#Defendor

[amphobet]

Defendor

By Andalar

I can't help but compare Defendor to Super, which came out the following year. Both movies star wanna-be superheroes that are not exactly neurotypical, but Defendor is the better film, in my opinion. Super has its good points, but is overall a bit too dark and cynical. I'd gladly watch Defendor again, but the thought of rewatching Super makes me a bit queasy. It's not a bad film, but it can be very uncomfortable.

[lully-jo]

I wonder how many people really love and relate to Alisaie because they too were the girl who struggled to understand how folks around her could act like suffering and selfishness and hivemind behavior was normal and their softness was called a weakness and so they built up an abrasive exterior to force people to take them seriously and now they don't know how to be vulnerable without feeling embarrassed or cringe even though they still feel things so deeply it's almost suffocating...

[zenjiiejiie]

In moonlight chicken the deaf character 'heart' doesn't speak despite the fact that it's said that he only lost his hearing in the past few years and I have a few theories as to why. I want to say this before we start though I am NOT hard of hearing nor deaf and I will not say that I'm 100% correct it could just be gmm using deaf stereotypes despite it not making sense for the character.

Theory 1

To be honest this is less of a classic theory and more of a psychological approach-based theory as to why he might not be talking: because it bothers him.

It bothers him that despite the fact that he /can/ talk he won't be able to hear what he says or how he says it and with him having an officer parent and the way they acted with Li Ming it's safe to say they are the kind of parents that expect their child to be perfect all the time but now he /cant/ be not with his voice at least.

People who are HOH or deaf can still feel the vibrations their body makes when they speak i'd even argue that you can probably feel it more because you can't hear the sounds from your voice that covers it up and distracts you. So it's probably jarring for him to be able to feel his voice but not hear it.

And personally I think if I lost my hearing (over years because it wasn't like he just woke up and it was gone he was probably losing it slowly over time) I'd probably not like talking either especially with how people act around deaf/disabled people all over the world but that's just my personal opinion.

Theory 2

Just because he /could/ speak when he was hearing doesn't mean that he /did/ he might just be used to being quiet. The character seems like the type and his parents are definitely the 'don't speak until you're spoken to' kind of parents so I wouldn't be surprised if heart just was used to not talking even when he had his hearing and it's not like if he did speak his parents would've listened to him anyway what with them ignoring heart during the whole confrontation with Li Ming.

Theory 3

He might be insecure about his voice now that he doesn't know what he sounds like. He doesn't know he's making noises when he's signing to Li Ming (he can't hear them after all) so I wouldn't be surprised if he was told at some point when he started losing his hearing that his voice sounded weird (maybe not even in a bad way) but he was already losing his hearing and now knowing he isn't even talking how he wants to? Devastating.

Anyway

Like I said I could be totally wrong and it's just another one of gmmtv's bad character designs based on stereotypes. we won't know until more eps come out (if they even talk about it at all)

[wispythreads]

Different ways NPC's address the Knight

Elderbug - traveller, little traveller, (after gifting the delicate flower) my friend Quirrel - my friend, my short friend, friend Cornifer - my short friend (only said once, usually just directly addresses the Knight) Old Stag - little one Confessor Jiji - small intruder, little one Snail Shaman - little shadow, my friend The Hunter - tiny squib, little squib, Zote the Mighty - cur, soggy vagabond, clumsy little oaf, lowly worm Hornet - ghost, little ghost, Ghost of Hallownest Tiso - pale thing, little squib, pale one Salubri - sweetling, stylish litte gadfly, my dear, sweetums, my dapper gadfly Cloth - my adventurous friend, tiny warrior, tiny creature, my friend, tiny saviour, tiny one Bretta - White Saviour, White Wanderer Millibelle - dearie; creepy, little thing (thought to herself, not out loud) Seer - Wielder Grey Mourner - Le'mer (she does also address the Knight as 'you,' so Le'mer must mean something else) Nailsmith - traveller (only after not killing him) Relic Seeker Lemm - grubby little wanderer, short one, Little Fool - warrior Nailmaster Mato - my pupil Eternal Emilitia - bug, little grub Dung Defendor - mighty warrior of Hallownest Midwife - my dear, my good friend Bardoon - tiny thing Troupe Leader Grimm - my friend Divine - funny little thing, little lovely

no nicknames, always addresses the Knight directly with "you:" Myla, Sly, Iselda, Leg Eater, Willoh, Tuk, Nailmaster Sheo, Nailmaster Oro (both nailmasters will say the Knight is their pupil, but not address the Knight as 'my pupil'), Brumm, White Lady

Maskmaker is an outlier in that he is so cryptic he never addresses the Knight directly

[fotibrit]

Peter Parker joins a discord group dedicated to spider-man, mainly to see what people are saying about his work. Only a week later, a new account joins the discord... someone whose pfp seems very similar to Peter...

It's Tony's second account. Tony had no idea that Peter is in the group, but Peter is very aware Tony is in it.

Tony's second account turns out to be Peter's greatest defendor, and whenever everyone starts speculating his identity, Tony does his best to shut it down

[pow-creations-headcanons]

Hc Martyn always confuses himself on which world he is on [ since he's a DATASTREAM DEFENDOR THREE THOUSAND trademark ], so essentially he's just making alot of inside jokes and references to the wrong friendgroup lol. It doesn't help that half of his friends are on the same world as he, is i.e rats and pirates [ and life series too i guess ]

———

"Oh Cleo, how's your uhh husband by the way?" Martyn brought up the question while at the docks, might as well ask since he hasn't seen Cleo in a while.

"Husband? Last time I checked I don't think I ever got engaged" Cleo raised an eyebrow

"Whoa???? I thought Etho was with you did you guys divorce or-"

"what?"

———

- 📓

"Jimmy, why aren't you with the other bad boys?" to the safety rat, before a tiny look of panic crosses over his face, remembering they aren't here.

I THINK THIS IS REALLY COOL I LIKE THIS A LOT I LOVE THIS SO MUCH RRRGH TEARS THIS APART!!!!

[1980sactionfigures]

Defendor (Super GoBots) - GoBots (Tonka)

[raurquiz]

#happybirthday @OfficialKat #katdennings #actress #DarcyLewis #thor #thedarkworld #wandavision #whatif #thorloveandthunder #nickandnorainfiniteplaylist #charliebartlett #2brokegirls #BigMommasHouse2 #TheHouseBunny #Defendor #TheAnswerMan #DaydreamNation #DrunkHistory #DallasandRobo

[ashitakaxsan]

Revisiting the Heartwarming Flashback

Professor Henderson and Martha Marriot's Wholesome Bond in Spy x Family 💼💖 Step back in time with the latest chapter in Spy x Family, where the tender relationship between Professor Henderson and Martha Marriot comes to life in vivid detail. As we journey through their shared memories, we're reminded of the power of friendship, kindness, and the bonds that endure through the ages.

