#a red pearl stays lonely there looking for its missing pair

[nothingbizzare]

Red pearl

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

an icarus and his sun: chapter 9

A/N: oh look another scott pov :) where nothing will go wrong :)

Warnings: violence, mild description of seizure-like symptoms, falling, injury, blood mention, near death experiences, self-blame, corruption, passing out

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

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Scott lost track of time as he flew around aimlessly. Eventually, he decided that he couldn’t avoid his responsibilities or the other empires any longer, and flew back home. Night hadn’t fallen yet, but the sun was slowly sinking in the sky as he arrived back in Rivendell. Usually Scott loved to watch the sun get lower and lower in the sky and cast his empire in gold- but the ache in his heart paired with the sight that greeted him in Rivendell made the view far less enjoyable. Pillagers, witches, and ravagers had infested his empire, terrifying his villagers, infiltrating his enchanting tower, and trampling his fields. Not only that, but Scott could spot pressure plates and tripwires that he most certainly had not put up.

“Nice parting gift from Fwhip and Sausage,” Scott muttered as he drew his bow. He started by picking off the pillagers in the village. From a perch on the roof, he was able to take most of them out. The evoker that was there gave Scott some trouble with the vexes he sent towards him, forcing Scott to switch to his sword and cut them down. After that, dealing with the evoker was easy enough, seeing as his fang attacks couldn’t reach Scott on the roof. Then came disarming the traps in the village by carefully removing pressure plates and trip wires, then removing the TNT that they were supposed to rig. Fwhip being angry at him was one thing, but Scott’s blood boiled at the nerve of Fwhip to try and hurt his villagers. Next he made sure that any injured villagers got the treatment they needed, and Scott made a mental note to fortify the walls of the village.

Next was the ravagers in his fields. There wasn’t really anywhere for Scott to perch so he could shoot at the ravagers, minus the steep cliffsides that surrounded the field. But trying to defeat the ravagers head-on wasn’t the best plan either. At least Scott couldn’t see any potential traps in the fields. He just had to be sure his aim was good- which it was, in his humble opinion. And keep his balance on a rocky cliffside as well. No problem… right? The first shot he fired went wide, completely missing the ravager he was intending to hit. With a frustrated mutter under his breath, Scott readied his bow again, taking aim. This time, it was a hit, right in the gap of the ravager’s tough skin at its neck. A few more precise shots from his bow took care of the rest of the herd in no time at all. Replanting the crops they had destroyed, however, would take a bit longer.

With the ravagers taken care of, that left maybe the most difficult problem: the witches. They were all scattered around the mountain his enchanting tower was on, and they were a bit cleverer than the pillagers and ravagers were. They were hiding in the foliage around the tower, as well as the nether plants that were leaking out from the portal- and Scott could have sworn there was more of the strange red substance growing on the mountain than the last time he had seen it. But he couldn’t deal with that now- he had witches to deal with. He picked off a couple that were outside his tower as he circled around it- and then noticed that some of them were actually inside, looking far too intrigued by the crystal that powered his enchanting table.

“Oh no you don’t,” Scott huffed, quickly scanning for any more traps near the enchanting tower before flying in to deal with the witches. He caught one by surprise and sliced right through her, the witch crumbling to ash instantly. Three more remained inside the tower, and each one of them hurled potions at Scott once they noticed their fallen companion. He managed to evade the first two- poison, if he remembered his potion particles correctly, but the harming potion the last witch threw hit him right in the chest. His muscles seized and a pained shout made its way past gritted teeth, but Scott managed to stay upright. One witch lunged at him, and he barely managed to swing his sword at her, only managing to cut her arm. But even that didn't do much good- she had a healing potion at the ready. The other two witches were getting ready to throw more potions at Scott- and with how he was still reeling from the first round of potions, he highly doubted he could deal with more in this state. The witches were closing in on him, and he had no choice but to scramble back out of the tower. However they were all focused on him now, and no longer had any interest in the crystal. The way Scott was feeling, between the harming potion still causing his body to seize with pain every so often and the residual heartbroken and lonely mood he was still shaking off, they could have just kept it for all he cared.

Scott shook himself slightly. What on earth was he thinking? Yes, he was hurting both physically and emotionally- but Rivendell was his empire, his home. He wasn’t going to let Fwhip and Sausage’s horde of witches tarnish it, no matter how desolate he felt. He tightened his grip on his sword and despite the aching muscles, spread his wings as far as he could, glaring the witches down. It had the desired effect, the witches shrinking back a bit in fear. One witch was foolish enough to try and attack, and Scott was able to cut her down this time around. With a sudden burst of determination after defeating the one witch, Scott was able to take down the two remaining witches from the tower. But there were still witches below him- ones who had noticed the scuffle outside the tower and were beginning to climb up the mountain to him.

Switching to his bow, Scott took to the skies to try and pick off the witches as they tried to come up to him. But the harming potion’s effects were still lingering, and another tremor of pain took hold of Scott while he was in the air. His wings seized, and suddenly Scott was plummeting. He tried to extend his wings out and glide down, but he couldn’t quite get his limbs to respond in time. He crashed at the nether portal cave entrance, crying out as something cut his arm as he fell. He weakly pushed himself up from the crumpled heap he had become, dimly registering the witches inching closer as he gently stretched his wings, checking to make sure they hadn’t broken in the fall. Fortunately, his wings seemed to be responding normally now, and Scott pushed himself up to stand on slightly wobbly feet. He couldn’t give up now, not when there were five- no six- maybe it was five?- he couldn’t quite tell, his vision was blurring something awful- witches still approaching him. Frankly, Scott wasn’t quite sure how he was going to get out of this one. Maybe he deserved it, for what he did to Jimmy, Katherine, and by extension the entire House Blossom Alliance.

Scott looked to the mountains where his village and home were, wanting to see its beauty one last time- and happened to focus his gaze on the statue of Aeor. All at once, Scott didn’t feel quite so weary. He still ached, and his arm was stinging from the cut, but he got a sudden burst of energy as he looked upon the statue. The deer god had been relatively silent for as long as Scott could remember… was this sudden energy a gift from Aeor? Regardless of where the energy came from, Scott wasn’t going to let this chance go to waste. He drew his bow and shot down two of the witches in quick succession, clearly surprising the remaining three. They scrambled to throw potions at him, but he took to the skies again before they could land at his feet, and shot down the remaining three witches.

The burst of energy Scott had gotten was sapped as soon as the last witch crumbled into dust. He was able to glide over to the door to his home, and nearly fell flat on his face after he pushed the door open. But he somehow managed to stay upright, and stumbled over to his chests. It didn’t take him too long to find a healing potion, and breathed a sigh of relief after drinking it. The effects of the harming potion finally dissipated, and the minor scrapes from his fall healed- but the larger cut on his arm was still stinging. And then he finally got a good look at it.

The bleeding had more or less stopped thanks to the healing potion, but it was still a glaring, sickening red. But that wasn’t all. There was a pulsing red something spreading beneath his skin in a veiny web. The strange red web had already taken up most of his forearm, and he hadn’t even been cut by whatever it was for that long. And the healing potion didn’t do a thing to the cut besides stop it from bleeding.

Scott’s breath got quicker as the panic began to set in. What was he supposed to do? He definitely didn’t know what was happening, or what effect this cut and the resulting corruption in his skin would have. And he didn’t exactly have anyone he could go to for help… unless he finally got over himself and went to Pearl or Gem. They left the Wither Rose Alliance too- surely they would be on his side and be willing to help him?

His mind made up, Scott flew to Gem’s empire. She was closer than Pearl was, and was the land’s resident magic expert. Surely she could help Scott. But when Scott made it there, the Crystal Cliffs seemed vacant. Gem was nowhere to be seen, unless she was in one of her towers, in her home nestled in the cliffside, or really any other building in her empire. Before Scott could call out to Gem for help, his head spun. While the healing potion had helped at first, the stinging pain from the cut on his arm was back in full force, he was still a little battle-weary from dealing with Fwhip and Sausage’s little “gift,” and the flight to Gem’s took a lot more out of him than he thought. Scott took a step forward, intending to try and make his way towards one of the buildings in Gem’s empire- and promptly fell on his face. He laid there for a few moments, dimly realizing he should be trying to get up. But his head felt foggy and his arm stung like hell- and he couldn’t quite get any of his limbs to respond. He finally mustered the strength to push himself up on the forearm that wasn’t cut and pulsing with corruption- but that small movement took what remaining energy he had, and his arm gave out as he fell into the embrace of unconsciousness with a groan.

