#sparks of hope au

[si--ko]

sparkhunters swap au! designs may change but yahoo

[cosmo-production]

idea for Mario + rabbids au

ya know the Rayman crossover happening soon, and ya the Rayman fanbase not so secret hatred of the rabbids well I made a au based off it. The rabbids return to Rayman's world and I mean ALL of them and the glade of dream go Salem witch trial on them in a rabbid destroying rampage, the au revolves around rabbid Mario and the rest trying keep the other rabbids safe, surviving or finding a way back to mushroom kingdom whichever comes 1st? This au has angst overload with the stress of the situation making everyone say somethings they don't mean that kind of stuff. Each rabbid have different ways of dealing with the situation

Rabbid Mario and edge become protectors at night, watching over everyone like batman stopping any would "exterminations"

Rabbid Rosalina stay with the rabbids at camp, locked up in her tent trying to process all of this.

Phantom became a traitor just so he could be a star again

rabbid Luigi went to travel the Glade of dreams looking to learn to make portal to the mushroom kingdom, he could already do a weaken spell a portal shouldn't be that hard he thought to himself

the wardens got more chill jobs.

rabbid peach became a medic because rabbids still get into trouble as often as they did before

[theintroverse]

Okay, totally random thought.

The Sparks of Despair AU…

But Beep-0 gets corrupted by Darkmess.

Probably some time after Jeanie is freed, the gang visits the Space Opera Network studio, and frees Phantom from his Darkmess corruption (and rescues Midnite too.) Phantom is genuinely remorseful for what happened, but Beep-0 refuses to hear him out. (Relatively speaking, since Phantom returned to his voiceless state upon being freed.) It only gets worse when everyone else decides that Midnite can tag along to help restore hope to the galaxy, while Beep-0 is, at best, extremely hesitant to acknowledge her.

Things reach a tipping point when Midnite reveals that Edge was a former Spark Hunter too. Beep-0 blows his circuits, and due to his rage, doesn’t notice the nearby Darkmess reaching out a tentacle towards him…

And now, they have to fight the very one who helped them start their journey way back in Kingdom Battle.

[pixies-and-poets]

Ok here you all go, some more background information I thought up for the High Seas AU!!!

-Instead of being planets, Palette Prime, Terra Flora etc. are all isolated continents or large islands in one big world dominated by ocean. They have established trade with each other but it takes a fairly long time to traverse between them by sea, so travel for leisure is minimal. Barrendale Mesa is still in its bountiful untouched form; in fact, it hasn't even been discovered by sapient life yet and thus has no name.

-The Mushroom Kingdom exists on a larger continent along with the Darklands, Beanbean Kingdom, Flower Kingdom, Sprixie Kingdom and some others. It's pretty distant from what is known as the "Rabbid Archipelago" where Rabbids are the dominant species, and the two civilizations have only recently discovered each other. Donkey Kong Island is between the two.

-Wardenry has not been established as an institution in the Rabbid Archipelago.

-Sweetlopek felt the calling to be a sailor (specifically a ship's carpenter) instead of a lumberjack, and thus left his home island when he came of age.

-Woodrow's childhood was much the same as we know it. However, he left Palette Prime as a young man and took to sea. This was largely for two reasons: 1) his best friend had already departed, leaving him far less incentive to stay, and 2) as stated above, the position of warden did not exist, so he didn't have that to strive for. Once he realized his poetry would never be appreciated by the locals, and without his friend to back him up, he decided to leave, despite his strong love of his home island.

-Woodrow's main reason for going to sea was the hope of running into his best friend again. Being an honest and honorable sort, be started out serving on merchant ships. However, eventually his curse would always be discovered, and he was chased off of multiple crews, even being marooned once. Turns out the discipline on merchant ships is strict, and the captains were none too keen on finding out one of their own was a disaster poet who threatened the merchandise. It was not a pleasant era of his life.

-It was then that he turned to piracy, ironically finding buccaneer types more forgiving. By a stroke of good luck (perhaps after writing a limerick?) Woodrow was eventually able to find Sweets serving on a rival crew, and his old friend convinced his current captain to give Woodrow a chance (keeping his affliction a secret still, of course).

-Neither Woodrow nor Sweetlopek knew the Dryad of Palette Prime beyond legend. Since Sweets left when he was fairly young, and Woodrow never became warden, the mysterious spirit never made herself known to them. Dryad, however, has taken to the sea on her own account. She is on a journey to meet with nature spirits and observe the biomes of other locations, both land and sea. But she also wants to get to know "normal Rabbids" better and thus has disguised herself as one, going by the name Darya.

-In the regular canon, Dryad would find interplanetary travel difficult. As a nature spirit, she struggles with the sterility of a spaceship and the vacuum of space surrounding her, in addition to being intimately tied to her planet. The mechanics of this AU would make travel easier and more pleasant for her, so travel she does. At least temporarily. (The Spellbound Woods will be ok without her for a little while.)

-Orion is the captain of a regular ship, possibly even the ship Woodrow/Sweetlopek/Darya are on, but I haven't decided.

