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avionvadion · 4 years

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Forest Deep: a fanfic mixing Secret of the Cursed Mask and the actual Inuyasha anime itself. https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115702/chapters/58056064

Summary: Naraku had one goal- to destroy Inuyasha. Now with his new companion he has an idea how to make that happen. Brought to the Feudal Era by an unwanted Summoning, Irene's in search of her older sister and the one who brought them there. With the help of her new friends she might just find them, but it's hard getting through battles- nonetheless the day- with her lung problems. Why is this Naraku so cruel? What does he gain from hurting people? Who is his new friend- and what's underneath that mask she wears? Irene doesn't know. But she'll find out- one way or another. She just wished she had her sister beside her as she did it.

The first drawing is basically the story cover. I drew it back before Irene’s hair had a consistency and I had a better grasp of the art style XD The second image is from the end of chapter 20 and the last one is for chapter 15.

Story:

"I-It's…" Oh gods. "It's a saying where I'm from. Just- Just ignore it. I speak nonsense. Um. Look. You don't want to stay here, right? I don't want to stay here either. I have a sister I gotta make sure ain't dead, some friends to get back- granted… they probably don't want anything to do with me anymore, and an evil half-demon to stop, so~!" I huffed and stood, brushing some dirt off my pale blue jeans. I walked over, holding a shaky hand out to her with a grin. "You can come with or you can stay here and go crazy! Your choice."

Her eyebrows knit together. "For what reason did you desire the Magatama fruit? Most here are… filled with greed. They want its power for themselves. I, too, was selfish and… it brought me here."

"It…" I hesitated. Memories of the villagers falling came to mind. "I… I need the fruit to break a barrier. If the barrier doesn't break then… more people are gonna die. And… I don't want to see that happen."

"That's sounds awful…" Shizuno said, bringing a hand up to her mouth. "A-Are you certain that it's not another lie someone told? You could have fallen into a trap."

"I mean, probably?" I made a face, moving my head to the side and shaking it, shrugging my shoulders. "Buuut I have no reason to distrust him, you know? I-It's weird. Like, yeah he can be pretty shady when he wants to be, but he's helped me out this far and it's because of him I can talk to Shikigami spirits and heal people. So! I think he's nice. He did mention that this would be really dangerous and I was a firm believer I wouldn't survive. Was that a lie? Nope. Here we are! In a magical space surrounded by a bunch of crazy people."

"You are…" She frowned. "...strange. You speak of dire circumstances, yet you smile so brightly. Why do you behave so casually?"

"I just do." I was still so tired. "Life just sucks. That's how it works. No use mopin' about."

Unless of course several people had died. Damn it. I can still hear their screams, the children calling out for their parents as they ran for their lives. The blood splattering onto the ground… and staining Kohaku's kusarigama.

"Anyway! You never answered my question. You comin' with me?" I stretched out my fingers and wiggled them at her, staring at her expectantly. "You know you waaaant tooooo~! Far over the misty mountains cold~ to dungeons deep and caverns old!" My voice cracked and I coughed, hacking into my sleeve. My voice really could not go low. It was so distressing. The woman gave me such a strange look, but she reached out and took my hand. I felt so lightheaded. "Oh? Yay!"

She shook her head at me, folding her hands close to her chest. "We could be trapped here in eternal suffering," Shizuno told me, "yet you sing? Why?"

"Because if we're gonna be suffering eternally," I declared, holding an index finger up wisely, "we might as well have fun with it. Sadly I don't remember all the lyrics, but! It's a good song." I approached the mountain wall, staring up and squinting my eyes as I tried to gauge how far up we would have to climb before we reached the next ledge. My hands were all scraped up. "Okay… calm down. We can do this. You up for the climb?"

"Y-Yes, I suppose… what about you?" She stared at me, frowning. "Your skin is quite pale…"

"I'll be fine." I had to be. "My… My friends are waiting for me."

If they even still thought of me as one.

"And… your sister?"

I didn't answer. I wasn't even sure she was alive. "If I don't get that Magatama fruit… more people are gonna die. I… I don't want her to be one of them." I looked back at Shizuno, forcing another closed-eye grin, ignoring the lump forming in my throat. I had to be strong- for her. She was in pain as well. Her entire village was destroyed. "So we gotta keep going. Up and at 'em!"

I cracked my knuckles and reached up, grabbing onto a root sticking out from one of the rocks. This part of the wall was covered with vines, but there was no telling if they could all hold. Shizuno followed behind me uncertainly, grabbing onto a rock and climbing. "Th-This is very dangerous!"

Well, obviously. But I was convinced that we couldn't quite… die here? I've seen so many people wandering around and not one skeleton. At least there weren't any demons nearby in this spirit realm that could eat us. I don't think I'd taste very good. Ick. My mind flashed back to the mansion and I cringed, temporarily halting in my climb. Don't freak out. I had to stay calm. This is fine.

I'm fine. Always. Always fine.

I may be slowly breaking apart, but I'm fine. It's how I am.

This is just life.

It's my fault those villagers are dead, so I have to avenge them. Don't I?

Suddenly the vines I was climbing broke and I let out a small shriek, falling back towards the ledge below. The wind around me picked up pace and suddenly my descent slowed, causing me to blink. Then once I was close enough to the ground it stopped and I hit my head, crashing hard onto my back. "O-Ow! Frick!" I cringed and curled onto my side, bringing my hands up to the back of my aching skull. It was being put through so much abuse today. "Dude, that hurt!"

"A-Are you alright!?" Shizuno called down. She was at least thirty feet above me, clinging tight to some vines. "The wind just- how on earth-!?"

"Spirits." I hissed, wincing at the bump that was definitely going to be there for a while. The wind helped enough for me not to die, but wasn't completely forgiving to leave me free of injury. "Eugh…" That seriously hurt, but at least it wasn't fatal. This proved that one of my theories were right. Kazumi would have us wander forever in insanity, but she would not have us kill ourselves. "Frick."

I stumbled, wobbling over to the wall and leaning against it for a moment until my vision cleared. The world was trying to spin on me.

"Need to… keep going." I wheezed. This air spirit guardian person was such a sadist. "Have to… save them…"

My fingers gripped weakly at the roots. I wouldn't be able to climb in this state.

"Naraku… must be… stopped…"

I'm so dizzy. My forehead pressed against the rocky mountain side, eyes closing as I waited to catch my breath. That scared the crap out of me- falling like that. I hated it. After a few long minutes I grabbed at the vines again, fingers feeling numb and tingly, and I kicked at the wall with my bare feet. Being weak is one thing, but being stubborn was another. I was determined.

"I will… defeat him…" I wheezed, reaching up and grasping tiredly at a rock jutting out. It crumbled and I had to go for one higher up, stretching my arm painfully. "Barrier… it will break…"

Naraku sent Kohaku and Kanna after me, and why? Because Anastasia wanted my soul for some god awful reason that still wasn't explained. He made them attack the villagers that were helping me, and if Kagome didn't crack the mirror and force the souls to be freed so many more would already be dead. They tried to help me and Naraku forced Kohaku to kill them because of that. He was awful.

He was more of a madman than anyone else in this place.

The air around me seemed to grow gentler, my body becoming lighter and moving a bit faster. It was almost as if it was giving me a boost, but I knew that couldn't be the case. It was so aggressive earlier. After what surely must have been an hour I reached the ledge I fell from, reuniting with Shizuno who watched as I fell onto my front, eyes closed and breath heavy. "You are not the most healthy person, are you?" She asked.

"I wonder what… gave you that idea?" I wheezed, the sarcasm dripping off my tongue. "I told you… sickly human… didn't I?"

She gave a small smile, almost amused by my weird ways. "You did. Will you be able to make it to the top? There is still quite a ways to go."

"Yeah, just… need to… rest a bit first. Is that okay… with you?"

Shizuno nodded. "Yes… we have all of eternity, after all. Time does not seem to pass in this place. I have seen many arrive here, yet… they never aged. It is rather concerning, but there is nothing we can do. I fear many years have already passed since I was first brought here."

Wait, what? Oh no. My eyes widened and I sat up, looking at her in alarm and ignoring the rapid pounding of my heart. "N-No way… no, no, no! We… We have to hurry! I-I can't-!" I can't be trapped here forever. I have to get that fruit as fast as possible. If Maria was still alive then I can't be left behind. "The mountain! W-We have to… to climb…!"

I stumbled over, dazed and desperate, grabbing at the roots and struggling to climb. Shizuno dashed over and caught me when I fell, startled when she felt the heat radiating from my body. "I-Irene! You are feverish!"

"M'fine." I mumbled. "Have to get… to Sango…"

She, Miroku, Shippō, and Kirara are all up there dealing with the air spirit alone.

"Don't wanna see 'em hurt…"

I'm so sleepy. I want to take a nap.

"Gotta beat Naraku… and his dumb barrier thing…"

"Rest first. We have time." She said softly, voice so soothing. Shizuno carefully moved me away from the wall, keeping her arms around my waist, setting me down on the ground beside her. My head fell against her chest and my eyes closed, giving in to the comfort she gave. A hug felt so nice right now… yet her body was so cold. Her fingers ran gently along my hair, fiddling with the short strands. "You are fighting so strongly right now, are you not? It must be hard…"

"S'not… just… hurts."

"Why do you want to fight this Naraku so bad?"

"He hurts… people." I told her quietly, finding myself being lulled to sleep by her gentle touch. "They… helped me a-and he… killed them."

"He did?"

I nodded, making a small noise of confirmation. "He had… Sango's younger brother… attack. H-He's controlled by him, so he can't… fight back. She's always crying when she… has to face him. I don't like it. She's so much better… when she's happy…"

"I see. So Naraku is the one to blame."

Yes. He made Kohaku hurt them. It was all that evil half-demon's fault that the villagers are dead. "Naraku… killed them…"

"If that is so… then you should be able to climb the mountain now."

"...What?" My eyes slowly opened and I blinked, turning my head to look tiredly at Shizuno.

Her features seemed to change as the wind around us blew stronger, her long black hair shifting into something shorter and more white in color. I yanked myself off of her lap, watching as her colorful kimono become a pale blue, a white cloth draped over her shoulders and wrapped around her arms. As I stumbled into an upright stance, standing and backing away slowly, her dark eyes became an icy blue, lips dark and almost purple in color. I hadn't seen her entire appearance before, but I was certain now as to why Shizuno looked so familiar.

"K-Kazumi?"

…

"Where did she go!?" Sango demanded, whirling around to try and locate where the air spirit disappeared to. They were just talking when the mist became stronger, the entire area around them being covered in fog. The demon slayer couldn't see five feet in front of her. "Miroku! Shippō!"

"Here!" The fox demon informed, about ten feet back.

"I'm over here!" The monk shouted somewhere from her left side, sweeping at the area around him with his staff. "I'd use my Wind Tunnel to suck in this mess, but I might anger the spirits further if I did and cost Irene her life! Sango, what should we do!?"

"I-I don't know!" For once the demon slayer was at a loss. There was no enemy to fight, no goddess to appease. Only a spirit set on challenging their friend to a test of truth. "I… never realized she felt so guilty for what had happened…" Sango said after a moment, looking down at the hiraikotsu in her hand, closing her eyes with a pained expression. "I was only focused on myself. Miroku, I…" She rested a hand over her face, ashamed. "I'm a terrible friend."

"No, Sango, don't blame yourself." The monk shook his head. "I, too, did not notice. I was believing us to finally be able to close the gap and become proper allies, and yet…"

"She's always blaming herself!" Shippō stated, frowning deeply. He appeared greatly bothered. "Irene has such a guilt-complex for some reason! I don't get it! She's always apologizing for every little thing, no matter how small it is! Inuyasha was always yelling at her for it!"

"I-I thought she was just shy." Sango admitted. "But… I guess there's more to it. What do you think, Miroku?"

"Anything could have caused it." He informed them, something unsettling forming in his stomach. The monk always had been unable to refuse helping a young woman in need and the one in trouble now was a friend. Yet how could they protect her if they didn't even know what was wrong? If they couldn't even reach her where she was now? Why did Irene feel the need to place the blame on herself? "I'm afraid we'll just have to ask and pray she will tell us when she returns."

"I hope so…"

…

"H-How did you-!?" I pointed at her, dumbfounded, then gestured to where the brunette used to be. "Sh-She was just- hah? Gah! Shapeshifter!"

I took several more steps back. The woman's expression became blank once more, resembling more of the air spirit I had met earlier. "She was nothing more than an illusion. I created her as a guide, just as I have done time-and-again for those who come up this mountain. A rare few have ever been able to accept their truth and continue forth up the mountain. They were always too trapped in their greed, their selfishness… and would never think twice about abandoning someone else if it meant reaching their own goal."

What is she saying? I don't understand. My head hurts so much from this; I was still so dazed.

Kazumi closed her eyes, opening them only when her purple lips tilted upwards into a smile. "You have passed my test, Irene. You have accepted that Naraku was the one to blame for the villagers deaths. The children did not die because of you. I have seen into your mind… I know what you saw. I know how you felt. With this test I was able to attune your heart and I have come to the decision that you are indeed worthy… of a Magatama fruit."

"But… I literally didn't do anything?" I don't get it. I'm too dizzy for all this. "I just climbed a mountain…"

The air spirit looked amused by this and went on to explain. "Though they scared you, you tried to approach those wandering souls and save them. When you saw the apparition I created… you tried to give her the courage to go on. Though… unorthodox in the way it was done… you remained strong for her for as long as you could. But you are only human- and one who is prone to illness cannot keep on for long." She glanced up at the mountain, icy eyes following the path up. "The wind will help you on your climb up the rest of the mountain. You need not fear falling; now that your mind is clear of guilt… the roots and rocks along the cliff will not break."

I'm still so confused, but alright. "Um, thank you…?"

"Do not thank me just yet." She warned. "If you so much as waver in your thoughts you will fall once more down to the bottom, and your soul will wander here for all eternity like the rest." Kazumi waved her arm and then she was gone, replaced by nothing but more fog.

My eyebrows raised and I shook my head incredulously, unable to believe the audacity some spirits could have. Like, seriously? Jeez. Crazy lady. She was so much nicer as Shizuno. At least she was giving me some advice… kind of. Was this all because I blamed myself for what happened with Kohaku?

That's what I'm getting from that conversation anyway. Ugh, I have such a migraine. I want to go home.

I need another hug.

I walked over and grabbed at the roots, hands shaking. They didn't feel as weak and numb as before, but they were bleeding. I had scraped them up quite badly during my climb. That strange feeling appeared again as I tried to move up the mountain, like the wind was giving me a boost. I supposed it actually was doing that, as it was helping me move a lot faster than before. I reached the next ledge in record time.

I tried not to think too much, focusing on the task at hand, determined not to fall below.

My heart wanted to waver, to believe that the children's deaths were my fault, that everyone who died should have blamed me, but… Shizuno's words stuck. They may have been protecting me, but it was by Naraku ordering Kohaku that they were killed. I had no control over the boy's actions. It was not my fault.

It was his.

The fog slowly cleared away the closer I got to the top and the people wandering around had vanished. I huffed and trembled, feet and hands scratched up and blistered, legs and arms sore. If not for the wind pushing me up- as if trying to say hurry up, stupid human like an irritable spirit- I would have collapsed long ago. I dragged myself up to the top ledge where I had been thrown off when I first met the guardian spirit Kazumi, struggling to push myself forward, and wound up clawing at the ground.

My poor fingertips were all bloody.

"I-Irene!?" I recognized that voice. I fell on the ground and rolled onto my back, wheezing and letting out a few coughs. I was so exhausted. "Oh, thank god! Miroku, Shippō, look!"

"Irene is back!"

"She passed the test!"

I could see the group dash over to me, Sango quickly kneeling by my side and helping me sit up. I began to tear up at the sight of her. Wasn't she mad at me? "Irene, you're burning up again! How badly did you stress yourself out!?" She asked, voice almost going into a sisterly scolding tone before relief crossed her face. "I'm so glad you're back…"

She surprised me by leaning down, wrapping her arms around me tightly."I should have paid more attention to your feelings. I'm so sorry."

"I-It's okay." I choked out, awkwardly hugging her with my arms so not to get blood on her armor. I'm such an idiot. They didn't hate me after all. "I-I'm fine. You're the one who was upset, so…"

"But so were you!" She pulled away, gripping my shoulders tightly with her hands. "All this time you've been festering hate and guilt inside of you- and for yourself no less! Ever since I've met you you've been apologizing left-and-right for things you had no control over! Irene, it's okay to be selfish! Not everything is your fault!"

I couldn't speak, too stunned by what was happening. This day was so dizzying. "I-I just… want to help." I finally got out, stuttering on my words. Her eyes were so intense; it felt like they were boring into my soul. "I-I can't do anything useful, so…"

"What do you mean by that?" Miroku demanded, stepping up. Kazumi was still nowhere in sight. "You've helped us countless times; we've told you before. Just who told you that you were useless? That made you believe you could guilt yourself for everything?"

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literarytrashcollection · 5 years

Text

The Model

AN: I love me a soft, fluffy Bucky. I just wanna snuggle him always. Also, spot the Stan Lee cameo.

Bucky x Reader

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I could feel my heart hammering in my chest as I approached the lounge area. Steve and Bucky were talking softly, gentle laughter and whispered memories. How could I interrupt that with something so mundane? I steeled myself at the doorway, mouthing over the words again as I rehearsed what I was going to say for the hundredth time.

I walked in, trying to be casual, and sat down in one of the oversized arm chairs.

“Morning, Y/N,” Bucky said lightly, picking up his coffee. Ever since I had joined the Avengers, I’d be well and thoroughly adopted as the baby of the group. Parker even was defensive over me, and he was younger than me.

I flashed Bucky a nervous smile and looked down at my lap. “Steve, I need to ask you a favor.” I finally blurted after what felt like an eternity of silence. When neither of them spoke, I raised my eyes slightly, meeting Steve’s. “We’re doing…” I cleared my throat. It was suddenly drier than the Sahara in the room and I wanted to run away desperately. “We’re studying the human form for art class and I was wonderingifyouwouldbemymodel.” It came out like word vomit and I swear my face was going to burst into flames from the sheer heat of it.

Bucky snorted. “Aw, Stevie, Y/N wants to get you naked.”

My eyes snapped to Bucky and I narrowed them. “I will end you.” I hissed, but he just laughed harder. “They have a model we can use at school, but I thought the bragging rights would be deserved if I got to use an Avenger. Also, the model at school is a creepy old dude.” The word vomit just kept coming. I was babbling, my nose scrunched up as the image of Stan, the art model came to the forefront of my mind.

I refused to look at Steve—or stop talking—until he said my name gently. When I looked up, he was sitting forward with his elbows on his knees, Dad-Look firmly seated on his face. “Are your intentions pure?” He asked, voice grave but I could see him stifling a smile, just the slightest sparkle of mischief in his eyes.

“That’s it, I’m gonna ask Nat. She’ll do it.” I huffed, standing to storm out of the room. Nat would tease me too, but it would be Titanic jokes, instead of “are you just trying to fuck me” jokes at least.