-

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[tothemeadow]

Serendipity [Chapter 2]

Chapter 1

When the kingdom of Ainamoryp falls, a motley crew of unlikely allies must come together to save the country.

warnings: swearing, mentions of death

words: 3.5k

(a/n): All characters range from 19-20. Reader insert, reverse harem.

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Chanswell Forest, Ainamoryp, May 3rd, 492, 18:30

Off in the distance, the sun begins its descent, bathing the sky in splashes of oranges and pinks. It’s somewhat hard to pinpoint through the thick canopy of the forest, but the last sunrays of the day still poke through the trees. The ivory steed Shouto rides upon walks at a comfortable speed; poor thing had spent most of the day galloping past farmlands and numerous villages, all in hopes of taking the prince to safety.

There’s a watchpoint south of here, hidden away in the woods. Get there, seek for help. The soldiers there will lead you to safety.

That’s what the one palace guard had told Shouto right before he took off. Chances are the guard is long dead by now, much like the rest of Endeavor and the royal court of Dinton Keep. A bitter taste lingers on his tongue, paired with a dull ache pounding at his temples. Bastards, the whole lot of them! If only he stayed, he could’ve saved more lives. It’s his duty to protect the people of his land, to ward off any potential dangers, no matter how big or small. Better yet, he has no idea why the northern land of Nialliv invaded in the first place. As far as he knew, the political relations between the two nations were perfectly fine. While they weren’t the best of friends, they weren’t enemies, either.

“Dammit all to hell,” Shouto seethes under his breath. Whatever the cause of the invasion may be, he had to figure it out – and fast.

As the sun continues to set, the forest darkens evermore. Like his father, Shouto was born with excelled magical abilities, unlike most of the mortals in the land. It was a miracle that both his mother and father passed on their traits, granting him the power of fire and ice. They serve him well, make him quite the formidable opponent when it comes to battle. He creates a flame in his left hand, casting a bright glow around him and the horse as they continue their trek through the forest. Judging by the way things are going, he might have to come to a stop and find some sort of shelter for the night. He hadn’t suspected that the watchtower be so far away from Dinton Keep.

Perhaps it’s the work of the gods or a simple miracle when he spots torches in the distance. Drawing closer still, the dimly lit watchtower comes into view, standing tall and proud. Large, weathered stones make up the walls, iron torches bolted into their sides. It’s an impressive tower, to say the least. A lone guard stands out front, swinging back a lambskin flask and chugging down its contents. He sputters as Shouto’s horse comes forth, its greeting whiny loud through the forest’s silence.

“Aye, bloody hell-“ the guard cuts himself short once his eyes land on Shouto’s face. They grow to a comical size, nearly bulging from the sockets as his jaw falls lax. “Your highness!” he croaks. “You… You…”

“Who’s in charge here?” Shouto demands, voice sharp. “I need to speak with them immediately.”

The guard nods dumbly, scrambling over to the horse and taking a hold of its reins as Shouto hops off its back. “Chances are the main chambers,” he blabbers. Now that he’s up close, Shouto can easily smell the alcohol on his breath. “Somebody inside oughta show you the way.”

With a curt nod, Shouto sidesteps the drunken guard and stalks his way inside. Iron candelabras hang from the ceiling, thick white candles steadily burning away and illuminating the hallways. A duo of guards walking in his direction come to a sudden halt upon seeing him. Like the one outside, a look of surprise dawns upon their faces, yet they still fall to a singular knee, head bowed in clear respect.

“Your highness,” the one on the right says, “what a surprise. How may we be of service to you?”

“I need to speak to whoever’s in charge,” Shouto says simply. “I presume they’re in the main chamber?”

The same guard clears his throat. “Sorry to trouble you, your highness, but Sir Rengoku took off earlier this morning – said there was something of extreme importance that he must tend to.”

Muttering under his breath, Shouto presses a hand to the lower half of his face, heaving a great sigh as he drags it downward. “Is there anyone I can speak with?”

“Prince Shouto! What brings you here, your highness?” a new voice calls out.

Turning around, Shouto is met with another man; unlike the other guards, this man’s armor is built different, the iron plates bent into sharper, more intricate shapes. A set of wings are built into the shoulder pieces and the sides of the helmet, giving the suit a mystical appearance. A plume of bright red hangs from the crown of the helmet, swishing around much like one’s ponytail does. No, this isn’t a regular guard – this is a knight of Endeavor.

The knight tugs off his helmet, revealing a friendly face inlaid with dark red eyes and a burst of burgundy hair. A pair of earrings hanging from his lobes swing as he nods his head in greeting. “Allow me to introduce myself, your highness. I am Sir Tanjiro Kamado, a proud knight of Endeavor.”

Odd – why would a knight of such high status be positioned so far way from the capital?

Straightening his back and squaring his shoulders, Shouto perceives Tanjiro with a hard look. “We need to have a talk – immediately.”

_______

Dinton Keep's dungeons, Ainamoryp, May 4th, 492, 05:23

At the first few rays of dawn, you begin to stir awake. For a moment, you wonder why you don’t feel the rock of your ship, but then the previous day’s events suddenly hit you. Ah, that’s right, you think, Endeavor got fucked over and I was put into a cell.

Off to the side, there’s slight murmuring. You recall the freckled boy you met yesterday – the healer, Izuku. What, has he resulted to conversing with himself like some sort of madman? Shifting onto your side, you crack your eyes open; immediately, you spot Izuku standing by the window, elbows propped on the sill. Although the light is still somewhat dim, you can spot the dark circles under his eyes, the sharp curve of his frown. Now that you think about it, he didn’t get any sleep last night, did he? You can’t say you blame him, either; he was present when Nialliv attacked and took over the city. Gods know the horrors he witnessed, the terrifying sounds of people screaming and helplessly being slaughtered.

“Did you find out anything?” Izuku whispers.

“No,” an unembodied voice says. It takes you aback – by the mere sound of its rasp, it’s obvious that Izuku isn’t speaking to himself. “Endeavor’s crawling with Nialliv guards, the royal grounds are bloody as hell, but that’s about it. I haven’t really seen any patrols in the surrounding farmlands, but that’s bound to change here directly. We oughta get going now before we miss our damn chance.”

“Izuku?” you drawl, voice heavily riddled with sleep. “What’s going on?”

Turning to you, Izuku flashes you a soft smile. “Good morning, Captain. We didn’t wake you up, did we?”

Shaking your head, you sit up and rub the tiredness away from your eyes. “I usually get up at dawn anyway,” you tell him.

“Oi, who the fuck is that?” that same, unfamiliar voice speaks. “Who are you talking to?”

Izuku throws an irritated look out the window. “Really, Kacchan? Do you really have to say it like that?”

“Answer the damn question, Deku.”

Izuku sighs. “It’s a pir-“ he stops, then, quickly glancing back to you. Clearly, he remembers the little outburst from yesterday and your reaction. Clearly his throat, he tries again. “A friend. She’s the captain of The Pearl Lady.”

“Kacchan” whistles, long and slow. “Gods, Deku, befriending pirates now, eh? Nice to see you finally have a backbone.”

Annoyance twinges your insides. Whoever this Kacchan is, he seems like an asshole. Scrambling onto your feet, you brush the stray pieces of hay off your clothes and stalk over to the window, taking your place next to Izuku. You forgot how tall he was, your head just barely coming up to his chest. Looking through the iron bars of the window, you’re finally met with this mysterious “Kacchan”; the first thing that catches your attention is the mop of wicked blonde hair, then the piercing red eyes training on your face. His expression is stern, nearly tiptoeing to the point of becoming angry, but he’s handsome, undeniably so. A large pair of clawed earrings stick out from either lobe, and numerous strands of beads hand from his thick neck. Whoever this guy is, you’ve never seen anyone dressed like this before.

Kacchan unashamedly scans his eyes over you, an eyebrow quirking up his forehead. “Captain, huh? Sure as hell don’t look like one to me.”

You scoff. “Excuse you, Kacchan. You look like you rolled out of a barn and mount donkeys for fun.”

His eyes narrow into slits. “What did you just say to me? Fucking brat, I’ll kill you!”

“Hey!” Izuku whisper-yells. “Keep it down! We can’t alert anyone!”

“Fine,” Kacchan spits. “I’ll deal with this bitch properly once you’re out.”

