#first time trying to draw seafoam too!! it was very absorbing

[tenspontaneite]

'Shardwing Sunrise'.

This would probably take place in post-epilogue Assembly. Seven Red Suns stands on the coast just after sunrise and prepares for a flight 👌

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 42- Crossfire

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

When the Forest has control of lightning magic, someone is bound to be struck.

Warning: mentions of abuse, invasive thoughts

_________________________

The deeper they got into the forest, the worse the illusions got. No one was safe, no matter how many talismans, potions, and mental exercises they run through. Sometimes the hermits have no choice but to stop and console a team member who’s being affected by the Forest. Warm hugs bring Cleo back from the long locked away memory of her death, how she became who she is now. It wasn’t until three potions and the welcoming press of his zweihander resting in his hand that Wels is able to ignore the illusions. And Grian nearly flies away as the Forest reminds him of how many times he’s been thrown out of every orphanage and guild he entered. If it weren’t for the hermits, he’d be alone, lost. And at the will of the Hangman’s Playground. 

Scar feels the sting of torn skin, right along where he got his namesake, before the rest of the illusion appears. Such a peaceful, normal forest. He tries to focus on the trees, the creek he passes by, with gentle animals of all kinds drinking from the fresh spring water. Of the perfect placement of rocks, ferns, even the way the dirt curls over roots. 

“No merchant’s son will be seen playing in dirt!” The hot sting of blood, of torn skin marred by rich jewels and gilded rings. His father’s voice growls through the extravagant manor. 

“And he tracked mud onto the entrance carpet! There’s no possible way we can get that stain out!”

“I wasn’t playing in dirt.” Scar whispers, daring to defy his parents. To speak out without being told to speak. His voice is young, pitching up and down across his words, tinged with anger and contempt. “I was practicing my magic. I was creating something ahmazin’.”

“I forbid you from ever using your magic! It’s a disgrace that my son’s magic is so...is so messy!” Scar’s feet were no longer on the ground, though he can faintly feel the soft compress of dirt in the forest, the illusion tells him otherwise. His father’s opulent outfit, matched with the bloody rings he wears on each and every finger, his hand balled in a fist in Scar’s collar. “You will let your worthless magic die, and do exactly as you are told.”

But Scar’s own thoughts rebuke the forest, without need of a single potion or talisman. Because he remembers what happened next. He spent his youth practicing in secret, and as soon as he knew he could make it on his own, he set off. From that moment forward, he defied his father by nurturing his magic, rather than letting it die. From that moment forward, he never did what he was told. 

And that led him to the hermits, his best friends, his family. He remembers the fateful day he met BDubs, pure happenstance and Scar’s own proclivity for disaster. He was in a tree, trying to better understand how trees form and grow to mimic in his magic- he wanted to make it as perfect as nature itself- when he fell backwards and ended up crushing the hermit just walking through the woods. 

If it wasn’t for his act of defiance that night, he wouldn’t have found his true family. If it wasn’t for that night, he wouldn’t have become the S-Class mage he is now. He wouldn’t have won in the Chimaera’s Championship. The night the Forest of Memories chose was one of the worst nights of his life, but it was also the beginning of the best thing ever to happen to him. The beginning of his new life, with his true family. 

The illusion shatters, like glass, fractals dissolving and lost in the wind. Scar smiles, looking around at his friends. Those who welcomed his magic, let him nurture it. “Have I told you how much I love you guys?” 

“Look, I think we’re getting close to whatever is hidden in here.” Doc points out, his hand on his friend’s shoulder. In the distance, red light bounces and is absorbed by the warm brown bark of the trees. Another leyline, just as large and pulsing with stolen lifeforce. They’re so close, they’ve come so far. Certainly there’s no way they can lose themselves now, they’ve been fighting it off successfully for who knows how long. 

But not everyone is successful in fighting off memories. At the back of the group, Mumbo wipes away the tears in his eyes. He doesn’t warn the others about the memories playing around him. He doesn’t want to disappoint the hermits. 

Not like he disappointed his dad. The Forest of Memories, the Hangman’s Playground, has dug up his worst fears, and replays every time he’s failed his father. Every time he returned from one failed guild exam after another. The sidelong glances and long tirades of how much of a disappointment Mumbo was.  Every single one, from his first exam when he turned thirteen, to the last exam before he was disowned.

It was that one that hurt the most. And it was that one that the Forest replays not just in Mumbo’s mind, but all around him. The trees turn to pillars, and Mumbo is standing on the expansive steps of his family’s manor. His father’s stern face looks down at him, clean shaven and hair slicked back harshly. The tight pull of the starched white collar of Mumbo’s shirt is even harsher, but nothing compares to the dense silence between father and son. 

He was a disgrace to the family. Dozens of guilds, laughing at the family line for creating such a worthless progeny. Dozens of guilds, turning him away after he failed their gauntlets, exams, and prerequisites. No matter what Mumbo tried, no matter what he did, he could never be good enough for his father. Not the way he was. 

“Miriam.” Mumbo tips his head up to meet his father’s stern, cold eyes. “Come back a guildmember, or don’t bother coming back at all.” 

He failed his family. He’s failed so many. He’s failed his family, he’s failed to help Gildara, or Danes. Fight after fight, battle after battle, he’s always the weakest link. He’s always been failing the hermits. And he’s failing them now. 

He’s the weakest link, and the Forest knows it. It knows he will fail, just like always. Mumbo wipes away tears, and discovers he’s in total darkness. The memory is gone, but the illusion kept it’s grasp on Mumbo. 

“Why would we want to be your friends?” A sneering voice echoes through the darkness, an accent all too familiar, the words all the more painful to be held by Iskall’s voice. 

“You can’t even use your own magic. All that power, wasted on a weakling.” A shadow passes in the emptiness, and Mumbo barely catches a glimpse of the brown, furry dog tail. 

