#they HAD THE MASTER EMERALD IN THEIR GRASP. all of its power. they could control it. they could have TAKEN it

[aphantimes]

hey did you know that the sonic adventure perfect guide has a part written from the perspective of researchers who speculate that the surviving members of the knuckles clan after chaos' rampage split into two groups

did you know that one group of these survivors made the decision to create angel island using the master emerald. they willingly isolated themselves from the world to ensure this never happened again. they had the power to control the master emerald and chose a sacrifice to benefit the rest of the world instead of being conquerors like they were under pachacamac.

did you know that the in-universe researchers speculate that the second group stayed on the surface to pass down the knowledge of the disaster to future generations.

meaning it may very well be possible that there are some echidnas still alive out there. and if not then there's definitely room to explore what the heck happened to make both groups eventually disappear. were their numbers just too low to be sustainable? did some other disaster befall them? ghhh how often i think about this.....

[unravellingsilencehq]

“Oh, Merlin, tell me, does THE DEVIL get what he deserves?” He is in THE DEATH EATERS & CLOSED to finding out. 

— he walks through the world as ;

name → larkin mulciber pronouns → he/him identification → cis male year of birth → september 1959 - september 1960 face claim → woo do hwan blood status → pure-blood sexual orientation → up to applicant occupation → socialite amongst high society in wizarding london future information → n/a

— he is best described as ;

The King of SHADOWS and GOLD, he is the OMINOUS DREAD held in unwelcome prying eyes looming in the never ending cold and the CHILLED SHIVER running down the back of necks on a pitch BLACK NIGHT. A TORMENTED SOUL, the bruised boy of woe is MANIPULATIVE yet harbors REGRETS. The PUPPETEER toying with unwilling victims strings; like a SPIDER drawing blood after it drives its prey to pure INSANITY.  

— his story starts with ;

tw: abuse, tw: death, tw: blood

Born to Kyung Mulciber, a man as hateful as he was cunning, Kyung single handedly raised Larkin in disgrace. Bred a tormented soul, he was branded the Grim Reaper. Yeong, the light of Kyung’s life, took her last breath at Larkin’s first, casting bitterness into the family’s hearts. Without a single word of kindness, Larkin was resented by those supposed to grace him with care. Interactions were met with hostility and volatile anger; even from the likes of the house elves who once idealised their mistress. Growing in the fall of his mother’s glory, hidden in the secluded mountains of the Lake District enchanted barriers kept the Mulciber manor secluded from unwelcome guests. Isolated and with a severe lack of love, Larkin’s youth was spent whispering secrets to spiders dangling off chandeliers. With his father absent and cold, Larkin tried earnestly to grasp onto pieces of a parent. Hours spent by candle light in the family library, from archives detailed in gold and towering family portraits, he formed a fragmented image. A woman once powerful, resilient and beautiful, illuminated in piercing emeralds that matched her eyes; his late mother. Someone he thought could have loved him, if only Morgana had been kind.

With wealth and a line as Pure-Blooded as The Sacred-Twenty Eight, the family reveled in entitlement. Renowned for possessing an aptitude for the dark arts, purist rhetoric was laced in their lives from dusk till dawn. Breeding chaos, while Kyung praised ERIS MULCIBER [sister] and JAE MULCIBER [brother] in glory, Larkin was cursed into strife. Like his siblings, he was taught not what beauty magic held, but what power. Growling voices with a tone as sharp as poison scorned him, disapproving glares reflected in the shattered mirrored walls of the Mulciber ballroom turned training arena, distorted and manic as his father’s teachings turned cruel. Harnessing darkness, unregistered Gregorovitch wands concealed their illegal activities from the Ministry of Magic, enabling them to continue their legacy of turmoil all while slipping through the grasps of the law. The eldest Eris, channeled anger into the Cruciatus curse. Second born, Jae’s handsome features acted as the perfect deception for the master of death; with Avada Kavarda being his speciality. Leaving Larkin to master the complexity of the mind and the Imperius curse. Divine and divisive, the family were notorious for playing Merlin himself as they manipulated powers beyond their control. Together, the trio made a master of sin and torment. 

Desperate for gratification, Larkin’s sensibility grew cruel in a plight to prove his worth. Cursing the house elves with a flick of his finger, he left them dangling on the ceiling with a twisted grin all for a glimmer of respect to flicker in his fathers eyes. The more souls he puppertered, the more praise he received. Forging himself into a sinner to gain what he could only dream of; acceptance from his father. While his siblings attended Durmstrang, Kyung claimed his talent would be better suited to that of Hogwarts. Speaking of a wizard whom he once schooled with, THE DARK LORD [leader] dreamed of a world where those inferior would finally know their place. Entrusted, Larkin vowed to find those as equally wicked. Cunning as the devil, the sorting hat barely graced his head before announcing his rightful place in Slytherin. Gaining respect for his damming schemes; Larkin was renowned as the king of chaos. JASPER AVERY [best friend], though entitled and held little promise in Larkin’s eyes of matching his wits, made a reputable ally. Second in their ranks was SEVERUS SNAPE [best friend], despite his Half-Blood status, his intellect was more akin to his own. The trio became notoriously known for their vile pranks on those they deemed unworthy to study magic. 

Consumed with desire to appease his family, Larkin fell into a kingdom of darkness. Until he met them. MARY MACDONALD [former partner] was everything he wasn’t. Kind hearted with a warm disposition, if Larkin was the king of the underworld, Mary was the beautiful wix dancing above. A Muggle-Born and friend of annoyances JAMES POTTER [adversary], SIRIUS BLACK  [adversary], REMUS LUPIN [adversary] and PETER PETTIGREW [adversary] , Jaspar dared him to bring the sweet creature to ruin. What had started as a ploy to break the wix’s heart, turned into a secret relationship hidden in the shadows of the clocktower. Despite himself, he fell in love with Mary. Intoxicated by their light and the only person to ever bring warmth to his cold heart, Larkin grew desperate in his attempts to keep their love a secret. Despite efforts, PERSEPHONE WILKES [friend/rival] caught a stolen glimpse between the pair. Outraged that he’d betrayed the sanctity of magic, she deemed him a blood-traitor for his adoration for a filthy mudblood. Threatening to expose them with her wand pointed to his throat, despite Mary’s obstinate belief that love conquered all; Larkin knew that even a rumor would open them to cruelty. With Persephone’s threats lingering over his head, logically he knew the only way to guarantee their safety was to make an example of them. 

Plotting in an aid to set them free; Larkin encapsulated them in his arms and stole one last kiss before uttering ‘Imperio’. Instantly Mary’s love faded to a vacant expression; leaving them completely at his disposal. Encouraged by Jasper’s twisted grin, they killed Flinch’s cat, Mary’s hands covered in blood, and set off to their final destination; The Black Lake. Floating like Ophelia, Larkin was moments from sinking Mary into the water’s when LILY EVANS [adversary] found them. Concentration broken, Mary’s piercing screams of terror echoed around the grounds cutting Larkin’s heart like a knife. Expelled, he left Hogwarts donned a hero by purists. But for once, he didn’t feel pride in his actions. Finishing his final years of education at Durmstrang, Larkin dove into his studies with cruel intent. Named a lone wolf by peers, while the school harbored those residing in darkness; none held Larkin’s power. Wandless magic for unforgivable curses was rare and known by few, including the Muclibers who left many pleading for mercy with a mere curl of their hand. Stalking dark alleys in his black jacket embossed with scales, Larkin sunk his teeth into the pits of hell daring it to fight back. Gone were the flowers Mary had once laid, left only an empty chasm of a man; unhinged and dangerous with little left to lose. 

While his others prided their superiority through status, Larkin’s talents made him a vital recruit into The Dark Lord’s army; becoming an esteemed member in the fight for the new world. Settling on the outer banks of London with a heart rotted black, darkness swarms like a whirlpool in his chest. Under the orders of BELLATRIX BLACK [mentor], Larkin is gathering information on those who could cause complications to The Dark Lord’s plans. Sniffing out Blood-Traitors, Larkin is playing the unsuspected in a plight to move up in the ranks. GILFRED ABBOTT [victim] was the perfect victim for his scheme. Suspecting little when questions from Larkin’s lips instead left the young Gryffindor’s; his sweet demeanor acts as the perfect mask to torment. Though as charmed as his antics are, he has his sights set on bigger fish; DOUGAL MCKINNON [rival], COINNEACH MCKINNON [rival], NATHAIR MCKINNON [rival] and MARLENE MCKINNON [rival], a family seeking to devalue pure-blood legacy by allowing a muggle-born into their ranks was the perfect target to finally bring him to glory. While the other McKinnon siblings shout for equality, Larkin has his eyes set on the brother that prefers the shadows than the light. Calculating his plans, he knows Nathair will be the undoing of the family, if only he pulls on the right set of strings.

— he is a LEVEL 7 WIZARD & readied for war ;

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

How would yandere Deku react to reader having the power of whatever she writes, comes true? Be it a story, or something like that? Oh and whenever she writes fantasy like stories, the worlds actually get created just like she describes in the story and her characters come true as well

Yandere Deku x Writemaker Reader

Student Deku- your quirk would be a major point of interest for him. You can make anything come into existence as long as you write or draw it? I mean who wouldn't be interested at the very least? Being in class with you while attempting to master one-for-all is a bit of a blow to any of his advancements. He is a little jealous at first but the more he gets to know you the more he feels drawn to meet your level. If you do start falling behind in class from your lack of growth he is willing to sacrifice hours on end to come up with ways for you to use your quirk to the upmost. "What is this?" Invited by your mumbling classmate and acquaintance to his room you arrived expecting to help out with a simulated training what you weren't ready for was a detailed story about a love blossoming between your two teachers. "I-its a fan-fiction," he said it like it was a normal thing. Sputtering when your head only tilted in confusion. "L-like a fake story with characters you already know. I-i'm pretty sure if you wrote something with your drawings you could advance-" "Bet. Watch this green bean." He awkwardly sat next to you, who was sitting criss-cross on the floor with your notepad. Your (e/c) flicked from right to left as you diligently wrote. Izuku couldn't help scooching even closer to see what you were writing but before he could you pulled your notebook to your chest and looked at him accusingly. He waved his hands in a silent sorry while you were finishing up. When you were done you closed your book and held it to your chest, looking expectedly at the student across from you. He couldn't help but buckle under your intense gaze of happiness that had smiling behind your back. In a second he felt a warmth engulf him before being pulled by some invisible force to you with his hand outstretched. Worried he would be force to hit you he looked away internally kissing away any chance he had with you, stopping when he hears mischievous laughter. One by one his emerald eyes stare at the state in which both your hands are in. "Goodness Mido-chan! Holding hands before marriage? How scandalous!" He fought his embarrassment, loosing as he practically melted at your touch; meanwhile you were laughing at your own successs. He fought a whimper as you release your grip for your pen watching as you grasped this new.facet of your quirk. "Hu-hu-hu with this I can finally make him bend to my will. He-he-he Katsuki Bakugo-he-he- couldn't keep his feelings for his best friend, Kirishima, secret any longer so he-" You went on detailing the love story between the class jerk and the rock confessing to each other all the while maniacly laughing. While Aoyama who couldn't help but hear you while walking to Izuku's dorm was backing away in fear Izuku was beside himself. He had to control his breathing as he began to heave at the heat that lingered all because of you. Needless to say Izuku will recognize that right now You are the strongest and it is an honor to be anything to you. Now whether you'll actually love him or not he's always going to have your back. He'll always be willing to always be behind you if he gets to see you happy.

Hero Deku- If he meets you as an adult he's able to control himself a lot better but fighting along side you is truly an experience. If your not a hero your chaotic-good mastering your ability to create street art that patrols or aggressively pursues pick-pockets. The hero association sicks Izuku on you like a dog expecting to take you out at the mere mention. But he did the exact opposite he for whatever reason seemed to play into your wild and unpredictable nature. You want to make it rain cotton-candy kitties? Sure I'll try catching them all! You want your giant tiger to swallow that criminal for pirating a Cd? I'm all for it! Want to cuddle while this crime boss pummels other hero then wait till the last second to step in? No was never an option! Much to the association's chagrin the media eats this up like candy. Debates being centered around the love story that has yet to be. The association resigns to the idea that this is just his way of appeasing your ridiculous behavior. Unbeknownst to them that after awhile this was Izuku's requirement to do anything. Like a spoiled child he demanded more from you in exchange for something else. Save the world from an incoming meteor? Give me kisses. Save the bad guy from certain death? Only if you promise to sit in my lap Actually be a hero? Only if you marry me. Long story short Izuku is more willing to throw his weight around to get you to do what he wants. He wants you, so to try an avoid this burden is practically impossible.

Villain Deku- if your not already a villain no doubt you will be kidnapped or at least he'll try. Nothing more to him then another file in a pile sending his henchmen off to retrieve you for your quirk is no big deal. He does become annoyed when you continue to avoid capture and that's when he sends one of his right-hand men; only to have to bail them out of jail instead. He'll settle to actually stalking you himself with full intentions to really make you suffer but now you've become an image of heroes that he hasn't seen in a long time. He doesn't hate it when you completely ignore the press. Or that he's caught you scheming on how to keep your ranking low. And he admires the projects you have at schools to stop bullying, empower the quirkless, and just helping others make friends. He especially didn't hate that you took your anger out on human like dummy. Or even that you often contemplated wrecking havoc to the city. He LOVED All OF IT! As exciting of a revelation this is for him he can't help but continue with his narrative of using your quirk. Not only does it leave no body questioning him when he goes to stalk you but it keeps them all off his back when in civilian clothes he attempts to woo you. Whether you accept a whirlwind romance with a hunky stranger or a steady dating scene he'll reveal himself oneday with no intention of letting you leave. Quirk bracelet, tying your hands or you actually accepting him your not going anywhere. If you don't agree to fully commit to being a villain then into your locked tight living space. He'll make time for you and if you retaliate he's willing to bet your freedom on a fight. Wanting to squash his tiny weed of inferiority he'll release you to fight for your freedom. If you win, he will go back to stalking you just more vigorously than before. If you lose he'll be satisfied and he'll loosen your restrictions. Give you an acre to roam, some children to babysit, and when he is home drown you in whatever brings your pleasure.

[random-tinies]

Sea and Sky and Stupid Decisions

hi there! bio anon here, wanted to post a thing i made in the mcyt g/t discord here. it was initially just a little prompt but it ended up spiraling out of control ;P this is about 1 parts noms story to 3 parts legend myth, because i haven’t any idea how to write noms without plot ;P

(thanks again for letting me submit this to you!!)

content warnings for: soft vore, fearplay, major injury (not delved into at all), blood (also not delved into much)

The sea is vast and unforgiving. It holds no master, it does not bargain or hold grudges, it simply takes and gifts as it pleases, a bringer of life and freedom and of death and deep crushing depths all at once. It is unknowable to mortal minds.

It can also, on occasion, be extremely stupid in its decision making.

The sea god, in the form of a vast whale shark, had been gliding through his domain with a peaceful certainty of his power. The sun beat down upon his vast spotted back, glittering the stripes of gold and emerald that signified his divinity along his fins. The vast open ocean was where he was most powerful, most tricky to deal with. Along the calmer coral reefs and kelp forests and shallow shores of his domain there was the certainty of land beneath you, even if it was buried under the ocean tides. In the open ocean you were a puppet to the playing tides, the world went on endlessly beneath and above you, and if you were in danger there was nothing you could do but plead to the ocean for a mercy that he never felt too inclined to give. 

The sea god had been making his way, with the endless patience of the filter feeder he was taking the form of, towards a tiny wooden boat bobbing like a toy atop his ocean. It was always fun to snap up a couple of mortals from their refuges at the surface, to remind them that their fear of the sea is not unfounded. It was a little surprising though that there was one all of the way out here - the main village trade routes generally kept to the shorelines in fear of his capricious nature. This mortal was either very brave or very lost.

It didn’t matter. The sea god swam languidly towards the tiny toy contraption, and however many creatures were inside of it.

He shifted into a sea serpent’s shape as he got closer, allowing the mortal the dubious honor of seeing its own doom approaching in the form of almost a kilometer long stretch of scales and fins, far more vast than even the greatest of the sea god’s creatures.

The psychic scent of a mortal in a deep panic, of a fearful and desperate prayer being sent out, made him grin. Then the sea god surfaced in a blast of surf and, in one bite, entrapped the boat and crushed the wooden frame like it was little more than a splinter. The sea god sank below the waves that were pushed up by his arrival, descending into the depths to play with this mortal.

The first thing he did was shrink down from his vast form into something a little more manageable. The scent of fear and terror and faster prayers (too late little mortal. You are in my domain now) made him decide on something that would tease even more terror from it. He chose an enormous shark, one with rows and rows of teeth that oh-so-carefully shredded the boat further, releasing the mortal from it and spitting out the remains of the pathetic ship. 

It flailed in his mouth, and he could feel the texture of feathers and wings. Perhaps the mortal had been bringing birds with it. Feathery little ground-fowl that were so beneath him he could hardly feel their presence. He amused himself in the mortal’s pathetic struggles for a moment longer, before opening his mouth and gulping in an enormous swallow of sea water that washed the mortal down into his gullet. It continued to struggle all the while, and he was starting to really like it’s fear. Just the tiniest hint of useless hope in the center of it to make it persist even when the mortal was all but dead. 

He swam for a long while in the indigo blue deep sea, indulging in the feeling of struggle and burning land-based life in the middle of his domain. But… hm, he could go more with this. The mortal had remained remarkably resilient and active in its useless hope, and he wanted to see if he couldn’t tease out any more reactions from it before it eventually perished.

He started slowly, shrinking from the enormous shark into a massive tuna fish with scales lined in emerald, and felt with it the movements of the mortal get arrested in his stomach. The once large space it had been flailing in had decreased dramatically, and he could tell it was nervous about that. 

