#the bright flashy mask that is just as natural and HIM as what it’s hiding

[turtleblogatlast]

I adore the idea of Leo developing a love for glam rock not only because he likes the music but also because of how many glam rock bands had vibrant and extravagant eye makeup - looks that his own red stripes were right at home with.

Like just imagine a little Leo rifling through his dad’s music and choosing to vibe with glam rock specifically because he was like “:0! Like me!:)”

[odi-myers]

─── 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇-𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐄 ───

request ➜ “ hiii can you please do an erik (poto) x reader where it was during the masquerade and he sees reader after his dramatic entrance as red death and, instead of having that dramatic exit, he asks (more like, commands) her to dance with him and everyone is just watching them? you decide on how it ends omg i am so excited, thank yoou! ”

pairing(s) ➜ 2004! erik destler x f! reader

format ➜ oneshot / drabble?

warnings ➜ formal writing, tried to make it sound refined 💀

a. notes ➜ please this request has me rolling i just ughhhh it’s giving me life!! tysm for this request!! i had a lot of fun writing this, but i apologize for how formal the writing seems.. please tell me if you’d like me to stop that style moving forward! <33 the ending is kind of open-ended… tell me if you want a part two? 👀

the moon was hung high in the sky, surrounded by the faint light of the faraway stars. they burned brightly against the dark backdrop of the stage of night, dancing and twirling much like the dancers did in the make-shift ballroom within the infamous Opera Populaire. 

stunning women, young and old, danced and twirled around in black and off-white ballgowns alike, glittering pieces adorning their lovely figures alongside whatever fabric their dresses were sewn from — no doubt many of them being absolutely expensive in fabric and quality. handsome men both young and old too pranced about the elegant floors, dressed in their finest suits of the most select quality. bodies intertwined gracefully, eyes bright with laughter and intoxicating feelings of adoration at gentle and subtle glances and grazes against partner’s in dance. 

the bright lyrics of the night sang out into the exquisite walls of the Opera Populaire’s halls, further resonating throughout the night as drinks were shared and dancing abundant. pairs danced the night away happily, brightly singing along to the live performing music.

“ masquerade! paper faces on parade!

masquerade! hide your face so the world will never find you! ”

and a stunning figure glided across the floors amongst the sea of patrons, dawned in a lovely off-white dress suitable to the theme of the masquerade party. the dress the beautiful figure dawned was nothing too flashy nor too out of the picture for the occasion — it was simple in a way that was breathtaking, hair done in a way that would leave jaws dropping in its simple radiance, and makeup gorgeously applied to lend itself to the dark-light theme, and their natural mystery and beauty. this figure was you, lovingly dawned in an outfit that was bound to leave many awed in your charming presence. 

you adjusted the masquerade mask that sat on your head to make sure it didn’t slip off, the bridge of your nose having been a bit sore from where the mask had dug into your skin after hours of sitting on your face. the party was everything you had dreamed it would be and more, your eyes still yet to be sore from the contrast of decorations and the spinning of dancers. you yourself had been out on the ballroom floor many a time the night already, your heels beginning to feel the slight burn from how much you spun from dance partner to dance partner, many suitors waiting for their chance to attempt to woo you, yet were sorely turned away at the unconvinced smile that curved on your lips when you said you weren’t interested.

“ masquerade! every face a different shade! 

masquerade! look around-

there’s another mask behind you! ”

you soon found yourself leaning gently against the elegant railing of the grand staircase, if you could even call it a railing. lovely marble, glistening in the reflection of the lovely candle light that burned to give the ballroom an alluring glow. 

at the thought, your mind drifted to the caverns just under the opera house, lit by what you guessed to be thousands upon thousands of small, white candles. the glassy lake stretched on before you in your mind, pulling at your heart. strangely, you found yourself missing the odd comfort of the lair you knew so fondly. 

your relationship with the opera ghost was something unique, if not a bit odd. you wouldn’t say you were particularly close, but close enough to the point where you were able to visit him at least a few times a week and sit near the musical genius as he let his thoughts flow freely. fantastical ideas of musical genius always seemed to flow easier when you were sat beside the mysterious phantom of the opera. sometimes you both would often talk, or simply bask in each other’s presence. and you knew he must trust you at least in the slightest, as he would sometimes gently ask favors of you such as asking you to go onto the streets of france to purchase a book with musical literature or of poetry for inspiration ( with money he provided you with from his salary, of course ). 

if anything, the opera ghost was still as mysterious to you as the day you first met him, accidentally stumbling through a not-fully-closed mirror and curiosity taking you from there. you knew next to nothing of his history, only rumors of the phantom before meeting him and being within his oddly charming presence, you came to realize. 

charming, and alluring. dare you say, attractive, even. 

“ masquerade! grinning yellows, spinning red... ”

your heart leaped with the bouncing and swelling music, standing yourself up straight to resume to the dance floor. your heart still yearned for the feeling of swaying to the music, to spin in the arms of a masked stranger that you wished was another masked man you knew of.

“ masquerade! take your fill-

let the spectacle astound you! ”

and suddenly, a figure clad in red caught your eye, and vibrant gasps soon followed. fearful faces morphed onto the now still women who were once, a few minutes ago, twirling without a care in the world. hardened faces with eyes of fright slipped onto their partners, clutching each other to their chests, arms wrapped protectively around each other. the once joyous atmosphere now turned stale, and tense. 

it was him, the phantom of the opera. standing rather confidently at the top of the elegant marble steps. the stilled air remained tense as he slowly moved his way down, face adorned with a new mask, still white yet bone-like, resembling that of a theatrical skull. dark makeup around the sockets of his eyes and mask made his eyes pop in a way that was cold, and intimidating. the phantom dawned an all strikingly red outfit, a stark contrast to the black and white theme of the masquerade party. and his dark figure was chillingly completed with the addition of a rapier style sword. 

“why so silent, good messieurs?” came his deceptively charming voice, his boots echoing like a pin drop in the eerily silent room as he slowly stepped his way down the grand staircase, his mouth curved up in an equally as deceptive, and handsome, smile. gently cold, his smile was, and oddly charming in the same way. “did you think that i had left you for good?” came his chilling voice again, sending shivers down your spine that you desperately hide behind your wide eyes that screamed your surprise. what was he doing here? why was he here? had he not been trying to hide from everyone in the first place, remain low-profile?

“have you missed me, good messieurs? i have written you an opera.” you, and most likely most everyone else, just then noticed the sheets of music bound tightly together that he held in his hand, lifting it up as he spoke. “here i bring the finished score; don juan triumphant!” he spoke loudly, raising the music he had no doubt expertly written and scored before letting it fall with a heavy thump to the marbled floor, making many in the frightened crowd jump at the noise that cut through the still silence. he had unsheathed his rapier, brandishing it proudly, and frankly, intimidatingly. you held your breath, the glint of the sword reflecting in your eyes. 

“fondest greetings to you all.. a few instructions to you all just before rehearsal starts.” erik’s sharp gaze turned onto an all-too familiar opera diva, and you froze as your phantom gestured at her with his weapon, quickly swallowing the gasp that threatened the deafening silence of the room. “carlotta must be taught to act; not her normal trick of strutting round the stage.” and suddenly his rapier was then pointed to the next actor, carlotta’s husband. “our don juan must loose some weight; it’s not healthy in a man of piangi’s age.” the tip of the rapier just poked against piangi’s rounded front, the man’s eyes widening in fear for what could happen. with that, erik quickly rounded towards the newest owners of the opera house, making several crowd members gasp and stumble back. “and my managers must learn that their place is in the office-” his dark eyes narrowed as he looked between the two men, his once smile, despite being a cold one at that, now faded to a hardened line. “not the arts..”

and suddenly, you found yourself locked into a gaze against erik destler, the opera ghost many so greatly feared. for barely a second you found yourself frozen in time, staring into eyes so deep and so hurt themselves that you weren’t quite sure what else to do other than remain in contact with him for however long he allowed. you found your mind wandering, as did he, as you soon found your worried thoughts replaced;

erik destler looked great in red. 

well, you were quite confident he could pull off anything he wanted to, but he looked exceptional in the vivid red he dawned now, with lovely black and white accents that made you well aware of how handsome he looked, despite the situation. 

and erik stared at you back, locked deep into your alluring gaze. he always knew he loved that unique color of your eyes, but paired with the gentle lighting of the ballroom and with the grace of your ballgown, he was confident in saying he was completely and entirely enamored with you. the dress hugged your figure stunningly, your hair pinned back in a fashion that framed your visage perfectly, and somehow enhanced the loveliness of your flushed cheeks from a full night of dancing, smile lines faintly visible. looking at you was like looking at a work of art, he was quite sure.

and yet, despite coming off as the intimidating, cold phantom of the opera, his chilled heart pounded rhythmically in his chest. erik was undoubtedly floored, his mouth slightly perked open in breath. 

breath-taking was the only word that came to his mind. 

and suddenly, erik stood barley inches away from you, having made his way all the way down the staircase, chest gently heaving as though he were trying to catch his breath. his weapon had since been sheathed, hastily, now standing before you. almost hesitantly, his hand reached up, a near vulnerable gesture for someone such as him, being in public’s eye. “dance with me..” he commanded quietly, voice much softer compared to the broad tone he had on when speaking before. this was an offer meant for you and you alone, you realized, with wide, hopeful eyes. 

with eyes glued to the back of your heads, a pretty smile couldn’t help but wind it’s way onto your lips as you slipped your hand into his awaiting, gloved palm. 

“as you wish.” you murmured softly, eyes dancing to meet his as the smallest of smiles broke out onto his own face, so fast retreating that you would later contemplate if he ever actually smiled.

erik’s free hand found your waist, his chest unnoticeably beginning to swell as warmth pooled into his core as he pulled you flush against him. his mouth opened to say something, hesitating vulnerably, before the ‘peace’ was ruined by one raoul de chagny barging back into the ballroom, brandishing his own rapier after having snuck off to grab the weapon. 

this was not the night you imagined.

@ odi-myers.tumblr. all works reserved. please refrain from stealing, plagiarizing, reposting, or claiming any works created on and by this blog as your own.

[deitiesofduat]

When the deities turn into animals, since for example, if Horus turns into a Falcon and has the eye of Horus, would he be more recognizable as Horus? Or would people just think he’s a Falcon flying by?

My initial answer would lean towards the latter, based on what I shared in the world-building notes for Animal forms:

Deities in their animal forms often display unusual colors, markings, and eyes, and they often wear additional accessories or jewelry. While this can differentiate deities from mortal animals and demons, deities can also hide or adjust these features to avoid being easily noticed by mortals.

That said, I think it may also depend on whether the deity wants to be noticed or perceived as “divine.” To expand on this using the example with Horus — like all deities, he has access to different forms. Usually when gods want to walk among mortals unnoticed, they will use their Mortal form to do so and hide their unusual or divine traits (for Horus, it’s turning his hair fully black and masking his other divine glamors).

The same can be done with using Animal forms to go unnoticed — or at least, to go without being perceived as an actual god. But that doesn’t mean their presence won’t turn heads or remind mortals of the gods they are associated with, either. [...]

In Horus’s case and with his falcon form, most mortals who see him would have an odd feeling due to his divine aura, but most wouldn’t think much past that. They might think “Oh my, a falcon out here? Is that one of Lord Horus’s messengers, or a sign of his blessings?” due to the strong associations. But unless Horus purposely gives them a reason to think it’s him in the feathery-flesh, they may not realize that the falcon flying overhead is the very god they’re invoking (to Horus’s amusement, I’m sure).

Also, I’ve played with the Idea of some divine traits not being sensed by mortals normally. So while Horus’s Eye is present on his falcon form, mortals might not notice it unless Horus used magic to make it visible, etc. Plus I’m sure he’d blow his cover the moment he reveals himself as a falcon capable of human speech, much like when Montu did similarly in this comic lmao—

Overall, I just find it entertaining that a deity’s animal forms might visually stick out more than others of their species -- not unlike the trope “Flashy Protagonists, Bland Extras” where the major characters have bright hair colors and designs (and that’s not a dig at the trope, I clearly use this in DEITIES too lmao).

But canonly, deities who are in their animal form usually have no intention of being recognized as divine by mortals. If they really want the recognition as a god, they have plenty of ways to reveal their divine nature and make themselves known -- animal form or not.

[starry-skies-116]

Neurodivergent/Synesthesiac Michael Headcanonssss!!:

Similar to Kitsune Yokai/foxes, Michael has trouble repeating words or uttering incantations, and can only learn by practicing/mimicking them repeatedly (which means he can’t really rap). This becomes a tad funny/ironic when he hears ‘hello hello’ on the phone during FNAF 1, which is similar to how Japanese people say ‘moshi moshi’ to make sure a Kitsune is not on the other end of the line. Couple that with how Michael wore a Foxy mask frequently and has a slight weakness for fried tofu takeout and bam, you have a very funny joke that makes way more sense in my head.

In the Mutant!AU, physical sensations and symptoms of Synesthesia are amplified in hearing, sight and taste whenever he uses energy manipulation since it affects him on many levels. 

Certain names, words and songs, like your ‘average’ synesthesiac, affects Michael in a certain way as it makes him see certain colors and leaves certain tastes in his mouth.

Angst material: He pretends to like the same genre songs that other teens are ‘supposed to like’ when actually those hurt his ears and give him sensory overload. In actuality he hates crowds and concerts, and tries to hide his agoraphobia, and by extension, his Synesthesia. Certain situations are just too much for him, despite his subconscious ability to mask.

Isn’t educated on his condition at all- naturally assumed as a child that other people could have words make them feel a certain way, or that people were hypersensitive to their senses, only to be in a little bit of shock when he finds out that the case is actually otherwise.

Associates the voices of his siblings with certain colors and tastes- for Evan, usually his voice is pleasant, silvery, calming and soft-spoken when he isn’t crying or angry, so Michael assigns to him a gentle palette- the colors of duskfall or twilight, and the taste of Evan’s name as he speaks it gives off a very faint taste of sweet, almost nectarous water akin to honey-sweetened and warm green tea. For Elizabeth he assigns bright pink, green and yellow neon colours, as well as for her name, the taste of something cloyingly sweet and ‘popping’, like ice cream with pop rocks. However, Michael associates Evan with bright, flashy and blinding blue, orange and red neon palettes whenever the latter is extremely emotional or passionate.

Of course, Michael associates his father William with shades of grey and purple, and the taste of his name with the ever-so-faint taste of blood. Should’ve seen that one coming, eh?

Learns that Evan is hypersensitive to touch but also LOVES touch when done properly and? Isn’t really surprised at all? Like he just goes “oh you’re like me but with touch” with slightly wide eyes and an eventual smile. Suddenly Evan ‘feeling the air temperature drop’ when it’s about to rain makes a whole lot more sense (we stan neurodivergent Afton kids~).

Associates Jeremy Fitzgerald’s voice with pleasant colors of early morning, and associates his name with fresh and sweet whipped cream with a hint of sweet cinnamon, the kind that he loves. (ur mega gae Mikol-)

He’s musically gifted and is INCREDIBLE at singing, dancing and composing as well as what can be considered ‘the fine arts’.  Considers his Synesthesia to be a fundamental part of him despite also being a condition that he struggles with, and without it, he might’ve been an incredibly different person with different aspirations, desires and talents.

[cayenne-twilight]

Professor Layton Iceberg Explanation

As I said in the tags of the original, the iceberg I made was a meme consisting of both real theories and satire/parodies/fandom memes. If anyone is interested, I can work on an unironic version that only has real theories.

Buckle in because this post is LONG and heavily saturated with lore and information.

Actual theories

Parallel universe 1960s where the world wars didn’t happen. There’s an unused file in Curious Village that shows the year as 1960 and the time machine from UF is set to 1973, ten years into the future. The series canonically takes place in an undefined time period (hence the technological inaccuracies and fantasy elements), but it’s based off the 60s. There’s more evidence but we don’t have time to go over every little thing. I linked my “no wars” theory below but TL;DR the outdated airplanes and underdeveloped medicine in the Layton series imply that the world wars may never have happened. https://cayenne-twilight.tumblr.com/post/632205992162099200/outofcontextdiscord-timegearremix-zonosils-war

The real meaning behind the statue in Future London. In UF, the purpose of the statue is to spark Layton and Luke’s conversation about their friendship. Luke is stressing out about moving overseas and sees himself and the professor in the story behind the statue, but in the bigger picture, Clive must have been the one to commission it. Some theorize that the little boy is Clive and the man is either his father or the professor. One idea I’ve seen is that Clive wishes he could be Luke for real, while another is that he wishes he died ten years ago, and another is that he’s literally terminally ill explaining why he doesn’t care about consequence. Personally, I think “the boy succumbed to his illness” refers to his mental illness seeing as he wanted the professor to save him from his madness as he saved him all those years ago.

True location of Monte D’Or. there are no deserts on the British isles to my knowledge, so it makes the most sense for Monte D’Or to be in Southwest USA where English is the default language, they have a desert, and there exists a city famous for flashy hotels, casinos, and entertainment. What makes it odd is that nobody ever mentions overseas travel, and all the major characters are from England.

Loosha’s origins are not explicitly explained if I remember correctly, but the implication was that her prehistoric (supposedly) species was sealed away along with the garden, allowing them to survive all the way to the time of LS until Loosha was the only one left. The garden provided a good habitat and protection from predators, and it’s logical that they’d slowly die out anyways, but there’s no explanation of any specific factors that led to Loosha being the last.

Beasley is not a bee I wrote a post about this one as well, but TL;DR Beasly lacks several defining bee traits whilst having several human ones. He is not human, yet, by definition, not a bee. It’s possible that he is the result of Dimitri’s testing, but whatever his untold story is, he remains an enigma of nature. https://cayenne-twilight.tumblr.com/post/632381715250282496/theory-beasly-isnt-a-bee

Subject 2’s identity is currently unknown. There is a subject one (parrot) and subject 3 (rabbit) so there has to be a second. For a long time, people suspected Beasly to be him seeing as he’s a bit of an amalgamation and definitely not a regular bee (see above). After the release of LMJ, though, people began to suspect Sherl, the intelligent hound who could speak to certain people but not others. That being said, it’s possible for one to be subject 4. Sherl’s memory of a bright flash matches up with subject 3’s memory of being electrocuted. They never explain why the animals were being experimented on, but it was probably Dimitri making sure the conditions of his machine were safe for humans before reliving the incident from ten years ago.

Lady Violet died from the plague from DB. There’s no evidence for this or anything, it’s just an idea. People say she died from the flu but I don’t remember them saying that in the game, at least the US version. Extending off my “no war” theory: it’s theorized that the Spanish Flu was spread by the travlelling soldiers, so if that’s true, it’s possible for the epidemic to have been averted for some decades. Maybe the Spanish Flu reached England later than in real life. The hole in this is that DB’s plague must’ve been close in time to 1918 while Violet’s death was much later, so it would’ve had to stick around.

Bill Hawks is working with Targent and Arthur Cantabella. There was a force in the shadows buying the time machine technology from Bill. Someone with a ton of money who helped him cover up a freak accident and get away with it completely, a feat that involved shady means like violence by hired thugs. Some theorize that it was Targent, seeking power over time in exchange for a little mafia magic. The Labarynthia project was sponsored by the UK government, so as the PM, Bill must’ve known about it. He probably supported dubiously ethical, high stakes (witch pun) psychological experiments like Cantabella’s and helped him stay in the shadows.

All the NPCs in St. Mystere and Folsense are dead. I make fun of this type of theory later, but they’re admittedly captivating. I’m pretty sure the canon in CV is that the villagers are Bruno and Augustus’s OCs that they made robots of and built a town around, but it’s more interesting to think that the village was there before, and the townspeople died of a plague and were replaced like Lady Violet. In Folsense, there really was a plague and they never explain the NPCs there. They’re either real people who appear way younger than they are due to hallucinations (even the ones who already look old ?), or they don’t exist at all, which is pretty spooky. This part of the story is a gaping plot hole. In a similar vein to CV, the edgy yet plausible theory is that they used to live in Folsense but died of the plague and now live on as hallucinations.