-Augie has the potential to be a lot more important in this AU; I'm thinking he's generally seen as the god of the whole sea and Perfectus is the god of the land.

-Bea is possibly another siren with this whole underseas drama going on with Phantom??

-Momma is also a captain, of a ship she designed herself, known for its astonishing technological advancement (she and her vessel/crew are very steampunky).

-I wanted to keep Phantom feeling mysterious and primal, so I haven't thought much about how he came to be a siren-monster or if he was just born that way. Someone else can feel free to run with it.

[potatokidyum]

Inspired by @the-woomyverse Beep-O getting corrupted post BEHOLD

Proof that I have no self control. It’s Beep-O and Corrupt Beep-O :D

[pastelprince18]

I don’t know I’m hearing crazy (the song) and I quickly thought of darkmess Rabbid Mario…

The thought of him remembering when he lost touch with himself and forgetting who his friends are.

when they battle the first time (I feel they battle 3 times in the au) the more he gets violence. The second battle it actually is a brutal brawl, that being distracted when he tangos with edge, when fighting him rabbid Luigi begs him to wake up from this and fight the darkmess, he thinks it works but rabbid Mario actually gets the best hand and injures the poor rabbid, the group have to get him fast or he’d be…well ya know…shambles

They did defeat him but they have to keep a eye on rabbid Luigi, poor guy is actually scared to be around him cause if it and is just full on lost hope, it’s like no matter what something does happen rabbid Luigi thinks it’s worthless, it’s tragic to see a team mate loses hope and the gang are getting to their main mission which is beat cursa and save Rosalina

Course when this happen rabbid Mario begins to remember the smallest things of who he is, and who they were and it breaks his heart a bit, of course…darkmess is a bit stronger than he is…unfortunately

[doodlesbutawesome]

This is something I’ve wanted to say for awhile about my Redesign AU but Rabbid Luigi and Woodrow have a nice friendly dynamic bc they’ve both had similar accidents happen to them which have made them taller and they’re like “Hey! You’re just like me fr!” And Woodrow gives him some advice and tells him being tall isn’t too bad 😭

[midnite-enjoyer]

hey so that Swap Edge concept huh

[quackkryak]

What if Ramon was in Phathom Show

[theintroverse]

Cool! Reminds me of the design for Darkmess Phantom that Bramble made for the Sparks of Despair AU.

Speaking of which, once the DLC comes out, I am going to be brainrotting over the Sparks of Despair AU again.

Brace yourself, folks.

@randomrabbidramblings @hostess-of-horror @pastelprince18 I know it's very similar to Sparks of Despair but what if the Darkmess possessed him King Dedede style

Was about to color in his ears and mouth but the background color made him look really cold and weak and that's exactly what I was going for

[awyeahitssam]

Time travel AU; Tomarry

Harry was seven the first time he appeared.

Tom arrived to him small and trembling, with bare blue fingers and toes. His teeth chattered noisily while hands worked insistently up and down his arms to generate some illusion of heat. It was a rather odd sight, considering it was thirty seven degrees outside and Harry was sweating a bit, himself. Not to mention the boy had just materialized in his supposedly secure hiding spot, without so much as a sound of warning or shimmer about the air. 

Or, you know, walking or running, because that’s how any other child got around.

Harry shook away the thought, pushing himself off the tree stump and letting shredded leaves fall from his grasp. 

The child was looking up, now, glancing around like a frightened rabbit, silver-grey eyes wide and wild. He couldn’t have been more than four years old, which wasn’t that much younger than Harry, but he wasn’t used to being around toddlers. In fact he had never been around anyone smaller than him for more than a few minutes - their parents always rushed them away, thanks to his reputation as the Dursleys' troubled nephew.  

Harry wouldn't let the boy freeze because his parents would be mad they'd spoken. Not that they would be angry at the boy, mind: it was Harry that always got into trouble for such things. He would be fine.

(And no, Harry wasn’t at all resentful. Really.)

Dilemma solved, Harry stepped forward resolutely and wrapped his arms around the trembling child. The boy stood stiff and unresponsive, tremors still wracking his form. Harry was a whole head taller than him; from this close he could see what appeared to be snow melting atop night-dark curls.

Harry blinked in surprise. He had thought the boy had been locked in a freezer, with how cold he was, but snow in July? 

Where was it cold this time of year? 

Sweden? 

Antarctica? 

Iceland? 

Did the boy even speak English? 

Harry knew that if you wished hard enough you could escape a place: after all, he had ended up across the schoolyard four days ago, on the school roof of all places! But maybe this boy had gone further? 

“All right?" Harry asked, going to pull away, but the boy suddenly began clinging to him, head pressing forward into his chest.

What did parents call their kids to comfort them? Aunt Petunia always said “Duddums,” or “Dudders,” but those were just nicknames. Maybe… 

“Uh, it’s okay, d-darling?”

The boy stilled again, sniffling once and looking up with narrowed eyes, as if he thought Harry was making fun of him. Maybe only adults called people that? Oh God, Harry had no idea what he was doing. This was his first hug, after all… 

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he tried again. “We’ll get you home, so you’ll be all right. With your, uh, parents and stuff. Don’t cry, please.”

