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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 3 years ago

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hear those bells ring deep in the soul (a katsuki bakugo/reader fic)

Summary: Pro Hero Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero. He'd worked hard to achieve his position, his fame. And now it was all going down the damn drain, along with his hearing.

~*~*

Bakugo is suffering from hearing loss as a side effect of his quirk, and he struggles with how to face this new challenge. Enter Reader with a healing quirk.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo/Reader; Katsuki Bakugo/You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood & violence.

A/N: No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

*****A/N Part 2: This post has now been updated to include the links to Ch 2

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Pro Hero Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero. Actually, he’d argue he was tied for first place with the current Symbol of Peace, Shitty Deku. Their victory statistics were basically the fucking same, the only difference was the freckled idiot was made of smiles and sunshine and stupid fucking sugar or something. The whole world ate out of his scarred, fucked up hand, and Darling Deku ate up all the media’s attention in return.

In contrast, Bakugo wasn’t a “people person,” as Deku loved to put it, but… he also wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old brat who got muzzled on live national television. Pro Hero Dynamight was known for his crass, blunt language, his vicious streak of justice when it came to villains, but people also looked up to him. Extras cheered for him in the streets as he exploded past mid-battle. Children ran up to him on patrol and asked him to sign their books, their photos, their Dynamight merch. On one memorable occasion, that he may or may not have saved on his computer, a national news channel ran a live clip from a disaster site, a villain attack turned rescue mission after a building collapsed. The soundbite was only thirty seconds, a close up of a pale, dusty woman with a shallow cut on her brow. The splash of crimson and her bloodshot blue eyes were the only spots of color on her, everything else washed out in white plaster and cement dust, tear tracks carving grooves down her cheeks.

But the smile on her face could have lit up goddamn Tokyo.

“Dynamight saved us,” the woman had said to the news reporter, her voice full of awe and tears. “I-I got stuck under some debris, but I heard the moment Dynamight arrived, and I just knew we were safe. The battle was over a minute later, and then he just… pulled me out of the wreckage. He pulled us all out. He’s… the greatest hero I’ve ever seen.”

That was a nice stroke to his ego. And the dazed woman had been right. He had pulled everyone out of that building, and not a single person died that day, which only confirmed what he already knew:

Katsuki Bakugo was the best of the best. Deku might have been the better show pony, but Dynamight was an undefeated hero, fierce, fearless, ferocious.

Except right now… he was fucking scared out of his mind.

This couldn’t be happening.

“What?” he snarled at the extra in the white coat standing before him.

The man flinched and visibly recoiled, shuffling back a step and partially ducking behind his tablet device. When he spoke again, he’d raised his voice an entire fucking octave.

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” the doctor stammered, but then he seemed to regain his composure and lowered his voice a little. “I… I wish I had better news for you, Dynamight, but…”

He trailed off and swallowed, the jut of his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath the thin skin of his throat.

“But what?” Bakugo spat, something like magma roiling in his veins, pops of heat crackling against his palms like splatters of hot oil from a stove.

“B-But this… can’t come as a complete shock to you,” the doctor said as he glanced back at his tablet. “Other physicians before myself must have warned you of the risks.”

The risks. Bakugo bared his teeth in a silent snarl. What did this fucking extra, with his soft hands and softer body, know about risks? The heat in his palms grew until he could see their red-hot glow out of the corner of his eye.

“Well, who and how much do I gotta pay to fix it?” Bakugo demanded as he shoved his hands in his pockets.

“That depends,” the doctor hedged and adjusted the square black glasses perched on his stupid face. “There are a variety of aid types—”

“I don’t want fuckin’ support gear or aids,” Bakugo sneered. “I want mine fixed.”

Now, the doctor’s face grew pitying. “I’m afraid that’s just not possible, given a number of factors, most importantly your current occupation.”

“My current occupation?” the hero seethed, teeth bared again like a wounded dog, a cornered wolf, snapping at the world. “Are you fucking KIDDING—”

A hint of fear sparked in the doctor’s eyes, but he suddenly raised a hand, palm out in the universal symbol for stop. “Dynamight, sir, I know this is distressing, but there are other sick patients in these walls, so please refrain from using your quirk.”

“I’m not usin’ shit,” Bakugo snapped, but then the doctor’s eyes flicked downward, and Bakugo followed them to his hands, wreathed in sparks and flares of flames, lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

The breath stuttered in Bakugo’s lungs.

He hadn’t even felt himself call upon his quirk.

Even worse… he hadn’t heard it when he did.

He dropped his hands quickly, shoving them back in his pockets. Bile rose in his throat, but he washed it down with blood as he bit through his tongue.

“There has to be… something,” he gritted out, curling his hands into fists in their confines. “A healer—”

“Healers are rarer than you think,” the doctor sighed and shook his head. “And what’s more, they’re usually specific and limited. Their abilities are tied to blood types or restricted to relatives or even limbs. One nurse here can only heal femur bones.”

“Bullshit they’re rare, I’ve met at least two goddamn healers just this month,” Bakugo spat. “These paramedics—”

“And how strong where they?” the doctor cut him off again, raising an eyebrow. “You said paramedics, so I’m going to assume their talents mostly lie in the superficial and basic: triage, stopping the bleeding, knitting skin back together, etc.”

“What’s your fucking point?” He was this close to punching the asshole right in the glasses.

“My point is the inner workings of your ear are much more delicate than a broken rib or lacerated arm,” the doctor said in a really condescending tone that Bakugo did not appreciate. “But let’s say you do find a healer specific enough and skilled enough to restore the hearing you have already lost without damaging anything else in the process. What then? I don’t imagine Japan’s Number Two Hero retiring less than ten years after his debut and hanging up his quirk.”

Bakugo scowled, heart kick-starting in his chest, his gut tying itself in a knot.

No. No, that wasn’t possible. Katsuki Bakugo was a hero, the best of the best. It was all he’d ever wanted, and he would be damned if it was taken from him.

The doctor must have seen as much on the blond’s face because he sighed and adjusted his glasses again. “Exactly. Which means you’re just going to keep destroying your ears again and again, and even if say Recovery Girl was still alive, the repetitive healing sessions would destroy your own body’s healing factor, and after a while, you would still lose you’re hearing.”

“Tch.” Bakugo looked away and gritted his teeth so hard they ached.

The doctor sighed. “You’re already at moderate hearing loss, Dynamight, so while we do still have some options, they are limited. Honestly… I’m surprised you didn’t come in sooner.”

He should have. He fucking should have. He’d been noticing little things for years, but he just brushed it off, yelled at Deku to speak the fuck up and stop mumbling, told himself his phone must be a piece of shit and that’s why he didn’t hear a call or message. The low persistent ringing he’d been experiencing since UA was harder to write off, but after a while, it was also easier to ignore.

Then, on his last mission, Bakugo was shoving some weak ass villain at a couple of cops. The battle had lasted less than five minutes, and he was still itching for a fight, his quirk burning just beneath the surface of his skin, like embers waiting to explode back into flame. In the next moment, a hand had suddenly clamped down on his shoulder from behind, and he’d reacted out of reflex, flipping his attacker over his shoulder and nearly blasting them in the gut for good measure.

“Whoa! Fuck, dude, it’s me!” Kirishima had yelped, his skin rippling and hardening in an instant. Wide, red eyes gaped up at him, and Japan’s Number Three Hero even looked a little worried. “Didn’t you hear me? I called your name like five times.”

Bakugo had dropped Red Riot like he was on fire. No. No, Dynamight hadn’t heard his patrol partner. In fact, all he could hear in the moment was the muted wailing of sirens, the low murmur of shouting extras, and the blood roaring in his head.

Now, two days later he was standing in front of a doctor who was telling him there was nothing more they could do.

But that was fucking unacceptable. He couldn’t lose his hearing. What kind of shitty hero would he be if he couldn’t hear where the villains were in battle or where stupid extras in need of saving were in rescue situations?

He wouldn’t be a hero at all, just a fucking liability.

Bakugo tried to imagine having to retire, to hang up his hero costume, to leave Shitty Hair in charge of their joint agency. What would he do? He’d wanted, and planned, to be a hero since he was five years old. He had no other skills, not really. It wasn’t like he could work a damn desk job. Well, UA might throw him a bone, offer him a pity faculty position.

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth.

“What… are my options?” he asked haltingly as he snapped his eyes up and locked gazes with the doctor. “You said I still had some.”

The man in the white coat blinked in surprise, but then he straightened up and tapped at his tablet. “Currently, you have a few options, but you’d receive the best outcome if we did them all together. First, we can get you fitted for some hearing aids for you to wear while you are off duty. They would significantly increase your hearing capacity in your normal day-to-day life.”

Bakugo felt his face pull into a scowl. “Off duty? I need them while I’m on duty!”

“If you wear them while using your quirk, you’ll ruin the rest of your hearing in one blow,” the doctor said with a straight face. “Hearing aids amplify sounds. Amplifying your explosions is the last thing we want.”

“Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do then?” the hero snapped, heat flaring through his body with a supernova.

“Since I assume you’re going to continue your hero work, I would recommend contacting a support gear company.” The doctor made a note on his tablet. “We’ll email you the contact information for several companies the hospital has connections with, and once you chose one, we can send them your file. There are numerous noise-cancelling devices out there, but given your situation, you will probably need to collaborate with them for something custom. The goal is to having something to protect your ears-- a helmet, headphones, anything really—while you are using your quirk. Between such a device and the hearing aids, I hope we can preserve what’s left of your hearing and maybe give you a little bit back. But I will warn you… you’re hearing will never be as it was. You should know that now.”

You’re hearing will never be as it was.

The words cycloned through Bakugo’s head, round and round and round, destroying every other thought in their path. He felt detached from himself, the doctor’s voice fizzling out into a muffled drone. His vision seemed to narrow and darken, like he was viewing the world at the end of a very long and dark tunnel. One minute, he was standing there in that examine room, and then he blinked and was on the street, people rushing past him like a river unbothered by the boulder in its current.

He glanced down at his hand, at the paperwork for his follow up appointment and his fitting for the hearing aids. Heat squirmed under his skin, in his veins, like something living, something that wanted to get out.

Bakugo bared his teeth, crumpled the paper in his fist, and let the heat rush through his body, down through his arm, and into his hand. He didn’t hear the crackle, but he saw the flares of light, trapped between his palm and the paperwork like fireflies.

Then he opened his hand, and he watched the wind catch the ash and carry if off down the street, out of sight.

He needed a fucking drink.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Several hours later, Bakugo stumbled out of his usual dive bar, the taste of whisky still burning a hole through the back of his throat. The night was colder than he anticipated, colder than it should be for the beginning of autumn, and he grumbled and cursed as he hunched against the wind. He squinted at his phone, debating on whether to call a car, but in the end it was too much trouble. He was less than a half an hour’s walk from his apartment, and it was late, so he wouldn’t have to worry about extras coming up to him for photos or goddamn autographs.

Besides, the whisky hadn’t helped to quench the heat writhing through his veins, in fact the alcohol only made it worse. Bakugo felt restless, all pins and needles and ants, so maybe the brisk walk would burn off some of that energy.

Decided, Bakugo turned in the direction of home and began the long, stumbling journey through the midnight streets.

Time passed as sluggishly as his feet, which he made sure to stare down at so he didn’t trip over them. Like he anticipated, he passed no one on the sidewalks, and few cars rumbled past him. It wasn’t surprising, this neighborhood was mostly shops that closed by sundown and a few residences. The dive bar he’d left was a holdover from past decades when this side of town was rougher, but Bakugo suspected the old man who owned the joint would live on for at least another decade, if only to spite the development companies that kept trying to buy him out. The ornery bastard was half the reason Bakugo loved that bar, the other half being their decent whisky and usually empty stools.

“Shit,” he mumbled as he suddenly slipped, tittering on the edge of the curb.

He shook his head and managed to regain his balance, but when he took another step, he wobbled again.

“Come on, you drunk idiot,” he hissed at himself as he stumbled once more.

Except… he’d been standing still that time.

“Hah?” Bakugo squinted down at his feet.

The pebbles around his shoes rattled and jumped. He didn’t think he was that drunk, but he slapped his cheek with a bit of heat to his palm. The snap of warmth and pain woke him up a little, but when he glanced back down at the ground, everything was still moving.

“What the fu—”

Then the road undulated under his feet like a living thing, and the shockwave hit him a moment later.

Bakugo barked a curse as he was bucked several feet into the air, twin explosions blooming from his palms so he could right himself and land on his feet. He snapped his head up as he skidded to a stop, and the breath stilled in his lungs.

Up ahead, a man stood in the middle of the intersection, staring down the road to Bakugo’s left. Black rubble and goo floated around him like asteroids trapped in a planet’s orbit, and even from a distance, Bakugo could see the crazed smile on the man’s pale, black-streaked face.

A moment later, several heroes lunged out from around the corner and barreled straight for the villain, only to be blasted backwards as the villain flung out his hands and commanded the black debris and goo to slam into the idiots.

The villain threw back his head and seemed to laugh maniacally. Bakugo couldn’t hear it, but that didn’t matter. Lava was starting to boil in his veins, burning off the last of the whisky, and Dynamight felt an equally crazed smile stretch across his mouth.

This idiot had chosen the wrong road to fuck up tonight.

Heat condensed in his palms like collapsing stars, and then he was exploding forward, the taste of ozone and nitroglycerin on his tongue.

Within moments, Bakugo was able to determine the villain’s quirk revolved around asphalt. The bastard was able to pull large chunks of it out of the road and then liquify parts of them until they were scalding and sticky.

The other heroes—whoever they were, Bakugo didn’t even care to check—struggled to evade the villain’s attacks, but evasion wasn’t Dynamight’s style. He came at the bastard head on, exploding every rock and tar puddle in his way.

Of course, asphalt was flammable, so flames were flaring up all around the street now, but Bakugo wasn’t stupid enough to get burned. If the other heroes were, that was on them.

Dynamight was here to get the job done.

“Come here, ya sonvabitch,” Bakugo snarled as he blasted apart a chunk of asphalt aimed for his head.

The villain shrieked out something high-pitched that Bakugo didn’t catch, and then the fucker was swinging out his arm, a blob of black tar following the arc.

Bakugo let out a controlled burst toward his feet and backflipped through the air, crunching down on the roof of a parked car. He could see some of the other heroes waving at him from the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying over the wailing of the car alarm below him.

The villain’s sneer was a white slash on his black, goo-streaked face, and Bakugo bared his teeth back in an expression halfway between a feral grin and a beast’s snarl. He could feel the heat crackling along his palms as he contemplated his next move, but then the villain shouted something, and all the asphalt floating in the air rocketed back towards him like the fucker was a magnet.

As Bakugo watched, the debris and goo coalesced into a singular shape, liquifying and hardening in turns until a giant black arm the size of a semi was hovering over the road. The fingers wiggled in a jaunty little wave as the villain shouted something again that was lost to the car’s still wailing alarm, and then the giant hand curled into a fist and dropped down on Bakugo like the hammer of some god.

He exploded out of the way and up into the air right before the fist smashed into the car he’d been standing on, and the siren cut out with a muffled crunch.

Bakugo had barely landed before the arm was shooting out again, but this time it wasn’t aimed for him.

A stupid fucking extra had stumbled out of one of the buildings and stood gaping like a goddamn moron on the sidewalk. Several of the on-scene heroes rushed forward, but the hand swatted them aside like annoying flies. The idiot civilian was still just standing there, though, and Bakugo found himself airborne before he could even process the thought.

“Run!” he roared as he reached the extra and shoved him out of the way, but an instant later, he felt stony fingers wrap around his torso and squeeze.

Bakugo wheezed out a curse as the giant hand lifted him into the sky, the pressure around his ribs increasing with every second. The asphalt was hot in some places, too, scalding the skin of his left arm where it was pinned against his hip. He wrenched his right arm around and tried to aim at the wrist of the asphalt appendage, but the angle was off, and the few chunks he was able to blast were quickly replaced by more rubble and boiling tar.

“Fuck!” Bakugo screamed as the fist clenched down around him. His ribs strained, his lungs unable to expand, pain licking at him like the flames flickering in his peripherals.

Distantly, he heard the villain’s laughter below him, and as the arm swayed to the side, Bakugo realized he was right above the bastard. His vision swam, his ribs screaming, his arm burning, but Bakugo gritted his teeth as he aimed his right palm down. He concentrated every ounce of his quirk into his hand until it glowed white-hot, and the asphalt around him began to liquefy again.

The villain’s eyes widened as he realized what the hero was doing, and the fucker wildly swung out his arm in a last-ditch effort. The giant asphalt limb responded in kind, but Bakugo unleashed his quirk right before the arm flung him through the air.

A massive explosion rocked the street an instant later, and the subsequent shockwave slammed into his back and propelled him through a window.

He felt the impact and pain as he struck the glass, and then…

Nothing.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Ouch, fuck!” you cursed as your pricked yourself for the millionth time.

A red drop of blood beaded up on the pad of your index finger, and you scowled before you sucked the smarting appendage into your mouth. It was more of a reflex than anything, since by the time you pulled your finger out, the pinprick of a wound was already healed. Healing such a small injury would usually barely even register to you, but the clock above your desk was inching closer and closer to midnight, and you’d been up since 6am. You also skipped dinner so you could finish altering the dress you were currently working on, which didn’t help your energy levels, but you were just a few stitches away from completing your task, so you hunched back over and powered through the next five minutes.

When you were finally done, you sat back in your chair with a sigh and threw down your needle and thread. The sewing table before you swam and doubled as your vision struggled to focus on something, and you rubbed at your tired, burning eyes. You always tried to work reasonable hours, have a healthy work-life balance, but somehow you always found yourself slaving away into the dark hours of the night. You tried to tell yourself it wasn’t your fault. You’d lived here less than a year, so you didn’t know many people beyond your few neighbors and the old ladies who frequented your alterations shop.

You were also trying very hard to keep your grandparents’ business afloat.

Your grandfather had been a tailor, your grandmother a seamstress. They’d opened a shop together over fifty years ago, and if your parents hadn’t moved to America before you were born, you were sure you father would have taken over the family business. In the end, though, after your grandparents passed, you were the one to take up the needle and pull up your roots. You’d always loved making your own clothes, and you’d always felt… disconnected in America. Nothing had ever felt… right, no matter how many jobs you hopped around to. The US had been the only home you’d ever known, but when you and your parents spoke Japanese together, it had made something ache deep in the center of you, something you couldn’t name or place.