Your mouth opens, ready to rip him a new one, but then Izuku promptly yanks you away from the wall, slamming his large hands over your ears as the wall suddenly explodes. It’s not a large explosion, not in the slightest, but it’s enough to create a hole for you and Izuku to crawl out of. However, you’re guaranteed that somebody had to hear it.

Once the dust cleared away, your heart nearly stops beating within your chest. Kacchan didn’t come alone – no, he sits upon a dragon, a brilliant beast a fiery red, its glorious scales practically glowing in the early morning light. You blame your tiredness for not noticing it earlier.

“Well?” Kacchan says, looking unamused. “Are you going to stand there all day and gawk like an idiot or are you gonna get on?”

Immediately, Izuku crawls through the whole; turning around, he holds out a hand for you to take, a determined gleam in his eyes. “Well, Captain? Are you?”

For a moment, you hesitate. Here are these two men – two complete strangers – busting you out of prison, and for what? Normally, you’d tell them both to fuck off, but there’s something about the look in Izuku’s eyes that makes you think differently.

“I think it came from down there!” a distant voice shouts. Shit, it’s one of the guards!

Without another thought, you take Izuku’s hand and crawl through the wall. A gust of wind strikes your face once you’re outside. Glancing down, you notice how your cell was sitting at the edge of a cliff; the sea slaps at the jagged rocks, almost taunting you to take a fall. Your head feels oddly light, vision beginning to swim the longer you stare at the water. Squeezing your eyes tight, you feel Izuku pull you into his chest, the smoothness of the dragon’s scales as you land on its back.

“Alright, let’s blow this joint!” Kacchan exclaims, cackling wildly as the dragon takes off into the sky.

“Wait, wait, wait!” you shout.

The wind blasts your ears as you pick up speed, your clothes and hair flapping wildly. Kacchan only continues to laugh while you throw curse after curse at him, telling him to slow the fuck down before all of you get killed. Izuku’s chest rumbles as he chuckles, his thick arms tightening around your waist to keep you still.

Gods, you’re really flying on a dragon. They were meant to be creatures of legend, be told through tales of old and new. They’re the work of dreams and imagination, not reality. But no, here you are, zipping through the sky with nothing holding you back.

And by the grace of the gods, you want to be let down.

________

The outskirts of Levalon, Ainamoryp, May 4th, 492, 09:03

“I take it that you don’t get to travel very often?” Tanjiro speaks, tone light. Together, he and Shouto ride side by side on their horses; unlike Shouto’s beautiful ivory mare, his is a simple russet brown in color. It’s nothing to brag about, honestly, but his horse is strong.

Shouto hums in response. “Unfortunately, I’m afraid. My father often kept me busy with royal duties and studies. I hadn’t much of a chance to visit the surrounding villages.”

“Well, then hopefully you’re in for a treat!” Tanjiro chirps. “Levalon is nothing like Endeavor, but it’s a sizeable town! I’m positive you’ll like it.”

“You know,” Shouto says, glancing at Tanjiro from the corner of his eye, “you’re pretty optimistic for a knight. It reminds me of a great friend of mine.”

“I’m glad.”

Up ahead, the stone wall surrounding the town of Levalon comes into view. The bray of a donkey echoes as it passes through the archway carved into the wall, the wagon attached to its harness rumbling away over the pebbled path. It’s such a strange sight to see, this level of normality. There’s a group of kids playing tag in the grass, their carefree giggles carrying through the wind. As Shouto and Tanjiro draw even closer, the chattering coming straight from the market streets is already loud and frantic.

“It pains me to know that this town won’t be like this for much longer,” Shouto comments. Tanjiro remains silent; he knows Shouto is right, but it’s a hurtful thing to even think about.

As the two trek into town, they’re met with hustle and bustle of everyday life; people come and go from the market streets, either rough spin sacks over their shoulders or a wicker basket in their arms, children running down the street, a shaggy mutt following close behind, a hidden figure in a cloak snatching an unsuspecting person’s coin purse-

“Wait a second!” Tanjiro calls, hopping off his horse and hitting the ground with a metallic clank. The hooded person spares a single glance Tanjiro’s way before they take off at a breakneck speed in the opposite direction. Again, Tanjiro yells as he gives chase after him. Sighing, Shouto looks to Tanjiro’s horse; it stands where he left it, shaking its mane and looking around. Ah, so it’s devoted to its master – how lovely. Shouto respects the notion no matter the creature.

The horse whinnies as Tanjiro returns, face flushed and eyes wide. “Dammit, that thief is fast. No matter – I know where to find him.” Cocking his head, Shouto peers at the other inquisitively. Tanjiro merely grins, a finger reaching up and tapping the end of his nose. “Would you believe me if I told you that I have a good sense of smell?”

“I wouldn’t doubt it in the slightest,” Shouto replies.

Tanjiro’s smile grows, his eyes crinkling. “Thank you kindly, your highness-“ Immediately, his smile drops as his nose twitches; oddly, it reminds Shouto of a hound when it’s attuned to a kill, to the fresh scent of spilt blood. Tanjiro cranes his neck to the sky, his mouth falling lax. Following his line of sight, Shouto looks up, his own jaw dropping as well.

Amazingly enough, a dragon flies far overhead, its bright red belly twinkling in the morning light. Shouto’s heard tales of dragons ever since he was a young boy still feeding from the wet nurse, of how they conquered great lands, of how saved the lives of their worshippers. While it’s a common tale that dragons allegedly went extinct, it’s perfectly clear that they haven’t.

“By the gods,” Tanjiro mutters, voice full of wonder, “a real live dragon. Do you think it’s heading towards Dovahkiin?”

“There’s only one person I know who’s of Dovah descent,” Shouto grunts. “Why he’s here, I don’t know.”

“It wasn’t part of the attack on Endeavor, was it?”

“No. The fires weren’t caused by such a beast – they were created by monsters.”

Tanjiro hums. “Well… Wouldn’t you want to ask your friend for help? If you’re planning on taking back Dinton Keep-“

“I refuse to ask him for help,” Shouto interrupts, a scowl pulling at the corners of his mouth. “In fact, I’d rather not see him at all.”

________

In the skies, Ainamoryp, May 4th, 492, 09:10

Kacchan sneezes.

“Ugh,” he drawls, shaking his head. “Some idiot’s probably talking about me.”

“There’s not much to talk about,” you say offhandedly. Izuku snorts in amusement, but it quickly turns into a cough to cover it up.

Kacchan jabs a finger in your direction. “If it was up to me, I would’ve thrown you off a long time ago, sweetheart. Don’t press your fucking luck.”

After flying in the air for a few hours, you’ve grown used to the feeling of the dragon’s muscles flexing underneath you, the strong gusts of wind continuously hitting you in the face; however, you refuse to look at the trees and fields dotting the land below. You’ve also grown used to Izuku’s and Kacchan’s presence, although the latter is a bit too sour for your liking.

“Whatever you say, Kacchan,” you bluff. You actually wish that he won’t, but you also refuse to admit that as well.

“For fuck’s sake,” Kacchan hisses, “it’s Katsuki. Only that dumb Deku calls me Kacchan.”

Furrowing your brows, you look over your shoulder at Izuku. “Katsuki? Why didn’t you tell me that?”

Laughing awkwardly, Izuku scratches his cheek, an embarrassed flush blooming on his freckled face. “Well, like he said – I’m the really the only one who calls him that, and it’s been that way for years…”

Katsuki rolls his eyes. “Yeah. So.” Training his vivid eyes on you, he flashes you a sneer. “You’re a pirate, right? How the fuck did that even happen?”

“That’s Captain to you, boom boy. Ever hear of The Pearl Lady? Yeah, that’s mine. And, if you don’t watch your tone, then I’ll happily show you a close up of what a cannon looks like when it’s going off.”

Katsuki laughs, then, a wicked smile curving his lips. “You’re a feisty one, I’ll give you that. I like ‘em feisty.”

You scoff. “Damn hog,” you grunt. As much as you’d like to curse him out, he’s similar to Izuku when it comes to size. Katuski is tall – even more so than Izuku, you reckon – and he’s huge, a singular bicep almost the size of your head. He could easily toss you off the side of the dragon if he truly wanted to.

“We should take a rest stop,” Izuku offers. “Plus, we need to figure out a way to get in touch with Shouto-“

An animalistic growl rumbles in Katsuki’s throat at the name; he snarls at Izuku, even lashes his teeth.

“Gods,” you start, eyes going wide, “what the actual fuckis wrong with you?”

“I won’t do anything with that icy piece of shit,” Katsuki snarls. “How do ya even know he’s alive, huh?”