Hershel seeing everything as a puzzle is a coping mechanism for all his trauma. This was a joke but I thought about it for more than five seconds and it makes way too much sense.

Plot holes and unexplained questions that we like to overthink because it’s fun

The downfall of the Azran was vaguely explained in canon by people being so greedy that it lead to the civilization collapsing. It’s not a stretch to imagine that happening, but it would’ve been more interesting with a little more detail.

Layton and Luke are programmed to routinely forget how to walk. I didn’t know whether to list this in the joke section or not, but it’s odd that the characters actively participate in the walking tutorial (as opposed to showing a little memo to the player) as if they didn’t know how to before, especially when they go through this several times a year.

The truth behind Pavel. He’s simply a joke character who teleports, is a polyglot (sort of, at least he wants us to think he is) and is mega confused all the time. He’s a fun character to make crack theories about because of his cryptic nature that even he doesn’t seem to understand.

Miracle Mask deleted scenes. The first trailer for MM featured animations that were not in the final game. One was the Randall falling scene, except in a slightly different style than the one we know. Others were completely foreign, like Layton and Luke pacing across a theatre stage as if Layton’s about to expose someone with a dramatic point. Cut content and “could’ve beens” are always curious to think about.

Evan Barde: secret mastermind. Arianna and Tony’s dad is a mysterious character who died under mysterious circumstances. I think the canon is that his death was a genuine accident, but concept art of him making a creepy evil face suggests that maybe he originally had a larger role in the first drafts of LS than the finished game.

The secret to how Paul and Des pull off their disguises is unclear and will remain unclear. There is no plausible explanation for their shape shifting. Unless Paul is just a little dude wearing a human suit like that one Wizard of Oz species and Des is the best quick-changer ever and hides his naturally feminine legs under his cloak.

Alfendi’s mom. When LBMR came out people scrambled to piece together who Hershel had a kid with, but there’s no way alfendi is his biological son. This happened with Kat as well and her biological parents turned out to be brand new characters, so I’m sure Al will get an adoption backstory if his arc continues, be his parents old major characters or nameless, faceless NPCs.

Granny Riddleton and Stachenscarfen are omnipotent deities. Idk which section this fits best under, but these two characters have some serious power. At first introduction, they’re implied to be robots, but they appear everywhere in later games. They follow the Professor wherever he goes and assist him on his adventures, GR collecting puzzles and housing them by some odd magic, and Stachen teaches you how to walk. They both introduce and supervise the gameplay. By extension, I guess this idea could apply to Albus as well in the prequels. GR and Stachen even had the power to appear in LMJ, something no major character could do. I consider them akin to the velvet room attendants from the Persona games.

Clive’s kill count is a vague subject in the game for the sake of keeping it PG. I don’t know if anyone’s ever mathematically estimated the damage he caused, and I sure don’t want to try, but the game appears to push the idea that he didn’t kill anyone at all, saying they stopped him in the nick of time and things like that, even though we watch him raze the city. If they ever want to bring him back post-time skip, I can see them twisting it so that the mobile fortress cutscene wasn’t a linear sequence of events, but instead a compilation of scenes over the course of hours so that London neighborhoods around him could be evacuated and have it make sense. Knowing Level-5, it’s more likely that they wouldn’t think this deep and do something more lazy, though.

Memes and references

Post-time skip Flora is real references the famous L is real theory from Super Mario 64. Like Luigi in SM64, Flora was also a highly anticipated character who didn’t appear in a new game, in this case LMJ or LMDA. In the end, Luigi did become real in the DS port so hopefully Flora is real will be realized as well.

Hershel can’t read is a veteran fandom meme referring to how in the first few games, especially Curious Village, Layton asks Luke to read every document out loud for him. Perhaps this was an exercise to improve Luke’s reading skills and independent thinking, or perhaps he was just too lazy or preoccupied to do it himself, but this grew into the joke that our genius Professor was actually illiterate this whole time.

Layton’s smash invitation is hidden in PLvsAA. It’s no secret that the fandom would kill a man to get the Professor into the smash brothers franchise. In PLvsAA one of the puzzle artworks features a goat eating a familiar white envelope with a red stamp, sparking the joke that either Layton or Wright got the invitation their respective fans desired, but it got lost along the way.

The science board is the mysteriously vague organization Don Paolo got kicked out of for the crime of being evil. It’s the epitome of liberal arts majors and art school graduates trying to bs their way around not knowing any science and failing miserably. “He was very good at all the sciences, but then the CEO of science told him to stop because he was using the power of science for evil science”. They do this again when “Dr. Stahngun” describes his time machine what with the soolha coils and whatnot.

Hoogland is death cult initiation is a parody of “Mario 64 is Freemason initiation” which is ridiculous, just like the creepy human sacrifice subplot of AL.

You can see the reflection of someone watching you in Aurora’s eye references the famous, creepy Talking Angela theory. In retrospect it would’ve been funnier if I said Angela instead of Aurora.

Every copy of Professor Layton is personalized references the famous “every copy of Super Mario 64 is personalized”

Clive’s fat ass in HD is a meme that originated from the announcement of UFHD, saying that half of the excited fans wanted to cry again while the other half were simply attracted to Clive. If we want to enter real bottom-section-of-the-iceberg-chart territory then let’s say Clive’s character has some sort of psychological siren properties that draw people to him like a magnet and/or Harry Styles.

Things I pulled out of my ass for shits and giggles

Infinite hint coin hack: I’m sure a tech savvy cheater could hack the game for infinite hint coins, but there’s no easy or interesting way. I don’t know why someone would do that though, considering a lot of the hints suck and there are puzzle guides on the internet.

Cringy, unused Randall villain monologue. This joke is derived from the actual scrapped MM content as well as deleted content being a popular element of iceberg charts, but it’s sadly not real. Would’ve been hilarious, though.

Last Specter Puzzle 031: Light Height tracks and records children’s intelligence level. It doesn’t, but it’s always fun to make fun of arguably THE most ridiculously difficult puzzle in the franchise. (Seriously, do they expect 7+ year olds to know trigonometry???)

Hershel struggles with tea addiction. Hershel from the games drinks tea in moderation, but the manga begs to differ. He has a tea set in the Laytonmobile, and an attempt at teatime while driving causes him to crash.

Folsense is a metaphor for Alzheimer’s. This is inspired by those edgy kids’ show theories where everyone’s in hell or something, but nobody has ever said this.

London Life is reality and the plot of the games is all in Luke’s head. That’s one way to fill every plot hole. How funny would it be if Luke made up crazy characters and stories based off his fellow townspeople Sharkboy and Lavagirl style. “This dude who lives in a castle and asks people to give him all their money for nothing in return is a vampire from 50 years ago involved in a tragic love story”.

Secret ending encoded into Tago’s Head Gymnastics. It’d be crazy if there was, and Dimitri would hound Tago for the secret to time travel. If you didn’t know, the Layton games started as an adaption of Akira Tago’s puzzle series, except they decided to add a story to make it more interesting and marketable.

Daily puzzles datamine your DS. I’m bad with technology but is it even possible to datamine a DS??? Idk, but I think my DS lite from 2008 is safe.

[wannaholdhandswithfictionalmen]

(My) Sanctuary;

A/n: First Ever Fic for Genshin Impact Fandom. A fic no one asked for but the idea was living in my head rent free, so what's a girl to do except play more Genshin Impact and work on this fic. (Listened to Sanctuary & Don't think twice by Hikaru Utada while writing this -- hence my inspired and very unoriginal title for this fic because I am horrible at thinking of titles.) 

Genre: Mostly Fluff really, a pinch or two of Angst.

Warning: Implied underage drinking. Brief description of Violence. Of age drinking. 

Summary: Childhood friends with history. Unspoken feelings. Mutual pining. Circumstances and life have forced you and Diluc on different paths, but you always return to Mondstadt and Diluc always makes time for you.

Word count: 3,128

The busy streets of Mondstadt. How long had it been this time? The absence of your presence from these cobblestone paths; four, five? No. Six months. Commissions to fight greater, fierce foes across Teyvat demanded your blades and lightning. Not that it mattered much how far or long you ventured from your former home. There was only one person who meant a great deal, important even if you could not sort through all the emotions attached to him in your own heart or even dare to give voice to those emotions.

Diluc Ragnvindr. 

And despite the inner twisted, festering turmoil (of your own making) cradled in your heart for Mondstadt, Favonius Knights, The Fatui 'diplomats'. Diluc was always a reason to return. 

In fact you aren't at all surprised when you stop by Good Hunter, offering up a handful of Mora for a meal. Sitting down at a table, closing your eyes. You took in a deep breath, the air here felt different to you. Thanks to the Anemo god, Barbatos. You swear it truly is the sense, embodiment of freedom that fills your lungs and soothes you even if for a few seconds. 

A savory blend of mushrooms, chicken and noodles is your lunch for the day. After thirty minutes have passed since your arrival in Mondstadt. And Diluc is sliding into the chair across from your own, elbows on the table, arms folded. Crimson eyes silently taking in the features of you. 

"Hm. You're slacking. That's ten minutes later than before, what took your little informants so long to whisper in your ear word of me being back?" You don't even spare a look at him, taking another bite, chewing a mouthful as you wait for his reply. 

"I do have a winery to run and the protection of Mondstadt to ensure, I can't not always come rushing away for personal affairs." Diluc holds a evident edge of underlying frustration in his smooth voice. 

Your own gaze trails up and over him, taking in the exasperation and exhaustion that furrows the brow of his otherwise stoic expression-- you want to ask when he last got a full night's rest? If he was still doing his lone warrior, Darknight Hero routine? If he was as stubborn as ever shouldering the burden of his fervor desire to defend and protect. Oh, how you worry, worry and worry the weight of it all on your tongue, tightening your throat-- who takes care of you? Who stands by your side? Who defends you? Who protects you? Who lov-

Once upon a time it had been you but a vortex of mourning, sorrow, rage swallowed up your old life. Until you wanted nothing more than to never see the walls of Mondstadt ever again. One day leaving it all behind. Time was a cruel mistress, one day swiftly grew to years. The first time you returned from what would become regular disappearances--adventures. 

Damage had been done. Diluc was the one who reached out to savage your friendship and you had welcomed the chance to have him back in your life even if it would never be anything more. 

"Should I be honored that the gentleman Ragnvindr can even grace me with his company?" It's a hollow jest as you pick at your half eaten plate of food. 

"No," His dismissal of the notion is soft yet firm. "Just Diluc, a friend, who is glad to see you well again." It's never his straight-forward or blunt nature that catches you off guard, it's when the subtle but clear sincerity creeps to the surface. Open, unwavering in his honesty.  

You huff, looking down feigning disinterest yet the twitch of your lips is undeniable. Warmth, simple, gentle curls in your chest. Happiness. Flickering embers outside of the stone walls of your heart that would make Rex Lapis proud. Diluc had always been able to slip past your defenses, so easily lingering in your thoughts, in your heart. Whether he was aware of it or not. 

"I suppose I am glad to see you too. Saved me a few bottles of my favorite wine?" You ask glancing up to catch his watchful gaze, biting your bottom lip as a wide smile threatened to spread on your face. Dulic's sudden raised eyebrow says it all-- do you really need to ask? 

"Four pristine bottles of aged mixed sunsettia, valberry wine." Prideful is subtle and delicate in his voice as if Diluc would ever forget your favorite wine. Funny enough to think about how even as the unspoken king of the winery industry, he doesn't enjoy alcohol himself. Still keeping a stock of your favorite in his manor. 

"You never let me pay you and we can't really share a few glasses together, so," you hum, slowly wired up with nervous yet excited anticipation as you reach down into the bag hanging off your shoulder. Shifting through the items and materials you carried with you for cooking and crafting you find it! Grabbing a slender jug of a bottle, wrapped in cloth. Swiftly placed on the table in front of Diluc. "I brought something for you." 

It's not like grape juice is such a hard find or something Diluc could not afford himself with his abundance of wealth but you had commissioned a famous brewer to make a special blend of grapes and other berries to create a rich and sweet juice. With your own Mora to spare after a few jobs, and you had a feeling your wandering would lead back to Mondstadt. 

Diluc is steady, slow with peeling back the cloth to stare at the deep, dark purple liquid filling the glass bottle. Uncorking the bottle, Diluc takes a whiff, closing his eyes, the smile that graces his face. It's everything and so much more. "It smells delicious. Thank you, I can't wait to taste it." 

"Then we should begin our walk to the manor? I can hear my wine calling me." You leave a few Mora coins as a tip, standing up, Diluc presses the cork back into the bottle and hands it back to you for safe keeping. 

"Alright," Diluc nods, following, matching your stride with ease. "Adelinde was asking about you the other day, you know she always makes sure your room is tidy, spotless in fact." 

Stupid. How one little phrase has your stomach full of crystal flies like you are a teenager all over again. And the mention of the kind maid who still fusses over Diluc and you on occasion makes you happy. It is a nice reprieve from nights of solitude, you are content to travel alone but loneliness is a creature that waits, and waits until the right moment to sink its claws and fangs into you on the road. 

The walk from Mondstadt isn't far but you aren't expecting a fully pleasant and peaceful walk with Diluc. Outside of the gates of the city and a few minutes down the dirt road, the sight of Hilichurls is predictable. 

Small pack of fighters, five Hilichurls carrying clubs and one hulking Mitachurl with a shield. This should be fun. 

"Make sure to show me how playing the part of the nighttime hero has kept your skills sharp!" You yell with a laugh, grinning as you summon your sword, forged of dragon bone, jagged, fierce blade. Rushing forward you dodge past the throw Pyro slimes. 

You let yourself run a little wild, your Electro vision surge through you, bolts of lightning crash down on the charging Hilichurls. Shocking and stunning the monsters for a moment, that's all you need to unleash a flurry of fast slashes.

A loud, enraged howl, crashing stomps approach from your back. Anyone else would need to worry or doubt--you don't. The familiar roar and rumble of flames fills the air, the scorning heat of it nipping behind you. Diluc doesn't even let that Mitcahurl so much as graze you, his grunts and shouts clash with its growl and howls as his flame imbued blade breaks and burns through the beast's wooden shield. Leaving ashes flying in the air and the heavy smell of smoke and fire. 

You electrify the Hilichurls, slowing, paralyzing the small beasts until they are left vulnerable and weak against you. The perfect targets. You cleave one's head off, stab straight through the mask of another, impale the chest of another. Delivering killing blows with precision and force. Wiping them out, you turn in time to see the beauty of Diluc. 

Rapid, graceful, relentless, ferocity embraced in unyielding flames. The towering giant Hilichurl is left staggering, stumbling under the strikes of Diluc's claymore left all too unprotected without its shield to hide behind. Diluc turns up the heat quite literally, the soaring, blazing phoenix that emerged from his own vision and will, his flames destroy the Mitcahurl, wiping out its pitiful existence effortlessly. 

Diluc shakes a bit of lingering flames and smoke off the steel of his blade with a sweeping slash at the air, standing among darkened, black grass, a gust of wind sways his hair and he looks over his shoulder. It is surely a moment deserving of immortalizing in portrait, his bright red hair blowing in the wind, holding his greatsword in one hand, sunlight giving him an ethereal glow, gazing at you. 

Giving a slow applause, you whistle and laugh. "Flashy as ever, Diluc." 

"The pyro element leaves little room for anything else. Still it's efficient and powerful," Diluc turns to face you, letting go of the hilt of his sword as it vanishes, unneeded outside of battle. "However, it's not something you could critique me on, when anyone for miles could see your lightning." 

"Fair enough." 

Besides a few stray slimes, the rest of your walk is undisturbed, reaching the winery as nightfall, the sun dipping below the horizon. 

"(Name) it is good to see you well." Adelinde smiles upon seeing you as Diluc opens the front door and holds it open for you to walk in first. She hugs you, it's hard not to melt into her tight cradle. 

"Have you been eating well? Sleeping accordingly? Not just naps. Taking breaks in between all your monster hunting?" Her lovingly stern questions always feel comforting in a way that is odd to describe and felt deeply. 

"I am still standing, Adelinde, fully rested and my stomach is full at the moment." 

"You would do well to keep it as such." Adelinde levels you with a motherly look of if you do not take care of yourself, I will which should be hard to make look threatening but the older woman handles it with years of expertise. She has worried over guests, Diluc, Kaeya, you for many, many years in the pact and many to come you are certain. 

"Adelinde, please have the bottles of sunsettia, valberry wine brought up, we-" 

"One step ahead of you, Master Diluc. Hillie and Moco brought them up a short while ago, I hope you two enjoy your time together." Adelinde leaves the manor, you aren't sure what work needs to be done on the grounds, you know for a fact Adeline specifically tries to do outside chores during daylight hours. It's an obvious tell for someone who knows her, she is ensuring you and Diluc remain alone for now. An avid supporter of your friendship you suppose. 

Diluc barely gets to call out a 'thank you!' as she is shutting the door. 

You stroll across the room, not much has changed at all. Your destination is the furniture set by the fireplace, the small, round table paired with two cushioned chairs. Pulling out the bottle of juice to place on the table top next to the bottles of wine, to cups awaiting you both. 

Pouring your first cup, you are eager, excited to taste the almost sickeningly sweet flavor of the wine. It never seems to taste the same from any other winery or brewery or even in the company of others. 

Moments of comfortable quiet drift by as you slowly, steadily sip and savory the wine. 

When Diluc takes the first taste of your gift and his low moan of approval as he swallows. Oh. You could listen to that again and again. All husky, raspy delight that sends shivers down your spine. It feels good to bring any kind of bliss to Diluc, even the simplest kind by providing him a drink he loves. 

You get the mutual feeling of being watched as you drink, sighing and smiling at the taste, the feeling of nostalgia creeps up on you. 

"I remember the first time I tasted this wine. We were barely teenagers sneaking down into the cellar. I badly wanted to try the wine everyone in Mondstadt wouldn't shut up about," you recall it interrupting yourself with short, full breaths of levity. Far too amused by the memory to contain your laughter. "I- I asked. No- begged you to come down with me while your father was gone, saying I'd bring Kaeya instead if you didn't come, bluffing and you got as red as a flaming flower, grabbed my hand and pulled me all the way to the cellar and downstairs." 

Diluc huffs, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. "You knew how to push my buttons too well, half of the stuff I let you talk me into was completely foolish." Staring into the lit fire as he listened to you. 

"Just half?"

"Fine. All of the escapades I let you drag me along on were absurd." 

"Your welcome as I recall you had a lot of fun." 

"At the risk of a lot of trouble, you tested the lengths of even my father's generous patience." Diluc shook his head, the fondness in expression was plain as day. 

"Oh, remember the night after getting my gliding license, I dared you to join me on top of the cathedral to see which of us could get farther across the city, and you landed in a bush!" Several glasses of wine, one empty bottle of the tart and sweet berry alcohol and you felt even more relaxed, comfortable in the company of Diluc. 

"I, at the very least, remained dry. You were the one who crash-landed right into the fountain." Diluc smirked, sharp, sly as he chuckled, lightly tugging and adjusting the fabric of his gloves. Idle gestures as his cup stays on the table after a few sips. 

"I would rate my dive undoubtedly ten out of ten." By the Archons, it had been a miracle you both escaped from the knights of Favonius night patrol with the commotion you made, wet leather boots on stone top made you slip a few times in your dash to escape discovery. Diluc had kept a firm grip on your arm, tugging you back up and refusing to leave you behind. 