Then he shrank further, into an oarfish with trailing fins of gold glitter. Its long snake-like body compressed the mortal further, and it had started struggling again for a different reason than before. The sea god whipped around joyously at the feeling, spurring from his erratic movements another wave of fear. 

Finally, the sea god shrank further still into the form of an elder guardian, its spiny scales shivering and clicking as the size of the mortal within him pushed out against the organs that crowded close around it. He lazily made his way back to the surface, the warm sun once again comforting on his back. He was done with this mortal, and the way it curled up tight within him was satisfying enough that he desired nothing more from it. Soon he would let it die, or descend further into the depths and allow the ocean to crush it more thoroughly than any animal’s stomach could. 

It was there, lying at the surface of the open ocean, shivering alabaster scales as the mortal seemingly never ran out of energy to push on the god around it, that the sea god was interrupted. 

And lo, the sky ripped asunder and the heavens fell and in their wake the Goddess of the Continuation After stepped upon the ocean god’s calm sea, shepherded not by her faithful acolyte.

And She said unto the ocean god -

“Release him from your grasp, he is not yours to take.”

And the ocean god smiled and transformed into an enormous dragonfish, and spoke to Her on the sea breeze.

“Deaths at sea are my domain, dear sister goddess. I do not tell you who not to take on land or sky, you should not insult me to insist you take from my oceans too.”

And She said in return, “that is my messenger and lover, my Angel who harkens my power. I demand his safe return to me.”

And the ocean god said - “wait shit really?”

If he weren’t so caught up in playing with the mortal in such a way, the sea god supposed he would have realized that the feathers that had tickled his mouth had continued to persist, pressed up against a wall of his stomach. Not a simple ground bird’s plumage, but a vast creature’s wingspan. Wings fit for an angel. 

It (he? The god supposed he would need to no longer think of it as a simple mortal) had renewed its struggles with more vigor than even before, hearing its Lady’s voice. 

Despite the sea god’s surprise and Her demands, he felt anger build in him. The angel had been foolish enough to travel his seas, he should accept the risks that are brought with it. She had allowed her attendant worshipper to leave Her all-seeing sight - clearly She didn’t care about it that much. Gods can be territorial over what they own, and clearly this was just a case of the sea god taking a toy that She decided She still wanted.

And so, in his infinite wisdom, the sea god bared jagged glass teeth at the Goddess of What Comes After and refused to relinquish the angel to Her. 

“I am fond of Your angel now. He has travelled with me to the depths of the ocean, and witnessed my power and myriad of beautiful creatures. I think I would like to keep him, dear sister.”

The Goddess raised Her wings of ebony and jet, and scavenging carrion birds that did not belong in the domain of the open ocean fled from Her and trailed into the sky.  She said to the sea god - 

“Do not become a fool, brother god. You will let my Angel go, or I may tear him from your gut. I will scatter your blood to all of the oceans of the world, and let your own creations feast upon you as you have feasted upon what is Mine.”

The sea god dropped his guise of the beasts of the sea, and in the form of a man wrought in gold and emerald he rose from the waters to stand before the Lady of the Lost. The two mighty gods clashed, tearing the sea and sky with their battle as the Goddess seeked to take back what was Her’s and the sea god desired to keep what he had claimed.

Their struggle only ended when the Angel, fearful and hurt by the pain his Lady had received in the fight and the harm that had come to himself from within the sea god, cried out. The Goddess of the Unforgiving Conclusion drew up a vast sword of midnight and tore the sea god open from the back.

From the god’s divine blood, the Angel emerged unharmed from his Goddess’ attack, and fled from the grasp of the wounded sea god into the great swarm of carrion birds that circled above.

The Goddess cast the sea god into the dark depths of the ocean, and wiped her sword of deep black clean. Where the droplets of divine blood hit the earth, all over the world, lay the tiniest portion of the sea god’s power in totems of gold and emerald. Where it hit the sea great pyramids of prismarine grew around it to celebrate its power. Now with his power broken into a thousand pieces, the sea god fled into the depths of the ocean, and he knew himself to be foolish for having tried to fight Her.

He never was quite the same from that day forward. The sea, his domain, was never fully his anymore. The wound along his back, struck to slice his gut open and release the mortal, never truly healed and even in the many shapes of the creatures of the sea it was still visible as a deep black scar. 

In penitence for his childish stupidity he stepped up onto the shores that he had so despised for so long and, in the form of both a shark and a man, he tried to learn about the mortals that lived outside of his open ocean waters for the first time. 

He had been foolish, and as such he didn’t deserve to rule the seas he had before. Perhaps though, one day, he can regain this title. Perhaps he could be reborn into this role, if the Lady so permits.

If the Angel forgives him, he may find his way back to the sea again.

.

.

.

AAAAAAAAAAAA *stimming on my desk* THIS IS SO COOL???? BIO, THIS IS AWESOME OIHUGYUFT I’M HONORED TO POST IT HERE 🤩 HOW?? DO YOU WRITE SUCH MASTERPIECES???? THIS IS SUCH AN AMAZING ORIGIN MYTH FOR TOTEMS AND OCEAN MONUMENTS AND FOOLISH!!! I will be thinking about this for days. Incredible uwu Thank you so much for blessing us all ohuigyuty GAh THIS MAKES ME HAPPY!!

[viacursecasting]

A Blooming Mistake.

{ Read on AO3 }

Summary: Sonic is hiding his hybrid roses, meant for someone special, but Shadow's determined to uncover the truth...

In a way rivals know best.

~

Radiant light of the full moon streaked through the leafy embraces of forest branches, illuminating freckles upon the well-trodden path for the cobalt quilled hero. His buckled cherry shoes crunched upon dried foliage as he ambled toward his destination. Normally he would’ve utilized his renowned speed, but he was wary of disturbing any critters peacefully slumbering in their nests. Even so, as he heard the pitter-patter of startled animals, he cupped the corner of his lip with a gloved hand, whispering apologies into the darkness.

As he clutched a shovel in one hand and a basket of rose stems in the other, he continued onward through mossy trees and flowering bushes until he reached a clearing, grassy and kempt, overlooking the vast sea, which stretched across the horizon to kiss the distant mountains. The serenade of gentle waves lapping against the cliffside soothed his upright ears. A spring breeze combed through his quills. He inhaled deeply, the aromatic scent filling his nostrils, the air so briny he could practically taste its salt upon his tongue. Moonlight reflected divinely across the waves, a sparkle rivaled only by his toothy grin. No matter how many times he trekked here, it always felt like the first.

Refreshed from admiring the landscape, he then glanced at the bundle of stems in hand. This species was a unique hybrid, one that bloomed crimson petals with ebony splatters. The hedgehog recalled the laborious hours he poured into growing these for weeks on end—planting monochrome roses adjacently, watering them each day, breeding the resulting hybrids into super hybrids, not to mention the painstaking chore of pulling out weeds and debris by burying his knees in the dirt. If the buds successfully bloomed, he would take it as a sign to pursue his crush. Was all this effort going to be worth it?

More importantly, could he handle the answer?

As he set the woven basket down he simply… stared. At nothing in particular. Why he couldn’t bring himself to start the final stage of planting the crossbred stems, he didn’t know. He groaned, rubbing his temples as if just now realizing what a ridiculous idea this was.

What are you doing here?

He thought his inner voice was berating him until his ears perked at the unmistakable sound of a familiar, confident gait.

“I said, what are you doing here?”

He swore his heart raced faster than his feet ever have as he peered into the forest, searching for the source of the low voice. Then, as if materializing from the shadows, a jet black lifeform stepped into view, his rosy highlights complementing his fiery gaze.

“Shadow?” The royal blue hedgehog blinked repeatedly to make sure his emerald eyes weren’t playing tricks on him from lack of sleep.

Once he realized this was no illusion, Sonic discreetly held the shovel behind his quills, subtly adjusting his footing to hide the basket at his heels. But there was no fooling his dark counterpart, who analyzed his body language suspiciously.

Shadow crossed his arms. His cool and collected tone sent chills down Sonic’s spine. “Don’t toy with me, hedgehog. What are you hiding?”

“Nothing!” Sonic blurted. “What are you hiding?”

The agent rolled his carmine eyes at the feeble attempt to deflect the question. As he took several steps closer he glanced toward his rocket skates, feeling the ground get considerably flatter, devoid of twigs and stones. He observed, “This clearing appears to have been tended to.”

Sonic laughed nervously. “Nature at its finest, I guess.”

“Is that so?” Shadow humored him. The closer he got to his parallel, the softer the earth felt with every step. “I suppose nature also watered this specific plot despite having no rain all week?”

Sonic glimpsed skyward, feigning a motion as if he felt a raindrop despite the unassuming clouds. “It could start pouring any minute. We should head back—”

He stifled a breath as Shadow, nose to nose with Sonic, scrutinized him as if he could find the answer in his irises, green as a hill zone. Suddenly he reached around Sonic’s waist, fingers brushing against the underside of his back spikes.

Sonic’s muzzle reddened intensely. “Wait, what are you—?”

Shadow seized the digging tool from his rival’s grip. “Look what we have here.” He chided with a smirk, “Shame on you, hedgehog. Wrecking the beauty of nature so you can play buried treasure.”

“This isn’t a game!” Sonic cried. “Now give that back!”

Shadow kept his foe at bay with an extended arm against his chest. As Sonic clawed the air in an attempt to retrieve the shovel just out of reach, the agent spotted the basket of greenery at Sonic’s contrasting sneakers. Shadow halted, curiosity getting the better of him as his counterpart finally yanked the tool from his grasp.

But that was the least of Shadow’s worries.

Before he could get a closer look inside the rattan basket, a glowing streak of cyan made it disappear and then reappear a few feet away in Sonic’s grip.

Shadow glared at the speedster, at first with annoyance. Why would he hide a few measly plants? Then it dawned on him. Slowly his expression turned into one of horror, staring wide-eyed at the so-called hero.

But Sonic paid no mind as he refused to make eye contact, red with embarrassment. He could practically feel that scarlet gaze burning his azure fur. “Please, Shadow. Just go home.”

“Sonic.”

Shadow said it with such bleeding concern that his sapphire twin regarded him. Aghast, the ebony hedgehog paled as if he’d seen a ghost, troubling Sonic. “Stop looking at me like that, Shads. You’re scaring me.”

Shadow ignored the request. “Is that what I think it is?”

Sonic tightened his clammy grip on the wicker handle. “What do you think it is?”

Shadow’s hesitation was brief, as if his hypothesis would somehow become true if he voiced his suspicions. “Performance-enhancing drugs.”

Sonic laughed at the notion. He had never touched a drug let alone taken one. He wasn’t even sure he knew what one looked like. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“That’s why you’ve been so secretive,” Shadow mulled distantly, rubbing his fingers under his chin as if he solved the case. “Either you plan on outperforming me, or you’ve been taking these to get on my level.”

Sonic’s expression twisted into one of confusion. “What? No! You’ve got it all wrong!”

Shadow remained skeptical, requiring proof. His eyes bore into his foe like daggers stained crimson. “Then hand it over,” he demanded, the golden power inhibitor on his wrist gleaming menacingly around his outstretched hand.

Sonic’s heart seized at the thought. His fingers clenched the woven handle so tightly he nearly bled. He swallowed before replying, “I can’t.”

Neither of them wavered. Not even the void’s icy breeze could make them flinch. Was that the wind or Sonic’s internal cry for help?

Then Shadow sighed, tightening his gloves as if foreseeing this outcome. “I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.”

In a flash he leapt forward, trailing an amber aura in his wake. Sonic’s mind deconstructed the act in slow motion, perceiving Shadow’s feet leave the ground, his limbs curl into a ball, his attack home in on Sonic’s beating organ.

Sonic dropped his possessions, steeling himself to block the spindash with crossed arms, the force so powerful his heels dug trenches in the dirt. He grunted with the effort of holding Shadow off as the high-pitched rev of the spinball deafened his ears. It was like preventing a screeching tire from burning rubber on his vitals.

Seeing as this was getting him nowhere, Shadow performed a backflip, landing gracefully on his feet. “Hmph. I’m just warming up.”

Sonic chuckled, stretching his legs like a marathon runner in a show of confidence. “Sure thing, faker,” he emphasized, knowing this would warrant some aggression.

Shadow couldn’t help but clench his fist with ire, drawing his arm back before zooming forward with a punch.

The blue blur easily sidestepped to dodge but Shadow expected this, extending another blow at the last second, hitting his opponent square in the jaw.

Sonic reeled back, more out of shock than pain, rubbing the soreness away. Regardless, he found himself smiling. It wasn’t often he brawled someone who matched his abilities. After crushing laughable badniks for days on end, he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t itching for some excitement. “Lucky shot.”

“Calculated shot,” the agent corrected. “Are you as slow in the brain as you are with your feet?”

Sonic gasped dramatically, tossing the back of his hand to his forehead. “Alas! You have discovered my fatal flaw!” He bowed humbly. “Teach me, O Wise One.”

Just as Sonic was about to straighten, his opposer kneed him in the abdomen. He doubled over with a groan, sinking to his knees.

“Lesson one,” Shadow advised, “never let your guard down.”

In his kneeling position, Sonic took the opportunity to grab Shadow’s ankle and yank him to the dirt, knocking the wind out of him as he landed on his back. Shadow coughed, attempting to regain control of his lungs as Sonic loomed over him, boasting, “Lesson two, surpass the master.”

Shadow sprung to his feet. Meanwhile Sonic revved up into a concussive ball, billowing dust, and charged forward to knock over his contender like a bowling pin. But Shadow performed a handless frontflip like a gold-medal gymnast, easily dodging it.

“Chaos Spear!”

Upon hearing Shadow’s battle cry, Sonic serpentined throughout the clearing to avoid numerous bolts of energy the agent’s palms emitted. But no matter how quickly Shadow fired, Sonic managed to evade every shot by a hair.

At one point the blue blur skidded to a halt, and suddenly a glowing spear jutted out of a tree right before his face.

Sonic let out a nervous chuckle, grateful to still have a nose. “Someone’s getting antsy.”

He ducked in the nick of time to avoid a jet-boosted roundhouse kick to the head. Sonic then swept his leg to trip his assailant, but to no avail as Shadow leapt high into the air, backlit by the witnessing moon, before clasping his hands together to pummel Sonic into the ground.

CRUUUSH!

The hero narrowly somersaulted clear, shaking dirt from his quills. When he looked up to see the crater Shadow formed with his fists, his stomach churned. “Whoa, Shads, take it easy!”

Tired of this dance, the lifeform was tempted to execute a Chaos Blast right then and there, but instead he sneered, “Not until I get what I want.”

He dashed forward. His parallel instinctively did the same. However, a vine caught Sonic’s toe, hurtling him straight into Shadow. The hedgehogs were a mass of flailing punches and kicks, their limbs a blur as their tangled bodies rolled in the grass like a prickly tumbleweed.

Their careening stopped dead in its tracks as Shadow straddled Sonic, their panting faces inches apart, their arms wrestling for dominance with Shadow’s fists against Sonic’s palms.

Through grunts, Sonic tried to reason with him. “Okay, Shadow… hff… This was fun at first… hff… but now—” He cried out as his wrists bent at a dangerous angle.

“It was never a game, Sonic.” Using gravity to his advantage, Shadow pushed harder.

Pain shot through Sonic’s arms. “Shadow, stop!” he pleaded, his biceps nearly giving out. “It’s not what you think!”

Shadow snarled, his fangs gleaming like dual blades. “Don’t lie to me!”

Sonic’s muscles screamed. He didn’t remember his counterpart being this strong, didn’t understand where such passion was coming from. “Why are you so worked up?”

“I won’t let you destroy yourself!”

Shadow’s guttural cry echoed throughout the crisp air, followed by a chorus of flapping from retreating crows. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he almost wished Sonic would run away, too, as he shut his eyes tight to suppress his hot tears.

Witnessing such raw emotion made Sonic yield, letting Shadow pin his wrists to the dirt beside his spiky head. Though Sonic took shallow breaths, his peach torso still brushed against his rival’s ivory chest fur, soft and full, making his back spines prickle. “If it matters so much to you,” Sonic relented, “then you can take what’s in the basket.”

No sense of victory hailed Shadow as he sulked from revealing a shred of vulnerability. Instead a numbness washed over him like a waterfall. He crawled off the sapphire hedgehog, taking a few steps to retrieve what he thought was a performance-enhancing substance. But what he found was much more tame.

Perplexed, Shadow inspected a leafy stalk carefully. “These look like rose stems.”

As Sonic stood to brush grass off his quills, he could feel his face grow warm, resorting to sarcasm as a defense mechanism. “That’s because they are rose stems, genius.” He almost laughed. This was G.U.N.’s best agent?

It still didn’t add up. “Why were you hiding these from me?” When Sonic failed to answer, Shadow read his flustered face instead. “Are they intended for Amy?” Sonic shook his head. “Blaze?” Another shake. “Knuckles? You are aware he’s in love with a rock—”

“It’s you!” Sonic blurted, immediately slapping his palm over his mouth. He had to say something—he felt as if he were going to explode any second. But the regret was instant. He wanted to be cremated right then and there and have his ashes flung over the cliff into the depths of the sea below, dissolving into nothingness.

Shadow was taken aback but quickly composed himself, clearing his throat. “I see. Yellow roses?” he surmised, knowing that this flower hue symbolized a strong bond among friends.

“No,” Sonic replied, downcast. There was no point in lying anymore. “They’re a hybrid. Black for eternity and red for luh—! …Ove.”

That last word caught in his throat, so foreign on his tongue. Unconsciously he rambled, desperate for some sense of control again. “I thought that maybe once these bloomed, I’d have the courage to… ask you out.”

Shadow had difficulty masking his bewilderment. He opened his mouth as if to say something but failed to express a coherent thought, unable to recall the last time someone rendered him speechless.