“There wasn’t a body,” Izuku presses, expression going dark. “Besides, I’d think they would’ve bragged more if they killed both the king and prince in one foul swoop.”

The prince? Like the prince of Ainamoryp? Gods, if he truly is missing-

“That’s our only chance, isn’t it,” you say, voice flat. “If Ainamoryp is to stay alive, the prince is needed to take the throne.”

“Yeah,” Izuku tells you, “that’s exactly it.”

You inhale sharply.

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Katsuki spits. “I’m not even from this damned country. It’s not business whether it burns to hell or not.” With a shrug, he crosses his thick arms over his chest.

Anger roars in the pit of your belly, climbs up your insides and encases your heart. How dare he say such a thing, especially to yourface? You’ve crossed the seas, visited the lands, but this is your home. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t, but you had to do something. Shooting forward, you grab onto the straps of Katsuki’s cape, snarling as you lean in close.

“Born here or not, you don’t get to say anything, you bastard. Lives were taken for no damn reason, and I wasn’t even able to walk around my own hometown without being thrown into a cell. If you hate Ainamoryp so much, kindly drop me the fuck off and get bent.”

Katsuki’s eyes are large as you push away from him, settling back in your spot before Izuku. Surprisingly, neither say a word; instead, Katsuki turns around, shuffles up the dragon’s neck, and takes the reins in hand. With a simple yank, the dragon is making a sharp turn, heading back towards the town you previously flew over.

“If you want to find that stupid prince,” Katsuki shoots over his shoulder, “Levalon’s the best chance you got.”

======

Time for the first choice in this "pick your own adventure" piece! Will you stay behind with Katsuki or go into Levalon with Izuku? Voting closes on June 6, 2021.

[the-moon-prince]

The Last Of us~Kurapika x Reader ~Chapter X

AN: Hi my lovely fellows!

I’m sorry for the delay! Thank you so much for your patience and support! I’m here with the new chapter! I jope you will enjoy.

I wish you a pleasant read, and I hope you’ll enjoy the new chapter of my story.  (Chapter I) (Chapter II) (Chapter III) (Chapter IV ) (Chapter V) (Chapter VI) (Chapter VII)(Chapter VIII)(Chapter IX) (Chapter XI coming soon!)

Paring: Kurapika Kurta x GN! Reader

Word count: 2 652

TW: Mentions of Hospital ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The swings.

(Y/n) loved swings. So charming and amusing.

Even if they couldn't play like the other children, they could always go to the swings. Waving forward and then backward. Heights frightened them and even now terrified them. But with the swings, it was not like that. They felt brave and free. They had visited many. However, they remembered one in particular: the one that his grandfather gave them. The one in the garden of the house where they grew. When they swung, they could see the clouds and the sky. Knowing that their family saw the same azure as they did. They remembered the wildflowers that flourished at the end of the tubes that held it. They had quite a few memories of that swing. That also took place in that location. Their mami's face of horror at seeing them on the ground coughing blood tormented them for a while.

They were back in the hospital. They knew that they would return.  The lonely hours where no visits were allowed seemed long, even reading.

The moments when they were able to be with their grandparents were joyous. Perpetually trying to smile so they wouldn't worry about them.

"(Y/n)!"- a voice cried their name.

They lifted as fast as they could, responding as well as the tubes in their throats allowed.

"Julian!"- They felt so relieved to see him. Each night they spent awake, believing that they would never see him again. The boy, despite being simply 2 years older, was much taller than them. He ran to them sobbing and held them as if they were going to vaporize.

Because that's what they believed.

"(Y/n)!"-he sobbed their name again-"I'm so sorry; I'm so sorry; I shouldn't have left you alone that day. Not because you can't play ball with me, I want you to leave me."-his grip tightened.

They were weak, and their arms were shaking. Yet, that did not prevent them from returning the hug with all the strength that their small body had.

"It doesn't matter anymore. I'm not upset right now."- they consoled. 

If they were in his village, the two of them would look more like animals. Julian's tail would surely shake restlessly, and (Y/n) would rub their cheeks into him. They would be cat and dog, but they loved each other so much. Regularly playing clapping games, going for walks, reading together, or playing video games together. It's not like (Y/n) had someone else. From an early age, they had had difficulties relating to other cubs, including adults. 

"Julian, watch out for running! They are going to scold us!"- a sweet voice called. Immediately two elders entered, their hands full of bags and gifts.

"Mami, Papi! Hi!"-they greeted, already smiling.

It was an afternoon full of laughter, cake, sweets, and gifts. They played cards and chess - matches (Y/n) won- watched movies, read new books, and hugged stuffed animals. Except it was not (Y/n)'s birthday. 

Only visiting hours end sooner or later. And their company had to withdraw. The only difference was that the man stayed a while longer. Opposing hospital rules, which, as a doctor, he had never done previously. (Y/n) stared at him for a moment, not delivering eye contact, until they looked up.

"Papi, I'm going to die?"-they were looking directly in his eyes, searching for a response. 

They had a particular method of expressing their feelings, but that didn't mean they did not feel-they possibly felt with more intensity than the majority. Most would expect a kid their age to cry in that situation, but they did not cry. They were smiling.

"(Y/n)..."-the old man whispered and sat near them. He hadn't the courage to say it.

"I can't tell you that. However, if I can tell you one thing."-he took out a small case from the pocket of his trousers. He held their hand and placed the present in their palm-"Whatever happens, I'll be with you. Wherever you go, you will not be alone. And if so, you have nothing to fear."

When they parted the lid of the box, in its inside covered in red velvet, laid a pair of earrings. They were drop-shaped pearl pendants. A peculiar gift for a kid their age. Most would give jewelry like this to someone older.

"My grandfather gave them to my mother, she gave them to me, and today I give them to you."-he continued-"When you have them on, I will accompany you wherever you go. Since our auras live in flowers, a part of mine lives in those earrings. I'll be reminding you who you are and where you come from. So don't forget that you have a home to go to. Don't be afraid (Y/n)..."

The room's door was locked, and the curtains were down. The old man did not own the same appearance as moments ago; he resembled a massive wolf. Intense but soft fur and a spot on the right ear. He knelt to be at the child's height. They looked into each other's eyes, which some say are the door to the soul, for a long time. Without vociferating a word.

"I love you (Y/n)."-he wept, holding his tears.

The mentioned one offered him a smile.

"I love you, Papi."-they mumbled. They leaned forward to hug him, taking the opportunity to snuggle in the older's neck fluff.-"But I am not afraid. Not at all."

The man hugged them back. His paws were so big that they would definitely fit them into just one of them.

After that, he left, promising that they would return the next day.

What they told was a lie, they were afraid. They sobbed enormously that night, except they didn't want their family to see them that way. 

~

Kurapika opened one of his drowsy eyes, not feeling the embrace anymore. For a moment he was scared of being alone, that it was all a dream. Though (Y/n) was right next to him. Sitting on the mattress, their backs on the bed frame. They were not sleeping, just staring at the emptiness.

"(Y/n)?"-he groaned, the voice hoarse from sleep.

The appointed blink, as if dispersing the spirits that had them trapped.

They turned their heads to detect where the voice was originating from.

"Kurapika?"-they whispered, the speech clear.-"My apologies, did I wake you?"

"No. Rather, what are you doing awake?"-he was already awaiting the worst.

"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. Don't trouble yourself,  please."-they quietly answers with a smile. 

How could they request him not worry for them? You can't stop caring about what you love. 

"What hour is it?"- he inquired, a bit bothered about the fatigue they might receive in the morning. At least it was Sunday, meaning neither of them had to labor. They would have the possibility of recovering hours of rest if they required it.

After a few seconds of silence, they answered-"4:37."

Kurapika knew the hard nights when attaining rest in a lonely bed seemed tedious. The difference is that they were not abandoned.  He was there for them and wasn't intending on leaving anywhere anytime shortly.

At least they hadn't had a nightmare, if so they would have told him so, right?

He lifted the blankets as a symbol for them to lie down next to him over. He didn't know if they would. Simply with them reclined anew, he would be satisfied. They paid obeisance to him, approaching and lying down nearby him. They came face to face. Kurapika enveloped his arm over their body, they did not hug him back. Yet, they pressed their forehead on his chest.