A high pitched laughter, followed by the scrape of metal against stone. “You can’t fight, you can’t defend, you can’t even heal. At this point, you’re just dragging us down. We should have cut you down long ago.” 

The swing of a saber appears in the night, and Mumbo staggers backward as Cleo’s saber nearly cuts his chest open. In the foggy darkness, he can just make out her eyes. Or where there should be Cleo’s sea blue eyes. Instead, all he saw was oozing, black goo, pouring like viscous tears down her seafoam green skin. She’s gone, disappearing back into the darkness, a shark cutting through the waves. 

Mumbo attempts escape, but no matter where he crawls, the ebony darkness has him trapped. Laughter, voices rise from the void, whispers and shouts. Voices he knows, like those of his friends. Scar, Jevin, Hypno, even TFC. Berating him for being a useless member of the guild, that he’s just the jester, the pet. Of his father, yelling about the shame, that he wishes Mumbo was better, stronger, worthwhile. And voices he doesn’t know apart from the words they spit out. Bullies in school, taunting him in magic class for not even being able to call on his magic. Bullies in guilds, casting him out and laughing with every mistake he made. The guild leaders, sneering and jeering before, during, and after his failed tests. 

There was no escape from these dark thoughts, not when the Hangman’s Playground plays them out before his very eyes. Memories of reality, and memories of the fears and ‘what ifs’ he’s played a thousand times over in his head. He hears the voices he knows, just knows the other hermits say behind his back. He feels the stinging betrayal as they kick him out, the very words dozens of other guilds have told him before. He watches Grian leave him for better, stronger friends. 

Mumbo reaches out for Grian, his best friend, shaking fingers just barely able to grip onto the tarlike wings of the agnel. Like a bird trapped in oil, each feather dripping with the black goo. “G-Grian, please, I promise I’ll work har-”

Grian turns around, hand slapping away Mumbo’s own, and the empty black goo of Grian’s eyes stare into Mumbo. Pinning him down, too afraid to fight back. To weak to fight back. “Forget it, Mumbo. You’re useless, you can’t even draw your own magic circle. I don’t know why I bothered to ever save you, that day so long ago.” 

Beside Grian, Iskall’s laughter pierces through Mumbo’s heart. It feels so cold, so abrasive, even though nothing has changed about that tittering laugh of his friend. Mumbo shrinks awake, wiping the tears that cascade like a waterfall down his face. “I-I can be better, I can do better! Please don’t leave me!” 

“Oh yeah? Prove it.” The hiss from Iskall, slicing across his beard, catching the sludge and twisting in his facial hair. “Prove that you’re this mega awesome multi-mage of doom, and not some puny mega weakling that we know you are.” 

Mumbo’s panicking. He has to do it. Just this once, he has to unleash his power. So he can keep his friends. Closing his eyes, he digs deep. He tries to ignore the jeers and laughter around him, focusing in on his magic. His hands shake, but he tears down the walls he’s set up to protect himself, protect everyone from the surges he’s prone to. Mumbo can’t hold back on his powers, not unless he wants to hold onto his friends. He feels the power rushing through his body, but he doesn’t stop. He will prove it- he’s not worthless. 

Grian turns around, noticing that there’s one less person in the group. They’re so close, he can feel a change in the atmosphere around him. It reminds him of when they were in Gildara, but stronger. Like the entire world is pressing on his shoulders. “Mumby?”

Mumbo’s on the ground,  kneeling with fingers clutched in the forest floor. His shoulders rise and fall, and Grian realizes that the Forest of Memories was playing with Mumbo. Grian walks away from the group, keeping his spirits high and fighting off the tendrils of dark thoughts that tickle his mind. He reaches Mumbo’s side, kneeling on the red illuminated leyline. 

“Oh gods…” Grian whispers, seeing Mumbo’s eyes as he tips the mage’s face up. Veiled by mist, Mumbo’s sight has swirls of grey blinding him to reality. He’s trapped, deep inside the illusion that the Hangman’s Playground. And he’s losing control of his magic, sparks snapping free from fisted fingers, redstone saturating the ground around him. Grian reaches his hand out. 

Hands rest on Mumbo’s shoulder, holding him down. The voices are louder, angrier, filled with spite and hatred. Drowning out any sense of Mumbo’s rationale, he lets go of his magic. He unleashes it all onto the world. 

Mumbo grabs his father’s hand resting on his shoulder, and lets loose as much of his lightning that he can muster. 

The darkness shatters, and Mumbo sees that it wasn’t his father, or any guildmaster, bully, or even Dolios himself holding Mumbo down. But it’s too late to stop the bolts of energy as it crawls through his hands and runs up Grian’s ruddy skin. One more time, the Hangman’s Playground toys with him once more, letting him see the truth. Letting him watch as the uncontrolled magic surges through Grian, sending the young angel crashing to the ground. 

“Grian!” Xisuma cries out, abandoning the track of red, skidding to the ground at Grian’s side. Mumbo scrambles to his feet, stepping forward. But then he sees the ricocheting of lightning, jolts of lightning still searching for escape from Grian’s body, and the writhing pain that his friend is in. Charred black wings, just like the ones he saw in his illusion. Mumbo’s not in control of himself- was he ever?- and the power of uncontrolled magic fills his body, blinds his thoughts. From one extreme to another. 

He hurt Grian. He could hurt any one of the others. He’s horrified by his actions, the thoughts that led him here. He’s all or nothing- too weak or too strong, and either way it destroys those he loves most. 

The ground moves beneath his feet, the shouts and calls little more than white noise as the Forest of Memories replays that second over and over again in Mumbo’s mind. Hurting his best friend, hurting a fellow hermit. The hermits could be calling for him, calling for Grian, calling for the goddess of the dead for all he cared about. 