Then you remember, hiding away, pressed chest to chest, the chill of your soaked clothes clinging to you, the rise and fall of heavy, labored breaths. How close Diluc had been, that smokey, fiery scent that having pyro vision gifted him along with faint aroma of fruit thanks to the orchard of the dawn winery, he worked with his father on occasion. If you had just tilted your head up, leaned in--

"I know Kaeya was always jealous. I could talk you into anything but you refused his antics left and right." 

"It's different. I actually like you and spending time with you." Diluc's deadpan response pulls a ugly snort-laugh from you. His relationship with Kaeya is an odd one but you know deep down he cares for his brother even if things aren't exactly civil between them. 

"I feel so special." 

"As you should, I don't like people." His sarcasm, that is half-joke, half-truth keeps you laughing. 

The first wave of tiredness hits you, letting out an involuntary yawn. Your travels, the trek and fight from earlier catch up with you. Combined with the consumption of alcohol. 

"I think the wine is getting to me, I feel a little sleepy." You finish off your glass with one gulp, smooth like silk down your throat, the lack of burn makes it far too easy to want to empty all the bottles. Four. You'd certainly regret that in the morning. 

"I noticed." Diluc gets up first, three steps towards you, he is holding out his hand to you. 

"I can walk myself, I am not that drunk." You protest his offer while reaching out and taking his hand, entwining your fingers without a second thought. Diluc gives your hand a squeeze, his slender fingers lightly caressing the back of your hand. He guides you upstairs to your room as if you don't know the way by heart as if your room would ever change. 

"You would never ask for help yourself and you did break a vase the last time, even the smallest bit of intoxication seems to make you clumsier." Diluc gives his clear and absolutely unfair opinion. It happened one time!

It is really not necessary either to open the door for you, letting go of your hand only to press the large, warm palm of his hand against your back. Nor does Diluc need to kneel before you as you sit on the edge of the bed, unfastening your boots, removing your satchel and placing your belongings on the bedside table. 

"It is hilarious to hear you of all people, calling me out of not asking for help. Mister Darknight." 

Dliuc 'tsks' at the mention of his beloved hero name. "I am aware, that can be a little hypocritical." 

"A little?" 

"(Name)," Diluc speaks your name so tenderly, softly, as if the word itself is precious. "I simply want to help you, to car-" He clears his throat cutting off that train of thought. Pausing for seconds of silence pass, crimson eyes staring into your own. "If there was anyone I would accept help from it would be you." 

That is dangerously close to an admission of something else. And all every moment of the past, all the maybe(s), what-ifs, almost(s) flash through your mind. You could take the leap or let this become another memory to turn over and over in your head, wondering, wanting, yearning. 

"Get some rest." Diluc walks over to the door, standing in the open threshold of the room, hand gripping the door knob. 

"Diluc, wait" It's barely a whisper, so hushed and subdued. So low, he doesn't hear it and when Diluc looks over his shoulder, the short-lived courage in you has diminished and you can't bring yourself to voice all the longing, desire, love trapped in your heart. 

"Goodnight, Diluc."

"Goodnight, (Name)." 

[ladykissingfish]

Halloween with the Akatsuki

Konan

Dress-up isn’t really for her, and neither is going out to join in any festivities. She prefers to go the homemade treats and scary movie route, staying either by herself or with her fellow Akatsuki members who think the same way. She’s the one who will decorate the house (often with Tobi’s help) with orange and purple lights, hanging ghosts and witches, and an entirely too-real-looking scarecrow. Might decide to wear some spooky-printed pajamas and/or a matching robe. Also makes herself of use to anyone who’s dressing up and needs help applying face paint or makeup. She also stays up the latest to ensure that those who do go out make it home safe and sound, although she doesn’t tell anyone that this is why she’s still awake.

Deidara and Hidan:

Normally these two don’t get along (to put it mildly) and avoid each other like the plague. However, on Halloween, it’s a different story. These two are the youngest in the Akatsuki and therefore much more into the “holiday spirit” than the others. They’ll help each other with costumes (Hidan figures that his normal getup/ritual black and white paint is scary enough, and Deidara will dress as a literal “bang”; bright, flashy clothing ((definitely with a cape)) with small handmade explosives set to go off at regular intervals). Deidara will likely be made to take Tobi trick or treating during the early hours of the evening, and Hidan will tag along; not because he likes candy but because he figures the sugar will give him a needed boost of energy for the rest of the evening. Once Deidara finishes with Tobi, he and Hidan will set out for some greater fun. Haunted houses are their favorite; they can separate themselves from the crowd and hide within the exhibits, to scare the bejesus out of everyone else. Deidara can throw as many bombs as he wants ((and at point-blank range)), and Hidan can lure countless unsuspecting sacrifices people into the darkness; and the best part of it? Everyone thinks it’s just part of the show. It’s only when the others realize that the “fake blood” and “fake dead bodies” aren’t so fake that they decide to dip out. Likely to end the night sneaking Kakuzu’s sake from his room, getting completely shit-faced, eating ALL of Tobi’s candy (which he’ll cry about to no end in the morning), then passing out face-down on the floor. Will have to be dragged to their own rooms by Sasori and Kakuzu, and in the morning Kakuzu will be as loud as humanly possible to punish the two hungover idiots for stealing his alcohol.

Tobi

A holiday whose sole purpose is to get as much free candy as possible? Sign. Him. The FUCK. Up. He doesn’t really bother with much of a costume (after all he’s already wearing a mask that greatly resembles a lollipop) but might adorn it with a set of cat ears and tail. He’ll beg his senpai to take him trick or treating (which will be refused at first because “You’re a grown man for fuck’s sake, hm!”, but then Pein and Konan will use some “gentle persuasion” on the blonde until Tobi’s wish is granted). He’s thorough with it; he’s had Zetsu infiltrate houses for weeks beforehand to find out who has what candy, so he knows the best route to take. When he’s done (or rather when Deidara’s patience has run out) he’ll go back to the hideout and start eating his hard-earned treats. But not too much; because Konan is also making pumpkin and ghost shaped cookies and green-dyed hot chocolate. Will end the night watching scary movies (during which he’ll hide behind a pillow) with Konan and Kakuzu (Kakuzu insists the movies are boring but for some reason he has yet to leave the room). Sometimes accidentally slips into Obito voice when talking about how much he “gets” Michael Myers. 9/10 will fall asleep and be covered with a blanket to stay on the couch. Also 9/10 will wake up to find his candy gone because of senpai and the jerk Hidan, and will sob about it until Deidara caves and goes out and buys him several bagfuls of (now conveniently discounted) Halloween candy.

Kakuzu

Likes to answer the door for trick or treaters, but instead of candy he’ll give out what he feels is “more helpful”. Like, pamphlets on how to start a 401k, or advice on what stocks are a good investment, or tips how to save the most when shopping at the grocery store. Most children are unappreciative of the old grouch’s “treats”, however, and the Akatsuki house always ends up heavily egged and TP’d. But hey ... that means free eggs ((the ones that aren’t too damaged, anyway)) and free toilet paper: win-win. When not answering the door, he joins some of the others in their “scary” movie fest. Not because he thinks the flicks are in anyway scary ((to him they seem more like comedies)) but he likes to analyze the actions of the main characters to see how and where they went wrong; good practice for future missions.

Pein

Thinks the “holiday” is utterly pointless, but gives his blessing for the others to indulge in in however they see fit.

Zetsu

This is the night of the year that Zetsu brings in the most revenue to the Akatsuki. He scopes out what places are having costume contests with cash prizes, and he enters, and literally always wins first place. Nobody can figure out how he “made” a costume so wonderfully realistic, with the unique dual skin-tone and the lush foliage. This is also a good time for him to indulge in sweet treats ... and NOT the candy kind. Lots of dumb teenagers like to wander out to the woods and have Halloween parties; their exuberance and intoxication lets them see Zetsu as just another guy with an awesome get-up. Getting one or two or ten of them away from the group is child’s play, and devouring them? Easier than taking candy from a Tobi. Sometimes will take a severed hand or foot and enter ANOTHER contest as a carnivorous Venus fly trap.

Itachi and Kisame

Neither of these two like to go out, so they spend time at the house together. Kisame goes out the day before and raids a pumpkin patch, and the two spend a good part of Halloween evening expressing their “artistic” sides on different jack-o-lanterns ((which will be mercilessly criticized by Deidara)). Kisame’s masterpiece is Samehada at his strongest and Itachi’s is the portrait of who he SAYS is himself as a younger man ((but is clearly that little brother of his)). Kisame is not a fan of candy, but Itachi is, so Tobi will bring him a large handful of his own to share. They will abandon their customary tea and biscuits for warm apple cider and whatever confectionary delight Konan is making. Might also join the others for scary movies at some point. Most Halloween’s end up with Deidara and Hidan coming back to the house very late, drinking too much, and falling asleep. This might be the ONLY time Itachi ever initiates an act of aggression against them, as he takes advantage of their out-of-it states to put each of their hands in a cup of warm water ((a trick he learned from Hidan himself)) and letting nature (and overfilled bladders) take its course. Kisame sees him doing this and laughs himself sick; it always amuses him when he sees his partner drop his ultra-serious nature and let loose like a normal young person.

Sasori

It’s always been said of Halloween for sweet-consumers to be aware of what they’re eating, as many unscrupulous people out there can hide poison in the candy. Sasori is that person who parents warn their kids about. However, Sasori doesn’t direct his malice towards children; rather, adults. He concocts a variety of poisons, sleeping agents and other horrors, laces candy or apples with it, and has his secret subordinates in other villages pass them out to pre-selected individuals ((usually people that the redhead has some sort of grudge against)). Sasori keeps careful track of his lab rats by sending small, drone-like puppets out to observe them, and record their reactions from time of consumption to whatever end comes for them. This research greatly helps him in terms of future poison preparations. If particularly bored, he’ll dress up some of his larger puppets in terrifying attire, and send them out in the darkness to stalk and frighten the life out of young trick-or-treaters. He’s likely to join some of the others who watch movies, or, if he’s in time to catch Deidara after the blonde passes out from his night of fun, he’ll take a marker and write “Art is Eternal” across his face ... in multiple languages.

[tcstu]

July’s Honorable Mentions

This was a great month for the contest! The competition was fierce and it was incredibly difficult to choose a winning piece. I hope you’ll take a few minutes to read through the Honorable Mentions below and see the incredibly unique perspectives each writer took when approaching this piece of art. If you like someone’s entry, reach out to them and let them know. I’m sure they would appreciate hearing from you!

As a reminder, The artistic piece for this month’s contest is an untitled digital painting created by Aldara @aldara-art​ . Aldara has some incredible pieces, so if you like this digital painting, make sure you check out this artist’s page to see more original creations!

Note: The pieces below are listed in the order they were received and do not reflect any system of ranking.

“Duality”

Written by: @evanthenerd83​

“Don’t get too close,” whispered the father. “They’ll bite.”

He grabbed his son’s shoulders with both hands, steering him to the far side of the path. Where it was bright and safe.

The rocky soil was broken in some places. He’d seen movement inside, quick and subtle. Almost invisible. ‘Bugs,’ he thought, grimacing in disgust.

“Don’t let them see you,” whispered the mother. “They’ll crush.”

She held up her hand, signaling for her daughter to stay in the depths of their canyon. Where it was dark and safe.

The giants took big, prolonged steps. Shadows fell upon their land. Rocks were dislodged by the shaking. ‘Gods,’ she thought, staring in wonder.

Untitled

Written by: Felix @a-tapestry-of-words​

When they came, they said that they would help us, that they were good, that they came in peace. That didn’t last long. I’ve heard stories of what they’ve done, lucky enough myself to escape before their true nature was revealed. Now, survivors, how ever few we may be, hide away, away from the strange creatures that stole our land and our lives. Now, we live in fear of their glowing red eyes.

“Another World”

Written by: Manu @themidnxghtwriter​

Taru had never run faster. Their lungs were screaming for air but they couldn’t afford to stop. They ran. Over startlingly blue streams. Past dull, grey rocks. Their eyes watered in the thick, dusty air. Their muscles burned.

They couldn’t rest. They weren’t safe.

Someone, something was still following them.

Taru ducked into a cave, panting heavily. They couldn’t run any further. Their legs were numb. Their heartbeat roared in the ears. Their bare feet were throbbing, little crumbs of dirt digging into the soles. Dust and sweat matted Taru’s long dark hair. They slid down onto the ground, tears clearing a steady path in the dust on their face. Taru had to stop breathing so heavily. The Thing might hear them.

They couldn’t hear anything for a couple of beats. Steeling themselves, they dared to look out over the desert-like land.

It looked like any dry landscape from Earth would at first glance. Your second glance would show that it very obviously wasn’t. The lake in front of the cave was a striking, unnatural-looking blue that almost hurt to look at directly. It reflected a thin, watery light over the walls of the cave. Scaly reptilian beasts hissed from underwater. Grey-skinned creatures with long horns atop their heads stared at them with malicious curiosity. The rocks were a dull pink, almost as if they’d been painted over. The sky was a resolute, bright but fading purple. The moon had disappeared.

And an enormous shadow loomed in the distance. Each step it took made the ground quake beneath Taru. Glowing red eyes that bored into their soul. They’d already seen the indescribable horror that the thing was up close, barely escaping with their life and they wanted to pull the memory out with their bare hands if they could.

This was not Earth.

This was not the place Taru had woken up that morning.

And so, the only thing they could do was run.

“Watchers”

Written by: Blurred-Cat @blurred-cat​

"They they are again mum-- watching us."

"Well, child, they aren't watching. They've not the ability to anymore."

"What are they doing?"

"Isn't that the question? Not even the wisest among us know-- but it's always at the same hour."

"Who are they?"

"We know not their names, child, only that they departed this world too quickly-- in fire and light."

"You mean the great light that started the world," gasped the child, pulling up their horned mask.

"Yes, child. It tore them away for the world so swiftly their souls did stay bound," the mother lifted her horned mask, to look at her child, "And we know they continue the last moments of their life."

"But the stories say they brought the light," replied the child, confused.

"Not all of them-- only those with power. These were innocents," sighed the mother, "And they likely knew not of the Burning Light which killed them all. It is by their folly we do exist. Do not stare, child, else you go as mad as them-- the Humans."

In awe, the child lowered their mask, and turned their gaze away from the shadowy giants.

“Roamers”

Written by: L.W. Locke @lliuem​

They were the gods. Once a class of great kings. What remained of a long-gone civilization. A master race. Enough power to down an army of egocentric knights and their armor. Above all, they were human. Yet only two remained. They were the Roamers.

Hunted for glory and fame. They wanted no war. They only wanted peace. No longer did they walk the world freely. They lived in the shame of their fallen kings. The shadows welcomed them.

Darkness loomed over the cliffside. Not that of a landscape hidden by clouds. But something monstrous. Rolling thunder. The storm that never ceased. Yet not a cloud in the sky.

Waves crashed against the wall of rock. No noise. For in the sea below, a Roamer sat. Their shoulders barely above water. Because, of course, they were but a child. A prince as one would say.

Ignorant to the war-torn wreck that surrounded them. A ship. To them it was normal. Wreckage. Forgotten. To a king, it was a sign of loss. The loss that was scattered throughout the land.

The last king. They were the shadow. The darkness that loomed. Their hatred for the knights that only grew stronger day by day. Anger that could only be soothed by the prince. Hope.

The king made it their final quest to guard the prince from the evils of this world. No longer would they live in a world for themselves. Instead, they lived to keep the legacy of the fallen kings alive.

Through the Fog

Written by: @sarcasm-for-free​

The path they were taking through the patch of garden behind their new house was swallowed by thick fog.

An expedition, Joe had called it before tugging his father with an outstretched hand along. His wish for an adventure hadn’t been denied, and nothing would for the next few weeks, or at least for as long as he had double brownie points on his side for taking their sudden move so well. The job demanded it, dad had said. Although Joe still didn’t understand what his father even did for money. All he knew was that he always laughed funny and shrugged when people asked him for which company he was working.

“Careful,” dad said and pulled Joe closer to keep him from tripping over a big rock. The ground was becoming more uneven the longer they walked, the lush green grass tapering off into colorful gravel and protruding stones.

“What do you think is behind the fog?” Joe asked, peering at his dad because there wasn’t anything to see in front of him except for white and wobbly mist.

Dad smiled, once again kind of funny, at him. “What do you want there to be?”

Joe thought about it for a second, biting his lip. “Something cool.” He nodded decisively. “Not just a swing set.” Then he shook his head, slightly panicked. “Not that a swing would be bad.” Sometimes dad was illogically touchy about the strangest things, as mom had called it before she’d left them. It wouldn’t do to hurt him if they did end up with a swing set.

“Hm,” dad said. His smile turned into a wide grin. “Let’s find out.”

Tugging Joe along for a change, his father trudged deeper into the fog while he pulled a dark plastic box, as big as his palm, from his trouser pocket. Sometimes he did stuff like that. Like grabbing boxes with punched-in holes or bits and bobs with lots of flashy buttons out of nowhere, or smiling with too many teeth, or packing them up from Lincoln County, Nevada, to go to the weirdest places for no other reason than work and then move back barely a month later.

“Okay!”

But that was fine, Joe thought as his next step ended up crushing something crunchy and also oddly squishy under his shoe, because it was never boring with dad.

[youngster-monster]

Mariage d’Amour

The King of the Cat Kingdom wants one thing above all else: his son’s happiness. Unfortunately, the old cat has decided that, to be happy, Lune needs to be married — or, at the very least, either courting or being courted by another cat.

“Father,” his son says, long-suffering. “I’ll only marry for love. We’ve already discussed this.”

The King grins, leaning precariously off his throne to look his son in the eyes. “But how can you fall in love if you never meet anyone new?”

Lune wants to say, I meet loads of new people, but by that he would mean his people, his soldiers, the castle’s servants. Nothing his father would consider marriage candidates. He also wants to say, that’s the whole point. He doesn’t particularly want to get married. He’s young, with many things to do to prove himself still. He cares about his troops more than romance at the moment, and that might change in the future, but right now he’s content.

Of course, his father doesn’t care what he has to say about it. He loves Lune. That doesn’t mean he listens to him. So, the King invites the whole kingdom to send suitors to the court, in the hope that one may strike the prince’s fancy. 

His life has been a nightmare ever since.

He spends his day sitting on his father’s throne, which would be a great honor if only it wasn’t so he could welcome suitors one after the other and listen to their sales pitch.

There are cats from all over the kingdom, of any kind and colors. Some are clearly only in it for the royal titles; a few came for the sake of saying they were here; many are painfully earnest, hoping that he’ll give them more than a spare glance. A… not insignificant amount of them are very openly attracted to him, which is sometimes flattering and sometimes deeply uncomfortable. He’s not prone to unreasonable rage the way his father is, but it’s still a struggle to keep himself from getting a few overly enthusiastic suitors thrown through the windows. One of them actually tried to crawl into his lap, and he feels his fur stand on end at the memory.

Long days pass with him trying his best to stay awake as suitors recite poetry to him, offer him gifts, showcase their talents and promise to treasure and cherish him forever, all in an effort to stand out from the rest. All fruitless attempts, as he only slips further into deadly boredom and uneasiness at each cat standing before him. He feels both like a precious treasure to be won over and a tasty piece of meat to be bought. Neither is comforting.

The constant chattering and the shrill background music is starting to give him a headache. He closes his eyes for a moment and rubs his forehead, wishing that he were somewhere else. Somewhere quiet, where people wouldn’t come to bother him…

He frowns, whiskers twitching. He might have daydreamed for a second too long: silence has fallen over the room, and while it’s a blessing, he can’t let them see any sign of weakness from him. He is their crown prince. He can’t just get a stress migraine in the middle of the day.

A sigh, one last indulgence he allows himself, and he opens his eyes again. But the crowd is not staring at them tired prince as he expected them to, something that brings him more relief than it has any right to. Instead, they’re all turned towards the doors, silent in that very specific way that precedes a storm of gossip. What they’re looking at he can’t tell: even from the vantage point the throne offers, there’s still too many cats between him and the other end of the room.

