyes move to take in her profile as Hiromi continues to talk. Her voice bright and a little bit loud, not caring if the topic would bore Yuriy or not, she talks away. Yuriy can´t say it bothers him one bit.

It seems like just like his brothers, Yuriy is forming new connections as well.

#dr-craw #Beyblade #Yuriy Ivanov #Tachibana Hiromi #Hilary Tachibana #Tala Valkov #fanfiction #fanfic #I hope this one is alright!#I´m not too used to write this ship or these characters to be honest #Thank you so much for the advice and help Stroblitz

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aurorascarletantares · 7 months

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For JuliaMathilda, how do you think Mathilda reacts when she firsts sees Julia performing at the circus? Do you think Julia ever tried teaching Mathilda circus-clown stuff/acrobatics?

I pretty much believe Mathilda would be very mesmerized when she see Julia at her performance. After all, is her first time going to circus. Every time Julia enters on stage, Mathilda would go full time fangirl mode for her.

And oh, yes, Julia tried to teach Mathilda, alongside with the Barthez boys some acrobacies. Too bad Mathilda had fallen down a lot of times, after all it was her first time trying to do a backflip, but Julia hold her most of the time at her arms, much for Miguel's dismay. But the boys had so much fun overall. (I actually like this kind of image...)

Thank you for your ask! It was really fun to answer it!

#beyblade #mathilda alster #julia romero #bakuten shoot beyblade #answered ask #julia/mathilda #f sangre #barthez soldiers #dr-craw

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jollyrolls · 2 years

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I just wanna say that whenever I see that grinning Anya icon of yours pop up on my Tumblr it instantly brightens my day. *Squishes cheeks*

omg thank you So much!!! I will be smiling the whole week thinking about your message! I love seeing your posts! Especially the beyblade ones🤩😍😍🤩 *sends virtual hugs*

Anya does have the best expressions doesn't she? Have some more!

#ask box #dr-craw #thank you so much!#anya forger

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attex · 2 years

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Top 5 obscure games?

i cant answer this properly .

1. the last door

#dr-craw #maybe ill think of more later.#hexatxt

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izzymeadows · 1 year

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🎼 and 🙃 for the ask

Hi!

🎼 Your favorite music to draw to right now?

I'm not using music to draw lately, but to at least give you an answer, I like to draw to Final Fantasy OST a lot. I found a Distant Worlds playlist on Spotify and I usually choose that one for that.

🙃 Which is easier: faces facing left, right, or front view?

To me, 3/4 facing left. Then front view (which is a lot easier when you draw digitally, because you can copypaste the eyes and eyebrows if you need it), 3/4 facing right, and they're the hardest from the side to me. Both equally hard i think.

Thanks for asking! <3

Here's the ask

#ask #answered asks #artist asks #dr-craw

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ijinks · 1 year

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Background characters!

Some characters just matter more than others. I’ve made a tier list of my characters here, but here’s this video for everyone else!

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shelbgrey · 1 year

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Hi honey, I want to place an order for Twilight please. I want something for "being Rosalie and Emmett's daughter" the girl would be Jasper and Alice's goddaughter, hence, "granddaughter" of Esme and Carlisle. If it wasn't too much to ask, write how you think her relationship with each person in your family would be, Clan Denali would also enter this medium, since they are such good friends with Carlisle (I love them). Anyway, that's it honey, if it's too much for you, let me know, I never meant to be rude 😔💗

Being Emmett and Rose's daughter and the youngest in the Cullen family:

Your relationships with them:

Emmett and Rosalie:

They are your parents, they adopted you a little bit over a century before the big move to Forks.

Unlike the people around you, you have a strong relationship with your parents. Rosalie is a loving mother and Emmett is very much an over protective father.

The over protectiveness can get annoying but you know he means well. At first he was afraid to touch you, with his super human strangth he was always afraid to be around you. That didn't stop you from when you were a baby beacuse you'd just follow him everywhere. If he was working on his jeep you were crawling under there with him holding a flashlight. If he was play video games you'll craw on the couch and read a Dr. Suse book next to him.

Rosalie always makes sure your loved a cared for. She makes sure you eat proper meals, buys you anything you want, and most importantly she's always there to listen. It's hard to keep things from her and you know you can tell her anything.

Their worst fear is you becoming a vampire... But they also don't want to lose you once you get into your old age. It's a subject that wasn't discussed and you just didn't bring it up. That's the only thing you guys fight about... That and boys.

