#he's 'small' and attacks with a weapon and can be parried but he has the frenzied wild element of a beast l

[milli-string]

This is absolutely random, but it has not left my brain. But if P becomes some kind of boss for the players in future Neowiz and Round8 games, I emotionally would not be able to handle it LOL. I cannot imagine having to destroy a character we have bonded from the start of Lies of P.

Like, imagine walking to Hotel Krat, and your objective is to destroy fairytale characters, and all you see is P ready to defend his home, and his health bar appears as you two start to fight. I can't, bro.

I'll do a small doodle concept in the future for this, but guys 😭

Edit:

I feel like P deserves to have 2 phases for his boss fight, mweheh.

I imagine P's fighting style to definitely match with Nameless Puppet, except he's slightly slower. He would be swift and his parry would be the bane of player's existence! Haha! His pulse cells would be annoying af, too. His main weapon would definitely be either the Puppet Saber or the rapier (I'm only going by the promotion stuff).

- His style would definitely be the Path of the Cricket. That would be the recommended path people would go to at the beginning of the game, and I can definitely see that as his canon path (also lore wise. But that's another discussion for another time).

- P's stun animation when he gets tired, I imagine he would spazz out and become stiff with electricity coming out. Probably pant depending on which ending players went with, but I'm hoping the boss would be the Rise of P ending. If so, he would sound incredibly exhausted and hurt.

- P's grab attack would be him using his legion arm, and depending on which arm he uses, he would have different animations for each. (I picture his main legion arms would be puppet strings, fulminis, and Aegis).

He would maybe just grab the player and throw them far, or slam them into the ground, or crush the player as much as he can for a few times and then throwing them lol.

- while using legion arms in normal combat:

His Puppet Strings would catch players if they're too far and maybe include his jumping attack (players would have brief animation window to dodge it maybe), his Fulminis would be for close combat and probably shock players, and Aegis for safe defense and counter attack.

I also thought of Flamberge as well, but idk.

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 16]

Finally, we arrive at my most favourite scene of the entire movie: The battle against Atcham. And my most favorite music, too. Seriously, if you're reading this blog, and hadn't watched the movie yet, what are you doing? At least watch this scene!

Once again, we see Bakara fighting someone who is much older than her and has been to at least a single war.

She has absolutely no element of surprise, and he enters the fight on his own terms, — attacking her from behind, because her reaction time is way worse than his.

Just as in the last confrontation, he dodges and parries her blows. Mostly dodges. He's more agile in air than Kerubim, and gets to his enemy faster. As a trade-off, Kerubim attacked more often in between parrying Julith's blows, because his nunchucks are a sort of ranged weapon.

As already said — she is absolutely no match to him.

There are many implications here: first of all, Atcham may or may not like women. Second of all, he may or may not even have preferences, despite nobody likely wanting him fr.

This info is very important for lore discussions, everyone.

This battle was him playing with her. And he removes her from the battlefield just as nonchalantly as he won.

And here is my most favourite track in the entire movie...

I think 10yo kids have a superpower that lets them detect people's insecurities. That, or he's remembering what Kerubim told him about Atcham.

Interestingly, while his swords seem to be made of wood at a first glance to a person who hasn't watched this movie 20 times like yours truly, these two shots (besides all the sparkles that'll be flying off these swords when they begin fighting...) confirm that it is, very much, not wood. He isn't afraid of accidentally killing a university student, a random idiot, and a ten-year-old.

Judging from Joris's scared-ass face, he is also quite aware of what Atcham coming here with two shiny, sharp swords (currently pointed right at his head), means.

He's putting Joris in his place, here. He's the unarmed 10-year-old. What can he do to him at worst? Cry about it? Scream?

Another part of this is that he needs Joris to come to Julith mostly unharmed, and not missing any limbs. Which will be easier, if he's scared and compliant.

Bad news for Atcham: Joris's response to being belittled is the same as his.

Because this battle goes by very fast, due to Atcham and Joris both being very agile, it is interesting to look at it on a frame-by-frame basis, to see what they're actually doing to one another.

Joris has his hand in a fist. There is a big likelihood that he wasn't grabbing her bell, but punching Atcham, and this hypothesis seems quite likely when one sees how Atcham is thrown in the air by the impact.

Just from this little moment alone, it is probably obvious to Atcham that, despite Joris's age, it will be a very annoying battle at best, and a fair one at worst. But even being aware of this doesn't give him the time to react to Joris's moves.

After being punched in the face by Joris, he drops the bell, but interestingly, despite having all the time to grab it, Joris goes straight for his sword.

He has good priorities. Even if this battle is due to his worries about Lilotte, grabbing her bell and risking losing the opportunity to grab a weapon, would be far more detrimental.

Atcham hits Joris with his head 1-2 times, similarly to the way he will hit Ush in the future. This can point to either him borrowing other classes' techniques (the classic iop headbang), or to him developing this style when he was a child (when you're small, thin, and furless, the best way to defend yourself if some older kids are pinning you down would be to hit them with your head).

Also, interestingly, while Joris aims to hit Atcham with his sword lethally, Atcham keeps parrying his hits by either aiming at Joris's sword, or hitting him with his hands/legs/head. He can't exactly risk killing Julith's kid, — despite the numerous threats.

I had always viewed this scene as Joris's true ascent to adulthood — not hiding, but grabbing a sword, a tool of killing, into his hands, for the sake of whatever family he has left.

Besides that, I also think it is the scene that truly made Atcham and Joris family, — brothers, an uncle and a nephew. Atcham would never have listened to him, much less grow to respect and love him, had Joris not fought back at his insults.

I bet when he was little, Atcham fought back too, just as feverishly. This is something he respects a lot, ad I bet that he blames himself at least a bit for not being strong enough when he was a kid. A very dog-eat-dog mentality.

(puts on tinfoil hat) If Kerubim and Joris's bond is "violence forged through pure love", and then Joris and Atcham's is "pure love forged through violence".

[dragonclaude]

I was thinking more about the Monokumas for my action game AU. Now with some new ideas! (and sakura for size reference)

Because of how many Monokuma parts or scrap metal would be scattered once you beat them, I think it’d be cool if later Monokuma enemies will start using them to become stronger.

More descriptions about each one below!

Ibuki fight: During her stage, the monokumas will be cheering for her in the audience until you move to their part of the battlefield. They then get up and attack you as a pack with regular monokuma attacks but they make louder sounds. Ibukumas with the boomboxes appear sparingly and attack from long range with the loud music coming from the radio.

Mahiru fight: Despite it being a late fight, almost all of the Mahikumas are disruptive/stunners rather than fighters. They will disrupt you with camera flashes, spotlight blinding, false noises to trigger your alerts etc. But also, there is a recurring newspaper monokuma that will come to you at random parts of the story, giving you the latest Newspaper by Mahiru. One such instance that I thought of is depicted in this post.

Hiyoko fight: Could have more yokai inspired designs but I’m not sure which would be the most fitting for a mountain Dojo 😅 These monokumas attack on rhythm to the music in the level and you would have to counterattack on the beat to defeat them. Stronger Hiyokumas need several hits to be destroyed but will be pushed back and resume attacking you on beat yet again.

Teru/Akane fight: There will be a group of monokumas in the back of the room with Teruteru and another group along with Akane in their fight, but all holding similar weapons. Some Akanekumas attack with large kitchen knives, some throw cleavers, some burn you with blowtorches and some carry food for Akane to heal her. The Terukumas meanwhile will lob oil and fire towards you in order to make the battle more dangerous to traverse. If all Akanekumas (and Akane) is defeated, the Terukumas will lunge and attack to stop you from reaching Teruteru.

Armored Beast: This one attached parts of Guard monokumas onto their body. Using their new strength, these monokumas can move huge objects on their own and a pack of them could break down a small building. They would attack by lunging at you and block their weak eye when you attack their front. You would have to find a way to rip off the arm shields or its armored back in order to beat it effectively.

Scrapheap Junk: A junk monokuma that has attached many pieces of scrap from all over the land onto itself. Unlike melded, this monokuma is quicker but only attacks one way at a time.There could be different kinds of scrapheap monokumas that have special parts (ex: one only made of car parts, one only made of furniture etc.) and would have a slightly different attack pattern. But generally, just dodge or parry its attacks then hit it enough to defeat it.

Melded Junk: An amalgamation of many separate half-destroyed monokumas that attached to each other to make a functional robot. They have attacks like every monokuma type in UDG (except ball) and can attack many times at all angles despite being slow moving. They can also bring forth more enemies to attack you with the alarm on their arm. Depending on how many monokumas are operating it, you will have to completely destroy all of the heads from its body to fully defeat it.

Wrecker: A project of remnant Kazuichi. Instead of building a huge monokuma himself, he decides to program many engineer monokumas to collect parts and form a Big Bang Monokuma-sized robot. This one’s purpose is destroying buildings and bunkers to keep tragedy survivors from hiding. Wherever Wrecker goes, engineer monokumas are sure to follow to collect the scrap from its destruction. Also a priority to destroy whenever the future foundation finds one on their radar.

[anothersmilingcrittersau]

What if all of yer lil pp critter guys got into a big ol' fight- who'd win?

EGG- WHAT'YA DOIN HERE---

As for who would win-- it'd be Manny, hands down.

SURE, the others have their advantages-

Kittenergy has his speed and smallness, he has the ability to practically outpace all the others and dodge pretty well, but if it came to fighting his friends?? he'd give up. he can't imagine hurting anyone

Star is too nervous to actually throw a punch, she'd crumple under the pressure and apologize profusely if she DID hurt anyone. though if she were to fight, she could use her knowledge of pressure points to take the others down without much struggle.

Parry would literally be so in, you have no idea. he's participated in street fights for sure and knows all the dirty tricks, but it wouldn't help him win in the end.

Goldi would actually be vehemently against the fights. She'd try to calm everyone down while also keeping Prissy out of the fight. Though with her built in weapon (cough cough* horn *cough) she'd be able to take down at least one person by accident.

SPEAKING OF PRISSY-- she'd take down the other three that aren't Goldi so fast, she has a lot of pent up aggression and frankly, a fight sounds real nice. She'd ultimately lose due to her low stamina though.

Puppylove wouldn't participate- if he did though, he would've ended up the winner. He has the benefit of the doubt and can be mistaken for an easy target. but since he's too shy and wouldn't ever dare hurt his friends, he'd forfeit the fight.

Holly could and would put the others to sleep she'd see the fight and decide 'no. nuh-uh.' and conk everyone out. but assuming she doesn't do that, she could use her sharp claws and teeth to her advantage.

Manny is like-- a wrecking ball. he's stronger and faster than he looks. though with his forever neutral expression and slow-ish movements, you'd never guess that. He talks big game, and it's a crime to not live up to it. at least-- that's how he sees it.

though, this is all hypothetical. they'd never actually fight one another. Hell, Manny saved two of them from being attacked-- he's more of aaaaa-- well, he's that friend that'll beat the shit out of anyone who picks on you that isn't himself.

He's a jerk, he plays pranks but ultimately when you need him, he'll be there. (the other critters don't realize that shhh, don't tell them.)

[dailydragon08]

The Best Thing That’s Ever Happened to Me

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x F!Jedi!Reader (both are older in this fic) Summary: Luke has to face his worst nightmare yet: losing you. A/N: "Remnants" is a series one  shots in no particular order about the budding relationship between you and Luke as he trains you in the ways of the Force. MAJOR ANGST and READER DEATH in this one (I hurt myself with my own writing). Based on a super sad dream I had last night, but I promise there’s a twist that gives it a fluffy ending, cuz I just couldn’t bare torturing Luke too much. Read here on AO3.

You coughed as the surrounding smoke filled your lungs. The Jedi academy on Yavin IV that you and Luke had worked so hard to build over the last few decades was burning and crumbling around you, the smoke turning the usually pretty twilight black. Most of your padawans were dead, and Luke and the son you shared were who knew where fighting for their lives. You could sense their fear and despair through the Force as you fought for your own.

