#I’m sorry for sounding sour. I’m not really in the bests of moods. Kinda unpleasant to be around right now😅

[welcome-to-green-hills]

Are you still doing the Sonic asks and AU stuff? I really miss it 😢 It's okay if not I don't wanna pressure you. It was just really fun though.

Darlin’, I would love to get back to the AU!

I’ve been asking, but I haven’t received any at all. I just… interpreted as something that people weren’t interested in anymore. I’m terribly sorry for the lack of SCU!Asks. All I can do is just leave it open and hope that there are people that are still interested in the AU.

[magicman111]

A Moth to a Flame - Chapter Two

One month later

Sasha joylessly toyed with the Music Box, opening its lid like a yawning mouth.

Who’d have thunk it? She wondered to herself. This tacky little thing could cause so much calamity?

How ludicrously out of place she looked curled up on King Andrias’ enormous throne, almost like the little girl playing pretend in the driver’s seat of her parents’ car. You’d be forgiven for not knowing she’d just led the swiftest, easiest toppling of a government in this world’s history.

Big blue dummy locked up? Check. The city’s army surrendered? Check. Their toad army less than an hour away? Check. Dimension-skipping Macguffin firmly in their position? Double Check.

Not a bad day’s work for a 13-year-old.

Marcy’s oversized sparrow was tethered to the armrest by his leg. A prize she’d taken for herself so she could cruise around her new kingdom in style. She saw to it he wasn’t under any duress, and the fact he was neck deep in an industrial sized bag of bird feed told her he was plenty comfortable.

Sasha managed a tiny smile as she reached out to run her fingers through the thickness of his coat. She dunked her hand in the bag and offered him an open palm of seeds; he eyed for a moment or two before gingerly pecking at the mound.

Thank Frog no one was around to hear the ‘d’aww’ escape her lips.

Her grandmother was the one she had to thank for her secret admiration of birds. Old lady had been a birdwatcher who ‘treated’ her to regular weekend trips into the forest when she was younger. This was long before her discovery of malls and arcades. Sasha wouldn’t dare admit it to even herself back then, but the ones they spotted together on those dewy spring mornings were beautiful to behold in their natural habitat.

Herons may now be forever ruined for her, but Joe—she thought that was his name—was a mighty impressive specimen. Poor guy somehow found the strength to carry all seven of them to Newtopia, only to nosedive into the moat at the end of the flight.

Definitely had nothing to do with her asking Marcy if she could take the reins in the last stretch. She and Anne were kind enough not to draw attention to it, same as they did the day at summer camp when they discovered her crying into her pillow. They were awesome enough to go along with her story that it was only allergies. She knew she had a true pair of girlfriends that morning.

Thinking about them only soured her mood afresh. She sprinkled the rest of the feed back into the bag and slumped against the backrest, arms petulantly crossed.

Here she was in the crowning moment of her young life and she couldn’t have been more miserable.

Maybe because her friends should have been here to share in this, but no, they had to go and act all noble. What else should she have expected? She always was the only one in the group with the guts. Anne had to be dragged kicking and screaming to ditch school and join her and Marcy in celebrating her birthday. Was it any wonder she had to keep taking control of the situation?

More likely... it was because deep down she knew she didn’t really want this. She certainly believed she did after they dropped that gloryhound newt general down a waterfall and when they successfully rallied the Toad Lords after retrieving Barrel’s Warhammer. Things only started getting complicated when they needed free tickets into Newtopia in the form of her friends.

She hadn’t counted on realising just how much she missed her clumsy, klutzy Marcy. Neither how effectively she and Anne were still able to work together as a team in spite of all the unpleasantness that had transpired between them during their time here, of which there was plenty. The fact that Anne actively encouraged her in taking down that molten toad monster was the rancid cherry atop the sludge sundae. For a while back there, it looked like they might really turn a corner and start afresh. All three of them could have gone home like none of this ever happened. Except by then it was already too late.