Sonic rubbed the back of his neck, elaborating, “I know it’s stupid. Even though you get on my nerves, you also… get me, you know?” He reminisced over the moments they were forced to team up against a greater evil, racing side by side, occasionally stealing sidelong glances at each other.

Then images of the Finalhazard flashed in his mind, followed by the harrowing sight of Shadow plummeting to his supposed death. “When I thought I would never see you again, it made me realize I had taken you for granted.”

I should just stop talking, Sonic told himself. But his lips betrayed him. “Since then, I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

What are you doing? “I mean, look at your speed. Your strength. Everything about you screams danger.”

Shut. Up. “But instead of running away from you, why is my heart telling me—”

Shut up shut up shut up!

He growled, yelling over his thoughts, “—to run with you!?”

Sonic was practically on the verge of a cardiac arrest. His breath was short, his ears were numb. He felt as if an anchor pulled him by the pit of his chest to claim him as part of the earth’s core. He expected a witty comeback. A kick to the stomach. Anything! But what he got was worse. Shadow stared at Sonic as intently as a sniper through the lens of his scope. As pervasive as a bullet, what really killed Sonic was the silence.

Sonic shook his head to clear his mind. It was all so ridiculous, devoting so much time and effort and emotion to someone who couldn’t care less. “But it doesn’t matter.” He hastily gathered his belongings and began to head homeward. “Clearly you don’t feel the same way so let’s just move on and pretend none of this ever happened—”

“Wait.”

Sonic froze, feeling Shadow’s grip around the crook of his elbow. His heartbeat pounded so incessantly he thought his eardrums would burst. “Yeah?”

The crimson-eyed hedgehog averted his gaze, though Sonic thought he spotted a faint rosy tint across his tan muzzle. “It appears as though your sentiments mirror mine.”

Cogs slowly turned in Sonic’s mind, trying to process the confession. But then he laughed in denial. “Come on, Shads. You’re not serious.”

Shadow squeezed Sonic’s arm in affirmation, finally locking his ruby irises with his counterpart’s emeralds.

Fixated, Sonic read no hesitation, no amusement in that scorching gaze, straight as a gun barrel. That’s when he knew Shadow was indeed telling the truth.

It finally clicked. Then Sonic turned bright red, realizing just how close Shadow was standing, feeling his warm breath on his lips.

Shadow stroked Sonic’s cheek with the back of a curled finger, a touch that was extra gentle in case he miscalculated his own strength, before resting it under Sonic’s chin to slightly crane his neck. The agent found his blush quite endearing, and being its trigger was icing on the cake. They were in such close proximity that Shadow could breathe in his admirer’s scent, sweet as freshly cut grass. Shadow’s blood pumped so madly he thought Sonic could hear it. He briefly wondered if he would ever get used to the hero’s presence. Perhaps he would find out at a later date.

If so, it would be a date to die for.

With slowly lidding eyes, Shadow leaned in, parting his lips just as their muzzles were a quill’s breadth apart—

“Shadow, come in!” urged an electronic voice.

The hedgehogs jumped out of their trances. Shadow cursed under his breath, realizing the command came from his wrist communicator. He pressed a button as he spoke into it. “Yes, Rouge?”

“You’re supposed to report every hour so we know you’re safe while patrolling,” his bat coworker scolded.

Shadow grimaced. “I can take care of myself.”

“It’s just a precaution,” Rouge stated. “In any case, that cheery attitude of yours lets me know you’re fine. Bye~!” The call ended with a beep.

A forlorn sigh escaped Shadow’s lips, the moment officially tainted.

But with his ever-present smile, Sonic brushed off any disappointment he may have had. “You should get back to work.”

Shadow glared at the blue hedgehog, feigning annoyance. “This area is well within my jurisdiction, and I haven’t finished inspecting it,” he claimed, watching Sonic’s grin grow wider, so contagious he wore a hint of a smile himself. He then graciously took the shovel from Sonic’s grasp, walking toward the primed plot. “Come. I hate leaving a job unfinished.”

[fantastic-rambles]

Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity

Characters: Shindo Ainosuke (Adam), Kikuchi Tadashi (Snake)

Warnings: Physical Violence, Mild Verbal Abuse, References to Murder

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: (AU - Canon Divergence) Following the murder of Ainosuke’s aunts, Tadashi now faces the far more difficult task of wading through the broken pieces he’s left in his wake and putting them back together. [TadaAi Week 2021 | Day 3: Healing]

[Part 1]

His day starts the same as any other: waking up to the sounds of the ocean and the sharp, citrusy smell of his tea. The crash of the waves gently drag him toward the shore of consciousness, gradually roaring louder in his ears until he opens his eyes to the morning sun filtering through his gauzy curtains. And as always, Tadashi is waiting there attentively, a dark figure in a perfectly tailored suit, ready to take on whatever the day will throw at him.

Ainosuke smiles as he reaches out to grab his secretary’s sleeve, only for his hand to freeze in midair as the nightmare of the previous evening crashes down on the otherwise ideal morning. Had that actually happened? Or was it just a horrible dream, the product of a fevered imagination that was just too tired from his long nights of working, made longer whenever he snuck out to skate?

“Tadashi..." His throat feels raw and sore as he speaks, and then Tadashi is kneeling beside him, offering him a porcelain cup.

“I’ve added extra honey this morning,” Tadashi says, cupping the saucer in his hand. But Ainosuke’s already snatched his hand back, staring at the other man while his heart begins to race. He can't tell what Tadashi is thinking, and he doesn't understand how everything can be so normal after what happened. Nothing has changed in Tadashi’s mannerisms, and Ainosuke is gripped by the sudden desire to vomit again, even though there’s nothing left to bring up.

“It will help with the nausea, too.”

Tadashi seems to realize that Ainosuke isn’t going to take the cup from his hands, so he sets it down on the bedside table before stepping over to the wardrobe to pull out a dress shirt and one of Ainosuke's suits and carrying them back to the bed. But Ainosuke still hasn’t touched the tea, and he’s barely moved at all. Only his eyes have tracked Tadashi as his assistant wandered around the room, as if the other man is a venomous serpent waiting to strike at the slightest provocation.

“Do you require the day off? I can reschedule your meetings if that is the case. But it would raise less suspicion if we were to behave as we normally do.”

“Is that what you’re doing?”

Ainosuke’s voice comes out in a soft hiss that surprises even himself. But it doesn’t seem like Tadashi intends to kill him--at least, not immediately--so he pushes past the paralysis, trying to regain control of this insane spiral that his life has gone down. He needs to reassert himself, and he expects--or rather, hopes--that Tadashi will back down and retreat behind his usual, bland statement of “I have no opinion.” That mask of submission had always infuriated him, but now he wants it back. He wants some proof that everything hasn't gone to hell. And yet, in that as well, Tadashi defies everything he’s known about the other man, meeting his eyes squarely.

"Yes, Ainosuke-sama," he replies.

“And how the hell do you think you’re going to get away with this? What about the house staff? Their friends? Me? You killed three people, Tadashi.”

“I’ll handle it. But if you want to turn me in, that’s up to you.” Tadashi reaches out toward Ainosuke, and Ainosuke wants to flinch, but he slaps the hand away instead, desperate to assert his dominance in this situation. But there it is again: Tadashi’s refusal to eliminate the only witness of last night, a decision that Ainosuke can’t reconcile with the stranger he met... or even the steady, logical secretary who’s been at his side since his father passed away. Still, he gets out of bed, waving Tadashi away as he begins to dress himself, not wanting to feel the other man’s touch. It’s a little slower, but he’s eventually pulling his tie snugly against his throat and straightening his cuffs.

“Why did you do it?” Ainosuke demands suddenly, his eyes snapping to Tadashi. A flicker of emotion races through those emerald eyes, too quick for Ainosuke to identify, and then they’re flat again.

“Because their influence was toxic. They hurt you, Ainosuke-sama. They warped your understanding of people, of society... of love.”

"They loved me!"

But Tadashi is shaking his head.

“They loved status, power, and control. And they used that to turn you into their tool. But they never loved you, Ainosuke-sama. Even at the very end... they only thought about themselves. Kanako-san and Masako-san only said what they thought I wanted to hear to try to beg for their lives. They didn’t truly reflect on their actions; they didn’t understand what they’d done wrong, and so they didn’t sincerely apologize. And Hanako-san didn’t even think about you at all: she only cared about the other two.”

“Liar!” If it wouldn’t be entirely childish, Ainosuke would have jammed his hands over his ears to shut out that voice. Because there is no way that what Tadashi is saying could be true. Ever since he’d been young, his aunts had been a constant presence in his life: nurturing and guiding, just like mothers. But strict, too, when they had to be, because they wanted him to become a respectable man.

He couldn’t blame his aunts for their reactions when they faced a murderer, their desire for self-preservation; it was merely a natural, instinctive response. And Hanako had just seen both of her sisters die, with her own death looming: of course she wouldn’t think about him at that moment. But who they were when they were facing a reaper wasn’t who they really were; for decades, they’d assured Ainosuke of their love for him, and they’d consistently showered him with it, all the good and the bad.

Lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice Tadashi kneel until it’s too late and the other man has grasped one of Ainosuke’s hands in his own, tightly enough that he can’t pull away. And there’s a spark in those green eyes as Tadashi looks up at him, speaking with more emotion than Ainosuke has heard in years, ever since they were children.

“Give me a chance, Ainosuke-sama. Let me show you what love really is. It doesn’t need to be painful,” he says earnestly, bending his head to press a kiss to the back of Ainosuke’s hand. He seems so pliant and submissive, but Ainosuke knows better, now. He’s seen the monster that lurks beneath that obedient facade, and he bares his teeth in a warning snarl.

“You’re saying that you love me? And that’s why you did that? Know your place!” His free hand clenches into a fist and drives toward the side of Tadashi’s head. He sees the other man tense, but Tadashi doesn’t try to block it or dodge, allowing the full force of the blow to knock him aside and make him relinquish his grip on his master. He crashes against the end table, making the teacup rattle on its saucer. Some of the cooling tea splashes out while Ainosuke advances on him, shaking with an emotion that even he can’t recognize: a mixture of fear, anger, vindictiveness... If he can make Tadashi feel even a fraction of what his aunts had suffered, then it’ll be worth it. It won’t bring them back, but maybe it’ll help him feel better.

His foot draws back, and he hammers a kick into Tadashi’s side, smiling when he hears the air whoosh out of the other man’s lungs. For the first time since the nightmare of last evening, he feels as if he’s in control again as he lands more kicks on his servant who simply cowers and takes it until Ainosuke’s bent over, panting from his exertions, while Tadashi is curled up on the ground, his arms wrapped protectively around his head.

“Get up,” Ainosuke orders, nudging Tadashi with a foot. “We have work to do, right?”

He forces a smile onto his face, the same charming, meaningless smile that he uses whenever he shows up in public. He’ll figure out how to deal with this properly later and decide exactly what he’s going to do after everything has had time to sink in. Right now, his mind is still frozen from the adrenaline and the shock. But at least for his aunts, he’ll get through this day, just the way that they’ve taught him to. Even if it aligns with Tadashi’s motives, whatever they are, Ainosuke can’t let the Shindo reputation be tarnished.

[Part 3 - to come]

[ymiwritesstuff]

Bloody Feathers

The Legend of Zelda Breath of The Wild

SPOILERS BELOW!

So this is my interpretation of how Revali died at the hands of Windblight Ganon. This is not an x reader story, just Revali and how I think he met his doom. So yeah, mega angsty and I hope you enjoy.

Notes: Angst, Blood

~

The wind created by the abomination was merciless, disrupting the Rito’s movements as he tried his best to position himself. The distress signal Medoh’s corrupted form sent out was long gone, lost within the Kingdom that was being consumed by the Calamity. No one could have predicted his return or the destruction his hatred carried. His plan was beyond anyone’s imagination and the horror that now coated the Kingdom of Hyrule was ruthless, bringing nothing but the cruel winds of death with it. The world was dying. Yet, he had to fight.

The sun had long set, but the beast’s aggression only seemed to worsen. Revali’s mind and body were beyond exhaustion, the once-massive leaps into the air he could do being reduced to tiny hops. The blood dripping from his wounds and cuts spilled onto the Divine Beast he once controlled, the loose feathers that left his body flew in the winds much like he had once done. And the beast before him, hadn’t even suffered a scratch from the Rito champion.

It was hopeless, though he didn’t allow himself to admit it. No matter what he did, no matter how many sets of arrows he fired, no matter how many times he used his signature technique, nothing had an effect on the monster that so unforgivingly fired back at him. Its aim was unlike anything he had seen, the tornados it summoned throwing him around the battlefield with ease. But even after all of that humiliating damage received, Revali stood up. Again and again, ready to face the blight.

He took off to the air again for what felt like the thousandth time, struggling to stay on the right course. The ruthless wind created by the creature blew around him, mixing with the one formed by his Gale. He fired again. Another fruitless attempt to weaken his overwhelmingly powerful opponent. He had to try. There was nothing else to do. Should he fall now, all his hard work and days without rest spent in the Flight Range would be for naught. All his training was for this very moment. This cruel, unfair moment.

The Rito was thrown on the ground again, a groan of pain escaping from his beak. His Great Eagle Bow flew out of his grasp as a result of the collision. He wasted no time in trying to get up, unwilling to give in and lose his life to such inferior creature of malice. But his attempt was to no avail as his body collided with the surface of Medoh once more, his drained body refusing to support him. He was at his limit and still, the beast was unharmed.

“N-no… T-this… T-this won’t be the end..!” The sight of the abomination that had suffered no damage from his attacks he gave everything he had into was infuriating. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. The darkness provided by the night covered the night sky and deep down, the Rito Champion knew this would be the last time he saw the starry sky. He attempted to get on his talons again, fuelled by anger and determination to live. The Rito Village, his home, the Princess, the rest of the Champions, all had faith in him. He would succeed. He had to. The great Rito Champion wouldn’t be so humiliatingly defeated, so he stood up, stumbling and locked his emerald eyes on the blight, ready to give his all.

But he froze. His entire being came to a halt like a boulder crashing into a cliff. The monstrosity before him, threateningly framed by the moon stared at him, the malice erupting from it sinking its teeth into his very core. His heart was pounding, the sound echoing in his head as the sight before him drained him of all confidence and hope. Revali was afraid. Afraid of losing, afraid of death. His eyes widened, his trembling body barely able to hold him up as the low growls of the beast filled the air. Medoh shook lightly, not obeying its former master who was now paralyzed by fear he had never felt.

Revali stared at the being that would soon take his life, fear burning in those green eyes. There was nothing he could do. Medoh was lost, his bow was out of reach, and above all, the Champion had used all his remaining strength to try and fight the creature of hatred. It was futile. He had lost the very moment he set foot on the cursed machine, but only now did he realize it.

The laser was aimed at him and all the blue Rito could do was to fall on his knees, exhausted, defeated, and humiliated. He had been a fool. All of them had. His demise was mere moments away, and all Revali could think about was just how useless it had all been. All the time and effort, all the training, all the preparation done was ultimately the sole thing responsible for his doom. The thought strangely amused him as the arms of death slowly embraced him.

He wondered if the others would perish in such a way. Surely, if he couldn’t defeat this beast, the others couldn’t either. How disappointing.

The Calamity was merciless and Revali finally understood just how small of a chance all of the Champions had against it. And so, the Great Champion of the Rito, was pierced by the laser that was supposed to be all of Hyrule’s salvation.

[cutegirlmayra]

Amy Rose Prompt: Strong

It’s a birthday week! I just thought of this one while watching some inspiring and emotional scenes from all different types of animation. I guess my birthday wish is for characters that I’ve longed to see have a ‘strong impacting moment’ have them again sometime in the future that pumps us all up to cheer for them!

Commissions and prompts are open, but if you’ve submitted 3 ideas already, please hold off and let others have a try! :Db Thank you!

Prompt:

“Metal Sonic!!!” Amy spread her legs into a balanced stance. Her scuffed up boot dug deeper into the ground to give her a firm footing. The wind howled like a forlorn cry as she brought her hammer up, beginning to twirl it around herself as she did when she miraculously deflected Eggman’s canon-fire.

Metal Sonic was already going after his first priority: Sonic.

However, this little pink hedgehog was proving to be quite the nuisance.

He stopped in his departure and turned to see her still rearing to fight, but his scanners only saw her as an annoyance, not a threat.

The image of Rosy the Rascal was engraved in his memory, Amy Rose could not change his view of her. Pathetic.

“I won’t let you run!” she cried out, feeling the ache in her back and to alleviate some of it’s pressure, she hunched forward just slightly. “You will never be like Sonic The Hedgehog!”

It’s head turned with a creek of its steel, and its eyes blazed red in a heated acknowledgement of her words.

She found a moment to take a step forward, pushing herself to make him see her, to defeat the doubts that told her she could be destroyed trying to take him on.

“I’ve decided something, Metal... I’ve decided... I’m not going to try and redeem you.” she squinted her eyes, feeling her heart grow heavy as she admitted that.

He continued to stare at her, now fully turning his body towards her.

“Instead, I’m going to defeat you!” She took her existing hammer and swung it out, making it grow even larger than when Eggman had tried to trap her in that cavern.

“I could only make that decision because I knew two things, Metal Sonic! One, that you will never measure up to Sonic!”

Metal Sonic’s body hunched over, twitching in his rage.

“And secondly... Not just that... but that you don’t have a heart to redeem.” She turned to a moment of tenderness, as though still wishing that weren’t the case. “You’re true to following your programming, and being what you are... a villain. No, worse than that, a villain’s puppet... bent on being nothing more than a nuisance in this world!” She stepped forward again, “So no matter what I say to you, no matter how hard I try and teach you about friendship and the beauty found in this intangible world... you will only hate. Comparing yourself to Sonic, you are nothing like him! He taught Tails how to fly a plane!” she sped herself back into a ready stance as he charged her. It was like he was teleporting, how fast he moved.

