#but. where do the creatures actually come from. is a wings of thunder bat even a real species

[thegreatyin]

so. like.

what is happles doing in theological husbandry.

[ajwrites52]

Batober Day 4-FEAR

(Set on a different Earth, please head to Ao3 to read the origin and background of this Batman. If interest is large enough, I might post some chapters over here on Tumblr.)

The chill October air sends shivers down the boy's spine. Most children the age of ten would be in bed, being tucked in by their parents. But not Jimmy Prescott, an absent father and a mother who worked nights, and the ten-year-old had nothing at home but an empty fridge. Like many boys in Gotham, he and the others found entertainment; this was probably the worst one ever devised. With only a flashlight in hand and the clothes on his back, Jimmy wandered into the cold and empty cemetery. He looks back at the gates, his seniors sitting on their bikes waving to him and pushing him to keep going. Biting his lip, he pressed on before stopping at the rusted fence and overgrown weeds that protected a closed-off part of the cemetery. 

"H-He's not real. He's just a story, that's it."

His trembling hand pried the gate open, the loud creaking of the hinges scaring a murder of crows to fly away, startling the young lad. He could hear his classmates laughing at him from a distance. He clenched his fist and shined his flashlight forward before entering the dark walkway towards the dilapidated and crumbling tombstone surrounded by rotten weeds. Jimmy shines the flashlight on the fallen golden plaque and reads it beneath his breath.

"Here lies Dr. Jonathan W. Cane. March 1635-1692. May his spirit forever lie in rest and never return."

He rummaged in his coat pocket and took a deep breath, his body quaking as he unfolded the slip of paper and set his phone to record. He stared at the broken grave and swallowed his fears before beginning to speak.

"Oh, dear Doctor Crane. Long may he reign. When the red roses bloom and the moon hangs in the air, shall your eyes open? When the crows cry out, and the land turns cold, shall you speak your first words?"

BRAKAKOOM!

He shakes as he stares up at the sudden arrival of storm clouds above him. He gulps before continuing with a shaky breath.

"When Gotham cries, and her children grow old and die. S-Shall your fingers grasp your scythe."

The second crash of thunder erupts in the sky, causing Jimmy to jump as cold raindrops begin to hit his head. He would turn back, but if he didn't bring back proof, he would be the victim of endless teasing and bullying by his compatriots. So, he continued.

"Will you stand up when the streets flood with lights and people? Will you take your first steps when your demonic servant takes flight in the night sky?"

The wind begins to whip around him, causing the drops of rain to feel like razor blades against the child's skin. He's now utterly terrified and wants to leave as soon as possible. 

'Screw this!' he thought. He grabbed his phone and crumbled up the paper before running for the exit. But the wind got stronger the farther he got from Crane's grave. He felt as if he was fighting nature itself as he got closer to the fence; the thunder roared and screamed in his ears while the lightning blinded him temporarily. Jimmy didn't know why, but every part of his body shouted to him three simple words.

"Don't. Turn. Around."

The hairs on his neck stood up as he ran faster than ever before. He felt something, some dark and horrifying thing behind him. He could hear it too; it had a voice like a cold blade scraping against his eardrums. He was almost there. But he then felt the wind whisper in his ears; it was that voice once again carried by the wind. He feels long, and skinny fingers wrap themselves around his neck while another grabs his left arm. A cold and boney presence places itself on his shoulder as he hears it whispers in his ear. 

"Don't turn around. Finish it."

Jimmy's eyes welled up with tears, his short life flashes before his eyes as he can feel his pants warming up upon him, soiling himself in fear. He wants to scream, to scream for help from his mother, who he wants to arrive and save him from this THING! 

"Finish it."

"I-"

"Finish it."

"Help."

"Finish it!"

"HELP! ANYONE!!"

"FINISH IT!!!"

He sobs and cries out, hoping that he'd be close enough for at least his friends to hear his pleas for help. But it was to no avail. No one was coming for him. Not his so-called friends. Not even his mother, who had no idea where he even was. He then felt himself being slowly dragged back towards the grave. The boy's body turns ice-cold as he nears the tombstone once again. He feels the claws of this creature pierce his neck and slither themselves into his esophagus. As he returns to the grave, he once again hears that same spine-tingling voice in his ear once more commanding him.

"Finish it."

So he did.

"M-Mr. Crane. Mr. Crane. When you stand and talk again, who will be your Scarecrow of fear before you disappear?"

Jimmy felt his vocal cords severed; he slowly held his throat. His hands feel something warm and wet. His torso follows the same sensation before his eyes look forward, only to find the graveyard gone and replaced by a dense, thick fog. Jimmy's tears hit the ground as something begins to form in the distance. A silhouette starts to form of a tall male figure walking towards him. His eyes widen as he recognizes the man. A feeling of elation and joy overwhelms him at the appearance of the tall, dark-haired gentleman dressed in a black cloak with a strange cowl with white eyes. The man removes the cowl and smiles, revealing a handsome gentleman's face with a kind smile.

"Hey, kiddo."

"D-daddy?"

Tears of joy now fall from Jimmy's cheeks as he holds out his arms for his father. The man smiles and embraces his son before whispering into the child's ear. 

"Why you, of course. You shall become my silent and strong Scarecrow while I walk the earth. For you shall show them all their true fears."

Jimmy freezes up, his father pulling away from the hug and looking at him with angry and hateful eyes. His father screams and shakes the young man, blood dripping from every orifice as he berates the young boy.

"I hate you! I HATE YOU! YOU USELESS BRAT! I LOST EVERYTHING BECAUSE OF YOU!!!"

Jimmy tries to defend himself, to understand as he feels himself sinking. He cries out to no avail. His father continues to bleed out before falling to his knees and screaming as Jimmy can do nothing but watch before falling into the grave of Dr. Crane. 

"Thank you, Scarecrow."

 His screams bounce against the seemingly bottomless pit before he can hit the metaphorical bottom. A large hand grasps onto Jimmy's wrists, holding him in mid-air, "Don't struggle." 

Jimmy could barely piece together descriptions of his savior, he couldn't tell where the shadows began, and the figure ended. All he could note was his piercing white eyes and the yellow light ruminating from his chest. His voice was gruff, almost like he was a monster, and his palm covered his whole wrist. 

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" 

The tunnel trembled and began to fall apart; Jimmy looked down at his feet and screamed at the horrors he saw below. The shadows of the abyss below glowed bright orange; from shadows emerged a colossal skull consumed in flames. Its fanged maw opened up, unleashing a giant tower of fire upwards. The apparition roared with an abhorrent and ear-shattering scream. 

"HE IS MINE!!!!"

"Hang on!" The dark figure unlatched itself from the walls, its wings unfurling as they took off upwards towards the closing gap. The heat hits their backs; they escape by a hair's breadth, crashing onto the muddy ground. "Ow." 

Jimmy's eyes open slowly as the rain hits his face; now looming over him was the exact dark figure that saved him earlier. Now freed from the abyssal darkness, Jimmy could sparse more precise details of his hero. The glowing circle on his chest held an Emblem in the shape of a bat; he discarded the burning black cloak that once decorated his back. A metal cross with a gold center and silver tip; his body was covered in grey armor. His waist and face were covered by a black cowl sporting elongated ears. His white eyes didn't seem human; they were cold and detached. 

"Get out of here. This place isn't safe." His voice was just as cold and harsh as in the tunnel. He glares at the pit, walking towards the place they just escaped from; he pulls the cross from his back and stiffens. That's when the ground beneath them shook with deadly fury, the earth cracked, steam and hellfire burst forth from the ground sending both flying away as he emerged from the grave. 

"THAT BOY IS MINEEEE!!!!!"

His roar ruptured the sky and summoned a ferocious storm. The sickening orange glow illuminated the area as Batman glared at the light. 

"HE SPOKE THE ENCHANTMENT! HE BROUGHT FORTH MY POWER! HIS FEARS FEED ME!!!" 

Jimmy could no longer scream, the sensation of his lunch evacuating his body prevented as he looked upon Crane's indescribable horrific visage. His fingers, long like needles jutting out his bony wrists, his torso was nothing more than a ribcage with little to no skin attached to it and shackles attached to his arms and neck. But what would never leave the child's mind were his eyes. 

A skull covered by a burlap sack, sharp fangs in place of normal human incisors, and black voids with burning crimson embers in the area of eyes. Crane emerged from the grave, towering over them both like a giant while screaming in anguish and rage. His wide mouth tearing parts of the bag, revealing rotten skin underneath and long grey hairs. 

"YOU CANNOT TAKE HIM FROM ME!!! THE CONTRACT IS SEALED, AND HIS FEARS SHALL BE MINE!!" 

Batman spat on the ground and clenched the cross in his gloved right hand; in his other, he pulled out four Bat-Shaped daggers to hold in between his fingers.

"Bold of you to think that I actually care. You're not taking that child or anyone, Crane." 

His screams were unholy. He slammed his bony palm into the ground sending shockwaves towards man and child. With a click, the silver tip of his cross fired outwards like a bullet, a chain acting as a cable. It wrapped around the boy's leg and pulled him towards the cowled man as they crashed onto a nearby clearing. Jimmy's breath became erratic, and his tears ran down his already wet cheeks. His eyes glazed over as he could only mutter words in a language lost to modern ears. Batman groaned in pain as he carried Jimmy behind a nearby gravestone, hiding them from Crane's wrath.

"Damn it. C'mon kid. Wake up and snap out of it!" He shook the boy by the shoulders, quickly rummaging through one of the pouches on his belt for aid. He placed a paper talisman against the boy's forehead and pressed his thumb, causing the slip to glow and burn with a bright yellow light. Instantly, color returns to Jimmy's skin as he quickly exhales another round of bile. "Good. You're out of the trance. Jimmy, right?"

"W-What's going on?" asked Jimmy, fighting the words out in between sobs. The boy is hoisted up onto his feet, with Batman placing a charm in the boy's hands. 

"No time for questions. Listen to me, run to the gate and place the charm on the outside. Then say these in this order, never break it or stop. And whatever you do, don't look back!"

"B-But," Batman pulled him close, whispering the chant into his young ears before pushing away. With little to no hesitation, he leaped over the grave, chain whip in hand. 

"No buts. NOW GO!" Jimmy trembled as he cowered behind the headstone. The sounds of battle raging on behind him, Crane's screaming and roaring burrowing into his eardrums. Clutching the charm to his chest, he bolted forward, screaming with his full breath. 

"JIMMY! JIMMMMMYYYYYYY!!!!!! Don't YOU RUN FROM ME!!!"

Jimmy screamed louder to ignore the ghouls' cries. He felt the ground distort and change around him; each drop of rain felt like another weight being added onto him. His legs wobbled, and his breathing became raggedy.

"KEEP GOING!" Screamed Batman from the battlefield. Jimmy pushed forward, ignoring the pain in his body as he neared the gate. 

"Jimmy?" 

His body froze; still, his blood went cold as he trembled in place. A feminine voice wormed its way into his ears. It was kind, concerned, and all-around comforting. "Jimmy? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be home!"

"M-Mom. I-" his words clung to his throat; every synapse in his brain screamed at him to keep running, but his legs refused to move. 

"I work day and night! Slave over a hot stove to feed you! And here you are, doing god knows what! HERE! WHAT ABOUT YOUR BROTHER! GOD! WHY MUST YOU CONSTANTLY DISAPPOINT ME!!!" 

Her once kind voice fell apart at the arrival of a sinister and distorted cracked tone. Like nails on a chalkboard, she continued her ravings, getting ever closer to the boy. "I SHOULD'VE LEFT YOU ON THE STREET WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE! YOU' IRRITATING CANCER ON MY LIFE!!!"

Her rants continued, even more, causing Jimmy to fall to his knees in terror. He was done. This was all too much for one boy to go through. He-he should've just surrendered himself to Crane and saved himself and others the pain, but before he could turn around to accept his fate. One of Batman's daggers flew past him, nipping his cheek and snapping him out of the trance. In the reflection of the blade, he saw Batman lunging at the giant Scarecrow avoiding every attack. 

"KEEP GOING!" he yelled from the battlefield. Jimmy clenched his teeth, and despite every molecule in his body yelling at him. He ran forward, ignoring Crane's grip on his soul as he grabbed hold of the rusty gate and slammed the paper charm against it. With a deep breath, he screamed out the command given to him by Batman. 

"Through the murky waters and misty woods, I cast this spirit out of this infernal boon. I renounce your evil power and hold. I remove your binding from my soul! Jonathan Crane, I demand your soul leaves this place! I remove your brand and fear you NO MORE!!!!"

BRAKAKAKOOOM!!!!!!

A bright white light blinded Jimmy, its light burned his shirt, and he felt what felt like lightning strike every cell in his body. As he flew back from the explosion, the world fell apart around him into a bright orange void. He turned around, and all he saw was the burlap sack containing Crane's face burned away, and his natural face was revealed to his former victim. 

His hollow eyes released a waterfall of blood and tar, and his mouth released curses in a language, not even he could parse. The demon's face opened its maw and flew towards Jimmy, cackling as it attempted one last time to claim the boy's soul. 

"NOT TODAY!!" 

Before he could swallow the boy whole, Batman descended with his cross in hand, unleashing the bladed tip with the chain. He slammed his weapon in between Crane's eyes, cracking the skull apart and unleashing a bright and unholy white light. Jimmy screamed, only to be scooped up in Batman's arms as the two were engulfed in the explosion.

"Yo, Jimmy. You okay?"

Jimmy opened his eyes and screamed as he fell to the dirty floor. He scanned the area, finding himself surrounded by his former friend as they stood before the gate. The Batman was nowhere in sight and not a sign of Crane. The scratch on his cheek was no longer there nor the charm he'd used to defeat the demon. 

"I-I gotta go home." With little hesitation, Jimmy rode off home. A new sense of vigor in his veins as he left the cemetery. The remaining boy's began to ponder and eventually mock Jimmy's quickness. Still, they too fled in droves as they finally took notice of the large black and grey figure that loomed over them draped in a long black cape. His white eyes sent fear deep into their souls as they evacuated the area in haste. 

"Good. And stay out." He said. Batman Batman turned to the site of the paranormal he stood in moments earlier. He placed a small blue gem within the lock of the gate; within seconds, the gate crackled and resonated with an electric blue aura. It hummed before going silent, forever. Batman smirked and turned away, vanishing into the night to his next battle against the monsters in the night. 

-THE END-

[obeymeluv]

Ohhh how about the boys reacting to a lower demon hitting on reader? Like aggressively hitting on them that it’s already quite uncomfortable? Or it could be the shy, almost sweet type?

Hey there! Holy wow, how long has this been here? I usually check Tumblr from my phone and I guess message notifications don’t come through? So sorry T_T

Either way, Nonnie, this isn’t good :o

Divider from Glitter Geeks

♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥.·:*:·.♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥ ♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥.·:*:·.♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥  ♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥.·:*:·.♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥

“It cannot be helped, for I am born of sin and they inspire it in me.”

♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥.·:*:·.♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥ ♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥.·:*:·.♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥ ♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥.·:*:·.♥.·:*¨¨*:·.♥

Lucifer

This is the BIGGEST, ULTIMATE NO

Like, all of Mammon’s past transgressions don’t POSSIBLY add up to this insult

At first Lucifer pays no mind because you seem to be integrating into the Devildom and furthering Diavolo’s grand plan. Good!

Then it starts to gnaw at him and he really pays attention. Call it the keen eye of an ex-angel, to watch over humans

Half of him is earnestly trying to plan things to say on the way over, not hearing how his own footsteps echo thunderously with impending doom, but half of him can’t even concentrate due to the overwhelming sense of wrong.

You seem very uncomfortable, this lesser demon is more incompetent than he thought possible, and there’s something hot and nauseating burning in him. It almost hurts to clear his throat, honestly

It feels like the part he’d forgotten about...almost all that Satan was. He honestly thought he didn’t have any wrath left in him, for pride seemed far nastier a thing to be stuck with

He lets those big black wings, once the pride of the Celestial Realm, unfurl in a great and terrifying display. He used to shine in the Celestial Realm when he revealed his true form, but in the Devildom it translates as pure heat

He fans his wings to cool the air around you but the lesser demon now knows his looming shadow and his terrifying presence

If the demon is bold enough to stick around, Lucifer introduces you as the resident human transfer, discourages them from making you late, and suggests any further interaction happen in the presence of one of your seven guardians (“Of which I am one.”)

Although he mentioned seven guardians, it’s clear that he’s the key guardian. The one who will oversee all, and that’s enough to send the demon skittering away.

It takes a few minutes for the air to cool and his wings to fold back in and Lucifer uses that time to glare a burning hole into the lesser creature.

Finally he looks at you and asks you how you’re feeling. Nothing bad happened? Do you need to file paperwork?

Would probably consort with Diavolo to cast a minor enchantment so you could protect yourself if one of the brothers weren’t around

Mammon

You think another demon’s going to get close enough to talk to you? While in the presence of your NUMBER ONE MAN?! Ha!

Mammon may complain about having to go to classes and tries to convince you to ditch more often than not, but he really does look out for you

And boy is Greed’s Avatar so he’s not going to skimp on the company

That also means he’s not going to share your company when he doesn’t feel like it

Mammon may not be openly flirtatious like Asmo, but he knows all about swindling people for their heart (for it is just as valuable as money) and he knows when this demon comes slithering up that he’s BAD NEWS

He’s clever with money-making schemes, has successfully stolen from almost all of his brothers to pawn things, and has brokered deals with witches in such a way that he’s barely affected. Boy’s going to know how to dodge a creep

And for a while, it works. He teaches you back passages and all sorts of little things

But, inevitably, you have to face it alone. He’s not going to always be there.

And he kicks himself when he’s not. Seems he’s only minutes late but ANYBODY who knows you--like your number one man!--knows you’re uncomfortable and THE GREAT MAMMON has to do something!

What does he do? The biggest, loudest, flashiest thing possible. THE BIGGEST SIGN YOU COULD GIVE ANYBODY

If the demon isn’t discouraged from Mammon yell-talking at you halfway down the corridor, Mammon gets to see the delicious way he deflates after he throws an arm around your neck and starts apologizing to ‘his human’ about being late

If he’s in a bad mood that day, he’ll probably toss the demon a single Grimm and tell him to get lost or go buy himself something nice.

The height difference is probably pretty significant so it’s easier for him to just scoop you under his arm and carry you down the hall. Or let his tail wrap around you and walk you down the hall.

Leviathan

I’d be interested to see Levi in this position, honestly. Part of me thinks he’d be too shy to do anything, instead sulking in his room, but part of me thinks once he sees you as a friend (or something more) he’s going to go to bat for you

If it’s that second one, he’d be slyly demeaning. Being the third-born, he’s probably got an intelligent sarcastic streak like Lucifer and a subtle underhandedness like Mammon.

As the Avatar of Envy, his main game is to make the lesser demon feel insignificant by pointing out how little they know you. They’re not your real friend like him so obviously they’re nothing.

He’s much better, anyways. They’re an NPC, he’s Player 1.

I’m also very, very curious about his position in the Devildom Navy. Is that some kind of a switch-flip moment where he can command a room no questions asked, or is it some kind of wickedly good strategy innateness?

Being a background person (and having Asmo as a brother), he probably overhears a lot of gossip. He’d probably drop some real gossip, something embarrassing. Probably say you were needed by Lucifer, as that’s more to-the-point and believable

The aim of the game is to send the demon away, to create distance. Mission accomplished.

Satan

He won’t intervene until he gets the idea that you’re uncomfortable. It’s a whole process with this one.