Well, that was more begging than reassuring, probably, but Harry had no clue what he was doing here. He’d never had to comfort anyone a day in his life!

“I wasn’t crying!” The boy denied, shoving himself away from Harry fiercely even though he was still quivering and unnaturally pale. “And I don’t have any parents.”

“Oh. Okay,” Harry raised his hands defensively, ready to spring back if the boy lashed out again. When people got angry with him it rarely went well. “Um, I don’t either. Have parents, that is. And I didn’t mean to make you upset.” 

Harry wasn’t going to apologize for it. He had to do enough of that at the Dursley’s, and he had only been trying to help, besides. Still, he knew how frustrating it was when parents got brought up. The reminder that he was an orphan, trapped with the Dursley’s for a very long time to come, was far from comforting. 

“Just another orphan, then,” the boy said dismissively. Harry didn’t bother being offended, as it was the truth, though that tone was a bit... 

“I suppose,” Harry said. “You’re still cold, aren’t you? Let’s move out of the shade.” 

The boy squinted at him suspiciously, but nonetheless followed when Harry led the way to a nearby rock and gently pressed him to sit on it. He kneeled on the dead, brown grass and eyed blue fingers and bare toes worriedly.

“That’s not good,” he whispered. Harry reached out to the other boy slowly, as though he were a wild animal, and the child jerked away.

“What are you doing?”

“They’re blue,” Harry frowned. “Just - let me -” 

Harry took the boy's hands in his own and brought them to his mouth, breathing hot air onto them. The boy made a mildly disgusted sound and made to move back, but Harry held tight, rubbing to create heat through friction. 

He felt gross and sweaty, and frankly the cool of the boy’s hands was a relief on such a day, but mostly he was worried. He knew, vaguely, of hypothermia, and he didn't want the boy’s fingers to fall off.  

The boy glared at Harry, but didn't try to pull away again, though he watched his every movement rather suspiciously. That wasn't anything new to Harry, of course. Everybody found him suspicious. 

“Where am I?” The child demanded, after a long period of silence in which they were essentially holding hands. 

“We’re at a park in Little Whinging, Surrey.” 

“Surrey? I was just in London…”

Harry frowned back. “Are you sure? It's not snowing in London.”

“It was five minutes ago,” the boy said firmly, crossing his arms. 

“In July?” Harry murmured, incredulous. 

“I'm not lying,” the boy said coolly, though the effect of his glare was somewhat ruined by the shivers still wracking his body. “And it's February, besides.”

“I didn't say you were lying,” Harry huffed. “Just that you’re wrong. It's July 30th.”

The boy frowned, glancing from the sun high in the sky to the brown grass. He seemed at a loss, eyes flitting around as if trying to find something to refute Harry’s claim.

Harry watched him, considering. 

“My name is Harry,” he said. “What’s yours?”

The boy blinked at him. “Tom,” he said. “Tom Riddle.”

...

Harry was in the astronomy tower, legs dangling over the edge, eyes looking towards the ground. His companion arrived as suddenly as always, the only announcement of his presence the prickling at Harry’s neck.

“...Harry?” 

He turned with a tired smile, faltering only slightly when he noted what Tom was wearing. A slightly oversized version of the Hogwarts uniform hung over his small frame, a silver and green tie smoothed on his neck. 

“What’s wrong, love?” Harry asked, falling to his knees beside the bright-eyed boy. Tom wasn’t crying, but his eyes were burning with something like anger and loneliness and despair. It took Harry a moment, but when he caught sight of the bruise marring Tom’s face he felt his breath catch in his chest.

“You—who—how dare—!” Harry couldn’t seem to bring himself to coherence, so instead he shut his mouth and carefully tilted Tom’s chin to get a better look at the mark. It was large, spanning from his right cheekbone to eyebrow: a mottled, puce discoloration that never should have touched on Tom’s strong features. 

Tom allowed Harry to maneuver him without complaint, eyes wide and hungry as they took him in.

“Even at Hogwarts,” the younger boy murmured, smaller hand reaching out, brushing against Harry’s cheek. 

Harry couldn’t help the soft look that overcame him, despite the anger boiling, wrathful, in his gut at the sight of Tom’s injury. “I’m glad,” he said softly. “I’d rather not go ten months without seeing you, Tom.” 

Though truly it hadn’t been so long for Harry. After all, hadn’t he seen Lord Voldemort rise only a few months ago?

But no. This was Tom, his first friend, the first person he’d thought to protect, not a single trace of serpent in his visage.

This was Tom, with one of his eyes half swollen shut.

Harry didn’t know any healing charms, but he had taken to carrying around the salve Hermione made for his hand. He unscrewed the lid and gathered more than was probably necessary, the goop thick on his fingers. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” 

Tom tilted his head, not wary but measuring, and Harry held his gaze until the boy’s shoulders loosened and he nodded.

Once upon a time, Lord Voldemort had been capable of trust. Theoretically it was a hard thing to grasp, but in practice it just made something in Harry’s chest melt.

Harry massaged the salve in gently, careful not to get too close to Tom’s eye. He was nearly done by the time Tom gasped, jerking away.

