#i had fun in Once Dead and being a judge in Future Battles

[v3joker]

i'm rewatching old OCT MVs on YouTube

it feels like 2011/2012 all over again

...i miss those days

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Manhattan Sunsets

Pairing: Arvin Russel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arvin gets stationed in Brooklyn after a tour in Vietnam but had never really gone into the city before. When he does, he meets Y/N, who makes it a point to get this small town boy to see the city. (Requested by @euphoriaoxygen​)

Warnings: Brief mentions of PTSD from the war

Word Count: 3950

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get out. I killed my computer, had to buy a new one, and then I had to catch up on school but I’m hoping to get more fics out. 

________________________________

When Arvin left Knockemstiff, he had no idea what he was planning to do with his life. What could he do? He murdered four people. The idea alone left him feeling sick to his stomach but he knew that at the end of the day, that was exactly what had happened. It wasn’t that he regretted any of it. Preston Teagarden had to pay for his role in Lenora’s suicide and the harm of who knows how many other girls. Carl, Sandy, and Sheriff Lee were all going to kill him first. He knew at least the last three were self-defense, but what did the police think? 

A few weeks had gone by since he left Knockemstiff, traveling to Cincinnati with that nice fella that had given him a ride. Those weeks had given him time to really sit and think about his future. That was when he realized that he didn’t really have plans. His entire life, he told himself he’d get out of Coal Creek eventually. The last thing he wanted to do was die in that little God forsaken town but, beyond that, he didn’t really know. He honestly figured that his life would begin whenever his grandmother and Uncle Earskell passed away so they didn’t need him to care for them anymore. That was all out of the cards now, though, knowing that he’d endanger them just by going back. 

On Tuesday of the third week, he found himself at a recruiter’s office in Fort Thomas, Kentucky, enlisting for the army. If he was being honest with himself, even as he signed the papers, he knew he didn’t want to go overseas. The Vietnam War was one that practically nobody supported, including Arvin. He never understood why the U.S. felt the need to be involved in a battle that had literally nothing to do with us but the army came with a bed to sleep in, food to eat, a paycheck, and some benefits after (if) you got out. All of those were things that Arvin desperately needed. 

Basic training was a breeze. He’d been hardened by years of manual labor, both around his grandmother’s farm and doing construction around town. The other men had initially poked fun at him for his accent and his seemingly smaller stature compared to some of the 6’0”+ giants. That all stopped though the first time they saw him shed his shirt, revealing a rippling six pack of abs beneath taught skin and arms that had definitely seen more work than half of these bigger men. 

After basic training, he found himself stationed at Fort Hamilton Army Base in Brooklyn, NY. The army life was pretty close to what he’d imagined: rigorous, demanding, exhausting. Shortly after “settling in” at Fort Hamilton (if you can call being there for two weeks “settling in”), he was deployed across seas to fight in the battle of Ia Drang Valley before returning shortly after. 

It was a Saturday morning and Arvin found himself picking through his food like he did every morning. With a heavy sigh, he set down his meal pack. 

“You alright?” Willard Kast, one of his friends that had survived Ia Drang with him, asked from across the table. 

Arvin began to nod but it turned more into a head shake, “Ya ever just feel like everythin’s the same?” 

Kast laughed, “Well, yeah,” He said as if it was obvious, “They don’t exactly have us here to have fun.” 

“Yeah, but I… I don’t know. Guess I just sorta feel like my life is going on around me but I’m not goin’ with it.” Arvin was never known to be the person who actually spoke about his feelings. For some reason though, this war had just brought out a sudden mortality crisis of sorts. Every time he thought back to those memories of everyone he’d lost, whether it be his mother, father, dog, sister, or war buddies, the dead, blank eyes that stared back at him only seemed to be ghosts of lives still unlived. He didn’t want to be haunted by those same spirits. 

Kast smacked Arvin’s arm and beckoned for him to stand up, “Alright, you, up. Now. You’re getting off base today.” 

“I don’t even know where I’d go if I left.” Arvin huffed, standing up. 

“That’s the fun of it. Just go! Get out of this God forsaken place. See what you find.” Kast had always been oddly upbeat, especially compared to all the people Arvin had ever known growing up. Maybe it was the fact that anything Arvin had ever done felt like an accumulation of negativity so that it felt like there was no “fun in it” as Kast would put it. His friend noticed his hesitation before adding, “You do know what fun is, right?” 

Arvin chuckled a little bit, “Honestly, I don’t know if I do.” 

Within the hour, Arvin found himself dressed in civilian clothes for the first time in a while, a plain white t-shirt with blue jeans and some old, beat-up, black converse with his denim jacket slung over his shoulders. It was getting into autumn now and, though the sun still shone, there was a chill in the breeze. 

Once he stepped off base, he started on his aimless wandering down the streets. Arvin looked up in awe at the tenements and office buildings, sometimes built over restaurants or drug stores. Even though he'd been stationed in Brooklyn for a little while now, he'd never actually taken the time to explore the city. This small town boy was almost overwhelmed. 

Horns of vehicles beeped occasionally and trains roared overhead on raised tracks. On many streets, kids played with balls or some version of baseball with a busted off plank of wood instead of a real bat. Some others were running around just playing tag. A small smile upturned the corner of his lips as he watched them laugh out of the corner of his eye. He wished he'd had something like this growing up. Friends.  

Off to his left, a drug store caught his eye and he dipped in to grab a pack of cigarettes. They didn’t have anything fancy, not that he needed anything that was. Just a pack of the most mediocre selection they had was what he’d left with, lighting one up as he continued his stroll down the street. 

He kept his baseball cap down low, trying to blend in with the rest of the passerby. Arvin had never been one for calling attention to himself. Even in a new place, like Brooklyn, he figured passing through unnoticed would be the best way to go. 

“Mother fu- Just work!” 

Arvin hadn’t had his curiosity piqued by much on this stroll through the city but the disgruntled groans of a girl definitely drew his attention. He slowed his walk just slightly and looked around for the root of the complaints. There was a group of kids playing jacks to his right on the steps leading into a tenement but it was clear that they weren’t the angry woman in question. 

Just ahead, to his left, a car was pulled off to the side of the street and you popped up from the front right side of your car, an annoyed look on your face. You pressed against the car and leaned back, stretching your back out for a moment, before kicking what he assumed to be the tire with a frustrated outcry. 

“Okay, okay…” You breathed, trying to calm down, an almost hysterically frustrated smile on your face, like when you’re so mad that you have no choice but to laugh because, if you don’t, you’re going to punch a wall. Again, you disappeared, crouching back down. Arvin couldn’t see what you were doing but judging by the dragging of metal, he assumed you were trying to fix a tire. 

Arvin approached the back of your car to see you knelt down, the knees of your flare jeans rubbed black from the pavement. You were leaning with all your might onto a bar that curved and hooked onto the bolts on your very flat tire. However, he was impressed to see the jack placed properly and already up in the right position- not that it was a woman thing…. He’d just seen plenty of idiots place the jack in the wrong place. 

“Sorry to bother but you look like you could use a hand.” Arvin offered politely, stepping closer. 

You turned to look at him with a start, not expecting anyone to speak. Arvin couldn’t help the small smile that crept on his face when he noticed the smear of grease across your cheek. Hair stuck up astray in a few places from you brushing it back and out of your face. 

It had always been a goal of yours to not need a man. You’d seen plenty of women in your life dependent on their husbands, daddies, and brothers to do everything for them and then seen them lose everything when they realized all they could do was cook and clean. Not to discredit cooking and cleaning as valuable life skills, because they absolutely were, but you were not going to be some damsel in distress whenever you needed an oil change or got a flat tire. 

But, as much as you hated to admit it, these bolts were giving you a run for your money. After having been at this for nearly twenty minutes to no avail, you sighed in defeat, “I mean, if you wouldn’t mind giving it a try, that would be real nice. I’ve been working at it for nearly twenty minutes and nothing.” 

“Here,” Arvin reached his hand out for the pull bar and you stepped aside to allow him room. He notched the socket over the bolt and pushed, trying to crack the bolt. You definitely weren’t exaggerating. Whoever put this on had done a number tightening it. Arvin tried again, leaning into the bar. The denim of his jacket tightened around his flexing muscles as he did so until, finally, it cracked loose and the bolt gave way, twisting. 

With a wipe of your hand across your face, you sighed. It took all your might to (unsuccessfully) not imagine the way this man’s muscles must have been bulging beneath his jacket as he cranked the bar. 

Once it cracked loose, it was easy work to get the bolt off. By the time Arvin had arrived, you’d already managed to get all but two bolts off so he continued to work on the last one without you asking. 

“Oh- I can get that!” You interjected, leaning down to go to grab the bar back. 

Arvin stood up and shook his head, “No, no, it’s no problem. I’m glad to help.” 

When he returned to turning the bolts, you took a step back, brow cocked and arms crossed, “You’re not from around here, are you?” 

The bolt clanged to the ground with a metal clink and Arvin knelt down to shimmy the tire off, “Is it that obvious?” He chuckled, looking up at you as he rolled it to the side. You’d already had the spare ready to go right beside the old one and he grabbed it, wiggling it into place. 

You chuckled, “People don’t really go out of their way to help strangers here. And I like the accent. It’s cute. You from Tennessee or something?” 

Arvin froze up. Should he tell you? What were the chances of you knowing anything relating to the issues of his past? “Ohio.” 

“I didn’t know you guys had accents back there.” You leaned against the side of the car, watching him work on the tire for you. 

He tightened up the bolts all within the tire, “Depends on where you live, I guess.” Arvin pressed himself up, wiping his hands on his jeans as he did, “There ya go. You should be all set.” 

You stood up straight and ran your hands on your striped brown, black, and white turtleneck, your face contorting in annoyance when you realized you smeared grease on your favorite sweater. Arvin smirked a little when he noticed the action. 

You were pretty cute. Arvin felt a little confused. Girls back in Coal Creek had never really caught his eye. They were all so similar, just slight variations of each other. There were the hyper-religious good girls but they all reminded him too much of his sister. Either that or they were the girls who hung out with boys like Gene Dinwoodie and that was just a whole crowd that Arvin had no intention of associated with. 

“You really didn’t have to do all that… but thank you for the help.” Your hands rubbed together, the faint black debris marking your fingers. “I have a few bucks. Let me buy you a coffee or something as a thank you?” 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.” Arvin readjusted his hat on his head. 

“Please, I insist. You just changed my tire.” You pressed, tucking your hand into your back pocket and crossing your ankles as you leaned against the car. Arvin stood a little closer to you, still a polite distance away, but there was a way he looked down at you that just made butterflies go through your stomach. 

Maybe this was what Kast meant. Maybe this was some of that life he should be living, that adventure he should be having. “Alright. But I don’t really know where anything is around here so….” 

“Don’t worry, I got you.” You smiled, “I know a place a few blocks away if you’re up for it? They have some pretty good pie too. Oh, and I’m Y/N by the way.” 

Nerves bubbled in Arvin’s stomach but something made him nod his head, almost against his will, “Arvin,” He nodded a small greeting, “And, yeah, that sounds nice.” 

With a smile, you tapped on the hood of your car and nodded your head over to the passenger side, “It’s not too far but it’s kind of cold. I’d rather drive personally but we can walk if you’re more comfortable with that.” 

The offer took Arvin back to his time hitchhiking his way out of Coal Creek and Knockemstiff. There had been a few bad experiences with handsy truckers and women who’d picked him up but they didn’t erase the memory of his first pick-up with Carl and Sandy. We all know how that ended… 

But he’d made it out of all of those situations, even if just barely, and he honestly didn’t feel uneasy around you. There was an endearing, hardworking, down-to-earth yet friendly energy you gave off that managed to put Arvin at ease. Before he knew it, he was sitting in the front seat of your car as you sped off down the road. 

The day had passed quickly with you and before Arvin knew it, it was already almost sunset. Coffee and pie had turned into a two hour long stay with the two of you talking about life which had in turn turned into a stroll through the city. 

He’d told you about how he had some family issues growing up and left his hometown to join the army. Your exact response was, “I’d say thank you for your service but I don’t exactly support the war if I’m being honest.” 

Arvin sipped his coffee and raised his eyebrows exasperatedly, “Neither do I.”

You told him about how you had been born and raised in Brooklyn, working at a local record shop to save up for a place of your own. You told him all about your career goals and how you wanted to find somewhere you felt like you really belonged. Brooklyn was your home, it always would be, but you felt like there was something else out there for you. 

Talking to you was easy- easier than anyone since Arvin’s mother. He couldn’t explain it but the quiet, secretive boy found himself at ease with you, not only willing to but wanting to open up to you. Maybe it was the adorable way you made it a point to smell your coffee before you drank it, taking in the comforting, rich scent, or maybe it was residue of grease still on your shirt. Arvin couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but he was attracted to you in a way he hadn’t been attracted to anyone in his entire life. 

“Hey,” You perked up, “You said you’ve never really left base, right?” 

Arvin nodded, self-conscious about his lack of adventurous spirit, as Kast would put it, “Unfortunately.” 

“You need to do all the stupid tourist things in New York.” You hit the countertop excitedly, as if the grandest idea anyone had ever had had occurred o you. 

Arvin’s face scrunched up and he shook his head, looking away, “Nah, that ain’t really my thing.” 

“C’mon,” You pressed, holding onto his forearm enthusiastically, “I’m not saying you gotta go stand around and get mugged in Time Square or anything but I think you should experience the city while you’re out here!” 

Sightseeing had never interested Arvin. Hell, he never really even thought he’d make it out of Coal Creek, if he was being honest with himself. Even if he did, he just expected to end up in some other shit hole town that was the same with different people. He never really put much thought into what he wanted to do. His mind had just been so consumed with what he needed to do. 

Arvin swivelled in his chair to face you, “Well what would you suggest that a newcomer go see here?” 

It didn’t take you long at all to think up an idea, “Can you stay out till sunset?” 

_____ 

Manhattan was definitely a different feel from Brooklyn. Arvin felt almost anxious here with all the cars and people and whatnot. He thought the army base was crowded but that was nothing compared to the bustle of the heart of New York City. Skyscrapers dwarfed neighboring buildings, casting shadows that somehow made Arvin feel miniscule in comparison. 

“Here we are!” You exclaimed excitedly, disappearing through the revolving door of a classy looking building. Arvin followed you inside, meeting with you in the large main room. There was a window with a man behind it that you approached, “Two tickets to the top please.” You dug into your small white purse and pulled out a few bills and handed them to the man in exchange for tickets. 

“Wait, what’re you buyin’?” Arvin stepped over to you, about to interject the transaction. The last thing he wanted was you spending more money on him.  

“Tickets.” You said as if it were obvious.

“To what?” He asked, confused. 

You turned around, two tickets in hand, with a smile, “Do you not know where we are yet?” Arvin slowly shook his head, wondering why he was supposed to. “We’re at the Empire State Building!” 

Arvin had heard of the building, even seen pictures of it in a history book one time, but he really didn’t know much about it. Big cities had never been his interest but seeing the way your eyes lit up with excitement to show him made all reservations melt. 

The elevator ride up was nerve wracking to say the least. It wasn’t severe but Arvin had developed minor PTSD from the war. He’d seen many men get killed or trapped, dragged away and unable to escape. This metal death box traveling up hundreds of stories made him feel trapped. He hadn’t noticed that he started rocking back and forth on his heels, gripping his own biceps, until you put a gentle hand on his arm, “You okay?” 

With a shaky breath, Arvin nodded and put on a smile, “Yeah. Elevators just make me kinda nervous.” 

The elevator stopped at one level but you dragged him up several flights of stairs to get to the very top where you could stand on the balcony. 

It was fairly busy but not unenjoyably so. “Okay, come over here!” Yet again, Arvin found himself being led by you to the very edge, leaning on the high railing. “What do you think?” 

It was breathtaking, beyond anything Arvin had ever seen. The sun was now setting, casting a warm orange-pink hugh on the city. The buildings and streets were illuminated with tiny lights, creating a sea of little flickering stars. In the far distance, the ocean stretched on for miles. Even the sky was beginning to try and match the city, though the few stars that were beginning to peek through the sunset were nearly drowned out by the light of the city. 

“It’s amazin’.” Arvin sighed out, almost overwhelmed. So this was the world outside of Coal Creek?

“Isn’t it something?” Arvin glanced down to see you looking down at the city with such adoration. A warm, orange glow cast across your face, accenting every beautiful feature. But then you turned to face him and he nearly stopped breathing. He knew from the first moment he met you that you were an attractive woman but you looked absolutely radiant now. 

Tension began to rise when you realized how close you were to the man. Your hips were almost touching as you stood side by side. Your hands were mere centimeters apart on the safety railing. 

Arvin could have gotten lost in your eyes but you tore your gaze away, returning it to the city. Instead, you slowly inched your hand towards his until your fingers touched his, testing the waters. He tensed up, looking down to see your fingers nudging his. He glanced back over at you to see your eyes flick questioningly to his. 

Arvin closed the gap between you, intertwining his fingers with yours. Your heart fluttered out of your chest when you felt him pull you ever so slightly closer to him. Your head rested on his shoulder and your free hand came up to grab his arm. 

“Y’know, if changing strangers’ tires is gonna turn out like this, I’m gonna have to start doin’ it more often.” He teased but his voice sounded sincere. Of all the possibilities that today had, this was not one that he had imagined when he left base this morning. Holding onto a beautiful girl at the top of the Empire State Building seemed like something out of a movie, not something that happened to real people. 

The sun fully set and the stars came out, rivaling the city lights in a display of firework-like sparkles. The full moon acted almost as a spot light in the dark sky, drawing your attention. Arvin had no idea how long the two of you had been standing there but he felt like he could stand there for forever. 

Eventually, you shifted against his side and your voice popped up, soft and quiet, “Hey, Arvin?” 

“Hm?” 

“Maybe we can see each other again?” You twisted in his grasp, which had now traveled to be around your shoulders. Now you looked straight up at him, faces only a small distance apart. 

The corners of Arvin’s lips turned up, “I’d like that.” 

Your arms were wrapped around his torso and his arms were encasing your body, resting on your upper back. Arvin’s eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes and back down again, as if asking for permission before going in. Both of you slowly inched towards each other before your lips touched in the middle. His lips were surprisingly soft and gentle against yours in the sweet, slow kiss. 

When you pulled away, neither of you opened your eyes for a few moments, just resting your foreheads against each other. “Call me a fool for falling for a girl I just met but I think I like you.” Arvin admitted with a satisfied smile, pulling you closer to him. 

[ordinaryschmuck]

What I Thought About the First Season of--

Salutations random people on the internet who most likely won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

When I first saw the sneak peek of--

...I...didn't...think it would be anything all that special. I love animation, and I love superheroes, so it would go without saying that I would love an animated series about superheroes. But the animation looked a little too stiff for my liking, and aside from featuring J.K. Simmons, there wasn't anything grabbing me when it comes to this show.

Then I heard some s**t goes down at the end of episode one. So, letting my curiosity get the better of me, I binged the entire series in a day to see what the fuss was about. And, um...Yeah. Holy s**t.

This is a series that will very much make you uncomfortable in all the right ways. However, it is a gigantic gorefest at times, so if you get queasy after a single drop of blood, DON'T WATCH THIS SHOW! Trust me, you will not be prepared for what this series has to offer.

At the same time, I highly recommend you watch this series before reading this review. I'm going to spoil major plot points and characters so I can appropriately discuss what I think about the season, so trust me when I say you should click away if you haven't watched it yet. It's one of those series that are better to go in as blind as possible. You can call it a cheap way to appeal to shock value, but I call it one of the best reasons why--

...Is a contender for best-animated series of the decade--That bit with the title card isn't going away anytime soon, is it?

WHAT I LIKE

The Guardians of the Globe vs. The Mauler Twins: This is the best possible way for the series to begin. The first fight scene is bright, colorful, and kinda fun. Thus setting the ultimate expectation subversion in making audiences think that will be the series staple. However, just because it has the energy of a harmless superhero fight, there is a sense of intensity as the Guardians give their all in saving others. Like that moment with Darkwing (Not the duck) as he rescues that woman without hesitation, despite knowing he might die because of it. Or Green Ghost, who just barely rescues all those civilians from that falling debris. It shows that you don't need intense scenes of violence to make a fight scene thrilling to watch.

Diversity Wins: I don't know how diverse the comics are compared to the show, but I'm impressed with how inclusive this series is. So many members of the main cast are people of color, with the main lead being half-Korean. And it's not just different races that the series shines a light on, as we also get the rare, but very much welcomed, animated male gay character. Who's thankfully isn't cliched in ten ways to Sunday...for the most part. It really does seem like writers are starting to grow up and that it's better to be as inclusive as possible instead of pretending certain people don't exist for the sake of "convenience." It might not solve oppression in general, but it certainly makes certain people feel better, even if it is briefly.

Mark Grayson: Mark is a pretty solid super-protagonist if you ask me. Sure, at first, he comes across as whiney...and even more so in later episodes, but he's really an endearing character at times. Mark nails the role of the relatable everyman that's also inspirational with his determination since he never gives up until beaten to the inch of his life. Seriously, while he might not entirely be--

...I guess that bit with the title card really isn't going away.

Anyways, while he might not entirely be invulnerable in the literal sense, he is very much so in the figurative sense. Mark, in so many ways, refuses to call quits once he finally gets the hang of being a superhero, which is what makes him so inspirational. Plus, it's funny seeing how much of a rookie he can be to the gig at times. Mark is far from a perfect lead but is still charming to a fault, and it's nice seeing him grow more heroic each episode. I hope to see him develop more in future seasons, as he has the potential to be ranked higher up as one of my favorite superheroes (it's hard to compete with Spider-Man and Batman, but he'll make me consider it).

Debbie Grayson: This is almost what I expect a mother and wife of superheroes would be. 

Your son is constantly crash landing in your yard? Tell him to knock it off because he's past his curfew. 

Your husband disappeared into another dimension to fight off invaders? Shrug it off and expect that he'll be late for dinner.

It's a ton of fun to watch, and I adore how supportive she is of Mark, despite how much danger he could be in as a superhero. But, what really endears me with Debbie is her complicated feelings with Omni-Man. There's not a doubt in my mind that she loved him with her whole heart, but she also isn't an idiot. She is quick to pick up how unheroic her husband can be at times, often scolding him for it when necessary. And when she finally starts investigating if he really did kill the Guardians, I love that she instantly comes up with every single plausible excuse she can, despite knowing the truth. Because she believes that she knows who Omni-Man is and refuses any possibility that he might be a supervillain. So when she finds out that there really is no other explanation and hearing him call her a pet (big ouch when that happened), you wanna know what she does? She cries. Not because the man she loved is gone forever, but because the idea of him is. And it's that level of emotional devastation that comes from those complicated emotions that make me think Debbie Grayson is the most complex and endearing character on the show. And I. Will. Stand by that.

Seeing the Guardians of the Globe on their down time: Wow, what a cute collection of scenes that are charming as much as they are heartwarming! A set of scenes that show how human these characters are with their close relationships with friends and family! I sure hope it's not followed up with a brutal emotional gut-punch of a scene that will be even more devastating after thinking back on these! Especially with that bit with Martian Man and the little girl, cause OOO-WEE, would THAT tear me up inside!

Omni Man destroying the Guardians of the Globe:...I'd follow through on my joke here, but holy s**t.

That's really the best way I can describe all of this. It is a brutal, I repeat, BRUTAL scene that will stick with you hours after watching it. Not only that, but it's one of the few instances when I was damn near speechless because I couldn't think of anything else to say other than, "Holy s**t." The only time another superhero property did that was Avengers: Infinity War, except with that, the only difference is that the characters come back. Here, except for The Immortal, the Guardians stay dead! There's no magic amulet or alternate versions from another dimension. No, they die and never come back. Thus setting up how serious the show can be. Because if these superheroes can stay dead, then so can others.

Plus, what makes it more impactful is how throughout the entire fight, there was a glimpse of hope that the Guardians can beat Omni-Man. I heard he got nerfed for the sake of drama, and I approve of that decision. Because if he was really--

...If he was really unbeatable, then the fight doesn't have weight to it. There wouldn't be a point in rooting for these characters to win when we already know they're going to lose. But, by showing there's a chance that they could win, it becomes all the more intense watching the fight and even more tragic seeing them lose. It is a masterpiece of a battle that proves once and for all: Batman is right. You need contingency plans.