On the one hand, he wants you to be able to handle yourself. If you are not enough to send the creature away, then he’ll intervene. Partly because he’s technically responsible for you, partly because he cannot stand idly by and entertain this idiocy.

Satan has many tricks but his favorite one is to freeze the demon out by ignoring him.

Totally dominates/inserts himself into the conversation. Makes the demon feel like he isn’t there.

If that doesn’t work and your scrambling to corroborate him or just back out of the conversation, Satan speaks for you. (”We’re studying later.”, etc.). If the demon tries for another day, Satan just coolly adds ‘and tomorrow’ or ‘for the rest of the week’ until the point is made.

The longer this issue continues--despite his help--the more the Avatar of Wrath begins to reveal himself. That aura alone is usually enough to send anything running.

Kinda feels like he made an ass of himself no matter what, and apologizes after you two are alone. Is very cute and embarrassed.

Gives you a biting book. It’s an enchanted tome you can train not to bite certain people. You two are the only ones that can hold it. He looks forward to seeing how many people it bites before the week is over (a little too happy). 

Asmodeus

Oh the many ways this could be handled! Asmo has so many ideas!

At first his little heart skips a beat because how cute is this?! A cliche romance unfolding in the halls of RAD between a human and a demon? Then his little ‘radar’ begins to ping and he realizes not all is well or cute

He was kind of glad, honestly. You could do MUCH better (like him!)

It could be as easy as Asmo sliding in and charming the lesser demon to leave you alone, walking away in a stupor, or more complicated and sinister

Asmo’s never done anything truly, intentionally sinister but rumor mills can be pretty devastating. The lesser demon may find himself at the center of some unsavory rumors that cause him to slink around the general populous

The narcissistic fifth-born probably has something of a following. He may appoint some of his followers as body guards or just extra eyes to keep you safe

Or he could do a total 180 and make this lesser demon seem totally dreamy to others so they get chased and leave you alone. Yes, he quite likes that one!

Then there’s the traditional route, the most obvious (which Asmo prefers because, honestly, you two would be the CUTEST couple) where he’s your boyfriend and you guys didn’t want to tell anyone but OOPS! SECRET’S OUT! Great, now go away! Wait, take a picture for his Devilgram first! Okay, now go. 

Beelzebub

Probably takes Beel a bit to notice your discomfort. If he’s not distracted with food, it’s because he didn’t want to act in bad faith. What if you actually liked talking to that demon? What if you were just awkward like Levi? It’s a delicate matter.

Beel is no fool, though. He’s very friendly. If he introduces himself and the lesser demon doesn’t quit his behavior, Beel will then turn serious.

Tries to emphasize to the demon that you’ve said no

May show muscle or offer up a challenge. Sometimes people are hard-headed like that and need action.

“You want to date them? Beat me in an arm-wrestling competition.” (they won’t)

Beelzebub can be down-right crafty. “You want to date them? Beat me in an eating competition.” (he’s the undisputed champion).

I think he’d use his size in a good way. If this demon keeps cornering you/pestering you, Beel’s going to make a habit of walking between you or just picking you up until the demon gets the hint that if Beel’s around, he’s not talking to you

Belphegor

The smallest part of him is too tired to deal with this but he’s powered by the sheer amount of HELL NO and decides he has to fix it.

Fix it once and it stops

Belphie, like Satan and Lucifer, has  a low tolerance for stupid things. This demon is one of them.

Very cut-throat and point blank. “They’re not interested. Go away.”

Lord Diavolo and Lucifer expressly mentioned they couldn’t use their powers on YOU, not other demons. Belphie can probably make people really sleepy. He’d make this demon so deliriously tired that he couldn’t flirt with you

Definitely the type to make the demon pass out in the hall and leave him there. Head injury? No clue, he had to go to class. It’s okay, the other RAD students probably won’t step on them.

So mad about the demon. “Honestly!” as he fluffs his pillow angrily after you two have settled in your next class. It’s the angriest nap he’s ever taken.

I don’t think he takes his pillow to school but you can bet he’d but a brick or something in it and whack them. Maybe try to suffocate them. Probably wouldn’t risk his precious pillow like that.

I bet he’d fake nap if the demon tries to flirt with you in class. LOUD, OBNOXIOUS, GRATING fake snoring.  

Hope you liked it :)

[real-jaune-isms]

RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 8 Review/Remix

RWBY finally comes back from a 2 month break, and what does it do? It scares us all half to death and then obliterates the other half with insane new story concepts and body horror imagery. Gods I missed this show~...

We return to this chaotic mess with the scene you might be expecting the least, Qrow and Robyn in their prison cells. Qrow is awoken by the sound of ships and explosions outside, and find that his three block mates are similarly left sleepless. Jacques is particularly nervous, probably because he assumed Whitley would be here to bail him out by now. Qrow picks up on an incoming sound that sounds... different, and indeed a wall is blown down in a fiery explosions that starts sending down rubble. One section of the Hard Light cell walls have been taken down, but before anyone has time to act Robyn notices a crow vehemently cawing at her before some rubble comes down above her. And... that’s the last we see of Robyn or Qrow this episode. He transformed to be a smaller target for debris and she might not have made it out quickly enough even with his disguised possible warnings.

Back to more pressing matters, we take the perspective of... the Dragonborn in the opening of Skyrim?? Wait, no, it’s just Nora regaining consciousness to see Klein has given her an IV and is saying she’ll be on the mend real quick. So that’s some good news after a few months of worry, and hey! The fan theory was wrong, she didn’t go blind from the lightning! Before we can even dwell on her wellbeing for too long, Blake opens the door for Ruby Weiss and Whitley to carry in Penny’s unconscious body. As Blake points out, Penny is leaking a green fluid most likely comparable to blood. They set her down on a cot near Nora, and Whitley is pissed about getting his clothes stained again in the span of 48 hours. But I think robot fuel/blood is at least easier to wash out than red wine. Ruby of course wants to know if Klein can help Penny as well as he has Nora, but his wheelhouse of expertise does not cover advanced robotics. The saving grace is that Pietro made her so close to human so Klein has some idea what can actually be fixed, starting with sewing up the gash in her abdomen. A thunderous rumble is heard in the distance, and suddenly the lights go out. Whitely complains about this too, but it is rather valid. Nothing quite seems to be going right, even Atlas’ power grid is against them... Ruby gets a call from May, and we learn they parted ways so May could go regroup with the Happy Huntresses and save her city. They compare notes and it’s made clear a bombing run took out part of the city’s power, though less clear is who was doing that bombing, Atlas or the Grimm? Ruby apologizes for their current inaction while they tend to Penny, but May reassures her that this may end up being more productive than trying to find something worth doing outside the city. Great googly moogly, it’s all gone to shit, and there’s very little difference a few more huntresses can make to the Mantle efforts. Ruby is left in overwhelmed despair, there’s so many problems and she doesn’t know how to solve all of them. Klein butts in with a sneeze to say she should take it one problem at a time, focus on the most immediate and possible to achieve and work outwards. For one thing, it’d help a lot of they had lights and power. 

Willow surprises everyone by showing up in the doorway to let them know about a backup generator on the edge of the estate property. She’s still the lady of this house, and she has enough self respect to not lie around getting drunk in the dark. Whitley greets her with a mix of disinterest and distain, and she notices Klein has returned to the manor and offers an off guard greeting. Weiss backs up her mom’s info drop with the fact that SDC executive members indeed have access to backup power sources if the city ever suffered a power outage like this. She doesn’t like that they have that kind of privilege while other folks suffer, but it’s for the greater good this time. This gets Whitley thinking, and my boy has a full Jimmy Neutron BRAIN BLAST! Since Jacques made him heir to the company, and the man himself is possibly dead under rubble, Whitely has full access to the Schnee Dust Company and all its resources. Since Ironwood put down the Dust embargo in Volume 4, their fleet of cargo ships are sitting empty and ready for use in a hangar. As we saw earlier this very chapter, there are automated drones that answer to the SDC rather than the Atlas military. They can use those ships and drone soldiers to give all the people stuck in Mantle a way out to fly away safely. Fantastic work, young man! You make your family proud... well, the family members who don’t commit war crimes for profit. But to do that they need the power back on so he can use Jacques’ computer, so that’s what Ruby and Blake set out to do. Getting inside the small building outside of the mansion is easy enough, and its just the flip of a switch to get the generator booting back up. In the meantime, the two share a genuinely sweet conversation. Blake reassures Ruby that the fact she’s trying to make things happen is all the world could ask of her, and an optimistic attitude like that is hard to stick with for long in this harsh world. Life in the White Fang and with Adam robbed Blake of her own similar mindset, but she truly admires and looks up to Ruby for how great a woman she is. Sadly, like most things, this moment is ruined by a Grimm. While all the lights are coming back on and Whitley gets to work, a bolt of lightning reveals that the Hound is just outside the window behind Ruby... Willow and Klein are casually sitting around waiting I guess, when they hear the loud crash of glass breaking and Willow reflexively reaches for her bottle of vodka. Weiss checks in on her teammates over comms and they tell her they need some help so she makes sure Whitley will have the business handled before she rushes out to save her friends. Ruby is getting tossed through a fresh hole in the wall, and Blake’s attempt to attack it while she regains her footing is just batted away. Blake assures Ruby that it’s just a Grimm, they can handle it as long as she can stay focused. Blake goes on the offensive again while Ruby tries to get her Silver Eyes going, but the Hound swats the Faunus girl away and tackles Ruby before sprouting its wings again with her in its clutches Blake uses the ribbon on her weapon to do what Ren had earlier in the Volume, though she anchors the other end in the ground as a tether rather than ride along as it leaves.

Weiss finally arrives at the scene of this chaos and reports the Grimm sighting back to Klein. Hearing the news of this beastly intruder leaves Willow so shaken she drops the bottle and glass she was pouring herself. Klein tries to reassure and calm her, but she’s too overwhelmed and runs out of the room... just as Penny reactivates with red eyes. Full on hacked now, and  Klein gets shoved to the floor for all his concerns about her being on her feet again. But she barely takes two steps before the real Penny resurfaces and tries to fight back for control of her own body. The struggle is deep enough to summon a whirling wind around her much like Fria had last Volume, but this one is green because Penny. Back outside, Weiss is about to summon something when a couple Centinels burrow up behind her and tear through it. From the looks of it, I think it was going to be the Nevermore from all the way back in Volume 1, so that’s a pretty cool callback to how important that fight was, and the imagery of glowing wings behind her was beautiful while it lasted. The Hound breaks free of Blake’s tether and is about to soar away, much to her dismay, when it sees a bright green glow coming from in the manor, clearly Penny going through her identity crisis. Ruby puts two and two together and realizes why the Hound has been saying “Take the Girl.” The girl is Penny, whose blood is still on Ruby’s clothes so it got a little confused while tracking. She warns her teammates, but the Hound chooses that time to drop her like a sack of potatoes and there goes the last of her Aura. Blake tells Weiss to go back inside and stop the Hound while she handles the Centinels out here, and they split up, but before Blake can reach her leader a new creature erupts from the ground and it’s bigger and more gross than the last bugs. It spits acid that comes up through a tube along its belly, and I’m confident in calling it an Alpha Centinel. Back in the eye of the storm, Klein tries to reassure Penny that she’s okay, which is phrased a little but I assume he means as “you’re in a safe place and your injuries have been treated, you don’t need to defend yourself like this”. The man is just a butler, he doesn’t know what we do about her internal struggle against antagonistic programming and her wrestling with her sense of self. Whatever new orders Watts has given her, she really doesn’t want to follow them. Luckily, there’s someone at her side to comfort her and hold her hand, and that’s Nora. Passing along the comforting words she got from Blake earlier this Volume, she tells Penny she doesn’t have to just be and do what other people expect of her. She may feel like a part of her is making her do what she doesn’t want to, but don’t forget about the rest. She’s more than just that one part of her mind or persona. It’s nowhere near the same situation as Nora’s own identity crisis earlier, but the words have the same positive effect. Penny gains control again and the wind barrier subsides. Weiss reports in that the Hound is heading inside and she’s on her way to intercept, and gets the bad news that Willow fled the room to go who knows where. Well, we know now cuz we see it, she went to what I assume is her own bedroom (god forbid she and Jacques still share a bed after 8 years of the most sour their marriage has been). On her vanity there’s another bottle or two of booze, and her Scroll. She wants to retreat to what she knows best, but hesitates and then gets spooked by the shattering sound of the Hound breaking in through the window above the front door.

It picks up on Penny’s scent from the blood stained on the floor, but by the time Weiss charges in through the front door it’s gone. The next five minutes of the episode have major horror movie vibes, and I love it. Weiss slowly looks around the foyer for any sign of the beast, when Willow screams over her Scroll to look out above her and indeed the Hound drops down to backhand her into a piano. Instead of staying to attack her, it goes to follow Penny’s scent again and leaves Weiss to check in with her mom after that sudden warning. Biggest triumph thus far, Willow threw her bottle against a wall and instead pulled up the feed from her series of surveillance cameras around the manor on her Scroll to track the Hound. It’s near Winter’s old bedroom, and Willow doesn’t seem to understand that it’s tracking a scent like a bloodhound. Maybe she just doesn’t encounter Grimm a lot or they’re just usually not this competent and singularly focused. She recognizes the direction it’s heading next with great horror, and what we see next gives us that same dread. Whitley still has blood on his clothes, and he dismisses Willow’s warning cuz he probably doesn’t think she has anything to say worth hearing after his years of dealing with her drunken state. He’s almost done setting up the automated orders, when he hears the door starting to open and angrily snaps at what he assumes is Willow coming to check on him since he didn’t answer the call. But he is dead wrong and hides behind the desk immediately, because it is indeed the Hound come to potentially kill him. He’s doing his best to hide, but it expands its vocabulary to tell him it knows he’s here. Just as it’s about to round the corner, an Alpha Boarbatusk charges in and pins it to the wall. Weiss isn’t the only Schnee in the house who can summon, and Willow will not let her son die this day. He’s about to bolt out of the room while it’s preoccupied with the summon, but turns back to hit Yes on the computer and get the evacuation plans started. Good job kid, you did more to save Mantle than your father and Ironwood combined. The two sprint down the hall with the Hound in hot pursuit, but get some respite from an ice wall forming between them and the Grimm thanks to Weiss arriving from the opposite direction. She’s out of breath, but assures them she didn’t forget about either of them, most likely as a callback to the conversation she and Willow had last Volume about Whitley being left behind when Weiss and Winter sought independence. The unarmed Schnees express their gratitude and retreat from that wing of the house, and Weiss prepares her summons for combat with the beast breaking through the ice.

Back outside, Blake is struggling with the Alpha Centinel and complains about how gross it is. She avoids its scythe blade-like arms with some clever use of elementally charged shadow clones and begs for Ruby to wake up and give her some backup. But that can’t last forever and eventually it holds her by the neck ready to slice. Before it can, though, Ruby wakes up and bisects it first. She laughs weakly and tells Blake she heard what she was saying. They hear a scream coming from inside the mansion and head inside to meet up with the others. Weiss and the Hound hear it too, and the Hound stops doing its best “Here’s Johnny” impression through the hole in the ice to go chase down this new sound. We see the source of it, and it is in fact Penny losing control of herself again to the new programming. The red eyes stay this time, and she shoves Klein aside once again to stiffly and mechanically walk out to the foyer. As fate would have it, Willow and Whitely are there too, and they naturally question the fact that she’s emotionlessly walking past them when last they saw she was bleeding and unconscious. She responds that she’s going to open the vault, and then apparently self destruct. Not to state the obvious, but we really can’t let that happen so lets hope the power of love will break through to her. Before Penny can even get down the stairs, the Hound arrives to try and grab her and she catches his hand effortlessly, and then the other, so they’re stuck in a shoving match stalemate. The Hound solves this problem by growing a new arm out of its back and using it to grab Penny by the head. It slams her around like a ragdoll, still repeating “Take the Girl”, and holds a claw up to her throat when RWB arrive at the bottom of the stairs. Blake and Weiss are unsure how to intervene, but Ruby goes stone cold serious telling it that’s enough. In the literal blink of her eye, a Silver Eyed blast blinds it and sends it falling out the window behind it leaving Penny to tumble down the stairs unconscious again. They hope and pray the threat is over as they check her body, but the real horror starts now. 

The Hound claws his way back up through the window, and part of his head has been blasted away to reveal a dog faunus with one intact silver eye. In a voice likely not used in a long time, he continues to repeat his orders to “Take the Girl...” Ruby is mortified and shell shocked to see a living person within the frame of this beast unlike any she’s known prior, and I’m sure the wheels in her mind are turning to wonder if Summer Rose suffered a similar undying fate at Salem’s hands... and if that’s what will happen to her if she is captured? He begins shambling towards them and they try to carry Penny away from him but end up cornered. Whitley gets an idea and he and Willow start pushing on the knight statue nearest to them. Just as the Hound, whose human portion I have been inspired by a podcast to call Johnny, is about to grab the girls the statue falls down and crushes him to death. A choir chants in Latin as the Grimm fades away... and for the first time leaves behind a skeleton. Ruby seems shaken to her core as she confirms to the others that that was in fact a person they saw in there.

Ending that side of the story entirely for the week, we go back to the rubble in the jail cell to see Cinder has found Watts and the two make a flying get away. So that’s fun, we’ll have to see if they make it back in time to intercept JRY trying to sneak through Monstra. Until then, I’m gonna sleep like the dead. Ciao!

[shadowjack12345]

Old Dogs

I promise I’m working on the (long overdue) next part of Three’s Company, but I needed to get this idea out before I carried on with it.

The old man watched the world go by from his preferred spot in the park. They had replaced his favourite bench years ago, the one in which he'd carved his name all when he was young, and the smooth, artificial surface was impervious to something as mundane as a penknife. He watched as the people milled around - some things never changed - in an array of hues and races he would never have considered possible. At this point, Earth was a full participant in wider interstellar politics, meaning humans spread out into the universe, and the universe came to Earth. Blue, red, pink, purple, orange. Aliens were so common here now that no-one paid them much mind, and no-one gave a second thought to a green-skinned old man on a park bench.

The air shuddered. His pointed ears twitched, still more sensitive than most even when dulled by time. Some things never changed. Villains still plotted. Heroes still fought to stop them. He turned his left hand up and the device around his wrist projected an image of the local news above his palm. This was a new guy who had already started to make a name for himself: Carnus. And he was a Red user, with skin to match - he had animal powers, which was especially irritating. Still, the local Titans were there already, and he let a little pride inflate his chest

.

There was the current Kid Flash. And the new Wonder Boy. And the newest Robin, a girl this time. Ah. And there was the man's Grandson, Crow. He watched as the boy enveloped himself in wings of black energy before charging at their enemy. It was an old, familiar dance, and he waited for the familiar ending. But it didn't happen that way. To the man's clear distress, Carnus quickly and savagely tore into the Titans and batted them aside, shifting into one form after another, all carnivores.

"Oh sprak," a young woman said as she plopped down on the bench beside him, staring at the same footage in her own hand. "The Titans are getting scorched! They need backup or something," she muttered. This was a terrible idea. It was an objectively terrible idea. It couldn't possibly end well.

"They need backup," the man said to himself.

"You say something?" said the young woman, still watching. She looked around when no answer came. "Hello?" She heard the beat of feathered wings.

"The much-vaunted Titans. Ha!" Carnus spat. "You're no match for the power of the Red, and I am its champion, Carnus!" He stood, laughing, gloating over his fallen enemies. Only when his own died down did he realise someone was laughing along with him. He turned and saw a withered, green old man, his fingers on the pulse in Crow's neck.