So, when your father said he was taking a trip to the homeland to sell his parents’ shop, you’d gone with him and somehow convinced him to sign everything over to you. Which was more than just a little insane. Your prior work history had been in food service and clothing retail, and your degree was in linguistics for fuck’s sake. You had no idea how to run a business, let alone in another country. Thankfully, you spoke Japanese fluently, so that had been one less hurtle to overcome, but everything else had been a dramatic learning curve. Getting to know the new city, figuring out the currency, hell even navigating the vastly different social norms of Japanese culture was daunting, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t have numerous fumbles along the way.

It, everything, had definitely taken some getting used to.

Now, a year later, things were just starting to really look up. You had used most of the money your grandparents left you to renovate the shop, get new equipment, and fix the upstairs apartment you lived in. About two dozen loyal customers helped to pay your bills and keep you afloat, and one-to-two new customers walked into your shop each month just on word of mouth. You weren’t rich by any means, but you weren’t struggling like you did in America. You felt… happy here, if a little tired. Fulfilled.

That might also have had something to do with your little… side business.

You bit your lip as your eyes shot to your window guiltily, like someone was watching you. You weren’t doing anything wrong—right now, anyways—but for the last six months, it’s been hard to shake off your paranoia.

And your guilt. Which was ridiculous. You weren’t hurting anyone. In fact, you were doing the exact opposite.

But it was still against the law. Here in Japan, at least.

That was another thing that took some getting used to. The Japanese government had strict laws on quirk usage, unlike in America where everything was about individualistic rights. In Japan, only heroes were given almost free reign, but even they had some restrictions on when and how they could use their powers.

For the rest of the Japanese populace, using quirks in day-to-day life, without official permission, was frowned upon at best and illegal at worst.

Because of your specific quirk, you leaned more toward the illegal side of things.

Healing quirks were rare. That’s what you’d been told all your life. Your mother’s quirk was the ability to lower fevers by somehow using her own body to regulate the temperature. Nothing super special or powerful, but she’d gone on to become a pediatric nurse, so she had used her quirk to its fullest and made a long, happy career for herself.

When you were young and your quirk manifested, you thought you would follow in your mother’s footsteps.

But as a teenager, you’d come to some hard realizations about yourself.

One, you weren’t strong enough to be a hero. You’d tried to get into a hero course in the States, several in fact. One course rejected you solely on your application, and then you failed two entrance exams. It had been a devastating blow to your youthful dreams and self-esteem, but your mother encouraged you, said being a hero wasn’t the only way to use your quirk for good.

So, you turned your focus to medicine… and quickly discovered that wasn’t right for you, either. Your mother hated when you said this but… you just weren’t smart enough. You had tried, really did, but everything was such a struggle, like Sisyphus slogging uphill through the mud. It just didn’t click for you like it did for your mom. You also hated to admit it, but you were a little squeamish. You were fine with small stuff, cuts and bruises, broken fingers, but once you had to dissect a large pig in an anatomy class, and the smell and weight of the pig’s slippery organs in your hands made your lunch rise up into the back of your throat. You somehow managed to make it through the class, but directly after you ran to the bathroom and emptied your own guts into the toilet.

With your dreams of being a hero and doctor dashed, you’d been a little aimless in college, taking random courses to fill your time and see if anything spoke to you. Then, during an 8am linguistics lecture you signed up for on a whim, something ignited inside you. Languages spoke to you like science and medicine never did. So, you’d changed your major to linguistics, minored in Japanese to feel closer to your parents, and took ever other language credit you could get your hands on. In between classes, you’d taken up sewing again while you listened to your audio assignments. It was just something to keep your hands busy at first, a skill your father taught you as a child until you abandoned it, but then your roommates complimented your work and started asking you to hem their jeans or take in their skirts. They offered to pay you, but you always declined, saying it was no trouble, you liked the work, and you liked being able to help.

At some point, you realized that was all you had ever wanted to do. Help people. And if you couldn’t save them as a hero, you would find some other way to make yourself useful.

So, you studied languages in the hopes of being able to help others communicate. You altered your friends’ clothes and made them small things like a monogrammed scarf or mittens. And, occasionally, you healed your roommates’ hangovers or food poisoning, stopped the bleeding when they cut their fingers making dinner, pushing through their pain to make them whole again. It wasn’t a lot, nothing really, but it was something, and it made you feel purposeful.

When you moved to Japan, you mourned the loss of being able to use your quirk on others, but you shoved the thought aside and focused on your work and the shop and figuring out how to settle down in your first home on your own.

Then, six months after you took over the shop, Mrs. Kojima, a little old lady in her seventies, had brought in her grandchildren’s uniforms to be patched and altered. She’d known your grandparents for many years, so she was always kind and had a story to share with you about your father in his youth or the gorgeous dresses your grandmother used to make. You always looked forward to Mrs. Kojima’s visits, and she always had a way of making you feel younger than you were, but not in a bad way. She just made you feel… nostalgic and safe, like you were listening to your late grandma talk over the phone.

This was probably why, when Mrs. Kojima slipped and fell in front of your counter, you reacted without thinking. The old lady barely had time to hit the floor and cry out before you were hovering over her, a green aura illuminating your hands. Her pain hit you a moment later, like a heated slap to the face, a bone-deep ache in your leg, but you gritted your teeth and pushed through the discomfort. Then you moved your fingers over to the hip Mrs. Kojima was clutching, and a moment later you felt the drain as your energy siphoned into the elderly woman’s body. Thankfully, it had only been a fracture, not a full break, so you barely even felt the difference in your strength, but as Mrs. Kojima gaped up at you, realization struck you like a freight train.

You had used your quirk, without a license, without permission, hell without the consent of Mrs. Kojima. Healing quirks were illegal for a reason, so many things could go wrong, and you weren’t properly trained. Your breathing hitched as panic seized your heart, squeezing like a vise, and your entire world had just begun to crash down around your ears when Mrs. Kojima sat up and threw her arms around you.

“Thank you,” she’d sniffled into your hair in Japanese. “Thank you so much.”

After the initial shock wore off, you had helped Mrs. Kojima into a chair, and she’d continued to thank you over and over again, saying how money was tight and she would have hated to be a burden to her children with hospital bills and a long recovery. She talked about how a lot of her elderly friends were in similar positions, dealing with perpetual aches and pains but having no way to pay for treatment or seek relief.

The sadness in her face had twisted something in your chest, an ache you were all too familiar with. It was the one you felt after you failed the hero course entrance exams. The ache you felt when you realized you could never be a doctor. The ache of being helpless in the face of suffering.

Your mouth had opened without your permission, and you told Mrs. Kojima that you would help her, and her friends, whenever they needed it. The elderly Japanese woman tried to wave you off, saying she didn’t want to get you in any trouble, but you had just smiled and said, “I’m fine with making a little good trouble.”

You didn’t know where your courage had come from, but you let it carry you past your fears and doubts.

So, for the last six months, Mrs. Kojima had brought all of her friends, and sometimes their children and grandchildren, to you when they were in need of healing. They always brought dresses or pants or blouses for you to fix as a cover, and you did do alterations work for them, but you also eased flaring arthritis, cataracts, fevers, and scrapped knees in the backroom. You refused to take payment for these secret services, it just felt wrong, but the little old ladies somehow always snuck large “tips” into your register when you weren’t looking.

Mrs. Kojima and every one of her friends and family members swore to their ancestors to keep your secret, and you trusted them, but you still couldn’t help proverbially looking over your shoulder, holding your breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for the police to barge in and take you away.

It hadn’t happened yet, but the worry of it kept you up most nights, which was maybe another reason why you threw yourself into your work until you were so tired you just passed out.

You sighed again as you stretched and felt your back pop, releasing some of the tension in your spine. Glancing at the clock, you saw it was just past midnight, and you winced. You had to be up at five tomorrow—today, now—because Mr. Akane wanted to come in early before you opened the shop. His bad knee was giving him trouble again, an old injury he’d obtained as a boy. You were unable to fully reconstruct the joint—that took more strength and stamina than you currently possessed—but you were able to soothe his pain for weeks at a time, which he was immensely grateful for. He always brought you fresh fish when he came by, “gifts” he’d emphasized when you reminded him you didn’t take payment, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t appreciate the gesture. You weren’t exactly hurting for money, but you also didn’t normally splurge on fish caught just that morning, and you told yourself you deserved the small treat. Besides, the protein helped boost your energy and stamina levels, which meant you could heal more people, so really Mr. Akane was merely investing in his future treatments.

Your stomach grumbled at the thought of food, and you dragged yourself out of your chair before picking your way across your messy apartment to the kitchen. The apartment wasn’t very large, one large space for kitchen, dining, and living room, with one small bedroom and one bathroom down a hallway to the right when you walked in the front door. But it had been your grandparent’s home for many years before they bought a larger house after having your father, and it sat right above the shop, so you never had to worry about running late for work.

Bolts of fabric, some client pieces, and a few of your own personal sewing projects were strewn over every available surface of the main room, but you had the cleared path through the chaos memorized, so you were tossing leftovers in the microwave barely thirty seconds later. The warmed-up curry and rice—another “gift” from Mrs. Kojima—tasted as good as it had the last several days, and you hummed as the spiced meat slid down your throat and settled in your belly. After the first bite, your hunger seemed to hit you in full force, and you scarfed down every last bite in a matter of minutes. When you were done, the minor headache that had been pulsing behind your eyes abated, and you yawned as you rinsed off the dishes.

You set the damp plate on the edge of the counter as you reached for a towel, but then a sudden tremor, followed by a loud boom, seemed to shake the building, and the plate tittered on the counter’s edge for a moment before it crashed to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasped as you jumped back and away from the ceramic shards, but another tremor-boom combo had you stumbling, and you scrambled to grab the back of the couch so you didn’t fall on your ass.

Your wide eyes took in the broken plate scattered at your feet before they jumped to the window on the opposite side of the room. The night sky was dark beyond, cut only by the dim street light just beyond the window’s view. You held your breath as your heart hammered in your ears, the hair on the back of your neck prickling, sweat slicking your palms.

What the fuck was that? Your first thought was earthquake—you hadn’t experienced one yet, but you knew they were common in Japan—but then you remembered the booms.

Maybe… maybe an electrical box blew? But no, the lights were still working. A car crash?

Then another boom vibrated you down to your very bones, and you fell to one knee as the breath hitched in your lungs.

That sounded… closer.

With your heart in your throat, you half scrambled, half crawled the last few feet to your window, and you peeked your head over the sill just as a flash off white-hot light lit up the night sky.

“Shit!” You squinted your eyes against the glare as you leaned back from the window, but then you saw a shadow streak through the air before it crashed into a car just at the edge of your peripherals.

You had the distant thought that Mr. Takeyoshi’s vehicle was very obviously totaled before you realized the thing that had crashed into the car was a person.

Your jaw gaped open as a hero pulled himself from the wreckage and shook his head groggily. The shadows—only broken by more flares of light as more explosions and fire seemed to erupt along the street—made it difficult to tell how injured the hero was. You didn’t recognize their yellow and teal costume, but you saw patches of blood along the hero’s bulky frame, and bile burned at the back of your teeth.

Holy shit. This wasn’t an accident. It was a villain attack.

Just as you had the thought, another explosion rattled your windows, making your ears ring, and you snapped your head to the side to see a man standing in the middle of the road about half a block down.

The man—villain, you realized quickly—swung his arms around like a conductor of an orchestra, but his instruments seemed to be the black rocks and liquid swirling around him. The debris glistened like an oil slick in the light of the flames, and as you watched, the villain shouted something and slashed his arm through the air.

Then a figure suddenly exploded onto the scene, lunging out from the shadows in a flare of white-hot light. It moved too fast for you to track, but the villain swung his arm again, and rocks and viscous black goo shot toward the figure still in mid-air.

A futile scream of warning caught in your throat, but then the figure seemed to explode and backflip through the air, landing on his feet but crushing the roof of a car beneath his boots. The wailing of the car’s alarm split the air, and you clenched your teeth until they ached.

The flames illuminated this new man’s face, a snarl of white teeth against the flames and smoke, but only the barest hint of recognition flared through you before everything exploded into chaos again. Another shout from the villain had all the rocks and black slime streaking back towards him, and you watched in horror as a stony black arm fifty feet long formed above the ruined street.

You knew you should be running, trying to find cover, calling the police, but you were glued there, on your knees before the window, you fingers digging grooves into the sill.

The next fifteen seconds seemed to simultaneously happen in slow motion and at hyper speed.

The giant rocky hand wiggled its fingers before it curled into a fist and slammed down on the wailing car and the man atop it.

The man—hero, you distantly thought, although your chaotic thoughts still couldn’t place him—launched up into the air with another explosion that rattled your windows, the car alarm cutting off as the vehicle was crushed an instant later.

The blond skidded into a landing half a dozen yards away, but then you suddenly saw Mr. Takeyoshi standing on the street, a ghostly apparition framed by smoke and flames.

You blinked, and the giant hand shot toward Mr. Takeyoshi, batting away several more heroes who tried to intervene.

Then the explosive hero was just there, pushing Mr. Takeyoshi out of the way, right before the hand wrapped around him.

You could hear the hero’s anguished scream through your window as he was crushed in the fist’s grip, and the sound hit you right in the solar plexus, knocking the breath out of you, bruising your insides, the pain settling into the familiar ache of being helpless in the face of suffering.

You watched uselessly as the hero was lifted up into the sky, struggling, setting off explosions left and right. Then the massive arm seemed to pause in the middle of the road, right above the villain, and your eyes locked onto the hero, his pale hair and skin stark against the black, rocky hand that held him trapped.

In the next instant, a white light, like a star going supernova, bloomed to life around the hero, illuminating the white slash of his snarling teeth before it became too bright for you to take. You slammed your eyes shut against the burning light, and the hair on the back of your neck stood on end, like the moment before lightning struck, as you dropped to the floor below your window.

Then the world exploded, the building shaking to its foundations, right before the window burst into a million shards of glass.

#bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki/reader #bakugo/reader #bakugo katsuki/you #bakugo katsuki x you #my hero academia #mha spoilers #boku no hero academia #bnha #anime #fanfic #my writings #katsuki bakugo

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allegedlyanandroid · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! For the fic prompts! Can I got a 900Gavin A/B/O fic about alpha!RK900 who try to bite Omega!Gavin scent glands when they first meet because RK900 didn't have a social program but have only a primal instinct program? Could pls keep it fluff and light,plssss? 🥺 I read too many dark fics but if it couldn't then it ok too.

I took some artistic liberties with this one and made Gavin a bounty hunter for the sole purpose that I couldn’t figure out a good reason as to why Fowler would assign them as partners if Nines tried to take a bite out of him on first meeting. I mean... who can blame him though? Gavin is a snacc. Did I think to much into it? Yes, definitely. Either way, I hope you like it @therainnight, fingers crossed that it has an okay ratio of fluff in it <3

There’s nothing to suggest he’s being followed, no out-of-the-ordinary sounds, no footsteps, no nothing. Doesn’t matter. Gavin has always had good instincts and right now they’re telling him that something, or someone, is stalking him. Glancing as far behind himself as he can through his peripheral vision means he catches the glimpse of movement before it’s too late. Gavin whirls around just as he’s pushed backwards against a tree and the impact is enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

A forearm keeps him pressed against it while he stares uncomprehending at razor-sharp teeth set in a half-finished face.

‘Oh, hell no,’ is what comes to mind and it’s through pure instinctive reaction that he manages to get a hand up between them and shove it as far into the android’s mouth as he can ‒ quick enough to keep it from sinking its teeth into the glands in his neck. He’d rather lose a few fingers than be bond-mated on first meeting like some omega bride in the twentieth century. His other hand is still free so he ignores the glowing eyes peering into his soul, and the curious gnawing over the digits he unceremoniously shoved in the android’s mouth, in order to find the glowing circle in the middle of its chest. Digging his fingers into the minute crack the thirium pump regulator slides into his hand with a muted hiss, strangely warm and disgustingly slick with thirium.

The android yelps, scrambling backwards, and releases Gavin’s saliva-slick hand as it falls down in a crouch. It stares desperately at the cylinder held aloft in the air. It jolts forward when Gavin squeezes it between claw-tipped fingers until it threatens to bend under the strain and render it useless, eyes are wide and sorrowful, the glow in them sapping away with every passing second. Gavin nearly feels bad for it.

“Why are you following me?!” he demands to know, pushing the thought aside.

It doesn’t answer, shifting in place as it continues to stare at him.

“You can have this back if you tell me.” Half-truths. The android merely curls in on itself, pressing the palm of its hand against its own throat. It mouths something but the dark plating making up the lower part of his face makes it impossible to see what. Then it clicks. “You can’t talk?”

It nods.

Maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise when the droid looks anything but finished. Gavin can see parts of its biocomponents pulsing a subdued red behind clear panelling mixed in with sleek metal in a colour so dark it’s nearly void. The upper part of its face has synthskin, including his upper lip, but everything below is made of the same black material. Its ears nearly blend into the raven hair on its head and Gavin can’t find it in himself to be angry at it. Clearly, it’s a lost ‒ and potentially broken ‒ thing. Not unlike himself.

Gavin tosses the regulator in the android’s direction and marches on. He has a job to do after all and tracking only gets harder the longer he dawdles. Almost immediately the feeling returns and he groans out loud. The time-limit forces him to keep moving regardless of his silent companion. His target already has a two-day head start and the moment Weiss crosses the border into Canada Gavin can’t do jack-shit to him. He jerks the rifle higher on his back and continues to follow the scent of old blood laid into the earth. Evidently the bastard isn’t worried about being followed so much as setting a fast pace despite his injuries.

When night begins to fall, the shadows lengthening around him, Gavin reluctantly sets up camp. There’s maybe another two days before he catches up and seeing as they’re about a three day’s march from the border he’ll be cutting it close.

The area he finds is partly protected from the elements and close to a stream of trickling water. “I know you’re there,” he calls while rummaging around his supplies to find kindling. There’s a rustle of the underbrush to his left and the hulking mess of an android appears at the edge of camp. It looks hesitant, almost skittish, where it stands. It makes little sense given how bulky the ‘droid is and how aggressive it behaved earlier. Clearly it should be able to hold its own going off design alone. Gavin returns to ignoring it after a last wary glance and swears beneath his breath when the wood won’t catch flame.