A rhythmic sound rises above the silent crowd — heeled boots clicking over the tiles, he realizes. The crowd parts in its path, and soon enough the stranger that shushed the crowd so efficiently is revealed to Lune. 

That feat alone would easily have endeared him to the prince, but he finds himself curious for a totally different reason. Whereas most suitors come here dressed to the nine, this one — he supposes it is a suitor — has donned an entirely dark attire, with a wide-brimmed hat that hides his face. Far from making him look ridiculous, it gives him a distinguished air that Lune immediately finds… intriguing, which is a first when it comes to this damned spectacle.

One of his guards goes for her sword at his approach, but Lune stops her with a raised paw. He wants to hear what this cat has to say.

The stranger lifts his head, revealing a silver mask further covering his features and warm ginger fur. His voice, when he finally speaks up, is calm and smooth, the same way he lifts his gloved paw to offer it to Lune.

“May I have this dance?”

In the moment it takes for Lune to hesitate, the band at the edge of the room has resumed playing. But the peppy music from before has been replaced by the first measures of a soft waltz, and Lune… lets himself be convinced.

He takes the stranger’s paw and steps down the throne. It’s a slight surprise to find that the offer is not only for show: the other cat actually helps him down, bearing his weight easily the way a true gentleman would have. 

A true gentleman might be what he’s dealing with, he realizes as the stranger leads him a few steps forward into the space that opened itself in the middle of the room, the rest of the crowd watching from the sides while chattering in hushed whispers. He draws Lune in without insistence but the prince still feels as if he’s being tugged closer by invisible strings, putting his paw on the stranger’s shoulder almost out of reflex than conscious thought and shivering as the other cat rests his against Lune’s back. 

Then, slowly, they sink into a waltz. Lune follows his lead — he was taught how to dance, but he never managed it with quite the same ease as the other cat, who moves as if there’s nothing more natural in the world than this dance. His red-lined cape flares in their wake, creating an elegant arc when they spin. Despite the flashy display, Lune can’t look away from the stranger’s face. He tilts his head down slightly to meet Lune’s eyes with his own, and they flash bright emerald green.

Lune is so taken aback by the sight — for reasons he can’t make a sense of — that he trips on his own paws. He clutches the stranger’s shoulder, already expecting the two of them to go sprawling on the floor—

Instead, he smoothly lowers his hand to bear more of Lune’s weight and dips him, passing off his clumsiness for something deliberate. They stay like this only for a second but it feels like hours to Lune, heart beating a staccato rhythm in his chest as he gapes at the other cat. There’s a hint of a smile on his lips, the faintest twitch to his whisker, that suggests he’s perfectly aware of Lune’s flustered state, though he’s perfectly unruffled himself. Then he lifts Lune to his feet again and leads him back into a waltz for the last few movements of the song.

The music fades, and the two dancers find themselves standing still in the middle of the improvised ballroom. The stranger only holds on for an instant, long enough that a second more would have been improper, but his touch trails off over Lune’s skin as if he’s only letting go begrudgingly, etiquette overriding his own desire. He takes a step back, back military straight, and doesn’t say anything.

Lune feels his body tingle where the other cat has touched him, a warmth that suffuses through his skin and down to his blood, making a pleased blush rise to his face. Lune who speaks up instead. He’s proud to find his voice level despite the blush he can feel warm his face.

“Who are you?” He asks, softly, as if not to break the spell.

The stranger thumbs off his mask, then takes off his hat and leans into an elegant bow, finally revealing his face to the crowd. When he rises, his eyes swipe over the tittering crowd quickly before once again settling on Lune.

“I am Baron Humbert von Gikkingen. I’ve come to ask for the honor to court you, if you will let me.”

This is the first time anyone has worded a proposal as a choice for him, rather than an offer from them. It’s so unusual Lune… Doesn’t know what to say. It’s not a commitment. He can put an end to a courtship at any moment. It’s a way out. And he doesn’t know how to accept it. Hours of etiquette lessons, and he forgot how to say yes to a courtship.

Baron is patient despite his floundering, watching him intently as he thinks this through. 

“I accept,” he finally says, voice low but sure. Then, louder, to make sure everyone in the room hears, he repeats, “I accept your courtship.”

A sigh of disappointment runs through the room, but he hardly pays any mind to it at all when the Baron smiles like this, quiet and satisfied. He steps back into Lune’s space now that he knows he has the authorization to do so, and brings his mouth close to Lune’s ear, warm breath making it flutter slightly.

“Then, until we meet again, Prince Lune,” he whispers, followed by a quiet huff of laughter. “Hopefully with less of a crowd to gawk at us next time.”

Then he’s off, turning on his heels and striding through the crowd without a single look back. He dons his hat again just as he steps over the threshold of the room and seems to disappear into the shadows of the corridors, gone as quickly as he appeared.

Lune watches him go with a kind of stunned wonder. He keeps his hold tight around the mask Baron slipped in his paw — a promise, he knows, of a return.

Maybe there’s a case to be made for romance, after all. It does seem to make life more interesting.

[squidpro-quo]

AN: This is for @starlightsigner for the @dcmksecretsanta! I’m sorry for the tardiness, it’s a bnha au ft. angst

He’s seven minutes late. Hakuba tapped the edge of his phone against his knee in agitation, trying to stave off the inevitable impatience before a heist that he could tell was already starting to overtake him. Of all the things that he didn’t agree on with Kaito, like the villainy and the ‘thieving gig’ as Kaito called it, he’d always known he could count down the seconds to his rival’s dramatic entrances because he at least understood that punctuality was important. That Kaito always valued it for showmanship was another thing. 

He’d watched a group of kids play marbles for the first five, but by now they had departed and the park was beginning to darken as the bandstand remained empty aside from him and a woman twirling a battered rose between her fingers as she gazed out at the snowy trees. Its color was distinctive, a bright yellow like the one he’d gotten upon his graduation from UA almost a decade ago. The General Studies program hadn’t been as flashy as the Hero course’s, but he never forgot the elation that had overtaken him nonetheless. Neither could he forget what followed: being hired at the agency, finding he was more suited to the police side of matters than a straight-up hero spurred not just by the nature of his quirk but Kaito’s rise to infamy as the flashiest phantom in existence. 

“You don’t have to follow in his footsteps this much!” he could remember saying, once he’d cornered Kaito into the revelation that he really was the Moonlit Phantom, reborn as the reporters said after ten years of absence. 

“I can’t not. And besides, you’ll be there watching my every move, won’t you?” The trademark grin had been almost too much to bear, the way it crinkled into the corners of Kaito’s eyes but stayed out of his pupils. But Hakuba had done just that. 

Dogging his footsteps, outlined in the moon’s silver light, and ensuring that he had a counterweight even if he was pushing back instead of pulling forward as he wished he could do. It had become a routine, meeting up to see what they could each probe out of the other and between their questions were the answers they sometimes sought. If Hakuba had some leads he’d unburied from his agency’s files, he would never tell a soul besides Kaito; and if Kaito had a warning of what passed in the villainous channels, then Hakuba would happen to hear it. 

The woman left, the sharp clip of her shoes breaking him from his thoughts enough for him to notice the rose falling from her fingers. Reaching down to pick it up, he called after her. 

“You dropped this, ma’am.” 

She turned in surprise, looking down at the rose with no intent to take it back, her hands rubbing at her wrists instead of reaching out. 

“Oh, it’s not mine. I found it here, there on the railing.” Pointing behind him, she continued. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

Without any further questions from him, she turned away with a slight frown on her face upon seeing his expression, but he was already preoccupied by his realization. He considered the rose in his hand in a new light, inspecting the broken stem dangling underneath the crushed petals still clinging on like the last remnants of sunlight in a day. 

Kaito dealt in roses, passing them out when he was wearing someone else’s eyes or his own smile with not much distinction between what form he took. But why would he leave one now? Was it merely a token of affection? Nothing was ever that simple with Kaito and certainly not in their line of business. 

The bright yellow wasn’t a mistake; it was a message.

Pulling out his pocket watch, Hakuba rewound the minute hand by a quarter of an hour, then a half, focusing on how far back he could afford to go without losing too much of his headway. He had one shot at seeing the truth, he could only hope it would be within his limits. 

Resting his thumb against the pocketwatch’s knob took all the focus he had in him at the moment, not wasting a second longer in activating his quirk. Time flooded back around him, washing over the landscape like a tidal wave in reverse and flowing around him as he stood a solid rock in the face of the stream. 

Silhouettes filed past him, mothers pushing strollers passing down the paths like ghosts despite him remembering their faces from when he’d entered the park as they were leaving. The eerie jumble of sounds in reverse always provided an unsettling backdrop to his search and the creeping feeling along his back only heightened his urgency. 

Finally, a flurry of movement around and through him before his view cleared and Kaito stood with his back to him, watching the paths leading to the bandstand: waiting for Hakuba. He looked different, hair now a shock of bright white instead of his usual black, and he was taller than Hakuba remembered but when he turned around to lean against the bandstand’s railing, the same grin, wide and not a little bit wild, shone back that had always preceded a trick of some sort. 

As he watched, the floor of the bandstand rippled and roiled upwards until the form of a man appeared made entirely of beaten concrete with eyes of brick. Kaito kept his smile nailed into place, though Hakuba saw his eyes flicker towards the path leading out of that section of the park that he himself had walked down not twenty minutes after. Hakuba waded through time to stand closer, almost overlapping with Kaito as he inspected the newcomer’s face and the way Kaito’s knuckles tightened on the painted wood underneath his hands. 

“Out in the open today, Phantom? Not a wise choice.” 

Hakuba finally put a name to them after the form spoke, the villain Compacter, even as Kaito merely shook his head at his taunts. 

“I have never claimed to be wise,” he said, spreading his hands before him as if to show they were empty and patting the newly formed statue on the shoulder, “But what does it matter if I can be seen when you are just as visible as I am?” 

“You with your stolen faces, and me with my…” The statue gestured to itself idly. “Forms. You can’t hide when the walls have ears.”

Hakuba frowned as he watched Kaito slip past the statue, his form shrinking and morphing until he was a bucktoothed, freckled kid of about ten years old bowing as he held up a large marble between his fingers. 

“I’d say, next time, don’t follow me on my errands.”

“The boss’ll hear about this. You won’t be able to hide from us when we strip you clean of every bauble you have. Who’ll you turn into then? A Phantom with no face left.” 

The Compactor stooped to grab his arm in a tight grip with hands that completely encircled his small wrists. Against the rough concrete grating over his skin, Kaito’s face stayed as still as if he were the statue instead, though as Hakuba leaned in close, he could see the tremor at the corner of his mouth. 

“You can’t chain me down if you wish to have me do what work you want from me,” Kaito finally said. 

“But I can certainly keep you on a tighter leash. This’ll be the last few minutes you have alone. Enjoy it before you return to your haunt, Phantom.” 

The statue dissolved back into the floor of the bandstand, leaving Kaito with a ring of bruises around his wrists and a small crack appeared in his mask. Hakuba took out his watch, the pain in Kaito’s eyes piercing him too much for him to endure it for longer, but before he could fast-forward, Kaito changed again. 

His hair grew long, flowing and blonde down to his shoulders, with one step, the next gave him a dress down to his knees; the spitting image of she who’d given him the yellow rose. 

Hakuba slammed down the button on his watch, speeding ahead in time: seeing his arrival at the bandstand, the waiting, the woman’s departure and his leap into the past. He tried to pause then, to return to where he’d left, desperate to stop even though he knew the price for his traveling. He kept going, watching the sun sink in the distance and the shadows grow long with the extra half-hour he had spent watching the past. When he stepped out of the stream, fingers pressing into the watch’s sharp lid, only the yellow rose greeted him. 

And he remembered the promise he’d made back then, the first time Kaito had given it to him. 

“You can’t escape me, not in the past or in the future.” And he’d meant it. It was time, time to find Kaito and pull him out before he fell too far.

[heroes-writing]

Hello! There's an ask that I made for other opm blogs some time ago but it never really got answered. Weird as it sounds I would like either a scenario (short story? idk) or headcannons about how Sonic would be if he was hired to kill someone but in the process of stalking them, he became enamored with them? Not in a yandere way (lol) but in a genuine way because the person is so kind and sweet in everything they do. (Anyways, welcome back! I was surprised when I saw you on my dash xD)

Yee! And since I’ve talked to you further about thisrequest, I’ll add some more info for those who don’t know.

The character/oc featured in this as belongs to @vocakira! Andthe timeline is a little before Sonic meets Saitama, while trying to stay trueto Sonic– so he’s kind of crushing in this, but not fully enamored (Yet)! (ALSO I CANT BELIEVE I HIT 3k WORDS WITH THIS skjdbvksjdv)

:D Please enjoy!  

Word Count: 3350

There were a few ways Sonic could tell if someone was a liar.

Unsteady eye contact, hiding of the hands, and a sweaty facewere the biggest tells. His weaker employers, the greedy and the doublecrossing were the ones who he could easily call out.

Then came the businessmen, with their shady contracts, and theirwords holding two meanings. Unluckily for them, they always had an inability tokeep a story straight…

And finally, there came the liars Sonic was the mostfamiliar with:

The hardened killers.

With their cold voices, and their addictions to pitilesscruelty.  

Sonic knew he was dealing with the latter at his firstglance around the facility.

He never walked into a place blind– he always scoped outthe defenses, the ins and outs, the weaknesses and strengths. There were armedguards at every door, sealed entrances, and human sized cages they usedfor who knows what… Sonic could tell by the pristine lab coat of hisemployer and the copious amounts of sedative the facility kept in barrels—hewas in for an interesting contract.

Usually he wasn’t one to judge, maybe they had a real monsteron the loose, but there were too many alarm bells ringing for him to feel likehe could completely trust this place.

They were apparently a medical company, tackling issues ofmonsterfication and psychic powers running wild. Whatever. The detached way thehead scientist spoke of it was so fake Sonic wasn’t too focused on listening.

The contract was to assassinate a hero, after all.

“That’s not very noble of you.” He remarked, as dry as adesert. It was a low A-rank as well.

“She is showing signs of instability and refusing help atevery turn. It’s truly unfortunate.”

Sonic scoffed at first, but then narrowed his eyes inthought.

He was given a thick file, and when he opened it he was metwith a picture saturated with warm colors. A woman. Young. Notlooking at the camera.

His silver eyes ran over paragraphs of text, then large blocksof dense black ink of redacted information. He wasn’t fond of thateither…

Not even upon reaching the second page, his dark eyebrowshiked up his forehead, the rest of his expression twisted in apathy. “She won’teven hear me coming, huh?” He asked in his usual crass way. He shut the fileand fanned it slowly even in the cold lab in which he stood.

The scientist before him nodded and pushed his glasses upwith a thin finger. He had burn scars around his wrists.

“Partially. Her powers are likely to deafen you as well.Explosions and a refined ability for pyrokinesis have made our previousattempts at capture impossible. So, if you would be so kind, please keepher body well preserved. She is like a daughter to me.”

“Hn.”

That was the only sound Sonic made.

“This subject goes by Dahlia, and I guarantee you that sheis incredibly dangerous and liable to lose control of her powers. She hasrefused vital treatment, and so we must do what is right…” The man’sglasses glinted. “You understand, correct? This is what must be done.”

“I don’t particularly care.” And that was the truth.Unlike the sketchy man before him, Sonic didn’t feel the need to put on airsfor whatever reason. If what he said was true, then an unhinged opponent wasall too easy to take down, and if he was lying then…

Various instincts Sonic had honed over the years were alreadyblanching in distaste. Perhaps warning him of a broken contract to come. It wasall too familiar to him. This facility was obvious in its exploitative nature—Itcould have been a ninja village in disguise.

He didn’t have the hard proof though, and he was no hero. Hedidn’t have to seek out the truth, yet.

With a slight haughty nod of acknowledgement, Sonic vanishedinto a writhing mass of shadow and silence. He didn’t have to completely agreeor believe what these people told him.

The mission was accepted, regardless.

—

Sonic bolted through the hot air of the summer afternoon.Leaping from building to building in a black and purple blur, he raced aroundZ-City searching for signs of his target.

…The first step to a successful assassination after all, wascareful surveillance.  

Fortunately for Sonic, he never found that ninja art difficult,it was almost natural. As easy as breathing~

With a confident smirk he knew that his skills inobservation were extraordinary. His senses were keen to deception…

“There’s no disguise I can’t see through. You can’t hidefrom me—" He spoke aloud. The image of her face from the facility’s filewas ingrained into his brain—even if she got surgery to hide her looks, hewould–

“Ah—” Sonic froze on the edge of a grey bricked building, asmall drip of sweat slipping down his temple.

“There she is…”

Flores Dahlia’s red hair may as well have been abeacon in a crowd. Her eyes were orange just like in her reference picture. Herclothes were styled in the same way. Her red hair was so long and striking, itwas easily the first thing he noticed when approaching the main street.

Seeing her for the first time, her stature and expressionwere completely different from his reference picture.

He pulled it out of his back pocket, his eyes glancing backand forth between the image and the person sipping a coffee outside a café.

The image was perhaps when she was younger. Dark circlesbeneath her eyes and a worried expression.

The woman before him now was the opposite. A healthy glow toher skin, and a bright, bright smile.

Sonic realized very quickly that this woman wasn’t hidingherself.

Over confidence? Sonic thought.

Does she think she think she can take me on?

With the corners of his lips pulling downwards, Sonicglowered. For the next few days he spent many hours watching those gentle wavesof red, waiting for his opportunity. From early in the morning to the dark nighthe watched her live her life.

…To his discomfort it was peaceful and happy, to say theleast.

Nevertheless, against a dangerous target Sonic was no fool.He kept his presence carefully masked, and even though she was partially deaf,he used every ounce of his ability to remain silent. Looks could be deceiving, perhapsshe was the type to go berserk during the heat of battle?

Sonic was ready to catch this woman out on some nefariousactivities, or did that scientist think he was that stupid? The detailsof her violent nature were quickly being proven false—but he had yet to see herfight.

She’s a hero, and I haven’t seen her scrambling for fame…

Another half of him came to her defense—Well, she doesn’tflaunt her powers unnecessarily.

Flores Dahlia got up early and left her apartment around thesame time as her roommate. (Apparently another person of interest, but not onSonic’s payroll to kill.)

She dressed modestly, carried herself with poise, but she didn’tseem aware of the bounty on her head.  Shegreeted people politely on the street who recognized her and called her,“Dolly-chan!” Her hero name… She never gave any indication that she sensed Sonic,and so over the days his distance grew closer and closer.

Sometimes he grew near enough to smell her perfume. It wassweet, but not hard on the nose. There were times he brushed against her warm shouldersin the crowd—she met his eyes once and blushed shyly before glancing away. Hehad felt a little pride at that.

Sonic supposed she could be so extremely confident inherself that she became oblivious but…He shook his head gently, making his inkyblack hair sway around his face as he pretended to look at his phone.

This girl’s naivety was clear even after the first day onhis surveillance.  

Sonic rarely saw her without a kind smile on her face.

Even during the times where he tested her, placing himselfin her line of sight, steadily emanating killing intent, she seemed to see thebest in others. She had no idea she was under threat.

And because she was a hero, he was ready to watch herfight already! She didn’t search for opponents– even though that seemed to bethe association’s thing. Heroes always played gimmicks to raise rankings…Insteadhe watched her working a humble day job at a store for most of the time, herfriendliness was brightly apparent in her face and eyes.

There was not a shred of deviousness in them. No sign ofinstability or lack of control.

Today was no different as she treated herself to chocolate cheesecakewhile at a cutesy café. Lunch time always made her particularly energetic asshe would shuck her work apron and don her civilian clothes again. With a blankexpression he watched her take a picture of her food and send it to someone onher contacts list. When she got a reply, she smiled so hard it made herfreckles stand out…

Something in Sonic’s heart contracted a little.

