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bits-and-babs · 1 year

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Your fics are amazing! Would you ever write about König?

𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐃 — 𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆

synopsis : rumours of an elite soldier have the base reeling. murmurings of 'monster' and 'freak'. what happens when you come face to face with the beast, only to find he's nothing like the whispers cautioned?

pairing : könig x f!reader

warnings : 18+ mdni. war, violence, graphic gory imagery, self-conscious könig baby, little bit of hand kink, basic bitch smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, size kink, tight fit, sugar-sweet teeth rotting smut. this feels so basic… but I was struggling. please note, kilgore is a name previously linked to könig. I have used it as a codename 🙂

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Warfare training preps for the inevitable—those moments you need to fire a weapon and how to camouflage and navigate enemy territory without detection. These inescapable horrors are 'another day in the office' by the time you enter the field, the prickling chill of fear driven out of your system. Whistling RPGs are not dissimilar to the scream of your Drill Sergeant's commands, the cold, hard ground of a dilapidated building no more uncomfortable than the standard-issue barracks mattress you would ease your wearing bones into after training.

Fear, beaten out of each man and woman that slipped on the uniform, held no commonplace in the military. Weapons, the call to war, brutality and sirens did little to raise the blood pressure.

Whispers held far more weight and struck unease into the hearts of even the most desensitised of fighters.

It was inarguable that each military in every country, at any time, had its own 'boogeyman'. Notorious fighters with absurdly large kill counts consisting of three digits that inevitably earned a bounty for their head, funded by the enemy—elite warriors who acquired a legendary reputation that ultimately became horror stories. The Ghost of Kyiv, The American Sniper Chris Kyle. These military cryptids kept their enemies awake at night, baying for blood and begging for the piles of bodies they left behind to stop growing.

After years in the SAS, you were beginning to think that there was no such thing. Each soldier was prolific, brutally efficient and inarguably the best of the elite forces. It was only upon entering Task Force 141, a genuinely mean feat, that you began to hear the unshunnable, hushed whispers of Kilgore.

“Did you hear about Berlin?”

“Kilgore? Yeah, heard he blew away a whole Al-Qatala cell.”

“Twelve of ‘em. The hostages were traumatised.”

These mumblings had persisted for months, consistently updated with crazy tales of whole garrisons blown to smitheries by this massacre-happy hulking mass of pure military precision. You, like the rest of 141, elected to ignore the gossip. This was a battlefield, filled with elite soldiers, not a school playground.

✰

Austrian mud splatters your camo-clad shins as you sprint through the forest terrain, your heart lurching in your chest as your rain-soaked fingers almost fumble your gun to the sodden ground. It’s freezing cold, the gush of rain edging on a flurry of sleet as lightning cracks above your head. Clothes soaked through, the moisture and icy wind form something of a ‘Pact of Steel’, working together to deep freeze the marrow of your bones.

As you slip in the mud again, heel skidding across the slick soil, you realise how dire the situation truly is. Separated from 141 during the firefight, you’d navigated north. You continued running for the safe house once discovering your coms had been dispatched by a stray bullet— that certainly would have ripped through your heart and dispatched you instantly if not for the layers of plastic settled over it.

Thunder rumbles in the clouds above, the boom reminiscent of a distant air strike. Slurried earth gives way beneath your feet as you push on. Exhaustion gnaws at your joints as you scramble for safety, bested only by the adrenaline that buzzed in your ear like a vicious drill sergeant. “Move it! Do you wanna die?! Well fucking move!”

You can hear their boots in the mud, the advancing Al-Qatala mercenaries chasing after you and shooting blindly at your heels, competing with the distance and dense foliage. You’re like an injured fox, feverish bloodhounds nipping at the end of your tail— what could they do with an SAS hostage? How much leverage would it buy?

Bullets whistle by your feet, the proximity of some enough to set your hair on end. They’re closing in, jowls dripping with slobber as they attempt to close their teeth around you. Just a little mor—

Crack.

Chaos erupts behind you, the thump of a body and a flurry of shouts. Panicked voices overlay each other in different languages, Urzik and Persian. You scramble for cover behind a treetrunk, the bark cutting at your palms as you brace for incoming fire.

"Kilgore!" Someone shouts, and your blood runs cold, eyes wide as they dart around the foliage for the legendary soldier. The whizzing of high-powered bullets persists, dropping Al-Qatala mercenaries into the mud beneath them. You hear the yelled orders, Urzik fighters urged to retreat.

You're unsure if one fails to hear the directive over the din of warfare, but you hear the advancing feet of the mercenary advancing on your position—the squelch of the mud beneath the rubber sole of his combat boots. You scramble with your weapon, checking the gun's safety and readying for a one-shot shoot-out.

When a bullet shreds through a victim's head, the sound is reminiscent of a watermelon being cracked open. It's a sickening crunch. A wet spray of warm blood cuts through the downpour of rain, splattering across your face. Some of it is solid, brain matter and shards of cranium.

It's not silent by any means. The rain continues to beat against the floor, pattering in the puddles that had formed in sole-shaped prints in the soaked earth. Cracks of thunder sound in the distance, and the droplets drum against the leaves in the forest's canopy. However, the sounds of the firefight cease.

"You can come out," a voice calls to you. Accented; Germanic. You hesitate for a moment, once again strengthening your grip on the gun you'd clung to. Your lungs strain with the sudden intake of breath, ribs crushed beneath your tac-vest. "Ghost sent me."

Easing your head out from behind the tree trunk, you marvel, somewhat horrified, at the gigantic, hulking build of the man who stood in the clearing. Fallen enemy combatants surround him, a blanket of corpses draped across the turbid forest floor. A black veil covers his face, and his equipment litters his tac-vest.

You'd be lying if you said you were unperturbed by the sight. Instead, fear lurches in the pit of your stomach, and you freeze in place. It's only when your eyes catch the crystal white slicing through crimson on the patch sewn into his shoulder that the airy voice, which certainly doesn't match his enormous frame, brings you a sense of safety.

"The safe house is ahead. We could get you warm–– clean you up?"

✰

Staring into the bubbling pan of water settled over the small fire, you relish in the warmth that creeps across your chilled body. Still, you're soaked, the damp clinging to the threads of your clothes. The scent of iron still assaults your nose, the water that you pick off the fire cautiously heated enough to scrub the blood from your face.

Kilgore, who informed you upon entering the safehouse preferred to be called by his name König, had seated himself in the corner of the large, relatively empty room. He looked ridiculous like this, attempting to compact his body into the crevice. You don't doubt it's an attempt to ease the nervous energy bleeding through your pores, your hands trembling as you attempt to dip the rag he had gifted you into the hot water.

"Did..." You swallow thickly, glancing up at the Austrian, "Did you tell the Lieutenant where we are?"

"Mhm-hm," he nods slowly, his jade eyes watching you from beneath the face veil. They're sharp and bright, contrasting so strongly against his uniform's muted and inky shades. "He's planning evac."

You scrub the gore from your face, wincing as you feel the shards of bone scrape across your face. König's eyes bore into you from the other side of the room, watching you struggle to remove what was left of the grime the rain had failed to wash away.

"I've-... Heard a lot about you," you speak to him, attempting to cross the vast space he had consciously put between you. His green eyes gaze at you, unblinking as he watches your expression. König is trying to read you, trying to comprehend how you feel. He's cautious, trying not to push you outside of your comfort zone.

"About Berlin?" He asks, and his voice is so soft that it reminds you of a child attempting to speak after being reprimanded by their parents–– wary of a second bout of raised voices.

"Yes," you mumble, dipping the crimson rag into the water before laying it across your skin again, "About Berlin."

König hums softly, casting his eyes to the aged, wooden floorboards. The woodlice have chewed through them, moss growing in some parts. You can see he appears uncomfortable, his knuckles white from the fists that form in his lap.

"I didn't mean to scare anyone," König admits in a whisper, catching you off guard. His shoulders sag slightly, and you see him pick at loose threads in the knees of his camo trousers.

"N-No... I meant to say how courageous it was," you point out, watching his fidgeting hands still suddenly, "You risked your life for those hostages... saved them singlehandedly. No one else would have done that."

Hesitant silence settles between you both, König considering your words carefully as he stares at his lap. You can't see his face, the veil concealing all but his eyes, though you're almost sure he's stunned by your comment. It takes him a moment to discern his next step, but he finally lifts his body from the wooden chair he'd pulled into the corner. It creaks with the shift in weight distribution, floorboards straining as he walks across the space towards you.

"You also saved me," you point out, watching him kneel before you, "Faced a whole cell..."

König steals your words from your mouth when his huge hand settles around the bloodied rag in your palm. He doesn't speak at; first, silence hanging between you once again as he dips the cloth into the water. Then, he soaks it until it drips, droplets pinging off the surface, and wrings it out. His dorsal muscles ripple beneath the backs of his palm, veins a ballpoint colour and standing out against his pale skin.

"Ghost asked me to," he mumbles, carefully holding the damp fabric and slowly reaching for your face. He gives you time to pull away–– you don't.

"You could have ignored him," you whisper, suddenly breathless with this proximity. He still towers over you, even balanced on his knees, head and shoulders slumped over you. You can see the ocean green of his eyes clearly, the halo of brown flecks that cover the circumference of his pupil. His eyelashes flutter when he blinks, so pretty and oddly feminine.

The pressure of the cloth against your skull is so delicate. König appears to be afraid of hurting you, gently brushing away the flecks of blood in your hairline. He shakes his head gently, considering your kind words. "What kind of man would I be, Leibchen?" his voice is airy, tone flimsy.

Those stunning eyes take a moment to gaze into yours, searching for your answer. Instead, all you manage is a weak shrug.

"Were... Are they afraid of you?" You whisper to him, struggling to find the words to broach a topic that appears to affect König so profoundly. It's his turn to answer wordlessly, offering an equally frail nod.

König takes your chin ever so gently in his hand, his palm almost eclipsing the lower half of your face, and turns your head in search of further blood-spatter. He sweeps the makeshift face-cloth over your skin, focusing on removing the grime altogether.

You'd heard the cruel rumours, the whispers of 'monster' and 'freak'. This König you'd met couldn't possibly be the same they uttered about maliciously. He held a child-like kindness, the brutality of the job seemingly doing little to chip away at his humanity. The same couldn't be said about the others.

"König," you whisper his name softly, watching as he continues to focus on clearing up your skin. His soothing touch smoothes across your temple now, removing some mud speckles. "Don't listen to them."

You can see his eyes soften, once again turning to yours as you reach to fiddle with the edge of his veil. Upon tracing the border between the pads of your thumb and forefinger, you find that it's t-shirt material, the zigzag seam stitching rough against your touch like barbed wire. "They haven't seen you like I have."

Those eyes gleam with amusement, little crows-feet creases forming in the corners. He's smiling, and your heart stutters against your chest.

"That right, Leibchen? I've had a mask on this whole time."

The gentle teasing lilt to his tone makes you lightheaded, urging you forward with your frankly ridiculous plan. You begin to lift the edge of his veil upwards. You take it slowly, his pupils dancing across the bare skin of your face as you reveal the point of his chin. His skin is equally as pale there, barely exposed to sunlight.

König doesn't stop you as you continue to lift the fabric from his face, exposing the curve of his lower lip. The skin there is soft and plush, little creases in the flesh making your heart thud awkwardly against your ribs. Finally, you stop at his cupid's bow, so soft and subtle it's barely there at all.

You can feel his gaze warming your skin as you trace his lips with your eyes. Hesitation holds you still, uncertain about the final step of this stupid plan. König, as ever, doesn't push you. Doesn't even breathe. When you lean forward, the tip of your nose brushing his own that still lay beneath the cloth, you hear a sharp yet gentle inhalation. It triggers goosebumps across your forearms, butterflies battering the pit of your stomach.