The android shifts into his line of sight and approaches slowly, like one would a vicious or scared animal. It stops again and gestures to the attempted fire, tilting its head in question. Gavin sighs. “Sure, why not,” he shrugs. “‘s not like you can do a worse job.”

Despite the less-than-friendly tone, the android visibly perks up. Gavin watches as it rearranges the collected wood with meticulous focus before stripping one of its fingers of plating and snapping off a few wires. The resulting electric sparks is what it uses to light the kindling. The fire slowly spreads over bark and wood until they’re engulfed by flames, cracking and popping in the still evening. Satisfied, it prods at the still-sparking wires with a finger, completely transfixed by the reds, oranges and yellows found in the flickering fire.

Gavin offers a crooked grin in thanks. “Wonders of technology. You need any help with that?”

The android shakes its head no, poking the wires back in place, before clicking the plating back where it belongs. It looks to be smiling slightly as it reluctantly gathers itself up to leave.

Gavin stops it with a hand on its wrist.

“You can stay.”

It’s basic human decency Gavin tells himself when he watches the android shuffle closer to the flames, hands outstretched as if to absorb its warmth. With the light’s help he can just about make out the serial-number etched into its chassis right over its thirium pump. “RK900, “ Gavin reads, “-that’s not one I’ve heard of before.” The droid turns to him and holds up one finger, turning it afterwards to point at himself. Gavin hums. “One of a kind then. I can relate to that.”

The android slides closer, looking up with a soft “go-on” like gesture that Gavin is helpless to resist.

He wakes up the next morning feeling as if everything has tilted slightly to the left and groggily gets himself ready for the day, rolling up his sleeping bag and kicking dirt over the fire’s embers, while RK stares at him with intrigue. They begin the trek not long after with Gavin wolfing down a protein bar in lieu of breakfast. RK frowns at him then, his brows furrowed severely, but it quickly turns to confusion when Gavin sticks his tongue out at him and picks up the pace. While they walk, he contemplates when in the previous evening he began referring to RK as “he” instead of “it”. There’s no doubt that the android is alive, for lack of a better term, animated and interested and latching onto every word of Gavin’s tales the way he used to do himself when he was younger and less jaded.

Gavin, lost in thought, doesn’t notice RK disappearing for a moment. His return is difficult to miss though since he presents him with a perfectly symmetrical trientalis europaea, its yellow core surrounded by seven white petals. A stark contrast to the black hands cupping it; delicate fragility resting in palms simply not made for such sweet blossoms. There’s excitement radiating off him, nestled in his glowing eyes, which doubles when Gavin asks: “Is that for me?”

The nod is quick as RK moves his hands an inch closer. Gavin takes it with a soft “thank you.” He looks at it for a moment longer and then takes his notebook from his inner pocket to place the flower there, snapping it shut and tying it with twine to really press flat. RK preens, turning his gaze bashfully to the forest floor, while Gavin pretends his cheeks aren’t flushed red.

When at last it comes time to make camp Gavin is pleased with their progress. “The scent of blood is more prominent. Even if he’s on scent blockers I can pick up smoke from the campfire. We’re getting close.”

His statement prompts an explanation about the reason he’s in the woods to begin with. The concern he shows upon hearing of Gavin’s chosen field of work is quickly dismissed with a: “I managed to bring you down, didn’t I?” which RK’s lips twitch at. He settles even closer to Gavin today, surreptitiously scenting the air between them, until Gavin asks him about it point-blank.

‘You smell nice,’ RK writes out on a torn-out page in Gavin’s book. ‘It’s what drew me in.’

“I smell like fuck-all while on blockers.”

‘Leather, coffee, something sweet like honey.’ It takes a moment before RK writes the next part: ‘You’re an omega.’

Gavin is still reeling when the last part of the sentence hits him like a punch to the gut. He takes his blockers near religiously, there’s no way RK should be able to‒

...but then the air around him floods with hints of metal and ozone. He’d smelled it before, when RK first came at him, but it had been absent since.

An alpha.

As soon as the scent envelops him it lessens again. ‘It’s hard to concentrate, to control myself, unless I turn that part of my programming off. Although, it means I have to get in close to smell anything.’

Gavin doesn’t know what to say to that, to any of it, so he remains quiet even if he doesn’t move away to allow RK to take in his scent as he pleases.

The weather dips dangerously in the late night and Gavin wakes up shivering. “Fuck, dammit,” he curses. Maybe he should keep moving. Catch the fucker earlier and finally get away from here. ‘Terrible plan,’ Gavin reminds himself as another shiver wracks through his body. Weiss is an alpha and as much as Gavin loathes to admit it, they are stronger than him. His strength is his speed and precision, dancing out of people’s range until they tire, or using his omega status as a lure. The last one wouldn’t help him here and the former only works if he’s well-rested and alert.

RK is just now stoking the fire. It helps, a bit, but Gavin is still feeling numb; fingers and toes hurting when he attempts to stretch them out.

“Hey, RK. C’mere a second.”

The android obeys without question, crouching down next to where Gavin has struggled into a sitting position. He places his hands against RK’s bare chassis to test his theory. There’s a low thrumming vibration beneath his fingertips and the metal is surprisingly warm to the touch. RK moves to clasp Gavin’s hands between his own and slowly rubs over them, keeping them covered while his chassis suddenly generates more heat.

Once they’re an appropriate temperature again RK moves to sit behind him. Gavin watches him, a question etched clearly into his eyes, but RK merely lays down, waiting and watching. Glacially slowly Gavin joins him on the ground and the android smiles shyly before turning his back on him. Gavin mirrors him once more, shuffling until they lie back to back, and both the warmth from the fire and RK enveloping him is a comfort he didn’t know he needed.

The morning after is filled with glances out of the corner of his eye, with the urge to hold RK’s stupid hand, and he wonders when he became so starved of touch, of someone showing the slightest bit of kindness to him, that two days are enough to want to pull RK down by his hair and kiss him senseless.

They catch up to Weiss a short few hours later and Gavin presses the rifle into RK’s hands as a safety precaution before throwing himself into the fight. It’s quick and dirty with Gavin using every trick in the book to gain the upper hand while dancing around the wildly thrown punches. Grinning through the rush of adrenaline Gavin eventually stops toying with the man and brings him down with a few precise kicks and punches. He locks handcuffs around Weiss’ wrists, arms behind his back, while Weiss shouts abuse and obscenities at him. Gavin pays it no mind, explaining with a sick sense of satisfaction that the cuffs aren’t coming off without a DNA signature from his friend and that running would mean a slow death for him left out in the elements. “Truth be told, I don’t care whether or not you’re still breathing when I bring in proof of your capture. I can afford to lose the difference in compensation.”

Weiss falls limp at that while Gavin slowly rises to his feet. When he looks up, remembering they’re not alone, RK is standing still as a statue. He stalks over, bearing a striking resemblance to a predator approaching prey, and presses right up into Gavin’s personal space to shove his nose into his neck and inhale. A rumbling noise is caught in his throat, a growl that has Gavin’s knees weakening slightly, as sharp teeth graze over his throat. Ozone and metal. Wicked claws not present before gripping his jaw tightly.

He reaches up to stick his thumb in RK’s mouth, pressing it down on his tongue with narrowed eyes. RK pricks it with his fangs and laps at the drop of blood with his tongue, all the while keeping eye contact. It makes Gavin squirm, just a little bit, and he’s thankful the heat suppressors keep him from getting wet or the walk back would be uncomfortable to say the least. With a graze of his teeth, RK loosens his hold and puts distance between them again, eyes dark and wanting.

Weiss tries to run about two thirds of the way back and Gavin sighs as he readies his reclaimed rifle. Turns out he never has to use it. RK’s head snaps up and he tracks the man’s erratic patterns for a second before giving chase. He’s practically a blur of movement and Gavin watches, transfixed, as he takes Weiss down in one graceful leap. The lack of being able to catch himself smacks Weiss’ head hard against the ground. RK doesn’t seem to care about the man’s dazed state as he drags him back to Gavin, his claws buried deep into the sides of his neck, hand cupping the back of it. He tosses him at Gavin’s feet and offers a razor-sharp grin, nudging the guy with the tip of his foot.

Gavin gives him a light kiss on the cheek for his help and can almost imagine the tail wagging behind him with excitement at the gesture of affection.

What doesn’t fit the crumbling infrastructure in the slums or the dingy office he rents for cheap is the well-kept lady in smart business attire standing next to him behind the desk.

Maurice Gacy, the guy they usually make business with, is a weasel of a man. His thin greasy hair and slimy smile fits his role of lowlife criminal perfectly. His side hustle of collecting bounties for the Guild is the only reason Gavin interacts with him, puts up with his leering and comments. Trust only extends so far between them but... all in all he gives the money owed and he keeps his mouth shut when talking to the cops which is all that really matters in the end.

RK tenses behind him, something Gavin senses in the clicking of his machinery, and Gavin frowns at the broad smile beginning to stretch over her face. “You found it,” she says lightly, walking in a measured pace while Gacy warily trails behind, heels clicking across the linoleum.

Gavin takes a step forward to meet her and bares his teeth in a snarl. “Back off.”

She nods sagely, uncaring for his hostility and lengthening canines. “Yes, of course. Money first. Always the same with you lot, isn’t it?” The node she produces from her fitted jacket flares to life and he stares, heart stuttering in his chest, at the very familiar face displayed.

WANTED

RK900, MODEL NUMBER #313 248 317 - 87

REWARD: 1.000.000 $

HIGHLY VOLATILE AND EXTREMELY DANGEROUS

PREFERABLE IF IT REMAINS OPERABLE UPON COLLECTION

Metal and ozone laced with a bitter tinge resembling fear.

A flower stuck between yellowing pages.

Viscous saliva and thirium dripping from his hands.

Whatever RK’s crime can Gavin truly bear to have more of his blood on them when it’s sure to stain them always? The thought is on the forefront of his mind when RK walks up to stand by his side, resignation already home in eyes and slowly sapping them of light, and in that moment, Gavin has his answer.

His arm shoots out to block RK from moving further and slowly raises his chin in defiance. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

They’re all staring at him, RK with a mix of wonder and trepidation, so Gavin sets his jaw and forces calm into his voice. “You can fuck right off with that shit, he’s not the reason we’re here.” With a nod to Tina, she steps forward and shoves Weiss at Gacy. Thankfully he’s too much of a coward to pick a fight and transfers the agreed upon money to her before whisking Weiss away towards the back. Tina raises an eyebrow at him, bumping their shoulder together lightly as she walks out the door, and Gavin has never been as thankful to have her as he is right now when the unmistakable sound of an engine rumbling to life filters in from outside. “Come on, we’re done here.”

It’ll start a shitstorm, that’s for damn sure, but with RK leaning forward to peer out the front window as they tear through the streets, Gavin can’t find it in himself to care.

#allegedly answering asks #dbh gavin #gavin reed #dbh rk900 #rk900 #reed900 #dbh #detroit: become human #detroit become human #mini fic #my writing #is nines courting gavin in this to the best of his abilities?#yes absolutely #does gavin know?#debatable #he's both thick and thicc if you know what i mean

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icharchivist · 4 years ago

Text

A3 x Sleeping at Last

I have a fondness for the musician Sleeping at Last and i decided to have fun associating at least one of his song per A3 Characters. Under the cut are songs as well as some highlight lyrics to justify my choice. Some of them i feel more strongly than others so anyone with a comment is welcomed as well.

Thus here i go:

& Spotify playlist of all those songs in order if you want to go through it

Mankai Company : North

We will call this place our home, The dirt in which our roots may grow. Though the storms will push and pull, We will call this place our home. We’ll tell our stories on these walls. Every year, measure how tall. And just like a work of art, We’ll tell our stories on these walls. Let the years we’re here be kind, be kind. Let our hearts, like doors, open wide, open wide. Settle our bones like wood over time, over time. Give us bread, give us salt, give us wine.

Spring Troupe: From The Ground Up

It took me 27 years to wrap my head around this- To brush the ashes off of everything i love. Where courage was contagious, confidence was key. Right as rain, soft as snow, It grows and grows and grows, Our home sweet home.

We'll try to document this light, With cameras to our eyes, In an effort to remember What being mended feels like.

We're home sweet home.

Sakuya Sakuma : The Projectionist

When I was young I fell in love with story, With the eleventh hour, with the blaze of glory.

When hands are tied and clocks are ticking An audience convinced, we're leaning in, holding our breath again Just when we thought the game was over The music lifts and our dying soldier lives And we breathe a sigh of relief The theater lights dim and all goes quiet. In the darkest of rooms, light shines the brightest.

We’re leaving, we’re leaving our shadows behind us now. We’re leaving, we’re leaving it all behind for now. But even dust was made to settle And if we’re made of dust, then what makes us any different? I guess we give what we’ve been given: A family tree so very good at giving up When we’ve had enough. Though truth is heavier than fiction, Gravity lifts as the projectionist rolls tape. And it makes us brave again

Masumi Usui : Venus

At first I thought you were a constellation. I made a map of your stars, then I had a revelation: You’re as beautiful as endless, You’re the universe I’m helpless in. An astronomer at my best When I throw away the measurements.

I was a billion little pieces 'til you pulled me into focus. Astronomy in reverse, It was me who was discovered.

Tsuzuru Minagi : Page 28

Have you read the script? Could you picture it? ... is it worth the risk?

Here in the second act I'm living in repair. Strange how the heart adapts when its pieces disappear. And there, on page 28, I'm so tired of drying glue, I begin my grand attempt at building something new. Though I tend to write the epiphany more immediately, I guess I'm trusting that there's such a thing as elegance in dissonance. God, I'm skeptical of pulling scenes. Was it something that I said? was it something that I did? Please don't get me wrong - I still need your help As history repeats itself Here in the aftermath, I'm pulling at the seams. Strange how the heart adapts in the absence of routine. And there, on page 29, I find “new” and make it mine. But I can't help casting shadows on all I leave behind. Maybe I could afford to change a bit... Even let go of the reigns? Every torn out page was worth the risk Now that the stakes have been raised. So here in the final draft, I've given all I have. Strange how the heart expands in the absence of a plan. There's nothing left on the page, but I'm okay with that, For I found my resolution Was designed for stronger hands.

or Body

There's magic in our bones, A north star in our soul That remembers our way home. There's magic in our bones. No, I don't have a script for this. But I know the right words exist Somewhere, And I just need more time. I know, I know, I'm asking for the moon, But I must listen to intuition Believe me, I only want what's right.

Itaru Chigasaki : Pluto

I woke up from the same dream: Falling backwards, falling backwards ’Til it turned me inside out. Now I live a waking life Of looking backwards, looking backwards; A model citizen of doubt. Until one day I had enough Of this exercise of trust. I leaned in and let it hurt, And let my body feel the dirt. When I break pattern, I break ground. I rebuild when I break down. I wake up more awake than I’ve ever been before. Still I’m pinned under the weight Of what I believed would keep me safe. So show me where my armor ends, Show me where my skin begins. Like a final puzzle piece It all makes perfect sense to me… The heaviness that I hold in my heart belongs to gravity. The heaviness that I hold in my heart’s been crushing me.

Or East

I set out to rule the world With only a paper shield and a wooden sword. No mountain dare stand in my way, Even the oceans tremble in my wake. The tide is brave, but always retreats. Even the sand, it cowers under my feet. My kingdom towers above it all, While I sleep safe and sound in my cardboard walls. Now I bear little resemblance to the king I once was. I bear little resemblance to the king I could become. Maybe paper is paper, maybe kids will be kids- Lord, I want to remember how to feel like I did. So I draw my sword with the morning sun, I summon the moon as soon as the day is done. The clouds march on, on my command. Even the rain, it falls according to plan. The trees bow down and give their leaves. I humbly accept their offerings of peace. The years wore on and changed my heart, The leading role for a smaller part.

Citron : Noble Aim

Chances are we are the same, against the odds, against the grain We lean, like gardens toward light but we wait, Like evening for night, Don't we? Chances are we are alike, against what better judgement writes We ache, like children for love For a purpose worthy of such a noble aim as love.

Chances are we bruise the same; a family tree desperate for rain. A thirst only deserts know best. a hurt so at home in our chests. Call it stubbornness or bravery, To let our branches continue to reach, With such a noble aim, With such a noble aim as love. Every broken branch and loosened leaf that we've grown to ignore, Is now a part of something greater than before. Every nest that rests upon our limbs, Seeking shelter from the storms, Is a purpose worth being broken for.

Chances are we are the same, against the odds, against the grain We lean, like gardens toward light, We reach with all of our might For such a noble aim as love

Chikage Utsuki : Neptune

Pitch black, pale blue, It was a stained glass Variation of the truth, And I felt empty handed. You let me set sail with cheap wood. So I patched up every leak that I could, 'Til the blame grew too heavy.

Stitch by stitch I tear apart, If brokenness is a form of art, I must be a poster child prodigy Thread by thread I come apart If brokenness is a work of art, Surely this must be my masterpiece

I'm only honest when it rains If I time it right, the thunder breaks, when I open my mouth I wanna tell you but I don't know how

I'm only honest when it rains An open book, with a torn out page, and my inks run out I want to love you but i don’t know how...

Or South

Some truths, over time, can learn to play nice. Some truths are sharper than knives. Some truths we only see in the corners of our eyes. Some truths we wish we could hide. Some truths can save us, Some take our lives. Some truths are fire and some truths are ice. No matter what category you fit into, Truth’s got its sight set on you. If truth is north, then I am true south. I can’t figure it out- God knows. Always looking up 'Til my eyes give up. That’s how I lost touch of who I am and who I was.

Summer Troupe : Joy

The clumsy start of adolescence, The glue that mends our broken remnants, An overwhelming sense of reverence, It's a glimpse of light in a mine of gold. A silver lining spilling over, The rumor of buried treasure, The starting line of an adventure, It's a glimpse of light in a mine of gold. It's an afterglow, it's an echo Still ringing out in spite of me. It's the faint outline of the divine In the hiding place of my periphery. So I let go and in this moment, I can breathe. I can breathe. The countless stars we're sleeping under, It's the brightest sparks that we remember. When our eyes are closed, we still see embers, A glimpse of light in a mine of gold. It's a glimpse of light in a mine of gold.