…Maybe it was indigestion from his coffee…He looked at itwith a scowl and threw it expertly in the trash from a distance.

–Then her smile fell as a large explosion plumed from a fewblocks over.

A roar shattered glass in a flashy wave as wind and debrisflooded the street. Sitting at a nearby table from Dahlia, Sonic watched herleap to her feet, and race towards the scene.

Like a mirage, a completely black attire flooded over herform. It covered almost every inch of her skin, much like his own ninja gear…Heassumed the material could handle extreme temperature or high impact.

Finally! He thought.

With a serious expression he changed position to the highbuildings above the street. It was about time– He would see this damnwoman in action…

He watched her break out into a modest run, rounding cornerswith a determined expression. A large monster was throwing a tantrum in a largepark and those large bursts of dust were spiking into the sky at every second.

Silently Sonic followed, perhaps he would get his chance totake the kill while her back was turned…Perhaps he would give her a chance tosurrender…He wanted to get this mission over with, he was tired of thinkingabout her at every second of his day and feeling—something.

He needed a good fight. A challenge maybe? That could beit…

He had never fought someone who could generate flame before,and he wondered if that was enough to even compete with his speed…

“Heheh.” Sonic smirked to himself with his facedarkening…Brute strength can never win, not against my flawless techniques!!

Sinking into deep shadow, he watched this hero race onto thescene. What would she do? He wondered. What kind of brash and chaotictechniques would he see from her that would seal her fate? Would she finallydrop that good girl act?

Dahlia let orange flame gently burn at her hands and beneathher feet, levitating her from the ground smoothly. Her red hair swayed, and ina burst of speed she appeared above the large monster. Red clashed with thesoft blue of the sky.

The monster’s height towered above even the oldest oaks inthe park, but she had cleared the distance without issue.

Sonic’s grin deepened—and with a confused grunt from themonster, it tried to tilt its ginormous head skyward to swat at her like a fly.

She pinched her fingers together, flame bubbling up inbright balls of light. Without warning a rain of fire began to shower and peltthe monster like bullets. Tears and holes in its form blasted the monster away,erasing it with a pained scream that sent shockwaves across the park.

Trees bent over backwards, Sonic covered his ears, butDahlia cut the scream short as the rain of fire became a controlled wave thatcascaded to the earth. The monster was enveloped. Burned away. Gone.

Her face wasn’t smiling, and she looked a little worried asshe descended to the ground and glanced around.

With a wave of her hand, any remained embers that werecatching in the wind drifted towards her fingertips. The heat seemed to siphonaway from the humid summer day like a vacuum.

Sonic gaped at her.

That’s it??!

He watched her sigh and shake her head at the large blacksmear on the ground. She was perfectly calm, in complete control.

“Maybe she needs more incentive!” He growled.

Just as she was turning back to the direction of the street,her expression neutral—Sonic appeared before her like a mirage. His expressionsinister—

“Flores Dahlia prepare your-“

“Oh! You scared me!” Her lips formed a sweet ‘o’ as herhands flew around her.

Why does she have to be so very expressive?

Almost thrown off track, Sonic composed himself, “I’ve come for your life—”

“I’m sorry, sir, can you not hide your mouth in your mask.Please?” She gestured with her hands in quick tandem and dared to step closer.All too nonchalant in her action, but somehow knowing she probably didn’t meananything by it– Sonic’s eyes bulged.  

As an afterthought– a need to stay true to his priority, heslipped into a defensive posture, his hand on his sword.

She blinked at him.

“S-sorry!” She exclaimed in confusion, “I read lips, but Ican barely hear you with my aid…Do you need something?” One of her handsslipped behind her ear, revealing the shell of it and the device attached. Sheshowed him plainly, her posture full of openings. Too many damn openings. If hewas anyone else, he could have killed her by now!

That thought made him feel something like rage, and hedidn’t know why.

And her smile had returned, although uneasily.  

How can she be so unaware?!?!  

With a dark expression he snatched his scarf down with hisother hand, “I’ve been sent to kill you.” He said slowly.

In a calm and benevolent way, he extended his hand towardsher. “However, if you return to your caretaker, I won’t have to eliminate you, FloresDahlia…”

Her mouth remained open, but her eyes were glinting withsomething like acceptance.

“My caretaker? Is that what he told you?”  She shook her head.

“No, of course he told you that…” She muttered.

Her hands moved through a series of motions, “May I ask whatyour name is?”

…Sonic had to admit, he appreciated the polite opportunityfor introduction and straightened his posture.

“Speed of Sound Sonic.” He inclined his head, “Let me startout by saying, no opponent of mine has ever escaped alive. I plan on keeping itthat way.”

He flickered behind her, his lips right next to her ear, “Sowhat will it be?”  

She slipped her hand over her ear, shirking from him. Hisstomach felt a twinge of discomfort at that as she turned around skeptically, “That’sfine. I don’t want to fight you, and I have no intention of going back.” Sheturned to face him fully, her hair swaying behind her.

“If you kill me, I assume it would be quick. Thatpreferable to torture.”

…He hummed thoughtfully, “I’ve been told many things aboutyou—a penchant for lying is one of them.”

For the first time her expression twisted into anger. Hissilver eyes watched her warily, ready for flame at any second.

This was it then, he would goad her into showingher true colors—

Dahlia shook her head, pressing a hand against her chest, “Idon’t lie.”

“My ‘caretaker’ made me this way! Haru and I arestill recovering from his treatments to this day!” Dahlia pointed at Sonic, hersuit flickering away into a bracelet on her wrist. A pink skirt flared aroundher hips again, and a soft white jacket carried the scent of her perfumestraight to Sonic’s nose.

“I’m my own person, can I lie about that?!”

…

Sonic crossed his arms as Dahlia continued, “What he’s doingis illegal, and if you knew what was really happening in that facility youwould probably never go back—”

Sonic’s expression hardened at the edges, giving her hiscruelest smile. “That’s laughable. Just because you’re weak doesn’t meanthe same rules of your pitiful existence apply to me. No one can catch Speed ofSound Son—"

“Well good!” She exclaimed, catching him off guard.Her vehemence was painfully sincere as she leaned towards his face, her orangeeyes clashing against his silver ones.

“I wouldn’t wish that fate on anyone!! I’m serious, Mr.Sonic. Don’t think he won’t try to capture you once you’re done!”

She didn’t fall for his words, instead giving it her all forthat damn hero act… Growing agitated in her presence he did the only thing hecould think of. In a flash he pressed his sword against her neck, a few strandsof her beautiful hair flew away in the wind. Dahlia remained unmoved.

…Sonic found he rather liked that expression, those eyesstaring at him. She hadn’t even flinched, and she didn’t blink when he pressedthe blade into her skin harder.

“Fight me.” Sonic growled, the tension in his stomachwas growing into a tight knot at this point.

“No! I don’t want to hurt you, especially when you’re beingused like this—”

He scoffed, “You think you can hurt me?! You–”

She interrupted him at every turn. Dahlia glared at himsteadily although her lips wobbled, “I don’t want to take the chance. I’m notwhat they told you.” She tugged his sword away and for some reason, he lether.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you…And I don’t know if I couldmatch what they’re paying you—” Her expression turned worried and sad, “Evenwith my hero salary and my–”

Sonic sneered. The mere thought curdled his stomach, “Idon’t want your money!!” He shouted, and her eyes widened.

For a moment, silence reigned over the park. Sonic had lostwhat he wanted to say, and it was all because his interest in this woman wasbecoming too obvious to ignore…

He caught sight of her hearing aid as she adjusted it, andit hit him so suddenly that if what she was saying was true…

“Were you raised in that facility then?”

“I wasn’t born there, I was taken.” Her words became clippedand emotional, “I was normal, and they changed me.”

Steady eye contact, splayed hands, her breathing was even…

A shallow breath was sucked into his chest followed by anoise of anger. It’s just like his village, taking orphans to train, to turnthem into killing machines.

He sheathed his sword, his expression dark. “If I searchthat facility, will I find evidence that you’re telling the truth?” Hespat the word like venom.

She tilted her head, “You’ll find children who want toescape. I know some remember home. Will that be enough?”

He struggled not to scoff, “…I’m no hero, but I will not belied to while under contract.” Sonic turned his back to her—then instantly felta hand against his shoulder, trying to tug him around. Shocked by herforwardness, he remembered she had to see his mouth to understand him–

He obliged, a little red in the face, “I want to fight youwhen I finish taking care of this.” He said it like a threat, and Sonic wassure his face was icy, but she smiled, nonetheless.

“Can I treat you to a dinner instead? I don’t like scorchingfriends.”

His expression twisted. Embarrassment, frustration, and purepride fought across his face.

He didn’t say a word as he disappeared, his cheeks warm andhis shoulder tingling from her touch.  

“I’ll be back for you, mark my words!”

[human-nonsense]

Chapter 1 of my WIP

Hey looking I'm being a writeblr lol. So I've posted parts of this chapter before but this will be the full chapter. its definitely not perfect (its like a slightly edited first draft lol) but I tried lol. I appreciate anyone who reads this! Hope you enjoy <3 <3 <3 

Tagging @marvel-and-writing @northofnowhere4 @kaz3313 @cassandra-yannu-writes and I’ll tag you @kiki-thelocal-farmhoe even though you read it already ajkdjjfhakjhf 

Paige had asked me not to follow him that morning. I lasted not even five minutes before I grabbed my cloak, projected out of our realm, and make my way toward the Earth against his wishes. He honestly should have known better than to ask such a thing of me, especially today, but I think he was so much of a nervous wreck when he left that my role in all of this must have slipped his mind. Probably.  

As I traveled through the space between Earth and my home, a small ring of blue appeared in front of me. Without hesitation I reached out and pulled the sides until it grew big enough for me to step through it. With my feet hitting the soft ground the smell of grass filled my nose and I smiled. It’s been a while, I’ve missed you.

Then the smell of cattle and shit reached me, and my face cringed a bit. I blinked a few times as the portal disappeared behind me and the sunlight blinded my eyes. The shapes around me cleared and I found myself standing in a field among 20 to 30 black and brown cows. Their brown eyes were all on me, and I raised my hands in surrender.

“Hello darlings, it seems I’m in the wrong place. Any of you know where Mistwood is?” One particular cow made a muffled mooing sound before completely turning her backside toward me.  Ignoring my question, she ripped at the grass below her.

“Ok sorry for asking.” I muttered a few curses along with “Rude cow,” as I put my hands down. Treading carefully as I avoided cow waste, I tried my best to look past the cows and off into the horizon in hope of seeing buildings. I can’t be THAT far off...but then again, the Earth is pretty large. I frowned.

 “AYE! Get away from my cows!” I turned around and found an older man shaking a shovel in the air. He was steaming as he paced quickly toward me.

“Who are ya, huh? You trying to steal me cows? Speak thief! I won’t continue to be taken advantage of just cuz you people thing I’m old! You hear me!” I side eye the cow that had ignored me earlier as I muttered, “As if I’d want your cows.” “What you say!”

“I said I’m lost. Can you help me? I’m trying to get to Mistwood.” By this time, he was now a few feet in front of me. He was shorter than me with a ragged white beard and a small hunch in his back. He dug his shovel a bit into the ground and leaned on it as he studied my face with narrow beady eyes.

“So... you’re not trying to steal me cows? How do I know you’re telling truth huh? I’ve been robbed before, how do I know it wasn’t you who robbed me last time! I’m not dumb! I’m-”

I placed a hand on his shoulder and felt a coolness grow on my palm. My eyes caught contact with his and I smiled. I could feel as the old man’s tense shoulder relaxed in my grip. The shovel slipped from his grasp and landed with a thud on the ground. His eyes gleamed bright for a second before dimming down to their natural brown. I smiled again.

“I promise I have no desire so steal from you. Now can you tell me where Mistwood is?” The old man’s fists clenched and relaxed at his sides. He took a deep breath before he gurgled the back of his throat and spat to the side. I had to hold myself from twisting my face.

His eyes gleamed again as he said, “It’s roughly 200 miles East from here.” I glanced in the direction he was pointing and let go of the old man. East? Oh that’s right, I forgot that’s the new north. Who was the dumbass who switched those around? It wasn’t me was it?

The old man shook his head a bit. He probably felt the usual groggy and confused, but I didn’t have the time to explain to him what I did or say that I was sorry. I could always come back and do that. I could even give him a cow or something. Better yet I could deal with the people stealing from him, but for now I had to find Paige. I hope I find him before he finds her.

I was already making my way through the cows, my eyes peeled for their crap, by the time I heard his voice again. “Aye, wait! Wait one second young lady, what was... I feel... WAIT!” Now outside of the herd, I turned to face him as I continued to walk steadily backwards. “Yes?” Struggling to keep up he asked, “You’re not gonna walk all the way there are you? It will take days and you got nothing with you. What kind of traveler travels without supplies huh? Are you sure you’re not up to something bad like stealing-”

A large blue ring of energy burst open behind me stopping him in his tracks. “Of course not, thank you for your time Jaymes. May our paths cross again another day...or something.”  I stepped back into the portal and I watched as his eyes grew wide. His mouth hung open as the ring closed around me. Before the portal completely closed, I popped my head out and quickly told him, “And good luck with the cows and the harvest. Remember not to drown your plants that what got you in trouble last year, ok bye”

I vanished with a pop. The words “how did you...” echoed in the distance as I made my way toward Mistwood.  I was careful not to arrive anywhere crowded, I did not need to freak out a crowd and create a whole mob today. Some Earth Humans may know about magic but not all of them. And as for the few who practice it, their abilities could never compare to what Paige and I could do.

I peeked through the small ring to check if the area was clear before stepping into an empty alley. I took a moment to rest against the brick wall that ran down most of one side. Those portals really do a number on me, especially when I miss. With my eyes closed and my back against the wall, I blindly padded down the various pockets hidden within my black button-down vest. It took me a second but I final took out a light blue cloth out of a pocket of my navy-blue britches. The cloth was long enough to tie around my face up to my nose, which I did.  I waved my hand slowly across my face and the cloth glimmered as it changed into a dark mask.

The mask waved and shimmered giving it the illusion that it was made from fluid water like shadows. I use this technique usually to make sure my face will be covered no matter what lighting I may walk through, but also, well, because I thought it was cool. It covered everything except my eyes. Finally, I got off the wall and put the hood of my cloak up to hide the rest of my head from sight. Not wasting anymore time I paced out of the alley and on to the semi crowded sidewalk.

I think I blended in with crowd well enough? My clothes were definitely not as flashy or bright as they could be, but they were nice.  I got a few glances no doubt due to the speed I was walking and the fact I was just slightly pushing past some of them. Not too hard of course, I don’t need to accidently break one of them or something. Oh that would be the last thing I need today, another headache to explain to Paige.  

“Hey what’s the rush huh!” I briefly turned back to give the slow man I had bumped past a look. He spilled a bit of the drink gripped in his hand as he jumped back, practically out of his skin.

“Ahh sor- sorry.” He stuttered before I turned back and kept walking. I’m going to take it that my eyes are really red right now if I freaked him out that badly. On a less stressful occasion I probably would have enjoyed messing with an Earth human, just a tiny bit, but my thoughts of Paige pushed any thought of fun out of my mind.

There was no telling where he could be, the city of Miswood was a very large, busy, and modernized city that he could literally be three steps behind me, and I’d probably never know. So instead of search for Paige I decide to head straight for the hospital I knew would be his end destination.

The place, unfortunately, was a building he has visited many times before, but today would be a different kind of visit if everything went according to plan. I have been to Mistwood’s Hospital of the Sun many times too for various reasons, so I knew my way well. It seems that Paige and I are often...needed in those sorts of places.

After a block I decided to just run for it. With every step I was cursing out my portals. A few lifetimes of practicing and I still can’t do the stupid things right 100% of the time. They’re just weird to me and so hard to navigate in that you basically have to guess when to step out unless you’re constantly peak out all the time. I am not afraid to admit I get lost...a lot, and that’s why I’m running because I don’t want to try again and accidently end up in another city like an idiot.

Maybe my frustration blinded me or I was too busy keeping myself from wheezing too loudly, but I completely ran past him before I registered his existence in the corner of my eye. Skidding to a stop, I took a few steps back and saw a pacing Paige mumbling loudly to himself back and forth farther into the alleyway next to me. His hands covered his masked shaking face as he said to himself, “I can’t do this, I just can’t! It will be one big mess!”

My attention being solely on him I gloriously rammed the side of my hip and leg into a metal trash bin on my right while I was making my way toward him. I grunted and cursed, grabbing at my side as the metal bin crashed with a loud CLUNK on the floor before spilling most of its contents between the two of us. Paige’s head snapped my direction. The air around us picked up and cooled to the point we could faintly see each other’s breathes. In seconds it warmed as the air calmed the moment he recognized me.      

“Greenwood?” He whispered. His hands were slightly shaking and his eyes wouldn’t meet mine. Rubbing my side and giving a frustrated kick at the bin below, I made my way closer to him. “Paige, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be­-”

“I know!” he interrupted loudly before quickly covering the part of his mask where his mouth would have been.  He waved the same shaking hand over his face and his dark shadowy mask similar to mine vanished into a small white cloth. Still not meeting my gaze he pulled the cloth down to his neck before running the same hand through his brown hair.  

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...I shouldn’t of... I’m just...” sighing he started again. “I’m scared. Of what she will think of me. I don’t know how much she might remember and... it’s hard. So I panicked half way and I just...” he gestured the alley around him. I waved my mask off and pulled the cloth down. I was close enough now that I could reach out and touch him so I placed a hand on his shoulder. He kept his head down so I cocked my head to the side to try and met his gaze.

“Hey, I know what you mean. The closer I get to her... the more terrified I feel.” His eyes finally glanced up to me. “You have no reason to be afraid. She’ll love you if we can do this right but me...” I placed my other hand on his other shoulder as I smiled at him. “Exactly Paige! If we do this right she will... we will have another chance to make things right. To make it up to her.”

Paige was quiet as his icy eyes searched my now blues ones, considering the conversation. A small grin made his way across his face.

“You’re not trying to use some magic shit on me now are you?” I laughed before letting him go. “Me? Of course not, though I did have to do some to get here.” “You didn’t use the trees?” “I...didn’t think about it to be honest. I wasn’t thinking straight and I got just a bit lost, but I’m here so what does it matter, right?” He shook his head, his grin not leaving him.

“I thought I asked you to stay put?” “Can you really blame me! I mean what would you have done if our roles were reversed, huh?” “Not far from the same thing.” His grin fades as the daunting weight of his task fell on his shoulders once more.

Twisting one of my fingers in front of me, I continued. “And now that I’m here, I can help.” He looked down, his eyes glancing at his sword. “It’s still mostly up to me though.” “That’s true. I can’t do this for you, I know that, but I can walk with you, yeah? And when we’re there, I promise I won’t be far.”

I gave him my best smile and he gave a short laugh. Nodding he answered quietly, “You never are.”

He looked off to the side in a daze. His hands were shaking a bit less now, however one of them was grasping the shiny silver sword at his hip tightly. Blinking out of his daze he looked at his sword again and slowly nodded his head. I watched him intently, as old memories resurfaced no doubt in both of our minds.

At last he said, “I made a promise to try didn’t I. So try I will. For her.” He looked my way and I gave him a nod. “For her.”

Paige took a deep breath before placing his palm on his chest. “What color should we be then?” I thought about it for second before answering, “I don’t think there’s many Ohpan humans this down south so... Ralodan?” He nodded his agreement and I put my own hand on my chest. Together we said,

The true form of the universe is unknown

It is hidden within a color we can not see  

Just like I wish to be

Make me Ralodan

           As our final words left our lips, a white light extended from our hand. The light beamed bright as it expanded from our chests causing the parts of us the light touched to disappear. In a matter of seconds, we were completely gone, or at least we would appear to be among the Earth Humans. They wouldn’t be able to see or hear our footsteps. As long as we kept our mouths shut and hands to ourselves it will seem like we don’t exist at all. We gave each other a once over to make sure we were completely covered before I lead us out of the alley way.