It was a question about what sort of story do housemaster Henderson and Marriot share.I was wondering about it.

Below:Chapter 72. They know each other well!

They know each other,each one calls him wit his little name.

Now with chapter 97 Endo sensei gives us their shared backstory. Back during their years in Eden College Martha as the quite talented ballerin sparked to Henderson the word "Elegant".

Eventually Henry was saved by the severe bullying of his classmates,thanks to the amazingly agile Martha.The incident led him to seek Justice,so this awful mentality wouldn't ever get repeated. But in his Dismay the seeds of Corruption,within the Well respected Eden College,had really blossomed to flowers of Evil(:

"Even the teachers at Eden have been corrupted. I'll not let that happen to me". That'a great line of a man ,believing in moral Integrity.He would seriously protect this vital Element.He had made up his mind:In order to protect it,and make Active Defence of Integrity he would become a great Educator.

But being fixated with it,in the way he pursued his ideals,to seriously change the world(as far as i can tell it's pointless to change the world.the point is let go, keep an open mind, and give the universe room to show itself as it is-Taoism) he forgot to keep being with those close.Or accurately he saw it as useless.Ditching way the simple things that provides us joy isn't that great.These are Friendship,laughter,a sense of humor(:

(The arc displays us the volatile mentality and unscrupulness at Eden. How come the Disciplinary Committee got too lax? Where was madam Donna Schlag? She's always strict,dismissing the aggressive language too. Below:She was around the same time with Marriott)

Below:The panel displays the joy od the graduates-except of Henderson.See somone noticed it:That Henry sees these things as a burden,he seems stonecold.

That's how he left Martha behind,to her it really mattered that he walked way,with out him started the sorrow(:

Man,how Endo sensei makes it give us an intence scene of her sad tears.She's heartbroken. She was more than interested on him: She's In love with him,head over heels. Yet he was clueless about her feelings.

"The next day I went to the garden thinking that he'd be there.I had the innocent believe that someone important to me would always be there": Martha Marriot.It did take the better of her,dragging her down -not being her usual self:The Lively,early bird.

It's intriguing how Endo sensei draws a subtle connection,between the corruption at Eden and the escalating tensions between Westalis and Ostania.Namely they're interrelated problems.

Maybe in the next chapter we'll see more about them: How did each one sense the war,how did each one react,and particularly Martha's decision for a path as Defendor-not a coldblooded killer.

[witchybitchy222]

Lucien x Reader | Homecoming

Based on this prompt “I’ll say when you’ve had enough” requested by @heart-defendor

Short little smut!! My first time writing for Lucien and first time posting smut soooo we’ll see how this goes!!

WARNINGS: pure smut 18+ only, oral sex female receiving, P in V, unprotected sex, sexual touching, light choking

——————————————————————————

It was true what they said about the Vanserra males, they had fire in their veins. While your mate wasn’t technically a Vanserra, he still had the Autumn Court in his blood and it showed.

Lucien had been away for a while, visiting the Night Court. Normally you’d travel with him, but your sister was pregnant and due any day, and you wanted to make sure you were there for the birth.

While you were glad you were there for your sister, you’d missed Lucien terribly. You hadn’t been away from each other for more than a day since you were mated two years ago and feeling him through the bond wasn’t enough. Over the years you’d gotten used to receiving certain… attention from your mate on a regular basis and you were getting increasingly frustrated with each day that passed.

After two long weeks of waiting, Lucien finally sent word he’d be arriving home. You were giddy with excitement and spent the whole day preparing. You’d made his favorite pie, straight from his mother’s recipe, washed the bedding so everything smelled like lavender, and took an extra long bath to make your skin and hair soft and smooth.

Lucien would be home late, but you knew he’d want to greet you, and hopefully indulge in some much needed alone time. You put on a simple dress, light and breezy, made for the Day Court heat, foregoing underwear for extra… comfort.

You were brushing out your hair when you heard the door to your home open, you ran downstairs without a second thought, stopping when you saw your mate in the doorway.

He was so beautiful, his long auburn hair practically glowing against his brown skin, and the smile that lit up his face when he saw you made him 10 times more attractive. You sent all the love you were feeling down the bond and felt it sent right back. “Lucien” you breathed, and ran to him. He immediately enveloped you in his arms, burying his face in your hair and breathing you in. “Gods I missed you.” He sighed and you giggled and pressed a kiss to his shoulder in response.

He pulled back and smoothed the hair from your face before pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss. You let yourself sink into him, humming in pleasure. His hands traveled down your back before snaking over your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. You moaned into his mouth, earning a low chuckle in response.

Lucien moved from your lips to your neck, sucking the skin as he went. “Fuck, I missed the way you taste Y/N.” He practically growled.

“Lucien,” you breathed, “take me to bed.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. In one swift movement he lifted you into his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist as he reattached his lips to yours.

Lucien kicked the door shut behind him and carried you up the stairs, kissing and nipping at your neck all the way to your bedroom where he placed you gently on the bed.

He stood and stared at you for a moment, and the look in his eyes showed he was about to indulge in all the impure thoughts you’d had while he was gone.

You reached up for him, and he chuckled at your neediness. “Impatient?” He teased as he crawled over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“Yes” you sighed, wrapping your legs around him and pulling his body flush with yours. “I’ve spent every night since you left imagining this.” You began to work on taking his shirt off, there were far too many layers between your bodies.

“Oh really?” He practically purred, helping you remove his shirt. “What did you fantasize about Y/N?” He whispered in your ear, hands moving down to cup your breasts, squeezing and rolling your nipples through the thin material of your dress, “my hands?” You moaned, arching your back and pressing your chest into him “my mouth?” He asked, licking a stripe up your neck and nipping your ear with his teeth, “or my cock?” He rolled his hips against yours, your eyes fluttered at the friction and you let out a breathy sigh.

Your mate sat back on his heels, lifting your dress up over your head. Lucien moaned at the sight of you, bare and spread before him, ready to take whatever he was willing to give.