Tenma Sumeragi : Three

Maybe I've done enough, and your golden child grew up Maybe this trophy isn't real love, And with or without it I'm good enough Maybe I've done enough, Finally catching up For the first time I see an image of my brokeness Utterly worthy of love

And I finally see myself, Through the eyes of no one else. It's so exhausting on this silver screen Where I play the role of anyone but me. I finally see myself, Unabridged and overwhelmed, A mess of a story I'm ashamed to tell, But I'm slowly learning how to break this spell. And I finally see myself. Now I only want what's real, to let my heart feel what it feels. Gold, silver or bronze hold no value here, Where work and rest are equally revered. I only want what's real, I set aside the highlight reel, And leave my greatest failures on display with an asterisk; Worthy of love anyway.

Yuki Rurikawa : Hope

There is hope in our eyes when we truly see each other Like the light of countless stars We are not afraid of the dark 'Cause there is hope in our hearts And every single beat, we feel it To the ends of the earth, our echo carries on We are sacred, we are strong, We are beautiful, we belong Please hear our unheard song There is hope in our voice when we listen to each other Barriers disappeared with every story told We are sacred, we are strong, We are beautiful, we belong Please hear our unheard song There is hope in our eyes, When we truly see each other We raise our flag, lift our voice This is our moment, We are sacred, we are strong This is our moment, We are beautiful, we belong This is our moment, We are worthy, we are true This is our moment, There are no borders from this view Please help us raise our flag There is hope in our eyes when we truly see each other

Muku Sakisaka : Daughter

I want to see your happily ever after, That you know in your heart that you matter, That you are royalty. This is your kingdom, This is your crown, This is your story. This is your moment, Don’t look down.

You’re ready. born ready, And all you gotta do is put one foot in front of you. Our ceiling is your floor, And all you gotta do is put one foot in front of you. If only you knew

Misumi Ikaruga : Seven

How nice it'd be if we could try everything? I'm serious, let's make a list and just begin What about danger? So what, what about risk? Let's climb the mountain before we cross that bridge! 'Cause I'm restless, For whatever comes next

How wonderful to see a smile on your face It costs farewell tears for a welcome-home parade A secret handshake between me and my one life: I'll find the silver lining no matter what the price 'Cause I'm hungry, For whatever comes next Let me tell you another secret of the trade- It feels like sinking when I'm standing in one place So I look to the future and I book another flight When everything feels heavy, I've learned to travel light But I want to be here, Truly be here To watch the ones that I love bloom And I want to make room To love them through and through and through And through the slow and barren seasons too

I feel hope deep in my bones... And tomorrow will be beautiful.

Kazunari Miyoshi : Nine

Who am I to say what any of this means? I have been sleepwalking since I was fourteen Now as I write my song, I retrace my steps Honestly, it's easier to let myself forget

Still, I check my vital signs, Choked up, I realize I've been less than half myself for more than half my life

It looks like empathy to understand all sides But I'm just trying to find myself through someone else's eyes So show me what to do to restart this heart of mine How do I forgive myself for losing so much time?

A little at a time I feel more alive I let the scale tip and feel all of it It's uncomfortable but right We were born to try, to see each other through To know and love ourselves and others well Is the most difficult and meaningful work we'll ever do

Kumon Hyodo : Intermission

I'm so tired but I can't sleep. My mind is full but I can't speak. Among the dust of the hard-to-reach, I'm stuck Right here, somewhere between side a and side b. I could call it compromise, or just an intermission. Some kind of consolation prize for the race I never finished. I want to turn these tired gears. I want to feel the follow-through, Some kind of equilibrium... Something to set my watch to.

I'm here, somewhere between victory and a white flag. Caught in this purgatory dream, I'm stuck. But I want to set the record straight, I want to retrace my every step. If I could just rewind all the tapes, Then maybe I'd find my loose thread. Call it a compromise, or just an intermission. Some kind of consolation prize, so close, but never finished. I want to turn these tired gears. I want to feel the follow-through, Some kind of equilibrium... Something to set my watch to.

Pluto works for him too

Autumn Troupe : The Sea of Atlas

We once felt safe, like no cure was needed. Our vocabularies had no room for “defeated,” But we grew up quick and became connoisseurs of it. There's a fine line, a fine line in between Our progress and our instability. We can't help ourselves but hunt for more. A design flaw? or the olive branch that proves the shore- The catalyst we've waited for.

Banri Settsu : One

Hold on for a minute, 'Cause I believe that we can fix this over time That every imperfection is a lie, Or at least an interruption Now hold on, let me finish, No, I'm not saying perfect exists in this life But we'll only know for certain if we try

The list goes on forever of all the ways I could be better in my mind As if I could earn God's favor given time Or at least congratulations Now I have learned my lesson The price of this so-called perfection is everything I spend my whole life searching desperately To find out grace requires nothing of me I... I wanna sing a song worth singing I'll write an anthem worth repeating I... I wanna feel the transformation A melody of reformation I hold it all more loosely, and yet somehow much more dearly 'Cause I spend my whole life searching desperately To find out that grace requires nothing Grace requires nothing of me

Juza Hyodo : Taste

I am alive, I am awake. I am aware of what light tastes like. The curtains drawn, the table's set, I wanna be, I wanna be, at my best.

I'm on my knees and only scratch the surface.

Out of the woods, out of the dark. I’m well aware of the shadows in my heart. I wanna feel, tectonic shifts; I wanna be, I wanna be, astonished. I wanna be astonished. So I propose a toast: To fists unraveling, to glass unshattering. To breaking all the rules, to breaking bread again. We’re swallowing light, we’re swallowing our pride. We’re raising our glass, ’til we’re fixed from the inside. 'Til we're fixed from the inside. We're nothing less than a work in progress. Sacred text on Post-It notes. We only speak of a world in pieces. Let's make a map of what matters most: Where every fracture is a running river. Leading us back to our golden coast.

OR Mercury

No one can unring this bell Unsound this alarm, unbreak my heart new God knows, I am dissonance Waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune

I know the further I go The harder I try, only keeps my eyes closed And somehow I’ve fallen in love With this middle ground at the cost of my soul Yet I know, if I stepped aside Released the controls, you would open my eyes That somehow, all of this mess Is just my attempt to know the worth of my life

Made of precious metals, precious metal inside

Taichi Nanao: Sadness

It feels like falling, It feels like rain, Like losing my balance, Again and again It once was so easy, Breathe in, breathe out But at the foot of this mountain I only see clouds

I feel out of focus, or at least indisposed As this strange weather pattern inside me takes hold Each brave step forward I take three steps behind It's mind over matter, Matter over mind

Slowly, then all at once, A single loose thread And it all comes undone

Where there is light a shadow appears The cause and effect when life interferes The same rule applies to goodness and grief For in our great sorrow We learn what joy means

I don't want to fight, I don't want to fight it But I will learn to fight, I will learn to fight 'Til this pendulum finds equilibrium

Slowly, then all at once, The dark clouds depart And the damage is done, So pardon the dust While this all settles in, With a broken heart Transformation begins

or Bright and Early

The sun comes pouring in. Filling glasses up with diamonds, Stirring where I've been But it's all trigger and effect. Dominoes at their best. In the end I'm told, It taught me everything I know. That the wreckage left behind, will somehow make me grow.

In the end I'm told It taught me everything I know. But when the fire took our home, I lost part of my soul. From the ground up I'll keep building houses into homes. 'cause if trust is ribbon, Then patience ties it in a perfect bow.

Omi Fushimi : Aperture

Happiness is somewhere I have been before- A blurry photograph that I have since ignored. I'll carefully adjust the aperture once more, Until I set the record straight. I'll brush aside the dim, make room for the bright. I'll be an editor, no, a curator of light. I'll let my better angels always set me right, Until I even out the score. Until I even out the score. God, it has been quite a year- I've lived a little bit and I've died a little more. I know that I've asked it before, But please let the scale tip here in my favor. What was once the sweetest melody I've heard Is now a memory reduced to little words. I'll tune the orchestra and play the overture, Until I pinpoint every note. Give me the heart of an archeologist, That I may dig until I prove that I exist. A subterranean cathedral in my midst, Where echos come to rest.

Sakyo Furuichi : Touch

When will I feel this as vivid as it truly is, Fall in love in a single touch, and fall apart when it hurts too much? Can we skip past near-death clichés Where my heart restarts, as my life replays? All I want is to flip a switch Before something breaks that cannot be fixed.

Invisible machinery, These moving parts inside of me Well, they’ve been shutting down for quite some time, Leaving only rust behind. Well I know, I know - the sirens sound Just before the walls come down. Pain is a well-intentioned weatherman Predicting God as best he can, But God I want to feel again, Oh God I want to feel again.

Rain or shine, I don’t feel a thing, just some information upon my skin. I miss the subtle aches when the weather changed, The barometric pressure we always blamed. All I want is to flip a switch Before something breaks that cannot be fixed. Down my arms, a thousand satellites Suddenly discover signs of life.

Azami Izumida : Anger

Like wildfire, it starts in my chest The silence grows louder, ringing out in my head

I feel the Earth shaking under my feet I feel the pressure building until I can't breathe And it takes everything

And it all spills out, reckless but honest words leave my mouth Like kerosene on a flame of doubt, I couldn't make it right

Alarms will sound, but it's too late for holy water now Sooner or later the fire dies down, I'll open up my eyes

And I'll try and find the image of God In mountains made of ash and clouds of smoke It's fight or flight, buried in my mind, It's fight or flight It keeps my mind cold

But I feel it break, With just one misstep down a fire escape And suddenly I'm someone that prays, a last minute man of faith But I'll leave behind miles and miles of jagged lines Upon the surface of the Divine, I wish I could set them straight

Say

they impose the endless fight to always be perfect it seems they have been chosen to be above the rest

but the contradiction stands between these perfect lives and the words that they've misread there was no reading say all the things that you really want to say the truest of forms will show finally you'll find your soul

Bonus: Sakyo & Azami: Uneven Odds

I once knew your father well He fought tears as he spoke of your mother’s health I guess a part of him just couldn’t return Forgiveness is a lesson he cursed you to learn As your guardian I was instructed well To make sense of God’s love in these fires of hell No I don’t expect you to understand Just to live what little life your broken heart can Maybe your light is a seed And the darkness the dirt In spite of the uneven odds Beauty lifts from the earth As the years move on these questions take shape Are you getting stronger or is time shifting weight? No one expects you to understand Just to live what little life your mended heart can You’ll always remember the moment God took her away For the weight of the world was placed on your shoulders that day You’re much too young now so I write these words down, “Darkness exists to make light truly count.”

& Heirloom

You try your hardest to leave the past alone. This crooked posture is all you’ve ever known. It is the consequence of living in between The weight of family and the pull of gravity. You are so much more than your father’s son. You are so much more than what I’ve become. Long before you were born there was light Hidden deep in these young, unfamiliar eyes. A million choices, though little on their own, Become the heirloom of the heaviness you’ve known. You are so much more than your father’s son. You are so much more than what I’ve become,

You pressed rewind for the thousandth time When the tapes wore through. So you memorized those unscripted lines, Desperate for some kind of clue:

When the scale tipped, when you inherited, A fight that you were born to lose. It’s not your fault, No, it’s not your fault, I put this heavy heart in you.

You remind me of who I could have been, Had I been stronger and braver way back then. A million choices, though little on their own, Became the heirloom of the heaviness we’ve known. You are so much more than your father’s son. You are so much more than the wars you’ve won. You are so much more than your father’s son. You are so much more than what I’ve become.

Winter Troupe : Homesick

Our resignation only comes on beaten paths When the world was flat we dreamt of its edges If love's elastic, then were we born to test it's reach? Is it buried treasure or just a single puzzle piece? It's poison ivy beneath our brave and trusting feet All revelations come to us in recovery Cry wolf, cry mercy, Cry the name of the one you were raised to believe Cry heart, cry yourself to sleep, Cry a storm of tears if it helps you breathe It helps you, if it helps you breathe

Or Hourglass

We're taking turns at shattering apart. At least we're taking turns. How did we get so good at dismantling these hearts? How did we ever get so good? We dress our best to receive their sympathy. At our worst, we dress our best? “time heals all” According to these greeting cards. Oh how we'd rather time resets. If we could turn the hourglass, we would. If we could move a grain of sand, we would. If we could find our way back, we would.

Tsumugi Tsukioka : Clockwork

There is glass between our touch, phantom limbs of former love... and the truth is that I am so terrified that the callous is deeper than the surface of our skin. and it takes us twice as long, it takes us twice as long to heal. we'll lift up the ground to see the system of roots beneath. gears turn, endlessly, to bring the world back to life like clockwork, when it dies. the cadence of beating hearts, the click of its moving parts grows louder and louder from this restless earth... future gardens wait patiently below and somehow we smell them blossom through the snow.

still unsatisfied, we chase what we're denied. as generations wait, we can't resist the taste of possibility. gears turn, endlessly, to bring us back to life again. like clockwork, we begin.

Tasuku Takato : Porcelain

The door broke when you slammed it shut, and the cracks kept reaching long after you left. through the floorboards, branching towards the hall, like vines that never rest... climbing like fire through the walls. a single spark that claims the whole forest - I know, I know... it's all for the best. but honestly, I would rather be safe from a distance than here... when I fell to my knees to sew the damage shut, I couldn't believe... a bright, staggering light came flooding into me from out of the seams. so I reached deeper in and pulled my whole world wide open, and for each broken mile, a billion miracles happen at once in everything... in everything. but I'm safe from a distance, right here. everything I love was made of porcelain, ready to break. but the bright, staggering light, it anxiously waits inside. like nesting dolls, the secret hides. and like every birth, it was a necessary pain... I know, I know... it's all worth the wait, worth the weight.

or Accidental Lights

On your mark, get set... A million miles past the finish line My heels lift at this imaginary starting line. The trigger slips; My heart was racing well before it's time. Time's running out, it's always running out on me, As the road up ahead disappears. Though it's all been said, and this empty dictionary is all that's left, I'll try to change the world in a single word. My hands are shaking, ready or not. Invisible ink well it's all I've got. So I'll concentrate and pick from these barren trees. Time's running out, it's always running out on me, And every road I discover disappears under my feet - Some call it reckless, some call it breathing. Have i said too much or not enough? Is it overkill or is it giving up, To measure out the distance of an echo's reach? If it's all broken mirrors and a chance roll of the dice, Then I'll risk everything for a glimpse of accidental light. Time's running out, it's always running out on me, And every road I've discovered disappears under my feet - Some call it reckless, I call it breathing.

Hisoka Mikage : Smell

Is this the part when the brain scans show where memories reside? Some ambiguous shape in me suddenly producing light Triggered like a tripwire, every time I breathe it in Isn't it strange that a Lilac tree is what unlocks where I've been? Like a time machine rebuilds the past, our memories return Like remembering the ashes before we burn

It finishes against my will, the light goes out, my heart goes still And just like that, I believe in ghosts

Time and space are at my back, Performing disappearing acts Now I can escape the smell of smoke Research says that the only way to keep memories intact Is to lock 'em away and close the doors to countless years of past I guess that explains why the strangest things can conjure up the past And forgotten time will find its long way back

It doesn't matter, I just know I need more Cause I feel like I've been sleeping through the better part of this Laying dormant through an endless winter that doesn't even exist

It's gravity in an hourglass, responsible for the avalanche And the loudest silence that I've ever heard Memory clear as a bell, A story that I will try to tell Maybe this time without words

Homare Arisugawa : Four

Maybe I'm hiding behind metaphor Maybe my heart needs to break to be sure One day I'll wear it all on my sleeve The insignificant with the sacred unique But I've fallen in love with a ghost I lost my balance when I needed it most And this blurry photograph is proof Of what I'm not sure but it feels like truth I'm stuck swimming in shadows down here It's been forever since I came up for air Flashlight in hand determined to find Authenticity only poetry could even begin to try to describe

What if we already are who we've been dying to become In certain light I can plainly see a reflection of magnificence Hidden in you, Maybe even in me

or Son

Show me Who I am and who I could be Initiate the heart within me 'til it opens properly

Slow down Start again from the beginning I can't keep my head from spinning out of control Is this what being vulnerable feels like? And I will try, try, try to breathe 'til it turns to muscle memory I'm only steady on my knees One day I'll stand on my own two feet And I'll run the risk Of being intimate with brokenness Through this magnifying glass I see a thousand finger prints On the surfaces of who I am

Azuma Yukishiro : Two

Tell me, is something wrong? If something's wrong, you can count on me You know I'll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat It's okay if you can't find the words, Let me take your coat and this weight off of your shoulders

I know exactly how the rule goes Put my mask on first No, I don't want to talk about myself Tell me where it hurts I just want to build you up, build you up 'Til you're good as new And maybe one day, I will get around To fixing myself, too I don't even know where to start Already tired of trying to recall when it all fell apart I just want to love you, to love you, to love you well I just want to learn how, somehow to be loved myself

Or Six

What would it feel like to put this baggage down? If I'm being honest I'm not sure I'd know how I want to take shelter but I'm ready, ready to fight And somewhere in the middle I feel a little paralyzed But maybe I'm stronger than I realize I wanna believe - No, I choose to believe That I was made to become a sanctuary Fear won't go away but I can keep it at bay And these invisible walls just might keep us safe With a vigilant heart, I'll push into the dark And I'll learn to breathe deep and make peace with the stars Is that courage or faith to show up every day? To trust that there will be light, Always waiting behind even the darkest of nights

Guy : Mind

First, the ground rules get established: Memory is historically inaccurate. But repetition, repetition sings 'Til finally the melody is sacred, rooted, unchanged.

It overwhelms the nervous system, This fearful constant state of comparison. In our grey matter, all grey matters. An embarrassment of riches in our heads, We gravitate to black or white instead. We were designed to send mixed signals, One image made up of different pixels All subject to interpretation. 'Til binary systems, binary systems run And the vibrancy of everything becomes zeros and ones.

Patterns form and feel important, It's the first brush stroke of a self-portrait.