"You think you're the champion of the Red?" the man asked, pushing himself to his feet with both hands on his cane. "Now that's funny."

"Foolish old man," Carnus growled before shifting into a panther and lunging forward. The old man, to Carnus' amazement, shrank into a hummingbird and darted aside while Carnus' jaws clamped around the cane. The bird flew above him and morphed into a hippo, which crashed down on Carnus. The hippo became a bird again which hopped away and shifted into a tired old man, hands on his knees as he breathed heavily. Carnus took his human shape.

"You're a Red user... You're the Changeling!" he snarled.

"Took you long enough," Changeling chuckled.

"You are old and weak and stupid," Carnus barked.

"Hey! I am two of those things at most," Changeling griped.

"Enough! Your time is over. Your death will signal the beginning of my time, the time of Carnus!"

"You, uh...  you really like your name, huh," Changeling drawled.

"Show me your power! Show the world you are no match for Carnus!" With that Carnus shifted and grew. And grew. And grew. He took the form of some alien creature, a biped with thick, grasping arms that stood as tall as most of the buildings around them. Changeling sighed.

"If you were my student, I'd remind you that power or strength isn't the key to victory unless it's wielded with equal skill,"

"I am no student!" Carnus thundered, the creature's voice booming.

"No. But I can still teach you something." Suddenly, Changeling started to shift. And grow. Green poured out of him, it spilled into the sky above and grew so its shadow encompassed the entire city. Then it kept growing.

Aboard the Justice League satellite, alarms blared and beeped as the fight in Jump City raged on. The woman on watch, semi-retired in her mid to late fifties, was known as Corvid, and she watched in open-mouthed horror as a creature appeared and grew so large as to block her view of the entire City, only to keep growing.

"What is it?" she heard. The current Batman was next to her, and his voice made Corvid jump.

"I'll try and find out," she said. She closed her eyes and let her empathic senses reach toward the creature, trying to sense its motive, where it had come from, how it... "Oh. Oh no," she said, her voice trembling.

"Corvid? What is it?" Batman asked. His eyes widened a little when Corvid turned to face him with very uncharacteristic tears in her eyes.

"It's my father."

The Carnus creature looked up at his foe, some sort of massive insectoid creature, with a long, segmented body that seemed to reach the clouds. Multiple legs were folded under its belly, and great, transparent wings rested along its back. It blotted out the sun. With a low, distant, indecipherable rumble, electric arcs coruscated across the giants eyes, and a jagged bolt of lightning cracked the sky, striking Carnus in the chest. With a cry, he fell backward and shrank back down to himself, smoking and defeated. The giant blurred and shifted, and its entire form poured itself into the shape of an exhausted old man who stood just in front of the injured Carnus. When the shift was complete, he fell to his knees and winced at the pain.

"The Red is a power that can't belong to someone like you. The world can't afford it," he gasped. Carnus looked up, shaking his head weakly.

"You... you wouldn't kill me," he said, without much certainty.

"No, I wouldn't. But I can't let you keep it," Changeling said. Carnus tried to sit up but barely moved.

"You can't do that," he whimpered. "No one can, not even the Red's champion." Changeling smirked.

"Want to see a trick my wife taught me?" he said. He shuffled a little closer and clamped his hands on either side of Carnus' head, leaning down to stare into his eyes.

"Please..." Carnus whimpered. Changeling looked regretful, but didn't remove his hands. His eyes started to glow and Carnus squirmed feebly.

"Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos." Carnus' body was suffused with red light and Changeling released him, sitting back as the light coalesced above them. When the flow from Carnus stopped, Changeling raised his hands and the energy rushed into him. There was a lot, Carnus' connection to the Red had been strong and profound, but to be honest, compared to the vast energies the Red had poured into him over the years, Changeling barely felt the difference. He leaned to one side, his hand on the ground. He leaned a little more and let his body lie down. The sound of Carnus crying sounded muffled. He blinked up at the sky  as dark shapes appeared in it, too blurry for him to identify...

Garfield Logan woke up in bed. Not his own. Last he remembered, his wasn't surrounded by so much medical equipment. And his head felt like a bass drum after a concert.

"That was very dangerous, you know," he heard. His heart swelled and he grinned. Corvid. Rachel.

"Hey, pumpkin," he said. Corvid sighed but failed to hide her own smile. Crow was stood behind her. "Hey, pumpkin junior." He waved.

"Hi grandpa," he said shyly. "Um. Thanks. For saving me and my friends."

"You're welcome, kid. Now unless there's something medical stopping you, you better give me a hug," Changeling laughed. With another, less shy, smile, Crow stepped closer and leaned down to hug his grandfather, who hugged him back. "Oh, that's a good one. Good thing I'm already in a hospital bed seeing as you probably just cracked all my ribs." Crow shook his head and laughed. Even at 17 years old, he couldn't resist his grandpa's dumb jokes.

"I uh, I healed you up best I could," Crow said. Changeling looked up at him with wide eyes.

"You got your healing working? That's great!" he cheered. Crow flushed a little under the praise.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did. Anyway, you'll be sore for a while but you didn't actually have any injuries apart from some scrapes on your knees. You were mainly just worn out. Sorry I couldn't do more."

"You did plenty. Thanks. Your friends all okay?" Changeling asked.

"Yeah. I healed them too, a little. It still takes it outta me," Crow admitted.

"You'll get used to it. You'll do fine," Changeling assured him. Crow opened his mouth to speak again but Corvid spoke first.

"Crow, would you please give us a moment?" she said.

"Uh, oh, guess who's in trouble," Changeling stage-whispered. Crow snickered for a moment before seeing his mother's face and leaving quickly. "What's up, pumpkin?"

"You know you aren't supposed to use your powers any more. The doctor said-"

"I know, pumpkin. I know. I decided it was worth the risk," Changeling interrupted. Corvid shook her head.

"If Mom was still here-"

"If your Mom was still here, she would have beaten me to it and you know it," he laughed. Corvid let herself smile.

"Yeah. Yes, I suppose you're right," she admitted. "Thank you. Thank you for saving my son."

"Any time," Changleling answered, more seriously but still smiling. Corvid pushed some of his thin hair back from his forehead.

"Still a hero, huh? Mom would be proud," she said.

"Thanks, honey," Changeling said.

"I'll let you rest for now," Corvid said, stepping away. "Maybe... maybe you could spend some time with some of our recruits. We have a few Red users, and it seems like you still have new tricks to show off."

"I think I'd like that," he said quietly. When Corvid had left, he looked up toward the ceiling but didn't see it. "Sorry, Rae. I'm gonna keep you waiting a little longer - I think this old guy still has a little story left in him."

­END

[perditaalottachocolate-blog]

Spring Fever (17)

@adrinetteapril 2019 story

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | art | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | art |  art  | 18 | 19 | 20 |

AO3 / fanfiction.net

A huge thank you to @goblin-alchemist for betareading this story! And thank you all for reading, liking, reblogging and for the comments. You make me very happy! <3

***

Chapter 17. Nightmare

In which Adrien is amazed

If Adrien had known her plan was to confront Nemesis and get attacked, he would never have agreed. This was by far the bravest and most reckless thing he’d seen Marinette attempt. Without batting an eyelash, with her chin high up, she faced the villain. The scene would feed Adrien's nightmares for years. His blood ran cold as he watched the love of his life challenging Nemesis.

'If you’re so sure I’m trying to use Adrien, why don’t you check it yourself?’ Marinette inquired. 'Is that because you’re afraid I’m telling the truth?’

'You’re not telling the truth,’ the villain shrugged, malicious grin on her marble face. 'See, I’ve been in this business all my life. I’ve seen it happening tens of times, I’ve heard of hundreds more. I know how it works.’

'You don’t know me.’

'Please, have you looked at yourself?’ Nemesis snorted out a laugh. 'What do you have that I don’t? What a girl like you could possibly offer to someone like Adrien?’

Marinette seemed to consider this for a moment. 'Talent?’ She offered. 'Honest friendship? Genuine affection? Baked goods? A killer partner in video games?’

Adrien saw a shadow of a smirk dancing on her lips. He couldn’t help but to think he liked this side of her very much and he wished he’d see it more often. Or maybe he just had a thing for strong women? She was playing with fire, demonstrating iron-clad confidence, a devil-may-care attitude and sass he had no idea she was capable of, clearly trying to vex Nemesis into making a mistake. And it looked as if her plan was working.

The akuma cackled. 'Baked goods?’ She parotted. 'Genuine affection? I think I’m going to give you what you’ve asked for, girl,’ she brandished the whip.

That was his cue. Adrien tensed, ready to intercept the weapon. He thought Marinette wanted to focus Nemesis’ attention so that he could sneak his way to her. He was wrong.

‘Show me what you got,’ the love of his life called out. She opened her arms, waiting for the crack. 

She didn’t have to wait long. With a banshee scream the akuma tugged at the whip. Marinette stared at her challengingly, not budging even one bit. The whip made contact with her skin. The crack was deafening in the narrow space of the underpass, masking Adrien’s frantic steps as he launched himself in their direction. Terrified he cast a look at his friend.

Marinette was still standing in her place, perfectly fine and unmarbleized. She raised a brow. ‘Your turn,’ she murmured.

Nemesis sent her a confused look. It only took a tiny fraction of a second and Adrien ripped the weapon out of her unresisting hand. Not thinking twice he threw it to Marinette, who caught it expertly and brandished it as if she’d been dealing with ropes her whole life.

‘Let’s see what you’re made of,’ she said.

Another crack thundered over the passage accompanied by Nemesis' cry of protest, both leaving an unpleasant ringing in Adrien’s ears. 

The space was suddenly short of villains. A stone statue appeared where Nemesis had been standing mere seconds ago. An outstretched hand, reaching for the whip. Lips opened in a silent shriek. Eyes blown wide and hair thrown back. Adrien was sure this was the least flattering image of Giselle he'd ever seen. 

Marinette limped to her. She weighed the weapon in her palm. 

'It's still dangerous, but if I break it and set the butterfly free while Ladybug is not here to purify it…,' she said.

Adrien shivered. 'The last thing this city needs is an army of Nemeses.'

'Despair not, civilians, who I see for the first time in my eternal life,' a familiar voice sounded from somewhere near the statue’s head. 'The cavalry has arrived! Well, metaphorically speaking.' 

Plagg's head popped from behind Nemesis' stone cold shoulder. Adrien suppressed a groan, while Marinette squeaked adorably in surprise.

'Sorry,' the kwami's ears dropped apologetically. 'I didn't mean to startle you.'

'What- who are you?'

Plagg tapped his nose. 'I'm Chat Noir's boss,' he announced with a toothy grin.

'Don't you mean "assistant"?' Adrien drawled. He had no idea why his kwami decided to show up to a civilian. Two civilians technically.

Marinette actually giggled at that, trying in vain to hide a smile.

The sprite sent him a flat look. 'I may be small in size, but I'm not some Santa's little helper,' he replied acidly. 'Anyway I'm here to offer my services as Chat Noir and Ladybug can't show up now,' he paid Marinette a deep bow.

'Your services?' The girl tilted her head, knitting her brows.

'I can relieve you of this cursed cargo,' he pointed at the whip, 'and take it to Ladybug for purification.'

'What are you going to do with it?' Adrien crossed his arms in front of his chest, his voice dripping with suspicion. First time he witnessed Plagg actually volunteering for anything.

The sprite looked between the two teens, then down at his belly and up at the ceiling. 

'You don't want to know,' he finally replied. 

'So you’ll get this to Ladybug?’ Marinette made sure. She passed him the whip.

'You bet,’ Plagg grinned. 'Cataclysm,’ he whispered and touched the weapon with a tip of his paw. The item turned to dust as the ground shook. A few cracks appeared where the whip lay on the ground, a few specks of dust fell from the ceiling. 

The akuma broke free. It fluttered its wings and took flight to sunlight. 

Plagg sighed. ‘Just think it tastes like camembert,’ he muttered barely audibly and leaped after the butterfly. Before Adrien could even ask what he wanted to do, the kwami swallowed the insect. He burped with an echo that should not be possible in such a small creature.

'Hey, since when can you-,’ Adrien started. 

Plagg sent him a warning look. 'I trust you two to keep quiet about this, okay? Now excuse me, but I have a Ladybug to catch.’ With one last grin he turned around and flew back into the metro.

Adrien watched until the kwami disappeared from sight. Marinette’s hiss of pain interrupted his plan to follow Plagg. 

‘Come on, I’ll help you,’ he offered, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders and taking her weight. Once again he was stunned by her scent. He tried to ignore his spinning head and blood drumming in his ears. Ignoring the heat that ignited his skin proved to be more difficult.

‘Adrien, wait.’ Marinette stopped him. 

She put a hand on his chest. He wondered if she could feel the frantic beating of his heart.

‘F-for what?’ he stuttered, her proximity threatening to render him speechless. He squeezed his eyes shut and resolved to keeping his intakes of air in short, shallow breaths, not to get drunk on her essence. ‘Your leg is n-not going to get better until Ladybug finally arrives.’

‘The kiss,’ she simply said. ‘Before something or someone interrupts us again.’

‘The kiss,’ he echoed, the finality of it suddenly crashing on him. 

Adrien looked at her, for the first time in days seeing Marinette in an entirely new light. Not only was she a great classmate and a thoughtful friend. She was kind and accepting, loyal, sensitive and respectful. But also strong, determined, creative and resourceful. She was brave, fearless maybe, definitely selfless. 

And she loved him.

‘No, I- I can’t ask you to do that,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t want- Oh, this is a nightmare!’

‘A nightmare? Why?’ She frowned. ‘Don’t you want to break the curse?’

If she’d asked him that question the day before, he’d undoubtedly said yes. But now he was hesitant. Why didn’t he want her to kiss him? Why hadn’t he confessed the true nature of the curse earlier?

Because I don’t want this to end, he realized. I don’t want to stop loving her. Because I feel it in my bones I belong with her. Because she’s my soulmate. 

Was this the curse talking? Adrien no longer knew how he felt. Where did his original feelings end and the miraculous magic begin?

‘Adrien?’ 

‘Loving you… it’s not-,’ he murmured. ‘It’s the best thing that happened to me since-...,’ his hand went into his hair. He caught a fistful and tugged, hoping for the pain to give his mind back to him. ‘I love loving you,’ he ended lamely.

‘But you’re cursed,’ Marinette looked at him from under her long lashes, her gaze worried and kind. 

He could drown in her eyes. He wanted to be able to look into them every day. He wanted to worship her every day. The nausea and panic rose from the depths of his stomach.

‘That isn’t fair,’ she continued, unaware of his internal turmoil. ‘You need to - as you said - be your own man. You need to make your own choices, not have magic make those choices for you.’

‘I know.’

‘We need to do this,’ Marinette turned to face him. Adrien failed to remove the hand that rested on her shoulder. She blushed and smiled sweetly. ‘And I’m not saying that because I want a kiss from a cute boy.’

‘I know,’ he chuckled, despite his unease, blushing even more. ‘Just… let me have this…’ he ducked his head and pressed his forehead to hers. He wouldn’t have dared attempt such an intimate gesture, but he desperately wanted to savor those last moments. He wasn’t sure what he’d remember once the curse was removed. 

Marinette didn’t shy away, just like she hadn’t when they had been talking in her room. She leaned into him instead, wrapping her hands around his middle. ‘Whatever happens, you won’t lose me, Adrien. I promise.’

Each time Adrien thought she couldn’t be more perfect, she proved him wrong. How could she read him like an open book? How could she know him like this?

‘You’re wonderful, Marinette,’ he whispered, his voice cracking. ‘Thank you. For everything.’

She climbed to her toes and reached to his lips. The world fell still.

***

Author’s Note: If you like this story, please let me know!

[walking-true-to-style]

Real Life or Fantasy || Queen Fantasy AU

Pilot: Seven Seas of Rhye

Pairing: Queen x Reader (Choose your own path coming soon)

Words: 2.35K

Warnings: Nearly drowning, this is just the introduction of Freddie. brief use of “It” when referring to reader.

Gender: Unspecified

Synopsis: Your father has always told you about the Island between the Seven Seas of Rhye. You never believed him... that is until you washed up on the shores of a strange beach after a shipwreck that separates you and your father. Now you’re in for the adventure you always dreamed of outside the rickety village of Driftwood Wharf as you meet the creatures of the island, including Freddie the Fairy King, and many others. But at what cost?

A lighthouse resides just past the rickety homes of the coastal village of Driftwood Wharf. Within the lighthouse is the keeper, your father, steering ships into the main harbor where sailors will do their trading or the occasional pirate will enter under the radar to wreak havoc and plunder from the markets until they’re satisfied. No, it isn’t the most glamorous of places, but it’s home.

...Sorta...

Today is like any other- a little misty in the morning, quite grey, a storm will likely roll in by nightfall. A nice day to walk the docks and maybe sketch the incoming boats before the rain gets too heavy. You pull on your coat, shivering from the breeze and walk downstairs to greet you father before heading out. Sure, you could probably get a good view from the lamp room, but fresh air will do you some good. You climb down the stairs into the office area of the lighthouse, the wood creaking under your feet. Once down, you enter the office where your father is scribbling in his journal, staring at a map of the seas. The bowl of soup you left for him the night before remains untouched, now cold from the hours of draftiness of the room. He doesn’t seem to even notice you enter.

“You need to start eating more...” you murmur, pressing a kiss into his silver hair, causing him to jump slightly. He smiles at you and returns the kiss to your cheek, letting out a tired sigh. He must’ve been up all night judging by his bloodshot eyes and dark bags behind his bottle cap frames.

“I will, I will… I’ve just been so focused on plotting this course. I want to be able to bring you back to the Seas of Rhye once I find it.” he tells you with a yawn. You sigh and shake your head slightly. In truth, you don’t really believe that the island between the Seas of Rhye is out there. Nevertheless, you still support his dream as best you can.

“I’ll make you a fresh bowl. Be right back.” Your father nods, and you slip out of the room to prepare more soup. Once back you set it down on his desk, careful not to splash anything on the documents strewn about.

“Here we are- fresh from the pot. You have to actually eat this one, papa. Otherwise, I’m gonna have to force feed it to you.” you joke. Your father snorts at you and slurps up a spoonful of the stew, not caring about his tongue burning.

“My own child bossing me around… You’re all grown up now, (y/n). Shouldn’t you be off married to someone nice or running a successful soup shop? You’d be very good at it.” he tells you sitting back in his chair, taking another big slurp. You roll your eyes playfully.

“But then who would take care of you, ya old fart?” you chortle, nudging him slightly. He laughs back and shakes his head.

“I suppose… I see you’re already dressed. Heading out to the docks to draw again?” your father looks over your coat, sketchbook already stored in the pocket from the day before. You nod to him with a smile. It was really the only think you enjoyed doing in town given that the people were as bleak as the village itself.

“Well, I won’t keep you waiting then, darlin’. You go have fun. Stay dry. I fear a storm is coming.” he tells you, pressing a kiss into your cheek. You nod at him, giving an “okay” before you head out the door. As you’re about to walk out, your father pipes up.

“Oh, and uh (y/n).” you turn to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” he says with a grin.

“Love you too.” you grin back before heading out.

Ah, yes, nothing out of the ordinary at the docks. You swear you’ve drawn the same boats at least a million times. The same man coming and going every other day to buy fish for his family on an island a few miles offshore from the mainland. The same fishing boats heading south of the harbor to bring in the next day’s fill… Everything is generally the same. Still, it’s a nice pastime. You look across the water back at the lighthouse, your father’s boat the Notus-Zephyr bobs in the water. You smile at it, knowing it would perhaps be sailed to find the island he often dreams of. You decide to draw it for the millionth time in your book, paying attention to details you may have missed in previous renditions.