You've never seen your father so angry when he found out Pual Imprinted on you. Rose was just disponted on who it was but she was glad you found someone you loved. I think part of her was afraid you'll end up in this same relationship she was when she dated Ryoce King.

But then they saw that dispite his temper he treated you like a queen and that's what matter.

Alice and Jasper:

These two are your godparents. I think part of Rose wanted it to be carlisle and Esma but over the years she relized Alice was the best choice.

You love Alice and all but sometimes you argue. Mostly over clothes. There's been many first days of school that you hid in carlisle's office because you didn't want to wear a dress. After school you guys do make up.

She always makes sure you know your beautiful. If your insecur about something she'll try and help you see the beauty in it. If you hate your hair she'll come up with different styles intill you find one you like.

Jasper is the one you'll set with if you want peace. If there's a big family gathering and you don't want to talk you'll be with Jasper.

To him your the only thing pure in his life and he'll tare down the world for you.

You love hearing stories from jasper's past.

Jasper tought you how to swing a bat and to play baseball.

Carlisle and Esme:

You have a strong bond with these two.

Your close to carlisle and he always inspires you to be kind to others and he's the reason you want to go to medical school.

If you have a problem that you feel you can't tell your parents you go to him.

You guys bond over books and like with Jasper, you love hearing his stories.

Carlisle is just as protective if not more than Emmett. Carlisle is very calm and collected, but if anything is causing you harm his eyes will be blazing with anger.

Esme was the first one to except your relationship with Paul... Carlisle on the other hand didn't like it.

“I don't like him”

“that's a first” Esme said rolling her eyes.

Emes loves like you like you were own daughter. She's always puts you first and would give you the world if she could.

Dispite there young aprences you call them Pops and grams. When you were a little you couldn't say carlisle properly so you just called him car then pops.

You guys love going to the movies together and they'll watch whatever you want and always show interest in what you like.

Edward and bella:

You don't get along with Bella. Pirod. She doesn't treat you like your part of the family, which it doesn't matter because you were there first.

Edward is more like a brother. Your both closer in age and he treats you like a little sister more then a niece.

He loves you but sometimes he doesn't see that Bella treats you like crap. Infact none of them do expect your mother and Carlisle.

You never told them beacuse you didn't want to ruin anything for Edward but then one day rose and carlisle cought her in the act. You made them promise not to say anything.

You and Edward are close like I said before. You don't see him as the monster he thinks he is and you always try and make his life more brighter.

You never fail to make him laugh.

He tought you how to play piano and you guys bond over music.

Bella causes problems so the day she slapped Paul and he phased she tried to pin it on you right when the family started to except him. You and Paul explained everything and Edward took your side, which you were thankful for.

The denalis:

You and Eleazar have the type of relationship that you guys make each other laugh at the wrong time. Camron and Rosalie can't take you guys anywhere.

Camron loves you to bits and taught to how to speak Spanish. She teaches to about her culture and it warms her heart that you care so much.

Tanya and Kate are like big sister to you. You have inside jokes the others don't understand and your always laughing.

Irina and your get along but you aren't close. She stoped talking to you after Paul and the pack killed Laurant. You could understand why she would be angry but it hurt knowing she hates you because you love a wolf.

Garrett and you have a love hate relationship. You guys teas and taunt each other. At first it was out of spite beacuse your personalites just didn't clash but then he grew a soft spot for you and you became buddies.

#twilight imagines #twilight headcanon #Rosalie x daughter!reader #Cullen family x reader #denial #Alice cullen #Jasper Hale #Carlisle cullen #Esme cullen #Edward cullen #Bella swan #Rosalie Hale #Emmett cullen #Paul lahote

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niziye · 4 months

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A sketch of Kai and Hana that @dr-craw reminded me of what I've wanted to do for a long time, thank you! ✩

It's a bit messy because I gave up on the line in the middle of the process ...

Probably my last drawing of the year. Additionally, happy new year!! ✧°. Thank you again for your support and kindness throughout the year ♡ It has been a great joy to share my ideas and illustrations with everyone, I hope to continue making more illustrations and following more work from everyone in the fandom ✮

#kai hiwatari #bakuten shoot beyblade #Beyblade #Hana beyblade

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hellovivirose · 6 months

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More face meme challenge requests! BINGO ON ROW 3!

