#stone island shadow project

[theridge1979]

[closetofcuriosities]

Stone Island Shadow Project AW18 - Scarabeo Utility Anorak

[als0als0]

[grrl-beetle]

Stone Island Shadow Project

[erikbjerkesjo]

#ErikBjerkesjö footwear work for Shadow Project #StoneIsland

[eldrith]

ғʀᴏᴍ ᴇᴅᴇɴ ; ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ.

ʜᴏɴᴇʏ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ; ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴍɪʀʀᴏʀ ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴀɢᴏ

jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader words: 3.1k synopsis: jacaerys falls for a woman in aegon's garden. notes: happy haunting season! here's part one (more of an introduction or prologue) to my october mini-series! a little horror love-letter from me to youse <3 so many thanks to my beautiful sweet brains @useralba & @dipperscavern ... dippy fetched my header for me & they basically co-wrote this whole concept. chapter warnings: this is The Most Normal™️ part out of the whole series so not much. canon-typical mentions of death/grief, but jace is thugging it out. morally gray jacaerys (& reader) throughout the story, though hes p normal in this. series masterlist. main masterlist.

A SHARP ACHE PIERCES JACAERYS’S MIND. 

It has lingered, ebbing and flowing in the corner of his vision since the news came by raven this afternoon; whispers of fury, nostrils flared around the Painted Table as gasps of shuddered grief echoed in the dusting quiet. A gust of sharp wind blows his curls from his temple, his lips wettened and chilled by the cold of eve. 

Soil turns soft underfoot as Jacaerys stalks down a trail less frequented; the Outer Bailey of Dragonstone Castle is thick with land, and yet rather sparse in people - most of whom are within tubs. Or, more likely, tending to those within the tubs - though tonight, as much as it can be afforded, he wishes not to not remain within those suffocating walls.

Walls which still echo, in the slumbering quiet when candles are all snuffed and guards repose drearily against stone, with laughter and footsteps of his kin; walls which whisper of doves, wings clipped and soiled by blood of innocent, by hatred stale and harbored.

Walls which used to hold his family - which now cage the fragmented remainder of such a thing; of tense jaws and eyes that cannot help but glaze over each other in pursuit of some long predetermined destiny. 

He sniffs against the chill of the evening, rather disturbed by the beauty, raw and wild, of the island - steep cliffs clumped by wildgrass and staggering up into sharp black slates, which yawn high into the sky; the Mont, steeping with heat and nesting ancient beasts within its belly.

And the garden, just ahead - a primordial thing, once shining and primed by the glory of a beautiful empire. When he'd stormed from the council room, he'd been rather dead-set upon the garden - if only in a bout of frustration lingering in the denial of his mother, yet projected as a sharp mind ache that laid somewhere in the bowels of Aegon's Garden. Searching for a figure, one that likely exists in only his imagination - the one he's seen through bleary eyes of his chamber window, dancing through leaves and past faces of stone; their presence a low hum in the back of his mind that pierces and grates against his resolve.

The castle’s hearths burn low now after supper, and the eve falls dreary upon quiet ocean-misted moors. His footsteps drag untenanted, burdened by the weight of some distant crown as he clenches tight to his pommel. 

Those empty feet had indeed carried him all the way down from the tower; past guards and faces familiar, as though his mind was tethered to a memory, a shadow flickered in the distance of his chamber window.

The cliffs are black in the fall of night, the walls of the keep warm but crumbling in the lower Baileys. The Sept - a rather forgotten relic these days - has a soft glow from within; though through the thickening fog, Jacaerys wonders if the figures he sees within are truly there. 

Silent Sisters, his mind whispers, though there is no body reclaimed for them to prepare. She lies with the Red Queen still; a war without bodies, though he fights the thought from festering - no bones to wrap, no flesh to burn. Only names, which will die on the tongues of those who are too agonized, too vengeful to mourn.  

The trail is unkempt; it is not often the inhabitants of the island come to the Garden, less so now that looming war plagues the realms. Death grasps Dragonstone Castle in its implacable grip these days; and anger, that hungry beast that bites at the tail of revenge - it ravages his house. 

He has known since the very first moon they came to Dragonstone, all that time ago - in the earlier years; Luke, Joff, and himself - stumbling over hilts longer than their legs, watching the spiraling towers of Dragonstone become swallowed by thick clouds. And there had been Maester Gerardys, in the first of many lessons to come round the table, tone imbued with something rather distant, gaze fixed upon the window. 

Even now, years later, Jacaerys knows that the ground he walks is tainted - the Dragonmont looms, its acidic breaths falling in years over toppling years, watching Dragon Kings rise and leave for their birthright; and yet still it remains, sprinkling its volcanic acids to leech into the earth below.

The soil the castle was built upon is imbued with the very acid that grows beneath the island’s crust - and from it, the plants in Aegon’s Garden now grow unruly, unbidden; No longer tended to by hands familiarized with their needs. 

The soil is rich, Maester Gerardys had looked out the sharp window in the drum, eyes weathered as the skies. But even when the Conqueror landed, it was unfit for nurturing life. We eat not from the fruit which grows from this side of the island. The blooms stay within their home, and return with each cycle of life back into the ground. 

Evening fog swallows the burst of trees on the other side of the Thorned Dragon; it twists into the sky high enough that Jacaerys can see the horns through the iron gates to the garden. Fresh sprouts crawl out of the earth from under the wall, curled with the kiss of frost which visits each evening and thawed by the island's sun come each morning. Life into death.

The circle turns. 

The gates to the garden are marred with the same rust that crawls up the chains lining the Western Docks; Jacaerys grasps the cold metal and pushes through with surprising ease. 

A creak of groaning metal. Trees are gnarled; they twist and wind down the path that he walks, his mind lingering up in the thick clouds - a faint gust sends the scent of smoke through his nose. 

Dragonfire. 

A clench within his chest; the falling of the Queen Who Never Was echoes in his mind, the fluttering of raven’s wings, the whisper in a chamber much too empty for all the people who occupied it - and a suppression of the stab of loss which threatens to crawl out his throat. 

The garden is bright, despite the falling daylight. It bursts with untamed indigenous flora, thick with the air of blossoms - roses, red and thorned; bark, dampened upon twisted trees older than his mother’s mother, rough under his palms. Stoned statues loom with twisted grins in the half-light, some relic of his ancestors which turn now to mock him in his solitary march.  

Jacaerys’s breath comes out in a puff of fogged chill - the evening brings a cool seabreeze, although his heart has always beat rather warm.

 A gentle caress seems to bring forth a curling smile from a bushel of red anemone blossoms as he passes - a twitch of a grin upon his own lips though the lingering feeling of walking deeper into a shadow looms within his mind. 

Any semblance of peace is disrupted at the slither of fabric around a lingering statue of a melancholy ancestor, a rustled noise - his heart stops. 

Though his mind is muddled with tumult, there is some life breathed back into him when he catches a glimpse of shining tresses around a tall thorny hedge, and the snaking curl of dress skirts around the bottom; and so he begins to stalk after the scent of earth, of some deep turn of late summerfruit. 

Another flicker of movement, a rustle in the vines; and still he follows, heart slamming as the clouds roll over the sunlight. 

In the deeper part of the garden lies the Thorned Dragon - a once-wonderful iron statue which now crawls with thick vines and time-bitten rusted holes; though below sits stoned benches for respite.

And there Jacaerys halts his footsteps, deadening at the sight before him. 

Concealed, only the whisper of skirts near hidden feet, strands of glowing hair, the peek of one timid eye thickened by long wisps - of a brow that arches, peeking only just so from beside the iron Dragon. 

A young woman. 

“Hello.” His voice is schooled with confidence - this is his island, after all. 

The sun glints in a sharp fight against the rolling clouds; the foggy cloud around his feet swirl as he carries himself with curiosity - it is unusual for Housestaff to venture into such a place. At his voice, there is a flicker, a twitch - slither of skirts until his gaze meets the pair of wide eyes. 

You stand on legs doelike and unsure, bent slightly at the hips as if prepared to skitter away at the slightest of movement; and he, with a skip in his heart at the glow of your skin, the flutter of lashes upon sweet cheeks. 

“Hello,” you echo his very essence, voice a mirror of his own tone though syrupy and curling with the warmth of summerfall. 

He is struck at once by your beauty. 

A breeze picks up; the scent of rich earth beneath his boots, the thick blooms even in so chill a climate. Skirts blown back gently, your hair rustles against the wind and he finds the soft beauty upon your visage arresting. 

Your feet are bare. His brows drawn, he moves just slightly, cloak fluttering in the wind; and you, watching with owlish eyes as he nods cordially, struck with the natural compulsion to greet you with proper manners. 

“I am Jacaerys,” he is rather unsure why he omits Prince from his introduction - though with a pang of storm clouds looming in his mind, he dwells not. 

Indeed it matters little, for you offer some sudden beaming smile - a bright thing, a leap from his heart at such a blessing from the Gods as you have been given; and you nod gently, lips glistened and pale. 

A sharp smile, something that would seem coy, unpropitious if not for the small flash of kindness that lingers in your stare. 

“-Jacaerys Velaryon,” you finish, dropping into a curtsey that brings about a slight glide of interest over your form; he chastises himself sharply in his head, bowing back. 

