#emerald blaze spoilers

[tealmaskmybeloved]

I think they'd be friends

For context: Metunn is the unique variant of Unown in the ROMhack Pokémon Blazing Emerald. You find it in the Ancient Alcove, along with a strange journal by a researcher who explores the cavern and finds Metunn. Unfortunately for that researcher, Metunn had been taking over his mind. The researcher sealed Metunn away in the Ancient Alcove so that no one would share his fate. (Didn't work, as we are able to capture it and use it on our team lmao)

(Also Metunn has a BST of 1000 but only knows the move Vol, which is Metronome on steroids.)

Pecharunt is the Gen 9 mythical for Pokémon Scarlet and Violet. If you're like me and know of/enjoy the Toxic Chain Kieran theory, you can see why I decided to draw these two together.

(SPOILERS FOR THE DLC AND MOCHI MAYHEM BELOW)

To summarize, Pecharunt/Dokutaro is the leader of the Loyal 3 and has been implied to be the one responsible for giving them their desires, but also the Loyal 3 are chained to their will. A lot of people, myself included, thought that Kieran would be controlled/influenced by Pecharunt, mirroring the Loyal 3's story. Which is VERY ironic considering that in Mochi Mayhem, literally everyone EXCEPT Kieran gets controlled.

Also both Metunn and Pecharunt are Poison and Ghost type so that's fun :)

I might make an AU where these two and their "friends" (Kieran and the researcher) meet or something. I dunno for sure though.

Lemme know what yall think

[nagichi-boop]

Sonic Disability Headcanons

This’ll be kinda long cuz I want to cover as many characters as possible and I want to include both mental and physical disorders. Spoilers but I made everyone neurodivergent.

Sonic — adhd, Tourettes; chondromalacia patella, chronic migraines (post Frontiers), narcolepsy type 2

Tails — autism, anxiety, cptsd, ocd, morsicatio buccarum (cheek biting); chronic migraines, arthritis (mostly in wrists)

Knuckles — autism, adhd; cfs/me (when away from Master Emerald)

Amy Rose — adhd, bpd; near-sightedness

Shadow — autism, ptsd, cptsd, bpd; unspecified chronic pain (caused by chaos energy, mostly affects knees), cfs/me, chronic migraines, insomnia

Rouge — autism; fibromyalgia, pcos, ibs

Omega — autism

Silver — autism, adhd, anxiety, schizophrenia, chronic motor tic disorder; asthma, pots, eds, fibromyalgia, insomnia

Blaze — autism, ocd, depression, trichotillomania (hair pulling); endometriosis, ibs, lactose intolerance

Cream — autism, anxiety, ptsd; celiac disease, epilepsy

Espio — autism, ocd, ptsd, dpdr; chronic migraines

Vector — autism, adhd; ankylosing spondylitis

Charmy Bee — adhd, dyslexia, dyspraxia, Tourettes; hard of hearing, asthma

Metal Sonic — autism, npd

Sticks — autism, adhd, schizophrenia; eds

Whisper — autism, dyspraxia, depression, ptsd, cptsd; cfs/me, fnd

Tangle — adhd, dyslexia, ptsd; eds, arthritis

Surge — autism, adhd, cptsd, npd, aspd, dpdr; type 1 diabetes (hypoglycaemia), fibromyalgia

Kit — autism, anxiety, depression, dpd, Tourettes, stuttering/stammering; chronic migraines, pots, eds

(I may tweak this as I change my mind or adopt other people’s headcanons, but I wanted to have all my thoughts in one place.)

[astronautmike-dexter]

WIP Wednesday

Ok I love WIP Wednesday bc it actually forces me to write - slay!

This is from an upcoming fic that I have been putting off because it seemed too big and daunting (lol) but the lovely @saiyanmazen challenged me to start, so here it is! This is the start of the prologue (look at me sounding so fancy), so it's not really a spoiler.

---

Bulma Briefs had never given much credence to the fact that she might die. She had faced situations that had brought herself close to death, time and time again, yet never found it to be a certainty. Perhaps the Dragon Balls had clouded her judgment, a constant reminder that her life would be granted a second chance. In doing so, she had never considered the magnitude of pain she might feel. Despite constantly throwing herself into the fires of danger, she never expected it would burn so deeply when met with the consequences.

It didn’t just burn.

It scorched through her, blazing from her chest, her core, through to her extremities, almost tangible, visible, exploding from her, blocking the world in a burst of golden pain.

Or what she expected to be pain.

It hurt for a second, before the heat morphed into the warm comfort of a loving embrace. It was… powerful.

Sound returned to her in cool fragments, trickling into her ears; fists colliding, the roar of energy being blasted and deflected, then a weak grunt, surely too soft to logically be able to hear, yet she heard it all the same. The source seemed familiar. Something in her called out to it.

The warmth around her faded, settling an aching cold into her bones. Dread.

Her eyes started to flutter open. She could just make out the last wisps of golden light fading away into the emerald sky.

There was a deafening thud of something crashing to the ground near her, shaking the terrain. From somewhere above, she heard Goku bellow, his voice cracked and broken with pain.

“Vegeta!”

Her eyes shot open.

[elegantsplendour]

Fire and Storm

Summary: As the Seven Kingdoms hesitated between the Blacks and the Greens, Aemond stood ready to flip the script.

Dance of the Empire inspired one shot.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lannister! reader, mentioned Aegon II Targaryen x Lannister! reader

Note: Hi my dearies, I’m so sorry I haven’t been active in the last month. Transitioning from Montreal to Toronto has been a lot to handle. But the good news is that I got elected as student council vp in my new school🤪. Here is a one shot inspired by my first fic Dance of the Empire (a bit spoiler). I will be back writing all the three fics and will try to update weekly. Thank you all for sticking with me❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: major character death

Tagging my friends :) @qyburnsghost @lovelykhaleesiii @boundlessfantasy @vhagarswar @purple-writer8 @valeska-fics @lexi-anastasia @f4ll-for-you

Within the chilling walls of the seat of House Baratheon, the hearth held a flame that danced rebelliously, threatening to bite those misfortunate enough to find themselves in proximity. Torrential water poured mercilessly from the sky while the wind howled ruthlessly. Sealed by the solid bricks of the castle, the flames, fragile compared to the frightful storm yet unpredictable and dangerous in nature, continued to consume silently.

The silver haired prince sat calmly by the scorching heat, his long fingers brushing against each other. It had been two days since the Lord of Storm’s End pledged allegiance to the prince’s elder brother, called by some the Usurper, in return for a marriage pact between the prince and one of the lord’s daughters. Amidst the looming threat of a deadly civil war, every second counted, but his delay was calculated. Aemond had been waiting silently and patiently for his nephew's arrival, much like a flame waiting to devour its fuel.

A servant knocked by the door, bowed and announced the news. Without a word, he arose from the chair and paced through the solemn hall of the castle with stately ease. The effortless regality exuded from his presence was as if he was on his way of being coronated. A sharp curl appeared on the corner of his thin lips as he recalled his drunken and debauched brother , expecting the Conqueror’s Crown on his head like an infant. With each step Aemond took, he felt himself drawing nearer to his desires: power and her.

Aemond Targaryen wanted everything and was ready to steal, scheme and slaughter.

Unlike his half sister Rhaenyra, the named heir of the late King Viserys, or his brother Aegon, born with the title of the first born son, Aemond Targaryen's life was a battle, a relentless one against a seemingly inescapable destiny of becoming another insignificant Targaryen royal, riding an ordinary dragon, holding a hollow position in court, accompanied by a mediocre noble woman, doomed to be forgotten in history.

However, when his mother suggested betrothing him to the eldest daughter of Tyland Lannister, he was taken aback. Could he, the overlooked second son, really be promised the "Beauty of Casterly Rock" and an alliance with the house guarding mountains of gold? Promises were a strange to the One-Eyed Prince, as he had always been a taker, much like he had claimed the largest dragon in the world. The fleeting memories of the golden lady of emerald eyes all appeared to him a cruel jest. The tender moments of her smiles were overshadowed by her anguished cries upon learning that she had been bartered off to Aemond’s elder brother Aegon, who would rather bury himself between the legs of harlots of the Flea Bottom.

Contained fury blazed in his chest as Aemond watched the young Lucerys Velaryon, his bastard nephew, who had taken his eye eight years ago.

Lucerys conveyed with a trembling voice Rhaenyra’s message to the Lord of Storm’s End. Aemond paid no attention to the words coming out of his mouth. His one violet eye burnt a hole in the quivering messenger. His throat throbbed with thirst for retribution as the flashes of scarlet and black that had blinded his eye when Lucerys’ blade had cut through his flesh.