It must have started tingling.

“That’s…” 

“Strange?” Harry smiled at him. “Yeah. Hold still, you’ll need a bit more to help with the swelling.” 

“Why do you have this?” Tom asked, even as he obediently shut his eyes and swayed forward. “Have you been getting into fights, Harry?” 

How strange, the way Tom said his name now, compared to the way he would one day, in a dark, dreary graveyard.

Harry laughed off the comparison, laughed so he didn’t retreat back to misery, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Tom’s forehead. To the place that he would one day mark Harry.

“Always,” he smirked, pulling back to catch sight of Tom’s wide-eyed look. He screwed the lid back on the salve, wiping his fingers on his robe and slipping it back into his pocket. “Now, are you just going to sit there gaping all night, or would you like to learn how to defend yourself with magic?” 

Tom opened his mouth, probably in protest against that gaping remark, but closed it before saying anything and nodding his assent.

Harry drew his wand, a wand Tom had only seen a handful of times, and he couldn’t help the way his muscles tensed. Harry didn’t mention it.

“Protego,” he enunciated, making the motion with his wand a bit slower than he might otherwise.

“That’s a fifth year spell,” Tom pointed out.

“One that you’ll master,” Harry agreed cheerily. “Unless you want to be tickled to death.” 

It would have been more logical to use some sort of pain as motivation - such as a stinging hex - but Harry, Tom knew, did not want to hurt him. Still, he could deal with pain. Given his age, Harry was expected to be stronger than him, to be able to harm him. And to Tom, it would be far more humiliating to be reduced to helpless giggles.

Harry knew him too well, to play on his pride like this.

Tom found he didn’t mind

It took time, but Tom did manage to conjure the shield charm. 

Only when Harry flicked his wand the spell broke through, and Tom fell to the ground in peels of laughter. Harry held the enchantment for a long moment, watching grey eyes come alive with mirth, small body wriggling, before he waved his wand in a silent counter.

“Don’t rely on your shield alone,” Harry instructed. “You may be strong, but you’re still a first year, which means somebody else is stronger.” 

As if he needed the reminder, Tom mused bitterly, hand jerking a bit as he fought the urge to prod at his tingling bruise. Harry didn’t mention his short, derisive laugh. 

“What did you do when somebody tried to hit you at the orphanage? Dodged. It doesn’t matter that you have a wand, and spells; those aren’t the only tools available to you. You have a body - use it!”

In a way Tom appreciated the way Harry never sugarcoated anything. On the other hand, mere mention of the orphanage infuriated him. If not for the fact that Harry had been bullied himself, Tom might have held a grudge. As it was he knew Harry understood him, and what he went through. Knew that he was only mentioning that rotten place to draw a comparison and not degrade him. 

He didn’t get impatient when Tom’s second attempt failed, or his third and fourth, nor did he relent in his assault. He was strangely inspirational, Tom thought. He was encouraging, but had high expectations, and he seemed used to teaching. His patience went far further than Tom’s own extended, and he had no trouble explaining things a different way when his words didn’t click for Tom. 

But then, Tom almost instinctively knew what Harry meant. They were connected, in some odd, impossible way. 

Tom’s cheeks had burned in embarrassment when he discovered that there was no such thing as soulmates, even in the magical world. He had been so sure.

…

“You’ve gone pale.”

Tom looked down to his fading fingers with a scowl. 

“I want to spend more than a measly two hours with you,” he said, gripping the front of Harry’s robes as though it would prevent their time from coming to an end. 

“I know, darling,” Harry murmured, running a hand through his night-dark curls. “Just remember that I'm very proud of you, all right? I care for you, and that accounts for the decades we have to spend apart.”

“Harry, have I found you yet?” Tom whispers. The question hangs in the darkness, but before Harry can formulate a response Tom vanishes from his arms. 

…

“Hello darling,” Harry smiles, rather taken with the blush that lights Tom’s nose and the tips of his ears. “When are we?”

“31st of December, 1940.”

“Happy birthday, then. How does it feel to be fourteen?”

“No different than thirteen, I’d imagine,” Tom replies. 

“No?” Harry’s eyes glint wickedly. “Let’s see if we can’t brighten your day. Have you ever been ice skating, Tom?”

Tom blinked at him, eyebrows pulling together. “No,” he responds. “Have you?”

“Oh, absolutely not.” Something in Tom thrills at the reckless grin Harry levels him with. “We can try together, yeah? The Black Lake should be frozen over, and I know a few spells if not. The grounds should be abandoned at this time, especially considering it’s break.”

Tom stares incredulously for a moment longer, before shaking his head. “It’s past curfew, Harry. Even if it’s a holiday, I can’t be caught outside and still be chosen as a prefect next year.”

“Let’s not get caught, then,” Harry says softly, eyes sparking. 

Tom takes him in for a moment, and lets out a long sigh - mostly for show, mind you. Being cooped up in the Common Room, staring out at the Black Lake was hardly what Tom wished to be doing, regardless of the days. “Only you, Harry Potter, could talk me into doing such a thing. You’d better be practised with cushioning charms.”