A Houseworker, then, though he’s never seen you in the halls; nor has he seen a maid or cook wear such material of their gowns. He reclines upon a stone bench; you follow after he invites you kindly, your eyes skittering over the fine folds of his tailored clothing, lingering on the line of his jaw, then hooking rather intently on the dragon upon his chest. Your own dress seems to shift with the light - it is white, then gray, then a near muted purple; it fits with the glow of your chest, with the glint in your eyes.  

You tell him your name then and it lodges itself warm and wanting into the cavity of his chest. It drips with the glazed sweetness of blooms left in the care of the sun and preserved in the chill of shade.  

Pines linger tall around you; a sea of green, though the true thing lies far in the distance, its tidal breath a slow roll in the evening air. Your fingers are lithe as they trace over a spiny vine hanging off the Thorned Dragon; and yet, peculiarly, you give no hiss as you press your thumb down against a thorn - in fact, your lips curl into a quick grin, eyes dark in interest when the thorn nearly pierces your flesh.

“-Why are you here?” His question is one rather improper, though he finds himself perturbed and cannot bring himself to feel remarkably bad. Indeed, your dreamy hum silences any doubt that may linger in the back of his mind, “It was my assumption not many come to Aegon's Garden anymore.” He admits. 

And something about his words must be amusing to you; a grin that you hide with a tilt of your head, your hand leaving the thorn on the vine. He can smell the scent of your hair; a honeyed thing, a gentle thing. A sweet thing. 

“I tend to it,” you murmur, voice gentle as a psalm, though your eyes flicker off towards the peak of a twisted treeline upon the far end of the garden, past the murky bog. “-Though sometimes I feel as though it tends to me.” 

Dreamlike, your eyes glaze over - and Jacaerys is left rather uncomfortable against the cooling stone. A foreboding prickles at the edge of his mind; and as fog creeps towards the shore each morning, he has a sudden urge to back away from your curling chill - there is something familiar within your lilt, in the way your eyes shift under dappled sunlight. His aunt had much similar a tone when they were young; with fingers that slid between bars of small cages, prodding creatures which nuzzled back against her, musing words that never quite strung together right. 

“And you?” You add now, fingers cupped within your lap. His brows draw as you murmur again, “What brings you here, my Prince?” 

Behind your shoulder is the long path narrowed by closing hedges, by twisted trees and creeping vines untamed and wild with life; with life, a part of him rejoices silently, life, though so much death looms over Dragonstone these days. 

His hesitation lingers in the quiet thick fog that creeps through the grass. “I’m…” His brows furrow, a sudden cloud of amnesia confusing weighing his tongue. He feels almost blank, save for the sweet scent of you beside him. 

“...I don’t know.” 

A flicker of your visage in his peripheral, as if you’ve moved - though when he turns to your countenance once more, he wonders if the sharp, darkly unnerving smile that had flashed onto your face was only in his mind. It unsettles him deeply within his stomach as your eyes remain upon his, muscles lax, as though the smile you’d given earlier was the first in years. 

His mind is too clouded - Rooks Rest has weighed heavy on the tongues of the council today, though it seems it weighs even heavier so on the mind. He must be rather exhausted. 

 “I…” He struggles once more, unsettled by the false image of that hungry grin, gaze focused upon the soil, fresh and puffy below his boots. “I thought I was…looking for something.” It is said absently, straining to recall his initial intentions - and it feels only slightly incorrect. 

You do not say anything to this, and for the sake of his nerves, he pretends to ignore the growing smile slow over your countenance in the corner of his vision.

In a breeze cooler than expected, his unnerved eyes rise to the Castle - up, to the window of his own chambers high within the spire of the Stone Drum with such direct view of the garden, of this very statue. 

Gulls cry in the distance; the blooms overgrown above your head seem to droop, as if bowing towards your companionship. A beauty Jacaerys has never once fathomed; though he is momentarily distracted by the movement of your hands, once so still within your lap. 

It is with surprise when he finds your fingers delicately peeling away at some foreign fruit, revealing the glistening flesh within - and your lips, wettened with your tongue as you pluck at the tissue of its skin. 

A heaviness in his throat, muddled bewilderment leaking through the cracks of his mind; though any true alarm melts away as you slowly bring the fruit to your gentle, awaiting lips, its crimson juice staining your fingers. 

Slow bites, teeth sinking into tender flesh in the stillness of the bright garden; and Jacaerys, transfixed upon the glow of your skin, the gentle sigh from your chest at the taste. It is bizarre he has never once seen you here - perhaps you are new to the island; with the influx of residents within the castle, it has provided ample new jobs for the smallfolk around. He is certain he’d have remembered such arresting eyes. 

It is a sight so innocent, yet so incredibly salacious in its sudden intensity - he finds it a battle to cast away his gaze; his toes drag through the dirt upon the earth, watching the sprouts bounce back upwards once the pressure of his presence is relieved. 

“Have you ever had one?” Your voice curls through fog, some sweet melody that startles him. His cheeks are flushing red, though you are much too enraptured with the fruit, lips stained dark as wine. “-A fig,” you mend, an afterthought as your eyes rise once more to the larger of the trees deep in the gardens; and a buzzing haze that creeps through Jace’s mind as the empty shell falls from your fingers onto the ripe dirt below. 

He watches it lie to rest, bespeckled with the damp dark of soil. 

The circle turns. 

His mouth is dry, and he struggles to swallow; “No,” he admits, clouded by déjà vu and a sudden, mild perplexity. “I haven’t.” 

Your lips curve into that slow, knowing smile once more - less unsettling when it is fixed upon his gaze this time. Your fingers trace the smooth skin of another fig before your palm extends, offering it with a slight tilt of your head. “They are divine,” your words lilt, syllables sung out into the garden’s thick air. Divine. 

And gods, you are divine - an arresting thought, one that jolts him out of the trance he’d so unwittingly tumbled into - and with a blink, he hesitates. 

A half-remembered tale told in the dim light of hearths drawn moons, years ago - and he shakes his head, the thought of food at a time like this rather sickening. “Where did you get them?” he wonders instead of accepting, though your palm remains outstretched, enticing. There is a thrumming in his ears, though he realizes with a start that his headache has ceased. 

“They come from me,” you reply coyishly; though there is some glint in your eyes, some shift of the breath you take - and he looks away just before that smile reclaims your face.

A strange girl, he decides. A strange girl, yet quite endearing. 

He cannot help the smile he returns to you, a short chuckle, mostly out of nerves from him which is echoed rather enthusiastically, nearly unsettling in its fervor, by you.

His heart beats faster, though he cannot say why - his lips are wettened by the prod of his tongue, and he pretends not to notice the flush upon your hollowed cheeks, nor the way your head seems to dip lower to observe his countenance. 

“No, thank you,” he declines, voice barely a whisper; and his eyes search yours, your name echoing heavy in his mind - so familiar a name. 

Your smile returns, though this time it is sharper; and with darkened eyes, the corners of your lips twitching as if you already knew what his answer would be. When you respond, it is not what he expects. “As you wish, my Prince.” 

And then you bring the last fig to your chest, fingers delicate even when they tear at the little flesh as though you've been starved; his stomach rolls, entranced as a drip of juice rolls down your chin, crimson against your muted skin. 

Night falls. Council will be called soon, he knows - and the bells will be rung though they are barely heard from outside the inner bailey. Jacaerys is hesitant to leave, yet there is a chill that has begun to seep through his bones; a pit that grows within his stomach. Each pulse of his blood through his heart, a bite of your teeth into the fruit of the fig - but he waits until you’ve finished your repast to clear his throat. 

“I must return,” he decides, a strike of hesitance at your look, that kind stare that flickers in the death of sunlight.

You hesitate as he rises, just for a moment - and then, leaning forward as crimson fingers grasp the stone bench, your smile drops. A fleeting thing, a sparrow upon a windowsill, a hummingbird through the morning air.

 “Thank you, Prince Jacaerys.” 

His brows furrow; and you, staring up at him with a gaze so unalloyed, so pure - a lingering darkness in his chest that grows each day of unrest cooped up in his coddled little nest within the island. 

Though he smiles only gently back at you - a twist of soft pity that bleeds into an odd affection for such a sweet stranger; a much needed respite from the faces much too familiar and suffocating in the choking smoke of war and duty. 

“I suppose I find myself rather lonely,” you confess, eyes dropping to stare at the figs that now rest in your lap - a blink from Jacaerys at the sight of them, once more bewildered at their presence. “Not many come to the garden anymore. I worry I tend to it only for myself these days.” 

Jacaerys finds himself rather uneasy - there is that guilt that coils familiar, a serpent squeezing his stomach. The circle turns, he thinks.  

“I will have to return then, my lady.” He feels rather uneven on his feet, “This garden is quite beautiful.” 

And if you bristle at his assumption of your title, you do not show it; an absent look has plagued your seraphic features, leaving you with shallow breaths and a plumped lower lip. “I would hope so, Jacaerys.”

For a dreadful moment, he fears you might begin to cry; a stoke of regret and pity through him. Though it is quelled rather abruptly as you snap up, eyes staring down the row of hedges behind him before returning to his own, much more warm than before.  

