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Guys. Guys they’re miners. They’re tiny cogless miners. Guys
I blacked out and filled the whole three canvases with sketches of them being itty bitty goobers. Figured Imma show you some haha
#maccadam#transformers#prowl#jazz#tf one#transformers one#tf one jazz#tf one prowl#jazzprowl#<- if you want it to be haha#I can’t stop thinking#like#I check ao3 very regularly and#okay bruh just. I know the movie absolutely wasnt about Jazz nor Prowl but I still feel the urge to write something about them#just like. slice of life thing but considering their life is kinda sucks because of the whole no-cog thing#Jazz talks smth like twice for the whole movie and Prowl doesn’t talk at all. That’s a lot of creative freedom to write haha#I want them to do their classic stealth missions type of shit but this time without any actual support from any kind of system#you get me#they both usually have some kind of command structure behind them. I want them to be absolutely broke low class tiny goobers#and still manage to pull their usual shady crazy stuff#idk#something like that
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*head in hands*
#how much do you wanna bet they don't even know who mumbo is#he's (likely) even making a cameo in the movie and you still claimed him??#wb bro he was the only one in your corner#david zaslav once again tanking a project on purpose i guess#if this movie ends up as yet another shady tax write-off I'm gonna lose my mind#mumbo jumbo#mumbo#Minecraft Movie#a Minecraft movie#docm77#docm#david zaslav#warner bros#Minecraft#minecraft youtube#mcyt
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Nikolai and Price going to an evening game of poker with some of Nik's "friends", John sitting with his guard up as he's surrounded by a group of dangerous international criminals, all of them carrying guns, all of them glancing at him with a curious look. Price is uncomfortable but doesn't show it, while Nikolai is awfully relaxed considering the situation.
The evening goes on, drinks, cigars and hearty laughs are shared around the table, the bets reaching numbers Price doesn't even make in half a year. It would be a problem, if he wasn't winning most of the rounds, piles of cash gathering around him as he feels the tension build in the room. One of the younger guys, another russian speaker, starts getting an attitude about it around two hours in, and Nikolai immediately puts him in his place with a single sentence Price doesn't understand, his voice booming, as intimidating as he could be, a heavy silence falling inside the room as the lad with an attitude sits back down, eyes not even daring to look at Nik. The silence is only broken by Nik again, a warm laugh leaving his lips and the other men joining him, their nervousness barely hidden.
It had been so easy for Nik to command the room, and even after the tension had diminished, Price could see how much respect these men had for him, while also clearly being scared shitless of the man. Price had rarely felt more attracted to him as he did at that moment, and the wink and smirk Nikolai gave him when he noticed him looking in his direction absolutely did not help.
John eventually left the table, excusing himself for a moment but squeezing Nik's hand briefly as he got up, moving deeper in the building they were using for their game.
A minute later and it's Nik's turn to excuse himself, quickly finding Price who immediately grabs him by the collar of his open shirt and presses his lips against his, Nik hungrily returning the kiss and pushing John against a nearby wall.
When they return to the table, hair tousled, face flustered, all it takes is one glance from Nikolai to shut the others up. This is his territory, this is where he's comfortable, surrounded by dangerous men who show him respect and never dare to cross him.
It's easy for John to forget how natural this all is for his partner, and if Nikolai brought him here tonight to assert his dominance and show off a little, just so he could impress John, well, that mission sure was a success.
#cod#nikprice#cod nikolai#john price#captain price#nikolai cod#yeah okay I couldn't fall asleep last night and the sudden thought of shady poker night came to mind#I just fucking love seeing Nik just fully embracing his shady side#I think most of the time he'd keep this side of him separated from Price#but come on he knows the effect of him being the top dog in the room would have on John#he gets to have a little fun with it from time to time#follow up to this: they leave and have some fun in their car because they are hungry and impatient 👍#anyway yeah idk I'm just blabbering at this point#just throwing ideas into the void and running away don't mind me#my writing#I feel like I need to apologize for this this is probably written so badly but VSHVSHVNUV at least the thoughts have been shared
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Our Strengths
"What do we do now? Tucker asked. His voice cracking with stress and worry as he stared at the scene before him not able to look away as his best friend and his family were being dragged out of their home.
Danny cuffed in anti-ghost cuffs and knocked the heck out with a ecto-gun pointed at his skull by one of the GIW agents, they eventually tossed Danny into their van that was parked right outside the Fenton Works. Jazz was pleading, begging them to let her brother go, even though she too was cuffed and not caring that another gun was at her back. Maddie was hissing like angry feral mama cat at the two agents, ignoring the other two that were holding her shoulders to keep her from squirming around and saying "you dare touch a single hair on my babies I will rip-" before she too was lead away to the GIW van. The last to come out was Jack and he looked haunted and stressed, and despite being a huge guy he was trying to make himself look small. He too was sent into the van, and one of the last things Tucker could see before the doors close was Jack kneeling down next to Danny and going to cradle him but being stopped by the GIW agent in the van.
Sam chewed on her lip, her eyes wide and wild as she tried to think of... well anything to save her friend and his family from this.
To think Vlad would be so petty after Danny finally told his parents about being Phantom and them accepting and loving him regardless and even apologizing for trying to hurt him that he would go and tattle to the GIW about Phantom.
Danny hadn't even told them about Vlad being a halfa either. Not even a bit. All Danny told them was that Vlad made him super uncomfortable. About how the guy seemed obsessed with his mom but seemed to be shifting his obsession to him.
And for once Jack listened, especially after Maddie finally told him the times the man flirted with her and had even tried getting her to leave Jack. With only Danny. No mention of Jazz, only Danny.
After that Jack turned papa bear mode.
Say what you will about Jack Fenton but his love for his family outweighs any kind of friendship.
So yeah Vlad finding himself being 'cut out' of the Fenton's lives, realizing the only times he could even get close to Maddie and Danny was because Jack was always welcoming to him, and finding out Jack point blank said he no longer wanted him around his family, he raged and decided to get back at Danny was to go tell the GIW about him being Phantom.
No doubt the creep was going to show up later, 'save' them and start making demands or indebt them to him.
And now here they were. The Fenton's, after being told about Phantom, were being unjustified hauled away by the GIW while all of Amity watches from the streets and despite the protest from, mostly teens, Amity Parkers no one could do anything with both weapons pointed at them or the 'law' decree.
Closing her eyes, Sam took a breath. When she opened them back up she finally looked away as the van and the rest of the GIW began to leave, her hands clutched so tight that her knuckles were turning a deadly white. When she finally released her grip she felt something in her hand.
Confused, Sam opened her hand and gasped as she recognized a familiarish green sticky note and words written in purple ink. She's never read any of the sticky notes CW would send Danny but she has seen them appear out of no where.
She read the note, ignoring Tuckers questioning, and once done she snapped her head to look at him. It was so fast that Tucker jumped for a second. Her eyes were alight with a new found kindle of hope, determination, and a plan.
"Sam? What is it?" Tucker finally asked once more, he had a feeling whatever she had in mind was going to be insane but if it sent by CW and meant to save his best friend he'd do it.
"We play into our strengths and get some help." She said as she brought the sticky note up for him to see.
"Help? From who?" Tucker asked as he took the note and instantly noticed the drawn symbols on the bottom. When he snapped his head back up to look at Sam his mouth fell open and he said in shock, awe, and disbelief "No. No way. Them? But I thought-"
"Gonna stop you right there Tucker. Remember what Dani told us last month? About that new under the radar teen hero group?" Sam cut in.
"OOoooh. Them.... Yeah I can totally get behind asking them over asking the adults." Tucker responded, his mind coming up with a plan as the sticky note words played into his head 'Use your strengths'
"Good we have no time to loose. I'll contact Dani to find out where we can find their base, you get ready to hack and find what you can so I can use it to help... persuade them into helping us."
-x-x-
Young Justice was having a normal, well as normal as a bunch of super-powered and very well trained teens could have day.
Or at least it was until their comms and entire system were hacked by an unknown hacker, a goth girl appearing on their main sceen and her saying this
"Hey, Young Justice right? Look I'll be blunt about this. We need help, our best friend and his family got taken by some shady government jerks that wanna experiment on him and we need to save them. It's a long story. However, we do not like the JL too much and don't trust them, we have our reasons, so to make sure you don't go crying to them, we're taking your systems hostage and blackmailing you with things our hacker found out." Her eyes narrowed at them, her face in a scowl and it left no room for negotiations at all, she was determined to get things her way "So that's the deal. Help us save our best friend and his family while not letting the JL know, and we let go of your systems and forget about what we found out."