“You don’t have to do this, Jacen!” you screamed as you blocked another blow from your nephew’s lightsaber. You had sensed him turning to the Dark Side a few years ago and although you and Luke had tried as hard as you could to help him, it was to no avail. He had fallen, slowly at first, then faster than you, Luke, or even his parents and sister could catch him. Then he’d just disappeared with a few other padawans, showing up yesterday with what could be considered a small army of Sith and battle droids to wreck what had become your peaceful little home. Although most of his lackeys lay destroyed around you, you still had him to contend with and he’d taken out nearly all of your current students.

Jacen didn’t reply, instead taking wild swings at you with his weapon. As you parried another blow, you could see his now yellow eyes glower at you, his teeth bared as if he wanted to reach out and bite. You could feel the hatred flowing through him and continued to defend yourself, having trouble summoning the courage to land a blow. You and Luke had tag-teamed to train him from the time he was seven and you had so many good memories: hand-drawn birthday cards, staying up all night making pastries with him when the nightmares became too much, taking breaks to play with him and Grogu, him hugging you tightly around you middle after giving him flying lessons with a heartfelt, “I love you, Y/N.”

“The Jedi,” Jacen panted, pushing your saber closer to your chest with his own, “need to fall.”

“We can help you—” You cried out as Jacen used the Force to launch you into an already crumbling wall. Your weight toppled what was left as you landed with a thud. You slowly sat up, the ache in your old joints a development in the last ten years that you weren’t a fan of. A brick landed hard on your head, making you fall back flat on your back.

Before you could register what was happening, Jacen Solo was on top of you. Searing pain exploded in your abdomen and you gasped, suddenly feeling like all the air had been sucked out of you, and lay there in shock. Jacen’s golden eyes suddenly turned sad, returning to the familiar brown you knew so well.

His lower lip trembled as he stared down at the saber arcing through your stomach. “I…I’m s-sorry.” He took a shuddery breath before turning off his saber and letting it fall to the ground, his hands hovering over your wound as you continued to gasp for air beneath him. “Wait…Wait, I didn’t mean—”

“Y/N!!!” Luke’s scream tore through the air and rippled through the Force in the distance. You felt the power roll off of him in waves and weren’t sure what he was doing, but it was apparently enough to scare the daylights out of your attackers.

A fellow Sith suddenly grabbed Jacen’s shoulders and yanked him out of your field of vision. “We have to go now!”

Unable to move, you heard the sound of several departing ships before seeing them race towards the planet’s atmosphere. All you were left with was the crackle of the flames. You closed your eyes for a minute, trying to take in a deep breath and failing, until you heard the sound of feet sprinting towards you.

You were lifted against a chest and registered your husband’s familiar smell. Your name came out on a shuddery exhale as his flesh hand lifted your face to look at his. He glanced down at your wound and tears filled his eyes. “Maker, no,” he breathed. His breath carried a welcome coolness to your overheated face and you ran a hand through his graying hair, still as soft as ever, before letting your fingers scratch at his beard. His blue eyes met yours, their spark unchanged by the years, but you could see the panic crawling behind them.

“Ben—” you breathed out.

“He’s safe with Grogu,” Luke answered, his voice cracking as he cradled you in his lap. He pressed his forehead to yours and you could feel him reaching deep into the Force for the healing power your little green padawan had taught you long ago. But you both knew it was too late as sounds around you started to fade and several white spots appeared in your vision.

“Don’t…” you took a shuddery breath in, feeling tears fill your own eyes as well, “don’t go to the Dark Side. Promise me.”

“Y/N—”

“Promise me.”

He stared at you for a moment, tears opening falling down his face and creating streaks in the dirt and sweat. “I promise.” He kissed you hard with salty lips before his shoulders began to shake and a strangled sob tore from his throat.

You brushed the tears away with weak, shaking fingers. “I love you so much, Luke.”

Luke kissed you again, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you, too. You and Ben are the best things that ever happened to me.” He pressed you closer to his chest and you could feel his devastation through the Force. You reached for Ben and felt similar despair and could sense he and Grogu were running towards you as fast as they could, but were still so far away. I love you and am proud of you, you sent to all three of them through the Force. And I will always be with you.

“I’ll find you through the Force again,” you whispered against Luke’s lips.

He nodded. “We’ll be together again one day…” His breath shuddered out as he pulled back to look at you, tears streaming down his face like a waterfall. His blue eyes were bright were more to come as he began, “I’m sorry—”

“Shhh,” you said, rubbing your thumbs back and forth across his cheeks as his hand fisted in your hair. “It’s not your fault…Take care of Ben and Grogu for me—and don’t forget yourself…I love you, Luke.” The last thing you saw was your husband’s face crumbling in a wail and felt his keen through the Force as your vision went white and suddenly, you couldn’t feel anything at all.

Six months later, Luke left your favorite flowers at your grave, still feeling torn in two—

 A loud crash jerked Luke out of his slumber and he bolted upright in bed, panting. He looked around the dark room and recognized the bedroom he shared with you in the small, stone house on Yavin IV. He looked at his wrinkle-free hands and felt the smooth sides of his face before swinging his legs out of bed and bolting for the refresher. Flipping the light on, he sighed in relief at the shorter, brown hair staring back at him. He grabbed the edge of the sink and breathed a sigh of relief.

That relief was short-lived as he glanced over to the bed, expecting to see your sleeping form still curled up. You really could sleep through anything—except you weren’t there.

Panic gripped Luke’s chest and he could feel his breath becoming harder to reach. He rushed out of the bedroom and down the hall to where he heard movement from the kitchen. His chest slammed into yours as you also fled out the door to meet him halfway down the hall, letting out a muffled oof.

“Sorry,” you said just as he reached out to steady you so you wouldn’t fall. “Are you o—”

You let out another noise of surprise as Luke crushed you against his chest, burying his face in your neck. He took a deep breath, the first he felt he could take, as he inhaled the sweet scent of your skin, gathering your hair in his hands like coveted silk. “M-maker,” he stuttered out into your skin, holding you even tighter.

You held him equally as tight. “I can feel you panicking. What happened?”

Luke turned his head slightly so he could speak, forcing himself to register that you were alive, well, and warm in his arms. “A nightmare. I lost you and when I woke up and you weren’t there, I thought…” He forced himself to exhale, his breath blowing your hair.

“You’re shaking.” You rubbed your hands in gentle circles on the bare skin of his back. “I’m okay. You’re okay. Grogu’s okay.”

He frowned. “How do you know—”

“Your panic was strong. I saw some of the dream, but just the end.”

He finally pulled back to look at you, cradling your face reverently between his hands. “And the baby?”

“Ben’s asleep.” You glanced at his dark bedroom just a few doors down before turning back to your husband, cupping his wrists in your hands. “I just fed him. That’s why I was in the kitchen, putting the bottle away.”

Luke sighed and nodded, pressing a searing kiss to your lips, two more to each cheek, and one to your forehead before pulling you against his chest. He held you more gently this time, resting his cheek against your hair. “You don’t think I woke Grogu or the other students up, do you?”

You shook your head against him as his arms snaked around your middle, letting one of yours rest across his strong shoulders while the other traced the scars from the emperor’s Force lightning that littered his torso, arms, and lower neck. He sighed at the feeling. “I only know because I know you so well.” You paused, soaking in the feeling of being wrapped up in him. “I love you.”

“I love you, sweetheart, so much,” he breathed, letting the relief finally wash over him. He twisted to look at you and allowed himself a small smile before kissing your lips again, committing their taste to memory. Then, just in case he didn’t tell you enough, added, “You and Ben are the best things that have ever happened to me. I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

You smiled. “Me, too. But we should try to get some sleep before Ben wakes up again. He’ll probably get hungry again in a few hours.”

“You have bottles in the fridge?”

You nodded, closing your eyes as he pressed another kiss to your forehead. You two stayed in each other’s arms with your sides pressed together as you led him back to the bedroom, sending a strong wave of affection to him through the Force. It was reciprocated to you tenfold, along with a promise to protect and spend the rest of your long, hopefully Sith-free lives together.

[thevikingwoman]

A small gift for @galadae! I love Cala and Hien so much, and had to write this little scene. I hope you enjoy, my friend 💕

thank you so much for your support of my own brainrot 😔

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV | Words: 527 | Read on Ao3

Calantha Lenn x Hien Rijin | romance Ranting: T. Fluff, established relationship, sparring

Stress Relief

Calantha is somewhere between aggravated, alarmed and saddened – not that she perhaps would use those words herself. She mostly just finds herself weary, and glad she has the time to see Hien, her stress lifting as soon as she sat foot in the Kienkan. Even if she does, perhaps, slam the shoji open with more force than strictly necessary.

“Calantha!” Hien looks up from the scroll he’s been reading, and smiles at her. She doesn’t even resist the urge to smile back, some of her annoyance dissipating at the sight of him. “How you are you?”

“Fine,” she replies. Really, she is. “And you?”

Hien nods, rolls up his scrolls and stands. “To be forthright, I need to stretch my legs – too many missives today.”

He reaches for her, and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

“Do you care to spar, Calantha? I could use the exercise.”

Calantha considers. She is tired, but restless.

“Not afraid I will injure your pride?”

“We will see.”

~

They warm up both of them, the luxury of having time to stretch and not rushing into battle. Calantha picks a simple lance, and Hien a training katana.

“Ready?” Hien asks, and Calantha realizes she is more than, bouncing on her feet, restlessness winning over her tiredness.

Hien charges her, and she jumps, avoiding his swing. It’s a rush next; attack and dodge, weapons connecting, retreat and attack, strike and parry. She thinks she gets a hit in or two, but Hien doesn’t flinch and presses on, likewise managing a strike on her, the blunt weapon striking across her thigh.

Hien grins at her, and presses his advantage, but Calantha flips out of his way, landing solidly in the empty training yard. She wipes sweat off her brow, and their dance begins anew. Now, Calantha takes the time to assess the battlefield, determined not to let Hien get the upper hand. She knows his fighting style, as well as he knows hers. Considering, she vaults back when he advances, twisting herself to avoid crashing into a training dummy. Hien advances again, his gaze blazing, almost like a physical caress.

It wouldn’t serve to get distracted now. She goes on the offense, thrusting her lance with a renewed fierceness. Thrust and counter. Thrust and counter.  When Hien takes a step back, she presses, and jumps.

Calantha has him against the wall, the tip of her lance pressed against his throat. She looks down at him with a feral smile, and Hien swallows and licks his lips.

“You got me, Calantha.”

She breathes out, a hard puff, and tosses her lance to the ground.

“And your pride?”

“Hale and well.” He drops the katana, and puts his hands around her waist. “You did not have me on the ground.”

She bends her head and kisses him, hard and rough at first, but she slows when he melts under her, giving and giving and giving. Calantha feels much less tired and far more calm when they finally break the kiss apart, and she pulls him as close as she can.

“I think you tricked me,” she says.

Hien smiles into her collarbone.

“Did, I now?”

[ggomos-maribat]

A Message Has Arrived

Part 1 of Heirs Apparent | AO3

Masterlist

He could feel the claws of his memories gripping his throat.

The heat of the air around them. The metallic tang assaulting his senses. Cuts adorning the skin of his palms, pressed against the hilt of his weapon. His feet screaming. His entire body screaming as his mind calculated the next move. Push, dodge, parry, step, attack, STOP.

Danny awoke in a start, drenched in cold sweat and limbs tight and stiff and unmoving. He didn't need to look in the mirror to know that his eyes were already glowing a toxic green.

He unlatched himself from the covers, breathing heavily. It was just a dream. His thoughts drifted away while he absentmindedly shuffled to the kitchen. It wasn't just a dream. It was his past calling back to him as if some fateful event was lurking around the corner.