A warm hand comes to grip Tom’s, pulling him towards the door. “We won’t need them,” Harry says, sounding rather assured. “You’re ridiculously graceful, so I expect you to catch me if I start to fall.” 

Harry, it turns out, is far better at keeping his balance on the slick surface. But the older boy takes both of his hands, slowly skidding backwards, balancing him so he won’t fall. And Tom is sure that when he does, he takes Harry with him.

…

Tom is standing on the balcony. Harry looks him over, absently checking for injuries. 

“You look posh,” he says, surprised. The last time he had seen Tom, he was still in second hand robes, though judging by his appearance it had been nearly a year - or an abrupt growth spurt. 

“Harry,” Tom breathes out, and all of the irritation in his posture and face smooth out as he turns and catches sight of him. Something like excitement brightens the air around him, and he reaches out, catching Harry’s sleeve and drawing him close. “You’re really here.”

“I am,” Harry smiles. “Have I kept you waiting?”

“Rather,” Tom sniffs. “It’s been nearly a year. You’ve chosen a rather poor venu, though; the Malfoy’s annual Yule Ball.”

“Oh,” Harry frowned. “I suppose you’ll need to get inside and schmooze with the purebloods.” 

“That is the point in me attending,” Tom agreed lightly. “But the ball is already halfway over, and I’ve met plenty of important people already. You could join me for a dance…” 

“Inside?” Harry asked, surprised. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tom… if anybody but you sees me, I’m afraid of what’ll happen.”

“The music’s loud enough,” Tom offers. There’s something almost hesitant in his eyes, Harry notes. A very rare thing, for Tom is most always sure of himself. “We can dance here.” 

Harry smiles, drawing Tom’s hand into his own. “All right, but don’t be mad if I step on your toes. You’ve asked for it.”

Tom’s eyes glint. A smirk curls his lips. “Oh my,” he says, stepping close as one hand finds Harry’s waist and the other intertwines their fingers. “Have we found something I’m better at?” 

Harry snorted. “You’re better at loads,” he said, stumbling a step back when Tom begins their dance. “I’ve got nearly three years on you at the moment, and I’m positive your spell knowledge well exceeds mine.”

Tom quirks a brow. “Perhaps if you studied more?”

Harry smiled. “I started studying seriously in my Fourth year. You, however, have been at it from your First.”

“Shall we duel?”

“I’d rather we never cross wands,” Harry says lightly, but his eyes have gone dark. He grips Tom a bit tighter, posture straightening. Tom’s nearly a head shorter, like this. “This is hard to do backwards.”

“Then lead.”

Tom’s words had been half-teasing, but when Harry takes control of the dance things smooth out rather quickly. He’s clearly at least practiced in this part, and twirls Tom around the balcony without much trouble.

“There you are,” Tom says into his neck, “No more stepping on me.” 

Harry huffs a laugh, one hand rising from Tom’s waist to brush through his hair. The motion is soothing, half-remembered from the last time Tom had a fever. He leans deeper into Harry. He would join them together if he could; make them intrinsic, never able to be torn apart, not even by time. 

“I miss you,” Tom admits, like it’s a dark secret. “When you’re gone, I miss you, Harry. I’ve never missed anybody else.” 

Harry’s throat tightens. His hand continues its careful strokes, and they’ve stilled in their dancing. They sway in place.

“I wish we could be like this forever,” Harry says in turn, secret traded for secret. 

Tom makes a noise in his throat, something almost needy, and clings harder, nails digging into Harry’s robe. “Don’t leave,” he demands. “Stop leaving me.” 

Harry sighs. “I can’t,” he says. “You know I can’t, Tom.”

Tom pulls back, meeting his eyes. His face is flushed from the cold, eyes gleaming with a fierce longing. Something in Harry aches in answer.

“Let’s sit,” Harry says softly. “The sky is beautiful here.”

Tom nods, but hardly lets them pull apart. They sit, limbs tangling, but instead of staring at the stars Tom stares at Harry. Harry pretends not to notice.

An hour later, only the lingering warmth of Tom’s palm proves he was ever there at all.

…

The next time Tom appears it’s in Harry’s time. The situation is less than ideal; it’s a Hogsmeade weekend, and there's an attack.

But Tom does not know the context. All he knows when he appears is that Harry is flushed, breathing hard, back pressed against a building. And Tom does not freeze like Harry sometimes does at the abrupt displacement, but strides towards Harry with a familiar determination.

It’s the look Lord Voldemort gets when he’s decided to kill Harry.

But instead, Tom presses him tighter against the building. Searches his face. And then he pushes their mouths together, lips moving insistently against Harry’s own, almost desperate to provoke a reaction. 

Apparently deciding to kiss and kill Harry inspires the same look.

There’s a moment when Harry wants, but then he pulls away, the rejection gentled by the way he cradles Tom’s cheek. 

“Tom, I -”

Harry's eyes flick up from Tom’s, catching a movement,  and his hands drop as though burned. He’s quick to grab Tom by the hips and switch their positions, putting his body between Tom and Voldemort as he took in the tall, serpentine Lord. 