~

The morning was peaceful and pleasant. Kurapika and (Y/n) were sipping coffee and eating leftover cake from the night earlier in the salon. A disk was playing on the record player. The melody was smooth, the saxophone and the lyrics combined quite well. The silence among the two was charming. From time to time, they were silent, in the same room, just savoring the existence of the separate person. Not because they had nothing to tell. Rather, it was a matter of having their own spaces without isolating themselves.

Except, the silence always finished up breaking.

"I suggest we watch a film tonight. Today you can choose it if you'd like."- Kurapika enunciated, happy to spend quiet time with his lover. Having relaxing nights was rare.

"I...I deem the most convenient thing is for you to come home."-they hesitated, to resume right away-"Not that I don't want to be with you. I'm pretty occupied tonight, and I don't wish for you to miss a night of rest."

The answer surprised him at first.

"Are you going to cover someone in the unit anew?"-he questioned fully of irritant. They were profiteers with (Y/n). His companions rested on their professional integrity and goodness. Kurapika got tired of seeing his lover could stay awake nights in a row to cover night shifts or take care of delegated documents. He knew they would not leave a patient to their own fate; although he foresaw to have a discussion concerning it with them.

"No, not this time."-(Y/n) disclosed. If it was simple paperwork, they did it often with him, as long as he did not interrupt them.

"What will you do?"-he scoffed this time, no commitment had been mentioned to him. Although they had a poor mania to omit some points, not maliciously; globally they were details. That was not a detail.

They resembled uncomfortable. Kurapika already recognized their body language, and despite their perpetual smile, he could read them.

Their gaze was downcast, shoulders hunched, and they played with the edges of their sweater sleeves.

"I'm going to reclaim someone from my clan..."-they wept after a moment of the uncertain reserve.

From the beginning, (Y/n) had helped him regain scarlet eyes. Getting information and accompanying him. Nonetheless, they hadn't mentioned anything about getting their clan back. No contact, no remains, no meeting. Until today. Why? They were trying to preserve him? Did they want to avoid him at a distressing moment? Kurapika believed that retaining such secrets had ended since their discussion. That stubborn part of them that dedicated obstinately to secrecy frustrated him.

"(Y/n)."-he scolded once more.

They narrowed more as if craving to hide from his gaze. He wasn't mad at them. But it frustrated him that he was powerless to help them.

"(Y/n), I'm not angry."-his tone softened-"I desire to accompany you."

Their posture decompressed, though they started to fidget more.

"It will be a rather longspun night. It will be tiresome."-they maintained.

"I do not tend."- He would stand firm with this.-"I am here to assist you."

They suspired-"Thank you, Kurapika."-They had communication difficulties to solve, and weren't oblivious. 

"What time will it occur, where and with whom?"-he hinted, making sure to know the circumstances.

"The event will be held with a private collector. At his residence at 8:40 pm."-they specified-"Only that there is a relevant detail."-they added with a cautioned voice.-"The collector is another hunter."

The collector is another hunter. Not for lack of ability, but for the votes that restrained their children. It would be necessary to rely upon the strategy to evade some violent confrontation. On top of that, their identities could be in check.

"As it is clearly practically impossible to hide the fact that I am a hunter, I presented myself as a mere fellow hunter fond of oddities."-as suspected they already had a method.

"Regarding your company, we can pivot on my weak appearance."-they continued with the strategy-" He will never believe that a hunter would require a bodyguard, but an assistant is plausible. He told me that the "merchandise"- saying that last word with disgust-"will be weighty."

"I perceive that you had the strategy ready. That's why I don't worry. I'll stick with it."-regarding the tactical abilities of (Y/n), Kurapika did not waver. Their experience was remarkable.-"Still, you must tell me these genera of things."

"Reasonable, my apologies."-they bawled. 

Kurapika wasn't going to reprimand them. He was aware that they were not doing it maliciously, the communication obstacles were rather difficulties. He could never get mad at them for having some kind of challenge. 

~

The place concluded up being in an upper-class suburb of YorkNew. For the other hunter to live there, it had to be wealthy. And to be wealthy he had to be skillful. For this occasion, (Y/n) did not use its own vehicle. They rented a truck with a roomy hood. Once the house was spotted, they parked the truck far enough away for the details not to be well distinguished -being black it was conveniently camouflaged with the darkness of the night-but close sufficient to get there quick running. 

Before going down, (Y/n) was silent for a short moment. Without moving from the driver's seat. Their pupils would look very dilated if it weren't for the contacts they were wearing. They both wore, so as not to give any kind of clue about their origins. Followed by that silence, they closed their eyes and pronounced a rhyme while poking their chests with two fingers, in a language that Kurapika did not understand. A mantra for good luck, perhaps.

There was no security of any kind seen from the facade. They walked to the front door, which was quite high and made of black wood. Shortly after the bell rang, the door opened. Revealing a man, about 31 years old, but he looked younger. It couldn't be said that he had good taste in dressing, but the clothes they wore were of great quality. His hair was somewhat lengthy yet shorter than Kurapika's and ash-black in color. His aura felt dense and heavy. It was easily deduced that he had no intention of hiding it.

The man, like his aura, was imposing. He made them notice it as if testing their courage and challenging them to enter. Almost as if they were unworthy. 

"I presume you are (Y/n)."-he said, waiting. His voice was considerably gruff. The kind of speech that tilts in your eardrums.

"Precisely, a pleasure."-(Y/n) greeted, pulling their hunter license out of their wallet and showing it.

"Good, and he?"-the man pointed at Kurapika.

"Kurapika is here to assist me. I remember listening to you specify that the object was going to be substantial."-they reported hurriedly. Their tone of speech did not denote fear or insecurity. They weren't happy with the rudeness of pointing their lover

"I see. To be a hunter you look frail."-he expressed-"Come in, come in." The walls of the house were wide and the ceiling high. The interior was mostly light gray. The decor had a pretentious modernist tendency. A large number of objects stood out. Of all kinds, but all rare and peculiar. Shelves placed well in sight, figures, frames, vanities. They followed the man through corridors to a small bar, its wall full of bizarre exoticisms.

 If it weren't for the assiduousness they were displayed in, one would say that the person was an accumulator. The idea that the person had become a hunter just to gain privileges and the ability to purchase ostentatious exclusive treasures was more and more evident.

"Let's sit down and have a drink."-the man bossed. 

"Oh, don't bother. We-"-they got interrupted by the man. It was clear he was vulgar despite his money. 

"I don't bother. I want to make sure that I'm not selling one of my prized items to anyone."

[wisepuma23]

Lost in the Starlight

So I decided to take the prompt challenge by @sanderssidesspook ! However, my take on the challenge will be different. There are so many great AUs in this fandom that I want to write for, so might as well hit two birds with one stone, and write a Halloween ficlet for them!! Today I’ll start with @teacupfulofstarshine LDAD AU + corn maze. Uhh, you’ll see!

Warnings: offscreen violence, swearing, implied death

Word Count: 1, 838

Pairing: Romantic Analogical 

Read on AO3!

Logan didn’t want to go on this ‘road trip’ but Roman and Patton absolutely insisted on visiting the human world. Virgil, however, wanted to stick close to the coastlines and smell the sea spray and Logan was inclined to agree. Straying so far from home made his insides twist with a feeling he didn’t understand.

Unfortunately, Thomas needed to go inland for a conference. Something about a scientific meeting about rising coastlines and the implementation of hydroelectricity on a national scale. Human stuff.

His pod practically begged to go with Thomas, but after their traumatic parting three years ago, Logan couldn’t stay behind. So Virgil grudgingly decided to come with, as their tour guide, since Thomas would be preoccupied with meetings.

Virgil dropped Thomas off in a place with glittering mountains. He’s never seen them so tall and square. His fins rippled in excitement at the order of it all. In the streets, there were lights strung up through the trees and creatures that had him ducking down out of sight. He thought Virgil said there were no other creatures who had claws as Logan did. Or was he lying?

Fake.

Logan mulled over the word as he squinted at the fake creatures. Virgil still giggled as they drove through the dark trees. He explained it all punctuated with muffled laughter. Halloween, what an odd word. 

His own smile tugged upwards. He would never tire of the sound of his mate’s laugh. Beautiful as the pearls in seashells. Roman and Patton squealed as their fins rippled as if in a storm as more creatures walked through the streets of the small town.

Their claws were fake. Plastic teeth and temporary makeup all for the purpose of a holiday. Whatever that is. Logan hissed as a small one with fangs and a black cape walked too close. It startled and ran off. Roman and Patton laughed. Almost like they enjoyed the feeling of fear. Logan rolled his eyes, then again, Roman was the one who often dove into the deep end without looking.