Neither of us walked with much of a hurry. I could only guess Paige was trying to stall as much as I was. Though my face felt emotionless my hands could not stop twisting in front of me. Just thinking about where we were heading made my stomach drop and my heart beat a bit faster. Paige though calmer, was still gripping his sword tightly and his shoulders were tense with stress. I looked away from him and smiled to myself. I guess we’re still just as human as anyone else huh...

I crashed into Paige’s backside, my distracted mind not realizing he had stopped. I whispered my apologies, but he didn’t pay me any mind. His eyes instead were glued on the towering hospital a block in front of us.

For a second I thought he might run away. He was paler than before and wouldn’t look away from building and I was prepared to catch him if he did decide to flee. However, he only put his hands in the pockets of his old black leather jacket before walking ahead of me. I took a moment to watch him and look up at the rows of windows higher above. I wonder which one’s hers...I thought, instantly making my stomach drop again. With a hand pressed to my gut I followed behind him.

No one paid us any mind as we entered the hospital. The waiting area was full of buzzing people rushing here and there. Some of them I recognized as doctors and alchemists due to their orange, red robes that had a large symbol of the sun on their backs. Paige and I had to be patient and observant enough to stay out of people’s ways. This made catching up to Paige to be a bit of a struggle but hey like I promised him, I wasn’t far off.  

In the middle of the hospital stood four large blocks of wooded lifts that were each separated by maybe a couple feet of marble flooring. Each lift had four poles to hold up a thin roof that was decorated with silver sun symbols on the top. Large silver chains were attached to each corner of each lift. With my eyes I followed the chains up the seven levels of the hospital all the way to the clear glass roof that allowed the sun to beam directly on the lifts and then some.

I watched with a proud smile as the symbols of one of the full lifts glowed red and the chains began to rattle. Up it went, faster than one would expect just looking at the weight it carried, but the power of the sun is a strong force. A joy filled me. Using the power of the sun took the humans millions of years to figure out and only a few thousands to relearn it, I was proud of them.

As Paige and I carefully dodged and maneuvered through the people we soon were able to reach the lifts. Paige managed to get on one with ease while I had to jump desperately reaching out for one of the poles as the lift left the ground. With the machines speed I only managed to grab the bottom of the pole. I felt my legs dangle down below and I willed myself not to look down. Silent as I could be, I pulled myself up and looked at Paige. I narrowed my eyes at the grinning face he did not try to hide. I gave him a very colorful gesture before gripping the pole tightly as the lift buckled to a stop.

There were three people being carried on a cot on the lift, two stronger looking individuals were at both ends of each one trying to keep the cot steady. These cots took up most of the space. A few clusters of families stood here and there with doctors in between them attending to the patents. As a cot and company made their way off the lift, a larger crowd of people took their places. The new flow of people pushed Paige and I tightly to the corners of the lift to the point we were both standing on the outside of the poles. The tips my feet barely stood on each side of the pole with the back of my feet touched nothing but air as a small family inched its way closer to me.

My stomach swirled as the lift buckled to life and I felt the absence of floor below me. Against my better judgement I glanced down just as the lift zipped upward. A sharp curse left my lips as my stomach dropped at the sight of the long-tilted drop below me. I closed my eyes and pressed my head on the pole as I tried to forget the image. It filled me with only a little bit of peace to know the marble floor did have an enchantment placed on it to make sure no one could fall to their deaths. Don’t ask how I know that.

I open my eyes briefly and a small child that belonged to the family in front of me was scanning his eyes my direction.

Well shit. Paige was watching quietly to my left. He had more room than I did with both feet standing firmly on the floor. I didn’t know what much he could do if anything.

Just looking at him all I could tell the child was eight and named Kelith. While glancing around for my voice, his curious eyes lingered on my face for a few seconds. I held my breath. His gazed moved on yet a frozen state took me as he reached out toward me with his small hand. I sucked my stomach in the closer he got. My heart thundered in my chests as thoughts reminded me of the open air behind my back. Shoo! Shoo! Please don’t make me have to drop and get another lift! Please Kelith! Mind your business!    

His small hand touched the pole a few inches below my hands as the lift came to another stop. His family, who were more concerned with their fallen family member then any sound I made, trailed a few doctors and a cot off the lift and onto the fifth level of the hospital. The child not wanting to be left behind followed quickly behind them giving me the opportunity to breath.  

Seconds after making are way up again I hear the taunting voice of Paige say, “That could’ve gone worse. I do wonder what you would’ve done if he had found you out.”  Glancing around the lift I found the lift to be a lot emptier than it had started out with. “I wasn’t about to fight an eight-year-old if that helps. Even if it was tempting.” He smiled and opened his mouth to answer only to close it into a thin line when the lift stopped for the final time.

A hand brushed over Paige’s paling face and through his hair.  “This is her floor isn’t?” I heard no answer. Light blue eyes were hazed in thought as they stared down the hallway before us. I glanced past him and watched the last cot getting situated to step off before looking back at Paige. Placing my hand on his shoulder I found tension there. Faint droplets of sweat adorned his forehead. The cot was halfway off the lift by now.

“Come on Paige.” There was pause of continuing silence. Before I could consider trying to drag him off, he nodded and walked forward. I followed behind and heard the rattling sound of the chain coming to life as my feet meet marble.

My eyes never left him as we continued through the hallway. Watching his stiff and uncomfortable presences made my mind fill with its own fair share of nervousness. Each quiet step we took, each stressed doctor holding files of paper rushing to some unknown room, each pained patient I caught glances of through windows and doorways... I wanted to bolt back home. I wasn’t ready to face her. I was a brave coward, I guess we both were. Brave enough to keep going but so much of a coward that I regret how far we’ve come. Then we turned a corner, Paige slowly stopped and that’s when I could hear a heart beating. I couldn’t tell if it was mine, but it echoed distantly as Paige turned back to finally look at me.

He leaned in closer as he whispered, “We’re a bit early, the morning nurse is still with her.” My eyes glanced against my will to the small window of the room to my right. That heartbeat returned stronger than before to only quieting down as only the light orange robes of the nurse filled my view.

I looked back at Paige just as he was recreating his mask. Instead of the shadowy void that we had worn before was now a simple polished blue porcelain half mask. The door clicked open and out stepped the nurse between us oblivious to our presences. I gently caught the door inches before it clicked shut. Paige made sure the nurse had made it down the hall before speaking again. The white of the walls, the emptiness of it all made it feel like nothing else existed, only this hallway, this room, me, Paige, and…

A weight filled my chest. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to walk through this door and face her if the thought of her alone made me anxious.

“Will you come in with me?” whispered Paige, his eyes practically begging me to say yes. I nodded. He relaxed just a bit.

“But I’ll stay like this, I don’t want to be seen just in case she remembers me.” “You know there’s only a small chance of that.” “But if she sees us both it will increase the chances. I don’t want to risk it. It will be too much for her if she remembers us both.”

Paige fiddled with the zipper on his jacket. “You’re right… I just think she would prefer to see your face over mine.” He places his hand on his chest and softly chanting,

I am of the Earth and the Sea

And of the space between all things

Let me be seen

Like before a white light beamed from his hand and traveled the extent of his body as it dispelled the color Ralodan that had covered his former self.  

He took a deep breath before facing me. “Where do you think I should start?” That question had a million answers. Over the last couple of centuries, it has haunted every quiet moment I’ve ever had, yet I still had no for sure answer even now that the question mattered.

“I…I can’t tell you that, but I do know not to start at the beginning. Maybe instead start with the chapter before that.” Paige nodded. He managed to take a step towards the door before I grabbed his shoulder, stopping him.

“Hey everything will work out, yeah? I know you can do this Paige.” His tensed shoulders relaxed only slightly. “I don’t think you have enough energy to magic my stress a way Greenwood.” “It was worth a try.” He patted the top of my head before pushing the door open and making his way into the room. I shook the nervousness out of my hands quickly before following right behind him.

I could not help by smile the second I saw her. There she was, after so long, she was now only a couple feet in front of me, of us. She was young, only 21 years old. Her dark blue eyes were a bright contrast against her light skin and the dark bags that laid beneath them. Her dark hair was a mess that came to her shoulders. The girl was pale and sweaty. She coughed and closed her eyes as she rubbed her chest. I thought she would pass out, but her droopy eyes reluctantly opened again. Almost like coughing drained her of all her energy. Like she was wasting away like an old woman laying in her death bed. My heart ached just looking at her.

Spread out on her bed were varies pieces of paper, pencils and pens. A pair of scissors was lazily grasped in her hands. She must have been doing some sort of crafts, as best as I could tell. At first, she didn’t notice us when we walked in. Her focused gaze was toward the large window to her left. I managed to catch a glance of the small birds that were chirping and dancing right outside the glass before the door closed with a click behind me. Hearing the door, she blinked out of her thoughts and turned our way.

A small sharp gasped escaped her, stopping Paige in his tracks. She turned her head in confusion as she studied him. Paige took another step and the girl moved back in her bed away from him.  

“You…who are you?” she managed to whisper.  A tense Paige took another small step towards her. The girl gripped her scissors a bit tighter in her gasps. I put an arm out in front of Paige to stop him from getting any closer. He didn’t look at me but as I quietly made my way away from him, he didn’t move a muscle.  

 “Hannah, I’m not here to hurt you. I-” “You know my name?”

Do you ever have that moment when look at someone and their face and very existence makes you so angry you could just punch them in the face then and there? Do you know that feeling? Well, I watched as the slightly fearful, yet curious look on Hannah’s face twisted to burning rage seconds after hearing Paige’s voice and I knew that moment was happening now. Her blue eyes burned dark. Her whole body started shaking, I thought she was going to explode. She had changed so much from the sick weak girl she had seemed that I took a few cautious steps away from the two of them and toward the window.

“That voice... where do I know that voice.” She said through strained teeth. My eyes grew wide. I looked at Paige and he was already looking at me. I could tell the same thought was running through our minds. She remembers.

“Why do I know your name! Tell me who you are! Or get out!” Goosebumps appeared on my arms as a dark and heavy energy creeped its way through the room. It felt warm. I could see it seeping out of Hannah as her anger grew. I looked at Paige and he was pale and sweating.

Desperately he pleaded, “Wait! Please hear me out. I’m here for you. I’m here to-” “Here to kill me.” Her voice was dead cold. I was worried now. I needed to do something but what could I do? If I reveal myself and she recognized me there was no telling if that would make things better or worse.

“What? No! I just-” Hannah threw a pillow and Paige took it right in the face. “Get out! NOW!” Paige gave me a pleading looking as he clutched the pillow like a shield between him and Hannah. I gestured with my hands something that said “What do want me to do? I’m trying to not be known!”

 Trying again Paige pleaded, “Look, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you-” Hannah wasn’t listening though. She instead was seconds away from pressing the emergency button on the side of her bed. Paige noticed and clicked his fingers. A blast of air covered the room just as her hand slammed on the frozen button. A shiver went down my spine. The air was noticeable cooler than it had been a moment before. It did not mix well with the heavy heat of Hannah’s rage creating an almost humid feeling to the room.

Hannah hit the button several times, but it wouldn’t move. Grunting in frustration, her eyes zoomed around the room and stopped as they met the window. The birds were there only they were still, frozen in flight. She snapped her head to Paige making him raise his hands in surrender.  

“What did you do!” she yelled. Paige was backing away now, the energy was crawling toward Paige and I had no idea what to do. “You were going to call for help and I panicked, I’m sorry! I here to-”

The dark energy blasted in all directions in the room. I raised my hand to block the blast. BOOM. I felt small thuds hit my back as the window behind me exploded. Hannah screamed in surprised. I held in a curse as I looked back and saw half the window now across the floor as glittery shards. Looking back at Hannah her eyes were wide and scared. She can still do magic? Oh fuck.

“Hannah…” The girl snapped her head at Paige. She was still shaking but now more out of fear and bewilderment than anger.

“You did that.” “No-” “Yes you did! You are here to kill me. I can feel it in here.” She pointed to her chest. “It’s my time, right? That’s why you’re here right! I can feel it. Every day I’m worse and no one knows how to make me better!” Tears were glittering her cheeks. Her fists were shaking, and her jaws was strained.  

“But I won’t just die without a fight.”  Gripping her scissors, in a flash she threw the blanket off her, stormed off the bed and headed straight for Paige. Reacting on instinct I grabbed the girl around her waist, stopping her in her tracks. Let’s be honest here, I doubt she could do much to hurt Paige, but she was angry, confused, armed, and just exploded a window so I was not underestimating her right now. 

“Stop it!” She yelled at Paige, unaware that holding her back was not his doing but mine.

I gave Paige a look that’s said, “Do something!” as she fought against my grip. I was carful not to breath on her but considering her mind set she didn’t noticed it was a person holding her back and not magic.

She was wild. I ducked just in time to avoid an elbow to the face.  I couldn’t even calmer down if I tried. I needed to look in her eyes for that. But she was still sick so deeper breathes were soon following her fighting.  Paige was clutching his sword as he looked at me with wide eyes. The heavy energy of the room was trying desperately to reach him, but he forced it awake with a flick of his hand. I could physically see the clockwork crank in his mind. He ran his hand through his hair quickly before unsheathed his sword, raised it above his head and slowly got down to one knee before Hannah.

I almost gasped but held it back. There were only a few beings in this world Paige kneeled too, one of them was me, and the others were being greater than the both of us combined. He really is serious about making amends…

Keeping his head down he pleaded, “Hannah, I promise you I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to help.”

“Help! Help me how? By ending me!” Still fighting to get free she laughed at the idea. “I know what’s wrong with you! Why you’re sick all!” Hannah stilled in my arms. I could feel her anger cool just the slightest. She stared at him for a long time before she finally asked, “You do?” Paige slowly nodded. “You’re lying! No doctor can figure it out, so how is it you know what’s wrong with me?”

“Because I know more than any doctor will ever know. I know every illness, every poison on this planet and the next. That’s why I’m here, I…” He looked up at Hannah. “I know how to heal you.”

Hannah was still shaking but was leaning more against me now. The longer she stood in my arms the more she seemed to rely on me to stand. The warm heavy energy recoiled toward her as it died down. She was sweating and tired but trying her hardest to not show her weakness to Paige.

“I don’t trust you! I just look at you and I… you can’t only be here to heal me, can you? I know you’re here because I’m dying. I can feel it, but…that’s not the only reason why I go so angry is it? There’s something else behind that anger.” She placed a hand on her chest. Gently he answered, “You’re right. While most people don’t like me and react to my presence in all sorts of ways, you are the first on instinct to be filled with a…justified rage.”

Hannah stared at him as she caught her breathe.  “So, you are who I think you are then.” “Maybe. I am, well, a lot of things.” Hannah narrowed her eyes. “Then explain it.” Paige slowly stood. “I will. I promise. But first I need you to listen to a story of mine.”  

There was a silent pause that echoed through the room. Paige opened his mouth to say more but Hannah beat him to it.

“A story? Why would I want that!” “Because I promise you the story will explain everything I am. It will explain the true reason behind your anger, why you are dying, and most importantly how you can heal. Please. Just give me one chance.” Hannah was silent. I noticed her head turning a bit as she looked at the birds again. Their frozen state was unchanged. She looked back at him.

“I still don’t trust you. The worst part is I feel like…like I know you.”

“I promise to explain everything. You deserve it.” Hannah gave a reluctant sighed.  

“Fine. But you have to promise not to do anything weird.” She gestured to herself, the frozen birds and exploded window. “Well technically I didn’t destroy the wind-” “Secondly I get to keep your sword until you’re done.” Without much hesitation Paige agreed and offered her his hand.

I finally let go of her and took silent steps away from the two of them, watching them intently. Hannah hesitated, eying him carefully before gripping his hand. Small streams of light danced as they encircled their hands. Hannah watched with eyes wide open.

“I thought I told you not to do anything weird!” “Don’t worry, it’s just magic. These lights will make sure I keep my promises.” Hannah pulled her hand away once they died down.  

“What’s magic?”

Paige relaxed just the slightest at the sound of her calmer voice. He sheathed the blade, untied some strings and offered the sword, scabbard and all to Hannah. As she took it and slowly backed up into her bed, Paige answered her question in the most annoying way possible.

“How do you not know what magic is?” Hannah narrowed her eyes. Paige rubbed the back of his neck and apologized.  

“Whatever, I get it. Magic is the source of your weird shit. Now, will this take long?” Paige took a moment to think. “Probably.” Hannah did not look pleased by that answer. Placing Paige’s sword in her lap she gripped the hilt. Paige cleared his throat as I made my way closer to Hannah’s side.

“You know there once was a time when all humans in the world could do the ‘weird shit’ all the time.” Hannah raised her eyebrow in disbelief. “It’s true. The Earth is full of all kinds of chapters filled with all kinds of people. In one chapter the humans wielded magic like it was an extension of their own bodies. And in another their magic was stripped away from them. My favorite I think is the story of how humans go their magic back.”

“That’s great. How does any of this help me?” Ignoring her question Paige absent minded said to himself. “I think I’ll start with Bruno.” Confused Hannah asked, “Bruno? Who is that?” Paige smiled under his mask making his eyes brighten a bit.

“He was a young man. He lived when the old countries use to separate the world. I don’t know a lot of his story, but I do know he was… there.” Hannah raised an eyebrow. “Where is there?” Paige clasped his hands together. His eyes were cloudy like he was lost in his thoughts. He looked at me, his light eyes swirling with white energy as he answered “He was there when the planet broke apart. He was there when the humans, their ancient countries and kingdoms finally fell to pieces.    

[beautifulblhell]

Welcome Home Ch1

Finder Fanfic: Asami x Akihito

Summary: Akihito is living with Asami, yet he refuses to say "Welcome Home" to Asami. Will Asami be able to get Akihito to welcome him home, or will danger take Akihito away first? 

0 1:36am  

A black silhouette was pacing backwards and forwards like a caged animal in front of the entrance of an abandoned warehouse. Every so often, the shadow would jerk its head towards any sound coming from nearby, standing still, but after realizing it is not the sound that it is after, it would resume its pacing. Soon the silence was broken by a distance sound of two engines. The shadow paused once more, head cocked to the side, and listened. When it realized the sounds were getting closer, it hurried towards the entrance of the warehouse, and nonchalantly leaned against the decrepit frame.  

The sound of the cars grew louder and louder until two pairs of headlights swerved from the side of the building and turned towards the entrance. Bright lights illuminated the black figure, revealing a tall man clad in a long black coat and hat. It was impossible to tell where his body and shadow separated, as if they were one. The tall man didn’t move a muscle as the cars came to a stop a short distance away from him, but the dark glitteringorbs beneath the hat followed the cars’ every movement without blinking.

As the sounds of the automobiles cut off, the second car’s doors opened, and a small army of bodyguards spilled out, surrounding the first car, guarding whoever is inside. Then, the driver’s door of the first car opened, and a huge man stepped out. Dressed in a black suit and a pair of sunglasses like the rest of the bodyguard army, he went around the car and opened the passenger door and remained bowed as he waited. Waited for his superior, his boss, the person that could end his life with a single gesture, to come out.

A man stepped - no, it was more accurate to say that he squeezed with all his might against the car’s door frame, then, with a pop, he was free and rolled forward, his flock of bodyguards surround ing him instantly. How so many bodyguards fitted into one car will forever be a mystery.  