(Some faces I shifted slightly because of simultaneous requests!)

Daichi in A1 @kinomiya

Mao/Mariah in C1 @hiwatarilife

Voltaire in E8 @nekobakubey

Tsuki in B8 @teabiscs

Julia in F3 @dr-craw

Below is the tracker to show what been done and what’s on the way! There are still a few more faces and plenty more characters (like a looooot of VForce characters). Let me know who you’d like to see next :)

If I’ve missed your request, apologies! Don’t be afraid to poke me to remind me…

#beyblade #bakuten shoot beyblade #mao chen #julia fernandez #kagami futsuki #garland siebald #soichiro Hiwatari #daichi sumeragi #Voltaire #mariah wong #face challenge #hellovividraws

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drdemonprince · 1 year

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Dear Dr Price,

If you're still doing the autism advice column: do you have any tips for navigating socialising for autistic people who hate lying, since socialising requires so many polite lies?

I am still writing the column! Would you care to follow up and tell me more about which kinds of lies get the most under your skin? Polite lies run a wide gamut from "saying I'm doing okay when someone asks me how my day is" to "pretending to be interested in the show my friend's talking about" to "finding some highly covert, diplomatic way to raise any concerns at work because being open about problems will get me fired" with a whole lot in between, and many Autistic people qualify certain pleasantries as lies that neuro-conforming people might not even register as dishonest at all, so specific examples of what really gets in your craw or that you find yourself having to do would help me answer the question.

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teabiscs · 7 months

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continuing a tag game! "9 people you would like to get to know better"

Thank you @moonandblossoms for the tag!!

1. 3 ships; right now my top three are:

Kai/Rei Gojo/Geto (because I love to be heartbroken) Yuriy/Boris

2. first ever ship; ooof. we going back a long time here. maybe ash/misty from pokemon?

3. last song; stutter by marianas trench (if you like sad music theyre ya band)

4. last movie; sasaki and miyano graduation

5. currently reading; not really reading a book per say. im in the midst of several manga series. but have a ton of danmei i've been collecting because I AM NOT binging a series that is not complete yet (looking at you TGCF) I reallu want to start reading The Husky and His White Cat Shizun, but i know it's gonna be like 10-12 volumes and idk if i can wait that long. i could read an unoffical translation. but *shrug emoji*

6. currently watching; jujutsu kaisen/murder documentaries on youtube

7. currently consuming; iced coffee

8. currently craving; more time in the day. feel like time has been passing by so quickly and its making me so anxious.

9 people to tag; @dr-craw, @evallina @niziye @bethylee @let-it-ripperoni @gingericywolf @talasworld @luxahheart @syfien

if ya'll want to! don't feel like you have to!

#about me

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nekobakubey · 5 months

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Asides from the other Christmas drawing, I drew this after a conversation on Discord with @hellovivirose and @dr-craw

Here Celeste invites her akwardly social cousin Alena to a Christmas party, and when the pictures start, she tells her to smile for the camera but well, she doesn’t know how to behave on those situations and this was their Christmas picture

Again I used watercolors, but I am still not used to the texture of the paper, I can’t do proper lineart 🥺 so yeah, I know these hands looks terrible, I also leave here the pre-lineart sketch

#beyblade #beyblade oc #alena volkova #Alena Vladimirovna Volkova #celeste langley #ocs #oc #oc doodles #oc art #oc drawing #oc artwork #oc illustration #pentel watercolors #watercolor

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longitudinalwaveme · 7 months

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Fictober 2023

Prompt #9

Fanfiction Fandom: Flash Rogues

Rating: PG

Warning: Mild horror.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

On an old wooden table, lit only by the flickering flame of a bunsen burner and the glow from the huge harvest moon, Dr. Jonathan Crane measured and mixed the psychoactive chemicals that would serve as the basis for his latest batch of fear toxin.

Synthetic cortisol, the artificial hormone that he had manufactured when he had still had access to the impressive laboratory facilities of Gotham University’s psychiatric department. Epinephrine and norepinephrine, catecholamines to increase the heart rate, blood pressure, and blood sugar levels, speed up breathing, and dilate the pupils of its targets. Indolealkylamines, phenylethylamines, and arylcyclohexylamines, reappropriated from Black Mask’s drug dealers and modified to increase their potency and ensure that the test subjects would experience the appropriate hallucinatory experience. Serotonin inhibitors, to ensure that his experiments were not compromised by test subjects who might interpret the physiological arousal induced by the catecholamines as pleasurable rather than terrifying, and dopamine enhancers, to increase the efficacy of the hallucinatory effects caused by the fear toxin. The perfect recipe, in short, for inducing the most primal sort of fear.