“I’ll do it,” Bucky said and for a minute, I don’t think me or him or Steve or God even believed what just came out of his mouth. “I mean, if you’re going to get bragging rights for doing an Avenger, it may as well be extra challenging.” He added, raising his metal arm. “Besides, I’m still grounded after I got a little too aggressive with that crime syndicate from my last mission. I’ve got time to kill.”

Steve and I both stared at each other, then back at Bucky. “You know she’s talking about getting you naked, right?” Steve asked.

“No shit, Sherlock. When has my being naked in front of a cute girl ever bothered me?” Bucky retorted. He then took a deep breath and raised his eyebrows at me. “When do we start?”

----------

Bucky came with me to school the next day. The art department was usually empty on Fridays, so we were able to find a room to ourselves easily. I locked the door, closed the blinds and turned on the lights that I needed while Bucky wandered the edges of the room, looking at the knick-knacks and half finished pieces that littered the shelves.

“If you’re an Avenger, why are you still going to college?” He asked abruptly, fingers drifting over a freshly kiln-ed abstract pottery piece.

I shrugged. “Can’t Avenge forever. Besides, I’m still just in training. I’ve got no more clearance than you do.”

I pushed a lounge chair out of the corner and into the center of the room and draped a cloth over it, then set up my easel and stool. I could calm my raging nerves with the methodical routine of my art set up, ignore the warning sirens in my head with the stability and consistency of an easel, a pad of paper, pencils, erasers and fixative.

“You can probably get comfortable now. You brought a book, right?” I asked, setting out pencils and charcoal for myself. I started some music too, just so I could zone out and work without thinking too much about the fact that I was drawing Bucky naked for a grade. I understand all of those words separately, said the voice in my mind, dwelling on it being Bucky and him being naked and the ease of which he was willing to do it.

“I didn’t know I needed to,” he said sheepishly and my heart dropped. He was going to be naked, bored, and making fun of me. I had planned to just draw him reading, but that was out the window. Fan-fucking-tastic. “It’s okay, I can amuse myself.” He said with a dirty smirk, voice dripping innuendo.

I sighed and waited while he stripped down to his underwear. We both met eyes for a moment as he dropped his last article of clothing and every inch the cloth fell from his hips was an inch of blush that crawled up my chest and over my face. I quickly busied myself with adjusting my sketch pad on the easel, making sure my pencils were sharp enough, that I had enough smudge sticks and erasers.

“How should I… How do you want me?” He asked and I swallowed thickly. Not only did I have to draw him naked, but I had to adjust him naked too?

I walked over, making a point to not look at him, but at the space around him as I positioned him, so he was mostly sitting up, one leg kind of propped up, the other stretched out, his metal arm draped across his stomach in an effort to cover his junk for my own benefit.

I tried to position him so he looked strong, powerful, but leisurely. I wanted him to look regal, a man completely in control of himself and the people around him. That’s how I envisioned him. He wasn’t a leader yet, but he could be. “Comfy?”

He nodded and offered me a reassuring smile. “Trust me, this isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve done naked.” What is the weirdest thing you’ve done naked, Barnes? I didn’t ask what my head was screaming, but I couldn’t help my wandering mind.

“That does not instill me with any kind of confidence, Buck.” I sighed, returning to my things. “Try not to move, if you can help it. I’m going to snap a reference photo, just so if you need to get up and go to the bathroom or anything, you can and we can just reposition you.” I picked up my phone and took the photo. God, this was bad. I was horrified. I shouldn’t have even asked Steve. Bucky wouldn’t have known and then I wouldn’t have been in this predicament. Natasha would have been a much better candidate.

“Y/N, this isn’t a big deal, you know? I give you shit, but this isn’t that weird. Just friends hanging out.” I knew he could read my discomfort. It’s not like I hid it at all. But I felt bad being so weird about it at the same time. “Why’d you pick Steve anyway?”

I set my phone down and got comfortable on my stool, trying to decide where to start, both with the picture and with the answer. “He’s an artistic guy. I figured he would understand what I was doing better than most of you guys.”

“But why not Wanda or Natasha? Wanda seems like she’d be into this kind of stuff.” He asked as I started with his foot. I figured the best way to start was to trace the whole thing, then work the details in.

I sighed a little. “I can draw the female figure all day long. I happen to be female, if you hadn’t noticed. So, I kind of already know what it all looks like.”

“So, what? You’re saying you’ve never seen the male figure?” He asked with a laugh. I didn’t reply, which seemed to be answer enough for him. I’d resigned myself to doing this whole assignment with a blush on my face anyways. “Are you a virgin?”

I took a deep breath, focusing intently on my work and the music. I traced the curve of his legs, with my eyes and my pencil. Then his abdomen, his arms, his chest and shoulders.

“It’s okay if you are. I just thought… a pretty girl like you with so much confidence and charisma, you know?” He chuckled, his eyes far away, like he was reveling in some memory dredged up. My heart did a flip when he sucked his lower lip between his teeth, my mind wandering to a filthy place. I had to stop myself.

I put my pencil down for a minute and shut my eyes. “Boys never really liked me because I’m so… strong.” Boyish, masculine, aggressive, independent, memories of all the rejections I’d faced flitted through like a bad slideshow of sadness, quelling any inappropriate thoughts that might’ve been forming.

Bucky actually snorted. “Seriously? No offense, Y/N, but you must be going after pussies.” When I didn’t reply again, focusing instead on his metal arm, he continued: “Doll, if they can’t see through your powers to who you are, they’re just shallow, egocentric douche bags looking for empowerment. You deserve lightyears better than that.”

“It’s hard to find guys who can see past the powers though,” I shrugged. “Guys don’t even want to get close to a girl who can throw them across a room. A lot of the ones who were into that were… weird. And that’s not to say that all men are like that, just the ones that I’ve had to pleasure of dealing with.”

“Definitely not all men,” Bucky chuckled cryptically.

I shook my head, narrowing my eyes as I drew in the slats of his metal arm, added in the glinting light that reflected off of it. I felt my heart squeeze as I drew the marred flesh at his shoulder, the place where they had so indelicately taken his flesh arm away and forced the metal one on him.

“For the record, I think you’re wonderful the way you are.” Bucky piped up awkwardly.

I smiled a little. “Thanks Buck.” I had long since accepted myself. “Dating’s kind of on the back burner. If I happen across a decent guy who genuinely likes me and isn’t put off by my powers, awesome. Otherwise, I’m happy. I’m gonna finish my degree significantly earlier than most, I’m an Avenger and if I ever decide I’m done Avenging, then I’ve got a restaurant back home to run.”

“Is that what you’re in school for?”

“I’m in school for business management and accounting, both of which will help.” I nodded. I stood up and walked over to him, frowning as I studied his chest and the criss-crossing lines of scars that interrupted otherwise beautiful skin. I could feel him watching me, but couldn’t be bothered to care. As long as I didn’t have to study his dick, I could pretend that this wasn’t weird.

“So, why the art classes then?” He asked as I hesitantly reached out and traced a particularly long scar that ran from his collarbone to his hip. Once I was content with my recollection of his scars, I went back to my stool, lightly penciling them in before I went back for the detail work.

I couldn’t help but be enamored by the strong planes of muscle and smooth skin that stretched across his body. He was beautifully constructed and honestly, the artist part of me (and maybe the girl part of me) wanted to study every inch of him from head to toe because he was stupidly perfect. I could’ve spent years drawing him and never stopped being impressed by him.

“I have always loved art. Business is practical, but art is where my heart lives.” I mumbled. It was corny, but it was true. As much as Avenging made me feel good, made me feel like I was in the right place in my life, art was always my dream. Becoming an Avenger was like walking into a tower dedicated to art models, emotions thriving and warring between these god-like beings, emotions just begging to be captured with pencils and paper and paint.

He didn’t say anything for a while and when I looked up, his eyes were shut, face relaxed. Was he really that bored? I let my gaze linger as I studied the peaceful set of his face, the smudge of his lashes that dusted his cheeks, the soft, pillowy shape of his lips, juxtaposed with the sharp angles of his jaw and cheeks, hard and soft beautifully married to make up a face so perfect, it should’ve been illegal.

Maybe that was the real reason he was the most deadly assassin in the world, taking “if looks could kill” into a reality where he was so beautiful, people just dropped dead.

“Y/N, if you love art so much, that’s what you should do. You shouldn’t do something to make your family happy. You should do something that makes you happy.” Bucky said softly, startling me out of my revere. I busied myself with my drawing again, trying to translate the softness of his face onto the page.

“That’s what my parents keep telling me too,” I sighed.

“They’re right.”

I took a deep breath. Drawing his loose hair made me want to run my fingers through it, feel the softness of it.

Should’ve asked Nat. You wouldn’t be falling in love with her if you were drawing her, came that annoying little voice in my head. My heart thumped in agreement, but it knew that I’d held a special place for Bucky there long before I’d gotten him naked and posed for a drawing.

“What’s your dream, Buck?” I asked, trying to distract myself.

He didn’t speak again for a long time, but this time when I looked over, he was staring right at me, a sadness pulling his eyebrows together and tightening his lips into a hard line. “I think, kinda like Stevie, anything I wanted from life died when I went off the cliff. A lot of what he wanted out of life died in the ice.”

“So, what, you’re just floating aimlessly right now?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I’m trying really hard to heal from the Solider, you know? I want to be a better man now than I was then. I guess I’m just trying to use what I learned from him for good. I guess my dream is to just be better than I was.”

My heart broke for him. He’d been through too much in his life, lost too much of his life to HYDRA and the Soldier inside him.

“I didn’t mean to make you sad. I guess I just feel kind of open to you right now,” he laughed nervously.

I flicked my eyes back up to his face for a moment and shook my head. “I’m just sad for the past you’ve had. You’re already a better man than he was.”

He chuckled and stood, walking over to see what I’d done so far, still buck-naked. I did my best not to look at him, full stretched out in all his glory as he studied my work. His fingers traced some of the lines before he moved his hand to rub my back reassuringly.

“You’re so good at this, doll.” He murmured, pressing a light kiss to the top of my head before he ducked down to grab my purse, rummaging around for the protein bar he’d insisted he would not eat, because he definitely would not get hungry during this.

----------

When we finished, we both stood back studying it. I’d waited to put too much detail into his face until I got him laughing again. The look on his face as he leaned into laughter, the crinkling in his eyes, it made my heart sing loudly. I wanted to live in that feeling, I wanted to always picture him like that, regal and proud and happy, a man marred by the past, but comfortable in his skin and in his life.

He’d hugged me tight, no words on his lips but a simple, heartfelt thank you, Y/N. That by itself made me infinitely more happy with the piece than any grade I could have received.

He insisted on taking a picture with his phone of the piece, then one of me with the piece, “so he could show off the amazing artist.” To whom he planned on showing me off, I didn’t know. He never ventured from the tower much, didn’t have any friends outside of the Avengers, certainly no one that he would be showing nude drawings of himself to. I posed, a cheesy smile on my face nonetheless. He took me out for ice cream afterwards.

----------

At the end of the semester, the best pieces of art were put on display for an art show. I invited all of the Avengers, but only Steve, Natasha, Bucky and Tony could come, just because missions still had to be completed, the world still needed to be saved.

We rolled up to the campus and Tony looked unceremoniously scandalized by the lack of paparazzi and, well, people. He made a show of going on about some of the more famous art shows he’d attended, then nudged me with his shoulder and gave me a wink that told me everything I needed to hear without saying a word. This isn’t a big deal, you have no reason to be nervous, his smile said as he swaggered towards the art department building.

The display room had been redesigned by some of the interior decorating kids. Pottery, paintings, sculptures and drawings all intermingled through out the room, pieces hung from the walls, the ceiling, sat on stands and stools.

Off in the corner, Stan sat on the same stool the students who had used him as a model drew him on, dressed in nothing but a sock to maintain some semblance of modesty. His aviator style glasses and gray mustache bristled as he talked to patrons and students alike.

“You didn’t tell me there would be nudity at this party. Suddenly, I’m much more interested,” Natasha purred in my ear as she sauntered off to examine some of the abstract art. She were trying.

Avenging was easy, I felt no nerves over that. Art? Art was something that I felt down in my bones and watching as strangers and classmates and the people I cared about most poured over it and the details I’d done my best to capture, that made my throat close and the sweat run like rivers down my skin.

Steve and Bucky both pestered me until I took a picture of them posing with Stan, his arms wrapped around their waists as they both grinned hugely at me. Frat boys tried to convince my boys to go back to their houses with them and party. For a moment, I thought maybe they would.

Tony tried to buy someone’s statue of a naked woman, one delicate foot propped up on a hog-tied bear Captain Morgan style. He said he loved the female-empowerment that radiated off it. He wanted to give it to Pepper. Natasha said no and pick-pocketed his wallet off him, waving it me before she dropped it into her purse.

We all stood before my drawing of Bucky at the same time, all of us coming together to study it. I could feel my heart rate rising the longer no one spoke.

“This is absolutely incredible, Y/N,” Steve finally said. “Your attention to detail is insane.”

“It’s scarily lifelike.” Tony added. “Are you sure you didn’t just take his picture?” It was lighthearted ribbing, and it eased my nerves slightly.

“There’s so much emotion coming from this,” Natasha murmured, lacing her fingers with mine for a moment. “It’s beautiful.”

“That’s it, this calls for a celebration. Where’s the drink service at?” Tony said, looking around pointedly. When the rest disbursed, Bucky remained, staring up at the drawing with admiring eyes.

“It doesn’t even look like me.” He whispered, not looking at me. “It does, but it’s not… it feels surreal. That’s not at all how I ever imagine myself.”

He looked down long enough to slide his metal fingers through mine, holding on tightly. “It’s how I imagine you.” I admitted.

“This is how you see me?” He asked, emotion raw in his eyes. My heart started beating wildly, nervous that I had somehow upset him. He’d seen the drawing a dozen times since I’d finished it, but this was the first time he’d seemed truly moved by it. All I could do was nod. He smiled slightly, squeezing my hand hard. “It helps, knowing someone has so much faith in me.”

I rested my head on his shoulder, not responding.

----------

Tony demanded champagne in the car home. Happy rolled his eyes slightly in the rear view mirror as Tony popped the bottle. Natasha passed around glasses and once we were all served, we clinked our glasses together.

While the ride home was short, it was well spent, all of us laughing and chatting. I was permitted to take my piece home with me. Tony told me he wanted to have it hung up in the tower, framed and celebrated for years to come. He also decided he wanted to commission an oil painting of himself, also nude, but posed the same as the statue he had wanted to buy, bear and all.

Happy and Steve had to escort Tony inside, Natasha following after them lazily, a small, happy smile gracing her lips and lighting up her tired eyes. I wanted to draw her next, but I wanted it to be candid. Something fierce and powerful to remind her of how amazing she was.

“Come with me,” Bucky murmured, startling me out of my admiration of my friends. He offered me his arm and I linked mine through it. We walked up the stairs, but we took it slow, chatting quietly about some of the other pieces that we’d seen at the show that we’d liked and pieces we’d hated or just didn’t get (i.e. female Captain Morgan with the bear). We laughed at chatty Stan who’s sock almost fell off twice, once “accidentally” as Natasha talked to him.

He led me up to the viewing deck, a nice balcony that looked over New York. The lights from the buildings and cars glittered like stars, an entire universe built into one city. Bucky moved his hand to my back and stayed quiet with me, letting me drink in the beauty below me. I could have stayed there forever, the warmth of his skin making me cozy.

“Thank you for being my model.” I mumbled after a long moment of silence.

He nodded, his fingers slowly sliding to my hip. “Since I did you that favor, I was wondering if I might have one in return?”

“Of course, anything.” I nodded, studying the way the windows on the buildings reflected the lights of the buildings around them, making everything infinitely brighter.

“Will you do me the pleasure of going on a date with me?” He asked softly, his lips almost at my ear. Suddenly the city was dull compared the beauty of the intimate moment he’d created between us. I looked up at him and was mesmerized by the way his eyes sparkled, his lips turned up into a smile as he held me closer than I had realized he was holding me.

It took me an embarrassingly long time to remember how to speak. “I said anything, didn’t I?” I replied. It was meant to come out snarky, cool and collected. It came out soft though. Even I could hear the wanting in my voice.

He smiled brilliantly, muting all the lights that twinkled below us, only for a moment as he lowered his mouth to mine, fireworks going off somewhere in the vicinity of our joined lips.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky imagine #winter solider imagine #winter solider x reader #bucky x reader #Steve Rogers #captain america #captain rogers #tony stark #Iron Man #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #Black Widow #Scarlet Witch #wanda maximoff #Avengers #avengers tower #avengers au #reader insert

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venus-says · 4 years

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Yes! Pretty Cure 5 Episodes 01-24

The biggest irony of it all is that this isn't the 5th precure season.

New month, new season! And march will be another busy month as I'll have to cover two seasons instead of one. I hope I don't get crazy with it, especially considering that both my brother and my birthdays are in this month, I hope I don't get behind schedule again...

But oh well, that's not what you came here for, you came here for precure so let's talk about that.

Yes and GoGo are seasons that I have a weird history with. Much like Splash Star I never got to finish neither seasons, but I got to work on both of them back in the day when I was part of the Brazilian Subs group who takes care of everything precure related, I don't remember exactly what episodes I was involved with but I did quite a few of them, including the Yes finale, funny enough. Because of my contact with the Yes! seasons weren't of a mere spectator I used to hold these seasons in high regard, they were never part of my top 4 but they were very close, I used to say I like them a lot even though I never properly watched them. But now, after properly sitting through the entire thing... I'm more on the fence about what my feelings are.

Much like its predecessor, Yes was a season for a lot of firsts in the franchise which means they were a bit inventive with the ideas for the show, and while some of those ideas work very well, others not so much. Aside from the team of five and all the implications that come with it, the biggest difference from Yes to the past series is that this is the most episodic and more character-focused series up until now. The plot is almost nonexistent but in exchange, we got a lot of focus on these characters and the stories the show wants to tell about each one of them that intertwines with the show's main theme of hope and finding your own path in life. And that's not a problem, au contraire, this is one of its biggest strengths because the main cast is very solid and even the more overlooked of them is able to shine on its own.

The problems of the show start with more of a production level? I'm not a specialist in the matter, and I don't know much about this stuff so don't rake what I say here as fact, but I feel like since Splash Star underperformed they didn't have that big of a budget for this season and you can see that by how every single episode has some sort of fluke in the drawings or the animation. Which is a shame because this show has a great character design and the backgrounds are more often than not very beautiful. Another huge problem, at least to me, is in the action because Yes! didn't just introduce to us a team dynamic rather than a duo, they also introduced to the series a thing that haunts us until today, the stock footage finishers spam. Yes, the animation for the attacks isn't nearly as long as the ones we get today but I think it's very rare that we get a fight where not at least three attacks are used, like if the action portion wasn't already very short. Speaking of it, I don't understand why Dream is the one that finishes the monsters almost every time when it was shown that all other cures (probably only not counting Mint) can also break the masks and defeat them.