You hold his gaze for a horrible few breaths - and he knows not what to do, as you sit faraway and dreamlike, your hair moving in a breeze he cannot feel.

“Are you turning in soon?” He wonders, unable to quell his curiosity - he cannot imagine your duties much require you to extend your services into the dark of night, though he admittedly has paid less than staunch attention to the Housestaff as of late.

Your eyes remain distant, though a soft wisp of a smile grows as you rise to your height, standing oddly against the vines which creep down towards you. 

You look back beyond his shoulder, a glint of firelight in your eyes though the sun still whispers its last stretches of breath across the indigo sky.

“Not so soon, I'm afraid. The roses need pruning,” you sigh. “I detest thorns.”

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[kaihuntrr]

part one: when the sun was eclipsed.

Grian remembers of a time when Jimmy was still around. And what happened to him.

Another day, another perfect time to set sail.

Another chance to strike at the beasts that terrorized the people.

Grian stood proudly at the bow, facing the large iron gate in the distance. He saw the large shadow cast by the stone walls, its darkness providing a sense of safety to the town’s citizens with  a glint of the canons that adorned the top. It was a ready defense from any invading monsters, though they never dared to swim close to the islands. Maybe those monsters had some intelligence after all if they knew to stay away from the kingdom. They were protected by the king, the navy, and the hunters, each one ensuring humanity could live and thrive within the walls. It was good. It was perfect. 

It was home. 

It was going to be another exciting day. The crew planned to sail off into the sea, to find some beasts to kill, and to return to the love and warmth of the people and recover. Prepare, leave, kill, return, rest, then repeat. The simple, monotonous life of a hunter was easier said than done. A lot of hunters risked their lives every day to keep the people safe and sound. It was one of the most noble deeds a person could do in their life- it was even more noble to be acknowledged by the king himself. 

One day, this crew was going to earn the king’s approval. They had already slain small packs of those disgusting monsters, an impressive feat compared to the one or two beasts other crews their age had taken down. It was only a matter of time before the king addressed him, his brothers, and their crew. Then, they’d be hunters for the king– better than all the rest! It was going to be one of the best days of their lives, he just knew it. 

After all, he was the cunning Grian Solidarity. He was the youngest of his family and had the biggest hunger to prove himself on the wild seas. He and his brothers had made this crew not too long ago, and with how much money they’d been raking in, they just had to be the best out of all the people their age! The amount of people who had looked down on them for just being green, overeager upcomers wasn’t surprising, but Grian could bet those people were eating their own insults now. They just had to be!

Grian rested his hands on the railing, breathing in the fresh air, and hummed in delight. The ship was prepared to set sail and the others would likely return before the gates were scheduled to open. He’d done his part- checking on the weapons and restocking the ship with ammo was pretty easy when he was with Mumbo and Scar- so he had the luxury of sitting back, relaxing while waiting for the others to get on board–

“Grian?” He jumped at the sound of his name. He turned around to see Joel looking around, worried. “Have you seen Jimmy? I haven’t seen him anywhere.” Grian frowned, suddenly concerned.

Jimmy had been acting weird lately. Not only had he gotten that flower tattoo out of nowhere, but he’d been acting a lot more aloof on their hunting trips too. He’d been acting like that for a couple of months at least. He had been pretty scared of the ocean before, when they were younger, but a little exposure therapy didn’t hurt and he’d been fine. It also wasn’t the first time that he had wandered around like this- but he usually came back well before the ship would set sail.

Grian hummed, trying to recall if he had seen his brother in the past few… hours, probably. He ran through where he’d last seen the other members of their crew. He’d seen Cleo hanging around with Mumbo, Scar and Bdubs were doing something together, and Lizzie was out in the port talking to Martyn before he was due to set off with the Kestrels. Grian remembered catching Joel glancing at Lizzie a dozen times earlier, silently wishing she could join them on their hunts. “...No, I haven’t,” he finally said, putting a hand on his chin. “Any idea where he’d be?”

“No, that’s why I was asking you in the first place…,” Joel grumbled. “He’s probably in the harbor somewhere, let’s go look for him.”

“But I just got comfortable…,” Grian jokingly complained. One sour look from Joel made him roll his eyes and relent. Jimmy knew this town like the back of his hand, just like the rest of them. He wasn’t lost, Grian was sure of it. “Fine. But Tim’s probably just wandering around again. You know how he is.” He shrugged. Joel made a small frown and sighed, but followed Grian as the two descended from the ship and into the hustle and bustle of the port town behind them.

—————

So maybe Jimmy had gotten lost somewhere in town.

How was Grian supposed to know that?

Even so, he probably wouldn’t be too hard to find. It wasn’t like the town was… big.

Grian and Joel scoured the marketplace, one of the busier sides of town, in hopes they’d run into Jimmy there. It wasn’t an unusual spot for them to frequent, considering all the supplies and ammo they had to restock themselves with every time they came back to port, so Grian was sure that Jimmy would be around here. Maybe he was buying something for the crew? That would be really nice of him.

Grian looked around the marketplace, seeing a variety of townsfolk going about their day, pointing at imported fabrics, trying out newly minted tools, and smelling the fresh food from different restaurants and stalls. He could hear everything, from barters between villagers to the giggles of children to older men bickering with each other about their wives. The place was alive; it felt so amazing to get lost in the crowd, but there wasn’t any trace of his brother. 

He looked at Joel and gestured to the crowd and nodded. Joel nodded back, understanding the thought Grian had in mind. It was best to split up.

Grian slipped away into the crowd of people and cupped his mouth. “Tim!” he shouted, looking around. “Come on Tim- we have to leave soon!”

“Jim, this isn’t funny!” Joel called out from somewhere behind him. “Where are you?”

The brothers sifted through the crowd, looking around for any sign that their brother might’ve been around. It shouldn’t have been too hard– he’d gotten himself lost before, and Grian and Joel were always able to find him. The only annoying bit was how often Jimmy got lost. They had been in and around this town for more than a year! He should know his way around at least!

“There he is!” Joel called out, pointing up the street to one of the narrow streets to where Jimmy had just exited from. Jimmy looked around for a moment, apparently not seeing them, then exhaled what seemed to be a sigh of relief as he shook his head. He turned and started walking in the direction of the ship. 

Grian and Joel pushed through the crowd, calling out for their brother as he still seemed to not notice them, even as they grew closer. Grian was sure he was shouting- why hadn’t Jimmy noticed yet?

“Tim! Tim!” Grian called out for what felt like the hundredth time, the sound finally registered. Jimmy turned around and looked at his brothers with wide eyes, allowing them to catch up to him. Grian crossed his arms as he stood in front of him, “Where were you?”

Jimmy rubbed the back of his head and forced an awkward smile. “Nowhere important, just had to check up on something.” His eyes darted around, looking at anything but Grian and Joel. “Sorry if I scared you a bit, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“We’ve been looking for you for the past thirty minutes,” Joel groaned, “And this isn’t the first time you’ve vanished right before launch. There has to be some reason you’ve been wandering off.”

Jimmy frowned and looked down at the ground, as if unsure of himself. There had to be some type of problem making him act the way he was. Why couldn’t he just tell them…? They were brothers and there were no secrets between them. What could possibly be so serious and so secret-?

“Like I said, it’s nothing for you to worry about,” Jimmy insisted, his voice more stern. It sounded almost like he was on edge. Then he paused, slightly shaking his head. “We’re leaving soon right? I’m not late, so it’s fine.”

Joel looked unhappy about that answer, crossing his arms. “That’s the plan.” He looked briefly up at the sky then back down to Jimmy. “I think everyone else is back on board, we should get moving.” He looked over the other ships as other hunters prepared for their own voyages, still frowning.

“Definitely,” Jimmy agreed. He looked back and forth from the ships to his brothers, a smirk forming on his face. That look of mischievousness tended to show up when he’d thought of something stupid. “How about we race to the ship?”

Grian shot a glance at Joel, an unspoken scheme passing between them, then he looked back to Jimmy. “So long as you don’t trip over a bunch of swords and impale yourself….” Grian shrugged nonchalantly, earning a small snicker from Joel and a bright blush of embarrassment on Jimmy’s face.

“Wh- I’m not that clumsy!” Jimmy sputtered, his shoulders rising as he started shaking his head adamantly.

Yeah right, Grian almost said, but he kept it to himself.

Joel grinned, “Sure you are! Out of all of us, you’re gonna be the one to die first, probably doing something stupid,” he pushed Jimmy aside, breaking into a run as Grian followed right behind him. 

“And you’re slow too!” Grian called out, glancing behind him momentarily to see the stunned look on Jimmy’s face.

“Wh- no countdown?! You’re supposed to do a countdown!” Jimmy shouted as he scrambled after them, “Oh you’re gonna get it! Cheaters!”

Grian and Joel laughed as Jimmy attempted to catch up, chasing after them like they had chased each other as kids. Their hearty laughter filled the air, breaking whatever tension there had been between them. Nothing but bright smiles and exhausted breaths hung between them as they boarded the ship, teasing and prodding each other all the way up the gangplank, sharing childish grins and teasing until it was finally time for those iron gates to open once more.

—————

The sea had a calmness to it.

A still, uneasy calmness that Grian couldn’t quite describe.