He sent a slashing hand through to her center but she reflexed to holding her hammer like a sword engaging against a metallic shredder.

“Grr...Urk... HARRRAH!!!” she threw him off, and he flew back a moment.

“He brought Knuckles out of his isolation!” She swung her hammer to deflect his version of a homing-attack.

All the while, he was moving her back down the mountain, as though proving a point... she could never face him head-on...

As though mocking her for trying, he kept his next consecutive attacks with full force but slower, allowing her to block and continue to be pushed back by his power.

“Urk, gah... ha!” she blocked again and again, trying to swipe at him but he expertly would dodge her.

Zooming in to grab her hammer, he decided now would be a good time to boost his thrusters and send her farther back down the rocky cliff.

“AHHH!!!” he shoved her down and the hardness of the rock scraped against her bareback side.

He tried to pull the hammer out of her grasp, but she held on, making him pull her up as she took a foot and jammed it above his rotating center core, burning with fuel to allow him to operate.

She kicked off and he willingly let go... to him, this was mere child’s play. Just a way to shake her off his tail while he continued to hunt down Sonic.

She landed well but felt herself start to strain. ‘Not now...’ she got herself back up, ‘Not yet.’ she took her hammer in both hands, moving it clumsily over her shoulder.

“Y-you forget... or you don’t know-!” she bent herself, getting ready for the biggest home-run of her life. “Who taught me to fight..!” she charged forward, and underestimating her momentary rest, Metal Sonic leisurely lifted a hand to stop her but was slammed down by the unforeseen force that came with her hit.

He was knocked to the side, his eye-lights shaking due to his mental computer unable to compute what had just happened.

“He helped me to never give up!” she swung again, forcing him back to his feet and then slammed him down once more, “He taught me that you make your own destiny!!! The way you envision it! The way you want it to be!”

She kept hammering into him, and soon, as he began to step back... unable to brace himself from her impacts, he was losing pieces of his metal hide one after the other.

He stumbled, tripped, and fell over himself with each massive hit she threw at him... now he was the one getting pushed back up the mountain’s side...

“You will never be like him... because you don’t know what’s it like! You’ll never understand what Sonic has learned from us! What we’ve gained from him!” she continued to wham him with sensational fury and continual endurance, a steady show of power that only ever increased with each new powerful hit of her Piko Piko Hammer.

Amy’s swings became more and more rapid, but still carried so much weight in every blow.

Metal Sonic’s systems began to glitch out on his eye-lights, unable to process the progression of how far the battle had turned.

“Maybe it’s all Eggman’s fault... or maybe you truly just want to watch the whole world burn... but either way... There can only be one Sonic that lasts in my heart!” She brought the hammer over her head, and a crack of thunder burst from behind her, traveling like a spiderweb through the dark sky.

But it was that moment that Amy hesitated, breathing hard as her compassionate heart got the better of her.

Her eyes loosened from their fierce anger and narrowed bridge, realizing how awful she must appear.

She saw Metal Sonic struggling to get up, one of his eyes dented by her strikes and the other glaring up at her.

“...I’m no monster...” She stepped away, breathing out as the mental image of herself appeared in her mind. “I’m no villain... I’m just a hedgehog... who can’t stand to see people suffer around her...”

Within Metal Sonic’s programming, the image of Rosy the Rascal was being infiltrated, as Metal Sonic began to override his own logic and erase her image from his memory core... replacing it with that terrifyingly powerful stance Amy held before... and blurred out the threat level... having it massively bolded and blaring red: MAJOR THREAT.

“I’m not you.” she hissed out, seeing him shoot himself into the air, and charge his stomach-engine with a growing energy ball...

She remembered... pleading to the Chaos Emeralds to let her go super, and having her wished denied.

Even though she remembered... she held out her hand... “Chaos...”

Metal Sonic threw his arms back, bringing the the charge to the height of its power!

“...Please...” she squinted her eyes in the brightness of his blast that she knew she wouldn’t be able to escape or dodge from.

The Master Emerald flared to life, spiraling out from around it one of the Chaos Emeralds, a orange light spinning with it as it trailed a beautiful glow of chaos energy.

Tikal’s ghostly image appeared behind the flying emerald, moving like a comet towards her open hand to the side. “Amy..!” her voice cried out to her.

As the beam of Metal Sonic’s energy cascaded down like a vigorous wall of molten heat... The Chaos Emerald zipped to Amy’s side, and she caught it.

“CONTROL!!!!” Amy held up the emerald as time itself broke the fabric of space and reality and pushed her through its limits to appear twisting behind Metal Sonic.

He tried to turn around to her, but it was too late.

With one arm, her quills lingering up in the intensity of the moment, Amy crashed her hammer into his back, crunching the circuitry and snapping the tense wires out of place. Electricity burst from his being as he came smacking down into the earth below... Into the very crater of a grave he created for himself...

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Amy gave her everything to that attack, the Chaos Emerald’s glow ceased and she began to fall through the air.

“Ha...ha... oh no!” She looked around her, realizing taking out Metal Sonic was now the least of her worries. She had been transported thousands of feet into the air, and now... she was plummeting down at accelerated speeds.

“Sonic...” her eyes watered, before she clutched the Chaos Emerald again, “Chaos control!” her trembling hands from the wind pressure exposed its gloss form only to reveal it was still dull of any influence from her voice command... Her eyes widened, “This can’t be...” she squinted her eyes against the wind force again, “CHAAOOSSS!!! Control!” she tried again, turning it up towards the sky but nothing...

“S...S...Soooniiiccc!!!” she released the emerald from her hand, bundling her fists up to her chest and crying out her hero’s name...

In her most dire moment... a shimmer sparked like a star igniting far from her soul... but a sonic boom pulsed through the air as a figure--launched like a missile--swooped in an arch to grab her before she met her end.

She felt the lapping wind as the figure began to come to a screeching halt, trying to slow its momentum down before she felt herself blackout a moment.

When her limp body came too, she blinked to see a glowing figure above her. “-y...Amy..! Amy!”

Her eyes adjusted... and the bright being before her... was her Sonic.

“Amy, are you alright?” He was leaning over her, his two hands holding him up above her resting body, laying her down by the side of the cold mountain...

“Where’s Metal Sonic..?” He seemed concerned, and a gentle smile lifted to her face as her eyes glistened from his warm light.

“Sonic... I... I did it.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it was soft and gentle, something he wasn’t used to.

To show this, he leaned back a moment, his eyes widening in surprise by her sudden expression.

She was so full of gratitude, so content in helping her friends from the threat of Metal Sonic...

His smoking head rest deactivated, after having his form split apart and tumble loose down the rocky cliffs of the mountain’s proud face.

She was proud... but would he be?

“I beat him...” she gave a more fuller grin to her already exhausted and drained complexion. “Now... you’re the only Sonic...”

The only one that mattered.

Sonic’s image was blurring again.

“W-wait...” she wanted it to stay... but in that blurr, it focused only briefly to a proud smile on Sonic’s face, a happy expression.

“Thank you...” He began, as she blinked her eyes softly again, the world darkening once more. “Amy...”

[akaluan]

Erich/Kisuke/Alexis: Soulmate AU + Character in Peril Part 16

“Congratulations, sir,” Degurechaff announces as she slips into the tent, clearly distracted by something. “The men seem to have collectively decided that your foreign soulmate is a good man and that the entire reason I stepped in as chaperon is because I understand more of his language than you do. No one seems to have caught… on… sir, what exactly are you doing?”

Erich casts a sheepish look at Degurechaff and snuffs out the spiritual fire he’d been using to burn his paperwork. “Removing intelligence the enemy could collect?”

“With green fire,” she says dryly, then turns her exasperated look onto Alexis, who just smiles and continues to let her ghostly blue fires dance across the stack of paperwork in front of her. “And blue fire. From your hands. Where anyone could walk in on you.”

“It’s expedient,” Erich says in a half-hearted attempt to defend his decision. “And we can control it better than real fire.”

Degurechaff sighs and drops another stack of papers on his ash-covered desk. “Light that up then. We’re almost ready to go, just waiting on our injured and the last of the cleanup.”

Erich makes an agreeable noise and sets a hand atop the stack of papers. A small moment of concentration and the paper crinkles, charring around the edges as his power sinks in and emerald flames erupt. The fire burns quiet-soft-calm, brushing silken-cool against his fingers as it bends to his will to devour the paper, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

It’s a frivolous use of power, bright and showy and childish, but… it’s also a reminder.

(He’s not powerless, not helpless, no matter how he’s been feeling.)

(These simple, childish exercises are the basis for greater, more dangerous powers.)

(Powers he mastered many, many years ago…)

Degurechaff huffs at his display, but says nothing as she sweeps the tent to check on everything. “Where’s Urahara?”

“Fetching his blade to give it to me,” Erich answers as he dusts his hands off and turns to face her. “He’s decided that the best time to do so is now, for whatever reason.”

She makes a face at him, then shakes her head and returns to her inspection of the tent. “Well, we can’t wait much longer for him, though I doubt it will be hard for him to catch up.”

“It won’t be,” Erich agrees easily, letting a hint of question-concern-curiosity drift down into his soulmark while wondering exactly how far away Urahara had stashed his blade. He gets back surprise-sheepishness-loyalty and—

“I’m back!” the man announces with forced cheer as he ducks into the tent, and suddenly Erich understands.

(Urahara hadn’t kept his blade far away, he’d just been steeling himself.)

(Why in the world is the man so nervous?)

“Welcome back,” Erich replies as he takes careful, measured steps closer to the man. Being close is starting to be easier somehow, this morning’s events aside, and… it’s more of a relief that Erich wants to admit even to himself.

(He might actually be able to sell this to his people, might actually be able to convince them…)

(Two more days before the first Quincy beyond his wife spots them.)

(He can do this…)

Urahara watches him for a moment, gaze oddly weighty, then slowly lifts his hands, a sheathed blade balanced atop his palms. There’s a cord knotted around the hilt and sheath, tying the parts together so the blade can’t easily be drawn, but otherwise it looks normal enough. “Here,” he murmurs, a desperate edge of nervousness-fear-loyalty creeping through their bond.

The man doesn’t even realize what he’s projecting, Erich abruptly realizes when the emotions don’t taper off or shift to something less telling. Something about this gesture, about handing over his weapon, has more meaning to him than it does to Erich, and that’s… worrying.

(What has he demanded of his soulmate?)

(What line has he unwittingly crossed that he shouldn’t have?)

(He doesn’t know.)

(He doesn’t know, and all he can do is continue on with this action that his soulmate fears and…)

There’s bile in his throat as Erich reaches up, as his hands fold over the sheath and—

Fear-anger-fury-how dare you-how dare-want-need-loyalty-been burned before—you didn’t know it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine-hurt him and pay—

Erich gasps. Snatches his hands away. Presses them to his chest and tries to breathe through the panic that rises because— because— that blade— that— he demanded Urahara hand over a piece of his own soul and that piece is its own being and he demanded Urahara give up a part of himself for the sake of appearance!

“Erich.” Alexis steps between them. Cuts off his view of Urahara’s shuttered-guilty-hurting eyes. Cups his chin in her hands. Taps ‘focus’ into the skin below his ear. “Breathe with me,” she says-orders-demands, voice low and focused, fingers tapping ‘focus-focus-focus’ into his skin and—

He breathes.

Listens to the insistent demand to ‘focus’ drummed into his skin. Remembers days when ‘focus’ meant something else, something innocent, when it was just wandering attention due to boring lessons, not scattered, broken thoughts because— because—

‘Focus’, she taps — demands — and then adds ‘me’. An order. A directive. One he can follow.

He pries his eyes open — can’t remember closing them — and meets Alexis’ worried gaze. Reaches up to grasp one of her wrists. Presses his fingers into her pulse and counts—

“With me now?” Alexis murmurs, concerned but patient.

“Yes.”

Alexis nods and runs a thumb across his cheek. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He breathes. Counts her pulse. Gives himself a moment to actually process what he felt, trying to find the words to describe the sensation and coming up short. “His blade is… part of him. Holds — or is, maybe? — part of his very soul,” Erich begins slowly, thinking on the vast rawness of a soul so brutally exposed to casual touch.

(Were all Reaper blades like that?)

(How did Urahara manage to use that sword?)

“It’s what?” Alexis asks in shock.

“It’s part of his soul,” Erich repeats, then tilts his head slightly to glance at Degurechaff when she makes a disbelieving noise. “Reapers are souls, remember,” he tells her, only a touch awkwardly. “The idea that they could… form part of themselves into a weapon isn’t exactly beyond the bounds of reason.”

He thinks he hears her mutter something to the effect of ‘this is all beyond the bounds of reason’, but before he has a chance to say anything else, she’s turned her attention on Urahara.

“Did you know he would react like this?” Degurechaff asks, sharp-polite-deadly.

Erich can’t see how Urahara reacts, not with Alexis still standing between them, but he hears the shift of cloth and the man clearing his throat before saying, “Not like this, precisely… I knew he would realize what Benihime is, but… I didn’t expect…”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?!” Erich demands as he takes a half step to the side, pulling free of Alexis’ hold. He needs to see Urahara’s expression, needs to see his eyes—

Urahara’s gaze flickers down, body unnaturally still and his sword — Benihime? — still held out in offer. “Would it have made a difference?” he asks, a touch of resignation in his tone. “Would telling you have changed your decision? Would your people simply accept that you’ve left me armed because she’s part of me?”

They both know the answer to that, as much as it burns Erich to admit. Urahara is a dangerous man, with or without his weapon, but leaving him so visibly armed while leading him directly into the heart of their stronghold is…

Unthinkable.

“It didn’t seem—”

“Important? It didn’t seem important?” Erich growls as he tips his chin up and fixes Urahara with a steady look. “You…” he stops himself with a bitten off curse and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. His hand is trembling and he can’t quite seem to take a full breath, but… it’s fine. He’ll get through this just like all the other times. “Colonel, if you would translate for me again?”

“Of course, sir,” Degurechaff answers, the sheer steadiness of her voice enough to ground him a bit more.

“I am uncertain if simply handing over part of yourself is common amongst Reapers—” he suspects it’s taboo or close to it actually, based on Urahara’s reactions— “but here it is not. If you had spoken of it, we could have discussed things. We could have found some way to compromise, or to lessen the impact of me touching her unexpectedly.” He wets his lips and looks at the deceptively plain weapon in Urahara’s hands; there are very few ways around him having to carry her, and he’s… not exactly looking forward to it. “The fact you felt it wasn’t even worth mentioning is concerning. She clearly has a sentience, and just as clearly doesn’t like me—” he ignores Alexis’ concerned noise and Degurechaff’s frustrated one— “so should I take this as a oblique attack upon myself? An attempt to punish me for overstepping boundaries I did not know existed?”

Alexis tenses at his side, her spiritual power creeping towards the surface. She sends him a look when he pushes calm-steady-peace through their connection, but settles nonetheless.

(Thankfully.)

(He doubts this is a case of Urahara deliberately trying to harm him, but… he needs the man to understand how it looks.)

Erich watches as Degurechaff finishes her translation and Urahara’s face pales, shock-concern-denial echoing through their connection.

“I am sorry,” Urahara says in Imperial, rough and awkward and desperate the way he’s rarely been before. “I…” he makes a noise of frustration and shakes his head sharply, falling back into Akitsugo. “I did not mean it like that, I swear to you. It’s… it’s not common to allow someone else access to our zanpakutou, but I’ve never— being able to directly feel the spirit in it isn’t usual. There’s… there are a few tales about soulmates being able to, but all of them are from the very beginning of our society, a few thousand years ago. I didn’t… I didn’t think there was anything to them beyond wishful thinking. None of the older Captains ever mentioned anything like that, and I know at least two of them are soulmates…”

“They probably didn’t want to, if this whole… thing is as intimate as the two of you are making it sound,” Degurechaff chips in, then wrinkles her nose when the two of them turn to look at her. “Sorry sir, but if that was me, I wouldn’t be telling anyone something like that.”

“No, you’re correct. If you weren’t here to see it…”

“Trust me, sir, I understand.”

Erich nods once, then turns to translate Urahara’s words for Alexis. The more he speaks the more thoughtful she becomes, her wariness settling and the traces of her power fading from the air.

Seeing her settling makes it easier for him to relax, and his relaxation makes the tension in Urahara’s shoulders ease away. It doesn’t fix anything, doesn’t change that he still has to carry part of Urahara’s soul at his side, but… the calmer all of them are, the better.

(If only he hadn’t been caught by surprise.)

(If only he wasn’t so on edge…)

(Curse this whole situation!)

Erich takes a moment to corral his thoughts, then turns his attention back to Urahara. The man is still on edge, still cautious-concerned-resigned, still offering Erich part of his soul…

“Do you actually trust me with her?” Erich can’t help but ask as he takes a tiny, cautious step closer.

(If Urahara doesn’t trust him, him carrying that blade isn’t going to go well for either of them.)

(He… honestly doesn’t blame Urahara if that’s the case.)

(This… this is too much too soon, just like this morning…)

Urahara blinks, surprise-confusion-uncertainty rippling through their connection before being abruptly snuffed out, and says, “Maa, of course—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Erich snaps, tipping his chin up to meet Urahara’s gaze steadily.

“There’s no other option—”

“We can find one.” Erich grits his teeth and forces his frustrations back, knowing his volatility is doing nothing for the situation.

(He’s better than this!)

(Focus!)

He swallows his emotions and forces himself to breathe, ignoring the strange way Urahara is watching him in favor of summoning up the strength of will that let him handle Degurechaff before he truly knew her. “Alexis could carry her, if you trust my wife more,” he offers, tone as even and calm as he can make it. “Or perhaps Degurechaff, if the issue is that we’re soulmates.”

