Poll: Because they're too busy fighting the enemies of man, the Blades of the Emperor need YOU to decide the color of their power armor! Which color pattern [designs for which can be found in a link in my profile] would look best on Shirou's Lost Founding Chapter? Vote Now!
Author has written 12 stories for Inuyasha, Black Cat, Love Hina, Familiar of Zero, Elder Scroll series, Warhammer, Fate/stay night, Doctor Who, Dungeons and Dragons, Log Horizon/ログ・ホライズン, inFAMOUS, Mass Effect, and Dragon Age.
My reason for writing on this site is simple: I write what I would like to read.
Meaning, if I want to see something that hasn't been done, I simply write it and post it, regardless of response.
More often than not, you can find me on Spacebattles: theACEbabana
Anime/Manga/Light & Visual Novels1/2 Prince Black Cat Berserk Fate/Stay Night and all of its spin-offs and side stories. The Gamer Garden of Sinners Gurren Lagann Kamidori: Alchemy Meister Katawa Shoujo Kill La Kill Log Horizon Maoyuu Maou Yuusha ("Demon Lord and Hero") Monster Neon Genesis Evangelion Onepunch Man Spice and Wolf
Book SeriesThe Dresden Files Libriomancer The Lord of the Rings Inheritance Cycle Pathfinder Tales Warhammer 40k novels
TRPGsCall of Cthulhu Dark Heresy Pathfinder Pokemon Tabletop United
Video GamesBesiege Call of Duty: Black Ops 2 Dark Souls Neverwinter Nights 1&2 Shin Megami Tensei SMT: Persona 1-4 (I can't wait to play 5) Sid Meyer's Civilization 5 Tera Online (Friend me: Pertrubo) Anything Warhammer 40k, especially Dawn of War The Witcher
You know what Mommy
You went to the doctor today.
I can hear that doctor again.
Every Abortion Is Just . . .
One more heart that was stopped.
One more life that will never love...
If you're against abortion, re-post this. The fact that Abortion (56 Million since Roe v. Wade) has killed almost five times as much as the Holocaust (12 Million) is sickening.
Nice guys STILL finish last
To every guy that said, "Sex can wait"...
Dovahkiin of Zero- Character Stats
Name: Dovahkiinn (Cannot remember his name)
Alias: Dove Ahkin
Factions: All Factions (Companions, Dark Brotherhood, etc.), Thane of All Cities
Civil War: Undecided
Shouts: All (Need Knowledge about Dawnguard)
Combat Skills: One Handed (100) Two Handed (74), Archery (94), Block (72)
Magic Skills: Destruction (100), Conjuration (100), Alteration (76), Illusion (23), Restoration (100)
Armor Skills: Heavy Armor (100), Light Armor (45)
Crafting Skills: Smithing (100), Enchanting (100), Alchemy (100), Speech (70)
Stealth Skills: Lock-picking (100), Sneak (67), Pickpocket (85)
Armor: Full Legendary!Daedric Set, Full Legendary!Dragonbone Set, Full Legendary!Iron (Nostalgic Purposes)
Daedric Artifacts: Legendary!Ebony Mail, Saviour's Hide, Spellbreaker, Legendary!Mehrunes' Razor, Azura's Star, Ring of Namira, Ring of Hircine (killed both hunters and werewolf), Legendary!Dawnbreaker, Legendary!Mace of Molag Bal, Wabbarjack, Legendary!Volendrung, Legendary!Ebony Blade, Masque of Clavicus Vile, Skull of Corruption, Sanguine Rose.
Relationship Status: Single
A//N: If anything, I jsut post these here to remind myself that these have potential to be written out. When I get out of high school, I'm going to go on a bloody rampage writing these out. The only thing I have to lose is my girlfriend, but she's also a user on this site (I found this out after a few dates). Small country, America.
But if any of you are interestet in accepting, PM me if you want to take one up. I will enjoy reading and giving pointers.
Fate/Stay Night & Dragon Age
Fate/Origins- Archer thought that his work was over after his death in the Fifth Grail War. But Ashaka [and that meddling old man] had other plans for the Counter Guardian. Sent to a distant world where magic is feared and evil stalks the land, will EMIYA finally have his chance to fufill his lost dream of being a hero?
Archer spawns in outside the woods where Flemeth's Hut is, a month before the Grey Warden P.C. and Alistair are rescued by the woman herself. He and Morrigan develop a friendship from the get-go, as both are "apostate" mages.
Archer does not replace the Warden (whose background I will leave to the applicant's discretion). There must be "hero"-angst between the idealistic Alistair, Warden and Archer.
MISC- Or you could have Shirou come into DA:O instead of his future self. You can take whatever path from the VN, but the same rules apply above.