Voldemort’s smile was a cruel, mirthless thing. “Playing house with one of my horcruxes, Harry? How… unexpected.”

Harry swallowed. So Voldemort didn’t know, then -  he didn’t remember, though Harry had figured as much. 

“Tom, stay behind me and avoid his eyes.” 

“Harry, who—”

“Please, Tom!”

Tom stepped back, but he didn’t move quickly enough to avoid a bolt of purple light.

‘Bugger,’ Harry thought, body jerking in front of Tom instinctively, taking the hit. 

The spell has no evident effect beyond freezing him in place, and a strongly thought Finite Incantatum saw him free. Still, Harry did not shift; he would use any advantage he could get, and Voldemort thinking him helpless was certainly an advantage.

“What shall I do with you now, Harry?” Voldemort hissed, a demented smile pulling his lips up. 

“Avada Ked—“

“Expelliarmus!” Harry cried. Tom’s wand flew from his hand, smacking Harry’s palm. Well, so much for that plan. “Expelliarmus!”

“Crucio.”

The spells slammed together and the magic splintered, the wand's magic dying as it recognized it was being turned against itself. 

Voldemort’s eyes burned. “How do you have that wand?”

Harry watched him carefully, backing up until his hip pressed against Tom. He pressed the yew wand into warm hands, not daring to take his eyes off Voldemort to see his expression. 

Tom inhaled sharply, and he was too clever to not connect the dots. When he spoke his voice was torn between horror and fury. “There’s no way.”

“You need to go,” Harry hissed back. “Now.” 

“We haven’t exactly figured out how to control it—”

“Tom,” Harry snapped. The other teen quieted, and Harry heard fabric shift. “Repeat after me: lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”

“Harry—”

“Do you want to die?” 

There was a long pause. A hand pressed over Harry’s spine, almost too hard to be a comfort. 

“Lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”

The air shifted, and the warm pressure of spindly fingers against Harry’s back melted away. 

Harry and Voldemort stared each other down from across a field.

“It seems,” Voldemort hissed, “we have much to discuss, Harry.”

[theintroverse]

Pride Before the Fall

"What's with the dark castle aesthetic?" Rabbid Peach murmured.

It was an apt description of the place, for certain. It was dark and imposing, both inside and out. Murals of burning wastelands adorned the walls. Torches dimly lit the passageways.

It had appeared near Terra Flora, where the heroes- or what remained of them, at least- had been resting. And no sooner had they noticed it had the doors opened, and Darkmess tendrils shot out and dragged Mario and Peach inside.

"I dunno." Luigi responded. "But I have a hunch."

He shot a suspicious glance at Bowser. For some reason, the remaining heroes couldn't enter the castle unless Bowser was in their party.

"I know as much as you do, which is to say absolutely nothing." Bowser glared back.

"We don't need any infighting." Rabbid Peach reminded them as she opened a large double door...

And let out a scream as Darkmess tendrils shot out and dragged the party in.

~~~~~

The party found themselves in a large throne room. The painting behind the throne depicted a raging fire. And although the throne itself was empty, the area around it was not.

In a cage that hung from the ceiling was Peach.

And laying in front of the throne, badly beaten... was Mario.

"...Okay, Bowser, what did you do?" Rabbid Peach looked over at Bowser.

"I didn't do anything!" Bowser growled. "Whoever did this is gonna get a knuckle sandwich! Only I am allowed to do this, and I'm not gonna do it anytime soon!"

"But I did it for you."

The voice came from behind them. It sounded childish, yet it was distorted with Darkmess. The heroes turned around...

and suddenly, everything made sense.

Why the castle had looked so imposing. The blatant hatred for Mario. The paintings around the castle. Why the voice had sounded so young.

Looming behind them, Darkmess tendrils forming extra limbs and a kingly crown atop his head...

was Bowser Junior.

"Long time no see, Papa."

~~~~~

Luigi scrambled backwards. Rabbid Peach fumbled for her weapon. But Bowser just stood there, in shock.

"I did all this for you, Papa. Pretty, isn't it?"

Darkmess Junior gestured to the walls around him.

"I did all of it myself. I made the paintings, selected the minions, built the cage, beat up Mario..."

He counted it all off on his fingers. Bowser managed to choke out a single word.

"...why?"

Was... was he crying?

"I feel like that should be obvious." Darkmess Junior grinned.

"I wanted to-"

*Shing!*

An arrow of light knocked Darkmess Junior to the floor. Rabbid Peach looked over.

Luigi already had another arrow nocked into his bow, ready to fire.