What recourse did she have when the Plantars invited them for the world’s most awkward dinner party or when they brought the house down at the Battle of the Bands? Tell Grime and all the toads who’d invested their manpower and futures in her that sorry, she was getting cold feet? There was only one grizzly way that would end both for her and Grime and the best scenario she could imagine involved heads on pikes.

... It didn’t matter anymore. Her friends had picked their path, she’d picked hers. As her mom always said, ‘You make your bed, you lie in it’. Funny how in her short life, she’d heard that line far too many times already.

Once she figured out how the Box worked, she’d send both Anne and Marcy on their merry way and they’d never have to see each other ever again.

Everyone would get what they want.

Good thing then she’d sent her soldiers to ransack Marcy’s room for all her research about Anne’s fateful birthday gift. Girl was a pack rat. She kept notes for every exam and project they were assigned back home. The less said about her laptop jammed with files of anime fanfiction and theories the better.

Plus, it was a good way to try and distract herself.

They came back into the throne room hauling burlap sacks full of parchments and emptied their contents at Sasha’s feet.

Daaang, girl, you've been in the zone.

She scattered them over her lap and the ample free space on the seat. They actually weren’t that hard to follow; colour coordinated with plenty of cutesy kawaii diagrams. Trademark Marbles.

Apparently, it worked a lot like those puzzle boxes Marcy got as gifts from relatives in Hong Kong. All it took was knowing the right sequence of buttons and zip! You can go wherever you want in the cosmos. Just a matter of finding the code for Earth.

‘I’m done listening to you!

I’m done trusting you!’

Sasha scowled, trying to push the thoughts to the back of her mind where they belonged. She shuffled through a couple more pages until she found the one titled in glittery green and blue lettering, ‘HOME’.

Bingo.

‘You’re a horrible person!’

Ignore. Ignore.

Now all she had to do was jot it down on her palm and—

‘AND I AM DONE. BEING. FRIENDS WITH YOU!!’

She stopped. Her shoulders drooped. Then she just threw the page down on the floor and sunk into her seat further than she thought physically possible.

She normally didn’t consider herself that thin skinned a person, but man, that one hurt.

Traces of bitter tears creeped into her eyes.

What am I even doing anymore?

The sound of footsteps on crumpling paper and someone clearing their throat snapped her out of her self-pitying torpor. She fluttered her eyes dry to see Grime standing there awkwardly among the discarded parchments.

The diminutive, one-eyed former Toad Lord was hiding something behind his back. He actually looked pretty embarrassed about it too, which for a battle hardened war vet like Grime was actually kinda adorable in Sasha’s eyes.

“I, uhh, got you something,” he said, whipping out a long rectangular present wrapped in green paper and topped with a luscious red bow. “Had it made especially for this day.”

Now if there was one thing Sasha Waybright couldn’t say no to, it was a gift, especially from a trusted friend. They were the ultimate distraction from the blues and she couldn’t have been sitting upright and tearing into this one any quicker.

“Whaaat? Grimesy, you didn’t!” What she had pulled from the ravaged packaging wielded aloft her head made her gasp. “How’d you know I wanted to duel wield?!”

It was a brand new heron sword. An exquisite green second shortsword that would compliment Ol’ Pink perfectly.

She stared proudly into the smooth steel surface, admiring the craftsmanship. When she noticed the girl staring right back at her, however, her smirk vanished in an instant. The captain of the cheerleaders, the scarred swordswoman, the conqueror of Newtopia, whatever angle she looked at it, she didn’t like what she saw. Unbelievable as it may sound, even the joy of an awesome gift like this was not enough to make everything better.

“What’s the matter? You don’t like it? Oh dang it!” Grime slammed his forehead. “I didn’t get a gift receipt!”

“No no, it’s just...” Sasha weighed the blade against her ungloved palm. Talking about these kinds of things was never easy for her. “What if Anne’s right? What if I am a horrible person?”

Grime popped up like a whack-a-mole behind the armrest. “Who cares what she thinks?” he scoffed. “You and I are in charge now, and we get to do whatever we want!”

“That’s the thing... I’m not sure what I want anymore,” she admitted wearily.