Though you wouldn’t know without everyone lighting candles inside their homes, the sun has passed through the sky after hours of sketching. Thoroughly dampened from the on-setting mist, you pack up your sketchbook and pen before heading back. Thunder rumbles overhead. As you walk toward the lighthouse, an unfamiliar ship catches your eye, illuminated by the crack of lightning. Black sails, looking vaguely like the wings of a bat flap in the wind. You stare at it quizzically.

How did I not realize that it was there?

You blink and the ship is gone as fast as it had appeared. You press your lips together in confusion before shaking your head.

A trick of the light perhaps? No….

You try to shake it off and continue on your way back home. Still, you can’t help but feel that ship means something…

Once back at the lighthouse, you notice the office is illuminated by candles, signaling your father hasn’t moved from the room all day. You knock on the door lightly. A muffled “come in” is heard on the other side. You enter quietly. Not to your surprise, your father is still glued to his desk. However, more papers are thrown to the ground as before. You pick one up. It is a sketch of a man in red with quite the exotic look to him. Certainly not like anyone in Driftwood… He seems to have an overbite and a wild mustache as well.

“This looks really nice.” you say, admiring the artwork. Your father turns around and smiles.

“Thank you.” he grins. It’s easy to see where you got your skill from. You look over at the desk. To your delight, the soup bowl is empty, and your father seems to have a bit more of a glow than this morning.

“So did ya see anything exciting today? Or was it just Frank and the fishermen again today?” your father inquires, turning half his attention to you, keeping the rest on finishing up a topography of what you can only assume is the island.

You bit your lip, “Well… it may have been a trick of the light but….” you trail off. You fidget slightly with the buttons of your coat, unsure on how to explain the new phenomenon to him with the ship you- at least you think you saw earlier in the evening. Your father raises a brow at you.

“But?” he encourages.

“But I think I saw a ship with, like,..... Wings for sails. Certainly wasn’t a pirate ship-”

“Did you say wings for sails?” your father interrupts very quickly. You cock a brow at him.

“Uh- yes?”

“With black masts and disappears after you’ve seen it?”

You wonder if he knows of this ship. Judging by his panicked expression, you’d say he does… and not for a good reason.

“Yes, what is so import-”

“(Y/n), we need to leave Driftwood Wharf. Right Now.”

With more swiftness than you’ve seen from your father in years, he gathers up the papers and maps on his desk and shoves them into the satchel hanging on his chair. You watch him with sheer bewilderment.

“Dad, what’s going on?” you ask him, fear laced in your voice. Without looking at you, he replies, “There’s no time to explain. Help me gather everything up. We need to be on the boat as soon as possible.” his tone is grim, a stark contrast to his usual jolly one.

“What about the storm?” you press. Finally your father turns to you and grasps your arms. His face is unreadable with the array of emotions it holds.

“With that ship here, only bad things will come if we stay a moment longer.” he tells you lowly. It fills you with enough fear to shut up and help him gather everything. You both gather clothes and canteens before running down to the lighthouse’s dock and boarding the boat. Already, the rain overhead is beginning to get angry. Regardless, you both press on and sail off.

As you move farther from the lighthouse, your anxiety begins to kick in. You’ve always had an idea of what was going on. Day in and day out. Now? You’re sailing into the unknown.

“Where…. where are we going?” you speak up as your father steers the ship over the choppy water. He remains stoic, with a hard eye on the open sea.

“We’re getting to the Island.” he tells you flatly. Your eyes widen at him. The island?! It’s just a myth from his dream isn’t it?

“Papa, you can’t be seriou-”

“It’s out there, (y/n)! I know it is…” his hard gaze softens as he looks back at you.

“We’re…. We’re going to be safer there. As soon as we-”

“LOOK OUT!”

Suddenly, a wave crashes harshly into the boat, sending its nose upward. You have a death grip on the railing, and your father grasps tightly to the wheel, maneuvering over the angry ocean. Rain is hitting you with such an intensity, one might think they were bullets. It nearly causes you to let go of the rail. Still, you keep on.

“We’re going to be okay! Get the sails back up!” your father screams over the crashing waters and thundering storm. You inch your way to the rope, the wind howls through the sails as it blows the ship this way and that. You’re able to reach the rope and pull up the sails to at least keep them at bay. However, another colossal wave erupts, forcing the boat over with great force. You and your father are plunged underwater. You swim in a desperate attempt to find him in the murky blackness of the sea. Your lungs scream at you to finally get air, but you ignore them til the last minute. Above the ocean you cry for him, though, your voice is muffled by the storm. You hear him calling to you at a distance through the debris of the now cracked and sinking boat. You try to swim toward his voice, but another wave forces you under. You plunge down and manage to hit your head on a rock below, causing you to blackout… Your father’s voice now silent.

++++

You awaken on the shore of a foreign land. The sun beats down on your face, forcing you to shield your eyes. However, you cannot move. Your body is too sore and your vision is too hazy to make out anything. You are starting to pass out again when you see silhouettes above you.

“A human? What’s it doing here?” one sneers

“It’s badly hurt…. What do we do?” says another.

“We must take it t o t h e k i n g...”

You black out again.

When you awaken for the second time, you are in a room on likely the most comfortable hammock one could dream of. You peel your eyes open, but it is still quite dark. There are no windows save for one behind a tattered, red curtain letting in very little light into the tiny bungalow. You aren’t exactly sure what time of day it is, but all you can think of is how sore you are. And… father… Oh, god where is he? You try to move, but Every inch of your body alerts you of pain the second you attempt to peel yourself off the bed. You groan at the sensation, twisting onto your side and clutching your arms.

“I wouldn’t do that, darling. You had a very nasty night by the looks of it.” A sweet voice says. Though, you don’t exactly know where it is coming from.

“Who… who’s there?” you choke out, but your voice is hoarse. You crane your neck to a dark corner of the room. Squinting, you can just barely make out the shape of a man. His teeth glint in the dim light of the candle as he gives you a toothy grin.

“Oh, I didn’t introduce myself did I? How rude of me.” he chuckles. It was…. A sickly sweet sound. One you swear you’ve only heard in dreams. He steps forward into the light. Your eyes widen at the sight of the man before you. He is the same man your father drew up in his office…. The one from his dream, but-

“No need to gawk, dear. Though, it is quite flattering.” he chuckles. You truly cannot believe your eyes. Perhaps you, too were dreaming? Still, you avert your gaze slightly.

“No need to be sheepish, either, lovey. I am Freddie, the fairy king. And… you are?” he sits beside you on the bed. You know better than to give your name to fae from what your father has told you. You think up a new name, so as not to give yours up.

“Ainsel.” you choke out. Freddie looks at you, blinking for a moment, before letting out a hearty laugh.

“Clever little human. You know better than to give your name to the fae. Fear not, I will not ask you again, but I do need your help. If you want to survive here, you’re going to need to let me help you, love. I won’t hurt you. That is a promise.”

“A… promise?” you clench your jaw. Do fairies make promises? Or is this another trick? Still, something in his dark eyes seems genuine. He closes them and nods to you.

“You have my word…. Ainsel.”

To be continued...

A/N: Sorry that took so long oof. Especially with how short it is compared to short stories lmao. Here it is though!!! I’ll gradually start to introduce the other boys when I can in later chapters. Probably the next one will introduce someone else.

Taglist: 

@littlemisscaptainfandom | @jiswoogannon

[m-602]

The Demon Gang

((I finally found some motivation to write!))

((For context, three of the characters over in the Chaos Gang have super-demon forms that could lead to mass destruction if unleashed... I got the idea for a Demon Alternate Timeline where everyone, including those three, turn into demons and... Well, here we are!))

((Warning! There’s some swearing in here. Slight body horror and violence, too. Nothing too major, surprisingly...))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A quiet day. That’s the most one could ask when literally every other day involves them fighting for their lives, escaping some death trap, or dealing with some sort of emotional turmoil. Just a single day where nothing goes wrong would be a godsend to these people…

And for the most part, that’s exactly what the Gang was having… The morning was “normal” enough. Mikearu had another nightmare - with his arm subsequently combusting and staying that way - and Panda tried destroying the couch for some reason, but other than those exceptions, everything was going smoothly. Those who required food had their fill and everyone was enjoying the momentary peace and quiet…

…

As Astel always says, “never expect a normal day with us.” Or something amongst those lines…

Shadow visiting the house wasn’t exactly strange. It was how they did it that was unusual…

It was… entirely normal… They walked out from the… well, shadows with no unique flair. Nothing stupid. Nothing over-the-top. They just… entered. And it immediately caught Kitty’s attention.

Kitty: “Shadow? What’s up with you?”

Shadow: “Oh nothing much. Managing the demons, paid a visit to Beldam, all Hell’s breaking loose outside-”

K: “Wait. Hold up. What was that last part?”

Sh: “...All Hell’s breaking loose outside…”

Panda: “...So? That’s not exactly our problem.”

Sh: “No. I mean that in the most literal sense.”

Everyone else: “What?!”

The voidling directed their attention outside… Upon closer inspection, Shadow’s statement was not entirely inaccurate. Judging by the hellish creatures and the portals they’re walking through, rampant flames, red tinted sky, and overall chaos, Hell was, indeed, breaking loose into their world.

Astel and Eclipse: “...Well fuck…”

You know a situation’s bad when both the light and shadow are saying that…

Mikearu: “...How in the world did this happen?!”

Sh: “Not important.~ Right now, I’m in the middle of containing it… Help out if you want. Just don’t get in my way or get yourselves killed…

The voidling disappeared into the shadows once more, leaving the gang with that shocking bit of news… Hell, quite literally, was breaking loose outside and the world is being ravaged by it…

…

Mikearu and Astel were already out the door.

Reaper: “Wha-? No way in hell are those two going alone!”

Reaper was next up, dashing out the door and rushing over to the action…

P: “Ugh… Fucking morons.”

The feral child grabbed her favorite rifle and went to join her “friends”... For some reason, Silver had popped in from the ceiling… 

Silver: “Oooh! What’s happening outside? Is it a new game? I wanna play!”

And the clueless child was already running out the door…

K: “...Fuck it.”

The shapeshifter begrudgingly joined her friends outside…

...Well… Things definitely look worse than they did from the brief glance they got from the house… They got halfway to the city before they saw where all these demons were coming from - large holes in the ground, completely with sets of sharp, jagged teeth…

Astel: “...Hellmouths…”

M: “Portals to Hell, correct? We just gotta close them up, right?”

A strange feeling was overcoming the Gang… No one really seemed to pay it much mind though.

The Gang finally reach the meat of the action… Grim, Venatrix, and Shadow were already there, trying to keep demons away from the path to the city…

Grim: “Where the fuck have you been?! We could use some help here!”

Venatrix: “I can go check on the city proper. Mind actually dealing with these things?!

P: “Why not just let the city burn?”

V: “Not now, brat!”

A spike of ice killing a demon behind her immediately brings them out of the mini-argument. Astel has shifted into The Twilight Queen to better combat the literal hell-raisers.

A + E: “Shut up. We have more pressing concerns.”

V: “...R-Right. I’ll be off!”

Firing a few ethereal shots into the demonic horde, the huntress runs off before warping away, likely to help protect any innocent people. Panda shoots a flying demon to the ground.

P: “She should really just let them die…”

M: “Not now, Panda…”

Mikearu shifts into his “Assassin” form, utilizing his smaller stature and increased speed to weave around some of the beasts. He drives his knife through a demon’s head before leaping off of it, sending a massive lightning bolt at its partner. Shadow watches from a distance… 

Sh: “Well you certainly know how to hold your own… I don’t care what you do - just make sure to close up those holes…”

Void tendrils grab onto about three beasts at once, bashing them together until they stop moving before they retreat into the ground…

R: “And how do we do that? Just destroy them or something?”

Sh: “Basically.”

G: “Works for me.~”

Using her strings, she wraps up an incoming demon, sucking some strength from it as it was sliced up by her ringblade… Reaper, deciding not to just sit around, melted into the shadows, re-manifesting right behind an unfortunate demon. With a single slice of her scythe, the demon was ripped in two… Panda managed to shoot down a demon that was sneaking up on her while she was distracted.

P: “Pay attention!”

Now… You might think that Silver and Kitty aren’t participating…

...Well, for Kitty, yes that’s the case. She decided to shift into a bird amidst all the chaos and get a bird’s-eye view of the carnage. It never hurts to have a front row seat.~

Silver, meanwhile, was trying to have a conversation with a particularly violent demon.

S: “So whatcha here for?”

It tries to attack, only for Silver to literally bounce away from the hit.

S: “Hey! Rude!”

Shadow cuts the demon down, utterly confused as to how Silver’s even alive right now… And then they remember that it’s Silver. She gets away with more things than she really should.

...Other than that, the Gang continues trying to fend off the hellish beasts… After probably three minutes of fighting, they finally get close to a hellmouth…

A: “Come on!”

She drives her sword into the back of the mouth… It causes it to shudder, eventually closing and receding into the ground…

Sh: “Yep! Just keep doing that!”

Another mouth is blown to bits by Mikearu. Another is ripped apart by Grim. Another is burnt away by Reaper… Silver just closes one and it goes away, much to everyone's confusion…

…?!

After closing a few of the hellish gates, the ground started to rumble with thundering footsteps. An ominous feeling of dread washed over the “heroic” combatants as the footsteps seemed to come closer and closer… They look in the direction of the sound, only to find a massive hellmouth, slightly larger than the house they all live in, down the path.

A + E: “What… the fuck…?”

...The footsteps finally reached them, revealing the towering figure they belonged to… It was a massive, powerful demon donning coal black armor and a spiked scepter in its right claw. It’s head looked like a deer’s skull, completely engulfed in a raging fire.

Sh: “Oh look! A high class demon!”

M and Ikearu: “That explains a few things…”

It slams its scepter into the ground, sending a wave of earth towards the Gang, which they manage to avoid despite the shock.

M: “Wha’ do we do?! Drive i’ into the hellmouth behind i’?”

Sh: “That’s the plan!”

Panda is already trying to shoot it in the head, only for the bullets to bounce off the skull… despite it being a skull…

P: “Grr… Just die!”

It went to charge after her, only for a unsurprisingly angry Reaper to tackle it, forcing it backwards.

R: “Hands off my kitten.”

P: “...Right…”

The demon stumbles back, eventually regaining its footing. It holds the scepter high, magic gathering around the spiked tip. As that happens, a magic aura gathers around Reaper, slowly raising her in the air before a blue fireball slams into the demon’s chest, forcing it to drop Reaper to the ground…

M + I: “Hands off my child.”

R: “...”

After shaking off her blush, she stands up to confront the demon again. It sends spell after spell, projectile after projectile, trying to keep the Gang at bay. Icicles pelt it, lightning pesters it, bullets annoy it, and strings restrain it as a void tendril starts knocking it towards the hellmouth it came from.

G: “All yours!”

With a nod, the voidling, using a rather large tendril, knocks the demon in the hellmouth as another tendril goes to impale the hellish gate. Before it could, though, an aura of magic overtakes the scepter as the demon swings it forth. A wave of magic overtakes the gang as light blinds their sight, the hellmouth shriveling up before it sinks into the earth…

…

Sh: “...Shit...”

…

After what felt like forever, Mikearu manages to regain his sense of sight, shaking his head at the headache he has… What the hell was that? And why did his whole body ache?

…

He brings a fiery left hand to his hea- Wait?

FIERY?!

M: [“W-What the hell?!”]

Even his voice didn’t sound the same. It sounded more like he was projecting it instead of actually speaking it… What the…?

What the hell did that thing do?!

A: “Holy shit… M?!”

He snapped his head to Astel, immediately noticing her change in appearance… It… looked kinda like her nightmare form… But her armor had a different look to it. A shimmery, midnight blue with black accents. Now that he had a good look at her, he noticed the two pairs of wings on her back… Two angel wings - one pure white, one burgundy black - and two demon-like bat wings - one coal black, one black and red… Her eyes were a fiery orange, with red swirls in the left and gold swirls in the right… He recognized this form instantly… The Midnight Queen…

M: [“Astel?! What happened to you?!”]

A: “That’s what I was about to ask you!”

M: [“I was hoping you’d know! I don’t have a clue, either!”]

He picked himself off the ground, noticing that he was actually floating in midair… Wait a minute… It can’t be… 

A ghost-like tail… A form similar to his child state (only bigger)… Fiendish claws…

…?! Demon horns and fox ears…

...The True Fiend…

M: [“Wh-What the-? I’m a Fiend! The True Fiend! B-But… How am I…?”]

Sh: “Blame that high class demon…”

Both Astel and M look to the voidling…

A: “What exactly… did that thing do to us?”

Sh: “Hm… Well, from what I can tell, it turned you into demons with a forbidden spell… But it’s not like I’m a Demon Lord who’s some sort of expert on this kind of stuff…”

M: [“...Can you tone down the sarcasm for five minutes?”]

The voidling just shrugs, a smug smile on their face.

K: “Mer… What happened? Something just knocked me out of the sky…”

A: “Uh… Kitty…”

K: “...What happened to you guys? And why are you looking at me like I have three heads?”

M: [“Well, you don’t… But…”]

The demon wings coming out of her back were easy enough to see… Kitty opened her eyes…

...Her crimson red, hollow eyes…

K: “Well? What is it?”

A: “I think it’s better if you saw for yourself…”

Gathering magic, she creates a crystalline wall in front of Kitty. It acts as a mirror, allowing Kitty to see the changes she went through…

K: “...”

K: “Well fuck…”

M: [“It got all of us? Wait… Where’s the others?”]

R: “N-No… This… can’t be happening…”

The voice belonged to… a formless, massless shadow where Reaper used to be… It was heavily disfigured in more ways than you could imagine - multiple thin arms, multiple wings, eyes fucking everywhere… It looked… familiar…

...The Eldritch…

Sh: “Oh… A voidling rip off… Cool…”

R: “That’s… not funny, Shadow…”

M: [“...R-Reaper?”]

The massless shadow seems to look up at the Fiend…

R: “M… That’s you, right? ...H-How are we…?”

M: [“...That demon. That’s the only explanation our local Demon Lord has decided to give us…”]

He shoots a glare Shadow’s way as he says that. They just smirk.

G: “Well that explains something…”

That voice belonged to… a mass somehow more unstable than Reaper… It barely had a form, and whereas Reaper had a slight blue haze around her, this one seemed to glitch spastically and randomly… 

G: “Pretty sure me and Reaper would barely be sane if this was natural…”

R: “With some… exceptions… I feel fine…”

P: “Ngh… Speak for yourself… My head is fucking killing me…”

Panda was stumbling towards them, looking relatively unchanged… Except for the arrow tail, demon horns, and wings…

P: “And before you say anything… I’m well aware of what’s happened to me… It’s so easy, even a moron like me can figure it out…”

Sh: “Well… You’re still a moron…”

And thus, Panda flipped them the bird… They couldn’t care less…

A: “Well… That’s almost everyone, but… Where’s-?”

S: “Woah! You guys look awesome!”

...The chaotic little toon girl was not even scratched by whatever did this to them… Typical Silver…

M: [“...How did you…?”]

S: “...How did I what?”

M: [“...Nevermind…”]

S: “Okay… Oh! Right! I managed to get one of those mouth things and put it in my backpack! It’s really cool!”