“Caw! Caw! Caw!” The loud caw of a crow echoed through the abandoned barn that Dr. Crane had chosen for his latest hideout, breaking his concentration and nearly causing him to knock over one of his bubbling beakers of fear toxin.

“Hush, Craw!” he hissed, trying to silence his pet. Not only was maintaining focus vitally important to ensure that his fear toxin was formulated properly, but excess noise in the dead of night ran the risk of attracting the Batman and his coterie of sidekicks. To be sure, Dr. Crane had put a great deal of effort in ensuring that his hideout was located in a remote cornfield, many miles outside of Gotham, but he had learned from painful experience that no location was too isolated or too far to escape the clutches of his persistent foe. He could not risk anything that might attract the attention of that living essence of chiroptophobia, not now. Not while his fear toxin was as yet incomplete, and the research which depended upon that toxin in its earliest stages, not remotely adequate for publication.

Creeeeak! At the sound of the old barn door swinging on its hinges, Dr. Crane felt his heart rate increase and his blood vessels constrict. A slight smile played across his lips as a shiver ran down his spine. There was nothing quite so exquisite as the feeling of having fear under control, and in this case, he knew that there was no reason to truly be frightened. The Batman would have entered the barn without making a sound.

“Caw! Caw!” Craw’s cry became louder and more rapid, much to the annoyance of Dr. Crane. Couldn’t the bird tell that there was no threat?

Two seconds later, the world started to spin. The table at which he sat twisted and distorted, and Dr. Crane felt his sense of equilibrium vanish as he fell out of his chair. As he fell, a syringe of fear toxin flew out of the pocket of his lab coat, and landed on the floor behind him. Dr. Crane hit the ground at an odd angle, and a sharp burst of pain shot through his right arm. While it was extremely difficult to ascertain the exact nature of the injury with his surroundings spinning, contorting, and bending in on themselves, he suspected that he had fractured his radius.

“What in tarnation–” It never failed. Whenever he was taken by surprise, the Georgian twang slipped back into Dr. Crane’s voice, and brought with it a host of memories that he would have permanently erased from his memory if he hadn’t known that attempting to do so would risk doing irreparable damage to both his hippocampus and his prefrontal cortex. Dr. Crane scowled. He was not sure who or what had caused this sudden attack of vertigo, but regardless of their identity, they would have their own personal hell to pay for daring to attack the Scarecrow.

“Good evening, Dr. Jonathan Crane. Or rather, good morning—it is, after all, 12:20 AM.” Scarecrow tried to follow the voice and find its source, but the darkness of the night and his ever-increasing sense of vertigo made that impossible. He would have to lure his mysterious attacker into the light.

“Yes—the witching hour. What brings you to my parlor on such a frightful night as this?” Dr. Crane didn’t sound quite as menacing as he had hoped, but it was rather hard to focus on intimidation when one was trying to avoid throwing up all of the contents of one’s stomach. Whoever his mysterious attacker was, he professed a thorough admiration for their knowledge of anatomy and physiology. Being able to induce such intense vertigo was no small chemical feat.

“A few things—but payback is on the top of my list,” the voice replied, full of a cold fury that didn’t quite mask an undertone of fear. If he hadn’t been so disoriented, Dr. Crane would have smiled. It was always amusing to interact with test subjects who believed that their anger successfully masked their fear.

“Payback? For what offense?” Dr. Crane asked his attacker. If he—and Dr. Crane was fairly certain from the voice that his attacker was indeed a “he”---wanted revenge, that meant that he had more than likely been one of his test subjects.

“You don’t remember?” He didn’t. Although the speaker’s voice did sound vaguely familiar, Dr. Crane had experimented on thousands of test subjects over the years, and unless they were particularly famous or had a particularly unusual fear, he generally didn’t remember their individual identities after the termination of the experiment in which they had participated.

“If you would jog my memory by informing me of the precise year of the study in which you were a participant, it would be much appreciated.”