This rage was tainted with despair, for what he truly desired was taken by his own kin and given to his brother. He soon realized he had nothing left to lose.

With that, as the Lord of Storm’s End dismissed the Velaryon impatiently, the prince’s shadowy figure also disappeared in the hall as he watched Lucerys mounting his pathetic and minuscule dragon Arrax while the storm still raged on.

Soon, the monstrous Vhagar hovered over the young dragon. The lightning tearing through the black sky and roaring of thunder were music to Aemond Targaryen’s ears, as if the gods were in awe of this spectacle of terror. In the face of raw power commanded by the largest dragon of the world, neither Lucerys, Rhaenyra, Aegon, nor even the games of thrones stood a chance. Aemond was the second son who inherits nothing he doesn’t seize for himself. Addicted to the intoxicating scent of the lioness of Casterly Rock and the adrenaline rushing in his veins from being on top of the world, Aemond whispered to the green beast, “Ipradagon.”

Eat

Scarlet blurs flashed before him, followed by a haunting dragon squeal echoed before him with no one but him to bear witness to the gruesome bloodshed. While others might see flesh and dragon bones plummeting from the sky, Aemond saw a vision of the Conqueror’s Crown landing on his head. While his mother, the Dowager Queen, sought to suppress the war, Aemond stroked the anger bubbling in Rhaenyra. And what better way than slaying her favourite son?

War were precisely what he craved; for war breeds to fear, fear spawns to chaos, and chaos is a ladder.

As the Seven Kingdoms hesitated between the Blacks and the Greens, Aemond stood ready to flip the script.

All his life, he had been but a sword wielded at another’s will. At that moment, Aemond Targaryen became the master of his own terror, and the realm would watch a second son rise to rule the continent.

[katlyntheartist]

Knuckle series is out!! Any thoughts? Does it affect your Jojo and Gang au?

Spoilers for the Knuckles series people! Avert your eyes children!

First, let's talk about the things I liked:

- Sonic and Tails were great for as little screen time as they had. And Maddie trying to be patient with Knuckles while also not strangling him was great, haha. As someone who worked at a Daycare, I related to her dealing with kids like Knuckles and Maddie's facial expressions when she was grounding Knuckles were on point. Also THEY HAVE A PLAIN BED FOR TAILS AND A TRUCK BED FOR KNUCKLES AHHHHH!!!!!

-Pachacamac is a Jedi Force ghost? Alright then. I don't know much about this character outside of Sonic X but I thought that he was fine. And Christopher Lloyd does a great job as usual.

-Wade was not terrible. I like how he has some character growth through the series and at the end he isn't a master warrior/fighter. He's still a goofball but now he's thinking things through and using what he has and his current surroundings to his advantage in a fight, and isn't just hiding and waiting for Knuckles to save him. But him breaking out of the cage in episode 4 was a bit ridiculous. What was that cage made of, cardboard? He really should have broken his hand or something.

-I liked the villains but I wish that we got to see them more involved in the story, especially the buyer. Who was menacing for about five minutes and then was crushed to death like, dang 0-0

-NANA WHIPPLE AND KNUCKLES SPINOFF SHOW PLEASE!!

-Knuckles was the best part of the show. He's the strong tough warrior but with a big heart and good intentions, though a bit misguided at times. Idris did a great job, nothing new there.

And now let's get into the things I didn't like:

-The show is %70 Wade bowling story and %30 Knuckles adjusting to earth and his backstory with Pachacamac and his tribe and his connection to the master emerald and everything else that the show should have been about. The Wade sub plot takes up so much time that we don't get to explore Knuckles. I wished that we had gotten to see him learn to appreciate and call Earth his new home instead of him just accepting it at the end. It just felt so rushed.

-Episode four wasn't awful but I didn't care for it. Also you can NOT show us the Flames of Disaster from '06 and not have Silver or Blaze show up. You can't do that >:(

-Knuckles and Maddie didn't get to have a heart to heart conversation which is what I and many others thought that was what the show was building up to. Also he never gets in trouble for running way and we never cut back to seeing Maddie or Sonic and Tails realizing Knuckles is gone, or even Sonic and Tails trying to cover for Knuckles. I get that the CGI was expensive and voice actor and actor schedules might not have worked out for it to happen, but my point still stands.

-Wanda was useless and you could have cut her out and lost nothing. Don't get me wrong, the actress is good but she feels wasted here. Her character is so annoying and serves no purpose other than to be mean to Wade. And why do we have to have the "siblings who hate each other but make up at the end" cliche? I would have liked Wanda more if she was nicer to Wade from the start and if they had a fun sibling bond with each other. Also if she was able to actually use her skills as an FBI agent to at least hold her own against the gang when they attack Nanna Whipple's house. Also the dad needed to be more comedically villainous, he was too generic.

-Like I said the villains here are fine but the Buyer's whole character is to just show up, have a cool robot fight, and die. We don't get to see him be a threat to Knuckles at all, he just appears for the climax and then is offed in a snap. And the two agents were fun but a lot of their dialogue was graining.

-And that leads me to the main problem with the series. The writing. I'm aware that the writers for the main movies didn't work much on this series, except Jeff did do the first episode. Which is why it's the best one. There is no balance between the jokes and the emotional moments. The show is so focused on trying to make you laugh every five minutes that it sacrifices genuine emotional growth for the characters especially for Knuckles. You know, the whole reason for the show existing in the first place. It suffers the same problems that the live action Ton and Jerry movie had, where the main stars weren't allowed to be the main stars of their film. All of the screen time there went to the human characters who weren't interesting or just plain annoying and mean.

And the dialogue for the show teeters back and forth between actually funny/well written and being dangerously close to obnoxious. And kids shows having jokes all the time isn't a problem. Rottmnt and the Lego Movies are both kid properties that fire off a joke every minute but they knew when to cut back and let the emotional moments shine. The jokes in the Knuckles show felt more like they were pandering to four year old's then actually trying to be funny and the emotional moments felt kind of forced.

I don't want to give any of the writers or anyone who worked on this show a hard time. I can see that everyone worked hard and had fun with this. And I had fun too. There were some good moments between Knuckles and Wade and even a few jokes that got me. But the problems I listed above are just to hard for me to ignore. If you liked the Knuckles series then great for you! I'm happy you were able to have a great time! But for me it was just ok.

Not great. But not bad either. 5/10.

Now, about this affecting Jojo and Gang. I think what I'll do is have comic take place a month after the Knuckles series. And use my AU to focus on Knuckles getting accustomed to Earth and learning to call it home. Basically my AU will do what the Knuckles series didn't.

[heavy-swing]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Prompt #13 - Butte

Content Warnings: None

Spoiler Warnings: None

Summary: It's times like these where Aelita thinks she might start to regret her agreement with Chrysocolla: sweating in the sun, having walked halfway across Thanalan looking for some mineral or another. And yet at the same time, there's nowhere she'd rather be.

Check it out below or on Ao3:

Aelita's fur was dripping sweat, which was not terribly surprising after spending all day in the Thanalan sun. She'd worn a wide-brim hat her father had left behind, thinking it might help some, but just being in the outdoor air felt oppressive, like she was a piece of bread baking in an oven.

“Chrys, couldn't we just come back tomorrow? Any longer out here and you're liable to find a puddle next time you turn around.” She said, fanning her face with a hand to little avail.

“Your voyage home is tomorrow, is it not? Certainly you wouldn't have time to hike back out here and still make it back to the port at Vesper Bay, I'd wager.”

She knew that they would already know that the answer was ‘no’, but she was hot enough that it felt like it was worth trying. 

“If you feel strongly, then we can throw in the towel, but I'd like to stick it out a little longer. I've got a good feeling that we're just about to find something really special!”

They were just so excited about these rocks they were looking for that Aelita found it impossible to refuse them. “No, no, we'll keep at it, then.”

The two of them had been digging away at various locations around central Thanalan, and the current site of Aelita’s gradual melting was a small butte near Black Brush Station.

Aelita let out a sigh as she once again hoisted the pickaxe onto her shoulder, readying herself for another swing. She brought the axe down on the rocky outcropping, breaking off a chunk of the crumbling rock and kicking up some dust. She swung again and again, taking more and more of the rock with each one. Before long, she’d fallen into a rhythm, the sound of the axe making contact with the butte marking out a steady beat. On and on it went, up and down, up and down, up and down, putting Aelita in a sort of trance.