For all his years of training at the finest academies, his brutal combat in the colosseum and tactical expertise earned through a lifetime of military service as his forebears before him, this one had Grime stumped. Needless to say, talking about one’s emotions wasn't exactly encouraged during their upbringing in toad culture, so naturally it wasn’t one of his strong suits. Just one of the many things he and Sasha had in common.

“Huh.”

Still, he was a pretty fast thinker and came up with a fairly good idea on the spot.

“Why don’t you help me redecorate this place?” he suggested, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Take your mind off it. Cuz this right here...” He gestured to the cluttered mess in which she’d surrounded herself. “This is definitely not—I’m sorry, can I help you?!”

Both of them turned their heads when it became impossible to ignore Joe’s cone-shaped beak lightly nipping at Grime’s cheek.

“He probably thinks your warts are seeds.”

“For the love of—I knew he was eyeing me up on the ride here! There! Get lost!” Grime scooped up a fistful of feed and flung it over the marble floor, but the winged beast persisted with pecking his face. “Stop it! MY HEAD IS NOT A FEEDER!!”

It took an exceptional effort of willpower for Sasha not to laugh at the sight of her old man being preyed upon by the family pet.

Wow, she thought. Her old man? Was that how she saw Grimesy now? Seriously?

Perhaps up to a point. Okay, considering the options she had for parental figures back home, it wasn’t exactly the highest bar to pass, but it still meant something. Anything.

Who would have guessed this would be how they’d end up, especially given how they started off with her as his prisoner? Sure, it may have taken her helping him and the whole tower not getting turned into heron feed for her to be upgraded to his lieutenant, but they really had come a long way since then. There was a lot more honor and heart to the cranky old toad than she first thought, back when she wrote him off just as another blowhard with power. Now he genuinely considered her his equal both as a friend and comrade in arms. For Sasha, the feeling was mutual. A first for her.

When all was said and done, who else did she have left besides him and vice versa?

What the heck? Let’s tear this place up.

Untethering Joe, she whistled a tweet-tweet and gave the rope a gentle tug to encourage him to follow on their ‘indoor walkies’.

A cursory surveillance of the throne room told her there was a lot of work to be done. If this toad regime was to last a thousand years, the correct decor was an important first step. Thankfully for them, she knew a thing or two about fashion. For starters, there were way too many soft blues and purples. Rust red from top to bottom! She preferred keeping the stained glass windows, but they’d need entirely new designs. Hers truly would naturally feature in most of them, one showcasing her and Grime caving that narwhal worm’s head in with the Warhammer being an absolute must. The snakes coiling the stone pillars weren’t a bad touch, if just a bit too elegant for the whole ‘proud warrior race’ vibe they were going for, but she could still work with them. Now as for the throne, they were gonna have to replace it with something much more imposing. There was that super violent dragon show she and her parents used to watch that had the huge throne made out of swords. She was sure she had a picture somewhere on her phone to use as a reference.

“I’m sorry, what the heck is this?!”

Sasha could only denounce what they were gawking at as the single biggest affrontement to tasteful decorating known to man or amphibian. Yes, worse than inflatable furniture, carpeted bathrooms, beaded curtains, glass block bathroom windows, ‘live, laugh, love��� quotes on walls, rustic hearts, mason jars and nautical accessories all combined under the same inland roof.

Tapestries had their rightful place in a palace’s interior design, but the one sweeping across a section of wall depicting a gentle hearted Andrias sitting down by a lake, surrounded by flowers and lilypads was nothing short of vomit-inducing. Gathered at his feet and scooped up in his protective arms were his wide-eyed, childlike subjects. Even the fish and a lobster were surfacing to bask in their king’s magnanimity. Here the oversized salamander was truly the loving patriarch of everything the light touched. The mawkish display could only be topped off with a rainbow streaking across the sky.

Grime felt his stomach roile. If he ever needed an example to demonstrate the difference between kitschy and downright tacky, this was it.

“Y-y-y-yikes!” he gagged. “This thing’s gotta go!”

Sasha didn’t need a second invite. Besides, what else was Joe going to use to line his nest?