“Study? It was no study, you sadistic quack! It was torture, implemented for your own sick amusement!” The sense of disorientation increased, and Dr. Crane promptly lost his battle with vertigo and vomited all over the floor.

“Very well, then. If it makes you feel more comfortable, we will use your terminology for now. When did I torture you for my own sick amusement?” Dr. Crane asked, making sure to keep his voice even. It wouldn’t do to let his attacker believe that the Scarecrow could be bothered by such a minor thing as vertigo.

“It was nine years ago, in the state prison that would eventually be rebuilt as Iron Heights Penitentiary. It was my first term in prison, and the prison administrators sent me to you for a psychological evaluation. When I respectfully informed you that I was not mentally ill, you pulled out a syringe and injected me with what I can only assume was a prototype of your fear toxin. You made me hallucinate the most awful things—being called a failure by my father, losing my intelligence, having all my precious tops destroyed—and then, to top it all off, you had the nerve to tell the guards that my screams were attributable to my so-called “illness”! I had nightmares for months after that little “evaluation”. Do you remember now, Dr. Jonathan Crane?” Dr. Crane smiled as the provided details, and the speaker’s formal but stilted speech patterns and Midwestern accent, finally clicked his memories into place. It seemed he had been tracked down by one of his earliest test subjects.

“Roscoe Neyle Dillon, aged—let’s see, you would be forty years old now. I diagnosed you with bipolar disorder, type one, and autism spectrum disorder. My observations of your behavior under the influence of a prototypical version of my fear toxin indicated that you also suffer from atychiphobia, the fear of failure.” There was a snarling sound, and then Roscoe Dillon stepped into the light of the harvest moon. He was wearing a truly bizarre yellow-and-green striped leotard and a black mask, and he was considerably more muscular than Dr. Crane remembered him being. But all of that paled in comparison to the man’s eyes, which were glowing in an eerie shade of green and illuminating the rest of his face in a sickly glow. The overall effect was enough to spook even the Scarecrow, but Dr. Crane had no intention of letting his fear get the better of him.

“I must say, Roscoe, you’ve changed considerably since we last met—and yet for all that, I can tell that you haven’t conquered your fears. Tell me, Roscoe, what are you afraid of?” As he spoke, Dr. Crane slowly moved his left arm towards the syringe of fear toxin that was still lying on the floor behind him.

“Afraid? Doctor Jonathan Crane, it is you who should be afraid. I am not your powerless prisoner anymore—and you are going to learn that those who cross the Top end up with their lives spinning out of control.” Dr. Crane’s hand closed around the syringe. His disorientation would make precisely aiming his injection difficult, but he was experienced enough at administering injections to be able to compensate for that and successfully pump his attacker full of enough fear toxin to destroy his mind.

“Ah, ah, ah, Dr. Jonathan Crane. I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Suddenly, Dr. Crane’s hand was forced open by nothing he could see, and the syringe flew across the room, disappearing into the darkness. Dr. Crane’s mouth dropped open.

“How on Earth—?”

“When you said that I had changed since we last met, Dr. Jonathan Crane, you were more correct than you knew. In order to facilitate my criminal career, I taught myself how to spin at great speeds, and, as it transpired, this spinning facilitated the development of my latent metahuman abilities. As you have now experienced firsthand, I can induce vertigo in anyone within a hundred yards of me, and, perhaps more importantly, I am a telekinetic, which means that I can move things, such as syringes full of fear toxin, without needing to wrestle them out of the hands of people who wish to stab me with them.” The glow from the Top’s eyes intensified, and the table at which Dr. Crane had been working seemed to flip over of its own accord. The glass tubes and beakers shattered, spilling the various chemicals all over the barn floor, while the bunsen burner landed in a pile of hay, which promptly ignited.

“What have you done, you idiot? You’ll kill us both!” Dr. Crane shrieked. All of his hard work was going up in flames, and if he didn’t get out of the barn quickly, it was highly probable that his extremely flammable Scarecrow costume would catch on fire—with him inside of it.

“Afraid of a little fire, Scarecrow?”

“Fear is the body’s alarm system. Only a fool would ignore it in the face of a fire that has ignited in a barn full of hay!” Dr. Crane tried to get to his feet and make a run for it, but he was knocked back to the ground by another intense wave of vertigo as the table was set ablaze and the barn began to fill with smoke.