Until the axe suddenly made an oddly quiet ‘clink’ sound on contact, which snapped her back to reality. Sounded like it could be what we’re lookin’ for. She dropped the pick to the ground and knelt in the loose rock to get a better look. It appeared to be a moderately sized inclusion of some sort of darker rock, set in the side of the butte. She tried dusting it off with a glove at first, but to little success, but she heard Chrysocolla’s voice in her head: “If you want to observe a potential geological specimen, giving it a rinse with some water is the quickest way! It lets the light get to it and you can see the color more clearly.”

Aelita lightly jogged to where their packs rested, quickly fishing her waterskin out of hers before trotting back. She popped the cap open and slowly began pouring the water onto the mystery rock. The dust melted away, sliding off the rock’s surface like a curtain parting to reveal a performer on stage. As she leaned back in, the blazing sunlight hit the rock’s surface, shining a brilliant green.

“Hey, Chrys.”

Chrysocolla looked up from the tailings they were sifting through. “Mmm?”

“What was it we were looking for again?”

They stood up and walked over to where Aelita was crouched. “Raw emeralds! They’re a crystal with a dark green hue–” They pointed to the crystal that Aelita had just uncovered. “Just like that!” Chrysocolla leapt up to their feet and wrapped Aelita in a very sweaty hug. “I can’t believe we actually found some…”

“Now what?”

“We extract it, of course!”

“I extract it, you mean,” she countered with a laugh, giving them a playful punch to the shoulder.

“Well, uh… I mean…” Chrysocolla began stumbling over their words. It’s just too easy to mess with them.

“I’m just foolin’ with you, Chrys.” If her words didn’t give her away, her trademark sly grin certainly did. “You owe me a cold drink when we get back, though.”

“With the size of that emerald vein, you can have all the cold drinks you like, my friend.”

“All right, all right. Stand back so I can pop this sucker outta there,” Aelita said, lifting the pickaxe overhead. Just a few more swings, and then back to the Quicksand, she thought as she brought it down again.

[therummesoccupied]

IDW SONIC #68 - THOUGHTS

Warning: Spoilers Ahead

This issue was really good! From what I could gather, @spiritsonic was trying some new stuff with her art here, and her hard work really shows! She's always great, but I'm real excited to see what she gives us in the future.

After all the debate, I still do consider the circumstances surrounding this update somewhat unfortunate, but whether it was brought on by (perhaps unnecessarily) harsh criticisms from the community or not, it does look really good, and Evan seems happy with it on her various social media feeds, so I'm happy, too.

Aside from the fantastic art, this issue also had a lot of stuff I've really been wanting from IDW Sonic!

The story features a single Chaos Emerald hunt instead of just nabbing a bunch of 'em at once.

I always prefer this to stuff like Starline just bringing them all to Eggman or the Roboticized Masters collecting them off-page. Placing them one by one over time really helps drive home to me how significant these gems are to this world, and makes them feel like part of the overarching narrative instead of a simple macguffin that can just appear whenever it's convenient for the plot.

I guess what I'm saying is I like the setup phase of Chekhov's Gun just as much as the payoff.

As of this issue, we now know the location of three Emeralds - Rouge grabbed the white one in the 2022 Annual, Tails ended up with the purple one in Winter Jam, and now we've got the yellow one here.

We got some nice exploration of Sonic and Tails' dynamic in this one. It's nothing new, Sonic and Tails are naturally seen together quite a lot in this comic, but they're often in communication with other characters working toward a greater goal, or trying to solve some kind of crisis. They're after the Emerald here, but there's no great catastrophe and it's just them... spending time together. They get competitive, they banter, they pick up where the other falters - it's a really great reflection of the strong relationship Sonic points out between Silver and Blaze in Issue 64.

They get lots of little moments in this story, but I especially appreciate this one:

It's a small thing, but I think this is the first time in the comic's 5+ year run that Sonic has referred to Tails as his "little brother." When you think about it, these two really have spent most of their lives together, and this is a nice reminder of that.

What I really appreciate most in this issue, though, is the

🫒Environments.🫒

I've always felt that IDW Sonic's world was a little... homogenous, without a lot of the beautiful, fantastical scenery we see in the games.

Even when we DID get cool set pieces, they were usually direct references to the games - not a lot of spectacular, new settings made to fit the games' world.

But this one had a cool ravine with weird hexagonal pillars and old bridges for Sonic and Tails to race through!

That looked like it could be a game level! Then they get into the cave and we get this cool, glowing, underground green world with a giant salamander stalking around - this is also a really neat way of hinting at how the Emeralds affect the environment around them!

I know it's gonna be a while before we return back to the main series - the Fang the Hunter mini-series does seem fun, though - but I'm really, really excited to see where it takes us next!

[reploidbuddy]

Now that the character designs are back up in Welcome Aboard the Maria and the first 2 chapters of At Hope’s end, here’s part two of the art that was inside the fic B)

Here is the Emerald art that was scattered across the fic once they found the emerald featured inside it!

While I'm at it though I think I'll explain them a bit further because they are a Concept™. Basically I wanted each crewmate to be "attached" to the Emerald that represented them most or ended up being the Emerald where they have a very important moment/issue happen.

So uuuh I'll put the reasons under a cut since it's highkey spoilers, I just feel like gushing about them fjbdjc

Amy’s gets the first green one because if it wasn’t on her card reading, positive interaction with Megs and her "can we keep him" attitude, they wouldn’t have thought of bringing him along and that would have changed everything I won't lie.

Tails gets the clear one because it's the first that was found with his Emerald Tracker, and it's honestly their best tool throughout the entire story.

Shadow gets the fake/dark/cursed emerald due to his stop-at-nothing attitude towards getting them, which has blinded him more than once, but especially in this case since it's the only time he’s ever brushed off Amy’s readings.

Rouge gets the yellow since while they're hunting for it and Shadow’s bedridden, it’s the first time she realized that getting her share of the treasures left a bittersweet taste in her mouth with the thought she might have to be the captain. Also that she was willing to finish his quest for him.

...I don’t think Knuckles’ needs an explanation considering his entire arc with Silver :p

Sonic gets the dark blue since it’s the one they find in Soleanna and he's the entire reason they're there in the first place, and his willingness to help Elise (while respecting his own boundaries) is what allows them to get the Emerald in the end. Took off his ring finger there metaphorically because he does NOT want to marry, he has all his fingers in the story fjdncn

Blaze gets the light blue because it’s during that time that she has to make a very important decision with her principles vs helping Shadow and it’s generally the Emerald that brought the most turmoil in her

Omega’s red because he makes his very first completely irrational decision and shows he cares a lot through it

And Silver gets the purple because it’s when he truly started to understand what his powers were about after his talk with Knuckles, and it’s thanks to this that they had close calls with Gaia’s Shadow instead of just straight up dying like 5 times (and the turquoise star under him represents what all this allowed him to do with Knuckles during the climax <3 a bright turquoise star) Kinda fun that the first crewmate Shadow and Rouge meets ends up being the last one to have his Big Moment™ that was an accident but a happy one

I kept them all in their og outfits because I didn’t want a "cut" between them but didn't want to spoil the (then undesigned lmao) future outfits

[irafuwas]

The Enemy Summary: Lilia did not call the child "Silver" because of the lunar gleam of his hair or the starlight in his eyes. No, he chose the name out of spite. Content Warnings: Depictions of violence against a child, strangulation, blood, expletives, book 7 spoilers Pairings: None Length: 3.8k (Header artwork from here)

You can either read it after the cut or on AO3!

The princess’s death struck the nation like a meteor. The Knight of Dawn had killed her, contemptuously, brazenly, at what was meant to be a peace conference. Before the fae could even draw their swords, he and his troops had scattered like a bevy of doves into the golden light of daybreak. Most of the congregation rushed to gather around their sovereign’s limp body, but not Lilia. He stood at the window, staring at the backs of the retreating soldiers, transfixed by the reflection of the sun blazing in their iron armor, a yellow blot in a sea of white fire. It looked to him like an evil eye.

Dazed by the hot stupor of his great injury, Lilia hunted down the man and killed him. And then he killed the man’s wife, and then the chambermaids and the kitchen staff and the guardsmen and the stewards. He executed them impulsively; their bodies fell before him like heavy ragdolls slumping to the ground.

The glint of his blade was a bright smudge in the darkness of the castle that night. It moved through the air like an emerald wraith – at times languidly, at times striking faster than an adder. For those who’d sought refuge in the pitch-black shadows of the underground passageways, its viridity was the last thing – the only thing – they saw before it pierced them.

His path was methodical.

He stalked from room to room, listening for stifled breaths and choked back sobs, tearing apart every quivering shadow and wrenching open every closed door. He found the pageboys cowering together in one of the storerooms, their small faces shining white with a vicious fear. He told them to run, and they did. They fled crudely, tripping over the hardstone floor and entangling their wiry colt limbs into each other as they stumbled down the halls.