And that's what he feared.

He fetched himself a full glass of water which he downed in seconds. And another. And another.

Until he heard footsteps.

"Danny, are you okay?" Jazz flicked the rest of the lights on, looking at him with concern.

Danny glanced at the clock. Four a.m. He couldn't even get a peaceful night of sleep.

"I'm okay," he replied hoarsely.

His sister glided towards him to put a gentle hand on his back. She was probably thinking that his responsibilities and the ghostly matters were plaguing him. He'd prefer that she remained under that impression.

Danny ran a hand through his face. I won't be able to sleep again. Not after that.

"I'm going out for a walk."

Jazz's eyebrows furrowed. "But it's still dark outside."

He forced out a smile, just a small one to shave off some of her worry. "It's not like the ghosts can bother me."

Jazz agreed with voiced reluctance and Danny immediately grabbed a hoodie to wear outside. He rubbed the remnants of his sleepiness away from his eyes, squinting down the dimly-lit path.

He couldn't remember what prompted the dreams to come back. Maybe it was the inevitable stress of his new title, or a subconscious alarm bell for what's to come. He desperately hoped it wasn't the latter. At first, he contemplated taking his phone out but decided against it, not wanting to make a call without a purpose.

He stopped at one of the barren streets of Amity Park as he noticed a white speck moving down the road.

The speck grew—morphed—into a white truck, tinted windows. And when it passed by him, he felt like he was back in his dream again, frozen and afraid.

There was something written on the side of the vehicle. A symbol. He only caught a glimpse of it but the message, catered to him and him only, was unmistakable. His gaze darted towards his house but the truck made a sharp turn before it reached the block.

They narrowed down my location, he guessed, but not my exact location. That truck would likely parade around the city, appearing normal to everyone aside from the one person it was actually meant for.

He ran a short list through his mind: names of people who could've been senders.

Regardless of who it was from, he knew he had to leave as soon as possible.

---

A person's body was their own weapon.

Damian knew that well. He kept the thought in mind as he blocked another underhand strike from his opponent. His feet jumped across the padded mat before he lowered himself into crouch to swipe his leg. Unfortunately, the attack was avoided well and he had to switch to defense once more.

Their movements were fluid but painfully familiar to him. He clenched his jaw and threw out another punch which Cass immediately turned to work in her favor. Damian lost balance for a split second but recovered just as quickly.

And he knew he was being studied. Observed. And he didn't like that. Her gaze on him pierced his very soul and he could only compose himself so he didn't show too much emotion.

She struck with a sharp blow to the abdomen, folding his body from the impact. Damian moved back as far as he could with a renewed fire in his chest.

He charged at Cass again and sent them into a fighting stalemate. Fists and kicks flew, breaths shortened, heat reigned. Damian took a deep breath, paused for a moment and—

She had flipped him on his back as soon as he blinked.

Cass stood over him with a triumphant expression. Damian gave his usual 'Tt', accepting her helping hand, and hauled himself back on his toes.

She hadn't stopped watching him.

Damian side-eyed his sister as he drank big gulps of water and wiped his sweat. He raised his eyebrow as if to ask: 'What?'

"You," Cass started, "You're used to fighting small."

Damian pursed his lips. A lie was futile in front of her, yes, but telling the truth wasn't favorable. "Of course I am. I have been trained to fight all sorts of people."

"Hmm," she hummed, unconvinced. Of course she knew that wasn't the end of the story.

"Don't think too much about it, Cain." He scowled. "I'm going back upstairs. Thank you for the spar."

He marched to the elevator, set on leaving the message that he didn't want to be bothered. The ache in his bones amplified as soon as he let himself lean against the glass. He didn't want to welcome the rush of nostalgia from the League but it kept resurfacing like waves brushing the shore.

He headed straight to his bedroom, knowing Alfred the Cat was most likely waiting for him inside.

What he didn't expect was the letter.

It was a browned paper folded on top of his desk.

It wasn't there before.

Damian slowly opened the letter, already expecting the worst from it. His fingers tightened around its edges as he read the encrypted message carefully.

---

"What's wrong with you?"

She slowly raised her head to meet the fuming eyes of the blonde. Chloe towered over her sitting form, arms folded and pink-tinted lips curled into a disappointed frown.

Marinette closed her sketchbook. "What do you mean?"

"You've been avoiding Adrien. I don't know with you and your obvious commitment issues, but you need to talk to the boy," Chloe snapped. Marinette felt an incoming headache. Once again, as what was common in her life, this was a case of misunderstanding.

"I will. Soon," she replied brusquely.

A sigh sounded out as her friend sat down next to her. "I thought it would be all okay after you finally revealed your identities to each other. You'd talk it out, tie up loose ends, and kiss and make up."

"Excuse me, our what?" Goosebumps littered all over Marinette's skin, and her hand flew to the pouch carrying her kwami.

"Secret identities. I mean, Adri came home muttering your name and 'Ladybug' over and over again." While Chloe rambled, Marinette's gaze darted around the school courtyard in case there were unfortunate eavesdroppers.  "Of course, like the genius I am, I figured it out. But that's not the point. The point is, what are you so afraid of Dupain-Cheng?"

Painkillers. I need painkillers. She clenched her jaw. Now, there was one too many who knew about her double life. "I just don't want to hurt Adrien," she began. "I'll talk to him, sure, but I'll still be keeping my distance."

The silence from Chloe told her all of the unspoken questions. What will happen to your dynamic? Don't you think your distance will hurt him even more? Isn't that selfish of you?

"I don't understand," Chloe mumbled after a long while.

"Adrien wasn't here yet before." Marinette rubbed her arm. "Do you remember what I was like when I first came here?"

"Quiet. You were really quiet. But that one time a kid got too close to you, you lashed out. You were so . . . guarded."

"There's just things about my past that might affect our relationship." All of my relationships for that matter. Stupid trauma. "I think it's healthier for both of us not to be involved in anything just yet."

"And in the future?"

The 'future' was always a foreign concept to Marinette, clearly, because she'd lived her life ready to lose the next day. Why think about the future when there's too much uncertainty for tomorrow? She never cared. She didn't need to.

"I don't know," she swallowed, whispering her answer. "I don't know, Chloe."

After a tight squeeze on her shoulder, Chloe left the bench perhaps to relay the vaguest message to Adrien. Marinette slumped on her seat, trying to cram the contents of Pandora's box of memories back into her mind. She tried to pick up where she left off in her laughable sketch when she felt her purse opening.

Tikki held up a folded piece of paper to her.

Marinette froze.

"Since when was this in here?" She took the paper into her fist.

"This morning," Tikki squirmed. "I'm sorry, I was sleeping earlier, I didn't know who put it inside."

Marinette opened up the note, already expecting the worst. "Do you think they saw you?"

Her kwami's words were drowned out when she made a quick scan of the words. Merde.

It was the League's summon. 

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[ironwoman359]

A Thief's Gamble - Ch.7

A Dampened Pursuit

Prev: Ch.6 - Unhindered Insights || Next: Ch.8 - Caught Red Handed Fic Masterpost

Fic Summary: Brynjolf is certain that the only way the Thieves Guild will return to its glory days is by bringing in new, talented members. Unfortunately, Mercer doesn't agree, and it's not like Brynjolf's latest attempts at recruiting have gone well. But when he meets a stranger in the marketplace one morning, he's willing to take the risk and bring her on board....only time will tell if his gamble pays off.

Chapter Summary: Brynjolf's gamble on Ariene bringing the Guild profit has paid off so far, but now he must consider whether he's willing to make a far riskier gamble...and instead of his coinpurse, it's his heart on the line.

Content: Brynjolf POV, Thieves Guild quest spoilers, game typical violence.

Ships: Brynjolf x Dragonborn OC (slowburn)

Word Count: 3,905

Check the reblogs for a link to read on AO3!

— — — 

“There’s two things you need to understand about daggers,” Brynjolf said.

He and Ariene stood opposite each other in the training room, each with their weapons drawn. Brynjolf wielded the two dwarven blades that Gallus had given him, and Ariene was holding her orcish dagger in one hand and a small steel blade she’d borrowed from Cynric in the other.

“First, they have a short reach.” 

He swung his left arm out slowly in demonstration, and Ariene’s eyes carefully followed the arc of his blade. They were standing close enough to each other that if it had been a sword Brynjolf was holding, it would have sliced into the front of her armor, but the dwarven dagger cleared her by at least a foot. 

“That means that to use them effectively, you need to get in close.” Brynjolf continued. “And second, if you want to stay alive, you need to move fast. There's only so much you can block or parry with a dagger, so dodging is your best shot when it comes to dealing with your opponent’s attacks.”

Ariene nodded. 

“Dodging, I can do,” she said. “And fortunately, most fighters using swords or axes won’t be used to handling such close combat. But as for moving effectively with these?” She held out the weapons she was holding. “That’s where I need some help.”

“Alright then, let’s start with some practice on the dummies, just so I can see what we’re working with.” Brynjolf said. 

He walked her through some basic moves, which he was pleased to find she picked up quickly. He could tell she wasn’t used to using two blades at once, but she’d clearly used a dagger before, at least with her right hand. It wasn’t long before they switched from practicing on the dummies to sparring with each other, so that Ariene could try the moves on an opponent who reacted in real time. 

“That’s good, lass,” he said after she pulled off a particularly tricky maneuver that involved using both daggers at once to trap his sword arm and twist his weapon out of his grasp. “Just remember that if you’re fighting someone with a longer blade, you need to be sure you’re aware of their reach. Let’s try that again.” 

They ran the move a few times in a row, each time Brynjolf offering slight adjustments to her form. 

“I know it’ll get easier with practice,” Ariene said, panting slightly with exertion. “But I’m still having such a hard time getting used to this.” 

She waved the steel dagger in her left hand, and Brynjolf nodded. 

“Aye, I can tell,” he said, eyeing the way she held the weapon.

Her stance and footwork was decent enough, and she’d already improved significantly over the last hour, but the blade in her left hand still looked awkward and out of place, and overall she lacked the physical confidence he’d seen from her when she held her bow.

“Here,” he said, stepping closer and turning slightly so that she could see his hands better. “For a forward grip, you want to hold that at more of an angle, see?” 

“Like this?” 

“Better,” Brynjolf said. He sheathed his right dagger and reached out, taking Ariene’s hand and shifting it further. “But put your thumb closer to the hilt, so...you…” 

He trailed off, realizing what he’d done a split second too late. He was suddenly aware of their proximity, of their shoulders pressing together, of the warmth of Ariene’s hand beneath his own. As Brynjolf adjusted her grip, his fingers brushed over the skin between her thumb and forefinger, which was rough and hard from years of holding her bow. He knew that if he were to examine her other hand, there would be more calluses on her fingertips from her bowstring, and he found himself imagining what those fingertips would feel like against his own skin.  

Ariene had gone still beside him, and Brynjolf wondered if the quickened pulse he could feel beneath his hand was her heartbeat or his own. 

“So I…?” Ariene prompted, her voice low, and Brynjolf swallowed.

“So you don’t lose control of the blade,” he finished, shifting her hand one final time. 

He could have let go then. 

He’d never wanted to do anything less.

He slowly looked up from the weapon held between them to find Ariene staring at their joined hands. She glanced up at him, and his breath caught in his throat. Her eyes were as deep and blue as two sapphires nestled in a jewelry case, and somehow even more tempting.  

“Would losing control really be so terrible?” she breathed. 

Brynjolf couldn’t help it, his eyes flitted to her lips, just for a moment. When he met her gaze again, there was a glint in her eye that told him she’d seen him look, and that she was more than fine with it. 

He wasn’t in the habit of mixing business with pleasure; it seemed no matter how he looked at it, it was asking for trouble. But then again, life in Skyrim could be short, as Ariene herself had said. The life of a thief, even shorter than most. 