He could remember the stories hunters would tell each other; how the apparent silence meant an easy voyage for sailors, but the moment that hunters let their guard down a swarm of beasts would descend upon the ship. That was how arrogant hunters met their doom, because they’d doubted their enemy. A good hunter would never let their guard down, would train to keep their skills sharp, and would never doubt their enemy’s power. 

Grian stood in the crow’s nest, using a telescope to search the ocean for any sign of monsters. He didn’t see much, just a quiet, endless ocean. The one thing he was slightly unnerved with was the lack of birds perched on the ship, there weren’t even any in the skies. Though… maybe that was a good thing? He wasn’t too sure.

It must be nice, being able to fly wherever you want.

Their crew was far from the Crown Isles. It had been two and a half days of straight voyaging, and Grian had begun to get quite bored. It was all the same monotonous routine without a monster to fight. There wasn’t that much to do on a ship except sleep, read, or play games. Things would just get interesting later, but ‘later’ was so far away….

He could hear faded conversations from his friends down below and the distant rumble of the engine. Sighing to himself and deciding that the coast was clear, Grian shut his telescope and tucked it away in his bag. He made his way down the wooden ladder, feeling the nice breeze on his skin and breathed it in.

“See anything from up there?” Joel called out from the steering wheel. 

Grian shook his head. “Nothing, so we can relax for a little while longer,” he shrugged, looking up at Joel. “It’s a nice break.”

“It sure is!” Joel replied.

Grian looked across the deck to see Jimmy and Scar having a pleasant conversation. Grian felt his heart swell at the sight of Scar’s goofy grin. He was such a lovable idiot. He felt his heart skip as the two locked eyes and Scar waved him over.

“Heya, captain!” Scar swung his arm around Grian the moment he arrived, “What’d you see up there?”

“I haven’t seen anything, so no worries there.” Grian pushed Scar’s arm away and shook his head. “What were you two talking about?”

Jimmy widened his eyes and shot a glance at Scar. Scar didn’t notice as he immediately responded, “Oh! Jimmy here was talking about this gift he’d give you-.” Jimmy immediately swatted his arm, then looked away in embarrassment. Scar paused, then slowly turned to Jimmy, “...Was I not supposed to say that?”

“Scar!” Jimmy groaned, his cheeks getting redder and redder as he covered his face with his hands with a groan. “Go get Joel, now that you’ve ruined it…!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Scar laughed, walking away. “But I still think that idea of yours is really cute!”

Grian’s gaze followed Scar for a short while as he walked up the deck, then he blinked and looked back at Jimmy. “Gift…?” He raised an eyebrow, looking suspiciously at Jimmy’s hands, now firmly stuffed into his pockets.

“I- I thought you two might like something since I’ve been off doing… other stuff lately,” Jimmy raised his shoulders, his voice growing softer. “I got a gift, something for all three of us.”

Jimmy flinched as he heard Joel’s hearty laugh. “Jim got a present for his little brothers?” Joel grinned mockingly. “I was wondering when you’d stop slacking off and fulfill your duty as the oldest to spoil your little brothers!”

Jimmy’s expression soured. “Wh-! Well if you have that attitude with me, I’m not giving it to you!” He huffed, but Grian could see the facsimile of the stern look on Jimmy’s face. Grian raised his eyebrows and shook his head as Joel rolled his eyes.

“Aw, Jiiim…!” Joel cooed, tilting his head, trying to get Jimmy to look at him with his sweet-little-brother puppy-dog eyes. They usually worked. “Come on, please?” Jimmy’s expression soured further but it only gave Joel an evil glint in his eyes. “Don’t make me do it.” Silence. Joel rolled his eyes and nudged Grian, both of them snickering as Joel took in a deep breath.

Then, he did what he’d always done since they were kids: being lovingly annoying to their eldest brother.

“Please please please please-.”

One of Jimmy’s eyes twitched as he shot a deathly glare at Joel. “Joel, quit it!”

“You forced me,” Joel said defensively, shrugging almost helplessly with a smug look on his face. In a blink, he was back to puppy-dog eyes. “Jiiiiimmm…!”

Jimmy sighed, relenting as he relaxed his shoulders. “Sometimes I wish I could stay mad at both of you forever,” he tilted his head in exasperation. “I got these.”

Jimmy pulled out two small things from his pocket. 

Lockets.

They were small and oblong, silver teardrops carved with their initials on one side and a long feather on the back. They hung from silver chains with delicate little clasps. Jimmy gave them the locket with their respective initials. Grian stared at it with wide starry eyes. He opened the locket and gasped.

“Th- these are….”

“Remember the photo we took on the day we got this ship?” Jimmy asked fondly. “I was able to make some copies- and I got them in a nice locket for all of us!” 

The locket’s picture was of the three of them standing together with their ship behind them, all nice and new. Grian remembered that day fondly- all the emotions they’d had when finishing their training to be hunters, the well wishes of their parents and support of their friends, and finally seeing the ship they’d call their own.

It was all so… perfect. 

“Do you like it…?”

“It’s… it’s wonderful, Tim,” Grian was speechless, shifting his hand around to examine the locket from all sides. “I love it.”

“Yeah… these are great gifts, Jim,” Joel nodded, unclasping his locket to put it around his neck. “They’re the perfect good luck charms.”

“You think so?” Jimmy smiled as Grian and Joel nodded in agreement. “Oh that’s great, there’s a little something special in them, too.”

“It’s pretty special as is, Jim,” Joel kept his eyes on the locket, looking at it from every angle with adoration, “what’s there to top?”

“It’s a surprise, so you’ll figure it out.”

“Have it your way, Tim.” Grian stuck his tongue out as he slipped his locket on. Though, he did appreciate a good mystery, so cracking the surprise was definitely going to be a fun pastime of his. “Anyway, since there aren’t any monsters around, how about we share a toast?” He clapped his hands together and looked at his brothers eagerly.

“Are you sure about that?” Joel asked, wariness rang in his voice. “We’re out at sea, G, you wouldn’t want–!”

“It’s alright, we’ll be fine!” Grian waved his hand in dismissal. “We haven’t seen a beast for days! Just a drink or two won’t be too much of a hassle. Martyn isn’t here so we don’t have a problem with drunks or lightweights!” 

“You make a good point…,” Joel muttered, relenting a little. Jimmy glanced at him and shook his head, but Joel shrugged. “Fine. Just a drink or two.”

Grian nodded and put a hand to his chest. “Just one or two, promise.”

The crew did have a few barrels of liquor stashed away, and it would be a waste to keep those down there forever. The three of them got to work bringing some of the barrels up, and with some coaxing, the rest of the crew got together to share a few drinks. It’d help with the boredom, but it was also to take some of their edges off, as there were tales of hunters being overly paranoid and turning on each other while out to sea… those were definitely some odd stories.

Grian sipped some of the ale in his mug, swirling the burning liquid as he looked on at his crew. Scar, Joel and Cleo were passing jokes around, Mumbo was explaining something to Bdubs, who didn’t look like he was retaining any of it, and Jimmy was… well, he was by himself, standing at the railing and staring off into the water.

“Hey.” Jimmy flinched at Grian’s voice as he approached. Grian gave his brother a smile, but his eyes widened when he saw Jimmy… dumping his drink over the side of the ship? “Uh- are you good, Tim?”

Jimmy blinked. “Wh- oh! Whoops,” he grinned sheepishly as he quickly reoriented his cup and frowned at the alcohol remaining. “Guess my head’s starting to buzz now, huh?” 

“What’re you doing over here, instead of over there with everybody else?” Grian tilted his head towards the rest of their crew. They looked happy, all together like that. They were having fun. “Unless you want to be alone for a little while…?”

“I don’t mind the company–,” Jimmy said quickly, looking at the sea. “It’s… it’s nice that everyone’s enjoying themselves.” He almost looked withdrawn, like the alcohol was making him more sad than happy. Grian frowned. Jimmy was usually a loud, boisterous drunk, teetering on being overly friendly– not this.

“Yeah, but you should be enjoying yourself too,” Grian nudged Jimmy’s shoulder. 

“Grian…, I know you want me to have fun but…,” Jimmy sighed. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for everyone to get drunk. Someone should keep watch, keep the ship from getting into any trouble….” He trailed off, but Grian could see his eyes shift to Bdubs as his voice lowered.

Grian took a quick glance at Bdubs, seeing how happy the man was with the rest of the crew. It was hard to imagine such a bubbly man starting his hunting career off with a death.

The Storm Chaser had been a fine ship, boasting a streak of thirteen beasts slain each month, and one of their members was Bdubs’ brother, Pungence. With its iron and brass covered hull and naval blue and blood red sails, it was easy to spot the ship out in the waters.

Which made the discovery of its wreckage all the more horrifying. 

It was said that the crew was arrogant enough to let their guards down, only for a beast to come and tear their ship apart. Grian remembered Bdubs adamantly pushing against the story and blamed it on something else- like faulty machinery or an ambush, though he couldn’t remember much from before he’d been found floating amongst the wreckage. Grian wasn’t sure what to think about it.

Grian shook his head. “We won’t get into any trouble today, Tim, we’ll be okay,” he put a hand on his brother’s shoulder and smiled warmly. Jimmy was still a little antsy, but a good drink could loosen him up enough to let go of his worries. “So come on! Let’s go join them!” He caught Jimmy by the elbow, pulling him across the deck to where the others were. 