He waited until they left before moving on to the final room. He’d overlooked it earlier; the door was concealed within the tall bookcases that lined the knight’s bedchambers, and he’d only noticed it after one of the maids had left it ajar as she fled. He flung open the door apathetically and marched inside, scanning the room for any sign of life. A wooden object in the corner caught his eye, and a sharp unease pooled in his stomach once he realized it was a cradle.

When he peered inside it, a baby with eyes the color of the aurora peered back up at him. He had seen those eyes before, staring down at him triumphantly as a sword plunged through his sister’s chest, staring up at him from the pale face of a corpse lying in a pool of blood in the adjacent room. And now those same eyes blinked at him dully, as though he were the source of all the light in the world.

He didn’t know the Knight of Dawn had already sired an heir. No one did. He placed a weary hand on the cradle and rocked it absentmindedly as he thought. He easily could’ve walked away, could’ve turned around and left that rotting pit behind him and reemerged into the night’s black embrace, could’ve gone on to live the rest of his life wallowing in the murky waters of his deep grief. And he should have. But he knew, with a firm surety that scared even him, that his grieving peoples would soon come to claim the boy - long before the first light of dawn could reach down its shining hands and begin to soothe their wounded nation.

Lilia’s hesitation possessed him. His gaze flew between the cradle and the door and back to the cradle again. He reached down and gripped the baby’s throat. He stood there, dazed, unable to tell if he was fighting the urge to complete the act or the urge to let go. The muscles of his forearm bulged and tensed, writhing like pale snakes underneath his skin. When the child smiled at him, he ripped his arm away as though he’d been electrocuted.

After a final moment of trepidation, he plunged his arms back into the cradle. His hands had torn that castle asunder mere moments ago, and now they trembled quietly as they pressed the heavy head into the warmth of his chest.

The night held its breath as he left that place. The only witnesses to his transgression, the somber oak trees surrounding that land and the black-eyed creatures concealed in their lofty boughs, watched him silently. He tried to ignore their expectant gazes, but they dug into his skin like daggers as he raced back to camp with the child in his arms.

Later, when he stood with Baul in the heavy heat of their tent and confessed what he’d done - and what he had failed to do - the man nearly exploded.

His barrel chest swelled in contempt. His face flushed hot with a venomous rage. He loomed over Lilia as massive as a grizzly bear, his thin lips pulled back into a snarl, the whites of his eyes blazing like spotlights out of his ashen face.

“Are you fucking insane!?” he roared. “That… That thing is that bastard’s son! It’s the enemy!”

“Baul, I can’t kill a baby,” Lilia croaked.

Baul scoffed. “So you can slaughter a whole castle full of people, but a baby’s too much for the Great General Vanrouge, huh?”

Lilia looked away, and Baul continued, aggrieved, “Fine. If you won’t do it, then I will.” He tightened his grip around his halberd, and the wooden staff groaned in his hand. He dipped the axe head towards the baby sleeping in Lilia’s arms.

“No!” Lilia yelled, taking a step back. “Please, just… just give me some time… A decade. Give me a decade, and then I’ll do it, I’ll kill him.” He licked the cold sweat running down his lips, his eyes flicking between the glowering man and the axe hovering before him. The cold metal shimmered threateningly in the dim candlelight.

“Sure you will,” Baul spat, retracting his weapon. “Sure you fucking will.” He stormed out of the tent, muttering angrily as he threw back the tarp with a growl. The stifling air evaporated with his departure, and Lilia took a deep, shuddering breath. He looked down at the child and sighed.

When Lilia returned to the castle town, he discovered that Baul had revealed his great failure to the rest of the world. In the wake of their general’s betrayal, he and the other guardsmen had ransacked Lilia’s room in the barracks, carelessly strewing his meagre belongings before the castle as though they were garbage. Lilia found the blanket from his cot entangled in the branches of one of the courtyard trees, fluttering sadly in the gentle spring wind. He dislodged it and wrapped it around his body, using it as a makeshift sling for the child.  

None of the guards, not even Baul, came out to speak with him. They didn’t need to – he already knew their judgement was final. He stooped over as he gathered the rest of his items, weighed down not by the tiny infant strapped to his back, but by the enormity of his decision, of his failure. Here was the home he’d spent the last three hundred years of his life defending, here was the honor and prestige he’d finally won for himself after centuries of flawless servitude and thankless atrocities, the only family and friends he had ever known – would ever know. He understood that he was a traitor, a fool, but his inanity was far overshadowed by his revulsion at what they demanded from him.

He looked up at the castle one last time, craning his head back, trying to memorize every jagged stone and turret and tower, trying to memorize the curve of the windows, the green of the flags flapping weakly in the breeze and the faded grey of the ancient masonry. He stood there until the strained muscles in his neck begged him to stop. And then he turned around and left.

His legs carried him unbidden to the edge of the forest surrounding the castle town, where he found a small house hidden in its verdant shadows. The walls were rotted, and the roof lay sunken under a tangled mass of vines and moss. He couldn’t tell whether humans or fae or wild beasts had last lived there; he only knew he was too tired and too apathetic to continue his search elsewhere.

The first night in that house, they slept on the floor. The child dozed soundly, but Lilia could not sleep. He stared at the stars peeking through the holes in the roof, counting each pin prick of light until his eyes burned. As the black-blue sky began to fade, he realized with a start that he didn’t know what the boy’s name was. He raked his exhausted brain for something – anything – he could call him over the next ten years. The answer struck him like a bolt of lightning.

Silver. It wasn’t a name; it was an utterance. Two syllables that weighed heavy in his mouth like poison - air that passed between his lips and nothing more. It was a word he’d hiss on nights when the mist lay heavy over the forest and his mind would sink into the quicksand of old memories he wished desperately to forget, when he’d dream of his sister’s face, pale and drained of blood, her mouth frozen open in a scream that would never come out. The Silver Owl had tainted his heart the darkest black, and this was his chance to finally rid himself of their scourge forever.

From then on, Lilia kept the boy at a distance. He fed him and bathed him and clothed him mechanically, moving most days like a puppet on strings. He tolerated being called “Father”, but staunchly refused any concessions beyond that. His anger was a bulwark against the child’s affections.

Only during the winter would Lilia let the boy sleep next to him. The small body would shiver offensively at his side, interrupting his faded dreams, and he would groan and tuck the thin creature against himself before falling back into an uncomfortable sleep. He would push the child away as soon as he awoke the next morning, repulsed, as though the thing clinging to him were a disease.

It wasn’t just the boy’s neediness that vexed him. Lilia hated everything about him, hated his shy half-smile and his crescent-eyed laugh, hated how the walls around his heart he’d spent so many long years carefully constructing would groan under the terrible weight of the boy’s love. But what disturbed Lilia the most was his eyes. Many of the valley residents were dumbstruck by them – they’d murmur how, on the night of his birth, Nature surely must have plucked the northern lights from the sky and pressed their iridescent glow into his supple skin. But Lilia only saw evil in their lunar beauty. And he watched, incredulously, as the boy grew older, stronger, the infantile roundness of his face hardening around the angle of his jaw, watched the back straighten, the eyes narrow, the smile broaden, watched the child melt away and the visage of his sister’s murderer slowly and steadily emerge in its place. Some days he felt suffocated, like every inch of that small cottage was tyrannized by the boy’s meagre presence. The only thing that stilled his hand was the child’s youth. He could not kill him yet.

The days were long, but the years whipped past him like a tempest. The hot coals of his anger gradually cooled to a tepid warmth, and Lilia at last conceded to the child’s innocence. He wore the clumsily made daisy crowns and ate the burnt and misshapen cookies, he no longer denied the pleas for one more race across the meadow and one more story, accepted the tiny hand that groped across the bed for his own on cold nights when their breath hung above them like fog.

A year before his tenth birthday, Lilia began taking the boy with him on his evening walks. As they padded through the darkness of the hushed forest, Lilia would teach him the names of all the wildflowers and the trees, of the prying creatures observing them from the black shadows, of every star and moon and planet that peered down at their upturned faces. One night, emboldened by his newfound knowledge, the child thrust a single, bony finger into the air and betrayed where the North Star had concealed itself in an ocean of shimmering lights. Lilia looked up. But his gaze did not follow the line of the boy’s indication, beyond to the heavenly body shining above. No, his eyes rested on that tiny, outstretched hand. In that moment, Lilia finally understood that he loved the child.