“I don’t know, lass,” he murmured. “But I suppose there’s only one way to find out.” 

Brynjolf let himself lean forward, Ariene’s eyes fluttered closed, and– 

“I knew it!” 

Ariene let out a yelp, and the two of them jerked apart so fast that Brynjolf’s hand slipped on the dagger that they still were holding between them. 

“Damn!” he hissed as the blade slid through his flesh, drawing a thin red line across his forefinger. 

“Vipir!” Ariene was shouting, and when Brynjolf glanced her way her face was beet red, though from anger or embarrassment he couldn’t tell. “Get out!” 

“I knew it!” Vipir repeated, a gleeful grin plastered on his face. “I told Niruin that the two of you were making eyes at each other, but that stubborn elf wouldn’t listen to me! ‘There’s no mistaking the look on Bryn’s face,’ I told him. ‘He’s got it bad for sure.’ But did he believe me? No, wait until he hears I was right–” 

“Vipir!” Ariene yelled. “I said OUT!” 

“Hey, I just came to practice my shooting,” he said, raising his hands. “It’s not like this is your private room, you know. I need to keep my own skills sharp too.” 

“Use the targets in the cistern, lad,” Brynjolf growled. “We’re busy.” 

“Busy training,” Ariene added quickly. “And I’d hate for there to be an accident because somebody was being distracting.” 

She held up the steel dagger, a red drop of Brynjolf’s blood on the blade’s edge glinting in the torchlight, but Vipir seemed unfazed by the thinly veiled threat.

“Sure, sure,” he said with a smirk. “I would hate to get in the way of your training, it seems as though it was going very well before–” 

“VIPIR!” Brynjolf and Ariene roared in unison, and Vipir finally retreated, still chuckling to himself as he left. 

Ariene let out a loud sigh as soon as he was gone.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she muttered, and Brynjolf huffed.

“Not if I beat you to it, lass.”  

He turned his hand, examining the cut running across his finger, and Ariene sucked in a breath. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s alright, lass,” Brynjolf said quickly. “The cut’s not deep. I suppose it’s what I get, for getting distracted around a blade like that.” 

Ariene smiled, but the expression looked forced, as though she were concealing an injury of her own. 

“I guess it turns out losing control can be dangerous after all,” she said with a half-hearted laugh. 

Brynjolf just managed to hold back a wince, and forced his voice to remain even as he spoke. 

“If you’ve changed your mind, lass, then I won’t–”

“No, it’s not that,” Ariene said quickly. 

A faint blush that made her look ridiculously pretty rose to her cheeks, and Brynjolf realized that Vipir’s assessment about him may have been more accurate than he thought.

“It’s just, well. Vipir isn’t wrong, there’s not really a lot of privacy down here,” Ariene continued, her voice somewhat sheepish. “And I don’t know about you, but I’d rather avoid a repeat of what just happened.” 

“Agreed.” 

“So…let’s just stick to business for now,” she suggested. “Anything else can wait until we find a time we can actually be alone.” 

Brynjolf nodded. 

“Very well, lass.” He reached for the daggers on his belt, then winced as the cut across his finger rubbed awkwardly against the hilt. “Though I don’t know how well I’ll be able to train you until this heals,” he added, holding up his hand. 

“Here,” Ariene said, stepping forward. 

She wiped the blade of her dagger against her arm guard, leaving a small streak of his blood on the well worn leather before sheathing the weapon and holding out her hand. 

“Hold still,” she instructed.

She took a deep breath, then to Brynjolf’s amazement, a glowing ball of light burst to life in her hand. She made a pushing motion towards him, and a pleasant heat enveloped his entire body. The warmth quickly focused in on his hand, and before his eyes his skin began to knit back together, leaving nothing but a faint pink line behind where the cut had been. The light disappeared with a final flurry of sparks, and Brynjolf raised an eyebrow at Ariene. 

“Are you ever going to stop surprising me, lass?” he asked, and Ariene smiled.

“I hope not,” she said. “Where would be the fun in that?” 

— — — 

As much as he wanted to find some alone time right then and there, there was still a Guild to be run, and with Mercer out on business Brynjolf had even more responsibility than usual. After another twenty minutes or so of showing Ariene a few more dagger techniques, Brynjolf left her to practice on her own and made his way into the cistern to start the day’s work. 

He did a quick read through of the Guild’s ledgers, noting with some pride that their finances had improved significantly in the past month or so. While he couldn’t say it was all thanks to Ariene’s efforts, the lass’s success had undoubtedly rubbed off on everyone. Thrynn, Rune, and Sapphire were all out on jobs, and for once having so many Guildmembers in the field at once didn’t make his stomach churn with anxiety. 

Brynjolf turned to the stack of unread messages on his desk, settling down to sort through the mess. There was a note of thanks from a satisfied client, a tip off about a shipment of rare alchemy ingredients that would be passing through the Rift soon, a request for a rare item to be acquired for a shady collector, all fairly normal things.

Brynjolf did raise a curious eyebrow at a job offer from a silversmith Markarth. Sure, the Guild was growing again, but it was still surprising to get a letter from so far west. The Reach wasn’t exactly peaceful these days, and the city of stone could be a dangerous one to get caught in. Markarth was the one place that Brynjolf didn’t necessarily mind not having a stronger foothold; it was just so risky.

Still, the city’s silver mines meant a wealthy upper class, and a wealthy upper class meant riches ripe for the picking, and with the backing of an influential merchant in the hold, maybe some of that risk could be mitigated. Brynjolf put the letter in a pile along with the tip about the alchemy shipment and the item request for Vex and Delvin to dole out to the Guildmembers later. 

There was also a letter from a Dunmer named Ravyn Imyan, who claimed to have experience and skills that would be of value to the Guild. Brynjolf preferred to meet a recruit in person before bringing them on board, but he couldn’t deny that accepting more members now would be a sure fire way to actually keep them. As Mercer was only too fond of reminding him, Brynjolf’s efforts at recruitment in the past few months had been less than successful, at least until Ariene had come along. 

Two of the last three footpads Brynjolf had tried to bring on board had flaked out in less than two weeks, both citing the Guild’s meager state as the reason for their departure. The third probably would have stuck around at least a little longer, had he not been caught red-handed on his first solo heist. He hadn’t been able to wriggle his way out of a conviction, and as far as Brynjolf knew, the poor fool was still in the Falkreath prisons. He’d suggested to Mercer that they send Cynric to break the lad out, but ultimately, the Guildmaster had ruled it a pointless risk and waste of resources. 

The last letter on his desk was short, barely a page long. It was a response to a message that Brynjolf had sent nearly three weeks ago to Gissur, a man who had fallen on hard times and briefly made his home in the Ratway. In his time in the sewers, Gissur had grown close with Etienne, a Guildmember who’d had a habit of keeping up with the beggars and miscreants in town in a “you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” type of way. 

Etienne had gone out on a simple job two weeks ago now, and had vanished into thin air. 

Mercer, ever the optimist, insisted that the Breton had simply abandoned the Guild as many other members had done over the past few years, but Brynjolf didn’t buy it. The lad’s belongings were still by his bunk, and if he was going to desert, Brynjolf would have thought he’d at least return to collect them and take the payment for his last job. 

Reaching out to Gissur had been Brynjolf’s last ditch effort to see if he could track the lad down, but the response was less than promising. The beggar claimed to have not seen Etienne at all since even before he disappeared, leaving Brynjolf with no other leads as to his whereabouts. 

Brynjolf shook his head and sighed. The last thing he wanted to do was write the lad off, especially now that the Guild was getting back on its feet, but it was starting to look like there wasn’t any other choice. Maybe Mercer was right and Etienne had simply left for greener pastures. If so, he might still return if the word reached him that the Guild was regaining strength. 

Yawning, Brynjolf got to his feet and stretched. He had planned to spend a few hours at his stall in the market this afternoon, and he needed to make sure his next batch of “Falmer Blood elixir” was ready to be sold. 

Obviously there wasn’t any real Falmer Blood in the elixir, just some muddled snowberries and blue mountain flowers that had been boiled to Oblivion and back, producing a liquid that reminded Brynjolf vaguely of the bitter tea his Ma used to make him drink when he was sick. The mixture had no real significant effects on the drinker, but it was overall a more palatable experience than his “Wisp Essence” had been, which had resulted in more sales and fewer complaints about the elixir’s benefits not materializing as promised. 

Brynjolf headed into the Ragged Flagon, where Vekel, ever reliable, had a crate of bottles waiting for him, along with a quick lunch of roasted pheasant and a crust of bread. 

“That batch used up the last of the mountain flowers I had,” he informed Brynjolf as he poured him a tankard of ale. “So you either need to cook up another scheme or request more ingredients for this one before Tonilia puts in her next supply order for the tavern.” 

Brynjolf thought about it. On the one hand, it could be risky, running one scam for too long. As good as his salesmanship was, people would eventually catch on to the fact that the elixir was little more than cold tea. On the other hand, people were still buying for now, and the ingredients for this little venture were even cheaper to acquire than the nirnroot had been for the Wisp Essence. 

“Go ahead and have the lass order some,” he decided. “If we end up not using it, we can always pawn the excess off onto Ingun Black-Briar. If she can’t make use of it, she’ll know someone who can.” 

Vekel nodded and Brynjolf began to eat his lunch, but it wasn’t long before he caught the look in the barkeeper’s eye. Sighing, he put down his fork and shot him a pointed look. 

“What is it, Vekel?” 

The two had known each other long enough to not waste time on pleasantries, so Vekel didn’t hesitate. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Brynjolf.”

“As long as people are willing to keep buying, then I don’t see why I shouldn’t–” 

“I’m not talking about your elixir,” Vekel interrupted. “I’m talking about the girl.”  

Brynjolf froze, then he sighed and took a long drag from his tankard. 

“Vipir’s going to wish he’d never been born,” he grumbled, and Vekel laughed. 

“Vipir may have caught you in the act–”

“I don’t know what the lad told you, but nothing even happened,” Brynjolf insisted, but Vekel just continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

“–but I didn’t need him to tell me what I already knew. It’s obvious to anyone who knows you that you’ve taken a shine to her.” 

Brynjolf frowned. 

“I’m not a child, Vekel, I don’t need permission from you to pursue the lass.” 

“I know, I know,” Vekel said, folding his arms. “Just, take it from me. Getting involved with anyone in this line of work can get…complicated. Especially with you being her superior. At some point…” he paused, and shook his head. “Business interests and personal interests could clash.”

Brynjolf raised an eyebrow at that. 

“You’re not still mad about that little misunderstanding with Tonilia, are you? I thought we’d cleared that up, I swear to you it wasn’t what you thought it–” 

“It’s not that, Bryn.” Vekel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar and lowering his voice. “It’s– look, you know how Ton is. She’s independent, headstrong, tenacious, which are all things that make her good at what she does. And don’t get me wrong, I love that about her, but at times? It can make things difficult. The traits that can make someone a great thief…they don’t always make someone a great partner.” 

Brynjolf took a bite of his meal, chewing slowly to give himself time to mull over his old friend’s words. He washed the pheasant down with another gulp of ale, then looked Vekel in the eye, a slight smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

“Are you telling me that you don’t think Tonilia’s worth the effort?” he asked.

Vekel let out a huff of breath that was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. 

“Very clever, Bryn,” he said. “You know damn well I think she is.” He straightened and turned, grabbing a broom that was leaning against the wall behind him. He looked back at Brynjolf and raised a single eyebrow. “I just wonder if you’ve asked yourself the same thing.” 

He slipped out from behind the bar, leaving Brynjolf to ponder the question alone. 

On the one hand, of course Vekel would say Tonilia was worth it. The two had been an item for so long that Brynjolf couldn’t recall exactly when they’d gotten together in the first place. Meanwhile, he’d barely known Ariene a month; it was hardly a fair comparison. 