Mumbo just runs. Far away from the hermits, deep into the branching teeth, into the belly of the Forest of Memories.

[chemicalmagecraft]

Taiyuu OCT Round 2

@taiyuu-oct

Character Nicknames: Akai-chan: Naishin-Sunomu Seisho Boron: Nerva Rekka Mulan-sensei: Ryujin Mushu-chan: Firecracker Seiryu-chan: Seafoam Pixiu-chan: Lux Yama-chan: Jade

x x x

Yukino yawned as her teachers led both classes somewhere. She groaned. Whatever they were doing was probably interesting, but did they really have to do it so early? She saw a towering figure walking just ahead of her and walked over to her. "Akai-chan..." she muttered as she bumped her forehead into her cru- friend's back. Well, it might've been a little low to call her back...

Akai-chan jumped a little. "T-takeda-kun."

"Akai-chan..." Yukino rubbed her head against Akai-chan's back a little.

"You okay, Yuki-chan?" a voice asked her.

Yukino turned around, rubbing her eyes. "Hey, Boron," she muttered. One of her classmates she was closer to. Mostly because he was a fire-user, to be honest...

"Need some heat?" Boron asked, holding up a ball of his rainbowy fire.

Yukino nodded. "Yeah, thanks." She held her hand up to the fire, using her Quirk to suck the heat from it. She sighed contentedly. Boron's fire was pretty delicious, like a good curry. "That was good, thanks," she said when she was done. Her mind was starting to feel a little clearer after eating that fire.

"Could you please cool me down a little?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure." Yukino held her vapor-wreathed hands out to him again. The early June day was only pleasantly warm to her... but then again so was the hottest day of Summer, so Yukino figured he was probably a little hot considering his Quirk was heat-generating as opposed to heat-draining. A small amount of chilled, vapor-laden air swirled around Boron, cooling him down. Yukino didn't like using her Quirk directly on people if she could help it, that could get really dangerous if she wasn't really careful, but in her experience some slightly subzero air swirling around a person did well enough to cool someone down safely with only a slight drop in efficiency.

"Thanks," he said, then pointed to something. "Hey, I think that that's where we're going," Yukino turned to look at what he was pointing at.

Oh. Ugh, that looked pretty ugly... If she was generous about it, Yukino would describe it as looking vaguely like a small city. Clearly it was meant to emulate those cityscape training grounds Yukino heard about from her brother, but Yukino kinda assumed that the ones in UA weren't cobbled together from what appeared to be dirt. She knew the windows had actual glass, at least; she remembered the time Niichan told her about how he'd gotten the drop on a classmate by jumping through a window. He specifically made sure she knew that she should use her Quirk or something to blow out the glass first before doing that herself, the square...

"What, we gonna learn how to make cities out of dirt now?" Yukino scoffed.

"You might be wonderin' why you were brought here," a voice said. Yukino thought it might be Mulan-sensei, but she was currently standing behind Akai-chan, who was like twice her height, so she couldn't really see who it was. Yukino liked Mulan-sensei, plus she had a dragon Quirk. And her accent reminded her of her mother's. "Please leave all yer questions for the end."

"'Scuse me," Yukino said, scooting by Akai-chan.

"Ah, sorry, Takeda-kun," Akai-chan said.

Yukino... still couldn't see much of Mulan-sensei from behind everyone's backs (being the shortest person in class could be a little annoying sometimes...), but she could at least see her head...

"Today we're testin' how well y'all can do fightin' things that're much bigger than you," Mulan-sensei said. It looked like she pointed at something, but Yukino couldn't see it... "Some of you may have noticed the effects of my Quirk by now. Some of you may have even... befriended ‘em..."

The dragons. They were nice. A little annoying at times, but nice. Plus, y'know, dragons.

"You'll have to pick on of 'em to fight, one-on-one. They won't go easy on ya, aside from makin' sure ya don't get too hurt, so pick carefully! The red one's Firecracker, the blue one's Seafoam, the gold one's Lux, and the green one's Jade. That's all the information I'm givin' y'all right now. Some of you may know more about them, some of you don't have a clue what they can do. Yer gonna haveta deal with that. Ya won't always know exactly what a villain's powers are when ya fight 'em. Now, just two little bits before we get started. First, try to make it quick. We only have one arena and it's supposed to be one-on-one. And second, the use of support items is allowed and in fact encouraged."

Everyone cheered at that last bit.

x x x

Yukino's choice was pretty simple. Sure, she could've given herself more of a challenge if she went for, say, the water-controlling Seiryu-chan, but the exercise wasn't 'pick which dragon you think you'll do worst against and beat him anyway.' And if she wiped herself out taking down her opponent again the teachers would probably start getting annoyed with her... She'd been tempted to see how well she could do against Pixiu-chan's telekinetic control over gold and other valuables, but she could probably talk to Mulan-sensei about that later. And Yama-chan? The other dragons were already big enough, but he could apparently get huge. So again, she did not want to wipe herself out.

So here she was in a city made of dirt, waiting for a big red dragon to try to burn her to a crisp. Not that it'd work, of course. Yukino had never taken the full blast of anyone's fire breath, but between her grandfather and brother she had a lot of experience with using her Quirk to absorb fire breath. And considering what Mulan-sensei said, Mushu-chan probably wouldn't even try to hit her directly with his fire. Which... was actually not good for her. When you get a power up by eating fire it's normally preferable to get hit with fire, after all. She could deal with it if Mushu-chan wouldn't hit her, though.