The Darkmess around Junior began to dissipate, and the ground beneath the heroes began to rumble. The castle was about to collapse.

~~~~~

They just barely made it out before the castle crumbled into rubble.

Rabbid Peach set down Mario, as Luigi did with Peach. Beep-O flew over almost immediately.

"Oh my- this is the worst condition I've ever seen someone in, and that's saying something! We must make sure... Bowser, what is that you're holding?"

Rabbid Peach glanced over at Bowser...

who was cradling a barely conscious Junior in his arms.

"...just wanted..." Junior murmured.

"Junior!" Bowser whispered. "You're gonna be okay, just hold on-"

"...I just wanted... to make you proud..."

Everyone was silent.

"...I'm sorry..."

With that, Junior fell unconscious, and Bowser wept.

[danikoshi-doodles]

Touched grass with @seyflare and swapped sketchbooks!

Slowly leading me back into the endless abyss that is the UTMV community (affectionate)

[potatokidyum]

Haha funni British boi (Design by Pastelprince18)

[m3tr0n0m333]

»A SPARK OF HOPE«

A fankid AU: Introduction

Circa 200 years into the future…

Past the death of the renowned, world famous hero: Sonic the Hedgehog, his immortal rival resides in a secluded location not many know about, or dare to stumble upon. He’s made himself a peaceful abode, isolated from the rest of the world— prying eyes or hands seeking his power or presence.

Shadow merely wishes to live without the stress of catastrophe weighing on his shoulders. And with the death of the biggest villain of the era- Doctor Robotnik, he succeeds for the most part- until a mysterious illness overcomes him, and he’s forced to reach out for help.

Upon wandering to the familiar-yet-changed Emerald Town, Shadow spots a recognizable logo on a building.

With curiosity and intrigue, the ebony hedgehog makes his next exploration the inside of this tall establishment.

[REFS AND MORE UNDER CUT]

No, it will not stay this well formatted most of the time. Guess I just felt like putting effort into it.

This au focuses around Tails, Shadow, and my fankid, Sparks! (No ships between these three, although they do end up as a family of sorts.) (+ Silver, who exists around this time, gets to be the cool cousin of sorts)

Shadow, as described, had isolated himself for quite a few years. And got an illness. But it’s far from mysterious.

His inhibitor rings have rusted and aren’t as effective as they were, well, 200 years ago, causing his chaos energy to run irregularly and make him fatigued/sick. Of course, it was a gradual process, so it was a little difficult to have spotted it right away. And when you’re sick, the obvious becomes… less obvious?

During this lengthy intermission between supposed canon and au, (I may go off canon quite a bit. I’m not professionally well versed in all the Sonic lore…) Miles Prower (formedly gone as “Tails” for his iconic two tailed ‘mutation’) had grown rather successful. A well-off entrepreneur of his own brand. He lives comfortably, although he does lack the bonds he once had.

As a kitsune, Miles’ life expectancy is lengthened, and gaining another tail every 100 years. He had existed much past his more mortal friends and allies, but pushed forwards to a brighter future, sort of. In this time, he has developed more of his kitsune oriented abilities, taking a favor to illusions.

Shadow wanders upon the main building, the HQ erected at Emerald Town, where his house once was. As Shadow wanders, Miles is aware of the old friend bumbling through the building and decides to play a little prank with some illusions and the high tech security measures he has installed in the building. (Nothing harmful, promise)

Once Shadow reaches the top, Miles reveals himself with a bold act of bravado. As of which they have some reunion and reaccqeuaintence time. Shadow explains his problem to Miles, Miles points out the problem and offers to make Shadow new inhibitor rings (and fix his air shoes in the process). Afterwards, he offers a residence for Shadow with him, but the hedgehog refuses, intending to return to his reclusive life.

On his path of return, he comes across a kid, sitting alone in the rain.

He resembles someone.

Spiky blue quills colored like the wind and the sky, peachy fur on his chest and muzzle. Pointed ears, although a bit droopier.

He sat with his legs pressed against his chest, on the edge of the sidewalk. Alone, yet he wears an expression closer to irritation rather than fear or melancholy.

After some questioning, he discovers that the kid ran from an orphanage, one he describes as nasty and disrespectful to him, like gum sticking his shoe to the floor. He describes that he had ran, to find some freedom. He’s a fast runner, you know? Maybe if he can get faster and faster, he may actually break the barrier keeping him chained to the orphanage.

When the sky darkens, illuminating the moon and the stars, Shadow stands. To lead the kid back to where he should be encourages him to have hope, but without acting to give him it. Words are empty when actions don’t reflect it.

The kid begs to let him free. Lead him somewhere else, not back to his prison. No one will take him back in the orphanage. He deserves to be free. He can take care of himself out here- a string of reasons to grasp why he shouldn’t go back.

Shadow continues to walk in silence.

…

Perhaps it was pity. Shadow would like to believe it is, but it’s hard to describe the pull of his actions towards another decision. He felt this was right, despite denial weighing on this choice.

Shadow returned to the tall building, where Miles— although surprised to see his return— welcomed him back warmly. When asked for the reason of his return, Shadow provides a rather bashful explanation.

He doesn’t know how to take care of a child.

—

References + Character Design and Personality Rambles

Eyyyy it’s the old man (quite literally at this point. He’s like 200+ years??). How did he survive all those years in isolation without going insane?? I have no idea. He probably talks to the animal inhabitants of the place he lived in I think. I like to think maybe he found himself an ancient library to make himself at home and spent most of his time reading books and doing house chores.

