/monster/ - The Last Bastion of Romance★

I, AMMIT, SHAPESHIFTING MASTER OF JUSTICE

MONSTER GIRL LOVIN'

HEAD-PATTIN'

HAND-HOLDIN'

FLUFFY TAIL TOUCHIN'

FEMDOM FETISH HAVIN'

GENDER SWAPPIN'

AMMIT WORSHIPPIN'

FURRY HATIN'

/pol/ CROSSBOARDIN'

/monster/

>>273593 (OP)

That's not a form alien to Aku.

Obligatory with every Aku related topic.

>>273918

He tried.

>>273662

>>273927

Aku is a monster girl that loves samurai jack.

>>273931

>Aku's real form wasn't the usual demonic shape we're used to, but "his" female form

>Aku's actually a girl who becomes more and more obsessed with Jack as time passes

>>274032

HOW DID I NOT SEE

>>273927

>that third pic

>"But I will never be alone - as long as I have YOU."

This is the most blatant shipping I've ever fucking seen in a comic ever.

Also, finally this thread is working again.

>>279728

Don't believe Google's lies.

“It’s cold.” The Synth mused as he felt the rain cascading against his neuroplast skin. Of course, it was cold. It was 65 Degrees Celsius and precipitation was preceding at a steady level. It shouldn’t bother him though. His endo-skeleton was made of rust proof adamantine and sheathed in human-like neuroplast. Complete with hair follicles, exocrine glands, endocrine glands, and nerve clusters. He could turn those sensors off, cut the pathways to his brain if he felt discomfort, the hum of his neuro casing audible only to his processors.

But that wasn’t the point. The cold kept him alert. He had to be. If he wanted to save Lulu, sweet thing.

His fingers began to twitch as he looked down the dark alley way, his photo-optics noting no movement as he waited silently, waited for his prey to wonder past.

The Samurai.

His grip tightened on his Suppressors, his weapon of choice. Nothing killed better, quieter, quicker than a Suppressor. At least that’s what the X series was programmed to believe.

“Heh, belief. Ain’t that a kick in the head?”

X-9 slinked into the shadow, thankful for the gloves keeping the rain, or his Sweaty palms, from causing the grip on his guns to moisten. He couldn’t afford any slip ups. Not for Lulu, sweet thing.

It was foolish thinking things would work out. He’d picked her up one day, a sobbing kobold girl in the street, not much older than 17. Protected her. Sheltered her. And when she’d sat on his lap and listened to him as he played his Sax-Vox Synthesizer, given him hope.

>>288642 continued

“Exiee? Why do you look so sad?” She asked, those big hazelnut brown eyes looking up at him as she wagged her tail.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he rasped, his voice a bored monotone. They hadn’t constructed him a more expressive voco-Synth. Why would they? For all intents and purposes his old life was dead. He was a Synth, not a man. Not anymore. Not after Kardoo. Just another X-9 among hundreds.

Until he met Lulu, Sweet thing.

“Exiee,” She pouted, her big red lips curving into a pout, “Don’t be like that! I don’t like it when you lie to me!”

“I am not lying,” he said as he patted her on the head, taking satisfaction on the silky-smooth feeling of her auburn hair, “I do not look sad.”

“Yes, you do!” She huffed, standing up from his lap, “You always looks sad when you play your music.”

“But it makes you happy,”

He said, his voice mechanical and calm.

“Well why doesn’t it make you happy too? You’re so good at it!” She said, giving him a peck on the cheek as she settled back on his lap. Her ears were drooping now, those puppy dog eyes melting the ice around his Sili-Heart as she stared up into his cold red eyes, “Please, you can tell me anything, you know?”

>>288644 continued

“It is complicated.” He said, trying to articulate his feelings, “I it was…” his neuro-casing heating up as it tried to run the data from his organic brain to his voco Synths, “It was something I used to be good at. I think. I can’t remember…” He said, shaking his head, feeling his emotions over taking the cold shell around his brain, “I do not like feeling this way.” He said, running his digits through his hair as he spoke, trying to forget about those old sensations.

The bar.