But on the other hand, despite how long they’d been together, Vekel and Tonilia still had more than their share of problems. Problems that Brynjolf knew went deeper than the little scandal he’d accidentally caused for the two of them. Problems that partially existed because both Tonilia and Vekel were damn good at their jobs, and all too often, the job came first. It almost had to, when making a mistake at best meant prison and at worse meant an untimely demise. Still, some days it seemed like the two of them wouldn’t manage to make it all work after all, even after everything they’d been through.

I hope you know what you’re doing, Brynjolf.

Brynjolf nearly laughed out loud. Of course he didn’t know what he was doing, how could he? He felt as though he was attempting to break into a manor blindfolded, with only one lockpick in his pocket and no guarantee that there was even any worthwhile loot stashed inside. 

In all honesty, that actually sounded easier than figuring out the best way to move forward with Ariene. At least if he were forced to blindly rob a house, he’d have his years of experience thieving to fall back on. He could hardly say the same when it came to pursuing a relationship. 

Sure, he was no stranger to flirting, to one night encounters or quick flings, but this was something different. This went deeper than just physical attraction, and Brynjolf had no idea how to navigate it. Being a thief meant living on the edges of society, and along with that came certain sacrifices. He’d chosen this life, and he didn’t regret that for an instant, but when he’d done so, he’d quietly assumed that some things would forever be off the table as a result. 

But then this woman had come striding into his life, and upended nearly everything about it in the process. A part of him, the risk-taking, thrill-seeking part of himself that had led him to pursue life as a thief in the first place wanted him to reach out and take hold of what Ariene was offering him, to Oblivion with the potential consequences. 

But the other part, the careful and calculating part, the Guild Lieutenant who planned elaborate schemes and considered every possible outcome of each venture before giving the go ahead, that part of him still urged caution. 

It was easy to be certain of what he wanted when Ariene stood inches away from him, her breath hot on his face and her hands warm in his own. But sitting alone at the bar, his lunch growing cold in front of him, it was easier to see nothing but the danger. 

Pain. Anger. Heartache. 

He’d be opening himself up to all of it if he moved forward. Despite his warnings, Vekel was still willing to undergo those feelings to keep his relationship with Tonilia alive. Brynjolf had to decide if what he could have with Ariene was worth the same risk.

He took a deep breath, then stood up, dropping a few septims on the bar next to his unfinished plate. 

With every heist, there came a time when you couldn’t plan any longer. Even the most well laid strategy was never foolproof, and the only way to know for sure how it would end up was by attempting it. Despite all of Vekel’s questions and his own doubts swirling around in his mind, what he’d said to Ariene herself had been right all along. He had no idea whether pursuing his feelings would be worth it in the end. 

But there was only one way to find out.

— — — 

Prev: Ch.6 - Unhindered Insights || Next: Ch.8 - Caught Red Handed

[artsycervidae]

For your Demon Slayer oc's, can you talk a bit more about their signature weapons and moveset?

Howdy! Thank you for the ask. Beware of spoilers under the cut. I've tried to be thorough (as much as I can on mobile), but I'm also naturally coy and try not to blurt all my ideas at once. It keeps me motivated to show via fanfic. Consider the spoilers as little nuggets to look forward to. These are the plot-relevant details, at least. If I'm too withholding on something you wanna know more about, don't be afraid to ask!

Nobu Gets His Own Part

Nobutoshi doesn't have anything super special about his sword or Mist Breathing except that like. He's a MASTER of Mist Breathing, which boosts him to OP levels of control and power so he can use the various forms to his heart's content, much like how Tanjiro began experimenting with Water Breathing, only Nobu knows exactly what he's doing at all times. He's the strongest Hashira in the Meiji Era, and so he's sort of the iconic 'killer in the mist' sort of fighter. And his Sight gives him an edge in brackish visuals as well as being able to scope out demons on sight and judge their capabilities.

Foliage Breathing Forms

Foliage Breathing was a unique Breathing style made by Junko, and is an offshoot of Flower Breathing primarily, her family's specialty. However, she was the first of the main trio to blend other fighting types into her own style, improving on her abilities. It's also unique in that it's ambulatory: Junko can exercise her ambidexterity and dominate the battle from any position. The splash art is greenery and parts of plant life, of course.

First Form: Kudzu Snare

     A smooth, fluid attack where the user slices everything in her path, like following a winding vine. (Comparable to Water Third Form)

Second Form: Root Maze

     Ths user takes a moment to sense her surroundings using air currents, like roots spreading underground. Due to Junko's inherent talent in her bodily awareness, she's doing this constantly, much like Total Concentration Breathing. (Comparable to Beast Seventh Form-- that being said, since Beast Breathing is created by Inosuke specifically, she wasn't inspired by him. But I waaaaas.~ Tetsuya has been learning to do it.)

Third Form: Falling Leaf Storm

     This is the 'flashstep' move that most styles employ, with the added benefit that she can keep doing this as long as there are targets in range-- it gives the impression of pinging from victim to victim, striking them like falling leaves.

Fourth Form: Lotus Rot

     A complicated finishing move. The user's initial swipes are for defense/parrying, where there is emphasis on molding the perfect strike (stripping petals from a lotus flower). Then, the user stabs in all vital areas (Heart, lungs, liver, kidneys) to slow regeneration, turning the target into a lotus root. The final strike is beheadment. (Comparable to Flower Fifth Form)

     This is a special form that pays homage to her family's craft.

Fifth Form: Sprout Germination

     The user either pierces with a frontal thrust, or stabs with a reversed hold on her weapon, like a sproutling bursting through the earth. (Comparable to Mist First Form).

Sixth Form: Splinter

     The user slashes her surroundings viciously, defending against attacks and destroying anything in her range. The splash art is very stylized, giving the impression of deforestation/falling trees. (Comparable to Wind Third Form)

Tetsuya's Sword (and Sheath)

Tetsuya wields a massive sword that would seem uncomfortable or overkill for even most adults. It's fashioned like an every day Japanese kitchen knife (thin handle, broad and smoothly arced blade), and the sheath is equally large. I continue to emphasize Tetsuya's smallness because this Buster-ass sword really minimizes him, like an optical illusion. Since Nobutoshi used his connections to have Tetsuya's sword custom made, his sheath is thicker and sturdier than typically available to katana swordsmen.

Hinata's Barbnet

     Hinata's prosthetic starts a little after the elbow bend: the style is like that of Yoriichi Type Zero's arm, as they were directly inspired by him while on leave to the swordsmith village. Inside the arm is a cable wench, which releases their net and keeps it tethered to them. They require a special handle to reel it in though, and they use whatever they can get their hands on to serve as the net's 'brake.' So they only need to break their wrist to unleash the net's full length.

     The cables are specially made and probably really anachronistic, but if Zero exists and Mitsuri gets a ribbon sword, then I think Hinata gets to have this. The cables are fed out of the seams of their wrist, palm, and fingers, so their components stand out a little more than Zero's. The barbs are made of Junko's broken sword, and for artistic purposes, when properly seated they make polygonal jagged fingers. But realistically, they're a haphazard mess of sharp edges. They aren't able to do much outside of fight with that hand, but they have incredible dexterity and control from years of practice: they can swirl the length of it into a whip and easily untangle it with a flick of their wrist.

Immolation Breathing Forms

Immolation Breathing is a style created by Hinata, and works to incorporate Foliage Breathing into Flame Breathing, combining the adaptability and power of each style. It is an offshoot of them both. The final result was intended to be the first step in reverse engineering Sun Breathing. This style, however, is extremely aggressive to its user, both because and despite the fact it's incomplete. It also demands dual-wielding in most circumstances. For simplicity's sake, we will use Hinata and their sword-net combo. The splash art theme is lots of fire and smoke, mostly in flashes to emphasize discombobulation.

First Form: Heat Refraction

     The flashstep move, but the user moves so fast that oncoming attacks appear to land on their afterimage before going for the throat. (Comparable to Foliage Third Form and Flame First Form. This is also perhaps the only perfected Form, as it most resembles Hinokami Kagura.)

Second Form: Gluttonous Inferno

     The user uses both weapons in turns to devastate the immediate area: one weapon takes heavier, killing strikes (sword) while its partner pushes for space (net), much like a forest fire. This can be used for defense against projectiles, but is primarily intended as an aggressive, all-around attack. (Comparable to Foliage Seventh Form and Flame Fourth Form.)

Third Form: Fuse Follow

     The user gets in close and personal with weakening strikes before making a singularly violent killing blow. For Hinata, they keep their net reigned in and use their fist and sword in turns. The final blow is either a decapitation, or the sudden unfolding of their net mid-strike, which often tears open their target with explosive force. (Comparable to Foliage First Form)

Fourth Form: Sleep in a Bed of Coals

     The user strikes twice from a tail guard using their killing weapon, then immediately swaps to their support weapon for a decapitation slash at the same time as the third attack. Hinata uses their sword as a feint, then kills using their net like a garrote, sawing off the head if necessary. (Comparable to Flame Second Form.)

Fifth Form: Sacrificial Pyre

      The user uses one weapon to tether themself to the target. Then they perform a downwards arcing slash with their other weapon. Hinata will typically capture with their net, and behead with their katana. (Comparable to Foliage Fifth Form and Flame Third Form)

[deadheaddaisy]

hey, your WIP ideas sound really interesting! I would like to hear more about fight text and hating Harris please

Ah, thanks for the interest! 

Let’s start with “Hating Harris” (because oh yeah, I do hate that prat). This is a canon-divergent, possibly AU fic where Hoshi is also from Section 31 - although not an agent, but an assassin. An assassin who is less than pleased about what Malcolm’s been forced to do. There will be a bit of back-story, but suffice to say that he has no idea she also belonged to S31, and probably not that she’s out for revenge. Because in my world, Harris needs to feel fear, and know why he’s feeling it. Assuming he survives, that is...

“Fight text” is a repository of fight scenes I write down when they pop into my head, and then see where (or if) I can use them in any fics. So far I’ve used examples of Hoshi in a fight, in my asks, so here’s a bit of Malcolm that I plan on using in a holodeck scenario at some point. 

His head dropped forward for a moment, then came up sharply, and his entire body went on alert as a group of Nausicaans materialised around him. The swords came up into a defensive pose, and he began to move. Hoshi watched in admiration as the small tactical officer flowed through a battle against his much larger opponents, spinning and rolling, attacking with the swords, deflecting, occasionally leaping into the air in smooth motions that sent him flying across the stage in giant parabolas, landing sure-footedly as he brought up his weapons to block, parry, or land a sneak attack. 

Archer and Trip looked stunned as they were treated to a side of Malcolm they had never witnessed before. Sure, they had all been part of his self-defence classes, but no one had ever seen the tactical officer in real, physical action until now; no one had ever seen his martial arts skills being put to the test, or witnessed just how flexible and fast he could be. It was an eye-opener. T’Pol simply watched calmly, while Hoshi was transfixed by the sheer beauty of his movements as his lithe body spun and twisted and bent like, yes, a reed in the wind. 

Thanks for the ask! 

[lightsiided]

‘i don’t think this thing works.’

* thor starters | accepting

     rey stifles a giggle, pressing her lips together to hide her smile. "try igniting it," she suggests, gesturing at the switch a few inches above where thor's thumb currently rests. "GO ON. you've seen me do mine."

admittedly, the lightsaber looks small in his hands. though the weapon is mighty -- it has accomplished SO MUCH, assisted in some of the greatest battles of the century -- the hilt commands less attention than stormbreaker or even mjolnir, unassuming without its blade.

she arches an eyebrow, leaning over to readjust his grip. "you should hold it higher. when you wield a lightsaber, you need to be near the ignition -- well, you do, because you don't use the force -- so you can dim it QUICKLY before you slice your own hand off or something."

despite how skilled thor is in battle, with any number of weapons -- rey has seen him do impressive damage with much less, after all, including a few occasions where ORDINARY OBJECTS had become his weapon of choice out of necessity -- he holds the lightsaber awkwardly. thor is unaccustomed to it, she knows, though rey can't help but to wonder if she looked as strange when she first wielded it.