He leaned down and kissed you fiercely before his lips made a trail down your body, stopping at your nipple to suck and nip at it, earning him a moan of pleasure. He switched and did the same to your other breast as he used his knee to nudge your legs open beneath him.

He made his way down to your core, hands and lips blazing a trail as he went.

“This,” he began, licking his lips at the sight of your drenched pussy, “this is what I fantasized about. This tight little cunt dripping wet just for me.” Your walls clenched at his filthy words, wanting nothing more than to be filled by any and every part of him.

Lucien drug his fingers through your wetness, circling and barley grazing your clit, not giving you near enough friction. You whined, lifting your hips in frustration.

“Shhh” he said, gently pushing your hips back down “I want to take my time with you.” Then ever so slowly, he sunk one finger inside you, curling and pressing against a spot inside that made you gasp. He slid his finger out, adding a second as he dipped back in. You felt nothing but pleasure as he scissored and plunged them inside you, working at a steady pace. Then he leaned down and licked your aching clit before taking it in his mouth, sucking and nipping and swirling his tongue, eliciting all kinds of moans and gasps from you.

Your hand flew to his hair, wrapping silky auburn locks around your fingers as you ground your hips into his face.

Lucien’s skilled tongue and fingers had you seeing stars and the pressure was building steadily inside you, ready to burst.

He slid a third finger inside as he sucked hard on your clit and you cried out at the feeling, your orgasm hitting you hard, making your back arch as you cried out.

You came down from your high and Lucien was still buried in your cunt, licking and stroking at a relentless pace. You pulled at his hair, trying to pry him off your oversensitive sex, “Lucien,” you breathed when he didn’t let up, “it’s too much”

Your mate lifted his head, fingers still sliding in and out of you to growl, “I’ll say when you’ve had enough” before reattaching his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking with renewed vigor.

He tore a second orgasm from you in no time, tears springing from your eyes as you came undone around him.

Lucien finally relented, pushing himself up to hover over you. His hair was mussed from your hands, his mouth and chin were wet with your cum and his eyes were alight with that autumn fire.

You reached up and pulled him to you, kissing him deeply as your hands wandered down to undo his pants. He broke away briefly to help you shed the last piece of clothing before he was naked above you.

You practically moaned at the sight of his cock, thick, and hard, and throbbing.

You reached down and wrapped your hand as far around him as you could. You gave it a few quick strokes, watching as your mates eyes rolled back, his mouth slightly parted at the feel of you touching him.

Lucien reached down, replacing your hand with his own and guiding himself to your entrance. He pushed in slowly, straining with the effort of holding himself back, but even with how wet you were, it was still a stretch to fit him all inside of you.

He kept pushing in, inch by delicious inch, until he was fully inside of you, filling you to the brim. You rolled your hips against him and he wasted no time, sliding out and fucking into you.

“Harder” you moaned, nails scratching down his back, and your mate happily obliged, slamming his hips against yours and hitting that spot deep inside over and over again.

You were completely blissed out and you knew he was too, the feeling of him inside you, completing you, was almost too much and you felt another orgasm building inside.

Lucien pulled out briefly, flipping you onto your stomach. You pushed up onto your knees, ass in the air, giving him access which he readily took, slamming into you from behind.

You cried out at the feeling, pushing back into him as he grabbed your hips, fucking into you relentlessly.

His arm snaked around you, squeezing your breasts before wrapping his hand around your neck, pulling you back so his chest was flush against you.

The new angle and light pressure of his hand around your throat pushed you precariously close to the edge.

Lucien’s free hand traveled down, rubbing your clit fiercely, “Cum for me baby” he whispered in your ear, and the feeling of it all combined hurled you into a blinding orgasm. You cried out, legs shaking as your mate held you up, you felt him finish inside you as your walls clenched around him, milking his cock.

You collapsed onto the bed, Lucien lay with you for a moment, before regaining his breath and heading to the washroom.

He produced a warm, damp towel and cleaned you both off before settling in bed with you, pulling your back against his chest.

He nuzzled his face against your neck, whispering I love yous until you both fell asleep, warm and content in your mate’s arms.

Taglist:

@kayla26 @augustinerose @strawbwebbie @judig92 @bankerfrog @amdiriel @kristalhi @reareaikea @nothxney @toothhurtyam @goldentournesol

[luck-of-the-drawings]

WHAAT I DIDNT POST THIS WAAAHHTT,... anyway i drew this forever ago when i rewatched prime defendors for the seconnnnn uhhhh thirrrrddd no ffffforth tiiiime or somethin. IM IN LOV WITH ALL THESE CHARACTERS... OUUHH i cant stop thinkin about these characters.....

[thepumpkincorsair]

Lunchbox Heroes Part 1: Assignment

This started out from a Writing Prompt, and I did the rough draft on tumblr over an hour of lunch. The rough draft got enough attention for me to actually go back, edit, and add to it. It went from 3 pages to 8. So.... have fun with where it went, and let me know if you'd like to read more!

TW: Violence, Gore, Language

The scent of blood isn’t something you ever forget, especially when it’s soaked into your skin, absorbed into your very being. You wake up in the morning and choke on the metallic scent, like your sheets are sticky with coagulated sanguine… pinning you in place as you slide past the slime to escape the cotton prison of your bed. It’s been 30 years. You were 6 when your parents died, and for 30 years… you've choked on their blood every morning.

Every night, you close your eyes and you’re 6 again, cowering in a closet. You can see the whole thing through the slats in the door, lit by the moon in the window. Crimson Ax, a brutal villain, had decided your mother’s research into Abilities was a potential detriment to him. Your mother had been researching how to suppress abilities. How to use certain technologies to create a dampening device, so Villains could be more easily contained, and so children like you would have the chance to grow into their abilities safely… The villains didn’t want to let anyone have that kind of technology. Crimson would never let anyone contain him… and for that, he killed both of your parents.

30 years ago, you were home sick. If you hadn’t, you would have been at daycare, blissfully ignorant to the truths of the world. You would have believed the news report released the next day, you would still have hope in the world… but you were home sick, and never did recover.

It happened incredibly fast, but in slow motion at the same time… you were eating a snack, watching tv on your parents bed, some cartoon on public broadcast. Your father had rushed into the room and shoved you in the closet, telling you to keep silent, no matter what happened. You’d never seen him so pale, so wide eyed… so terrified. Your mother’s scream downstairs silenced you immediately, and made you cling to him.

Your father, rest his soul, ripped your hands off of his clothes, pinning them to your sides, “Stay here, stay still, stay silent. I love you.” He knew what was coming. You didn’t.