A woman in red.

Dancing, singing, playing.

A burning wreck.

A sharp pain

Cold stillness

And then…and then.

Alive.

No. Not alive, Synthetic

Man and Machine bonded together.

X-9 felt the warm flesh of his companion press against his face as Lulu pulled him into her chest. “It’s ok, X-9. You don’t have to play for me if it makes you feel bad.”

X-9 sighed, releasing the tension from his chest as his arms wrapped around Lulu’s back.

“No, I want to,” he whispered, his words barely audible, “For you, I’d do anything.” He told her, feeling the pulse of life through his body as he adjusted the sensors in the palms of his hands.

She smiled as she ruffled his hair, pushing him onto the lounge chair as she begins to pepper him with kisses. Lulu…Sweet thing.

>>288645 continued

X-9 snapped out of his delusions, cursing himself as he checked his Hunters, the little red drones scattered throughout the area. Good. No sign of movement yet. But he’d be here soon. And X-9 knew he couldn’t win in a straight up fight. The Samurai.

50 billion credits for a single man. The Master was afraid of the man. How could one man cause so much trouble? An anachronism, a creature displaced from time by the master’s will. He should have been destroyed easily.

And yet it was 4 years and he’d destroyed scores of the Master’s armies. A single man with a single piece of steel. X-9 would have appreciate the irony more, but he didn’t have the luxury.

Checking and double checking his weapons, X-9 went over the area one more time, making sure everything was in place. The Samurai’s reflexes were fast. He’d have to catch him unaware. The Suppressors were almost silent, high powered pneumatic material inside of concentrated wind tubbing. An assassin’s dream, a weapon that could fire ammunition with the same force of a gun without a sound. Granted, armor was an issue, but that’s what Red Tabs were for. And he knew for the fact the foolish Samurai didn’t wear anything more well protected than a simple white GI. All he had to do was hit him. For Lulu, Sweet thing.

>>288646 continued

“No! Let me go! Exiee, help!” Lulu screamed, cold manacles around her wrists as she was yanked to her feet, two of the newer Y- series Synths roughly handling her. She tried to say something else, only for one of the Synths to slap a mechanical device over her mouth, expanding quickly into a voice canceling muzzle. She looked at X-9 pleadingly, eyes full of fear as she struggled against her captors.

X-9’s eyes narrowed as he examined them. He’d run the calculations. There was only a 35% of him sustaining serious injury, only a 10% of total system failure. But all his odds for Lulu put her death at 85%. He couldn’t risk those odds.

The man in front, his “creator” handed him a small data tablet. “I hate to pull you out of your ‘retirement’, X-9” he said with a thick, yellow grin, “But we’ve got one more job for you.”

“Leave the girl out of this,” He said, his eyes narrowing as he tried to keep himself from breaking the man’s neck. .05% chance of his security keeping him from a fatal blow but one had a gun trained on Lulu, Sweet Thing.

X-9 gritted his teeth as he examined the tablet, reading his target’s information. “You want me to kill the Samurai?” He said, eyebrow cocked as he continued to read, “A single, outdated Synth to hunt a man that can cripple armies?” Incredulously, he handed the file back to the man.

“Well, X-9,” the man said, his large hooked nose sniffling as he took the file, “We have a saying from my homeland, sometimes you need quality over quantity. And if anyone has got quality, it’s you, my boy!” He said, his greasy hands leaving an almost imperceptible stain on X-9’s suit as he patted him on the arm. “Besides, you do this, I give you back your girl, and you’re RED in my book! Sure, you’ll be on some watch lists, but if you don’t stay in the Master’s City, you’re free to do what you want, my boy!” He said, giving the Synth a crooked, yellow grin.

It took everything in his power to keep himself from wrenching the old man’s arm free from his socket. He couldn’t tell if he was being lied to. From his pulse, breathing, and sweat, his creator seemed genuine. But he didn’t have a choice. He had to do it, for Lulu, sweet thing.

“I accept.”