Soft. His lips are so soft when you mould your own to their shape. König's veil tickles the skin of your face when you kiss him, and you feel his gigantic hands settle on either side of your neck as he begins to return your affections. They swallow you, and your pulse leaps against his palm.

König smiles, and the kiss turns toothy and a little lopsided. You can't help but giggle nervously, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw as he presses gentle pecks to the edge of your mouth. Despite his massive, intimidating frame, each action is deliberate and soft.

"... Are your clothes still wet, Schatz?" He's breathless despite his seemingly put-together appearance, his nose bumping yours as he interrupts your answer for another fragile kiss. "We could get you out of them."

✰

Your standard-issue military t-shirt slips and falls from the cot's mattress as König gently pulls your hips towards the edge. His fingerprints have already bruised into your thighs despite his attempts to be gentle. When he'd begun to panic, you told him not to worry–– he'd already bruised up your neck with his teeth and lips; what was a couple more?

Butterflying your legs out for him, König groans softly as you expose your glistening cunt for him. You're shy, covering your face with your hands as his fingers massage the soft, malleable flesh of the inside of your thighs.

"Schatz," he whispers, and you peer through the gaps of your fingers. König gazes down between your legs, green eyes gleaming as he positions his cock between your folds. "So beautiful."

It's ridiculous, you think, staring down between your legs. König is huge in every sense, the shaft of his cock thick and veiny and drowning out the seam of your sex as König shifts his hips forward to swipe the length of him across your weeping cunt. You can't help your mind running away with itself–– surely he needed a weapons license to carry that thing-?

A weak chuckle sounds above you, and you crane your neck to catch his eye. "I will take it slow, Schatz, I promise you."

You believe him. He had been so delicate with you this whole time, laying you down gently on the bed, careful when removing your gear and your clothes not to let the material snag on your nose or chin.

König's hand disappears beneath the face veil, spitting into his palm before he smoothes it over the head of his cock. He groans, eyelids fluttering beneath the mask as he drags his hand over the length. It's a pretty sight, you think, such a colossal man shuddering in bliss. When he sweeps his cock through your folds again, he carefully taps the tip of his dick against your clit to illicit a whimper.

"Mhmm, gentle. I promise you," he repeats, inching the tip of his cock down until it settles at your entrance. The soles of your feet find purchase on König's hips, and he massages your calves gently as he begins to inch into you at your nod of approval.

Oh, Christ.

König stretches you the moment he sinks inside. There's a delicious burn, one that has you lifting your hips with a whimper as you equally try to escape and dive into it. He's wheezing, eyes glued to where your bodies meet as he watches you flutter around his size.

"Ha-So tight, Schatz," he groans loudly, stopping when you firmly grip the bedsheets. He notes your expression of slight pain, the tears welling in your eyes as your body attempts to accommodate the intrusion. König seemingly can't help the flurry of apologies that fall from his mouth as he leans over you, settling his thumb against your clit in an attempt to ease you open. "Here. I want you to feel good, Engel."

The tremors in your thighs rattle against his hips as he circles your clit slowly. It's blissful, the sticky, warm arousal that blooms through your abdomen as he teases at the sensitive nerves. You arch your back against the mattress, moaning out his name breathlessly as he continues to inch his cock further into you. You barely notice when he finally settles the rest of him inside, wailing softly when it twitches and knocks something earthshattering inside you.

"O-Oh fuck––" you choke on your curse when König shifts his hips forward, jutting into your cervix and winding you suddenly. You probably look ridiculous, eyes rolling back into your skull as you claw at the vast expanse of his chest. You drag pink lines down the pale skin, drawing blood to the surface, but it does little to phase König this far along.

"Good, Liebling?" He murmurs, continuing to assault your clit. You can barely form a coherent sentence in response, drooling around a string of 'yes, yes, yes'. It's all he needs to find comfort in advancing, easing the length of him out of your weeping cunt before driving it back in at an achingly slow pace.

You want to slam your fist against his pectorals and insist he go faster, but you're not sure you're ready for it when he slides into you balls deep. It's as though he's settling among your lungs, filling you so good that you're seeing static in your line of vision.

The sound of a desperate groan from above barely brings you back down to earth, noting how he's staring at your face. His pupils are blown wide, almost devouring the green of his irises. It takes you a moment to realise you're drooling, his slow and steady pace already pushing you to a mindless edge.

"Oh-" you moan, digging your nails into his abs. They ripple beneath your touch with each deliberate thrust, and König hisses at the sharp sting and the crescent moon indents they leave behind. "F-Fuck, König- Too much-!"

"It's too much?" He wheezes, eyes searching your face. You desperately shake your head, terrified he'll pull away from you despite the inching arousal building at the base of your spine. Wrapping your legs around his hips, your heels press into the small of his back and hook him in place despite your protests.

It sparks something feral in the hulking man, his hips surging forwards and jolting you up the mattress. Your breath escapes you in a squeak, arousal soaring and buzzing thickly in your abdomen as König mumbles in German, his soft voice coming out all gritty under the strain of his exertions and bliss.

"Mhmmm- fuck-" you babble, eyes rolling again as you lift your hips to meet his. He sinks impossibly deeper, and your breath stutters as you feel the telltale tug of your orgasm. "Oh God- König, I'm-"

"Tell me," König whispers, rutting up inside you. He doesn't bother to inch out of you now, repeatedly battering so deep inside you that you struggle to inhale as your orgasm approaches fast.

"Hngngg- hah-ah- I'mgonna- c-cum-" you choke with each sudden thrust, his thumb quickening its pace against your arcing clit. Perhaps he shifts his hips slightly or reaches even deeper than before, but he brushes against something utterly debilitating, and you cum with a loud shriek of his name.

It bursts through you with blistering heat, your fingernails sinking deep into the curves of his bicep as you brace against the waves of bliss that crash over you. König keeps fucking into you, your walls squeezing tight around him as his thumb persists in its assault on your throbbing clit. Tears stream down your face, and König can't hold on much longer as you strangle his cock.

"Hah-Shit-" he slurs, his voice barely reaching your ears as he buries himself as deep as you can take him. He cums with a haggard moan, body trembling as his cock spurts inside of you. There's so much of it, too, leaking out of you before he even manages to move.

Both of you take a moment, both stunned by the overwhelming ecstasy. König doesn't bother withdrawing from your heat as he slumps beside you, turning you on your side to face him. He offers no words, burying his face into the crook of your neck and holding you tightly.

Your chest heaves as you suck in oxygen, skin prickling with heat as König encases you in his massive arms. You don't need the sheets, his body-heat burning hot beside you as you press your skin to his.

No words need to be said, you think. König had offered his feelings in the form of his reverent touches and delivered his thanks for your kindness in the delicate kisses he'd pressed to your lips as he carried you into the bedroom.

As you lay in the dark, settled into König's side, you trace your fingers over the curved scars, the bulletholes that have healed over against his ribs. They rise and fall beneath your touch, lungs expanding and deflating with each breath. It's a sobering moment, the thrumming of his pulse against your palm reminding you of his humanity despite the whispers at the base that had insisted upon his bestiality.

You realise those who speak cruelly of him and ruin his self-worth don't understand their impact. To them, he's a cryptid–– his very existence called into question. They hadn't seen him with their own eyes, only heard the mind-boggling tales of his startlingly impressive missions and monstrous size.

They hadn't felt his heart, the way it fluttered against your touch when you'd offered compliments. Hadn't experienced the soft plush of his lips pressing into your own in heartbreakingly sweet kisses. He was no monster.

And when Lieutenant Riley came for you the following day, choosing to ignore the marks left on your skin and the way you hesitated before climbing into the helicopter to offer the Austrian a gentle wave and a promise that you would return, you began the mission to rewrite his story. To change hearts and minds.

It didn't take long at all.

"Did you hear about Kilgore?"

"I did! He saved a member of 141. Incredibly brave–– I heard the situation was dire."

"She spoke very highly of him. Said we could count on him."

"I certainly wouldn't mind fighting alongside someone so dependable and courageous."

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clangenrising · 1 month

Text

Month 13 - Newleaf

Russetfrond scarfed down his morning meal and went over his responsibilities in his head. Sparrowpaw and the others were due for an assessment in their hunting and survival skills that he needed to design with Goldenstar and Yarrowshade. Patrols were mostly in order except for Mystique. He still didn’t like putting her into his schedule but Goldenstar had been clear that she needed daily exercise. At least she had agreed not to send the kittypet on any kind of Border Patrol, at his request.

It took him a while to balance out the patrols to accommodate her, shuffling duties around here and there, but eventually he had a solid plan. He stood, stretched, and sighed. Deciding to get the most unpleasant task out of the way first, he turned towards the elders’ den where a sleepy Ospreymask was sitting watch. If he hurried and took Mystique out now, they would hopefully get back before the dawn patrol returned.

He stepped up to the den and flicked his ear in Ospreymask’s direction, saying, “I’ll take over.”

“Thanks,” she yawned and slinked off towards the warriors’ den.

Mystique stirred inside the den. Curled up in the back corner, she lifted her head and pursed her lips. She seemed to have been awake for some time although she still seemed tired and hollow eyed. Her thick fur was starting to tangle as her winter shed came out poorly. He wondered absently if she even knew how to properly groom herself or if she let her twolegs do everything for her.

“Hey,” she said, “What’s up?”

“We’re going out,” he said. “I want to get your exercise out of the way before it gets too late.”

“Oh, alright,” she stood, ears brushing the top of the den, and slipped up beside him with a soft jingle. He stepped out of the way and let her arch her back and stretch her legs.

“I figured we’d go to the river and you could swim for a bit or something.”

“Wait, really?” she brightened.

“Yes,” he scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Just as long as you agree to come back when I say we’re done.”

“Yeah, of course,” she nodded.

“Good.” He set off out of camp, confident that she would follow. The morning was still young. The sun had just started to banish the chill of night from the air and birds were singing to each other from the distant trees. He and Mystique walked in silence for a while, simply basking in the beauty of morning.

Mystique eventually ruined it by speaking. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” He raised his brows skeptically. Hopefully it wasn’t another rendition of her ‘why does everyone hate me’ act. He’d heard from Branchbark all about her little incident during the Gathering and he wasn’t happy about it.

“Yeah, um,” Mystique said, looking at the ground, “I’ve been thinking - About my brother and everything - and… I want to try and help you guys.”

“Pardon?” he nearly laughed.

“I want to help,” she said, a little bolder. “Scorch is right, I’ve been way too passive. I may not fully understand what’s going on yet, but clearly you cats have a lot to lose and I want to help you. I was thinking maybe I could teach some combat drills or something? Y’know, help you hold your own.”

This time Russetfrond really did laugh. “Yeah, right! We don’t need fighting tips from a kittypet.” The idea was completely absurd! Insulting, even!

Mystique frowned. “I’ll have you know, I’m better than most cats back in the city!”

“That’s not saying much,” he shook his head at the comedy of the situation.

“I’m almost as good as Razor!” she insisted. “I bet I’m better than you! Hell, I know I am.” His shoulders tightened in offense.

“Is that so?” he growled, puffing up his fur a bit.

“Yeah,” she smirked and leaned down a bit to be more evenly on his level. “Try me and see.”

“Fine,” he said, slowing to a stop. “Show me what you’ve got and I’ll see if your offer is worth anything.” They had stopped in the dip between two hills where pooling snowmelt had caused the grass to grow in thick and towering. It swayed above their heads gently, blocking out the rest of the world and nearly obscuring them from each other in its density.

Russetfrond took a defensive stance. Mystique wiggled down into a crouch, tail tip twitching with eagerness. Russetfrond could already tell that she wasn’t taking this seriously - her smile was too bright, her gaze too scattered. This would be over quickly.