#danny phantom dc#danny phantom#danny fenton#crossover#dp x dc#blue rambles#writing ideas#random idea#dpxdc#sam manson#tucker foley#good fenton family!#Tucker hacks and takes over the YJ systems#Sam is the one who makes the deal with no nonsense attitude#Sam and Tucker are Danny's ride or die#YJ. especially the Core 4 respect that#Tim respects the blackmail abilities tbh#Conner and Bart are always down to take out shady government goons#Cassie totally respects Sam's iron will#teens helping teens out#they have little to no respect to adults#they've all been burned or ignored too much
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I don't know who to send this ask so I'm gonna leave it out here for the public because it just came to me out of the blue: locomotive literature
And I don't mean literature about locomotives, but rather literature written by locomotives
Train biographies detailing their lives on the railway and documenting how things have changed since they were first built
Ghost writers publishing literary works written by trains
Trains with human editors sitting on their buffers as they write down what their engines say and making adjustments for those especially picky or who's words cannot be transcribed because they will be banned otherwise (looking at you Duncan)
Just
Train authors you guys
#ttte#thomas the tank engine#thomas and friends#edward would be the perfect children's author I think#telling stories based on the shenanigans of thomas bill and ben#but also him writing about locomotive hardships and the shady practices surrounding their lives#with published accounts by percy henry and anyone else willing to contribute#Henry writing his experience powering through his time as a train that had several 'health' problems#an icon of perseverance and model for those struggling with their own health problems#thomas being cheeky as usual and publishing a book on all the insults he and his friends used against each other#complete with detailed accounts of how those insults came to be#Gordon and his guide to looking one's best and being as dignified as possible#bill and ben co authoring a practical joke book people#do you all see my vision
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MC finds a large sword in Solomon's room and picks it up.
MC: What’s this?
Solomon: That would be Excalibur.
MC: How did you get Excalibur?
Solomon: People are kind of impressionable. I just did a little magic and convinced them I was Merlin.
MC: Uh huh. Lemme guess, you’ve also got the holy grail stashed away somewhere.
Solomon: Er…
MC: Is this what you’ve been doing with your long life? Pilfering significant artifacts throughout human history?
Solomon: Of course not. I’m safekeeping magical objects so they don’t fall into the wrong hands.
MC: I think it’s too late for that.
Solomon: Ouch...
masterlist | Thank you for reading!
#haven't done one of these in a while#and I dunno the idea just came to me lol#ahh I'm thinking about Solomon a lot again#I love when he's bein a little shady~#nonsense posting#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me solomon#om solomon#obey me mc#om mc#obey me nonsense#misc scenario#misc writes
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What if, instead of the Sorcerers' Society being just a small organization with a headquarters, it was instead a hidden city or capital where not only could sorcerers go to for assistance and to get their licenses, but could safely live and learn without having to put so much effort into hiding their magic from general human public? (Something similar to Witch Hat Atelier perhaps)
A hidden away capital with houses and apartments and magical shops selling everything a sorcerer would ever need. Where they can safely converse on the street and network and apprentices can talk to each other and swap tales of their lessons and masters.
Out in the expanse of the human world, it's hard to come by each other so having a place to live like that would be great.
But also it would make Solomon getting chased out by a dragon so much funnier (or sadder) since he and the mystery apprentice would have been the ones to found the Sorcerers' Society in the first place.
He would probably own his own house there and come back there whenever there was a meeting he had to attend or some urgent matter to discuss. Solomon wouldn't stay there longer than he usually had to and his property is usually empty.
But when sorcerers usually take in an apprentice, that apprentice lives with their master in order to make the most of learning opportunities and a lot of them tend to move back to the Sorcerers' Society for convenience.
If Solomon was able to convince MC to live with him for "educational purposes" completely separate from the brothers and Devildom, who's to say he wouldn't give living amongst his peers an honest try once more?
#obey me shall we date#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me!#obey me mc#obey me solomon#i have a really great fic idea for this so hopefully i can write it out#worldbuilding my beloved#i really want to lean into solomon being so proud of the MC for their progress#and he would absolutely take any chance he can get to show off his apprentice or brag#he's insufferable and i love him#it'd be even funnier if solomon wasnt liked or trusted too much so when everyone hears hes moving back with the new apprentice#they all prepare for the worst with MC but then they meet the MC and are like ??? wtf they're a darling?? why are THEY his apprentice???#shady sorcerer and lovely apprentice duo they never saw coming
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How to NOT find out you're adopted
The fun thing about dying was that it messed with your mind. Well it wasn't fun perse but well it was an expirence. It was espacially fun if you have died twice.
And the best part was. Finding out through dying that you're adopted. Really Danny wanted to sarcastically applaud someone for that.
Because when he stepped into his parents portal and turned it one by pretty much dying through electrocution and then getting revieved by the portal that opened on top of him, life decided that wasn't enough drama. Because at that time a whole set of apparently lost memories reopend.
Good point. In the months after his portal accident he had been to busy to deal with that. Bad point, once he had the time to think about it he wanted to rip his hair out cause apparently that portal accident had not been his first death but second death.
Like it wasn't enough that he didn't have any memory's of anything before the age of five before, got some freaky but awesome ghost powers, no his memories has to return too.
And he didn't like it when they did.
Because that meant he now had to remember his oh so gracious grandfather killing him by throwing him into the Lazarus Pit as sacrifice. Really getting drowned wasn't fun as a first death.
Because that meant he was the son of a crime fighting furry. Someone he barely knew anything but his vigilante name and all the praises his bio mother used to brainwash him with.
Because that meant he had a brother that was likely still getting brainwashed by probably both their bio mother and the lunatic of a grandfather.
Because that meant a realization that the Lazarus Pit was nothing more than a ecto-variant. Which, screw that he now got revived two times through that shit too.
But most of all that meant he was fucking adopted and his parents didn't bother to tell him at all. Now, he really didn't feel bad anymore about not telling them about Phantom.
Really as if being half ghost wasn't messing with his life enough now he was starting to get worried about this grandfather's cult and the crime fighting Bat.
At least they wouldn't come to Amity Park, right?
#danny fenton#danny phantom#dp x dc#dpxdc#dcxdp#damian wayne#bruce wayne#ra al ghul#talia al ghul#demon twin au#Well at least he was save from them in Amity...#...nope he was not#bruce started investigating Vlads shady deals now#and the Mansons so happe d to invide him to a gala#perfect chance to snoop around#of course he would give the local hero the courtesy of letting them know he was there#late night stress writing#random late night thoughts#dc x dp prompt#have fun with this#prompt idea
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this is not a ship post, but something that frustrates me a lot in fanon concerning Jason Todd that attempts to soften Jason's return to Gotham for the sake of found family domesticity or easy hurt/comfort or just sliding him into the Batfam sooner, is they all seem to fundamentally misunderstand Jason.
because there seem to be a lot of fandom popular concepts of Jason coming home much sooner and just not having his whole Under The Red Hood arc. which in theory is fine and i can see the want to simplify canon to make room for your lighthearted more fluff-leaning concepts. but in everyone without fail, the way they address the clown-shaped elephant in the room is by having some throwaway line that "oh Jason quietly kills the Joker and moves on".
when the Joker being dead or alive is not the *point*. if by some chance accident, the Joker had died prior to Jason's return, whether by ridiculous freak accident, getting whacked by a fellow villain, hell even someone actually doing so to avenge Jason, it *would not* satiate Jason's anger. because Jason's end goal in UtRH is not to simply kill the Joker: it is to make *Bruce* kill the Joker. Jason's anger is directed to the idea that to Jason, if Bruce truly loved Jason, he would've killed the Joker. that is love, for Jason. compromising your personal values for love and not letting someone go unavenged. when Jason was Robin, almost every angry or misguided thing he did was born of love. he wanted to kill/hurt Two-Face because he believed Dent killed his father. he was so angry at Felipe because an innocent woman was dead due to that man's actions. he wanted to save his mother in a situation he knew he shouldn't be in because he loved her. his anger, his violence, it is driven by love and feelings of righting wrongs. that is how he thinks wrongs *should* be righted. that is how you avenge and *love* someone.