Urahara watches him, pale grey-green eyes wide and body worryingly still, and Erich knows in his soul that he’s once again done something, said something, that Urahara doesn’t understand how to process. For a moment he thinks Urahara won’t answer him, that the man doesn’t know how to answer, but then…

“Can we… try again?” Urahara almost whispers, gaze flickering down to Benihime and then back to Erich. “I… trust you, I do. It was just… it was unexpected for both of us. Maybe… maybe now that we know…?”

Erich gives a shallow nod, giving up on arguing for the moment. If Urahara wants to try again…

He lifts his hands and reaches for Benihime, watching the tiny signs of distress rising the closer he gets to touching her and…

Pauses, bare inches from the blade.

Breathes.

Lets his powers spin from his fingertips—

“What…?” Urahara murmurs in disbelief, distress fading into confusion as Erich gently brushes his power against Benihime. Once, again, again, until he finds a tiny gap in the man’s control, a way in that Urahara has left him.

Gently, Erich reminds himself as he begins to weave their spiritual powers together. Gently, he continues to repeat, threading careful, cautious tendrils into the edges of Urahara’s self. This is more trust, more intimacy, than he wanted to give for… for months if not years—

(Quincy do not give of themselves lightly, not with how easily this act can break them.)

(He won’t survive this going wrong.)

(He doesn’t even know how Reapers feel about doing this, doesn’t know what boundaries he might be treading upon, but…)

—but he does it all the same. This is the only thing he can think to do, the only act that has a chance at settling Urahara’s fears, and if it takes the most intimate bond outside of soulmates that he can think of…

He’ll do it.

(If he wants to be trusted, he must first extend his own trust.)

Urahara slowly reaches back, disbelief-wonder-loyalty coloring both his spiritual presence and their soulbond as the two of them weave the very edges of their being together. It’s not particularly deep or solid but it’s there, different from their soulmarks but no less powerful, no less intimate…

Erich lets his hands rise. Brushes the very tips of his fingers across Benihime’s sheath, waiting-wary-cautious of the same reaction as before, and—

Caution-thoughtful-I’m watching you-wonder-fascination-cautious trust-don’t you dare hurt him-

He breathes through the disorienting rush of sensations, using their new connection to carefully blunt the brutal intimacy of touching part of Urahara’s soul without reaching a true accord and—

It’s better. Easier.

(There’s certainly less hatred aimed at him.)

(That’s promising at least.)

Erich curls his fingers around Benihime’s sheath and lifts her out of Urahara’s hands, letting the sense of her settle into the edges of his power where Urahara’s power has been woven. Her power feels different from Urahara’s, a shade or two to the side, sharper-colder-harsher than Urahara’s ever felt; it’s not enough for most people to register, but with his connections to the man it’s… noticeable.

(He’s holding a part of Urahara that’s become nothing but a weapon, nothing but a tool to be used, killing on command, and…)

(He wonders if all Reaper blades feel this way.)

(He wonders if it matters.)

He holds her for a moment, debating the best way to carry her — it feels wrong to relegate a part of Urahara’s soul to being tucked away or hung from a backpack — before he makes a decision and lowers her towards his right hip, just behind his pistol. A touch of concentration and power solidifies around her, twisting into a harness that attaches her to his belt, and a thread of his personal power seals the construct in place.

(Now he won’t — can’t — lose her, not with his own power — his own will — binding her to his side.)

(So long as he does not exhaust his spiritual power, nothing can take her from him.)

Urahara stares at him, pale eyes gleaming with emotions that Erich can’t quite parse, then darts a glance down to Erich’s hip where Benihime now sits. “Thank you,” he murmurs as he takes a small step back, hands dropping to his side as if he no longer knows what to do with them. “I didn’t expect…”

Erich purses his lips and rests a hand briefly on Benihime’s hilt, fingers tracing the odd, complex knot binding her closed. “I am not without kindness,” he settles on after a moment. “She’s part of you.”

They stare at one another, assessing-judging-waiting, silence stretching between them as they both tentatively brush against the other’s power again and again, like children poking at a loose tooth, unable to ignore it, unable to let it go—

Degurechaff coughs lightly, dragging Erich’s gaze away from Urahara and to her; she pointedly taps her wrist and arches an eyebrow at him. “If we have everything sorted out…?”

Erich drops his hand away from Benihime’s hilt and looks back to Urahara. “Is this acceptable to you…?” he asks.

“It is,” Urahara agrees with another mask of a smile, still cautious-wary-tense but with traces of hope beginning to creep in.

(This is still wrong, still too much-too fast-too intimate, but… they’ll get through it.)

(They have to.)

Erich nods sharply and tips his chin towards the exit. “After you, Colonel.”

“Right. I’ll get the men in order.” Degurechaff salutes and stalks towards the tent flap, ducking through without a backwards glance. She begins barking orders the moment she’s outside, her voice carrying with the ease of long practice, her words fading slowly away as she moves off.

Erich heaves a sigh and rubs at the side of his nose, taking one last moment to gather himself, then steps over to his desk and scoops up his pack to sling across his back. “Right. Let’s go. We have places to be and we’re burning daylight.”

Alexis hums and brushes past him as she goes to grab her own pack, settling it in place and making sure she can easily grab any of her weapons.

Urahara laughs awkwardly and rubs at the back of his head. “You look… fierce,” he manages, looking between them in fascination. “I… like it.”

“You’ll like me more when I’m not stressed,” Erich tells the man dryly, then shakes his head and turns away, uncertain where that comment came from. “Enough talk, let’s move.”

He strides from the tent, confident that his soulmates will follow.

(Three days.)

(Just three more days.)

(They can make it.)

[gold-eyes-vengeful-heart]

Green vs Blue

((A duel with the Emerald Weapon.

Of course, contains Sorin ( @aetherstitch ) again. :3 Content warning for Runya being quite violent against other Weapons.))

===

The seas spooled out below and behind them, as Runya sent Blue skimming just over the wavetops towards Castrum Marinum.

“Hmmm.” He had been relishing the sensation of sheer power his own Weapon humming through the throttles and the controls in his hands and even through the seat he was firmly planted in...but the closer they got to the Castrum, the more concerned he got. He half-expected it to startle him like the Sapphire Weapon had, particularly if this one was indeed aquatic like the last was...

{Not there yet.} Whether Blue was talking about the Castrum or the Emerald Weapon, he wasn’t sure, but the distinction didn’t matter much. {Close. But not there.}

His sharp-eyed gaze caught the tips of the spires of Castrum Marinum, surely enough. “And you’re very right about that. But--”

{Aha.} The interruption splashed across all other thought, cutting him off. {There.}

And he suddenly pulled almost straight up, accelerating with a roar of thrusters as their emerald enemy rose from the sea below them with a hissing rush of seawater.

“I’ve been expecting you, IXth Legion’s pet!”

Runya was, for the moment, incredibly tempted to simply whip Blue around, shoot the damned thing, and be done with it. Yes, this one was supposedly more finished than the last and might very well stonewall him, but he was always quite willing to take advantage of someone’s monologuing to stab them in the back. Or the face, as it were. Yet...

(”I don’t understand what drives them. Why they can’t do the same thing you did. If they’re really in too deep with the Empire or if this is all a part of some plan.”)

Sorin had had a point, in the brief discussion they had before taking off to their respective Castrums. And now that the possibility had taken root in Runya’s mind, he was, for once, willing to go against his better judgement and indulge the boy.

He clicked open his own communications--his ears set right back when Baelsar’s face filled the far corner-screen, but the closer one filled with the Au Ra boy’s that he had been expecting. And Runya just smiled, giving him a cheeky wave. “Well, good afternoon to you. Though I’m afraid it’s ex-IXth Legion’s pet these days.”

“Yeah, we knew that already.” The Au Ra’s eyes narrowed. “But it doesn’t matter, does it?”

Runya shrugged one shoulder. “It doesn’t, you’re quite right. Unless your goal,” he added thoughtfully, “was to just finish taking out the IXth’s main Weapon for the sake of whoever your masters are now. Civil war and all.”

The Au Ra chuffed, smirking. “Well, cat, you have that one all wrong.”

Runya’s smile sent the smirk right back off the other man’s face. (The insult had barely even registered.) “Oh? Do I? Come now, it’s only sporting to spout off our master plans before a grueling duel. Or during it, as the case may be--”

He suddenly shot right at the hovering Emerald Weapon’s torso, the aether beam hissing viciously through the air...and through more air as the Weapon split in two, letting the attack pass harmlessly by before the halves casually reattached to one another.

“I’m here to stop you, and to stop Father with the power we wield, nothing else!” The Au Ra boy apparently wasn’t going to fall for it, and so Runya internally discarded the possibility of picking his brains in favor of falling into his own bloodlust with a deep and unpleasant chuckle. He said but one thing before closing communications entirely.

“If you insist.”

A nasty trick, that separation, but Runya had seen it and so when the boy tried it again, he made a beeline for the top half, Blue’s heavy jaws closing on the thing’s head with a rending screech of metal on metal. The momentum carried them into the ocean, but the booming splash did little to disentangle them and Blue crunched down even harder on the Emerald Weapon’s armor, crushing it bit by bit...

And then he got shot, from multiple directions, from strange little floating hand-constructs that Runya had, frankly, failed to notice, as had Blue.

And the reptilian Weapon yelped in Runya’s mind, the pain jabbing both of them in the ribs and making them let go. Despite the opportunity, however, Runya and Blue made no move to go to the surface; in the water, they were just as dangerous if not more, and Blue twisted back on himself and arced at ramming speed into the other Weapon. The hands of course shot again but this time Blue twisted to catch the worst of it on his thicker armor, and he ripped strips of green off of the Emerald Weapon in this close proximity--

Yes, yes. Runya wanted to not just kill it. Runya wanted to rip it apart. It was the only message these children would understand, written in a language of violence.

The Emerald Weapon quickly rose, though, soaring up out of the water, and Blue rushed after it and burst through the surface and his jaws closed on one of his foe’s massive pauldrons, rending it to uselessness. Before he could really do much about the pilot, however, he was thrown back and the Emerald Weapon glowed...

“Ah, I should have assumed he would do that nonsense. Just like the others.” Runya clicked his tongue, his body aching from the twisting and turning and speed, but still all but vibrating in anticipation (and with the rush of sheer power that Blue gave him--it exceeded anything this half-broken form was capable of and of course he could practically get drunk on it). “Oversoul, I take it. I wonder who--”

The gleaming golden form that appeared, hologram-like, in front of the Emerald Weapon, quickly answered that question. And Runya actually cackled, the noise half-mad in the confined space of the cockpit (in a way that left Blue slightly taken aback, his thoughts receding slightly from Runya’s). “Oh, you brought me a present? You shouldn’t have, boy!”

Gaius himself. He had realized full well that they had his data, more likely than not, but to have the Weapon bearing it coming to him so soon? He would almost wonder if it was fate, if he believed in such things. As it was, the sight did little to abate the urge to really push Blue to his limits, to really show them what destruction they were both capable of--

Even as their surroundings warped and shimmered and turned into a literal battlefield--complete with burning homes and shattered landscape--Runya dug deep in a way he hadn’t with the Sapphire Weapon and when his mind resurfaced and his eyes snapped back open, they glimmered molten gold that flowed through the aetherial markings etched into his flesh, sending a surge of aether (Blue’s aether) through his whole form. He felt every breath, every rush of air past Blue as if it was his, and when they flew at screaming speed at their now-multi-bladed opponent, all Runya could do was laugh in a way a bit too close to madness.

“Come, come, show me what the VIIth’s vaunted Weapons are really capable of!” he snarled, and though the Emerald Weapon tried to dodge, Blue twisted in the same direction and slammed it, raising his head and snapping one of the golden blades right out of the air--crushing it with a single flex of his jaws. “Pathetic! Just like your father, pathetic!” 

The Black Wolf’s gleaming form reappeared, darting from the top of the Emerald Weapon’s head and swinging the aetherial gunblade right for Blue’s eyes, but it wasn’t enough and Blue, too, snapped that construct to pieces and then seized the Wolf’s construct itself, jaws closing like a steel trap on its torso. Of course it struggled and Runya felt it between his teeth like a wriggling fish but he just clenched his jaw tighter and thrashed his head, Blue thrashing the golden form in time and with the same savage ferocity. Once, twice, thrice.

(Let the real Gaius watch. Let the real Gaius feel full well the fear that Blue and his pilot’s presence should inspire.)

“Don’t try to get Daddy to save you,” he chuckled, baring his Miqo’te fangs as the construct finally died and Blue turned his attention to another of those damnable arms attempting to carve pieces out of them both. “You and your siblings wanted to face me, so face me!”

He crushed one arm and his tail-claws caught another; a third met its end under one heavy-clawed footpaw. 

“Show me what you’re really made of!”

One of the floating blades scythed down at his neck but Blue just pulled the protective scales in close and twisted again, the edge screeching down the metal and embedding into the earth instead.

“Is this really all you have, boy?!”

He almost thought--or maybe just hopefully fancied--that he saw fear on the Emerald Weapon’s metal countenance right before Blue caught the final blade with his tail and then crashed his jaws shut over the enemy machine’s head.

“Is this the vaunted VIIth Legion’s third Weapon?!”

Of course, the Emerald Weapon fought back; it did its level best to pry Blue off while slamming shot after shot into Blue’s chest, but Blue just growled and grappled with his foreclaws with the cannon. Or cannons, plural, but either way, the sharp things carved into metal and machinery and rendered them useless. Now, Blue brought his heavier hind-claws into play, kicking and reaving into the other Weapon while it struggled in vain to get out of his grasp.

As entertaining as it was to grind that maggot to paste in his jaws, however, Runya wasn’t going to wait on the metaphorical mouse he was playing with to bite him again. And so something deep in Blue’s throat started to glow, shimmering out between the heavy scale-like plates protecting it.

“I find you and your family...lacking.”

The glow intensified, brilliant blue and vicious, and with a single thought from Runya, it shaped itself into a beam and shot through the Emerald Weapon from crown to base with a rending crack of air and overheated metal.

Finally, it stopped moving. It even stopped hovering, collapsing in on itself, the illusion dissipating just in time for the shallows of the sea below to swallow it whole.

Blue roared in defiance, and though the battle-high and the Resonance high had receded and left him shivering for an entirely different reason now...Runya smiled, and laughed right along with him.

He had taken care of the IXth Legion’s leader and his hateful daughters, but that would never be enough. He would start with the VIIth...and keep going until the Empire had been eradicated, root and branch and rotten fruit. 

All of them would burn. But the VIIth Legion’s Weapons and its pilots would be first.

[snekthing]

Another pic with the Disney snake and echidna princess, but with some tickles in the mix. This is a clear re-done pic of the first TiKaal doodle I drew back last year, just to show how much I’ve progressed and I just like these two together. Enjoy! :3 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------   Alone was the casual state of the gorgeous echidna princess named Tikal the Echidna. Outside of her pudgy and sweet chao to look after and her grandmother who taught her the forgotten peaceful ways of the tribe and the mystical chants for the Master Emerald, the girl mourned by herself. She was burdened by the fury of her power-hungry and arrogant father who had a major influence at her home, hoping to be away from her worrisome life as she was on her own to think of the once happier and civilized lifestyle. To calm herself, the princess was strolling through the massive and wonderful jungle, letting the sights amaze and tame her, but nature’s efforts was no good for the troubled echidna. It didn’t help that a mischievous, lengthy python’s yellow eyes followed the beauty around as she walked alone, intrigued by her presence that he needed to see her, possibly even show her some fascinating and soothing sights.

   With a sympathetic approach, this python who went by the name of Kaa slithered towards his majestic guest, surprising her by asking about her saddening aura. Tikal jumped and stepped back as she saw the large python getting closer, never wanting to be the target of predators so soon. However, the halt of Kaa’s slithering and he curiosity about her made the princess a bit more calm as she saw he didn‘t want to hurt her but rather comfort her. The echidna had no choice but to stay with the serpent and talk to him, letting her tears and thoughts rain down. Kaa was indeed shocked to hear of this wondrous and angelic girl being stuck in such a harmful place she was unfortunate to call home, feeling that she can be more to him than just a simple toy to play with under his coils. This Tikal character needed someone to provide splendor and teasingly blissful care, something he was known to provide throughout the jungle. He blocks her eyes with his coils, the princess noticing the snake toying with her as she didn’t really feel much in the mood. As she lifted the coils with her gentle hands, the magnificent and powerful spectacle of his mysterious swirling rings were all Tikal could see.

   Kaa kept his smile, maybe even having it become a grin, telling Tikal that he can provide more than a peaceful residence in the vast jungle. He was a powerful hypnotist as well, letting his eyes take control of those who either oppose him or is in need of his company. Tikal was the definitive example of the latter, the python telling her that she can forever be in a life of comfort and love, tenderizing massages, and slumber if she lets her senses fade and let him watch over her for endless hours, for her to live in the jungle with him whether entranced or not. The dizzy mind of the lovely princess pondered to the best of her ability, the colorful rings reflecting from her eyes as the spell was taking a toll on her. Tikal felt the soothing bliss from Kaa’s hypnosis, feeling her worries erased and replaced with humble thoughts of happiness and ecstasy. She shivered feeling Kaa’s coils then loom upon her shoulders and stroking her chin, amazed by the silky and warm preview of the inevitable cocooning he had in store for her. They just met but the princess gave it some good thought and already felt the care Kaa instantly had for the girl. With a dear smile and a faint blush, Tikal made her decision, she wanted to be in Kaa’s coils and remain in the jungle that just the two of them can admire alone.