He reached past you for the family’s shotgun, and shut the door, closing you in. Your mother ran into the room as he did. She was holding her shoulder, but her arm was hanging wrong… it was hanging too low… there was so much blood, her pink dress was now red. You wanted to run to her, but the blast of the shotgun made you fall back into the back of the closet, onto your father’s shoes, where you stayed, hidden by his shirts.

There was a deep, dark laugh as a mountain of a man walked into the bedroom. Dressed in red, wielding a massive ax in place of his left arm. A red helmet hid his face from view as he stepped forward, swinging the ax down on your mother’s back. Blood sprayed from her mouth as she fell to the carpet.

Your father shot again, knocking Crimson back a step before he just smiled. “I was considering letting you live… but shooting me twice? You’ve just gone and pissed me off.” He pulled the ax out of your mother’s lifeless body and took a step towards your father.

That was when the window shattered, and two new figures entered the bedroom, wearing their own masks. Heroes… or so you thought. Defendor and his sidekick, Power Pal, stood in the moonlight, catchphrases primed and ready to deliver, but Crimson Ax didn’t let them deliver it. He laughed, picking up your mother’s body, and throwing it at Defendor, before rushing Power Pal, and putting that Ax right into his gut.

“What a hero…” He crooned as he ripped the ax from Power Pal’s abdomen, spilled ropes of bloody intestines on the floor. What good do Abilities do when your insides are falling out?

Defendor was on the ground, your mother’s body still draped in his lap. Staring in shock towards his sidekick. He was one of the up and coming Heroes in your city. Newly signed to an agency, and making a name for himself taking down criminals and villains nearly on a daily basis. He was your favorite hero as a child… and he never even stood up.

That deep dark laugh just echoed into the night, as your father’s shaky hands tried to reload the shotgun. Two more blasts rang out into the night as Crimson lumbered back the 5 steps to your father… He screamed when Crimson’s hand closed around his head. He begged for help, he called to Defendor as Crimson began to hack away at him. He cried and sobbed, and you held your hands over your mouth, soaked in your own tears and piss, hiding in a closet.

When it was over… When your father’s screaming finally stopped… and the choking sounds of dying breaths had finally ceased… Defendor was still sitting there. Staring at the lifeless body of Power Pal, holding your mother.

“You heroes… you think the world revolves around what you want, and that you can shape it to fit your desires… but here is the truth: The world is cruel, and that cruelty will never be contained. Pandora opened her box at the beginning of time, and even then, the very gods knew it’s contents could never be contained again. In the end, we all die. In the end, evil always wins. Because there is no good in death.” He laughed the whole time as he turned and left, leaving Defendor to stare into the darkness, and you to stare into your father’s lifeless eyes.

You force yourself out of your sweat soaked sheets and get in the shower, attempting to get the scent of phantom blood out of your hair and skin. You were an adult now, with shit to do. You didn’t get to hide in closets anymore. The hot water of the shower helps you relax a bit, but also lets your mind slip back to why you slept so poorly every night.

The cops weren’t the first to arrive. It was a woman in a white suit. She walked into the room without you even noticing her, until she spoke.

“What the ever loving fuck happened here Defendor?”

He just stammered incoherently as she stepped over your father’s body, directly to the closet, directly to you. She opened the closet and stared down at you, covered in tears, piss, and choking on the scent of blood. She frowned, and picked you up. “And of course you saw the whole thing. Let’s get you away from here.”

It was then that you started sobbing, crying into her shoulder as she carried you out of the house and past a squad of people in tactical gear. “Get that useless sack out of there and clean that mess up. I want a proper statement written and I want the evidence to match. Do I make myself clear?”

They saluted, and rushed into the house as she was putting you in the back seat of a black car. “Take us to headquarters.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Turns out, that woman was a retired hero, who had moved into admin at Defendor’s agency. She kept you close to her for the next few weeks as the press tried to get to you. You saw her as protecting you. That she was keeping the vultures away… When it would come on television, she would turn it off. You thought she was protecting you from having to hear about your parents’ tragedy. She took you daily to a child psychologist, making sure you were stable mentally, and able to process what happened. You thought she was being kind. She was retired, but she was your Hero for now… when Defendor had failed you.

It took almost a year for the story to eventually fade into the back of people’s minds. For you and your parents to be forgotten… and that was when Alise decided you no longer needed her, and turned you over to the state. The foster system didn’t do therapy, or protect you from prying questions, they just placed you where they could, and told you good luck.

You step out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your short, black hair, and wipe off the mirror. You pick up a necklace, putting it back in its proper place around your neck. It’s a small obsidian broach with a gold chain. Unassuming, quaint even. Your mother had gifted this to you before she died. It was her prototype. A small switch on the back of the broach turned it on or off. You usually keep it turned on, unless you’re working. You smirk slightly at the memory of the stupid boy in your first foster home who thought he’d take it to bully you. The state was shocked to realize you had Abilities, and you were quickly moved. Your file was marked ahead of time for your subsequent foster families afterwards to never try to separate you from your necklace. You were put into special classes at school to learn your Ability, and as you turned 9, a number of agencies approached you, both hero, and villain.

Part of you seriously considered the villain route. It wasn’t like Heroes held any value to you… if anything, they could be considered more selfish and self centered than a number of the Villains who offered you an apprenticeship, but you have an undeniable stubborn streak, and chose to become a Hero when you turned 15, and signed an agency to become a sidekick.

Defendor had retired when you were 11, disappearing quietly into the populace with his identity intact. No one knew who he was, so finding him as a civilian was something you’d given up on long ago. Hero agencies protected their employees after retirement, so, going after him would also land you a Villain designation, making you an available target for every Hero you’d pissed off over the years. Crimson Ax remained active, but he’d changed territories, moving further south to terrorize Ashwell. When he retired just before you could get your Hero’s License at 20 and go after him, it felt like fate had cheated you. Villain agencies were even more brutal in protecting their retirees, and he just vanished, right before you could get your hands on him… There would be no revenge.

Your memories float through your mind as you pour cream into your coffee. As an adult, you have one of the highest capture rates of any hero, and your agency pays you well for it. Between the trust and your salary, you can look out your penthouse apartment and view a good portion of the city below you, and even catch the sunset once in a while when you’re home. It was a peaceful existence. Lonely, but peaceful. You couldn’t bring yourself to date anyone, or even consider a family. You had too many enemies, and too many memories of what happens to families. Friends were few and far between for much the same reason. There was simply work, something you took seriously. You wouldn’t fail as a hero, and you wouldn’t put others at risk simply for knowing you.