because so long as Jason's return to Gotham doesn't end in Bruce killing the Joker (which, it never will bc Bruce is Bruce), Jason will never forgive Bruce. you cannot wave away the layers of hurt and complicated trauma by killing Joker offscreen. because Jason will still be angry that Bruce didn't avenge him. in his eyes, that means Bruce did not love him enough. he was not truly loved by Bruce the way he loved Bruce. bc Bruce was Jason's whole *world*. prior to being taken in, Dick and Tim, they had support systems. they had loved ones. they knew what stability and healthy family love looked like. Jason *didn't*. and that's not to say that Catherine Todd did not love him with her whole heart and thus he loved her, but it certainly wasn't a stable and safe support system for Jason to grow up in. Bruce was Jason's first real sense of a stable, healthy life. and so of course Jason poured everything into Bruce and loved Bruce so devoutly. Bruce was his world. like he says, if it had been Bruce, Jason would've stopped at nothing.
so his betrayal is rooted in that he was not avenged, not that Joker is alive. so long as the Joker does not die by Bruce's hands, it will never be enough for Jason. (in this era, at least.) notably, this is also why i don't think it would change a thing if Jason knew the whole "oh Bruce wanted to kill the Joker but Superman stopped him" tidbit that fanon has really latched onto as a way to pacify Jason's anger toward Bruce. Jason knowing that wouldn't change a thing, in my opinion. because Jason knows Bruce. and a tenant of Bruce's character is that he grapples with murder *every day*. the whole point is how *easy* it would be for him. he is a human weapon, trained by killers, trained to be deadly. he is the greatest strategist to exist. he knows he could kill someone and get away with it. *no* trace, no proof, nothing. and he knows he *wants* to. wants to kill the Joker, Joe Chill, anyone who's hurt him that viscerally.
but he *doesn't*. that's the point. Bruce wakes up every day with that question on his mind, and every day the answer is the same. Bruce's morality is not a decision he made in an alleyway when his parents died, it's a decision he continues to make every day and he *must* continue to make in order to remain who he is. Jason is quite familiar with the fact that Bruce grapples with this daily. i do not think it surprised nor fazed Jason to know that Bruce did *consider* killing the Joker. that he wanted to. maybe even planned to. but a consideration, a want, a plan, is just a thought. it's nothing substantial, and substance is everything to Jason. at the end of the day, Bruce didn't. he was talked down by *Clark* of all people with an excuse of diplomatic immunity, as if Jason and Bruce don't both know that Bruce could've *easily* found a way to make it look like an accident or some other loophole. because he's Batman. there's always a loophole. he always finds a way when he actually intends to. but he never actually intended to kill the Joker. so he didn't. and Jason would know that there was never an intent. it's an interesting piece of fodder to add to the nuance of Jason and Bruce, but honestly, i think it'd make Jason angrier to have that excuse thrown in his face. as if Bruce hasn't beaten Clark half a dozen times by now. it's a flimsy nonsense excuse that Jason would rip to shreds.
so while yes, i understand the wish for easy lighthearted fanfic that doesn't have to deal with the nuances of canon, i think that Jason's character will always be so deeply robbed and altered if you try to fix his thirst for vengeance with an off-page killing of Joker at Jason's hands. it was never the point. the point was that -in his own eyes- he wasn't loved enough for Bruce to make an acception. he realized that not even his *death* would come before Bruce's Mission. Jason truly believed that Bruce loved him and held him as the most important thing in the world, and now he has proof that Bruce didn't. because the Mission mattered more.
i'm not saying i have a solution to this conundrum if you're attempting to solve it for fanfic/fanon, nor am i even saying it's a bad thing it exists. i just think it becoming overwhelmingly common has led to misunderstandings surrounding Jason's motivations and feelings about this arc and it's an unsatisfying solution that only seeks to pacify Jason's rage and his trauma responses for the sake of found family-ification.
#necrotic festerings#jason todd#fandom meta#idk man this isn't too serious it's really just me noticing this becoming a dominate thing#also this post isn't a subtweet at literally anyone specifically#it's a commentary on a trend as a whole#so no one think i'm like. being shady pls.#and if you write jason killing the joker himself during this era that is okay and it's valid#i just don't want the fandom largely treating it as in character#but ooc fanfic is allowed to exist! that's valid yk!#also i once again wanna reiterate all of this is commentary on *this era*#this is a pre-flashpoint meta.#jason's realtionship to his trauma *wildly* changed in both new-52 and rebirth so yeah. he's at a point he's “moved on”#and either seeks to kill joker himself or seeks to just let go of the whole thing#depending on the arc#(but if i get into that then i get into my feelings on how jason has had no consistent characterization in the past decade. so.)#(that's a can of worms we're not opening here it will make some ppl mad and i'm not dealing with it.)#is this how i start writing serious character metas and not unhinged shippy ones. idk#i've got others in my head but#i fear the discourse#if the discourse on this post gets bad i will turn off replies and reblogs idc#this is me testing the waters. ig.#also if a single person tries to argue about tim not having a loving family i will bite you /lh#yes he did. the drakes make not have done the *best* job! i'm not arguing that.#but they loved him and he had a support system.
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How in God's green Earth am I finding fics with the tag "I haven't watched the show sorry!"
#arcane#Like I don't want to be shady#But what in the fuck#How#AND HOW ARE YOU WRITING ABOUT THEM#“may be out of character”#OH YOU THINK?#jayce talis#arcane jayce#jayce x viktor#jayvik#viktor arcane#viktor league of legends
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a cool thing about writing bleach fanfic is that i have read certain parts of the canon so many times that i feel like i know it really well and then i'll realize there's something i have absolutely no clue about. today's example: in the wake of Ichigo storming Soul Society, how widespread was the knowledge that Urahara had been assisting him?
Aizen knew, obvs, for Aizen reasons, but some of the stuff he mentions, like Urahara's known base of operations being in West Rukongai-> the involvement of known Urahara associates Shiba Kuukaku and Shihouin Yoruichi and other clues probably had a number of characters such as Yamamoto, Ukitake, Kyouraku, Unohana suspicious. I feel like Soi Fon and Kurotsuchi could easily have put it together as well, but I did not get that vibe from them so either they didn't or they were just too distracted or in Kurotsuchi's case, he probably did put it together and just didn't care (or pretended not to care)
When the captains finally show up in Hueco Mundo, we learn that Urahara had been working with the Gotei for some time so obviously his involvement has been known at some high enough level of security clearance.
Did Byakuya ever officially report the fact that Ichigo Hollowified right in front of him, which may not have meant much to him, but probably would have been a big tip-off to Yams. On one hand, it does not feel very Byakuya of him to leave something like that out of a report, but on the other hand, I really feel like he just kept it to himself.
Would Rukia have mentioned Urahara in her debriefings after she was arrested? On one hand, I do not think she understood who Urahara was and would not have thought much of mentioning him. On the other hand, Rukia is a "snitches get stitches" type to the marrow of her bones and I feel like she would have intentionally wiped any mention of him from her narrative 99% on principle and 1% for the purposes of protecting Ichigo
If I were banished from Soul Society and hiding out in the Living World, I would use an assumed name, probably all the time, but AT VERY LEAST for the case of interacting with active-duty shinigami. The only person who actually did this was Isshin and I honestly believe he just changed his name for wife-guy reasons.
Ichigo did, very much, straight up tell Ikkaku that Urahara taught him to fight and it was quite clear that Ikkaku was fully aware of who Urahara was. Did Ikkaku tell anyone this or otherwise do anything with this information? I feel like he did not.
Does Ikkaku have a security clearance???????
I would not give Ikkaku a security clearance
If I were going 100% by the manga, I would assume that Yoruichi ghosted after they failed to arrest Aizen, given that she's still very much banished, but in Honey Dish Rhapsody, she apparently hung around with Soi Fon for a while. Is it possible that she had some meetings with the Gotei higher ups in the interests of re-establishing a relationship/working on getting the banishment reversed? My heart wants to say no, but Yoruichi often makes herself freely available to the Gotei in filler arcs, so who knows?