She moved in, tested his guard with a few swipes, and he danced easily to the side. He swiped at her ears with claws sheathed. Mystique ducked under the blow with surprising grace for her size and slipped into the opening he had given her. Her paws wrapped around his torso and her weight carried him off his feet and into the grass.

They rolled for a beat, Russetfrond hissing and Mystique purring, and landed with him on his back looking up at her. He kicked out with his hind legs and she took the blow without a flinch, then whacked him sharply on the head causing his vision to swim. She snapped at one of his paws as he tried to swat her, twisted so the other swipe struck the back of her head, and rolled onto her side to avoid another strike of his hind paws.

He rolled with her, onto his paws, and swatted her face twice, confident that, had this been a real fight, she would have been struggling to see through the blood. Mystiquer let out a mrrp of enjoyment and lunged. Her forepaws hooked around his neck and pulled his face into her chest before he knew what was happening. He struggled in the suffocating volume of her fur, unable to stop her as she rolled and flipped him over her body onto his side. Her hindpaws slammed into him, rabbit kicking over and over into his side. He hissed furiously and tucked his head to slam it up into her chin. She reeled, let him go, and he tumbled away. If this were real, he would be bleeding profusely from his flank, but for now he was simply panting heavily, struggling for breath.

“That was-” he didn’t get to finish. Somehow she was on her paws again and barreling into him. His surprise let her take him to the ground again and she quickly pressed his face into the dirt with one paw. Tail bristling, he tried to rise but suddenly her teeth were in his scruff, causing his legs to seize instinctively. His cheeks flushed hotly at the predicament.

“Alright!” he hissed quickly, “You win!” He needed her to let him go.

“Told you I was better than you.” He could feel the shape of her grin against his fur. He forced his body to move and tried to wiggle out from under her but she shifted to put a hindpaw on his haunches, pressing him flat into the ground. His stomach fluttered, only serving to make him even more embarrassed.

“You proved your point,” he growled, “let me up.” They were both breathing hard, her fur brushing his back every time she inhaled.

“Say please,” she ordered smugly between breaths.

“No,” he growled, his skin buzzing uncomfortably with some kind of energy. He felt dizzy.

“Aww, come on,” she said, her teeth thankfully letting go of his scruff. He summoned his strength and rolled onto his back, paws ready to swipe at her if she tried anything else, but she just smiled at him and tilted her head, one paw raised as if they were playing a game. He found it hard to swallow.

“You put up a pretty good fight,” she panted, flopping down next to him.

“You too,” Russetfrond admitted begrudgingly, letting his arms go slack. The grass swayed above and around them, a world of lush green with a small glimpse of cloudless, blue sky. It muted the birdsong and the sound of the wind, leaving them alone with only their slowing breaths to listen to.

“I won!” she purred, “I’d say I was more than pretty good.” He didn’t want to say it but he was inclined to agree. Neither of them spoke again until they had mostly regained control of their breathing. Russetfrond still felt dizzy though, dizzy and warm and hungry for something he couldn’t explain.

“Wanna go again?” she whispered, like it was a secret. He knew he needed to say no. He knew that he was standing on the precipice of something very big and very exciting and very dangerous and that if he didn’t leave now he wouldn’t be able to fight the hold it had on him.

“Alright,” he breathed, the edge of a smile daring to pull at his lips. He swallowed hard again. Mystique grinned wider than he’d ever seen, looking like she was hungry too.

“Hell yeah,” she said. “Maybe you can try and pin me this time.” Russetfrond thought he would like that very much.

“Don’t go easy on me,” he said, getting back to his paws.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she chuckled, swishing her silky tail around herself as she huddled into an eager crouch.

“Good,” said Russetfrond. He jumped.

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats oc #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #clangenrising #Mystique #Russetfrond #Newleaf

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jeremys-blogs · 9 months

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A brief Avatar moment I always rather liked was Toph's off-hand mention of the "Dragon of the West" during the Fire Nation's drill attack on Ba Sing Se. Obviously, she met Iroh earlier in the show, and it's entirely possible that she pieced together who he was. In the encounter she had with Zuko along with the rest of the gang, she could sense that it was Iroh who had been struck by Azula. And since her friends had likely told her that Zuko was the son of the Fire Lord, it was only a matter of time before she put two and two together.

But aside from that, it was always interesting to me that she continued to regard him highly after such a revelation. After all, as one of the upper crust (pun intended) of Earth kingdom society, she'd have likely heard all about this man. The one Fire Nation warrior who managed the seemingly impossible task of breaching the walls of their nation's capital. Few others would have been as notorious as Iroh, yet despite this, Toph continued to think positively of him. I guess it was just a testament to how much of an insight into people's natures she had 😊

#screencap #screenshot #avatar #avatar the last airbender #atla #toph #toph beifong #iroh

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zypria · 8 months

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I'm rewarching season 2 and I can't get enough of how Azula completed everything her family couldn't do for 100 years as a side quest

her government-assigned task is to get zuko

the insane part is she pretty much got him after 5 minutes but the captain was an idiot

to not be updooded like that ever again she finds the only other 2 capable people in this nation

while acquiring the second one she just. runs into avatar. woulda got him if not for a king earthbending with his chin

then she just. decides to capture the avatar because why not. how hard can it be, it's a child and they leave trail of fur and smashed cabbages everywhere they go (zuko you idiot)

she runs into kyoshi warriors. she captures them and take their fans and facepaint (a secret thing that will be useful later and much later)

oh the avatar is going to ba sing se. you know what would be funny. if we got in by a hole in the great wall we just drilled (uncle iroh you idiot)

oh this city is kinda screwed. you know what would be funny. it we took over. with their own secret service (long feng you idiot)

she runs into katara who just info dumps how zuko is living his coffee shop au. might as well collect him, that is why she got here in the first place

oh look everyone is gathered. might as well seize the day. zuko is a hero :) and aang is dead :) and we kinda pretty much won the war (fire nation you idiots)

ALL IT TOOK WAS SOME STRATEGIC MEET-CUTES AND MAKEUP (ozai you idiot)

#atla #avatar the last airbender #azula #mai #ty lee #the only competent ones

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washipink · 9 months

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A Beginner’s Guide to Tokusatsu

Hey, I know some of you are probably wondering about all these hero shows I’m constantly posting about. Maybe you want to try watching them too, but don’t know where to start? Well, look no further. I’m here to go over some accessible, and legal, means of checking out some of my favorite things!

for the OTHER means, you’ll have to DM me or send me an ask. I’m not getting my favorite sites shut down. You know the drill.

This guide will mainly focus on the big 3 Toku franchises, Toei’s Kamen Rider and Super Sentai as well as Tsuburaya’s Ultraman.

What Is Tokusatsu?

Tokusatsu is a genre of Japanese shows and movies that literally translates to “Special Effects”. Usually using a combination of monster or hero suits, practical effects like explosions, and light CGI.

That’s a REALLY wide net, so we’re just gonna focus on 3 shows today.

Super Sentai, Kamen Rider, and Ultraman. Thanks to @urotandersentai for drawing this neat little guide to the Visual Design of each of these 3 shows.

With that out of the way, let’s look at some individual seasons of these shows. Each one has a link to where you can watch it!

Please remember that at the end of the day, the best way to pick a show to watch is “Whatever looks coolest to you”. As such, I’ve included pictures!!!

Super Sentai

You might be saying, “This looks like Power Rangers!” And you’d be right!

Super Sentai, created by Shotaro Ishinomori and produced by Toei Productions, is kinda like Power Rangers’ Dad. PR has been using suits and even fight footage from Super Sentai to tell its own stories for 30 years. All this time, though, Sentai has been creating lovable and memorable casts of colorful heroes.

Generally, Super Sentai is about a team of heroes in colorful costumes that fight monsters every week to protect people.

There’s tons of shows in this series that are available FOR FREE.

CHOUJIN SENTAI JETMAN (1991)

The Earth is under siege from the Dimensional War Party Vyram. A special squadron is selected for an experiment to turn them into Super Humans with the powers of Birds, the Birdman Squadron Jetman. Vyram interferes with the experiment and kills all but one of the Jetman recruits. Instead, civilians are transformed and tasked with defending the Earth. The surviving recruit, Ryu Tendo, must convince 4 normal people with drastically different backgrounds to fight with him.

Jetman has the typical monster of the week format for Super Sentai, but when the team isn’t battling monsters, there’s some serious drama going on. The five of them are all drastically different individuals. It can make it hard to work as a team. Especially when it comes Black Condor. Dude’s a loose canon and an absolute bastard of a man.

KYORYU SENTAI ZYURANGER (1992)

“From hundreds of millions of years ago, in the age of the dinosaurs, five warriors revive in the present time!”

When the Evil Witch Bandora awakens from her slumber, intent on terrorizing the Children of Earth, Five warriors from Dinosaur Times are unsealed to undo her schemes!

This one is where the suits for Mighty Morphin Power Rangers came from, which might tempt you to watch it first. I kinda recommend against that, though. It’s a fine show but I personally found it a bit boring. The characterization of the main cast didn’t stick out as much compared to other Sentai.

GOSEI SENTAI DAIRANGER (1993)

I haven’t seen this one, but it’s focused on martial arts and one of their mechs is a cool dragon? so uhhh? Check them out? Their theme song fucks

NINJA SENTAI KAKURANGER (1994)

Ok listen I didn’t watch this one either. HOWEVER, I know that it’s about the descendants of 5 legendary ninja who have been fighting yokai for 400 years.

CHOURIKI SENTAI OHRANGER (1995)

This is the last sentai in the “I didn’t watch it” category. uhhh, watch it if the suits look cool. Sorry.

GEKISOU SENTAI CARRANGER (1996)

Five Mechanics use the power of Car Magic to protect the earth from the Universal Reckless Driving Tribe and teach children about Traffic Safety. This one’s a tad bit goofier compared to some of the others, but it’s a good time.

Also There’s a Yoda.

DENJI SENTAI MEGARANGER (1997)

Five High School Students are friends and pals! Together they investigate the mysterious goings on of a technologically advanced evil empire. They literally surf the net in order to bring peace to their city and the world!

SEIJUU SENTAI GINGAMAN (1998)

The warriors of Ginga Forest, the Gingamen, have protected nature for 132 Generations. This series follows the 133rd Generation of Gingamen, who battle alongside Starbeasts to stop the resurrection of the Demon Beast Ditanix!

KYUKYU SENTAI GOGOFIVE (1999)

This time, the rangers are an experienced team of rescue workers given super human power! They fight back Literal Demons From Hell that endanger the public. There’s a lot of focus specifically on rescuing civilians in this one, so if you’re an especially big fan of watching heroes... SAVE people, this is a great choice.

MIRAI SENTAI TIMERANGER (2000)

In the 30th Century, a gang of super criminals escapes to the year 2000. They are tracked down by the Future Sentai Timeranger, agents of the Time Defense Force. There, they encounter the Great(s) Grandfather of their departed leader and must convince him to fight alongside them for the sake of humanity.

HYAKUJU SENTAI GAORANGER (2001)

Veterinarian Kakeru Shishi can hear the hearts of every animal! He swiftly becomes enraptured in the adventures of the Gaorangers, who battle living embodiment of pollution. Also they live on a flying turtle! How cool is that?

NINPUU SENTAI HURRICANNEGER (2002)

What if there was a polycule of ninjas SO BAD at being Ninjas, they showed up to Ninja Class Late and were the only survivors of an attack on their school? These guys are the silliest little slackers, but they’ve got hearts of gold. Check them out? For me? :)

KAMEN RIDER

If Super Sentai is Power Rangers’ Dad, Kamen Rider is Power Rangers’ Uncle.

Kamen Rider was ALSO created by Shotaro Ishinomori.