>>288647 continued

Twilight had long since passed. His prey would be moving across the factory of the Hive. Most would have a problem hunting down prey in the industrial thicket, eyes clouded by smog, sounds muffled by the labor of machines that worked tirelessly to create the machines of the Master. But to X-9, he could filter those distractions out. It looked like a sunny day to him, ambient noise filtered by the sub-processors in the back of his brain casing. Wait, what was that? X-9 checked his Hunters, noting one of the little red robots was letting out the tell-tale warning cry of nearby prey, beeping nosily in his com channel. X-9 bit his back tooth, shifting his optic channel to Hunter-6. Yes. There he was. Clad in a tattered white Gi, clean shaven with a woven straw hat around his hat, the clack of his sandals against the factory floor muffled by the wind, rain, and industrial noises.

To everyone except X-9, of course.

He looked like a vagrant, a vagabond. But X-9 knew better. He’d toppled armies, destroyed countless operations of the Master. Slew his best. All just to find his way home, to kill the Master in the past. X-9 felt a dull shade of pity. This world would undoubtedly be better without the Master. He wouldn’t be a Frankenstein’s assortment of organs stuffed in an uncanny homunculus of a human body. Lulu wouldn’t have been enslaved and then left to rot in the gutter. There were times when the Master did not rule the world, but for X-9, those times had never existed. A part of him wanted to leave, to let the warrior wander on, either to finally meet his death at the hands of a more skilled warrior or to find a way to kill the Master. But he didn’t have a choice. If he had to live in Hell, at least he’d have Lulu, Sweet Thing.

Or die trying.

Another alarm. Hunter-07 found something. Switching his receptor’s to the drone’s, X-9 watched as Hunter-07 tracked the Samurai, the small robot following behind the Samurai. Good, he didn’t see it. Clacking against the walls, the robot’s legs made a whirring noise as the struck against a piece of loose brick, causing a bit of ceiling to fall to the ground. In a blur of motion, the man turned around, throwing a small, sharp object straight into the center of the bot. Hunter-07’s camera feed went dead as a small icon popped up in the corner of X-9’s visor

“Hunter Compromised.”

“He knows I’m here,” X-9 mused, dissolving into the shadow’s as he disrobed, his duster and hat following to the ground as he clicked a button, his tight, dark back “wet suit” hardening in response to the sudden exposure to the rain. Magical things, wet suits. Material is flexible enough to allow an insane degree of movement, coupled with noise dampeners in the material, wearing it was like becoming a wraith, silent and cloaked in shadow.

Slinking into the fog above the Samurai, X-9 ordered 12 of his bots to congregate. the small drones skittering across the floor as they emerged around the Samurai, pulse blasters at the ready. He dodged quickly, jumping with speed that surprised even X-9, sword slicing through the red ferrocrite material of their casing as though a hot knife through butter. Not a single bot survived the onslaught, the last one attempting to regroup before the Samurai threw another knife at it, skewering the bot to the wall, legs flailing haplessly before it finally shut itself down. Panting, the Samurai sheathed his sword, leaning against a wall by some old crates as he caught his breath.

X-9 leveled his Suppressors at his target. Virtually noiseless. Both weapons trained on his targets, the left aimed the man’s fast beating heart, the right pointed at his spinal column.

He wouldn’t feel a thing.

*Pfft* Barely perceptible, the pneumo cyclers did their work, sending a flurry of projectiles at their targets, the metallic darts guided by micro processors barley bigger than a pin’s head. X-9 felt a sliver of satisfaction as the poison coated shards found their ma-

What!?

The Samurai twisted around, using a metal door as an impromptu shield. X-9 cursed as he readied another volley, lobbing a flash grenade onto the ground as he turned off set he shielded his Photo Visor.