But this is more or less minor stuff, I can get behind it. My biggest problem with Yes! is the romance. They tried with Nagisa and Fujipi, it didn't work. They tried with Saki and Mai's brother, it didn't work. They should've learned with that, but instead, they decided to make it again and different from the past two cases they decide that they would sell the romances hard. Like, the first scene of this show was they already trying to sail Nozomi x Coco, and they shove this couple down your throat in a very ugly way. To begin with, it's an adult man with a high school girl and that's gross. "Oh, but he's a fairy" I DON'T CARE, in his human form he's a male adult, he's a school teacher which means everyone sees him as an adult, this shit is freaking gross. And they try to pull it twice because just Nozomi and Coco wasn't enough and they decided to make Nuts and Komachi a thing too. Thanks, I hate it.

Remember that I said the show doesn't look very beautiful all that often? Well, in episode 24 there's a scene with Nozomi and Coco and they're hugging and that shit was drawn with so much care and flare it didn't even look like the same anime. And you know what infuriates me the most? Is that right after it there's a scene that is the great moment of the episode where the whole group reunites and free themselves from Nightmare's control and that scene doesn't get anywhere near the same amount of care that the Nozomi x Coco scene got. They have transformations, attacks (I'm looking at you Aqua Stream), and the whole show looking subpar, but when it comes down to this couple they make it seem like a CLAMP manga, the only thing missing was the arabesques in the screen. I said it once, I'll say it again. THANKS, I HATE IT.

But moving on.

Going into the characters, Nozomi is weirdly enough the one who has let the less of an impression on me, but I would say a big part of it is because of all her thing with Coco. Because she has interesting going for her, like her indecisiveness about her own future, but this ends up being left behind because they wanna either focus on her thing with Coco or show just how clumsy and air-headed she is. It's a weird approach to the lead of the show, there are times that it seems like Nozomi and Dream are two different persons because when Nozomi is Nozomi they focus so much in showing how much of a crack-head she is, but when she's Dream she is very serious and mature, it's not a very good balance.

I like Rin quite a lot, she's the first one to take over the position of being the sporty one that before was exclusive to the pinks, and she has a great personality. She's just as much of a crackhead as Nozomi but she also is very grounded so she displays a full rainbow of emotion by being very funny, but also very snarky, without losing the ability to be angry and serious. She's a lot of fun.

Urara is probably my favorite, I love how the youngest of the cast is the most complex character of the group. Between dividing her life as an actress/singer with school and having to live this life with one of her parents being dead, she's probably the member who had gone through the most stuff in life, and while there are times we see that her past gets to her she does her best to never lose her smile and to always be cheerful and caring to everyone around her. She's a precious kid and I love her to death. That episode where we get to know about her mom is so strong, it's definitely my favorite of this first half.

Komachi is the only other member of the cast that already had a dream when we met her and this is great because we see her go through different situations that the other members of the cast wouldn't be able to. She's very sweet, but it's a shame the show doesn't give her a lot to do. Like in these 24 episodes only two were focused on her, one of them was her introduction as Cure Mint and the other was to try to sell Komachi x Nuts as a secondary ship for the show. She deserves so much more, I hope the second half will give her more focus.

Last member of the team is Karen and she's my second favorite. She's the stoic rich girl with a lot of responsibilities that would later become the rule of thumb for most blue cures. but she holds a lot of personality. I like how she's stubborn but it's not in the level that is annoying, it's on a level where it serves as a perfect contrast for her serious side. I also like her story about how lonely she was and how she used to hide and bottle up those emotions since when she was a kid but she started to open up more when the girls got into her life.

As a group they work very well, they all have amazing chemistry and a great dynamic, I love how they're all very different and have very few similarities between them yet they work magnificently together. I love how they were all introduced since episode 1 and all had small parts in each episode before they all became cures, it felt very natural the way they were getting close together. Another thing that I like, that I also praised this weeks' Healin' Good episode for, is that they don't click immediately, Rin and Nozomi were friends before, just like Karen and Komachi, but when they are the four together with an Urara cherry it's completely different from how they were before and they had to work that out. I would've like if this had been explored more than just Rin and Karen's small rivalry and the plot of episodes 23 and 24, but they're still great regardless.

The fairies though... they're probably the worst of this entire show. To begin with, they're not consistent between their fairy and their human forms, because they wanna sell Coco and Nuts as hot guys they make the human forms be completely different their cheerful selves as fairies, especially Coco. They're not interesting, they don't do much, I don't know why they're there. Coco is creepy, he's way too handy with Nozomi it makes me uncomfortable as hell. Nuts is a jerk, the dude is not pleasant and the fact they're trying to pair him with Komachi makes me want to hit my head against a wall. Milk is the last addition to the cast and holy jesus she's annoying as hell, much like Nuts she's a jerk as well and the show wants to make us sympathize with her by saying "she's like that just because she has gone through a lot" and that just makes me hate her even more. Also, their collectibles this season are the Pinkys and they're another thing I don't know why it's there, I also hate how there are 55 of these things, that's way too much.

The villains are a mixed bag. I like Nightmare and how it actually works as a company, I love their whole thing with the mask, I think it's a very menacing and intimidating look, it's perfect. I also like how the generals kinda work on a rotation system rather than what was the norm of the previous seasons where one general would come, do their thing, get defeated, and only then a new one would come. The problem is that they don't have that much of a personality? Like, Bumbee and Kawarino of course have a lot of character and they leave a clear impression on you, but the recurring generals not so much. I know they're a mantis, a spider and a frog, but other than that I don't remember much. But I guess that's not that big of a deal since this is more focused on developing the girls rather than the fight against Nightmare.

One last thing before I wrap-up. I love their cures' designs and I also love their transformation device, I wonder why we never got a watch or bracelet as a transformation device again. The transformations are short, just like the attacks, and it frustrates me that they have good concepts for how each one is "choreographed" but the actual drawings for them lack a lot of care in the details. Like I mentioned up there, the animations and the drawings aren't the best and you would think that at least the stock footage they would get it right, but they go off-model quite a lot of times, this gets very evident in Aqua's roll call, their group pose, and Aqua Stream's sequence. Maybe it's foolish of me to complain about this since I'm watching the DVD version and these things are probably corrected in the blu-ray, but again these reviews are about my experience so these were details that tickled me off so I have to mention them.

Well, that does it for now. This ended up being way longer than I expected, thank you so much if you read all of this. Please let me know your thoughts on the first half of Yes! in the comments, I'm enjoying the ride despite all the bad things I said and I'm excited to properly finish this season in the next week. See you all around~ o/

#Yes! Pretty Cure 5 #Yes! Precure 5 #precure

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heart-eyes-matteo · 5 years

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It’s You ~ David x Matteo

Hi, here’s that best friends to lovers AU I was talking about, I hope it’s okay!!

AO3 Link: In the reblog

Word Count: 6952

Warnings: none

Summary:

“And at school while he’s looking at Hanna, I’m…” he trailed off for a moment, lowering his voice timidly, “...looking at him.”

David nodded, his eyes downcast, and Matteo couldn’t help but think from the level of understanding on his face that he knew somehow what that was like. He brushed the thought off though - they were best friends at this point, and if David liked someone he would be the first to know. Right?

Or the one where Matteo and David are best friends. That is - until feelings become involved.

*Fic is under the break*

Matteo was 14 years old when he saw first saw David. They were on break, and Jonas had declared they desperately needed fresh air or they’d wither away inside. He was right, although Matteo really didn’t want him to be. He enjoyed spending his days at Jonas’ place playing video games, pretending that the world around them didn’t exist. That the fighting between his parents didn’t exist.

After a few days of consistent rainfall, the clouds had finally eased up to allow some sunshine. A gentle breeze gusted over the park, rustling his hair and misplacing a few strands as he plucked a flower from the ground and dropped it on Carlos’ head. The boy snorted and messed up his own hair in attempt to remove it.

“Matteo stop picking flowers,” Jonas groaned, not looking up from his phone for a second.

“I’m bored,” came the equally whiny response, earning him a laugh from Abdi.

“Dude, you’re literally always bored unless you’re playing video games.”

“So what? Video games are sick,” he retorted, flicking a smartie at the boy.

Jonas glanced up for a brief moment to roll his eyes, before returning right back to his phone. Matteo was almost tempted to ask what he was doing, but he knew that would only lead to one of the vague answers they had been receiving from Jonas as of late. He’d never admit it aloud, but he was beginning to worry slightly about what it was that he was so adamant on hiding.

He had forgotten to charge his phone overnight, which had to be some of the worst timing in the world because Jonas had chosen that particular day for wanting fresh air. He cursed his bad luck under his breath as he glanced about the park, trying to find some sort of entertainment. There was a woman there with her toddler, a family, another group of kids and a boy sitting alone.

Matteo eyebrows furrowed slightly as his eyes landed on him. His dark hair fell insistently over his eyes as he leaned over his sketchbook, headphones on to drown out the world around him. Matteo did that a lot at home these days, although he’d never tell anyone that. Despite not being able to see the boy’s face fully he could tell there was concentration written all over it, his hand guiding the pencil in smooth motions. He looked somewhat out of place at a park full on kids on a sunny day, wearing all black and radiating the energy of someone who didn’t want to be approached.

Mateo thought about how he felt when he was alone, and he couldn’t help but wonder why anyone would come to a park like this by themselves. Maybe he liked being alone? Matteo could hardly imagine what that would be like.

“I’ve got it guys!” Jonas yelled out in triumph, but for once Matteo’s attention wasn’t on him. It was still on the boy sitting by himself, who was now looking up curiously as if he could feel someone’s eyes on him. His gaze met Matteo’s, and for a brief moment he forgot how to breath. A faint smile ghosted over the boy’s lips, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Carlos waved a hand in front of his face. “Hello? Earth to Matteo?”

Matteo just swatted at Carlos’ arm, redirecting his attention towards Jonas. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I know where we can get some weed to try!”

Matteo pushed aside the uneasy feeling in his stomach and forced a smile onto his face. “Nice,” he nodded, giving him a clap on the back.

“Lets go back guys. I’m bored as fuck,” said Abdi, getting to his feet.

Matteo groaned and held out his arms, which the boy begrudgingly took to help him up.

As they made their way towards the footpath, Matteo gave Abdi a playful shove. “So when I say I’m bored you guys make fun of me, but when Abdi says he’s bored we go? What the fuck is that!”

Jonas laughed and slung an arm over his shoulder, which had an annoying bunch of butterflies appearing in Matteo’s stomach.

“That’s because Abdi isn’t bored by everything,” Jonas explained.

“Oh fuck off,” he mumbled, earning himself another laugh.

Matteo glanced back towards the bench for a final time, only to discover that the boy was gone. He stared in confusion for a moment, before shrugging and tuning back into what Jonas was saying.

It was a few weeks later when term had started that Matteo saw the boy again. Despite the sunshine they were having that day, there was a chilling breeze outside that had people tugging at their coats and tightening their scarves.

Matteo was walking casually through the corridors, fashionably late to his Science class as he often was. He was scanning the area absentmindedly as he walked, in no particular rush whatsoever to reach his destination. His eyes landed on that boy from the park, which had Matteo double-taking in an almost comical fashion. There was no mistaking him - he had dark hair and warm brown eyes, wearing all black as he had been the first time. He was leant up against the wall with the same sketchpad in his arms, drawing away with his headphones on.

Something in Matteo had him stopping all of sudden, and as the boy slowly looked up at him he began to realise what an awful idea that had been. He had no clue what to say, so he ended up standing there silently for a moment or two, probably looking like idiot.

“Hey,” he settled on saying. “I’m Matteo.”

The boy’s smile was amused, but it didn’t seem unkind.

“I’m David,” he greeted. “Did you want something?”

Matteo wracked his brain for something to say that wouldn’t make him seem like any more of an idiot, but he came up blank. He was used to feeling awkward around new people, but this had to be a whole new level of mortifying - this guy was cool in an intimidating way.

“Uh...not really. You’re new, right?”

David nodded, still looking amused. “Yeah. I’m new.”

“Well...let me know if you need help with anything,” he said, not even fully aware of what was leaving his mouth. He honestly had no idea what was happening to him - usually he was never one to initiate something like this.

The boy’s playful smile melted into something fonder. “Thanks, Matteo.”

The following day brought rainfall with it, which really shouldn’t have been surprising given the angry grey storm clouds Matteo had seen on the way to school. It happened to be a perfect reflection of his mood at that moment after having locked himself in his room for the whole night to escape the sounds of his parents fighting. They had clashed for as long as he could remember, but he swore it had never been this bad before. Turning up the volume of his music helped in drowning out the yelling, but it didn’t drown out the knowledge of what was occurring between his parents in the next room.

It had started out with one tear. Then another. Then another, until soon he was crying and getting up from his seat in the cafeteria, mumbling something to his friends about needing to go through to the bathroom. He stumbled slightly on the way there, his throat tight as silent tears turned into sobs that he had to muffle with his hand. He reached the boy’s bathroom and grabbed on tightly to the sink like it was a lifeline, looking into the mirror and trying desperately to calm himself down somehow. He hated crying more than anything, but sometimes it was hard for him to stop.

He thought about his dad, and how he kept talking about wanting to move back to Italy. He thought about his mom, and how she wasn’t getting the help he knew she needed. He thought about having to potentially move out, about how alone he would feel in a place by himself.

He was drowning in his own thoughts, so much so that he hadn’t even heard the door being gently pushed open and closed again.

“Matteo?”

The voice snapped him out of whatever daze he had been. He whirled around then, looking alarmed despite the knowledge that he wasn’t the only one who had access to this bathroom.

“Oh. David.”

The boy bit his lip for a moment, and Matteo could practically see the gears in his head turning.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

David raised a disbelieving eyebrow, tilting his head in a way that almost seemed playful.

Matteo smiled weakly. “I’d prefer not to talk about it.”

David nodded, and silence fell between them for a moment. Matteo was seriously considering just thanking him for his concern and relocating to a different bathroom, but David spoke up again before he could move at all.

“Wanna sit down for a moment?”

Matteo could barely conceal his shock at that. This boy, who he barely knew, wanted to sit with him...because he seemed sad? He contemplated this for a seconds, before nodding hesitantly.

“Sure.”

He wasn’t entirely sure why he had agreed. Maybe it had been the concern softening David’s features, or the warmth in his eyes. Either way, they ended up sat outside the bathroom, leaning up against the wall.

“When I’m feeling sad, there’s this song I listen to,” David explained, pulling earphones out of his bag and untangling them.

“Now you can’t judge for this,” he continued, which had Matteo smiling faintly despite the tear tracks that were still on his face.

He managed to untangle them after a few seconds, handing one over to Matteo and plugging them into his phone.

“You may know these guys,” he said, keeping his screen purposely shielded as he scrolled through his songs.

Matteo’s smile widened slightly as the opening verse began to play, giving the boy a playful shove. He could barely believe that this song was being played to him by a cool-looking guy in all black with a sketchbook on him at all times.

“Seriously? This is your taste in music?”

“The rest of my music is good!” he defended with a laugh.

Everyone else in the room can see it

Everyone else but you

Matteo bit his lip to contain a grin as David mouthed along to a few of the lines, elbowing him playfully. He was enjoying himself miraculously enough, which was the last thing he thought he’d be doing this lunchtime.

“Look - you’re trying not to smile! It’s working!”

“Shut up,” Matteo laughed, feeling more at ease than he had at any point during that day. David had been a welcome distraction, with his cheesy song and his charming smile, and from that moment forth their dynamic shifted to resemble something more like friendship.

When Matteo was 15 he spent a lot of his nights in his room, listening to loud music through his headphones to drown out the noise in his house. The fighting was becoming constant now, and the yelling was becoming increasingly aggressive in a way that had his heart racing in his chest whenever he heard it. It was one of these nights, except this night happened to be slightly different. David was over, but his parents didn’t know this - Matteo hadn’t expected them home until much later, and he was kind of having an internal freak out over the whole thing.

“Is this what you have to go through every night?” David whispered, clearly alarmed by the situation.

The boy’s usual air of confidence was gone, although he was clearly trying to maintain a brave face. It was pouring rain outside, and the insistent pattering it produced against the roof was only contributing to all of the noise in that house, drowning Matteo in sound that he desperately wanted to cover up with music like he always did. He hated the feeling of being lost in itself, but the feeling of being lost amongst the loud shouts that would resonate around his apartment was something he’d never be able to describe with words.

“It’s nothing,” he sighed, brushing David off. “It’ll be over in 30 minutes or so. Maybe 40.”

David’s eyebrows were furrowed with concern now. Matteo was so used to the sarcastic version of the boy he knew that it caught him off guard slightly.

“It’s fine,” he repeated, more insistent now, but David just tipped his head to the side, clearly not believing him.

“Is this why you never invite me over when they’re home?” he asked slowly, clearly trying to tread lightly.

Matteo bit his lip harsh to stop it from wobbling in the way it always did before he burst into tears. He got up silently and relocated to his bed, sitting to face the wall. It was a futile attempt to block David out, considering they were both in the same room, but it was an attempt nonetheless. There was silence between them for a moment, then he felt the bed dip beside him.

“Why do you do that?” David asked, softer now.

Matteo looked over at him in confusion, forgetting for a moment that he was trying to keep his gaze firmly on the wall.

“Do what?” he questioned.

“Try to hide whenever you’re about to cry.”

He had no idea what it was about the words, but they seemed to open the floodgates because suddenly there were tears rolling down his face. Matteo reverted back to staring at the wall, and after a moment he felt David’s head fall gently on his shoulder. They both remained like that for what seemed like ages, with David’s arms wrapped around him.

It probably hadn’t seemed like much to David at the time, but to Matteo it meant everything. He was so used to coping on his own, he couldn’t describe how nice it felt to finally be able to lean on someone - both physically and emotionally.

“You’re a fucking asshole!” Matteo laughed, throwing the controller down on the couch.

David laughed along beside him, his eyebrows raised in a smug fashion. “Yeah? Well at least I’m an asshole that’s better at Mario Kart than you are.”

That earnt him a playful shove,

It was a dreary Saturday evening, with no rainfall despite all of the clouds that were blanketing the sky. Matteo had been in a constant state of stress over the past week due to tests, and this was the first day he could confidently say didn’t suck.

Everyone knew David was ridiculously good at Mario Kart, and they’d always ask Matteo why he was ‘insane enough’ to play with him despite this fact. He honestly couldn’t tell them why, he just liked the bright smile that would always light up David’s face whenever he won. That answer sounded somewhat weird though, so he kept that safely to himself.

“What should we do now?” Matteo asked with a sigh, collapsing back down on the couch.

David collapsed down next to him, still smiling. “I don’t know. What do people usually do at sleepovers?”

Matteo looked away bashfully. At sleepovers with his friends, they usually spent their time discussing all the girls they liked, and that had never particularly been an interesting conversation for him so that was definitely out of the cards.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you like anyone?” he asked casually, eliciting a choked noise from David.

“Pardon?” he coughed, and Matteo couldn’t help but raise a surprised eyebrow.