“Oooh, what’s that?” Patton pointed over Virgil’s shoulder, as Virgil yelped in surprise and almost yanked the wheel into the opposite lane.

Logan squinted at it in the darkness. It was a sign written in English with a giant yellow object above it. He dug his claws further into his sweater, his eyes worked far better underwater, up here they were useless. Glasses irritated his scales but he wore them anyway. Tch, he couldn’t protect his pod like this. What could he do? Flop around and squint?!

A hand tugged on his own, gently prying his claws out of his sweater, and squeezed. Logan met Virgil’s eyes, the same color as the world outside, brown and soft as the ground outside. The fist of icy anger in his chest melted.  

“It’s a sign for a corn maze,” Virgil said, excitement creeping into his tone, “They’re more popular around Halloween. I forgot that they had them here,” Virgil scratched his head, almost embarrassed as he admitted, “Corn mazes are one of the few cool things we have inland. You can’t exactly float up and over it like your reed farms.”

Logan’s face warmed as Virgil turned to him with a smile as the backseat chanted, “Yes, I would love to see a ‘corn maze’. It sounds...interesting.”

So, really it was his own fault.

Logan stared up at the stars and shivered under the coolness of the moonlight. The rustle of the corn like a steady heartbeat in his ears. The ground roiled with movement and scratching his poor eyesight couldn’t pick up. For all he knew, a shark could be circling him.

Virgil had given him and the others a wheelchair with a specially designed pouch for their tails. Then heavy blankets over their laps to keep their tails warm and covered. However, he hadn’t realized how hard it would be to push against the uneven grass and roots of the corn. Roman and Patton went on ahead, Logan encouraged Virgil to catch up, and he never did.

And so, he spent the better part of an hour utterly and hopelessly lost.

“It’ll be fun, they said,” Logan muttered as sweat dripped down his temples, pushing his wheels forward on the small path, “It’s not even a big maze, they said. Well, bullshit.”

With a grunt, he rolled into a clearing.

Logan blinked around the flattened circle of grass. Was this the center? He sighed a breath of relief as his wheels didn’t squeal in protest. Even ground, how I missed you! He looked up and bit down on a scream.

A man hung from a post with his arms out and his legs limp. A big hat, much like the farmers here, hung low on his head. He didn’t know it was a human practice to hang their dead in the middle of corn mazes. Logan rolled forward as he squinted up at it. He took in a hard sniff.

Straw and dirt.

Not the rot of flesh and bone.

Logan tilted his head as he remembered Virgil’s huff of laughter from earlier. Fake. This man must be one of those costumed creatures walking out there tonight. Logan raised up a hand to touch it when--

“Whoa there, pardner,” a deep voice drawled, Logan snapped his hand back, “Awfully rude to touch me without even introducing yourself first.”

Logan looked up and his gills stuttered in surprise. The scarecrow had a face underneath its dark brim. The eyes were crossed black stitches and its mouth hung open with yellow teeth that reminded him of the sea snakes in the shallows. Sharp and thin and too many to fit in its stuffed head. Logan raised an eyebrow, he could’ve sworn the creature had a stitched mouth earlier.

“Oh excuse me,” Logan said as he smoothed his hands down his lap, “My name is Logan. I apologize. Your culture is still new to me.”

Silence echoed through the yawning fields for a few moments.

The man cackled, its whole body rocked the pole with the force of it. Logan dug his claws into the metal armrests. It was the truth!

“For a creature concerned with my rudeness, you don’t consider your own,” Logan snarled, “I should hope to learn your name in retaliation.”

“No, it’s just funny, I’m not human either,” the man giggled, the sound made his fins itch to propel himself far and fast, “And my name, sir? Why it’s been so long,” it looked up at the moonlight, “Call me Scarecrow.”

“You’re wrong! I’m a human!” Logan shouted up to it.

Scarecrow slowly looked down at him, “No, you’re not. I can smell the sea right off ya. I’ve never had fish in so long…” its mouth opened to an impossible length, as rows of teeth caught the moonlight, “I’ve kept all the crows away. Away, away, little birdies! Why I’m a little hungry now after my hard work.”

Shit.

Scarecrow smiled as it jostled in its post again. He could tell the jig was up. Logan couldn’t hide the truth from another….creature. A different species of other Scarecrows? He shoved the questions aside about the cruelty of humans stringing something alive in their fields.

Logan wheeled back, “You won’t find me easy prey. I’m a formidable predator myself,” Logan bared his teeth as his eyes glinted in the moonlight, “Sharks have met messier ends at my hands.”

Scarecrow’s smile disappeared, “You’re out of your fishbowl, little goldfish.”

Logan bristled and opened his mouth when--

Wood splintered and cracked like a thunderclap in the hushed fields. Logan thrust his arms up against the blast. Wood debris bounced off his arms but tore his sweater into rags. Damn it, Thomas gave him this one for ‘Christmas’. Logan squinted into the darkness, ears straining for any sound, any foot fall.

Up high above the fields stood a lonely post.

And no Scarecrow.

A guttural snarl cut the night as a gaping maw of teeth overcame his vision. The wheelchair clattered against the ground, wheels spinning uselessly in their sockets, blankets sodden against the dirt. Blood splattered the homemade designs of stars and planets. Splatters of red against the milky blue of Neptune. Ripping and snarls echoed through the air.

Then silence.

The corn rustled indifferently, the reeds whispering against each other, as the fireflies danced above the maze. Flowers bloomed drinking in the cool moonlight, petals delicately held up to its pale face. Mice twist and turn in their homes as they slept. Then blink one beady eye open as footsteps stomped through the quiet peace of the evening.

“Logan!” Virgil shouted, his voice crackling after screaming himself near hoarse, “Where are you?!”

Flashlights swept through the corn stalks. The murmur of people and the static of radios. Virgil ran a hand through his sweat-drenched hair. It only took the others to find the center and get back out again in twenty minutes. Not...not two hours! Shit, he’s heard stories of people going missing or even found dead in corn mazes.

He wanted to curse his own stupidity. It could stand to reason that if mermaids existed, why not others? Flashbacks of Bigfoot and Wikipedia rabbit holes of various cryptids ran through his mind. If he found a Child of the Corn, he’ll be drop-kicking them before Thomas can break out the lollipops.

He wanted his fucking boyfriend back.

Virgil pushed aside the stalks to the center of the maze. He’s swept this place so many times in the past two hours. Like every ten minutes but he never saw hide nor hair of the missing mermaid. The police chattered into their radios but the sound grew distant.

Virgil’s flashlight landed on a straw-covered mass next to a knocked over wheelchair. He tore out into a run as he made a strangled noise of Logan! Virgil muttered curses as Logan blinked blearily up at him. Blood trickled down his temple and faint scratches down his arms. Virgil swore bloody murder as he saw ripped fins up and down his arms.

“My….tail…” Logan said, his voice strained with the effort, “The others…”

Virgil looked down and red mist overcame his vision. More ripped fins and long red scratches like someone jabbed a knife and went to town on his boyfriend. Virgil pulled Logan into a hug, relief overcoming his anger and fear for a brief moment, reveling in the fact he was alive.

“Don’t you know?” Virgil huffed out a hysterical laugh, “It’s Halloween night. They’ll think it’s a realistic costume,” then in a lower voice as the others came close to the center, “God, Lo, what even happened? I walked through here and every inch of this maze for two hours,” his voice wobbled with choked back tears, “Where did you go?”

Logan blinked and then pointed a claw at a mess of fabric, “I met Scarecrow.”

Virgil looked at the dark lump and then back at Logan, “What are you talking about? There’s never been a scarecrow here. It’s just a corn maze.”

“Well, there isn’t one anymore.”

[fandom-trash-xl]

One-Shot: Light in a Wicked Heart (200 Followers Special)

I've decided to bring out another fanfiction, this time focusing on Frost. I made use of some Universe 6 Saga dialogue about Frost's past and decide to incorporate it into a larger story.

Time Placement: Age 777 (3 years prior to the Tournament of Destroyers)

OCs:

- Lord Shiver: Frost's father, 2nd form Icejin with blue-gray and light gray colorations

- Kossetsu: Young child of the Planet Mayonnai

- Kensa: Young adult of the Planet Mayonnai

- Bruselle: Young female Saiyan of the Sadalan Defense Force, a member of Cabba's squadron

- Carotine: Young male Saiyan of the Sadalan Defense Force, a member of Cabba's squadron

- Rhubar: Young male Saiyan of the Sadalan Defense Force, a member of Cabba's squadron

(AGE 777, GALACTIC DAY 295)

The small overseer ship floated gently in the thin stratosphere of the planet Mayonnai, a planet known for... well, no one was particularly sure. But, two space pirates knew that this planet was sure to bring results.