Yukino scoffed at one of the dirt buildings. She was starting to get a little miffed at how low the school's budget seemed to be. It hadn't bothered her at first, but another incident (or more like series of incidents...) with a certain student who shall not be named had started to sour her feelings about the school... She was half-tempted to drop one of the buildings on Mushu-chan, that probably wouldn't be too hard with how they were made from dirt, but she felt like she might get points docked for intentionally causing collateral damage. Still, something to consider if Mushu-chan started giving her trouble.

Yukino pulled out her bow. She didn't have any arrows on her, but with her Quirk she could make as many as she needed. Hopefully. She fidgeted a little with the bracers she was given for the exercise. An idea for a support item she'd had. They didn't exactly look very pretty, but it looked like they would work like she'd imagined. Just in case, she pointed her free arm at a building and quickly tapped the small grappling hook-like attachment at the end of the bracer, chilling it with her Quirk. Then she got her hand clear and activated the mechanism in the bracer. The hook shot out, the wire it was hopefully attached to well enough for her Quirk to count it as one whole object trailing behind it. It hit the wall with a satisfying amount of force, digging into it slightly because it was made of dirt. She retracted the wire, activating a mechanism that made it reel back in.

"Good, that works." Next, Yukino thought about her boots. It felt a little uncomfortable, having bits of metal rubbing directly against her feet, but hopefully it'd be a little less uncomfortable than freezing through all of her boots if she wanted to freeze something with her feet... in theory, anyway.  Just in case, Yukino made a small patch of frost under her foot. It was uncomfortable, but it worked. Hopefully it'd be better with the final version, but she could deal with it for now. Hopefully.

Yukino kept walking. Seriously, where was Mushu-chan? She wasn't going to be able to take Mushu-chan out quickly if he didn't sho-

"RRRAAA!"

Yukino turned around. Oh boy. There was Mushu-chan, floating around a building in what Yukino hoped was his max size. He was massive, almost as wide as Yukino was tall. Yukino wasn't very tall, of course, but that was still pretty damn big. Especially because he was an Eastern-style dragon, and therefore very long compared to his width.

Yukino smirked at the dragon, raising her bow. "Big mistake. I know where you are now." She raised her free hand, Cryomancy vapor pouring from it. Five arrows made from perfect ice condensed from the air, floating by Yukino's side. They were blunted so they'd hurt but not kill. Theoretically. Yukino grabbed an arrow and ducked inside one of the buildings. It was totally empty aside from the stairs, but that didn't really change what Yukino was planning. She looked out the window. The angle was a little awkward, but Mushu-chan had floated within her range, so she knew she could make the shot.

Yukino nocked her arrow. She'd asked for a bow with a draw weight a little higher than what she was used to, as she was hoping her Quirk would offset that. She pulled the arrow back with a mixture of her physical strength and her telekinesis, taking aim at the dragon who was staring curiously at her. She let go, careful to time it with switching the direction she was pulling her arrow in. Mushu-chan floated to the side, shooting a beam of white-hot fire aimed so that it'd hit the arrow but not Yukino. He would've hit the arrow, but just before the fire reached it its trajectory curved. While the arrow did heat up a bit simply from the radiated heat, only its surface melted a little. The arrow struck Mushu-chan in the jaw, cutting off his fire breath.

"Hey!" Mushu-chan yelled at her. "That hurt!" He stuck his head through the window, growling at Yukino. An idea popped into Yukino's head.

"Yeah, that's kinda the point!" Yukino retorted, running back out the door. Mushu-chan followed. Good. Yukino quickly nocked another two arrows, letting them loose at the dragon's head. Normally, shooting two arrows from the same bow isn't a good idea. The force from the string is distributed between both arrows, meaning less force for both, and it's super hard to aim two arrows at once. But with a targeted telekinesis Quirk like Yukino's? Both arrows shot off faster than they should have, though not quite as fast as her first arrow. They shot off in two different directions. Mushu-chan dodged one, but the other cracked him on the side of the head.

He roared at Yukino again. Yukino smirked at him, then ducked under the part of his body that had yet to go through the window yet. Just like she'd hoped, Mushu-chan followed her under his body. She quickly threw her last few arrows at him (not with her bow, just pure telekinesis) and started running back at Mushu-chan's body. Before she hit him she created a small platform from ice with her new boots that she used to vault over Mushu-chan's body, chilling her bow's handle and floating it away so it wouldn't break. She rolled when she hit the ground, but it wasn't the best roll and she wasn't able to get up at the end of it.

"Ow," she said, rubbing her shoulder and getting up as quick as she could.

"Get! Over! Here!" Mushu-chan yelled at her. He was having a bit of trouble getting close enough to attack her, though, because he was a little tied up at the moment. By his own body.

Yukino snickered at the sight of her opponent tied around the dirt building like some giant, red rope. She floated her bow back over to her, latching it back onto the holster she was given for it. She noticed that Mushu-chan, without even trying to, was already damaging the bit of the building he was tied around. Before he noticed and broke the wall, Yukino quickly channeled her Quirk through her boots, frost spreading along the ground and strengthening the wall with ice.

"So that's your plan!" Mushu-chan shouted. "It won't work!" He aimed at the frozen wall, unleashing a gout of flames at the ice. Yukino grinned. She wasn't completely done freezing the ice yet. Her shoes cooled down a little more than if Mushu-chan hadn't hit the wall with fire, but Yukino was able to use her Quirk’s cooling effect keep the ice from melting. Mostly. Mushu-chan strained at the wall. Yukino could tell that that wouldn't hold forever, but the dragon seemed to be too preoccupied with trying to get free to focus on her too much.

Yukino smirked, creating a few decently-sized ice chunks. There was always the time-honored strategy of hitting the boss while it was stunned. Yukino threw her ice at Mushu-chan's head. They cracked as they bounced off Mushu-chan's red scales, though because they were still mostly intact Yukino was able to hit Mushu-chan with them again while she made more ice to hit him with.