“What the hell was that?”

“Fuck off,” David said with a laugh, but it didn’t have any heat behind it. “It’s just…”

“Just…” Matteo teased, mimicking David’s voice.

“Never mind. Do you like anyone?”

Matteo could feel his face growing warm already, which was somewhat mortifying. He contemplated it in his head for a moment, building up the courage, before letting out a heavy exhale and sitting up.

“I like Jonas,” he blurted out, and David’s face twisted from one of curiosity to one of shock to one of...no way. He was just seeing things.

“Oh. That’s cool...he seems like a nice guy.”

Matteo let out a dramatic sigh, playing with the bracelet around his wrist as he thought about what to say. David had been the first person he came out to, so the amount of shock that had been on face seemed kind of strange.

“He is,” Matteo nodded, frowning slightly at the way David was refusing to meet his eye.

The other boy suggested suddenly that they try drawing in his sketchbook, which had become somewhat of a tradition for them, and Matteo hastily agreed. The dreary sky outside filled the room with washed out lighting that Matteo had never really appreciated, so he closed the blinds and turned on his warm lamps before settling down at the table with David and picking up a pencil. He watched the boy draw for a moment, becoming slightly caught up on how endearing his look of concentration was, before starting on some of his own drawings.

Somehow, the topic returned to Jonas, and from there it turned to Matteo complaining about his hopeless crush on him.

“I never even realised how much I liked the idiot until he started dating Hanna. How unfair is that?” he asked, while David nodded along.

“That sucks,” he agreed, seeming absent-minded when he really wasn’t in the slightest. He was clinging onto every word, hoping desperately that this was some bad dream he could wake up from.

“And at school while he’s looking at Hanna, I’m…” he trailed off for a moment, lowering his voice timidly, “...looking at him.”

“I’m trans.”

Matteo looked up, trying hard to conceal his shock. The confession had seemed sudden, but from the look on David’s face he knew it had probably been on his mind for ages.

“Oh. Well that’s fine,” said Matteo, settling down on the couch next to him.

David’s smile looked so relieved that Matteo couldn’t help but frown.

“Oh fuck. Were you scared of telling me? David I-”

“Matteo it’s fine,” he interrupted with a laugh. “It’s coming out in general that I don’t like. Not just to you.”

Matteo nodded slowly, turning the information over in his head. “How long have you been thinking about telling me?” he asked.

David hesitated for a moment before responding. “A few months.”

That in itself had Matteo’s frown deepening. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. But I will be now, okay?”

The smile David gave him at that was blinding. He leaned his head on Matteo’s shoulder, letting out a shaky exhale. “Thanks.”

Matteo spent the following few weeks researching as much as he could about being trans, and David had only found out about it when he discovered his search history a month later. To say he was shocked as a total understatement, but Matteo just shrugged and told him it’s what all friends should do. David was visibly more relaxed around Matteo from that forth, smiling more, laughing more, talking more openly about why he needed breaks sometimes to go to the bathroom, and Matteo couldn’t be happier for him. Despite all of their playful insults towards one another, he really did want David to feel as comfortable as possible around him.

They were friends after all - probably even best friends at this point.

When Matteo was 16 he moved into a flat share. It wasn’t a sudden decision by any means; he had been discussing it with David for 6 months before he finally made the leap, spurred on by his dad’s announcement that he would be moving back to Italy. He lingered back for a week or two to make sure his mum was okay, but eventually he couldn’t keep justifying the stress it caused him to see her in the state she was in.

That brought him where he was now; at his flat share, unpacking his things. He didn’t own a lot, but David was there helping him anyway. The day had brought sunshine with it after a week of miserable weather, and Matteo couldn’t help but feel somewhat hopeful as he parted his curtains, allowing sunlight to flood the room.

“It’s a nice room,” said David, smiling as pulled a stuffed cat from one of Matteo’s bags. “And look - a nice cat too!”

Matteo rolled his eyes fondly, moving across the room and holding out a hand. “Hand over the cat.”

“What if I don’t want to?” David teased, stepping back when Matteo stepped forward.

Matteo just raised a challenging eyebrow, advancing forward even further. David turned around, laughing when the other boy wrapped his arms around him. They ended up stumbling about, laughing and attempting to throw each other off. The soft sounds of 80’s music that were coming from Matteo’s phone filled the room as they both fell onto the bed in a heap, with David hovering above him. His eyes were alight with laughter and mischief, which had a foreign feeling appearing in Matteo’s stomach. One that seemed awfully like...no. Fuck no.

Their smiles faded into something softer as they both lingered there, unsure of what to say or do. A loud bang interrupted them, and David practically sprung to his feet as Jonas, Carlos and Abdi waltzed into the room. Jonas had a slight wince on his face.

“Sorry guys. That was loud,” he said, sitting down casually on the bed beside Matteo.

“Jonas! Hi,” he said, scrambling up into a sitting position.

David took a deep breath, looking dejectedly between the pair for a moment. “I’ll go get us some...food,” he said quietly, walking hurriedly out of the room.

Matteo’s eyebrows were furrowed slightly with confusion as he watched the boy leave, tempted for a moment to get up and follow him. Jonas draped an arm over his shoulder, the goofy smile on his face suggesting he hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.

“What about a party tomorrow night to celebrate your new flat, dude?”

Carlos and Adbi nodded eagerly, while Matteo seemed hesitant, shifting his gaze uncertainly. It wouldn’t be a tolerable party for him unless David was there, and with the way he looked leaving the room Matteo wasn’t sure if he was in the best state to come along. Parties were fun and all, but lately he had found them to be overwhelming with their loud, pulsing music and large swarms of people. A part of him knew it was largely because he was closeted, and watching girls and boys being able to make out freely without worrying created a jealous pit in his stomach.

“Yeah maybe,” he settled on saying, saying up from the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

He left the room then, paying no mind to the confused glances that his friends all exchanged. He found David hovering in the kitchen, putting together sandwiches and humming quietly to himself. Matteo watched the scene with a fond smile; David rarely let his guard down in this way. His hair looked soft, tinged gold from the sunlight streaming in through the window, and he had earphones plugged in as he moved about.

Matteo cleared his throat pointedly, prompting David to look over at him. He didn’t look alarmed at all, which had a fluttery feeling entering Matteo’s stomach as he walked over. David had been comfortable around him for some time now, but the realisation never failed in bringing a smile to his lips.

“You okay?” he asked, approaching cautiously.

“Yeah,” said David with a shrug, continuing to move about the kitchen.

Matteo raised a disbelieving eyebrow at that, moving forward to stand in front of the boy as he turned around.

“You seemed upset just now. Did Jonas and the boys do something?”

David stared back at him, biting his lip out of obvious frustration, looking like he desperately wanted to yell something out. Matteo stared back challengingly.

“You’re so stupid, Matteo Florenzi,” he mumbled, side-stepping the boy and approaching the sandwich press again.

Matteo raised a hand to his chest in mock offence. “Okay, okay, no need to be an asshole.”

David just shot him a smug smile, and Matteo couldn’t help but wonder if that had always caused a swarm of butterflies to appear in his stomach.

Matteo gave into hosting a party the following day after some convincing from his friends, who all insisted that this was ‘a big step’ for him that had to be celebrated. Matteo couldn’t help but think they were using this as an excuse to get drunk and make out with girls, but he had checked in with David to make sure he would be there so he honestly didn’t care less about what they did.

Hans, his new overly-enthusiastic roommate, had welcomed the idea with open arms and was currently helping him prepare the apartment.

“So Michi might come over tonight after the party,” he told him with a bright smile.

Matteo nodded along, having already been filled in on the unique relationship they shared. He set down some plastic red cups on the counter, raising an eyebrow at the man.

“You two are seeing each other again?” he asked.

Hans chuckled and shook his head. “Oh no, not at all. He’s far too boring for me to be ‘seeing’ him. We’re just-”

“Okay, okay, got it,” Matteo interrupted with a wince, rolling his eyes at Hans’ cackling laughter

They’d left setting up until the very last moment, which explained the sharp knocking that filled the apartment a few moments later. Matteo groaned slightly and walked over to the door, throwing it open with a fake smile.

“Oh,” he gasped after a moment. “David!”

The boy arched an amused eyebrow. “You seem surprised.”

Matteo’s fake smile melted into a genuine one as he stepped aside to allow David inside.

“I’m not,” he laughed. “I don’t even know why I gasped.”

That was such a huge lie Matteo was scared for a moment that David would see right through it, but he just smiled again and wandered over to the kitchen. He stood there for a moment, probably looking like an idiot with the dumbstruck look on his face.

David looked good. Like - really good.

He had always known his friend was attractive - he wasn’t blind by any means, despite his refusal that day to help Hans judge the hotness of men on Grindr. Right now though his hair was styled up, his eyes were sparkling with mischief and he wore a black leather jacket with jeans. Matteo was so caught up in his staring that he hadn’t even noticed Jonas, Carlos and Adbi enter the apartment, and that was virtually impossible given how loud they all were.

He felt strangely hot all over, absentmindedly closing the door as he continued to stare. Surely looking as good as David did at that moment had to be illegal, with the way Matteo had currently been reduced to a star-struck idiot.

The way he felt now, watching David laugh as he talked to Carlos, was completely different to way he used to feel looking at him, and that thought in itself was terrifying. Lately when he looked out the window during class his mind would wander to David rather than Jonas, and now that he thought about it his urge to constantly be around Jonas had diminished over the past few months. It had all become about David, and that realisation hit him like a truck as he continued to stand there dumbly.

He could not like his best friend. This could absolutely not be happening.

Later on when the party was in full swing he was having his usual back-and-forth with David in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter with a smirk while David stood in front of him looking unfairly good, a plastic red cup in hand. This was a normal thing for them to do at parties, but somehow Matteo could feel himself blushing about ten times more than he usually did.

“Your face is awfully red Matteo, are you okay?” David teased, earning himself a playful swat on the shoulder.

“It’s hot in here,” the boy responded stubbornly, taking another sip of his drink.

“Oh sorry - should I leave?”

Matteo bit his lip to contain a smile, rolling his eyes playfully. “You’re such an asshole.”

David just laughed, and that sound should not have had Matteo grinning in the way it did.

He was so fucked.

Matteo was 17 when he finally told David that his crush on Jonas was gone. He hadn’t even really been planning to in all honesty, but they were lounging about on Matteo’s bed one evening eating cheese toasties and when David had rolled over to look over at him, something in him just snapped.

“I like don’t like Jonas anymore.”

It had been a miserable day outside, with heavy rain pattering against the room and filling the silence that fell between them after that. Hans was at Michi’s place (Matteo still thought their relationship was more serious than Hans let on) and Linn was visiting family. They were alone there, looking at one another, and Matteo had to take a deep, audible breath to calm himself.

“Oh,” said David after a while, still looking somewhat shell-shocked. “When did that happen?”

Matteo shrugged, trying to seem like he had no idea despite being able to pinpoint the exact moment he had realised - at that party when they were 16. Truthfully, he was hoping deep down that this information would spur David on somehow.

“He’s kind of annoying, honestly.”

David laughed, and the sound was filled with so much relief Matteo couldn’t help but wonder. Was there a change David liked him back?

“Actually - I think you’re the annoying one. He’s nice.”

“Hey!” Matteo accused, smiling softly when David just laughed.

His gaze fell on David again, and for a few lingering moments he had the urge to just lean forward and close the gap between them. The thought scared him so much though that he refrained - he had kissed girls before, but he had never kissed a boy in his life. Let alone his best friend.

“Wanna play Mario Kart?” David asked him with one those mischievous smiles.

Matteo could only nod yes, playfully pushing the boy back onto the bed as he tried to get back and rushing toward the door.

“Fuck you!” he laughed, letting out a playful huff when Matteo just stuck his tongue out and ran towards the living room.

From that moment forth, something noticeably shifted in his interactions with David. There was a new underlying tension there that made him feel fluttery inside, and eventually even the girl crew began to pick up on it.

Sometimes everything would melt away around them when they looked at one another for a lingering moment, both clearly wanting to say more, do more, but not knowing if they should. Sometimes Matteo would laugh particularly hard at something David had said, and for a moment the other boy would just watch him, smiling fondly, looking as though he wanted more than anything for Matteo to this happy all the time. It was no secret that were inseparable at school, constantly exchanging glances, constantly whispering to one another, constantly sitting together. Even Jonas would look over at them sometimes, his smile knowing in a way that had Matteo’s heart leaping into his throat.

David would bite his lip sometimes when they were alone as though he desperately wanted to say something, but didn’t quite know how. Matteo had come dangerously close on multiple occasions to blurting the words ‘what the fuck are we?’ but he had always managed to restrain himself at the last moment.

“So Matteo,” Mia began, her voice gentle as it always was when she was hesitant about asking something.

The boy hummed and looked over at her, pausing his internet surfing for a moment. “Yeah?”

“How’s David?”

He very nearly choked on his own saliva at that, coughing violently and bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. He had come out to Mia about a year ago, but that was the last thing he’d been expecting to hear at that moment.

Mia laughed and shuffled over on the couch to pat him on the back. “Are you okay?” she asked, clearly trying to hide her amusement.

All Matteo could bring himself to do was give a weak nod. “I’m fine. And David’s also fine! I don’t know why you would…” he trailed off uncertainly and bit his lip. Was there any point in trying to deny it anymore?

Mia raised an eyebrow, her eyes shining curiously. “So you don’t like David then?”

Matteo let out a heavy sigh. “Okay yeah...I guess I do.”

She gave him a kind smile at that, clearing sensing his hesitance. Mia had always been that way; sensitive to what other people were feeling, sometimes scarily so.

“That’s great, Matteo. Are you going to tell him?”

Matteo gave a small shrug, not even fully sure himself. He had come ridiculously close so many times it almost felt as though he’d never be able to commit to it.

“We’ll see,” he ended up saying, and Mia nodded in understanding.

“He’s very cute,” she said, giving him a playfully elbow.

Matteo felt his face redden at that. “He is,” he couldn’t help but agree, smiling as Mia gave him a wink and leant her head on his shoulder.

“How’s Alex?” he asked, but the girl just shook her head.

“Lets keep talking about David,” she murmured, her tone pleading.

Matteo was almost inclined to ask what was wrong, but it was obvious that Mia didn’t want to talk about Alex at that moment so he gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze and began talking about David.

It was another rainy evening, and Matteo and David were both rugged up in sweaters trying to do maths homework. Matteo even went the extra mile and wrapped a scarf around his neck, because he had trouble concentrating on maths as it was without feeling cold.

David was leaning over the table, his chin rested on his hands as he watched Matteo write. There was a playful smile on his lips that Matteo couldn’t help but find awfully distracting, but he tried to focus anyway.

“What the fuck is this?” he groaned after a few moments, gesturing down at the page.

David arched a perfect eyebrow as he read over the question. “That, my dear Matteo, is an equation.”

Matteo snorted. “You’re annoying; you know that?”

David’s smile widened. He moved around the table to sit beside Matteo. “Okay...well do you know what type of equation it is?”

Matteo just gave him a blank look, which seemed to tell David what he needed to know.

“It’s a linear equation. They want you plot a graph.”

He would never admit to it, but Matteo did actually know what he was talking about. He was just finding excuses at this point for David to lean into his space, and this happened to be one of them.

“I have no idea what that means.”

David gave him a knowing look, but he leaned over anyway and picked up his pencil.

“First you find the x and y intercepts,” he mumbled, and oh god - David’s face was so close to his own that all he would have to do is dip his head slightly and-

“Like this,” said David, glancing over at the boy with a small smile as he wrote.

Matteo nodded absentmindedly, his gaze shifting involuntarily down to the curve of his lips. They looked so goddamn kissable, Matteo was pretty sure he was about to lose his mind. His eyelashes were long, fluttering delicately, and he wanted nothing more than to tell David how cute he was. So he did.

“You’re really cute.”

David’s alarmed gaze met his, his eyes widened. “Pardon?”

“You’re um...you’re really cute,” he repeated, wondering deep down where the hell this courage was coming from.

“Oh,” said David, softer now. “...Thanks.”

He put the pencil down in favour of shifting in his seat to face Matteo, lightly biting his lip. Matteo’s breath caught in his throat. He quickly got up from his chair, heart racing, and moved over to the kitchen.

“I have leftover pasta in the fridge! Do you want to have a lunch break?”

He glanced back at David, who was still looking at him in that same heated way. Matteo inhaled sharply and turned back around.

“Um, sure,” came the delayed response after a moment, and Matteo busied himself with heating up pasta for them.

Matteo had kissed girls, hell - he had even made out with them, but he had never kissed someone who he genuinely liked. The fact that this person just happened to be his best friend really wasn’t helping matters either. Maybe one day he would pluck up the courage to kiss David.

Today just wasn’t that day.

Matteo was 18 when he finally kissed David.

The sun was setting, colouring the sky an array of oranges and pinks. They were on their way back from the shop, carrying bags of bread and junk food. There was a light breeze ghosting over them both, ruffling their hair and tinging their cheeks red. Everything just felt right.

“I have a new crush,” said Matteo suddenly, which had David looking over at him knowingly.

He could feel a whole swarm of nervous butterflies in his stomach now as he looked back, trying to seem challenging. The streetlamps above their heads flooded the footpath with a warm glow, and it only served to make David even more beautiful than he normally was.

“Oh yeah?” came the teasing response.

Matteo ducked his head bashfully, feeling his face getting redder by the second. David had to be the only person who could Matteo Florenzi feel shy.

“Yeah. There’s this boy...I’ve known him for a while.”

David was smiling wide now as they continued to walk, and Matteo could feel his heart racing. It felt as though everything - all of the heated glances, the touches, the flirty exchanges - had been building up to this point. The point at which one of them would crack and finally say something.

Matteo had definitely cracked.

“Do I know him?” David asked teasingly, his glances and Matteo progressively lingering for longer.

Matteo was smiling too now. “You might. He has dark hair...he likes one direction...he’s a bit of an asshole-”

“Hey!” David accused, and Matteo couldn’t help but laugh. “I only like one song!”

“Tell that to the fucking poster in your closet!”

It was David’s turn to laugh now, and as Matteo looked over at him he could feel the urge to grab this idiot’s face and kiss him until he couldn’t breathe growing stronger.

David’s laughter died down after a few moments. He looked over at Matteo, clearly understanding what the boy was thinking. He had known him for 4 years now, and he had pretty much become an expert in deciphering what every single one of his facial expressions meant. It was admittedly a nuisance sometimes, but Matteo really wouldn’t have it any other way.

When Matteo suddenly came to a halt, stopping right underneath a streetlamp, David did too. David’s eyes were shining with the same confidence that had pulled them together in the first place. He wasn’t hesitant at all; he was simply waiting for Matteo. And Matteo was completely done with holding back.

He stepped forward then, right into David’s space, and the boy gently set down the bags he was holding. There were a few cars zooming by, and the air around them was cold, and Matteo was feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible.