"like this," rey directs, tilting thor's elbow up with one hand. the other slides the switch forward, and with a woosh, a blue glow casts itself across his face. "now pretend i'm a stormtrooper, and try to slice me in half."

it's easy enough to take a step back, out of the clumsy swinging path of thor with the saber. again, she bites on the inside of her cheek to hold back a laugh, lifting her own saber with more than enough time to parry the next stroke. "you have to be FASTER than that. i know you can, come on."

of course, thor is a maddeningly quick study. she knew when she offered to teach him a few moves that he would be -- thor is INFURIATINGLY GOOD at seemingly everything. even without the force, he picks up on how to use the saber to his advantage -- and his own lack of the abilities rey has -- in moments.

throwing a hand out to halt him, she spins the hilt over her knuckles in the move that always seems to make him anxious. "if you can try it without burning yourself, give it a go." her cheeks burn the longer she watches him, eyes half-lidded and dazed. rey is as easily distracted as EVER by the flex of his muscles as he moves, by the focused furrow of his brow, by the raw power and strength clear in his every shifting step. the addition of her lightsaber somehow only makes it more alluring.

with a yelp, she jumps back just in time to avoid a poke through her stomach. "hey," rey huffs, paying enough attention to start to get some jabs of her own in. "you CAN'T attack when i'm ogling you. it's not fair."

@othunderous

[flesh-panopticon]

Ultrakill WAIT OF THE WORLD update review

this review(?) WILL contain heavy spoilers for the new content, especially P-2.

alright, lets get all the other stuff outta the way on some rapid fire points.

S.R.S Cannon Rocket Launcher variant: sorry but i havent really used it so dont ask me.

Radiant Enemies and sandbox updates: i like the radiant enemy system, being able to modify speed, health, and damage without the hassle of mods is much appreciated. Although the boss health bar modifier is a bit broken on enemies with a name with multiple words it doesnt display the spacing. and sometimes the name is just wrong. like the FLESH PANOPTICON just displays as "fleshprison" (this doesnt happen with the boss version)

Dev museum: its a nice and relaxing place to just chill, learn about the beautiful people who worked on this game, its history (such as scrapped weapons and early enemy models) and just watch the nice scenery. also there are some fun secrets and a neat minigame

5-S: gone fishin'

And now, the main attraction...

P-2:

ok. so the pre boss fights are amazing. a massive gauntlet of some of the most powerful enemies in the game. Swordsmachines, Ferrymen, Mindflayers, and an invincible stalker sanding every enemy within a 500KM radius and there is nothing you can do to stop it!

Now the bosses.

FLESH PANOPTICON: it is very similar to flesh prison and has a good fight ost but it dies way, WAY too fast. (yes i know its kind of the point but still a disappointment.)

and now...

SISYPHUS PRIME

easily the most brutal boss in the game, he has a range of lightning fast and high damage attacks that are able to be parried but the sheer speed and already relatively small window makes it difficult even for more experienced players. his design (especially in the 2nd phase) is great, i like that his face is only defined with blood red markings. i love how he is built like a powerful weightlifter or sumo wrestler and his 6 meter (roughly 20 foot) height makes him very imposing and strong looking. his voice is amazing and almost EXACTLY what i thought we would sound like. Even his entrance is epic as hell, ripping open the Panopticon FROM THE INSIDE after V1 barely weakened it and then saying "this prison... to hold ME?" is almost scary and it made my heart rush like nothing else. the music... oh THE MUSIC IS SO FUCKING GOOD! Just like the fight itself, the theme is similar to ORDER exept faster, more powerful with loud and imposing drums and the melodies just personify how powerful and sadistic he is.

overall its the best fight in the ENTIRE game IMO and the update as a whole is one of the best ever. the update has been out for just over a day and the community is going insane. And some extremely talented people have already P-ranked it.

now what do you all think

[magicalmanhattanproject]

Fight scene practice!! If you can still write a bit of Empires season 1, I'd love to see Pix and fWhip fighting with a trident and a sword respectively. Maybe one of them was pranking the other one and almost got away, but got outpaced in the chase and decided it would be more fun to turn and fight instead of running?

"Well, if we're going to be pulling off this heist together, we should probably know how each of us fights," Pix says, shrugging his shirt back on. "How about a spar? First blood work for you?"

"Uh, that depends. Do you, like, bleed?" fWhip asks. He's still holding a small stone covered in Pix's blood, but, like... he pulled it out of sand that may have also been Pix's blood.

"Of course I do," Pix scoffs. "I'm just as human as you are."

"...Right. But, uh, yeah. First blood works."

"Excellent! Right this way."

It's still late at night, but Pix looks as spry as ever. More than he's been all day, in fact. The training field is quiet and empty except for a single guard lurking in the corner. fWhip gets the sense that she's trying to be unobtrusive.

Pix draw his trident from his inventory and fWhip does the same with his sword. There's no clear signal to start. They just begin circling each other slowly, about ten paces apart. The training field is lit well enough by the stars and the moon. Out here, there's no need to worry about clouds obstructing their vision.

fWhip strikes first. He smacks the trident with the flat of his blade to get it out of his way and darts in to his right.

Pix takes a half step back and parries with the back end of the trident. It's a pretty fancy flourish.

fWhip punishes him for it. Feints high over Pix's guard and slashes at his stomach when Pix pulls his trident up. Pix scrambles back. fWhip follows. He presses attacks every chance he gets and Pix parries as he retreats, though he can never quite get the tines of the trident positioned for a counterattack, not since he ceded the range with that first, fateful flourish. It's almost like dealing with a quarterstaff, though not one fWhip can expect to break.

fWhip follows Pix all the way to the edge of the training field with the wooden wall of the barracks. Ah. That has to be plan. Lure fWhip in close and try to get him to catch his sword in the planks. fWhip steps back a bit to give himself space from the wall.

And gives Pix enough space to bring his tines to bear. Pity the length of the trident keeps him too far away for fWhip to employ his greatest weapon (pocket sand).

Pix jabs at fWhip over and over again and fWhip narrowly dodges each jab, but he can't close the range again. Well, time for his second greatest weapon.

"Flash grenade!" fWhip yells as he pulls the device out of his sandless pocket and squeezes his eyes shut against the explosion of brilliant white light. It shakes his whole head despite his best efforts to scramble out of the way.

When he opens his eyes, Pix is standing there, leaning on his trident. "You have, uh–" he gestures vaguely to his own nose.

fWhip brings his hand up to his face. Sure enough, his fingers come away red. Right. Standing too close to a flashbang always did give him nosebleeds. "I guess you win?"

Pix shrugs. "We just said first blood. Never said whose blood."

fWhip laughs. "Works for me." Winning always does.

[mashounen1945]

So... I've been on a massive Kirby brainrot ever since the release of Kirby & the Forgotten Land (which combined with a Metroid brainrot I already had since the announcement of Metroid Dread, so you can imagine what kind of horrifying chaos my brain has been for the last few months, but that's another story). In that unenviable situation (depending on your point of view), I had this wacky idea of how I'd like Tails's story to go once Sonic Frontiers gets all of its DLC this year.

[If songs from outside the Sonic series are mentioned, they're supposed to be taken only as an inspiration.]

Tails's moveset could bring back his skills from Sonic Battle. A few of them (namely the Magic Upper and the Flick) imply he can summon small Warp Rings to make more efficient use of some of his inventions. It could also let Tails have a dedicated Dodge move or even be able to parry enemy mêlée attacks with his tails, as well as making him able to do combos. Sonic Frontiers already has those combos, but only for Sonic for now; besides, before the game's announcement, I was already thinking of something with much more hand-to-hand combat and mêlée weapons, perhaps inspired by Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance or Advent NEON or Bayonetta, rather than relying on ranged attacks or other actions from a distance (in short: if Sonic's gameplay focuses more on "travel speed", Tails's gameplay should differentiate from Sonic's by focusing more on "combat speed").

He fights easier versions of the Titans, but each fight against them is followed by a battle inside his own mind where he fights some nightmarish creature representing his inner demons: his own fears, flaws and limitations. These "special bosses" aren't towering constructs inspired by Evangelion, like the Titans from the base game; instead, they're smaller, meant to be fought "one versus one" rather than being a seemingly very unequal "David vs Goliath" fight, heavily based upon special bosses in Fark's Story of Spark the Electric Jester 1, and they periodically switch between two forms: one of them is essentially a Mobian but much more agile, harder to hit and more unpredictable, and the other one looks like your average Kirby Soul enemy (I told you I was in a middle of a brainrot) and is pretty easy to hit but uses overwhelming attacks that barely leave space to dodge them; the Mobian-like form of each special boss looks like one of Tails's friends and also uses a few attacks from their moveset.

Additional notes: The battle music for these unique bosses would be, of course, "Special Boss" from Spark the Electric Jester 1. When defeated, right before Tails is taken back to the real world, each one of them briefly reveals a magenta gemstone with the form of a Platonic solid: one is a tetrahedron, one is a cube, and one is an octahedron.

Tails's body, just like Sonic's, gets corrupted during the story, but unlike the hedgehog, he doesn't bottle his feelings or even try to stay optimistic, instead openly expressing how much he hates this whole situation. At some point, after helping so many Kocos basically go to the afterlife, having to do all this with no help from Sonic or any of his friends, and having to deal with Sage being like "You're making a mistake" but refusing to elaborate, Tails can't take it anymore: he goes on a whole-ass rant where he just starts insulting everyone and everything, admits not to understand why he's the one having to save the world this time instead of Sonic, wishes to simply go back to his life before arriving to Starfall Islands, and ultimately gives up, lying on the ground, looking up at the sky and eventually falling asleep, no longer caring about the corruption that slowly but steadily consumes his body.

During a dream, he fights another special boss, one that isn't linked to any of the Titans and looks and moves a lot like Shadow but also includes modified versions of a few attacks from the moveset of a certain jackal from a previous Sonic game. When defeated, the magenta gemstone briefly looks like an icosahedron, only to quickly morph into a great stellated dodecahedron and later take Shadow's form. As the background clears itself and stabilizes, this apparition of Shadow —based upon Tails's memories of him— encourages the fox to follow Sonic's example, not give up and also remember his friends are still supporting him and willing to help him however they can.

When Tails is about to die from his body's corruption, his friends cure him and restore his body at the cost of their physical forms, just like in the original story. However, Tails doesn't accept losing his friends again and having to keep fighting alone, so he decides to "kick the playing board": when the de-corruption process is almost complete, he goes Super, uses his powers to create a Warp Ring that leads to Angel Island, and uses that Warp Ring to directly touch the Master Emerald with his hand and go Hyper; recalling what Tikal had said about the power of Chaos (that it comes from the soul and turns thoughts into reality), he brings Sonic, Knuckles and Amy Rose back from the Cyber World with no side effects, although this consumes all of Hyper Tails's power and makes him fall back to his base form. Later, the battle against Supreme has the entire quartet working together to defeat the Titan, with Sonic eventually going Super and dealing the coup de grâce; when Tails has to fight within his mind the special boss linked to Supreme —which uses a deadly combination of the best of Sonic's and Tails's movesets—, he surprisingly receives Sonic's help and both of them defeat the special boss together.

Additional notes: When Sonic intervenes in Tails's special boss fight, "Special Boss" from Spark TEJ 1 is replaced by "Live & Learn". The mysterious gemstone of this special boss is revealed to be a dodecahedron when it's defeated.