>>288656 continued

X-9 flipped through his logs, 13 bots down. Still have 5 left. Sending them into the facility, X-9 set them to “Track and Do Not Engage,” before jumping from his position, his grav-chute on his back lifting him into the air for a couple seconds, breezing him onto the top of the building with nary a sound. He flipped open his tool kit, holstering one of his suppressors as he extended a small stock and attached an extended barrel. His eyes were better than any scope, they’d just give away his position. Peering through the building’s skyline, he could make out the Samurai cautiously moving through the debris thanks to his Hunters. Perfect. Lining up his shot, X-9 exhaled, letting the air completely drain from his lungs, allowing his auxiliary oxygen unit to kick in as he ceased breathing. It was all about the timing. He’d have one shot. One chance before he had to reposition. For the briefest of moments, X-9 thought about Lulu, Sweet thing. Then, the Samurai came into view, his head right in the crosshairs of his optical targeter as he squeezed the trigger, sending a flurry of high speed micro darts right at his head.

Alerted to the sound of the shattering glass, and with reflexes that’d make an X- series look slow, the Samurai ducked into an old magne-crane, the darts whistling through the air before embedding themselves in the old metal structure. Infuriated, X-9 activated all the Hunters left, the little robots’ pulse blasters overheating as they broke apart the old pipes in the facility, causing steam to billow into the building as X-9 shifted his optics to infrared.

Quickly, X-9 reconfigured his rifle back into a side arm, drawing his second gun as he made a made a running leap towards the shattered skyline.

He’d have his pray yet, dammit! He wasn’t going to lose, he wasn’t going to lose Lulu!

Using the cover of the steam, X-9 jumped to the ground, his grav-chute flickering on for a split second as he hit the ground, softening his fall as he rolled into the facility, checking the monitors of his Hunters.

Cursing, X-9 ducked through the cover of the fog, cycling through his drone’s cameras. 2 down…how had the Samurai detected them so quickly!?

Rounding a corner, a flash of white fluttered into X-9’s optics. There! X-9 sent a flurry of shards into his target’s back before rolling to the side, wary of any more throwing daggers the Samurai had concealed in his clothing. A wooden post clattered to the floor, the Samurai’s coat shredded to bits by his salvos…with not Samurai inside.

Recalculating, X-9 turned around only for a slash of cold steel to meet him, his lighting reflexes barely saving him from decapitation as a gash appeared across his chest, causing a milky, white fluid to leak out of his chest as he stared into the eyes of his quarry.

Grim. Determined. Disciplined.

X-9 understood now why so many had failed before him. He was like X-9, a man with a mission. Well, at least he could understand him, even if he had to die. For Lulu, Sweet Thing.

>>288658 continued

X-9 fired another round from his Suppressors, only for the Samurai to jerk and leap into the air, the blow coming just short of the Synth’s head as he jerked backed. Twisting his blade, the Samurai aimed a strike at X-9’s midsection, only to meet the cold flesh of his left arm. X-9 shut off his pain receptors as it was lopped cleanly from the source, concentrating on his opponent’s heart as leveled his pistol again, only to be met with a kick to the abdomen, followed by a blow from the end of the man’s sword.

Reeling, X-9 tried to find his footing, only to slip on a patch of oil, causing him to topple onto his back.

The man stood over him, sword pointed at his throat, and then he did the oddest thing.

He began to speak.

“I do not know what brought you here, but I will give your final testament.” He said, his calm, clear voice audible above the hiss of the steam.

“Testament?” X-9 rasped, his monotone straining to contain the feeling in his voice.

“I give the Master’s minions the same respect, each one.” He said, “Every man deserves last words, if given the chance,” He said, cold steel pressing into the X-9’s throat.

Lulu, Sweet Thing…X-9 thought about his woman. The soft fur beneath his fingers. That voiced that always pleaded for another song. The feel of her warmth as she plied herself against his cold, neuroplast body. X-9 exhaled as he closed his photo receptors, allowing himself to embrace the feeling of his loved one as he thought about her, no doubt terrified, muzzled to some wall in the Master’s lair.

“I’m sorry, Lulu. I guess I wasn’t good enough, after all.” He said, his robotic voice managing to eke out a bit of bitterness as the Samurai frowned.

“Lulu? “He asked, looking confused.

“My wife.” X-9 said simply. Odd. He’d never called her that before, why now? “The Master has her captive. That’s why I’m here. To collect your head for her safety.”

“I…” caught off guard, the Samurai leaned back, his sword no longer at X-9’s throat, “I am sorry. I did not know. Perhaps…perhaps we could help each other?”