A chirp from your phone catches your attention. Its a text message from the Agency:

“Hero, Obsidian, please report to Headquarters for briefing on your next assignment as soon as possible.”

This makes you raise an eyebrow. Usually the agency will send a text to let you know they emailed a file over their secure network for you to review. When you were called in for a briefing it usually meant this was a high profile case, or that you were going to have a partner… which you’ve specifically said you won’t do multiple times, but they just love when they can put you on a team of heroes to make them look good.

You sigh and change into your uniform: knee high armored boots, armored leggings, and an armored motorcycle jacket. You reach into your drawer and pull out a cowl, pulling it over your head to hide your face, tucking your short black hair up into it, and away from your eyes. On your way out the door you grab a black motorcycle helmet. You refuse to do the spandex thing.

The ride to the Agency is a relatively short one, especially when you can weave traffic at whatever speed you want. As a registered hero, you get away with a lot ‘in the name of justice.’

You park at a rundown noodle shop, pull off your helmet, and wave at the older woman serving up steaming bowls of ramen. She raises an eyebrow, “You got here fast.”

“Your text said ASAP.”

She eyes your bike the same way you imagine a judgemental aunt would, “I suppose that’s true. They’re waiting for you downstairs.”

You nod and continue to the back of the shop, moving carefully through the hot kitchen, carrying your helmet. Past the kitchen, in a pantry, was a set of stairs leading down into your personal hell.

In the sub basement is an elevator. You weigh your options of joining the two other heroes waiting for it, or taking the 40 flights of stairs down… Your practicality wins out, and you approach them.

“Hey, Obi. I rarely ever see you here.” The GOAT waves at you with a stupid grin on his goat shaped face. You often wonder how his mother reacted when his Ability manifested… or if he’d been born with it… and then you had more questions that you didn’t want to think of. You give him a raised hand of a wave, and stand quietly, hoping to avoid the conversation.

“Yea, what did they drag you in for? Another Alien invasion?” Anvil was one of those with a head as dense as his skin… practically made of iron.

“Didn’t say, just called me in.” You don’t like talking to these two… they were the definition of meat-heads, and they thought the world loved them.

“Well, I hope it’s another invasion, I’d love to get on another team. You know, my comics started selling almost double when we were teamed up that time.” Anvil nudged you with an elbow, trying to be friendly.

Sales and Royalties… how Heroes really made money, and why they signed to agencies. You needed a PR manager, a Products manager, Lawyers scarier than the Devil himself, and Insurances no one could afford in their wildest dreams.

Action figures, and figures in general were still some of the highest selling things. Some of the Heroes were also musical artists, or comedians, but rarely actors. No one wanted to see Romeo and Juliet performed by people in masks. Only the Heroes willing to give up their identities were really successful in their acting careers. You didn’t want that. You never removed your cowl. No one needed to know who you were, and who you’d like to hunt.

The elevator finally dinged and opened for them, putting a pause on the conversation as they filed into the metal box to go down 400 feet into the earth. When they closed, cheap elevator music began to fill the box as it squeaked and creaked its way down the dark shaft into the Lunchbox Heroes Headquarters.

“I heard something the other day, that they were pulling together some elites for something big. I wonder if you made the cut, Obi.” GOAT was not gonna let this go… was he…

“I’ll probably turn it down, I do 90% of the time.”

“If the risk is high enough, you won’t.” GOAT betrayed himself with that one. You look up into his animalistic eyes and spot it at the back, fear. When you agreed to team up with people, it meant the risk was real. It wasn’t something you’d ignore, and that worried him.

You raise an eyebrow at him as the elevator comes to a stop, and opens, filling with a few admin workers, some of them also masked, but most of them not. The three of you say no more on the topic, but you continue to watch GOAT as the elevator descends deeper, stopping again, where the worker bees got out, followed by GOAT and Anvil, “Good luck.” Anvil gives you a final wave as the doors shut, leaving you alone to go down to the deepest floor.

When you step off the Elevator, you're greeted with a locked door, and a retinal scanner. Your cowl doesn’t cover your eyes, so you lean down, and are granted access to the hallway beyond. Retinal scanners guaranteed the right people were allowed into the right places, and could be updated from a computer on one of the admin floors. Most days, you didn’t have access to this floor. You step into the concrete hallway, painted white, and approach the reception desk, your boots echoing on the hard floor. “Obsidian, reporting.”

The masked woman behind the desk looks down at a sheet, and finds your name, “Room 16, on the left.”

You thank her and head that direction. The briefing rooms were kept on lockdown because of the sensitive information shared. One time, you’d been left to wait nearly 4 hours between the arrivals of each person in a 5 part team, because the agency didn’t want the fact that you were teaming up to become known.

Room 16 looks identical to room 14 and room 18 on either side of it, or room 17 across from it. There was no way to tell what you were walking into. With a final deep breath, you open the door, prepared to be greeted by a group of young, overzealous heroes wanting desperately to work with you.

Instead, you’re greeted by Alise. Now much older, her blonde hair had gone gray, and her face sagged with age. But she stood just as straight and tall as ever, and still commanded a room with just her eyes. You’d only met with her a handful of times since joining the very agency that screwed you over all those years ago. You’d hoped someone, anyone would let slip where Defendor had retired to. Would give a hint as to who he was, what he was doing… but they never did.

“This must be good, for you to come down here yourself,” you scoff as you take a seat at the table before her. The room was arranged like a lecture hall, with a screen at the front for briefing information, and a desk in front of you to take whatever notes you wanted, or to lay out the files in front of you.

“I believed this was a briefing best delivered personally.”

“Is anyone else coming?”

“They should be here shortly.” She sat on a stool at the front of the room, “How have you been?”

“You read my reports.”

“They’re very thorough. I appreciate the dedication to detail.” She tapped the file in front of her, clearly the file in question for today. “But your reports don’t tell me how you are, aside from physically.”

“I pass every psych eval I’m given,” you frown behind your mask, “Why are you prying?”

“You’ll be taking another eval before you leave today.”

Bitching about them never did you any good, so you just cross your arms. “Tell me why.”

It was then that the door behind you opened again, and four men in suits entered, escorting an older man in a blue spandex suit with a red cape, and a red mask… Defendor. He had to be in his 50’s at this point. You could see his red hair had begun to turn white, and he’d clearly gained weight… Spandex was never kind. You didn’t take your eyes off him as he was escorted to a seat at the table next to you. He paused at pulling out the chair next to you, instead moving two seats down, and sitting there.