#'i'll slap relevent lyrics' *slaps 90% of the lyrics for some*#anyway i am posting it before i'm starting to doubt my picks but yeah #some i feel stronger about than others #aNYWAY #ichatalks about a3 #ichablogging music #a3 #a3!#a3! act! addict! actors!

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airiustide · 4 years ago

Text

If I Could (I’d Kiss Your Fingers)

A Water Witch Tale

Summary: Taking place after Katara returns to the Fire Nation to stay with her new family, Zuko wants to give her a gift as a way to show how much she means to him. With Izumi's help, father and daughter pick out the perfect chocolates for Katara. Meanwhile, Katara works on something precious of her own. Part of the The Water Witch Tales

A/N: I asked myself if I wanted to do a additional piece for The Water Witch of Biei Village or write a Valentine’s special fic? My brain: por que no los dos? I've wanted to write more about this zutara family since ending The Water Witch of Biei Village two years ago. My hearts been set on it and today was a perfect.

also posted on AO3

***

“Chocolates. Chocolates. We’re going to pick chocolates!” Izumi sang, skipping around several staff entering the Fire Lord’s study carrying gold trays of serve ware covered with lids.

Zuko shoos them in, peering from left to right outside the study until the confectioner himself is the last to enter and Zuko can now close the door behind him. “Quickly, lay them there.” The Fire Lord points to the long table stationed in front of the open balcony doors. He grabs a hopping Izumi by the waist and swings her over his shoulders, eliciting a squeal. “Calm down, love. We’ll get to try them all, I promise.”

“Then we give to Mommy?” The four-year-old grins, panting from all the excitement.

“Then we give them to Mommy.” Zuko confirms, reflecting his daughter’s smile.

Zuko had been considering the perfect gift to give Katara after she had returned, after having forced the captain of the airship that was supposed to take her home to the rural lands of the Fire Nation countryside to turn around. It was a moment of joy and tears. Katara proclaimed Izumi her daughter without asking anything in return other than to care for the Fire Nation princess as her own. Any attempt at giving Katara jewels or expensive dresses were turned down. Katara’s humble rejection was sweet but was leaving Zuko a little deflected.

He wanted to impress her. The one kiss wasn’t enough and they talked little of it since then despite Katara’s return being well over a month ago. It was then that Izumi brought up how Katara had never eaten chocolates before, a discussion brought up while the waterbender did the nightly routine of brushing her daughter’s hair.

It was then the idea sparked in Zuko’s head. Chocolates. No one could possibly turn down chocolates. A simple yet desirable candy.

Once the trays are laid out, the confectioner snaps his fingers for his staff to remove the lids. Zuko lifts Izumi off his shoulders and sets her on her feet, the little girl’s bright gold eyes looking at the great display of chocolates laid before her in wonderment. “Wow.” She breathes.

“Only the best chocolates in the whole Fire Nation, your majesty. We’ve traveled all this way per your request from Ember Island. May I present my finest work.” The confectioner, Chou, bows.

Zuko and Izumi approach, stopping at the first tray sitting at the left end of the table.

“The first I’d like to present is a common treat. The bark is made from milk chocolate, quite sweet, I warn, but much lighter than the typical chocolate.” The confectioner explains.

Zuko breaks a piece for himself and Izumi to try. “Hmm.” The Fire Lord hums, finding his jaw lock from the overly sweet candy. “What do you think, princess?”

“It melts in my mouth!” Izumi exclaimed. “But too sweet.”

“Of course. This here, is a truffle.” Chou points to the second plate. “Though, today we’ll try many of these kinds of chocolates, this one’s a dark ganache blended with a touch of champagne.”

“Mmm.” Izumi sighs, popping the truffle in her mouth. “I like this one.”

“That’ll go in the yes pile then.” Zuko chuckled, nodding for one of the confectioner's staff to put the tray aside.

The young Fire Lord had to admit, the amount of it all was too much. Some portions had to be given in small doses to prevent a stomach ache. Izumi was so eager to try them all that the first six or so trays resulted in tossing handfuls into her mouth. Not so much because she wanted to eat them all, but because it was so important to her that Katara had the best.

Cordials, hazelnut, rum, caramel. It was all so delightful. It was not only a means to give a gift to share with someone they loved but the father/daughter time they had lost when Izumi had fallen ill was made up with a simple moment such as this.

There was still more to go. Zuko deemed it unnecessary to try the rest when his daughter’s face became smeared with chocolate and her eyelids began to flutter. They had already settled on three flavors, some which will be boxed prettily for the master waterbender; passion fruit, mint, and champagne.

“Good choice, your majesty.” Chou compliments. “The lady will surely be pleased.”

“Hmpf.” Zuko frowned. Chou would not be saying that if he knew that Zuko planned on gifting the chocolates to a waterbender. The Fire Lord was ashamed to admit that his people viewed waterbenders as conjurers of magic, they’re dwindling race created stereotypes and rumors far beyond what the truth actually beheld. “Do not worry, she will. Thank you for your journey to the capital. You will be highly compensated and even more in the future if Katara wishes for it.”

“Of course.” Chou bows, snapping his fingers for his staff to collect the leftovers and head out quickly.

“Someone’s sleepy.” Zuko turns to Izumi, sweeping her in his arms and cleaning the chocolate off her face with the sleeve of his royal robes. She had gained some weight since her lungs healed, no longer the tiny thin figure she once was when he had thought he was on the verge of losing her.

“Mm...not sleepy, Daddy. I want to see Mommy.” The princess looks over at the neatly boxed chocolates sitting on the long table. She couldn’t sleep yet. She had carefully selected everything for her mother, Izumi wanted to give them to her now.

“You will after a nap. Then, we will see Katara.” He coos, watching Izumi finally close her tired eyes as he holds her gently in his lap while he proceeds to sit in his cushioned pillow so that he could continue his work.

***

This is starting to feel like a distraction. When Kioko had shown up at Katara’s chambers that morning with an urgent request that required them to head to Caldera’s marketplace, the waterbender felt as though she had no choice but to oblige. She wished to see Izumi, if not for a little bit, before her and Kioko departed but the head healer demanded that they make haste.

“What, exactly, is it we’re looking for?” Katara questioned, looking around the busy streets with the older woman’s arm linked to hers.

Guards surround them on all sides, a apparent perk the master waterebender wish didn’t come with officially adopting Izumi but Zuko would have it no other way. His argument, that people were against her legal adoption of Izumi albeit Katara knew the real reason- it meant Zuko was not willing to remarry. Every unmarried noblewoman and Zuko’s advisors made that clear with a single glare directed at her alone. It did not matter that Izumi was a living, healthy heir now. No, they needed more security than that, and marrying a Lady within the Fire Nation meant ensuring this.

Kioko assured Katara that they were jealous nobodies that only dreamed of getting close to the Fire Lord if only to benefit from him.

“Zuko would give you the world.” Kioko told her once, the two ladies held up in Katara’s room with wine and light chat. “He would bow to his knees for you, if you would permit him, and proclaim everything that is his, is yours.”

That came as a surprise to Katara, yet it made sense considering that she had healed Zuko’s daughter from certain death. She ignored that small whisper in her head that Kioko’s statement meant something deeper. The waterbender brushed it aside.

“I thought we might do some shopping. I haven’t seen my poor husband in months since his travels and I want to present him a gift when he returns next week.” Kioko answered her question.

“Are you not the gift, Kioko?” Katara smirked playfully.

“Oh my heavens. That is only between me and the captain I call husband.” Kioko winked. “We had missed our anniversary this last winter and I wanted to surprise him.”

“Sounds easy. What does he like?”

“Hmm, well, I was thinking I’d fashion up a new robe or maybe purchase new cuffs for his uniform. Oh, and while we’re here, why not get something nice for his majesty” Kioko said the last sentence so fast, Katara barely caught it.

“Zuko?” Katara whirled her head. “Oh. I guess I never did anything nice for him before. He did take me out that one time, after all.” A deep blush surfaced on her cheeks and Katara bit her bottom lip from smiling. She remembers where Zuko's hands were. His sultry voice and his low breath that tickled and teased her skin when he had openly flirted with her. The way his eyes glazed over when she had danced with him.

Kioko raised an eyebrow at Katara’s sudden silence.

“Yes.” The waterbender cleared her throat after noticing the head healer was staring at her. “A gift. I see no harm in buying one for him.”

That’s what you believe. Kioko smiles, knowing full well Zuko was caught in Katara’s web and the poor girl had no idea what power she had over the Fire Lord. He loved her and she, likewise. The old woman hoped they’d realize it soon or else she would have to resort to locking them in the same room together, if it meant finally professing their feelings.

The problem was, what does a Fire Lord like that he doesn’t already have? Yeah, Katara had enough to buy a pretty solid gift for someone of her status but Zuko was head of a nation. Katara didn’t have anything to her name that would remotely impress him.

“Child, you’re thinking too hard.” Kioko interrupts her thoughts.

“Am I? I’m not exactly feeling confident here.” Katara panicked. “S-sorry I snapped like that. I don’t think anything here would be to Zuko’s liking.”

“That’s because you’re thinking of his status rather than what he is as a person. His majesty wasn’t as sheltered as you think. He’s traveled the world, he’s encountered struggle and defeat and when the tyrant, Lord Ozai, dies within the third year of Lord Zuko’s banishment and his daughter was seized for his death, Lord Zuko was called back to take his place as a mere child himself, marry, and raise a daughter on his own after his beloved’s death. He’s more humble than he lets on and we have the former general to thank for that.”

Iroh. Zuko often talked about him. “I know he’s like a father to Zuko. I didn’t mean to insult Zuko.”

“You did no such thing, dear. I wanted to remind you that his majesty is more than just a leader. He’s a man and a father first. Look to that when you go about searching for a gift for him.”

Katara halts, a large grin stretching on her lips. “I’ve got just the thing. Kioko, we need to stop at a few places.”

***

Where is she? Kioko refused to let Zuko visit Katara’s chambers, stating that the waterbender was busy and that she would meet them for dinner as soon as she was available. Izumi whined that she wanted to see Katara now and her impatience was starting to weigh on Zuko, who had to try and entertain his daughter as best he could until her mother arrived. They had taken dinner to his chambers this time, so that he and Izumi could give the present to Katara in peace.

Zuko had asked that Kioko distract Katara while he and Izumi snuck in the confectioner and his staff, he had no idea that they would be gone well into midafternoon only for Katara to run back to her room and shut herself away with so much as a greeting.

“What has Katara holed up in her room?” Zuko asked during dinner.

“You’re majesty, I’m afraid this is an important time for Master Katara. She will see you and Princess Izumi as soon as she can.”

Something’s fishy. “You aren’t withholding anything from your Fire Lord, are you, Kioko?”

“You’re majesty.” Kioko feigned shock, resting a hand on her chest. “You would not use your position of power to pry personal information regarding your dear daughter’s mother from me, would you?”

Zuko’s good eye widened, his cheeks blushing profusely. “I- No. Of course not.” He grumbles, finding his food unappetizing because the anxiousness was eating at him. Izumi, the same, poked her steamed slug with a heavy sigh. Katara hadn’t gone a day without being next to her. Had they truly grown that attached?

The three are disturbed by the sound of the door opening and the master waterbender entering the room. “Late-” She pants, her wild hair loose over her shoulders and pieces of random fabric stuck to her dress. “Didn’t mean- I’m here now.” Katara smiles while she gains her composure.

“Mommy!” Izumi cried, jumping from her seat and rushing to her mother’s arms. “What took so long? I missed you.” Her voice trembled.

Katara felt guilty. Izumi had already been through enough when Katara left, she didn’t quite think through how a long separation might affect her again. “I’ve missed you too, love, and I’m here now.”

“Come here, come here. Daddy and I have something to show you.” Izumi pulls her mother along.

“Really now?”

Zuko grips the box in his lap, licking his lips to hide his nerves as Katara sat next him, her arm brushing his arm as she places Izumi on her lap. Agni, give me strength, he prays.

“What’s that you got there.” Katara leaned into him sideways, the box shaking in his hands.

Why was he nervous all of a sudden? Zuko’s throat swelled up, his palms were sweaty.

“Me and Daddy got you a gift!” Izumi replied.

“A gift? For me? Zuko, I thought-”

“I know.” He said, finally mustering the courage to speak. “But this is different. Please accept it, Izumi and I worked really hard to select them for you.”

They both gave her pleading eyes. Spirits, how can she resist such cute faces. “Okay. Can I open it?”

Zuko hands the box to her and Izumi claps excitedly as Katara pulls the ribbon and lifts the top half of the box to reveal something she’s never seen before. “What are these?”

“Chocolates!” Izumi giggled.

“They’re edible sweets made of cocoa.”

Katara eyes the pieces curiously. Unsure of where to start. “They’re all so different.” She comments.

“Here, Mommy, you’ll like this one.” Izumi picks out a passion fruit, lifting it to Katara’s mouth.

Her eyes sparkle as she takes her first piece, her taste buds overtaken with a mix of passion fruit, chocolate and white chocolate. It’s decadent but the flavors are pleasant. “Spirits, that's delicious!”

“Hehe. See, I told you she’d like it, Daddy.”

“So this is what you two have been conspiring this whole time.” Katara teased the Fire Lord.

“We only wished to do something special.” Zuko explained sheepishly.

“Well, this was certainly special.” Katara smiles.

“Why don’t you try the other flavors.” He suggests.

“Only if you guys eat them with me. This is certainly a lot.”

Katara pops one into Izumi’s mouth first. “Your turn.” She says to Zuko.

His heart throbs in his ears. Before he could protest, Katara presses a piece of chocolate to his lips and he reluctantly opens, enclosing it in his mouth along with Katara’s index finger and his brain short circuits. As he chews the piece he can only assume is mint, refreshing much like Katara’s presence, her fingers still lingering on his lips; they’re gazes stayed only on each other.

Zuko leans in slightly, drinking in Katara’s face as she bites the corner of her lip. She likes the look he’s giving her- heavy, glazed and adorning. She wants to see more of this, more of him looking like her just like this. “Do you want more?” She asks in a whisper.

“Well, this has been lovely.” Kioko announced, catching the Fire Lord and Master Waterbender off guard, shame written on their faces. “I’ll take my leave. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

It takes a while for the heat to die down in the room and the tension to fade before Katara tells Zuko she has something for him too. “For both you and Izumi, in fact.” She reaches for the pouch attached to her sash and opens it, fishing out two weaved bracelets with charms on them. “It’s not much but I thought of you two and I wanted to make something that would always be with you.”

“Pretty.” Izumi brightens. Katara ties the bracelet to her wrist, three little charms dangling from it; one of the moon, the second the symbol of the painted lady and the third a sparrowkeet.

Next was Zukos, which Katara delicately tied to his wrist as well. The first charm was of two dragons tangled in a dance, the second a replica of the carved stone on Katara’s necklace and the third the mask of the blue spirit.

“It was all done at last minute, so it’s not perfect-”

“It’s more than perfect.” Zuko corrects. “Thank you, Katara.” He wraps an arm around her neck and brings her to him, planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Mine is perfect too, Mommy! I want to kiss you too.”

Katara laughs, puckering her lips and letting Izumi peck them. The waterbender then snatches Izumi to her chest, displaying kisses all over the little girl's face as Zuko does the same until she begs for her parents to stop in a fit of laughter.

I love you. Zuko wants to say. The moment passes, he realizes, watching Katara rock Izumi in her arms with pure love in her eyes. He’ll tell her. Someday.

#zutara #zutara fanfiction #fanfiction #zuko x katara #zuko #katara #izumi #firelord zuko #zuko and katara as parents #zuko and katara #fanfic #the water witch of biei village #if i could(I'd kiss your fingers)

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cutegirlmayra · 6 years ago

Text

Ember Commission Receipt

@marydragneell commission for another continuation of Ember the Immortal Wolf series - The Fire’s Scourge.

Time: After hearing what was desired for the chapter, I began researching and plotting points together. Then I wrote about 44 pages for the overall story. It has been through one round of Author edits before the rough draft was presented to the customer.

Review: OMG I FUCKING LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, I LOVE IT, I LOOOOOOOOOVE IT AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH. Ember is the right amount of badass and sassy, but at the same time just perfect with the jokes. Protective sibling shadow🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤 And manic just awesome and want to be flirty and affectionate 💚💚💚💚but since the bro is there he just try to not show it XD. That part was so cute and hilarious at the same time XD I think it’s my favorite part of that chapter, shadow being like " wtf is going on with those two". Like always its perfect ^^ - @marydragneell

Note: I love you too, Mary! ^^ It’s always fun writing for you and Ember! You’re so sweet and I always work hard so I can see your happy comments. You’re adorable, my friend!

Paid amount: 50$ (This price was offered by the Customer, I’d like to thank her for her generous decision. ;//wn//;)

Product preview (ROUGH DRAFT ONLY, with permission fo the customer):

The Fire’s Scourge.

Commission for the lovely Marydragneell

By: Cutegirlmayra

Dear Manic,

Your song lyrics are so funny, not everything has to rhyme or sound like a poem. But I appreciate it, it’s great to read. I’d rather hear it though! Or at least sing it! When do you plan to visit me? It’s gets boring here sometimes… especially when Shadow bosses me around about being all ‘responsible’ and ‘acting my age’. I’m the same age as him! I was even created before him! I’m practically the oldest… anyway, I’m grumbling on paper, haha! Send me a mix-tape sometime and don’t be afraid to write back. I enjoy these letters.

I enjoy scrapping my claws against the thin paper as I write to you.

Sincerely, The most epic wolf you’ll ever know! Ember

P.S: Ember is easy to make songs out of, try and be more creative next time!

It was the last letter she had written Manic… before the letters stopped coming.

Ember lightly made sure her claws wouldn’t crease too much of the paper, deciding to write another letter in hopes he may respond this time. Like he used too…

The letter folded neatly into an envelop as Ember sealed it with a lick. She held it close to her face, letting it touch her nose as she excitedly withheld herself from getting her hopes too high.

Again…

She had been pen-paling Manic The Hedgehog, Sonic’s brother, for a little while now. Ever since Rouge gifted her a writing kit, trying to make peace with her since they sometimes had to work together, she’d been writing him back and forth like this.

She hopped down from the G.U.N HQ’s desk she was at and went to put it in the mail chute when Shadow stormed up to her.

“Where were you?”