"H-hey, stop that!" Mushu-chan shouted as he was buffeted by giant hailstones. He squirmed, redoubling his efforts to break free. The wall creaked and cracked under the pressure, until it finally exploded. Yukino grinned as the giant chunks of ice-covered dirt flew everywhere... then homed in on Mushu-chan like the rest of Yukino's ice. "I regret this immediately!" he shouted as Yukino continued her telekinetic assault.

The fight looked to be in Yukino's favor, but she was starting to get a little cold from using her Quirk so much... Yukino gathered a large amount of ice and dirt into a swirling cloud, between Yukino and Mushu-chan but off to the side a little so that if Mushu-chan shot at it, the fire would just barely miss Yukino. Just as Yukino planned, Mushu-chan opened his mouth, a red glow in his throat. He let loose a burst of fire at the ice, trying to melt it before Yukino could attack him with it. Yukino scattered the ice before the fire hit it, however, letting the fire pass through as the ice went back to hitting him.

Yukino quickly jumped into the path of the fire, vapor-wreathed hands outstretched. Her Quirk clawed through the fire, cooling it down from something dangerous even to her to something only pleasantly warm to her. It tasted like pop rocks. It was only a quick burst of fire, but it still warmed her up. Yukino grinned at Mushu-chan.

"Crud..." Mushu-chan muttered. It looked like he'd managed to melt most of her ice while she was eating his fire, but Yukino could deal with that.

"Hey, wanna see a magic trick?" Yukino asked.

"Uhhh... can I say no?" Mushu-chan started flying over to Yukino, probably to stop her from doing what she was about to do.

"No." Yukino turned her Quirk on before he could reach her, white vapor curling off her exposed skin. Unlike most times when she used her Quirk, though, this time the white vapor was intentional and not just a side effect of her Quirk. The air around Yukino's body rapidly cooled, dropping to just a little below zero degrees. As it did, Yukino forced the water in the air to condense even more than it already was, though she didn't turn any of it into ice like normal. Instead she let it grow into a massive cloud, blanketing the street with a thick fog... though it was probably already starting to thin from the open air. "Special Move: Breath of the Ice Dragon," Yukino said to herself. She was a bit cold already from making all that fog, but she definitely had some ice left in her still.

Yukino dodged to the side of Mushu-chan's claw swipe, just barely visible through the fog. "Where are you?" he bellowed, then let loose a small jet of fire. It wasn't big enough to hit her unless she was like right next to his head, but it looked like it cleared away a small amount of fog. Yukino snuck closer to the buildings. She was suddenly very glad that the dirt path prevented the metal bits on the bottoms of her boots from making any noise. She needed to find some way to get the drop on Mushu-chan fast before he managed to clear off enough fog to see her again.

Get the drop on... Yukino looked at her gauntlets, then the dirt building she was standing next to. She sighed, then took a deep breath. "This is gonna suck..." She quickly tapped the hooks on her gauntlets, then launched them at sections of the wall a few stories up with a window between them. Like with her arrows, she was able to use her telekinesis to increase the force of the launch and direct their trajectory. Her grappling hooks buried themselves into opposite sides of the window. Yukino grabbed the wires and conducted her Quirk through them, freezing the hooks to the wall to hopefully give her less of a chance of falling. Theoretically she could catch herself, but she'd prefer not to have to do that if she could avoid it...

Yukino pulled herself up using a combination of the mechanisms in the gauntlets and a careful application of her telekinesis. She ran up the wall as fast as she could, trying not to think about what would happen if she slipped. She burst out of the fog cloud, then grabbed onto the ledge she was aiming for. She dragged herself into the building, which thankfully had a dirt floor somehow and wasn't just an empty shell. Yukino quickly broke the ice around her hooks with her telekinesis, letting them retract all the way. She looked out the window.

Mushu-chan swished his tail around, dissipating the last of Yukino's fog. There was still a light mist clinging to the ground, but Mushu-chan could now clearly see that Yukino was not there. "Where did you go?" he asked. Of course, he was only looking down, so no matter how hard he looked he probably wasn't gonna find him no matter how hard he tried.

"Ohh, this is high up," Yukino winced. She was really regretting this plan... Yukino took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She was normally so good at taming her feelings, she had to be. Why did heights bother her so much? She was the granddaughter of a literal dragon. Or, well, a guy with a dragon Quirk, but it was like the dragoniest dragon Quirk.

Yukino shouted, punching the wall. She slapped her cheeks. "Come on, Yukino, get it together! You don't wanna go into Dragon Rage here!" She blinked, then grinned. "Or do you?" She took a deep breath. She thought about the holes that'd been “randomly” popping up in her memory the past two month, the shoddy construction that betrayed the fact that Taiyuu was an underbudgeted rush job, the poor heating and lack of hot water, even the fact that the place she was fighting Mushu-chan in was made entirely of dirt. Yukino purposefully ignored the techniques she'd learned over the years to help her control her inner beast. Her breathing grew heavier as she stoked her anger. Yukino scoffed, jumping onto the windowsill. She glared down at Mushu-chan. The height didn't scare her anymore. It only made her angrier. Though she was still trying to keep the worst of her rage in check. Going full rampage would probably not reflect well on her abilities as a prospective hero.

"Hey, Mushu-chan!" Yukino shouted. She jumped, pointing both her arms at the dragon and pushing her Quirk as much as she could. "YER GOIN' DOWN!" she screamed as ice condensed in front of her hands, her claws seemingly turning to ice from the power of her Quirk. Her ice grew as Mushu-chan looked up, starting out the size of a hailstone but snowballing quickly. It grew and grew, quickly becoming fridge-sized, then car-sized, even bigger. Mushu-chan's eyes, still visible through the perfectly clear ice, widened in fear. He opened his mouth, sending out a torrent of fire to melt her ice. Even as angry as she was, she still knew how to deal with that. She forced her hands apart, cracking her now very large chunk of ice into large pieces. She sent the ice out of the way of fire, using her Quirk to absorb Mushu-chan's breath again. She roared wordlessly when she burst through the fire, throwing her ice at Mushu-chan before he could retarget. The masses of ice crashed into Mushu-chan almost simultaneously, causing him to cry out in pain.