   Kaa gave a small hiss, letting his tongue tickle her soft cheeks as he lets his coils grasp upon his new and pure companion. Tikal was already hazy by the exotic spell, giggling and gasping as the coils lying from the treetops slithered downwards and cocooned her from top to bottom. She shivered from the sudden touch of her serpent, feeling the soft squeezes as every loop of coils swallowed her petite body up in a cooing hold. Her arms were still and dangling as the coils covered up her chest and hips, her legs soon followed suit. As the tail circles and binds its princess into a loving cocoon of tenderizing squeezes, Tikal was finally wrapped properly, only leaving her feet exposed. Kaa couldn’t help but notice this, chuckling as he suggested that now the two would have some fun since Tikal decides to live here from now on. His tail held onto her sandals and gently took them off, letting them drop as the tip poked the soles. Tikal gasped as she couldn’t help but giggle, unaware of the snake’s intentions.

   Kaa continues his playful torture, the tip of his tail stroking and poking the soft and gentle soles of his mate, wanting to see the surprising reactions from the princess. Tikal didn’t leave him disappointed, kindly asking for Kaa to stop as she tends to be interrupted by her cute and delicious giggles. Kaa loved the happy sight of Tikal being tickled and letting out her reliefs and stress from the laughs of this odd collection of teasing motions of the tail. He didn’t stop playing with her as the tail went on to wrap and brush over her feet, stroking each toe, and then brushing upon the ankles. Tikal giggled and laughed despite her want to resist, letting Kaa take control until she felt completely blissful and satisfied with his company. Kaa then stopped, letting the coiled beaut breathe for a bit, she was tired and glad to be more adjusted to Kaa’s charming, but also playful and mischievous ways. As the tail then coils around the rest of her legs and feet, Tikal heard the words of the serpent, telling her that she should rest as she was now home. The echidna sighed before letting her eyelids drop, sleeping beautifully thanks to the hypnotic snake as she was purely happy to be accepted in the jungle by Kaa, no longer having to be pulled back by her vicious fellow echidnas. From days on end, she was lovingly looked after and living peacefully in the jungle, teased but also treated like the princess she was by the charming and alluring snake. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Man, these stories are getting longer and longer by each passing minute. There are some differences between this and the old version. Obviously, Kaa's not in the doodle, wanted to keep the focus on Tikal just to show the emphasis on her expression and the tail. I also made Kaa in his 'JB 1' colors rather than 'JB 2'. Kaa the Python-Rudyard Kipling/Disney Tikal the Echidna-Sega/Sonic Team

Original version:

[imhereforbvcky]

Watch Me Run - Part 2

Masterlist  -  Series Masterpage  -   Part 1  -  Part 3 (coming soon)

Summary: You inherit a family relic that gives you the gift of foresight but there are others who are interested for more nefarious reasons. You turn to the Avengers for help. (Bucky x reader… eventually. I love a slow burn okay?!)

Prompt: The nightmare comes frequently and at the same time every day - one day you manage to sleep peacefully only to be greeted with the morning news by a story of a gruesome murder. The victim is the same person that’d appeared in your dreams

Warnings: graphic descriptions of death

Word Count: 2924

Author’s Note: We’re getting there, I swear this will be Bucky x reader soon and then it will be ALL Bucky ALL the time.

20 Years later…

The sound of blood pumping feverishly in your ears quickly became the only steady thing you could focus on. Snow crunched heavy under the stranger’s feet. His boots were gilded and foreign, not at all what you expected to see here in this familiar frozen landscape. Why was it always the icy grip of winter that you could never quite shake from your memory, or your dreams, apparently.

Your grandfather had called them green dreams, always while thumbing over the intricate design of the bronze eye that perpetually hung about his neck. The green stone at the center seemed, sometimes to glow when he got that faraway look in his eye like he was seeing again with his clouded blind eyes a world you couldn’t perceive.

As you followed this stone faced stranger, green cape swirling behind him in the fierce wind, a strangling fear seemed to grow stronger in your chest. It swirled around your throat and squeezed, stealing your breath and burning deep in your lungs.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes when they alighted on your grandfather, sprawled on his back in the snow. His chest heaved, thick puffs of steam met the cold northern air with every labored breath. The steam radiated off of him, from the leaking gashes in his chest and stomach, from the deep wound pulsing thick warm blood just above his knee. The skin around it looked almost scorched, even as the blood pooled in ever darkening gradients across the snow. God how you’d learned to hate snow.

The stranger’s voice was a muffled rumble through your panic as he loomed over the aged man. “You’ve only one thing left, old man. I’ll take that too if I must. Is your life worth so little to you? Where is the stone?” he asked in a voice that demanded an answer and a true one.

With a tremble and a burning pinch you felt yourself whine, you would have pleaded if you could, but there was no sound and you were utterly helpless. You were but a shadow in a dream. All you could do was watch - again, knowing the outcome - as your grandfather fumbled with a few loose rounds of .32. You could only watch - again - as he finally managed to get a couple rounds into the wheel of his ancient revolver and fire at the odd man who’d come in a flurry like the drifting snows, somehow everywhere at once but moving together like one great storm.

Under gunfire, the figure of the man flickered gold and vanished. An illusion. In an instant, an identical figure appeared beside your grandfather whispering in his ear as he reached forward and pressed the point of his sharp scepter at your grandfather’s chest. “The stone!” His voice came out in a sharp hiss that was mirrored by the pained noise of the old Seer as a blue mist passed forward from the glowing blue orb.

“It’s not here,” your grandfather breathed through shaking gulps as his eyes took on a peculiar blue gleam.

“Where!?” the dark stranger shouted, rising to one knee in front of the wilting old man. He used the new angle to press his weight into the scepter, the pointed end driving past the soft woolen shirt and slipping with smooth ease into tender flesh.

Your grandfather’s breaths came in short, terrified gasps now; death was at the door and begging entry. A thick stream of blood cut a path down his chest, warming his skin and dampening the wool shirt in an ever widening path down, and out. He followed it with his eyes and his fear became your own as he puffed out your name and “New York” between short, icy breaths.

“Thank you,” the tall stranger simpered with a tilt of his head. Then without another word his long dark hair fell forward in curtains around his face as he leaned all his weight forward, sinking the scepter deep into your grandfather’s chest. With a sickening slippery noise and a staggered gasp, your grandfather dropped his revolver and instinctively reached for the wound as his murderer withdrew the weapon. The gaping wound immediately swam with blood, surging in great pulses over large, wrinkled fingers that tried with all futility to stem the flow. Nothing would stop the bleeding now.

In a flash of blue and gold at the corner of your eye, the murderous intruder vanished, as if he were only a dream. It was a dream… for now.

Your focus remained on the pain, on the blood, on the sound of it, the rushing in your ears, the fuzzy sort of sound in your head and the white blurry sense at the edges of your vision. The panic. And yet you heard it, clear as day. Your grandfather’s last words as he whispered them into the cold winter wind that had once protected him with its bitter isolation.

He whispered your name in a sob. He said he was sorry. And he gave another name…

“Stark,” he said firmly, more resolute than you could have expected of one opening the door to death. “Show him!” With a garbled cough and a spurt of rich crimson rising in his throat his head fell back and he was dead.

In the same instant you woke with a gasp. You choked and coughed, grasping first at your own throat, seeking air, then at the glowing green amulet around your neck. The heavy throb at the back of your head and the stiff ache in your shoulder helped fill in the missing pieces as you pushed yourself up off the floor.

Somehow your grandfather had managed to control these dreams when he bore the eye; he’d stand on his porch with a distant look for long moments, and now you knew what his blind eyes saw. You, however, had not mastered that skill, and when a dream came upon you, you dropped where you stood and entered it fully. Their fear was your own, their pain stabbed through your chest and burned in your lungs as you choked and gasped for air until they finally, mercifully died.

To be fair this was only your second dream, identical to the first, from which you’d woken at exactly 3:38pm yesterday. You dug your phone from your pocket and checked the time. 3:38pm.

With a groan, you rolled your neck, stretching out the stiff muscles in your shoulder before reaching for the battered FedEx box on your coffee table. Its edges were mush and it was filthy. Your grandfather had covered it in layer after layer of packing tape and more tissue paper than you thought the little general store out in his isolated corner of the world was even capable of stocking.

Enclosed had been a small, simple magpie pin. Its wings curved down in graceful arches while its characteristic long tail feathers swooped down to continue the arc. When you first received the package you’d held the thing fondly for a while, not realizing the gravity of the rest of its contents.

It had come without a return address and addressed only to Ms. Y/L/N. Rather cryptic and unusual for family. Below the magpie lay a note taped to an archaic looking photo album.

“My dear magpie,

I’m sorry to send this so suddenly. I had hoped to reconcile with your aunt in time to prepare you for this day but time is difficult to master. This book is the evidence of our legacy, your aunt knows the stories, and it will be yours to keep now.

Above all, you must keep it safe. You are guardian of the Time Stone now, and the dreams your greatest shield.”

Nothing bore your name or his, but you knew it was yours; you knew it was from the grandfather you’d left behind in a snowstorm of painful memories when you were just a child. No one else called you magpie.

The photo album crackled when you opened the cover, its stiff pages complaining of your intrusion. Within lay photo after photo of members of your family tree bearing the same unique talisman. It went on and on for generations, decades… At the back was a handwritten family tree, and in green all the names of those who had borne the stone until its origins reached the end of the page without answer.

You’d quickly turned the page, hoping to find a continuation but instead the very thing - the eye - lay nestled perfectly fit within the last stack of pages. The thick papers glued together to make a casing that appeared no different than any other album from the outside but the center had been carved out in the shape of the relic, to hold it.

The thing seemed to have a life of its own, a legacy beyond you that gave it some power, if only in your head. When you touched it, there seemed to be a light from within that glimmered just briefly; that familiar emerald glow.

That afternoon you’d had the first dream and it had terrified you. You knew immediately who the opulent stranger had been. While you’d never personally laid eyes on him back then, you were in New York when a god and would-be king from another world opened the sky and a torrent of aliens descended upon the city.

There was still no explanation as to why Loki wanted this family relic. Only that it had been sent to you in New York in an untraceable package with instruction to keep it safe.

“Great. Sure. No problem, gramps! Haven’t seen you in 20 years,” you mumbled to yourself. Bitterness had begun to darken your mood as you sat on the hard floor with knees bent to your chest, staring at the glowing necklace. “...but if it’s your dying wish that I die hiding some big ugly rock from a legendary murderer… alien… god? Sure, this pretty magpie pin will make it all worth it.”

You sighed heavily, dropping the pin onto your table with a heavy clang. It really didn’t matter what you wanted. If you believed what little you knew of the stories, and heeded your own dreams… This exiled war criminal with otherworldly powers was coming for you in a matter of days.

Your choices began to seem fewer and fewer as you tried to think through this plan, beginning with Tony Stark.

---

Tony Stark was not an easy man to get ahold of. Wealthy people never are. But wealthy people who also hold a cache of immensely powerful weapon-suits, advanced and alien technology, and direct lines to a host of highly advanced super humans, well… nearly impossible.

Utterly naive. That’s the best description anyone could give for your attempt to go through the lobby and just ask for the man by claiming you’d had a dream that your grandfather in the backwoods of some snowy hell had a last dying wish for you to talk to him about protecting your big ugly necklace.

Foolish. Foolish and damaging best describe your next attempt: gate crashing his evening dinner reservation with your true but lunatic ravings about dreams and glowing rocks. It only landed you barred from a very nice Manhattan restaurant and scanned by his security’s shockingly convenient facial recognition watches and added to the nuisance list. Not threat list. But then again who’s really a threat to Iron Man?

Loki should be, if only you could get the right people to listen.

Time was running out and you needed help so you called and begged and twisted the arm of a good friend to get you a press pass to the latest Stark Industries quarterly report. You blended into the event and by some miracle didn’t get stopped by security. It was full of suits and cigar toting businessmen who were all too busy patting themselves on the back over every little penny, and listening to their own voices to notice one little reporter.

Even Tony Stark seemed bored with his own event as he leaned back as far as the springs on his ergonomic swivel chair would allow. His large, lightly tinted sunglasses obscured the seriousness the event seemed to demand. He didn’t bother giving a speech; everyone knew he didn’t really bother with the ins and outs of the finances. Pepper Potts’ eye for detail was far better suited for such minutiae.

He did, however, stay for the Q&A, if only to stand in the background for photos as the face of Stark Industries, being the only Stark present and all. Finally shooting an eager hand into the air and praying you would be seen through the mass of suited Forbes interviewers payed off.

Mustering all the confidence you could to impersonate a ruthless reporter, you rose to your feet and in a bold clear voice asked, “Mr. Stark, how do you or your company intend to respond to the rumors that Loki has returned? And what do you think is his purpose here this time?”

Tony’s entire posture shifted at this. His gaze snapped first to his bodyguard who shrugged, then to Pepper who looked both alarmed and frustrated. With a smile to her and a wink, he regained his usual relaxed composure as he took the podium.

“Listen. I walked past someone in Central Park today who said that Zorp the Surveyor, a 28-foot tall lizard-god was going to wipe out humanity by melting our faces with his volcano mouth,” he gesticulated wildly, scrunching his face into a dismissive frown. “Plenty of people have plenty of crazy theories. Just because some girl had a weird dream--”

“Sir, I think if you had told me a few years ago that a man from space was going to come to Manhattan and open a hole in the sky where an alien army and their leviathans would fly out to subjugate humanity, I’d have called it a crazy theory, and yet here we are,” you argued. “Who decides which stories are true and which are fantasy? Which are worth the Avenger’s time to investigate?”

“I’m sorry, what publication did you say you work for?” he snapped, clearly defensive and not prepared for these questions. Why would he be, he certainly didn’t expect anyone to ask about Zorp the Surveyor, why should he expect questions about you and your predictions?

“The Chronicle,” you answered quickly, citing your friend’s employer, the one printed on your hastily procured press badge.

Tony only nodded and shared a quick look with his bodyguard. “Right. Well. As I’m sure the Chronicle remembers, the war criminal Loki was remanded into the custody of his brother Thor where he’s been imprisoned on another planet in another galaxy to infinity and beyond.” He gestured with pretentious exaggeration, trying to take control of the room with humor. “I can assure you if he were back on this planet, we would know about it.” He leaned back, hands gripping the sides of the podium. He seemed utterly satisfied with his answer, finality punctuating his firm posture, the upward tilt of his chin. Everything about him urged the crowd for the next, non-conspiracy-related question.

But you beat the next reporter to the punch, sliding in one last question as you handed small stacks of paper to the respondents on either side of you.

“You would know. Of course,” you smiled, repeating his assurances demurely with a downward glance, looking every bit the scolded child. That is, until your gaze snapped up, your hard eyes boring into his as you held a copy of the papers you’d just distributed forward. “What about if he was in New York?”

By the time the question left your lips, your paper had reached the hands of every reporter in the room. Your precision sketch of your grandfather’s murder with Loki looming over him, above a brief description of the scene including the bolded words ‘“Where?!” Loki hissed. “New York,” he replied.’ Each and every wound had been carefully plotted, each footstep precisely measured. There wasn’t a notch in the fencepost your grandfather leaned on in your sketch that didn’t match your dream, that wouldn’t match reality in an hours time, nor the crime scene photos that would come out the following day.

It was a jarring image, bloody and sharp. A soft, gentle old man bleeding and helpless under the intense will of this trickster god, all sharp angles and hard edges.

“A work of fiction,” Tony tried to shout over the noise in the room. “What is this some grotesque fanart? Did you get this on Tumblr?”

The room erupted in a sea of volleying questions and raised hands, tall men in broad dark suits vying for Tony Stark’s attention. You’d taken the first bite and there was blood in the water. These reporters now swarmed like the sharks they so desperately wanted to be. The chaos left a vacuum, a quiet gap at the back of the room through which you could quietly slip away. While they circled the blood, you’d already made the catch.

As you passed through the door, you chanced a glance over your shoulder just in time to see Tony Stark, the biggest fish in the sea, lean away from the microphone and make a sharp command to his bodyguard. If you had to guess, you’d say it was something along the lines of “Find that damn girl with the dreams and the rock before the Chronicle does.”

Tags: strikethrough means Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you. Let me know if you’ve changed your URL and I’ll update. Otherwise if you have the NSFW setting on or your blog isn’t searchable, Tumblr may prevent tagging you. If I can’t tag you thrice, I’ll remove you from the list.

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[rockerdestiel13]

IM ALIVE-ish

lol a lot of things has changed since i’ve last been online. I’ve moved into my new apartment :) started working on a crossover (dont worry, Fear of the Moon will still be around just put on a backburner until the new crossover is far enough then ill alternate updates.) I also wanted to let you guys see abit of the crossover. It extends right after the final book of C.L. Wilson’s Tairen Soul series. So please like and comment if you like the sneak peak so far :) Happy Reading

: @stephizzle94 @kaylas-obsessions@castielspahdehrah@winchester-writes @bookshido @demondean-for-kingofhell  @supernatural-roleplayer @appleschloss @kittenofdoomage(senpai please lemme know what you think) @spnfanficpond @this-manis-playing-galaga  @rasax45 @caratala @docharleythegeekqueen@emmyhaynes@masterof-agony @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic@kaydallas21@iwrotemyownending (sorry it wouldn’t tag some of you!) @eyesoflily

I hope you enjoy and get some hype up. :) 

"What became of that Light tairen, none could say, but soon after its disappearance into the Rhakis, the waters of the Heras once more ran rich with the magical power of faerilas. And in the place that had been Boura Fell, where the Light tairen first appeared, what remained was a great monument of shining crystal, shaped like an enormous, six-pointed crown—a beacon of Light in the dark heart of Eld. And within the haven of the crystal crown’s radiant golden white light, no Darkness would ever again endure."