His voice sounded annoyed, not like his normal, causal brooding…

“I was… um…” she hadn’t told Shadow about her little crush…

He looked at the letter in her hands, but she quickly stuck it in her tail and smiled nervously to him, “I’m just writing Santa!”

“Hmph.” He shot air out of his nose at her humor. “When are you going to start-“

“Acting my age?” Ember rolled her eyes, “Get to work? Be nice to Rouge? Hang out with people? I thought we were passed this already, I’m a grown woman! Let me live my life!” she folded her arms before exaggerating her independence, “I do jobs for G.U.N, don’t I?”

“Speaking of which, there’s been a portal breach near where you’re supposed to be patrolling.” He glared her down, seeing her trying to wiggle the letter out of her fluffy tail and get it in the mail chute.

When she saw him staring, she pretended she was just wagging her tail in excitement.

He pinched the middle bridge of his nose, “What am I to do with you?”

“Love me?” She moved back a bit, not sure if he’d find that funny.

His look certainly showed he didn’t.

“If you’re not going to take this mission seriously, I’ll go myself.” He grabbed what looked like a brown, dirtied cloak with rips all throughout it, but Ember immediately reached forward, grabbing a bit of it.

“No!”

“No?” he pivoted, “What do you mean, no? I thought you were ‘enjoying your life’?” he seemed to be spitting the same wording she had used in previous discussions right back at her.

Ember sweated a bit, seeing how angry he really was at her, but realized he was trying to cut her some slack. “You’re a good brother, Shadow. Whether you want to be or not.”

He raised an eyebrow, but she slowly began to tug the cloak off of him.

“And you do make a valid point… I need to prove I can handle this. You’re always worried about me-“

“-And for good reason.” He fully faced her, his tone full of distain.

She gulped, folding the cloak in her arms and continuing as she draped it over her arm. “B-but that’s why I’m going to show you I can do it! I’ve done big missions before, I can do some recon too.” She stood confidently, placing the cloak back on the hanger and tugging her own tighter onto her back, flexing it forward. “Trust me a little, I won’t let Eggman kidnap me again!”

Shadow’s eyes turned softer then, his shoulders going limp.

“Sonic said you passed out, turned insane again… how can I-?”

“I do reckless things, but most of the time, I’m only trying to make you proud.” She took his hand, shaking it lightly. “And do what’s right.”

“…Do you even comprehend what’s right?” He muttered the sentence out, but worried about her maturity level…

It was more tender a question than she had realized, and she quickly was caught off-guard.

Not wanting to continue the topic further, feeling a bit of hurt by those untrusting words, she let his hands go and tried to look chirpy.

“Well, brother. I promise to at least try and not get into trouble… of my own accord… if I can… deal?” her inputs made it all the more unbelievable.

He shook his head but conceded with a shake.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt…”

“I won’t!” She embraced him, knowing he wouldn’t embrace her back but still.

Shadow flinched at the touch, but relaxes after a moment, knowing this is just how Ember shows her affections.

She only gave hugs like this to him, anyway.

He was about to put a hand up to her head, attempting to reciprocate some family love before Rouge intervened, flying down with a sweet smile on her face.

She stretched her wings out a moment before retracting them back behind her. “Aww… look at the cute little siblings… finally getting along?” she teased.

Shadow quickly turned his head and hand away. “Ugh…”

Ember released him and glared at Rouge, sticking her tongue out. “You ruined our moment!”

“Oh? Did I?” Acting innocently, Rouge placed a finger up to her mouth. “Hadn’t noticed.” She winked, being playful. “Shadow, command wants to know about that portal…”

“Ember’s on it.” Shadow looked over his shoulder at her, and then back to Ember. “I hope.”

“Hope is enough!” she waved him off and dug through her tail, getting the letter she stashed out and dumping it in as quick as lightning.

“What was-?” Shadow peered down the mail chute but Ember was already booking it away.

“Bye, bro!”

“Wait! Ember!” He called after her, but she had already raced out.

“Wild one. How ever are you going to tame her to be a good little soldier like ourselves?” Rouge put her hands together and struck a very fake pose, she was clearly mocking the fact that Shadow was in charge of Ember’s training.

He sighed, still watching where she had run off too. “Sometimes… I worry I don’t know her full strength… as well as I pretend too.”

“You of all people should know her best. She doesn’t hide anything from you.” She walked up next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, showing more comradery than teasing now. “To her, you’re family.”

“…She is the only thing I have to an actual family.” He muttered out, as though admitting it aloud for the first time.

“Oh my! What a declaration.” Rouge took her hand off him and covered her mouth, but smiled at his tender comment. “Such a softy under all those quills…”

“Hmph.” He moved away from her, trying to signal he was done talking but she flew off after him anyway.

“Do you know who she’s writing with my little present?”

He froze, looking back at her.

“Someone who may be close… but differently, compared to you.” She fluttered her wings and took off, giving him just enough to drive him crazy with questions.

He openly showed his teeth, frowning deeply. “At least she has a friend… that’s what she meant… wasn’t it?”

However…

Below where the letters are delivered, a few shadowy figures lurked. One suddenly caught the falling mail and tapped it against his shoulder, opening it up and pretending to barf. He shredded the letter and snickered, writing his own back with a click of a pen.

“Hehehehe… Dear Manic… Get lost.”

The other shadowy figures snickered a moment.

The mailman came and the new letter was sent, as the old one’s remains drifted down in steady, shredded pieces…

“And now, boys… let’s go catch a spark of flame~” A devious voice spoke through the darkness, and the gang all raced out to follow Ember’s figure disappearing into the woods…

----

Ember couldn’t remember much, which she wasn’t used to with such a profound memory. She could only recollect something hard had struck from behind, knocking her out pretty hard and leaving her mostly unconscious. Now, as she woke up, she noticed the jerking of a brown, dirtied bag squishing and bobbing her between mysterious footfalls that carried her in the bag.

“She’ll probably have portal-lag. Might as well set her down here till she wakes up.” The voice wasn’t familiar to her. It wasn’t from Sonic or from his gang, so she figured she was just kidnapped.

‘Kidnapped!?’ she plugged her mouth immediately after thinking that awful thought. ‘No, no, no! I just told Shadow I wouldn’t be kidnapped! Ohhh! Now I’m mad!’ She squirmed a bit in the tight space, her tail taking up most of the free space. ‘I’ll thump’em! I’ll trounce them! I’ll- I’ll-!’

“Are you mad?” Suddenly, she did pick up on a voice. Her bag was gently lowered and she could feel the swinging weight of her body finally rest upon cold ground.

Was that… Sonic?

Was this a joke!?

“We have a powerful entity on our hands… I just want the fiery babe to feel comfortable enough to not burn the whole place down to smithereens!” His sudden tone change,… that sarcasm,… the joke about the portal-lag…

Was she in another dimension?

“Tsk. I don’t see why you’re so fixated on chaos power again.” Another voice spoke out a grumbly tone, feminine this time. But…

Could she maybe..?

She tried to wiggle her finger around the opening of the bag, seeing if her claw could get the band on the bag a few more inches loose.

“…You don’t get it?” Sonic’s voice turned dark again, and she flinched a minute as her ears tried to adjust to the strange rhythm it had. Sonic was always full of life, vigor, and general velocity in his actions and words to match his quick feet. This… couldn’t be Sonic.

She felt a shift and the bag toppled over. Ember had to keep silent but could feel a breathy ‘yelp!’ escape her lips just barely. She instinctively plugged her mouth again, and quickly.

“What do you think I’m running here, Fi? You worthless Destructixs are in this for me. Got it? We broke out of jail for the sole purpose of lighting this world on fire with my iron fist pounding it into submission! To light the world… we need a match.” Ember could hear a fist pound into something, probably the other hand, but felt the shift in atmosphere… as though eyes were on her.

‘Light the world on fire..?’ She thought a moment, ‘Destructixs? Where have I heard… Ah!’ Ember suddenly recognized this speech pattern wasn’t Sonic’s at all! She remembered perfectly the name, where she had heard it too. Immediately, she decided she couldn’t—No, wouldn’t stay quiet and hide forever!

She had faked her unconsciousness to get information, but now, she was getting impatient.

‘Gerald Robotnik created me for good! To defend! I know who these guys are now…’ She flexed her claws, getting ready...

It only took a moment of further silence before the bag was shredded in seconds, and Ember rose up with a quick swipe toward where Sonic’s voice had previously come from.

“Scourge!” she cried out, “You rascal!”

“Woah. The kitty’s awake.” He smirked, stepping back to dodge her assult before tugging on his black, flaming jacket. “Boys?” he gestured to the gang as Ember’s arms were thrown behind her.

“Pfft. Who thinks they can hold me down—Ohhhhh…” She struggled a moment before turning her head around to look up at a large, imposing figure. “A big boy.”

The extremely large and tall giant growled down at her, at least, that’s how she saw him.

“Simian, make sure our guest knows her place.” He began to walk toward what looked like a stone throne. Around Ember was a large, black and blue stoned castle, or the remains of what looked like one.

She was able to fight a bit back and get her arms almost away from her back, but Sgt. Simian’s strength was certainly a match for her.

“Okay… Not so easy to break out of.” She grumbled, disliking the change in the situation.

“Stone, babe.” Scourge tapped the stone beneath them, looking at her over his shoulder. “Want to have a go at making this place light up?” he teased, moving over to his throne and sitting rather reclined in it. “Welcome to my realm. Not much. But all mine.” He put a hand up to his chin to rest his head on, “Well… anymore.” He snickered as the rest of the team seemed to chuckle back.

He motioned for the rest of the gang to come forward. “You know how hard it is to track down a little firefly like you?”

Ember spat on the ground, “Call me a firefly one more time…” she tried to resist being dragged forward from behind, her feet scuffing at the stones below her, but there was no traction strong enough to withstand Sgt. Simian’s brute strength. He basically dragged her towards Scourge at his request like a vacuum cleaner across a rug.

“Tsk. Like I care!” Scourge responded, watching as she was pushed forward towards him.

In protest at being man-handled, her feet began to spark against the stone, but no fire was produced.

‘Shoot!’ she thought to herself, ‘I’m surrounded! And on top of that? I’m not even in my own realm! Guess back-up’s out of the question…’

“You think we have time for a new carpet? This place is fireproof, baby! Hahaha!” He leaned his head back and laughed and laughed.

“Whoo… I have to hand it to ya. You’re one hard dame to find…” he clapped a little with his hands, as though congratulating her and rubbing some ‘tears’ out of his eyes after his such a good laugh. “Had to send every mercenary I could intimidate on the hunt for you. Glad you remember me though.” He winked.

“So… I was kidnapped, I’m in a different world, and you’ve sent spies to figure out where I was. Am I missing anything?” Ember raised an eyebrow, being rather composed as she relaxed. She was hoping it would make Sgt. Simian’s grip on her arms loosen, at least let his guard down, but that didn’t seem to be the case…

A red fox walked up to Scourge, turning around to face Ember and folding her arms, clearly not liking the other girl’s presence. Ember assumed this was the girl he called ‘Fi’, simply because she was the only girl in the group. So? Deduction stands that she must be the feminine voice she had heard previously...

“Show some manners and don’t directly talk to the king.”

“Wow. You even got her playing pretend.” Ember snapped a quick line back as the girl tensed up, her tail flicking in rage but Scourge just raised a hand.

“Feisty, feisty, feisty… I like it. But you’d do well to remember what situation you’re in.” he took his raised hand and leaned forward, snapping. “Snap!”

Suddenly, there was a harsh spark of pain in her arms. Ember was lifted up in a painful hold as Sgt. Simian held her suspended in the air.

Her eyes flinched, but she kept any grunt or utterance of pain at a minimum.

“Aaaaannnddd… Hold for dramatic effect… Snap!” Scourge reclined again and snapped, having Sgt. Simian put her down again.

Her arms twitched under the uncomfortable position, and she swore a few jerks would have had her shoulders pop out of their sockets.

“Do I have your attention now, little spark?”

“It’s Ember.” Ember gritted her teeth. “And when Shadow finds out what you’ve done-!”

He suddenly rose to his feet, “I’ve defeated Shadow! And Sonic! At the exact same time!” he swiped his arms out, growing annoyed. “Don’t you dare think you can threaten me!!!”

“Tsk.” Ember emoted, not seeming to have known that before. She sweatdropped, nervous now if Shadow could even jump realms… ‘Maybe I should have laid low a little longer…’

“Scourge.” A hawk stepped forward, as though gently reminding his leader of his purpose.

“Hmph. I know!” Scourge dismissed the comment, swiping a hand at him, “In my own due time!”

He turned back to his throne, “As you recall, I was trying to lure out Sonic through a staged ‘setup’ if you will…”

----

It was a vivid memory—though Ember’s memory never failed her anyway. No matter… how hard she would try and forget.

Scourge had run into her vigilante G.U.N attire, not having fully recognized her as she continued to foil his criminal activities of trying to seize control over the world. Sonic and his friend would naturally call upon the Freedom Fighters to put a stop to his plans, but this time was different.

G.U.N had actually assigned her to stop a village fire,…

Little did she know it was a trap.

The citizen’s screamed in terror as wood and falling debris littered the skies, their homes and city collapsed around them in the flames.

Their city was deep within a crater formed in the earth, with sharp, jagged cliffs encircling them. There seemed to be a drainage system in place for floods, but for some reason, the drains had been clogged and the fire had no where to escape too. If they tried using water to put out the massive fires, which started up sporadically in different locations, then they would be trapped within the crater.

What made matters worse is that the fires had burnt the electrical powers, so even their way out was blocked besides long, carved stairwells which would be too dangerous for a mass of panicked people to scale in an efficient manner.

So what was Ember to do..?

“Help! Someone!” A woman cried from within a building as Ember quickly leaped up and scaled the tall skyscraper with her claws.

“Haaannnggg ooonnn!!!” she ripped through the flaming surroundings and grabbed the woman, rushing down and helping her to safety. “Does anyone know who started this?” Ember set her down lightly as the woman frantically turned around, wanting to aid as much as possible now that she was out of harm’s way.

“They called themselves ‘Destructix’. They said-“ as the woman began to cough and mutter, a voice suddenly rose from the flames atop a hill.

“Too bad! Looks like Blue didn’t have time to save any of you. Guess you’ll just burn straight to the underworld then!!!” A figure stood looming above on a cliff. He looked like a light green hedgehog with bright sunglasses, having the city’s flames dance in their shades, tugging on his jacket. He flicked his wrist as a few other figures came up: a monkey, red fox, frog, dog, hawk, and wolf. They stepped ahead of him and poured what looked to be gallons of gasoline down onto the streets below.

Like a skillet having oil poured on it, firing up everything for a split second of pure horror. The flash blinded the citizens as the heat swept their breaths up and burst the rest of their hope they had at survival.

People shrieked as he smirked, turning away before Ember’s rage couldn’t contain itself anymore.

Her fingers twitched, head pulsed with trauma as she saw children rushing away from the quickly moving flames…

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”

She couldn’t control it. It was too much on her heart.

The cursed emerald pulsed, cloaking her in a bright white as her eyes covered in pitch black smoke that rippled along her eye sockets. In this hysterical super form, she covered herself in chaos energy and burst through the trailing gasoline.

It was like an arrow through water, she would thrust one hand out and burning gasoline would splash out of her way onto the buildings and away from the cowering citizens. One hand at a time, she propelled herself through the streets. Her power turned the flames into nothing more than burnt oil stains against the city’s skyscrapers, extinguishing them as fire swarmed her being. With enough force, she had spared the majority of the city while they continued to evacuate. Some had burns, but it looked as though no one had died, miraculously.

“B-Boss!” The shaking hand of the Wolf gestured behind him towards the powerful streak of Ember’s power charging like a swift beam of light towards them.

“…Hmm?” Scourge turned around, his glasses suddenly shining with the light she was emitting as he strode back up to the edge and peered down at her. He smirked, his eyes completely consumed in the image of her magnificent flaming display of power and skill.

She scaled the ledge, climbing in a ferocious tantrum towards them. Below, people cheered and huddled close to their loved ones, scaling the escape route out from their precious homes now destroyed to mere ash.

Some of Scourge’s men got ready to fight, but he rose a hand up to stop them. “Wait!” His sharp teeth glistened when his tongue licked over their dry frames. The chaos energy and the flames left a streak of dry wind, smoky to the smell, and excited Scourge for a moment.

“Well, well… I think I remember you.” He backed off, “We’ll meet again, little spark!” he then escaped in the nick of time, just before Ember ripped through the skyscraper in her way, leaping straight through it, and landing off into the mountain’s cliffside. She attempted to pursue him in her fury, but his buddies and him had portal capabilities, and were gone without a trace.

Ember huffed and puffed, standing away from the fires still licking at the lightly fuming city before she collapsed and gripped her head. “How could… How could people like that still exist..? I thought… G.U.N was the only organization capable of being so cruel… I’ll find them. I’ll stop them no matter what it takes!!!” Ember’s oath was never forgotten, but she hadn’t found a rumor about the mysterious Destructix’s since.

----

So while Scourge finished his recollection of the story, Ember was still locked inside her own perfect memory of the event. The smoke that rose from that black pit… the reports of missing individuals that some witnesses say they saw escaping up the stairs… the families being left with nothing but soot on their faces and half-burnt clothes on their backs…

Scourge didn’t seem to notice her shaking pupils, but did see how quiet she was, staring off at the ground as she began to realize what a mad man he really was.

He took off his sunglasses, his eyes widening in glee. “That power was something else, babe. Mind telling me why you’re not summoning it now?”

She flicked her nose up, ‘Is that what he’s after?!’ and looked away. ‘At first it was to find Sonic… but now he might do something horrible like that… to find me.’ She couldn’t bare to think about it, biting her jaw tightly shut as she tried to hold in her rage. ‘What… what awful things did he do while he searched for her instead of Sonic..? Was it her fault..? That more people were hurt by his crazy, terrorist attacks?’

“Playing coy?” He teased, jumping down from his throne and walking over to her, standing by her side and checking her out. “That power’s not asleep, is it? Hate to wake it up…”

His threats fell on deaf ears, which she twitched to show her ignorance of his roaming eyes…

Her tail maneuvered itself between Sgt. Simian’s legs… waiting for a good opportunity…

“I remember how you looked, sweetheart. Covered in the light of flames and spouting oil this way and that.” He gestured with his hands, flinging them out left and right to show a live demonstration of her feat. “You almost made me think you cared for all those people down there…”

She growled.