A joint effort tore the offensive piece from its place and it tumbled to the floor in a heap.

Dead silence fell over the room.

Hidden beneath the tapestry was... a mural. Including such a decoration in a throne room was hardly surprising, yet it was what it contained that shocked both the human and toad, so much so that they had to take a moment to recover.

“Woah,” they gasped at once, before starting to analyse what they saw.

The mural was a chaotic collection of nightmarish images painted on a night blue wall. Wild red flames spewing out hordes of beasts and the wreckage of buildings. Mountains of skulls and bones belonging to frogs, toads and newts alike. A flying... spaceship? A castle? Whatever it was meant to be, it firied a white beam up at what was unmistakably the Music Box. Pink, green and blue lightning bolts crackled out of the Box. Mesmerising orange gemstones or, more terrifyingly, eyes leaped off the wall and burned themselves into their minds. The frightening focal point of this one-way ticket to the school therapist’s office? Rising out of the middle of the inferno was the silhouette of a red-eyed, goliath-sized beast, its claws reaching up covetously towards the Box that hung right above its crowned head.

It may as well have been lifted straight from the tattered dream journal of a madfrog.

Any ideas of redecorating the throne room were long gone. Even the revolution they were spearheading suddenly seemed millions of miles away in the face of what they’d just stumbled upon.

Peering her eyes slightly, Sasha was the first to put a face to the shadowy leviathan, and when she did, she had to swallow her heart back down into her chest.

“Is that the king?” she asked, mystified. “With the music box?”

Sweat ran down the side of Grime’s nonplussed face. “If it is… it’s a really good thing we stopped him.”

Neither of them said it aloud, but both understood the situation at once. All this time they thought they’d been playing flipwart while the king played bog jump. Oh, how wrong they’d been. It was beyond anything that even the Toad Lords discussed. They knew that they had to reconvene with them as soon as the armies had reached the gate.

She took a couple steps closer to reexamine the mural more thoroughly, missed details emerging now that the initial shock began to wear off. Circuit board markings—the same inside her dad’s outdated computer when she foolishly dared Marcy if she could take it apart—worked their way around the images, serving as some type of frame. Odd choice for a world that didn’t even have steam engines yet. She also picked up the three small geometric figures standing atop the Box’s lid. An artist she was not, but they looked pretty human-like in design.

But humans did not exist in Amphibia. The three of them were the first of their kind to ever set foot in this dimension.

Weren’t they?

Alarm bells were ringing louder than ever before. This Andrias guy had been playing Anne and Marcy for his own ends this whole time, all to get his mitts on the Music Box! What did he plan to do with it? Right now, she still couldn’t say, but it was all bad. Outside of a kickin’ rock band, fire and skulls together were never a good thing!

Even Joe’s feathers were puffing up anxiously against her back. Not turning away from the mural, she raised her hand and patted his risen crest.

“I know, big guy. I don’t like it either.”

Grime’s voice rang urgently in her ears, “Lieutenant! Get over here, quick!!”

Sasha had spun on her heels and sprinted down the room to find Grime standing the wreckage of what used to be a display of armour. He’d evidently acted on a hunch while she’d been preoccupied. Judging by his thunderstruck expression, he’d just discovered something far worse.

“What is iooooh boy!”

This new second mural reminded Sasha a lot of Egyptian hieroglyphs. If there was any room for doubt about the technicolor stick guys, there was none here. Standing tall against an indigo backdrop in a neat row were the outlines of human beings; long gangly appendages, stumpy noses and everything. Some were wearing hooded capes, others were decked out in suits of armour. The couple in the middle looked particularly regal. No prizes for guessing the little wooden box they were holding in their hands, cementing their authority as if it were the globus cruciger.

Faded inscriptions were engraved along the bottom. They were written in a more archaic amphibian dialect, but being a toad of higher education, Grime was able to give translating them a decent shot.

These great beings of magic and might

Travelled from beyond to serve the night

Bow before these children of man

Or know the wrath of the—

“... Wu Clan?” He cocked his one good eye up at her. “Iiiii’m not getting it.”