Donning a bright purple suit, the ball of a man tottered forward, breathing heavily. The fabric around his waist stretched alarmingly, threatening to tear open any second. A striped gold and red tie were tied under his green shirt collar. Without the tie one would have trouble telling that he possessed a neck. The shoes were a maroon colour, polished until it reflected the huge balloon stomach. Every short, pudgy finger was adorned with a least one flashy diamond ring. The authenticity of the diamonds ha s yet to be confirmed. The fat around his face seemed to fold down and hide his little eyes, though there was a gleam that indicated where his eyes were. His mouth opened, showing two rows of yellow teeth, with the occasional gold teeth. T he nose was crooked, giving the impression that it had been broken too many times. Maybe he used to play sumo, or maybe he really annoyed someone and they bashed his face repeatedly against a wall. He took out a handkerchief and wiped the beads of sweat rolling down his shiny forehead. While wiping near his hairline, his whole hair moved backwards, showing more forehead.  

Mr Shadow strode forward to greet Mr Gaudy, bowing slightly, but jerked upright again, as if afraid to keep his eyes away from the small army before him. Mr Gaudy seemed pleased with this, and stood even straighter, pulled his head back and proceeded to look down on Mr Shadow, which was quite hard since he was at least four heads shorter. Mr Shadow held out the briefcase he was carrying, opened it and showed the contents to Mr Gaudy. Mr Bodyguard turned on a flashlight he magically had with him while his boss inspected the goods. Mr Gaudy was obviously satisfied, and he smiled, opening wide his mouth, his fake gold teeth flashed, reflecting the light from the torch. Motioning with his hands, Mr Bodyguard No. 2 stepped out and held out a thick A4 envelope. Mr Shadow handed over the briefcase and accepted the envelope and peered inside quickly, but decided it was too dangerous to stay to check, hurriedly bade Mr Gaudy farewell and slithered back into the shadows. Mr Gaudy soon disappeared into his car and drove away.  

Unbeknownst to them, their secret rendezvous was all captured through a viewfinder...  

“Hmph, amateurs.” The photographers muttered. “ Hewould never do something this easily to be caught.” Only the wind caught his words, carrying and dissipating them into the darkness.  

************************************************************  

~ The next day ~  

“Hahaha!” The Chief Editor ’s booming laughter echoed throughout the whole editorial department.  

“ Hmph , we all know why he is so happy,” Mitari , a fellow journalist, grumbled, and took a swing of his canned coffee.  

“Why are you sucking on lemons so early in the morning, Mitari ?” A cheerful voice rang out. A hand clapped on Mitari’s back, which caught him in surprise and made him choke on the coffee.  

“Ew, gross, I just saw coffee spurting out of your nostril s. Ahh, I should have taken a picture, could have been another headline photo for me then.” The mop of blond hair shook in fake sadness, while there was no masking in the cheeking grin.  

“Don’t get such a big head just because the Editor likes your picture, newbie.” Mitari barked.

“Yeah, yeah. Mr Old Timer.” The blond smiled goofily and headed towards the Chief’s office. “We will sit tight on our ass all day and wait for the gold mountain to fall onto our head, shall we? Except we might be smashed to death. Urgh.” He pretended to shudder at that thought. “Though that might do wonders to your face. Maybe it will smash a permanently smile on your face?” He smiled innocently towards the veteran journalist.  

“Maybe I will smash your face inwards if you don’t stop annoying me.” Mitari growled, which just earned a laugh from Akihito as he opened the door and disappeared into the office.

“Hmph, we will see how long that bravado of his lasts.”  

“ Haha , give him a break. Not many youngsters these days shows guts like him, right?” Another fellow journalist laughed and tried to pacify Mitari .  

The photo that Akihito took was indeed good: the angle, the clarity. Mr Gaudy, the politician that had been captured by Akihito’s viewfinder, will definitely be working at McDonald’s at the end of the day, if they were desperately short of staff. Or maybe at a street food vendor. Mr Shadow, the drug dealer, no doubt got in trouble with his own boss, stealing and reselling drugs that belonged to his boss. The normal punishment would be cutting of his little finger , present it to the boss and be banished, but Akihito reckoned that the fish tonight in Tokyo Bay will end up with a feast.  

Despite being happy that his photo ended up on the frontpage news, Akihito was aware that just because of this once doesn’t mean that he could take it easy. The other journalists would certainly try and surpass him. But maybe he could just celebrate today as he got extra pay since the Chief was feeling generous (the Chief had not been a fan of Mr Gaudy). But even though he got quite a lot, he could never compare to him. This was probably no more than a tip he leaves in those fancy-ass restaurants.

Akihito strolled out of the building, humming, spirits high. Maybe he could afford to splash out, buy some premium Wagyu beef for Shabu-shabu hot pot tonight. Just thinking about it made his mouth water, and his feet naturally made him walk faster towards the fancier supermarket, which sells the Wagyu beef that he eats. Just. No way was Akihito going to that super fancy shop that sells Wagyu beef a thousand times more expensive than normal wagyu beef. What made them so different? Does the shop wrap them in thin sheets of gold and sprinkling some truffles? With a giant diamond studded on top? After all, Wagyu beef was already expensive enough and if he wasn’t going to eat any then damn him, Akihito will eat all of it. Totally not why his purse refuses to allow him to go there. Anyway, he already looks out of place in here, where the slightly more ‘upscale’ housewife shops and gossip about whose wrinkle grew deeper by 1 picometre and whose pimple grew bigger by 1 nanometre.  

Parking his vespa at the parking spot next to a shiny black BMW (Akihito had to resist the urge to bump slightly against the car to scratch its shiny new surface), he took off his helmet, sucked a big breath, and speed walked towards the entrance. Giving a quick nod to the salesperson who welcomed him, he grabbed a basket and proceeded to grab his shopping in record speed. Akihito had already memorized the whole layout of the shop so he doesn’t need to waste time trying to locatewhere something is, and, even worse, ask a salesperson in those fancy suits for help . Pray God that they don’t change the layout anytime soon.  

Udon , check. Cabbage, check. Tofu, check. Kombu, check. Premium Wagyu beef, Akihito winced at the price, check. Enoki mushroom, check. Shimeji mushroom, check.  Aaaaaand , Akihito grinned evilly, shitake mushroom, check. Fresh shitake mushrooms, since they got way more flavour than dried shitake mushrooms. He wondered what people would think that he wouldn’t eat a simple thing such as shitake mushroom. Akihito laughed inwardly, and realized that he was smiling when the housewives were doing the whole staring-whispering thing at him. Akihito couldn’t care any less at this point, already coming up with fifty ways of hiding the shitake mushroom. Maybe wrapping them inside the wagyu beef? Chopping them up to atomic size and blend them into the soup?  

At the cashier, the final amount made Akihito gulp and he made a quick prayer to whatever d ei ty that was listening to him that his card wouldn’t be declined, then remembered that he got extra pay today so he definitely had enough. Akihito gingerly picked up the receipt, glanced at it to make sure that they didn’t charge anything extra (refusing to look at the final amount), then quickly scrunched it up into a ball and chucked it into the nearest bin. Stuffing his groceries into his Vespa, he opened up his phone.  

To: Ultimate Final Boss  

: Shabu-shabu hot pot 4 2nit. Be on time. Or beef will be all mine mwahaha

To: Glasses-san  

: Make sure the evil warlord is back early from his conquer 2nite. Cheers Glasses- chan  

Strapping his helmet on, he zoomed across the roads, finally arriving at the condo, and parked his vespa in the underground parking space. With his shopping in hand, Akihito stepped into the elevator and rode to the top floor.  

With a ping, the elevator arrived at the penthouse level, and Akihito carried the bags out, shuffling all the bags into one hand, while the other hand dug into his pocket to fish out his key, or his spare key, to be precise, and unlocked the door.

A gust of cool air greeted him when he flung open the door. Placing his shoes at the genkan, he put the bags down and stretched, arms raised above his head, letting the cold air wash over him. How lucky one is to have working air conditioning, especially during the summer, and to be able to leave the air con on while no one is home, Akihito shook his head, grabbed the bags and headed towards the kitchen.  

By now, the kitchen was overflowing with Akihito’s presence.  A whole cupboard with double doors was dedicated to Akihito’s snacks. The fridge was stacked full of vegetables of all different sorts of colour. Pots and pans of different sizes were laid out on the counter to dry.  

Akihito changed his clothes, put on an apron, andproceeding to make a feast.  

*********************************************************************  

Akihito had just finished setting up the table for Shabu-shabu when suddenly a pair of steel arms wrapped around him from behind, caging him.  

“Woah!” The plate of sliced Wagyu beef nearly went flying. “Jeez! If they had fallen on to the floor, we would still have to eat it! Damn, that’s half my salary in there.” Akihito grumbled.  

Before he had time to say anything else, a hand snaked around to his face to turn his head to the side , and a pair of scorching lips crashed against his.  

“ Mm m , wait.” He gasped. Before he had time to protest, a burning hot tongue invaded his mouth, twisting and sucking his tongue, and the hand on the back of his head pushed him firmly against him.  

His smell filled his nose, the smell of a faint cologne and Dunhill smoke.    

Akihito’s brain stopped working. The world seemed to rev olve around him . Or maybe it did. Maybe all the stars and planets did orbit around him . Akihito wouldn’t be surprised if they actually did.  

Asami Ryuichi.  

Chiselled jaws that even Zeus would be jealous at. Raven black hair that had slipped from its place and had fallen onto his eyes. Smouldering gold orbs stared deeply into his eyes, as if they could see Akihito’s soul. Akihito trembled slightly, enjoying the gaze that never failed to make him shiver in excitement.  

“Hmm.” Asami’s lips tug ged upwards slightly, and his thumb gently caressed Akihito’s lips.  

“W-what were you thinking?” Akihito pretend to fume, desperat e ly trying to cool his flam ing cheeks.  

“That your glistening lips look very delectable right now , h ow can I hold myself back?” Asami smirked, and inched his face closer to Akihito’s.  

“Wait!” A hand slapped across Asami’s mouth. “I’ve got Wagyu beef!”  

Asami’s eyebrows quirked upwards. Then a devilish smirk appeared on his face. He tongue flickered across Akihito’s palms, and bi t them slightly.  

“B-Baka! Stop it! Otherwise I will only allow you to watch me eat the beef!” Akihito desperately tried to pull his hand back.

Asami’s hand caught Akihito’s wrist and wrapped his tongue around Akihito’s forefinger.

“Hmm, I hope that you will satisfy my hunger?” Asami leaned in and whispered seductively into Akihito’s ears, his teeth graz ed against the younger man’s earlobe.  

“Ahh, you bastard.” Akihito moaned, finally resigning himself and pushed his chest toward Asami, wanting more contact.  

To his surprise, Asami pulled back, grinning evil l y.  

“What?”  

“Fufu, I quite like this hungry look on your face.”  

“Twisted bastard.” Akihito grumbled, shoving Asami away from him so the yakuza couldn’t see how red his face had become.

He quickly grabbed the plates that were filled with meats and chopped vegetables and set up the table, all the while muttering curses under his breath, and throwing scowls at the older man. Once everything was set, he threw himself across the table, a rms crossed against his chest, looking warily at the man opposite him.  Asami had changed into a simple white shirt, buttons undone at the top, showing his muscular chest. Akihito quickly adverted his eyes as Asami smirked at him, noticing what he was staring at.  

“You are late.”  

“I tried to come home as soon as I can.” Asami opened a can of imported beer, tilted his head back and took a gulp. Akihito couldn’t help noticing the condensation from the can dripping down from Asami throat before slowly making its way to his chest. Akihito swallowed noisily and teared his eyes away before he gets too turned on.  

“That doesn’t make it okay for you to be late. And you are late by a whole hour. I should have eaten all the beef myself.”  

“But you didn’t.”  

“Maybe I should have.”  

“By the way, where’s my welcome home?” Asami tilted his head to the side , staring at Akihito.  

“...”  

“...”  

“Shut up, you arrogant bastard, I'm not your wife. I’m going to start to eat . Itadakimasu ” Akihito snatched up a piece of Wagyu beef and put it in the pot, swishing it around and shoved it in his mouth, wishing that the smirk on Asami’s face didn’t make the bastard so sexy. No, EVERYTHING the man does make him look like some kind of god. Every male on the planet will feel inferior when being compared to Asami. Probably even the way that he accidentally trips would look graceful, though Akihito highly doubt that will happen, Mr Glasses Secretary always makes sure that nothing comes to harm his boss.  

By the time they were finished, the sky ha d become completely dark . Akihito leaned back, and patted his full stomach.  

“Ahh, I can’t eat any more.” He groaned and looked over at the man across him . A small pile of mushrooms was at the corner of his bowl. Asami noticed that Akihito was looking at his bowl and smirked.  

“It doesn’t matter how small you cut them up, I can always pick them out.”  

“Only pre-schoolers are picky about their food.” Akihito stuck out his tongue at him. “That was so good.”  

“The quality of the beef wasn’t that good.”  

“Insufferable rich bastard.”  

Asami stood up and opened the doors for the balcony, gazing outside. Akihito soon stood next to him.  

“Here.”  

A look of surprise passed Asami’s face as he realized what Akihito was holding.  

Akihito shrugged.  

“Figured you might need it.”  

Asami took the box of his Dunhill cigarettes and the lighter, smiling slightly.  

“Here.”  

Asami he ld out a small white box. Akihito’s eyes widened at the sight of the logo on the box.  

“Isn’t this from the really famous bakery shop that you have to reserve months ahead for a seat and it’s nearly impossible to buy a cake from the shop as the line is hours long and by the time you are at the front everything is already sold out? How did you get this? Did you know that I always wanted to taste this?” Akihito gabled, raising up the box gingerly , looking at it in awe.

“Of course I knew, since a certain brat wouldn’t stop talking about it for days.”  

“Oh.” Akihito mumbled. It was true. When the first time he saw on the news that the shop was open, he knew that he wanted to try their cakes. Everything looked so good and amazing, but it was virtually impossible to get a seat. Either you wait ed for months or you knew the owner of the bakery. Or if your name was Asami Ryuichi.

“So ...what’s the occasion?”

Asami tilted his head. “No reason. The owners wanted me to taste it. I thought they might suit someone else better.”  

“ Haha , they should have known better than to feed you sweets.”  

Akihito opened the box carefully. Nestled inside were a Mont Blanc cake, a slice of cotton cheesecake and strawberry shortcake. All his favourites. He didn’t know what to say. He knew that Asami didn’t like sweet things, but he remembered all of Akihito’s favourites.  

“Oh.”  

Probably an understatement, but that’s all his brain could think up of.    

Asami clearly thought so too, and arched one of his eyebrows , amused.  

But Akihito couldn’t care less right now. He wasted no time before taking a huge bite of the cake and moaned, closing his eyes. “Dis iz zooooo guut”  

“I don’t understand what you are trying to say.”  

Akihito poked his tongue out at the older man, and took another great mouthful. “ Seriously. Amazing. I think I just saw heaven. You sure you don’t want a bite?”  

“Hmm, maybe I will.”  

Before he could utter another word, Akihito’s head was tilted back, and a mouth crushed against his fervently, taking his breath away.  

Asami pulled back and licked his lips, staring hungrily at Akihito, “Not bad. But I wouldn’t compare this with heaven. Maybe I should show you what heaven really feels like.” He then swooped down to claim the photographer’s lips again. The kiss burned Akihito’s lips, and the heat spread throughout his whole body. His whole being ached for Asami. He twisted his hands around Asami’s neck, pulling them closer. His mouth pressing equally passionately to Asami’s, tasting him  

Without breaking their kiss, Asami scooped Akihito up and carried him to their bedroom, the box of cakes lay long forgotten on the table.  

********************************************************************************  

It was late at night, just before dawn, the darkest time of the day, when Asami’s phone beeped quietly once. The screen flickered to life, its bluish light lit up the ceiling eerily, casting a small, faint blue circle on the ceiling. The light made the shadows more prominent, darker, before disappearing. Asami’s eyes snapped open, and turned his head to look towards Akihito, who was lying across his arms, fast asleep. Gently, he cupped the latter man’s face, slid his arm out and lowered Akihito’s head into the pillow. Standing swiftly and silently, he took a nearby bathrobe, wrapped it loosely around himself, grabbed his phone and left the bedroom. The door closed with a soft click.

“ Kirishima .” Asami’s voiced was clipped. He wasn’t happy to be woken up in the middle of the night.  

“Asami-sama, forgive me for waking you up at this hour, but I do believe that you need to hear this as soon as possible.”

“What is it?” The pair of g olden eyes narrowed slightlybefore he poured himself a tumbler of whiskey without ice, and gulped down a mouthful. The alcohol burn t his throat, and cleared his head.  

Kirishima could hear the displeasure in his boss’s voice, but he knew that his boss would prefer to hear about this as soon as possible. He coughed slightly before resuming. “I believe that we found someone suspicious sniffing around asking about Takaba. The information was all varying. We would need time to confirm who it is, but judging from the amount of work done, it seems to be either a very talented individual or a very small group of people. Their intentions are still unknown at this point, but I thought it would be better to inform you.”

“Arrange someone to guard Akihito 24/7, but do it discretely, don’t let him or anyone else notice them. Keep me updated.”  

“Hai. Goodnight, Asami- sama .”  

The phone beeped, signalling the end of the cal l.  Asami raised the tumbler to his lips, but decided against it. His eyebrows furrowe d, and his eyes flashed dangerously. Someone got a death wish.  

Asami returned to the bedroom quietly. Akihito has sprawled across the bed, arms and legs everywhere, with the duvet twisted around him. A small smile graced upon his face, before his face hardened again. He would sort everything out in the morning. He gently untangled the limbs and duvet, covering Akihito with the blanket, before slipping into the space next to the younger man. Akihito mumbled something about can’t any more, and turned towards Asami. His even breathing was the only sound in the silent room.

***************************************************************************  

*The Next Day*  

Akihito was coming out of the underground parking on his vespa. He had just finished making breakfast when he got a text about a job. He had left the breakfast(traditional Japanese breakfast that the yakuza likes) on the table for Asami , who was still asleep. The sun shone upon him, and the wind blew against his hair that had escaped from his helmet. He clicked the indicator for his right lights, and was ready to turn onto the main road, when suddenly he felt a chill down his spine. He quickly stopped and looked around, but nothing looked out of place. He frowned slightly, but shrugged and decided that maybe he was getting a cold or something, and drove the vespa down the road.  

The shadow in the alley stared a t the road after the photographer had long gone.  

“ Takaba Akihito.” The voice hissed, dripp ing with venom and pure hatred, as if the words itself was acid that burnt his mouth. Then, he took a step back and melted into the shadows.  

[ukaia]

Silent Death

This was an idea from Elizabethnordwell They came up with the original concept, and allowed me to run with the idea. Not to mention they helped me come up with the name for the entire fiction. This is going to be a series, each chapter will be from a different Ego’s POV

I hope you enjoy reading!