Omni Man: J. Jonah Jameson has become the one thing he hates the most: A masked MENACE...Ok, I know Omni-Man doesn't wear a mask, so the joke doesn't work as well as it could. But it was served to me on a silver platter, damn it! I had to take it!

In all seriousness, though, Omni-Man might give Homelander a run for his money on best evil Superman. Because while Homelander might be terrifying in his own right with his style of evil, Omni-Man takes it a step up a notch with the mystery behind WHY he killed the Guardians of the Globe. We know right away that there's something off with him, but up until that point, we see multiple instances of Omni-Man doing the right thing rather than the wrong. Sure, he might come off as cold when interacting with people, but so does Batman and other great superheroes in comics. That doesn't mean he's evil. So when he does do something so incredibly heinous, we're left with this mystery as to why. Because there has to be a reason for it all, right? Like, maybe mind control or his family was threatened. Something and anything that means he was forced into killing the noblest of people. So when it turns out that his actions were intentional, it is already pretty devastating. But when we find out why he does these things, it paints how truly evil Omni-Man is, given how little respect he has for human life.

Plus, as terrifying as Homelander is, Omni-Man is ten times more of an engaging villain. With Homelander, what you see is what you get: A narcissist with a god complex. For Omni-Man, it's more or less the same thing, but it's something fed to him because of the conditioning from his planet. There is a tiny, molecule-sized part of him that genuinely cares about others. It doesn't change what he does, nor does it mean he deserves forgiveness (far from it), but it hints that maybe he's not evil because of his own ego. It's because of how he's trained to be. And judging by his pained expressions from Mark's words and the single tear he sheds when leaving everything behind, there's a chance that he might be willing to fight back that mentality.

Or he will stay evil, and that he'll return to do worse things in the future. I don't know. I haven't read the comics. But I feel like I don't need to read anything to tell you all that Omni-Man is up there as one of the most intriguing comic book villains of all time, and I can't wait to see what happens with him next.

This show is f**king Violent: I mean, I refer you back to that scene where Omni-Man destroys the Guardians of the Globe. But, unlike other shows that use violence to force that mature rating, I feel as though In--

...Title card. You were cute the first time, but now your novelty has quickly worn thin.

Anyways, I feel as though this show...uses gore more appropriately. More often than not, death and carnage get treated as a literal joke in adult cartoons because people are sick bastards, I guess. But with...the current series I'm talking about, it all has an impact. No one dies or gets mangled for the sake of shock value or for a laugh. Instead, every instance of this type of violence is to either make a point, set the tone, or prove just how dangerous a specific character is. It makes...the series more mature than most adult cartoons you'll find because it actually brings a worthy discussion for its violence rather than milking it to give the illusion of maturity. And I gotta respect the writers for doing that.

Cecil: This man is basically Nick Fury if he was overpowered but in a good way. There is just something about a man who knows superheroes are needed in the world but also trusts a "hero" like Omni-Man as far as he can throw him. Not only does Cecil have contingency plans for his contingency plans, but the guy also knows to send the right heroes out for the exact missions that require them. Plus, a man is an instant badass when he's stone-faced about a demon saying he'll go somewhere worse than hell and is calm when being face-to-face with an angry Omni-Man.

I don't make the rules. I just abide by them.

The title card gets bloodier with each episode: This is just a really cool gimmick. It proves how intense this show can really be and how the stakes get higher and higher with each installment. Also, I like to think the amount of blood that splashes over the title card reflects how brutal the episode will be, especially with episode eight, 'cause holy hell.

The plot structure: The way the story works is very similar to how a comic book series handles its overarching narrative. Even though the writers begin a new arc that continues for a handful of issues, the overall main plot still develops in the background of the current adventure the hero goes through. That's basically how--

>Intense inhale<

>Calm exhale<

That's basically how THIS SHOW operates. Each episode can be seen as its own story that's given a ton of room to develop with its forty-five-minute runtime (which blew my f**king mind when I started binging it). Despite that, there's still a great sense of continuity. Everything involving Omni-Man and the mystery behind his murder of the Guardians gets fleshed out throughout the season, even when it takes the background of Mark's escapades. It really does feel like sitting down and taking the time to read an entire volume of comics, which I like to believe is the intention. After all, what's the point of making a series about superheroes if you don't make it feel like a comic book at least once?

Dark Blood: I desire a series based on this character alone. I know it's probably just Hellboy, but I want it. 

The idea of a demon solving murder crimes to work off his debt in Hell is too much of a remarkable concept to strictly be a c-plot in one series. Give Dark Blood a spin-off, damn it!

The Realistic Portrayal of a Superhero world: Unlike certain superhero properties--*cough* DC *cough*--it's--

>Huff<

>Puff<

>HUFF<

>PUFF<

>HUFF<

It's. This. F**KING. SHOW! That really does an excellent job at portraying how much it would suck to live in a world of superheroes. Sure, you got the cool battles and awe-inspiring heroes with incredible powers, but do you know what else you get? Hundreds upon thousands of people dying from the very threats those heroes fight against. Not to mention all the realistic physics that come from people like Mark trying to save others. Just look at how mangled that old woman looked when he attempted to help her. It, uh...It sure did not look great. Don't get me wrong, I love superheroes and the worlds they live in. But when watching a show like...this one, it really makes me appreciate how I don't live in those worlds with them.

It’s Still Funny: This is something I appreciate the most. When most superhero shows go for the realistic approach, they go with the doom and gloom route, making everything so melodramatic about how serious the world is. But here's the thing: Superheroes are f**king stupid.

Don't tell me they're not because they are. Superheroes have cornball hero names, bright costumes, and logos on their foreheads, chests, belts, and what-have-you. Taking a superhero too seriously is the worst mistake you could make, which is why I love the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Say what you want about Marvel having "too many jokes," but at least they know it's for the best to laugh at themselves and embrace the weirdness. It's something similar with...you know what. Because while the series tells a serious and realistic story about superheroes, it's still a story about superheroes. So it tells some jokes and some pretty funny ones at that. Because while it's essential to include some drama in a story such as the one in...you know what, it's just as important to never forget to have some fun.

“Earth is not yours to conquer.”: Such a great line that gains an even greater meaning once we fully know who Omni-Man is. The main creditor for how effective it is goes to J.K. Simmons for making the line sound explicit yet implicit at the same time.

Allen the Alien: ...It is an absolute crime that this character only has about six minutes of screentime. Allen is such a bro, partially because of Seth Rogan's performance, that I would honestly be upset if he doesn't show up more often in later seasons. Seriously, bring him back for more.

The Mauler Twins: Thankfully, these characters get as much attention as they deserve. The banter between the Mauler Twins is always entertaining, often being the comedic highlights at times. On top of being funny, they also work as efficient villains who can come across as threatening at times.

But what I love most of all about these two is the explanation behind the cloning process. The reasoning of why neither character remembers which one is the cone is a brilliant idea that I'm surprised no one else did in the past (to my knowledge). It also provides some excellent fruit for thought in wondering if it really is better to live your life not knowing if you're a clone or not. The whole thing is great to watch, and it makes me really glad for their inclusion...too bad they had to be forced into a story that makes a character look like a reckless superhero and an inconsiderate jackass to his friend. Seriously, what was up with that?

“That Actually Hurt”: This just might be my favorite episode of the first season. Machine Head is both equally hilarious and devious, Titan might just be my favorite character due to how intriguing his allegiances and motivations are, that final fight was the perfect amount of brutal, and we get the biggest hint of the man Omni-Man really is. Having him simply watching Mark instead of flying in to help him actually shocked me the first time seeing it. It's not until we learn what a Viltrumite really is that it becomes clear as to why. He doesn't care about saving his son but instead seeing Mark reach the same potential Omni-Man did during that smash fest the planet went through to reach perfection. And something tells me he felt more disappointment than sadness after seeing his son get nearly killed by Tony the Tiger (I know he has an actual name...but this is funnier to me). It's such a solid moment with great implications that just so happens to exist in an even greater episode.

Eve deciding to just help people for the heck of it: I actually love this idea more for the potential it has rather than what actually happens so far. Because the main reason why heroes don't fly around and solve every little minute problem people have is that they need to learn how to act without help. If you suddenly make food appear out of thin air or stopping forest fires, you're doing good, but there's also potential harm that comes from it. I think back to that episode of The Powerpuff Girls, where the townspeople are so idiotic and complacent with having their heroes solve every problem that they really can't think or act for themselves. A similar thing can happen with Eve if she's not careful. Even worse, if she keeps trying to end famine for farmers, because she might get into a Supergirl situation with people building a cult around her. And, you know, that's not going to be fun.

But again, that's just the potential that this presents. We--Or the people who haven't read the comics--don't know if Eve will actually face this issue. Regardless, we still get some solid moments that proves just how much Eve is a true hero in this series as she has no other motive to help people other than she just wants to. And I actually think that's pretty cool.

The Immortal’s rematch: I gotta hand it to the guy. Not a second after being brought back to life, and The Immortal's already flying off to get revenge on the bastard who killed his closest friends in the world. Or, globe, I guess.

I respect that, to be honest.

(As a bonus, The Immortal causing Omni-Man's eyes to become bloodshot adds to how evil he'll be in the last episode)

Mark trying to snap his dad out of mind-control: Oh, I felt that.

I'm pretty sure we all felt that.

Ow...Big ow.

The Train Scene: ...This is the most horrific thing I have seen in entertainment. Seriously, while Omni-Man annihilating the Guardians left me speechless, this is another level. Because him using Mark's body to kill a train full of people ramming into them, leaving Mark all the more helpless to stop it, makes a scene that is so...so hard for me to describe how effectively f**ked up it is. It's one of those moments where just by seeing it, you know why it's awful in all the right ways. And I will never forget the look of shock and horror on my face when it reflected onto my laptop's screen after the scene briefly cut to black soon after the carnage. Because if that doesn't explain how unmerciful this moment is, I don't know what will.

Saving Mark after the fight: I really love this because as it flashes between still images of people carrying Mark away after his brutal fight with Omni-Man, it really feels like you're reading a comic from panel to panel. It’s pretty neat. I won’t lie.

WHAT I DISLIKE

The Animation isn’t that great: Now, in terms of action, the animation is fantastic. You feel the impact of each attack, there are some creative uses of powers, and the gore is better implemented because it's all animated. As for everything else...yeah, it kinda sucks. Movements are a little stiff at times, the CGI backgrounds could use a bit more polish, and don't get me started on the CGI crowds of people. I understand the shortcuts that need to be taken to make everything else more effective, but man, this series needed a little more time in the oven before being shown to everyone. It's never too bad, but it can be pretty distracting at times.

Amber: F**k Amber. Just f**k her. Everything people tell you that is wrong with her is one-hundred percent on point. She is easily one of the worst love interests, and to me, it has everything to do with the fact that she knows Mark is--

...That she knows Mark is--

...

...

...ThatsheknowsMarkisInvinci--

--BECAUSE IT INVALIDATES ANY POINT SHE HAS, GOSH DANGIT! I don't give a single S**T if she's upset that he's late all the time! If Amber was always unaware of it, then I would understand. But having her know means that she thinks her issues are more important than Mark, oh, I don't know, SAVING THE PLANET! I mean, the girl helps feed the homeless! You would think she would understand.

But fine. Maybe Amber's just upset that Mark's lying to her. Sure. That's understandable...BUT WHAT THE F**K IS UP WITH HER BLOWING UP IN HIS FACE FOR NOT HELPING ANYBODY AT THE COLLEGE WHEN SHE KNOWS HE'S HELPING EVERYBODY!? Even if it's her giving Mark one last chance to tell her the truth (which is a mile of a stretch, and you know it), did she really expect him to reveal his secret with tons of people watching? That is a crazy expectation that no one should live up to!

Amber is quite possibly the worst thing about this show. She was fine at first, and her chemistry with Mark was on point, but MAN, did she get worse later on.

And if I see one mother f**ker calling me a racist because I don't like this character who just so happens to be black...I'm going to be upset, not gonna lie. Because that is a cheap shot to dismiss any criticism, especially since her race has NOTHING to do with why people hate her...Or, at least, most people.

Edit (5/27/2021): Disregard the above. The long and short is that I don’t like Amber. She just doesn’t sit right with me for the reasons that her anger towards Mark just never felt entertaining to me in comparision to everything else. But saying her thoughts and arguements are invalid is not cool, and I’m sorry to both any readers who are black or especially female who would be upset by this.

Rex-splode: I understand the point behind Rex. He's a character who we're supposed to hate, so it becomes so much more satisfying seeing others s**t on him. But those characters are hard to get right if you’re not careful. Make them too irritating, then any suffering they go through will seem too little. Make them not annoying enough, and their punishments can be too harsh. Rex fits into the "too irritating" category. It's satisfying to see Monster Girl wreck his s**t after he started commenting how ineffective she might be, but with what he pulled with Dupli-Kate, I feel as though he might deserve worse. Although I will admit Rex gets slightly better in later episodes, showing at least a smidgen of character development. But I don't think it's enough to make his a**holeness worth it. Still, I hope he at least becomes above decent in the next few seasons, which is way more than what I can say for Amber.

(Seriously, writers, if she just disappears without an ounce of an explanation in the season premiere, I won't question it. You have my word.)

Edit: I no longer agree with what I crossed out, but I won’t delete it either. I want people to know the mistake I made so I can prove that I changed in the future.

Robot cloning himself to be with Monster Girl: ...Nope! 

Nope!

Changed my mind.

I am NOT touching that.

I will touch a lot of things, but I will not touch--That came out wrong.

Please forget you read anything.

Thank you, and goodnight.

Let’s move on

Transitioning to the title card: Here it is! The nitpickiest of all nitpicks! But, seeing how it happens in every episode, meaning that the writers have no choice but to commit to it, means it's one of those things that viewers are forced to get used to. And boy, is the transition to the title card hard to get used to! Oh, you thought it was annoying how it kept happening in this review? Well...fair enough. But trust me when I say it's much more aggravating in the show.

The funny thing is, I had no problem the first time it happened. It was a cute way to introduce the character as well as the title of the series. But having that be the basis for transitioning to the title card every time was a gimmick that got old real quick. Especially since every time that a character says the word--

--it always feels forced. What's even more annoying is that sometimes it interrupts characters as they're saying invin--

LIKE! F**KING! THAT! Because interrupting someone before they say something is one thing, but doing so as they're saying it shows a sense of bad timing. Not even that, because this is something that I feel like could have been the easiest to change in the series by having someone go, "Hey, maybe we should edit out this single second."

It's laziness that doesn't happen often, but it still grinds my gears a bit. Plus, is there really no other smoother transition the writers could come up with? Did they really believe this is the best way to do it?

Think, writers! THINK!

It's fine to have a gimmick, but this is one that really shouldn't have any follow-through on.

-------------

That's about all the issues I have with the show. It's far from perfect, but still, an A- is pretty impressive work. The stuff that this series does right not only outnumbers the mistakes but also heavily outweighs them. Besides, no show in the history of creativity has ever been perfect in its first season. There are always dents that need to get buffed out and improve upon for the subsequent seasons to come. Only then can a series truly be Invincible from all criticism.

...

...Oh, sure. 

SURE!

NOW it lets me say it!

GOSH, DANGIT, I HATE THAT TITLE CARD!

[inventors-fair]

Missed Opportunities Commentary

Thank you all, once more, for a fantastic week. I wish my schedule allowed me to do this more often, since it really is so much fun. Now, then, let’s get into it! All 14 remaining submissions are under the cut, card and commentary included.

We’re going to be going in reverse alphabetical order this time, so let’s start it off with @shadowtag‘s submission, Traumatic Reunion

This is an absolutely beautiful callback to Cathartic Reunion in both function and flavor, but this is not a black effect. The only color allowed to return any card type from their graveyard to their hand is green, and spells that return multiple cards at once all exile themselves (or otherwise remove themselves from your graveyard like Seasons Past.) Very good job on the flavor, but unfortunately the mechanics don't quite pull through.

@misterstingyjack​ Tocasia’s Ingenuity

A deep pull to be sure, but not an unwelcome one. Although, given that Primal Plasma is blue, and blue is the central overlapping color between Urza and Mishra, I don't see why this wasn't a blue card. The fact that it makes a token with all the abilities of the card is strange to me too, as with Soul Separator from Shadows Over Innistrad there is precedent of making token copies of things in graveyard with different characteristics. That aside, an artifact focus was 100% the right direction to take here, even with the Elementalist spin, and the card is well balanced, all things considered. Unrelated to the judging, you mentioned Darksteel Colossus in the notes, but unfortunately that wouldn't work. Darksteel Colossus shuffles itself into your library if it would be put into a graveyard, so it's impossible to interact with it in the graveyard (Blightsteel Colossus does this as well.)

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes​ The First Battle

I always love to see the Demon Leviathan given the attention it deserves. The lore on this is absolutely wonderful, but it's also way too much text to put on a Saga. If it did fit, I'd suggest swapping the first two chapters so that you can better set up the killing blow, but as it is I think it should just be an instant or sorcery that makes the planeswalkers fight and adds the counters immediately.

@ozthearistocrat​ Mistmeadow Jack

I also had to look this one up, and flavorfully I'm liking what I'm seeing! Unfortunately, this is not a white card. Stealing things, even temporarily, is not a white effect. If this card were blue to cast with a white activation (or keeping the hybrid activation) it would have been perfect.

@snugz​ Khanfall

Choices were a big part of Fate Reforged, and Khans block in general, so it makes sense that a splashy mythic set in that time would have a choice attached as well. However, given that the card is named Khanfall, and there's only one way that can go down, it seems strange to me that there's a choice at all. The mechanical aspects of this card are wonderful, but I think it should have done only one of these things rather than try for both.

@starch255 Hyperi, Titan of Sky’s Tyranny

I'm definitely a fan of the concept, and I'm glad you caught on and made the Helixing optional, but my feelings on Hyperi are mixed. The two Titans we have fit into a playstyle of "Good spells on turn 2/3, good value engines later in the game," but Hyperi doesn't. It's an absolutely backbreaking card late game, especially since grave hate powers up future versions, but on curve it most likely does nothing at all. You would have been better served making it either flat damage + lifegain or tied to a number other than cards in exile.

@gollumni​ Hurrik, Savior of Gods

There's a lot to say here, so let me start by assuring you that I really wish this card worked. If you activate this and target any creature that then dies to damage or 0 toughness, it creates an infinite loop of replacement effects that ends the game in a draw, because it doesn't remove marked damage or debuffs, so the creature will die again to state based actions so the replacement effect, which lasts until the end of the turn, will grab it ad infinitum. If it said "the next time" and removed damage, or it exiled and brought it back under your control, then it would work perfectly. It also saves your own creatures without the downside, which I don't think was intentional based on the wording.

@hypexion​ Hack the Guildpact

Maybe I have a skewed experience with this sort of thing, but this looks very easy to win with. If you have even three unique color pairs and a proliferate card, you'll win in three turns. But worse than that, the card doesn't do anything aside from winning the game. If it gets to 9 counters and then gets blown up, it didn't do anything. Cards which say "win the game" on them usually have either some sort of protection, like Helix Pinnacle and Darksteel Reactor, or some other effect to help win or survive, like Approach of the Second Sun and Simic Ascendancy. Maybe it could have a ramping scry/surveil based on the number of counters, and then win at 10.

@teaxch​ Gvar, Krumar Commander

It's simple and clean, although it doesn't quite carry the same flavor as what the Krumar really are. The mechanics of this card imply that they defeat the children and then take them, and although the flavor text describes it properly, it's still at odds with the functionality. A better way to do this might be to follow the example of Offspring's Revenge, and have Gvar make 1/1 token copies of opponent's creatures that die, with appropriate stat balancing.

@bread-into-toast​ Glimpse of Perfection

I get what you were going for, and I like it, but it's messy. It's a counterspell and a stealy card, but the fact that it namedrops the Shadowspear specifically means it's very niche, and the fact that you're paying more than usual for the counterspell, and then 4 life (or UU) for a 1 mana artifact that you don't always keep forever makes the card underwhelming even when it does work. I think a better way to accomplish this flavor would have been to make both the counterspell and search effect on etb, and make the steal effect search for any artifact with mana value 1 or less.

@morbidlyqueerious​ Glimpse Beyond

Mechanically, this card is perfect. Blue and green are the perfect combination of colors for this effect, weaving together cards like Commune With the Gods and Investigate the Mystery seamlessly. My only gripe is that, looking at this without the flavor text, I would not know what it's representing. It's a great effect, and I do love me some Rashmi, it's just a little too nonspecific.

@shakeszx Dack’s Fate

Very on the nose. Normally, most things about this card would be working against it, but in the specific context of War of the Spark, it fits very well. Legendary sorceries would have been great in a set with 36 planeswalkers, as well as planeswalker specific removal. I'm not sure why this is white, though. Nicol Bolas has never been associated with white, least of all the Eternals, and everything this card does can be done in mono black.

@wolkemesser​ Clockworking

Mechanically, this card is fine. I think it should have been a delayed trigger to choose one ("when you win" instead of if), and the "use" should be changed to "activate" but the card works as written. Apart from that, the effects are of wildly different power levels (compare Raise Dead to Disallow). Flavorfully, I'm very confused why you re-used a Lorwyn mechanic for the Scars of Mirrodin story, let alone one as divisive as Clash.

@col-seaker-of-the-memiest-legion​ ______, Planeswalker

This is a wonderful example of a card that is only silver bordered due to flavor. It functions exactly as intended in black border, without any changes to the rules or mechanics of the game, but is still a card that would never be printed outside of an Unset. That being said, the card itself does need a bit of a templating update. It needs to specify that you can look at cards exiled with it, otherwise you won't be able to play any of them, and I assume you meant for the last ability to be less than or equal to the number of land counters on the Planeswalker. Mechanically, there's a few changes that would need to be made to get it to the right spot in terms of balance. The cost, for one, is a mess. Twobrid mana isn't used anymore for good reason, and while I understand the intent behind its use here, it drags the design down. The fact that all of the abilities subtract loyalty means that even though it starts with 20 counters, you're likely not going to be able to play anything off of it. It playing the land in the second ability is more restrictive than you might assume, since the opportunity cost there is both drawing a card into the planeswalker and your own land drop for the turn.

~

And that will do it for us today! It was a genuine pleasure to host this for you all, and I look forward to the next time our paths cross in such a manner.

-Mod @illharg-the-rave-boar​

[more-pokeimagines]

Stone Cold Body [07] - Chapter 6

A/N: First of all, I want to apologize for abandoning this fic for a while. I just couldn’t motivate myself to continue it since I felt like most people weren't interested in this series but I finally managed to finish the new chapter. I revamped the plot a bit and removed some filler scenes, so I hope it won’t take me too long to get the next chapter done. Anyway, have fun reading! Feedback is always appreciated. <3

Warnings: mentions of violence

Taglist: @piershoesz, @alovestruck-fool, @shaak-ti-s, @spair-m

Past

Bede was exhausted. He had spent the entire weekend with his sister’s future husband, showing him around the kingdom and taking him to a hunting trip to the deep forests at the borders of Galar. Although the young man probably wouldn’t become king himself, Lewin I. had advised his son to introduce Carlina’s fiancé to every important person in the North, including the Duke of Hammerlocke who had invited them to join their hunting party. Now, he was on his way back to the castle while Carlina and her fiancé had decided to stay at the Duke’s palace for a little while longer to spend some more time with each other.

The young prince sighed. He knew that Carlina didn't love her fiancé but he hoped that he would make her happy nevertheless. She was the purest soul he had ever known and deserved nothing but the best. At least for once, Bede and his father agreed.

Star, his dapple-gray mare, nickered, almost as if she wanted to express her approval of his thoughts, and he leaned forward to ruffle her mane. “I know you’re tired. When we get back home I make sure to find some nice green apples for you, alright?”