Alise stood up and took a deep breath, “I am aware that this is going to be an interesting situation for you, Obsidian, but I want you to hear me out, to the end, before you say anything.”

Your eyes snap to her as rage begins to well up in your body. You were conflicted on your choice of still having your broach switched to ‘off.’

The older woman picked up a remote, and turned on the screen behind her, “Crimson Ax has returned, and is wreaking havoc in Oakham. It looks like he has a sidekick now too, someone we haven’t seen before, but it appears she’s an Iron-Skinned type.” Pictures of Crimson Ax and his new protoge flick past your eyes. He still wore the red armor and helmet. She wore similar armor, but didn’t have any missing appendages. She just carried her own ax.

“Does she have a name yet?” You hear your voice leave your throat, but it doesn’t feel like you speaking. You hold your hand out for a file, but don’t feel in control of your own body as you flip it open to find her name at the top of a sheet, “Chopper? She calls herself The Crimson Chopper?!”

“They’ve victimized 4 banks, 3 drug stores, and 6 families in the last 3 days.” Alise’s voice was flat, just providing facts, no opinions. “Crimson has taken out every Hero he’s ever nemesized, except Defendor.”

Your eyes shot to the silent man next to you, and your lip curled, “Sure, because he ran away before he could get killed.”

The disgraced hero just stared into his lap, saying nothing.

“Defendor retired.”

“Was pushed into retirement.” you correct her, still glaring the failed hero down, “What hero, still in perfect health, with an active nemesis, would willingly retire of his own accord?”

Defendor’s wince only confirmed your suspicions.

“How many times did the Agency have to cover up your cowardice?” You growl through grinding teeth.

“Obsidian.” Alise smacked her hand on the desk, breaking your eye contact on him, “Your involvement in this case was requested by me. Do not make me regret that choice. Or I will go get Valkyrie right now.”

You quell yourself and sit back into your chair, “I won’t work with him.”

“You will, because to get close to them, you’ll need to change uniforms.” Alise hit the controller and revealed two uniforms, matching. Blue armored leather suits, one with a red cape, the other with a red skirt. What flair… yours at least came with another cowl, your identity clause required that much. 

“What the fuck are those?” you ask, already knowing the answer, but wanting to release your indignity in some fashion.

“Defendor has returned from retirement to take on the Crimson Ax once more, and his new sidekick, Thundera, will be assisting him.” Alise was not backing down on her plan. “We need Crimson to come to you, on your terms, and he’s only going to be baited by this. Once he follows the two of you into an ambush, coordinated with the Agency, we will drop an entire league of heroes on him at once.”

“Call Valkyrie, I’ll just join the ambush,” you close the file and shove it across the table back towards her.

Alise pinched the bridge of her nose, “She’s harder to disguise as a sidekick.”

“You mean her ego won’t fit in the costume.”

“I’m beginning to question if yours will.” Alise frowns at you. “I need someone who can handle two iron-skins coming at them at once, and hold their own, and potentially defend others. Is that you? Or is that someone else?”

You scoff, “Potentially defend others… you want me to protect him,” you thumb in Defendor’s direction, “May as well change his name to ‘Defended’ while you’re at it.”

“Sending you in as his sidekick, they won’t see you coming.”

You take the file, glaring at her, “I don’t promise they’ll make it to the ambush.”

“I know that.”

You have a reputation for bringing back your villains in a body bag.

“Do… Do I have to do this? Don’t you have someone… active? Who could just… wear the name?” He spoke… for the first time he spoke, and you turned again to glare at him.

“You don’t think Crimson would know if it’s you or not?” Alise crossed her arms, “You owe this to the agency, at the very least.”

He melted into himself and you sneered, contemplating on how well you’d actually defend the great Defendor when the two of you found your quarry.

-------------------------------------

A/N: shameless self plug, but if you'd like to read this in a PDF format, I'll be adding it to my Ko-Fi for $0.10, and I'll take suggestions on where else to post it.

[anyisoleil]

Love beyond disguise  by anyelita (ao3)

in the cloak of night, Ladybug made her preparations. Clad in crimson attire and concealed by the inky darkness, she wasn't known as Marinette anymore but the defendor of the downtrodden's rights. 

With agile moves, Ladybug avoided guards and went on with the first part of her mission: infiltrating the mansion in front of her. It was in the heart of the kingdom, and as it happened with the rest of the royals and most of the elite members of their society, the grand mansion of Baron André Bourgeois and his family stood as a testament to opulence and extravagance while behind its walls, silent injustices festered. The commoners  suffered while those inside their manors truly reveled in their riches in a stark and cruel dichotomy.   Ladybug reached a hand to her waist band for her grappling hook, which proved invaluable as she ascended to the only opening that she found. It was a balcony, who's owner had left open. As she entered the space connected to the balcony, she noticed it was Lady Chloe's room.

Lady Chloe was the Baron's daughter, and she was currently sleeping fitfully, her inner discontent being evident in her restless slumber.. The blonde's once-proud features were now contorted by her inner turmoil. Ladybug couldn't help but think that it maybe was the Bourgeois' wrong doings weighing heavily on Chloe's conscience.

Not having time to waste, Ladybug tiptoed across the ornate chamber, her graceful silhouette moving like a shadow against the moonlit tapestries. She wasn't surprised with the way the space reflected Chloe's pretentious nature, filled with lavish trinkets and elaborate fabrics.  

Once out of the room, Ladybug walked down the long corridor and descended the stairs rapidly but silently. Glancing around, it wasn't difficult for her to know where to go next, since the flickering light of candles showed her where was the person she's looking for.

In his study adorned with gilded tapestries, trappings of wealth and influence,  Baron André counted the vast sum of gold that had been ill-gotten through dubious means. His face, etched with greed, was partially hidden in the shadows of  the dimly lit room.

Ladybug's features scrunched with disgust under her crimson mask as she saw the scene. Not standing it any longer,  with a silent and determined resolve, she unshielded her sword and approached the man  going completely unnoticed until she snatched  the  sack of gleaming coins from his grip. 

The Baron, in a state of shock, turned to see the enigmatic figure that had invaded his study and his home. He swallowed hard, feeling the edge of her sword now pressed dangerously against his neck.

"Your wealth comes at the cost of your people's suffering, Baron André," Ladybug declared, her voice filled with unwavering determination.