A young blue two-horned lizard, known by many as an Icejin, or Ice Demon, eagerly peered through the massive observation deck window at the dust-colored planet below. This was Frost, the single son of the once-famed crime lord Shiver. Obviously, Shiver's ways had rubbed off on him, as he spent his days travelling the galaxy with his father and pillaging planets.

"Quite the divine pearl, isn't it, boy?" Shiver spoke from behind him, casting a large shadow. "What did the reports say it was called again?"

"I believe it's called Mayonnai, father. Supposedly, asking prices are up to 40,000 Galactic Zen per acre." Frost replied.

"Rather large price for a planet that seems to have no culture to speak of."

"One shouldn't judge a book by its cover, or more precisely, a planet by its surface." The younger Icejin removed his glance from the window and turned to grab a solid black cape from a small metal rack. He pinned it to the shoulder plates of his dark blue armor. "I suppose you want me to go down there? Assess the situation from up close?"

Shiver laughed, teeth gritted in a smile. "Obviously, I can't. Too many people know my name. Go nuts, kid. Just don't do anything you might regret."

The surface of Mayonnai was as dust-colored as the view from space. It was littered with bustling marketplaces. It didn't seem like an ideal place to live, but the consumerism may have been the reason for high demand in land.

Frost had been indecisive on tactics on how to conquer such a busy place, so he had chosen to stay for awhile to plan his troops' approach. He had helped himself to some of the planet's local wares, particularly some baked confections.

And he could finally understand why people wanted to purchase stock in this planet. It was to die for!

Frost had found himself in the middle of the marketplace square and was preparing to report back to his father when he noticed... him.

He was a rather petite creature that seemed to be made entirely of shadows. He had teeny horns, a spiked tail, and torn-up wings. The only bright part of his body was a pair of glowing yellow eyes. He seemed rather malnourished, but was still at a small working post, shining a much larger gentlemen's boots. The creature seemed to have been keeled over for quite some time. He finished his polishing job with a heavy sigh, only for the man to leave ungrateful and flick him a small silver coin. He caught it eagerly as if his life depended on it.

"Another step forward," The creature looked at his reflection in the coin with the simultaneous feelings of worry and hope. "Soon, I'll have enough to be free of this place..." As he turned to add his silver coin to a bucket of change, a slim tall figure, who seemed to be of the same species as the young child, approached.

"Alright, Kossetsu. Let's see what you made this shift."

"I made enough." Kossetsu held his bucket of change close. "Now, go away,  Kensa!"

Kensa swiped the bucket from Kossetsu despite his refusal. "Don't be difficult!" He began to rifle through the coins. "Ah, you've made quite a lot for a polisher. Now, how shall we divide this up today? For your split, let's say..." He looked down at the young Mayonnai child. "What you've got in your claws should suffice. Rest goes to the boss." Kossetsu looked at the lone coin before he started to snarl and his beady eyes filled with tears.

"That's not fair! I worked my arse off for all that!" He jumped onto Kensa and tried to pull the bucket back. 

The latter struggled against him. "Listen, it's not my job to go against the boss's order-"

"Hey!"

Kensa and Kossetsu both turned to see Frost, who was none too pleased. "Let that kid alone, unless you intend to deal with me."

Kensa dropped the child and spread his wings. "Really? What could a common tourist do to one of the strongest of Planet Mayon-"

A red blast struck Kensa in the shoulder, causing him to tense up in major pain. "Sorry, I wasn't trying that time. Shall I try again, seriously this time?" Frost's tail swished, anticipating a challenge. The pained creature ran away in a panic, coins fluttering out of the bucket. 

Kossetsu stumbled to his feet and started to scrounge for the dropped money. "T-thank you, m-mister..."

"Frost. And it was no trouble." He helped him scrape the coins into a small pile.

"Oh. It's nice to meet you. My name's Kossetsu. That was just my caretaker, Kensa."

"Caretaker, hm? Then why does he try to hurt you?"

"The man in charge of us orphans is a heartless scumbag. Kensa doesn't want to hurt me, but the boss tells him the only important thing is money. If I could actually keep most of mine, I could probably buy my way out of here."

Frost frowned. He was a profit-seeking criminal as well, but... not to such a cruel extent. "Listen here a sec." He pulled a confection out of his back and handed it to Kossetsu. "I don't have much to offer on my person at the moment, but this should tide you over. At least until tomorrow." He muttered under his breath. "I can probably pull a few strings..."

"What?"

"Nothing. Just rest well this evening. Let's just say that your tomorrow looks prosperous."

(GALACTIC DAY 296) 

Frost stood in a shaded corner of the Mayonnai marketplace, trying to stay out of sight. His cape blew in the slow wind. His troops had been put into place and it was almost their cue to strike. Three things were on the Ice Demon's mind: combat, profit...

...and the young boy. 

Meanwhile, four Saiyan scouts of the Planet Sadala were scouring the marketplace. As a protectorate of the Saiyan homeworld, Mayonnai had small troops of watchful Saiyan eyes, scanning the perimeter, ready to defend.

The lone female Saiyan of the group, dressed in green, gold, and pink and wearing her spiked hair in a messy bun, sighed heavily. "Cabba, I don't see any threats in sight. Tell me again why we're still scouring?"

"I understand why you're getting antsy over this, Bruselle, but the Captain said there were reports of Lord Shiver's band of space pirates in the stratosphere." Cabba, a young Saiyan teen in blue, replied. He was somewhat anxious of the situation. If the villains were to strike, wouldn't they have done it already? 

As the elite continued along the line of vendors, a sudden and echoing blast came from a small section of houses. 

"They're here..." Cabba jolted at the sound, then turned to his two other teammates, one in orange and the other in burgundy. "Carotine, you take the east. Rhubar, you take west. Bruselle and I will take the square." The Saiyan pressed a button on his temple, activating a full blue visor. 

"Let's show these punks what for!"

The attack was right on schedule. Frost lept in from the shadows, appearing in front of the troops, right in sight of several Mayonnai children working, most likely the mistreated orphans of the plan. "Children! Inside! All of you!" He commanded. The beings did as told and herded into an empty building. "Don't worry, I'll protect you." He had to make sure they were all alright. He couldn't have his father's plan ruin his own plan to save Kossetsu. "Now, punks, prepare yourself to face the storm..."

Suddenly, a spiky-haired girl slipped into the group and knocked down some of the grunts with a savage low kick.

"Sh-t, no one told me the Sadalan Saiyan Squadrons would be here." The Ice Demon cursed under his breath. A second Saiyan leaped into battle, performing a barrage of ki blast spin kicks. 

"Tch, out of my way, Saiyans! I can handle this!" Frost tripped a soldier with his tail, then grabbed his neck with his legs, flipping him over in a somersault. He tumbled into a row of remaining troops, creating a domino effect. 

"He's good." Bruselle snarled. "But, we don't take orders from hopeless vigilantes. Right, Cabba?" Cabba was standing stunned in awe. "Cabba?!"

"I-I can't believe it- It's him!" Cabba's knees were shaking. "It's the planetary hero, Frost. From all the magazines!"

"I don't care who it is!" His partner barked. "We can't let this punk steal our thunder. Snap out of it, Cabba!"

Cabba nodded. "Yes. Of course." He rushed back into fight, swiftly bashing in a few villains' heads with a kick. He attempted to recreate Frost's grab, only to stumble and knock over only one. 

"Nice attempt, but I'll show you how a real fighter handles this." Frost propelled himself off of one of the grunts' heads and hooked his feet to loose bricks on the corner of a nearby building. A barrage of red Death Beams came from his outstretched finger. He laughed maniacally as the foes were struck. A beam barely missed Bruselle.

"The hell?! It's like the bastard is trying to kill me!"

"Never mind that, Bruselle! We're all clear in this sector!"

"Yeah, thanks to Mister Showoff here." Bruselle grumbled.

Cabba turned to look over at Frost, who was brushing the dust off his armor and cape. He was much more impressive than the articles had described him as. He was stunning, eye-catching... and pretty darn attractive.

"Bruselle, if you don't mind, I-I think I'm going to talk to him." Cabba stuttered.

"Sure thing, give him a piece of my mind."