The realization that he had surrendered his heart to his oppressor, to his enemy – to the hand that’d been gripped around his throat for the past ten years and had torn his beating heart right out of his chest – paralyzed him. (Oh, but what is a decade of pure torment to eyes of liquid moonlight! What is a man – shriveled up and broken, stupefied by his hatred and rendered ignorant by his grief – in the face of pure love!)

He tried, in vain, to suppress his burgeoning feelings with the heavy mass of his anger, but his love would burst open the fortifications of his heart time and time again, threatening to drown him in its raging waters. He fought back against it the same way he had been the past decade - with his ignorance. But as the child’s tenth birthday rapidly approached, he found that for the first time, he no longer took solace in counting down the days.

Lilia awoke the child shortly after midnight. He tugged on the boy’s arms until he finally sat up, grumbling as he rubbed at his tired eyes, only dimly aware of the world around him. Lilia sighed. He dressed the boy impatiently, his fingers trembling as he fussed with the lacing on the small tunic. While he worked, his eyes darted between his sword hanging on a nearby wall and the child sitting slumped over in front of him. He decided against taking it.

He led the child outside into the balmy spring air. The heat prickled at his skin. He inhaled deeply, forcing out the tension gripping his body as he exhaled. Somewhere in the distance, an owl let out a plaintive call, and a nightingale began its serenade in reply. The moon was a shining pearl overhead. Lilia could not bring himself to look at her face, didn’t dare defile her perfect visage with his great shame. He turned and stepped down the dirt path leading away from their home, and the boy followed.

The forest watched disdainfully as the man and the young child walked deeper and deeper into its bowels. Once, the boy asked where they were going, but Lilia did not answer. He felt too shy to speak again, and they spent the rest of the journey weighed down by a pregnant silence.

When they came to a glade, Lilia finally stopped. He turned around slowly, like a cornered beast reluctant to face its hunter.

The boy’s eyes – the enemy’s eyes – reflected the moonlight. The evil shone dimly in their argent depths.

Lilia lunged at him like a panther.

“Fath-!”

They slammed into the ground with the force of a hurricane. The boy cried out as his back struck the earth, pain shooting up his body like shards of ice. He lay there stunned. He could not understand what had just hit him. It had looked like a black storm, impenetrable and overwhelming. His mind blankly refused to reveal its identity to him. But he knew it could not have been his father that struck him, and he knew it could not be his father now pressing those cold hands around his throat and staring down at him with eyes the color of blood.

Not once in his life had the boy ever known fear. He had always ignored it, looked past it, content with the knowledge that his father would always be there to protect him from its ploys. Anything that scared him, anything that invited unease into his stomach or agitation into his heart, was dispelled in the comfort of the man’s steady presence. But now his father was the thing itself. An animal panic gripped his body, his eyes blew wide open like a spooked horse.

They wrestled. He tried wrenching the arms away from his throat, but the bony limbs felt like rods of iron under his hands. He clawed and pounded at the man’s chest, his mind racing as tried to remember every movement, every self-defense technique his father had ever taught him. When the whirlpool of his thoughts stilled for a split second, he ripped from its calm waters the lone memory he’d been desperately searching for. The boy hooked one hand over his father’s wrist and gripped the other one higher up his arm, around his elbow. He kicked a leg free and swung his foot over his father’s ankle. The hands tightened around his throat. The world blackened before him; his lungs begged for oxygen. Using the last bit of his strength, he bucked his hips and rolled over, bringing Lilia underneath him. The hands at last released their grip; he was free.

He shot away from his father like a bullet. He scrambled to his feet and feverishly gulped in the warm spring air until his lungs burned. He took a trembling step forward, trying to flee, but Lilia was upon him in an instant. The man wrapped his arms around the heaving chest and threw the child back to the ground, crashing into him as they fell. The boy writhed frantically in the cage of his father’s arms, almost slipping free, but Lilia shoved him flat on his back with a snarl. He crawled atop the boy, straddling him once more.

The child fought back feebly. His hands pawed against Lilia’s arms, his face, anything solid his trembling fingers could grab onto. Lilia swatted away the flailing limbs, trapping the boy’s arms in one hand and seizing his throat with the other. The child’s screams contorted into a panicked screech as white stars exploded before his eyes. He kicked up his legs and thrust his knees into Lilia’s back, but the man was immovable, his arms and legs pinning him down as heavy as pythons.

Lilia’s hand tightened around the thin neck; the child’s heartbeat pounded against his palm like a thunderstorm. The boy’s flesh melted underneath his fingertips as soft as dough. He squeezed until the eyes began to burst from their sockets, until blood seeped into their auroral haze and foam spilled from his half-parted lips.

The seconds passed by in an eternity. At last, the child’s body stilled, his gasps terminating with a final, strangled sob. Lilia released the neck slowly, marveling at the purple-black splotches blooming across the skin, the imprint of his hand stark against the ivory flesh. He closed his eyes and panted, exhausted.

He sat there, waiting. For a decade he had envisioned this moment, had clung to it like a promise of salvation, had dreamed of the pure relief that would wash over his body and befree him from the prison of his immovable grief. He waited, but it did not come. The enemy was gone, yes. But with it fled the black shadow of Lilia’s anger that had obscured the child from him all his life. He looked down. His eyes flew open in shock. For the first time in a decade, the first time since he peered down into that cradle all those years ago, he finally saw the boy. He finally saw Silver.

“Silver!” he gasped, recoiling, as though the name burned him. He threw himself off the body and crawled away from it on his hands and knees. He pulled himself up against a tree and doubled over as he began to vomit. It felt like this was the pure poison of his rage leaving him - like a decade of repressed anger was erupting from his body all at once, pouring out of his throat and his nose in a scalding torrent of acrid bile, burning his eyes, his lips, his tongue. He stood there heaving until his knees gave way, collapsing into the ground with a mutilated groan. As he rubbed his raw throat, he suddenly remembered the boy.

He whipped his head around in a panic and found Silver lying motionless where he’d left him. Lilia staggered over to him. The few meters between them seemed to stretch on for miles, and he tripped and stumbled as he clawed his way across that great divide, falling to his knees once he finally reached him. He cradled the limp body in his trembling arms. He kissed the boy’s eyes, his cheeks, his forehead, his lips slipping weakly across the wet mess of tears and blood. He pressed his face into the silken hair, filthy with dirt and grime from the forest floor, breathed in his soft lavender scent, drowned in the milky white flesh, ice cold against his own feverous skin. He nuzzled his face into the crook of the boy’s neck, choking back a sob as he felt a faint pulse throbbing weakly under him.

Silver’s mind reentered the world conscious only of the sharp pain in his throat and his father’s white face hovering above him. He stared at his father, and for the first time in his short life, the man did not look away. The eyes that had long haunted Lilia, had aggrieved him and insulted him, finally revealed to him their beauty. They were bloodshot and swollen, the skin underneath enflamed with irritation, but they were more resplendent to him than any gemstone.

Silver swallowed weakly and opened his mouth to talk, but Lilia shushed him with a shake of his head. As he gazed at the boy, a faint memory flashed before his eyes – he remembered the heavy head pressed into his chest, the limp neck resting in his hand, the wet mouth opened in a gasp, the shining eyes boring into him silently. Lilia shivered violently. Yes, it was just like that night, all those years ago. The days-old babe he’d stolen from that cradle was in his arms once more, born anew before him.

As he embraced the child, he decided that he would try to do better, to be better. He would try, falteringly, with the desperation of a marked man begging for a pardon, to rectify the decade of his ignorance.

He would try until it no longer hurt him to speak his son’s name.

[randomcomicsyer]

Whispered words concealed beneath cynical appearances.

P.s. a little sprinkle of Nightbringer Satan in here but not too much for a spoiler xd

"How do you feel about your birth?" you asked Satan, finding him in a moment of tranquility within his room.

Your words echoed through the silent room, drawing Satan's attention from the book he was engrossed in. The sound of a page flipping faded as he turned his gaze towards you. His peaceful emerald eyes met yours, conveying a sense of calm. With his book held loosely in his hand, he began to speak, his voice serene and measured.

"I came into being without choice, born from the searing blaze of someone else's anger. The intensity of that fury coursed through my veins, leaving an indelible mark on my very essence." A silence enveloped the room, allowing his words to resonate and find their place. It was clear that discussing this topic openly was a privilege he reserved for your ears alone. "It feels like an unseen burden that weighs me down. Every breath I take is tinged with the smouldering heat of resentment. The weight of it presses upon my chest, a constant reminder of my origin."

[the-blaze-empress]

galacticlance -> the-blaze-empress

Hello and welcome! this is my blog!!