Usually focused in on a smaller cast of heroes. A common theme in Rider is that the heroes are created by their villains and choose to rebel against them for the greater good, or will use the villain’s own powers against them.

Most Riders have a signature attack where they leap into the air and do a flying kick. These get INCREDIBLY flashy over the years.

Unfortunately, there’s a lot less Kamen Rider legally available than there are of the other two shows here. Don’t fret, it’s Easy Enough To Find Anyway.

As for the shows I can link you to, there’s

KAMEN RIDER (1971)

This is the original series.

Takeshi Hongo is an augmented human being created by the evil organization Shocker. Escaping before his brainwashing can be completed, battles for humanity’s freedom as Kamen Rider.

Being such an old show, the effects can be dated and cheesy. It’s a bit of an acquired taste, but if you stick with it, I’m sure you’ll love it. You can watch most of the show in almost any order. The only really confusing part is that eventually, Hongo tags out with fellow escaped cyborg Ichimonji Hayato as Kamen Rider. (This was due to a real world injury to Hongo’s actor during filming. Don’t worry, he’s still kicking and he comes back later in the show!)

It’s also the longest Kamen Rider show, so I don’t fault you if you decide not to watch ALL of it. Even I haven’t yet.

If reading is more your thing, it’s based on a manga that you can find a DELIGHTFULLY well crafted omnibus of here

KAMEN RIDER KUUGA (2000)

Kuuga was the first season of Rider after about a 5 year break on TV. It’s something of a return to form.

It follows Yusuke Godai, a world traveler with 2000 skills, visiting his home town for the first time in years. He finds himself in the middle of an ancient civilization’s ritualistic murder game. Donning the mantle of Kuuga, Godai fights to protect the smiles of the city. He has a wonderful supporting cast around him including Detective Ichijou, who he goes on to share a rather homoerotic bond with.

Kuuga was my first Rider Series and to this day, it represents the Bread and Butter of Kamen Rider to me. This one’s a bit of a slow-paced Drama, but its focus is on what it means to help others. Every episode, I felt like I was actively being encouraged to be a better person. Godai’s got this infectious positivity that can’t help but make you grin.

KAMEN RIDER RYUKI (2002)

Ryuki takes a rather different direction from the other shows on this list. Instead of being about a single hero battling monsters, it’s about Plucky Young Journalist Shinji Kido being wrapped up in an all-out war between Kamen Riders. Donning the mask of Ryuki, he seeks to put an end to the bloodshed. The other Kamen Riders aren’t nearly as cooperative, though.

Don’t think that this plot means these characters don’t get tons of humanizing moments though. They’re all delightful to watch in action and you’ll end up truly questioning who will win? Is it possible to end the Riders’ battle? Will Shinji have to take a life after all?

I cannot recommend Ryuki enough. A lot of the Rider series from the early 2000s are Dramas that feature super heroes and Ryuki takes that drama up to a 10. (Plus, if you wanna ask where to find it, there’s plentiful side content for this show.)

KAMEN RIDER ZERO-ONE (2019)

In the far-flung year of 2019, Hiden Intelligence has revolutionized AI technology. The company manufactures Robot Assistants called Humagears. People in all walks of life and profession benefit from their aid. Unfortunately, something is causing Humagears to go berserk and attack humans.

With the death of Hiden Intelligence’s president, Failed Comedian Aruto Hiden inherits the company. He’s given the Zero-One Driver, which allows him to fight the corrupted Humagears as Kamen Rider Zero-One. With this new power in hand, Aruto seeks a way forward where Humankind and AI can exist in harmony.

Come to think of it, this one’s kinda topical. “AI” is a subject we really aren’t gonna be getting rid of any time soon. This show is one of the more recent rider productions you can find legally and it SHOWS. Every suit is sleek and clean, the visuals are striking and flashy. If nothing else, Zero-One LOOKS incredible.

KAMEN RIDER GEATS (2022)

Kamen Riders compete in a game called the Desire Grand Prix. By fighting monsters and saving people for points, the winner can have their greatest desire granted. Ukiyo Ace, the titular Kamen Rider Geats, looks to unravel the mysteries behind the Grand Prix and reunite with his long-lost mother.

Things get a bit more complicated than that, but I think you should see it for yourself. I can’t recommend Geats enough. its visual style is a direct evolution of Zero One’s sleekness and flashiness. It’s main 4 characters are some of my favorites in recent years.

SHIN KAMEN RIDER (2023) (Paid)

Takeshi Hongo is an augmented human being created by the evil organization Shocker. Escaping before his brainwashing can be completed, battles for humanity’s freedom as Kamen Rider.

Wait, that sounds really familiar. That’s because this is the latest in a series of Tokusatsu Reimaginings by Hideaki Anno and Shinji Higuchi. This is a new take on the story of Kamen Rider 1971, modernized complete with sleeker suits and stunning music all wrapped up in a 2-hour movie. It also has plenty of Easter Eggs for those of us who are fans of the 1971 series or the Manga it’s based on!

Be warned, this one’s gorier than the other stuff on the list. It’s mostly exaggerated blood splatters, though. I hate that kind of stuff and I’m able to rewatch this movie.

KAMEN RIDER AMAZONS (2016) (Paid)

Amazons is another adult reimagining of a classic Kamen Rider show, but it’s so far removed you don’t really need to know much about the original to enjoy it.

Amazons follows a group of exterminators who have been tasked with eradicating escaped cannibalistic experiments called, well, Amazons. The catch is that they work together with 2 Amazons, Momoru the Mole Amazon, and Haruka, the titular Kamen Rider Amazons. Both of them are tasked with asking themselves ethical questions. Is it so wrong for Amazons to exist? Is it possible to avoid eating people? If it isn’t, then is it WRONG to eat people to survive?

ULTRAMAN

Ok, look, I’m gonna have to make a separate post covering all the free Ultraman stuff there is. Theres SO MUCH OF IT available that I don’t know where to start. We’re about to hit the image limit. If that post is done, it will be linked HERE.

But for a basic idea, there’s tons of stuff on Tubi and the official Ultraman Youtube Channel posts new episodes of the currently airing show.

#Tokusatsu #Kamen Rider #Super Sentai #Beginners Guide #Feel Free To Reblog This #I'm gonna pin it and updating it over time

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legendofzoodles · 1 year

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The Chain as Procrastinators

Part 1

Time procrastinates without remorse or regret.

He wouldn’t do it because he’s anxious about an upcoming task or feels overwhelmed since he stopped giving a shit about one ‘song of time’ ago. No it would rather be to just annoy whoever expected him to get it done. Small tasks like chores aren’t worth being petty over, besides he’d never be a bastard to his wife and the people he cares about. However, if say Zelda asked him to do something he didn’t want to do (like rather than attack a monster camp setting up near a village it would be escorting some goods or collecting something) he’d wait until the last possible second to do it.

Malon: There’s a royal carriage pulled up outside.

Time: [getting up from the sofa] She sent a messenger this time?!

Malon: Why don’t you just get it over with? It’ll take less than a day.

Time: [grabbing a piece of paper and pencil] That’s less than a day too long.

Time: Give this to whoever comes to the door; I wouldn’t bother speaking to them.

Malon: [takes the paper slip and watches him dash into the washroom with a smile, shaking her head slightly]

I get the feeling he still does things when he feels like it, even in his 30s, and isn’t ashamed at all.

Warriors procrastinates because of sometimes feeling the need for the piece of work to be perfect and that discourages him.

He is for the most part very put together. He organises training exercises, armour and weapon maintenance and unit expeditions efficiently. That being said, they’ll be those kinds of paperwork that he can’t bring himself to do and I think it’ll be somewhat of a perfectionist thing.

Since protocol means all his reports have to have a certain amount of detail and be of high quality, especially if the General or Princess will be reading it. Perhaps things like risk assessments or particularly long and eventful expeditions that call for meticulous records put him off doing the task, and do things like take longer to run drills. And he’s the sort who’d rather take on all the work, rather than delegate it.

Impa: [knocking on the door as she enters] Are those reports finished?

Warriors: [emerging from a pile of loose papers] What are you talking about? I requested an extension.

Impa: I didn’t receive a formal request from you.

Warriors: Oh. I was busy so I left it on your desk.

Impa: You mean that unsigned sheet of paper with ‘Need more time’ scribbled on it...?

Warriors: [rubbing his eyes] Is my request denied?

Impa: No, granted. And get some sleep Link.

On the flipside, for other types of paperwork he doesn’t mind, he’ll use that duty as an excuse to not do basic chores. He can never seem to settle down for even half an hour of dusting and sweeping when there are more important things he could be doing, like training.

Twilight procrastinates if he doesn’t feel he can do the task well.

He works to help develop Hyrule with the Resistance. It’s a duty I’m sure he’s passionate about and enjoys, but there’ll be some parts about it that he’s less fond of. There are probably meetings where everyone has to share things that could be improved about Hyrule- anything from infrastructure, to transport, to the army, anything really- and how to go about doing that.

He wouldn’t be a fan of those tasks since he’s not as knowledgeable and therefore helpful as say Shad and Ashei, who know more and have more varied experiences. And anyway, why do all that sitting around and thinking when he could be out helping on the ranch or running errands around Ordon?