The young Saiyan approached the Icejin with hesitancy. "Um, sir, would you happen to be Frost? The famed planetary protector?"

"Ah, I see I'm well known even amongst the Saiyans." Frost laughed a little and extended his hand. "It's a pleasure meeting a fan!"

"Uh, y-yes, a pleasure to meet you too. I-I'm Cabba." Cabba grabbed Frost's hand and felt his face glowing with heat. "I must say, compared to in the magazines, you're a lot more handsome in real life-" He panicked. "I-I mean, more heroic- Just forget I said anything!"

"No problem, good sir." Frost let go. "I must being going anyways. It's been a pleasure, Cabba!" He turned to enter the building containing the young Mayonnai children.

All of the young creatures flocked around the heroic Ice Demon. One in particular with ripped wings came to the front. Kossetsu. 

"Mister Frost, I knew you'd come back!"

"Yes, and I've come for an important reason. I'm here to set you all free."

The children cheered in excitement over being freed from the tyranny. "Now, let's get-"

"Hey! Punk!" 

Frost turned to see another Mayonnai being. He was rather short, but seemed to an adult. He was standing on a chair to gain some height. "What do you think you're doing with my workers?"

"It's called liberation, wise guy. It is my duty to free these innocents from oppression."

"Not if I have anything to say about it. These little workers have made me a fortune, and you can't take them from me!" The older man pulled a taser from his desk. "Leave this planet now or I'll be forced to use this."

"I see you're well armed. But, I am too." A small needle extended from Frost's wrist.

"Heh, you intend to defeat me with a pin? Think again, bud."

"I could tell you the same thing."

The Ice Demon lunged at the boss, who promptly activated the electric taser. Before the sparks could reach him, Frost managed to shoot the thorn from his wrist. It implanted itself in the boss's neck. The weapon flickered off and the villain began to feel faint.

"W-what did you d-do to me? W-why are y-you s-sideways?" Shortly after, the boss fell to the ground. He could have been unconscious, he could have been dead. Frost didn't care which. 

"Now, where were we?" Frost turned to the children. "Oh, that's right. Freedom." All of them cheered. "Now before I depart, I'll give you the best advice I can offer. Whatever happens, never give up. Always get back on your feet. Farewell children of Mayonnai." 

"Thank you for all you help Mister Frost." Kossetsu spoke to the Ice Demon as he prepared to depart through the back door. "I'll never forget you."

Frost paused. Something inside him was telling him he couldn't leave Kossetsu here. "Oh, I just remembered." He turned back. "I have to make an adoption first." He lowered to face the torn-winged creature. "Kossetsu, how would you like to come with me?"

The creature eagerly spread out his wings, small tears forming in his neon yellow eyes. "Yes. Yes, I will."

"Frost, what did you bring back?" Shiver asked with confusion. "Some sort of animal?"

"No, father. It's a person."

"You took a hostage? Impressive, son!"

"No!" He set down Kossetsu. "He's not a hostage, and his name is Kossetsu."

"Oh Champa almighty, you gave it a name?!" Shiver held his head. "You're not supposed to get attached to these creatures. They don't live as long as us. It's going to die one day and you'll regret ever naming it in the first place."

"I don't care that I'll outlive him. I'm keeping him. Now, if you don't mind, Kossetsu needs some food. He's been starving for some time now."

"Son, we do not waste our food on the peasants."

"Well, maybe you don't, but I'm not as heartless as you, father." Frost led Kossetsu into another room. "Come on, kid. Let's go somewhere with less scumbags."

(GALACTIC DAY 303)

It had been a week since Frost had brought in Kossetsu. The Ice Demon had kept a watchful eye on the child and had him accompany him on various conquests.

Today was another one of those conquests and Frost was in search of his small companion. He was a bit panicked. He hoped that he wasn't in danger. He felt responsible for his well-being.

"Father, Kossetsu isn't anywhere in the ship."

"That is correct, son." Shiver replied.

"What do you mean by that?" Frost's eyes narrowed.

"I let that wretched thing free this morning."

"You WHAT?!"

"Set it free. It's gone. You have to let things go eventually. I sent it to the ice moon of Kadaver, into the wild where it belongs."

"He can't survive there!" Frost rushed to grab his cloak. "I'm going after him."

"You can't, Frost." Shiver turned to his son. "You'll freeze to death down there!"

"Better me than him." The younger Icejin put the hood up on his cloak and determinedly open the ship's exit hatch.

The ice moon of Kadaver was a barren wasteland of snow. Thankfully, Kossetsu's dark figure would easily stand out in the blizzard. 

On the down side, Frost realized his father was right. He'd have to find him quickly, or he'd probably be an ice block.

Out of the snow came a small shadowy figure, its wings spread. Kossetsu, no doubt.

"Kossetsu, I'm here! Don't panic!" Frost rushed to the child through the tundra. He was in high pursuit, until...

A much larger creature, almost wolf-like swooped in, grabbing the Mayonnai child in its maw. "No!" 

Kossetsu tried to wriggle out of the wolf being's jaws to no avail. "Help me!"

"Let him go, you beast!"

The creature started to form a more humanoid bipedal shape. "Hmph, this is my prey. What makes you think you can take it from me, tiny?"

Frost snarled. "Because no one hurts Kossetsu and gets away with it!"  He rushed into the wolf beast, feeling his entire body engulfed with an unusual energy. He seemed to change further the closer he got. When he finally made contact, he was entirely different. His armor had broken off, he was much slimmer, and he no longer had horns. It must have been a strong new form, as he had managed to send the creature flying and free Kossetsu from its jaws.

The wolf was crippled from the impact and was coughing blood. Despite its already major injuries, Frost still felt an instinct to continue fighting it. He kicked the beast skyward and swiftly punched it straight through the gut, impaling it. Blood was spread on his arm. So much damage through his fury  had been done, though he felt  as if he hadn't put much effort into his attacks. Was this the might of his new form? It was... 

...terrifying.

He removed his fist from the deceased beast and tried to clean the wolf blood from his body with his tattered cloak.

Kossetsu rushed up to the newly transformed Ice Demon. "M-Mister Frost, are you alright?" His voice was growing weak, probably from the cold. "I-I wanna go home. I'm c-cold..."

"Kossetsu, I was so worried!" He grabbed his tiny friend in a frenzied hug. "I thought I'd lose you! Please tell me you're okay, Kosse-" The creature was silent. He looked at the child. He was paralyzed, his breathing had stopped.

"Kossetsu..." 

His neck had been snapped. 

And it was because of Frost's own uncontrollable strength.

"No...

No...

No....!"

(GALACTIC DAY 304)

Frost woke up within his father's ship, facing the ceiling.  His breathing was being paced by a oxygen mask. Had he passed out?

"Sir, he's awake."

Shiver entered his sight. "Son, are you alright? You were out cold. Quite literally might I add."

Frost pulled the oxygen mask off of his face and began to position himself upright. "I... had the strangest dream..."

"Hm. In said dream, were you in a different form, perhaps?"

The younger Icejin paused. "How did you know the very specific part of my dream?"

"Because it wasn't a dream, son." Shiver passed him a hand mirror. Frost's eyes widened. It was the form... The form of uncontrollable strength. There were even still a few droplets of wolf blood on his face. The mirror snapped in his hand almost immediately. "You unlocked your final form, Frost. I'm proud of you."

However, instead of pride or joy, Frost felt two different emotions. Fury and pain. Tears came from his eyes as he sat in silence. 

"Why aren't you happy about this, kid? Reaching the final form is a pivotal point in every young Icejin's life."

"Because...." Frost snarled. "I don't want to be in this form anymore. Tell me how to transform back."

"Why would you want to go back, son? If it's the whole 'breaking things in your hands' thing, that'll stop soon once your power settles."

"It's not that! This uncontrollable might... it kills. This form is the reason why Kossetsu is dead! Tell me how to transform back, now!"

"Well, that's no big deal. The thing was going to die anyway-"

Shiver was interrupted by his son's hand around his throat.

"F-Frost! What the hell are you doing?!" He managed to croak.

"Now, do you see why I want to go back?! All this form does is hurt people!"

"Frost, you have to give your newfound power a chance!"

"Tell me how to transform back, now!" Frost turned to put his other hand around Shiver's neck until the older Icejin finally kneed him in the stomach, sending him backward. 

"Fine, kid. I'll tell you, once you calm down."

Frost simply stood up and walked off. "Tch." He scoffed, thinking back to the time when there was light in his wicked heart.