Sh: “Wait. Run that by me again?”

A: “...You pocketed a fucking HELLMOUTH?!”

S: “Yeah! I even gave it a little radio dial…”

She then started rummaging through her bag…

S: “I wonder what would happen if I-”

And then ‘poof’! She was gone…

R: “Silver?!”

K: “Welp. There she goes.”

P: “...She’ll be back.”

Surprisingly (or unsurprisingly at this stage), no one denies this…

…?!

Ah. Right. They can’t have a moment of calm without two ethereal bullets nearly hitting M, Astel, and Reaper.

A + E: ~ “What the fuck?!” ~

R: “Who the fuck?!”

M + I: [“Who else?!”]

They turn to find Venatrix… Aiming her gun at them… Utterly shaking in fear…

...Ah. Right. They’re kinda super-demons now…

V: “Wh-What the fuck… What the hell happened?! Answer me b-before I b-blow your heads off!”

She looks too scared to even get off a decent shot… Empty threats it seems…

Gotta love confused panic… 

Sh: “Calm down, moron… They’re still your friends… They’re just more demonic now.”

The Midnight Queen has flipped Venatrix the bird for nearly shooting her head off… Yep… Exactly what a regal lady would do… 

V: “W-Well… That just leads to a whole ‘nother issue…”

M + I: [“And that is?”]

V: “The fact that a group of demon hunters from all over everywhere is on their way over here.”

Everyone Else: “Wait, what?”

M, using his status as a fire Fiend, floats up a little to get a better view… 

...True to Venatrix’s word, a literal army was headed their way, with an assortment of weaponry that M barely even recognizes…

And one of those weapons nearly hit M dead on.

M: [“Holy shit!”]

A: “God damnit!”

P: “Damned ants…”

Being Panda, she decided to pick her rifle back up and start returning fire… With flaming bullets…

P: “Oooh.~ I like this.~”

Everyone else just facepalms…

G: “Can’t we just kill them?~”

Sh: “I like that plan!”

M: [“No! Because those weapons are made to fight demons…”]

K: “...I’m running if you are!”

The shapeshifter turned devil creature immediately bolted… Venatrix immediately followed suit.

P: “Wha-? Cowards!”

A wall of extremely hot electric flame separates them from the horde of probably malicious hunters.

P: “Holy-”

A: “Just go.”

P: “Wha-”

Aaand the Midnight Queen has picked up the homicidal imp with a rifle. Lovely.

Meanwhile, both Eldritch are warping the environment to try and help slow down the hunters as they retreat with their allies… After probably three whole minutes of doing this, they manage to make it to the house…

K: “...Well this sucks.”

P: “Grr… Let me down.”

The Queen does so… with a smirk.~

P: “Hng… Don’t do that again…”

Sh: “Wow… You guys have no idea how to demon, do you?”

The four super-demons proceed to glare at them menacingly…

Sh: “...I don’t know how to take that response.”

M: [“This body is the only thing I’m uncomfortable with… And the fact that I’m a Fiend…”]

Everyone, including M, is just going to keep silent about how he was part Fiend anyway…

A: “It’s not like I haven’t been a demon before… Just not a super demon…”

R: “And me and Grim were part Eldritch before, so…”

V: “Speaking of which… Can’t you guys… um…”

G: “...Tch… Rude…”

R: “...Well… It wouldn’t hurt…”

G: “...Whatever…”

Both Eldritch seem to shift and change, the shadows that make up their bodies moving to their will… They shrink a little, to the size they were at before. Some of the arms fade away, some of the wings return to the body, and some of the eyes seem to blink away… When the form change was finished, they both looked like they normally did… with some key differences. A shadowy appearance, with respective outlines (blue for Reaper, green for Grim) was immediately apparent… Upon closer inspection, both of them seem to have four eyes, arms, and wings, along with henna tattoos - Reaper’s on her main right hand, Grim’s on her back - to indicate their status as Eldritch…

G: “There. Better?”

Venatrix just nods…

K: “So… We’re demons now? What, do we have to live in Hell now?”

Sh: “Hm… With the state Hell is in right now, I can afford to leave you guys be. Especially since you’re either not supposed to be demons or were already part demon to begin with. Right now, just don’t get killed or something.”

S: “Besides! Hell ain’t got nothing on the places I just visited!”

Sh: “?!”

The origin of the voice, a spectral Silver floating in the middle of the living room, made itself known.

M: [“Silver?! What happened to you?!”]

S: “I went to an afterlife! You can’t really be alive for those places. So I’m a ghost now!”

She does a few flips in midair… rather flimsily…

S: “Isn’t it cool?”

A: “Erm… Kinda? You’re sort of dead now, though…”

Silver just crosses her arms, pouting.

S: “Does that matter? I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

R: “...I mean… Yeah…”

S: “Well… It was nice visiting, but there are other afterlives I want to visit!”

P: “...Can I go with you?”

She was already fading away by the time Panda asked… Aaaand ‘poof’. No more Silver.

P: “Fuck.”

…

M: [“...So this is our life now, huh?”]

A: “Hoo boy… These wings are going to be a real pain to sleep in.”

G: “You can’t just make them go away?”

A: “No. I can’t.”

K: “Wait. I can’t make mine go away, either. God damnit.”

P: “Sucks to be you, Sonic.exe.”

Astel just snickers… M shakes his head…

Sh: “...I’ve got my work cut out for me…”

Yes you do, Shadow. Yes you do.

[rotttnapple]

count: 1,692 tw: violence, death (human), blood, guns, swearing, animal upset (no animal injury or death) part 2 | part 3

under a cut for violent themes!

rainbow unicorn space kitten @pohocounty

-

In his dreams the truck engines had been thunder from the storm. Maybe because it was all mixing together – boom, crash, lightning turning night into day and back again, the rain pounding and slashing against the windows, driven by hard gusts of wind. Charley was sleeping good, sleeping great really, for the first time in a while. The goats were secured in the barn and there was no sick youngsters to feed and hold, the crows only wanted to sleep. Dulu near them, a comfort to them, hanging upside down and wrapped up in those great big wings, snoring away. There was a baby monitor on his bedside table, a video camera that switched lazily through the nurseries, volume cranked up high (he'd been awoken in the middle of the night to puppies and kittens, once sick and frail now rambunctious and full of life deciding three in the morning was the perfect time to play, he never minded it). Now the feed didn't switch, just trained on the crow cages where the injured birds rested, Dulu's rough, grunty, snores like a lullaby to all of them. 

It was the crows that woke him first.

Harsh, frightened, coupled with clashing and clanging, thrown toys and beaks smashed against bars (he always felt guilty, caging them, even if it was a just a temporary measure). Charley was awake in an instant, the sleepiness gone. Shoots a glance to the monitor – there's no sound of Dulu's diesel-idle rumbling, but he's not there, either. Even if he had been down in the basement Dulu would have been there in an instant for his beloved birds, there to hold them and soothe them. There's no Dulu and they're terrified. Something's wrong. Something's wrong. 

He's out of bed and kneeling on the floor, dragging the black plastic case from behind the dresser and popping the latches when he hears the scream full of anger and pain. There's no equivalent in human kind, no animal or man or man-made thing could make a sound like that. Charley looks up as the lightning flashes again, framing Dulu against the sky boiling with black clouds, his wings pushing him higher, a thick cable seeming to grow from his chest, taunt as he pulls against some unseen thing. He's read enough about the bastards to know. He doesn't need to see it to know. The shotgun inside the case is loaded, twelve shells of double-aught twelve gauge buckshot all lined up in the tube that ran the length of the long barrel, plus one in the chamber. Charley had it long before he found Dulu all tangled up in that hellish net, bought for the express purpose of keeping those good ol' country boys away, the kind that thought it was funny when people like him got their faces rearranged while pleading for their lives. He had waded through all the bullshit to find out how to use it without blowing his own foot off, but he never actually used it, not liking the sound of guns, too loud and too horrible.

He's going to use it now, by fucking god he's going to use it now. There's human shouts, faint over the noise of the storm and Dulu screams again. It sets Charley's teeth on edge, breaking his heart and filling him full of hatred and rage – not for Dulu, never for Dulu, but for the bastards hurting him. The ones that think it's all right to come onto their land, disturb their peace, upset their sweet pets (he's headed towards the back door, cat eyes staring at him from dark little places), hurt his Dulu. Dulu, who's shown him nothing but kindness. Dulu, who's always been there to keep the monsters away, who's never mocked him for his fears. Charley's just not going to allow these trespassing bastards leave, not a single hateful one. He bursts out the back door – like a bat outta hell – and is almost immediately tossed off the back porch by the wind, bare feet sliding on the rain-slicked wood as he reaches out and braces himself against one of the posts, fighting mother nature with the shotgun gripped in his other hand. Charley gets down the steps without breaking his neck, barely, barefoot with his toes digging into the soft earth as he marches across the yard towards the lights, the shouting. A real imagine of protection, he was, wearing nothing but rainbow unicorn space kitten shorts, already soaked dark with cold rain.

Lightning cracks again and just barely saves him from tripping over a corpse out here on the grass, one arm gone and it's head split open like a rotten melon. He doesn't even stop to look at it, he doesn't care, there could be a thousand corpses on the lawn and he'd climb over all of them to stop the living from hurting the winged man up there in the sky – ohshitwhatifhesstruckbylightning. The truck lights – floodlights, spotlights, all kinds of lights, too many fucking lights when he and Dulu should've been sleeping – are some help in that they throw those bellowing, stupid creatures into sharp relief. Charley gets just a little closer, splattered in mud up to his knees, soaked to the bone, lifting the shotgun up to his shoulder and seating it firmly there, digging his feet into the mud to brace himself as he cocks his head to sight down the line of that long, long barrel. Just like he read how to do it, sets his finger on the trigger and shoots. The mud is slippery as shit and the recoil knocks him right on his ass, ears ringing, a sharp and offended pain in his shoulder. The excited shouts were now overlapped with agonized screaming, someone's legs just got a whole lot of buckshot in them as another voice raises above the others demanding order 'cause they were gonna kill it, gonna end this tonight. Like fuck they were.

Charley rises from the ground like a corpse from the grave, digging the butt of the gun into the ground, clawing, fighting every last bit of the storm and the mud that threatens to throw him down again. He gets up just enough to rack the gun, blowing some other shitfucker away, the wind was probably throwing half the accuracy right to hell but it was still enough to make it a face full. He's growling, deep and dark and animalistic in his throat but he doesn't notice, no more than he notices the pain in his shoulder. They don't notice him, either, the fall of their so-called friends probably blamed on Dulu, they always blamed everything on Dulu, never took half a fucking second to even try to know him. Maybe it was better, they didn't deserve to know him. He sees Dulu – just a glimpse, moving fast and low, avoiding another shot harpoon to snatch a hunter off the back of his truck like a pear off a tree, disappearing against the black clouds. Charley grins with vicious victory, slithering along: hands and feet and shotgun, mud washing off fast as it's packing on his skin. Someone nearly trips over him and gets a belly full of lead for it, tumbling off into the dark. The clearest details are Dulu, when they hurt him, when they tear him up with bullets and flying bolts shot from pneumatic guns attached to long wire cables. Charley doesn't notice the spray of blood in his face, the kick of the gun, how his body is aching from unseen rocks or the sting of hot casings that once landed on him in a shower (took care of that problem real fast, rack and shoot, the thunder overlapping the sound).

Charley doesn't notice when the storm lulls, calms, shotgun empty but that didn't matter at all. He'd come across some country fried fucker laying in the ruin of their yard, alive but dazed after getting tossed out of one of the trucks. Charley climbed up on man (howdarehecomeherehowdarehethinkhecandothis) like a feral animal, reversed the gun, grabbed the hot barrel in both hands and stabbed it through his throat. Charley's turned the gun back around and is mashing the bastard's face into a pulp with the butt of it, words gone into an unintelligible scream of rage that goes on and on; only stopping when Dulu comes and (gently) tugs the gun out of his hands, tosses that aside, gathering him up against his hot skin to limp back to the house. Charley curls up tight against the big old boy's chest, mud-wrecked, bruised and bleeding from a dozen scrapes and superficial cuts, shivering from cold and a protective fury. He wants to tell Dulu that he was worried for him, scared, that the birds are scared out of their minds too, the cats are hiding, the house is in chaos and he was so worried he was going to lose him forever, that he shouldn't be carrying him because he can walk and Dulu's injured and damnit those wounds are going to get infected somehow. Instead he's pressed against Dulu's naked chest, breathing too hard, heart pounding, eyeballing every body they pass, ready to lunge out of those big arms and suffocate any bastard that dare twitch right there in the mud. Charley almost does it, too, before one of those big wings come around and block his view, holding in the warmth that the rain had sapped from his skin.

By the time they reach the house again Charley's sleeping, his body shutting down to recover from the sudden influx of primal instinct, soothed by Dulu's deep breaths, the odd crackle and pop of his body repairing itself all over again. The cats begin to appear from their hiding spaces, tails twitching inquisitively, a few meowing their soft questions, the crows settled, offended but calm. Outside the clouds begin to tatter and pull apart, allowing the sun to begin it's slow and ponderous rise over the earth, heedless of the slaughter below, or the stupidity of the men who caused it.

[inkstained-qfantasydragon]

The Dark

 The world is dark.  

   I don’t mean like the dark of night, although the night has a bit of the darkness of which I speak. I mean dark of soul. So much violence, pain, suffering… They all corrupt our world, whispering in ears, nudging humanity down, down, down into darkness.  

   Or to the Dark.

   He’s real you know, the Dark.  

   Of course, that’s not his actual name. His name isn’t really something humans can say. It’s whispered in the language of angels, and cackled in the tongue of demons. The Dark is the closest a human can get to what it means.  

   Dark-of-the-Soul.

   But even the Dark has some light.  

   And if you listen close to the stars on a cold winter’s night when the moon is gone, you can hear the story of how he came by it.

   Deep within the heart of the world, off in an untended corner that no one dares acknowledge by word or thought, is a palace. There the sky is always the black of night without stars, and the land slopes downward. For the most part, it’s all battered rock with the occasional bare tree and scraggly patch of brown grasses that whisper to themselves in a wind that never stops.  

   Amidst all this, the palace seems out of place. The palace, you see, is absolutely beautiful.  

   Oh, it’s built out of black stone with sharp towers that stab the sky, but it is an extremely graceful building that seems to sing of secrets and knowledge and comfort and power.  

   Always remember that. The Dark has a beautiful covering.

   The inside of the palace is just as beautiful too, smooth floors and walls, libraries and sitting rooms, ballrooms and hidden nooks. Everything a person could want.  

   There is only one inhabitant of the Black Palace though. There are, of course, those who visit the palace, thinking that within they will find whatever it is they want, those who listen to the song of the palace and come seeking secrets and power.  

   That’s the funny thing about the palace though. If a person tries to read the books in the library, they will all be blank. The sitting rooms will be full of furniture that jabs and cuts, and the ballrooms will forever be empty and echoing. The hidden nooks will become places to hide from yourself, and the smooth floors and walls will lead you in circles until you waste away into nothingness.  

   No, the only living thing in the palace is the Dark.  

   He himself matches the palace. He is tall and made of nothing but darkness stretched over bones, like a monster wasted away by famine. His limbs are long.  His fingers and toes are the same, both tipped with claws sharper than regret, and from his back stretch great bat wings. From his head spiral thick horns, matched by silver shaggy hair, like the top of a lion’s mane. The Dark’s teeth are sharp, and his eyes are a solid black, with only a ring of silver to mark the difference between iris and pupil.

   All the day, or what passes for it in a land of constant night, he walks his halls like a tiger on the prowl. He stands and whispers to the wind, who carries his words out of the world’s heart into the ears of humans. The Dark sits in his chairs that jab and cut and creates dark designs that he sends into the world to wreak havoc.  

   He finds pleasure in his solitude, in this horrible, miserable life.  

   Then one day, everything changed.  

   The Dark was sitting in one of his chairs, carefully weaving a plan based on prejudice, quite pleased with how it was coming along. Then a light, curious voice asked,

   “What’s that you’re working on?” The Dark whipped his head up, for even in this place that he ruled absolutely he had not known of anyone’s approach.

   In the doorway stood a girl.

   She was as white as he was black, the color of clouds on a bright day, pearls from the sea, the full moon on a clear night. Her hair was a long wispy affair that drifted about her like mist in the mountain morning, and she appeared as delicate as that same mist. She was small, looking like nothing more than a young child. But what kind of child wound up in the Black Palace?

   “I do not see how it is any of your business,” he replied slowly, thrown off guard for a moment.  

   “Well that’s not very nice,” she laughed. She crinkled her nose, danced over to where he was working and snuck a look at the paper he had been writing on before he snatched it away with a snarl.  

   “And that really doesn’t look very nice,” she said. The Dark glared at her coldly.  

   “While you are here, little girl, it would be wise to leave me be.” He stood up and swept out of the room.

   It did not matter who this strange girl was. She would soon waste away like all the others.  

   The Dark smiled at the thought.

   But, much to his dismay, the girl did not waste away. In fact, she seemed to thrive.

   Soon, every moment the Dark was pestered by questions, and the little girl followed at his heels, talking incessantly.  

   “JUST LEAVE ME BE,” he roared at her one day. She started back and seemed to shrink into herself slightly.

   “I’m sorry,” she apologized, “Am I bothering you?”

   “Yes, very much,” he hissed at her.

   “Oh.” The girl hesitated for a second before darting away. The Dark sighed in relief, rubbing his head before walking into a sitting room. He had finished his plan of prejudice and was currently working on one with hate. It was not going as well as he would have liked, thanks to the girl bothering him non-stop.  

   Hours later he walked into one of his libraries, looking for a book.  

   The Dark stopped dead and stared in amazement.  

   The girl had taken the books, which were all blank to her, and, lacking any sort of pen or pencil, begun to tear out pages and fold them into all sorts of fantastic creatures.

   “Oh, hello!” The girl said cheerfully, looking up and seeing the Dark standing there.  

   “What.” He said with all the cold, crystal clarity of clear winter ice.

   “The animals? Well, all your books were blank, there was nothing to write with, and I had annoyed you, so I thought I’d make you a present.” The Dark stared at her for a long, silent moment before turning on his heel and walking out, wings rustling behind him.

   So the time passed. Not the days, for the sun never rose on the Black Palace and the sky never grew any lighter, but time did pass. The girl kept aggravating the Dark, distracting him to no end.  

   His plans remained unfinished.

   The wind no longer carried his whispers into the world.

   His plotting ground to a halt.

   The darkness grew a little less dark.

   The Dark finally moved almost exclusively into the tallest tower of the palace. There he lived in relative peace and quiet for a while, because the girl had never thought to climb the steps that led to it. He spoke with the winds and wrote plans of destruction.

   “Thank goodness she doesn’t come here,” he muttered to himself.

   Until one day, she did.

   “What are you doing now?” she asked curiously of the Dark where he stood talking to the wind, his back to her. He stiffened and so, so slowly turned to face her, fury in his eyes, wings spread wide.

   “Why,” he asked with a very deliberate tone, “are you here.” The girl blinked at him, baffled.

   “Well, there’s no one else to talk to in the palace.”

   “No,” the Dark said in that same tone, “Why are you here in the Black Palace as a whole.”

   “Oh!” the girl said, her confusion vanishing, “it was such a dark place here, I thought I’d come and see if I could brighten it up.”

   The Dark stared at her. That stare had reduced the strongest of people into shivering balls, made mountains tremble.  

   The girl just smiled cheerfully.