After years of repressing everything he felt, after years of hopelessly pining after his friend, he was about to kiss the boy he liked. After crying alone in his room, after coming close so many times it was surreal, he was leaning into David’s space. He was bringing a gentle hand up to cup the side of his face.

“It’s you,” he mumbled. “It’s been you for two years now.”

”I sure hope so,” David laughed quietly, which had Matteo rolling his eyes and closing the gap between them, bringing their lips together in a gentle kiss. He drew back slightly, before smiling and leaning back in, pressing his lips firmly against David’s this time. David trailed his hands up Matteo’s sides to hang loosely around his neck, pulling him in as close as possible, trying his hardest not to smile too wide. His lips were just as soft as he had imagined, a warm and welcome contrast to the air around them, still sweet from the lollies they’d had earlier. It was David; warm, comforting, inviting, and he was honestly kind of mad at himself for not kissing him sooner because oh man was it good.

“I like you too,” David mumbled between kisses, and it was impossible for Matteo not to smile at that.

Matteo had been waiting for this moment for what felt like the longest time imaginable, but he was unbelievably happy to finally be living in it.

#davenzi #davenzi fanfic #druck #druck fanfic #matteo florenzi #david #datteo #datteo fic #best friends to lovers #AU #my fics

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tracle0 · 5 years

Text

22/11

I was tagged by @joyful-soul-collector (thank you this is possibly one of my favourite tag games) ... Okay also also before I could finish this up, @hyba also tagged me so uh it’s 22/11 instead, ty ty. You two might want to check the tag list cause uhhh you might be there who knows not me c:

The rules are: Answer the 11 (22 this time but hush) questions, make up your own 11 and then tag... I think it’s 11 people but I don’t know 11 people who I haven’t already tagged so...

I sort of started spamming pictures to answer a question so I’m gonna... put the pictures under the cut.

1. Have any of your OCs ever stolen something? What did they steal, and why? Oh yeah sure - the first one I can think of easily is Cain. He used to live on the streets so had to steal to survive. But he’d also work for money. He’s not heartless, just desperate.

Also now I’m thinking about it, Tag would definitely be the kind of guy to just... hey I know I’m meant to hand this gear in but... no-one will miss it so.... he steals to amuse himself with the gadgets he gets.

2. Did you ever have imaginary friends as a kid? What were they like? I copied my sister in having pretend animal friends, but not really. Who needs imaginary friends when you have real-life ones lol I was a lot more liked as a kid.

3. Do any of your OCs have a favorite article of clothing? Why is it their favorite?

Uhhhh

Um.

Yeah, you could say that.

Andy likes his hoodie because it’s a thing that is only his. He didn’t get it from Murdock, I honestly don’t know WHERE he got it from, but it’s his, and the fact he owns anything means a lot to him.

Cain likes his because it’s one of the few things left over from when he was younger and again, it’s his. He didn’t steal it. It belongs to Only Him. He feels comfortable in it.

4. What do you fist develop about a character when you make one up? Do you think of their appearance first? Their personality? Their backstory?

Honestly? It depends. Backstory always comes after, but personality and appearance often intersect. I know for WIP 3 I thought of personality and traits first, and for Collateral it was appearance first. I think for Sonder it was more.. their role in the story? ‘Oh hey this is the antagonist, this is the protagonist, this is the love interest wait I hate romance, okay, side kick’ etc

5. Fluff or Angst?

If it’s not romantic? Fluff. I made myself angsty enough when I was younger, I want more happiness in my life.

6. Remember the color of that dress that everyone was debating about however many years ago? The one that was blue and black, or white and gold? What colors did you see?

The correct colours.

7. Pick your bubbliest, happiest OC. Now tell me what will make them turn into your worst nightmare. I wanna see what makes them the angriest.

Oh boy, let’s see uhhh... Tag. Tag from WIP 3 who is undergoing the process of a name change.

Seeing someone he loves die would twist him. Being isolated would eventually break him. Being unable to do what he loves would definitely upset him also.

Also idk if you’ve heard about it but in his world, there’s a nifty ability called being a silvertongue and I know at least one silvertongue is not gonna exploit this but I also know of another who would even on this19-year-old kid so maybe it’s not by choice but that could make him a nightmare. Just sayin’

8. Now pick your angstiest, most emo OC. And tell me what would make them blush and giggle like an idiot. I wanna see what makes them the happiest.

Okay for this one it’s a tie I write a lot of angsty characters.

>Andy - seeing something just. Really funny. Oh did Sam just fall over in a ridiculous way? Fantastic. That’s actually how they first have a proper conversation. Sam falls over, he laughs, they talk.

>Cain - anything awesome that Duck does. Oh hey what’s up Goose oh you drew this radical picture? /tearing up/ it’s so great oh my gosh you’re so talented. That’s more being happy than giggling but can you see Cain giggling? No, me neither.

9. If you could have any mythical creature for a pet, what would it be?

Dragon, next question.

10. What’s your go-to thing for when you’re hungry but don’t have time/energy to cook something?

Fruit! It is! Very good! And tasty! Apples have a good cronch! Oranges are mmmm juicy. Banana? Yes nice thank you. Oh wow we have strawberries? What a sweet treat. Also healthy!

11. Do any of your OCs have scars? Would they be confident enough to show them in public (like at the beach)?

Oh yeah sure man. Andy’s got multiple from... ‘training’. He doesn't show them off. Cain, Duck and Theo have all been badly burnt on the arms, and Cain ‘’shows it off’’ just because it makes him uncomfortable to have his arms covered. And uh Raya probably has some sort of scar on her knees or elbow from rollerblading. Because you do fall over and it does scar.

And now for Hyba’s questions, lez go bois

1. What cultural value do you see in writing/reading/storytelling/etc.?

I think that without storytelling specifically, humans would be so... mundane? We’d be no different to any other animal on the planet. Creating anything, be that stories or art or literally anything is so... human. To take that away would be like taking away humanities soul. The cultural value isn’t really measurable - storytelling makes up the culture.

2. Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?

Honestly, I have no idea. I try to entertain myself, and if other people like it too, then that’s neat. But because I’m writing for myself, I anticipate everything, so I don’t know if it’s original or not. I know it delivers what I want! But is that readers want? Who knows!

3. As a writer, what would you choose as your mascot/avatar/spirit animal?

Crow. Not even as a writer, just... dude crows are so damn cool.

4. What do you think most characterizes your writing?

I’m not quite sure about the phrasing so uhhhh represents? Google is telling me ‘describes’.

In which case, a midnight fever jolting you out of bed, moments before you could fall asleep, and puppeting you to a writing surface so you can splurge ideas onto it sounds about right. 66% of my WIPs have elements in them that were based on dreams.

5. How do you select the names of your characters?

Mostly? Spite. ‘Oh Trade, you can’t have a bad guy named Andy, all Andy’s are good’ NOPE NOT ANYMORE SUCK IT. I also have a friend who is really good at coming up with names that fit the exact mood of the character so I go to her a lot. Sometimes they’re puns.

6. Choose one of your OCs (or more). How would they want to be seen by others?

Sam from Sonder wants to be seen as someone people can talk to, but also someone who pursues a science because yes sociology is a science to her, shut up, don’t talk to me if you’re going to mention the words ‘paradigm’ or ‘objective’ thank you.

7. How do you find or make time to write? Are you consistent or do you write whenever you get the chance?

Hahahahahhahha.

In the past few months, I’ve not been writing because I’ve had exams. Before that, I wrote at every chance I had - being a student, I had a fair bit of free time during the day, so I’d use that to write. But for a while, it was a nothing on the ‘what has Trade written recently’ chart.

Going up again boiiis

8. What does literary success look like to you? Is it important for you as a writer?

Literary success? That’s... a very interesting question. I think I’d be satisfied and feel successful if one person told me that my book helped them through something.

Jokes on me, I’ve already had that, my books helped me, I have already succeeded, see you losers in hell.

Also fanart but uh who needs fanart when you draw enough for five armies?

9. Are there any scenes that you’ve had to edit out of your WIPs? Can you tell us about them if they don’t spoil the book?

YES oh lord yes okay so in Sonder, chapter 15, I decided around draft 2 that I wanted a scene where Atlas got drunk. I made up reasons for it, asked lots of friends about what it was like to be drunk (as I personally have never been drunk), attended parties to get first-hand research and did so much preparation.

Wrote the scene, was pleased with it, left it to fester. Two years and two drafts later (now), I’ve come back and realised oh hey that scene is utterly useless and de-rails the plot. Time to remove it I guess.

I rationalise it as ‘well you wrote it and you had fun but it’s not needed, move on’ and that works well for me.

10. Would you feel comfortable publishing or sharing your writing using your real name, or would you prefer a pseudonym?

Pseudonym 100%. As cool as it would be to be able to go ‘hey I wrote this’ to people, the terrifying ordeal of being known is horrific, and people being able to track all my past activity from when I was literally seven is my worst nightmare. I wouldn’t even tell family or friends if I could get away with it.

‘Hey [real name], there’s a book at Waterstones called Sonder? With the exact same characters, plot and writing style as you have? But it’s under [pseudonym]?’ ‘oh hey, really that’s wild. Anyway,’

11. When writing, do you try more to be original or do you prefer to deliver to readers what they want? Do you think that a book can do both? Which is more important to you as a writer?

Oh hey, this is like question two but MORE. Standing by my previous answer, I think a book can do both - people want a happy ending, usually, but you can always be original in how you do that. No two stories can be told in exactly the same way. And hey - even if people do guess what’s coming up, that’s good.

As a writer? It’s most important to entertain. I don’t try and catch people out, I just deliver the story I have in my head and then edit it mercilessly until I’m pleased.

Questions!

1) Design a mask for an OC to wear. Would it cover their whole face? Is it a mascarade mask? Is it fancy or simple? Bonus cool kid points if you draw it.

2) Which OCs like spicy food?

3) Which OCs can take care of a plant - an orchid, to be exact?

4) Do you tell stories in any other medium beyond writing? eg: art or roleplay or...?

5) Do you have any irl items that you have because ‘oh dude this is something that’d totally be in my story’? Can I see them?

6) What’s the first book you remember buying?

7) Do you have any weird collections of things? As an example, I have a skull collection and a collection of... what’s best described as doll body parts. Anything just... weird that you have a lot of? Can I see it?

8) Which OC gets distracted by watching birds and which OC is like ‘dude stop watching the birds we’ve got STUFF TO DO’

9) Have you ever met a published author? Who?

10) Are you a person who likes tea or are you a person who prefers coffee? If the latter - dude c’mon tea is so much better smh

11) Have you backed up your files recently? Do it now. Please, for the love of god, back up your files.

Tagging!

@hyba @joyful-soul-collector (dunno if I’m allowed to tag the people who tagged me but fukkit here’s some more questions you eggs) @kaatiba @albatris @timetravelingpigeon @note-katha (hi we have barely interacted but nice new username) @nymph-of-diana (on your main if you want, idm c:) @writing-and-nutmeg @futurity-writing @osteoprecocious and @thatfizzyyyy

Honestly, the fact I made it to 11 is - wowza. Uhhh if you don’t want to then don’t, if you do want to then PLEASE do and then tag me so I can see your answers, I’m curious.

Ciao.

#writing #am writing #my writing #writerblr #writeblr #tagged in #Wow this went on #but seriously this is possibly my favourite tag game #coming up with questions is hard but #hey piece of advice #put stuff you love into the questions #I like masks for example #so #questions about masks lezgo

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mario-sonic-dimensional-shift · 5 years

Text

Mario & Sonic: Dimensional Shift - Chapter 1: The Cause Pt. 1

Doctor Eggman barges through the doors of his base, the tips of his mustache singed and a grizzly scowl on his face. He stomps over to his supercomputer and begins to type angrily, muttering insults and swears under his breath.

Orbot rolls over to Eggman and moves to his side. “What’s wrong, boss? Did your plans surprisingly fail again?”

Eggman backhands Orbot away with a grunt. “Quiet you! I don’t need attitude from scrap metal like you!”

Cubot quickly moves to Eggman’s other side. “Aw, don’t worry boss! You’ll get it next time, for sure! One hundred and eight times the charm, right?”

“Grr, I said SHUT IT!” Eggman stands up and kicks Cubot, who reverts into his cube form before hitting the wall. Eggman begins to pace about the room. “I could conquer this world anytime I wanted! If it wasn’t for that… that… blue nuisance!” He kicks some equipment over in anger. “It’s unfair! It’s frustrating! I can’t conquer my own planet, I can’t conquer alien planets, what am I supposed to do to get a win for once!?”

“Too bad you can’t live in a universe where there’s no Sonic,” Orbot says as he lazily lies on his side. “Now that would be a perfect universe. But alas, you seem to be doomed to a life of constant failure. How about some tea to calm down? I suggest chamomile.”

Eggman stops pacing. “Wait, say that again.”

“Chamomile tea? It’s known to have calming properties to soothe people.”

“No, the other thing.”

“Oh, you mean how you are stuck being a constant failure?”

Eggman hits Orbot over the head. “No Dumbot!! The part where you mentioned a universe without Sonic!” His glasses glint for a moment as he rushes over to his computer. “That gives me a wonderful idea!”

“What’re you gonna do, boss? Erase Sonic from the universe?” Cubot asks.

“You think I haven’t tried that? What do you think I’ve been doing all these years? I’ve tried bending reality to defeat him, and every single time he’s found a way to overcome it! No, I have to go farther! Farther than ever before! I must reach into another universe!”

“Dimensional travel?” Orbot tilts his head. “Now this sounds familiar. Hasn’t such a feat been accomplished already before?”

“Indeed, by Sonic’s friend, Blaze,” Eggman articulates, “However, from what I’ve observed, she only has the knowledge of transporting herself and a few others between dimensions. I also have experience with dimensional travel, from when I worked with my counterpart from Blaze’s universe. But this time it’s different. I want to bring an entire army through to an entirely different dimension! I’ll conquer their world, expand my army, and create my Eggman Empire, with no Sonic to stop me! And then, when I’ve become unstoppable, I’ll return and destroy Sonic with my vast new army! It’s foolproof! Ohohoho!”

Cubot breaks the Doctor’s laughter. “But boss, how are you gonna do that? That seems like a lot of power you’re gonna need, and to power that you’re gonna need-”

“The Chaos Emeralds,” Eggman interrupts. “By my calculations, I’ll need at least a few of them for this project.” He begins to stroke his mustache as he thinks for a moment. “Or perhaps, a single large Emerald. Yes… And I know just the sucker to trick for it!”

------

A new morning sun overlooks a series of grassy hills, with shadows of several large puffy clouds providing shade over the countryside. The grass sways gently from side to side over the beautiful spring hills. The gentle breeze is cut off by a sudden blue wind, zipping over one hill to the next, before coming to a stop upon a wonderful hill that overlooks the landscape.

Sonic looks over the area with a smile as he sits upon the grass, taking out a packed lunch. He lets out a sigh of relaxation as he lays down and rest his eyes, crossing his legs and putting his hands behind his head. “Man, it’s been a while since I’ve taken some time to myself. It’s nice. It’s good to remind myself that I’m able to slow down and take in the world around me.”

As Sonic sinks into relaxation, his empty mind is broken by the sound of his telecommunicator. He pulls it out and presses the button to talk. “You’ve reached Sonic the Hedgehog, please leave a message after the BA-WONK,” he says with a joking tone.

“Sonic, you need to come over to my lab as soon as you can,” Tails says through the telecommunicator. “Something urgent has come up.”

“How urgent can it be? We just stopped Eggman a few weeks ago, right? I think we’re good for now.”

“Sonic, it’s Silver. He’s come back from the future again.”

Sonic’s eyes snap open as the gravity sets in. Silver coming usually meant something was on its way. “Right, I’m on my way.” He jumps up, pops the chili dog he packed quickly into his mouth, and makes haste to the lab.

-------

The door to Tail’s lab slams open as Sonic rushes in, stopping on a dime right before he would make impact with a table. He straightens up and walks over to the other members of the room, consisting of Tails and Silver.

“Hey guys, came as fast as I could,” Sonic says. “So what world-breaking event are we dealing with this time, huh? Can we make a bet? I wanna bet Tails ten rings it has something to do with big purple worms. Oh, I bet they spit acid from their mouths!”

Silver shrugs a little bit. “I wish it was that simple. At least purple worms could be dealt with. This time it’s kind of just… weird. Usually the bad futures I return to are on fire, or are in some sort of eternal darkness. But when I returned to my time it was… uh… odd. There were tall mushrooms planted everywhere, and the only inhabitants there was these odd robot creatures. They were like robots that looked like brown mushrooms and turtles. Here, I drew a picture of what they kind of look like.” He holds up a crudely drawn picture of a brown mushroom robot with feet attached to its body.

“Dude, you suck at drawing.” Sonic says as he snickered behind his hand.

Silver looks a little dejected by this comment. “Okay, I know it’s not the best, but it’s not far off from what it actually looks like. It was weird, these things just wandered around aimlessly, but when they saw me they got aggressive and slowly charged at me. They didn’t pose much threat, but I couldn’t communicate with them at all. Any civilizations I found were just… ruins. I couldn’t find any living person. I didn’t know what to do, so I came back to the past to find the answer.”

“No problem at all!” Sonic wags his finger confidently. “You said they were robots, right? All signs point to Eggman, obviously! It always does. We just gotta go find him again, and kick his butt like we always do!”

“Hang on Sonic,” Tails interjects. “I don’t think we should necessarily jump to that conclusion just yet. First of all, I don’t think mushrooms are really Eggman’s style of choice for decoration. And look at this robot design, it’s so impractical! It doesn’t even have hands. Unless it was a giant fish robot, I know that Eggman wouldn’t create a robot that couldn’t even hold a blaster or have some sort of bladed appendages.”

Sonic rubs the tip of his nose with his finger. “Hm, I guess you’re right about that, Tails. But on the other hand, we don’t have any other leads on who it could possibly be. Do we know anyone who might know a possible villain with an interest for weird mushroom decoration? Where’s Amy at?”

“She’s off doing reconstruction in Jasmine Town right now,” Tails replies.

“Hm, that’s a few days run at least. How about the Chaotix?”

“Last I heard, off solving a case at Casino Park.”

“Shadow or Rouge?”

“You know we can’t find them unless they want us to find them.”

“Well that’s disheartening. And we know that Knuckles is on Angel Island, so it’s not like he would know anything special.”

Just then, a foot kicks open the door to the lab, and a familiar red echidna barges inside. “Guys, I have bad news! Eggman is planning to steal the Chaos Emeralds! We have to stop him!”

Sonic raises an eyebrow. “Well, speak of Black Doom, we were just talking about you, Knuckles. A hello would have been nice, you know. How do you know Eggman is gonna steal the emeralds?”

“I got this letter, it’s a tip that Eggman plans to steal a Chaos Emerald in Chun-Nan soon! We have to hurry! Come on Tails, fire up the Tornado!” Knuckles exclaims.

Tails strokes his chin. “Chun-Nan? That’s halfway across the world. I feel like he would try to find something a little closer, right? Knuckles, let me see that letter.” He takes the letter from Knuckles and reads it over.