When the Advance Team first goes to the Living World, Renji goes to stay at Urahara's in the interest of "asking" Urahara why he put the hogyoku in Rukia (I assume "asking" is a euphemism for breaking his nose). I feel like this could be the natural follow-on to the idea that Renji just got handed a file of classified info related to this mission and is freshly Hot Mad at this dude he didn't know existed up until now.
Presumably, Rukia also could have given Renji a more detailed version of her time in Karakura in a non-official capacity
Presumably also, the Karakura kids could have gone around telling anyone who would listen about their Mysterious Shop Keeper Friend
I think the answer I'm leaning towards is that the Gotei higher-ups knew about Urahara's involvement and re-established communication with him, possibly in an obfuscated way so as not to run into trouble with Central 46 (fairly easy to do, since they were dead at the time). It's a pretty poorly kept secret, but on the other hand, Gotei op-sec seems to lean pretty heavily on the assumption that people who accidentally learn state secrets don't know what they are looking at and will most likely forget it in a day or two anyway.
#urahara kisuke#this isn't even something that matters to the canon material because they just skip straight to the next arc and it's fine#but if you're a girl trying to write a story that takes place in soul society between the two arcs#sometimes all of sudden you're like 'wow i bet renji doesn't even know who urahara is'#also it's kinda fun to think about yamamoto in his office during the ryouka invasion#sasakibe: “sir...you don't think it could be...?”#yamamoto: “...motherfucker”#i like to imagine that urahara had the exact vibes as some shady fence rukia knew in inuzuri or something#i feel like normal shinigami would not have interacted with him in the very specific way that rukia did#but nearly all of bleach happened b/c rukia is built different and this is no exception
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I miss being in love with words and beautiful prose. I miss typing out stories so enchanting they twist from ink to life, painting entire worlds with each stroke of the pen. I miss the thrill of the written word, the shiver of excitement that accompanied a newfound plot point.
But I fear that adoration has been eclipsed by a thirst for adulation—an ache for worldly acclaim that devours me whole, leaving behind the rotten carcass of a linguistic soul. A soul long buried and burned, laid to rest in the forgotten purgatory of withered pages and blotted ink.
For what good are words if they are never read? What good are stories if they are never told? What good is an author if they are never known?
#guess who's back#back again#shady's back---#hayatheauthor#writing community#haya sameer#writing tools#writer community#writer things#haya: writes#haya: talks#writer on tumblr#creative writing#writerscommunity#writeblr#writer stuff#writer life#writer mood#on writing#writing life#spilled poetry#writers and poets#poems on tumblr#poets on tumblr#the tortured poets department
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Missing Piece
@piperjistic had asked for a forest spirit and while this isn't fully in line with your request, I still hope you'll like it!
Minor warnings ahead for non-graphic violence and a wee bit of body-horror towards the end, though it doesn't happen to the main character. Please be sure to take care of yourself!
*.*.*
For as long as the little girl could remember, it felt like something was missing within her. She could never put a finger on it, but it made her a restless child, picking up and discarding games, struggling with consistently staying interested and some days she just felt very strange.
Like that one stained glass window she had seen when her parents had taken her to a nearby city. All disjointed fragments that still managed to be a picture, but it would never be one entire piece.
The stained glass window at least had been pretty compared to the ugly feeling within her.
"Have you ever felt like something is missing inside you?" she asked her grandma, who came to pick her up many a day while her parents worked.
Things were strange between Gran and her parents, she never talked to them and they never talked to her and she never set foot onto their garden, preferring to wait for the little girl at the gate by the little dirt road.
Gran stilled and when the little girl glanced up at her, her face had gone dark and grim and for the first time in the girl's life, her beloved grandma, a joyful soul who loved her with all her heart, looked just a little bit frightening.
But her hand around the girl's remained gentle and the older woman kept walking at a sedate pace so her short little legs didn't struggle with keeping up.
Everyone always said to the girl that she would grow to be bigger and she couldn't wait for that day to arrive. Gran was silent for so long that the girl thought she was never going to answer.
"You best ask your parents about that," Gran said at last, voice quiet and heavy with something unspoken. Strangely, her voice reminded the girl of a draft horse she had seen, who had been forced to pull a too heavy burden, body straining as it slowly and laboriously set one hoof in front of the other.
"Alright," the girl answered and grinned up at her grandmother, hoping to break up the awful mood her innocent little question had created. "Can we make blueberry cake today?"
Gran smiled and it was like the sun returning after a dark, scary storm, her face brightening and looking as kind and loving as ever. "Of course, little chestnut." She leaned in, voice dipping into a conspiratorial stage whisper, "My wife picked an entire basket just this morning."
The little girl giggled and soon the two of them reached the end of the village, all talk about missing pieces and resulting, scary expressions forgotten. The blueberry cake was delicious and maybe a bit messy since the girl had tried to help a bit too enthusiastically and the cute little apron Gran had made for her was stained with purple-blue juice on one corner.
Gran's wife, Tanya, arrived just as they had taken the first bite of a still warm slice of cake.
"You baked without me?" she gasped in a mock scandalized voice. "Oh, the betrayal, how it stings!" She dramatically fell onto the kitchen table and the little girl laughed when the two older women broke out into a full blown performance just to ensure she kept laughing.
Gran brought her back home just as the sun set and a strong, steady wind blew in from the forest, bringing with it the smell of spring moss and damp, cool earth.
"If you ever meet any magical beings, be wary," Gran said as she stopped in front of the gate that creaked noisily as soon as it was two thirds of the way open.
She looked down at the girl, her face serious. "One day you might and if you do, they will offer you deals and nothing good ever comes from accepting their offers. They will only bring ruin in exchange for empty promises."
As solemnly as the little girl could, she offered her little pinky. "I promise to be careful," she said and a shadow of a smile crossed Gran's face as they hooked their pinkies around each other gently.
Gran leaned down to kiss the top of her head before she left with a glance towards the house and the girl briefly glanced towards the forest. It was an old forest, not quite as ancient as in other places, but surrounded by plenty of stories and mysteries.
The girl had heard rumors about creatures living in the woods, of magic being alive in ways the mages in the big cities could never hope to replicate. She decided to be very careful whenever she went into the woods to pick berries and mushrooms. She had promised, after all.
She entered her parents' house, neatly putting her boots beside her mother's and when she looked up at her parents, the question tumbled forth without much thought, "Why do I feel like I'm missing something?"
Her mother, who was currently carving leather, stilled so thoroughly she might as well have turned to stone. Her father, in the process of cooking, seemed to freeze in place, the stirring of his ladle abruptly falling silent.
"You're still growing," her mother answered at last, voice quiet and her gaze on her work. "It will pass in given time."
The little girl stared at her, startled silent and with increasing heartbreak as the seconds passed, for she had just learned what her mother sounded like when she lied.
*.*.*
The conversation with her parents stayed with the girl as the months and years passed and she never asked again. Gran said nothing either, but every time she picked the girl up, she now glared at the house.
Gran knew, the girl realized, but either couldn't say why she felt wrong or she didn't want to tell her.
Though, knowing her Gran, she probably couldn't for some reason. Gran had been born a rebel and she said she would die one, encouraging all of the little girl's bad habits, as her parents called them, with no remorse.
"This world will chew you up and spit you out, if you let it," Gran told her when she picked her up from school, her hand warm and gentle. "So don't be afraid to bare your teeth, little chestnut. Stand up for what you believe is right, that is the only way to slowly but surely kill off all things vile and dark."
The girl wasn't sure she entirely understood, but she nodded seriously anyway. Gran always told her everything no one else wanted to, blunt and direct without scaring her or hurting her feelings.
Gran felt strong, like a rushing river that wore down even the largest, toughest of boulders. The girl hoped she could be like her one day.
It was her Gran's teachings that got her in and out of trouble over the years and her words guided the girl into understanding when something was wrong. And how important it was to do something when she discovered evil.
As the village turned into a cute little town and more and more people moved in, drawing towards a hopeful future by their fertile lands and abundant forest, the girl had grown into a headstrong young woman.
Not once, in all that time, had she shaken off the feeling like she was lacking something. Like something was missing that should be there.
Her parents could no longer deny that something was wrong and their increasingly guilty and troubled looks said it all. It showed in the woman's life, that something within her was gone. As soon as someone looked into the little house she had moved into, they saw that no project was ever finished, every hobby dropped just after she had gained a modicum of skill in it.