“Help?” X-9 said, tilting his head. X-9 began calculating odds, his brain casing whirring as he considered the Samurai’s eyes.

“I have lost many loved ones to the Master as well.” He said, “Perhaps you could help me find him? We could rescue your wife and then I…”

“I’m sorry,” X-9 told him, looking into the Samurai’s eyes with as much empathy as his cold photo optics could muster.

“Sorry for what?” The man said, confused at the Synth’s words.

“Red Tab.” He said simply, a mechanism in his gun whirring before he clicked the trigger, sending a small, red projectile at the Samurai. Jumping back just as he lifted the barrel, the Samurai just managed to clear the bullet…

Only for a massive red shockwave to explode from the small casing catching him right in the torso and send him into wall with crack of shattered bone.

X-9 lifted himself from the ground as he walked towards his opponent’s shattered form, firing several rounds from his Suppressor before reloading and putting another clip into the Samurai’s form. X-9 checked his form with his Photo Visor.

“No life signs detected: Target terminated.”

>>288660 continued

Breathing a sigh of relief, X-9 limped towards the man’s coat, delicately folding what was left into a funeral shroud before wrapping around the man’s corpse, tucking the warrior’s sword in his hand.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” X-9 told him, not that he could hear him, “Your idea only had a 5% chance of success” He said, giving the man’s corpse a remorseful glance before standing back up. He tried not to think about what’d he done. It was that or lose Lulu, Sweet Thing.

Walking outside of the complex, X-9 rang up a Comm Team to send a group of Y’s- Series to extract the corpse and repair his shattered arm. Sitting down outside the factory, X-9 looked up at the rain. His mangled arm oozing out the white milky nutrient slurry used to move oxygen through his body, X-9 turned off the flowing valves and held his hand over his wounded arm, He tried to think of Lulu, Sweet Thing, to remember those beautiful chestnut brown eyes, that curly fluffy tail, only to think of the hollow dead eyes of the only man to threaten the Master, his thoughts of Lulu, Sweet Thing, drifting to the blood on his hands. Would he be able to face her after what’d he’d done? Would he be able to live with it as she curled up against him at night, thinking of the hope on that man’s face as he offered to help X-9? Maybe. Maybe he could learn to live with it. For Lulu, Sweet Thing.

Leaning back against the factory wall, X-9 tried to clear away the guilt of killing an innocent man, the rain splashing against his eyes as he looked up at the grungy black night sky.

“It’s cold."

>>288642

>>288644

>>288645

>>288646

>>288647

>>288656

>>288658

>>288660

>>288661

I hope you're happy about the ending, you smug cunt.

Fucking cuckfish.

>>289402

Ashi is part of Aku, or was rather. Moot point now that they're both dead.

But it does say something about the foolish samurai when every woman he ever loved was just Aku in one for or another.

>>288660

>“I’m sorry,” X-9 told him, looking into the Samurai’s eyes

>"Sorry for what?" The man said

Final season was pure shit tbh. Way too much narrative focus on Ashi.

>>289657

Did you say EXTRA THICC?

>ara ara samurai~

>you wouldn't want an old demon like me

>>289774

IIRC, the song itself was recorded before Mako died, while he still voiced Iroh, meaning that he sang his own requiem all along.

>>289779

Stop making me feel

>>290909

Oh fuck me, my sides still hurt

>>273593 (OP)

>tfw she's so autistic she doesn't know how to get his attention.

>kidnaps father-in law for blessings

>freaks the fuck out when other girls talk to him

>wipes out a city in his name.

>end up getting killed by her beloved

>daughter cucks her in the future

Evil has feelings too anon.

>>290961

>Kills innocent people

>ruins families

>poisons the lands

>is the spawn of pure evil from a piece of Cthulhu's left testicle

I know evil has feelings anon but when you cause this much pain and suffering over the centuries most people lose sympathy for you

>>289760

RIP uncle Iroh, you were too good for this world.

>>291320

At least do something for the waifu.

>>291320

>You're on a plane

NO SURVIVORS