Right before the final battle, Sage warns Tails about a possible great threat he might have to face while she and Sonic deal with The End. He finds a bright purple whirlpool-shaped portal, goes through it, and arrives at a place very similar to both Null Space and Egg Reverie. There, he meets another version of The End; this one and the one being fought by Sonic in space aren't really one and the same, since this version of The End is still a disembodied voice and seems to be from an alternate universe. "The Other End" tells Tails that it will send him to face three powerful enemies in environments made ad hoc by it for each of those battles, and he shall defeat them in order to ensure Sonic's success against his own universe's version of The End.

Additional notes: Background music for this pocket dimension: "L86" from Kirby: Planet Robobot.

The first enemy summoned by The Other End is Mecha Sonic Mk.2, who's also provided with a replica of the magic sword Caliburn, and the environment looks like the top platform of Sky Sanctuary during a thunderstorm with strong winds and heavy rain. In his 2nd phase, he periodically switches between his normal form and something more like the Death Egg's Red Eye (the mid-boss at the end of Death Egg 1, in Sonic 3 & Knuckles), with the light in Mecha Sonic's visor being repositioned in his chest and revealed as his main plasma cannon.

Additional notes: Mecha Sonic battle theme: "Reproduction of Darkness" from Planet Robobot. When defeated, he decays into a formless body of liquid metal and starts convulsing while saying "There can only be one Sonic" in Morse code, then says Tails's name with a robotic voice that surprisingly sounds very similar to Sonic's, before immediately dissolving into the air.

The second enemy is Perfect Chaos, and the environment is a reconstruction of Station Square's ruins during the real Perfect Chaos's rampage, including the water. The battle goes roughly the same as in Sonic Generations.

Additional notes: Perfect Chaos battle theme: "Open Your Heart"; I'd like the original version to be remixed into something rather sad or "darker", with altered lyrics, or remade as a "muddy" remix (like "Faded & Flower" in Planet Robobot, a remix of "Dirty & Beauty" from Kirby: Triple Deluxe); Circuit Freq's remix for Sonic Generations would be fitting as well. When Perfect Chaos is defeated, Tikal's voice is heard in the distance, saying "Thank you" as the water monster goes back to their base form, reunites with a bright orange hitodama and ascends to the sky.

The third enemy initially seems to be merely a giant magenta icosahedral gemstone —a bigger replica of the Phantom Ruby—, which seems to have someone sealed inside, and the environment is a simple circular arena with a bottomless pit in the centre. The gemstone rotates to point one of its vertices towards a fixed point in the void surrounding the battle arena, then the five faces that meet at that vertex open up like a flower, a cutting blast of radiation is fired from inside the gem (just like Ramiel opening up and firing its laser in the Rebuild of Evangelion movies), and this blast hits something invisible in that void, opening a fissure in the space-time fabric while an ethereal scream of agony is heard: the gemstone has just killed The Other End by actually cutting it in half and then letting it be sucked into a dimensional rift. After this, the gemstone closes again, positions itself above the hole in the centre of the arena, generates a vertical cylindrical shield and officially starts the battle against Tails.

In its 1st phase, the battle against the giant Phantom Ruby is pretty much like Phase 4-A of Star Dream Soul OS but with a few added elements from the battles against Mother Brain in Metroid 1 and Super Metroid. The Ruby summons pillars throughout the circular arena, which start moving along it; each pillar has a much smaller Phantom Ruby replica with the shape of some other regular polyhedra, which moves up and down and has to be destroyed in order to be able to get through the hole left by it; each of them also has weapons installed at the top and the base, one of them is a turret firing blaster shots, and the other is a cannon similar to the one on Mecha Sonic's chest firing energy rings (like Super Mecha Sonic when he's a couple of hits away from being defeated by Knuckles). Every time the Rubies of all pillars are destroyed, the Phantom Ruby gets rid of those damaged pillars and summons new ones, and these can also start moving in reverse or even close the distance between two of them in an attempt to crush Tails or force him to jump into the void; on the other hand, every time all pillars are neutralized, Tails can do some damage to the cylindrical shield while the Phantom Ruby is in the process of summoning new pillars. After destroying three sets of pillars —each with more of them than the last—, the 1st phase ends.

Additional notes: Phantom Ruby's 1st phase battle theme: either "Soul 0 System" from Planet Robobot, or Heart of Nova's remix "STAR NOVA SYSTEM" from SilvaGunner's album Super Star Symphony. The three sets total 20 pillars, and every time a pillar is neutralized, a needle pierces one of the faces of the Phantom Ruby. A disembodied voice (not The Other End's voice, but still familiar) does a countdown, starting at 20 at the beginning of the battle and going down as more faces of the Ruby are pierced by needles.

Once all pillars are destroyed, Tails manages to break the shield, but the giant Phantom Ruby moves higher, all the needles are removed and the Ruby opens up again (this time, the opening points upwards instead of towards the horizon) as the bottomless pit at the centre of the circular arena is covered over and made part of the arena. Crimson smoke emanates from the Phantom Ruby's exposed core and starts condensing until forming the body of a Mobian jackal: Infinite.

Infinite's moveset here is mostly just a rip-off of Galacta Knight's, including the Time-Border Great Slash Flash from Planet Robobot (opening a dimensional rift, referenced when the Phantom Ruby opens up for the 1st time and banishes/kills The Other End), but also has some stuff from the final boss fight against Raven Beak in Metroid Dread (I tried to think of a way to adapt the three actual boss fights against Infinite in Sonic Forces somehow, but two of them only work if the player's character is running, and all of them look kinda disappointing anyway).

Additional notes: Phantom Ruby's 2nd phase battle theme: any version of "The Greatest Warrior in the Galaxy".

When Tails lands the last hit on Infinite, the jackal turns into crimson smoke again and vanishes, but then reappears standing on top of the giant Phantom Ruby —which has moved back to its previous height—, starting the 3rd and last phase.

The battle's 3rd phase starts with Infinite —still standing on top of the Ruby— summoning a sequence of combinations of attacks taken from different boss fights: Infinite's moveset in his own 2nd boss fight in Sonic Forces, Galacta Knight's Revolution Sword, Energy Shower and Rising Spine, and Heartful Tears from Phase 4-B of Star Dream Soul OS. This is followed by more combinations of Galacta Knight's and Star Dream Soul OS's moves, where both Infinite and the Phantom Ruby enter the circular arena and move through it —usually being on opposite sides of the arena while moving— to attack Tails directly. The first sequence of attacks can be repeated at some point as well.

Additional notes: Phantom Ruby's 3rd phase battle theme: any version of "Vagrant Keepsake of Oblivion" (itself a part of "Vagrant Counting Song of Retrospection"), including the cover made by GaMetal and the remix "R-E-P-R-O-G-R-A-M" from Super Star Symphony.

When Infinite and the Phantom Ruby are one hit away from being defeated, the jackal transforms into crimson smoke once again and re-enters the Ruby, which then goes back to the centre of the arena and starts spinning in all planes of rotation while firing several successive triangular energy blasts from all of its faces, shooting lasers from all of its vertices and sometimes even shooting cutting blasts from all of its edges (a combination of Chaos Elfilis Phase 2's Planetarium Dream Tour —which is, in turn, based on Void Termina's Crown of Evil and Obsession—, Star Dream's Fatal Error, and Star Dream Soul OS's Heartless Tears), which Tails will have to quickly dodge and/or parry while trying to get closer to the Ruby. When Tails is close enough, the attack stops and all that's left in the centre is Infinite, who has a normal-sized Phantom Ruby embedded in his chest and looks like he's embarrassed and furious but also literally boiling on the inside and about to explode. Infinite desperately summons a massive energy polearm (which would be a mix between a poleaxe, a halberd, a spontoon/partisan, a voulge or couteau-de-brèche, and other real-life polearms) and tries to finish Tails off; if the player guards successfully, Tails uses his namesakes to parry Infinite's attack and snatch the polearm from his hands, and immediately uses it to accurately strike the Phantom Ruby, killing the jackal with his own weapon.

Infinite is thrown far from the arena and stays floating in the void, then starts convulsing and bouncing across the pocket dimension's space as he becomes more unstable and the Phantom Ruby's power is closer and closer to atomize both itself and its user. Eventually, both the Phantom Ruby and Infinite explode, flooding the entire place with light and leaving no remains afterwards.

Additional notes: Music for this scene: any version of "Kirby's Triumphant Return" (of course).

Tails wakes up back in Starfall Islands, where he has an emotive reunion with Sonic and their friends after the hedgehog came back from saving the world; the fox admits to his adoptive brother that he'd rather take a break from the action for a while —and Sonic accepts this without objection and supports Tails's decision—, but also assures the hedgehog that this isn't permanent and he's now much more certain of what he can and wants to do with his life. The story ends with Sonic piloting the Tornado for the first time since the events of Sonic 3 & Knuckles as Tails takes a well-deserved rest in the plane's backseat.

Additional notes: Ending theme: either Fuhi's mash-up of versions of the credits theme from Milky Way Wishes, or GaMetal's cover of "My Friend & the Sunset".

[ssarkosghost]

Arkos Week DAY 2 - Training

Day 2 of @arkos-week-2022 and whose ready for some angst, I know I am😬

Jaune quietly walked through the halls of the academy. The morning light trickled through the open windows and illuminated his path. A small breeze drifted in, carrying in the dry cooling air. Jaune knew he should be with his team. It had been a long journey for all, with weeks that had passed by. However, he still felt…unsure about them. Much had changed in such a short time and once again he felt like an outsider. He just needed time was all, get back into the swing of things, ready to break some legs as Nora had put it.

“She still has a way with words,” he mused as he remembered his latest discussion with her. His small grin suddenly dropped however as a flash of red caught the corner of his eyes. Increasing his pace, he quickly moved to the corner the flicker of red had disappeared around. He turned into the open archway ready to call out Ruby when he froze.

Past the archway, the corridor ballooned into a large arena. Obviously one of the academy’s dueling halls, but that wasn’t what stopped him. In the middle going through her weapon forms stood Pyrrha. Already she had worked up a sweat as she twirled herself through the air, a dazzling display of skill as she flowed into each stance. It was a performance he had almost forgotten about; they had been on the move so much that rarely anyone ran through the basics. He could only watch spellbound as she finished her warm-ups before turning to face him.

“Hello,” she said, her voice still light despite the earlier exercise.

“He-Hello,” Jaune responded absolutely stunned, he was always amazed at how Pyrrha was able to speak without any exhaustion. She must have been going at it for some time for the sweat on her brow and yet she hardly sounded tired at all.

“Got time for a bit of a spar, I know we haven’t had time but if you need the arena for yourself—”

“No no no, I can spare a duel,” Jaune interrupted as he stepped into the arena and set about preparing himself. Pyrrha’s eyes grew concerned, but before Jaune could ask about that Pyrrha charged. The opening blows between the two were fast and furious. Pyrrha’s strikes still held her unerring accuracy, as Jaune countered with his improved defensive techniques. Their fight however turned into an awkward stalemate as time passed.

“Your hesitating,” Pyrrha probed as she launched an attack at Jaune’s sword hand.

“Yeah…aggression hasn’t been working out,” Jaune replied as he sidestepped, letting Pyrrha’s strikes pass by. Pyrrha however quickly pivoted and drove at his exposed chest.

“It’s not about aggression Jaune,” Pyrrha said as her attacks landed, “one needs to take advantage of openings, and not be afraid.”

“Not all openings are good ones,” Jaune countered as he knocked aside her spear and reset his stance. “It’s hard to know which ones aren’t just traps,” he continued on as he stared her down. Pyrrha of course was already on her next attack. Throwing her shield, she charged in behind it as it sailed toward Jaune. Jaune dodged the incoming shield and parried her first strike. Again a stalemate developed between them, but this time Jaune had a better understanding of what Pyrrha wanted. He was prepared for it and he would be able to—HuRK!!