He tried not to pay too much attention to how Jimmy flinched when he’d grabbed his arm.

“Grian, I-....” Jimmy stopped after just a few steps. Grian furrowed his eyebrows as Jimmy’s eyes widened and looked around, like he was expecting to see something, only for him to shake his head and smile when there was nothing there. Grian wasn’t sure if it was genuine or not. He was really regretting the buzz in the back of his skull. It made it hard to think, hard to read Jimmy as he said, “...Sure. Let’s go see them.”

Grian took a few steps forward, but started walking quicker as he saw the smiling faces of his friends, his crew. He practically dragged Jimmy all the way to the others. It didn’t seem to bother Jimmy too much, at least Grian didn’t think so. “Hey! Guess who made it?” Grian chuckled mischievously as Jimmy rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Jimothy!” Bdubs giggled as they walked up, finally blinking out of his blank stare to wave wildly at them. “There you are!” He slung his arm around Jimmy, the sudden motion startling the man. Bdubs’ grin only grew wider. “Aw come on! Don’t be so jumpy!” 

“Are you sure they’re not drunk?” Jimmy whispered to Grian as he glanced at the others, but his voice was still loud enough for the rest of the crew to hear.

“What? We’re fine,” Bdubs shook his head, dismissing the notion. “Just wanted to mess with you, captain. What’s with the drinks all of a sudden?”

“Can’t we just have a drink every once in a while?” Grian chuckled bashfully. He took a sip from his own mug. “I don’t want you all going insane.”

“Can’t go insane when we’re all messing with Jim! You’re heaps of entertainment!” Joel laughed as he wrapped his arm around Jimmy’s neck, pulling him down with such force that it sloshed the few remaining drops of his drink down Jimmy’s shirt. Joel paused, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked at his brother, slowly taking in the solemn, almost distant look on Jimmy’s face. “Why do you look so upset?”

“I-... it’s nothing. It’s hard to talk about, that’s all.” Jimmy looked away. “But don’t worry about me!” He raised his hands, forcing a laugh, “Let’s just finish the rest of the drinks.”

“We’ll stop worrying when you stop being so sad,” Cleo mumbled amusingly, not a trace of malice in their voice as they took a swig of their mug. Grian wasn’t sure how many times she’d drank out of it, but he didn’t remember seeing her refill it at all. “But whatever you say, captain.”

Grian downed the rest of his drink, savoring the burning feeling. It was always fun to drink with friends, much more so when they were all having a good time. Grian easily let the world slip out of focus with his friends- his family right in front of him, so he didn’t notice the weather turning. 

He didn’t notice the dark clouds covering the sky. He didn’t notice when the chill breeze of the ocean turned freezing on his skin. And he didn’t notice how much the waves had begun to sway the ship from side to side with how much he was swaying on his own. He couldn’t focus on much with his buzzing head, even if–

“GUYS!” Scar’s sudden shout alerted the entire crew. “It’s a storm! Watch out for beasts!”

That wasn’t good.

“Get to your positions, quickly!” Grian shouted. “A storm could spell trouble!”

The crew immediately flew to their positions. Scar climbed up to the crow’s nest as fast as he could, Cleo ran towards one of the cannons with Joel beside her on the left, Jimmy and Mumbo ran to the right to hold their cannons, and Grian picked up a harpoon and dashed to the bow of the ship.

Thunder rumbled overhead, the waves began to crash against the hull of the ship. Storms were fine. They’ve weathered some nasty storms in the past, and this one was just the same as the others–!

Then Grian heard something.

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

What was that sound? A heartbeat-? His-? Then why did it sound like it was coming from the water? 

Then the ship suddenly began to tilt sideways, the deck slanting under their feet.

“H-Hold on tight!” Grian grabbed the closest railing and held on for dear life as the ship continued to tilt. He was closest to Jimmy and Mumbo, the three of them clinging to the railing. Grian shook his head, squinting at the water as he attempted to get a look at the monster.

He couldn’t see any sign of the beast, not its jaws or body. The whole sea around them had turned dark from the storm, too dark for the creature’s silhouette to be visible under the surface.

Rain fell out of the sky and crashed on the deck, pelting the surrounding seas in a blurry mess as Grian struggled to see. The odd, rhythmic tha-thumps drummed in Grian’s ears, the only thing he could hear over the howling wind and the booming thunder. Wind whipped around, further obscuring Grian’s vision.

Then Grian’s whole body froze as a bone-chilling trill reverberated through the depths, making his teeth rattle in his skull. 

The sound reverberated through the chaos of the sea, rumbling the wood and steel of the ship, and down to Grian’s very soul. That sound… it didn’t sound like anything like the beasts he took down in the past. The hand gripping the harpoon trembled as he tried to look for the beast in the water.

The ship continued to tilt. 

“Why aren’t any of you firing?!” Joel snapped, his voice barely audible above the sounds of the sky and sea. 

“There isn’t anything to shoot!” Grian shouted back, lifting his harpoon high for the chance of this beast to reveal itself. Nothing- nothing at all. Grian’s heartbeat quickened, searching desperately for a shadow in the water. A beast couldn’t hide itself as it was attempting to flip over an entire ship…! It needed to have a shadow! There had to be some kind of shadow! His eyes turned further out, where the water turned lighter very suddenly, almost in a defined line…. 

What if-.... That couldn’t be possible, could it? “U- unless….”

Unless the dark sea surrounding the ship was all a part of the monster’s large shadow.

Grian heaved his arm forward and threw the harpoon into the water, using all of his strength to plunge the blade as deep into the water as he could manage.

The ship suddenly jerked sideways as a loud, earth-shaking growl rumbled through the waters.

Grian lost his grip on the railing, his foot slipping out from under him on the slick deck. He pitched backwards, but the deck fell away under him as the whole ship turned sideways. He felt himself bounce across the deck, scraping the back of his arms and shoulders as he flipped over. One of his hands somehow managed to grab onto a rope, bringing him to a sharp, sudden stop that wrenched his shoulder. Grian heard himself let out a cry of pain that he didn't fully realize he'd made. He looked up, blinking water out of his eyes just in time to watch a shape fall past him-

Jimmy.

Grian let go of the rope and kicked off the sideways deck before he even realized he was moving, just barely clearing the railing as the ship rocked back the other way to right itself.

He plunged into the icy water, already reaching for his brother.

Grian’s body froze as the icy water closed over his head, shock startling his nerves. He pushed through, kicking towards the surface. His head burst out of the water, salt stinging his eyes as he turned his head frantically to look for Jimmy. He couldn’t be too far- maybe he was in shock, maybe so much so that he couldn’t move! Grian turned his head more frantically. He needed to get to him, he needed to find him!

He spotted Jimmy farther out, treading water. The ship must’ve launched him far. With a fire in his heart, Grian began to push through the waves, swimming closer and closer to his brother, every breath fueling him forward. “Tim! Tim!”

“Grian?!” Jimmy turned around. His eyes widened in shock and he glanced from the water around him then back to Grian. He held his hand up. “Grian wait-!”

“Jimmy!” Grian called out, “I’m coming to you! Just hold on!”

Tha-thump.

Tha-thump.

The beast was nearby, probably circling around them. They would be fine- they had to be fine. Grian still had his guns and Jimmy had his dagger. Whatever beast it was could live another day, he didn’t care if it got away! Grian was only focused on getting to Jimmy and getting them both back on the ship.

But Jimmy was shaking his head as Grian continued to swim up to him. In fact- he seemed to be moving further away…!

Jimmy’s face twisted into something painful and almost apologetic. “Grian, I’m sor–!”

A large red fin flashed out of the water and-... Jimmy was gone.

Grian stared at the place where Jimmy had been. 

He could hear his friends’ shouts, muffled and distant to his ears. His stare was hollow and empty as the rhythmic noise slowly faded into nothingness. The monster was gone, and it had taken Jimmy with it.

Grian’s whole world had shattered in a heartbeat.

He didn’t hear himself scream, agony ripping out of his chest. He didn’t stop until his throat gave out.

—————

It had been at least two days since the hunters escaped from Crescent Bay.

Grian was sitting behind the large desk of the captain’s quarters, absentmindedly staring at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head. He was still shaken from the events at Crescent Bay, and judging by the general silence of the ship, everyone else was too, stuck processing it all like a bad nightmare that wouldn’t go away no matter how high the sun rose. 

What bothered Grian the most were that sea prince’s eyes. They were the same ones Martyn scribbled on his sketchbook, before he’d disappeared. The encounter played in his head over and over. The bellowing thunder, the flashing lightning, the echoing heartbeat–

Grian paused.

…Echoing heartbeat?

Something- some thought or distant memory was tugging on his brain. Grian sat forward, rubbing his forehead in thought. The familiar yet unfamiliar sound of a loud heartbeat drummed in his mind as he wracked his brain. He remembered that he’d heard that sound before, but the part that was bothering him was where. He drew his eyebrows together, holding both sides of his face as he sunk back into his chair.

He remembered hearing that heartbeat when he and Cleo were in the cave.

He remembered faintly hearing it faintly just before Martyn went under with that scuttler.

…He remembered hearing the noise just before Jimmy died.