Since he still get mail from the postman, throughout LU he’d probably still have those duties and put it off by being extra helpful around camp or asking Warriors for one more sparring round.

~~~

Thanks for reading.

Masterlist

9th place in the LU character design ranking

Character analysis posts:

Hero of the Sky, Hero of Time, Hero of Twilight, Hero of the Wild, Hero of Warriors

Parkour team - LU drabble

How each member of the chain laughs - LU headcanon

#linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #linked universe headcanons #lu headcanons #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu malon #lu impa

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bonefall · 1 year

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Bonefall Redtail: stares in horror at cannon Redtail.

Cannon Redtail: being a cheeky shit and slides a paw over the scent marks to piss off Leopardfur.*

Both Leopardfurs: *are being held back by Both Sunfish.*

Bonefall Spottedleaf: "Oh, he's going to start a fight."

Cannon Spottedleaf: "He's always teasing, you'd think they'd be used to it."

Bonefall Redtail always ends up playing the straight-man in Bonefall Spottedleaf's antics, but if there's one thing he's good at doing, it's dealing with cheeky little shits like Canon Redtail. It's something he shares with his granddaughter, Squilf, once she grows into herself a bit!

Bonefall Redtail: "Are you a warrior or an apprentice, boy?"

Canon Redtail: "...what? How dare-"

"NOT AN ANSWER. ARE YOU A WARRIOR OR AN APPRENTICE?? BOY?"

"A warrior! You're insul-"

"I WILL INSULT YOU UNTIL YOU TAKE YOUR PAW OFF THE BORDER AND PUT IT RIGHT BACK ON THE PATH. WERE WE COMMANDED TO ENGAGE RIVERCLAN??"

"Fine, I'm-"

"NOT AN ANSWER. WERE WE COMMANDED TO ENGAGE RIVERCLAN? DO YOU UNDERSTAND YES OR NO QUESTIONS?"

"Yes! I-I mean-- No, we-"

"BLUESTAR MADE A DEPUTY OUT OF AN APPRENTICE WHO DOESN'T UNDERSTAND YES OR NO QUESTIONS?"

"No!! I-- you're confusing me--"

"GET BACK ON THE PATH BEFORE I KICK YOU BACK ON IT."

Bonefall Redtail's like a drill sergeant. This treatment doesn't work on people like Spottedleaf because she's incapable of being shouted down, and it doesn't work on people like Thistleclaw because they never listen. But good, somewhat meek warriors like Canon Redtail?

It's his natural habitat.

It's probably why he was given Dustpaw as an apprentice, waaay back in the day. Dustpaw was a young troublemaker so Redtail was tasked with giving him a sense of discipline.

#Fennelposting #I need to tag these as something

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rippleclan · 5 months

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[Image ID: Downstar and Carnationpaw face each other. The text behind them says "Caretakers"]

You know many of the traditional roles of a Clan: the leader, the deputy, the warriors, the elders, and so on. But what are caretakers? How do they fit into Clan culture? What are their responsibilities?

Long story short, caretakers are responsible for the maintenance of the Clan, the camp, and the territory. As of Moon 7 in RippleClan, Downstar and Carnationpaw are responsible for not only caretaker duties, but jobs typically fulfilled by other roles thanks to the Clan's small population. However, we're going to focus on what their jobs would be in a fully populated Clan, as organized by its three principles.

#1: The Clan

Caretakers make sure the Clan can fulfill their tasks by acting as assistants where needed. Clerics often call on them when they need extra paws in the medicine den, and mediators will call on their support when dealing with the relationships and emotional health of the Clan.

Oftentimes, caretakers will assist in caring for the kits. They allow queens to return to duty when they want to rather than waiting until their kits are apprenticed. They take care of orphaned kits, acting as guardians and taking litters under their wings. On a typical day, at least one caretaker will be assigned nursery duty and keep the kits entertained and busy. This makes the care of kits a Clan-wide duty and allows kits to bond with their Clanmates.

Caretakers are also the main guards of camp. They are responsible for guarding camp while the Clan shares tongues at sunhigh and sleeps through the night. Warriors and codekeepers can assist them, but guarding camp is largely a caretaker's responsibility. During conflict, caretakers are assigned to stay in camp to protect kits, elders, and the injured. They are considered the last line of defense and must take their job seriously. They are responsible for the Code of Graduation, where apprentices who have earned their full name must guard camp through the night to understand the importance of their new adult positions.

#2: The Camp

A Clan's camp must be consistently maintained to show respect to the Clan and all who live there. Caretakers are responsible for cleaning the camp and performing various repairs. They construct and support the outer defenses, like the brambles surrounding RippleClan. They also build dens, making sure everyone has a safe and warm place to sleep.

Caretakers share kitchen duties with the artisans, with a main focus on storing and preparing ingredients. Caretakers maintain the prey pile. They can efficiently gut and skin prey before handing the resources off to artisans. They cook meals for the Clan in conjunction with the artisans and claim responsibility for maintaining the camp's oven, smokers, and grillstones. They make sure any specialty equipment, such as WheatClan's prized oil maker, stays in shape.

Caretakers are also masters of one of the Clan's most important resources; fire. Caretakers know all the best ways to start fires and have a special spot where they store dry materials for tinder, kindling, and other fuel. Caretaker apprentices are often responsible for starting fires with paw drills (a skill Carnationpaw is quite good at).

#3: The Territory

The Clans have a minor understanding of agriculture in so much as, by collecting certain seeds and burying them at the right times, they can expect patches of herbs in later seasons. Caretakers have pots and baskets full of seeds to plant throughout the year. It is their responsibility to plant the seeds, remember where each herb grows, encourage plant growth, and harvest the herbs when the time comes.

Clerics have a lot to do without constantly leaving camp in search of herbs, so they leave those tasks to caretakers. Caretakers may not know what each herb does medicinally, but they know what to collect and how to collect it. By caring for the land, they care for their Clan.

Since they collect important herbs and ingredients for the Clan, they pride themselves on leading hunting patrols. They keep track of prey populations in the territory and make sure no one specie is overhunted. They know what prey to hunt freely and what prey must be avoided, less they all die out. They came up with the Code of Prey, making sure each small life taken is put to a greater purpose.

Caretakers occasionally join border patrols, but this can be distracting on top of their in-camp duties, so deputies tend to assign other roles to check the borders. Caretakers don't worry about affairs outside the Clan; their job is to care for everything within their borders.

#rippleclan #rippleclan clangen #clangen #warrior cats #warrior cats clangen #warriors #rippleclan lore #caretakers

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squirrelwrangler · 10 months

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The Sphinx’s Son

The sandstone lions that guarded the Great Temple had human faces that were carved to look stern and imposing, but Arus thought that the statues just looked sad. They had his mother’s face, though the masons who had carved the human-headed lions had lived more than two centuries ago. Coincidence or the timelessness of a standard of beauty, the boy could not say which. Arus traced the names of the master stonemasons where the signatures were tucked away on the back heel of the statues, hidden in their cool shadows. The ridge of stone of the carved tail made a perfect bench for him to sit.

The temple processions, carried out by fifty people of various ages, marched on in loops between the temple colonnades. Ganreh, the favorite student of the head priest, led today’s procession, sweat dripping down his shaved head and wilting the starched linen of his tabard. The clinking sistrum dictated the cadence of the march, and the pinched expression of intense concentration on Ganreh’s face to keep the metronomic chinking of rattled metal beads consistent made Arus choke back laughter. Ganreh was too kind for scolding, but Head Priestess We-se would box his ears for disrupting the ceremony. The chanting combined with the sistrum to make a pleasant if monotonous song. Arus wondered if the real purpose was to soothe the gods to sleep with such droning lullaby-like music.

The attendant priestesses carrying the smoke-filled braziers noticed where Arus sat waiting for today’s procession to finish –the second of a six-day ceremony– but as Arus was silent and sitting clear of the path and not yet necessary for any of the rituals, their side-eyes were of measured approval instead of mistrustful scorn. Arus’s siblings were too young to sit quietly through any long religious ceremony and had been left in the care of palace nannies, but he was old enough to observe ceremonies. Not join them. Yet. Maybe. Arus had yet to show definitive proof that he had inherited his mother’s gift.

Sehmket walked between an entourage of priests and priestesses, their feathered staffs and leopard robes penning her in as she performed her role. Small statues of the deities were carried before and behind her, and a cloud of incense clouded her. Inside the temple the statues were milky stone, but when the procession exited into the afternoon sun of the courtyard, sharp light reflected off of the translucent quartz of the gods and the crushed mica of the priestly face paint. Each quartz statue of a god, goddess, or divine beast was carried on a bronze platter by an attendant priest or priestess, except for one. Two strong priests carried the litter bearing the largest of the holy statues, that of the winged warrior magician goddess O-sesmiat-et. Supposedly it was a replica of the main statue at the furthest altar of the temple, the one that only Ganreh and the Head Priest and Priestesses attended. The winged goddess with her tall crown had a carved face that mimicked the faces of the stone lions but whose expression remained fathomless. Arus wondered who carved the image of the goddess, the only statue chiseled from precious blue stone instead of semi-transparent quartz. Privately he thought that the craftsman was not as skilled as Abidus or Senos-se, the names carved on the heel of the guardian lion statues. A large fan of dropping white feathers angled to further shade the pair of litter bearers of O-sesmiat-et from the sun, but the fan bearer was a short apprentice that struggled to keep the correct angle. In the morning the apprentice had no difficulty with his task, but hours later the heat was affecting him. The two stout litter bearers seemed not to mind, but surely their shoulders ached by now.

In their own way the marching priests were as impressive as the soldiers drilling in the royal barracks.

Arus waved at his mother each time that the ritual brought her to the outer temple courtyard with its stone lion guardians. A silent wave, for the boy was mindful not to interrupt the chanting prayers of the priests and priestesses. Each time a small smile graced his mother’s thin lips. She would not wave back, as that would be unbecoming of dignity and disrupt the careful folds of the heavy cloak around her body and the long train that dragged behind her, the many gemstones and painted feathers that decorated her singular regalia scooting along after each small gliding step that Sehmket took to preserve the illusion that she was gliding like a windborn barque across the giant sandstone paving stones, her feet hidden by reed-thin folds of a long linen shift. Dressing his mother in her ceremonial regalia and laundering the expensive garments required the skills of two priestesses that focused on nothing else but the special garments of the highest priesthood and Arus’s mother. That Sehmket was mindful of her duties was a great irony, for she had a pivotal role in the assassination of the previous high priest and the uncovering of the great conspiracy among the temples and the altering of religious teachings.

The long six-day ceremony was one of the results of the purging and purification of the faith, to restore old ceremonies and old rituals of performing them. How Sehmket was included in them was not an old process restored, though the chant was something transcribed off of a once-forgotten and half-buried tomb wall dating back two dynasties. The priesthood enthusiastically searched for the old methods to honor the gods, eager to reform the lies of their forebears and restore trust in the gods and their chosen representatives. Arus’s mother was the lynchpin to their efforts, however uneasy the truth of the alliance.

His mother was no prisoner, however much Arus sometimes felt that she might be, but he knew that the trust given to Sehmket was conditional. Revered asset instead of hounded traitor, but he was old enough to understand the looks that others bestowed upon his mother, from priest and noble down to the day-laborers of the city. Awe and fear, and the cautious pride that one gave to a tamed hunting cheetah.

A woman that could transform herself into a divine sphinx would always inspire fear.

The first statue in the procession was the only one carved after Arus’s birth, the newest and the only without a holy name. It was of the sphinx, winged cat with the face and chest of a woman. The rosettes of the body had been carefully chiseled, and that was how Arus knew the statue represented his mother’s divine transformation, even though the statue’s nondescript face had closed eyes and full lips. And large breasts. The old artistic representations of sphinxes on the wall reliefs of the main palace, temples, and tombs had lion bodies - all but one painting in the palace complex that dated back to the first dynasty. Prince Hama discovered the painting of the spotted sphinx and had artisans reproduce it across the kingdom. The Master of Scribes bragged that the revived old sphinx design was the most popular tapestry sold throughout the eight cities. Mehbebli was more honest with Arus, explaining that the true sphinx was seen as the most fitting burial shroud for fallen soldiers, in honor of his mother’s divine strength and her efforts to safeguard their kingdom. O-Sehmket transformed had the dappled pelt of a leopard below her waist, of fur the palest gold and darkest bronze, and her wings were the bright green of papyrus sedge. The statue did not include the horns, each as green as fresh reeds: two that curved around her ears to rest against her cheekbones like those of a ram and the four that spiraled out like the addax to give the divine beast a crown. Horns were hinted at via a single wavy shape on that old painting. The toll of his mother’s magic weighed too heavily on her health to be used in frivolous displays, but only those new to the capital or as young as Arus’s second sister had never seen the divine sphinx form of O-Sehmket. Two years ago Sehmket had transformed at the great plaza, careful to lessen the divine storm that accompanied her accession, and hovered above the palace walls, all to prove to the ambassador from Kirop that the tales of the divinity that protected the Kingdom of the Glass Mountain was no mere exaggeration.