I am Teg or Milo, and mostly I write fics! I also cosplay, and very occasionally do art! and i regularly go insane about my interests

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[indigo-ghost-girl]

Partial spoilers for Sonic Frontiers

Part 1

Part 3

During Sonic’s final battle with the end, just as super sonic boosts at it at top speed, it suddenly realizes that: This mortal, who has fought gods and won, who successfully took down three of the four titans that sealed it away, who fought to the bitter end it save his friends only to come back and stand against it as his ancient ancestors had: was zooming right towards it, faster than any creature or machine that had ever dared to face it. Radiating an intense golden power, dim in comparison to its own, yet undeniably powerful. That same power the ancient race had used to run away from it, so far and so fast it took a hundred years to catch up with them. The same power that had kept it trapped for eons inside cyberspace.

It never thought it could come to understand the pitiful emotions of mere mortals. The screams of terror and pain that spewed from their mouths like squeaking ants. Yet in that moment, a calculated pang of something it could only classify as fear shot through it.

Perhaps it was the end. The end of the end. It could almost laugh at the irony… That tiny little mortal had been far stronger than it had first believed him to be.

Unless…

The golden mortal before it was strong, stronger than it could have ever fathomed, even after it had seen his triumph over cyberspace. Escaping it even after fully succumbing to it. He had defeated Gods… from his world. He was a young mortal, fifteen years in age. In time, his strength would inevitably multiply…

He would be exemplary.

Come closer little mortal, perhaps you can continue to serve my will further.

Sonic clenched his fists tighter as he soared through space like a shooting star. Everything he loved and cared for was riding on this one shot at survival.  

His friends had sacrificed their freedom just to free him, he wouldn’t fail them again. He couldn’t. Amy still had to see the world! Knuckles still had his own life to live! Get off that old floating rock. Tails was continuing to grow into his own person! His own kind of hero!

They had all trusted him with all their hearts and minds.

And planet below him, full of people who might not even know what was happening in the sky above them. Half of them probably asleep! Each one of them, had the potential to grow and change for the better. And sage, that little ai girl that had grown into her own caring person despite the circumstances of her creation. She still had to go back to her father, maybe her influence on him could do some good in the long run. For everyone.

Sonic refused to back down now. Refused to let himself fear that giant purple moon he was pelting towards. The vast rocky purple landscape came rushing up the greet him. Craters made by the ancients attempts to drive it away countless of years ago, forever scarred into its surface.

He gritted his teeth and ploughed into its surface, straight into the heart of one of the craters. His fists tore way at the rock, drilling through the power infused rock. He planned to drive it clean through like he had the first titan.

He was well into it when he heard it speak. “Your arrogance has been your downfall.”

Suddenly, a great power forced itself onto him. It suffocated the chaos energy sparking around his body. It struggled for a moment against the energy of the emeralds. The hedgehog flickered a blue for a moment before blazing a golden yellow again. “Nice try,” he mocked. Sonic shook his head and pushed forward into the planet. The further he got, the worse it became. Super Sonics speed faltered and slowed. The closer he got to the centre of it, the stronger the force became.

“Sonic!” called the panicked voice of Sage after him. The hyper intelligent ai could tell something was off. That didn’t make Sonic too confident.

A wave of unfathomable pressure burst down on him again. His Golden quills snapped blue, then gold, then blue. Sonic let out a burst of chaos energy, fighting back its domain once more.

“You wanna try that again?” Sonic shouted, punching the stone of its form faster and harder.

“You tricked me into freeing you!” he yelled, “You put all of my friends in danger!” He curled into a ball and dug into the purple rock, faster than ever before. “You destroyed so many lives! So many people that could have lived long and happy. I won’t let you hurt anymore!”

Finally, Sonic could tell its power was wavering. It seemed to be giving up.

With a newfound vigor, Sonic tore through its form, passing through its core and bursting through to the other side. The sight of the starry sky let a flow of relief and triumph surge through Sonic. A short sigh heaved from him as he turned to see if he had finished it off, a ghost of a smirk on his face.

A deadly silence followed. No explosions, no cracks. No retorts or high and mighty speeches.

Instead, the purple faded and it dissolved, fizzling into purple and red dust. Sonic huffed in a sigh. Had he done it?

A voice called to him. “Sonic!” Sage shrieked, “Get away!”

The purple dust suddenly warped and span. A spherical hurricane of space debree and power.

Sonic turned to put some space between him and it. The space dust jumped on him. He brought up a hand to shield his face. Super Sonic glared about the hurricane. The red lightning zapped among the clouds of sparkling mist. He boldly dashed at the wall of the hurricane. A loud screeching filled his ears as his body hit the wall. It was a grating sound like that of nails on chalkboard. He was flung back into the center against the winds of the swirling void.

“You may have destroyed my form, mortal. however,” came the deep rumbling voice from all around him, “I have found fresh form to take.”

“Oh yeah? And what form is that?” Super Sonic questioned loudly into the cloud, eyes flickering around in panic.

“Yours.”

…

Sage zoomed up to the cloud in panic, just milliseconds after the cloud had engulfed the super hedgehog.

“NO!” she had shouted. Razing the balled fist of the titan, she stuck the wall of dust. A great grinding made the ai pull back the titans hand. She looked over to see the ground remained of the titans two fingers and thumb, a stub.

The ai, not knowing what else to do, ran as many simulations, she could as fast as possible. The first one she ran gave her a terrible red and purple image. It made her fear for the life of her father. Those two together would be far too strong to stand against with the limited resources the planet had.

She ran more and more simulations, taking even the smallest odds into consideration. No, her father’s technology would stand no chance. The ancient’s technology couldn’t be used much either. Even throwing the arch at it would do nothing. She was starting to panic now.

No matter how many she ran the odds seemed hopeless. How much time did she have to figure something out? How long could he reject it? Sonic was so unpredictable it was difficult to hypothesise about. He was always so impulsive.

In an uncalculated moment of impulse, Sage pulled out the titans gun. She recklessly poured her energy into the blast, the bright blue light shining brighter and brighter in the barrel. With a point of her finger the blast shot from the gun. It hit the ball of energy with a zap.

The energy of the gun hummed and fizzed through the air as Sage struggled to maintain the intensity of the beam. The dust zapped and whirred but otherwise wasn’t fazed by the blast.

Sage eventually felt herself began to run dangerously low on energy. She had to stop before something critical happened to her system.

She frowned to herself as the beam fizzled out.

Sage resorted to the last thing she could think of. As much as it hurt her to go against her fathers orders, she had to start simulating sanarios with Sonic and his friends or he would be doomed.

In milliseconds she took to examining what of Sonics memories had made it into cyberspace.

Millions of new options opened to her. Unfortunately, many of them included the chaos emeralds, something she didn’t have access to as the moment. Finally, after several aching seconds of simulations she found a few that just might work. The chances were low and there was no guarantee the everyone would survive but the world would live.

She moved to fly below the now shrinking cloud. If the odds where in her favour at first, she could increase the odds immensely.

[lbfromtheblock]

Never Gonna Give You Up | Sylki Season 2 Finale Fix-It (Kinda) Fic

(spoilers for season 2 finale)

I NEEDED to get this off my chest after seeing the finale.

I understand why what happened had to happen. But I wanted some confirmation first. So this is me making my peace with it.

Enjoy.

Loki looked into her blazing emerald eyes again. The hate, the suffering, the pain, the betrayal. His arms shook from the effort needed to hold back her arm and the blade she held. Bloodthirsty and vengeful, she’d honestly never looked more beautiful. And he’d never felt more sorry for her.

-“So do it then. Get your throne. KILL ME!” Sylvie spat in his face, her eyes brimming with tears, anticipating what to her would be the last, most painful betrayal her heart could take. But even as she said it, she could see the resignation in this Loki’s face, where a second ago there had been panicked but palpable affection, and shared pain. He had just wanted her to be free of this pain, and wanted her to find her freedom with him.

But now his jaw was set. He was strong, sure, but she was stronger, wilier. She knew his weaknesses inside and out. Her eyes darted back and forth, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. Keep them from making her seem weak.

“Sylvie. I should have told you this ages ago but… I love you. I can heal your pain, I can take it all away. You don’t have to do this.”

His voice was warm and sincere, like liquid honey dripping. He was wily too. He knew what spots to poke. But even as her anger surged at this new attempt to manipulate her emotions, it also quailed from the touch of his hand on her cheek. Maybe…

“I have been where you stand. I know and can say for a fact that you will not find peace here. Trust me. Believe in me, and I can show you. Put down your sword. Come with me.”