Tha-thump.

Grian slowly sat up.

…There was no way….

Tha-thump.

…It couldn’t have been his imagination, could it…?

Tha-thump.

So the beast that killed Jimmy was…!

“Grian, I’m sor–!”

Grian laid his head on his desk. The echo of his memory screamed in agony. He tried not to echo it as salt stung his eyes. His throat felt torn.

A sea prince.

A sea prince killed his brother.

Grian cradled the locket he had worn buried in his shirt for so long, the last thing Jimmy ever gave him.

As soon as they caught that sea prince, he’d rip its heart out.

[mageofcolors]

sonic characters playing minecraft headcanons bc i cant sleep:

-tails is a huge redstoner. he builds giant farms for everyone on the server to use and also has a tendency to be responsible for most of the server's lag. in their umiverse tails is the one to invent wireless redstone

-tails also likes building house exteriors while amy builds the interiors. they work on a lot of projects together

-amy also runs a business making interiors because shes known to be the best at it on the server

-amy runs a shop selling mob loot because she loves killing things. she's also a master pvper and everyone fears her so you know no one would dare steal from her. she kills withers on the regular and makes bank off the nether stars

-she's also very skilled at using both the axe and the sword, but not as good at ranged weapons.

-sonic is an explorer and likes mods that allow for gear that makes him faster and increases his step height. mountain biomes are the bane of his existance in vanilla

-sonic used to live in tails' house but he would ruin his item sorter system all the time so he asked sonic to get his own storage. sonic now lives in a hole under tails' house

-sonic's a big potion user. he likes speed potions + water breathing / night vision potions for dealing with water stuff. he's soooo brave about it. he forced himself to take on a water temple because he couldnt stand the idea of there being an enemy he couldnt defeat. being underwater makes him sick tho

-knuckles is a miner and his house is a series of tunnels that blends into his mine. he also likes building things mainly with stone materials. he takes inspiration from irl angel island.

-rouge is a big flyer. shes possibly the best elytra user on the server

-rouge collects all the gems in the game and stacks them in shulker boxes in a vault nobody on the server has found yet. she does randomly flex by taking them out and showing them off. she'll go up to knuckles and just place a shulker box full of diamond blocks in front of him to taunt him, then quickly grab it and fly away.

-rouge doesn't mine so much as she'll trade or steal. she mainly steals from knuckles tho just to mess with him. knuckles always gets confused where his stuff has gone and still hasnt figured out rouge is the one taking it.

-rouge will also trade random missions for gems. these missions will often consist of helping with playing pranks on other members of the server.

-cream runs a flower and dye "shop" where she has super cheap prices, but half the time she will just give people flowers as gifts. everyone returns the favor with much more valuable items to make her happy but it technically doesn't count as selling/buying because cream never asks for anything in return. she does like receiving gifts tho

-big is always on the server, fishing. little do they know big is actually physically in the minecraft world. he doesnt know how he got there but he's vibin

-knuckles is very into minecraft lore. he likes exploring to learn more about the world and he likes finding old ruins. while sonic is also an explorer it's not too often they'll actually team up unless theyre specifically going to fight a difficult enemy. usually they prefer to go solo

-when time came to fight the ender dragon everyone showed up (except cream because she didn't think the dragon is evil and didnt want to kill it). shadow, sonic, and knuckles were all fighting for the final hit on the dragon. shadow got the hit but sonic stole the egg before anyone else could. he's hiding it in the hole under tails' house. rouge has her sights set on that thing and will figure out where it is any moment now. she just has to wait for tails to leave the house so she can search without being seen or heard

-shadow was the first on the server to get the achievement for collecting all the cats

-shadow is also a pretty good builder and he lives in a nice house with his cats. he has the most maxed out armor on the server

-tails has a solo world as well where he runs like 1000 mods that nobody else's computer could handle. i thought this was important to mention

-sonic likes to collect heads. both mob heads and player heads. he has 20 knuckles heads and 13 shadow ones but he could not get a tails one until tails donated one himself to the collection.

[ultrajtb]

Making day 4 a bit later than normal. Sorry guys, I’m a bit sick.

So wrapping up origins today because I’ve run out of characters that I think are necessary to include

So hypno steve

I originally planned on fully overhauling the design, but found it to be really difficult with how complex the skin is, so I opted to give him faint steve detailing on the body, some hair, and brighter colors.

In terms of story, nothing really changes. He’s still an experiment created by dark with the ability to manipulate a person’s mind. Really all I want to do with him is expand slightly on how he was made.

So basically, Dark butchered several steves and stitched bits and pieces of them together to make hypno. He then infused a bit of shadow stone alongside several more steves to give his creation life. Unfortunately for dark, Hypno was fully aware of what he was, and more importantly, who each part of himself was before the experiment.

In the end, dark couldn’t control hypno because every part of Hypno wanted vengeance on him. This ended in dark having to lock him inside a machine for his own safety.

Months after the experiment went wrong, Sabre and blue steve stumble upon the island that dark did everything on, eventually finding a lever that they flip to see what happens, inadvertently turning off the machine and freeing Hypno from his stasis.

Hypno quickly finds the two and starts messing with them, starting out small by making them hear each other in different directions, separating the two. Hypno proceeds to focus on rainbow, having a fascination with him since he too is a combination of steves. He starts probing Rainbow’s mind, searching his memories and dreams. He then projects a twisted image of what rainbow wants to the hero, showing him a world ruled and corrupted by him. A world of nothing but rainbow color. Hypno joins him under the guise of blue Steve, explaining what this world is.

Rainbow is obviously horrified by it, which convinces hypno of his intentions. However, rainbow freaks out and starts trying to attack hypno out of fear, which ends up with him actually attacking blue Steve in reality. Hypno, now sure of Rainbow, leaves for the time being.

Hypno’s story ends when Rainbow is at his lowest. His best friend is dead, nightmare is stronger than ever, and he still doesn’t know how to use his powers. Hypno makes him the offer to put him into a deep, trance-like sleep for generations to allow him to build up power. Rainbow accepts, giving hypno the remaining artifacts. After putting rainbow to sleep, hypno destroys the artifacts, feeling that they had no more use.

From then on, he’d act as a sort of guardian from the shadows; forcing himself to stay alive until Rainbow safely reawoke, at which point he finally let go and allowed himself to move on.

Yes I’m taking hypno out of the actual steve saga. He made a single appearance and honestly it kind of ruined the moment for me when he did.

So finally starting the actual steve saga with the main character himself, Sabre

Now, I actually have 2 redesigns for him

The left one is obviously a proper redesign, keeping the chicken body while making it look a bit more detailed. Fun fact about the chicken skin, Sabre has said before that it isn’t actually a onesie. It’s in fact, his face on a humanoid chicken’s body. I just think that’s funny.

So design 2 on the right is based on his modern skin. I felt like the chicken skin was a bit goofy so I put together a fully human one that I think looks pretty nice.

Shared design traits between the two are reshaded/recolored hair and a blue blindfold

So starter lore. Sabre enters the steve world, discovers the steves, and out of curiosity starts making machines to see how they work. He eventually meets and captures the awakened rainbow, and accidentally breaks him during his experimentation. This makes rainbow more hostile towards him as well as begins a slow decay from the damage, corrupting him more and more over time

That’s all I have for today. Lmk if it’s any good

Have a good day/night guys

[heartfulofstones]

✧ Heart of Stone ✧

✯ ━━━━━━ ✿ ✫ ✿ ━━━━━━ ✯

Thank you for taking the time to check out the blog! Heart of Stone is an Alternate-Canon divergence Ys fanfiction, roughly 3 years after the events of Ys IX: Monstrum Nox, loosely based on the events in the classic game Shadow of the Colossus.

★。＼｜／。★

The Story:

Taking place in 27 AC, Adol and Dogi are on the horizon for another adventure after hearing tales of an unmapped island in the Esteria region, rumored to be housing an ancient god. People who know of the island warn others to never set foot, though, as the few who dared to venture throughout the years have still yet to return.

Naturally, a tale of such piqued the curiosity of the two adventurers.

Purpose of a Blog:

This blog is to serve as a means to have an outlet to talk about it, share any and all updates in regards to new chapters, chapter updates/adjustments, and share any and all art, sketches & doodles involving Heart of Stone.

★。／｜＼。★

Where You Can Read It:

[theridge1979]

[hugsandchaos]

I recently learned about the Rise Of Lyric game, and I instantly came up with this; Instead of fighting against Sonic, Shadow makes his appearance by trying to run away.

So Project Shadow was a bit of an accident. They were trying to create the ultimate life form, but something happened that caused a huge amount of chaos energy to enter Shadow’s body in the early stages on his creation. It flowed through his veins until it was quite literally a part of him. A part he needed, a part that made him powerful enough to need four rings of solid inhibitor stone.

They still didn’t really understand chaos energy, but now they practically had a young god on their hands! I recall Lyric was especially interested in figuring out chaos energy, so hearing about what happened, he immediately wanted to start experimenting on Shadow.

Uhh, something, something, the point is now that Lyric is back, Shadow is terrified and runs away from Bygone Island to get as far away from his as possible. Eventually, Sonic goes to Shadow asking for help because he needs some more power on his side. Shadow refuses to go anywhere near Lyric for some reason. It’s clear from context clues that Shadow is more than capable of defeating him, but something’s stopping him.