Fate's Age- "I seek the Champion of Krikwall and [his/her] companion, the King of Swords. You knew them, dwarf, so start talking!"
Essentially, this is almost the same as the above challenge, albeit Shirou [or Archer/EMIYA] is with the Hawke family in liu of the Warden or, in laymen's terms, is in Dragon Age II instead of Origins.
Hawke will be left up to the writer's discretion. Also, Shirou is now three years older, following whatever ending he came out of. Meaning he's out of high school and is busy generating GAR when he's sent into the DA universe.
Pairings...will be left up to the author's discretion, but I don't mind the Faker adding extra women to his harem!
inFAMOUS & Dragon Age
[Insert title here] - After activating the R.F.I. and saving the world from The Beast, Cole thought that he would actually be getting some R&R in the afterlife, right? But fate has other things in store for the tragic hero. When lightning strikes his coffin, the Conduit is thrown into a world of fantasy, where magic is feared and evil stalks the land. Though he doesn't have any idea where he is, there were always three rules he had to follow.
Do good, kick evil ass and get everything done in between.
Cole can either go into "Origins" (spawns near the Warden and Alistair when lightning strikes the tower in the begining) and join the Warden or he can go into "II" (Saves all of the family from the troll, meaning no dead Carver or Bethany) and join Hawke and [his/her] band of misfits.
Cole comes from a strictly "HERO" route from the video games. Sure, he can and will be a dick at times, but there is a line that he will never cross.
Warhammer 40k & Dragon Age
A Grimdark Shade of Grey- The Grey Knights of the Adeptus Astartes are the Emperor's hammer against the daemon, serving the Imperium faithfully for over nine thousand years. They are the thin line of resistance between eternal damnation and humanity. Now, one Space Marine finds himself on a world of monsters and magic, where evil stalks the land and threatens to overcome all. Where he shall walk, all will tremble in his wake.
A//N: Yeah, this goes along Tyrant of the East's "The God of Death", except the Space Marine in question is a Grey Knight and he ends up in the Dragon Age universe in lieu of the Warcraft one.
The Grey Knight [Insert name here] replaces the Warden. Because the Warden is essentially a blank slate, this is completely valid. The Knight himself is actually one of the more pragmatic Space Marines out there and has fought with xenos in the past when Chaos has proven to be s bigger threat.
The Crucible- My Personal Struggle and Metamorphosis (Meaning this actually happened to me)
There’s this theory that’s going around that says that without pain and suffering, nothing can be gained, also known as “no pain, no gain” in popular culture, specifically in athletic departments across the world. I would be very quiet on this subject as I had gone through a crucible of torment. However, my psychologist; excellent guy and fine connoisseur of all things Calvin & Hobbes; told me that it would be better to talk and write about it in order to properly drive the final proverbial stake into it for good.
The * is an all-boy, catholic and private school, offering education to students ranging from third to twelfth grade. Being a catholic school, The * was perceived by my naive fourth grade mind to be an institution of justice, of mannerism and God. I am sad to say that I found none of the affermoned qualities, save for God, throughout my five-year education. Stereotypical “slice-of-life” school movies depict the new kid as “fresh meat” and in elementary school. Meanwhile in real life, I was certainly no exception to this social law of the school jungle.
My early years at the school were a mess, and this was putting it lightly. Lots of people with bloated superiority complexes and overinflated egos the size of their (illusionary) masculinity liked to take out their frustrations on me via many ways. Ice-balls (in the winter) and “flying tackles” (year-round) being a few of my tortures. And what few “friends” I had did nothing to place themselves in the line of fire, no flocking to my aid, as I faced alone the receiving end of sharp stick. For two years, this went on and I was bruised all over as I listened to the patronizing teachers chide us for having “too much sugar, free time and mischief”.
You’re probably wondering why I didn’t tell my fourth grade teacher (who eventually became my godfather) or any other authoritative figure about said incidents above. [Insert bitter laugh here] The way I saw it, “ratting out,” or as they put it, “tattling,” was considered to be effeminate, and that was the last thing I wanted to be labeled with in an all-boys school.
Middle School came as both a blessing and a curse. New students arrived and that meant two choices- go with the flow or take a stand. What do you think the majority chose? I cannot say that the entire grade liked to gang up on me, but their collective mood towards my situation was both of apprehension and pity. I was some writhing lab specimen, worth their time to pause and watch but not worth their effort to set free. They were silent bystanders who did nothing, and I curse them for not having the courage to step up.