His voice shook, and tears slid unabashedly down his own face now. Seeing him so vulnerable and shockingly honest made her pause. Her arm dropped a few millimeters. Her skin burned under his touch. He didn’t pull away. Neither did she.

He Who Remains behind them raised an eyebrow. This was new.

“Tell me. Give me a reason to stop. Because right now I don’t have any.”

Loki kept her gaze and leaned close until their foreheads touched. He could smell her, that familiar scent of sweat and metal and roses…she’d replaced it with some discount store soap and perfume in their current timeline. It had taken some of the ferocity away. But now, like this, at the height of her anger…it smelled like home.

And so strange all at once.

He sent her images. Pictures and snippets of what was to come. The spaghettification of all timelines if she succeeded, the pain and suffering she would cause…

But also the life she could lead if given the chance.

It was still McDonald’s. Still mundane. Almost normal. But now she came home to him. She could summon him whenever she wanted and he would be there waiting. They would spend nights in front of the tv, eating horrible food and laughing, laughing…The pure joy on his face when she brought home a stray puppy, and named him Thor…

Startled by her own moist giggles, Sylvie finally opened her eyes. He stared back, searchingly, hopefully. Like a little boy on Christmas morning.

“You can’t promise me this.” Her hands slowly curled into fists. It was so unfair. She wanted ALL of that so badly, almost more than she wanted to kill He Who Remains. Almost.

“I can. And I am. Please, Sylvie. We can be together. Just walk away.”

Loki didn’t even bat an eye as she reached in to kiss him, just like last time. He pulled her close, held her, felt every inch of her body against his, as closr as he possibly could, nostrils full of that final scent…her hair brushing against his face…

With a deft spin, he was on his back on the floor, and she was across the hall, blade already buried deep into He Who Must Not Remains. A startled gasp, but his face had a sudden twitch of satisfaction before it went slack.

Loki covered his face, wiped the newest cascade of tears from his cheeks. Pushed back his hair and sniffed in defeat. Steeling himself for what came next.

He turned, about to go back and try again, but before he could, he locked eyes with her one last time.

It was always the same. No satisfaction, no triumph. Just emptiness. A sadness. She never forgave him. She never allowed herself to just love him.

In any timeline.

But he couldn’t stop trying. He would keep trying. He had to. There had to be a way.

“You’ve tried violence and you’ve tried love. I wonder how long it will take you to realize the bottleneckedness of the situation.”

He Who Remains quipped, back in a seated position, very much alive in his chair behind his desk. Loki looked at him balefully.

“This isn’t like the fairy tales, champ. Think outside the box.”

Loki smirked, paused time and looked to Sylvie, mid leap.

“Mm. Maybe when I get tired of holding her. I’ll try something else. Until then…just relax and enjoy the show.”

And with a flick, he unpaused time, and went to his beloved once again, arms outstretched.

I’ll never give up on you.

…in any timeline.

[playertwotails]

I've been super busy lately with a work schedule change, family getting surgery (they're fine now), and a foster puppy but I'm finally gonna talk about issue 58.

Adding a cut because it gonna be long and also spoilers.

Firsts thing first..the ones I found funny

Return of the Tails bleep

Blaze made a robot cry

LETS GO LESBIANS!!!

But for real I loved this issue

Poor Tangle she's felt so bad when all she wanted was to make Whisper happy. She was just so sad for the first half. And like this mistake lines up so well with her 'no thoughts head empty just action' personality.

And just Whisper finally reuniting with her friends made me so happy (the pink one is getting SMUSHED help them!! (also SEGA name them please)) She just really went through it these last few issues (so did Sonic cause you know the bitey bath he took) but still she already lost her friends once and it almost happened again she gonna need a minute.

Once again Tails and Blaze are the only ones who have a brain cell in the group. (also I love Blaze's face in these panels she just looks so done with Sonic's shenanigans lol)

Also rip to part of my other headcanon about the chaos emeralds and how Eggman hasn't really tired to recreate a fake one like Tails did in the Adventure 2 game. But also it still holds because even Tails said it's a "cheap replica(s)". (also of course Tails still has to get a burn in there towards Eggman and him having shit tech) This still means that somehow Tails made an replica that was the size of a chaos emerald and worked well enough Sonic teleported so Tails canonically still has made a better fake than Eggman.

But my mind also immediately just jumped to " *bangs fists on table* DARK SONIC * DARK SONIC * DARK SONIC" (they probably aint gonna do it but we got fake emeralds so I'm holding out hope we get a dark Sonic arc)

Give it up to my girl Amy for being a menace and a bad ass

DO YOU EVEN LIFT THOUGH!!!! (Silver i feel like is now a little afraid of her) Also Tails just knows she did something cool cause he knows how awesome Amy is. It's also such a little kid moment of "aww i missed something cool the older kids are doing"

I just think these panels are so cute, they're really just such brothers look at them having the same facile expressions and reactions.

Eggman just somewhere in his base right now thinking "Why do I suddenly hear the boss music from Doom???"

But hell yeah we got team dark being a group of badasses lets goooo!!!!!!! I'm so excited for the next issue.

[kninedlog]

Here's every current Sonic character IDW or Videogame and my; I've been with sonic the hedgehog since birth, opinion. PART 2

Yes this a part 2 I made another one that I posted before this one. If you haven't seen it you don't need to, but it does cover the main guys. This one goes a little obscure cuz this is mostly comic characters now.

If you want to read the first part check it out HERE and at the bottom of the post. THX 😊 Let's roll!

V+Name= Videogame vr

C+Name= IDW comic vr

Name = just assume I'm talking about both iterations or they only have the one of either.

(mostly jokes under the cut. I'm not taking this seriously. Obviously Spoilers for the IDW Sonic the hedgehog series.)

Tangle: She's cool and funny. Seriously though she's just a more accurate female sonic that Sonic Team was originally trying to go for with blaze but she turned out too serious and by the book so they placed that on Tangle. She handles that title well though. Truly a fun and charismatic girl.

Whisper: She's my favorite out of the new comic cast. I thought it would be Bell but then she came in. Whisper is so cool that she too has an urban legend about her in silver's time. That's enough for me to get hooked. If the future character knows about you and you turn it to be what the rumors say than you instantly take my heart.

Bell: She is interesting. Another reformed Eggman robot, we've seen that before but the fact SHE got Metal to halt and hesitate and also didn't attack her on the spot got me doing some thinking. Some theory crafting when that happened. I want her to have an hour with metal's system and watch she'll probably reform him for just a single issue alone. I want that so bad. She's skilled and dare I say a little scary, considering what she can do if sonic doesn't blow up every egg pawn or badnik he sees and just gives it to her so they can work for the resistance. Also happy that's she's technically tails' assist and lives with him, that's cute.

Jewel: She's so cute! I love her! She's so shiny and tiny and jumpy and whiney, and it's a fresh air to have a character thinking about common sense.

CTHE DEADLY SIX: They were cool for the short time they were there. I mean yeah they were there, what they could do with the emeralds was fascinating along with the arc they appered in. They were serious threats! Yet it was sort sweeped aside for Zavok and I kinda didn't like that. I wanted to see more of the problems the Six could've caused. Master Zik got the Babylon rouges stuck, that was shocking. The fight between zor, Silver and whisper was cool. Silver demolishing Zor's mechanical owl and then doing the cruelest thing he's ever done and leaving him for dead. That was cold. Cream vs Zeena was heart wrenching cuz I could already see the outcome despite the victory. Those were fun. The fights between Amy and tails vs Zomom and Espio vs Zazz they were lack luster to me.

CTHE DEADLY SIX: I could make a YouTube video about I feel about these six. It's been years since the game came out when they debuted so I have a lot of words that I can fit in this post alone. Take what I said from the comic iterations of them and you'll guess how I feel.

Jet: I feel the same about him in both vr's of himself. He's cool, he's loyal. And he's a jackass towards sonic. All the best character traits a sonic character could ever have.

Wave: She barely said anything in the comic so I'll have to go by games more. However, badsed on body poses and facial expressions alone you can tell that she's roughly the same character albeit a bit more laid back than her video game self. Although, the situation we saw the Babylon Rouges in was a bit unfair for their characters to suddenly be shown, so I'd just have to hope to see them again to form a better opinion. Other than all that, she's cool.

Storm: Haha big dumb funny guy haha.

Lanolin: OOHH I have a lot to say about Lanolin! She's dope. Really dope. I like her wispon and her choice of wisp. That's so flipping clever! I've been seeing (mostly hearing through the sonic content people I watch on YouTube) that she reminds everyone of Sally Acron too much and to that I say politely to Shut Up!