In other words, it’s basically that trope where one character is more powerful than the other, but the other character traumatized them badly enough that despite having all of that power, they feel small and helpless with Shadow fearing Lyric after some cruel experiments from long ago.

[diversegaminglists]

Games Finished in 2023

Didn't get as much gaming as I usually do, due to a combination of health issues, my cat having cancer (she's fine now) and my computer breaking in a couple of infuriatingly nebulous ways.

Games I recommend are bolded.

Archvale

Franken RPG

Symphony of War: The Nephilim Saga

Signalis

Bound by Flame

Monster Train

The Last Door Season One

Unforgiving: A Northern Hymn

Dirk Smallwood HD

The Excavation of Hob's Barrow

Flynn: Son of Crimson

Dishonored: Knife of Dunwall

Dishonored: The Brigmore Witches

Sands of Salazaar

Adios

Talk to Me

Dishonored 2

Power Wash Simulator

Power Wash Simulator: Tomb Raider

Power Wash Simulator: Midgar

Pilgrims

Stone

Teacup

Cloud Gardens

Memory Traces: Japan

Khimera: Puzzle Island

Katamari Damacy Reroll

I was a Teenage Exocolonist

100 Hidden Frogs

lure

Lights Off...

Viltnemda

Suspicious Downpour

The Lost Dachshund

Resonance of the Ocean

Swallow the Sea

Shadow Burglar

Kore

Fears to Fathoms: Home Alone

Greedfall

Rapture: The Beginning

Adventure Escape Christmas Killer

Apeture Desk Job

Corridor Z

Hero of the Kingdom: The Lost Tales 2

The Shore

Alder's Blood: Prologue

Mirlo Above the Sun

Stillwater

The Call of Karen

Karisvale

Momotype

Epic Battle Fantasy 5

Aztlan Uncovered: Prologue

Good Dog

Adventure Escape Mysteries: Cluedo

You are a Whale Also Part 1

Adventure Escape Mysteries: Midnight Carnival

I want to be a Triangle

Behind the Frame: The Finest Scenery

The Case of the Golden Idol

The Darkside Detective

Project Exhibited

The Case of the Golden Idol: The Spider of Lanka

The Test

Fayburrrow

Faefever

You Will (Not) Remain

Bad Dream: Stories

Star Apprentice: Magical Murder Mystery

Arcanbreak

Glass Masquerade 3: Honey Lines

Dot's Home

Westwood Shadows: Prologue

The Suicide of Rachel Foster

The Looker

Nancy Drew: Legend of the Crystal Skull

Without a Voice

Escape Academy

One Night Stand

Nancy Drew: The Phantom of Venice

Janosik

Don't Escape Trilogy

Spirit Cleaning

Fatum Betula

Viridi

Sarawak

Baldur's Gate: Siege of Dragonspear

Riddles of the Past

Desolatium: Prologue

Apocalipsis

The Vagrant

Apocalipsis: One Night in the Woods

Hayami Chan

Ginkgo

Alba: A Wildlife Adventure

Memory Traces: Egypt

Wilful

Distraint

Baldur's Gate 3

Zombie Admin

The Lost Night

Inside

Kingdom Hearts 2 Final Mix (PS4)

The Painscreek Killings

Eiyuden Chronicle: Rising

One-Eyed Lee: Prologue

Nasty Little Man

Halo CE: Anniversary

Technoccult: Covenant

To be a Herpwitch

Seethe and Scab

Neverwinter Nights: Enhanced Edition: Main Campaign

Moons of Madness

Dragon's Crown Pro (PS4)

Paradise Killer

Amnesia: Rebirth

Dave the Diver

Zemblanity

Fighting Fantasy Classics: The Warlock of Firetop Mountain

[grrl-beetle]

Stone Island Shadow Project

[bogusfilth]

Spain

Yesterday all the past. The language of size Spreading to China along the trade-routes; the diffusion Of the counting-frame and the cromlech; Yesterday the shadow-reckoning in the sunny climates.

Yesterday the assessment of insurance by cards, The divination of water; yesterday the invention Of cartwheels and clocks, the taming of Horse. Yesterday the bustling world of the navigators.

Yesterday the abolition of fairies and giants, The fortress like a motionless eagle eyeing the valley, The chapel built in the forest; Yesterday the carving of angels and alarming gargoyles.

The trial of heretics along the columns of stone; Yesterday the theological feuds in the taverns And the miraculous cure at the fountain; Yesterday the Sabbath of witches; but to-day the struggle.

Yesterday the installation of dynamos and turbines, The construction of railways in the colonial desert; Yesterday the classic lecture On the origin of Mankind. But to-day the struggle.

Yesterday the belief in the absolute value of Greek, The fall of the curtain upon the death of a hero; Yesterday the prayer to the sunset And the adoration of madmen. But to-day the struggle.

As the poet whispers, startled among the pines, Or where the loose waterfall sings compact, or upright On the crag by the leaning tower: "O my vision. O send me the luck of the sailor."

And the investigator peers through his instruments At the inhuman provinces, the virile bacillus Or enormous Jupiter finished: "But the lives of my friends. I inquire. I inquire."

And the poor in their fireless lodgings, dropping the sheets Of the evening paper: "Our day is our loss, O show us History the operator, the Organiser, Time the refreshing river."

And the nations combine each cry, invoking the life That shapes the individual belly and orders The private nocturnal terror: "Did you not found the city state of the sponge,

"Raise the vast military empires of the shark And the tiger, establish the robin's plucky canton? Intervene. O descend as a dove or A furious papa or a mild engineer, but descend."

And the life, if it answers at all, replies from the heart And the eyes and the lungs, from the shops and the squares of the city: "O no, I am not the mover; Not to-day, not to you. To you, I'm the

"Yes-man, the bar-companion, the easily-duped; I am whatever you do. I am your vow to be Good, your humorous story. I am your business voice. I am your marriage.

"What's your proposal? To build the just city? I will. I agree. Or is it the suicide pact, the romantic Death? Very well, I accept, for I am your choice, your decision. Yes, I am Spain."

Many have heard it on remote peninsulas, On sleepy plains, in the aberrant fisherman's islands Or the corrupt heart of the city, Have heard and migrated like gulls or the seeds of a flower.

They clung like burrs to the long expresses that lurch Through the unjust lands, through the night, through the alpine tunnel; They floated over the oceans; They walked the passes. All presented their lives.

On that arid square, that fragment nipped off from hot Africa, soldered so crudely to inventive Europe; On that tableland scored by rivers, Our thoughts have bodies; the menacing shapes of our fever

Are precise and alive. For the fears which made us respond To the medicine ad. and the brochure of winter cruises Have become invading battalions; And our faces, the institute-face, the chain-store, the ruin

Are projecting their greed as the firing squad and the bomb. Madrid is the heart. Our moments of tenderness blossom As the ambulance and the sandbag; Our hours of friendship into a people's army.

To-morrow, perhaps the future. The research on fatigue And the movements of packers; the gradual exploring of all the Octaves of radiation; To-morrow the enlarging of consciousness by diet and breathing

To-morrow the rediscovery of romantic love, The photographing of ravens; all the fun under Liberty's masterful shadow; To-morrow the hour of the pageant-master and the musician,

The beautiful roar of the chorus under the dome; To-morrow the exchanging of tips on the breeding of terriers, The eager selection of chairmen By the sudden forest of hands. But to-day the struggle.

To-morrow for the young the poets exploding like bombs, The walks by the lake, the weeks of perfect communion; To-morrow the bicycle races Through the suburbs on summer evenings. But to-day the struggle.

To-day the deliberate increase in the chances of death, The conscious acceptance of guilt in the necessary murder; To-day the expending of powers On the flat ephemeral pamphlet and the boring meeting.

To-day the makeshift consolations: the shared cigarette, The cards in the candlelit barn, and the scraping concert, The masculine jokes; to-day the Fumbled and unsatisfactory embrace before hurting.

The stars are dead. The animals will not look. We are left alone with our day, and the time is short, and History to the defeated May say Alas but cannot help nor pardon.

— W.H. Auden, March 1937

[taliaxlatia]

Rating: G

Summary: Xehanort continues to haunt Kairi's dreams. She hopes to find a way to uproot his phantom presence for good.

Wordcount: 2,011

Notes: Written for @kairizine with illustrations by @mellekist! This was super fun, so glad I got to be a part of it!!

XXX

In the Weeds

Sweet scents fill the crisp spring air, wafting up from blossoms of every shape and color. The flowers are separated within geometric plots: tall from short, leafy from bare, vibrant from muted. Blue-gray paving stones wind between each bed, like island chains connecting blooming continents. 

In the center of it all, a fountain gurgles. Shimmering water flows out like spokes of a wheel, giving life to flowers spreading past the horizon.

It’s a beautiful world. It resembles what would’ve been, should’ve been, her world—if not for the silver-haired man kneeling in the plot of flowerless dirt before her. 

“Good evening, Kairi,” he says, even though the sun hangs directly overhead, casting no shadows on the world below. He doesn’t look up from his work—though why he’s bothering to weed a plot of nothing but weeds is anyone’s guess. “I hope that your day was sufficiently pleasant.”