There it was. Floodlights flashed in Sasha’s head. All colour drained from her face. A million and one thoughts were now firing across her brain at once, threatening to send her into cerebral shutdown.

It was at that moment she knew she’d been played. They all had. She didn’t know whether to be absolutely furious, betrayed or impressed.

Why that conniving, devious little—

That's when they heard the BOOM outside the window.

[kitty-bandit]

Dammit, all those asks I got today just made me slip back down into that damned Bridal Shop AU I started. And @errantknightess is asleep so I can’t bother her about it either. (It’s still your fault I started writing it, I completely blame you! XD)

Anyway, if you want to have a taste of this AU, check out some of what I’ve written below the cut. :3c

Just a little Cross x Miranda x Tyki shipping to get you all in the rarepair mood.

Tyki snatched the bottle of complimentary champagne off the front counter, pouring himself another glass. “Don’t suck down all the alcohol, Marian.”

Cross exhaled through his nose before draining the last of the champagne in his flute. The damned glasses were too small for his liking, and the bubbly, pink liquor wasn’t nearly strong enough to take the edge off this abysmal meeting. “Can’t even get a mouthful with these tiny fucking glasses,” he grumbled, stealing the bottle back and filling his glass once more.

“Just drink it from the bottle like the lush you are.” Tyki gave him a coy smirk before the flute touched his lips and he sipped at the liquid.

Cross couldn’t help but snort at the suggestion. “Staying classy as ever, Mikk.”

“You know me. I’m a classy kind of guy.” Tyki took the last of the champagne and filled his glass to the brim. He groaned as the droplets teetered out, and they ran out of booze. “Why do we have to be here for this?”

The bubbles tickled Cross’ nose as he drank again. God, he wished they had something harder. This fruity shit wasn’t going to cut it. “Don’t ask dumb questions.”

In that moment, drinks in hand, they both looked over at Allen. The damn kid was beaming, practically glowing under the attention. Cross didn’t miss the subtle changes—how Allen leaned in closer to Lavi, how his smile brightened, how he took each opportunity to touch his fiancé and lean into the casual touches Lavi returned to him. Allen was so fucking happy, it was almost sickening. Cross watched as Lavi wrapped an arm around Allen’s shoulders as they leaned in to look at a new page of suits. He scoffed, and looked away.

“He really likes that idiot, huh?” Tyki asked, offhandedly. He rubbed at his nose, golden eyes lingering on the scene not ten feet away from them before turning his back on it.  

“Seems to be the case.” It was an unspoken law between them, something from before Cross learned who Tyki was—how troublesome he was. Even though they butt heads at every meeting, and there was still some bad blood from the scant few months they tried dating, they had always agreed on one thing: No one hurt Allen Walker.

Turning away from the scene as well, Cross sucked down the last of his drink. “Yeah, we’ll he’d better treat him right. Or I’ll kill him.”

Tyki chuckled, shoulders shaking as he tried to keep from spilling his champagne. “Oh, Papa Cross coming out to play, eh?”

“Shut up.”

Taking another drink, Tyki continued to look at him, laughter creased in the corners of his eyes. “But he’s cute, at least.”

Cross did his best to keep from frowning. “He’s too young for you.”

“Mmm, sounds like the old man is jealous.”

“You have exactly two seconds to shut your trap or I’ll shut it for you.”

Rolling his eyes, Tyki sighed. “Fine. You’re a lot surlier than you used to be.” After draining his own glass, he slipped behind the counter and poked around for another bottle of alcohol. The complimentary bottle was supposed to be for the grooms to enjoy, but Allen and Lavi had been so busy looking at fabric and tuxes and suits, that they’d forgotten all about it. Cross doubted they’d care much anyway. Allen never drank (a fact that Cross had always secretly been proud of him for), and it wouldn’t have been fun for Lavi to drink it alone. He and Tyki were just doing them a favor.

As Tyki rifled around behind the counter like a looting thief, a short, mousy woman walked up to them. She carried bolts of fabric, barely keeping them all in her arms, and watched Tyki with concern. “S-S-Sorry. Can I help you with something?”