Baron André stammered, his words faltering in the presence of this mysterious intruder. "Who... who are you?"

Without hesitation and charged with determination, she replied, "I am Ladybug, I am the voice of the people who have long suffered under the unjust rule of the nobility, and I stand for a better, fairer future for all... a future where justice reigns" she whispered the last, menacingly into his face as her eyes looked with his, cold as cutting ice. 

Baron André whimpered, sinking into his expensive chair adorned with precious gems. If he was going to say something, he was stopped by another voice.

"W-what's happening here?" Chloe said, uttered in a startled tone and standing at the entrance of her father's study , Her voice echoed the confusion and horror that swirled in her mind. Her restless sleep had stirred her awake and an uneasy feeling carried her there.

Not worried in the least with the new presence, Ladybug didn't even flinched and she turn her attention to the blonde, her sword still in place "Your father's wealth is built on the tears of the less fortunate. It's time for justice to be served," She responded, her gaze unwavering.

Baron André panicked more, his voice trembling. "You cannot—"

Before he could utter another word, Ladybug gracefully leaped out of the window, landing on the lower rooftops with the sack of coins in her possession, and she ran to the direction she knew Tikki would be and they disappeared into the moonlit night. 

As Chloe screams  calling the guards, echoed in the mansion, the opulent study bore witness to the tension and realization that the royals unjust reign of wealth had come under threat, and Ladybug had emerged as the symbol of hope for the oppressed, determined to right the wrongs that had plagued the kingdom.

*

It had been a year since that pivotal event that had marked the beginning of her unwavering cause to defend the rights of the downtrodden. The memories of that moment still held a profound place in Ladybug's heart, a constant reminder of the injustices in their kingdom and the commitment she had made to the people who yearned for a brighter, more equitable future.

Now, in the bustling heart of the kingdom, Ladybug crouched on the edge of a tiled roof, her crimson attire blending with the fading light of dusk. Below her, a crowded street stretched, its narrow cobblestone thoroughfare flanked by timber-framed houses and a throng of townsfolk going about their business.

With a flash of determination, Ladybug leaped from her perch, her lithe form gliding through the air. Her trajectory took her high above the street, soaring gracefully between the ancient buildings. As she approached Viscount Cash's imposing carriage at the far end of the street, she seized a taut rope, deftly swinging herself toward her target with the agility of an acrobat.

Having finished collecting the tax payments, the Viscount, arrogant and oblivious to the impending danger, was about to step into his carriage, his ornate attire and ostentatious demeanor drawing the ire of the commoners. His entourage, a group of soldiers, stood at the ready, their swords gleaming menacingly in the fading light.

Ladybug landed with a resounding thud on the roof of the carriage, her masked visage framed by the setting sun. She wasted no time and with the clinking of metal, unsheathed her sword. In a dazzling display of skill and speed, she engaged in a swift and daring fight with the Viscount's guards.

The soldiers expressions of surprise turned into determination as they confronted the masked heroine.

Blows were exchanged, acrobatics unfolded, and the clashing of steel filled the air. Ladybug's fearless resolve was matched only by the loyalty of the viscount's soldiers, who sought to protect their oppressive master. The street became a battleground, the commoners and merchants frozen in astonishment at the unfolding spectacle.

With each deft maneuver and calculated strike, Ladybug fought valiantly against the odds, disarming the soldiers one by one and awakening the fury of the people that were tired of the unfair ruling they had withstood for too long. 

Inspired by Ladybug's courage and determination, the people began to join the fray. They picked up objects from the street—stones, sticks, even a few discarded vegetables—and hurled them at the remaining soldiers, creating chaos and confusion. 

In the midst of the intense skirmish, the commoners clearly couldn't stand by any longer. Everyone grabbed anything they had at hand, ready to aid Ladybug in her fight. One courageous soul wielded a broom, using it as an improvised staff to trip the soldiers and knock their weapons from their hands.

A vendor seized a wooden cart handle, swinging it with surprising dexterity to parry the soldiers' strikes and create an opening for Ladybug. A third, quick-thinking individual hurled spoiled vegetables from a nearby vendor's stall, using the surprise tactic to momentarily disrupt the soldiers formation.

The people's actions were filled with a burning desire for justice. They showed their resolve to stand up, using whatever means they had at hand. With their support and Ladybug's skill, the soldiers, disoriented and outnumbered, found themselves at a disadvantage.

Rapidly, Ladybug found herself surrounded by the last two of Viscount Cash's soldiers that were still standing, their swords drawn and their faces etched with grim determination. 

With a whirlwind of movement, Ladybug launched into the fight. Her sword became a blur of swift strikes, each blow aimed with precision. She deftly parried one soldier's attack, then spun to block the other's incoming strike, her agility reminiscent of a masterful dancer.

The two soldiers fought in tandem, trying to overpower her with their combined strength. Their coordinated attacks forced Ladybug to stay on the move, gracefully shifting and weaving between their strikes. Her crimson attire flowed with her movements, reflecting her unwavering resolve.

As the battle raged on, Ladybug's superior skill became apparent. With a brilliant display of swordsmanship, she deflected one soldier's blow and countered with a precise strike, leaving him crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The second soldier, now realizing the futility of the fight, attempted a desperate lunge. Ladybug, however, was ready. With a swift and precise movement, she disarmed him and sent his sword clattering to the cobblestones as she left him unconscious with one last blow, a testament to her unmatched skill.

As Ladybug stood victorious, the street erupted with a chorus of triumphant cheers. The people, couldn't contain their elation any longer.

Their voices rose in unison, a cacophony of jubilation, gratitude, and hope. People clapped, cheered, and jumped, the sound of their feet hitting the cobblestones being downed by the celebration, their faces lit with joy. Some even lifted their children onto their shoulders to give them a better view of the masked heroine.

Amidst the jubilation, Ladybug acknowledged the people's support with a nod, her mask concealing her identity but not her unwavering commitment to justice. The cheers of the commoners echoed through the street, a resounding declaration that they would no longer bow to the royals abuse.

But there was still a matter to attend, thought Ladybug, facing now the man who the soldiers were guarding.

Viscount Cash, his haughty demeanor finally shattered, stood at the door of his ornate carriage in one last desperate attempt to stop Ladybug and the people. He had watched in shock as Ladybug, the masked heroine of the oppressed, had defeated his soldiers and taken control of the situation. Although he had more soldiers with him this occasion, considering it wasn't the first time this had happened, it was as if no amount of soldiers of their kingdom could stop her. Not, also, when the support she received from the people was growing with tremendous pace.