How can it be, when I have to see you at the end of it? she wants to snap, bitter as the violet garlic blossoms in the plot behind her. 

It doesn’t matter what she says, though. Nothing has been able to uproot this shadow of Xehanort from the soil of her dreams.

Tonight, he resembles his complete self—the one who had taken her as a child and sent her adrift. The one who had connected her heart to Sora. It’s his favorite form, from what she can tell, though he seems as helpless to choose between his alternate selves as she is to banish them. 

His purple ascot hangs untied around his neck. His lab coat has been set aside, folded neatly on the ground between the budding plants, leaving him in a collared shirt under a ribbed gray vest. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, but dirt has still managed to stain his cuffs.

If he’s a phantom, he’s a very vivid one. And if he’s not…

“Ah. No words to spare for me tonight? And here I was rather looking forward to your clever barbs.” He plucks a thorned weed from the plot of leafy stalks, twirling the stem between his fingers. 

She doesn’t know why a magical dream garden grows weeds at all, much less why Xehanort bothers to remove them, night after night. If not for his sisyphean effort, she would attribute the thorns to his corrupting influence. Of course, maybe he’s the reason this plot lacks the blooms that color the rest of the garden.

“I’m not here to entertain you, Xehanort,” she sighs.

“I suppose that’s true.” He nods thoughtfully. “I am meant to entertain you, more likely.”

She snorts, plopping down on the curved beam that edges this flower bed. If she has to be awake during her dreams, she can at least stop standing like she expects to be attacked.

Xehanort won’t harm her. He can’t. He’s tried a few times, when he first began invading her dreams. He seemed to believe that destroying her would free him from this dream-prison, but she’d just respawned, more frustrated than ever. 

His idea of “entertainment” is likely just as violent. If she hadn’t sparred so much today, she might’ve picked a fight with him, just to see if her training would show. 

Not that she expects to destroy him, either. No matter which form he’s taken, she hasn’t been able to best him—unless she counts the one time Sora had projected enough of his consciousness to assist her. 

(She doesn’t.)

“Well, if you have nothing to say, then you won’t object to me filling the silence.” He hums, inspecting a narrow, slightly yellowed leaf that looks just like every other narrow, slightly yellowed leaf in this plot. “I have not been able to determine what time of year this place is meant to mirror. Every bed seems to run on its own timeframe. I’ve spotted zinnia and hellebore blooming in plots barely two stepping stones apart.”

“It’s a magic garden.” Kairi yawns. “You don’t expect it to make sense, do you?”

“Not particularly. But that’s why this bed is so fascinating. None of these plants have flowered, despite every other species’ state of perpetual bloom.”

Kairi’s brow furrows as she inspects the plants. A few leafy stems end in tiny bulbs, with the hint of orange petals hiding within. For the most part, though, they just resemble tall grass.

It is strange. Not as strange as hearing Xehanort sound so interested, though.

“I assume you are familiar with these flowers, considering this is your garden,” he continues. “Asclepias tuberosa. More commonly known as butterfly weed. But are you aware of their significance?”

He’s wrong. The garden is as much a mystery to her as it is to him. She hesitates to give him any more power by admitting her ignorance, though. 

“So… they are weeds?” she asks tentatively. 

“‘Weed’ is merely a title given to any plant that grows where it isn’t wanted. It isn’t a very useful classifier, botanically.”

She frowns, leaning forward to pick at one of the leaves. 

“Something that grows where it isn’t wanted, huh? Sounds like you might know something about that.”

“Ah. There’s that wit of yours.” His smile looks entirely too genuine. On anyone else, she’d call the expression warm. “But yes, I do. What about you? You haven’t answered my question.”

She sighs. Unfortunately, she has nothing better to do than humor him. 

“I don’t know anything about butterfly weed,” she admits, deciding that his opinion of her doesn’t matter enough to pretend otherwise. 

“Really?” His eyes go wide with surprise. “I must reevaluate my hypotheses. That is what I get for assuming, I suppose…” He shakes his head. “Butterfly weed. In the code of flowers native to Radiant Garden, it is gifted as a goodbye—particularly to someone from which one desires long-term distance. The literally translated meaning is ‘let me go.’”

“Let me go…” she echoes quietly. 

If only the buds would bloom. This is the only flower she’d want to share with Xehanort.

“How do you know all this?” she asks, caught between suspicion and curiosity. She can’t imagine him studying flowers alongside the experiments that plunged her homeworld into darkness. 

“Ah. Let’s just say my former Master had plenty of chores for me to attend to… and my former companion had plenty of trivia to distract from the menial labor.” He smiles again, reminiscing fondly. “Of course, the meanings he assigned to each flower weren’t always accurate. I recall him trying to convince me that daffodils meant someone was ‘daft and smelled like dill.’”

He snorts softly, and Kairi’s teeth grind together to keep a shocked laugh from escaping. 

How can he sound so normal? This is the man who stole her from her birth family, who used her as a pawn against Sora time and time again. He doesn’t deserve to be here, tending flowers without a care in the world.

“It would be wonderful to see him again…” he murmurs while caressing one of the stems.

“You should’ve thought of that before you tried to destroy the worlds,” she says sharply.

Before you destroyed me. 

She can’t listen to this anymore. She doesn’t care if she’s stuck here all night; she’ll find another section of the garden to hide away in. 

She stands, only to be stopped short by his melancholy voice.

“Yes… I suppose I should have.” He sighs. His hand falls to his side, index finger tracing aimless trails through the dirt. “If I had only been content with what I had… perhaps my life would not have ended alone.”

His form flickers like static, and a black coat replaces his gray vest and pants. The spikes of his hair split and darken a shade. 

Xemnas. The Xehanort who delivered her up to her final fate.

“If that’s your way of apologizing for kidnapping me, it could use some work,” she huffs.

She refuses to flinch away from his more intimidating appearance. He’s still kneeling in the dirt. He still can’t hurt her. Not this time.

“You would accept an apology from me?” he asks, brow furrowed. His voice is at least a half-octave deeper now. 

Jarringly, it reminds her of when Wakka’s voice dropped in junior high. At least the ridiculous mental comparison makes it easier to stand up to Xemnas.

“No. But it wouldn’t hurt.”

He chuckles ruefully, dipping his head. 

“Very well. I am sorry for the pain you have suffered at my hands…” He takes his original form again, and his shoulders relax a little. “Though it is impossible for me to honestly apologize for everything.”

She frowns. She doesn’t believe he’s honest about anything—but if he’s going to lie, why not go all in?

“What do you mean?” 

“Radiant Garden was already doomed, before any of my actions took effect. The Ansem you call ‘Wise’ made sure of that.” He snorts. “But you… you were our hope, Miss Kairi. If not for your bond with Sora, who would have come to pull us from the dark?”

He snaps a closed bud from its stem, holding it out to her like a peace offering.

“I sent you off. And you found a home that you treasured, did you not? The same home that half of me hailed from.” His visage flickers to that of Master Xehanort, but thankfully becomes his younger self again. She can’t look into the Master’s eyes without feeling like she’s choking. “And so the wind blows the next generation of seeds back out to sea…”

She does treasure the Islands. But most of all, she treasures the friends she has there. Her adopted parents. Sephie, Tidus, Wakka. Sora and Riku… 

Sora, trapped in a realm beyond her comprehension. Riku, searching for him alone.

“I just want my friends back.” Her throat tightens. She doesn’t take the offered bud. “If you really cared, you wouldn’t have sent me to them just to take them away.”

“This is true.” Xehanort’s arm drops, letting the snapped stem fall. “I did not care. It is only in death that I can see how shortsighted that was.”

He looks up, and for once, she believes the regret in his brown eyes—a different color from the other Xehanorts. 

(Why? It can’t be Terra’s influence. Terra’s eyes are blue.)

“But there is nothing I can do for them now. I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “You and I are both seeds drifting far from those we called friends.”

“Don’t—don’t compare yourself to me.” She shakes her head, her hands trembling.

He can still hurt her. He doesn’t need keyblades or magic—he just needs to be human. To nurture her sympathies the way he attempts to nurture this garden. 

She hates that she wants to fall for it. She wants to believe the man trapped in her mind isn’t as evil as he appears. Is she really this desperate for someone to understand her?

Xehanort simply nods, returning to his silent plucking of weeds. Red wells from the pads of his fingers where thorns prick them.

It’s what he deserves. To be alone and forgotten. 

(As alone and forgotten as she is.)

…Light, now she’s comparing them. The seed he’s planted has already taken root.

She brushes one butterfly weed bud—and a single petal peels free, facing the sun.

Her breath catches. How…?

Xehanort looks up at the sound, then to the opening orange bloom. His eyes widen.

“How did you…?” he echoes her thoughts.

She nearly says she doesn’t know. But—but she does.

She knows. And she knows how to make him leave.

(Asclepias tuberosa. “Let me go.”)

The flower bloomed when her hate had wavered. The question is, can it waver again? Can she let go of this pain for good?

Not yet. Not yet, but eventually. Hope blooms in her chest, bright as the flower in her hand.

“It’s my garden, remember?” She grips the blossom tight, its stem leaking warm sap against her palm. “I still hold the power here.”

And with that power, she’ll set herself free.