Yukino quickly conjured a platform of ice under all four of her limbs to slow herself down. She slipped off the platform with a strangled squawk and froze another platform, this time with hand- and footholds. Her anger simmered back down into fear now that she wasn't attacking Mushu-chan. "Why did I do thissss," she asked herself as her platform floated down to the ground. She took a deep breath, letting the slightly mutated adrenaline drain from her system. She got up shakily, looking at Mushu-chan. He was on the ground, partially pulverized ice covering him and powdering the ground around his body.

"Ow..." he said. He tried to rise up, then fell back down again. Yukino took out her staff, leaning on it just as much as she was using it in an attempt to appear more intimidating. She walked over to Mushu-chan, putting the butt of her staff on his snout and cooling it down a little.

"You done?" she asked. She still had a good deal of telekinetic energy left due to that last burst of fire, so she floated some of the small, but not powdered, bits of ice around his head, pushing down a little on the ice on top of him as well.

"Oww... yeah, but could you get the ice off of me?"

She nodded, brushing the chunks of ice away using as little energy as possible. Then she plopped down with a sigh, resting her head on Mushu-chan's. It kinda reminded her of of when she did that with her grandfather. "I need to get over my fear of heights..." she muttered.

"You did that with a fear of heights?" Mushu-chan asked her.

Yukino shrugged. "I was running entirely on an adrenaline rush. Though I probably shouldn't make a habit of that."

"You should probably leave, now."

Yukino pulled back from Mushu-chan, though she laid down instead of getting up. "Just give me a minute..."

[death---dealer]

“you can’t die. please don’t die.” with walter ? (you're like. the only person writing for him right now as far as i know and im Desperate)

THIS MAKES ME WONDER IF YOU’D ASK FOR THIS IF I WASN’T THE ONLY ONE WRITING FOR HIM BUT IT’D BE MY PLEASURE. IM ALSO COMBINING THIS WITH ANOTHER WALTER REQUEST.

Title: Please.Pairing: ( Implied )Walter x Reader.Fandom/Franchise/Film: Alien Covenant.Words: 1,355.Rating: T. (Mentions of blood, gore. )

“No…” You said, the sound echoing off the mosaic-like structure you found yourself in. The walls scaled yards upwards and it only seemed to stretch out for as far as you could see in the lack of light. What little luminescence you had bounced off the water flooding on the ground from impacted rain and seemed to lighten up your surroundings enough for you to highlight Walter’s body in front of you. Had you actually recovered your flashlight earlier, things would have been different. He would have seen just how afraid you were. Regardless of this, you were sure that the meager sound of your voice was enough to tell him that you were indeed frightened.

A static like crackling slid through the air in a rather breathless sort of way. It clung to the outer parts of the large room dancing around, whirling before making its way to your ear. Once there, it sent a small shudder down your spine. Licking your bottom lip, you pushed away the taste of sweat on your tongue. Irrationality was something you couldn’t afford, all the while you found yourself lunging towards Walter to protest once again. Walter caught hold of your shoulder with his left hand, cupping your mouth in his right. From the closeness, you could see the words scratched onto his expression. His mouth was slightly agape, as if he was ready to protest your own digression. Speaking too loudly would draw attention to your location. Bottom lip shaking in terror, Walter gazed down at you. You had only been this close to the Synthetic three or four times, yet each time you found it amazing ecstatic to feel some sort of lingering heartbeat under his fingertips.

He obviously had no real heart yet Walter found himself reacting as if he did when he was put in front of you. But, this was not an ideal place to think like that. Walter needed to focus.

Your dirtied weapon clicked against his fingers as he reached upwards to stop you from letting go of it and allowed it to rest against his chest rather than your own. The imminent danger around every possible corner, every crevice of the strange ship you were in was a reminder than losing your weapon would not be wise, and he knew better than to let you lose it at a moment like this. Tears built up around your eyes, falling and swirling with the mixture of blood, mud and sweat that was stuck to your face. You couldn’t seem to get the taste of the planet off your tongue as you struggled to breath, struggled to think straight and refused to accept anything that Walter had just proposed to you.

Wait, you thought to yourself and blinked back a few drops of blood from the slash on your forehead. There was a small pulse where the cut was, like a headache but not as intense. It was more of a ghost-like pressure on your skin. You supposed the adrenaline in your body was messing with your nerves. Pain wasn’t registering regularly and accurately, but you were sure when you finally manage to get off the planet, rest and think about the nightmares here, it’ll all come back to you. In small doses first, gently creeping itself into your mind and into your vision, before engulfing you in complete and utter chaos in the form of dreams and remembrances that the universe wasn’t peaceful. It was far from it.

There were only a handful of your crew left. Not even, you looked up at Walter and took a deep breath in. Shutting your eyes, you focused and attempted to think about something other than the nightmares already plaguing your mind. Maybe one or two, including the Synthetic currently holding you so you didn’t collapse against the cold, damp ground. Maybe that many were still alive, if you were lucky.

He repeated what he had said only moments before. “You must leave, now. Find who you can and leave. David won’t stop until he gets what he wants. I’ll try to stall him, you just need to get out of here before he finds you.” Your eyes fluttered open and caught hold of his bright eyes. Even in this evil darkness, they managed to be lively and unclouded. Walter remained as calm as he was in any other situation. There were no registering emotions for this sort of predicament, and it would be a waste to show fear when you were leaking it from your very core. Cupping your shoulders, he picked you up slightly and let one of his hands fall to your chin and forced you to look at him. The touch only lasted a second before he tore his hand away and diligently rested them by his side. “You must go.”