With sweat glistening on his brow and his fine clothes disheveled, the Viscount's voice quivered as he spoke, "You can't do this! You don't understand the consequences. The kingdom needs this gold for its prosperity!"

The people immediately yelled at him in discontent and were about to attack him but Ladybug,  lifting her free hand up, signaled for them to stop. However, it didn't restraint some of them from throwing spoiled fruits and vegetables at the Viscount, someone even managing to splash him right on the face. To this, the whole street erupted in laughter and mocking remarks.

With a smirk on her red tinted lips, Ladybug's unwavering gaze met the Viscount's. She replied loudly and with conviction, "Prosperity at the expense of the people is no prosperity at all! The gold rightfully belongs to those who have suffered under your unjust taxation!"

The crowd roared euphoric in support to her words and Ladybug lifted her sword once more, the gleaming blade catching the fading light of day. Her resolve was undeniable and with the sharp edge of her weapon now pressing against the Viscount's throat, she ordered with unwavering voice,, "Move away from the gold, Viscount, or face the consequences."

Viscount Cash, his trembling figure more apparent than ever, hastily complied with her command. He stepped away from the door of his carriage, his eyes reflecting a mixture of fear, defeat, and frustration all while he was sure that the people's immediate shout of joy, echoed in the entire kingdom.

With resoluteness, Ladybug grabbed the ill-gotten sack of gold from the carriage. And now with the coins in her possession, the Viscount's power over the situation crumbled.

With a flourish, Ladybug unfurled the sack, and like a beneficent storm, she threw the coins into the air, returning tp the commoners their stolen wealth.

The people, weighed down by the burden of unfair taxation and the whims of the rich and powerful, became a sea of outstretched hands. Their eyes glistened with hope as they scrambled to collect the money that rained down upon them. The sheer contrast between their need and the ostentatious wealth of Viscount Cash and those like him, was stark and palpable.

The scene unfolded with an intensity that could be felt in the very stones of the street. Children laughed and cheered, elderly citizens wept with gratitude, and those who had long endured the unfairness of the aristocracy saw justice in the chaos, shining brighter than ever.

As the last coin descended, Ladybug looked one last time at Viscount Cash, who stood stunned and powerless, his authority unraveled before his eyes. Turning away from him, her voice was a clarion call, quieting the joyful cheers of the onlookers.

"This is but a fraction of what has been taken from you unjustly!" she declared, her words resonating with the collective desire for change. "Remember, together we can reclaim what is rightfully yours!"

And in the midst of that street, a roar of rebellion grew louder and stronger than what it already was, inspired by Ladybug's act of defiance. The balance of power was shifting, and the streets of the kingdom would never be the same again.

*

Right at that moment, on the highest part of the kingdom, where the castle was erected majestically, exuding an air of regal authority, a different contest brewed within.

Prince Adrien's fury flared, and he felt a profound sense of betrayal by his own father. He clenched his fists, his eyes blazing with frustration. "You can't be serious, father! I'm in a relationship with Kagami, and I love her!"

King Gabriel, his demeanor firm, spoke with a tone of authority. "Adrien, your personal feelings cannot outweigh your duty as a prince. Marrying Kagami, the daughter of a samurai, will not bring real benefits to the kingdom, it won't appease our people. It is the commoner I have chosen who can help bridge the gap between us and the people" he added, his expression twisting into an ugly one as he considered "If there is someone to blame is that.. Ladybug" he almost spat "She has sown the seeds of discontent in our kingdom" 

Adrien's anger flared, but he remained silent. Ladybug's actions had opened his eyes to the stark realities of their kingdom, revealing the struggles of the commoners and the injustices they faced. She had given them a voice, but he still lacked the courage to confront his father, to bridge the ever-widening gap between his newfound awareness and the constraints of his royal duty. In silence, his thoughts weighed drowned by the heavy burden of conflicting loyalties and the uncertain path ahead.

"But this girl you shall marry, her family is well appreciated by the people. With your union, Ladybug's attempts will be finally quenched. And i heard your future wife is beautiful, so you should be grateful" Gabriel added matter-of-factly. 

Adrien's frustration mounted, and he felt as though he were being scolded like a petulant child. His jaw clenched, and his voice wavered with indignation as he responded, "Father, you're treating me like a spoiled... like a wayward child! I can't believe you'd make such a decision without considering my feelings or the woman I love. The people matter to me, and it hurts me to think that you believe they do not. There must be another way, a solution that doesn't involve me giving up my own happiness. Maybe if you would just change..."

King Gabriel, however, remained resolute, his expression unyielding. "This is me changing" he said with severity "This marriage is the clear reflection of my desire for there to be reconciliation with our people, but you most understand also, you are not just anyone, Adrien. You are the prince, and your duty is to your people, their benefit, and the harmony of our kingdom. The decision has been made," he stated firmly, leaving no room for further discussion.

Frustration and disappointment etched deeply into Adrien's features as he turned and stormed off from the opulent chamber, heading towards his own quarters. His footsteps echoed in the grand hallways, each step a painful reminder of the ever-widening chasm between his desires and his duty, and a future that now seemed irrevocably altered

Read more at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51278098/chapters/129561820

Ao3 link

[theostrophywife]

hi my loves, i finally got around to making a taglist. if you previously asked to be tagged in any of my fics and you aren't on here, please let me know so i can update this list.

@viradeity @moony-thoughts @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @demirunner @swansworth @heart-defendor @momlo @mali22 @roselensage @searchingford@nessianxgwynriel@azriels-angels@brekkershadowsinger@morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @mattte-black @marina468 @lillithathecathecat @highladyofillyria

[walks-the-ages]

I just remembered that when I was in like, middle school, I had come up with some Alien Mermaid designs for a Stargate SG1 fic I never wrote, and I don't remember allll the details, but I do know they had 4 different genders, and were also like sea horses.

One of the other genders might have been an intermediary between the "male" and "female" -- aka, the "male" and "female" copulated like you would expect, but then the female transferred the fertilized egg/eggs into the Intermediary, and the Intermediary would be the one who was pregnant for however long the gestation time was.

The fourth gender I think was an adaptation that would suddenly develope in the "male", "female" and Intermediary genders depending on the size of the group, where on reaching puberty, they wouldn't turn into their original mature form, and instead grow big, bulky, and spikey, and would become the main protector/defendor of a mated group, which would typically be in groups of four to five.