He always did that; talking to his horse like it could actually understand him, no matter how often others made fun of him because of that. To him, Star had always been a part of his family, his best friend; the one who patiently listened to him when he needed to pour his heart out to someone. Aside from Carlina, the mare was the only one who actually cared about him. Sure, his mother had always tried her best to shield him from his father’s wrath, especially in his early childhood, but not even she could convince him to carry out his strict educational methods.

Bede shook his head, trying to get rid of the unpleasant memories that crept up on him in the back of his mind. He didn’t want to think about these things now; it only reminded him of all the bad things that had happened in the past and the unbearable weight he would carry on his shoulders as soon as he became king. He had spent so much time wondering if he could be equal to the task, hoping that he wouldn’t disappoint everyone who lived in the kingdom, but at the same time, he knew that he didn’t have a choice anyway. He was the firstborn, the heir to the throne, and there was nothing he could do to escape his fate. Sooner or later, the well-being of an entire kingdom would be in his hands.

Star nickered again but this time, it sounded like she disagreed with him. He knew that he was imagining things but it was oddly comforting to interact with her. “It’s so hard to figure out how to be a good king,” he said and patted her withers. Then, a lot more quietly, he added, “I just don’t want to be like my father.”

He went silent after that. In less than an hour he would be back at the castle where he needed to report every single detail about the trip to the king, including everything Carlina had said about her fiancé. Bede was tired of being his father’s spy but since he knew that King Lewin only wanted the best for his daughter – just like Bede himself – he didn’t mind it too much this time.

It was only then when Bede realized the unnatural silence that surrounded him. The birds had stopped chirping, and there was no wind that was breezing through the leaves. Even the sound of Star’s hoofbeats had almost lapsed into silence.

All of that supported only one conclusion: there was some kind of magic in play, and Bede knew the sorcerers and their rightful anger all too well to hope that they weren’t here to hurt him. In the end, he was still part of the royal family, and they would take every opportunity to take revenge.

Star let out a piercing whicker and reared up when two people stormed out of the forest. They were both wearing dark cloaks; the hoods were pulled down so far that Bede couldn’t see their faces. One of them – a young man, judging by his figure – grabbed the reins, trying to hold Star back. The mare rolled her eyes and whickered again as she started to buck.

Bede was being flung forward, barely holding onto Star’s back. The next second, the other sorcerer grabbed his lag, effectively pulling him off the saddle and tackling him to the ground. Bede’s head dashed against a rock, and then, everything went dark.

*

When Bede woke up, the first thing he noticed was the terrible pain that pulsated through his skull. He reached up and felt his temple, realizing that there was dried blood on his skin. Every bone in his body hurt. For a second, he wondered if it felt like that to be trampled down by a hard of cows but his head hurt way too much to think about things like that for longer than a moment.

Bede slowly sat up and let his eyes wander, inspecting his surroundings, although it was so dark that he could barely see anything. But after a while, his eyes had adjusted to the darkness well enough to realize that he was sitting in some sort of cell, maybe in an underground dungeon because there was no window, only masonry from which droplets water were dripping to the ground in a steady rhythm. Right in front of him, he could see a cross-bared prison door, reaching from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. If he hadn’t already suspected it, he would’ve realized that someone had locked him in by now. And somehow, he knew who was behind all of it.

Although he could only remember the attack and the following fall vaguely, there was no doubt about the fact that the sorcerers had taken the opportunity to kidnap him. He just didn’t know why. If they thought that his father would stop persecuting them just because they had the prince in their grip… well, they surely would be met with disappointment. There was no way King Lewin would give up the witch hunt, not even if they used his son as some kind of leverage.

It would be a whole different story if they had kidnapped Carlina instead, Bede thought with a hint of bitterness. If the sorcerers had threatened her, the king wouldn’t have hesitated to send an army to get her back. Bede knew that he was far more important for the kingdom than his sister but he wasn’t under the illusion that his father loved him enough to do everything in his power to free him. Especially now that Carlina had a fiancé who would be the heir to the throne in case of the prince’s death, his father wouldn’t risk starting a war and losing his supporters during the course of the battles just for the sake of getting his son back.

With a quiet sigh, Bede shook his head, trying to get rid of the hurtful thoughts. Surely, it didn’t matter whether his father tried to get him back or not; he wouldn’t be able to find him down here anyway, so it was probably better to come to terms with the facts – he would never get out of here. At least not when the sorcerers didn’t want him to.

It was only then when he realized that he wasn’t alone. A few meters away from his cell, he could see a woman, dressed in a simple skirt and blouse, a dark cloak around her shoulders. The hood was hiding her face but not enough to hide her self-satisfied smile as well.

“So, we meet again, little Princeling,” she said softly, slowly approaching the cell. “I must admit that I always assumed it would be harder to capture you. But you were an easy target.”

“You,” Bede replied through gritted teeth. He didn’t need to see her face to recognize her; her voice was enough to know that this was the same woman who had approached him at the ball where she had pretended to be Princess Amelié’s lady-in-waiting. He had almost forgotten her and her preposterous threats but now that he came face to face with her again, he wished he would’ve believed her words back then. Maybe it would’ve given him some sort of advance right now, maybe he could’ve figured out her plans over the past few months. But no, he had pretended that nothing of it had happened and now, he had to pay for his arrogance.

The woman nodded, her smile growing a bit wider, almost as if she could read his mind. “I’m sure you are wondering why I brought you to this place.”

“To kill me, of course,” Bede said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, dearie, no.” The woman clicked her tongue. “I only want to have a little conversation with you. I’m sure that is not too much to ask, or is it, Your Highness?”

Coming from her mouth, the title sounded almost like an insult but Bede only cocked his head and looked at her. Over the years, he had learned how to hide his emotions; a talent that would come in handy now. “Well,” he said, his expression completely blank. “Then talk. I am listening.”

“First of all, you need to listen to my story. If you don’t know what my family had to go through because of your father you won’t understand why I’m asking for your help. So, are you willing to listen to me?”

“You are asking for what?” This time, Bede had trouble with hiding his emotions. Her words had completely taken him aback, and for a few seconds, he could only stare at her as he tried to understand what she was talking about. When she saw the confused expression on his face, she smiled once again. “I’m asking for your help, my dear.”

*

She had left him alone to think after she had finished her story. “My name is Brigid,” she had said. “The girl the king killed at the stake a few months ago… she was my sister. Belia. She was the purest soul I ever met, and now she is dead because your father is so consumed with his prejudices and hatred that he can’t see the truth anymore. But my sister isn’t the only one he took from me.”

And then, she had told him everything about her life; what King Lewin did to her and her people, what he did to her family. And with every word she had said, Bede could feel how the world his parents built around him was starting to crumble into a million pieces.

But he still had trouble with comprehending her words. If the things she said were true, it would mean that he had lived a lie since he had been born. It would mean that nothing his parents had told him was true; that they had lied to him right from the start.

He buried his face in his hands as he tried to bring order into the chaos of his mind. Could he trust Brigid? Or was she just trying to drive a wedge between him and his family to convince him to help her?

He wasn’t so sure anymore.

Everything she had told him had sounded insane and absolutely impossible but on the other hand, he knew what his father was capable of. King Lewin didn’t stop at nothing; he would do anything to preserve his power but then again, what if Brigid had been lying? Bede couldn’t burst the bonds with his family just because a woman he barely knew told him wild stories about her past and the kingdom. Growing up, he had learned that sorcerers were known to be manipulative and dishonest, and his father never missed an opportunity to tell him that they couldn’t be trusted, no matter the circumstances. So, why was he still confused?

The answer to that was actually pretty simple: he didn’t know who he could trust. On the one hand, he knew that his father wasn’t the most honest man, and Bede wouldn’t be surprised if he kept the truth from his family for all these years but on the other hand, he had no proof that Brigid didn’t lie to him as well. He had no reason to believe her. It probably wasn’t too far-fetched to assume that she only tried to use him against his family, so it definitely would be wise to ignore the incredible story she had told him. After all, there was nothing she could do to give evidence of her words.

Bede groaned. He already started to feel dizzy from thinking things over again and again, and he was still going round in circles. No matter what he decided to believe – he would end up with betraying someone. The only question that remained was who he would betray: a woman he barely knew or his family.

Keeping things in perspective, the decision was quite simple. Bede had no reason to doubt his parents or the things they had taught him about the sorcerers and the history of the country. The only thing that stopped him from choosing a side was his own insecurity – and fear. Although he would never say it out loud, Bede had to admit that he was afraid of the consequences he would face after making his decision. If he sided with the sorceress, he would definitely lose everything he had, starting with his title and claim to the throne through to the right to be a member of the royal family. But if he decided to stay loyal to his family, he risked incurring Brigid’s wrath and probably would end up dead. So, in the end, he would be the victim, no matter which side he chose.

Bede let out a deep sigh, and after a few moments of collecting his thoughts once again, he closed his eyes and finally made a decision.

*

Brigid returned two days later. In the meantime, two other sorcerers, an elderly man and a girl, had provided Bede with water and a few bites of food but Bede had been so nervous all the time that he barely got anything down. He had spent the majority of the time musing if he had chosen the wrong side but, in the end, he had managed to convince himself that he was doing the right thing.

With that in mind, he could wait for Brigid calmly. His face showed no emotion when she approached his cell, her lips curled into a smile that showed her confidence in her plan, her eyes filled with hope and excitement.

“Hello, my dear,” she said softly and reached out to curl her fingers around the bars of the cell door. Glacially, he returned her smile. “Good evening.”

“Have you thought about the things I’ve said?”

Bede nodded and crossed his arms in front of his chest, keeping his eyes glued on Brigid who returned his gaze expectantly. “Can I count on your help, then?”

His smile faded, making room for the emotionless expression he had practiced during his upbringing as crown prince of Galar. “No,” he replied slowly. “I will not help you to betray my own family.”

For a few seconds, there was something like utter disbelief in her eyes but soon enough, she had regained her composure and took a step back from the cell door, her hands shaking ever so slightly as she took them from the bars. “After everything I’ve told you,” she whispered, “you still believe them?”

“Of course I do. They are my family and I love them. You, on the other hand, are a stranger to me, so why should I believe you? I have no possibility to find out whether you tell the truth or not.”

“Oh dear.” A hint of pity flashed over her face. “You have chosen the wrong side.”

“So be it.”

Brigid sighed but when she looked at him again, the expression in her eyes was no longer hopeful. Instead, they were filled with burning anger. “It would’ve been nice to work together with you but in the end, I don’t need you to realize my plan,” she said. “They will regret what they have done to me and my family. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“You must be insane when you think that I will be intimidated by your empty words,” Bede spoke condescendingly and fixed her gaze on her as she clenched her fists. “You and your kind can only lie and betray and hope that nobody notices how reprobated and selfish you are.”

“Your arrogance will do you no good, little Princeling,” the sorceress replied and laughed when he raised his eyebrows at the involuntary nickname she had given him, “one day, you will get what you deserve. And I hope I will be there to see it.”

Masterlist / Next

[welcome-to-afterlife]

I just read the obey me after life ell crossover and I'm so excited to see the next post because it was 🔥🔥🔥 but now my brain at 3 am is chugging out a custody battle for mc fanfic that I'll never write and I'm holding you accountable for it

Finally finished! This is a lot longer than I thought it would be, but I still had a lot of fun writing it.

AFTERL!FE X OBEY ME CROSSOVER

The air was buzzing with tension. Hushed voices filled the room as spectators poured into the courtroom, both from Devildom and the Otherworld. Humans and demons sat in the audience, waiting for the historical decision made today. No human from the Otherworls had ever been sentenced to work at Devildom, but that was about to change.

Both the defendants and plaintiffs sat at the front of the room. On the left side, the Morningstar family were checking over all their belongings to make sure they hadn't forgotten anything. Besides them was the future king of Devildom, Diavolo, and his butler, Barbatos. Lucifer was talking to Diavolo with great concern, pointing to Solomon, who was shuffling through the endless papers on his desk. Although the sorcerer had never touched a law textbook in his life, the Otherworld laws had a strict human-attorney-only (dead or alive) policy.  While Lucifer insisted on contacting his lawyer contacts in the human realm, Diavolo opted for Solomon. The future king of Devildom claimed that Solomon had the best understanding of their situation and that his slithery tongue would be the cause for their victory. Lucifer could only hope that he was right.

On the right side was noisy chatter from Nyang Lead Manager, Housemaster Sei, and the soul reapers from the 14th Department. Unlike Lucifer, the reapers were confident and relaxed. They had the upper-hand in the situation as Youssef, the lawyer with an record-breaking winning streak, was their attorney. The only being that was anxious was the Lead Manager, who was too busy hissing at Youssef to notice the judge entering the room.

As the judge walked into the room, the crowd became silent. Behind her was the manager of the 14th Department-- the focus of the case. The judge stood at the center podium while the manager positioned themselves behind the left podium.

"Welcome everyone. Today we will begin the formal proceedings for the civil case Morningstar vs. The 14th Department." The judge slammed the gavel on the podium. "I will decide whether the manager of the 14th Department should transfer to Devildom or continue their activites in the Otherworld. We will begin the proceedings by asking the plaintiff to state their case."

That was Solomon's cue. He stood up and cleared his throat. "Your honor, the Morningstar family-"

"Make it quick, dumbass. You guys are gonna lose anyways," Quincy shouted from the opposite side.

The entire court turned to him, including the judge. "Sir, I highly suggest that you compose yourself in this professional environment or else your will be forcibly removed. Mr. Solomon, you may continue."

Ethan rolled his eyes and whispered, "Great going, you brat."

Mammon and Levi snickered as Quincy crossed his arms and glared at them.

Solomon glanced at his papers once more, before continuing. "As I was saying, the Morningstar family believes that the 14th Department's manager is best suited for Devildom. They have already spent an entire year as an exchange student and returned for an additional amount of time. We believe that their managerial expertise would benefit the exchange program as the manager would be in charge of guiding new exchange students. As a human, they would be able to provide emotional support and act as a resource for information....."

The brothers watched in amazement as Solomon handled himself with poise and grace. Diavolo grinned and elbowed Lucifer's ribs. I told you he'd be great.

"Wow, he's almost as good as Lucifer," Satan said.

"Who knew that academia could be so sexy?" Asmo whispered.

"Looool so you're into nerds now?" Levi asked.

"I'm hungry," Beel groaned.

"Shut up, all of you. Or else I'll hang you from the roof by your feet," Lucifer hissed.

"Hey, I didn't say anything! Why ya threaten' me?" Mammon exclaimed.

Meanwhile, the soul reapers began to worry. Solomon was a lot more throughout than they had expected. The longer he talked, the more likely the judge would agree with him. Ell, in particular, was so anxious that he went on another sneezing fit. Although Licht tried to assure him that everything would be alright, Ell couldn't ignore the possibility of losing the manager. He was supposed to be their guardian angel. What type of angel was he if he couldn't protect them from other people? Fortunately, Housemaster Sei anticipated this, so brought a noise-canceling mask for the angel.

Once  Solomon finished presenting his case, the judge spoke. "Thank you, Mr. Solomon. Now we will ask the defendant to speak."

Yousseff shuffled his papers. He took a deep breath and stood before the court.

"Your Honor," he started. "The 14th Department believes that the manager should not transfer to Devildom. This the first manager in the soul reaper history. Consider it a test run, if you will. With the manager, we will be able to determine whether having a manager is effective in soul reaper activity, especially purification rates."

He took a paper filled with graphs and charts. "According to this report from the Reaper Archives,  the 14th Department had the lowest purification rates last 5 years."

"What the hell? Is he trying to embarrass us?" Sian shook his head.

"Have some trust in him. After all, he's the lawyer," Nine shrugged.

"With this in mind, the department leaders believed that we would benefit from additional managerial support. And ever since then, our purification rates have increased by 30%. Furthermore, we are the only department to have such a large in increase in rates while maintaining the ethical aspect of purification." Youssef continued.

"If that is the case, why not take another human as the manager? Mr. Solomon made it clear that the manager was the first exchange student who has extraordinary magical capabilities, so their presence is important in Devildom. What makes them so special that you cannot retrieve a replacement?"

"Yeah, why can't y'all just pluck another human from your Otherworld thingy?" Mammon leaned back in his seat.

"How about I pluck your glasses and shove them up your ass," Quincy snorted.

"Why use glasses when there are a whole variety of toys? That's much more fun, no?" Asmo said.

"Sir-" The judge started.

"There are children in the room, you filthy, narcissistic freak," Ethan snorted.

"Order!" The judge shouted.

"Don't talk to my brother like that!" Satan shouted.

"Then stop trying to steal our manager, or else I'll bite you!" Kati growled.

Mammon laughed. "Listen pipsqueak. You see Beel over here?" He patted Beelzebub's muscles. "He'd swallow you whole and eat the rest of your team."

"Well I'll be happy to inform you that I've got a whole magical book on how to control demons," Ghilley held up a golden book in his hands.

"Order in the court!" The judge shouted again.

Lucifer glared at the soul reaper, his wings slowly unveiling themselves from his back. "Where did you find that?"

The judge sighed. "Sir, didn't I just-"

Quincy snickered. "What? Now you're scared of some tiny book? I thought you were supposed to have big ego. You know, after God kicked you out of-"

Lucifer lunged for the younger demon. Mori pulled out his cards and threw them at Lucifer's direction. The Avatar of Pride dodged, shifting his target to Mori. But before he could cause further damage, Diavolo and Barbatos grabbed his arms.

"I'm so sorry for Lucifer's outburst. However Quincy, that's a large statement from a demon with a major inferiority complex," Diavolo's smile was tight and thin.

"Alright let me at this motherf-" Quincy ran, but Ethan and June held him back.

"Order in the court!" The judge slammed the gavel. "The next person to speak out of turn will be permanently banned from this establishment."

Everyone sat back in their seats, sending glares to the opposition. The judge looked at Youssef, who continued his case.

Once Youssef ended presenting his case, the judge thanked him and reexamined the paper on their desk.

After a minute a long minute of silence, the judge removed her glasses. "Well both sides make compelling arguments with the manager's prescience needed at both locations. However, we're missing the most important part."

She turned to the manager. "My decision is entirely based on your response to this question, so I'd like you to answer it with some thought."

The manager nods. "I'm ready."

"Do you want to stay in the Otherworld or live in Devildom?"

[soggybensolo]

Sweet Little Lies

CHAPTER ONE

Over All Summary: Reader is a princess taken from her homeworld after a deal with the first order went sideways. a reborn young man by the name of Kylo Ren ( her captor) had taken it upon himself to train the princess- who believes to be a force wielder- in the only way he knows how. she must endure the many trials he had to face in his awakening to the dark side. things over time eventually change when the princess develops a small sense of Stockholm and Kylo Delusions of grandeur. together they form a bond of codependency… UNTIL something happens that splits the two forever.

<INTRO

WARNING: DEPICTION VIOLENCE/ABUSE. PLEASE READ AUTHORS NOTE FOR FUTURE WARNINGS.

A/N: if you are uncomfortable with abuse and or uncomfortable with the ideas of NONCON, manipulation, or death please do not bother reading this. don’t waste your time. this is a work of fiction and does not depict my views. 

slow burn.

There was a muffled rattling sound and slight vibration in the floor. (y/n) had her eyes closed, she was too scared to open them. She had not seen sunlight since taken from Taigawa. She had no idea where she was or what she was being held in. As soon as she was brought onto the ship she was knocked out cold. The Jedi killer was taking precautions, he didn't want to risk accidentally killing (y/n). He had put her limp body in a cage used for rare animals and covered the cage with a thick heavy material. It was cruel and unusual, but he didn't care. Neither did his other comrades. He didn't get to where he was by being polite and thoughtful. He was none other than Kylo Ren, a wild card in Snoke’s deck and the best damn killer to bet money on. Kylo had a personal agenda to stick to. His job was to find the force user, present them to Snoke, and be praised for it. If he was going to live up to his expectations then he would have to put forth a hard effort and stop at nothing. He wasn't scared of dying and he wasn't scared of battle. Kylo Ren was jaded to emotions. The only thing he ever felt was anger and nothing else. Kylo had trained himself to be mind over matter. If he was hungry, he would think of food and he was full. If he were tired, he'd talk himself out of sleep and would build up energy by using the force. He was one step from being a complete sociopath.

  As the cage (y/n) was in came to a stop, she held her breath. She could hear two voices, one she had already heard before and the other she hadn't. When the voices had stopped, (y/n) opened one eye but still saw nothing. Then, all at once her cage was filled with light. The fabric covering her cage had been pulled off, and she quickly sat up. There was a throne in front of her and sitting in it was a very tall humanoid alien male. His skin was sickly pale and his eyes were a piercing pale blue color. It was the Supreme leader of the first order and current master to Kylo Ren. He rose to his feet hastily and hunched over. A deep unsettling growl rumbled in his throat.      

 “I had believed it was the king who was force sensitive but now I can see I was wrong,” he said. “Bring her to me so that I can have a better look at her face.”

The same knight as before, Kylo Ren, ripped open the door to the cage, and with a firm grip he yanked out the girl. When her feet wouldn't move he dragged across the floor and held her upright. The pale alien gripped her face tightly and examined her from every angle. His hand was ice cold against her skin and it felt as if he were just a walking corpse that somehow still had life from within. His sunken in eyes looked so hollow and empty. They were nothing compared to (y/n)'s.

  Her eyes were a rich and still had a very youthful and naive shine to them. Where she was from her looks were rare and only belonged to her father's bloodline. Her hair was was long and the color of it (h/c). She was all Ephraim. The only thing she took after Adah was her small frame and her petite nose. (y/n) was a beautiful Taiganian human female. 

“Where did you find this one?”

 “She is the king's sister, (y/n).” answered the Knight of Ren.

Master Snoke scoffed. “It was his sister all along. Pity, I was hoping to have a new apprentice.”

 Kylo's grip tightened more around (y/n)'s arm. Snoke had other apprentices before him but Kylo wanted to stay the main focus.

“What shall I do with the girl then, Supreme leader? Shall I kill her?”

 “There’s no need for that… but do what you must, Kylo.” sighed the old sovereign.

     Kylo tugged (y/n) all over the grounds of what seemed to be ruined and abandoned planet. shabby buildings were close in distance but all different sizes. The sky was gray and the air humid giving the area an overall murky appearance. She judged by the numerous storm drains, that rain was constant in the area. (y/n) couldn't help but wonder if the planet he had taken her to was Hell. 

 (y/n) stumbled as she was being led to one of the empty buildings that looked the most out of place, it was a hut. The hut looked mostly new like it had just been built not that long ago. It was an elongated adobe made for two. Upon entering the hut, right in the center, was a small clay oven likely used for warmth more than food. The hut was warm when Kylo wanted it to be but it was mostly ever dark, cold and lonely.

   Kylo pushed (y/n) down a narrow hall. He was taking her to one of the rooms that were not being used. It was smaller than his and just two steps away.  Across their rooms was a tiny washroom big enough for one person at a time. It was nothing compared to the luxurious refreshers she was used to. The hut, in general, was nothing compared to her home on Taigawa.

   There were nothing in (y/n)’s quarters. Just a high up glassless window and a pile of ripped up cloth on the floor where a bed should have been. There was no lamp for light or anything to keep the room warm. It felt more like a prison cell than a bedroom. The area smelled wet as if there was water but nothing was dripping from the ceiling and no puddles on the dirt floor.

 (y/n) wrapped her arms around herself, she was out of her element and all she could do was cry.

   “Shut up!” said Ren as he shoved the princess to the ground. 

   Her yellow gown dirtied the instant it met the floor. Curling up into a ball, she brought her head into her hands. Her sobs growing worse. She wished nothing more than to have been killed like her family instead of taken to a strange place by a strange man. She had no idea why her life was spared or why she was important to the knight at all. With the royal family dead, and her kingdom taken over by the first order she was no longer relevant. To the artisan and his apprentice, she was just a girl.

   The masked knight before her squatted down. He was silent for a moment, the room was filled with the sounds of her sobs, and the release of air from his helmet. “You still cry, how pathetic.”

  Young (y/n) lifted her head. Through tear-filled eyes, she peeked at his face. He could have been no older than she was. His physiognomy stern, but he was still very wet behind the ears. She could make out a large nose and what seemed to be scattered freckles and moles. Her vision was too blurry to depict anything else. She could not understand how someone who was practically still a boy, could be so wicked.