The old priesthood had branded his mother a monstrous mockery because of the discrepancies in known form. Head Priestess We-se called it yet more proof of how deeply the priesthood had strayed from the strictures established during the reign of the first dynasty. And their foolishness: O-Sehmket guarded the subjects of Prince Hama, frightening his enemies and strengthening his rule, and brought pilgrims to the temples. Only the army loved her more, for the destruction she could wrought and the peace that she brokered with the griffins.

Arus’s mother was no prisoner, for it would be nigh on impossible to imprison a woman that could transform into a giant chimeric beast of divine powers and flight. But their rulers could not afford to lose their leash on Sehmket, too dangerous an enemy and too vital to their safety.

Magical chains were forged, invisible ones crafted by links more precious than metal: lodgings within the palace complex, amnesty for her murders, reforms among the priesthood and the ousting of corrupt ministers, new laws to protect the slaves and widows, the safe borders of the kingdom and the prosperity and happiness of the common subjects, and the preferential alliance with the griffins of the northern mountains. All to hold Sehmket here and summit to the parades around the temple colonnade and transform into the sphinx when demanded.

The strongest chain, Arus knew, was himself and his sisters.

#original fic #my fic #the sphinx's bastard son #took a break from other projects to do something very self-indulgent #this is the other HW AU transplanted to a brand new fantasy setting #early bronze age fantasy silliness instead of llamasward this time #probably only four or five parts to this the story in my head only has one meaty scene #but i like world-building and here's the excuse to dump all the lion-griffin-sphinx-harpy non-dragon magical critter fantasy flavors #wip

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dxwnfxll · 1 year

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Um, hi. I was wondering if you could write about Dr Bright with an S/O who was formerly an assassin from the GOC who was tasked with killing Bright and bringing the amulet back to the GOC but instead fell in love with Bright and he eventually learns the truth because his S/O finally told him? It's fine if you don't want to, I just thought I'd ask since you're once of the only people who still writes about him. Thanks

Sure! And if i am correct from your other question you wanted to replace the GOC as the chaos insurgency soooo i'll do that!

N/n= Nickname/codename

Dr. Shaw with an ex assassin oc

-a few years back you had once worked for the Chaos insurgency, you were once a highly skilled assassin valued by the CI (short for chaos insurgency) you were usually one of the first few candidates they chose to send on more 'dangerous' missions.

-you remember the day they called you in, you were training with a friend at one of the training rooms. A new recruit had walked in as you practiced hand to hand combat on the punching bag in front of you. They walked over to you "Agent N/N" you stopped grabbing the bag and looking at them "yeah?"

-They straightened up as they spoke "mission for you, very urgent. Said for you to head out immediately." They handed you a folder, you nodded "understood."

-the mission had been simple, kill the host of 963, carefully retrieve the amulet and get your ass back to the base.

-When you were first brought in, another CI agent had talked their way into letting you in. The man undercover as a 'Dr. Amar' had shown you the ropes and what you needed to know. This was your first time inside an actual site, usually you were always outside of it with a sniper in hand.

-now you walked around in a lab coat bearing the name 'Dr. L/n' on a badge secured on a lanyard around your neck. You looked around for the doctor pretending to simply be following Dr. Amar until there they were.

-the ginger person stood not that far from you, their current body being that of a woman. Her hair was up in a bun as he looked over something on their phone leaning against the wall.

-you went to grab the knife by your side as Dr. Amar stopped you, he whispered "not yet." And let go of your arm. You knew from that what type of mission this was going to be..a long one.

-befriending the researcher was not easy, she always seemed to be busy. Always walking away just as you said hello, at least he'd usually apologize before walking away to some important matter.

-you two finally became friends though after you caught her in the break room, it had been 2 weeks total since you had been sent here undercover. You walked into the break room hearing them hum.

-they stopped before turning around just a bit to see you "oh hey there Dr uhhh" she squinted trying to read your tag "L/n. I haven't seen you around much, you new here?"

-You nodded and told the lie that had been drilled into your head by Dr. Amar "yeah and no, i transferred here from containment site 25-B." Dr. Shaw nodded "ah, well guess it's not that much of a change for ya huh? Except no fear of an ancient warrior breaking out anytime soon huh?" She joked

-you nodded "oh yeah, now i just have to worry about an overgrown lizard wanting a midnight snack" Dr. Shaw snickered at that "at least we can control when it's let out or not"

-you two began to grow close after that, weeks slowly began to turn into months as you still remained undercover. Your bosses checking on you every couple weeks or so to see how progress was, but now that you began to think fully about it..did you really want to take 963 back?

-you felt so..at ease around him, you wanted to protect the chaotic doctor and completing this mission would lead into only betraying them.

-as your boss called you that night you made up your mind, you didn't answer. You let it ring, you knew if you just didn't pick up they'd think you were dead. That the Foundation had found you, that you were probably rotting in some cell.

-and you were right, after that night they didn't call back..ever. You were most likely dead to the CI, and from now on you were Dr. L/n Dr. Shaws..friend

-the months blended together until three years had passed, within those years so much had happended. You made more friends, got promoted, and fell for Dr. Shaw.

-she had asked you out one warm summer night, as you sat on the roof of site-19 watching the stars. For once you were able to watch them without the worry of needing to shoot someone, you heard footsteps behind you and turned your head to see the ginger.

-you smiled at them "hey Ellie" she smiled back at you sitting down "hey Y/n" they watched the stars with you "y'know..i like moments like these, we should have more of them"

-you looked at him "oh?" You had a feeling you knew what they were asking, as Elias looked at you she nodded "yeah..wanna go out?" You snickered a bit at how blunt he was with the question "yeah..i'd love to"

-that had been a year ago, life was perfect for the next year or so. You two were partners and you'd do anything for her, he was the love of your life and you felt nothing could tear you apart

-until you remembered your past, why you even came here. You wanted to continue to lie to Elias and hope it would be enough, but eventually you'd get caught..you knew you would.

-you fought with yourself until ultimately deciding what you needed to do. You called Elias to your dorm, you both would talk about this..as much as you didn't want to you needed to.

-it didn't take very long for Elias to get to your dorm, but it felt like Elias had taken hours to get there. But that was just your nerves, you were nervous..not just about being possibly killed for once being a CI assassin, but also scared to lose the person you loved.

-Elias sat on your couch next to you, you fidgeted with your hands as you just blurted it out "i was once an assassin sent to kill you and take 963, i'm so sorry i'm no longer with them i-" she cut you off "i know."

-you felt your blood run cold as you looked at them "huh.." Elias's usual goofy looking face had been replaced with a serious and even..scary face. No smile, his eyes didn't shine, and a shadow seemed to cover his face just a bit somehow

-Elias spoke "i know what you were..i figured it out after you told me you were from containment site 25-B." You cocked an eyebrow "how?" He smiled, a smile that didn't seem genuine but..dark. "Everyone there was killed in an incident involving SCP 076-2."

-you scooted away from him a bit "i'm sorry Elias..i really am i never wanted to-" he spoke again interrupting you "stop apologizing. I know you left, you've already made it up." He got up

-as he cracked his fingers he looked back at you still sitting on the couch "you're one of us now, your past doesn't matter let's just forget it." He gave you a smile before walking to the door "see you after work."

-and so he left, he left as your mind filled with more questions. You didn't know to either be at ease..or scared."

Hope you enjoyed!

Requests always open!

#scp #scp foundation #scp fandom #scp fanfiction #scp x reader #dr bright #scp dr bright x reader #scp dr bright #elias shaw #scp dr ambrose x reader #scp dr ambrose #dr ambrose

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whatudottu · 1 year

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Thinking about talpaedans again, how I’ve gone ahead and given them (among direct inspiration from armadillos) that alien element in ant genes, and how in the blazes Andreas survived getting crushed by a castle-

As stated previously, I gave talpaedans that ant-based edge because of the desire to have a whole construction/deconstruction site within one ‘family’, or to the extent of ant biology plus civil engineer lingo, a ‘colony’ or ‘union’ which would include smaller groups more akin to family even if most anyone in any given city is related to their ‘queen’ (haplodiplody is an interesting beast). And ant gender doesn’t directly translate to ant sex because of some sleeper genes that, when activated in a certain species series of events, give an ant on the individual level a specialisation. Some specialisations are general but some are sex locked, and in talpaedans I’ve been thinking of making that split between construction and deconstruction.

This would mean that Andreas specifically would have a gendered specialisation, jackhammers so to say, and so indeed lives up to that by being a being in castle crashing. An example of a gendered counterpart would be a set of cement mixers, except with a little more techno organic ingredients, which can in a carbon-based lifeform be a self-produced tar (since tar is made from wood, coal, bones and other organic substances, a few ingredients here and there plus canonically black blood, you get fucked up ant biology just like the ants that explode themselves) and kinda serve to glue stuff together if sealing the cracks isn’t enough. A gender neutral specialisation would be a ‘used everywhere’ adaptation like forklift or scaffolding tools which kinda translate to ‘has big claws’ on one end or ‘has long hammed’ on the other.

And these are just only a few examples, this does not even include drills (it was Omniverse to make Armodrillo a jackhammer and drill), bolt guns and more.

Okay but why am I - a gender apathetic lad - trying to make the talpaedan equivalent for male a deconstruction tool and the talpaedan equivalent for female a construction tool? Well because I recently learnt about specific techniques of home defence that certain colonies of ants perform!

Inspired by the ants that collapse the entrance to the colony (and causing casualties in the process), wouldn’t it make sense for the male-ish deconstruction equipment to stay and turn a little corner retreat into a full on bubble of air in a sea of dirt, entirely defensible and difficult to get in (thanks to the rubble of actual genuine architecture because if you’ve got a whole city of civil engineers you’ve got a whole lot of actual underground city planning). For the predominately female-ish warrior force (especially my wonderful passing mention of a ‘bolt gun’ specialisation), the backlines and really the only thing for a colony deems worthy of fighting for - the literal fucking colony - and collapsing tunnels, trapping choke points and being 100% certain that any young, elder or otherwise non-combatant is kept safe between layers and layers of controlled rubble.

And so with this I bring to you, how did Andreas survive a castle collapse? That’s because no matter how good someone is at sealing off tunnels, the actual destruction of the passage isn’t entirely controlled and can indeed BACKFIRE to those unprepared or unused to the responsibility. Regardless of Andreas’ own experience with tunnel closing (a precaution done during wartimes which, given that [my headcanon] Andreas was in one of the first few generations of peacetimes, is not as necessary a task to do so much as just keep in mind), there’s a reason why talpaedans are so heavily armoured. Being buried in rubble is no easy thing - hurts like a bitch - but with the collapsing of tunnels being a rather purposeful if still variable defence, having crush resistance helps keep more folk alive. And I suppose, the best way to survive being buried would be to have collapsible armour oneself, the metal having room to cave and potentially have internal cushioning (such as techno-organic fur) just to prevent sharp shell pieces from stabbing vitals.

And hey that’s the end of the post, which was total not inspired by me rereading Kariachi’s necromancer Argit reviving Andreas fic no no it was the Casual Geographic video on ants yeet-

#talpaedan #andreas #andreas ben 10 #ben 10 #xenobiology #technically i guess lmao #i mean i think with all this ant gender stuff i gotta make some more ‘talpaedans are armadillos’ headcanons #but like ant gender is so fun like i just gotta! like armadillo inspiration is bog standard and expected #but yeah andreas survives a few bricks to the face with only a ‘it…. hurts…’ to say for it #it’s not… yeah it’s not GREAT but at least SOMETHING is said for it a human would probably be a fine red mist (not how collapses work)#i have no idea how much i’ve said before about talpaedan headcanons and how much has been in my head until now i hope ths isnt confusing