   “I like this place just as it is,” he said through teeth that were ground together.  “If your intent is to introduce some...light,” he said the word as others would say death, poison, or murder, “then get out of here and never come back.” The girl looked at him thoughtfully.

   “No,” she said softly, “I won’t.”

   The Dark stared at her.  

   In all the immeasurable years that he had been, no one had said no to him.

   “I am Rage,” he told her, “I am Misery.” With each name he stepped forward and behind him the dark grew until it blanketed the walls and seethed like the sea in a storm and his voice grew until it was the clap of thunder directly overhead. “I am Torment! I am Regret! I am Grief! I am Murder and Envy and Pride! I am the Bitterness that drives you to madness, and then I am the Insanity that chokes your thoughts like a noose! I am Gluttony. I am the Prejudice that drives humanity apart, and the Hate that festers in the gap! I am War and Violence! I am the apathy of the Ignorant. I am Fear. I am the Temptation that leads you down thorn-covered paths until you can no longer see the way out! I am the Unknown that makes men tremble at night! I am the Darkness of Every Soul! WHO are YOU to say no to ME!”

   And that little girl,

   made of pearls and clouds and moonbeams and mist,

   as delicate as a lullaby hummed in the night,  

   stood before the Dark-of-the-Soul with all his power raging behind him,

   and did not flinch.

   She did not back down, did not cower.

   She looked the dark straight in the eyes and gave a little smile.

   “I am Hope.”

   And the mass of the Dark’s power vanished away, broken against that little girl like a wave against a rock.

   And for the first time since the Beginning of it all, the Black Palace stood witness to a dawn.

   The Dark bowed to Hope, for he had no power over her.

   He never has.

   He never will.

  To this day, Hope resides in the Black Palace. The Dark still sends out his whispers and plots and lures people to the palace, but now anyone who stumbles there only has to ask for help and Hope will guide them out. And even in the utter darkness of the Black Palace’s nights, she provides light in the Dark.

   So the stars whisper,

   on winter’s nights when the moon is gone,

   to anyone who stops to listen.

[toboldlywrite]

Planet Profiles- 3- Zeryaha

Mood Song

The World

Zeryaha is completely a desert world. As far as its people  can tell, it used to be a very rocky world, but the rock eventually broke down into the sand that covers the planet (sand that is mostly red-tinted with flakes of golden stone through it). The stone that remains is extremely magnetic, and can activate residual magnetic forces in the sand, causing some particularly massive dunes to remain their massive size even through the fierce wind storms that plague the world for half its year. The other half of the year is known as the Silent Season, when there’s hardly even a breeze at all.

[[More]]

It never rains on Zeryaha. All water is stored underground. When the magnetic plates far beneath the sand shift enough, water will come up to the surface, creating pools that last as long as they can before evaporating or soaking back down (or being drunk/collected). The plates are moved by Zeryaha’s three moons, so the cycle of water is actually pretty regular. The water that does evaporate comes back down as dew during the dawns/dusks, and fog in the mornings. Of course when it’s windy, the water from the pools can get blown into what appears to be rain-- rain that goes up and sideways and tries its best not to go down. The movement of the plates underground can sometimes cause a thunder-like noise-- just from under your feet instead of the sky.

Life

There are several small mammalian and reptilian creatures on Zeryaha. But there are a few that are bigger/more well-known. The Ovoro are huge flying animals that look like something you’d get if you crossed a wolf, a bat, and a hawk. Like a griffin with a wolf’s snout, a hawk’s eyes, bat wings, back talons, and front claws with webbing between them for digging prey out of the sand. They lay eggs which they leave buried in the sand until they hatch-- then they return and care for their young until they can fly and hunt for themselves.

The Aerah are massive, serpentine, plant-like animals that burrow in the sand during the day and come up at night to photosynthesize in the moonlight (sunlight is too strong). They don’t have eyes-- just a photosensitive organ on the top of their heads so they can tell when it’s time to come up (that and sensing the temperature change). They are covered with leaf-like growths that allow them to take in the moonlight. Right before Wind Season starts they sprout seeds which float off to grow into new Aerah (asexual reproduction).

The Igeta are underground plants with roots that dip into the water stored beneath the sand, and tentacle-like roots that grab any passing burrowing animal for extra nutrition. The Ovoro will collect them sometimes for water, although all of Zeryaha’s creatures can survive for quite a while without drinking. When part of an Igeta is cut off it will grow into another one. Sometimes it purposefully breaks part of itself to reproduce.

The Daer are flowering plants that only appear when the pools of water do and only bloom for a day. It is thought that their seeds stay in the water, dormant, soaking it up underground until it gets pulled up to the surface, where it grows, blooms, releases its seeds, and dies all before the sun sets. It’s seeds are carried by the wind during the Wind Season. If they land in another pool, another Daer will bloom again, some day. If not, something gets a meal.

The People

The people of Zeryaha are mammalian, and are very well adapted to the heat and lack of water (they don’t do so well in cold environments, though). They have brown skin with either red or gold undertones, and eyes in shades of red and gold. Their hair runs from purple to red in dark, rich tones. The royal family is known for the psychic abilities-- being able to see into the future (usually). According to legend, this is because they have some Drakynis blood mixed in with them. But that’s not taken very seriously.

They use a method of fusing and then sort of 3D printing sand to make their buildings. Transportation is powered by activating the latent magnetic properties of the sand, and everything else is powered by wind (half of the year) and solar (all year). Travel between cities usually only happens in caravans and during the Silent Season. Despite technology, Ovoros are still threats to lone travelers. Cities themselves are protected by energy domes that let the wind in but keep the sand out. Because of that, a lot of newer buildings are open-air with only curtains to separate inside windows and doors from outside.

While their architecture almost blends into the sand on the outside (if more shiny), on the inside its full of colorful mosaics. They wear a lot of loose, flowing clothes, some of which moves on its own. Wearing shards of magnetic stone is also common.

The main religion on Zeryaha worships a goddess with three eyes-- the three moons. The wind is her breath, the water her blood, and the stone is her heart-- the sand symbolizing how that heart broke when her people were separated from her. The Zeryahans making their buildings by fusing the sand isn’t just practical, it’s symbolically trying to rebuild that heart. Since they consider the wind her breath, you can probably see why they let it get through their energy shields instead of shielding themselves from it, too.

Whew! Thank you all for joining me on yet another world-building adventure in the Star Universe! Zeryaha is Savi’s home planet, so it is related to Star Fire, I promise! Feel free to ask any questions you may have (about this or anything else!).

@lady-redshield-writes @bluemartlet @kittensartsbooks @therebewhaleshere @merigreenleaf @rosesonneptune @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables @bethwrotethis @incandescent-creativity @starlitesymphony @wordships-and-wolves-writes @picturemobilee @mezvii @jaimistoryteller

lmk if you want to be tagged or not in future world-building/Star Fire posts!

[roominthecastle]

A QUIET PLACE: creature details

The design was headed by Jeffrey Beecroft. It was then Scott Farrar (ILM) and his team’s job to bring them to life, guided by John Krasinski’s vision for the creatures. “We looked to lot of naturalistic phenomena,” said Farrar: prehistoric fish, black snakes, and bats, particularly their movement patterns. “John had his own ideas about weird fish with shells that looked like hard stone and having them run like bats with their wings folded. You should look at an actual bat running: he goes one-two-one-two with overly long forearms just like our creature. I kept saying to John, we gotta make this gross. I want it to look really medical and raw, like you open up and it’s almost guts or brains." Krasinski wanted them to feel like evolved predators who had phased out the necessity of eyes. They also had to be “somewhat humanoid,” Farrar recalls, but not so much that they could cast a man in a suit. Inspiration was also drawn from cadavers that have been mummified in peat, turning the skin black and giving it a sagging, leathery look.

The final design is a bony humanoid, but larger than a human and much heavier with huge sharp teeth. Armor-like panels of exoskeleton blossom out from its head to reveal a fleshy area where there’s a huge ear. “It’s like dog slobber when the flap opens,” Farrar said, noting the mucous membrane that coats the area. “When they shut, we might do a splatter of saliva or goo.” Farrar suggested having them rotate like radar dishes aimed at where the sound came from. “So the flaps literally find the sound first and then direct the head and the rest of the movements”. This also allows the creature to sense exactly where sound is coming from, by triangulating the sound waves with its different flaps. The drastic shift in sound while watching the movie is meant to reflect this. “The ear opening up and the creature, all of the sounds blossom and you for a moment experience what the creature hears sonically,” Erik Aadahl (E² Sound) added.

It’s easy to think of the creatures as unintelligent, but they’re actually closer to the xenomorphs from Alien. “We thought of them as intelligent and communicating with each other,” said sound engineer Ethan Van der Ryn (E² Sound). “We experimented with this idea of echolocation,” Aadahl said. “They do it to reflect the environment around them and paint a picture with sound. That’s their searching mode.” Ethan Van der Ryn also described the more animalistic “idling mode,” of the monsters saying, “We used a lot of snorting, sniffing, rasping — to give them an organic grossness.” In their third “attack mode,” they “move at incredible speed with their long limbs” and make “crazy violent snatching hits” with their limbs, and their thunderous movement conveys “weight and scale and power” accentuated by a blood-curdling shriek. They also interact with the electromagnetic spectrum, causing lights to flicker and triggering large-scale power outages. “There’s some sort of electromagnetic interference between anything electronic and these creatures,” Aadahl said. “When they come into a room, the lights will flicker or when they appear on the security monitor, they’ll fritz.”

They discovered that it was more effective to have the creature never stand up. Instead, it leans on the front arms, even when running. They move rapidly, so that for much of the film all you see are quick, large blurs that jolt out of the woods and pounce on their prey. When you do finally see them, they’re utterly grotesque—large and lithe, with faces that open up into a flap and thumping ear canals that get lots of garish close-ups.

[x] [x] [x]

[shachaai]

[Ficlet] Meow

Short bit of single mothers human AU, nyo fruk at the very start of checking each other out, for Halloween. If it’s not clear, Marianne = f!France, Elaine = f!England, Madeline = f!Canada, and Abigail = f!America.

   There are not many things Marianne Bonnefoy will not do for the sake of her daughter. So if her Madeline - sweet, dear, charming little Madeline - wishes to attend a Halloween party/sleepover being thrown by one of her friends, Marianne will make sure she is finished work early that day so she can take Madeline to the party.

Even if the mother of the girl who invited Madeline is one of the few parents of the children in Madeline’s class - or possibly the whole school - that Marianne would happily throttle with a smile.

Abigail Kirkland, bright, bubbly and one month older than Madeline, is a loud but extraordinarily friendly six years old who Marianne thinks of with great fondness, because Abigail had taken one long look at a nervous Madeline on Madeline’s first day in her new school and instantly declared herself to be Madeline’s best friend. And had stuck to her oath. She had stayed by Madeline ever since: Madeline speaks, shy but happy, of how they help each other out in class, play together at playtimes, and swap treats and stories and fraying friendship bracelets made of ribbons and thread.

Elaine Kirkland, Abigail Kirkland’s single mother, is a lithe mid-twenty-something sent straight from hell in a pencil skirt to make Marianne’s life a hell whenever the both of them show up to the same PTA meetings. How Kirkland birthed or otherwise gained a child as amicable as Abigail when she herself is such a sharp-tongued wilful creature is a mystery known only to God, because Marianne has found herself at loggerheads with the woman on multiple spectacular occasions, the last of which had seen them both forbidden by the school’s headteacher from ever again running or otherwise contributing to the cake stall at the school’s summer or winter fairs.

(Words had been said that should not have been said in the presence of under-10s. Two plates had been damaged, and a Victoria sponge had hit the wall. A blouse had certainly been torn, and the rumour-mill still cannot agree on whether there had been hairpulling.

Kirkland still insists the problem had been Marianne’s attitude, as though attitude sent projectiles flying down the length of the school hall with a harpy’s shriek.

Marianne still blames, firstly, Kirkland’s rock cakes, which had been hard, grey and definitely more rock than cake, and secondly, Kirkland’s inability to realise her contributions to the stall counted as lethal weapons - both when thrown and when imbibed.)

Many others - however grudgingly - sing Elaine Kirkland’s praises, and Marianne just does not get it. Kirkland can be brusque with others - never the girls; Marianne would whisk Madeline away if she thought for one second that Kirkland had so much as dared to dream of hurting Madeline’s feelings in some ways those times Abigail had had her friend stay for dinner at her house after school -, but the only person she seems to reserve her most particular ire for is Marianne. Something about Marianne seems to get on Kirkland’s nerves, and, well, everything about Kirkland - from her blunt words and smug expression down to her poisonous cooking, wilful stubbornness and terribly ugly shoes - gets on Marianne’s.

But Abigail is Madeline’s dearest friend, and Madeline does not have many friends, so if that means Marianne must occasionally tolerate Abigail’s awful, awful mother, Marianne will gracefully grit her teeth and do so.

For Madeline.

Marianne is a wonderful mother, even if she must say so herself.

That still doesn’t stop the first words coming out of her mouth when Elaine Kirkland opens up her front door in all black and cat ears from being:

“Oh, ma chérie, did you get tired of being a demon the other 364 days of the year?”

Madeline, an angel too precious for this terrible world and currently looking too adorable for her mother’s heart in her yellow-and-black-striped leotard and matching tulle skirt, doesn’t get it. Still holding Marianne’s hand, she tilts her head back to look at her mother, making both the gauze wings on her back and the sparkly antennae on her headband bounce and flutter. “But, maman, Miss Kirkland doesn’t wear costumes?”

Miss Kirkland, whose once-pleasant smile has frozen on her face in the familiar rigor mortis it suffers whenever it chances across Marianne, does the honourable thing - for once - and ignores Marianne’s comment. Perhaps it got lost in the wall of noise coming from the house: pop music and happy children’s shrieks.“Madeline, what a pretty costume! I love your skirt.”

Madeline, who really does not get as many compliments as she deserves despite her mother’s best efforts, beams. “I’m a bee!”

“So I see,” says Kirkland, and smiles a great deal more genuinely down at the girl between them, making the black whiskers painted on her cheeks shift with her smile.

Marianne would be able to forgive the woman many things if only she smiled that way more, preferably at Madeline - and also preferably, Marianne is slowly realising, whilst wearing the very shimmery, very sheer gauzy black top she currently has on, which all the world can just see through enough to see Elaine Kirkland’s surprisingly sexy black lace bra beneath.

Elaine Kirkland is a pretty lithe mid-twenty-something from hell (how old is she? Surely she’s younger than Marianne), and looks very, very good in black. (Such a shame about everything else about her.) She makes an interesting cat, and is certainly feline enough to pass the look off: her eyes are very green in the night when she smiles - a lot more sharply - at Marianne. “And I see your maman came as a hag?”

“Uh,” says Madeline, confused, and misses entirely the way her mother is glaring over her darling head at her best friend’s mother. That had been an exceedingly cheap shot; Marianne is disgusted for all of their sakes. “Maman?”

Marianne doesn’t get the chance to comment. Elaine had already pushed the door wider, letting out even more noise from the party within, and yelled over her shoulder: “Abigail, Madeline is here!”

There is the immediate thunder of many young feet from inside the house.

“Why don’t you come in?” Elaine gestures at both Madeline and Marianne, though she speaks to the girl first. “Abby will show you where to put your overnight bag, dear,” which Marianne is content to pass into her bewildered daughter’s hands from where she’d been carrying it on her shoulder for their walk to the house, Abigail appearing in a blur of Wonder Woman red, blue and gold with at least three other girls behind her and immediately hauling Madeline away with a cheerful hi, Ms. Bonnefoy! “Some of the other parents have stopped for a little while to have a drink and chat, and we can discuss what time it would be best for you to pick up Madeline tomorrow.”

“I drove here,” says Marianne flatly, in reply to the drink. With no innocent ears around to hear her, she need not be so polite any more.

Elaine rolls her eyes, and steps back further. (Rather than a cat, she should have dressed as a witch.) The hallway behind her is festooned in cotton-wool cobwebs and strings of electric pumpkin lights. “It’s a children’s party, Bonnefoy. We have soft drinks. Or tea, coffee, if you’re worried about sugar.”

Marianne caves a little, if only for the excuse to peer around the house of the woman in front of her a little more. Before, she had always picked up Madeline at the door. “...Then coffee, please, if you have it.”

She follows Kirkland in, and after the other woman to the kitchen when Kirkland shuts the front door - and regrets it abruptly, every step of the way.

Along with the sheer shirt and gorgeous bra, Elaine Kirkland is wearing a tail pinned to her beautifully fitted trousers, and, with every step she takes, it sways, drawing the eye - Marianne’s eyes - inexorably to Elaine Kirkland’s beguilingly long legs and the faint curve of her arse.

Marianne has gladly dated men and women with legs and arse less beguiling. That one such combination should try and seduce her whilst Marianne is surrounded by plastic bats, spiders, skeletons and neon orange things, on a body belonging to such a pain in the metaphorical arse, is an affront to Marianne’s good sensibilities.

Some things should be inexcusable.

“You are a menace to decent society,” Marianne mutters, not meaning to be overhead - but is, because of course she is due to the universe suddenly deciding to hate her, Elaine turning to look back over her shoulder before Marianne has lifted her horrified eyes from where they are still firmly fixed on her cat hostess’ swaying tail.

“...Excuse me?” Kirkland has gone abruptly, terribly, quite fetchingly pink. In the face at least, Marianne cannot see any pink on her chest yet under the sheer black shirt.

Marianne is saved from wishing she had showed up that Halloween as the Invisible Woman by the reappearance of her daughter, still being happily hauled around by Abigail. Both girls screech to a stop so Madeline can seize her mother in a hug about the thighs, Madeline’s cheeks already red and eyes bright with excitement, headband lopsided on her head.

“Maman, there’s a piñata!”

Marianne loves her daughter so very, very much. And in that moment, for aiding her in providing a distraction from the repercussions from Marianne’s roving gaze, Abigail too.

“Vraiment?” Marianne crouches down a little to return Madeline’s hug, smiling over the girl’s shoulder at Abigail since her daughter’s friend seems just as excited. “What shape is it?”

Perhaps it is cruel to use the excited chatter of children to stop Elaine Kirkland and her watchful green eyes from probing Marianne any further, but Marianne does so anyway until her hostess takes the hint and leaves for the kitchen without her. Besides, Marianne is actually interested in what the girls have to say, happy about whatever it is making her Madeline so happy.

And if it means Marianne can leave a message with Abigail about what time she plans to pick Madeline up again the next day rather than having to talk again to the cat-demon- witch that is Abigail’s mother? All the better.

(There are not many things Marianne Bonnefoy will not do for the sake of her daughter. Some things, however, she definitely does not mind delaying for as long as possible.)

[restlessmaknae]

Best friends with a demi-god

As a part of my Birthday Prompt Party and the @day6writers Myth event, Best friends with a demi-god is dedicated to the always so kind @jminiebiased who has requested #25 „How do we keep getting into these situations?” “Eleven years of friendship and I still don’t know” with best friend Dowoon. 😉 I hope you like it, honey! 💖

Words: 1006

Setting: Greek mythology AU, Percy Jackson AU

Genre: fluff, comedy, fantasy, action

Pairing: best friend!Yoon Dowoon x reader

Being a demi-god was difficult. Being the son of Zeus was even more difficult. Being the best friend of the son of Zeus while being an ordinary human being was the most difficult of all.

I know. I know it all too well. I’m that so-called best friend of Yoon Dowoon who’s the son of the god of thunder.

Don’t even get me started what it cost me to be best friends with him. It almost cost my life after all. It’s not easier nowadays either.