After seeing his eyes light up at her reaction to him, she forcing her mouth shut again, but she refused to let him taunt her.

He wanted a fight, but she wouldn’t give it to him.

He put his glasses back down over his eyes, his smirk fading slightly. “You’re not one to talk back or pick fights, are you? Caution is the most annoying trait, babe.”

Ember sighed, “You want my power. That’s annoying in and of itself too.” She lowered her head, playing into the ‘I give up’ motive and waiting for Simian to drop his guard.

She felt his hands loosen with her bending body and knew the moment wouldn’t be too far off now.

Just a little longer…

“Well, yeah. I find it hot.” He suddenly lurched forward, straight at her face. It startled her, but he reached directly at her chest and grabbed her emerald, sticking just slightly above her shirt as she felt the Master Emerald’s power suddenly rejecting it, inflicting Ember’s essence with its powerful, pure chaos energy.

“AHHHH!!!” she flung her head back as he poured some of his chaos energy into her, causing immense pain as the cursed emerald seemed to be repelled when it wanted to fight back and defend itself.

“Hahaha! So it is cursed!” Scourge kept his grip tight, laughing as the fox girl saw where his hands were and quickly grew defensive.

“That’s enough, Scourge!”

Her jealous burst made him stop laughing, turning to look at her with a frustrated expression as his hand released Ember.

She fell to her knees, taking a moment to recover from that torture before she felt Sgt. Simian’s hand let go of her, now holding her with one. He did so to avoid falling with her, since he was much larger than her anyway.

Now was the time, she just needed her strength first.

“Fiona, baby, I’m working here.” Scourge began to walk up to her, seeming calm but Fiona knew his act all too well.

She stepped away a moment, seeing him immediately grow hostile and grab her neck.

He screamed in her face, dipping her down and gripping her to him, hollering down her throat. “Don’t interfere!”

When he let her go, she fell and coughed, clutching her sore neck before pointing towards Ember, “She’s nothing! You’ve seen me take down stronger foes than her! Let me fight her! I’ll prove how useful I can be-!”

“Pfft. Save it, toots. You and I both know little spark’s far more devastating than some freaky kung fu moves.” He waved her off, making Fiona look down and slam her fist to the ground.

“She’s the freak with the moves… I can do it. I can beat her if you’ll let me just-“

“Quiet!” He swiped an arm out, silencing her again. “You’re getting on my nerves. Take a chill pill and walk, Fi!” Immediately, as though understanding the context of his words, some of his men came up behind Fiona. She looked behind her, getting upset as she struggled and glared to Ember.

Ember didn’t have anything against the girl, besides that she followed a lunatic, but the look she gave her made Ember feel even more irritated.

Fiona shook off the men’s arms and got up, silently walking away with the men, clearly having some resolves.

“Hmph. Women, am I right?” he folded his arms and then looked back to Ember with a joking, sinister smile.

Now!

Ember tripped up Sgt. Simian, wrapping her strong tail around a leg and pulling him back to fall down behind her. He was already bending over to keep one hand on her, it was his own fault for thinking she couldn’t recover fast enough.

She got her arms back and pounced towards Scourge, raising a clawed hand up. “HAAA!!!”

“Oh! Something interesting!” he chimed, jumping back and out of her way as her claws dug into the concrete of the old castle, near his throne.

The stone bricks flew out of place and crashed all around, tink, tink, tinking onto the ground as rubble and chalky dirt launched everywhere into the open air.

Scourge wiped his mouth of the grey dirt and readied himself, looking thrilled at some violence. “Finally… I was thinking you were just gonna lay down for me, sparkz.”

“Ember.” She growled.

“Right, right. Well, you either have two options. As far as I see? It’s join me-“ he flicked off some rubble that was sticking to his shoulder, “Or death.”

Ember also got into a fighting position, summoning all her strength she had regained from resting a moment to her hands and feet.

“And it’s not really a request…”

Ember felt her power soar through her being, the cursed emerald still pumping chaos through her in a means to recover after that last attack.

She flung her arm out again, but it was a feint. Soon as he tried to dodge, she gripped the ground and swung a foot into his stomach.

“Offph!” She watched him recline back from the pain, his lips pushing forward at the intensity of the hit.

“Heh.” She had the advantage and wouldn’t let it slip away! “Here’s a taste of my power you want so badly! Have itttttt!” she roundhouse kicked, knocking his head back but he lifted an arm up to grab her other leg as she circled for another blow and threw her down.

Quickly getting back up, she saw his hands come together and slam down on the concrete where she had just rolled away from.

‘This is gonna take more than strength…’ she recognized that his strength was equal to that of her powered cursed emerald. He must have been powered by the Master Emerald too… but how?!

She didn’t have time to dwell on that. She wanted to prove, not just to herself but to Shadow too, that she could complete a mission on her own!

She summoned some power to her chest and filled her claws with chaos energy, making them grow out like beams of light. “Try dodging this, don’t underestimate me!” She leaped up and feinted a swipe as though about to cast Shadow’s Chaos Spears.

It worked. Scourge recognized the familiar motion and went to dodge what he thought was the onslaught of chaos energy spears, but she pushed off the wall nearest to her, her eyes twitching, ‘There! An opening!’

She kicked off the wall and threw herself fully at him, “Haaaa!!!!” she slashed his already permanent scar with fresh new claw marks across his chest.

“Agh!” he was blasted back, the pulse from her Chaos Claws sending the cursed emerald’s power through his body and having it repel his own stolen Master Emerald power.

The two didn’t mix well, the power kept blasting the other back, but at least she knew she could push him back if she summoned her power faster than he could counter it.

He still had that advantage… but for that moment, he wasn’t using it at its full potential. Even Ember could see that…

She landed a bit away from him, watching him grip at his chest. He seemed surprised to see no blood. “The damage was more to your energy.” She slowly rose up, the power in her claws fading as she returned to her usual twitch of sharpening her nails. “But I still got’cha…”

Indeed, she saw the wounds reopen on his chest, only a little blood oozed out but just enough for Scourge to look down and see the delayed reaction.

His face shifted to lines of anger stretched up from the dip in his narrowed eyebrows.

As though refusing to let loose his full power just yet, his energy subsided and he just looked back up at Ember, fixated on her form.

“Interesting…” he licked his lips, getting up. “Very interesting…” he still held his chest, some blood on his glove now, but the bleeding would stop momentarily as the chaos energy began to reform again.

She disengaged and stepped away, feeling the power in her claws slowly dwindle. “Tsk.” She kept sharpening them as sparks flew around her. ‘His attack on me from before weakened the cursed emerald… I can’t do what I normally can now… is that why he so directly attached the Master Emerald’s power to it? By doing so, he probably knew it would cripple me somewhat… I’ll have to play a bit of a waiting game to get my lost power back.’

She smirked.

‘Perfect. I’ll keep him talking…’

“So? You really think you’re going to somehow get me to join your little uprising?” She decided to play along, swishing her tail and moving back as to lure him up and think she wasn’t going to strike anymore.

“Heh… do you really think me that stupid?” He growled. She could feel his own chaos power recharging, and knew he was probably adopting the same strategy.

“You’re lucky, you know… I haven’t even begun to fight!” he suddenly let loose a Chaos Blast, shattering the ground and exploding outward as Ember couldn’t react fast enough to block against it.

She was blown into the wall, crashing hard against it and getting a headache when she landed back to the ground with a hard thump!

She groaned, trying to sense her surroundings again when a foot was pressed on her back, keeping her down.

Then… she felt a hand move through the back of her hair, gripping some strangled strings as smoothly as moving through water. But then her head was ripped back, forcing her to turn toward him.

“Erk!” it hurt like none other, but she could hear him shifting his muzzle through her hair, pulling her head back to lean and press against it.

“My, my… Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?” he mocked with an alluring pleasure to his voice. “I’m not.”

“Back off!” she threatened, flailing a moment but his touch never wavered.

“You’re so enticing, Ember… like a warm fire that burns anyone who dares to touch it.” His words hissed in a pleasure-seeking tone that made her uncomfortable. What was that? Some sort of intimidating praise or actual flirting?

From back in the front of the castle, the gang watched on, having all scattered back after that fight.

They knew when not to intervene with Scourge, but Fiona couldn’t contain herself.

She lurched forward, only to have a hand grip her shoulder and the frog shake his head. This time she gritted her teeth, seeing how they all weren’t keen on Ember, but wouldn’t dare disobey Scourge again.

She held silent reservations, but looked on and held herself back. “I hate her…” she mumbled.

The rest of the team sighed in tense pockets of air, letting them go gradually. They seemed to be silently agreeing with her.

Maybe this girl was more a problem than a useful pawn…

“You know what’s crazy good about you, Toots?” Scourge smelled her hair in a deep, creepy whiff. Ember reached her hands back to get him off her hair but he gripped her wrists and spun her around, pinning her on the ground.

“Ack!” she felt the cruel stone scrape against her back. Her clothes survived the Chaos Blast, but some of it had ripped somewhat.

“You know what..?” He moved close to her face, his fangs skimming her forehead as his tongue taunted her eye.

It was disgusting, she twitched her eye and finally turned away, giving into some fear deep inside herself.

“After I broke out of jail for the hundredth time… I decided, hey, wonder how my dear emotionally distraught castaway was doing.” He pulled back and winked. “Found you again… a dog to those goody-two-shoes, and it’s been sparkz ever since, Cinder~”

“Ember.” She growled, as though cursing loudly, she tried to push against his strength.

For a moment, it was working. She could feel her power returning to her, inching him off little by little and getting her hands to lock in his own and steadily push him away.

But he only smiled, watching her struggle must have looked like a game to him.

“Whatever. Still on fire.”

“Ugh, What is?”

“My heart and your body, babe.”

She rolled her eyes, “I’ll make a fire in you, alright… one that burns you to a crisp!” she started to summon her own Chaos Blast, struggling under him.

However… his head jerked down and his fangs gripped her emerald.

“Ack!” she blushed before another huge wave of the Master Emerald’s power shot through her and electrified her body. “AHHH!!!”

Again, Fiona could not remain still, so as she went to leap forward, about to call out his name when the rest of the Anti-gang grabbed her and pulled her back, covering her mouth.

“Tolerate it.” the Lynx threatened. “He’s only getting what he wants.”

Her eyes were green with jealousy, but her face was red with anger and revenge.

Scourge let go and Ember collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily as it felt her entire insides had been fried.

“Ever since you raged from that burning town,” He wiped the spit off his mouth, letting her go and looming over her. “I’ve always had the hots for ya.”

She coughed and breathed heavily, sliding herself out from under him and leaning against the stony wall. She gripped it for support, rubbing her imbedded cursed emerald before gathering enough strength to speak again. “Me? Or my power?” she turned back to him, playfully folding her arms, faking that she was fine.

“Boo, it’s all in the same body.” He lowered his sunglasses down to get a better look at her. “What’s the difference?”

He must have called her bluff, because he moved right back where he was, pinning her against the stone and letting his nose skim her muzzle. He whispered, “What to do… what to do…” As though taunting her feeble state. “What ever should I do to you first..?” he smirked, looking back at her.

Ember ignored the power-plays, quickly changing the subject and trying to restore her strength back, struggling to push him away again. “My power isn’t me. I-I mean… I’m more than my abilities!” Her head rolled a moment, feeling nauseated from the two chaos powers conflicting each other.

“Sure, sure. But my abilities could send you to a whole new world…” He gave her a suggestive eyebrow movement.

Ember couldn’t let him just toss her around like a ragdoll! No matter how much his chaos power repulsed and diffused her own… she would have to fight!

Ember chuckled, trying to still play cocky as best as she could, even if she was stuck against a wall and a madman. “I’m already in another dimension.”

“I know, right? Exciting, isn’t it?”

He suddenly let her go.

It was then that Ember felt her body fall back to the ground. Was she unable to keep going?

She tried to slide her feet under her, but they skid back to being weakly shaken upon the ground.

She began to panic. ‘No… No-no-no, get up! You can’t let him win!’ She was growing more and more anxious and worried, but he just watched her face as her internal struggle grew more and more dire.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Someone can’t admit when she’s beat.” He chuckled right back, turning his head a bit upside down to get a better look at her. She hid her face and he gripped it with his hand, forcing it back into view and up to look at him.

He stroked with his pinkie the side of her cheek, still humming a bit of gleeful victory before flicking his head, flirtatiously. “Join me and we can have a bonfire later tonight~”

He moved dangerously close to her lips, “You and me… no sounds but the constant cries of you wanting more…”

She gagged. “Do you honestly think girl’s fall for that?”

Fiona had been taken away, pushed against another wall by her comrades, her fierce rage rising with each sentence she heard from the other room. She gripped at her captors backs and threatened to scratch and peel their skin off, but for her sake, they didn’t let go. “Sorry, not into ‘green’ fads.” Ember spat out.

“Ouch.” Scourge’s smirk was replaced quickly with a frown. “Touchy, touchy.”

“You seem to be.” Ember tried to bite at his wandering hands, but he pulled them back, apparently turned on her by actions as his eyes widen with intrigue.

His head perked up, and he mimicked a cat’s ‘rawr’.

“Ohhh… look who’s talking back. I like you.”

“Clearly…”

“Only… my love’s a little conditional. Pricey as it seems, I’m a man of material desire.” As he slipped a hand around her waist, she punched him back, summoning everything into that blow that forced him away.

“Grrk!” he gripped his eye, where she had punched.

Ember rose up and began to deal more hits, taking him off-guard as she spun and whacked him with her foot, leaving him prone before diving onto him with her knee, continuing the onslaught.

As though summoned by the sudden shift, the Anti-gang pounced and let Fiona go.

“W-what!?” Ember was tackled down, fighting for her life again as the Anti-gang began to beat down on her, protecting their so-called, ‘king’.

When they moved away, Ember was left utterly beaten and weak. Bruises forming along her muzzle and arms now… The only visible ones, anyway.

“Y… You cheated.” Ember stated, gritting through the pain as she crawled to try and get back up again, but was failing miserably. “I overpowered you… overcame… I would have won if-!” she was kicked across the room by Fiona, leaving her rolling along the cobble floor. “You… played fair.” She finished her sentence, but at what cost? She gripped her stomach and got up to her knees, panting as Fiona’s face looked like seconds away from murder. The Anti-gang turned to Scourge, who was getting up with a wobble in his step, gripping a hand over his eye.

“I’m starting to lose patience with you…” he muttered under his breath. “You say you don’t like green… but I know a certain hippie drummer boy you tend to write through G.U.N’s mail delivery service..! Too bad most of those letters don’t always end up in his hands…”

Ember was confused at first, not understanding before her eyes widened. “Are you talking about..?”

He didn’t let her finish, “I’m not one to be jealous, honestly. Only possessive. Which brings me back to my earlier demand…”

Suddenly, the Chaos Emeralds floated out from behind Scourge’s flowing jacket, revealing themselves as they gently swayed in a circle around his body. He approached his throne but stopped, turning his head back to her with another evil look of desire and pre-victory gloating.

“I want you… but all of you.” He turned back around and spread his arms out, the emeralds stopping their turning and remaining still… his presence was extremely intimidating, and Ember could feel she wasn’t at full power yet… The healing would need more time!

‘He knew about Manic? What else did he know!?’ She couldn’t continue on like this. Her panic was reaching its maximum capacity. She could feel the Cursed Emerald wanting to retaliate with the dark madness she knew all too well. ‘He knew how to reverse the Cursed Emerald’s power onto me… He knew about G.U.N, Shadow… what else is he hiding up his sleeve?!’ she felt the world caving in on her. ‘Shadow… Sonic… Manic…’ she closed her eyes, remembering her dear friends she had collected along the way. ‘What if they can’t save me..? He clearly gathered and stole all the Chaos Emeralds from our world… he’s… so powerful now. He can trump me at every turn!’

She looked to his team, slowly withdrawing with a sick sense of gloating in their boss’s power, staring at her and waiting for him to deal a finishing blow. ‘I… I can’t do this, can I? Shadow was right…’

Then… a letter returned to Ember’s memory.

Those words…

“Won’t happen.” She suddenly felt a courage spark in her.

“I won’t let you win.” She felt her fist tighten. The words her friend wrote her sang in her ears now, the last letter she had read from Manic…

Dear Ember,

What’s up? Sorry I haven’t written in a while! I hear it’s been pretty rough for you. Shadow sounds a bit like a downer, man. In all honesty, you gotta keep your head up. No matter what rain falls in the summer, it just turns to snow in the winter, and then a pleasant shower in the spring. I guess that’s super poetic, heh. But you like that kinda stuff, right? Anyway, what I mean is, don’t let things that seem hard keep you down. You have a really unique spirit, Ember. Kinda like your name, you’re a spark to the flame. Riding and gliding, you’ll always be the same, but evolve toward your name. Ember, Ember. Spark and shine. Embers and cinders, lighting the night! It’s hard not to write lyrics for ya, I know you laugh at me when I do, but it’s so easy for me to get inspired off of ya. You must be some kind of muse to me. Is that okay? Whatever, I’m not a very good letter writer, but I hope you know…

You aren’t just the embers, but the spark to the flame.

- Manic The Hedgehog

Her head reared up, his lyrics giving her strength as her heart pumped rapidly and her power swiftly returned to her.

“You want to see fire and brimstone?” She blasted her energy out, her super form taking effect again. It would cost her this time… but for once, she felt her mind just a little more clearer—it peeked through the haze of crazy power, and gave her the confidence to remain calm.

“We’ll see about that.” Scourge’s evil, scheming smirk reappeared. He lowered his eyes, attracted to her rebelliousness but also trying to not get frustrated again. “I’m not very patient.”

“I’m not very outspoken, and yet, here we are.” She smirked back, unwilling to be intimidated by his confidence. She proved she could beat him once. Time to do it again…

“This time, I’m going to push you around!” She took a few steps forward, her power sucking away at her now, like one last shot of adrenaline to end it all or be ended herself. “I’m speaking out against your bad fashion sense.” She egged him on.

“That’s it! I’ve put up enough with this! I’ll just take you here and now!” he blasted a deep purple, much like her Cursed Emerald’s power. His chaos had turned negatively charged and dangerously unstable.