She bounced from job to job, working for whoever hired her, before losing that job again, sometimes by leaving, sometimes by more talented, more passionate people coming along.
It was that restlessness that caused her to drift far enough from the town, the feeling of wrongness seemingly guiding her step, to cross paths with what she first thought was a traveling kind of circus.
There was a man leading the entire caravan of wagons, pale and primly dressed, clearly a mage considering his robes and pompous behavior as he hailed her down.
"We are no circus, young lady," he said when she asked about his business, but his eyes were cold and his smile about as pleasant as holding a palm full of slugs. "I am Master Egam and this is my curious collection. I intend to thoroughly impress the local lords."
He made a sweeping gesture at the wagons and she peered past him, at covered cages and grim looking soldiers.
Her gaze almost immediately fell back to the mage, however, and something ugly writhed within her chest. She couldn't put a finger on what it was, but it felt like sharp, uneven edges pressed against her ribs from within, accentuating the feeling of wrongness.
"Now, which way to the nearest town? It's growing rather late," Master Egam said, his smile wide and winning and yet it caused something cold to drip down her spine. There was a sudden taste of wet iron and rotting earth on her tongue.
It took her a moment to realize why, for she had never experienced anything like it. He had put magic into his words and it filled her mouth with a nasty taste. "This way, about a mile or so."
"Why don't you guide us?" he asked, patting the coach beside him. When she hesitated and saw a flash of curious danger in his eyes, she offered a bland smile.
"Thank you," she said, climbing up to join him, careful to keep some distance between them.
He stared at her for a moment and she resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. "You seem strangely...familiar," he mused after a moment. "Have I met you before? Or family of yours?" When she looked genuinely surprised, he shook his head. "Right, that is very unlikely. Then again, you country bumpkins all look the same to me."
She was desperate to distract him from her, which was thankfully easy enough to accomplish. All it took was a question about his exploits and soon he regaled her with all the horrifying details. Of the creatures he captured, the magic he had soaked up from them, the power he carried at his fingertips.
He was bragging, yes, but she could tell that every word was the truth. That he had chained a vampire into enduring sunlight at his leisure, that he had plucked all the feathers of a harpy to parade her around naked and that he had a griffin eating out of his hand for his amusement.
That he had caught one the most dangerous beings of all, a forest spirit.
She was deeply relieved when her hometown came into view and then she got to see the effects of his magic first hand. His voice seemed to be made of gold, for all he had to do was speak and people immediately rushed to obey, star-struck expressions and delighted, downright smitten smiles appearing on their faces.
She inched away from Master Egam and ended up by one of the wagons instead. Unable to resist, she tugged a corner of the covering up and peered inside.
Green eyes that shimmered like all the shades of plant life in the forest met hers and broken antlers rose from red and gold hair that tumbled down in long, thick waves. The forest spirit, she realized as she stared at him, wide eyed, his face sun-kissed and freckled and even chained down as he was she could see his innate power and grace.
The broken antlers disappeared, swiftly replaced by wolf ears as he now bared vicious fangs at her, wicked claws scraping over the iron lining the bottom of his cage as he growled.
"Careful with that one," Master Egam's voice made her jump and drop the tarp. "He's the most dangerous one I ever caught. A nasty piece of work."
"Why do you catch them?" she found herself asking and as she looked up at him, she already knew the answer before he opened his mouth.
"Because I can," he said, his smile as empty as his eyes were cruel. "Because the wild powers in this world need to know that they can and will be tamed. Now run along and don't tell anyone about this."
His magic was iron-rot on her tongue as she nodded, hastily pasting a smile on her face. It felt like fleeing as she turned and hurried away, her heart racing in her chest and the ugly, vile feeling that had scraped around her ribcage finally lessened.
The wrongness within her was as present as ever, a constant companion of subtle misery that dodged her steps, silent only whenever she found joy in things. Joy that was taken from her by its steady, suffocating grip sooner or later.
As soon as she was home, she began to pace, her mind whirring. She had to do something and whatever magic Master Egam possessed, she was somehow immune against it. She might be the only one who could think clearly around him.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to calm. Master Egam was dangerous and she was just a magic-less young woman who was all wrong inside. If she wasn't careful, she wouldn't have to worry about what was missing for much longer.
It wasn't hard, in the end, to find out that Master Egam was staying in the mayor's house, that he had tossed him and his family out and now treated the most lavish place as his. The mayor and his wife and two children seemed dazed but they didn't question what was being done to them, they just went to stay with their extended family.
The wagons were kept by the mayor's house, blocking most of the street and guarded by the soldiers, which were armed and armored.
She watched them as the last sunlight faded, thinking. Beyond the window she could see the mage and people came to his home, bringing downright decadent food with loving smiles and hazy eyes, leaving again empty handed.
An idea began to take form. A foolish one, most certainly, but it was likely her best chance. While Master Egam was busy feasting and ordering people around, most likely fancying himself a king among peasants, he would be distracted.
On second thought, he was most likely not traveling to impress lords, but to work his way up to becoming the actual king of these lands. Maybe even an emperor, holding court among captured creatures and his magic charming everyone into blind obedience.
So she joined a group of townsfolk who came with carefully made little cakes and desserts and they barely acknowledged her. The soldiers didn't even looked at them, most likely long used to this song and dance.
It was less easy to go unnoticed by Master Egam, but the man was easily distracted by the new offerings, already a good way through half the food he had been given.
No human should have been able to consume so much without bursting, she thought and she wondered if this was the price of his magic. That he not only could eat far too much, but had to.
"Bring this to the beasties," he said, gesturing at a little bucket of bones and food scraps and the young woman took a decisive step towards it, keeping her head down as she grabbed the bucket, stepping outside without being stopped. Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot.
The soldiers didn't pay her any heed now either. They looked bored and hungry as they watched another plate of food being brought in, but they said nothing. She wondered if they could even if they wanted to. If they were similarly charmed as anyone else.
"I need to feed them," she said politely to the nearest soldier, who moved woodenly to stare at her with a slightly hazy gaze. Ah, that answered her question. "I need the key, please. Master Egam's orders."
He handed the key over, because why wouldn't he? When everyone was always so fully under the mage's control, there was no reason to doubt. She went to the forest spirit's cage first, ignoring his low growl as she pushed the tarp up and began to look for the lock.
He fell silent as soon as she slipped the key into it and opened the door.
"I'll get you out," she whispered and his head tipped to the side, his wolf ears flicking as he considered her. And then, ever so slowly without removing those intense eyes from her, he tipped his head back, baring his collared throat.
She crawled into the cage, making sure to pull the door almost-closed behind her, the tarp falling down and leaving her in murky darkness with only her slightly fast breathing and pounding heart. She slowly inched forward, patting the ground, until clawed fingers carefully closed around her hand, guiding it up.
The collar had no lock and she stilled, her heart leaping in her chest. What was she supposed to do now?
"Bleed," the forest spirit said, voice such a horrible rasp that she was half convinced his throat was full of glass shards. "Willing offer."
She wasn't even thinking when she reached out with her free hand, gripping his fingers and pressing her palm against his claws. She felt him jerk in surprise, but the pain was already blooming, blood running down her hand in a hot line. She reached out to press her hand to his collar, smearing as much of her blood on it as possible and the next second the collar clicked open, crashing to the floor with a rattle of chains.
The forest spirit inhaled sharply and then she felt his hands touch her shoulder, careful and helping her shuffle a bit to the side. Freeing the path to the cage door, she realized
"Free the others, please," he whispered, his voice no longer sounding like he was gargling gravel, but instead charming and lovely-sweet. Her mouth was filled with the faint taste of meadow-flowers and cool spring water.
Then he was out of the cage and she scrambled to follow him, catching the door before it could slam shut.
The guards were lying on the ground and she saw the forest spirit springing past the last one he had taking down, vaulting over a confused man with a tart and heading straight into the house, face snarling in rage.
The next cage held the plucked harpy, who hissed a high-pitched shriek at her, but fell similarly silent when the door to the cage was unlocked.
Her collar too opened with blood and then the harpy was out, her feathers re-growing with a burst of magic that was almost painful with its relief. She took flight immediately, though she clearly struggled as she escaped, as did the griffin the young woman freed.