   “How is it you are the one the force chose?” he asked picking at a lock of her.

   “I don't know what you're talking about.”

   Kylo tilted his head, lips pouting. “You don't? I think you’re lying, I don't like liars.”

   “I’m not lying.” It was half true. (y/n) knew what the force was but she didn't know how to use it. She was never allowed to talk about it. When she had confided in her mother at a young age she was kept hidden from the outside world in fear she would be taken and forced to be a padawan and one day a Jedi. Taiganian's were not fighters, they did not stand for war. The day Hiram boasted about being one with the force she figured her gift was nothing more than an illusion, a game on her mind. That it was her brother who was meant to be a Jedi knight.

  “I felt it when I killed your family.” Kylo tugged on the hair in his hand. “You caused a ripple. You moved me.”

   (y/n) tried to free herself from his grasp but when she tried to move away he only tugged harder. She let out a small whine that only encouraged him. He tangled one hand at the nape of her neck and slapped down the other on her temple, the leather stinging her skin. He clenched his jaw and brought her face close to his. “Perhaps I shall demonstrate what the force can really do!”

   Searing white-hot pain shot from the center of her brain had filled her body entirely. She had lost control of her arms and her legs spasmed. She felt as if she were being crushed while set on fire, all while being skinned alive. Invisible needles pricked at her fingers and nonexistent cattle prod was poking at her heart. All she could do was scream. When He let her go, her body stayed glued to the ground. She had no strength to move, or make herself comfortable.

   Her lungs burned and her throat was hoarse, she was crying out loud but no sound could be heard. Kylo stared at her body unapologetically. “You didn't like that? Well, it was fun for me.” one of his large hands crept around her throat and pressured it. He was testing her capabilities, sizing her up, trying to determine her force. It was buried but it was there. “If you do not wish for this “fun” to continue, then maybe you should fight back. Show me the force! Use it on me!” (y/n) found the energy to shake her head no. it's not that she didn't want to stop him, she just didn't know-how.

 “No?” he mocked, pressing his fingers tighter around her throat. “You're so weak!”

   Kylo squeezed harder and harder till he shut off her airway completely, holding that her way till she had passed out. He was frustrated with her. He believed she was not worthy of the force. If she did not know how to use it, then she did not deserve it. He spent time coming in and out of (y/n)'s room debating if he should just kill her or not. Each time he entered he changed his mind.

      He would come close to taking her life but would then talk himself out of it. Not because he did not have the courage but because she had the force. He knew he could make something out of her. All he had to do was seduce her into the dark side. Show her all that it had to offer, but Kylo was not sure it would work. (y/n) was weak and her power was small. He would have to teach her the way he was taught. He himself was still learning.

      He would have to teach her.

   The night was still unlike the evening that had past. No crickets were chirping, no wind whistling and no rain falling. In some way in the stillness of the night, (y/n) had managed to drift off into sleep. 

  Not too long after she had cried herself to sleep, she was awakened. Kylo had ripped her up off the floor abruptly and shook her violently. “You don't get to sleep!”

   Her eyes went wide and she was scared. She had not been expecting him to just snatch her so suddenly. Kylo threw (y/n) halfway across her room then used the force to pin her to the wall. “You don't get to sleep till I say you can, and I will say you can when you show me the force!”

   (y/n) shook her head, not wanting to look directly at him. He was wearing his mask again and it scared her. She did not like not seeing his face. It left to much up for her imagination. He could be looking at her with murderous eyes. The eyes are the window to the soul. If she cannot see his eyes then she cannot see his soul. If she cannot see his soul then she cannot see his intentions. Shutting her eyes, she tried to use the waves around her but could not muster up the means to see through him. She had not yet opened her mind's eye because she had not been taught to harness the power of the force. Her efforts were useless.

   “You tell me, no but I can feel you trying to penetrate my mind.” his modified voice hissed low in his throat. “Show me what you can do.”

   (y/n) parted her lashes and shook her head again. She had no idea that what she was doing was actually using the force. Kylo grew angry and gripped the sides of her head.

   “Show me the force!”

   When she failed to comply, just like earlier, he took control of her mind. It was so much worse than the first time. Kylo was in her head and breaching her thoughts. He heard every thought she ever had and saw every memory she ever made. He saw things not even she remembered. Her entire life played before him like a cinematic movie. He knew all about her now; her ups, her downs, her likes, her dislikes, her language, and her culture.

   “If you want me out of your mind, then fight me!” he grunted over her screams. “Fight me!”

   But she couldn't fight. She did not know how.

      “Do it!”

        Nothing.

      “Do it! Use the force!”

      Still nothing.

   “I can feel the force in you! Do not deny it! Show me!”

   Absolutely nothing.

   Drunken by rage, Kylo threw (y/n) to the ground. His fist raised above his head collided with her cheek. She didn’t move she just stayed still. Her mind was racing, trying to figure what it was that just happened. When his fist came again she saw stars, and everything came together. He had punched her. Before she had time to recover from his blow he dragged her body from her room to the front of the hut. He was taking her outside. For what? She didn't know.

   Tugged to her feet, (y/n) struggled to stand straight. She was nearly knocked back when he threw a long wooden dowel her way. She had hardly caught it in time before he had grabbed a stick of his own and whacked her with it. (y/n) fell into a puddle of mud, her dingy yellow gown, now wet, clung to her legs. Pushing herself up to her knees, she pulled herself from the puddle, gripping the sopping heavy fabric as she crawled. She was so focused on getting out of the mud that she hadn't seen Kylo come at her.

   THWACK!

   (y/n) winced as the thick dowel came across her back, knocking her back to the ground. Rolling over she stared up at the sky. Streaks of luminosity were barely peeking through the clouds. The morning was arriving. She had survived one day of torture. 

THWACK!

   The wooden dowel had collided with her stomach, and all the air had left her body. Gasping hungrily at the oxygen she almost missed the stick coming again. (y/n) rolled to her left, dodging him. He came once more, and she rolled to the right landing right back into the liquid dirt.

   “FIGHT!” Kylo let his stick fall from his grasp.

      Straddling (y/n), he flipped her over so her face was in the mud and he held her head under. She kicked her legs but it wasn't enough to knock the boy off of her. She would have used her arms if he hadn't been restraining them behind her back. His hands were large and her wrist was tiny, it didn't take any more than a couple of his fingers to lock them in place. He was bigger than her and far stronger than her. This was a boy who was trained personally by the supreme leader of the first order, and the boy was his apprentice! She did not stand a chance against the likes of Kylo Ren.

   He lifted her head and brought his mask to her ear. “Why do you insist on being so weak? Why do you not try? Is it because you're not strong enough?”

   She only cried out in pain. There was nothing she could say to him.

   “Submit to me and I will teach you the ways of the force.” He said just above a whisper. “Let me show you what the dark side can do for you, and you will never be weak again.”

   “No.” She finally spoke.

   PLOP!

   He pushed her face back into the mud, smothering her some more. After ten seconds he pulled her head back up. “Let me be your teacher!”

   “No!”

   PLOP!

   Her screams were muffled by the mud. Although her voice could not carry out loud he could still hear her. She was struggling to breathe and if he wasn't too careful he would kill her. So, lifting himself off the ground he brought her up with him. (y/n) gasped for air and spit up wet dirt. She was relieved she was still alive but frustrated in his antics. He was being very childish.

   “If you refuse me then you shall be considered a traitor!” Kylo locked (y/n) back in her room and he did not return for three days.

   The hut was silent and still. (y/n) could not feel anyone home, he had left her alone. She could have made an attempt to escape but she did not have the energy. She had not slept in the time he was gone, because without him there she knew other things could get her and she wanted to be awake in case he returned and tried to wake her like the last time. 

You don't get to sleep till I say you can… I will say you can when you show me the force. 

Show me the force.

   Submit to me and I will teach you the ways of the force.

   … let me show you what the dark side can do for you.

   His words were implanted in her like a seed, sprouting over and over. He had left a mark on her and she thought carefully. She was not raised to pick a side whether it was good or evil.  She knew Jedi were good and that they were one with the force. However, no matter how many times Luke Skywalker roamed Taigawa he never came to her like Kylo Ren did. Surely if he had found her first she would have fallen in the right hands. Kylo did not ask her to join his side, he took her. Would Luke have taken her against her will like Kylo did? Would Luke have killed her family? Was she meant to be a Jedi?

   If she were meant to be a Jedi then the light side would have taken her before the dark side did. Though she did not surrender to the dark, it was the path that claimed her first. Even if she did choose to submit, she would not make it. (y/n) could not use the force because she believed (in denial) that she did not have the force. Kylo claimed to have been moved by her and claimed he could feel it in her but she did not want to believe it! To use the force and to join the dark side would be to betray her home and her family's legacy. The Taigania's were not forgiving people.

     After three days Kylo Ren had returned. 

   “Have you reconsidered my offer?” his voice was clear as day and it sent jolts through her bones. It was the only voice she ever heard now.

   When (y/n) did not respond, Kylo nudged her with his boot. “Answer me, girl.”

   “No.” she whispered frail. 

   He said nothing, only dropped to his knees suddenly and gripped her head. She cried out in pain and her back arched from the cold hard ground. He lifted her head once only to slam it against the floor. (y/n)'s brain rattled in her skull and the pain in her head was nothing compared to the pain that came with the force torture. Every time she thought it couldn't get much worse, he found a way to take it up a notch and every time he tortured her mind it always felt different.

Tag List: @treestarrrrrrrr​ @delicatesleeper​ @shockwavee​ @irreverent-dream​ @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark​​ @fire-in-her-veinz​ @ropeh​ @cynthianokamaria​

[thefallencrestfamily]

"The Fallen Crest Family"

Chapter 4: Mela Ami, The Mysterious 14th Misfit Student (2)

As the lunch bell rang, Ameri shows up out of nowhere and drags both Iruma and Alice to a room and lock themselves inside.

Ameri: "Sorry for the sudden rush but this was important and I had to be sure no one else can hear us. Do you remember when you asked for research help about the Crest Family?"

Iruma: "Y-Yeah."

Ameri: "Well, I actually had the liberty to ask my father for the closed case files about it, but I promised him not to tell anyone else and to give it back once we all looked at it, I'm sorry, I couldn't just text classified info."

Iruma: "It's alright Ameri, I appreciate this. Thank you."

All three of them look at the files, as it talks about the crime scene. Pictures of the place burned books and dried blood stains. It seemed like the building itself was still perfectly intact. The case files talked about every name that was counted in as deaths, all except one.

Iruma: "...Melody Crest."

Alice: "It says that she was the only one who wasn't counted as dead, since her body was never found and was reported missing for years until the case file got closed."

Ameri: "It's too bad too, I was told she was a prodigy student of Babylus who was labeled as a Misfit."

Iruma: "...By chance, do you guys know what the Crest Family Bloodline Ability is?"

Alice: "Their Bloodline Ability? Oh, their ability is very rare and was told that the family members barely shows it off unless it was for emergencies. Balam knew Melody Crest during his time with her so he remembers it well, once and only once she has used it in battle. The Bloodline Ability Sacrifice, the ability to sacrifice a piece of themselves in exchange for power be it healing, strength or protection. The more power needed, the more they have to sacrifice themselves."

Iruma: "Sacrifices a piece of themselves..."

Ameri: "We should ask more details with Balam then if he knew about the Family Bloodline and we can go to the Crest Family home afterwards."

Iruma: "Oh yeah, speaking of which. Ameri and Azz, can we have one more person help with the investigation. She too want to learn more about the Crest Family Slaughter, and she knows a lot about the Crest Family through her own solo research before."

Alice: "What's her name?"

Iruma: "Her name is Mela Ami-."

Alice: "Iruma Sir, did you just say Mela was a Ami?! Like part of Kirio Ami's family?!"

Iruma: "Um y-yeah?"

Alice still remembered when Kirio returned to the Battler Room. His eyes that has been taken over by the succumbed by his wicked phase and returned to origins. If Mela is a Ami, then he can't take chances with her being a accomplice to Kirio.

Alice: "Why didn't you say she was a Ami?!"

Ameri: "Alice calm down. Iruma, you are aware of the problems this might turn out if we bring her right? You know the reasons Kirio left the school, so why would you associate yourself with another Ami?"

Iruma: "Because she was a illegitimate child of the Ami Family and was abandoned at a young age, so she resents her family and prefers not to be mentioned as a Ami. I doubt she even knows who Kirio even is."

Ameri and Alice looked to each other. Both had their suspicions, but it was clear she probably hasn't even met Kirio. Suddenly a phone call from Clara in Iruma's phone stops the silence between them.

Clara: "Iruma-kins, where are you? Me and La La already finished our lunches in the Cafeteria and playing what she calls Luffy Pow!"

Alice & Ameri: "Luffy Pow?"

Iruma: "Sorry Clara, something happened but me and Azz are on our way."

Iruma and Alice say their goodbyes to Ameri, as they go off to see Clara and Melody of the aftermath with what was basically a paintball fight but with giant cotton balls.

Melody: "That was so much fun!"

Clara: "Let's play again soon like this, okay La La?"

Melody: "Yeah! I look forward to it! But first... Clera Ricos Disineria!"

Immediately after saying those words, the paint cotton balls surrounding them disappeared. All three were shocked as they never saw a spell like this before.

Alice: "Where did you learn to do a spell like that? I never seen anything like it."

Melody: "Oh that spell? It was self taught. It's a spell I made myself."

Alice: "You made that spell?!"

Melody: "Yeah, it's something I've been passionate about for a long time. It's also how I was able to move up the ranks in my first year. Without my spells, I wouldn't be where I am."

Alice: "Spells? As in plural?! You have more?!"

Melody: "Why yes. After my exams, I can teach you guys a few easy Mela Spells I came up with if it interests you."

Alice, Iruma & Clara: "Yes!"

---------

Time passed by so quickly, that school ended and everyone already left to go home. The teachers had a meeting with Lord Sullivan, who need as many teachers to volunteer to judge the Talent Exam. After a lot of discussions Kalego, Dali, Robin, Suzy & Raim decided to be the judges. Similar to the Musical Festival, she had to perform to pass with a 666 marm. But this would be different. No music specialist judges could come at last minute, so she would have to fight against teacher judges for a 66666 mark.

Dali: "Are you sure this is okay? Sure she finished the Written Exam with ease, but don't you think getting a perfect 66666 for all five teachers is a little too much to ask for the poor girl?"

Kalego: "She can handle it if she is ambitious enough to join the Misfits in Royal One."

Robin: "Well I just look forward to see what she has in store! If she passed Kalego's Written Exam so quickly, I'm dying to know what she'll do next."

Suzy: "Mm hm, same here."

Raim: "Hold on... do you guys hear that?"

Kalego: "Yeah, no one else should be in this school but us."

Kalego and the 4 other teachers decide to investigate the sound and as they got close they realized it was more than one sound. The sound of a orchestra coming from outside.

The peeked over to see multiple clones of Melody playing many different classical instruments with several other Melody clones singing in a chorus. The piece they were playing was Six Trillion Years & Overnight Story, a song they never heard before.

Robin however stepped on a twig from behind and in a panic, Melody stopped her music from loss of focus and turned off her clones, as they disappeared with their instruments.

Melody: "Who's there?!"

Kalego told the four other teachers to stay as Kalego was the only one to decide to reveal himself instead. Melody sighed in relief from his presence as he approached her.

Kalego: "What are you doing in the school grounds this late?"

Melody: "I was just practicing is all. I couldn't do it at home, and since the music rooms tend to close off bookings after 6pm, I had to find open space."

He remembers that he had locked and kicked her off the Royal One room because school ended for the day. And if she stayed in the music room after school, she practiced for another 3 hours. That means she has been practicing all day, how is she not tired? But he looked at her face and saw worry and stress.

Kalego: "You have a gift for musical talent. And to be able to play so many roles with mirror clones of yourself takes a lot of focus. And it looks like you have a performance picked out. So what's bothering you that can make you stay in school grounds this late?"

Melody: "To be honest, I haven't chosen a performance yet. All the stuff you saw, it was just to help me think of ideas to make the performance better."

Kalego: "But your performance was-."

Melody: "Good? I know... but I want a performance that represents me. I wanna tell my story as I sing. I don't just aim for scores, Mr. Naberius, I aim to tell my identity on stage."

For a small moment, Kalego saw "Mela" as Melody, repeating those same words all those years ago. But the moment stopped when he felt a hand touching his face, realizing he started tearing up.

Melody: "Mr. Naberius? Are you okay?"

Kalego: "I'm fine, get your hand off me."

Kalego pushed her hand away as his tears dried off. Why was he remembering now? He pushed his memories of first year away because of the incident with the Crest Family was preventing him from pursuing his ambitions. He had to give up on her and deliberately tried to forget her. And yet, this girl who appeared so suddenly makes him remember the girl he tried so hard to push away. And then finally he asks."

Kalego: "Have we met before all of this?"

Melody: "No, we haven't. I only met Balam in a bookstore beforehand."

Kalego: "...Tell me how you saw him without him detecting you?"

Melody: "I use detection warding glasses."

Kalego: "Why would you need them when going to the bookstore?"

Melody looks down, twiddling her thumbs as her face turns a little red. Was she blushing?

Melody: "O-Oh that... Well um... It was... because I was banned from going to the bookstore after multiple accidental spellcasting incidents from reading the spellbooks. I got too excited and I was always a curious person when it came to spells so I... I wasn't always thinking about the consequences. So when I would go there, I would use the detection warding glasses and for extra measure, I'd use a temporary silence spell I made myself so I don't speak out spells in the store anymore."

So that's what happened. It would make sense that a girl who caused so much trouble at a store because of her ambitions and interests. Sullivan was right, she was a troublemaker when it came to her love for spellcasting. If she passes, chaos would ensue, he would have to ensure limits on the girl.

Kalego: "...Tell me. How many times have you caused trouble with your experiments on spells? Give me a average number."

Melody: "I guess like... 3-7 times a day."

Kalego: "And how many of those are serious?"

Melody: "Like... 1 or 2 a day?"

Kalego facepalmed himself. She's worse than Iruma's attraction to danger. At least with Iruma, he tries to dodge danger and unintentionally puts himself in danger through reactions, with her though she speeds head on. Now worried about this girl's future, he's just thinking how her home life by herself. Probably a mess.

Kalego: "You know what...I kept you here too long. Let me take you home."

Melody: "Are... Are you sure?"

Kalego: "Yes, and I guess I can help you try to decide your song as we go."

That confused Melody for a moment, as Kalego didn't make eye contact with her.

Melody: "Why thought?"

Kalego: "Because I was suppose to kick you out originally but ended up stalling instead, so I take full responsibility for tonight. I don't want you doing this again, you got that brat."

Oh. He was just worried in his own way. Kalego was always stubborn.

Melody: Sure okay I guess-.

Kalego: "Also, I want to see the state of you home. You live alone right? I need to inspect so I can confirm you living situation."

Melody: "...Wait what?!"

[Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

[cozy-possum]

Summary: Emmett/Maria; friendship @su-angelvicioso

Emmett pretends not to know why he’s down there. He considers playing up the lie that he’d gotten lost; but then he remembers that she knew about Jasper; which meant she knew about Carlisle; and him; and everyone else so she wouldn’t be surprised to see golden eyes. Just the fact he was not Jasper or anyone she had heard of. He wonders if the confusion will be enough to spare him from what Jasper alway touted as a deadly welcome of newborns rushing you. Emmett wasn’t cocky enough to believe he could survive more than five newborns.

He kicks at the dirt; the rocks that had been in his path crumble from the force and he winces. Jasper had advised loose cool clothing; but long sleeves and pants; that he wouldn’t look that odd when he’d wander through towns. Emmett’s regretting taking Jaspers request; to deliver a handful of letters that Jacob had been hiding for him and some scorpion food as well as a few dresses and some very high platform boots. Emmett’s sure that Maria’s feet aren’t a size seven and he reasons they’re for Charlotte; he contemplates them being for Peter but decides that Jasper’s brother in arms wouldn’t go for something so flashy and shimmering as red and gold. Still he makes it past the last town on the map; Jasper having assured him that their base of operations was only a few miles out. He’s debating giving up when a truck slows in front of him and Peter hops out grinning. “Heyyy Em; glad to see you under better circumstances. You’re looking good in plaid; you finally convince the missus to take a vacation” Peter drawls and Emmett shakes his head gesturing to the backpack and suitcase he has. “No, I'm playing pack mule for Jasper; Alice; well anyways.” He grins as Peter takes the suitcase and offers him a spot in the truck.

“Hey Charlotte; guessing the shoes are for you?” Emmett grins as Charlotte beams. “Aww Jazz is such a sweetheart; i mentioned how he set up that modelling gig for me and then he said i needed more pretty things...since someone;” She glares lovelingly at Peter. “Doesn’t have a job.” “Child labour laws babe.” “You’re like 200 years old… you only look like 20; you could get a job…” Peter taps the side of his face before winking at her. “Not without spending my wages on contacts or becoming like those Cullens. No offence.” Peter grins at Emmett who laughs nodding.

Maria’s base of operations is closer to a mansion ranch house than what Jasper had tried to play off as a barn and some spare rooms. She looks up from a desk when he enters grinning at the bags he sets down. He’s about to say something but she just ignores him turning back to whatever she was working on before. “Hello… You must-” “You’re staring? You’re like Jasper then? Got a thing for-” Maria laughs as Emmett knows he makes a face. “No I just..” ”You’re going to call me short right?” “No; you’re just, well hell you’re really scary looking; not like ugly but you just got this vibe..” He shrugs a little and Maria grins. “Thank god you’re sensible. Now; how about a tour.”

Maria brings him around the entire ranch in less than ten minutes and Emmett is surprised to see her so casual about using her vampire traits out in the open. Even her skin shimmers a blinding golden colour. “You can take that off; we’re far enough out most humans won’t make it out here; and if they do; well the desert always claims someone during the year.” She shrugs and Emmett looks surprised. “What were you expecting?” She tilts her head and Emmett laughs a little. “To be honest I was expecting a military base; with drill sergeants and everything; but it’s just you and your family; not seeming very threatening.” As emmett finishes Maria snaps twice and suddenly the room is swarmed with the newborns clawing and glaring at Emmett. Maria snaps twice more and the newborns vanish. “You were saying.”

“Jesus that was like the fucking lord of the rings with the orcs in the cave…” “Lord of the rings?” Maria furrows her brow and Emmett beams. “Are you telling me Jasper hasn’t shown you Lord of the Rings??? “No we watched the Star Wars ones last time he was here but…” “Right now!!” Emmett nods seriously and Maria rolls her eyes. “Good luck finding that in the town…”

”So” Emmett grins after they’ve finished marathoning it. “I see; come with me.” Maria’s grinning and Emmett is wearing a matching smile. Maria escorts him to a large open field. She nods to him her grin seeming to grow as two of the newborns appear holding a massive trunk. “They’re just human grade… so nothing-” Maria doesn’t finish; Emmett beaming holding two massive swords up. “Fight me!” He laughs as Maria joins in; pulling out another sword and a shield. “Let’s go!” Emmett charges her laughing and grinning.

It only takes them a few hours to run through the weapons in the trunk. “We can get more in my storage shed.” “You have a storage shed of weapons…” “Well of course; where do you think the Volturi get their weapons?” Emmett cheers, laughing. It’s much later in the second day. Almost night, Emmett would make some quip about it being twilight but he knows Maria doesn’t count the days like that; between all the fun they’d had and the strategy and war meetings that Maria tried to hide from him she seemed to keep her days looped on a varying schedule of meetings, fighting and casual relaxing, Emmett notes than none of it involves a pretense of being human; of pretending to be what she once was. Emmett wants to ask about the war; about the letters Jasper has sent but he doesn’t. Thankfully he doesn’t have too.

“So why are you here? It’s not like Jasper to have someone playing pack mule..” “Well things haven’t been going well at home..” “Ah Yes; Ms, Bella Swan nee Cullen, correct? Is she causing him problems?” “No; Alice is. She’s being very; protective; of him.” “Obsessive is more like it..” Emmett doesn’t nod but he makes a hum of agreement. “She saw a vision of them together when she was first turned.” “She should know best out of everyone how the future can change.” “She gets muddled up in it..” “So she denies the supposed love of her unlife, what would make him most comfortable; being away from what was a century’s worth of miserable meals, and the negative temptation of idiot humans who stare and prattle about emotions. Sure that makes sense.” “He talks about you sometimes.” “Well we still talk..”