To be honest I tried to reference other Shadow redesigns because I also wanted to put some more Black Arms traits on him, but I honestly don’t know know much about the Black Arms so all he got was a longer tail <3

He’s a tiiiny bit pinker in this design. Like the red highlights on his quills are more pivoted towards the pink on the color wheel, and the white fur also has a tint of pink. No reason. He just gets to be slightly pinker. As a treat.

^^ (Miles noticed. Shadow did not.)

Anyways, you may be wondering, why didn’t Shadow take the offer of staying with Miles the first time? After being alone without friends were so long, you would think he is drawn to the idea of having company again. Well, the thing is, I think that Shadow hates change, in a way. He’s drawn himself away from society, lived self sustained, without the pressures and all that. Suddenly, he gets the offer to reintegrate into a society he is not well versed in? Seems incredibly overwhelming. And Shadow believes he was perfectly content in his serene lifestyle.

He only reconsidered the second time because he doesn’t know how to take care of the kid he freshly adopted (and probably not correctly adopted either) and only thought of Tails for help. As far as he knows, Tails is the only other old friend that exists alongside him right now so…

This sets up the story of Shadow and Tails tries to take care of this kid and slowly forms into a type of found family that doesn’t quite fit into the boundaries of what a family would be like. They are not even close to traditional family roles, I think, other than a child-parent relationship between Shadow and Sparks (who I have yet to introduce)

During this story, Shadow gets back into the action of adventure again. He’s reminded of the exhilaration he felt in the past. Even little things such as banter and skating down hill. He missed it all, although he doesn’t admit it.

Here is Miles!! He dropped the name “Tails” after a while, deeming it something he doesn’t identify as deeply with anymore. (Maybe because no one was around to call him that old nickname anymore)

So you know how I mentioned he’s become an entrepreneur of sorts? It was bound to happen, I think. Imagine living 200+ years and still not figuring out how to earn the most money and live comfortably.

Anyways, while coloring his design, I did realize that he vaguely reminds me of Eggman… it’s probably the red, gold and white colors. Fits him well though, yeah? He always did share some traits with Eggman, I think. He just turned out more benevolent, he still has the high tech tendencies that Eggman held, as well as other habits.

I think Miles had earned some of an ego over time. When most acquaintances leave(died), and you rise to the top, everyone feels so far. And Miles stop bothering to seek out meaningful relationships to save him some suffering. He can still have fun, he can still have friends- just not with the strong intimate bond he had with his initial family.

When Shadow returned, he felt a spark- the hope- the opportunity to have a semblance of the old life again. Nostalgia is a strong feeling. That is why he offered for Shadow to stay. He didn’t expect him to, but that didn’t stop his heart from swelling with joy when Shadow did return.

Here is Sparks! The kid Shadow picked off the street yaknow yaknow… He is meant to resemble Sonic. Not uncannily resemble him though. Just enough that both Shadow and Tails can look at him and think… he kind of reminds me of his other blue hedgehog I had a deep connection with….

Part of why Shadow adopted Sparks is honestly because of his resemblance to Sonic. He would not like to acknowledge it, as it seems like such a cruel thing to give the hope of a new connection to someone that doesn’t know that that new connection did not start off new at all in the other side.

Of course, Sparks acts nothing like Sonic, despite similar appearances. Even though Sparks also shares the same sentiments— wanting freedom— as well as abilities— such as superspeed— Sparks acts more towards the pessimistic side. He’s not as charming as Sonic had been. (And although he does have superspeed, I believe it’s not to the extent that Sonic had.)

Additionally, when Shadow had been taking him back to the orphanage, he really wasn’t forced. Sparks intended to follow him back. Perhaps out of habit. And inevitable loop of escaping but returning once again. But also because if cowardice, knowing he wouldn’t be able to make it by himself. He’s immature, he’s inexperienced, Sparks is aware of that, yet still tries- only to the extent of what he knows he can succeed: aka running away, but never staying away. His cowardice is one of the traits he does not share with Sonic.

During his description of the orphanage to Shadow, he’s a bit of an unreliable narrator. The orphanage isn’t as miserable as Sparks describes it as. It’s a pretty normal orphanage, Sparks is just a troublemaker- and he hates the idea of being trapped in one place.

Anyways, Sparks resembles a star of sorts. He’s a little star themed. <3

[theintroverse]

Honestly, both regular Sparks of Hope and the Sparks of Despair AU would make great TV shows

@minnesotamedic186 @hostess-of-horror @resbit @pastelprince18 @color-cacophony @bramble-scramble

All in favor of doing some episode scripts for the hell of it? For either concept?

phantom looks and sounds like the "my power is forcing everyone sing" villain in Saturday morning cartoons. he'd probably be fine with it.

rabbid mario and Luigi getting into it and have whole verse just say something they could have summed up in one sentence

meanwhile, edge and rabbid Rosalina are banging their heads against a wall to the beat in pain.

rm: would you like to end this a battle with a duet with me signora?

edge: if it's a love song i will stab you

rm: (throws 99 percent of the songs he had away) No never! hehehehe

Phantom does have Saturday morning cartoon villain vibes in the best way. But he will regret this once he finds someone who's a better singer than him, or at least equal. It already happened with Bea and look how that turned out.

Rabbid Luigi does an extremely cringe (/affectionate) rap about Taco Tuesday while breakdancing