“Caw! Caw! Caw!” Craw, panicked by the flames, intelligently flew out of the still-open barn door to escape the danger. As he disappeared, the flames spread to Dr. Crane’s bookcase and began to consume his precious books, and, even worse, his invaluable research. Dr. Crane let out a cry of dismay. Years and years of research on fear, all destroyed!

“Is that everything?” the Top asked. He seemed utterly unconcerned about the raging fires surrounding both of them, and Dr. Crane started to wonder if perhaps he was in the grip of some mood-episode induced psychosis. What else could explain his seeming lack of concern about being burned to death in an inferno?

“Why are you still here? Even if you want me to burn alive for your revenge, if you stay in this barn, you will die as well!”

“A minor setback, at the most. I have already died three times, Dr. Jonathan Crane, and each time, I came back. If I die here, I will be back in a new body in a week. I doubt that you, however, will be lucky enough to share the same talent.” The unearthly green glow from the Top’s eyes intensified yet again, and Dr. Crane—-the Scarecrow—felt himself in the grip of true, petrifying terror for the first time in years. Fear, properly wielded, could conquer any man, but what effect could it have on the undead?

“You….you’re a ghost?”

“I prefer the term “entity beyond the normal range of consciousness”, Dr. Jonathan Crane. I am only truly a “ghost” when I am not in possession of a body—but yes, I do have the ability to survive without a corporeal form, without moving on to the afterlife. Now, tell me. Is this everything? Has all your toxin and all of your research been destroyed?”

“W-why should I tell you that?”

“Because if you do not, you will burn alive.” Dr. Crane weighed his odds, and decided that, as much as he valued his pride, he valued being alive to potentially begin his research anew a lot more.

“Yes, all of my work has been destroyed in the flames,” he said flatly before breaking out into a coughing fit as the smoke continued to fill his lungs.

“And you don’t have any of it stored in another location?”

“No. I always keep all of my research with me. It’s too important to lose. Now let me out of this barn before we both burn alive!” The Top laughed, and for a horrible moment Dr. Crane was sure that the horrible specter really was going to burn them both to death, but then there was a rush of light, and he found himself standing about two hundred yards away from the old barn, which was alight with flames. His relief was short-lived, however, as he quickly realized that the ghost who had destroyed years’ worth of research and months’ worth of chemistry was still standing next to him. He startled and quickly backed away, all his effort focused on not screaming. He was the Master of Fear. He did not—could not—scream.

“Caw! Caw!” Craw flew down from a nearby tree and perched on Dr. Crane’s shoulder, and he had to admit that he had never been more grateful for the bird’s company than he was right now.

“You know, Dr. Jonathan Crane, I thought about killing you for what you did to me. But then I realized that it would be more poetic to pay you back exactly in kind.You made me hallucinate that I had lost my life’s work, so I forced you to watch as your life’s work went up in flames. You made me fear that I was dying, so I made you fear that you were going to die. You made me feel small and afraid, so I did the same to you. You haunted my nightmares, and now I am going to haunt yours. What better revenge could there be, than knowing I terrify the Scarecrow, the so-called Master of Fear?” Frightened though he was, Dr. Crane wasn’t going to stand for this. No one destroyed his research and threatened his title and lived to tell the tale with their mind intact.

“Do you not realize that you have given me ample motivation to make your life a nightmare of proportions you cannot even imagine?” Roscoe just laughed.

“Your fear toxin only works on beings bound to a corporeal form, Dr. Jonathan Crane. While it would be something of an inconvenience, I could always vacate my host body should you inject me with a brain-damaging amount of your fear toxin, and then return to life upon finding another suitable body. And after that, I would unleash upon you something far worse than being burned alive.” A pit of dread formed in Dr. Crane’s stomach. Fear toxin was hardly the only tool in the Scarecrow’s arsenal, but even his unparalleled ability to uncover the psychological weaknesses of others and talk them into committing suicide or getting themselves killed through recklessness would be of no particular threat to a phantom.

“What could be worse than being burned alive after having all my research destroyed?”

“Simple. If you ever attempt to harm me again, I will unleash my girlfriend upon you. Believe me, the Golden Glider is far less merciful than I am.” Dr. Crane didn’t shudder, but it was a close thing.

“So, you’ve gotten your revenge, and ruined years of invaluable research into the study of fear in the process. I think it’s fair that you answer at least one question from me. Why did you wait so long to come for me? Why only attack me now?”