“No like; he talks about you; tells us about battles you won and fun things you guys got up to during his time here. Even the visits.” “And what does this tell you about me?” Maria arches her eyebrow and looks unimpressed at him; Emmett grins sheepishly. “To be fair; not much… Says more about him than you.” “Oh?” Maria’s grin borders on too wide and she leans forward. “And what does Mi amor say about me then?” Emmett laughs a little and shakes his head. “You should go up and ask him yourself…” “Well when are you going back; I’ll come with you.” 

She grins and Emmett debates even telling her to rethink; judging by the way her eyes shine he knows she’d just follow him anyways. “I just don’t know how warmly you’ll be welcomed…” “We’re vampires. Dead creatures; nothing warm about us.” Emmett laughs and nods at her assessment and he almost wishes he was able to warn Jasper but then he stops; agreeing with Maria that it’s far better to surprise your prey than give them a chance to escape.

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[write-like-you-mean-it]

A Hunter’s Prey: Severed Heads and Explosions

I hadn’t realized that I’d fallen asleep until I was awoken by a soft shake and Illumi stating: “The match will be happening soon.”

I blinked the sleep away as Illumi’s face came into my vision. “What battle?” I mumbled while sitting up. Everything came back to my memory before Illumi could respond. “Oh that one. Just give me a second.” A stretching yawn wracked through my body. How long could’ve I slept? 

Illumi stood watching over me with a tiny smile on his face. Once I had fully stretched, I questioned “what are you smiling about?”

“Cute,” was all he said before heading towards the door. With that one word. My heart melted. Maybe he was actually taking a relationship seriously; beyond what he was capable of. 

I combed through my hair with my hands. It’d been so long since I was able to change and feel normal again. It would be nice to go back to the mansion after all of our fighting. We might be able to make preparations for our future together. 

The hallways seem never ending. It wasn’t until Illumi stopped in front of a certain door and knocked. Hisoka in all his clown glory answered the door with only one knock. “Illu glad you actually could come~.” The clown’s piecing yellow eyes landed on me. A sharp sense of dread shivered through my body. Illumi’ protectively took a step forward to block some view of him. “I can see you two made up. How’s Illu in bed? He must be a fine lover for you to actually stay with him.” The lover comment was emphasized with a seductive wink.

“-That’s not your concern,” interrupted Illumi.  “I wanted to tell you to not kill yourself today. You told me that I could do it.”

“Ah, wishing me luck~. That's so sweet of you.” The clown strutted down the hallway after closing his own door. “You and I both know I won’t die. If anything, you get the money anyways.”

“Money?” I asked Illumi while trying to keep up with the two mountains of men. Illumi gave me a look as if I should stay silent. I nodded my head but stayed close behind. 

“Yes but I’d rather have the kill for myself.”

“Too bad that the spider leader gets me first. You and I know he’s hiding something.” We all enter an elevator together until we get to a heavily packed arena. People were flooding in from all sides to watch this fight. Hisoka only smiled at his stage. “See you later, Illu~.” With that, he was gone. 

I grabbed onto Illumi’s hand as we wadded through the crowd. Illumi stopped for a second to look at the unknown touch. He held our hands up to get a closer look. “Why do you need to hold onto me? You can spot me in a crowd.”

“Uhm yeah,” I said while letting go. I felt a little sulkne at his neglect for affection outside of our room; however, I knew this was outward Illumi and not lover Illumi. A dialectic of the same person that has to be personified in two ways. Well, two ways that I know of. 

It only took thirty minutes for the crowds to disperse. Illumi guided me to a station that held overflow for fights. Since this fight came so quickly, people had acquired the tickets in a day. The overfill wasn’t even a quarter full due to it not being as fun. Illumi and I took a seat towards the back. Towards the front of the room, there sat Machi, Kortopi, and Shalnark. I sunk down in my seat so that Machi wouldn't see me. She would never approve of me with Illumi. 

Soon enough, the fight was going to start. Chrollo and Hisoka took center stage in a massive arena. The two looked determined. Hisoka with a smirk painted onto his face. Chrollo with the same  determined look that always lay on his face. 

The two were talking before the fight. We couldn’t hear due to the preppy girl that always spoke during the match. Suddenly, the referee held his hand in the air. “Weapons are allowed. The match will begin in 3...2...1…”

Hisoka was the first to make a move. He pulled out a few playing cards. He readies it for the attack. Chrollo takes out his small black book that I’d seen countless times. It was the same one he brought on our “date,” the same one that he told me not to worry about, and the same one that he kept by him at all times. He lied to me about the importance of the book.”

“You didn’t happen to show him your Nen ability did you?” asked Illumi. His voice drew me out of the fight that had started. 

“No,” I said while sinking lower into my seat. “Machi told me not to.”

“Good,” he said while turning back to the screen. 

I didn’t notice before but Chrollo also had a small black antenna in his other hand. Chrollo opens the book and starts talking. This time, they zoom in enough that we can catch bits and pieces of Chrollo’s voice through the speakers. His voice was soft and alluring even without completely understanding his words. 

Within a split second, Chrollo attaches the antenna to the back of the judge on the mat. People all around the stadium gasp. 

Hisoka, rather than being nervous, chuckles at the situation put before him. A phone appeared from the spider’s leader’s hand. It was one I’d seen Shalnark holding a few times. Chrollo produced another antenna at the same time the judge started attacking Hisoka. 

Hisoka kicks the judge in the face to send him flying in the other direction. It was a powerful kick that should’ve broken any bones in the ribs of the judge. While Hisoka was busy, Chrollo lunged at the clown. Rather than hitting, Chrollo feins an attack which seems to catch the clown off guard. 

A flurry of kicks were headed in Hisoka’s direction. He holds his arms and Legs close to his body to guard from the attack. From across the room, the judge’s body flies and almost hits Chrollo from behind. He moves out of the way within a second. 

Hisoka, rather than becoming worried, only seems to get a higher thrill out of the attack. He uses a card to slice the neck of the judge. I gasp and turn to look away. This was all surreal. I’d seen Heaven’s Arena fights before but nothing like this. I look up to Illumi to see that he’s unphased. How can he remain so calm? Right. He’s actually taken a life before. This is nothing abnormal to him. 

Like a moth to a flame, I turned back the screen. I’d missed an explosion. Where the judge stood, there was a charred mess of a man. Chrollo stood behind with his hands held up. One hand held a sun and the other a plus sign. The book had dropped a little bit before the explosion. 

From what I could make out, Chrollo explained that if the plus touched the sun, the target would explode. They could be placed anywhere and on anyone. Once they touched, the explosion would happen again. My breath caught in my chest. Chrollo wouldn’t try to blow himself up, would he?

The battle seemed to come to a halt when Chrollo was explaining some more comments about his book. “Illumi?” I ask. He looks towards me a little annoyed that I was taking him away from the fight. “Do you know what's so special about his book?”

“From what Hisoka told me, Chrollo is a specialist. This means he can use Nen under conditions. One of those was that he had to hold the book open while he attacked. With the bookmark that he pulled out, it seems as though that is not the case anymore.” I nod my head but the specialist category was not one that I put time into reading. I was too focused on my own to read up about others. 

Chrollo was still discussing his Nen ability to Hisoka. I cursed the terrible video crew for not getting clean audio for this fight. I wanted to hear every word muttered by Chrollo. I could pick up that he had another ability to share. This one had to do with manipulation of puppets. 

Miraculously, Chrollo turned the page once again and made a copy of the judge’s dead body. To demonstrate the ability, Chrollo gave a small command to the new body and it attacked Hisoka with ease. 

The clown easily removes the head of the fake judge. I let out a small gasp as Chrollo only nods from the screen. A decapitation leads the person to stop being manipulated by this attack. The puppet drops to the ground. It didn’t disappear until the Spider had changed to another page. 

There was only one more ability. Again, Chrollo holds up his hands to the camera. One hand held an arrow pointing up and the other held one pointing down. From the words spoken, I could discern that Chrollo was able to trade places with someone by his touch. 

I rubbed the temples of the head as all of this was too much to bear. If this was the curse of a specialist then I never wanted to meet one in battle. One attack manipulated a living target, one attack would explode, one attack would swap places, one attack would manipulate a copy of a person, and one attack would copy a person. All of this was on top of Chrollo’s ability to use more abilities than one. 

Chrollo finalizes his speech with a smile and a simple question: “Hisoka, shall we continue?”

“Absolutely.” With that, Chrollo bookmarked a page and leapt into the crowd. He pulls out the antenna and phone. Hisoka was hot on his tail as they both were going to enter the audience. Hisoka kept a small amount of distance due to the flurry of attacks that Chrollo held. 

A man starts to attack Hisoka as a way to block the view of Chrollo for the rest of the people. Hisoka rips him apart. Chrollo had disappeared from the view of the camera and from a confused Hisoka. 

This is why Chrollo didn’t want me in the gallery. It would be too dangerous for any of us to watch the fight. Chrollo was going to use the audience as bait for the murderous clown. People were running for the exits and screaming. Each scream terrified me to the core. I looked at the back exit to see a bunch of people running for the door. A few from this room ran too. 

My eyes finally went back to the screen. Audience members start to attack Hisoka in droves. Many of them seem to be controlled to attack. Murder after murder happens right in front of my eyes. The puppets start holding each other so that they could stack quickly as Hisoka flies up to the ceiling. 

As Hisoka is flying, a changed Chrollo comes up from behind and hits him in the back of the head. Hisoka is thrown to the ground as mobs of drones attack him. The clown easily evades and executes the masses. 

Chrollo finds another opening and attacks Hisoka. A swift attack that seemed unavoidable. Hisoka, on the other hand, had an attack fly from across the room. It was a severed head from one of his victims. The leader dodges it with ease before a second head flies through the air and hits him in the face. 

The head caught Chrollo off guard. The first one comes flying once again at Chrollo and hits him in the side. The army was still attacking Hisoka as if they were a drove of mindless zombies. Chrollo had disappeared once again into the fleeing crowd. 

Copies of the crowd started to appear. It became obvious where Chrollo decided to hide in all the chaos down below. I watch as Chrollo gets beat down by the severed head. On the ground, lay a bloodied and broken Chrollo. 

Tears stream down my face. I wipe them quickly away. Chrollo, my only friend in all this shit, couldn’t die. The camera zoomed in closer and I realized that it wasn’t Chrollo. It was a person that had taken his clothes. 

Hisoka scans the audience in hopes of finding Chrollo for a second time. Over the loudspeakers, came the same cheery announcer voice. “Stay calm everyone! Paramedics and security are on their way.” Her voice was replaced by another in the crowd. The deep voice of Chrollo himself “Break Hisoka.”

The words were so loud and clear. Hundreds of puppets ran down the arena steps to go and attack Hisoka. They were ravenous. Hisoka only stood with a decapitated head in his left hand. As the clown fends for himself, the head explodes in his hand. 

Most of Hisoka’s hand was obliterated. All that was left was a messy, gory scene of blood and skin. A second bomb exploded behind Hisoka which caught his attention. The second attack had blown off his left leg. Again, there was little left of the body part. 

The clown barely reacted as he summoned another body to use as an escape. He decapitated the body and used it to attack the other zombified people. Hisoka flies across the room once again as if there was a string attached to his body. 

A flurry of corpses jumped off the second balcony and attached Hisoka. An explosion took place as they bumped into each other. Hisoka’s body hit the ground. He’s not dead yet but the puppets were coming in close. 

Hisoka hugs his body tightly as if to give up. The last thing seen on the screen was a massive explosion that rang throughout the building. I, absentmindedly, turn into Illumi. The stoic man’s face never changed throughout the fight; however, he’d just lost his friend. There was no escaping the horror that had just taken place. Hisoka was dead. 

Illumi’s idea of comfort was different then my own. His eyes never left the screen even after it went blank many, many moments before. I turn his face to look at me. “It’s going to be alright,” I say knowing that I was lying. This was so much more than I could ever give him. He watched his friend explode upon impact. 

A chilling thought ran through my body. Would Illumi do this? Would he battle someone way out of his level in the hopes of achieving victory? Would he kill himself in the process? All of this was too real. I finally realized what Illumi meant when he said ‘don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.’

[mlpdestinyverse]

Destinyverse: The Dazzlings

"You can't turn away. We'll make you want to stay. We will be adored Tell us that you want us We won't be ignored It's time for our reward Now you need us. Come and heed us. Nothing can stop us now!"  _________________

I said it once and I'll say it again; I really love the Dazzlings. It's mainly thanks to these lyrics from their song "Welcome to the Show" that I've developed many inspired ideas behind both the Dazzlings and siren species as a whole. First! Let's get into some siren Destinyverse headcanons before jumping into the history of our last three remaining pure-blooded sirens; Adagio, Sonata, and Aria. Summary Under The Cut!

THE SIRENS

In the world that once was, now known as the Pre-Equestrian era, the Ancient Alicorn of Mischief, Lugh, breathed life into beautiful beasts she named the Sirens. Based upon the pearlescent shores of the Isles of Anthemosa, the sirens were magical creatures of song and sea, with vibrant flowing fins, glimmering iridescent scales, and enchanting voices that were unmatched by anyone. An all-female species, the members of the tribe had their own means of magic-based procreation. Each family of sirens lived under a single alpha matriarch who established peace and order. Sirens were also granted a long lifespan of over 500 years.

Proud and exuberant by nature, sirens loved the sound of their own voices and music became a part of their everyday lives. A siren's song was thought to be an extension of who they were and was considered one of the most important aspects a siren saw in others as well as themselves. The sirens saw great meaning - even vulnerability - in sharing their music and being heard; sirens would sing to bond with others, to calm themselves, to comfort their offspring, or even to capture the attention of a potential mate. Sirens would often join together in harmonies for fun. Especially bonded sirens could be consistently in-sync with one another, dancing and harmonizing perfectly.

Each siren came into existence with a single gem that was designed to not only allow them to concentrate magic into their voices, much like a unicorn casting spells with their horn, but also possessed the ability to draw in and store negative energy, converting it into extra magical power for their personal usage. This ability did not often come into play for a species as self-reliant and isolated as the sirens were at the time. However, it gave the sirens a reason to enjoy toying around with their prey, consisting of various species of fish and sea mammals. They would draw out burst after burst of fear, and once bored or satisfied, would use their magical songs to make their prey willing targets before going in for the kill.

The gems of the sirens varied in color. Gems of similar color between sirens usually signified some sort of family relation.

A siren's voice was magically-laced and nothing less than powerful. Intentionally or not, their music, when gracing the ears of creatures less powerful than them, never seemed to fail in placing said creatures in a trance-like and arguably relaxing state. While these effects wore off some time after a song ended, this ability - in addition to their proficiency in charm spells - aided the sirens in their hunts and any battles against threats. But the bigger the target, and the more targets present, the more voices and power they'd need to entrance or have their charm spells take effect

Unfortunately, the voices of the sirens did not fall only on the ears of the local wildlife or their own kind. Seafaring ponies and other traveling creatures of flight would venture into proximity of the sirens' territory and unintentionally hear their captivating voices from afar. In their hypnotized states, the accidental victims would then mindlessly draw closer, only to fall to the waters and drown or cause shipwrecks by crashing into the cliffs and rocks of Anthemosa. The sirens were blamed as a result, accused of purposely luring in innocent sailors and travelers. In the aftermath of such annoying and offensive ill-rumors, the sirens stuck even closer to their isles. From then on they chose to scare off any approaching ships or travelers if it meant keeping their peace intact in the face of such egotism.

The sirens did, however, have an allyship with another tribe. They are currently remembered as the Merponies (not to be confused with the Seaponies of the Hippogriffs), created by and once under the leadership of the Ancient Alicorn of Seas, Léon (also noted in history as "King Leo"). The sirens and merponies often came together to hold peaceful and joyous feasts. It allowed the sirens to happily flourish their voices, a fun and relaxing experience the merponies greatly enjoyed. They would even exchange songs, and while the sirens held their own voices in high regard, they respected and could even appreciate the songs of their allies, even if said songs could not quite compare.

_______________________________________________

The Three Sisters

Adagio was the firstborn child of her family within the Siren tribe. Bright-eyed, strong-willed, and assertive even at her young age, the amber siren had a strong voice and an inner strength that had many fondly believing that she had a chance at becoming a future tribe leader in her own right. Such compliments did not fail to get to Adagio's head, and she took great joy in showing off her grand leadership skills every chance she was given, especially when her tribe leader or mothers were watching.

In the following years (granted, a single siren year can equate to mere months for the average pony), Adagio was given a younger sister in Aria. An outspoken and stubborn child, the violet-colored siren (not-so-secretly) envied the praise Adagio received. She aimed to receive the same respect and attention as her older sister, often following her around and even challenging her to scuffles. Unfortunately for Aria, Adagio's vocal prowess and slightly larger size would always best her. Despite how much she huffed in the aftermath, what was secret was Aria's silent and genuine admiration of her sister's abilities and persona....though she'd rather die before she ever admitted that to her. She'd never hear the end of it.

A bit more unexpectedly came their youngest sister Sonata, a cerulean siren who...while talkative and lively, proved to be tremendously inattentive and "slower" than the average fish. This lead to some teasing from other young sirens, but said teasing always ended up short-lived. Both Adagio and Aria would rush in to scare off the bullies (and almost bite off a bit of fin). Though their younger sister annoyed them more times than not, and having her around was a bit of a drag, even they could recognize Sonata's struggle to fit in. Adagio - giving a stink eye to any judging face that looked at her sister the wrong way - settled on simply having Sonata stay close and tag along with her and Aria from then on. Aria begrudgingly followed her decision, despite how much she and Sonata would squabble over the smallest of things. An irritated growl or a warning nip from Adagio would usually put them back in line.

As young adolescents with full freedom to roam around the isles, Adagio in her cockiness pondered over the idea of her and her sisters experiencing a hunting expedition all by themselves. Because surely, utilizing the bit of energy they had collected during the last hunt they shadowed, she and her sisters could test themselves and prove their capabilities to the older sirens. Yes, Aria could prove herself. Sonata could prove herself. But well, more importantly, Adagio could prove herself far more than she already had. They could even turn it into a game and see who could catch the most fish! It wasn't hard to convince her sisters and have them join her in swimming beyond the reefs, further than they were normally allowed. And Adagio never foresaw the impact that single choice would make.

Relentlessly churning waters, dark skies beyond the surface, and a quickly clouding sea caught the sisters off guard in the middle of their fruitful hunt. Losing their sense of direction and unable to swim to the seemingly storming, thunderous surface, the frightened young sirens quickly took shelter deeper within the ocean, hiding in the first underwater cave they could find. They waited out what appeared to be a catastrophic storm. Unbeknownst to them, a destructive event in pre-Equestrian history, The Cataclysm, had begun.

When nearly a full day had passed and the faintest traces of sunlight once again shone through the waves, the three sisters quickly made their way back home, the hunt forgotten. But upon their return, devastation greeted them. A half-destroyed home, with dead plant matter, collapsed cliffsides, and scorched sands that once shone like pearls in the sunlight. And no sign of any other siren, aside from the charred remains of scales. The sisters frantically searched around the isles to no avail. And with no other leads or any other place to go, they waited. And waited. For years they waited, with the tiniest sliver of hope that even one other siren had escaped the destruction of whatever had occurred. Maybe the others were afraid of returning. Or perhaps the sisters were afraid of leaving.

Prey became hard to come by. Though their meager hunting skills landed them a few small meals, the destruction had chased away or killed off most of the surrounding ecosystem. When food became far too scarce for Adagio and her sisters to thrive, the amber siren had to make a terrible decision. But a necessary decision. After their long, hopeless wait, Adagio coaxed her sisters away from their home. What was once home. With heavy hearts and survival being at the forefront of Adagio's mind, the three swam off to unchartered waters. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outcasts

Through the years, Adagio, Aria, and Sonata traversed the expansive seas. While they kept an eye out for other sirens, the merponies their tribe once called friends, as well as their own Alicorn Goddess, not a single trace could be found. It was also difficult to seek out answers when other inhabitants of the sea insistently avoided their path. Whether it was lingering fear in the aftermath of the destruction or due to the sirens' reputation of being vicious hunters, nothing brought assurance to the sisters. The seas felt unwelcoming and the tides brought more threatening predators than their level of magic had them prepared for. The young sirens found themselves constantly on the move, as any potential territory was either already inhabited or was far too dangerous for the sirens to settle down in. Besides... nothing compared to the paradise that had once been Anthemosa. Their calls and weak melodies left unanswered, the silent and empty sea was only a reminder of how truly alone they had become.

It was hardest to get Sonata to grasp the gravity of their situation. "Where did everyone go?" she'd ask over and over again. "I want to go home." While frustrated, hearing her sister's genuine confusion and fear stung Adagio deep. Aria's sporadic, angry outbursts towards Sonata - just barely masking her slowly dawning realization and grief - did nothing to ease the sickness in Adagio's stomach. Because while she fought to ignore the prodding in her mind, she knew. It was her fault they hadn't been there when the others fell. And no amount of denial after so many years erased the truth; they were really all that was left of their kind.

They were lost and without purpose. Despite her aggressive leadership and strong front, survivor's guilt consumed Adagio with each passing day. Yet she refused to let her own anguish and hopelessness take her. And as the oldest remaining siren, she wouldn't let the weight of reality take her sisters either. Resilient and determined, Adagio silently planned their next course of action. That's when it came to her: after centuries of their tribe's isolation, maybe it was finally time to leave the seas and integrate their kind with the land dwellers. Why stay put in the silent ocean, already unwanted and forgotten? They had so much culture and history and, most of all, the power and pride of their songs to share.

Adagio, ready for the next leg of their journey and with her head held high, lead her more hesitant sisters onto the shores of Equestria. The curious sights of pastures and towns and land critters overwhelmed them, but the sisters pushed on until they came face-to-face with ponykind. The ponies were a mix of awe-stricken and cautious in their presence. There before them hovered three beautiful yet intimidating creatures, easily towering them in size. With a little time, the sirens' confident demeanors (as well as their relatable sibling banter) drew out curiosity from friendlier folk.

The sisters learned much in the short period of time they spent simply testing the waters: a mysterious storm or entity or force that had been the cause of what they called "The Cataclysm"; the disappearance of the ancient Alicorns; the founding of Equestria, and the peaceful union of the three pony tribes in the past decade. While no amount of information brought the sisters closure to what had transpired, the sirens at the very least felt the promising beginnings of a newfound allyship with the ponies. The very idea of having camaraderie again brought the three a sense of relief and comfort they hadn't felt in the ten years they had wandered alone. And as it turned out, ponies enjoyed songs! Eager to extend themselves and reveal their incredible talents, the sisters offered their heartfelt melodies to their company. As was the natural effect of their voices, the ponies were placed in a relaxed, trance-like state as they blissfully gave Adagio, Sonata, and Aria their full attention. As far as the sisters understood, they were giving an unforgettable, soothing performance deserving of praise. However, those outside of earshot - spectators who recognized the familiar signs they had heard of so long ago of hypnotic voices and doe-eyed stares- went into an absolute frenzy.

The old tales of "ocean beasts with magical voices, coaxing all who listened to their doom" resurfaced at once. And after witnessing it before their very eyes, the villagers turned on the siren sisters. The three were accused of using sinister charms to trick and turn the townsfolk into their next meal. The ponies shouted that their songs were evil, and fearfully grabbed their weapons to chase off the "beasts". Negativity surrounded the sisters, and as designed, all three sirens' gems drew the townsfolk's emotions in. But the spare magical energy did not come with satisfaction or pride. In all their hopeless years, this was never the energy or the mortifying response their longing hearts had wished for. With little time to defend themselves, they were spat at and bombarded with weapons until they were driven out. Though not before being told to leave their land and never return.