“Walter-”

“He will kill you, (Name).” Walter said to you you and if you listened closely enough, you could hear the creeping melancholy seeping behind his voice, “I was made to serve, let me do what I was programmed to do.”

Shakily releasing what little breath was collected in your lungs, you stepped forward cautiously, cocking your weapon upwards and holding it against your chest as if telling him that you weren’t going anywhere, you finally digressed his words with your own, “I can’t just leave you here. He’ll…. He’ll kill you too.” Walter stared at you, letting your voice slowly leak into his memory. It was a sound he surely wanted to remember if he was going to get stuck on this godforsaken planet; it was a sound he wanted to replay over and over before complete darkness overtook him.

“You can’t die… Please don’t die…” You begged, reaching up and touching his right cheek. You could feel the smoothness if his external skin, feel the warmth rushing through your fingers and up your arm. “Let me stay, let me fight him with you. We can… We can do it…” The grip on your weapon increased with the severity of your words. You knew what you were doing was completely off the charts, and perhaps even unheard of. A human ready to fight for the survival of a Synthetic. They weren’t even human though they could look at you with the most humanistic traits and emotions swirling behind their gazes. Seafoam eyes that you could literally get lost in if you dared to dive into them. That’s what you wanted to do right now. You wanted to drown and get lost in them. If only you could.

“That’s irrational.” He informed you gently, reaching up and touching your shoulder. It was a meager grazing of his fingers against your clothed skin but made you shudder regardless. “He will kill you, (Name).”

“I’ll find a way to come back for you…” You whispered weakly, pressing your free hand against his chest. You knew there was nothing there but for a split second you swore you could have felt some sort of heartbeat under your damp finger tips. That was an immature promise to make. A line from some cheesy movie made years and years ago.

“There’ll be nothing to come back for,” Walter told you.

It was hard to hear and hard to absorb, but deep down, you knew it was the truth and making pitiful promises like some hero wasn’t going to serve you any favors in the situation you were in. You needed to get out, you needed to catch your ride out of this literal hell, but not before saying. “I’m sorry,” Your voice was meagerly above a whisper, but loud enough for him to hear properly. “I wish…”

“It’s quite alright,” Walter said, his eyes scanning the room once again. They finally rested on you when he picked up no movements in the near darkness. Your breathing was becoming a bit more sporadic out of minor fear, your heart rate elevated, and your fingers were fidgeting with your weapon, Walter took notice. “I do understand. It was a privilege to have met you and served for you, (Name).”

DID I LEAVE IT ON A CLIFFHANGER FOR A REASON? yes. yes i did.

Hope you all enjoyed! Reblogs, likes and comments are all appreciated!

-Em.

[therisingtempest]

{tales} Welcome Home

When Airn had rescued the creature now named Jeska, the fuzzy stubby clumsy thing had been the length of his arm and the weight of a Fomoiri toddler and seemed to grow by the day. The voyage back to Mag Mell had been a joyous one. Airn kept the wobbly cub confined to his cabin and Jeska seemed pleased with this domain. Having been snatched from a vast and lonely place, he warmed instantly to this cozy space and the strange tall un-fuzzy thing who'd picked him up and carried him away. He ate twice as much as the largest sailor, and bounded around the captain's cabin and across his bed, snuggling up at night, playing ambush with the captain's boots at all hours.

Though the voyage was a long one, the step between a secluded but noisy place and an open, larger space seemed too big to jump for the cub. Jeska's mischievous antics withdrew into flat ears and low body posture. Even his fur seemed duller, no more shimmering in the light. He dodged hands reaching out for pets and at any opportunity—meaning when Airn hadn't picked him up—he'd bolt and hide under beds and other furniture, making strange trilling noises that escalated in pitch when anyone bent down to peek at him.

It took many weeks but eventually, after long hours of tempting with food and soft noises, and then even longer hours of sitting very still and letting the oversized kitten creep out of hiding to investigate on his own, Airn found a sort of balance with his newest pet and the household followed suit. It wasn't long before the oversized housecat was back to playing ambush, this time with people's feet as they walked past tables or around piles of cushions.

And by Balor did he grow. Yet even when his shoulders were at level with Airn's knee, he still moved like a newborn: waddling around, wavering unsteadily, falling, occasionally picking up too much speed on the manor's marble floors and skidding, sliding, yelping into a wall.

Airn bought and scattered a lot of rugs after bringing Jeska home.

Though they'd made leaps and bounds in progress, the little thing hadn't quite worked out yet when Airn would like alone time with whomever was moaning in his bed. More than once he'd had the lust startled right out of him when a sixty-pound kitten landed on his back or his feet.

But he loved the little orphan creature. Immediately, on sight, and then with increasing intensity as Jeska slowly but surely made himself a fixture in the household. The worried soft trilling noises turned to pleased chuffing and headbutts, along with a fair few rumbling purrs when stroking hands hit the right rhythm. He gnawed on those hands as well, but never to draw blood. Still, his jaws were strong and even Airn had bruises.

When his coat began to shine again, Airn brought the cub to the beach.

Thankfully only children were brave enough to approach as they seemed to not startle Jeska as much as adults. Probably something to do with being closer to him in size, though the little ones could definitely still ride him if he'd allow it. Or maybe Jeska simply recognized other cubs. Either way, he stayed still for the awed coos and only yowled a little when his tail was pulled. He even gave second chances to ear-yanking hands eager to touch the shining soft coat and the little fuzz-covered horns and the strange feathered plumage under his chin. Gone was the skittish kitten, no longer withdrawn and small but preening and pouncing, headbutting small backs for more attention, rolling around on the sand, batting large paws at his new friends with claws retracted.