“An exhibit of tops is on display at the Gotham Museum of History, including a very ancient top that I decided that I needed for my own collection. I came here to steal it, and, since I was in the area, I decided to settle some old scores. Besides, I must say that the timing of it all seemed rather appropriate, given my nature as a ghost and your fascination with horror. When better than All Hallows’ Eve for a ghost to attack a living scarecrow?”

“You—you—-I—”

“Happy Halloween, Scarecrow."

#flash rogues #flash comics #batman comics #roscoe dillon #the top #the scarecrow #jonathan crane #fictober23 #fanfic

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thecreaturecodex · 2 years

Text

Striggore

[Commissioned by Soluman Blevins. From the 3pp book Tales of Terror: Dark Menagerie. As I mentioned in the previous entry for the scopitera, I hate the misogynistic tropes that are incorporated into the Striggore. The look is cool, but that giant gaping maw is explicitly a vagina in the original, leading to a pocket dimension called the Unwomb, and she has various menstrual blood-based attacks. My goal here, therefore, was to capture some of the mechanics of the original while simultaneously making Striggore less intensely sexist. I also, rarely for me, delved into the mythic rules for this in order to keep the original CR but at least explore and expand on why people might actually worship the Tiller of Flesh.]

Striggore CR 18 LE Aberration This ghastly giant is humanoid, but appears to have been torn open. From its ribs to its hips is a bleeding gash, from which arms probe and caress and jagged bones protrude like fangs. Its actual arms and legs are long and thin, its head and shoulders are a tangled mass of branches and moss forming a crown of horns, and an incongruously calm mask serves it as a face.

The Striggore, the Tiller of Flesh, was originally an attempt by the Eldest to create a new variety of Tane, but the creature proved impossible to control and was imprisoned in the First World. She was released by a coven of powerful hags, who were not powerful enough and were rapidly devoured by the Striggore. The Striggore’s mind burned with desire for expansion and conquest, and she set herself up as a living goddess, a figure of fertility who would intercede directly in the lives of her followers. Those who worship the Striggore are rewarded with ample crop growth and protection from other monstrous creatures, but must sacrifice humanoids to her on a regular basis in order to maintain these blessings. Natural cycles of growth, birth and death become warped in her presence. Some creatures are born fiendish, whereas others are simply deformed, and monstrous plants spontaneously grow from normal seeds in forests where the Tiller of Flesh walks.

The Striggore’s goal in combat is to consume, adding the life force of her enemies to her own. Her very presence is awe-inspiring, and those that succumb to her frightful presence are struck mute, either in respect or horror. She uses her stunning glare to cause prey to drop their weapons and lose actions, then grabs them and shoves them into the gaping orifice that splits her from chest to pelvis. This mouth leads not to a normal digestive system, but to the Craw, a pocket dimension from which most victims never escape. Some undead remnants of the Tiller of Flesh’s prey may survive in the Craw, adding a new element of danger to those swallowed.

The Tiller of Flesh never speaks, in fact cannot speak, but understands all languages and can communicate telepathically. The scopitera, mutant parasitoid butterflies, are her spies, and she can see through their eyes from afar. The Striggore’s realm is currently an enormous conifer forest, with communities of worshipers scattered within it and at its boundaries. Her goal is to spread her cult, and ultimately to achieve true divinity. One tactic she is considering is reproduction; there is only one of the Striggore for now, but she is attempting to find a ritual that will allow her to spawn more of herself.

The Striggore stands twenty feet tall. She is immortal until slain, and some of her cults have persisted for centuries.