Word of the sirens and their "dark magic" spread like wildfire through various towns of eastern Equestria. Rumors of their dangerous intent, rumors that they could very well be the remaining monstrosities of the defeated Father of Monsters, Grogar. No matter where they went, the moment they were recognized, ponies screamed in fear and refused to listen to their voices. Some struggled to cover their ears as they ran away. Others resorted to attacking them on sight in their terror. And some pondered the pretty coins the sirens' glimmering scales could earn them. Adagio, Sonata, and Aria were forced to go into hiding, afraid to even appear in broad daylight less they be threatened or hunted.

The sisters were left humiliated. To have their own voices slandered and rejected was a wounding insult that cut them deeper than anypony could ever understand. With their chances of escaping their isolation dashed, even Adagio was left sickened and whole-heartedly devastated. Sonata angrily questioned how anyone could hate them when all they had done was sing the best songs ponykind would ever hear. It was what they did. It was who they were....right? Aria snarled that they were the worst kind of hypocrite. Glorifying the unity of their own people, then sneering at their attempts to live amongst them? Because their gifts were different and undeserving of their respect? How was that fair? And for the first time, the three sisters were all of the same mind as resentment and animosity took over their thoughts.

Sure, they could have retreated back to the desolate seas and their ruined home. But where was the satisfaction in that? With newfound purpose, Adagio, Sonata, and Aria handled their vengeful hearts as best as three hurt, bitter children could: first, revenge was to be sought. Adagio recalled the stories of newfound peace within Equestria, as well as the negative energy still swirling within their gems. A perfect idea developed within the leader's calculating mind. It started with locating and lingering near both the dragons of the Dragon Lands and the griffons of Griffonstone. Aggressive and distrustful creatures by nature, just as she had overheard, they were a breeding ground for negative energy. Siphoning the energy unnoticed was a challenge, but a worthwhile one as they harnessed just enough for their plan. Next? Turn ponykind against one another

Knowing the strength that came from companionship, the very thing ponykind had refused them, Adagio felt it was only poetic justice to destroy the peace such arrogant creatures had so proudly bragged about. And it worked. Twisting their charm from a spell of compliance to one of bitterness and spite had been effortless when those very emotions were churning within the sisters.

Having never explored the depths of their abilities before, it was surprising, to say the least. A single charm on a town created a constant feedback of negative energy for their magic reserves. Within mere hours, the effect and range of their voices had nearly doubled what it was. Jumping from town to town, creating and absorbing disharmony where they went, the siren's voices only grew stronger. Their notes reached further. And further. And further still. To think the extent of their kind's power was far greater than anything the sisters could have ever imagined. What they were discovering was a potential never before reached by any siren before them. The surge of their growing power was so new, and the sheer child's play of it all exhilarated the three. So why stop? Just how powerful could they get with every new town they conquered?

Adagio realized at the rate they were going, all of Equestria could become their stage. It could become their farmland, with ponykind as their mindless, adoring cattle that they could siphon all the energy they needed to maintain their power and control. They honestly had it coming. If they weren't willing to bask in the magnificence of their voices, then they might as well feed their voices instead. And with their newfound resources, in time...they could attempt to restore their beloved Anthemosa. Power. Respect. Recognition. Rebuilding their beautiful home. This was fair restitution for all of the unjust pain inflicted upon them since the Cataclysm.

Adagio's goals all became short-lived when an attack on one particular village lead to their downfall. As history recalls, the young unicorn Stygian had managed to escape the sirens' control over his village. To save his fellow villagers, the colt gathered the heroes of ancient Equestria, lead by the legendary wizard Starswirl the Bearded. And ignoring Stygian's suggestion that the sirens could be reasoned with, the Pillars of Old Equestria followed Starswirl's plan and worked together to engage the sirens. Starswirl believed that using his magic to banish them to a world without magic was the only possible solution against such a treacherous threat. Little did he know that his theory would only come to endanger another universe's inhabitants. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Rise and Fall of the Dazzlings

Starswirl's magic did not only transfer Adagio, Sonata, and Aria to the universe of humankind. The sisters were transported across time, nearly 900 years into the future. Finding themselves in a world without magic, a world of civilizations and advancements beyond their understanding, the sirens were dumbfounded. They were forced into forms completely unfamiliar to them, small and uncomfortable and worst of all, vulnerable. How were they supposed to protect themselves with barely visible fangs and without their powerful hooves? The only relief they had in their dismaying situation were their three gems, separate from their bodies but intact. It was uncertain just how much of their natural magic had been transferred to their jewels in order to function, but at the very least, Adagio could sense that magic still resided within.

In the following near-century of their lives, the sirens continued to draw in as much negative energy as humanly possible. To get by, their voices had to be strong enough to control others into providing what they needed, whether it be shelter, food, or other necessities and comforts. As a result, Adagio grew crueler, more hardened, and mastered the art of manipulation with her sisters closely following her lead. The sirens quietly sowed seeds of conflict where they could, but there was only so much power they could retrieve when the energy in the human world differed significantly from Equestria's. And who else to blame but the pathetic, insignificant lives of the world's magicless inhabitants.

The rate of drawing in and expending energy left the sisters with just enough magic for their charms to affect a small radius of people for a given period of time. Their magic won them enough favor to gain their basic comforts, but with frequently depleting reserves of magic, they experienced far too many close calls with having their spells break. The moment anyone seemed to catch on to their act, the three would flee town, jumping from one area to the next. Through the years they even had to keep track of the human world's development with music, altering their songs as necessary as not to arouse suspicion from potential prey. Living in the shadows day by day, unnoticed and unappreciated by those around them, there was little hope for their miserable circumstances...until one fateful day when Equestrian magic appeared in Canterlot City.

Knowing full well that targeting Equestrian magic would restore their full power, once more Adagio's mind sparked with excitement and ambition. Understanding the magic's origin or why seven teenage girls possessed its essence didn't even matter at that moment. Once they had all the magic they needed, no longer would they have to bend to the laws of the world. The world would bend to them. They'd live comfortably, freely, and no longer in hiding. Once again their music would reach far and they would be adored for the powerful beings they really were. Never ignored, nor rejected. The world would know their names again. Better yet, with no hope of returning to Equestria, they could simply shape the world itself into the home they wanted. They'd rid it of its broken, suppressive systems and live as they saw fit. Their suffering and patience would finally be rewarded.

But it was not to be. The alumni of Canterlot High remember the tale of Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer, and their friends rising up to defeat "The Dazzlings", ending their plans forever with the destruction of their magical gems. As far as they understand, the sirens became "harmless teenaged girls" in the aftermath, never to be seen again. Yet no one knows of the fate of the Dazzlings, or how those great heroes had ruined them.

In their hurry to escape in their defeat, only Adagio had been able to retrieve the shattered remains of her gem. Adagio, Sonata, and Aria lost everything the moment their ability to use magic had been ripped away. Whatever sway they had that granted them temporary shelter, whatever influence that helped keep them fed each day, and the pride of their beautiful singing voices that made them who they were? All gone in but a single night. Homeless and left to fend for themselves in a world they never belonged in, the earth-shattering reality was near numbing for Adagio. For the first time, she was lost. All hope was lost. Unable to sing, they weren't even sirens anymore. She would have been willing to lose anything else. Anything but the remainder of their identities. They had been reduced to nothing, all under her watch and lead.

Aria and Sonata anxiously turned to Adagio for some hope, some sign that they would figure things out as they always did. Because even if their older sister could be harsh and bossy, Adagio always had a plan. She always kept things together and she would always make things work out one way or another. Instead, there were no confident decisions. No snarky quips or half-hearted insults. Adagio moved about aimlessly, aloof and apathetic. It was like her very will had been shattered along with the gem shards she still held close. Her sisters tried to snap her out of it; Sonata listing off her worried questions, Aria tensely yelling anything that could to get a reaction out of her. Adagio remained despondent. And for the first time, while Adagio stayed fixated on her broken gem, Sonata and Aria were forced to act on their own.

Aria hunted down abandoned areas they could use for shelter. Sonata worked on finding or winning over food, which she took far more seriously than Aria would ever expect. Watching her sisters fumble about eventually drew Adagio out of her grief-filled daze. The first time their older sister abruptly left them behind without a word, Aria and Sonata sincerely questioned if Adagio had outright abandoned them. Thankfully Adagio had simply decided to pull her own weight, adding her own provisions to their stockpile. While Adagio had returned to giving curt instructions for their survival, she began heading off alone on her own excursions, unannounced and without any explanations on her plans.  Even when questioned, there was very little Adagio was willing to share when it came to what was going through her headspace. And with how little Adagio was speaking in the first place, there was no telling if she was really as 'okay' as she acted.

Due to sheer luck or mercy, and though it took time, Adagio was able to find a means of piecing her broken gem back together. While its power proved weaker than what it once was, it still possessed enough magical essence to draw in negativity and channel spells. There was an immense wave of relief in recovering her singing voice, and in the following years, Adagio swore to never take it for granted. With hard work and the help of a spell or three, Adagio swallowed her pride and was able to land a job at a company. She aggressively worked (and charmed) her way up through the ranks until she became a corporate executive. While she found her work to be exhausting and suffocating, it was the one position that provided her any kind of seat of power in her life. Not only did it pay well, but it allowed her to intimidate her underlings and collect their negativity gradually.

Adagio insisted on being the financial supporter of the family, as long as her sisters continued to provide in their own way. With the amount of free time on her hands, Aria developed an interest in books and eventually found a job at a library. While her favorite part of her work is the peace and silence away from home, she also takes pleasure in telling others to shut up whenever they get too noisy. Sonata...went from job to job without anything really sticking, to put it lightly. So Adagio tasked her with at least keeping their condominium organized and throwing together dinner as long as her recipe didn't risk setting the building on fire. Although there were a few near-incidents, Sonata (somehow) managed.

And as the years went by, that's when Adagio realized...they were aging. For decades the three sirens, with their long life spans, had not once experienced any change to their appearance. But now, the signs of growth, of age lines, were beginning to show. One way or another, their very gems had possessed the magic that had given them their expansive life spans. Perhaps that was always the case. Or perhaps it happened the moment they were physically separated from their jewels. But with their gems shattered, or cracked in Adagio's case, the sirens now faced newfound mortality, a regulated lifespan equal to that of a human's. And in this realization, more horrific thoughts followed.

Adagio, Sonata, and Aria would be forgotten with time, as three average humans who lived simple, meaningless human lives. They'd disappear with little trace of who they truly were. And the siren name would die with them. Their people never existed in this world. The sirens no longer exist in Equestria, either. Their kind's legacy would be left to collect dust, if not erased from history entirely. Adagio realized then that she hadn't just failed her sisters in leading them. She had failed every siren that had come before her, who once thought she'd lead the sirens to a greater future. And that was something her broken pride could not stand for.

In Sonata's and Aria's eyes, Adagio's spontaneous decision to have a child was abrupt and mind-boggling. Adagio - who loathed humans and being "human" more than anyone - was now prepared to have a child with one. Well, sort of. The only tidbit of information Adagio willingly gave them was her plan for artificial conception. Which okay, made far more sense. But even then, they couldn't even begin to understand what had brought on the choice. And Adagio, still intent on keeping her thoughts and weak emotions to herself, decided to keep it that way.

Thus lead to the creation of Forte Fermata, Adagio's half-human, half-siren daughter, and the first small spark of hope Adagio never knew she needed in her life. Adagio left Sonata and Aria to act as Forte's caretakers whenever she became busy with work. It took no time for Sonata to also fall in love with Forte, eager to play with what felt like a new baby sister. Meanwhile, Aria still needed time to really process the fact that Adagio wanted and had a kid, but once they were through Forte's crying-and-diaper-changing years, she decided Forte wasn't all that bad. Better than Adagio's snide attitude and Sonata's stupidity, at least. The sirens are an odd family of tired souls, and maybe not the best at being loving and kind to one another. But they are loyal to each other, and they do their best to make the most of the time they have left.

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EXTRA

While Adagio remains reserved and strict around her sisters, unwilling to show them her weakness again, only Forte has possessed the power to pull down her mother's walls and reveal her true exhaustion and vulnerability. She is the focus of every bit of Adagio's pride and adoration, and in the older siren's eyes, she is everything Adagio is and more.

Adagio, Aria, and Sonata do deeply care about one another. It's why they've stuck together through everything and why no amount of frustration or exasperation has led them to even consider leaving the other two behind. But harsh conditions through the years, along with their pride, made it difficult for them to know just how to express that care. That especially became the case once they lost their ability to sing together and share that special connection as sirens. Secretly, Adagio has reflected on this, silently questioning why Aria and Sonata still follow her after everything she's lead them through. Multiple times she's imagined a day where they'll decide they're better off on their own and will leave. It's a day she's mentally prepared herself for through the years and has contributed to her aloofness. Aria at least manages to catch onto her older sister's thoughts and quells them in her typical indirect, stubborn way.

Aria may step out of line at times to challenge Adagio's leadership and act like she thinks her sister's ideas are dumb. But really, that jealousy she harbored for Adagio when they were kids never quite went away. In reality, if she can't be considered a leader like Adagio (not that Adagio would give her a chance to try), a part of her wants Adagio to at least respect her as a voice worth hearing. She only really makes fun of Adagio when she wants some form of acknowledgment as Adagio's right-hand-woman, consistently one step behind her sister and quick to follow her lead. But she knows Adagio is too full of herself to give her that level of recognition. It's the one thing she truly hates about the older siren.

Sonata may not the brightest, but on rare occasions, she can come up with something genuinely helpful. Such moments honestly impress Adagio and Aria, an example being the cute little crochet pouch necklace she threw together for Forte to freely carry her gem in.

Since the siren sisters were far away from Equestria during the clash of the three pony tribes, they had missed seeing the lost, restless spirits of their siren sisters, mindlessly drawn in by the negativity that once empowered them and continued to do so in death. Equestrian history remembers them as the dreaded Wendigos, now asleep during Equestria's relative era of peace.

______________________________________________________

TLDR: Local homeless and rejected teenaged orphans get their revenge and then try to take over the world twice, only to fail without a speck of closure in sight. This took me so long to write out...this was a case of knowing exactly what I wanted to write, but the words refused to come together the way I needed them to. OTL But I'm soso happy to reveal this story, as well as some pretty big puzzle pieces of Destinyverse lore!! Hope you enjoy. <3 These siren designs of the Dazzlings are based on the designs shown on the "My Little Pony: Legends of Magic" Issue 7 cover! Like dude, they're really pretty...!!

[its-freakinbats]

heaven don’t have a name—q.b.

Requested by fandomizedtrash

A/N—I lost the actual ask because I am a clown, but the general idea was Quentin Beck attempting to seduce a (reader) SHIELD agent to further win the masses over in his attempt to become the world's greatest superhero. What happens when he starts to fall for her himself? (as far as a sociopath like him can fall, that is). I tried not to woobify him too much, (I mean he DID hold a gun to a sixteen year olds head and tried killing like three other minors, along with Fury and Hill, but the man’s a five course meal, so fan fiction I shall write).

Also, I am aware that I may have screwed up by making the air elemental first, as opposed to being the second one that attacks. That being said, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I had way too much fun with this one, friends and foes.

(I used a Jeremy Renner song title for this, what about it)

The energetic music blaring through the bar seemed to add to the uneasiness you felt as you lamented upon the past one more time.

The Avengers were effectively dead, and you still didn’t know what to do with that knowledge.

It had been just over a year since the Avengers had battled Thanos one last time and over a year since your life had drastically changed once again.

You weren’t too sure where your life had gone in the following months as you helped to rebuild the world from the ashes.

Or where it was headed, for that matter.

Despite the pretty words that had been said for your fallen teammates so long ago, it was still so difficult to grow accustomed to a world without them.

Steve, who you had grown to love as a sibling, had given up his life in this time to return to the world that had been taken from him. Last you heard, he was in Brooklyn now, living out his final days in silence. It had seemed he’d gotten the quiet life he’d always desired, something you envied.

Tony, whose heart and mind always competed for mastery over him, had led the final hurrah against Thanos with an act as simple as snapping his fingers. Tony, who had brought the world into the future more than once, just as his father before had done.

And then...Natasha.

Nat, who shouldered the responsibility of keeping the world together in it’s darkest time had given her soul itself, or so Clint had said. Nat, who you’d followed around like a happy pup in your first years at SHIELD, and who had taught you more about being apart of SHIELD than anyone else had. Nat, who you stayed up with most nights to try and fix every single problem during those five years, solved the biggest one by giving her life.

Even a year later, you still couldn’t move on and find purpose in the way that others had.

Thor was offworld with Rocket Raccoon’s crew after shirking his responsibilities as King. Last you heard, Brunnhilde was running the new Asgard like a well oiled machine.

T’Challa, who resumed carrying the same responsibility, was equally busy with restoring Wakanda to the power house that it had been revealed to be. Maybe give earth another long leap into the future, just as Tony had done.

Judging by the cryptic message that Sam and Bucky had left behind several months ago, they had decided to take it upon themselves to bring certain people to justice. An unrelated story a month later had informed you that Helmut Zemo had been declared missing from the Joint Counter Terrorist Center.

Clint and Scott were off with their respective families, each reveling in the retirement that they had sought for so long.

Rhodey followed in retirement, but still interfered as much as he could with what remained of Stark Industries. You thought you’d seen him flying around Manhattan once or twice, too.

Wanda had insisted on hiding out in the meantime, taking up teaching while she did so. You thought it suited her.

Even Carol, who was busy watching after the stars, hadn’t been heard from in months.

You wondered how Fury felt about that.

You couldn’t even begin to think about which dimension Doctor Strange was in at that moment; was he rebuilding elsewhere, too?

While you’d once been part of a team to keep the peace on earth, you were now following Fury and Hill in their attempts at making the world safer, as if there had been any threats in the fourteen months that had passed.

To say you didn’t feel needed anymore was an understatement.

Your finger ran around the rim of the glass as you recalled what had been your breaking point.

You had thought that sharing a celebratory bottle of bourbon with Rhodey had been much warranted, yet it resulted in you divulging your insecurities about the uncertain future. He was more than understanding, and you’d nearly cried when he’d spoken next.

“You’ve spent a year trying to go back to normal. We don’t even know what normal is anymore. Why don’t you try living in the new world?”

Fury, meanwhile, had other plans for you.

He’d stopped you on your way to the airport ticket counter in the middle of the night just shy of a week ago.

“Looking for a little vacation time?”

“Hard to believe that you’re not after everything that’s happened,” you had said. He had crossed his arms in a very Nick Fury way and replied, “Nick Fury doesn’t take vacations.”

You had laughed at that; however, when he had gifted you a mobile device and his usual no-nonsense stare, you knew that your vacation would have to be postponed. Even incognito, Fury still had the ability to frighten you.

Something about electro-magnetic pulses that Hill had noticed, and another lecture about how Earth still needed someone to look after it.

“Your team might be gone, but the idea of the Avengers isn’t. You got anything better to do?”

At risk of sounding like a petulant child, you wished it didn’t have to be you.

It wasn’t all bad, though; Morocco had quite a lot to offer.

You had briefly cursed Fury for taking away your opportunity for self-reflection, but he was right: you had nothing else to go to.

You would always be a part of SHIELD.

You’d always be an Avenger.

With that melancholic thought, you finished your second scotch of the night and slid off of the barstool.

Day two, and the energy pulses had remained stagnant.

‘So much for an otherworldly threat,’ you thought.

You shoved your hands in your pockets as you began to trail towards your hotel, not paying particular mind to the greying clouds in the sky.

It was when a gust of wind made you shiver that you stopped in your tracks.

A glance at your phone reminded you that it was due to be nearly 70 degrees that evening, with no chance of wind.

Or storms.

As you pocketed your phone, you observed the graying skies in the distance and the way the wind picked up.

A clap of thunder roared through the sky.

The uneasiness you had tried to quell with your trip to the bar reared its head once more; was Fury getting under your skin, or was there something more sinister hiding under the ground of Morocco?

Several more cracks of thunder sounded across the horizon, and you were thrown off by just how idyllic it had been just a little bit before.

Not a cloud in the sky, you had mused before entering the bar.

You pulled your hair back when the wind roared louder this time, and you happened to see a few teenagers warning each other in Arabic. Even with a very basic understanding, you gathered that they were telling each other to book it.

Your gaze shifted from the kids to the storm again, and you frowned. It couldn’t be Thor back, could it? His storms were always so much more...organized. This was unprecedented. Disorderly.

Was Fury right? Was it another extra-terrestrial attack?

You blanched at the thought of Thanos returning somehow.

Small groups of people slowly exited from the block you stood at, some of them muttering about the buzzkill weather.

Another, much larger gust of wind hit you, nearly throwing off your balance.

Your phone rang then, just as another loud crash of thunder was heard from the mass that grew in the sky.

“Energy pulse is rising. What do you see?” Fury said on the other end, as straight to the point as ever.

“Far from what the forecast predicted,” you breathed. “A massive stormcloud with the wind speed of something I’ve never encountered.” At that, you shivered as another long gust hit you.

“Marrakech isn’t known for tropical storms,” Fury pointed out. “And even if they were, they wouldn’t be giving off the kind of readings that this thing is. Keep your eyes up. I’ll do the same. If either of us see something, we alert the other ASAP, understood?” Fury concluded. You gave an affirmative before hanging up your phone. As you pocketed it, you furrowed your brow.

Why couldn’t the world go more than a year without some sort of cosmic disaster raining down on you all?

You reprimanded yourself for thinking Fury had no business sending you out this way.

He was absolutely paranoid, but he was right.

He was always right.

You gazed at the growing storm, and were taken aback by it as your eyes were able to properly register what it was. The maelstrom, if that’s even what you could call it, had arranged itself into a body. Moreover, it looked like it had a face.

You dropped your gaze long enough to observe the passers by in the area. While most of them were tucked into each other to avoid the freezing wind, you saw that a few were recording the unprecedented change in weather.

Your focus shifted to the area over which the amalgamation was hovering. You were no Clint, but you could see that people were still leisurely occupying the area.

You began jogging in the direction of the storm; you heard a few people telling you to turn away from the monster, but you ignored their cries to leave, and continued your trek.

Fortunately for you, there were very few tourists to actually escort from the area. Occasionally, you veered from you path to order people out of the area and to find a safe place, trying your best to sound calm.

As you neared the creature, the wind grew more and more violent, and you did your best to remain vigilant about the occasional sign that the wind had picked up.

You jogged from your route to approach a small group of people looking around wildly and speaking to each other frantically; one appeared to be trying to calm down a couple, and was speaking quickly in French.

“I need you to get out of here,” you said as you approached them, but half of the married couple stopped you.

“Mon fils!” the older woman cried as you approached her. ��Où est mon fils? Mes Louis?”

You quickly calmed her as best as you could, and promised you’d find her son. When she refused to move from your side, you insisted that they find the nearest shelter. The boy’s mother stood for a moment, unwilling to leave her son behind. You felt your heart ache slightly at that, but you were adamant that they leave as soon as they could.

Another older woman informed you that the boy and his friend were last seen across the shopping center, right in the eye of the storm. You masked your cynicism, and thanked them for their time. The second woman nodded, and muttered reassuring things to the boy’s mother before leading her away.

Once they began to make their way in the opposite direction, you turned and started for the storm.

The closer you got to the maelstrom, the more things were being picked up. For a while, you did a pretty good job at avoiding tree branches and the like.

In your attempt to dodge a large remnant of a window, however, you managed to leap right into the path of more debris.

You grunted as the wood knocked you right to the ground. Pain blossomed on the right side of your face, and you had to brace yourself against the road before standing back up to continue your venture.

Just under one hundred feet from where the creature was hovering, you ended up in a small, seemingly abandoned market. You heard the sound of someone swearing in French, and looked around until you found a teenager not too much younger than Peter Parker.

He was clutching his phone angrily, and sitting on the ground as he tried to make a phone call.

His wet eyes found yours, and he seemed slightly hopeful.

This had to be the missing kid.

“Louis?” you asked.

He nodded again, before growing worried.

“Ma famille?” he asked frantically.

“Sûr,” you told him calmly, as you helped him up from his spot.

“Your family took shelter nearby,” you said, silently thanking Steve for the many French lessons he’d gifted you. “If you can’t find them, then get to safety before the storm gets here.”

The kid shook his head, his eyes going wide in panic.