At least she had some practice with being an uncontrollable mass of destruction.

“Bite me.” She threw her hand out, spiking out artificial chaos claws a few inches ahead, glowing purple in radiance once again. Her white form and black eye-sockets fanned like a raging fire, waiting for him to come at her.

“I’ll try!” his smile turned devilishly crazy, as though it was blood-hungry now.

The two clashed in what looked like an array of lights, flashing and blinding the other Anti-gang members as they held their arms out to shield themselves from the aftermath. The force tossed them back and around, skidding on their feet to avoid falling back.

“They’re gonna kill each other!” One of them shouted out, but it was hard to tell who with the constantly clashing lights that blinded their sights, and the rapid whipping of force pounding them in different directions as Ember and Scourge duked it out with everything they had.

“Dang it, Scourge! He’s going to take the whole fort down with him!” That one sounded as though it was Fiona, but before anyone could say anything more…

There was a large explosion, blasting the stone walls as Scourge shoved stones off of himself. He looked enraged, huffing and puffing a moment, wiping some blood off his chin.

“Heh… heh… Okay, doll. You’ve got my attention.” He breathed as though exhausted, bruised up and singed in different locations on his fur. “That power has a kick to it. Mind if I take a bit of it?” He shot up through the air, “Or how about all of it!?”

He rocketed down to Ember who had let her super form take over her actions. Though she was conscious and aware of herself, her reflex was stronger than her mind could keep up with. It was the ultimate instinct, a great offense to his aggressive—and unconcentrated—attack style.

She was battered and bruised though, but countered most of Scourge’s hits. This wasn’t looking good for either of them. They had different ways of utilizing chaos energy, both in dangerous ways, but with grave consequences on both of them. Especially mentally…

“Urk!” Under his sunglasses, which had fallen with the swing of his head down to his eyes, he suddenly winced in a bit of fear. “W…What-what gives you all this power!? Why won’t you just give in to me!?” It was almost pathetic, his sudden realization of how far Ember’s power could take her, but Ember liked to hear she was getting the advantage again.

She strained against his energy, him charging at her again, her pushing him back and holding her own as she tried to summon enough strength and sanity to speak again.

“It’s… because…”

Shadow… Sonic… Rouge.

“I have…”

Cream, Amy, Knuckles, Tails…

“P-people…”

Her memories, Maria… Dr. Gerald Robotnik.

All of her experiences.

All of her strife and happiness, pain and sorrows.

…Manic…

“I want… to protect!”

She sent a large energy wave out of her, rippling through the air as he remained stunned at the intensity of her Cursed Emerald’s power.

It was almost as though her very chest was shaking, the Cursed Emerald looking as though it was being rocked from her very core. Her soul taking full swing at him, him locked in her grip as she refused to let go.

“How’s that possible!?” he cried out, but it was too late now…

“I have all 7 Chaos Emeralds! You have only one!”

“Guess you didn’t do your research, but this little emerald was cursed for a reason!” She formed a beam at the tip of her protruding emerald, Scourge’s eyes glazed over with its wild radiance as he pulled his head back, whincing as he knew…This was gonna hurt. A lot.

“HAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

She spread a beam of dark purple energy out from her chest, propelling it into him as she held his fighting hands in place. A direct shot. A finishing blow. All she had left to give.

She left him with nowhere to dodge.

She had grappled him, causing his flimsy form to fly out in front of her, being forced to remain in the shock-blast of her immense power.

To keep from having the power push her back against the wall, she dug her feet into the ground of the cobble floor.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” the hit finally died down and caused Scourge to fall flat down on his face when she released him and backed away.

She gripped her arm, feeling the fatigue as her form disappeared and she fell down too. “You may be ticked… hah… hah… but no amount of fighting… hah… will keep me from forgetting… hah… hah… my friends.”

That was all. The last of everything. At least, she thought it was. Her vision so blurry and her body so numb.

The Cursed Emerald faded… as though Ember was left only to her mortal capabilities now.

“Grr…” he gripped the ground beneath him, “…Ow.” feeling the Chaos Emeralds shoot out from him, he forced his crisp self to get up, still steaming from the hit.

“YOU LITTLE-!” he reached out to her. “Whether you join or not, I’ll just kill you and dance on your corpse!”

While the two were distracted, they didn’t notice a portal open and his Anti-gang getting beaten in their attempt to block out their powerful and heated light energy.

“You can’t win! Ahh! Ow! Hot! You can’t burn me! I’m raw to the core, babe! I’m-… I’m not done,… I’m well done! Haha! Ouch… Get over here…” he began to crawl to her, and it was pretty impressive that he had even survived her attack.

‘How?’ Ember’s eyes were too exhausted to shake in fear, her body too tried to fully react to his advances toward her. ‘He’s totally beaten… He can barely move… the Chaos Emeralds… He must have used them to block some of the attack… but they’re drained too. How… How powerful is this guy?’

“I won.” She countered.

He fidgeted in his painful crawl towards her.

His face and belly were scraping against the floor, his knees skidded with fresh burns that only made the stone sting further against the cold, rough touch. The surface was like sandpaper on his blackened hide, but he kept moving, he kept crawling… his gloves ripped and his sunglasses blasted like a comic book page’s BAM. He kept coming. He wouldn’t back down.

“I’m not just gonna lie down and die! I’ll take you with me!” he raised a crazy eye and gripped her head.

She was powerless to stop him, she could barely move her body, let alone keep her eyes open.

“You… cheated.” She muttered again as he attempted to use her head to push him off the ground, but she didn’t have enough strain and just toppled with him.

“Dang it…” he finally let out what sounded like his own acceptance of his defeat. “You and I… we’re too alike.” He just managed a smirk. “You and I… we’re bad to the bone.”

“No…” Ember breathed out and managed to look him in the eye.

“I’m nothing like you.”

Then…

“Scourge!”

Scourge stopped in his pursuit, still gripping Ember’s head. She was so close to fainting that she couldn’t move out of his grasp.

He turned to the sound and noticed his gang tied up and on their knees, looking ticked at three figures who walked into the shadows of the room.

Scourge quickly removed his hand and grabbed Ember by her neck, forcing himself up while pulling her with him.

He wobbled to his feet, clearly annoyed and struggling to find a joke in the situation. “So much interference… Can’t a man feed his ambitions first?” he licks his lips. “What is this, the Calvary?”

The figures halted.

“Heh. Might as well make a lasting impression, hmm? Fire girl’s mine! You’re too late to save anyone!” He was fibbing. It was all a fake show to mask the fact that he knew he was beat. He couldn’t do anything and neither could Ember now. His strength to rise to his legs was nothing but a mortal attempt to look like a god. He was really just a rag-doll with his stitches coming undone, the fluff of powerlessness inches from snapping out of him and spreading like dandelion fuzz around the air.

For a last kick, a final punch, icing on the cake of trying to reclaim an authoritative stance, he leaned in to kiss her…

“I… won’t… lose…” his façade was failing him, he was about to collapse. He pushed his thumb up to get her chin to rise…

A moment away from some petty form of victory… not willing to admit defeat…

But a noble drumstick hit the side of his cranium.

His eyes blinked, dazed and confused.

One figure stuck a hand out into the light where Ember and Scourge had made the ceiling fall apart, but some of it dared to stay intact.

One pointer finger rose up and wagged itself in broad daylight. “No, no, no… that’s no way to treat a lady, dude.”

Scourge squinted his eyes as Ember slowly began to go limp in his hold.

She was too exhausted to try and look and see who it is, but ever ounce of her felt it knew that voice. Like a steady drum beat… like a rhythmic pound within the sound of the man’s voice.

“And you are?”

“When Ember’s letters started turning sour, I figured something wasn’t right.”

That voice… She knew that voice…

“Sonia said they were forged when we compared handwriting with previous other letters she had written me.”

It couldn’t be… but Ember’s eyes struggled to force themselves open just a little longer…

Hoping for a glance of him…

Of…

“I went to Sonic for some answers. Turns out Shadow was looking for her too and well,” he shrugged, but his voice was immediately recognizable to Ember.

“M-…Man...ic?”

“Well, now we’re saving my luscious lady from your filthy little hands!” Manic, Sonic, and Shadow both stepped out of the shadows, revealing their forms as Shadow narrowed his eyes, a deep glare upon his broad brow as he noticed the state Ember was in. Sonic was also acting a bit more serious than Ember had ever seen him look before, but that soon changed to a proud smile when he noticed Scourge was thoroughly beat-up by her before they had even gotten there.

“L…Luscious?” she could barely get any air to escape her throat and respond to him, but he seemed to be proceeding with caution, noticing her frail state. Still, it made her want to chuckle, bringing a corner of her lips up to a smile at hearing his ridiculously outdated talk start-up again. It wasn’t nearly as annoying as Scourge calling her ‘spark’ or ‘baby’. She’d rather hear Manic say it than him.

“It means you’re rocking!” Manic drummed the air, hearing her faintly whispered reply to his shenanigans. “But in a- ‘pretty and wonderful personality’ kinda way.”

“This is annoying.” Scourge lowered his eyelids, tilting and trying to regain his lost balance again. It was clear he wasn’t ready for a round 16… as he had previously already taken Ember on a good number of times.

“This is the bozo I have to rival with?” he looked comically to Ember, as if not understanding her taste. He pulled on her hair again to get her to look up at him, and through the pain, she laughed a moment.

“He’s the right… shade of green.”

Scourge showed his fangs on that comment, not liking it one bit.

“I can still take him.” Ember protested, but weakly pawed her claws at him. This only made the scene funnier and more desperate.

“Right. Don’t mean to steal your thunder, babe, but let me and my bros handle this.” Manic turned back to the Anti-Gang as Sonic and Shadow leaped forward.

Scourge’s eyes widened, not ready for this new encounter at all.

With that last comment, Shadow darted up and launched a Chaos Spear, which forced Scourge to jump back. He released Ember, leaving her to drop like dead-weight on the ground, flopping a bit and not even trying to stop the fall… even just a little bit.

She wouldn’t call out for help though, she just tried to keep breathing and keep her eyes from fully shutting. She wanted to see this. Shadow kick some butt, Sonic do his thing, and Manic… she just wanted to stare at him as long as she possibly could.

It was good to see him again. So, he didn’t hate her? All those sent letters never reached him? What awful things was Scourge writing to him, under her name?

Scourge was injured and woozy, so when Shadow’s feet hit the ground, he was still unsteady.

Shadow dealt a number of powerful blows, causing more noticeable blood to spit out from Scourge’s mouth, revealing the internal injuries were getting just as bad as his outer appearance…

The Chaos Emeralds were flung from his being— Pik, pik, pik!

They bounced against the ground, tumbling, and finally rolling through a half-demolished wall’s jagged holes where stones had been hit out of place.

Sonic watched the emeralds scatter and raced along the still remaining walls, letting his hand skim their grainy exterior before rolling into a ball and ducking into the holes of the same wall after them.

“I’ve got Scourge, you get Ember!”

Sonic’s voice rang out as he sped through the barely hanging walls of the destroyed castle, revealing his super from as he blasted the remaining structure away. With that wall gone, the whole place started to shake and loosened stones began to fall around them.

The Anti-Gang looked up, realizing the whole place was about to go down.

Scourge’s super form immediately faded with a knee to the face as Sonic easily began to pummel him down while Shadow turned his attention back to Ember.

Right before she fainted, she felt Shadow quickly scoop her up. A tight, firm grasp upon her sides made her flinch a bit in pain, but his words made her happy in their weird way. “Stupid girl, what did I tell you about making enemies!?”

“Only twice a day?” she joked, and then her eyes rolled and she fell unconscious.

She only vaguely remembered voices. Shouting from Scourge, mostly. She did hear Manic and figured he must have been the one who rushed over, skidded to his knees, and felt her face…

But she could have imagined it…

The next morning, she admitted what she had done was reckless, and should have tried to escape instead of fight.

Manic had tended to her wounds with Rouge and other G.U.N officers, but Sonia was the one who helped create the portal to get her out of that mess.

She personally thanked her before Sonia had to return and govern her own kingdom that Sonic and Manic willingly gave off to her. Neither wanted to rule, but Sonia was a natural leader who was born for the role, quite literally.

Laying on the gurney, she slowly blinked her eyes to adjust to the light, having taken a long rest since then. Shadow, Sonic, and Manic had stayed at different times to check on her as she dozed off repeatedly back to her deep, recovery slumber. However, this time, they all seemed to be in the room.

She immediately opened the conversation, weakly and groggy at first, with a gentle explanation of her behavior for why she didn’t try to run but fought instead.

“I just wanted to see how far our little ‘game’ would go.” She withdrew herself back from Shadow’s glare as she rose from the gurney. “Who defeated him in the end… might I ask?”

In her heart, she still believed she succeeded. “Cause honestly,” she began, unable to keep it to herself. “He cheated.”

The men had different reactions to that. Sonic chuckled while Manic rolled his eyes with a smile on his face, and Shadow just grumbled something under his breath… probably a curse she was glad she didn’t hear. Maybe he was holding back..? Due to her condition?

Shadow turned to Sonic, who looked back at him and then over to Manic. They seemed to be thinking the same response…

“We all kinda chipped in.” Sonic stated, before Shadow shook his head and sighed.

“Far to modest… I completely obliterated him.” Shadow immediately bit back at Sonic’s rather ‘humble’ comment.

“What!?” humbleness went out the door as Sonic suddenly spun to confront Shadow’s claim, “We all fought him! And besides, I beat him up waaaaaay before you or Manic stepped in!”

“I believe you have failed to recall how I dealt with him swiftly first. You’re the one who called me off to get your own share of the action.” Shadow folded his arms, turning at an angle away from Sonic’s childish behavior. “Honestly, you’re no better than her at claiming all the glory…”

“You’re the one making a fuss!” Sonic pointed an accusing finger before looking over to Manic, “Well? Am I right? Or am I right!”

“I’m a peacemaker, yo. A pacifist at heart.” Manic drummed the side of the gurney, refusing to be apart of the contention. “But for you, I couldn’t help but summon my old drum set. Sent beats of righteous justice his way.” He winked to Ember, admitting that he did join a little bit in the fight, even if it was indirectly and through the power of his sick, twisted beats.

“You were ranged, but still effective.” Shadow still didn’t know how to address the fact that his so-called ‘Sister’ was writing a complete stranger. To him, anyway, he didn’t know anything about this ‘Manic’ fellow but trusted him after all he’d done to find and save Ember. “However, you have yet to explain your side of the story…” Shadow turned to Ember again, “How exactly do you two know each other?“

“It’s been a while since you’ve fought, Manic.” Sonic smirked, turning his attention away from Shadow’s stubborn crossed-arms, not willing to admit it as a team effort, but also avoiding his brother and his possible girlfriend from having to admit anything.

“I did most of the work, though…” Sonic muttered through the side of his mouth, pulling up a hand to side-mouth the statement towards Ember, grinning widely as he winked to her.

This only made Ember smile, seeing them all try to lighten the mood for her.

“You merely distracted him as I got Ember to safety and defeated him only after I had stepped in.”

“I had to let you have a few blows, you were acting like the angry big brother all the way there! And what? Are you trying to look ‘cool’ in front of your sister now or something?” Sonic teased, calling Shadow out with a hint of casual backstabbing.

He leaned towards Shadow, lowering his eyelids with a wicked sense of pleasure on his face, waiting to see Shadow’s reaction to his words.

“Why?” Shadow closed both his eyes, refusing to give Sonic what he wanted. “I have no need for that. She already looks up to me far more than she should.”

“Yeesh, what a double-edged sword.” Sonic sweat dropped a bit, flinching back at how arrogant Shadow could be when provoked.

But… Ember noticed that he didn’t protest Sonic’s words too severely… It made her heart lighter than air… hearing him accept her being called his little sister without too much of a complaint.

“We searched a few realms before finding the right one. Sorry for being a tad late—not so fashionably—But it was far out and about, man.” Manic twirled his drumsticks into a holster and walked over to Ember, subtly reminding the other men in the room that it was about Ember, not them.

He leaned on her bedside, “Just glad you’re alright.”

His smile melted her worries away, and she tilted her head towards him, wishing to be closer to that positive aura his smile gave off. She tilted her chin down with a faint blush…

Then something crossed her mind, just as quick as her blush disappeared.

“T-those letters, though… the fake ones. W-wha-what did they say?” Worriedly, Ember’s face turned sorrowfully up to him with regret. “If I had known…”

“Don’t worry about it.” He flicked a finger under her chin, tapping it playfully but remaining at a distance. Especially with Shadow around… she took a quick glance at him before pulling a bit away from Manic, respecting that he was just as nervous with being affectionate around her with Shadow in the room as she was towards him. “I’m just glad we were able to nab that bad dude. He should be in prison now, right?”

“Him and his goonies.” Sonic nodded as Shadow took a few more turns looking back and forth between Manic and Ember.

‘Just what the heck are you two, anyway!?’ was the expression on his face, leaving Ember to awkwardly look away and wag her tail as Manic scratched behind his head and nervously laugh the constant double-glances Shadow gave him away.

----

Far away, and in a dusty jail cell, Scourge and his team were separated.

He was thrown into quarantine with a ripped-up jacket that freed his arms from their insanity hold around his waist, gripping the bars. “I vow to never rest till Ember’s blood is burning on my hands, or at least something of hers..! I will have my REVENGE!”

“Keep it down over there!”,

“Ahhh, shut up!”,

“Is that..? Ah, man. Why’s he back with us?”

The other inmates could hear his ranting cries clear across the courtyard, where Fiona and the gang pop some bubble gum. She stuck it to a nail file and threw it up over the wall. Quickly moving through the bars of his small, rectangular window, it flipped a few times before descending and clinging its gummy, pink, and spit covered substance against the wall.

It stuck to the inside of his cell, slowly being pulled down by the weight of the nail file and stretched towards him. Finally, with Scourge leaning up against the wall, grinding his teeth together in frustration, he heard it tink just above him.

He stopped scowling and looked up, seeing the metal gleam in his eyes, his sunglasses upon his head also reflecting their bright, silver exterior.

“First freedom.” he smiled with evil glee.

“And then, that day… will come soon.”

Laughter echoed the walls of the isolation unit.

End.

#ember the immortal wolf #cutegirlmayra #commission #me commission #commission receipts #sonic oc

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