The vampire slunk out of his cage with a look of wild hunger and gratitude before he was gone between one moment and the next. Just in time for all the windows in the house to shatter outward in a massive wave of pressure, the forest spirit crashing to the ground, wheezing and covered in blood.
The young woman was at his side in no time and as she gripped him and saw him in the light of the street lanterns without the distractions of his eyes, she realized just how thin he was. How his limbs shook as he struggled to his feet.
He stumbled, eyes going wide when she dragged him with her, just in time to round the corner before Master Egam came out of the house with magic whipping around him, a howl of rage filling the night as he found all his cages empty, his guards unconscious – or perhaps dead – on the ground.
"What are you doing," the forest spirit hissed, but he seemed unable to free himself from her grip, which told her everything she needed to know. She wasn't weak by any means, but she got the impression that he should be far stronger than she.
"Saving you," she hissed back. "You're in no condition to fight!"
"Return them to me!" she heard Master Egam's voice boom behind her, so loud and rattling it filled the entire town, making people cower and stumble, their gazes going hazy. "And find me the one who did this!"
Her mouth was filled with the taste of iron-rot to the point where she had to gag, but she managed to push on, reaching the little house she had moved into after she could no longer stand the guilty silence of her parents. The moment they were through the door, the forest spirit collapsed to the floor, breathing hard, sweating and bleeding.
"His magic," he said as he stared up at her with wide, bright green eyes that she knew she could get lost in if she allowed it. "It doesn't work on you. Why?"
"No idea," she murmured back. "Come, we have to hide you."
She had managed to empty out a large storage chest and squeezed him inside despite his protest just in time for her neighbors to come knocking.
"No one is here, I came looking," she said, heart pounding and blood still dripping from her hand as she gestured at the hastily strewn about contents of her chest. "I made sure they weren't hiding."
"Come help search," her neighbors murmured, gazes hazy and she followed them outside, hoping that the spirit stayed where he was, that he wouldn't be found.
She searched with the others until they were all ready to collapse and only then did Master Egam order them to rest with such fury that the cobblestone cracked around him. He had long since roused his guards – most of which were still alive – and had sent them out to the forest to capture those that had run for the woods.
"They can't go far," she heard him mutter to himself as he turned around to head back into the house. "Not with the state I left them all in."
He wasn't wrong.
When the young woman returned home, she found the forest spirit still in the storage chest, asleep and looking utterly exhausted. She dropped into her bed and slept until hunger forced her awake.
The smell of cooking food woke the spirit as well and she stared in astonished surprise as he ate at an alarmingly fast rate. Half her pantry was gone by the time he curled up in front of the hearth and went straight back to sleep. She dropped a thick blanket on him and arranged pillows to hide him from the outside and sat down, thinking.
Master Egam was powerful and she had no idea if she could hide the spirit until he regained his strength, especially if he needed that much food every day. And even then there was no guarantee that he'd be powerful enough to defeat the mage. But, she reasoned, he might be able to escape, which was just as good in her opinion.
She dozed off and woke feeling warm, blinking blearily to realize the blanket was now draped over her, the pillows carefully arranged to leave her in a little nest. Only the floor beneath her was a little hard. Peering around, alarm searing through her, worrying that something had happened, she relaxed as soon as she saw the spirit.
He stood with his back to her, looking at all the half finished projects she had lying around, not having the heart to put them away, even though she already knew she'd never finish them. That this was it and her love for a new hobby she had found was instead curdling into quiet, miserable grief.
"Thank you," he said before turning towards her. He already looked far better than yesterday, less gaunt and shaky on his feet. His injuries were gone as well, leaving only a somewhat tattered, stained shirt and worn, knee-length pants over hale and whole skin behind.
He tipped his head and the way the light of a lit candle reflected in his eyes reminded her of the way animal eyes would look when a lantern swept past them in the dark. "What do you want in return for your help?"
She paused after sitting up, then shrugged. "I don't want anything." Gran had been very firm about deals with magic creatures, that they brought ruin more often than not, her voice harsh and bitter as she had said it. As if there was more to her words than mere warnings.
Besides, the young woman had grown up on stories about daring knights, wise mages and courageous princesses and princes. She had always wanted to be like them, to do good with her own two hands whenever possible. Had secretly dreamed about one day saving someone as she had grown up.
It had been far more scary and harrowing than in her imagination, but she'd do it all over again in a heartbeat.
"You want nothing," the spirit repeated, sounding like he didn't believe her. "Everyone wants something, help is never freely given. Especially not from my kind and especially not when you saved my life. Do not take that kind of thing lightly."
"All I want is for you to be safe," she said. "Don't get hurt again, promise me that."
The forest spirit inhaled sharply, pupils blowing wide until only a small ring of green remained and she felt a warm shiver go through the air. Like something powerful had just exhaled a blessing.
He said nothing for a long moment, before he dipped his head, suddenly looking regal as the wolf ears melted away and antlers appeared that looked far more intact than last night. "Very well."
He joined her by the hearth, dropping down to one knee and offered his hand. "Let me see your wound."
She held out her hand and felt a tingle of magic, could taste soft, gentle meadow flowers and refreshing water as relief took away the lingering pain. Her palm was unmarred, not even a scar remaining.
"You have no idea what you just gave me, do you?" he asked quietly when she looked at him, his gaze so very captivating it looked like the entirety of the forest had gathered in his eyes.
She offered a small, crooked smile. "I've never been around magic," she said, all too aware that he was still holding her hand, skin warm like sunshine. "You can hide here until you've recovered."
He tipped his head to the side. "You would welcome me even now, knowing who is looking for me?"
"You're safe here," she answered. "He can't charm me and you need time to recover. Just make sure no one sees you."
"What do you desire for your help in return?" he asked. "And don't say nothing again."
She thought of the wrongness within her and wondered if magic could fix it. Then she remembered Gran's warnings about deals and ruin and bit back a sigh.
"I'll think about something," she said, though she didn't intend to. Once the spirit was strong enough, he would either fight or leave, but either way she doubted she would ever see him again.
He didn't look happy about that, but accepted her answer graciously enough. Getting to her feet, the young woman waved him with her to the kitchen corner. If he was eating her out of house and home he could help her cook.
When it became clear he was actually the better cook, since she hadn't been able to learn too much before her wrongness had kicked in, she happily left him to it and grabbed her money, sneaking out.
The entire town was walking around in a strange sort of haze, half of them still searching and the other half catering to the mage.
She saw people bring more food to the mayor's house, along with other things. Jewels and prized possessions, feathers the harpy had and griffin had lost and one or two held squeaking bats in their gloved hands, as though hoping they might be the escaped vampire.
No one looked twice at her when she bought as much food as she could at the market and she bit back bitter worry when she saw Gran and Granny Tanya bring blueberry cake to the mage with happy smiles.
Only her parents didn't seem to be out and about. Strange.
She brought the food back home and the forest spirit noticeably relaxed once she was back, thanking her quietly before falling quiet again. The young woman, however, could only stand the silence for so long before she began to ask questions.
Before long she knew that the forest spirit had gotten captured in his sleep, that his home was to the north and that he could sense the power of the nearby forest.
They both fell asleep in front of the hearth and by the second day, the young woman dragged her bedding out into the living room and made a proper place to rest for the two of them.
The forest spirit was in a better mood today and she realized that under all the tense grimness he was rather playful and enjoyed teasing and, most of all, making her laugh. She noticed as the days passed how he regained his strength, the gauntness disappearing faster than it would have for a regular person.
They kept busy in the small house in different ways. She watched him finish some of her craft projects and taught him to dance, he conjured sprigs of flowers for them to 'pretty up the place with' as he said and he let her brush out and braid his hair after long baths, the bath water never cooling until they were well and truly done.
Every night they curled up on the hearth together and it was then, as he looked at her, hair a healthy, shining red and gold and fox ears perked to listen better, that the truth spilled out.
How wrong inside she felt and he frowned at her in what she recognized as worry.
"May I?" he asked, holding out his hand and she put hers into his without a moment's hesitation. His face went soft and gentle in a way that ached somewhere around her tender heart as he held her hand with care.
Then he closed her eyes and she could taste meadow flowers and cold water and his frown deepened.