On the other hand, I would fight everyone who says that Dowoon is a complacent jerk who doesn’t care about anyone because he’s the sweetest person I know. While it’s true that he looks a bit intimidating at first, I swear he’s a wee kid at heart. He just needs time to open up and trust people. He was already used and betrayed so many times, not to mention all those cases when people made fun of him just because he was the children of Zeus. He wasn’t physically as strong as his father but he could beat everyone mentally.

Considering that he was already used to all kinds of humiliation, he learned how to stand up for himself. He learned how to tell someone off and he also learned how to fight. He may not have been the best fighter in the world but he could throw a proper punch. He was still stronger than anyone I knew but he said there were way stronger demi-gods than him.

Truth to be told, I’ve never come face-to-face with another demi-god except Dowoon. He claimed that he didn’t meet a lot either because his identity was kept as a secret. He only knew from his grandmother’s last letter that he was the son of Zeus and his mother didn’t even know he knew about it.

If you wonder how I got to know that he was a demi-god… well, that’s a pretty exciting story. The only really exciting story in my utterly boring life.

It started like any other day and it almost ended like one. I was about to bid my goodbye in front of Dowoon’s house (because mine was further from school than his) when all of a sudden a totally unfamiliar figure showed up and attacked him. He ended up with minor wounds but the said guy’s situation was far worse. He ended up with a broken arm.

“That was…” I was trying to find the right words to say after I had witnessed my best friend fighting with another – much bigger and much stronger – guy. “Really scary.” I gulped down my nervousness, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable knot in my stomach. Dowoon only looked back with sad puppy eyes but didn’t want to comment on what had happened.

However, when we were having a movie night at his place and after opening the door for another total stranger, I was starting to get suspicious. Dowoon stepped out a bit to talk with the oddly looking guy and when he came back, he didn’t tell me who it was. I let it slip because I knew that if it was something serious, he would tell me. (Or so I hoped.)

I would lie if I said that the next peculiar encounter surprised me. It didn’t. On the contrary, it was definitely not an enjoyable one. It was actually a pretty uncomfortable one.

We were at the school’s library when a creature that I’ve never thought would appear right beside me showed up. I swore it had the wings of a bat with blood-shot eyes and a bony body. It only turned out later that it was actually one of the Furies but I couldn’t look at the creature longer because I fainted on the spot.

When I regained my consciousness, the first thing that I heard was Dowoon mumbling.

“How do we keep getting into these situations?” He shook his head in disbelief. His expression was solemn, firm and worried. I wouldn’t say that he was someone who worried a lot, so seeing this new side of him took me by surprise.

“Eleven years of friendship and I still don’t know.” I confessed huskily as I was trying to get up from the floor. Dowoon immediately crouched down to help me and started to bombard me with concerned questions.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you remember what had happened? Do you remember me?”

“Yes. No. Yes. And of course I remember you!” I answered without hesitation and a giggle escaped my mouth by the end of my interrogation. Then, a shiver ran down my spine as the face of that creature came to mind, so I knew I had to ask what had really happened.

After that, Dowoon decided to tell me the whole story; he told me everything from the moment he found out about his powers until an hour earlier when one of the Furies attacked him. Although what he said was totally out of my utterly boring world, I believed him. Not just because he was my best friend but also because I had suspected that something was going on. I just didn’t know what it was.

Being a best friend of the child of Zeus isn’t easy because now he’s in Camp Half-Blood (which is pretty cool if you ask me, it’s a camp for demi-gods after all). That being said, I’m not allowed to go there with him because I’m a mere human.

However, he always makes sure to check in, so I always know where he is and what he has done during the day. I’m not saying that I’m not jealous of him or I’m on cloud 9 because he was taken away from me but as long as he’s safe, it doesn’t matter where he is.

He’s Yoon Dowoon after all. He’s the son of Zeus, a light-hearted yet ambitious demi-god and my absolute best friend. I know I can count on him no matter what.

[ninowritesstuff]

Don’t walk alone in dark...without a magic friend and fiend, at least

Ft. poor latin translation and writing skills. Enjoy King and whoever actually came here thank you.

Translations at the bottom. I think they’re self explanatory though.

Here we go!

Under the cut :))

Callum knew that he shouldn’t have followed Ezran off the trail. He knew it was a bad idea, but he did it anyways.

I regret everything. Callum sighed as he nervously ran through the dark, foggy forest. Dense fog from a lake and low light levels blocked out the moonlight, and made it hard to see the anything in front of him.

“Ez! Ezran?” He called, with no reply. Callum groaned. Ez’s the size of a peanut. How far could he have gone?

Callum felt miserable.  Mud and grass became dead weight on his boots, and mosquitoes and blackflies began to feast upon his pale, exposed flesh. Callum’s legs ached from walking for god-knows how long, and he started to shiver when a cold breeze passed through.

He felt like a walking statue.

Eventually Callum approached a ravine. This is bad. Callum thought, sitting down on a large tree root. He and Ezran had gone astray, but Amaya and Gren also disappeared from his sight. Low, frightening growls echoed through the forest, and sent chills down his spine. Callum pulled out his sketchbook. Maybe he could comfort himself by drawing something.

Callum turned a batch of moss growing on the tree root and began to sketch, but his numb fingers couldn’t grip his pencil properly. It slipped out of his grasp and tumbled down towards the summit of the hill. He stared in disbelief as the wood and graphite stick rolled out of his sight.

“Oh nooo” Callum groaned, slowly packing away his sketchbook. He peered towards the bottom of the hill.

Doesn’t seem too steep. He thought, grabbing at a branch. Slowly, Callum began to descend, but the branch snapped and its weight knocked him down.

Down, down, down Callum rolled, every sharp branch and rough root that stabbed his back, eliciting a yelp of pain. His legs flailed uselessly while his hands clawed the dirt to grab at anything; anything, that could slow down his decent.

Callum tried at loose roots and branches, but they all slipped through his frozen fingers and left him with oily soot. As Callum barreled down the hill, soot stuck to his face, and the overwhelming smell of smoke burned his nose. Eventually his hand grabbed onto a small and sturdy tree. By then it was too late. Callum’s legs were submerged in the freezing lake water at the bottom of the hill.

Callum took some time to readjust, dusting his bookcase off and shakily standing up. He let go of the tree and scrubbed some of the soot off of himself. The lake water appeared to have a small shade of pink, and when he looked up he witnessed a beautiful sight.

Hundreds of tiny, round pink lights danced on and in the lake, each of them softly illuminating a small portion of the pale blue waters. The lights in the lake gracefully swam around in the water, accompanied by pink, firefly like orbs that floated around in the air above them. They clustered in the middle of the lake, slowly and gently blinking at random.

Callum’s eyes widened and he began to wade into the water, towards the cluster.

“You’re so beautiful” He whispered, as a soft pink light carefully approached his face. Callum could feel a small wave of heat coming from the creature, and cupped his hands. It landed in his palm, and Callum shivered as a of surge of warmth coursed through his hands.

“Wow. That’s pretty nice. Thanks.” Callum laughed. The tiny light in his palm flickered, and other dazzling pink orbs followed the first one; the levitating creatures settling for Callum’s arms and shoulders, while the lights in the water slowly surrounded his legs.

The heat radiating from the pink orbs felt wonderful. In an instant, the numbness and cold left Callum’s body. He felt like he was made of flesh and bone again.

“Woah, you guys are energetic!” Callum exclaimed as the lights began to guide him to the center of the pond. When the water levels began to reach Callum’s hip, he released the orb that rested in his palm and picked up his bookbag. The orbs shone brighter and started to hum and buzz.

As the lights hummed and buzzed, Callum began to feel a lot warmer. Although it felt nice, Callum wasn’t here to play around with fairies. He was here to find Ezran. He wasn’t too excited at the thought of going back into the cold and damp forest with his drenched pants, but he had no choice.

“Uh, thanks guys, but I should get going. I’ve gotta find someone.” As Callum turned around to leave the lake, a wall of glowing orbs suddenly created a large blockade in front of him.

“Haha! You guys are funny.” Callum nervously laughed as he shuffled to the right of the wall, but another glowing wall appeared to match his steps.

“Okay, uh.” Callum started to feel tense. Why weren’t they letting him through? “Well, it was nice to meet you but I gotta go-” Callum yelled as he tried to dash left, only to be met a third wall.

Callum gulped as the walls expanded to encase him in a large, pink dome. The humming of the orbs grew louder and louder. Intense heat began to radiate from them, and the submerged lights began to nip at Callum’s legs. As the wall moved closer and closer, Callum’s heart raced, and he felt himself presperating. The walls were pushing him towards the center of the lake, and even though Callum knew how to swim, he felt nervous.

“What do you want?” Callum yelled as the water rose to his chest. The orbs didn’t reply and instead chanted faster, causing the temperature to rise sharply. As the situation started to heat up (hah) the underwater orbs appeared to expand.

Fat beads of sweat rolled off of Callum’s cheek as the water started to bubble. His bookcase was suddenly scalding, and the glowing orbs advanced closer to him.

“Go away!” Callum screamed helplessly, swatting at the wall with his useless book bag. The water was beginning to burn, and was almost at his neck level. The underwater lights morphed into large, thick eels. The eels circled Callum, occasionally nipping at his pants.

“Leave me alone! Gren! Amaya!” Callum cried, his voice cracking as the intense heat from the pink glowing beasts scalded the now neck level water. The eels started to swim towards the surface, and Callum’s mind was racing as he endured the whole ordeal.

“Help me! Please!” He pleaded, skin flushing as the harshness of the heat continued to escalate. The monstrous eels reared out of the water and flashed their frills, bright beams of light attacking Callum as they bared their long, thin fangs. The ferocious heat and blinding light that surrounded Callum seemed to signal his death. He held his breath.

I guess this is the end. I will miss you mom. Ezran.

.

.

.

And dad.

As Callum shielded his eyes the exposed skin on his arms felt as if they were on fire. The eels gave off an ear splitting scream and charged forward.

“Callum! Don’t worry-”

Ezran!

Callum squinted towards the voice, and managed to catch a glimpse of Ezran before the eels blocked his vision. Just when he thought this was the end, he eels froze.

“Rraaaaaawwwwwwww!” A thunderous roar rang through the forest. Callum turned towards the cry and watched as a large black panther leapt onto the barrier. The eels stopped their assault and watched the large cat claw at the top the of the dome. Within seconds the panther clawed a huge hole through the top of the dome, and jumped down. It latched onto the nearest eel, and disappeared into the water with it.

Callum’s blood rang in his ears. This has gotta be the strangest forest ever. The cat reappeared at the surface and shape shifted into an otter. It grabbed Callum by the collar of his shirt and dragged him underwater, away from the eels and under the radiating wall.

The otter and Callum resurfaced away from the wall, and it threw Callum towards the shore. He landed on his back, book bag still in hand.

Callum watched as the otter exited the water and morphed back into the panther.

“Callum!” Ezran cried, jumping at the older sibling with a hug.

“Ezran!” Callum yelped as he tackled him. They hugged for a good five seconds before Ezran pulled away.

“Where did you go?” Callum yelled, grabbing the other boy by the shoulder. “We were so worried!”

Ezran laughed sheepishly. “Sorry for running off. I had to help Nisa.”

“Who?”

“This is Nisa.” Ezran gestured towards the panther, who was licking its paw.

Callum started at the cat. “Wasn’t it an otter just now??” He exclaimed.

“Nisa is magical! They can shapeshift!” Ezran turned towards the black cat. “Right Nisa?”

The panther, presumed Nisa grunted in reply, before abruptly standing up.

Nisa growled towards the water. Ezran and Callum scrambled away from the water and turned around.

The eels were combining with the pink orbs, and they shifted into three humongous, hideous bats. The tight leathery skin on the bats exposed the skeleton of the creatures, and the wings that suspended the bats in the air were thin and bony. Their blood red eyes fixated onto the trio.

Baring their long, needle like fangs they screeched and dived towards Callum, Ezran and Nisa.

“AHHHHHH!!” The boys screamed as they ran away from the bats. Nisa snarled and leaped towards the bats, attempting to ward off the attackers. A bat slipped past Nisa and charged towards the boys.

“Nisa’s telling us to run!” Ezran screamed, tripping as the bat narrowly missed his legs. Callum shrieked. “Where to? It’s hard to see anything!” He slammed his book bag into the face of the bat, knocking out a bloody eye.

The bat hissed and retreated from Callum.

“I don’t know! But-” Ezran was interrupted by Nisa’s scream. Two of the bats managed to grab the large cat and suspended it over the water. The panther started to shift into a bird, but was clawed in the stomach by the third bat.

Nisa gave a painful roar and snapped at the bats.

“We have to help Nisa!” Ezran yelled, looking around for a viable weapon.

“Didn’t you just say they told us to run? We need to leave! It’s too dangerous!” Callum replied, grabbing Ezran’s hand and pulling him onto his feet.

“No! I found Nisa injured in a hunter’s trap! They’re already hurt! We have to help!” Ezran pulled towards Nisa, but Callum dug his heel into the dirt.

“We’re gonna get killed if we do!”

“Callum, we can’t leave Nisa!” Ezran cried as he broke free from Callum’s grip. Running towards Nisa, Ezran picked up a rock and whipped it at one of the bats. It turned towards Ezran and screeched, before digging its claws deeper into the cat.

Nisa yelped and struggled even more, red stained fur growing ever more evident on the stomach and back of the cat.

Callum and Ezran watched helplessly as the bats dunked Nisa into the lake, violent waves breaking the crimson stained surface as the cat struggled to breathe. When the ripples in the water weakened, one of the bats reemerged and turned a blood red eye towards the boys.

“C'mon let’s go!” Callum screamed, pulling Ezran by the hand as they scampered away from the bat, who sped after them.

Callum did his best to lead Ezran through the winding trees, but the forest seemed to be cheering for their demise. The boys could hardly see which direction they were running in: dense leaves above them blocked out any moonlight, and heavy fog clouded their vision. Thick branches and abnormal roots tripped and blocked their path, slowing them down. None of these obstacles seemed to affect their attacker, who seemed to just soar by each barrier.

The adrenaline pumping through Callum’s body made it hard for to process which direction they were running in, and eventually led Callum and Ezran into a dead end. Corpses of closely intertwined trees surrounded them; the only viable exist was through the way they came from.

“We gotta turn around!” Callum tugged towards the way they entered from, only to be met by the snarling bat. He pushed Ezran behind him as the bat slowly advanced towards them. The bat hissed, spraying vile thick, green spit at Callum and Ezran.

“Stay back!” Callum eyed the bat and held his bloodstained bookbag towards it.

“Or you’ll get a piece of this again!”

The bat growled and jumped at Callum, grabbing his book bag with its oily claw. Without breaking eye contact it whipped the pouch behind the boys, towards the wall of hollow trees.

“Haha! You’re pretty strong” Callum nervously laughed. The bat slowly advanced, licking it’s crusty lips. It didn’t need to rush. These puny brats would be its dinner in a few minutes.

Callum braced for the attack but the bat flew above him and pinned Ezran down with a claw. Now that Callum was a lot closer to the monster, he could see how truly disgusting it was.

It was missing one of its blood red eyes, obviously from Callum’s book bag. The fur on its head was messy and mismangled (this is a real word), and the skin on its face was old and shriveled; it resembled a rotting banana peel. It even smelled like one too. When the bat snarled, he couldn’t tell whether he was looking at an animal, or decomposing feces.

Callum and Ezran were stuck in a pretty shitty shituation.

“Get off of my brother!” Callum screamed. He grabbed his book bag and slammed the bottom of the bag at the bat’s head.

“Find something else to eat!”

Irritated, the bat released Ezran. “Ezran run!” Callum yelled as the bat scuttered towards him.

It hissed and snarled, and then with its beady eyes and extended fangs, it leapt at Callum. He froze, horrified as the 100 pound monster prepared to devour him.

“Compactum Cataegis!”

A small whirlwind blasted the bat away from Callum. It slammed into the wall of trees with a loud crack, narrowly missing Ezran before falling to the floor with a heavy thump.

“Are you guys alright?” An unfamiliar voice asked. Callum shakily dashed over to Ezran, who was frozen in fear.

“Who are you?” Callum asked, standing between the stranger and Ezran.

“Uhh” The stranger paused, before taking a deep breath.

“Shrek.” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

The cloaked figure laughed before throwing their hood off, uncovering a human face. “I’m joking. Call me Phoenix please.” The stranger slowly walked towards Callum and Ezran, putting their hands up.

“I swear I mean no harm.”

Callum relaxed slightly. It was comforting to see another human.

“So uh, what was that?!” Callum exclaimed, clutching his bag.

Phoenix kneeled beside them. “A large and hungry Candle Bat. It’s strange to see them active at these times.” They retrieved some yellow paper wrapped confectionery from their pocket.

“Here, have some sweets. Maybe you’ll feel better after eating this. It’s the best candy out there” Phoenix handed a candy to Callum and Ezran.

“Pure Maple Syrup Candy.”

Ezran popped the sweet into his mouth immediately, quietly humming in delight. Callum pocketed the treat.

“Are you guys lost?” Phoenix asked, standing up. “It’s not everyday that you see children walking around in a forest at night. Speaking of kids, who are you guys?”

Callum helped Ezran to his feet. “We got separated from our Aunt. My name is Callum. This is Ezran.”

“We’re brothers.” Ezran interrupted, breaking free from his ‘icy’ state.

“Hmm, I see. How long have you guys been out here for? Callum you’re shivering.” Phoenix untied their cloak and handed it to Callum. “Your clothes are soaked. Put this around your shoulders. Keep Ezran under it as well. It’s quite chilly.”

Callum took and coat and wrapped it around his and Ezran’s shoulders. “Thank you.” The warmth of the coat felt nice.

“Follow me. I’ll lead you guys towards the trail up ahead.”

“Luceo caeli” Phoenix hummed, eliciting a small light in their palm.

“Wait.” Ezran halted and whispered towards Callum. “Nisa.”

Phoenix turned towards Ezran. “Is something wrong?”

“We left Nisa.” Ezran paused. “Nisa’s a-”

“A large black cat right?!” Phoenix interrupted, dismissing the light and grabbing Ezran by the shoulders.

“Yeah.”

“You found Nisa?!” Phoenix exclaimed, staring in disbelief.

Ezran nodded rapidly. “Yeah! I found Nisa in a hunter’s trap! Their paw was pretty busted, but they saved our butts!”

“Do you know where Nisa is right now?” Phoenix demanded, turning to Callum.

Callum paused. “Last time we saw Nisa, they were in the lake we just ran from. Nisa was fighting these two other bats just like this one and-”

“WHAT?” Phoenix interrupted, their face scrunching up with worry. “We have to hurry back! Do you know which way it was?”

Callum and Ezran shook their heads. Callum was too busy running to keep track of which way they went, and Ezran was blindly following Callum. Phoenix sighed and held out their hand. “Hold onto my hand. Both of you.”

Ezran instantly slapped Phoenix’s hand but Callum paused. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to fly us to higher ground. We have to find Nisa quickly. Fighting two or more Candle Bats alone is never a good idea. Especially when you’re injured from a hunter’s trap.”

Callum put his hand over Ezran’s, and Phoenix pointed their other hand towards the ground.

“Ventus Pila” A large ball of wind slowly suspended the trio off of the ground. Ezran and Callum yelped in surprise as it suddenly whisked into the air.