“Who gave you this letter, Knuckles?” Silver asks.

“Not sure, I found it on the ground near the temple. I assume it’s from someone who wanted to warn me about Eggman’s next plan. I had a gut feeling I had to take action, and I always trust my gut.”

“So let me get this straight,” Sonic says as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You got an anonymous letter from someone that somehow got onto your floating island telling you to go halfway across the world? Is that about right?”

“Yeah, that’s the gist of it.”

Sonic, Tails, and Silver all look at each other with disappointment but not surprise.

Tails grabs his keys and opens his hanger bay. “Okay, let’s get into the Tornado. We’re going to Angel Island, everyone.”

Knuckles looks shocked. “Wait, why?! We need to get to Chun-Nan! Why are we going to Angel Island?”

“Because you just got duped, dude,” Sonic says with a small smirk.

“What?! What do you mean?!”

“Eggman totally hoodwinked you. He’s probably got the Master Emerald as we speak.”

“No way! I put the Master Emerald in a secret place whenever I have to leave the island!” Knuckles says, his face now red with embarrassment.

“Is it under the temple?” Sonic says with a raised eyebrow.

“Wait, how did you-”

“Yeah, everyone knows you put it under the temple.”

Knuckles is now fuming with anger. “That- that two timing son of a lizard! I’m gonna tear him to shreds!” He charges out to the hanger bay and climbs into the Tornado. “Come on! Hurry up!”

Silver shrugs to himself as he follows Sonic and Tails out to the plane. “Wow, and I thought I was manipulated easily.”

----

After a quick trip to the floating Angel Island, Tails lands the Tornado right outside the temple where the Master Emerald resides. Knuckles is quick to jump out and makes a mad dash to the altar. His entrance is followed by a loud “GAH” and a few swears.

The rest of the gang follows inside to find Knuckles on his hands and knees next to an empty alter. Sonic comes next to him and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, buddy. I know this sucks, but I’m surprised you got manipulated so easily. You’re not as gullible as that usually, what happened?”

“I- I don’t know… I just got a gut feeling and I just had the overwhelming urge to try and stop Eggman. I guess I just wanted to believe that I needed to help for the greater good…”

Silver looks over the scene of the crime. “Well whatever happened, it looks like Eggman was able to grab the Master Emerald thanks to your absence.”

Knuckles stands up all of a sudden and gets real close to Silver’s face. “You think I don’t know that, silver boy?! Don’t think you can talk down to me just because I made a mistake!”

Silver backs up a little bit. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t think that just because you have fancy mind powers and can time travel that you can act like you’re better than me!” Knuckles pokes Silver in the chest lightly, pushing him back into a wall. “I don’t need powers to pulverize you any day!”

Sonic moves in between Silver and Knuckles, pushing Knuckles back to give some space between them. “Knuckles, calm down! He wasn’t trying to insult you, he was just making an observation. Don’t take out your anger on him because of what Eggman did.”

Knuckles crosses his arms in annoyance. “Whatever. How do we even know it was Eggman, anyway? I could name a few treasure thieves off the top of my head, especially a certain batty burglar.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Tails pipes up. “Come take a look at what I found on the ground.” He holds up a small red card sporting a familiar logo of a smiling mustached head, along with the words “SUCKER!” etched into the back.

“Yup, that’s definitely Eggman’s calling card,” Sonic says, taking the card and observing it. “He’s not the sneakiest thief, that’s for sure.”

Knuckles punches his fists together. “What a smug little-! That’s it! I say we march right over to his base and kick him in his nuts and bolts!”

“I wish we could,” Tails says. “But we have no idea where he’s located right now. He changes bases every few months, so he could be just about anywhere right now.”

A flirtatious voice breaks through the room in response to Tails. “Maybe I could be of assistance with that?”

Everyone looks up to the ceiling to see Rouge the Bat hanging upside down with a grin, as she jumps off and floats down the floor. “Long time no see, boys.”

“Rouge! What are you doing here?” Tails asks with delight. Knuckles looks even more peeved now.

“I’ve been following Eggman around for a few days. He’s been a pretty busy man lately. Lots of Black Market purchases of illegal materials. I followed him to Angel Island, where big red here fell for a letter that he wrote in 3 minutes. I planted a tracker on his ship as he was stealing the Master Emerald, and when I saw that you all were on your way over, I decided to stick around for a chat.”

“Well that’s convenient,” Sonic remarks.

“Wait, how did you know we were coming?” Tails asks.

“I also might have planted a tracker on the Tornado. Maybe, maybe not.” Rouge winks playfully as Tails furrows his eyebrows.

“So, will you be able to help us at all?” Silver asks. “Please, we’ll need any information you can give!”

“I could, but sadly, my feelings are very hurt because of what the red meanie said about me.” She makes a eyes-crying motion towards Knuckles, who scowls in response. “Don’t you know it’s impolite to talk about a lady behind her back?”

“Tch. Don’t act like you’re so superior. You know you would snatch the Master Emerald without hesitation given the chance. You might be a spy, but at the heart you’re still a petty thief.” Knuckles crosses his arms and turns away from Rouge.

“Oh Knuckles, do you truly think so little of me? I thought we were friends, after everything we’ve been through together. And friends help friends, right?”

Knuckles rolls his eyes. “Ha! I know what that means! You want something from us, right? You would never help us out of the ‘kindness of your heart.’”

“Of course I would! I don’t want anything right now, I just want something the Doctor has acquired as of recently.” Rouge brings up a holographic image from her bracelet, showing an image of a round blue gem with a white star on the center. “We call this beauty the Hyperspace Sapphire. It’s a magical stone that, when harnessed properly, can transport the user across space and dimensions, spanning from continents to distant planets.”

“So you want us to secure this stone when we fight Eggman, and in return you’ll give us the location to his base?” Sonic reiterates.

“Bingo, blue.”

Sonic puts his arm out for a handshake. “Sounds good to me!”

Knuckles stands in front of Sonic before he can shakes Rouge’s hand. “Hold on! Do you really think we can trust her about this? Who knows what she’s planning to do with that gem!”

Sonic pats Knuckles on the shoulder and smiles. “C’mon, Knux, let’s have a little faith here. Where are we without trust, right?” He pushes Knuckles aside gently and he shakes Rouge’s hand.

Rouge smiles. “Thank you Sonic, I’m glad someone trusts me.” She pulls away and brings up an image of a location on a map. “The Doctor is located here, in the middle of a dense jungle. You won’t be able to land your plane anywhere inside, only on a town just outside.” She drops the image and begins to head for the door. “I might meet you there later, who knows?”

Sonic gives a thumbs up to Rouge. “Thanks a lot, Rouge. Glad we can count on you.” He gets an idea before Rouge leaves. “Oh, wait! Would you be able to contact Shadow to meet us there? He could be a big help to us, whatever we’re dealing with.”

“What makes you think he’ll help you guys out here? He’s not much of a team player, you know.”

“I know, I just thought he might want a piece of the action. Plus, I bet I could totally get there faster and take out Eggman before he could have a chance!”

Rouge laughs behind her hand and smiles. “You got it, Blue. I’ll give him a call. Don’t get your hopes up, though.” She says before sauntering out of the room.

Sonic grins as he looks at the other members of his team. “Well guys, are we ready to fry this egg once more?”

“I’m ready!” Tails exclaims with a jump.

Silver clenches his fist in a heroic way. “I’ll make sure that we stop Eggman’s plot and save the future!”

Knuckles crosses his arms and taps his foot. “I need to take some of this anger out on some robots soon, or else I’m gonna go crazy.”

Sonic nods his head with resolve. “All right! I just hope we can quash this issue before it turns into something big. Let’s go, everyone!”

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #super mario #tails the fox #knuckles the echidna #silver the hedgehog #eggman #msds #ch 1 #rouge the bat

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grimastiddies · 5 years

Text

Questions and form made by @goddess-of-war-nyka

1. Introduce your summoner. –

Name: Caitlin Age: 25 Height: 5′5″ Weight: 160lbs Sexuality: Bisexual Eye Color: Dark brown, nearly black Hair Color: Red Nationality: American Hobbies: Singing, drawing, playing guitar

Caitlin is from the Midwest, in the Chicago area. She lives in an apartment nearby her family, which consists of her mom, dad, her older sister, younger sister, and her younger brother. She has a shiba inu named Chiyo! Her family is extremely important to her, they’re all really tight. While in Askr, she misses them terribly.

Her life is good, but…ultimately, boring. She went to college and graduated, but hasn’t done anything with her degree. Her day job is boring and unfulfilling, and generally she feels like she’s stuck in a rut where she just sort of…exists. She suffers from anxiety and depression, and that’s greatly affecting her motivation. If it weren’t for her side job, she’d probably be really depressed. In her downtime, she performs as a Disney Princess for birthday parties! The characters she plays includes Rapunzel, Elsa, Anna, and Aurora. She takes this job very seriously, and it actually is a primary source of income for her. She gets hired a lot, but it’s still not quite what she wants to be doing with her life. Sometimes she’ll fill in as a guitarist in her friend’s band when they need the help.

2. How did they come to Askr?

She was heading to a show when she was summoned to Askr. She was in her car schlepping a lot of their equipment and all of it ended up in Askr with her, along with her car, her laptop, phone, some spare clothes, makeup, and all of her costumes. She has a fair amount of things from her world on hand, which Heroes like to play with… her car especially. Unfortunately it broke on the way over, so it would have to be fixed if anyone wanted to actually drive it.

3. What are their favourite hobbies? –

She enjoys playing music! She’s a talented guitar player and can play a fair few instruments at a basic level. Probably took some piano lessons at school or something. She sings too, but it far to shy to sing for the heroes so that’s more of a secret talent unless you’re a peeping tom and spy on her in the baths.

Drawing is a hobby, she enjoys doodling to relieve stress. Drawing practice always took a back seat to music, though, so she’s not like... super good at it, but it’s something she enjoys. She probably has a notebook she carries around that she doodles in. The Morgans are convinced it’s full of strategy secrets and try to steal it, but in reality it’s like... silly pictures of cats in socks.

4. Does your summoner have any bad habits that the heroes try to help them through? –

Confidence issues for sure. This seems to be a common theme among Summoners, and she’s really no different. She thinks the heroes are all amazing, wonderful people and that she simply pales in comparison. Her powers are a blessing from the Breidablik, so the praise she gets as the Summoner makes her feel like a liar. They’re praising Kiran, not her, she feels.

She really beats herself up inside when a plan fails.

Also frets over whether or not heroes actually like her, or if they’re just influenced by their contract.

Low key feels ugly in comparison to the other women, keeps that to herself though.

5. How close is your summoner to their heroes? –

Very close I’d say. As much as she worries, she takes her job as the Summoner seriously and does her best to take care of everyone. Besides, most of the heroes are such likable people it would be hard not to make friends!! She loves everyone dearly.

6. Does your summoner struggle with being a tactician? –

Nah, the Breidablik grants her powers that make her a great tactician.

The Breidablik houses the spirit of a Valkyrie, a legendary entity who chooses who lives and who dies on the battlefield. This spirit, known as Kiran, was a divine blessing bestowed upon Askr long ago by the Gods to protect the kingdom. The Breidablik itself was given to a legendary hero, the only person who can wield it. Kiran resides within the Breidablik and gives it and the Hero their powers. Caitlin is a reincarnation of this hero who was summoned to Askr in its time of need. The Breidablik’s powers include:

Summoning Heroes.

Sight - the ability to see the battlefield and form strategy.

Command - the ability to bend Heroes to their will.

Valkyrie Drive - Caitlin gets possessed by the Valkyrie spirit, and is given a short burst of incredible strength and magic. However, the Summoner needs to recover for a while afterwards.

Still working on the fine details with this so yeah lmao--

7. How did your summoner react during their first time summoning? –

“WHAT THE FU-”

Panic for sure.

What the fuck is happening? Where am I? You want me to do what now? What? WHAT???? She calms down eventually, but being plucked from your world and then being told to do stuff and then FIGHT is scary as fuck imo and she’s absolutely overwhelmed for a bit.

8. How does your summoner react to summoning now? –

“Man, I have to summon now... ugh, it makes me so tired, do I have to...??”

9. How well do they adjust to life in Askr? –

Pretty well, the Order is helpful and eager to make her feel welcome and comfortable.

10. How long have they been a summoner? –

Since the beginning of the game...? LMAO- Uhh, idk she’s summoned when Anna summons in game, so she’s not brought in at any special time.

11. Who’s your summoner’s main team? –

Grima, Robin, Alfonse, Veronica.

12. Who’s your summoner’s S support? –

Alfonse hehe...

13. How was your Summoner and ally support building to S support?–

HONESTLY she doesn’t get with Alfonse so it must just be like.... a strong... bond of friendship....??? I have given this 0 thought lmao sorry--

14. How many allies have s support with your summoner? –

Grima obviously heheheheheeh-- that’s like the “canon” pair, but there’s also potential for Alfonse and Bruno... probably as a poly because Bruno and Alfonse are cute as FUCK together djskldjals

But then again I have Grima supported with Alfonse so Cait/Grima/Alfonse COULD be a thing......... god dude idk I’m just thirsty af yall know me.

15. What are your top 4 ally x ally supports? –

16. What does your summoner miss from home? – THE INTERNET would make it SO MUCH EASIER to look up all of the heroes’ backstories and searching for Askran/Nordic mythology homygod.

17. If they could bring one thing from home with them what would it be? – T h e I n t e r n e t.

18. Is your summoner’s robe unique? –

19. Who are your fellow summoner friends? –

@terra-haven‘s Sapphire, @vince-prime‘s Kuma, @lunalove25‘s Luna, among others hehe

20. What does your summoner wear if during their down time? –

UHHHH comfy stuff. Probably walks around in minimal clothing LMAO-- Long shirts/sweaters, after a while she’s forced to wear leggings underneath. She has a more high matenance wardrobe back home, but in Askr comfort is king.

21. How do they handle merging heroes or sending them home? –

Idk, in Cait’s storyverse I don’t think merging and sending people home would really be a thing...? Not sure how I wanna go about handling this tbh??? I think if she were to get dupes, it would just end up being a failed summon or something. Or maybe it would manifest as a item that powers up certain heroes. I think she could send heroes home but.... idk, the hero would have to consent.

22. What abilities/weapons do they have? –

When in Valkyrie mode the Breidablik turns into a lance, but otherwise nothing out of the ordinary for a Summoner.

23. Would your summoner like to know magic? –

Summoning is totally a type of magic, so I think that Summoners in general have an innate talent for magic and can learn it. Caitlin would totally be interested, magic is dope as fuuuuuck.

24. Are they able to hold their own in a fight? –

LMAO nah, not really. She tries and gets lucky, but that luck comes from summoner valkyrie powers lmao-

25. How many heroes have you acquired? I’m too lazy to open the app and check lmao sorryyy

26. What book has been the hardest? Emotional or battle-wise. –

Book 3 has me fucking shook fam.

27. If your summoner went into battle what would be there class? –

Singer for sure.

28. Are there any heroes they clash with? –

Honestly??? Nah, she’s not super interested in actively fighting with anyone I don’t think.I mean I think there’s the obvious heroes no one really LOVES but I think Cait is the type to find them all amusing in their own way. Looooves to mess with Narcian. Valter’s just creepy but in almost a sort of entertaining way, especially since she’s in charge and he can’t actually do anything to her.

I love Berkut but I can see Cait being very eager to put him in his place.

29. Which hero have you pumped more into? –

Grima, Alfonse.

30. Which hero do you get a lot of while summoning? –

Not sure, don’t really pay that much attention.

31. Which heroes have they adopted? –

ALL OF THE KIDS. Who let these children fight? NO WAR FOR KIDDIES NO NO NO-- Loves dragons best hehe

32. Do they participate in voting gauntlets? –

Keeps tabs on them, doesn’t really care that much.

33. How do they handle their orbs? –

“TIME TO YOLO SUMMON BABY”

34. What hero do you wanna see in Fire Emblem Heroes? –

The whole cast of Awakening blz-

35. Will your summoner stay in Askr? Nifl? Muspell? Hel? Embla? –

HM. A good question lmaooooo

grima/cait is my self indulgent end game so uh not sure uhhhhhh

I think she’d convince him to come back home with her tbh. she wouldn’t want to stay in Zenith forever. Loves her family too much to just stay forever.

36. What is your Summoner life like years later if they stayed? Askr. Nifl. Muspell. Hel. Embla. –

She wouldn’t stay, she’d go home for sure.

37. Summoner’s family reacting to your summoner’s significant other?–

UHHHH fuck dude I have no fucking clue LMAO-- this thing is full of shit i never considered???

They’d probably be justifiably worried--

38. In a twist of fate, if your summoner could change one thing what would it be? –

Probably making Bruno join the order or something, she’s salty he leaves.

#ask game #caitlin

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connywrites · 5 years

Text

gala and delilahs 2

start

'Come on, Leo,' she beckoned from the other side of the phone conversation.

'I wanna see you again. And touch you,' she said in her typical needy voice; he could virtually feel her bedroom eyes from her speaking tone, low and sultry, intending to turn him on.

'The android can join if you want.' Startled with a shocked look in his eyes, he almost dropped the phone.

"That's sick! I'm straight, and besides, that'd be like if I invited your sister in on it when we banged." His mind raced as he considered how nasty she might be if given the chance, deciding to speak before she tried to pull him into something else.

"Forget I said that. Look, I'm really trying to do this for real this time, and I can't do that if you wanna go back to the bar. It's asking for trouble and you know that." His voice held alarm most of all, feeling panicked more than he'd anticipated over the idea. Maybe Markus was right about the suggestion of hanging up before things became too much.

"Besides, I'm not really looking to date right now. All that lovey-dovey shit gets me off track, and this is my life now."

'Who said anything about dating?' There was practically a scoff in her tone, and the realization dawned that he should have known she wanted to meet up for sex.

'I know you're getting better, baby. I am too. It's been months. Don't you want to see me again?' Red flags flared in his mind while she snaked her way in with words, and part of him wished she wouldn't try so hard. Yet he couldn't help still wanting to give her the chance, considering maybe she didn't know better and it was another bad habit she was trying to break - it was hard to tell and he had to give her the benefit of the doubt.

'I know Markus is helping you and all, but aren't you lonely?' The huskiness in her voice made him chew his lip and shift in his seat as the temptation rose to touch himself to her voice, like he did in the motel rooms while she called him on work break- but he couldn't give into that kind of thing anymore, or he'd be under her thumb all over again.

"Keep this up and I'll hang up and block your number. I mean it." She made an ugly sound and suddenly he felt used the same way as he had before.

"If you're calling for sex, you've got a long list for that. I know I'm not special." She went quiet, and he could imagine her infamous pout from where he was.

'Alright. I'm sorry. I guess it's me that's lonely.' Appreciating her honesty, he felt the metaphorical bristles retract while his frustration simmered down, but he reminded himself to keep his guard up.

"I told you, you can come over, but no one's getting naked. I respect this place too much for that. No kissing. Nothing." It almost hurt him to say it, and she knew it too, but they both understood that the way he was setting boundaries was important, and no matter how much she wanted him back, she respected that.