Tyki stood and shoved his hands in his pockets, his expression unworried as he eyed her up. Cross recognized the look on his face in an instant—it was the same one he used to get out of trouble time and time again. A charming smile went a long way when it came with a handsome face—and as much as Cross hated to admit it, Tyki was devilishly handsome.

“Just looking for another bottle of wine for the grooms. This one is empty,” he said, shaking the bottle as if to emphasize it’s lack of liquor. It was a blatant lie, of course, what with the grooms looking much too busy to bother with any drinks in that moment. But the woman’s eyes widened, and she nodded in understanding.

“Oh, of course! I’ll get another one right away!” She rushed off towards the backroom, and before she reached the doorway, she tripped over her own feet, dropping every bold of fabric. Tyki snorted at the scene, hiding his amusement behind his hand as he returned to the right side of the counter with Cross.

“Check out the Human Disaster,” Tyki whispered, leaning into Cross’ side as they both watched the woman gather up the fabric before disappearing in the backroom.

Tyki’s comment left a sour taste in his mouth. Cross glared at him, lips twitching into a disapproving frown. “Don’t be such a shit to ladies.”

“It’s just a joke. Calm your tits, Marian.”

“Don’t talk about my tits,” Cross snapped back, his voice still low enough to avoid drawing attention, though he looked over at the group still perusing fabric samples. They seemed unaware of their conversation, too involved in the task at hand. “Maybe if you learned a little tact, you wouldn’t be a pathetic sod living alone in that shithole you call an apartment.”

“Speaking of tact—”

Cross cut him off again, ire rising. “You couldn’t pick up a date if your life depended on it. You don’t know how to treat people properly. You can’t even be nice to a poor lady just doing her job.”

Tyki raised his eyebrows, a smug smirk crawling across his lips. “Managed to pick you up, though, didn’t I?”

Cross broke their eye contact, the slight hitting him harder than he thought possible. Of course Tyki would pick and choose what he wanted to reply to, ignoring the meat of his words. “And yet here we are, not together, and I somehow still have to deal with your antics. The universe is cruel.”

Chewing on his lip, Tyki leaned in closer. He stared at Cross, a mischievous smile on his face. “…I bet you I can get that klutzy lady to go out with me before you.”

Cross snorted outright. He shook his head and returned Tyki’s gaze with an incredulous look. “No.”

“No? What are you scared, Marian? Think you’ll lose to me, someone with so little tact?”

“No. It’s just a stupid bet to make.” Cross pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing up his glasses as he tried to ignore Tyki. “Besides, you have nothing I want. You certainly don’t have money.”

“How about something better than money?” Tyki offered. “Humiliation.”

“What the fuck?”

Tyki continued, unbothered by Cross’ reaction. “Whoever loses has to sing a song at the wedding. And the winner picks the song.”

“That’s fucking ludicrous. I’m not doing that.” He tried to pull away, but Tyki leaned in closer.

“C’mon,” Tyki needled him. “It’ll give us something to do while all this wedding planning is going on. And besides, she’s kinda cute. I’d fuck her.”

“You’d fuck anything with a pulse.” Cross paused, grimacing. “Maybe even without one.”

A pout marred Tyki’s face as he sighed. “You think so little of me?”

“I’ve seen you naked, so yeah. I do think little of you.”

Tyki snorted loudly, Kanda giving them a suspicious glare from the other side of the room before choosing to ignore them once more. They were still in the clear, and Tyki shook his head as he clapped his hand on Cross’ shoulder. “You’re fucking vicious.”

Cross rolled his eyes, letting out a long exasperated sigh. He’d forgotten how frustrating it could be talking with Tyki. It would be best to ignore him while they were stuck in suit shopping hell for the foreseeable future.

“Well,” Tyki began, his golden eyes focusing on the door to the back room. “If you’re too chicken to take up the bet, I’ll just do it for fun.”

That caught Cross’ attention. “What?”

The grin on Tyki’s face made his stomach turn, and he wished he could say the feeling was unpleasant. “Just because you won’t play doesn’t mean I can’t.”