They were now elevated high above the trees. Below them, miles and miles of vegetation stretched out, the small tips of tall trees poked out of the dense fog. The only non-vegetation bodies visible were a few lakes and rivers that were barely visible. Above them, the sun peeked out of the horizon, painting the sky with a soft shades of orange; and drowned out the faint twinkling stars of around them. Faint cricket chirps cut through the silence of the night, and the occasional icy draft made Callum shiver.

Phoenix carefully analyzed the lakes below them. “Okay Callum and Ezran, do you remember what the lake looked like? Like, any weird trees or landmarks nearby?”

“No.” Ezran replied, shaking his head. He could only recall water, lights, Nisa and Callum.

Callum retraced his steps. What do I remember? Let’s see. I sat at the top of a hill, rolled down it, got covered in soot, was attacked by pink lights, then-

Wait.

Callum recalled getting covered in soot while rolling down the hill, and having to scrub it off in the lake.

“The hill I rolled down to get to the lake had a lot of soot on it.” Callum blurted, squinting at the possible lakes. “I’m pretty sure that the shoreline of the lake would be pretty dark.”

Phoenix flew them over to the closest lake.

“Hang on.” They said, murmuring “Ventus Canalis”, before blasting a column of wind towards the lake below them.

The lakeshore them had no visible soot; it was as clean as a whistle. Phoenix tsked. “Let’s try another lake”. Together they flew over towards a further lake, and Phoenix blasted another column of wind towards the water. When the fog cleared, it revealed a dark and sooty shoreline.

“Wow, you kids ran pretty far!” Phoenix whistled and flew them towards the water. They quickly landed on the shoreline, away from the water. The moment the boys safely touched down Phoenix sprinted into the water, but were instantly met face to face with the two large bats.

The bats shrieked and barrelled towards Phoenix, who promptly anchored their feet into the ground.

Facing their palms towards the bats, Phoenix whispered “Vincula Glaciem.” Large, icy chains sprung from the waters and wrapped around the bats, dragging them into the water. As soon as the bats disappeared under the surface, they dispersed into hundreds of tiny pink lights again.

They all dove towards the shoreline.

“Phoenix be careful!” Callum screamed, shielding Ezran with the cloak to prevent him from witnessing what would be a horrible ordeal.

Phoenix stood there unfazed. Bringing two fingers together in front of their mouth, they muttered “Igneus Exhalant,” before taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling.

An enormous, fiery flame burst from their mouth, and although the air was misty and moist, the rich and scorching fire cackled as it flew straight into the swarm of glowing orbs.

The swarm was incinerated immediately.

The glowing balls divided in attempt to dodge the impending attacks, but Phoenix separated the two fingers fingers and created two separate flames. Using their fingers are guides, Phoenix carefully aimed the flames to target the balls, making sure not to accidentally set a tree on fire.

Callum stared in awe as he watched dark, charred dots fell from the sky like raindrops. Massive waves of heat washed over him and Ezran, and Ezran poked his head from the cloak. He marveled at the sight.

“Woaah!” Ezran exclaimed, eyes wide with wonder.

“Yeah. Woah is right.” Callum agreed, stretching his hands out to absorb as much heat as he could.

As the last of the pink balls were charred into black, smoky ashes, Phoenix inhaled; causing the flames to disappear and Callum and Ezran shivered at the sudden loss of heat. Phoenix stood in their spot for a few seconds, breathing in and out to even their breath before bringing their hands together out for yet another spell.

“Aquae Divisus Quadrata!” Phoenix cried, separating their arms. The lakewater split into small cubic chunks, creating small gaps of air between them.

“Do you guys wanna take a look?” Phoenix called towards Callum and Ezran. They nodded, and approached the lakebed.

“Be cautious. Keep an eye out for a black or brown fish. Nisa might’ve turned into one.” Phoenix walked between the blobs of water, peering in each one.

Callum and Ezran walked carefully and slowly between the chunks of divided water. They stepped over lakebed debris and droopy underwater plants, and watched as fish darted away from their approaching figures.

“Callum this way. Nisa’s over here.” Ezran tugged on Callum’s sleeve and began to walk towards a large collection of seaweed in one of the water chunks. Callum opened his mouth to question how Ezran knew where Nisa was, but he was too tired to care.

Ezran approached a large clump of seaweed and stuck his hand into it, causing all but one of the fish to swim away. A small, brown minnow like fish swam up to Ezran’s hand and sat in it. Ezran retracted his hand from the water and gently kneeled down to place the fish on the floor. It began to flop around.

Callum started at Ezran before shaking his head. “Ezran, fish can’t live out of water. You’re gonna kill it.” He bent down to return the fish to the water, but Ezran put his hand over Callum’s.

“Watch”

The fish flopped around for a couple of seconds, then stopped. Ezran silently watched the fish, even shuffling back a little.

“Ezran, the fish is gonna die let me-” As Callum moved towards the fish, it grew into a large, familiar black panther.

“Nisa!” Callum and Ezran exclaimed, leaping at the panther. “We thought you were a goner!” Ezran cried, hugging the large cat’s head.

Nisa purred in response and flopped onto its back, licking Ezran’s face. Callum stared at the now exposed wounds on Nisa’s stomach and shoulders. There were deep and bloodied claw marks from the bat’s attacks. They bled a little whenever Nisa moved.

Phoenix joined the trio a few seconds later. “Good job guys! You found Nisa.” They took one look at Nisa and tsked.

“Ooh that looks bad.” Phoenix placed their hands near the wounds. “Yeah these are pretty deep.” They turned towards Nisa with a scowl. “I heard you got trapped in a hunter’s trap. Again. Let me see your paw.”

Nisa growled as they lifted their paw into the air. Although there were no open wounds, the paw was extremely swollen. Phoenix set the paw back down.

“The sky isn’t clear tonight but there’s probably just enough sunlight to get by.” Phoenix sighed and placed their hands onto Nisa’s body.

“Sol Injuriam Sanandum,” Phoenix chanted, the wounds on Nisa’s body glowing orange as they started to close up. With one last chant, Nisa’s injuries closed up. A deep rumble escaped the panther’s throat and it rolled back onto its stomach. As soon as the wounds were healed, Phoenix along with Nisa led the boys back up the trail. By the time the group had set foot onto a gravel path, the sun was fully exposed and masked the nighttime celestial bodies. Phoenix sighed and turned to the boys.

“Well, this is where we part.” They pointed downhill towards a small village at the end of the route. “That village over there can help you find your Aunt. It’s where travellers usually go to stay the night. Nisa will walk you there, in case you can’t find your Aunt.” Callum and Ezran nodded, and unravelled the cloak around their shoulders.

“Thanks for helping us.” Callum said as he handed the cloak back to Phoenix, who tied it around their shoulders.

Phoenix nodded and waved goodbye. They turned around and walked in the opposite direction, never turning back. Nisa hummed and turned towards the village, gesturing towards it.

“Let’s go find Aunt Amaya!” Ezran cheered, walking towards the village. Callum and Ezran walked side by side, while Nisa walked behind them, occasionally glancing around. They walked slowly and quietly, neither of the boys breaking the silence.

When Ezran, Callum and Nisa reached the halfway point to the village, Ezran spoke.

“Thanks for coming to find me. I would’ve been toast if you didn’t.”

“No problem.” Callum replied, puffing his chest. “That’s what a big brother’s supposed to do; but next time you should tell someone where you’re going first.” Callum and Ezran laughed.

“Yep.” Ezran paused.

“You’re the best big brother I could ever have.” He cried, hugging Callum.

Callum froze and wrapped his arms around Ezran. “I’m also the only big brother you have.” He felt fet Ezran sniff into his shoulder.

“Don’t cry Ezran. We’re safe now.” Callum let go and turned to the village. “Let’s go find Aunt Amaya-”

“I’m sorry Callum. I shouldn’t have ran off like that. What if I got us killed?” Ezran sobbed, gripping Callum’s shirt. Callum gently pat the younger brother’s head.

“Don’t be upset Ez. What matters is that we’re alive, and heading home right now. Plus, no one can refuse the call to adventure. Here, I’ll race you to the village. Last one there is a rotten Candle Bat.” Ezran giggled and wiped away a tear.

Callum began the count-down.

“3...” He and Ezran stood side by side.

“2...”

“1...” They eyed each other, grinning.

“Go!”

Ezran and Callum happily raced down towards the village. When they reached the bottom of the hill they spotted Aunt Amaya and sprinted over to her, leaving their worries behind.

Epilogue:

Nisa silently sat on a rooftop and watched as Ezran and Callum hugged an extremely worried soldier. Nisa turned around; they assumed their duty was done. The boys were safe, and now it was time for them to go. As Nisa was about to climb onto to tree, they glanced back and caught Ezran’s eye.

“I trust that this is the person you were looking for.” Nisa softly chirped, glancing at the soldier as she bear hugged Callum.

Ezran grinned and waved. “Sure is! Thank you! Get home safe!”

“You too Ezran. Take care.” Nisa ducked under the roof just before Amaya and Callum turned towards them.

“Who was that?” Amaya signed, scanning the rooftop.

“Just a friend. Nothin’ to worry about it.”

Ezran and Callum climbed onto the horses, and together with Amaya they begin their journey home. The horses eventually approached a fallen tree, and when they jumped over, something poked into Callum’s side. He carefully reached into his pocket, pulling out a small yellow candy. He peeled away the yellow coating and put the caramel coloured drop in his mouth.

He closed his eyes, humming. “Finally on our way home, safe and sound. With a nice candy in my mouth,”

“Sweet.”

.

.

.

.

And yeah this is it

Spells are in Latin because the only canon spells are dark magic spells and Phoenix doesn’t use dark magic spells

Spell Translations since google translate isn’t very reliable. Doesn't mean I am either:

Compactum Cataegis

Compactum: Compact

Cataegis: Hurricane, violent storm

Compact Hurricane; pocket storm lmao

Luceo Caeli

Google translate: I shine the air

Luceo: Be visible, show up; be bright

Caeli: Air, climate

Climate light up; area surrounding one be bright

Ventus Pila

Google translate: Wind ball

Ventus: Wind

Pila: Ball

Wind ball; ball of wind

Ventus Canalis

Google translate: Wind Channel

Ventus: Wind

Canalis: Channel, funnel, pipe, spout

Wind Channel; Funnel of wind

Vincula Glaciem

Google Translate: Chains of Ice

Vincula: Bonds, chains

Glaciem: Ice

Binds of ice; chains of ice

Igneus Exhalant

Google translate:The fiery breath

Igneus: Fiery, ardent (bright)

Exhalant: Exhale, to exhale (breath)

Fierty Breath; Fire (exhaled) breath

Aqua Divisus Quadrata

Google Translate: Water divide squared

Aqua: Water

Divisus: Divide, distinguish, separate or break up

Quadrata: Squared

Water divide into squares

Sol Injuriam Sanandum

Sol: The Sun; sun

injuriam: Injury; wrong offence; sexual assault (?)

Sanandum: Heal

Sun heal the injury

[mortivern]

Vera wanted it to just be the two of us walking back to the shrine, but it didn’t feel right to leave without her if she was going to be playing one of the flutes (another thing Lillie and Kio have in common!). Around sunrise we hitched a ride on the Charizard to Vast Poni Canyon, but it’s such a treacherous path that we had to do the rest on foot. We didn’t make it to the base of the altar until sometime around 3 PM. The sun was still high in the sky. Lillie said that we should wait until the moon had risen to go up to the altar and play the flutes. Vera said that was perfect, because I needed practice. She’s actually a pretty good teacher. More patient than I thought she’d be when laying out the basics. But once she’d laid the groundwork for what she thought I should know, she was demanding and insistent, stopping me mid-song to correct the way I held my hands, my posture, flat notes.

Probably for the best, in any case, that I didn’t play my flute like a complete idiot in front of a legendary Pokemon. Vera and I were sitting on the very topmost steps of the Altar of the Moone looking out over Vast Poni Canyon. I could make out the shapes of the house boats in Seafolk Village, and to the east the snowy shroud of Mount Lanakila. The ocean was all kinds of shades of purple and red and gold, and there was a stiff, cool breeze coming off the waves, and the air smelled like fruit and earth. And in that moment I almost teared up a little! Alola was so beautiful, and in this short amount of time it has really felt like another home to me. The least I could do was try to stand up against something that sought to take its light away.

When night fell I stepped up to the right side of the altar; Lillie climbed over to her pillar on the left. Vera watched from the top of the stairs, her arms folded tight. She had told me not long before she was skeptical that an amateur like me could summon a legendary Pokemon with some crusty old flute, but she still looked worried. Part of her must think it’s true. Lillie and I looked to each other, nodded, and started playing the song we rehearsed. She’s actually super good, and didn’t waver at all while she was playing, unlike me. I was worried I was going to fuck it all up because I’m not some kind of professional. When we finished our performance, the stone pillar began to crumble. A beam of prismatic light shot out of the pillar and illuminated the pools of water on the altar. Lillie’s bag flew up of its own accord; Nebby rose higher and higher into the air until we could no longer make out its figure. A minute later the light shattered, leaving behind a gigantic bat that gleamed with the brightness of the moon. Lunala, I remembered from one of the books in Malie Library. I couldn’t believe it. My shitty flute playing actually summoned one of the deities of Alola. Holy fuck.

The air around us grew thick and still after that. Guzma and Lusamine appeared out of nowhere, landing in a crumpled heap on the stairs near Vera. Lusamine reached her hand out and screamed for us to run, that it was coming this way and we needed to get out of its way. A tremendous pressure filled the air as a hole tore in the sky and a giant black mass of pyramids climbed out of it. Its eyes were shimmering rainbow diamonds. Immediately Necrozma and Lunala charged at one another, streaking across the sky, tangled in combat. They crashed into the shrine, hard, just minutes later. Necrozma had its claws deep into Lunala’s body, and I worried Necrozma was going to kill it until I saw it began to meld its body with Lunala’s. I’ve never seen anything like it. What stood before me was a distinctly bat-like body, equipped with massive and terrible arms on its back, and Necrozma’s multicolored brain-eye thing on its head. It attacked me with no provocation.

Andre leapt forward without me even saying anything, placing himself in between this creature and me. I felt myself tear up a little then, too. I directed him to land a Malicious Moonsault, which seemed to do a chunk of damage. I remembered reading that Lunala was a Psychic and Ghost type, so I figured that Necrozma would have taken on at least one of those types…right? I had no idea what I was fighting. That monster knocked Andre to the edge of the altar and made a mess of most of my team, but we were able to beat it back until it fainted. I was hoping that it would split from Lunala at that point, but it stayed intact and began to sink into a wormhole that had opened up beneath it. When it disappeared, it left behind it a thick purple haze and it was pitch black out. Necrozma had gone, and it had taken the light of Alola and one of its legendary Pokemon with it.

The Ultra Recon Squad people were there, Phyco and Soliera. They were arguing with Lusamine, who had apparently requested their help again. Vera was standing off to the side with Lillie, looking dazed. I was walking over to Lusamine when Soliera called out about my Z-Ring. Said that Necrozma probably came here because I was someone who was able to “wield the power of the light.” When I asked if they meant my Z-Crystals, they said yes, and that someone as capable of handling myself as that should be able to ride their Lunala through Ultra Space to find the world that Necrozma retreated to. They didn’t seem to want to push me to do it, but they didn’t need to—I readily accepted. Vera shouted out “What?!” I told her that I had to, that I didn’t really have an option, that Alola deserved this much. She reminded me that Lusamine’s husband disappeared into a wormhole and was never seen again. I told her it didn’t matter, that this was more important than just me. She told me what a stupid and dangerous idea she thought this was, then stormed off to the other end of the shrine. I donned the same kind of ridiculous-looking outfit that Phyco and Soliera were outfitted in. They summoned their Solgaleo, a huge metal lion, which allowed me to ride on its shoulders. A wormhole parted the air in front of me. I looked down at the Ultra Recon Squad, at Lillie and Lusamine huddled awkwardly together, at Guzma giving me a stupid double thumbs up, and at Vera, who was still standing a ways away from the rest of the group with her back turned. She had a point. This was pretty reckless. But she still could have said goodbye before Solgaleo launched us into the wormhole.

We blasted at incredible speed through these bright tunnels of…light? Space? Time? I’m not really sure. The first time we ended up in one of the “wrong” wormholes was wild. I didn’t realize that there were just like, infinite universes out there? Deserts, beaches, mountains…Lunala dropped us off in a few of them before it built up enough strength and momentum to carry us through to a place called Ultra Megalopolis. Two additional Ultra Recon folks met us there and let us know that Necrozma was brooding on top of the tallest building in the city, and that everyone else in town was hiding in fear. They said something about Necrozma not being whole? That it lost a part of itself sometime in the past, and now lived in constant pain as a result of it? Something about their ancestors having gotten too greedy about the light that Necrozma gave them. I wasn’t sure, but if Necrozma had a piece of itself missing, it would make sense that it would go off in the world searching for itself…destroying things behind it if need be.

I ascended the Megalo Tower, where I saw the Lunala-Necrozma fusion staggering around the tower. All of a sudden its head split open and some sort of crystal came out of its body. I threw my arms up just in time to block my eyes from the intensely bright blast of white light that followed as Necrozma took on an entirely new form in front of me, that of a shimmering dragon with multiple sets of bat-like wings. An aura like the one that surrounded the totems flared around it as it waited for me to approach it in battle. Tesla was up first, hanging on tight with her Focus Sash and returning with a Thunder Wave to help level the playing field a bit more. Next was Andre, who threw a Darkest Lariat at it before it knocked him out. After that were Rosemary and Maxine, who each got in a hit before also falling. I was worried that Necrozma would decimate my team before we could even get it down to half health, but Aria really showed up for us. Using her Foul Play move in conjunction with her Quick Claw, she leveraged Necrozma’s massive attack stat against itself and brought the beast to its knees. It almost seemed to melt off of Lunala, and disappeared into the black void that surrounded Ultra Megalopolis. Lunala began pouring out light, sending it soaring through the wormholes. I hopped on its back and we soared back through space and time to Alola.

Lunala—Nebby?—dropped me off at the Altar of the Moone, then took off in the direction of the rising sun. Vera came bounding over, almost tripping on herself before she pulled me into the tightest hug she’s ever given me. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all. She managed to get out “I wasn’t sure if you were going to make it back. I’m sorry,” before letting me go. Phyco and Soliera said they would stick around Alola, maybe hit up the island challenge themselves, but mostly they wanted to soak up those famous Alola rays as well as explore Z-Moves. Lillie and Lusamine said that they would take Solgaleo back to the Aether Paradise to help nurse it back to health. I was apprehensive as soon as Lusamine said that, but with both Lillie and Gladion there, she shouldn’t be able to do anything like she had before. She reached out her long, elegant fingers and dropped a handful of Beast Balls into our hands. They were specifically developed to help catch the Ultra Beasts, she said. You know, the ones that she set loose in the world by forcing open wormholes that she had no idea what to do with. But moot point. She and Lillie headed out. That left Vera and I at the altar. She kissed my cheek and said I was very stupid but very brave. We started out way down the stairs and back to Vast Poni Canyon to the point where we could pick up Charizard rides again, then flew back to Hapu’s gran’s house. She insisted on feeding us heaps of food and went quickly to work setting up the guest bedroom for us. Vera told Hapu’s gran she’d stay up for a cup of coffee and talk with her a while before hitting the sheets.

I was grateful for the distraction, since I could see gran’s eyes shining with questions. I crawled back to the bedroom and fell immediately asleep. Immediately. People could wait for my stories until I woke up and was sure that I hadn’t dreamed everything that just happened. I’m still not so sure myself. But I hope it was real. That was too awesome not to be.