"I - you must talk to your parents," he said and as soon as the words were out, his head reared back a bit, ears pinning flat to his head as he blinked, looking startled and irritated. "Oh, how nasty."
She stared at him, wide-eyed and for the first time got the feeling that something was very, very wrong in a different way than she had thought.
"I'll go now," she whispered and he nodded, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze before she got to her feet.
Her parents looked worried and tense when they opened the door, relaxing a bit when they saw it was her, only for the tension to snap back into their frames. She realized immediately that they knew why she was here.
That there was a reason why she and they alone weren't slaves to the magic-charm of a mad mage. That they did know why she felt like a piece was missing.
"What's wrong with me?" she asked, sharp and hard in a way she had never spoken with them and they stepped aside to let her in.
They stood around the living room awkwardly until her father broke first, guilty and defensive and shoulders hunched, the silence around them heavy and thick and oppressive like summer heat without a cooling breeze.
"We didn't know," he said, almost pleading as he looked at his daughter. "When we met that...that man on our travels. We didn't know."
Something hot was wrapping around her heart and throat and a bad feeling unfolded in her gut, wriggling to get comfortable like a cat in a beam of sunlight. "Tell me the truth. Now. You owe me that much at least."
"We asked for a good life," her mother whispered, staring down at the ground, arms wrapped around herself and her head bent, shoulders tense. "We asked for nothing unreasonable, because being greedy only curses you. We asked for a good, warm, house, for enough money to buy what we desired until our deaths and to lead healthy, long and safe lives. We wanted the sort of fortune that would ensure we would have everything we desired until the day we died."
The heaviness in the air seemed to press down harder, like a thick blanket over sticky, sweaty skin, trapping heat and impossible to shake, no matter how desperately she wanted to get rid of it.
"What was the price?" the young woman asked, her tongue almost numb in her mouth. Though, she already knew. Could feel it in the marrow of her bones, could feel it in the stained glass shape of her soul, all disjointed and wrong and missing missing missing. Always missing something.
"You were but a babe," her father answered before she could ask again. "We didn't think...when he asked for a piece of you, something that wouldn't hurt you if he took it, we thought, well, if you grew up without it...you wouldn't know what you were missing."
Her heart shouldn't break, she thought, as pain and anger and grief greedily dug into her chest and belly. It shouldn't break when she didn't even feel all that surprised to hear what they were saying.
She thought of her life filled with things she couldn't finish, couldn't dedicate herself to no matter how deeply she loved, like her hands were too restless, desperately trying to find something to fill the void within her. All the friendships she had lost over the years, the disappointed people she had worked with and most of all, how miserable she had been.
She thought about feeling wrong and disjointed and like a stained glass window made by a clumsy apprentice and with the intent to make other people whisper and point and laugh instead of impressing them.
Weird, strange, not-fitting-in. Wrong.
Wrong, wrong, wrong, had sung through her veins for as long as she could remember and she had walked through life feeling like a part of her was gone, but unable to voice it. Unable to even name what was missing.
Thinking that, maybe, this was just her lot in life. That nothing could be done about it and she had tried to do her best with the hand she had been dealt by fate.
And all this time, her parents had just...traded that part of her away. For small comforts. For a future they could have made themselves with their own hands had they cared to try. For a life bartered and paid for by someone else, so they wouldn't have to shoulder the burden.
And then they had lied to her about it, had left her thinking that nothing could be done to make her feel better. That this was normal.
"Who?" she asked numbly and she blinked, realizing she was halfway to the door. When she looked at her parents, hot, angry hatred crawled up her throat like a wave of lava at seeing their wounded, self-pitying faces. "Who did you allow to hurt me?"
"Master Egam," her father whispered, his voice barely audible in the heavy, suffocating silence. "We can't let him see us or he might remember."
She was out the door before he could finish speaking, heart breaking and racing and she wasn't surprised at all, even though she thought she should be. So that was why his magic wasn't working on her – and her parents, if part of their deal was to remain healthy and unharmed at all times. Just what had Egam taken from her to make a deal that protected them no matter what?
She didn't remember the path home, but the moment the door fell closed behind her, she looked at the forest spirit and all the breath rushed back into her lungs. He was waiting with a plate of cookies he had baked that afternoon and his gaze was so gentle and understanding it made the wounded part of her tremble.
He opened his arms, a silent invitation and for a moment there was so much awful anguish in her, she didn't know what to do. Had no idea how to react if someone touched her, if it would drain the pain and anger or make it spill over, ugly and messy and raw. Like a wound that had had years and years and years to grow until it had spread and festered.
Then she moved and let him catch her and cradle her close as she broke down, crying as bitterly and hard as she had never cried before. He held her tightly as she shook apart, her head tucked under his chin and she cried and cried until she felt empty inside. Empty and wrong.
"They gave a piece of me to Egam," she whispered, voice thick and scratchy and he stilled. She tightened her grip on the shirt she had gotten him during one of her trips to the market, where food had started to grow scarce. "In exchange for a good, comfortable life."
He cupped the back of her head and kept holding her, offering no empty platitudes and no 'I'm sorry's, for which she was grateful. She didn't want sorrys. She was...she was too damn fucking furious for that, she realized, now that the pain had momentarily drained away.
"I want it back," she said, biting the words out like they were bones snapping between her teeth. "I want it back and I want this monster gone."
He hugged her tighter and she felt his smile press against her temple, sharp and dangerous and fanged and not the least bit afraid of her rage. Not the least bit judgmental the way others had reacted to her anger over the years.
"Let's shred him," he whispered against her hair, soft lips brushing forehead. "Let's get back what he stole from us."
*.*.*
It hadn't taken too long to prepare. The forest spirit had recovered fully and there wasn't anything in town that could help them against a mage, but in the end, they didn't need much anyway.
They didn't need fancy things or mage slayers. Not when the mage in question would give them the weapons they needed, born out of his own greed and hubris.
Born out of a deal he had made with her parents and Gran really was right, deals only ever brought ruin. Because she and the part Egam had taken from her were about to become his.
The forest spirit gave her hand a squeeze and they exchanged one more look as they got ready behind her house, his eyes fierce and so trusting it briefly stole her breath away.
"When this is over, travel with me," he said, out of nowhere. "I want to show you my home. The brooks and meadows and mountains and lake."
She smiled back, a warmth that had nothing to do with the burning rage spreading through her, smoothing down her edges and settling around her heart like a protective blanket.
"Gladly," she answered quietly, then her smile turned a bit crooked. "What, you aren't going to ask for anything in exchange, leaf boy?"
He laughed softly and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "You're too precious for deals," he said quietly and she could taste his magic, sweet and cool and it almost brought tears to her eyes, though she couldn't quite say why.
"Let's go," she said instead and he reached up to gather his hair, pulling it aside to allow her to put the pilfered chain from the wagon around his neck. They had scratched out all the symbols on the inside of the iron, destroying the enchantment that would block his magic.
With a bit of glue it would stay shut for now and he caught her hands, pressing a kiss to her knuckles until they stopped shaking. They both took a deep breath and stepped onto the street, a glamor settling over his skin, making him look gaunt and injured once more. He limped, casting her one last wink before people noticed them.
The townsfolk paid attention to her for the first time in nearly a month as she went to the mage's house. Word must have traveled ahead, for Master Egam was already awaiting them and the mayor's house was saturated with iron-rot. She could see a few hints here and there of the chaos that must've reigned before he had gotten things cleaned up to welcome them, sitting on a padded chair like it was a throne.
"Bring him to me, girl," he said, beckoning and his smile benevolent and his eyes glittering like cold glass shards. His hunger was deep enough to cut and she bit back a shiver at the disgust that crept beneath her skin the closer she came to him.
"My prized possession," Egam murmured, already ignoring her and his magic grew thicker in the air, almost making her gag. The forest spirit pretended to fight, snarling as he was dragged forward, looking like he was too weak to resist. "And you put him back in his proper attire too, good girl."
He absentmindedly patted her on the head and she made herself smile at him, empty and dazzled, like the other townsfolk, swallowing down bile. The spirit had told her that Egam had stolen a piece of his magic too, forcefully instead of willingly, but it was in his hands all the same.
It was time to get back what belonged to them.
She handed over the chain, his gaze on the forest spirit like he wanted to devour him whole. Like the monsters and villains in her stories growing up, greedy and cruel and insatiable.