'How do you do it? Stay inside all the time, don't go on dates... I mean, I don't drink as much but I feel like I'm losing my fucking mind without crystal. Aren't you?' Leo laughed.

"I'd need a mind left to lose," he joked, and she responded with one of her usual soft hehs of not finding his self-deprecation funny, but half-laughing so he wouldn't feel awkward or bad in the silence - he was a bit weird like that, and she'd adjusted to work around it.

"For real, it sucks sometimes, but it's not so bad. Dad's place is a lot nicer when I'm living here and not on the streets with an eviction notice, you know?"

'Sure. I thought maybe you'd want some fresh air, but you're doing better than me with the whole thing. Maybe we can meet for lunch sometime?'

"Lunch here," he repeated knowingly.

"Much as I miss the places we went to and the food we ate over at Munchkin's, I made a deal and I'm sticking to it. Plus, Markus cooks good food, you'd be surprised. I know I was." She giggled, and he felt his heart flutter.

'Isn't he supposed to be good at that stuff? I mean...' not wanting to say the wrong thing on the subject, she gave him room to correct her. It was yet again more respect than she'd offered in the past; maybe she really was shaping up, after all.

"Yeah, he's good at a lot of stuff. He cooks, he plays piano, he paints. It's kinda relaxing but I can't do any of that shit." He felt his own ego ache again as he remembered he didn't have any talents.

'That's okay, baby, you don't have to be able to cook or draw to impress anybody. The stuff you're doing on your own is pretty cool.' Blinking, he was struck silent in a moment of thought, unused to hearing any compliments or congratulations - even Markus never granted him that.

"I... what?"

'I know how you feel, Leo. About school or art or whatever. But it's all fake anyway. Your dad had a talent and made good money off of it, but you're not a bad person because you can't.' The urge to cry struck him all over again, but he neglected it, standing up to wander to the kitchen and grab a brownie off the platter.

"... Thanks." He stuffed it in his mouth in a moment of heightened nerves.

'Did you want to try to do the school thing? Like, again, it's totally useless unless you want to go to college or whatever. Is there anything you want to try?' He shrugged, despite conversing to her with voice alone.

"Not really."

'What about the garden? I know you don't like hearing it because it's not manly or whatever, but there's a nursery downtown that's hiring. Maybe you could try there.' Discomfort welled in his chest as the embarrassment crept up on him, letting out a little sigh.

"I don't do gardening."

'You don't have to, but you know your flowers a little bit. Smile and sell a few things, get some air and your own money in your pockets. As much as I know you like mooching off the rich,' she said half-joking, half-serious, 'it can't feel good to rely on it when you're almost thirty.' He cringed at the mention of his age.

"Jeeze, don't remind me. Anyway, I don't know that much, and I can't pronounce half the names anyway."

'See, Leo, that's what's stopping you. You take on a challenge when you want to prove yourself right, but if you think you're wrong, you give up before you try. You can't keep living like that, dude.' Silent, he looked off to the side, leaving the other half of the brownie on the counter as he'd lost his appetite.

"I've tried that shit before. It never works out. Remember my last job?"

'Well I think it'll go smoother if you can think straight, you know.' Leo sighed, pinching his nose in frustration.

"I know. But I've still got a dirty ass criminal file and no experience to back me up. At almost thirty," he snapped, before abruptly regretting it.

"Ugh, I'm sorry, I just don't know if I'm ready for anything like that yet."

'Don't you want to start looking after yourself? You can't rely on that an...er, person, for everything.'

"I know that," he spat, feeling his agitation grow.

"I don't wanna talk about it, okay? It's... still a sore subject and I don't like thinking about it." She paused, and he knew she was debating whether to push it or not.

'Maybe try something easier? Telemarketing is easy, and you're real good at annoying people,' she said with a laugh, though it was a bit awkward as she was never sure if he'd take offense or not. Luckily, this time, he laughed, even if it was pitiful.

"Yeah, I love sitting on my ass all day and harassing people. Look, I'm not worried about it. Yeah, one day I want a car and a job and a dog, live the American dream and all that. But not yet. I'm not that successful and I don’t think I ever will be." He knew she rolled her eyes by the pause.

'Okay, Leo. Take it at your own pace. You're doing a lot already; I just know you can do so much more. You've got time, though.' This time, he let out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, you too. Look, I gotta go. Call me back later and maybe we can meet up, but just tell me if you wanna come chill. I can like, pay for gas and shit. Well, not me, but you know." She let out a soft giggle, and he felt a bit better already.

'Yeah, don't bust up my car this time and I won't take your money and kick you out. Deal?' There was a grunt and a snort before he laughed this time, proving it was genuine.

"Joke's on you, can't kick me out of my new home or your car. Suck on that."

'Oh, please,' she teased with a purr that made him turn red from his ears to his shoulders.

"A...anyway. Later, Gal."

'Have a good evening, Leo. You can call me back next time, okay? I really did just miss you.' Going silent, he hesitated.

"I miss you too. I'll call you back later. And uh, hey. Thanks."

'Goodnight, Leo.' Pulling the device away from his face, he hadn't noticed the time until she said night, considering the fact it was 8:08. Not any time in particular, and it still only really registered to him as numbers for the most part, but he tried to fathom the idea of 'early night' and what it might mean for someone with a consistent schedule. Glancing at his contacts, gloom loomed over him as he realized all that was left now was her and Markus' number, as he'd lost touch with whoever he'd considered his friends in the past, and deleted Carl's number right after the death. It made his phone look strangely empty, prompting him to swipe it locked and set it aside.

"How'd it go?" He nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw Markus in the doorway, taking a second to catch his breath.

"Don't do that," he told him as if he could help it.

"Sorry. I'll ring a bell next time." Leo rolled his eyes, leaning his weight against the table and drumming his fingers against the surface as he grew antsy.

"Uh, good. Mostly. I dunno. She's doing a lot better, but she's still... trying old stuff, I guess." Markus dipped his head with a respectable nod.

"Well, she was. I shut her down and she knocked it off, and that's... good." Markus respected how strange and awkward Leo must have felt, giving him the space he seemed to need as he stopped a few feet away from him.

"You're keeping your boundaries, then. That's good." Leo's eyes averted to look at the ground as he wiggled in place, another strange habit he seemed to have.

"You're restless, and it's getting late. Are you still trying for a bedtime routine?" Leo sighed, nodding.

"Trying," he parroted for emphasis.

"Laying in bed all night doesn't sound as relaxing as it seems. I don't think I can do that now, there's too much on my mind." Markus accepted his words with no commentary.

"Try some chamomile tea. The kind we have has Valerian root, another natural sedative. Would you like me to make you a cup?" Leo made a face - he'd never liked the taste of hot tea - but was more willing to try than he usually would be. Maybe Markus caught onto that and that was why he asked.

"Sure. Why not. Worst that happens is it doesn't work, right?"

"I think you'll be surprised." Maneuvering around him, Markus headed towards the kitchen to put the water in the kettle to boil.

“Oh, don’t use that,” he said with more sharpness than he intended, prompting Markus to turn around with a confused look.

“I mean. Can you not?” The phrasing was clunky on his tongue.

“The squeal from those things drives me nuts.”

#watch me get lazier as i post these smdh #dbh: leo manfred #dbh: markus #dbh: oc

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lillaxtrigger · 5 years

Text

Young Hope: Chapter 19 (Pt4)

From within the dim halls, a pair of twin doors quietly creak open; a bright luminescence pouring out from the other side. Beyond one of the doors does the blonde head of the psychic peek in; her navy blue eyes beholding the lobby of books set before her. Gazing towards the top of the shelves, she found them to tower dozens of feet, halting upon the pipe covered roof of the library. From the doors, all she could witness was the high shelves set before her; the tables and chairs decorating the middle of the room. Delving from the lobby are what seemed to be the endless tunnels set along the sides, the shelves of hardback acting as enclosed paths. Seeing this, it strikes Priss as an enigma on how massive this archive may actually be.

With that in mind, she readies to venture forward within the library; silently pulling the doors behind her shut as she enters. Taking a glance along the shelves, she decides to fancy a closer look towards the books that they house. Pulling out one of them showed a hardback book baring an image of flaming tree etched in gold upon the cover. Within its pages were words describing the origins of an event, one that involved a blue jay consuming the seed of a mystic tree and morphing into living oak. To most, this would seem like nothing more than a grand tale, but to the psychic was clear to be the catalog of a mythical demon. Some of the biographies of these beasts cloak themselves within what seem to be storybooks. An old cult trick used to hide hell bound knowledge such as this out from undesired hands. One that the psychic is all too familiar with, as some of the books back in her old manor sported similar writings. Twas simple for someone of her archaic mental caliber to decode them. Looking along the rest of the shelves, a smooth grin draws across her face. If what she holds in her palms shows to be true, then this archive may truly house the prize that she seeks. Such a vast collection may even hold some information regarding...his whereabouts.

As if you’ll find anything worth value in this massive waste of paper.

But before she can set off deeper into the library’s vast depths, the sound of footsteps reaches the psychics ears. Blast it all. Of course a collection as valuable as this would not go unguarded. The question being who, or what, might be taking the mantel of patrol? In any case, cover must be taken, post haste.

Out from one of the hardback hallways strolled out a single man, sporting blank white librarian attire with pitch black letters crawling along his clothes. Upon his bald head form specific words such as enlightenment, cultivation, philosophy, ideals, change, and other similar words. Beyond his glasses does he find a book laying upon the polished wooden floor, the pages of which lay exposed to the open air. Approaching the text, the letter covered figure quickly swipes the hardback off the ground. Flipping through the many pages of the tome, they find not a single hint of damage to speak of among the paper.

As the librarian flipped through the books contents, Priss peeks out from under the table towards the figure. Her gaze squinting upon the bibliophile, she musters what psychic energy she can towards the librarians direction. Pain killers are finally working just enough to take a crack at mind jacking, might be able to find the way to the book of Garlov peering into this creeps consciousness. Though no matter how much mental power she conjures, the psychic can’t break into the book keepers brains by even a crack. Damn! Not even a single inch can she penetrate into this weirdo’s mind. He looks sentient enough. What could possibly be keeping her influence out? A spell? A charm? Those letters crawling on his skin? No matter what might be guarding his mind, it’s safe to say that he won’t be susceptible to mind control anytime soon.

Finished scanning through the tome resting in his palms, librarian closes its pages. Turning his head towards the table, he manages to catch a glimpse of yellow retreat under the robed mahogany. Throwing the book cleanly back into its shelf, the man garbed in white begins to approach the reading space. Slowly, he nears the table; his hand gripping upon the edge as he kneels down to his knees. Finally, his head lowers under the wood, beholding nothing but the seats scooted under the ruby red cloth. A question mark crawling on his cheek, the librarian wonders what kind of foolish interloper dares to trespass within these scared archive. With seemingly nothing else left to check, the word decorated bibliophile continues to patrol deeper down the depths of his hardback lair.

Unbeknownst to him, his little blue intruder was just above his head, floating near the corner of the roof beside a set of glass pipes. A quiet breath passes through her lips once she knows the coast to be clear. Lowering herself near the polished wood, Priss fancies drifting towards the path opposed to the one the librarian ventured into. If anything served as a warning for the psychic to steer clear of that weirdo, it was his resistance to her mental control.

Passing through the countless columns of tomes at her sides, the small medium flies through the sea of seemingly infinite knowledge. She soon comes to a halt however upon finding the intersection; the three corridors set before her twisting and bending in supernatural and otherworldly ways. The path to the right corkscrewed around to the point where the ceiling turns into the floor and vice versa. In the middle, Priss found the hall to sprawl as wide as she could see; columns of bookcases stretching out and connecting along the walls. Finally, the left path presented a corridor consisting of a shrinking hallway; the end as far as she could see reducing itself to a mere pinhole.

Good lord. This place is an absolute madhouse. Figures that these freaks would have their archive structured like this. The question being how exactly they get around this shotty example of Picasso fan art. Nobody can simply just memorize the layout of this abstract mess, they have to have a directory of sorts stowed around here someplace. Though given the unorthodox behavior and memories that she has witnessed of the castle’s residence, it wouldn’t be much of an expectation to dismiss. These nut fuckers could make people do anything upon the promise of paranormal mastery.

Before she can decide on which warped path to travel down, the sound of sliding hardback catches her attention from behind. Turning back, Priss watches as one of the tomes dislodges itself from the bookcase; Priss grabs hold of her blade to prepare for whatever the book does. Levitating before her, the hardback opens its cover to the psychic; the contents swiftly being flipped through. Finally resting its pages upon the middle, its words lets out a magical glow. The light from the page soon starts to take form before the psychics very eyes; the luminescence morphing into a woodland sprite. Watching the freshly formed fairy flutter about the halls soothes the psychics guard; the sprites dainty dancing causing her to lower her blade.

The fairy soon halts its dance in the middle of the air, drawing in a deep breath. From the depths of his lungs does the sprite sound off a booming opera; the intensity of his symphony shaking not only the halls, but the psychics head as well. Swiftly does Priss shield her ears from the shrill song of the sprite, raising her blade once more towards the fairy. Best to silence its song quickly, before it catches any unwanted attention or worse yet, another migraine.

Attempting to end its booming theatrical song, the blue psychic rockets towards the sprite with her blade in hand. Her thrust proves ineffective as the sharp tip of the sword simply phases through, the fairy continuing in his trembling melody. Priss’s assault having failed, she quickly takes aim for her next best guess; the source of the sprites origins. The psychic tosses her weapon towards the book floating above, her prized sword piercing through the hardback. Upon the tomes destruction does the sprite burst in a flash of light, closing the curtains on its performance.

Though relived that the sad excuse for an opera singer has been silenced, Priss knows there is no time to celebrate. No doubt that its booming song as attracted some unwarranted attention by now. Might be best to get a move on before something even worse pops out from these shelves. With that thought, Priss bolts down the right hall of the corridor, swerving along as she follows the twisted polished floor.

Within the confines of their mystical cages, the demonic brothers sit along the back wall of their cells; the blue tinted barriers at the fronts acting as filters for their scornful glares towards one another. “So...You wanna tell me what the hell was your deal back there?” Savage starts off. “My deal? You were the one who threw shit at me first. If you didn’t decide to toss that arm at the back of my head, we wouldn’t have been crammed in this hole!” Carnage deflects. “I kept telling ya it was an accident. But you just couldn’t let it slide, could you? Had to just try and get back at me rather then hold off all those freaks?” “Those freaks caught us because you up and fucking tackled me! Admit it! You’re always the one starting shit!” “Dude, quit being such a damn baby. I said I was sorry, okay. We wouldn’t even be stuck in here if you didn’t decide to go off to try and nab the book instead of trying to find Sis.” “Shut up! I’m sick of hearing you go on about Priss all the damn time!”

Soon, their rising bickering starts to echo through the stone walls of the dungeon; a woman in torn robes walk towards the source with a rune covered prod to her back. “Quit yer bitchen, you two! Gonna rile up the whole damn zoo.” she demands. The brothers halt in their arguing, watching as the keeper stops at their cages with a big grin drawing upon her face. From that smile does a chuckle soon escape as she looks upon the two. “What the hell you findin funny?” “Ah, nothing. Just amazed is all. You two wound up killing a pretty big chunk of our army. Worried for a minute that both of ya would run our forces dry into the ground. But once you two went and started beating the hell outta each other, it was a piece of cake to round you guys up. Probably could have made it outta here with your demonic hides if you two weren't such fuck ups.” Rising from his seat, Carnage approaches the front of his cage, his claw pounds on the blue barrier as he looks upon the keeper with a glaring scowl. “You want come in here and say that shit?” “Oh, I don’t have to.”

That said, she pulls out her rune covered rod and jams the tip straight into the transparent field. From the prods tip does a blue energy serge within the inside of the cell, the glow inflicting waves of terrible pain upon Carnage’s entire body. Witnessing his brother’s torturous agony does Savage sprint to the front of his prison, furiously beating upon the barrier keeping him trapped. “Cut that out, you torn up cunt!” Hearing that rude demand does the warden turn her gaze towards the red demon, her prod detaching from the green ones cage. Twirling her rune rod in the air like a baton, she soon pierces the tip of her prod into Savages own cell; sharing a similar sting through his hulking figure. The surge of utter agony urges the red demon to back away from the barrier, hearing the chuckles of their torturer as he retreats. “You best start learning who’s in charge now, boys. If you wanna last long in this army, you’re gonna have to get used to doing as your told.” Having generously given her piece of advice, the keeper leaves the duo to the aftermath of their punishment.

Rising from the floor of his cage, Savage looks on towards his brother, a relieved breath leaving through his lips. Glad to see that bitch didn’t fuck Carnage’s brains up too bad; not that he had much to start. If he did, then we wouldn’t have are asses handed to us by that horror show back there. Come to think of it, if Priss was here, then we wouldn’t have even landed ourselves in that Broadway of freaks to begin with. But no, this jolly green jackass just had to have something to prove, didn’t he? Couldn’t go looking for sis first, no. Just had to try and find that stupid book just to show her up, huh? Sure hope she’s is having a better time in this hellish nightmare suite they call a castle, wherever she may be.

Rocketing through the twisted bookcase decorated tunnels of the, Priss begins to wonder where exactly these mad cultists could stow such a crucial tome within this labyrinth like archive. Any typical mortal would likely die off of starvation before coming close to such a prize. It’s fortunate then that this girl isn’t that typical when it comes to such.

It might be best for the psychic to try and find that librarian again, might actually be able to pry some useful tidbits out; probably knowing the way towards the prize she seeks. Still, it might prove quite the challenge to come across him again; maybe even more of one to confront. His resistance to the psychics mental manipulation has shown to be a growing concern. If he’s that prepared to have a counter measure like that, who knows what else the book keeper has up his sleeve.

Lost in these thoughts, she fails to take note of the several books free themselves from the warped shelves behind her; the hardbacks quietly pursuing the psychic.

Swiftly does Priss turn at the curve, finding before her a dead end sporting a glass case full of demonic charms and talismans. Damn! Traversing through that whole abstract maze of occult knowledge just to come up short. Well, at least its a reassurance that she’s simply not going in circles. Guess, there can’t be that much in the way of stopping her from going back; you know, aside from vomit inducing physics.

From the glass casing housing the gems does Priss notice something in the reflection, something of wood careening towards her back. The psychic sidesteps just before the object could collide upon her, finding the oak arm of a bear crashing through the glass case in a shower of shards. Grasping at the handle of her blade, something to her side grabs her attention. To the left does the psychic find a flock full of wooden animal puppets, all suspended by glowing string leading to thin air. The puppets before held no charm to speak off, no. But rather gnarled bodies and demented sharp toothed maws; their splintered limbs spinning and spiraling in place. From the remains of the glass case, the bear arm retreats back towards the set it matches with; a whole oak grizzly with its beady eyes aimed towards its little blue prey.