The water, he seemed less excited for.

They played tag and retreat with the surf for nearly an hour, Airn jogging alongside him and laughing every time the cub startled and bounded back away from the froth. Every single time. The children thought it a hysterical game at first, but eventually grew bored and wandered off.

Jeska was too fascinated, too far into play-ambush to follow them. He tried a more cautious approach, lowering onto his belly, wiggling forward as though he could sneak up on the sea. As though he stalked through vegetation instead of dragging a trench over sand. Airn laughed at this as well, though he laid down right beside him, pulling his own weight forward on his elbows and knees. This strategy, too, ended in a yelp and panicked fleeing.

“Come on!”

Laughing the words, Airn pushed to his knees and remained there, unaffected by the next wave that crashed up against his back and frothed around him. Jeska blinked, suspicious, bounced on his back paws, and made that anxious agitated trilling noise as he hadn't for weeks. Airn beckoned at him, whistled and cajoled. Jeska lowered his head to his front paws, haunches raised in the air and wiggling with every lash of his tail. He made a sound like whining, pounced forward, and then scattered back again.

Airn chuckled, and on the next wave splashed some of the sea up at the stubborn cat. Jeska yowled and hissed, bolting back further. Fur and feathers puffed to make him larger, and he made a new kind of clicking sound. A brief spark of cyan blue sparkled along the swirling stripes on his coat. Airn laughed harder, but shook his head.

“It's just water, baby. There's nothing to fear, I swear it.”

He stood from the sea, trekking up toward his cowering pet and dropped to a squat a good dozen feet away, respectful of the wariness in every shivering line of the cub's body.

“Just like the baths, only bigger. Saltier. You like the bath, aye? C'mere.”

He held out his arms and waited until his legs began to ache, calling on the patience that had him sleeping on marble floors not so long ago on the off chance a sleek junglecat kitten would creep out of hiding to investigate. Strange. He never waited for anything in life but the affection of those he loved.

Jeska eventually crawled toward him, sniffed and licked at the saltwater on his fingers, then butted his head against his knee with a short vibrating purr. Airn scooped the cub up carefully, crooning and shushing as he turned back for the water.

The cub made the same trilling noise in his chest cavity that Airn was fairly sure now was meant to be some sort of threat gesture. Maybe when he got bigger, it'd be scarier, but now it just made him sound pitiful and scared. Airn stroked over the gleaming coat and kissed his nose.

“You know this whole place is surrounded by water. You can't get away from it.”

Jeska looked back into his eyes with a strange intelligence that made Airn pause with just his feet in the surf. For a moment they studied each other, baby and adult, divided by species but joined as orphans. Abandoned by the world until someone thought it worth their time to pick them up. Then Jeska craned his neck to look at the water below him and yowled pitifully.

Airn laughed. “I'll not take no for an answer. Come on. We'll go slow. I'll be right with you.”

And they did, Airn walking into the waves with an easy, lazy stride. Jeska climbing him for higher and higher ground with a similar easiness and the occasional warning snap at higher waves. But when the water lapped at Airn's shoulders and Jeska's paws and the grip of tiny claws on his head proved problematic, the pirate lord carefully pried his pet off and slipped him into the water.

Jeska whined like he had at the beginning, paddling frantically, trying in vain to climb back atop Airn's head where the sea couldn't get him. Airn easily maneuvered just out of range, but did not leave him alone.

“There, see? It's not so bad.”

He could've sworn the cub actually absorbed his words and considered them. Jeska's ears pricked up, outmatching his baby horns in terms of height, and he paddled around in a curious circle. Briefly startled by his half-submerged tail, he nearly chomped on it to Airn's delight. The attempt still got him a nose- and mouthful of saltwater and he sneezed mightily.

“Here, Jeska. Look at me.”

The kitten did, after a moment and a few more whistles and circles in the water, still in the process of learning his name. Airn took a deep obvious breath and ducked under the water. Above him, he saw deftly paddling paws the size of his palm and a swishing tail and then—a snout and eyes peering down at him. Bubbles erupted from the kitten's mouth and the face disappeared above again. Airn came up laughing, grabbing his pet and heading for shore as the poor thing coughed and sneezed.

When they reached shallows again where Jeska could touch land, Airn expected another bolting retreat inland. But the cub only bounded away a bit, shook himself violently, blinked at his rescuer, sneezed again, and ran back toward the surf. The charge was sloppy and he stumbled and faceplanted into the water and Airn almost choked on a snort, falling back onto wet sand to laugh from his gut. He could hear Jeska splashing and sneezing and making that clicking noise at the water. Sitting up a bit he watched the big kitten bat his big clumsy paw at the seafoam like it were a bad playmate.

They spent the rest of the day there, at the edge of the beautiful ocean, darting in for longer and longer stretches of time before bolting back out. The children returned at some point, overjoyed when Jeska chased them along the tideline, splashing through pools and kicking up sand. The day passed quick and eventually happy exhaustion and hunger drove Airn from the beach. He called for Jeska, but the kitten hesitated, blinking at him.

“Come on.” Airn jerked his head with a click of his tongue. “What? Now you don't want to leave?”

Jeska looked between him and the gentle sea, the lapping waves, the light of sunset bathing the water bronze. Most of the children had gone. Jeska tried a few more playful bounds, looking back at Airn hopefully. The pirate laughed.

“We'll come back tomorrow, how's that?”

Again, that strange flicker of understanding and consideration in purple eyes. The cub performed one more back-and-forth glance, then seemed to decide his friend was more important than the fun of the water and trotted to follow. Airn bent to scritch behind his horns, smiling at the rumbling low trill that edged his fingers like a purr.

“I knew you'd like it.”