Carilissa watched in awe as her mother's spirit weave slowly dissolved, her small infant hands clenching and curling like the paws of a cat much to her mother's delight. The regal queen picked up her youngest child, smiling into the child’s whirling opalescent eyes. Ellyseta beamed as she watched the young eyes of a tairen look up at her from under a thick mop of hair whose colours mingled so tightly that the ebony and cinnamon formed a rich shade of fiery earth.

So young, Carilissa already showed immense promise and power in all six branches of magic - with Spirit and Azrahn being the strongest just like her mother. Ellyseta set her daughter down in her bed, a large piece of furniture carved completely by hand as a gift from her papa before he passed away. She wiped a tear from her eye as she regarded the masterpiece, protected by a subtle 5-fold weave, the visage of two adult tairen -one of ebony with amethyst eyes and one of cinnamon with gleaming emerald eyes- curled around a small nest would forever remain how it was the day Sol Baristani presented it to her oldest son, Barryl vel Daris. She tucked the small child into the blankets, so she'd remain warm during her nap, kissing Carilissa on the forehead in tender love. She smiled softly to herself, a look of motherly pride on her face as she stepped out of the room.

Her oldest Barryl was waiting for her when she came into the hallway. Ellie smiled at her son, his eyes were bright golden just like his taikomela (Grandmother), Elfeya. They were stunning when paired with the dark ebony of his gepa(father). Though his eyes weren't settled, instead whirling with tairen power. He was still young, borne a year after the second mage wages and a scant two months after Marissya's own tairen soul son, and still struggled with controlling his tairen. She could feel the rage that boiled under the surface as he looked into Carilissa's room with a gaze that radiated deadly protection. Ellie put her hand on her son's shoulder, snapping him out of the tairen rage that gripped him. He looked up at his mother, the few loose thoughts of a vengeance like the gods wrath on whoever hurt his sister, flowed into Ellie's mind before he tightened his barriers and returned her smile.

"Kem'nos.(My Son) Don't worry your sister is safe and will always be safe within the pride."

"I know mela(mother). But what if another war happens...all of us will need to fight...including her. What if I can't protect her..." He looked back towards Carilissa as she slept, his emotions still turbulent. The young child's senses were already so strong that she growled in her sleep and turned towards her older brother. Thin threads of power seeped out like a baby's grasping fingers. Barryl chucked softly, fey vision kicking in to see the multicolour threads. He accepted the slight boost of power before spinning a weave of his own. Like his mother, he was a master of Azrahn - both the dark and the light - and it showed in his weaves. Being the first male in the history of the Fey to be able to weave a glowing golden magic known as shei'dalin's love, the lighter side of Azrahn.

Ellyseta smiled softly, the natural soothing presence of her magic calming the sparks of power that danced around him like fireflies.

[twocupsofsuga]

Cherry Blossoms || Kyungsoo

D.O. x Reader (Fantasy + Royal AU)

No plagiarizing my work please.

Summary:  “Did you know,” he once told me with a smile. “That cherry blossoms in this kingdom have a special meaning behind them?”

Groaning, you rose your hands up to rub the sleep off of your eyes. Blinking a couple of times, you frowned when you noticed the spot next to you empty.

“Kyungsoo?” you whispered softly and sat up slowly, noticing how your boyfriend was nowhere to be found in your room. A thought suddenly came into your mind and you let out a sigh before slumping back into the soft mattress.

You knew where he was.

In the forest.

After a few more minutes of lying down, you began to feel lonely. So getting up with a stretch, you peeled the blankets off of you and slowly changed into your clothes which was a soft, elegant white dress, your silky brushed hair was let down and you grabbed the small emerald leaf shaped necklace that Kyungsoo had given you on your birthday.

Smiling and tracing it with your finger, you carefully slipped it around your neck and walked out of the room, not bothered to slip on any shoes as you walked through the long hallways of the palace and out of your grand, master bedroom.

You looked around to check if there were any palace guards or maids and to your relief, there weren’t.

It wasn’t because you hated them or they hated you, you were actually loved by them all, it’s just that they would end  up fussing over you, making you dress in flashy or wear shoes like high heels or something. But just right now, you didn’t want to deal with any of that.

You just wanted to find Kyungsoo.

Hearing voices coming from around a corner, you immediately stopped walking. Looking around for a place to hide, you found a door that led to another room out of hundreds in the castle and ran over it to grab the handle of the door and slowly closed it behind you when you slipped in, hiding successfully in the room.

You leaned to place an ear by the huge oak doors and listened carefully as the voices came nearer and nearer to where you hid and then grow fainter  and fainter as they walked away. They sounded like palace maids. Maybe two or three of them.

When you were sure the voices were completely out of hearing range, you quickly opened the door and went back out in the hall and this time running to the huge staircase that led down and down many floors of the palace.

It was harder than you thought. The floor cold underneath your feet as you ran here and there, occasionally hiding whenever you heard guards and maids walking by.

And at one point, a maid’s screams were heard throughout the castle, yelling that, “The lady has gone missing!!” And pretty soon, your little attempt at running away seemed to have been found out.

You would’ve given up and given yourself over to the poor maids who were always worrying about you, but you were beginning to find it slightly funny, plus you were enjoying yourself, so you continued running down various numbers of hallways and stairs, your laughter bouncing and echoing across the grand halls until you reached the ground floor and made your way over to the back of the castle.

Where the doors that led to the forest was placed.

Making your way over to the huge white glass doors, you looked out the door windows and looked at the beautiful garden that was placed directly behind the castle. And behind the royal garden, was where the royal forest was placed.

You slowly grasped the huge doorknob and then pushed the door open, the wind gently blowing in and the sunlight warming over your skin. Today really was a beautiful day.

Now fully moving outside, you closed the door behind you and you walked forward towards the garden so you could go into the forest, all while loving the way how soft the grass along the way felt underneath your bare feet as you walked and admired all the pretty flower bushes and hedges in the garden as well as the architecture of the huge castle behind you.

Once you reached the foot of the forest, you stopped and looked at all the trees, noticing some exotic plants placed around. You bought your hands up around your mouth and yelled out as loudly as you could.

“Kyungsoo!”

Silence. The only noise you could hear was the wind’s and the noise of leaves rustling. You sighed and pouted, and walked forward into the forest.

It’s not like you’ve never been inside the great, royal forest. It’s just that you always got a little lost but who cares? This place was just too beautiful to not not visit.

You walked through trees and tress and walked further in. You noticed how shapes and blurs of magical creatures flew around and looked over to see the small pond that you saw every time you came here. This forest wasn’t a magical forest for nothing. You even saw a baby dear. Aww.

Walking in deeper over many tree roots and rocks, you now began walking over to a specific location, one where you knew had Kyungsoo residing in it.

Now making out a small path as you walked on, you began to see the small rock plates beneath your feet and you could pretty soon make out the rock path that you’ve been over about a dozen times by now.

The rocks were warm against the soles of your feet thanks to the warm sunlight. And as you walked a bit further, you soon saw the rock steps that led up into another part of the forest.

Stepping on the few rocky steps, you made your way up and noticed how this part of the forest was more beautiful than the rest. Then again, this whole place all together was breathtaking.

You found yourself facing a huge river that no matter how many times you looked at it, it always looked so amazing and enchanting.

All around the river were plants, trees and bushes blooming all sorts of flowers of all colors. This river was in the exact center of the forest, and all around it were high walls of earth with a few waterfalls falling down into the river. A few roots were rooted into the river, making a small bridge to walk across which led to a small piece of land in the middle of the river which had rocks around the edges.

This small piece of earth in the center of the river had two huge boulders at the end of it and had a tree in front of it, its branches spreading out; creating what looked like a throne with vines growing on it as well as flowers. And right there sitting on the throne just looking at the trees in his royal attire was-

“Kyungsoo!”

Said boy jumped when he heard his name being yelled and his head snapped instantly in your direction and looked at your smiling figure with wide eyes.

“(Y-y/n)?!” he said surprised and sat up straight, not believing his eyes.

You beamed from where you stood and waved. “Kyungsoo!” you yelled again laughing and dashed towards him.

You started running over the roots above the water toward Kyungsoo when you heard him yelling.

“(Y/n) wait! Slow down, you’re going to fall!” you paid no attention to what he said and you continued hopping over the roots reaching him closer and closer.

“(Y/n)!”

You stopped halfway and looked at Kyungsoo with confused eyes.

The young man sighed and you noticed how worried he looked as he stood up to his full height and quickly made his way over to you. “Hold on, I’m coming, just... hold still.”

“But Soo~” you whined and pouted. “I can manage just fine! Besides, do you know how long it took me to find you-”

You were cut off when you took a step forward and you felt yourself slip backwards on a particularly wet tree root and you yelped out of instinct as you fell towards the water. You heard your name being yelled and you braced yourself for when you would hit the water, but felt nothing. Instead you felt something strong wrap around you.

“Huh?” you said and you opened your eyes.

Your eyes widened as you saw a bunch of tree branches around you, shielding you and held you in time before you had the chance to hit the water. You looked up at Kyungsoo and noticed how he had his hand up towards the tree branches that were around you that he had controlled to move from a nearby tree. You gulped at the angry look on his face.

Introducing Kyungsoo. More specifically, King Do Kyungsoo of the Earth, Heart and Soul of the forest. A.k.a, your oh so lovely boyfriend who had powers in which he could control the earth whom looked really angry right now.

He shook shook his head. “God dammit (y/n).” he said in frustration as he waved his outstretched hand towards him, the branches that held you moving in response as they moved you towards him. “What were you thinking? You could’ve gotten hurt!”

The branches moved you closer to him and Kyungsoo held out his hands as the branches moved by his command and held you above him. You reached your own hands out to him and the young king carefully carried you down, his hands strong on the sides of your waist and your hands gripping his shoulders.

You pouted. “Of course I know!”

Kyungsoo sighed and began to check you for any injuries. “What are you doing here anyways? I thought you’d still be asleep by now because of what happened last night.”

You looked up to meet your boyfriend’s cocky grin and you blushed like crazy and slapped his shoulder. “Shut up! And I was just looking for you obviously! I couldn’t find you in your rightful place in your side of the bed so I had to go out and look for you and then bring you back so we can cuddle and sleep in all day!”

Kyungsoo sighed and leaned in to kiss your forehead. “You know I have my duty as King to look after. I have a meeting with the Fire Nation’s King as well this afternoon. As much as I don’t want to, I have to.”

Your eyes widened at the mention of the Fire King and you jumped excitedly. “Chanyeol’s coming over!!”

Kyungsoo nodded but then said, “For business purpose only. He’ll go back home as soon as we’re done.”

You pouted again, making Kyungsoo laugh and kiss you. “Enough with that face.” He said with a chuckle. “Come, I want to show you something.” And with that he began to pull you over to his small makeshift throne, which was nothing compared to the real one he had inside the castle.

Once you two reached it, he sat down on it and made you sit on his lap and pointed towards the left side to where a cherry blossom tree was. “See that?”

You nodded and you felt Kyungsoo wrap his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him so he could place his chin on your shoulder. Kyungsoo smiled as you both looked over at the tree that had flower buds scattered all around it. You felt his breath against you neck.

“I planned on making them bloom today…” he breathed. “I was almost sad that I didn’t bring you here to watch them with me. But, here you are.”

You laughed. “Yup! So when will you make them bloom?”

Kyungsoo leaned in to place a small, slow kiss on your neck. And when he did, the flower buds on the cherry blossom tree instantly began to all bloom in harmony. Your eyes widened at how beautiful it all looked.

“Kyungsoo…” you gasped and turned around to look at your boyfriend. “This is absolutely amazing!”

The Earth King smiled and leaned in to kiss you. “I’m glad you like it, but do you want to know the real reason to why I’m showing this to you?”

You looked at Kyungsoo surprised. “There’s a reason? I thought you wanted to just show me.”

Kyungsoo chuckled and smiled at you. “I know you’re only an ordinary human and all that, and even though you’ve been with me for a very long time, I believe you are still not very familiar with all the Earth Kingdom culture, correct?”

You nodded.

The smile on Kyungsoo’s lips widened and he continued.

“Well, let’s just say that the cherry blossom tree is our most sacred tree in the whole kingdom, a fact I’m sure you’re already aware of. But another thing is that they also hold special meanings for everyone. And in our kingdom, usually when a male brings over a female to a cherry blossom tree and they both watch the flowers bloom, it’s actually a very special message.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Which means what?

Kyungsoo looked at you with a warm smile and held your hand in his and gave it a light kiss and looked back up to you.

“It means… will you marry me?”

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped and your heart felt like it had stopped. “What?” you whispered, not believing what you had just heard.

Kyungsoo smiled and he got up, leaving you to sit on his throne and kneeled in front of you and grabbed both of your small, delicate hands in his own big and strong ones.

He looked at you sincerely.

“(Y/n).” he began. “We’ve been together for as long as I can remember, and I can only say that they have been the most amazing years of my life. I love you so much, you’re absolutely perfect in every way and you’re so gentle with everyone around you that I can never find any flaws in you. I love you so much (y/n), so much that it sometimes hurts. So I’m asking you,”

Kyungsoo reached down into his pocket and pulled out a snow white case and your hands flew up to your mouth. Kyungsoo opened the box and inside, was a beautiful ring. Kyungsoo smiled.

“Will you do the honor of marrying me (y/n), and becoming my queen?”

Tears weld up in your eyes and you were so caught up in trying to figure out what was happening that you couldn’t say anything. Kyungsoo noticed and chuckled, grasping your right hand into his and pulled it away from your face and used his other hand to slip the ring into your ring finger.

“I’m taking your silence as a yes. No excuses.”

And then you threw yourself into Kyungsoo’s arms and you both fell to the ground with you sobbing into his chest.

“A-are you sure it’s me you want to marry?” you cried with tears in your eyes and leaned away to look at Kyungsoo. “I-I mean, I’m not that great and there’s the fact that I don’t have any earthly powers like you do and-”

You were cut off when Kyungsoo leaned up to kiss you and brought a hand up and placed it behind your head as he weaved his fingers through your hair and pulled you back down on him. When he pulled back he smiled.

“I only want you (y/n).” he said. “I don’t want anyone else who isn’t you. I choose you because like I said before, you’re perfect in every way. My people already know you and they love you too. I’m sure that they would be pleased with my decision of making you my wife.”    

You blushed at the ‘wife’ part and buried your face into Kyungsoo’s chest and blushed even more when he started to laugh and wrapped his arms around you and the two of you just lay there, enjoying each other’s warmth and just overall very happy.

You moved your face to look at the side, your head still on Kyungsoo’s chest when you noticed a small flower bloom next to you on the grass. Your eyes moved around and you noticed more and more pretty, tiny little flowers kept blooming around you.

You smiled to yourself. You had noticed that Kyungsoo tented to do this usually when he’s really happy, you were glad to know that he felt exited about you being married to him.

A sudden yelling of an unfamiliar voice made Kyungsoo instantly sit up straight in alarm, holding you in a tight grip. You gasped when you noticed pieces of the ground rip up from the earth and float around you, looking as if they were ready to attack.

You looked around when you heard yelling again. You looked up at Kyungsoo in confusion. “Soo-”

Kyungsoo quickly looked down at you sternly and placed his finger on his lips in a ‘shh’ motion and looked up with cautious eyes as they yelling grew nearer and nearer.

A figure emerged from a nearby bush and Kyungsoo was about to release and fling the floating chunks of earth at them but then quickly stopped.

It was only a palace guard.

Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes at him. “You better have a good reason for being here soldier.” he said sternly as he waved his hand, making the earth go back into the ground. “No one but I and a chosen few are allowed here in this forest. I’m sure you’re well aware of that.”

The palace guard looked troubled. “I-I know my lord, but you don’t understand! Miss (y/n) is missing and-“ he stopped midway when he noticed you sitting in the arms of his ruler.

The Earth King raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean she’s missing, she’s right here.”

The guard looked baffled upon seeing you here and then became flustered. “Uhhh… apologies my king.” He stammered while bowing. “I wasn’t aware of this fact. I shall go and inform the rest of the palace staff.” And with that he scurried away.

When he was out of sight Kyungsoo looked at you with curiosity as he raised an eyebrow. “Did you run out of the palace without informing the maids… again?”

You blushed and huffed and looked away to the side and crossed your arms. “I-It’s not my fault.” You said stubbornly. “They never allow me to have any time for myself! They’re always following me wherever I go and they won’t leave me when I tell them to. They keep going on and on saying ‘It’s what the king wants’. The heck is that supposed to mean??” you faced Kyungsoo. “Did you ask them to stay with me everywhere I go Kyungsoo?”

The boy didn’t look the least bit guilty and nodded. “It’s for your own good and safety (y/n).” he said. “You know how clumsy you are. But if it bothers you that much then I can ask them to tone it down a bit.”

You looked back at Kyungsoo and nodded. “That would be nice actually, thank you.”

You stood up, dusted your dress a bit and stretched out a hand to Kyungsoo and smiled. “Well, shall we head back to the palace? You have a meeting with Chanyeol remember?”

Kyungsoo groaned and held your hand and you pulled him up.

“Don’t remind me.” He said and you laughed.

Bonus ending:

“Chanyeol!” you screamed as you threw open the doors of the royal meeting hall.

The red headed Fire Lord jumped in his seat but when he saw you (plus a grumpy looking Kyungsoo behind you), a huge smile broke out on his face and he immediately stood up from his chair and yelled, “(Y/n)!!” just as enthusiastically.

Kyungsoo smacked himself and sighed.

This meeting looked like it was going to take a long time to finish.

~Masterlist~

(Please re-blog if you liked this one-shot, it would help my work to be shared around. Thank you!) 