“My...friend, Blase. He’s stuck,” the boy said.

Before you could ask him where the other kid was, Louis began to jump over debris to lead you to where the other boy was. In a nearby parking lot, you saw a boy around the same age laying on the ground. He groaned in pain as he gripped his thigh.

True to Louis’ word, you saw that the other boy was struggling underneath of the remnants of a roof. You kept your cool as you approached him, and you prayed to whoever was up there that the kid wouldn’t lose his leg in the middle of the storm.

Louis spoke gently to his friend, assuring him that you were there to help them out.

“Blase?” you said. The boy was fearful as he looked at you.

“I’m going to get you out of here, okay?”

He nodded stiffly.

“Louis, I need you lift as much as you can from that side,” you ordered. The boy was only too happy to help. You grabbed the other end of the wreckage and lifted as much as you could. You didn’t blame Louis for running away to get help. The thing was heavy.

Once you lifted it up substantially, you peeked under to see the state of his leg.

From underneath, you saw that the boy’s leg looked crushed. You kept your face even, not wanting to scare either of them.

“Can you move from under?” you asked, and you started to feel the weight from the debris grow heavy. Blase grunted, but wiggled his way out from underneath the roof. When he was far enough away, you told Louis to let go.

The two of you dropped it, and you rushed over to check the other teen’s injury.

“There’s nothing I can do for you here. I need you two to go back. Maybe find your family along the way, but definitely get medical assistance if you can.”

As if to emphasize your point, the creature roared again. Without missing a beat, you helped Louis pick up his friend, and helped adjust his weight accordingly.

“Thank you,” Louis said, and you nodded in response.

Blase opened his mouth to speak, but said nothing. You followed him to see what had surprised him so, and couldn’t believe the sight.

A newcomer had arrived on the scene, dressed in what you could only compare to Roman armor.

It wasn’t anyone you recalled from the attack on the Avengers base last year, and you didn’t seem to recognize him from SHIELD’s radar so many years ago.

You were mesmerized as he flew around the monster, striking it often with green bolts not unlike what Wanda produced. Who was it? It wasn’t often you were missing so many different variables in an equation like this.

You felt your feet inch you closer to the attack.

You pulled the gun from your holster, and warned the kids one last time.

“Go!” you said over the shrieking of the storm. Louis glanced between the gun, the storm, and you. Without another word, he adjusted his grip on Blase, and the two began their trek around the fallen trees.

As you turned around, you could practically hear Fury in your ear telling you to book it before you were crushed like a bug under the monster.

But God were you curious.

Perhaps this is what Hill meant when she said that interfering was your downfall.

You jogged to get as close as you could without catching the attention of the creature. The more you looked at it, the more perplexed you grew. Perhaps it was an alien? If Thor was real, there wasn’t any reason that the Titans from Greek mythology couldn’t be real, right?

The stranger in the sky must have caught you staring, for when he was close enough, he called over his shoulder.

“You need to stand back. I don’t want any casualties,” he ordered from behind his helmet. Your gun was repositioned in your hand and ready to fire.

“Standing back isn’t really in my job description,” you shouted over the wind.

“Do what you like, but a gun isn’t going to do very much in a situation like this!”

He kept his gaze on you for a few moments longer, before swooping around to narrowly dodge a hit from the monster. In his departure, the creature managed to spot you on the ground below him.

You jumped over the debris that lay scattered around the area, and narrowly ducked the fist of the creature. It wailed again, and you turned around to fire a shot into it.

To your dismay, the shot did nothing but piss the creature off. You could see the flying man’s helmet turn in your direction.

In his moment wasted to watch you, the creature attacked its nearest enemy.

It knocked the man to the ground, and began to follow where he landed.

Shit.

Unsure of what else to do, you decided to get it’s attention again.

“Hey! Earth’s had more than enough weird stuff the last ten years, thanks!” you shouted at the monster, unsure if it would actually hear you. It roared in your direction, and rather than run, you shot at it a few times. You hoped that the flying man would be able to get his bearings again, and soon.

You ran away from the creature, doing your best to keep it from destroying more of the city than it already had.

You jumped over the nearest car and ducked behind it, gun still ready.

You took a few moments to catch your breath. What would your next step be? Calling Fury? You thought it a bit overkill to send in so much help when you had the green guy helping you out.

Assuming he wasn’t completed demolished from landing on the ground as hard as he did.

A nearby roar was heard again, and you cursed.

You stood up and shot one more round into the creature.

It saw you, and began lifting up some parked cars to throw in your direction.

As you ran, you were able to duck the cars, but were caught off guard when you were knocked off of your feet by the monster itself.

You weren’t sure how far you were thrown, but you had managed to land in a field.

Your back took all of the weight as you landed, and you released nothing more than a strained gasp on impact. You felt the breathe leave your body and were unable to move for a moment.

As you struggled to prop yourself up on your forearms, you saw the creature was still turned toward you.

From behind it, however, you could see that the newcomer had gotten back up. With his gaze in your direction, you felt he was trying to communicate something to you.

You crawled over a few feet, and grabbed the gun that had fallen from your grasp. You fired what very well may have been the last round in your gun, and swore as the monster advanced on you faster.

‘Anytime, green guy,’ you thought.

As if on cue, green bolts of light went through the creature’s middle. The monster turned around to attack the newcomer, but it moved too slowly. An inhuman sound came from it, and it slowly moved its hands around to catch it’s antagonist.

It was futile, however, as more of the same green light came from the man’s hands in a steady stream. You watched in wonder as the creature roared a final, deafening roar.

It collapsed into nothing, and you slid the mostly empty gun into your holster.

As you pushed yourself up, you felt a groan build in your throat. You stumbled your way across the field and into the parking lot. Fortunately for you, you were able to collapse upon a fallen palm tree.

The pain that you’d been doing your damndest to ignore took over most of your senses; you’d thought that the adrenaline had masked most of the pain in your face, but that changed when you were thrown by the typhoon-thing. You hated to think of how it would feel once the adrenal fatigue hit you.

“Son of a bitch,” you swore after you moved your jaw around.

You felt, quite honestly, like shit.

As you admired the now clear skies, you saw the mystery man’s silhouette against the setting sun, until he was before you. As he got closer, he dropped and walked your way.

“You’re bleeding,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, I noticed,” you said, resisting the urge to groan.

“Thanks for helping out,” he said then. “It was exciting to have an Avenger for backup.”

You were suddenly unsure of how he was able to see through his helmet.

“The Avengers don't exist anymore. Not in the way they used to,” you added, wiping your admittedly unsanitary sleeve at your head injury. “Or have you been living under a rock the last year?”

“Something like that,” he said with a hint of amusement. “Listen, are you okay? You seem like you’re pretty hurt. You took a pretty bad fall back there.”

“Uh, it’s...it’s nothing I haven’t felt before,” you stammered before attempting to stand up. You struggled slightly, and he offered a gloved hand to assist you. You took it, all the while suppressing a hiss.

“I know,” he replied. “If I remember correctly, you're the one who takes the most hits out of the group.”

You scoffed, and didn’t bother to hide the cynicism in your voice.

“Yeah, tell that to Tony Stark, or Natasha Romanoff. From what I hear, they got the worst of it.”

He didn’t seem to know how to respond to that, so the two of you fell into an awkward silence.

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t at risk of immediately dying. I should get going,” he said after a few moments, turning the other way. Just as he braced himself to fly, you caught his arm.

“Wait!”

He paused and turned to face you, and you let your arms drop to fall awkwardly at your sides while you spoke.

“You...I don’t know who you are.”

“Yeah, that’s probably true,” he replied.

You ignored his comment

“I mean...heroes aren’t masked symbols anymore. Heroes don’t get secret identities, not with—with governments and whatnot to monitor all of that now.”

“You’re right, they don’t. Not here, anyway,” was all he said.

You frowned, unsure of what he meant by that. Was he an alien, too? Was earth pulled into another inter-planetary dispute amongst aliens?

“So, what’s your game?” you asked, not bothering to hide your suspicion. He seemed to pick up on your tone pretty quickly.

“Look, I’m not here to join the Avengers, or get some sort of award,” he assured you after a moment. “I’m just trying to stop a threat I should have stopped sooner.”

That answered next to none of your questions.

“You know who I am. Why can’t I know who you are?” you pressed.

“That’s a long conversation. I’d prefer not to keep you out so late after all that’s happened.” There was a beat, and he spoke again.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Soleil.”

You frowned when he used your codename. No one had used it in a long time.

“Make sure to get looked at,” he reminded you, before turning away.

He flew away with a trail of forest green behind him, unknown to you and to the rest of the world.

You wondered where the guy had been this whole time. Who was he, and why was he just now emerging? Was he known to the other heroes, and you were just now catching wind of it?

As he disappeared from your line of sight, you turned your gaze back to the evening sky. As the sun set, the first few stars began emerging for the night, and you wondered just how many surprises this new world held.

The sound of a medical vehicle approaching surprised you, and you began the slow trek back to your hotel; you didn’t want to speak to anyone, not with the million questions that might be asked.

It was then that you felt another sharp sting as you breathed in.

Maybe he was right. You were hurting like a motherfucker just about everywhere.

                                                               ●

Quentin sat on his bed while the rudimentary footage of the attack played over and over again on all of the major news networks; the first elemental had been pulled off without a hitch.

Without a major one, anyway.

He thought he’d been thorough when ensuring that the Avengers were nowhere to be found. As far as he was concerned, the Avengers were practically disassembled.

At first glance, he’d hardly recognized her. He’d wondered how she’d gotten all the way over to this part of the world with no backup tagging along.

What to do with a loose end like her?

Janice had called earlier, asking if the woman should be confined to the hospital under the guise of massive internal injuries.

Then, a thought struck him with the force of a lightning bolt— how the masses did love their superhero stories, and none was more heartbreaking than his. A battle-hardened warrior who had lost everyone who meant anything to him, as well as his home, no matter how hard he had fought to keep all of that?

How the sympathy and support would grow when he became involved with one of the original Avengers, someone just as broken and lonely as he was.

Someone who was disillusioned, and needed someone like him to give her hope.

“Keep an eye on her, actually,” he had said. “Let me know when she’s discharged, and try to find out where she’s staying,” he requested of his co-worker. “We could use someone like her.”

Then, he’d pondered just how he’d get her on his side. What did he know about her?

He knew she was the youngest to join, and did so during the Chitauri attack in 2012. He knew she had an affinity for blasters, something he noticed she was missing that evening. He also knew that she was one of the few original team members left.

The footage on the television continued to play, and he looked away briefly to answer a call from another coworker.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sending you the files you requested, and then some. Let me know if you need additional information,” Victoria said. Quentin pulled away to quickly scan his incoming mail.

The more he saw, the more he smiled.

“This should be plenty. Thanks,” he said appreciatively before hanging up.

He opened the first file, one that had been leaked when SHIELD was under fire back in 2014. He settled into the armchair as he started reading.

He had thought that maybe he’d have to add another casualty to his list, but the more he thought of the alternative, the more his smile twisted.

How poetic it was that it would be one of the Avengers who would ensure his acclaim with the rest of the world.

[hypexion]

A Pile of Fanwalkers (Part 1)

The setting of Magic: The Gathering is one where you can create as many fun fan characters as you want and it’s feasible that they’d never interact with canon characters. So here’s a bunch of them, escaping from my imagination into this post. There is probably a better way to deliver this information, but efficacy is overrated. But there’s no better time, because it’s “Fan Character February“.

The basic format for each planeswalker will be a Name/Colour Identity/Pre-Ignition Typeline/Homeplane blob of information, a quickish description of them and some “fun“ facts, and then some hits and misses for extra flavour. Also, I’m going to split this into three posts - “Heroic“, “Okay“ and “Villians“, for I believe I have the moral authority to judge my creations.

Also some of these are going to be from fanplanes, which will go undescribed beyond whatever tidbits come out the character flavour. Others will just have a ?, representing a lack of knowledge and/or sufficent worldbuilding. With that out of the way, let’s go!

Heroic

Using a somewhat loose definition of heroic, these are the planeswalkers that when presented with an injustice, will at least attempt to help. Even if it’s against their better judgement.

Alagard - UR, Human Artificer, Orpheri - As a self styled “Mirror Magus“, Alagard has turned his skill for magical analysis into a method of acquiring knowledge that others would consider out of reach. From simple cantrips, to complex feats of sorcery, there’s no spell Alagard won’t try to copy or take apart at least once. When he’s not commiting “theft of intellectual property“, as the Azorius call it, he might actually be doing his job as an Artificer, constructing various tools used to navigate between the realms of Orpheri. Or he might have found himself in a situation that requires some kind of outside intervention and impulsively intervened. It keeps happening, and once you’ve committed, you’ve got to see the problem through, right?

Alagard has white skin and short blonde hair. When working, he wears the traditional artifacer get-up - protective robes, gloves and safety accessories. Otherwise, he prefers a slightly more elaborate outfit, including a fancy blue long coat with a few too many silver frills. He also carries a Mirrorblade, an enchanted weapon capable of shifting into a multitude of other weapons. It’s pretty handy. When Alagard planeswalks, he seems to shimmer away, flaking off small, short-lived pieces of reflective material.

Hits: Finding new magic, solving problems, fancy coats. Misses: The Queen of Fate interfering with his life, mortal peril.

Heru - URW, Bird Warrior, Amonkhet - As you might guess from his homeplane, pre-ignition life for Heru could have been better. This falcon-aven always had a keen eye for detail, a talent for seeing through deception, and a tad more curiosity than was perhaps safe on Amonkhet. However, even with his growing doubt, he followed the path laid out for him by the gods. When the time came, he passed the Trials of Solidarity, Knowledge and Strength. Many from his crop did not. He might even have passed Zeal, if not for Bontu, the worse of the gods. The pointless brutality of the Trial of Ambition brought Heru’s crisis of faith to it’s peak, a thousand quiet doubts awoken by the senseless slaughter. For many, such a crisis had lead to a quick death. But Heru had a Spark, and it carried him far from Amonkhet. Now, inspired by some owl-aven he met after his first planeswalk, he seeks wisdom from across the multiverse, and wishes to create a better tomorrow.

Heru has light brown skin and brown feathers. Despite leaving his home in a less than pleasant way, he still wears the warrior’s clothing of those who take the trials. However, as he visits more planes and encounters new cultures, he has started to replace the gilded symbology of the God-Pharaoh with simpler patterns he finds appealing. Heru weilds a spear as his weapon of choice, and has recently discovered a talent for pyromancy, although he is hesitant to use it. Heru’s planeswalking effect is burst of golden flame, which occasionally leaves behind a few feathers.

Hits: Philosophy, a target from up to 100 meters, Nicol Bolas’ death, the absolute certainty that Bolas is dead, the lack of possibility that Bolas could return in any way, shape, or form. Misses: Bontu, the false God-Pharaoh knows as Nicol Bolas, large bodies of water, his own attempts at self-delusion regarding what he saw on Ravnica.

Locke - WU, Human Advisor, Noyir - Crime is a problem on many planes, and Noyir is no exception. In fact, it’s starting to get a little dire. Demons run the mob, the proliferation of magical weapons is out of control, and the serial killers seem to be especially nasty. Enter one Sebastian Locke, who has the tremendously useful ability of post-cognition, which allows him to view the recent past of places and objects. Armed with this, and a grab-bag of forensics magic, Locke is ready to take on any case, and won’t rest until the truth is discovered. He’s tangled with the Infinite Consortium, the Ozhov Syndicate, and many other sinisterly name organisations, along with a number of the multiverse’s most dangerous killers. He’s also convinced that Dack Fayden isn’t dead, but I suppose you can’t be always right all the time. (Or he knows something the rest of us don’t. Dack was in deep with the Ozhov, after all...)

Locke has black skin and black hair. He has the look of the classic detective, including the whole trench coat and fedora outfit. Since Locke is actually a detective, and visits a tailor, he looks pretty good in the whole get-up. While he keeps to the traditional drab colours on his homeplane, Locke has a rainbow’s worth of alternate outfits, for when he needs to fit in on another plane. Locke also carries a weapon that is certainly not a handgun, because it uses magic. (He’s from the gritty crime drama plane. It’s a gun.) When planewalking, Locke disappears into a swirl of grey fog, which quickly dissippates. Notably, this action takes him less than a second, making it an effective escape tactic.

Hits: Outwitting criminals, unravelling conspiracies, coffee, due process, elaborate crime boards. Misses: Serial killers, assassins, murderers and blackmailers, police corruption (of both the “taking bribes” and “magically becoming a demon” kinds).

Loxy - RW, Elephant Warrior, ? - Needless to say, Loxy’s name isn’t actually Loxy. It’s short for something. But when she points out that humans can be called Hugh, are you going to argue with the Loxodon who’s likely bigger than you, and carrying a war mace? Probably not. Of course, Loxy probably won’t smack your head clean off, provided you’re not some sort of evil-doer. She’s actually pretty nice, if a little over-enthusiastic some of the time, once you get to know her. Loxy is on a crusade against injustice, to right the wrongs of the multiverse and ensure worlds where the peaceful can live in peace. Many cruel and vile beings have met their end at Loxy’s hand, and I won’t mince words: all of them deserved it. Others have decided that reform is the greater part of not getting crushed by a Loxodon, and gone on to be nicer people.

Loxy has grey skin, because she’s a Loxodon, and whatever kind of hair Loxodon have. Loxy can generally be found wearing her armor, which she keeps polished and clean, in order to make a good first impression. As mentioned before, her primary weapon is a mace, but when you’re an almost eight foot tall elephant-person with foot long tusks, you never need to rely on a primary weapon. When not dressed up for battle, Loxy prefers to wear simple robes, just in case a fight breaks out. Somewhat surprisingly, Loxy’s planewalking aura is fairly subtle. She glows for a moment, before disappearing, leaving behind small balls of light.

Hits: Justice, stopping evil, can-do attitudes, the general concept of the Gatewatch. Misses: Injustice, the unrepentant, those who accept an unjust world as “natural“ and so refuse to seek improvement.

Velos - GU, Elf Shapeshifter Wizard, Ravnica - Have you ever head the story of Velos the wise? No? I thought not. It’s not a story the Conclave would tell you - he’s a Simic Legend. Velos has the power to manipulate biomancy to take on any form he wishes, even ones that are “decidedly male”. His ultimate goal was to be able to mantain a form indefinitely, which eventually, he achieved. Now Velos mentors promising biomancers in the ways of shapeshifting. He’s also taken up cataloguing some of the multiverse’s most adaptive species, which rather worryingly includes Slivers. Additionally, he has also pioneered several shapeshifting based treatments, to help those who need their bodies reworked. Velos is, at heart, a healer, and will offer help to anyone he encounters who may need it. He believes that everyone should be able to live their lives in good health, in the form that they find best fits them. On occation, this has brought him into conflict with some Simic factions, especially those who ignore the rather important factor of “informed consent.“

Velos’ prefered form is that of an elf, with pale skin and equally pale blonde hair. Many have noted that this gives him a strong resemblance to the elves of the Selesnya Conclave, although few really care. Those attempting to investigate his background do not get far, as the Combine wishes to focus on the future, and the Conclave would never admit that someone may have left them. Velos does not carry weapons, preferring to save carrying capacity for a portable laboratory, since he can’t take samples back to Ravnica from other planes. He also doesn’t really need any, since he’s long since mastered the art of transforming himself claws, spines, chitinous plating and other offensive and defensive body parts. While he hasn’t reached the fluidity of a naturally born shapeshifter yet, Velos is still capable of rearranging himself to multitude of forms, with very little delay. When planeswalking, he disappears into double-helix of blue-green light.

Hits: Discovering new species, the endless convience of your hand being a multi-tool, trans rights, a kind of tea that only grows on Kamigawa. Misses: Not being able to grow that tea on Ravnica, the concept of a “true form“, walking into things because he shapeshifted in a weird way.

Look at all these nice people. All of them would probably be into Gatewatching except maybe Velos. He’s more into providing medical care, as opposed to the Gatewatch’s more active form of heroism. Next up will be people who are still ‘nice‘, but in a generally more passive or distracted way.

[made-me-deep-blue]

helena x mc - coming home

Story: Love & Legends

Pairing: Helena Klein x MC

Word count: 1704

-

Though a magnificent sight to behold, but everything around her wasn’t.

Life was stripped away from the living things around her, save for the retainers, myself, and all the allies around us, channeling all those energy into her newly founded body. I always wondered how powerful she was, under all of that vulnerability. How a slight push could trigger the world’s end.

Now, I’m seeing that for myself.

The sun, which used to shine its warm rays on us, was now bleeded with midnight black. Obsidian flame tendrils coiled around my fiancee’s arms as she directed her hardened gaze towards her former mistress. The one who brought upon chaos and misguided upbringing to her life.

“More! Why don’t you come at me with what you have, little light!” The Witch Queen cackled with delight.

I could feel Altea tugging at my arm. “Come on, Iryn! We have to take cover before she decides to tear you apart as well!”

I’d known better than to leave Helena behind with the Witch Queen like this, but the love of my life turned her head around and gave me that oh-so-beautiful loving smile. That was my Helena Klein. She is still my Helena Klein.

“Komm zurück zu mir, mein Schatz,” I gave it my best shot in her native tongue.

That air so strong with energy dissolved for a short while, before Helena huffed, a smirk tugging at the edge of her lips.

“Keine Zusagen,” she replied.

I gave in to Altea’s hold, letting her take me into the skies, as far as she could bring me and the others away from the main event at the docks.

I prayed silently under my breath, hoping that the woman that I will be married to for eternity will be coming back home.

Coming back home to me.

-

“How’s the battle going?” Reiner muttered, his arms crossed over his armoured chest.

Queen Ishara delicately got down on one knee, pressing her palm into the earth, glowing in a soft green light in response to the elven queen’s magic. Her eyes glowed as well, but her strained expression spoke the truth of her current state. She might be thousands of years older than all of us, but magic has its limits as well.

“The Witch Queen is at her final stages of her limits,” Ishara said, recovering from her position. “She won’t be able to hold on any longer, not with Helena still thrumming with such dark energy from within.”

I silently prayed that Helena hasn’t succumbed to the darkness, yet.

“She’ll be alright,” a small answer from Saerys made me jump slightly. “Although she might be the one who contributed to my people’s extermination, but judging the relationship between you two, she’ll be alright.”

“I agree with Saerys, my friend,” Iseul hopped onto his feet, slinging his arm around my shoulder. “Knowing that that blonde beauty holds a formidable power and knows who to come back to once all of this is over, she’ll be back.”

I hope so.

Just then, Altea swooped into the cave, landing on her heels with a slight screech in her tracks. Breathlessly, she looked at me and said, “You might need to come with me, and see this for yourself.”

I thought that I could finally have my fiancee back, not until I saw the scene that braced my eyeview.

The Witch Queen’s body was crumpled against the ground, the earth shattered beneath her lithe form. Helena stood- no floated - above her, black lightning that pulsed in a dark purple light, forming in her raised fist. Sickly red veins were formed at the corner of her eyes and spreaded across her temple and down along her cheekbones.

“What...What are you?” The fallen queen shakily rasped.

Helena scoffed, her arm jerked as she summoned more lightning, no doubt to finish the cause of destruction, once and for all.

“I...am a nightmare.”

The screams that followed next were peeling my ears, as bolts after bolts of lightning struck onto the Witch Queen. Funny that that was how I got into this universe, and found myself attracted to Helena. Seeing myself in that Witch Queen was definitely not fun at all. I could feel Altea’s hand brush against my shoulder in silent comfort.

It was going way too far for me.

I only wanted her dead, and not for her to get blown up by how I got here.

“HELENA, STOP!”

Despite the warning that was sounded behind me, I lunged for Helena’s waist, wrapping my arms tightly around my body, as I grunted under the mighty power of her lightning. I smiled sadly, watching my skin starting to show the red beneath.

“You’re not a nightmare, Helena,” I whispered against her embrace. “You’re my Helena Klein. Come home to me. Come back to me, please?”

Spots of black threatened to fill my vision as my body cried out in pain, unable to withstand the voltage any longer.

“I love you, Helena Klein. And I will marry you, I swear to the heavens.”