Pyrrha’s shield suddenly slammed into the back of his neck, just as Pyrrha went low. She swept his legs out from under him. Pain flooded his nerves as he slammed into the hard unfeeling ground.

“You still keep yourself too focused Jaune,” Pyrrha’s voiced, tired and somewhat sad. “You can’t let yourself be stuck only to one view,”

“But what if it’s all I got?” Jaune asked as he rolled over, “what if I’ve just reached my peak?”

“Oh Jaune,” Pyrrha smiled as she walked to his side and reached out a hand. “You’ve only reached it if you believe you have, and I don’t think you do,” she finished as he grasped her hand and helped her pull himself up.

“Yeah…there’s still much to do,” Jaune remarked, he still had to be the shield for everyone, their opponents wouldn’t let them wallow in mediocrity. He needed to push on for them he needed to—

“Yes, there is, but you need to be smart about this Jaune, you are a part of a team, and a team can only work when everyone is there for each other,” Pyrrha interrupted his thoughts as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

“A bit hypocritical coming from you,” Jaune let out, flinching as he let his anger poison his words. Pyrrha however just smiled brighter.

“True, a mistake I paid for…and one I don’t want you to go down to,” she said as she stepped away. Jaune didn’t follow, his mind filled with the painful thoughts of the past. Pyrrha could only let a sad smile form on her face. Jaune’s mind was his greatest asset in a fight, but it was also a weakness for him as well. Too many times he would file away a failure, only to replay to it as punishment. Fortunately, she did know just what to do to get his mind off such thoughts. “So, with what I’ve seen, it might be good to go over some basic forms before dinner don’t you think?”

“Huh? Ah sure,” Jaune said, as it did sound like a good idea to him. He would never complain about Pyrrha offering to do some sets with him ever again.

“Alright then well then let’s see what you’ve got subconsciously,” Pyrrha started as she began to pull her sash off of him. Jaune however quickly grabbed her hand before it could remove said sash.

“Pyrrha—”

“Jaune, you can trust me,” Pyrrha’s voice echoed in his head, but he refused to remove his hand.

“I, I can’t,” Jaune said as his mind started to understand what was going on. He knew it wasn’t fair but he just couldn’t. Pyrrha however smiled at his reluctance.

“It’s alright, I’m not going anywhere,” she stated. Jaune wanted to believe her, he really did, it’s just that…

“I know this is all in my hea—”

“Then let me help you again…we both know you can’t keep thinking of the past,” Pyrrha interrupted him grasping his arm with her other hand. “I want you to realize you have the strength within, so please?” Pyrrha pressed. Jaune knew he couldn’t keep denying her, she was right after all.

“Alright, let's do this then,” he stated as he let go. Pyrrha smiled at him a deftly wove her sash around his eyes.

Darkness closed in on Jaune, and yet he could still sense the room around him, could still feel Pyrrha’s presence.

“Now then,” Pyrrha’s voice came from his left which caused him to turn and face that way. “Let’s see what you’ve remembered,” she finished before going quiet again. A heartbeat passed, then another, and another. Jaune waited, knowing if he took off the blindfold it was over. He would hold for as long as possible. His form tensed, awaiting the cue as the pressure began to rise. Higher and higher his sense rose, until—

 “STRIKE!!”

 Pyrrha’s voice reverberated throughout the arena, and Jaune moved. He unleashed his attacks at the imaginative foe, in his mind a bizarre fusion of Salem and Cinder. Yet even with that image in his mind, he knew he was holding back. So did Pyrrha as she didn’t call for a second assault.

“That bad huh,” he stated, his voice colored with melancholy and annoyance.

“No, it actually was very good, you’ve done well,” Pyrrha cut in, her steps light as she approached him. “It’s all there, you just doubt yourself.”

“Heh, hard not to when I’ve failed so much,” Jaune responded despondently. His failures were very evident in this fight against Salem. He went to remove the blindfold when Pyrrha’s hands stopped him.

“Which do not outweigh your successes Jaune,” she remarked, “you are doing a good job.” Jaune merely stayed silent, unable to find a way to challenge her statement. Pyrrha, noting his silence quickly refocused back on training. “Let’s go again if you’re ready?”

“…Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Jaune said as he got back into his stance. Again, he waited and waited. A prick of fear entered his heart as he felt the first two minutes pass. Had it happened had his brain finally—

Steps, light, and swift came charging at him from behind. He whirled around confused and reached toward the blindfold.

A targeted force nailed his sword hand, and he recoiled in surprise, bringing his shield up to block any follow-up attacks. However, only the soft steps of a retreating Pyrrha reached his senses. So, this was Pyrrha’s game, keeping him distracted, and less likely to think.

Again, steps came toward him, cutting his inner thoughts off. He was ready this time, his ears catching the swing of a weapon. Two blows bounced off his shield before he felt one in his back. Pyrrha must have sprung over him. Quickly he turned and stepped to the side. He needed to find a wall, and minimize her attack angles.

And so, the dance continued with Pyrrha continually probing his defenses, as he tried to get to a defensible position. Yet she wouldn’t let him. Every time he got close to a wall, Pyrrha intensified her assault and push him back to the middle. His options to counter were dwindling. All except for one. Go on the offensive. Crazy perhaps but that was quickly becoming the only thing he hadn’t tried. He knew this is what she was pushing him toward. Still, he would not commit. It wasn’t the right course, there had to be a better way.

“And what if there is no better way, Jaune?” Pyrrha’s asked, her voice distant to Jaune. He remained silent, knowing why she was doing this. “You can’t let yourself ignore an opening,” Pyrrha pressed, her voice coming closer. Jaune knew that, but he still moved toward a wall. He just had to get close and now.

He caught Pyrrha’s charge, finally pinpointing her incoming footfalls. Waiting for the thump of her jump he spun around and charged. He felt the thump of his body crashing into hers but didn’t stop until he slammed her against the wall. Time froze as their breaths became the only source of noise in the arena. Then Jaune heard the clatter of weapons hitting the floor.

“Amazing Jaune,” came Pyrrha’s voice faint again. “You’ve found the out.”

“I…I’m so sorry,” Jaune stated as he stepped back, “I’m sorry I took too long—”

“Sssh,” Pyrrha said as she placed a finger on his lips, “it was never your fault. I’m sorry I put this scar on you,” she stated her voice a whisper now. “Please believe in yourself, for yourself,” she murmured as Jaune felt her hands leave his face.

“Pyrrha…” Jaune trailed off, still afraid to take off the blindfold, but knowing what had happened. His training session was over and it was just him again in the empty training arena.

[sallertiafabrica]

All Is Fair in Tickle War

Homework has no place in tickle war.

For @kronehaze’s prompt list. Day 23 - Silliness

guess who remembered they can use read more for longer fics?

(Ao3 link)

She extended an arm over the small fan on her desk, the bright ribbons trying to fly away from it only succeeding in tickling her arm. Marinette thought for a moment—more like stared at the fan with a “thinking face” for a few seconds, she lost the ability to actually think earlier, during today’s homework date—then picked it up and pointed the flighting ribbons to her homework partner’s face.

Félix shrieked at the sudden gust of air and red stripes tickling his face, flailing the book in his hand in the attack’s direction.

Marinette hastily placed the fan back on the desk, bending under it to escape Félix’s counterattacks and to hold the laughter in her stomach. She failed immensely in both.

“What was that for?” a flushed Félix asked, eyes snapping from her to the fan as he slowly realized what happened.

Marinette fell back on her chair, biting her lips to muffle her laughter, and shrugged. Félix squinted at her, then humphed as he straightened up in his seat and reached for the textbook again.

She leaned an elbow on the desktop, chin on her knuckle, and pulled her own textbook over. She gazed at it for a total of twenty-two seconds and sixty-four leg bounces before she glanced at Félix.

He idly tapped his pencil on his notebook, lips pursing slightly as he gazed at the textbook slightly under it. His skin was at its usual pale tone again and he soundlessly mouthed the words, which meant he was actually focused on what he read and not just looking at it to seem like he was reading. He seemed peaceful.

Marinette reached over with her toe and tickled his foot through the sole of his sock.

This shriek was shriekier than the last, and Marinette full on cackled as he stumbled out of his chair.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” She shot up and ran to him, genuinely worried that he fell over, but still unable to contain her laughter. “Are you hurt? I–” Félix reached past her offered hand and grabbed her wrist, pulling her to the floor besides him, a shriek of her own falling out.

Slightly dazed, she tried to sit up, but millions of feathers wafted up her arm, then around her neck, and she fell to her back, curling up on herself as laughter broke out of her chest. She tried to push Félix away, but the paintbrush stroking over her nape and cheek crushed all her defenses and she could just barely reach his face and arm.

“I wield! I–” She wheezed. “I wield!”

Félix halted, fluffy brush held threateningly over her throat as he narrowed his eyes at her. Marinette just smiled innocently, muscles relaxing now that no tickling weapon was being used.

He cautiously stood up, brush still extended in her direction. Marinette hopped up, hands up to show surrender. He hummed, then slightly turned away.

Grave mistake.

Marinette kicked the nearest pillow on the floor up and whacked it on him.

Félix eeped, raising his arm to cover his face then jumped to another pillow, ducking from Marinette’s onslaught. He used it to parry her next attack, then threw a ball of yarn she hadn’t seen him taking over it.

It hit her and Félix used the distraction to run to the attic’s loft.

“Hey!”

Marinette pulled the bed covers under him, making him fumble. He kicked it off to the floor, crawling further onto the loft, as he raised two pillows over his head with a wicked grin.

Marinette snatched up her basket, yarns falling to the floor, to deflect the attacks as she ran towards the desk. She jumped on it, raising her head over the loft’s ledge as Félix fell back on the bed on it. He shoved his socked foot on her face, but Marinette held firm, pushing herself up with all her might and tickling him.

Félix fell laughing on the bed, blindly kicking in her direction in a meek attempt to stop the tickling storm, but Marinette wouldn’t be easily defeated.

He pushed his head closer to Marinette’s, a hand going to her hair, taking advantage of the millisecond of confusion at his face being suddenly so close to press their lips together.

“That’s cheating!” Marinette yelped, giggling as she fumbled on the desk.

Félix shrugged, biting his lip, the red in his face matching Marientte’s own face. “All’s fair in tickle war!”

More giggles filled the room, their homework laying forgotten on the desk as pillows, yarns, and fabric flew at their faces. Marinette had gotten one of her feather earrings and was using it as her main tickling weapon while Félix gathered all the brushes he could find, also using a canvas as a shield.

She didn’t know how much time had passed, and Félix would most definitely get a tiny bit mad once he remembered they were supposed to be doing homework, but the mirth in his eyes, his laughter, and on the kisses he’d steal from her was more than worth it.

Then, footsteps thumped up the stairs from the other side of the attic’s door.

“Marinette? Félix?”

As quick as lightning, they both rushed back to their seats. Plopping on her chair, Marinette raised the first textbook she put her hands on over her face as Félix pulled the chair by her side and grabbed the other side of the book to also look at it.

The trapdoor creaked open and Sebastian’s head poked into the room. He blinked at the disarrayed room, turning from the uncovered bed, to the thrown pillows, to the toppled basket, and the scattered yarns. Finally, he settled his gaze on the teens that had obviously done some kind of exertion staring inconspicuously at him, heads tilted as if his presence was the only unusual thing in this room.

He clicked his tongue, opening his mouth, but seemed to think better of it and just said, “Dinner’s in an hour, don’t tear the place down before then.”

“Sure thing!”

“Hmhm.”

The trapdoor clicked shut.

Marinette and Félix sighed relievedly then turned to reorganize their materials. A peaceful lull fell over them as the scrapes of pencil and the fan’s whirr overtook all other sounds. Marinette lasted forty-eight leg bounces before reaching for the fan.