[[Small Tanget — OMG, not everyone is Sally. Amy gets development, she's Sally. Whisper gets some comic time and importance, she's Sally. I miss her too, honestly. Truly I do. But you gotta understand that she's not coming back. Sure people can have a look at any of them and say she's Sally Inspired or has made changes in honor of Sally but don't say they ARE her. Cuz their not. Their clearly not. There's enough different in many things to separate the two. Is someone where to redraw Sally over any of them (which I bet some people have tried to do, idk, I haven't been to that dark side of the fandom in forever and I refuse to go back) I bet it's gonna look really out of place. Not because you KNOW she's not supposed to be there but becuase how big of those differences are.]]]

Lanolin is great. She's a kick ass leader for the new Diamond cutters and I can't wait to see more of her. She's dope. It's also really cool how she's been developing in the background. I've noticed that and have been telling myself since the metal virus, "she's gonna be important someday. A design doesn't stay this consistent in the sonic verse without reason"

Dr Starline: AHH I love him! He's so cool and swauve and interesting. Yet his downfall was sad and we all saw it coming but without him we wouldn't have gotten the most bone chilling and coolest Eggman art. His character development from a collected and impressionable admirer, to a broken and disheveled fanatic deadset on impressing and topping the Eggman at his own game was on some anime levels type of writing. I hope they keep this up in the comic with any new villains cause Starline set an expectation for all new villains to try and climb over.

Surge: okay 2 things. 1 - my phone was giving me a hard time writing her name as it kept auto correcting or my fingers kept typing scourge at first. I don't know what that says about me but that's a thing. And 2 - The Tenrec is awesome. She had the fandom that was reading the comic in a chokehold once she was introduced. Setting the bar for antiheros in the sonic universe; that aren't robotic, for what they should be like in the future. Her and Kit in the same room reigns over the fight and causes utter destruction. Give them time and they'll create it to levels of Chaos flooding all of station square and more. Surge herself though is intriguing, for the last speed "villain" sonic has ever faced seriously was scourge in the comics and shadow in the games. Her means for acting and being the way she is with the tourtre Starline put her and Kitsunami through all for the sake of one flipping person. I'd be just as mad. Honestly, and I don't think my anger would ever go away. One of the best Sonic clones in a long time.

Kitsunami: Everytime I re-read imposter syndrome and the issues he was in I wanna cry. The personality of Kit is the exact opposite of his partner Surge and everytime they interacted healthily it was deep cuts of emotions for me. They both display the huge dramatized different reactions to trauma. Kitsunami's hit harder for me than Surge as I tend to people please more then get angry and lash out. With Kits whole deal being surge and nothing but her, I got scared for him when he was saved and Surge had her little fake out death. It scared the hell out of me, because what else was he supposed to do but bow down and fawn to the next thing closest to her. I'm sure if her death was real and Sonic and Tails took him in, he would soon grow and become his own person but his built in obsession for the tenrec or anything closest to her when she's not there as a character trait hurts but is amazing writing wise nonetheless.

Clutch: Clutch the Opossum is really cool. So cool to the point where I hope and pray so much that he comes back. Becuase I can see him being a legitimate threat. He too is an issue to both sonic and co and Eggman as he hotwires badniks to do is bidding with ease, apparently. So add that, with the extension of he's a composed business type of guy, with a face so sinister that mobsters would probably step down to him if he were to crack a deal, a master of deception feigning unconsciousness when possible and having a taste for the high quality of things. What's stopping him from collecting the emeralds himself. Or already/always having one in his possession. He's more a villain made to combat rouge or the Chaotix more than sonic and his gaggle of close friends, but I'm curious to see more of him.

Mimic: He's still out there. That's all I have to say. If you've read the Tangle and Whisper spin off and you read the bad guys spin off then you know who Mimic is, and know that he's still out there with the capabilities of being a SERIOUS problem all because of his simple ability of shape shifting.

- PART 1 - Here

- PART 2 - You're here!

[lazysublimeengineer]

fractured wings

Summary: Hiori was intoxicated by the dazzling light of Isagi out in the field and he wanted to get closer. Even surpassed his glittering lights of passion towards soccer. Too bad he was just a mere dying star circling around his orbit.

Characters: Isagi Y. & Hiori Y.

(A/N: Inspired by the latest events in the manga. Also, I have mixed emotions about the latest chapter of the manga. My baby Hiori is finally shining in this arc but at what cost? Anyway, there are heavy spoilers for this one shot as some of the scenes and dialogues are excerpts from the manga panels themselves. So, if you haven’t read the manga yet and don’t want to be spoiled ahead of time, hit the back button. But if all is good then proceed reading downwards. I don’t own anything from this franchise except for this fic of mine. Respective ownership belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura for this wonderful manga.)

“Thanks for picking me.”

“I didn’t do it for you... It’s just that I need your abilities to score. That’s all there is to it.”

Right.

Isagi’s words earlier had tethered him on the reality of their situation in Blue Lock. They needed to score against the Ubers. Isagi needed to score a goal against Kaiser to make him the hero of this match and better striker in their team.

Isagi needed him.

No.

Isagi needed his skills to his own advantage.

It was like with his parents and their expectations of him.

Nevertheless, Hiori found himself never minding it if Isagi was the one having an expectation of him.

Maybe because in that moment he saw a beacon of hope in front of him. A shining light out in the field amid the oppressive space of the environment and their opponents.

Isagi’s eyes were a a pair of dazzling hues of ocean that he could drown himself in.

And he couldn’t help but to reach out for him. Reach out for him up in the sky even if the gap between the two of them were a million miles away.

He wanted him to shine brighter.

He wanted to be the one who would make his light better than everyone else.

He wanted him to become the king of the field.

“Hiori! Over here! Pass it here!” Isagi yelled desperately from the other side of the field.

Hiori held the ball under his control.

He wanted to pass.

He needed to pass.

He needed to do what’s the most logical thing in this situation and to adhere to the code of the Bastard Munchen.

Cold logic and rationality should always persevere over the whims of their hearts and fickle emotions.

But in that moment Hiori hesitated.

A shadow loomed over his heart and gripped it tightly that made him bewildered and second guess himself.

‘That’s it! Shoot Yo! We expect great things from you!’

‘Become No. 1 ya hear me! No. 1! We believe in you!’

Hiori wanted to silence his parents’ voice inside his head.

He hated how they pushed their expectations on him.

But he didn’t hate Isagi’s expectations of him.

And yet...

…

“Pass it! Hiori! Look at me!” Isagi’s loud voice became a white noise in front of him.

The shadows’ voices grew louder and louder.

‘Shoot. Isn’t that what a striker is all about?’

What’s the right choice?

‘Believe in yourself. Find something that truly gets your blood pumping. If you don’t start there, you’ll keep running in circles, idiot.’

Karasu’s voice permeated his senses and his eyes widened for a fraction of a second.

He kept hiding behind other people’s expectations and pretended that everything was okay when in reality he was a coward who kept running away and didn’t believe in himself.

He was done with that phase in his life.

“I’m gonna believe in myself! This shot will be my answer!” Hiori’s emerald irises blazed with a raging determination and ferocity as he finally took a shot and hit the ball fiercely going to the net.

“He shot it?!” Aiku watched in disbelief and horror as the ball started to fly towards the net.

“Oh my. Didn’t see that comin’...” Lorenzo looked utterly surprised by the cyan haired’s shot.

Hiori could feel all the stares on him and the ball flying through the sky with their expressions ranging from awe, disbelief, horror and shock.

Even Isagi was momentarily taken aback by his actions.

However, the feeling of brief respite and hope thrumming inside of him was immediately squashed away by Sendou’s block and sent the ball rolling back into the field.

“Nice Sendou!” Aiku yelled victoriously.

The glimmer around Hiori’s eyes died and was replaced by a trajectory of combined misery and disappointment written all over his face.

“Ah... I knew it... I wasn’t meant to play soccer after all...” Hiori whispered to himself like a dying man in the middle of a dessert.

What was he thinking?

Being a striker himself?

Risking it all and not even passing to Isagi?

Laughable.

Hiori was intoxicated by the dazzling light of Isagi out in the field and he wanted to get closer. Even surpassed his glittering lights of passion towards soccer. Too bad he was just a mere dying star circling around his orbit.

He could now see himself kissing goodbye to the opportunity of being included in the starting lineup in the future match against another opponent.

There was a gaping hole of wretchedness inside his chest and Hiori wanted to curl around his bed and let the pillow drown the impending sorrow that threatened to escape itself from his entire being.

Unbeknownst to him, Isagi stared at him with those gleaming blue eyes and pupils marred with a stark realization of everything.

(A/N: Reviews are amusing so let me hear them from you.)