Striggore CR18/MR7 XP 153,600 LE Huge aberration Init +17 (M); Senses darkvision 60 ft., lifesense 60 ft., Perception +23 Aura frightful presence (100 ft., Will DC 26) Defense AC 33, touch 20, flat-footed 26 (-2 size, +6 Dex, +1 dodge, +13 natural, +5 sacred) hp 306 (20d8+160 plus 56) Fort +19, Ref +17, Will +22 DR 15/cold iron and epic; Immune acid, disease, exhaustion, fatigue, mind-influencing abilities, paralysis, poison; SR 33 Defensive Abilities font of life, freedom of movement, natural blessing Offense Speed 80 ft. Melee 2 slams +22 (2d10+9/19-20 plus grab), gore +22 (3d8+9) Space 15 ft. Reach 15 ft. Special Attacks breath weapon (60 ft. cone, Ref DC 28, 20d6 acid, 1d4 rounds), mythic magic, mythic power (7/day, 1d10), rake (bite +22, 4d6+9), silencing presence, stunning glare, swallow whole (special) Spell-like Abilities CL 18th, concentration +24 (+28 casting defensively) Constant—freedom of movement, tongues At will—arboreal hammer (M), command plants (DC 20), detect magic, dimension door (D), greater command (DC 21), plant growth 3/day—control plants (DC 24), quickened cure critical wounds (DC 20) (M), finger of death (DC 23) (M), greater dispel magic, harm (DC 22) (M), heal (DC 22) (M), quickened terrible remorse (DC 20), wall of thorns (M) 1/day—antipathy (DC 24), horrid wilting (DC 24), sympathy (DC 24), unholy aura (DC 24) (M) = can be used in conjunction with mythic magic Statistics Str 28, Dex 22, Con 26, Int 21, Wis 21, Cha 23 Base Atk +15; CMB +26 (+30 when grappling); CMD 31 Feats Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Dodge (M), Improved Critical (slam), Improved Initiative (M), Quicken SLA (cure critical wounds, terrible remorse), Power Attack (M), Vital Strike (M) Skills Bluff +19, Climb +15, Knowledge (arcana, dungeoneering, geography, planes, religion) +18, Knowledge (nature) +21, Perception +23, Sense Motive +20, Spellcraft +21, Stealth +35, Survival +21, Swim +15, Use Magic Device +18; Racial Modifiers +20 Stealth Languages tongues, telepathy 500 ft. SQ divine source, planar acclimation, quiescent, shudderspy Ecology Environment cold and temperate forests Organization unique Treasure triple standard Special Abilities Breath Weapon (Su) A creature that takes acid damage from the Striggore’s breath weapon must succeed a DC 28 Fortitude save or take half that damage again on the beginning of its next turn. The save DC is Constitution based. Divine Source (Ex) The Striggore can grant up to 7th level cleric spells when worshipped as a deity. Her domains are Evil, Law and Plant, her subdomains are Growth and Tyranny, and her favored weapon is the greatclub. Font of Life (Ex) The Striggore heals from both positive and negative energy effects. Mythic Magic (Sp) The Striggore may spend a point of mythic power to use one of her spell-like abilities as if it were the mythic version of that spell. Natural Blessing (Su) When outside in a natural environment, the Striggore gains a sacred bonus to her AC and saving throws equal to her Wisdom modifier. Planar Acclimation (Ex) The Striggore never gains the extraplanar subtype, no matter what plane she is on. Quiescent (Su) The Striggore is supernaturally stealthy. She does not make any noise unless she chooses to, and can make Stealth checks to hide from blindsense or blindsight. She can still be detected normally with lifesense or thoughtsense. This grants her a +20 racial bonus to Stealth checks. Silencing Presence (Ex) A creature that fails its save against the Striggore’s frightful presence cannot speak for as long as the fear effect lasts. Shudderspy (Su) By concentrating, the Striggore can see through the eyes of any scopitera within 1 mile. While doing so, she uses the scopitera’s sensory abilities, but can make Perception checks with her own modifiers. The Striggore is treated as being blind when concentrating in this manner, unless she can see herself through that scopitera’s eyes. Stunning Glare (Su) As a swift action, the Striggore can cast her glance at a creature within 30 feet. If that creature fails a DC 26 Will save, it is stunned for 1 round. This is treated as a gaze attack for the purposes of avoiding the effect. The save DC is Charisma based. Swallow Whole (Su) Creatures swallowed by the Striggore are transported to the Craw, a demiplane in the form of a fleshy hollow cube 40 feet across. Creatures in the Craw are not considered grappled or pinned, but take 10d6 points of negative energy damage each round (Fort DC 28 negates). The save DC is Constitution based. If a creature dies from negative energy damage in the Craw, the Striggore heals 10d6 points of damage. A creature can cut its way out of the Striggore’s Craw by attacking its walls; they have an AC of 23, 30 hit points, and the same damage reduction, immunities and spell resistance as the Striggore. A creature that deals 30 points of damage to the Craw is ejected in an adjacent space to the Striggore, but the Striggore is unharmed.

#striggore #commissions #pathfinder 1e #body horror tw #misogyny #demigod

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