Throughout the years of my struggle, my subconscious (whom I began to refer to as “the other guy”) had started to whisper into my ear tempting hints of dark fantasies, desires of revenge against my bullies and tormentors. It gradually grew louder and stronger with every year that passed. I tried to be the bigger man in the situation, using religion to strengthen my endurance; “turning the other cheek” and “offering up my sufferings to God”, but the incidents grew worse as the bullies matured. They began to draw blood (a reckless skateboard “accident” caused by the main instigator left me with scraped elbows), and violate my personal property (locker broken into and contents read aloud in the hallway). It was too much even when the teachers began to turn blind eyes to my plight.
One day I snapped. The madness had to end and I fulfilled the dark desires of my subconscious over the last months of my eighth grade year, starting a battle that ended with my departure.
My God, it was a glorious fight. There had been small fights over the years but nothing could match a fight on the grand scale that I was the catalyst to. It was chaos in the hallway as other victims lead a berserking charge, fists flailing through the air, and we fell on each other, bully and bullied alike. We smashed each other’s faces in. The fight even took to the backwoods of the school as it was herded out of the hallway by half-hearted spectators. Most of it was lost to the adrenaline rush and unquenchable rage that overcame me, but despite the fact that my face and body was aching all over, an immense feeling of satisfaction washed over me as I beheld what I reaped after the seeds of hatred, sown into the ground of my subconscious by abusive farmers, grew, nourished by blood, sweat and tears.
The fallout from the Middle School headmaster was quite the shock. It turns out that in his perspective, I had been harboring revenge ever since fourth grade and was merely biding my time until I had “grown strong enough to strike back”. And to top it off, he called my parents for a conference in his office on my mother’s birthday, ending it with what he called a “mild punishment”, toned down by his “sympathies”- an in-school suspension, but nothing would go down on my permanent record. What respect I had for him immediately vanished, replaced by contempt and disgust as he could never understand the devastating effects of five years worth of torment. I felt the barely uncontrollable urge to spit in his face.
The rest of the year turned out to be quiet as I decided that I had enough satisfaction to last a lifetime. At the end of the camping trip, the head of the bullies, my first and oldest nemesis, "Christian", approached me and asked me to forgive him. He explained to me that when he was a kid, his mother was in the hospital for a terminal case of brain cancer that left her in a comatose state. His father knew that she was eventually going to die and, instead of “staying by her bedside after work”, “holding her hand and talking to her about the kids” and “visiting every day”, he was fooling around with another woman in “preparation for the future”. And guess what? A few months after "Christian’s" mother died, he married the woman he was (probably) screwing on the side. It did make sense as when I called him a “son-of-a-bitch”, he would fly into a murderous rampage and our traditional “once-a-quarter” fights did start with that statement.
I can’t say that I forgive him, although I have expressed so in public when the topic came up. No excuse, no matter how tragic or “heartbreaking” can ever give sufficient reason for a guy to act like a total [jerk] towards another kid, just because his mom kicked the bucket and his dad married a woman he had been seeing for at least half-a year. As of now, I’m split with indecision; my religion says that I should forgive him but I still harbor five years’ worth of hate towards him and the other bully, "Daniel".
Regardless, I had been educated inside a crucible, burned and pressurized as I was tested to see if I would break under the pressure; I didn’t shatter. With my forced acceleration into maturity, I came out of Middle School with valid credits for education about how the world works and a harder, tougher mental state to accompany me to high school. Their “crash course” of constant abuse, negative feedback and everyday torment gave me qualities and characteristics that one should never have received or developed at my age.
In high school, where others would be caving into peer pressure and smoking pot or drinking, I can easily give it a “screw that” comment that and not worry about my reputation taking a dip in the polls. Peer pressure cannot work on me and I will not cave in to the norms of what the high school society has deemed “acceptable” by the standards of “cool”. I have been labeled as a social pariah as my demeanor and stance have unsettled many of the more liberal of my peers. I laugh at their fates as, undoubtedly, some of the jocks will be pumping gas a few years from now. But I have lost so much; smiles and laughter cannot come to me as easy as before and my stance is tense, constantly looking over my shoulder for unseen enemies, never able to fully let my guard down outside the walls of my home.
I find it hard, yet easy, to conceive the thought that I can include my bullies in the people that helped me evolve into who I am as a man, holding them in high regard with my parents, teachers and friends. And though I cannot forgive them, I can thank them; the exchange was worth it. Five years of pain and suffering was given to some higher power for me to evolve into maturity with the knowledge and mind-state of an adult. The theory works and I’m a prime example, despite the fact that I’m not an athlete.
To those who say that bullying is bad, I say bullshit. Look at what it turned me into; an adult ready to face the world that's stuck in a teenager's body.
Man up and grow up, or drown in self-pity.
The only person who can save you is you.
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