[kappasigmalife]

Desolate Caladium: Chp 2

Desolate Caladium : chapter 2

Falls on me

The dead of night came quickly for us, I was able to use some of my savings to get us out of port on a cargo ship going to neighboring islands. The kingdom is in an uproar and caladium is terrified. While on the hold we were finally able to rest and I watched as he tossed and turned the entire night. Of course I wanted to tell him everything was fine but in truth how could it, losing your father, cast from your kingdom like a leper, and your only company is a guy you saved 5 years ago, and is wanted for the murder of the king. When he woke up I found him eating a basket of fruit some of the sailors gave him, tossing me a banana, he told me to eat it plenty of it considering scurvy is a thing in the high seas. Eating the fruit I notice that caladium is taking out a long dagger and looking at it.

“an azoth dagger, meant for mages who completed their training as novices and attain the rank of casters, only given when one slays a beast, never thought I’d ever unwrap the cloth to use it.” “it’s a beautiful blade prince, but why take it out now” As I ask I notice hime cut it into his long locks of hair and sees it change color, from dark brown, to a light tan.

“as of now, my name is callum, and drop the prince, I don’t have use for it no more.” When we got to port he asked me to get him clothes that were civilian instead of royal and as we walked I saw him eyeing the guards around us, looking for me.

“don’t worry if anyone notices you, ill keep them away alright.” “being a mage must really be cool.”

“well it’s the hard work that pays off.”

His hair almost looks better shorter, but of course the hair that fell off just burned away, no doubt to just simply keep from being tracked later on. He grabbed my by the arm and brings me to the marketplace where he places some cents on a man’s table asking for a place for the night. The man tells him money is no good for him as the merchants guild has been struck down by the fallen kingdom and requires assistance more than anything. He gave us the room in exchange we bring his caravan to the next city 5 miles away. Gladly accepting, callum looks at me and smiles knowing that were safe another day. That night he slept more soundly and I kept watch outside once again. I began notice the sound of a horse galloping fast around the market and place it as nothing more than rounds being done by the police force. My real concern was watching callum just sleep as the night drags on. He woke around 4 am telling me he will take over and for me to rest before we must leave again. I can tell his very focused as he doesn’t even blink as he gazes outside, his auburn eyes under the moon glistened as I looked at him before drifting off. Although my time with him has been short we have been through more than enough to know the confines of needing one another to survive in this world. He promised me that we would be okay and in retrospect we are, together we stand against the illegal acts of the coup de ta    while also running from our fate at the hands of the gallows. Forbidding himself from magic, he relies only on his brawn to keep us safe.

While the night persisting into the early morning we were able to rest enough to be ready to head out with the caravan. He took the reins and whisked us away from the market all the way to the next town in only a matter of hours, with one horse and supplies. As we arrived he received a large sum of cash that he stashed into his satchel to get us another room. Instead of a nice room in an inn, we chose to stay in the stables free of charge in order to recuperate and regroup our route away from the kingdom. His idea is to become a merchant only to provide protection as well as favors for cash in return for living quarters and start a new life. While I would like the idea of having a new life with him, it is not fair he is the one doing all the work. I requested to be sent to the local apothecary to work as a medical official and help townspeople with licensing from the city. The issue is that I need an alias as well, but callum assured me that desmond is so common it wouldn’t be an issue and effortlessly got me an emblem signifying my alliance to a med corp. as tears ran down my face I saw that he was smiling and wiped the tears from me.

“your eyes, I didn’t notice they were green, the color of life, a perfect fit for a medic.” “I never really noticed callum, thank you.” “we should celebrate, lets splurge a bit at the bar.” we drank til the hour grew late and we laughed at the expense of our new life, although much of it was running thin on the confines of time as we needed callum to still earn a living with the merchants guild. As a mage he could easily be a noble or even king, but his life was gone and he looks like hes okay with it.

“why are you so happy callum?” “huh, that’s no issue des, I just love being happy.” “but you have lost everything you had in a matter of days and you see the brighter side so quickly.” “of course I do, its because deep down the more I see the pain and anguish the easier it is for me to learn from it and become a better person throughout my life”

“why help everyone but yourself, you act like that’s your purpose.” “as a mage that is how I am born to be, to use magic as a way of helping instead of destroying as my master would say, but now I cant without being outed by the guards.” As I think back at all the things hes had to endure its more prevelant now that I merely only know one minute of his life aside from the entirety. He went on to tell me of his childhood, when his mother died when he was born due to the inheritance of her magic, his father showering him with affection even though he was king, spending time with other kids his age accidently hurting them only to have one friend who understood him.

“I fear that he may come soon, he is the most powerful knight of my fathers council and his bloodline is laced in carnage and bodies.” “how come, isn’t he your friend.” “because its his duty to protect the kingdom, as of now were seen as fugitives and at the same time as victims of conspiracy, but that doesn’t matter to them, they wish to seek control and end the kings familial bloodline one way or another.” “you really are a brave man, I don’t get how you could ever…..” he cut me off placing his hand on my mouth and gesturing me to leave with him. Sneaking out the back he pulled me into a back aisle in the road where he snuck behind the crates. A large hulking figure was looming around stopping in the aisle before moving on. I knew something was different, he was reeking of blood and seemed like the type to end a many for simply arguing with him.

“already found us, and not even three days passed, well done black knight, may we settle our debate tonight or shall I continue to elude you.” As I blinked the man came between us narrowly slicing me with a odd weapon, a sword and staff combined. He looked at both of us and kicked me into the crates as he went to take on callum, whose leaped in the air to the rooftops grabbing his azoth dagger. The man followed suit and I could only watch as they continually fought clashing blades and running after one another.

“for a man who is the kings lapdog, it’s a surprise you didn’t decide to kill him.” “true I didn’t, but given the price I can easily take his sons hide as my own trophy.” “always the morbid talker, taking any price for the job, taken any price for a rescue.” Callum had blasted him off right at my feet landing on his head. As soon as I thought he was dead, he rose back up cracking his neck into place and laughing.

“losing your touch caladium, you really surprise me without your true magic showing.”

“its callum, and what did I expect from the son of the impaler, or as I call you guys, the failed kinship.” “ouch most damage you ever gave me” Callum was getting more and more serious in this fight and all I could do was watch as the two moved more quickly than ever at each other. The metal of the blades going back and forth like a wavering dance of who would lead next, until chris began incantations.

“caelum hoc urere flammis bestia”

“oh goodie breaking out the dead language that gonna be fun.”

A burst of flames erupt from callums blade and strikes the man into the wall allowing him to grab me and run. The man gets up and gives chase merely cornering us and getting to grab my by the collar as I tried to run. Putting his blade to my neck he asked for me to drop mine and come with him. Doing so callum gives into the demands and leaves. I pick up his azoth dagger and glows in the direction he left with the man. Following the signal I come to see the man with piercing red eyes and golden hair curled with a massive beard. The two are drinking together near the shore and I sneak to see what is going on.

“its been years bro, how have you been?” “tough, but you know what its like in the kingdom.” “yeah true I don’t get it either but they pay well, and again im sorry to hear about your dad.” “he was old and things happen, but thank you for the sentiment.” “pleasure now that I know your good on your own, im gonna tell them your dead, and so is that nurse fellow.” “thank you for this, Trev” “least I could do after busting your ass to get me the knights gig, a vampiric knight of the council god everone flipped.” “those were the good old days.” I watched as callum got up and hands over a emerald pendant as the black knight rises and takes it from his grasp.

“payment for this favor, you know the drill.” “ill find two loathsome vermin in town your size and axe them off, then you disguise them yourself, that will act as proof of your death.” “not the first time we did this, go to the east district that where most of the mongrels live.” “good to know, and by the way, why hang around that kid.” “I see something in him innocent, that’s been masked for a long time, also his smile is adorable.”

[theotherbackgrounder]

“Goodbye Sister” - Mysticons Fanfiction

Death

Dragon flames that can burn bright white light. Wolf’s howls that can break even the deafening silence of the night. The Phoenix’s life that can rekindle even in the deepest depths. The unicorn’s horn that can pierce even the blackest of black.

This is what the darkness was going up against. Why did the shadow believe it could actually win?

What was merely seconds felt like hours, but yet as if to contradict itself it had seemed as if time itself slowed down to a crawl.

Tazma’s body hit the ground cold hard and fast. The very life of her erupted from her in a form of gasp as the back her of head bounced off of the cement floor. The four Mysticon warriors continued with their attack. This was their final battle after all.

There was no time to think, Tazma’s body pushed past the pain that screamed to her mind as she quickly pushed her body off the ground as the weapons that tried to claim her where she once was, shattering the concrete into debris. It was as if the space itself around them slowed.

Maintaining her footing as she landed she quickly drew a step back as she positioned herself into a new stance, drawing her sharp nails across as if she was trying to slice the air itself, an echoing sound came from beneath her as the water around her gave off their signature splash. Her grit face of determination was quickly met with adversity.

The four Mysticons - Dragon Mage, Ranger, Knight, and Striker – stood before her. None of them wore the determination that they were accustomed to. No, what she was greeted with was with vicious strife, ones willing to make her suffer for the sins she had committed.

The rain continued to drizzle around them creating a frigid atmosphere among the five warriors. Tazma gritted her teeth as she tried to fight away the rising chill that nipped at her heart. The air grew tense with every passing moment. The disparity of power between her and them were at great odds, there was no way she was going to win.

I’ll destroy them all! She steeled her resolve

Stop pretending! You’re actually scared, aren’t you?

Why would I b-

Then why are you shaking so much?

It was true; the woman that had boasted her entire self for this moment, her numb limb was quailing before the overwhelming odds.  

Isn’t it obvious? Everyone is afraid to dying. Everyone feels the same. Not too long ago that particular person felt the same as well. Can’t you hear it? Your heart is trembling. It’s scary, is it not?

“What’s your point?” Tazma said in a voice so small no one but her own mind could hear her. She wasn’t going to cower and run away from this fight. That for sure she knew.

They aren’t worried about you. They are worried about their loved ones, their family and friends. Can’t you see? They realize if they let you live you will only bring them even more unfortunate events. Each one of them is determined to do it.

Disbelief hung in front of Tazma as her own thoughts began to betray her; she glanced anxiously at the gazes before her moving both here and there. What she saw sent a cold chill down her spine.

Through the rain soaked hair were eyes filled with determination each as if attempting to stab her with their hatred. She knew instinctively what each one was conveying to her with their silent conviction.

Tazma’s throat was tight; she was beginning to have a time breathing in and out. Just the silence between them was enough to send a tense shudder down her body.

This is it, isn’t? This is where you are going to die, isn’t?

“No it isn’t…” she ached in spite of herself.

Quit lying.

Almost screaming to instinctively cover her fear as to not lose hear, darkness started to emit from her finger tips.

This is the final fight!

“I’M OKAY WITH THAT!” she screamed as she launched her magic at the Mysticon Warriors. Darkness erupted from her arms like starving death seeking light to erase. Like canine starved to death bearing their teeth, they would devour both flesh and bone. She would remove them all with this movie.

In one moment, Tazma would feel the hot piercing pain through her shoulder. In the next moment, she would witness as her magic would dissipate before her very eyes. All the emotion she put into it simply discarded as if it was the ravings of a small child throwing a temper tantrum. As if fate itself tried to rebuke her of her fantasy.

The silence fell, Zarya, Mysticon Ranger, lowered her bow, her aim as true and noble as the wolf itself.

Tazma fell to her knees, screaming in pain as she now hugged her now punctured arm. She could feel her strength start to leave the right side of her body. But she had no time to worry about that, she still had one more arm after all.

Pain manifested as a scream, Tazma launched another spell, this time it launched like a serpent looking for the forbidden fruit. Fangs as poisonous as its master it would latch own and drain away anything and everything.

As if to cut away any hope that Tazma may have had, a pink hilted blade cut through her magic like it was simply butter. She nearly was petrified as she watched the Mysticon Knight, Emerald, swipe down her attempt to fight back and charged at her through the splashing grounds, her blade emitting its signature pink flame that wouldn’t dare be dowsed by the rain.

Tazma had no time to react, her body fighting through pained tried to pull herself up as the dwarf knight of the Mysticon swung her blade vertically at her head. It was only a miracle it of itself that she was able to bring of a shield of blackness. Emerald kept slamming away, each thrust breaking away at the only defense between life and death.

You can’t win!

Almost as if to defy the words of fate themselves, Tazma found the strength somehow pull herself away from the onslaught. Not letting the lifeline given to her go, she launched an attack with her only good hand. She would at least take one down. But it the outcome was already a forgone conclusion. Because within a split second of throwing her laze attempt of an attack, Tazma found herself into a position as her arm was twisted behind her as she was forced to double by her assailant.

The “Party Bringer” of the Mysticon, Striker, otherwise known as Piper, used her circus level of acrobatic skills to not only use her magic hoops to protect her friend but also used it as a way to wrench Tazma’s arm behind her back. Using the back of her leg Striker not only to finish the arm lock, but to position Tazma into a position that was more befitting of the only way these girls saw her at this moment. Something that needed to gotten rid of.

Tazma pulling away, more like was let go, looked squarely at the elf in the face. To be the center of hatred of a character that was filled with so much love would leave one in chills. As if desperately trying to rack her mind around the situation that she was in, Tazma clumsily threw a punch after punch at the elf.

Perhaps adapting on a fly, or even out of pity, Piper dodged every blow that thrown at her and countered with her own attack to match everyone – striking her with her own punch or kick or with her magic hoop. Thinking of such an answer as cold as this coming from the kindest of the Mysticons, Tazma felt dread with each and every blow that struck her to the core.

Another punch from the team’s striker and the being of the shadows hit the ground with a splashing stomp.

If that’s all the power you have then all that training was worthless in the end!

“SHUT UP!” a scream cut through the air from the bottom of her heart. This would probably be Tazma’s last attempt as she leapt at the Mysticons before her body would erupt in green flames. But that wasn’t the true attack as the staff of the Mysticon Dragon Mage nearly punctured her throat.

Arkayna, the one that probably lost the most to the traitor of the Astromancers, dislodged the dragon staff and swiveled it into the back of her neck, sending straight to the ground where she belonged. She killed her parents, it was the least she could do.

Not even getting a second to grasp the life that was forced from her body, the dragon mage continued her ruthless assault. Showing every bit of training she has had, striking at many points of her body with just the tip of her staff. Not wanting to kill her, but enough to do damage. She clearly wanted to make her suffer.

Gripping Tazma by her collar, Arkayna dragged her to her feet, meeting one another eye-to-eye. The rage in her eyes rivaled that of the Dragon’s hottest flames. Said flames erupted from the dragon mage’s staff, sending the shadow user to the ground.

Tazma had no time to react, she was close to death’s door, and all she could was attack. Mind spinning crazy like a wheel out of control, she tried to attack the Mysticons once again. The sound of her footfalls striking against the despairing sea at her feet was he only sound in this serene silence.

There was no thought in such an attack. Every time tried to attack, she was simply stricken back. She had no plan, she had no idea, and it was simply a dying woman’s last attempt to live. Every blow to her body felt like a speed bus hitting her aching body. All she was doing at this point was flailing around. This was clearly not a fight but a murder. It was all a struggle.

And it was all meaningless.

Then as if in synced, full power of the Dragon, Wolf, Phoenix, and Unicorn erupted from their wrist gauntlet. Literally the time it took to blink was all it took as Tazma herself was engulfed in the power of the Mysticons that she so desired. It was an ironic twist of fate.

Pain and fear manifested itself in a scream that could have been overheard over the erupting magic, her mouth agape by what could only be described as her very soul had been ripped out of her very body.

Then the screams were cut suddenly as her body struck a brick wall full force like a truck in wreck.

The magic soon dissipated and Tazma’s limp body fell to the ground. She was barely gasping for breath. She was barely alive.

She could feel herself losing herself, faltering, wavering. She could feel her body starting to drift. The very breath she tried to force herself to contain wasn’t going to keep her connected much longer.

It’s over…

“…” it wasn’t even a whisper, it would not even be considered inaudible. “No…” there was nothing left in her body and yet “This isn’t… over yet…” and yet she somehow found the strength. More like the undead she worked with, Tazma tried with everything in her power to stand to her feet. It was even a miracle she just didn’t die right then and there. Her vision faltering, she looked at the group that nearly did her in “This isn’t the end…Mysticons…” she spoke in barely what could be even called voice. Something was starting to form. “Next time, I’ll win…” her very own shadow came to life. It was her emergency escape. She would leave and next time…next time for sure she would get them. She would get her revenge if it was the last thing she would d-

There is no next time…

Almost as if she was ripped out of the reality of her own shadow, she found herself pinned up against the wall, a hand wrapped around her neck. The one that now held her down wasn’t the Mysticons -

Everyone must die!

“Mal…varon…”  -It was her own brother. Fear clouded Tazma’s eyes as she struggled in her own sibling grasp, the very life being choked out of her. She was losing strength, her consciences fading. Everything was losing weight. She tried to fight back but she no longer had the will. Then her eyes popped.

Malvaron raised his free hand, magic started to form. Tazma finally realized what it meant. That the final blow to take away her life was always meant to be from her brother. The Mysticons were in fact going easy on her.

“Good Bye, Tazma!”

In a single moment she remembered everything about her brother. True they always fought but they also once loved one another. They played together. They ate together. During the darkest of nights, her brother would always be with him.

She remembered her jealousy. He was a gifted Astromancer. No matter how much she trained she would never be as strong as him. Had he even tried to learn lessons from their teachers, surely he would have been the one destined to become the next leader.

It was her very own jealousy that created her own downfall. It was her own fault that she became a shadow user. It was her own fault she joined Dreadbone. It was her fault she was in this mess. It was her fault she was going to die. It was her own fault she was going to be killed by her own brother.

It was all her fault.

She regretted everything.

She wanted to try again.

“I’m sorry…”

All she felt was barely a noticeable pinch into her chest when suddenly her entire body was drowned in her very own darkness.

Her essence was slipping, as if being pulled into the murky abyss that was her own shadow.  

Countless, countless regrets suffocated Tazma.

And with that Tazma’s consciousness faded away.