Egam moved past her, already discarding her as unimportant. As under his control. As just another 'country bumpkin'. He was the powerful mage after all and, as he had said, he already had one of the most powerful beings under his control.
A powerless girl might as well be dirt under his boots.
That was the exact reason he didn't see her nick her hand on a small knife hidden in her pocket. Why he didn't see her smile at the forest spirit over his shoulder before reaching out.
He didn't look at her and therefore couldn't react in time when she stepped to his side and reached up, pressing her bloody hand over his heart at the same time that the forest spirit lunged forward.
The mage did react, aiming his magic at the bigger, perceived threat, like they had suspected. And just like they had hoped, his magic slid off of the forest spirit harmlessly, for when the young woman had saved his life and he had offered her compensation of the same magnitude, she had asked for him to be safe.
The forest spirit was unhindered, pressing bloody palms to the mage's chest, right over his heart, sharp, sharp teeth bared and he snarled, "I undo the deal."
"I undo the deal," she spoke simultaneously with him, the words the forest spirit had taught her, steady and patient as each one was nothing but pain in her throat. Because she wasn't supposed to say those words, but then again, parents weren't supposed to give away what didn't belong to them either, so she had a right to this.
A right to undo what had been done to her, as long as she could get through the pain that tried to keep her from speaking. Pain that was worse than any wrongness had ever been, any loneliness and pain and grief and self-loathing for not being like all the other people.
For never getting to keep doing the things she loved, forever searching for something she hadn't known she'd have to buy back with blood and pain.
It was the worst pain she had ever endured, but it wasn't stronger than the rage in her veins, the taste of iron-rot on her tongue and the sun-warm hand that took her free, unharmed one, grounding and strong. The look of startled anger on the mage's face swiftly morphing into fear was everything in this moment.
"I undo the deal made made without my voice, without my consent, without my agreement. I undo it as it was made, in pain and blood and betrayal," they spoke in perfect unison, their only chance to both get back what had been taken from them.
Their only chance to catch him so by surprise that he did feel betrayed, that he was as helpless as they had been, asleep and a babe respectively.
The moment the last word left her mouth, a sudden relief gripped her throat, releasing the burning agony that had torn through it and at the same time, she felt something warm and big spread through her chest.
The wrongness disappeared in an instant, the feeling of missing turning into wholeness so filling and great she almost stumbled back, her skin tingling and euphoria singing through her so brightly she had to sob. Because that wasn't just a missing piece, a sliver of soul that he had taken and that was now returned to her.
Magic, he had taken magic from her. It glittered like stars in the dark in her veins, spilled through her mind like bright sunlight on shimmering waves and wrapped around her with a desperation like it had longed to return to her as relentlessly as she had wanted it to return to her.
Egam was screaming as he stumbled back and they let him, watched him trip and spill to the ground as he writhed, clawing at his chest where blood smeared, hot and red and the forest spirit gripped her hand tighter.
His magic was heavy in the air, making her taste rivers and entire fields full of flowers and even from the corner of her eye she could see how much more vibrant he was now, the glamor dropped. Captivating and downright otherworldly, beautiful and mesmerizing.
"What have you done!" Egam shrieked but his words no longer tasted of iron-rot in the air and she blinked, realizing the power of his voice had been stolen from someone else. As she watched him seemingly shrink down, magic leaving him, her breath caught.
Oh. Her magic had been the first he had stolen. Her magic was what had bolstered all of his and now that it was gone, everything he was unraveled until it left behind a pitiful little man, with eyes so mean and cruel he should belong in a story, not in real life.
"I promised you I would be your end," the forest spirit said and his voice was filled with magic. The sort of magic that had previously been used by Egam to charm everyone. "I think your hunger and greed are better suited in a different shape and form. In something that grows, don't you?"
And Egam tried to scramble to his feet and run, but the magic of the forest spirit was so thick in the air it her own magic sing in return, bright and sparking and the fury was still a living, roiling wave of heat within her. She reached out without much thought, letting her magic wrap around the forest spirit's, who threw his head back and laughed.
He laughed as Egam screamed in a pitch no human throat should be capable of. He laughed as the screams cut off and branches broke out of his back, his skin turning to bark and the mage grew and grew and stretched and the young woman found herself pulled out the house as floorboards and walls, doors and furniture and remains of windows were devoured.
She watched as a tree grew and grew and grew until the trunk was as wide as the house had been and it reached high into the sky, the canopy so thick and wide it sheltered the entire town under its boughs.
And her magic was singing and singing and singing and she felt so hale and whole she felt like she was floating. The forest spirit turned towards her, grinning and took her injured hand, pressing a kiss to the cut, smearing blood over his lips as he healed it.
"We're free now," he whispered, eyes so very green and then she was laughing and crying and pulling him forward and he followed her, pressing kisses that tasted like fading copper and brightly like flowers and cold water to her lips.
They were free. Free and whole at last and she felt like she was truly breathing for the first time since she could remember. Deep breaths that seemed to fill her entire body, her magic twining with his as it surrounded them, forest and sky and her tears were wiped away with gentle, gentle hands.
"We are," she whispered, sinking her hands into his hair until she had threaded starlight through it. "Let me introduce you to Gran and Granny Tanya and then I want to see your home."
He laughed and picked her up and twirled her in a circle and she found herself laughing as well, flowers blooming to form a crown on her head.
Where previously a quiet sort of misery had loomed in her future, saturating all coming days, she now couldn't wait to see what the rest of her life looked like.
Bright, she thought as she held his face in her hands, their foreheads gently pressing together. Her future was bight and free and full of love and she was still laughing and crying, happy beyond words. And her magic, finally, finally returned to her, sang and shone and at long last, she felt nothing but right inside.
*.*.*
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#my writing#short story#forest spirit#magic#fairy tale style#a bit dark tho#a wee bit of body horror at the end#and a wee bit of violence#rather non graphic tho#this took forever to write#i have around 11 k discarded words on this little mess#but I loved how it turned out#so I very much hope you'll enjoy reading it too!#also if you wonder#shady how do you come up with names?#i encourage you to spell egam backwards#I'm funny like that (not)#but I admit#his name amused me every time I typed it#alright done with rambling in the tags for now I guess#hope you liked my story!#btw just in case you're new to my stuff#this is LONG#a long short story
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No matter the universe them getting together is a silly event. Hopefully emo them is safe from the timeline imploding though...
#my art#emonette#Toxinelle#MiraculousSpecial#MiraculousLadybug#miraculous ladybug#miraculous#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#shadybug#claw noir#griffe noire#mlb paris special#ml paris special#paris special#they're so silly in the emo verse i love that for them. shady had a sword and claw got himself cataclismed on PURPOSE#they're just a little unhinged in a way thats so funny.#i genuinly think that they'd write my immortal in their universe#not even in french. Mari in the emoverse just knows english and this is how she practices lol.#they're so cringe fail and im obsessed with the fact that these are genuinly better designs than the normieverse#like whats going on in the design studio of miraculous i yearn to know
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in light of recent events
#vivs writing unironically reminds me of 'moralism'/centerism so bad.#the status quo must always be protected#for clarity--for peace of mind#classism must be upheld. what will make it better is interclass relationships! like the smoker n sunday friend. dont be alarmed by the power#imbalance and the shady optics. it's cute and sexy. everythibg must remain the same so we can have our cutes aesthetic power imbalance#romance#helluva boss will be exactly as it is now. stolas is in his palace. everything is right in hell.#disco elysium#i feel bad putting this in the tag lmao#hazbin hotel /hb is a half eaten chicken nugget and de is duck confit with concord grapes on the side#what i would give for stolas being portrayed like charlie boy..#hazbin critical#hazbin leaks#helluva critical#helluva boss critical
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WAIT THIS IS ACTUALLY SO FUNNY. WHY WOULD THEY DO PARTNER LIKE THIS.
#Partner: oh so they’re famous? :]#Chatot: No. They’re criminals. Horrible shady thugs.#DUSKNOIR FLOATING INTO THE GUILD 7 CHAPTERS LATER; FITTING INTO THOSE EXACT TWO CATEGORIES:#NAH BRO SOMEONE ON THE TEAM WRITING THIS GAME JUST HATED PARTNER
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