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star-arcana · 4 months

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Prince of Persia The Lost Crown Immortal Showcase Nr#2: Vahram, The White Lion!!!

Hello everyone, here I am again for another Immortal Showcase for the upcoming Prince of Persia game, The Lost Crown!

Today, I will showcase you the fierce and cunning leader of the Immortals: Vahram:

Vahram is known as the White Lion of Persepolis [Persepolis was the capital of the first Persian Empire in the real world, the Achaemenid Empire, and lies in modern day Iran], not simply because of his chic armor or his undoubtedly good looks, but because of the fierceness and sharp intellect that he possesses, allowing him to pretty much become the greatest and best warrior in the Kingdom!!!

Vahram is not just the leader of the often-mentioned Immortals, but their founder!!!

Even from an early age, he was a cunning and powerful warrior, who got noticed by the Queen of Persia, Thomyris, who made him her most trusted general and report to her directly. For his great service and convinced that Persia needs more talented warriors like Vahram, Queen Thomyris tasked him with recruiting other powerful warriors in service of Persia!!! A mission he gladly took and succeeded in completion with the recruitment of its youngest member... Sargon!!!

With his outstanding skills as warrior and good leadership, he became a role model and mentor for many in Persia, including his Immortals, who follow him without question!

Due to his great connection to the throne, Vahram and his elite soldiers enjoy a lot more freedom to do what they want in battle than the more drilled and stricter general forces of Persia, and as such, get to perform one of Vahram's occasionally high-risky maneuvers or unorthodox tactics into the mix of his otherwise rather old-school-looking playbook of warfare, which in combination of the above stuff won them many a battle!

Once the Prince was kidnapped, he and his Immortals were set out to retrieve him at Mt.Qaf, a place that was cursed, where time no longer flows like a river would...

In order to find the Prince the fastest way possible, Vahram came up with a plan that can be described in modern terms as a Teen-Horror-Movie-like-split-up, that would allow them to find Prince Ghassan before anyone else!!!

Vahram would do ANYTHING to save his beloved Kingdom, and if someone were to fatally underestimate his cunning and battle prowess, they would surely fall to him quickly and without any way to get up, unless they earn his mercy, or just REALLY get lucky here!!!

However, the mission he partook in with the Immortals is not one easily bested, but regardless of difficulty, Vahram won't give up easily! He is the leader of the Immortals for a hundred of reasons and will do his best to save Persia!!!

Will his plan succeed or fail in finding the Prince? Will Sargon make his mentor (other than Anahita) proud? Find out on 18th January, once this game releases!!!

Stay tuned for more and fact of the day:

Vahram is super hot!!!

#star arcana revelations #prince of persia #the lost crown #vahram #queen thomyris #sargon #anahita #immortals #immortals showcase

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justanotherthrowaway1950 · 2 years

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Why It Made Sense for the Dai LI to Follow Azula

One of the major complaints that fans often have about ATLA is the fact that the Dai Li decided to follow Azula, a 14 year old girl whose only allies at the time where her two non-bending friends, when logically they should have either continued to stay loyal to Long Feng or try to ingrain themselves with Kuei while also staying loyal to their country.

But I think if we look past the surface facts and omniscient third person viewpoint that we, the viewers, have, the Dai Li definitely made the right decision to betray their country, their king, and Long Feng in favor of Azula.

For what probably happened was that the Dai Li had long realized that it was a matter of time before the Fire Nation took over Ba Sing Se considering it got breached three times in less than five years: Iroh’s siege, The Drill, and the Dangerous Ladies pretending to be the Kyoshi Warriors.

Not to mention Sozin’s Comet was coming, and so it was likely Ozai, who is just as cruel and evil as Sozin, would have used it to burn down the largest remaining resisting nation.

And combined with the fact that Kuei, with the support of the Gaang, had just started to take back power, they had five options: (1) continue to support Long Feng and attempt to put him on the throne; (2) support the Gaang’s invasion plan before either getting stripped of their power or facing jail time for their crimes; (3) support the Gaang’s invasion plan, and, in the event that the Gaang’s plan fails, watch the Earth Kingdom get burned to the ground by the Fire Nation while they probably get tortured for going against the Fire Princess at a key moment; (4) attempt to jail the Dangerous Ladies and use them as hostages or brainwash them and have them infiltrate the Fire Nation; (5) or join Azula and get to keep power by virtue of being her right-hand goons.

In regards to option 1, even if they manage to eliminate Kuei and the Gaang, or at least make them accept Long Feng as ruler, which is a tall task considering the Gaang’s revulsion towards the Dai Li’s mass mind rape campaign, their combat prowess, and the fact that Long Feng murdered Jet in front of them, Long Feng has no legitimacy, nor will he ever be able to gain it.

For Long Feng is heavily implied to have come from a commoner’s bloodline, and thus can’t appeal to tradition, or the mandate of heaven/the divine right to rule, like Kuei and Azula can, no one outside of the Dai Li or Ba Sing Se’s insular elite knows him, and he lacks popular support due to his relative anonymity, something that will get compounded once his crimes become public knowledge thanks to the Gaang if the Dai Li don’t manage to kill all of them quickly.

Thus, the Earth Kingdom is liable to break out into civil war, and thus become easy pickings for the Fire Nation, with all of them getting tortured for going against the Fire Princess in a key moment.

For even though the circumstances were different, the moment the Earth Queen Hou-Ting was assassinated by the Red Lotus, the Earth Kingdom devolved into a state of anarchy that only ended when Kuvira and her men forcibly brought the warlords and roving bands violently to heel while also using their advanced technology and wealth of resources to provide aid to struggling Earth Kingdomers, thereby gaining their support.

And clearly, Long Feng and Dai Li are incapable of replicating Kuvira’s cult of personality and don’t have access to advanced technology or the resources necessary to bring everyone in the Earth Kingdom under their heel, peacefully or violently.

For if they could, wouldn’t they have already installed Long Feng on the throne and won the Hundred Year War already?

In regards to option 2, even if they rejected both Long Feng and Azula and helped the Gaang successful implement Sokka’s invasion plan, therefore bringing the Hundred Year War to a relatively peaceful end, do you really think that they thought that they would have been able to keep operating as the nigh-all-powerful spy network that they had become under Long Feng and/or that they would have not faced punishment for their myriad of vile crimes?

Or do you think they thought that even if they helped the invasion plan go through smoothly they would have been stripped of their power and/or severely punished?

Especially since Kuei had expressed anger for essentially being lied to his entire life by the Dai Li, and the fact that the Gaang has a reputation of being literal social justice warriors?

(Any spy network worth their salt would have found out about the Gaang’s adventures and good deeds.)

In regards to option 3, even though Sokka’s plan seemed fool-proof, there was always the chance that it could fail.

For even if they managed to get to the palace unimpeded, what is not to say that Ozai wouldn’t have used one of his numerous hidden tunnels/rooms/passages to hide until his firebending returned, or that one of guards in Caldera City after seeing the invasion force wouldn’t have been able to send a messenger hawk to Ozai that would reach him well before the invasion force did (did you see how fast those guards who saw Aang and his arrows during The Beach were able to send a messenger hawk, and how fast said hawk was traveling?), and thus prompt him to hide till his bending returned?

(Any component spy network would realize that any well designed palace would have numerous, quickly accessible hiding spots only known to the royals living in it in the case that the royals needed to hide from any domestic or foreign attackers.)

For I know this is years later, but despite having fully realized Aang and Toph at various times at the palace, there are still numerous hidden tunnels, rooms, and passages that Zuko and his guards are not aware of, with the only real plausible explanations, in my opinion, being that they didn’t think to use their seismic senses to map out the passages and tunnels because they forgot, or because they are unable to.

Therefore, if Aang and Toph behave like the older canon counterparts do, and the Dai Li have no evidence to support the idea that Aang and Toph would not make mistakes in the heat of battle when they have to choose who to follow, it is very easy to see the invasion force not being able to find Ozai before the eclipse ends, and thus they all get slaughtered unless Aang has mastered the Avatar State by that point.

For Ozai is likely able to kill Aang before his reflexive Avatar State kicks in thanks to his quick charge lightning.

Not to mention the Dai Li, at the moment they had to choose between Long Feng, Azula, and Kuei, had no idea that Aang could master the Avatar State like that.

And before someone tries to argue that the invasion force in this timeline would be a lot bigger, and thus it would be impossible for the force to lose once they get inside the palace, I don’t think that would be the case considering the Earth Kingdom has such poor logistics that, despite their larger amount of resources and people, they were losing to an increasingly overspread invading force.

Also, if the invasion force was large enough, the Fire Nation would have seen the suspect naval movements, and therefore would have likely beefed up their security to the point that it would have been hard to send in large amounts of troops to Caldera City, even with their secret weapon, the submarines, being unknown to the Fire Nation.

Not to mention they would not have enough waterbenders to pilot enough submarines to carry all the troops considering the small size of the Foggy Swamp Tribe, and the fact that Sokka did not think his father would be able to convince the Northern Water Tribe to help in the canon timeline, despite Sokka’s invasion plan being the best shot pre-Sozin’s Comet at ending the war .

(The above has to be the explanation of why Sokka didn’t ask for any Northern Water Tribe waterbenders to help the invasion, or else why would Sokka half-ass what is the most important thing he will ever do in his life as far as he knows?)

Thus, either they die in the failed invasion, or, if they live and/or where back home, they can do nothing as the Fire Nation probably uses Sozin Comet to end the war while also retaliating against the Earth Kingdom for supporting the invasion.

And in the very small likelihood they survive all of that, they probably end up getting tortured (ex. being sent to the Boiling Rock) for daring to go against the Fire Nation when they, in the form of its Princess, offered the Dai Li a chance to peacefully join them and their goal of spreading “propensity”.

And before anyone says torture is not Ozai or Azula’s style, Ozai disfigured his own son and had a policy of putting enemy POWs in Fire Nation armor while having them fight in the front lines.

Meanwhile, while this does take place after the coup, Azula made it a point in Suki Alone to taunt Suki about the conditions she would face in the Boiling Rock in an effort to break her. And it would not be crazy to assume that Suki was not the first person Azula personally sent to prison to break considering the active and trusted role Azula had in her father’s regime.

(I personally don’t think Azula's mission to capture Zuko and Iroh was the first time her father trusted her with an important task related to ruling, but that is not the focus of this post).

So the Dai Li would not be wrong in assuming that Ozai and/or Azula would be willing to torture them if they defied the Fire Nation and got their hands on the Dai Li afterwards.

In regards to option 4, while it would be more politically expedient to take down the Dangerous Ladies and use them, especially Princess Azula, as a bargaining chip to sue for peace against the Fire Nation, or brainwash them and turn them into sleeper agents, that only works if you can capture them in the first place.

And that is not really possible considering how Mai and Ty Lee are platoon busters (ex. how easily they took out Terra Team) and Azula is implied to be vastly above the two in terms of combat prowess, meaning that any attempt to capture the Dangerous Ladies would end poorly for the Dai Li.

Also, even in the very unlikely event that they managed to capture the Dangerous Ladies, what would make the Dai Li think that Ozai would care, or, if they brainwashed them and sent them to Fire Nation, he would not kill them all for failing him?

For any component spy network would have found out that Ozai burned and disinherited his loyal son because of Zuko’s “weakness”, or that Ozai has a history of banishing those who fail him (ex. Vachir), so why would Ozai act any differently towards the Dangerous Ladies considering in this timeline they failed to capture Zuko, Iroh, or any Gaang member on top of their failure to protect The Drill, and then ghosting him for a long time due to being mind raped by the Dai Li?

“But what about the Gaang? Or Zuko? Weren’t they able to fight the Dangerous Ladies to a standstill at various times during Season 2?”

Yeah, but doesn’t change my conclusion because Season 2 Gaang are casual platoon busters as well considering how easily they fought through the Earth Kingdom Royal Palace’s defenses, and how Aang was able to take out at least a dozen Fire Nation ships filled with soldiers despite only knowing air and waterbending during The Siege of The North. And in regards to Zuko, he was able to take on a group of professional soldiers almost entirely with just his swords despite starving during Zuko Alone, and yet he is vastly below Azula for most of S2.