The lightning dissolves around us, as the both of us collapsed on our knees. When I made my attempt to lift my head to see the love of my life, a weak hand cradled my jaw instead, bringing to see my future wife.

“I-Iryn? Are you with me?”

I smiled. “Yes, I am. I forever will.”

I succumbed to the darkness, not knowing when I will ever wake up.

-

I was wondered how I would die when I was back in Chicago.

Dealing with work, paying my apartment bills...I sometimes wanted to be away from everything. Now that I think about Chicago, I started to tear up, thinking about the people that I have left behind...including Sophie.

Sophie was the only best friend and the only person I could rely on while growing up there. I had no family or next of kin due to my origins and where I came from. She helped me become who I am, and I just couldn’t bear seeing her expression when I got struck by that lightning during that freak storm.

I didn’t know where I was.

There was a sky washed with cool toned colours of the galaxy, along with stars, pulsing like little heartbeats everywhere.

It was a sight for sore eyes. I would kill this for my morning view in Chicago everyday.

However, it was missing something.

The familiar warmth, that powerful presence that always lingered beside me from the day I came into this world. Her striking blonde hair, her dark blue eyes, and those lips...gods above, I would be damned if I was taken already.

“Helena…” I trailed off, turning my head around slowly to observe my surroundings. She was nowhere to be seen.

Then, something called from afar. Like a murmur, calling out to me. I couldn’t hear it properly at first, but when I tried to close everything out, I could hear it loud and clear.

“Iryn, my love...come back to me, my shining star…”

She sounded lost, like a boat without the lighthouse to guide its way back to shore. Most of all, she sounded guilty for causing me to be in this state. I ultimately don’t blame her at all, because she was swayed by emotions, and her resentfulness towards the Witch Queen. She didn’t know when to stop.

“I...am a nightmare.”

I wish I could tell her that she wasn’t.

If I could just reach out to her…

I reached my hand towards her voice, and let the blinding light wash me away. Hopefully, back into her arms.

And yes, I did.

-

“Your Majesty! She has awoken!”

I hear a muffled shout as I slowly roused from my sleep, wincing in pain as I took in my surroundings when the blurriness was starting to clear.

My body was being cradled in Helena’s strong, perfectly muscled arms, my face against the crook of her neck. I inhaled the scent, taking her in all over again. She smelled like winter and pine, just like her birthday. A fresh winter morning out at the frozen lake. The elven queen was briskly making her way towards us, a look of relief washing over her facial features.

Now that I’m seeing her up close, she still looked very young. Although old in age, she’s older and wiser, reminding me of Elder Lightwing.

“Thank the heavens, you’re alright,” Ishara breathed. “You had lost your heartbeat for the moment, but because of Helena’s dark magic that flowed into you, she has brought you back.”

She looked solemn for a bit, but swallowed it in and maintained that look of professionalism that I think August himself can’t even make do with.

“But it does come with complications.”

Helena’s throat bobbed. “I’m listening.”

“As she is human until we further investigate on her true identity after that revelation in her home world, the dark magic might do slight damages to her body although it is the reason that brought her back,” Ishara explained. Helena only stared ahead at the elven queen.

“Since I will be busy with repairing the damage done to the elven domain, I will need you to constantly keep an eye on her and use your light magic to keep her from corrupting until I am free off duties to give her proper healing sessions, am I understood?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Lullay moon princess, goodnight sister mine

Helena’s gaze lingered on the doorway as the doors closed with a soft click, the elven queen making her way out.

I watched as there was a mix of emotions in response to what Queen Ishara had just announced about my condition.

Helena looked like she regretted channeling her forbidden magic into my body to bring me back to life. But at the same time, she also looked like she didn’t regret it either.

“Are you...alright?” I asked, gently sliding my fingertips across her cheek.

And rest now in moonlight’s embrace

She smiled sadly in return, kissing the top of my forehead.

“As long as you are, I will, forever be.”

Bear up my lullaby, winds of the earth

Through cloud, and through sky, and through space

[sparda3g]

Kimetsu no Yaiba Chapter 177 Review

The battle has ended, but Kokushibo’s story has not. He is perhaps the last remain of the past generation; now fading to the afterlife. Before he goes out, the backstory begins to unfold, revealing the life and downfall of the Moon Breather. It all started with the Sun Breather.

This chapter is all about the flashback. That’s definitely not a bad thing; however, if you’re dying to know (no pun intended) the status of the Pillars, you’ll have to wait. It’s not confirmed that Tokito and Genya are dead, though for Tokito I can’t see any way around it, so patient is key. In the meantime, the flashback will serve a sob, depressing tale of brothers that couldn’t have their own way.

We know Kokushibo envied his younger brother, Yorichi, but we don’t know when exactly that sin began to consume him. Honestly, I didn’t expect the last chapter’s closure was seguing to his entire backstory, but not only it’s welcoming, it’s warranted. Not only will we learn the depth of Kokushibo’s character but so as Yorichi’s. While the future of the series is still unknown, despite the feeling of closure is strong, this flashback will set up for what’s to come today.

Although they are twins, Yorichi was born with the Mark. It disturbed the father so heavily, he wanted the baby killed. That’s just sad. Curse or not, what kind of person would want to kill a baby? Thank the sun for the mother, for she denied him and kept the baby alive; like a true loving person. It’s only when he turns ten that he will be sent to a temple.

The idea is, Yorichi was treated like a special person; differentiate from how Kokushibo was raised. Different food, different clothing, and so on. Yorichi had cling to his mother’s left side; as if she is the only one he is treated with love and care. She did save him, so no child would ever leave their mother’s side. However, there’s a major key to that illustration, but let’s go one step at a time.

Kokushibo pitied his younger brother for how he was treated. I thought it’s sad to know he did care for him. He even went out of his way to make a flute for him. The brotherly love or bromance did exist once upon a time. It’s also sad to know how lonely Yorichi was; unable to smile or even speak, like a mute person. It’s amazing how much he will change as young adult, but saddening to see him as a child.

The seed of envy was planted when Yorichi watched him training. It was that moment where he was fascinated by his dream to become the strongest Samurai in the nation; so he too wanted to become one. Kokushibo was shocked to not only hear him speak for the first time, but so as see him smile. It’s like a blind person finally able to see in 20/20 vision; it’s a miracle. It’s a heartwarming moment, but disturbing to Kokushibo. This moment is very crucial to the following scene for it would become apparent how much life changes for the two.

He believed it was unthinkable for Yorichi to become a Samurai. This gives you an idea how he judged the book by its cover, and you know the old saying goes. He was a kid, so it’s understandable in some regards, but this is where it began to change. Yorichi takes a practice sword and goes against the instructor for fun. Kokushibo has practice for so long, he’s still unable to land a hit on the instructor. Yorichi however on his first try not only lands it, but soundly defeated him.

It’s striking to see him go at it, practically annihilated the instructor in his first try. He was only seven years old. It’s as if he’s the Broly from Dragon Ball of this series; gifted with incredible power. It becomes more apparent when Kokushibo asked him about his strength. Yorichi was already able to see the Transparent World. That’s unheard of, but according to his description, it’s most definitely the case. All this time, Kokushibo pitied him when he’s in fact not only gifted, but vastly superior. “Looks can be deceiving” is what he should have known.

This should have been an uprising hill for both, but it sadly becomes a downhill spiral. Yorichi’s smile faded away once he realized the damage and pain as a Samurai. This explains why we hardly see him happy until he spoke about the next generation. Maybe he found it again, but as of now, it appears his life was forced to live this path, based on his gift or maybe curse. It’s crushing to see him wanting to play games with his older brother, yet all they can talk about is Samurai, something he wanted to avoid.

As for Kokushibo, his downfall is much clearer in compare. He was outclassed by his younger brother by a large margin. It was then their father changed his mind about his sons’ role. Yorichi would inherit the House, while Kokushibo would be sent to a temple. In other words, the roles have been reversed.

It’s bad enough the same guy who wanted Yorichi dead now kisses him like the favorite, it is worse that Kokushibo is now treated like a second fiddle. It’s not like he was rude like a spoiled brat to warrant this kind of karma. It’s not designed for us to laugh at him, rather sympathize. The sad part is, he was raised to be a Samurai from the get-go. Because of House’s status, he can no longer be as such. Imagine being raised to be a football player, training and all, only to be declined seven years later. Your mind is fixated to live that life, but now that’s taken away, how can you adjust to something else. It’s not easy and Kokushibo got it really rough.

Perhaps the last tender bromance moment is Yorichi’s farewell. Their mother had passed away and Yorichi was departing to the temple. He stopped by to say goodbye to his brother, presenting him the flute, the same one from the past. It symbolizes how much he cherished it. Even with their shortcomings as of late, Yorichi truly loved his brother; like their mother, he saved his life. Now the tear scene back when they are much older holds so much meaning. It’s quite sad to look back.

The nail on the coffin for Kokushibo is the mother’s journal. She has been dealing with a bad illness for a long time, and her left side was suffering. That’s when he realized Yorichi was supporting her since the beginning. Once again, seeing is not believing. With Yorichi winning the father’s approval, loving and caring the mother, and being a superior Samurai in every way, Kokushibo was enraged with envies.  Looking over the chapter, I can’t really blame him.

To me, this is deemed as a sad story. Yorichi had nothing, only to be granted with everything, yet he wasn’t amused. Kokushibo had everything he thought to have, only to be discarded by reality, yet he thought he was doing well. The best way to describe him is a Shounen protagonist gone wrong. He was treated with respect, but inside, he was the underdog. He trained hard, yet Yorichi was gifted with everything. Because we know he became a demon, hard work didn’t pay off. I look forward to that moment.

I thought this was a touching chapter. It delivered the insight depth of the Sun and Moon Brothers back in their childhood. Their adulthood differs greatly from their childhood. I would have assume they lived mostly normal, but their childhood shows hardship and painful reality. Kokushibo’s envy was reasonable and sympathetic in my opinion. It would have been pitiful if he was just jealous without any circumstance such as raised as a prodigy or approved by the House before changing plans. I know I mainly summarized here, but the narration is very good. It’s wall of text, but compelling and thoughtful. The tale isn’t over, so the downfall will resume.

[batsintheshadows]

Answers at Last

Time passed, and things became normal somehow. Not normal like they were before, but a new kind of normal. A normal that involved buildings instead of trees, masses of strangers in one small school instead of a small gaggle of peers learning together, being made fun of by some of the crueller children for being “weird” in a thousand different ways, and standing up to it over and over until they wouldn’t come near him anymore. A normal that involved training with Vord in the evenings after dinner, running along the rooftops to try and get another look at the angels. Not too high. Usually. Though Fenir thought privately that once you reached a certain height there was no more danger in going higher. You were dead either way if you fell. Still, even if Vord had accepted that Fenir loved to climb, that was no reason to worry him further. Best to keep trying to reach the clouds to a minimum.

He still remembered the day the doctor had come calling at Vords request. Another elf, but with jellyfish tendrils and gills that made the bile rise in Fenir’s throat when he looked at them.

“Oh yeah!” She’d said with a smile as Vord recounted how Fenir had scared him. “I was the same way growing up. Elves tend to do that you know! Climbing contests are a great way to bond!”

And that was that.

Fenir supposed he should have been grateful that Vord hadn’t gotten one of the Selesnya healers. They might be better at what regular folk needed and willing to work for trade, but he just couldn’t bear to be around them. Their magic whispered constantly. A curse to drive his mind away. Sweet like a sneaky sort of poison, or berries eaten in the wrong season. The only choice was to get away from it as fast as possible.

He hadn’t wanted to say that it was all for nothing. That the cheerful jellyfish elf made him feel the same way. Her magic didn’t feel the same though. It stared. Measured. Poked and prodded. It was like being in a box full of eyes that was slowly filling up with water. No escape.

He’d gone totally feral again. Fenir was ashamed of it, but there it was. He’d come to behind a cabinet, shaking, sore, and exhausted to the point of passing out once more.

  After that, he’d had to explain. The jellyfish chewed some sort of sweet gum as he spoke, scribbling furious notes on how magic felt. On the eyes that came with hers and the whispering choke that came with the priests’ and the uncaring, unfeeling sickness in the mossy room. Like being an ant under a boot, careless of what it crushed.

Vord just looked worried, like always. There were so many things he worried about. Little and big. Brushed teeth and bullies. Going to school and going feral.

Fenir didn’t complain though. He felt like he should be old enough to take care of himself, but if he was being honest…he couldn’t. Not here. Nothing he knew from growing up applied here. Even the pitiful magic he’d let himself learn wouldn’t come. Though Fenir didn’t grieve for that. It had always come too easily, too destructively. It was better if he couldn’t accidentally break anyone again.

The doctor had asked to examine him again, promising it wouldn’t hurt this time, and Fenir had let her. Amazingly, she had been right. Her magic barely felt like anything at all. It was all just as clinical as anyone would expect a doctor to be.

She’d babbled about research papers and experiments, something Vord had stoutly refused in spite of her cries that this was something entirely new that had to be studied. They’d shouted rather a lot actually, but in the end Vord had won, and they walked away.

“There’s something wrong with your connection to magic.” Vord had explained during training. “So certain types of magic make you sick.”

Fenir laughed bitterly, parrying a strike just like Vord taught him last week. “Sick. That’s one way to put it.”

“It isn’t hopeless Fenir. You’ll never be able to feel truly comfortable around it, but there are ways to lessen the effects.”

So a different kind of training started. One with amulets and charms to weaken the magic. With rigorous mental training to fight back the worst of the effects. It was exhausting, and Fenir cried several times. But it had been worth it to be able to walk by the Selesnya and Simic folk on the street and not feel ill looking at them. After three years, he could just about hold a short conversation with them. And though their still magic stared and whispered poison, made him want to curl up and hide, Fenir found that he could stand his ground against it.

Still, it was best to avoid them wherever possible.

  Vord wouldn’t let Fenir come when he patrolled the street at night, insisting that he sleep instead. But when it was daylight and Fenir had spare time, Vord encouraged him. Gave advice and warnings. They covered much more ground between the two of them, working day and night. For all the times Fenir resented getting the easier job, mainly giving out supplies, he didn’t think he was ready to face some of the things Vord did, even with all the training he’d been doing.

And he was getting good, though Fenir tried not to let it go to his head. But three years worth of daily training and climbing and wandering would give anyone skill, and he wasn’t afraid to admit it. Though most of the school Vord insisted he attend was comprised of those with no plans on joining a guild, there were also a good chunk that had family in the Boros. Fenir had fallen in with them quickly, pestering them for stories and getting in enough scraps to earn a few fast friends with his spirit, much to the chagrin of his teachers. He’d kept silent about Vord’s true history though, at the man’s request. Instead he said he’d been adopted by a guildless shopkeeper, and Fenir’s friends had accepted that.

They didn’t press him on why he’d been on the streets in the first place, something Fenir was grateful for. He could barely talk about it with Vord, and he knew that Vord wouldn’t judge him. It had taken a long time to feel comfortable enough to explain waking up in another world. Fenir had sat on the edge of his seat, certain he was about to be declared mad. Instead, he had promised to research. If there was an answer to be found, Vord swore that he would find it.

“But don’t think you’re getting to skip training.” He’d said, laughing at the idea that Fenir would ever try to do such a thing.

Fenir had smiled, but not laughed with him. Thinking about coming to Ravnica bought his mind to close to his parents.

He still hadn’t told Vord what had happened to them.

“Not today at least.” He’d said, trying to shake the cold from his heart.

  They didn’t always spar. It was a bad idea with Vord’s wounded leg. But Fenir liked it when they did. It was a real test of skill. Much more to think about that practising drills on a dummy. Sensing his bad mood, Vord always seemed to know when Fenir had something on his mind, Vord picked up his practise blade and fell into his battle stance, smiling as his pupil mirrored him.

“Alright Fenir. Let’s see how you’ve been improving.”

It had become an easy rhythm for Fenir. To dodge and feint. To parry and thrust. He wasn’t as good as Vord was, but that’s why he was learning. The world narrowed as his focus turned completely to the fight. The feeling of blood singing in his veins. The fiery joy that came with every success and cold determination with every mistake.

He sidestepped neatly as Vord lunged for him, taking advantage of the opening to try the disarming move he’d been practising. But Vord had feinted. Fenir was wide open to the overhand strike Vord sent his way.

Raising his arm was an instinct, and if Fenir had been training with a shield today it would have been an excellent one. As it was, it was a lapse in discipline. Or a perfect example of it.

Whatever it was, it shouldn’t have made such a bright light. And it certainly shouldn’t have sent Vord flying across the courtyard.

Fenir blinked, black spots clouding his vision from the sudden radiance. “Vord?” He called, too afraid to get close.

Thankfully, his mentor sat up quickly. “Razia’s sword! I didn’t teach you that!”

There were still wisps of light around Fenir’s arm. Not quite in the shape of a shield, but close enough to be recognisable as one. “No. No you didn’t.”

Magic again. Different than before, but still out of control. Like the time he’d made his battle beetle too big and it had nearly killed his opponent. Or the time he tried to make a tree bear fruit and had accidentally sprouted the seeds in his own stomach from the berries he’d had for lunch.

Fenir rubbed his stomach idly at the memory of the pain, but Vord didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy smiling.

“That was an outstanding move! I didn’t realise you had such a talent for magic!”

“Nor did I.” Fenir looked at his feet, stunned to realise there were scorch marks around him. “Are you hurt?”

Vord waved his hand like he was shooing an annoying bug. “I’ve had worse.”

Well, that was something at least. At least the damage was minor this time. “Sorry about…that.”

“You’re kidding right?” Vord’s grin was as wide as his face, too excited to worry about someone seeing his fangs. “Think you can do it again?”

“Maybe?” He’d done it once after all. And it hadn’t been that bad. Powerful maybe, but not as destructive as it could have been.

Picking up on his hesitation, Vord signalled for a time out, taking a seat on the steps to the apartments. “You can tell me if something is wrong you know.”

Fenir grabbed a cup of water and drank deeply to avoid answering. Hoping that somehow Vord would figure it out so he didn’t need to say anything.

“I can’t read your mind you know Fenir. Well, I can. But I don’t want to. What’s wrong?”

“What if…” There was too much history to convey in just a few words, so Fenir settled on explaining the next best thing. His fears for the future. “What if my magic goes crazy and someone gets hurt?”

“We’ll train to make sure you don’t. I may not be an expert in magic, but from what I learned during my time in the Legion there are two parts to it.” Vord took up the practise sword, holding it out for Fenir to examine. “You didn’t learn to use this without improving your physical power, but if power was all there was to your fighting you wouldn’t be half as good as a dedicated soldier. It’s all connected. Passion and restraint. Power and skill. You have the fuel. Now let’s make sure you can control the fire.”

There was something comforting in that. The idea that this was exactly the same as the sword. Fenir had hopped up readily, and though channelling this sort of magic was new to him, he’d managed to summon the shield twice more before they’d had to call it quits.

So that was another kind of new normal. Magic training. Different again, but fun. So many ways to go about it too. Magic quickly became an art of expression for Fenir, even more so than the sword.

Spells to spur Fenir onward, outlast his tiredness and keep his guard up. Spells to make the practise sword burst into flames and spells to protect himself from blows. Spells for himself and spells for his allies. A thousand small ways to change the way each and every one of them was cast. To make them all his own. A shout here, the right gesture there. All worked into the fight until every move was a complicated dance of Fenir’s own design. Complex but drilled over and over until Fenir was certain he could do it in his sleep.

  And so things continued for another year or so, until Vord waited up past sunrise for Fenir again, a book in his hands.

“I think I finally found it.” He said, a worn out grin on his face. “You aren’t crazy Fenir.”

Fenir had taken the book. It was heavy, old yellow parchment covered in dust that made him sneeze. Aside from the bluish runes along the spine, it was utterly mundane. Untitled and unadorned.

“Where did you find this?”

Vord shrugged. “I have a certain reputation, even without a badge. Just don’t lose it or damage it. I really don’t want to end up catching the attention of some very unscrupulous people any more than I need to.”

Mindful of Vord’s words, Fenir began to read.

And then read the opening three more times just to be sure.

“A Planeswalker is a person that can what?” He asked in disbelief.

“Travel to other worlds. Sounds familiar doesn’t it? Turn to page eighty-four and tell me if I’m wrong.”

Careful not to tear the pages, Fenir flipped through the tome. The words that stared up at him were everything he needed. Water to extinguish the lingering flames of doubt he had in his sanity.

ZENDIKAR

Though little information on other planes has come to Ravnica, we have more intel on Zendikar than most. It is a wild plane, landscape constantly shifting due to what its inhabitants call the Roil…

“That’s it.” Fenir whispered. “That’s where I’m from.”

It hadn’t been made up, or crazy, or a misunderstanding. It had been real. As real as the last four years here in Ravnica. He looked up at Vord, blinking back tears. “It’s all real.”

Vord didn’t say anything. He just watched Fenir flip through the book, taking in the names and one or two page descriptions of all the planes. Not much more. He turned past plane after plane until he found what he was looking for.

The experience of planeswalking seems to be unique to each planeswalker. From what information we have gleaned, the planeswalker has no control over the first plane they visit, but develops some level of control directly after. It seems as though planeswalking is much like any other sort of magic, though it seems impossible for those without the natural gift to replicate it. The exact method of how planeswalkers harness their power is still unknown, though casual observation suggests similarities to mundane spellcasting.

“I-I need to figure this out.” Fenir stared at the book, shaken to his very core. “How do I use this?”

“Ah. You’re… going back then?”

“No!” Fenir didn’t even need to think about his answer. Even if Vord’s tone hadn’t been unmistakably full of pain, it would have been the same. There was nothing left for him in Zendikar but bad memories. Whatever disaster had killed his parents must have killed off everyone else too. They’d had plans. He still knew them all by heart. Rescues for those that got trapped. For his parents to die like that… everyone else must have too. Fenir tried to force a smile. To make a joke. To keep things light and happy and look forward, never back. “How am I gonna be a Skyknight if I go back to Zendikar?”

It was like watching a sheet dropped to the ground, the way Vord crumpled in relief, all the tension draining out of him. “Of course. How could I forget how driven you are? But you do plan on leaving?”

Fenir stared. Leaving? That sounded so permanent. “More like…training. If I really have these powers, I need to know how to use them properly.”

“And the only way to do that is by using them.” Vord nodded. “In that case, I have something for you.” He reached behind the chair he favoured, revealing an expertly made sword. Nothing flashy, no jewels or impractically fancy metalwork, but when Fenir drew it, he found it to be perfectly balanced.

“It was mine once.” Vord said as Fenir tested the blade. “I meant to give it to you once you joined the Legion. But it seems like you have need of it now.”

It was crazy, absolutely crazy, that Fenir was considering this. It was even crazier that Vord was encouraging it. “You really think I’m…ready? To do something like this?”

“No. No one is ever ready for this sort of thing.” Vord grinned at Fenir’s shock. “It’s not something you can prepare for. But if you’re asking if I think that you can handle yourself? I do. And I should know, I trained you myself.”

It was weird, how uplifting those words were. How they spurred Fenir on until he felt like he had to leave right now.

“But.” Vord continued. “You shouldn’t be gone for more than three days at a time. You can’t expect me to be worried about you for longer than that.”

It seemed a reasonable enough rule, and Fenir nodded his assent. “I’ll try. Anything else?”

“Make sure you have a good memory. I’ll be wanting all the details.” Vord looked at the windows that threatened sunlight. “Remember to tell them you were sick when you go back to school. I’m not enough of a fool to think I could stop you now. Just don’t make a habit of it.”

“I won’t.” Fenir took a deep breath, trying to feel the power that had ignited in him that day and sent him rocketing out of his grave.

It came far easier than he expected. Reality was laid out before Fenir, and he laughed breathlessly.

“I’ll see you soon Vord.”

And then he soared. Reaching out towards anywhere, hurtling so fast he thought he was going to come apart at the seams until he came to rest after an eternity of an instant. The sky was storm dark, the wind howling like a wolf locked in a crypt. Over the edge of the cliff Fenir found himself on, a swamp stretched out to the horizon, no end in sight.

It was cold. It was dark. It was depressing. But Fenir had never felt better.

I am a planeswalker.