Chapter 1 

Marvin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marvin laughed as Jameson scampered along beside him. His eyes lit up with excitement as his speech slider rapidly flickered with his excited words. he was like a hyper little puppy as he waked beside Marvin. The older Ego found it adorable. They had been working at home to help improve his skills with the magic that JJ had. He'd finally was confident that Jameson could perform with out a risk to himself. "I can't believe you're allowing me to be in your magic act! I'm so excited! Do you really think your audience will enjoy what I can offer? " The slider wavered as it came to life, as though his own voice would be warbling with excitement. He couldn't wait!!! However,nerves were running though him, and this was nothing but a rehearsal! Marvin couldn't help but laugh and he gently clapped the dapper lad on the shoulder, amused at the excitement and proud of his little brother. "They will love you Jameson. I know it" he said to him smiling warmly. Jameson's face took on a faint flush. Both from the excitement and the warmth he felt from his brother’s words and confidence. He nodded, and they were at the stage. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ "That's perfect JJ!!" Marvin called out as JJ hit his mark right on time. He was standing from the audience's point of view, letting JJ run though the steps on the stage. Each one needing to be rehearsed so he hit his marks, to keep them both safe while the performance happened. Thankfully with how often he went and helped Chase with his filming, the silent, young Ego was picking up the entire set up quickly. "You're a natural JJ. I might have to hang up my mask! You'll be sure to outshine me on opening night" he joked, pressing a hand dramatically to his heart, as he got back on stage. Jameson looked flustered and shook his head nearly hard enough to knock his hat off. " I could NEVER do that Marvin! My magic isn't nearly as wonderful as yours!“ the slider came to life. Marvin could almost hear the anxious tone and worry though the words. He laughed and pulled Jameson into a hug. His hand rested on the back of Jameson's neck and he wrapped his other arm gently around his brother's back. A quick breather, and a warm assurance of his words. "I think you underestimate yourself Jameson. Your magic skills are wonderful! Mine might be a bit more flashy, but yours are nothing to sneeze at. I am amazed at them" he said to him, his voice quiet but sincere. His hand squeezed gently and he stepped back. Jameson graced him with a shy ,but happy smile. Marvin made a mental note to praise Jameson's magic more often. He should have invited him on stage earlier. But for now, this was a good start! He grinned once more at the other Ego. "Alright, why don't we take a lunch break!! Then we can start up a run with the magic in place shall we?" he asked Jameson. The younger Ego nodded happily and pointed off to the side where he'd made a lunch for the two of them. Marvin laughed in delight and would head off with his brother. Today was going wonderfully! And then... all hell broke loose. While they were doing a dry run, using the magic, performing the spells, something went wrong. Marvin felt like his magic was suddenly wrenched out of his control. The pale blue flames, meant to only hide JJ from the audiences view, was now becoming a deep dark blue. Instead of harmless the flames licked at the young Ego's flesh, burning clothing and skin alike. Marvin stood frozen and then began to move frantically. His hands moved rapidly, the counter spells words flowed like water from his lips. But nothing was happening. The dark blue flames burned and burned and burned the young ego. He had to undo the spell!

-- It wasn't working. Why wasn't it working! He was saying the words right!! The spell should have been undone.!!-- He had to save Jameson!

- Desperation clawed at him as he reached into the flames, grabbing at the charring flesh of his brother. He'd pull him free! If he couldn't get the flames away from him he'd get him away from the flames! He hardly felt the searing flames burning his own clothing, his own flesh getting red and blistered as he struggled to pull the silent boy free--

He had to... save him... ....silence... Every single time that moment plays in his head there's nothing but silence. Every time he watches those innocent blue eyes widen, first with excitement, then worry then fear and finally agonizing pain.. there's not a sound. Not that Jameson could make a sound, but Marvin thought his dreams, at the very least, should give Jameson some voice. Some sound, some form of agonizing scream that would echo in his head and haunt him. A scream that should have shaken the very foundations of the theater they were practicing in. Instead... .... silence... Marvin jerked up right in his bed. His own hands reaching out in desperation before him, trying so very hard to pull someone free from flames that was already long gone. Sweat soaked his clothing, plastering his hair to his forehead and neck. "...Jameson... " the word was croaked out. His throat was sore and scratchy from crying out in his sleep. Thankfully he'd cast the silence spell on his room weeks ago, back when the nightmares had first started. He didn't need to burden the others in their grief with his irrational dreams. He stood, on shaking legs, and got out of the bed. His hands trembled with phantom pain as he picked up a glass of water from his beside table and drank it down. He felt like he was the one with no moisture left in his body. He poured a second cup of water from the jug sitting beside the glass and drank that down rapidly as well. The room temperature water hardly helped to sooth his parched feeling body, but it was a start. When he closed his eyes he could see it all so clearly. As if it was happening right in-front of him...again.  Only the faintest of heavy breathing, struggling to be pulled as Marvin frantically worked to undo what had been done. He was too late though. He was always too late. And that's why Jameson was dead. He wasn't good enough, fast enough, strong enough! He hadn't saved Jameson! A shudder wracked his body and he opened his eyes. He wouldn't be going back to sleep tonight. No matter how tired he was, how much he wanted to sleep. The nightmare would only play over and over for him. His own personal regrets on display for his psyche to torture him with. The funeral had happened a few weeks ago. The sky had simply been grey. Not the cliche of pouring down rain, or the rude bright sunshine. Just... grey, as if even it was in shock that such an innocent had died. A life that shouldn't have been snuffed out, carefully lay in the ground. Ended much, much to early before he even got a chance to properly learn everything! Instead his eyes were closed for good, his smile long gone, buried six feet under the unforgiving earth. Marvin was growing to hate sleeping. He paced his room, his cape discarded to the side, he could hardly stomach to have it around his shoulders anymore. It made him feel like a heavy set of chains were wrapping themselves around his neck, strangling the air from his chest. His mask firmly on his face now, snatched up from it's spot on the bed. His hands worrying though his hair as he paced the room. Sparks of magic flitted to life in response to his emotions. He knew that the dream was a lie. He wasn't the one who'd killed JJ, but he might as well have been! He could have done something! Anything! He had to save him! At least once he needed to save JJ! Marvin stopped short and his eyes widened. that was it.. he'd save JJ! He stood, paused in the moment as the thoughts began to rapidly turn in his head. He turned swiftly and his hand held out before him.

"I can do that.. " he whispered to himself. Then words started to flow from his lips,heavy and thick like poison, the colorful magic slowly fading into a deep violet. This dark colored magic began to twine around his arms. It stung and smarted, leaving a unpleasant feeling of tingles and creepy crawlies behind on his skin. He didn't care, he continued. A tear in the space before him began to open painfully slow. Sweat dripped gently down Marvin's cheek and onto the floor. It was difficult opening this place, but it wasn't supposed to be easy. It held the books he'd found with dark magic. Magic that shouldn't be used, who's price was much higher then it's pay off. But if he could find a way to save JJ then no price was too much. Once the portal was stable his lips curled into a grin, violet light flashing in his eyes and he stepped threw. He'd find a way to save JJ. He'd bring him back, this wasn't going to continue! He would right this wrong! The portal closed with a snap behind him as he stepped though into a room that was sealed off from normal reality, leaving violet sparkles to drift harmlessly to the floor, skittering into the room. If one looked hard enough they seemed to leave a trail of darker floor behind them. Already the corruption was starting for the Magician. But to save his brother.. he'd corrupt himself to the core.  

[pandirpus]

Anders, Klavier Gavin and Yami Yugi?

yooo

Anders:

I’m not too confident in my Anders character voice, combining cynical, flirtatious, dramatic, passionate, self-deprecating, righteous, intense, selfless and judgmental all in one is hard, but I have some themes in mind for writing him post-merging that are important for me to balance.

1. To explore the spectrum that is Justice and Anders, how their characters combine, sometimes evident in the way Anders talks, and sometimes more in more subtle ways. How his emotions resonate and get amplified due to all of “Anders” aligning, since usually all parts of him are of one mind, except in rare cases. How Anders has come to identify differing views, out of tune feelings/thoughts as Justice’s, especially since he knows both parts of himself before they merged. Since their thoughts are now mingled, however, it’s not like he can truly pick them apart, and he might be projecting his own guilt on “Justice” at times.

2. Guilt struggling with his determination, and internalized self-doubt struggling with the certainty of not only Anders, but a spirit who is inherently righteous. 

3. The theme of anger that Anders thinks he needs to suppress, with focus on how he is right in his anger.

4. That Anders is used to navigating the mess that is their combined memories, experiences and the very intense emotions of a spirit and a traumatized, mentally ill mage. How it will get overwhelming and disorienting at times, but especially how Anders manages for all these years.

5. How Anders is not quite mortal, not quite human, not quite a spirit now. How his perception of the world is changed and enriched, the way he feels, the way he sees things, the way his mind works.

-

Klavier, my child, my trash son! Partly stolen from livejournal, but revised. Not meant to be a complete character analysis, but what I keep in mind for his PoV and character voice.

1. Klavier deliberately puts on a show with his exaggerated rockstar persona, complete with his fake German, a passion for poetry and love songs and the air guitar soli. Not saying that he does not enjoy his rock music and his air guitar soli, and he is definitely flirtatious, charming, vain and conceited. But he is also sharp and calculating, not half as generous as one would expect of a rich rockstar prosecutor, and can be quite mean in his teasing. And, what is maybe most important:

2. Klavier is not as easy-going as he’d like people to believe. Despite his attempts to appear casual, Klavier is a perfectionist. He has to meddle in everything and to correct every mistake - also, he does expect everybody he works with to be perfect, too. As a prodigy who became prosecutor with 17 and who’s first hit single won platin overnight, he can’t deal with throwbacks and gets irritable when things go wrong.

3. Klavier is generally polite and political correct, and has very strict moral standards. As a consequence, he has little compassion for those who commit a crime, and is not ready to show any understanding. He can be harsh, and even cold. With his constantly friendly and so very polite attitude, he can be sarcastic and even pretty cutting, as he’s very ready to distance himself from anyone who disappointed him and would cause him pain.

4. Beneath all his superficial flirting, Klavier is actually a true romantic and craves soft and nice things and intimacy. He is all in for romantic gestures and he likes body contact, cuddling, soft kisses and whispering sweet nothings. He does love showing affection and recieving it. He’s a sensitive person, although he can hide a lot of things behind a maybe a bit too bright smile and his flashy attitude.

5. Klavier is aiming to appear and even be straight-forward and uncomplicated, but he is not. Klavier is in denial about a lot of things and trying hard to present himself a certain way, and he’s good at pretending. It’s hard to tell what of all this is fake and what is genuine, since it all has become second nature to him. Most of his issues are related to Kristoph, and while he does sense that there is something wrong, he refuses to take a closer look. It is a simple form of self-protection, because Klavier wouldn’t be able to bear facing the truth.The overall image I have in mind for Klavier is someone smiling brightly while there’s a gaping hole in his chest he is completely oblivious about. Also, someone who is head over heels for Apollo of course, and he’s fallen so hard, he can’t get up. :D

-

Yami Yugi, the puzzle spirit, the mystery, and what I think is important when writing him:

1. He is proud and overly confident, to a fault. He basically radiates confidence when it’s about games/competitions, and since that term is pretty expandable in YGO verse, that applies to a surprising amount of situation. Rocks jewelry and eye liner and extra clothes and capes, and I mean, this boy sat with his legs spread when wearing short skirts on a throne, jesus, single-mindedness plus confidence and obliviousness make him so entirely unselfconscious. Will never back out of anything, will bet his life (and Yugi’s life and body) without even hesitating, will force through even if he got himself in a pinch. When he got himself into an awkward or not-so-good situation, he’ll keep his composure up and just try to will power through it anyway.  It means he relates a lot to trash like Seto Kaiba, as they both speak dramatic duelist language fluently and have ridiculous priorities.

2. When it comes to his friends caring about him and being happy and with him - he’s just happy, pleasantly surprised, like the lonely teenager he actually is. Like, boy, he is so happy and grateful to have friends. Will listen to them, try to learn from them, and be as good as a friend as possible to them. Which means he is very intense about their bond and cherishes it with a very very earnest sincerity. Because he treasures them so much, and he’s very uncertain about his own weird, fleeting existence, he would always step out of the way of their relationships, though, and tries to support Yugi’s feelings toward Anzu and Jou (this is my writing I headcanon what I want) instead.

3. Righteous and harsh in his judgement, but does have questionable criteria and taste in people, since apparently being very serious and intense about duels excuses bad character traits. He’s aware that he himself is flawed and aims to improve himself, though, which does however not make him doubt his judgment at all.Is very biased towards his friends at all times. Not above using his powers and using questionable means of punishment.

4. Cocky and playful, especially during games, but also towards people he is at ease with, combined with being very straight-forward and blunt, and overly serious and intense with a flair for the dramatic.

5. Definitely a dork when it comes to pedestrian, non-competition, non-righteous-judging activities. Will be very curt and look very serious to mask that he’s out of his comfort zone. Not easily flustered by flirting, romance and sex, but oblivious when it applies to himself, both in terms of people crushing on him as well as him crushing on them. Also while not necessarily ace or aro (especially when he’s had his own body and liberty to use it ;), he’s now most of the time massively unintense about and uninterested in anything but games and friends. Avoids talking about insecurities, which includes any uncertainties he has about himself and any issues and problems he has about past decisions, his future, the depths of his soul that are unknown to him, that he is just a spirit lurking around that has been miraculously accepted in this group of friends, etc etc

[squidpro-quo]

As a mini AnS exchange for the discord server, @yukiialice​ and I teamed up to create something on the theme of “Zen’s birthday Banquet”! The absolutely lovely and breathtaking art is from @yukiialice​ and my fic is down below, please enjoy!

Zen scratched at his cheeks and breathed in the smell of perfume, five to be exact, each from a different noble chatting beside him or walking by, wafting their scent like a calling card amidst the crowd. He moved away from where he’d taken up an inconspicuous position leaning against the fireplace and tried to find another spot with a hopefully less cloying atmosphere.

Not that there was much hope of that. The glittering ballroom was crammed with people, dignitaries from small city-states only Izana had gotten the chance to visit, and a never-ending flow of food winding around the edges on islands of silver platters. He ducked under the arm supporting a passing tray of champagne and plucked a glass from the edge: his third of the night. His face felt too warm and the ribbon ends tickled the back of his neck like an unwelcome gaze; two hours of the party was more than enough for him and he still hadn’t managed to escape yet.

“Ah, Zen, I was looking everywhere for your… telltale feathers.” Izana’s voice materialized out of the laughter and clamor of the surrounding revelers much like the owner did. His hands darted from beneath the shimmering cloak of scales cascading over his shoulders and snatched Zen’s glass before the rim could touch his lips. Watching its sparkling contents disappear as Izana tilted his head back, leaving a line of emeralds to glint in the candlelight that bathed his temple, Zen was tempted to try to slip away again.

“Don’t go just yet, the party’s barely started. They’re here for you, after all.” Lowering his arm, Izana dangled the champagne glass between loose fingers, deceptively off-guard as he reached up to adjust his mask of jade-green. Zen wished he’d picked a more colorful one for himself, in the midst of every shade imaginable swirling around them the cream white of his stood out too much for his taste.

“This wasn’t my idea,” Zen muttered, turning to look for another tray on its way past and avoiding Izana’s gaze in one motion.

“It didn’t have to be, birthdays are always a perfect excuse for foreign relations. Clarines will be the talk of the week.”

And it would last till next week too, if Izana had anything to say about it, Zen was sure of it. What good would come of the entire blown-up celebration would make itself clear in a month’s time when he’d be signing the mound of paperwork but until then he can imagine there was some sort of point to what felt like a waste of an evening.

Izana broke him from his silent stupor with a hand on his shoulder and smiled, whispering, “Stay sharp, brother. You can never be certain who’s in attendance.” And with a look of pleasant, if bordering on uncomfortably-shrewd, interest, he swept past to engage a lady adorned with the eyes of a peacock and a fan to match.

Left on his own again, Zen fiddled with the clasp of his collar, regretting the last glass he’d had as his mind pulled at strings of suspicion with every glimpse of eyes on him. If there was a danger at the party then he needed to find it first, before anything could happen to the palace’s security or people.

The ranks closed around him, nothing recognizable or familiar in any of the silk and satin faces forming the mosaic of guests. His own armor was merely stray feathers and a gilded mask, a trick so flimsy it may as well be made of smoke. Pushing a smile onto his face, he headed towards the wall, stepping over expensive fur trains and ruffled capes on his way to a more sedentary spot.

A hand caught him in the side as he passed the dance floor, his heart making the leap up his throat even while he was whirled around by a grip as insistent as steel. His feet found more room once he was pulled into the drifting tide of dancers, but he still had yet to see who’d whisked him away.

Forced to turn his attention to the music lest he end up trampling hems and feet alike, Zen found himself in a line running the length of the floor and facing another row of faceted eyes and ribboned smiles. This dance was at least one he knew the steps to, if only to give him time to find out what had happened.

The dance started, both rows coming close and separating in a slow tease. Zen stared at the mask opposite him, its thin slits hiding any hint of the wearer’s eyes while the gold thread running through their charcoal-dark tunic was only visible when he was a few inches away. For all that his costume stood out, the other’s was just plain enough for the eye to skip over if the odd glint of the cape’s underside didn’t draw their attention instead. But Zen didn’t get the chance to speak before the dance had already moved on, lines weaving between each other with partners switching every few measures of the twining music.

His first partner’s hands scraped his palm with her sharp, purple nails, gripping his proffered arm like a hawk’s talons. Passing her on wasn’t much of a relief when the next partner loomed above him, leaving him in shadow until the music marked the next switch.

A gloved hand slipped into his, sure and firm, though that confidence didn’t extend down to her feet. The barest of hesitation before the complicated steps gave her away. Zen looked up from the golden brocade edging brushing the floor and into eyes that could rival the color of Izana’s emeralds and smile tucked underneath her mask.

“How— “ He was cut off as the music swelled and the next partner stepped forward, pulling her away before he could say any more.

His eyes stayed on her back, the ribbon trailing in her wake all he could see even as he craned his neck, staring over his partner’s shoulder until he felt a nudge in his side.

“People will think you’ve found someone of interest,” the amused voice of his dark counterpart from the beginning pulled him back to the steps he’d trusted his feet to know and the hard edge he felt as his fingers brushed his partner’s side.

“Obi,” he said, fighting back a grin, “You both made it in here?”

“Miss wanted to wish you a happy occasion,” Obi’s cape flared as he made a turn around Zen, “And there’s plenty of fangs underneath the velvet in this room. Wouldn’t want an accident to happen.”

Zen’s anxious miasma dissipated as he and Obi kept in step, dancing around each other within arm’s reach, and he had the chance to look around without the urge to keep checking over his shoulder. They had circled the room, the whirling dancers giving them more space to move and see through the crowd to the edges. Passing the open balcony doors, a sweet smell touched his nose, of wisteria and the promise of spring. Something he could count on to enjoy during his birthday, a quiet but steady smell with nothing overly flashy with its flowers or bright fruits, just a reminder wafting in through the open windows while he worked.

He felt a tug on his hand and a slight touch at the small of his back, all it took to steer him outside and into a softly lit garden ringed in slender columns wreathed with flowering vines. The party’s incessant chatter and noise ebbed away, dampened amidst the leaves and petals until it was just the three of them. Shirayuki pulled her mask down, smile in full bloom as she looked around at the arrayed colors of nature’s own silken gown before turning back to Zen.

“Happy birthday, Zen,” she lifted the hem of her dress, gold shoes peeking from underneath, “I’d have brought your gift along but it wouldn’t have survived the pockets on this dress.”

“I think it’s the dress that would have found it hard to survive,” Obi quipped from where he leaned against one of the columns with his own mask pushed up into his hair and hiding a laugh at Shirayuki’s rueful look.

The tension in Zen’s shoulders eased as he watched them joke with each other, Obi blocking the balcony’s entrance with his dark silhouette and Shirayuki resplendent in the light, both here with him when he’d thought himself alone against the tide of revelers. It was easy to forget in the usual stream of days how much they permeated his life but in those times when their presence made all the difference, he was grateful that they managed to find their way to him anyway. Pulling a flower closer, he dipped his head and traced the delicate spiral of petals where they met in the center.

“How did you get in?” he finally asked the question that had been burning on his tongue ever since he first recognized them.

Obi and Shirayuki exchanged glances, before they began to talk at once.

“A little mischief— “

“We can’t say exactly— “

“It was my brother, wasn’t it,” Zen cut in, not bothering to make it a question and surprised at the warmth that spread through him. Izana might milk every last opportunity for diplomacy from the simplest thing, but now that he remembered that self-satisfied smile over the rim of a wineglass, he knew it couldn’t have been anyone else’s doing.

Brushing off his pants, he turned to pluck two sprigs from the bush whose fronds had tickled his senses earlier, tucked them into his pocket and gestured to the other two.

“May I have another dance?”