And before someone tries to say that the Gaang or the Dangerous Ladies are not meant to be platoon busters, consider the facts that: Rebound!Mai was able to solo a New Ozai hideout with Tom Tom strapped on her back without getting any massive power increases or undergoing heavy training; Azula most likely killed or knocked out everyone in her asylum when she broke the Fire Warriors out; and the fact that Azula fodderized Mai in Smoke & Shadow despite Azula noticing that Mai’s knife throwing skills have gotten better.

So it seems pretty clear that the Dai Li would never been able to take the Dangerous Ladies, and even when Azula finds herself alone with the Dai Li, like when Long Feng tried to have her arrested, it is clear that Azula could have killed them all if came down it, something that must been painfully clear to the Dai Li.

“But Iroh surrendered during the climax of The Crossroads of Destiny.”

He clearly wasn’t exerting himself and probably did not want to kill Zuko, or even Azula (Iroh could have killed Azula several times beforehand but didn’t), since they would have probably fought him to the death as far as he knew. Hence, why he only fought to ensure that Katara got away with Aang’s body so Azula couldn’t double tap, and why he surrendered once that objective was achieved.

Besides, if he really wanted to fight, how come he didn’t use his advanced techniques like breathing fire or shooting quick charge lightning, both of which he used earlier during the day when he and Zuko were escaping from the Dai Li?

So that leaves us with option 5 being the only acceptable option to the Dai Li considering the circumstances and their knowledge at the time.

For the Dai Li is first and foremost a spy bureaucracy with no sense of honor, no fucks about their nation or fellow citizens, and a laser minded focus on keeping their privileges and power. And just before Azula’s coup, it looked like they were going to lose everything that mattered to them.

For a giant ass drill shows up a few days ago and almost penetrates their once thought to be impenetrable walls for the second time in five years; Omashu, one of the last remaining strongholds, is taken like less than a month ago with barely any resistance; and the Avatar not only exposed their mass mind raping campaign, but also is empowering their puppet ruler to actively cut off the strings for good.

Yet, when everything seems lost, not only is the Fire Princess out and about in their city, but also generously offers them to join her with no requirements other than helping her take over Ba Sing Se, and thus end the Hundred Year War with as little bloodshed as possible.

And while Azula’s offer might seem too good to be true, you have to put yourself in the Dai Li’s shoes and remember that the Dai Li are in on the big lie.

For they know about the war, about how the Fire Nation has taken over huge sections of the Earth Kingdom, and how it is only a matter of time before the Fire Nation takes over Ba Sing Se if they don’t use Sozin’s Comet to burn it to the ground in a show of force.

Thus, if the predominant, genocidal superpower of world says that they can avoid getting the shit kicked out of them like literally everyone else in their country, you can see why the Dai Li think it is a no brainer to take the offer.

Especially when by swearing allegiance to the heir, or future puppet master depending if Zuko ever “redeemed” himself, of the most powerful royal family on the planet with an established cult legitimizing their rule (ex. Azula’s “divine right to rule” comment, or how the Fire Nation indoctrinates it citizens, especially young kids, to view the Fire Lord as an infallible figure), they not only get more power over Ba Sing Se due to becoming Princess Azula’s right-hand henchmen, which becomes true since while Azula appoints a Joo Dee to be Supreme Bureaucratic Administrator of Ba Sing Se, the Dai Li control the Joo Dees, but also don’t have to deal with any pesky legitimacy issues that would arise if they tried to assert power directly, or by backing Long Feng.

Thus, the Dai Li made the best decision in regards to their self interest that they could have.

In fact, the only reason why it didn’t completely work out in their favor in the long run was because they probably didn’t expect there to be such strong resistance even after Ba Sing Se fell and Aang was presumed to be dead, or that Azula and Ozai would be so cracked as to genocide their own lands despite the massive loss of life and environmental damage that would ensure.

And of course, no one could have predicted Azula’s Sozin’s Comet meltdown, or the events leading up to it, that ended with them being banished from the Fire Nation.

For example, could anyone other than Iroh predict Zuko turning traitor, or that Mai and Ty Lee would commit high treason in such a fashion that it triggered the onset of Azula’s childhood schizo-??? disorder?

So to sum up, if we take a moment to analyze the situation from the Dai Li’s POV when Long Feng commanded them to arrest Azula, it is easy to understand why they chose Azula since it was the only way they could remain in control of Ba Sing Se.

For if you think about it, the only thing the Dai Li care about is control and power.

And who better to give it to them than Princess Azula, the personification of the Dai Li’s ideals as far as they know?

#azula #zuko #mai #ty lee #the gaang #dangerous ladies #ozai #iroh #long feng #dai li #fire nation royal family #earth kingdom #fire nation #dai li meta #fire nation royal family meta #earth kingdom meta #fire nation meta #justanotherthrowaway1950meta

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wordsandrobots · 5 months

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IBO reference notes on … the Gundams (Addendum 1)

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Addendum 1]

Calling this the first addendum because hopefully, at some point, I'll be doing another to cover the Baklazan Family's entry in the list. In the meantime, let's take a gander at the two 'suits released to the world since I wrapped up my posts on the Gundam frames.

ASW-G-16 Zepar

(With apologies to Gundam Info, who had a higher resolution version of this image than the actual MSV site).

When I separated the Gundam frames into groups for the purposes of not having an extremely over-long blog post, they naturally fell into three groups: relatively simple designs, armed relatively simply; more busy designs featuring some kind of added gimmick; and the freaks and weirdos representing increasingly arcane strategies for beating mobile armours. Seems the official designers intend this to be an actual in-story progression since Zepar, as a low-numbered machine, neatly fits into the first category.

Excepting the 'cape' of shield-wings, Zepar is remarkably unadorned, comparable to Barbatos in its straightforwardness. That a pilot armed only with a sword and shield should have gained a position among the Seven Stars speaks to Embrilla Kujan's skill. True, the shield is motorised so it can be turned into a large-bore drill (handy). But that in itself demonstrates this Gundam did its fighting at close range, further underlining Embrilla's capability. There are undoubted similarities here to Agnika Kaieru's trademark two-sword combat style, which probably looked very good in the late-War propaganda. Indeed, few of the other Gundams seem as gloriously heroic as this in their resting appearance. Put Bael and Zepar in the same place and you're looking at a pair of elegant warriors. Champion dragon-killers, here to save the human race!

Before we get too caught up in the aesthetics, however, let's consider the realities of the Calamity War's outcome. Going by the seating plan, and assuming this maps seniority within the Seven Stars (based on the Issues being positioned at the top of the table), the Kujans and the Fareeds lie at the bottom of the heap. This would actually track quite well with Iznario Fareed's scheming. Lacking the comfortable entrenchment of, say, the Falk Family, he sought to gain other advantages by breaking Gjallarhorn's ostensive political neutrality and acquiring allies among Earth's governments.

Perhaps this also explains why the Kujan Family apparently has connections to underworld figures such as Jasley Donomikols. I'm not going to claim any of the noble families are less than extensively corrupt. Gjallarhorn bends to realpolitik at all levels. But it is notable that the Kujans should have a relationship with the JPT Trust that possibly extends as far as getting them a Halfbeak class spaceship for their boss to ride around in. Is a Jupiter mobster not a rather petty ally for a high-placed house? Or does this represent the level on which such a low-ranked member of the elite can operate?

Without knowing much about Iok's father beyond his earning the adoration of his troops and the above-mentioned connection, it's hard to say for sure. If the Kujans are indeed the runts of the Seven Stars, it seems our red-glad knight was surpassed quite comfortably by peers using different, more pragmatic strategies. Given the drive towards greater complexity in later designs, we might take this to be something the people fighting the War were themselves aware of. At some point, the base Gundam form was judged insufficient for the task at hand.

Then again, the Kujan progenitor still made a place among the seven, however lowly. And, lest we forget, the Falk's Gundam was the fourth in the sequence. The simpler machines cannot be counted out just by virtue of being simpler.

From the Ars Goetia:

The Sixteenth Spirit is Zepar. He is a Great Duke, and appeareth in Red Apparel and Armour, like a Soldier. His office is to cause Women to love Men, and to bring them together in love. He also maketh them barren. He governeth 26 Legions of Inferior Spirits, and his Seal is this, which he obeyeth when he seeth it.

There's an obvious joke in here about preventing Iok's from having been around to screw everything up. That aside, Gundam Zepar is most exactly a 'soldier in red apparel'. Further, on the theme of love, its heroic appearance and the way that Iok's father is talked about in the series seem to mesh well together. Perhaps in Zepar we see the epitome of Gjallarhorn as a positive force -- on the surface, at least.

ASW-G-61 Zagan

16 at the bottom, 61 at the top. I wonder if that was on purpose? They share a designer out of fiction, and seem to share more design cues in-universe than most other pairs of Gundams we could pick. These are perhaps the pair it is most easily to look at and say 'the second is developing on the first'.

Anyway. Gundam Zagan. Original pilot: Arzona Issue. The most prolific mobile armour killer of the Seven Stars. Perhaps *the* most prolific of all the Gundams, depending on whether we assume Bael took the actual top spot and whether the Seven Stars bagged most armours overall, not just out of the surviving pilots.

If Zepar represents simplicity of form, Zagan is a triumph of function. Its numbering places it in the top third of the 72 frames, which by my breakdown classifies it as a freak, and, well. Those aren't just shields it's got there: they're Zagan's main weapons.

With three canonical fights against mobile armours under our belts, we can safely say the goal in such encounters is to rip the 'armour to bits. Whether it be Marchosias dicing Harael with a show of expert swordsmanship, Wiz and friends ganging up to wear down Mebahiah by sheer weight of numbers, or Mikazuki clobbering Hashmal until he gets an opening to stab it in the central processor, a certain degree of dismemberment seems par for the course. This ties into the 'medieval' combat style of the show, but also fits with the general sense that the 'armours are such juggernauts, their defences need to be peeled back to expose any trace of weakness.

A Gundam outfitted with a part of giant tin-openers, therefore, feels like exactly the kind of thing you'd want on the battlefield. Moreover, in his (brief) usage of Zagan, erstwhile Issue Family-supporter Londo Bron demonstrates the sheer brute strength of the machine, effortlessly dispatching a squad of three Grazes, including one he quite literally punches to death. Like Gusion in its Brewers form, this Gundam is built thick, the limbs set wide on the frame. It's the most brutish 'suit we've seen since Gamigin and where that appeared built for heavy-lifting, this one seems designed to be a berserker. Close-range, like Zepar, but discarding swords or spears in favour of crushing force.

Again, it reads as an extension of previous attempts, pushing the envelope in the pursuit of victory. Like Murmur, this looks like a case of incorporating the enemy's strengths: those claws would be at home on a mobile armour -- riffing on Ananel, perhaps? It is certainly building on the kind of equipment Marchosias used, moving from providing auxiliary limbs to making them the Gundam's primary offensive capability (remember, Marchosias' main weapon remained its long sword/club; the other articulated blades were in addition).

What strikes me most of all is how this circles around to what Barbatos will become under Tekkadan's watch. Gjallarhorn might assay the heroic appearance of Zepar, with ornate uniforms and aristocratic trappings, a proud bearing in the face of a grubby world. But the most powerful group among their leadership for three centuries was founded by someone who flew a machine like Zagan, which would be quite at home alongside Barbatos Lupus Rex.

All kingship is rooted, ultimately, in conquest and brutality. The trappings of honour and martial splendour among which Carta Issue dies in PD 323 are a veneer over the horror of a devastating war -- and the horrors required to end it.

One has to wonder what she would have made of her ancestor in their prime, tearing armours apart with their all four of their bare hands.

From the Ars Goetia:

The Sixty-first Spirit is Zagan. He is a Great King and President, appearing at first in the Form of a Bull with Gryphon's Wings; but after a while he putteth on Human Shape. He maketh Men Witty. He can turn Wine into Water, and Blood into Wine. He can turn all Metals into Coin of the Domninion that Metal is of. He can even make Fools Wise. He governeth 33 Legions of Spirits, and his Seal is this, etc.

'Bull with gryphon's wings' is a certainly an apt description of the form and with respect to what I was just talking about, putting on a human shape 'after a while' feels like a theme to run with more than in the other metamorphoses we've read about. Indeed, there is much here to do with the transformation of baser things into the stuff of civilisation: wit, wine, coin, even wisdom. Is this not what the Issues led, the refinement of an organisation dedicated to ending a war into the bastion of a new age? Or, if we are to be cynical about it, is it any surprise a demon's production of such things should only run skin-deep?