Although the pack of mangled wooden animals proves to be the unsettling site, the small medium could spot several of the books that hosted the whole puppet theater of horror. With haste, she springs towards the least guarded tome; aiming to the front with the tip of her blade. Her assault upon the hardback comes to an abrupt stop however when one of the wooden animals shields her target; the psychics blade digging into the puppets solid body. With the other animals nearing, she tempts to push her weapon out from the body of her wooden foe. Casting a telekinetic push, she dislodges her sword out from the wood of the puppet; just in time to evade the splintered antlers of the timber elk.

Retreating from the assault, she looks towards one of the nearby tomes and focuses her powers on the hardback. If you can’t come to them, make them come to you. The wise words of some deplorable douche bag looking for action. With her mental prowess, she halts the bunch of wooden limbs right in the air, the splintered timber inches from her figure. Pulling their books towards her, she grasps on the handle of her blade, eager to slice the tomes into meager party confetti. But an attack from behind interrupts her concentration a the head of an elk striking its horns to her back.

Smacked against one of the bookshelves, the blue psychic looks upon the mystic lumber as they lunge forward; their claws and horns baring towards her. Right before they could lay in their timber fury upon her mentally attuned head, Priss disappears before them; their ramming charge causing the books overhead to tumble down. The avalanche of texts collapses upon the collection of puppets, burying the pack in a pile of hardback. Reappearing in front of the mound of texts, a smug grin paints itself across the psychics face. Seems these beast took “hitting the books” quite a bit too literally.

In her moment of triumph however, the heap of tomes before her explode. Bursting out from the pile be the detached parts of the puppet troupe, the pack of mangled lumber clustering before the psychic. The jagged jaws of the heads snap right off their joints; the spiraling splintered limbs began to form together. In the midst of this transformation, she fails to see the source books anywhere in site. With their weakness nowhere in site, Priss decides to flee from the transforming puppet show while they’re distracted and bolts away from the dead end.

Zooming back through the twisting halls, the sound of booming pounding reaches her ears from behind. Turning to her back, the psychic is urged to pick up the pace; racing away from a hulking abomination of timber and wood. Behind her be the malformed combination of the puppet troupe formed into a massive, gaping maw, clawing through the floor in its pursuit. The horror lets out a bone chilling roar; its screams echoing through the hardback halls. Finding the warped ways of the halls ahead, the psychic hopes to lose the beast behind her with the confusing layout of its own lair.

Up a set of shelved steps does the medium ascend; hoping it’s misshapen claws could fail to rise after. But alas, the beast climbs up the bookcase steps, tearing its way up towards the fleeing medium.

Coming to a set of revolving shelves, Priss pushes through in hopes of cutting herself off from the pursing lumber. However, the massive mass of puppet parts squeezes through each and every single spinning bookcase.

Fleeing from her wooden pursuers, Priss rises towards a glass pipe hanging overhead; a line of tomes flowing through the clear pipe way. The timber abomination is unwavered by her rise; its splintery body jumping towards the ascending psychic. The small medium flies around the glass; hoping the transparent piping would be hard enough to halt the timber terror. Her little plan fails to prosper however; the horrifying puppet show smashing straight through the glass; countless books gushing out from the broken pipe. The shelved tunnel lowering, Priss descends with the wooden freak show right at her back.

Soon, she sets her sites upon a warped hallway; the tunnel baring resemblance to a kaleidoscope. Priss presses on through, hoping the mixed up pathway would help her shake off the wooden beast. The lumbering mess of lumber, chases its prey all through the warped halls, the pursuit taking them both through the floor, the ceiling, the walls, the shelves, even some of the books. But to her disappointment, the small medium still had the beasts on her tail. Why won’t this sad excuse for abstract puppetry just abscond already. This encounter can’t possibly last all night. There’s work to be done. A plan to escape from this amalgamation must be made soon.

Coming to a hall with spherical bookcases floating above, the puppet chimera soon begins to close in upon its prey. Feeling the wooden terrors pine scented breath on the back of her head, Priss readies to stave off the chimeric lumber for a chance to flee. Turning to face her pursuer, she pushes the puppet amalgamation back as far as she can with as much telekinetic strength as she can muster. Her mental shove proves just strong enough to make the mashup of mangled marionettes tumble backwards; its claws tearing apart the polished floor in its knock back. Regaining its balance, the wooden beasts witnesses its blonde prey turn the corner and resumes its pursuit.

Coming to the turn, the jumble of puppets lunges its jagged teeth upon the cornering hall. To its confusion however, none of its heads could find their hunt anywhere in site. Whether ahead in the halls or above to the ball of books above, the timber terrors target seems to have vanished before its eyes. In hopes of stumbling upon the their prey, the beast of bark and birch continues down the hallway; failing to realizing their hunt was behind one of the balls above. Floating down towards the corner, Priss takes a peek behind it to find the wooden horror to lumber deeper ahead through the shelved halls.

Having this many close call this evening alone, the psychics nerves were beginning to wear thin. It’d be in best interest to find that book soon, before another one proves to be too close for her comfort. However, to find that tome in this accursed labyrinth of hardback and paper is already enough of a problem. Wouldn’t even know where to begin to look for it in this hellish maze. Such endeavors would waste the night away, mayhaps take even longer. And time nor luck aren’t exactly being friendly allies tonight. Soon or later, she’s gonna wind up running out of both. Best find a way to locate the book of Garlov’s whereabouts in a swift manner; but how? That librarian probably won’t be too keen with sharing directions anytime soon. Going to need to find another way through this maze of bent space and broken physics. It might not be the most elegant solution, but she’ll might need to borrow another page out of Alisha’s manuel.

Crawling through the halls be a pack of huge chimeric caterpillars of flesh and steel; their parts originating from various land mammals and mechanical apparatuses. Upon coming to an intersection do they split off; a lone cyborg chimera ventures off one its own towards a looping hallway. The massive bug of horror crawls through the bookcase walls with its feet, hooves, and metal sticking upon the shelves. Coiling through the looping hall, it fails to take note of the little shadow tailing it’s behind.

Soon the lonesome caterpillar comes to an odd statue; a lanky figure eating what seemed to be a walrus with its oversized maw. The chimeric monster attempts to emulate the figures maw; stretching out its muzzle as wide as it can. However, its maw soon snaps back into place with a painful smack; the living collage guiding its head down.

Turning away from the statue, it soon finds its source to be in the captive clutches of the little blue intruder. Priss guides her blade towards the open book; the weapons sharp edge mere inches from its pages. “One wrong move and your story ends here.”

Held captive within their arcane cages, both demonic brother sit against the opposite walls. In Carnage’s rest, he find his brothers gaze from beyond the two blue tinted shields; the red demons glare reflecting contempt. “The hell are you staring at?” the green demon wonders. “Oh nothing.” the red brother replies as his eye squints. “Don’t give me that shit. You think that this is all my fault, don’t you?” “Well, maybe if you went with me to try and find sis like I wanted to, we wouldn’t be in this mess.” “No one asked you to come with me, okay? That’s on you, bro.” “I stuck with ya cause I didn’t want any more of us getting lost in this freaky German castle of horrors. It ain’t gonna help if were all just aimlessly running around this place looking for each other.” “Oh, piss off. I can handle myself.” “Carnage, in the 17 years that I have known you, you have not once shown that. I mean for hell’s sake, you’ve threatened to beat the shit outta me over taco’s.” To all that, all the green demon could do in response was look away with an upset demeanor; his arms crossed along his chest.

“Man, what the hell’s up with you? You’ve been acting shitty ever since we lost Priss. I know she spewed crap at us back in that garden, but that ain’t no reason to just up and ditch her like that.” “Yeah, well you ever think that we’d be better off without her on our backs?” Carnage questions; staring back towards his red brother. “Dude, come on. You don’t mean that. You know both of us can get on each others throats without her around. I mean, look at where we wound up. All just cause we couldn’t stop pissing each other off. We need her just as much as she needs us.” “No we don’t!” Carnage barks, quickly rising from the floor of his cell. “Yeah, we kinda do. Did you have any kind of clue where that stupid book was in the first place? Both of us were pretty much running around in circles without her.” “Shut up!” “What is up with you? You’re always just rushing into things without thinking, not even stopping for a minute to wonder if you shouldn’t do it Why can’t you just admit that you’re not as right as you think you are?”

“You don’t think I know that?” the green demon admits; his voice inexplicably cracking. Savage draws back his scolding lean; witnessing tears roll down from Carnage’s cheeks. “You don’t think I can’t tell that you think I’m some kind of fuck up?” “That’s not what I-” “Well your right!...I am. Just some stupid dumb ass who can help but cause trouble...” The rippling of his snotty nose echoing through the dungeon, Savage can only stay silent as Carnage continues with his self deprecating rant. “Priss can think 100 things a minute and keep things from going ape shit. You have your sick ass art skills you use to make awesome sculptures and paintings. And what do I have going for me? Just a short temper and a god damn truckload of personal problems and insecurities.” “Carnage...” “I just wanted one chance. One moment I can have to look back on and think to myself: “Hey, I’m not that big of a fuck up. I got one thing right.”. But I screwed that over too and got us throw into this freaky shit hole; all just because I wanted something to prove to everyone!” In his fury, the green demon punches the side of his cell; break straight through to the neighboring cell. Withdrawing his claw from the stone, a deep sigh leaves Carnage lungs. “Even myself...I’m just a fucking mess...compared to you two.” Having said all that was buried deep within his soul, the green giant curls back against the wall of his prison; his head tilted down on his knee’s.

Savage’s eye cannot help but stare towards his brothers slump from beyond the pair of barriers, tempting to recoil from the rant with: “Bro...I had no idea ya felt like that.” “Well now you do. All of my shit just dumped out like a giant mess of blood and guts from a hit and run accident. Just like how I am.” “Carnage, no; just listen.” The red demon stands upon the stone floor of his mystic prison; igniting the flames of his speech with: “You’re not a fuck up. No matter what you or anybody else thinks. I’ve seen you plow through stuff like nobodies business. Like, once you start something, you don’t quit until its done. I have to constantly go back to pieces that I haven’t finished cause the motivation just drains outta me halfway through. But whenever you do something, you don’t stop until the job’s done, without taking a single break. Your like a fucking machine, man. It’s nuts.” This praise reaching Carnage’s ears, the green demon lifts his gaze up from his knees; staring towards his red brother. “And I know I harped on ya for this earlier, but your reckless determination can get you through stuff that Priss would spend hours on just trying to think through. Like sis tries to unlock a temple door locked by an ancient puzzle. Bam! You just punch through without much thought.” Soon, Carnage begins to rise back from his recessive sulking, a smile beginning to form across his face. “You are honestly one of the most hell bent bastards I’ve ever met. Just plowing through motherfuckers like flesh pinatas filled with blood and guts. It honestly amazes me every time I see you go- What the fuck is that?”

Hearing that come out of his brothers mouth causes Carnage’s smile to shatter; taking a glance from behind to find tendrils coming out from the wall that Carnage had made. The green demon grasps at the multiple limbs, pulling upon the tendrils through the hole until the wall had collapsed. The dust of the rubble settling; Carnage’s eye’s lay upon a distorted face; smiling towards him as its tendrils squirm in its hand. Upon the site of this grotesque horror that flopped into his cell, he flails the freaks tentacles out from his claws. “Where in the ever loving hell did this Lovecraft brainchild come from?”

Neighboring his brothers cage, Savage look towards the next mystic prison; the wall between them reduced to rubble. “Think it was from the cell ya busted into” “The fuck?” Past the twisted tentacled face does the green demon wander within its cell; sporting almost the exact layout of his, aside from the slime splattered along the floor. From the side does the lumbering demon notice the small gap in between the barrier where the wall once stood; the tip of his claw just squeezing through.

Glancing towards the wall of his own cell; Savage charges through to the prison neighboring his. Breaking through, he is met with but a small box lying upon the ground. Lifting it from the stone; the red demon inspects the box from bottom to top; finding note even a speck of detail upon its sides. “Who the hell just puts some box inside a mystic monkey cage like this?” he wonders; his eye gazing upon its top. Out from its lid sprang out a twisted horror, taking the form of a fast food employee with an oversized set of teeth. Those chompers bite down hard upon Savages shoulder, the red demon struggling as more of the demonic patty flipper erupts out from the box. Within the facing cage, Carnage bangs upon the blue barrier keeping him trapped. “Savage!” Soon, he sees his red brother pry the teeth of the hellish minimum wage worker off and start to push back. Once he got the freak far enough, Savage starts to beat the demonic employee into submission; halting not a single second of his assault until his foe was stuffed back into the box it popped out from. Once sealed back within the cardboard; Savage stamps out the container until it was completely flat.

“God damn, this place houses some freaks...Well, time to bust outta here.” Carnage declares, his claw ready to swing as he aims for the next wall. “Hang on” he hears his brother command. That demand reaching his ears urges Carnage to smash the breaks on his smash happy claw; turning towards Savage with a squinted gaze. “What is it now?” “We can’t just smash through this place like fucking coked up bulls. Remember what Priss said about charging through shit without using yer noodle? How the hell are we gonna deal with the rest of the freak shows cooped up in this hole?” “Who says “we” gotta deal with them?” Such a counter questions sparks wonder within Savages head; curious to know what his green brother was stating. If we aren’t gonna fend them off, who will? It’s questioning this that the pieces within his thoughts finally click; a devious grin stretch across the red demons face.

The chimeric caterpillar scuttles throughout the wondrous archive of demonic knowledge; its metal feet and hooves sticking firmly upon the polished floor. From around the corner does the beast spot a pack of lumbering silver human heads; their pear shaped bodies rattling the googly eyes on the front of their faces. Those eyes catch the bug peeking from the corner and the horde of heads soon start to crawl forth with their feline like legs. Waving its hands while shaking its head, the chimeric beast makes the horde come to a stop. Seeing some of the pack tilting their gaze, the caterpillar glances back; its book entrapped from within the psychics grips. Back towards the silver head, the spliced together beast ques for the pack to leave with its gorilla hands. Seeing the bugs arms waving, the horde of heads continue on their way, the beasts false smile slowly fading upon their departure. With the coast clear, the abomination resumes its venture through the library, the blue psychic behind it holding its source of life hostage.

A little further ways into the archives tunneling halls, the luminescence starts to drain from the shelves the deeper they go. Priss holds the tome in her hands close so her hostage tempts not to flee within this growing darkness. Turning the coming corner, the flood of shadows is broken by a far dim light ahead. Approaching the blazing glow, the amalgamation begins to gradually slow its stroll. Glancing at its back, it finds Priss nearing her blade upon the spine of its tome, urging it to continue.

Finally, both the caterpillar and the psychic come upon bizarre chamber; its walls lined with curved, glowing pillars forming inwards. The pillars aqua blue glow shine upon a golden pedestal that held a sizable tome. Upon the texts black hard back bared only a single word etched in white: “Garlov”. A light giggle escapes from underneath her breath as she begins to approach.

Finally, she found it. The source of this cults vast knowledge and power over demon kind. Right before her navy blue eyes. It might have been a more of a painfully rough venture than she desired, but she managed to make it to their objective singlehandedly, all without her brothers shenanigans to weigh her down. Returning to them with this in her grasp will cement her place at the top of their trio; reminding her brothers who the top bitch really is.

Before she could near the tome she seek, Priss felt a slight tug holding her back. The mystic book in her arms pulls itself towards the beast that it gives life to; the chimeric cyborg caterpillar refusing to move into the chambers. Looking upon the creature, the psychic stars upon the pitiable gaze in its bird eyes; the monsters muzzle quivering in fear. The poor amalgamation is really putting on quite the show, ain’t it? Fine, it has already fulfilled its purpose anyway. With those thought does she release the abominations tome from her grasp; the beast and the book fleeing out from the chamber the moment it is set free.

That interruption having been dealt with, the psychic turns back towards her prize with a small smirk. Nearing the tome set upon the golden pedestal, her palm reaches out for the unholy text. The book of Garlov, the potential answers that she seeks, so close.

But before her hand could rest upon the texts hardback cover, an odd force pushes back her touch. Her smirk having been broken, she cautiously reaches out for the tome once more. The psychics palm rests upon what seemed to a barrier of arcane origin, blocking her reach from her prize. No matter, nothing a little telekinesis can’t work around.

Focusing upon the hellish text from beyond the mystic blockade, the medium casts forth her telekinetic powers upon the book of Garlov. The tome before her however fails to budge an inch, instead the barrier sending a small shock upon the psychic. Priss reels herself back from the unexpected counter; gathering her baring from the shock. Should have expected as much from these freaks. This is their most coveted treasure. They wouldn’t just put up any kind of arcane blockade behind it. But no matter. There hasn’t been a barrier that this psychic has yet to warp behind.

Attempting to bypass the mystic barricade, she phases out from thin air. But soon, the magic blockade flashes a glow of white, putting Priss’s supernatural infiltration to a grinding halt. Once she reappeared at the very same spot that she vanished from, a small hiss escape from her teeth as she rubs her temples. Well, seems that these unholy enthusiasts know their arcane arts. Even so, no barrier is impossible to shatter. Surely destroying its source of power should make it dissipate. The question being where exactly its source might be.

Upon those thought does the sound of sliding hardback reach her ears. A glance from behind showing a wall of tomes forming upon the entrance; holding the psychic within the chamber. Of course, it should have been obvious that the barrier was not the only trap set in place.

From deep within the demonic dungeon, a few of its keepers were lounging from the entrance of the cell blocks. Near the door, two of them sit upon a table, with one aiming a piece of paper folded into a triangle between the others fingers. The first flicks the pointy piece of paper through the seconds finger, but winds up flying into his eye. Reeling back from the shot, the second one gasps as she hears the firsts grunts. That worry soon vanishes once the first begins to calm, pulling the paper out of his eye. He soon flicks the paper back towards the second, the oncoming triangle making the second keeper flinch. Hitting her forehead, she soon hears giggling escaping from the first keeper lips; the second soon joining in her partners guffaw. The third leaning on a wall from across the small entryway lets out a sigh as he shakes his head back and forth. From the wall does he stroll towards the door to the dungeon; his hand place firmly upon the handle.

Right before the keeper could even get the door open an inch, the pair of lumbering demons smash through the walls; the demon brothers mowing the keepers down in a swift gore fest of broken bone and rags. Soon to follow them would be the horror show that those cultist weirdo’s had been keeping down there; pouring out from the depths of the dungeon like overflowing hell made fresh sugar cereal from the box.

Charging through the dark dungeon, Savage and Carnage burst through whatever stood in their way; be it the walls, demons, or cultists. “So, you actually know where the exits at in this overblown stone circus?” Carnage questions, plowing through a huge sown together crow goat and punching it back into pieces. “Eh, not really. Kinda just going wherever and hoping to stumble on it.” Savage admits; flattening a pack of prison keepers as they fruitlessly attempt to fight back with whatever weak weapons they hold. “He he. Fine by me. The more demon we bust out, the better. Lets turn this place into a fucking wreck.” “Ya mean like we always do?” “He-Hell yeah!”

The demonic duo continue their reign of terror across the cults hellish dungeon; breaking and busting through cells and cages in their rampage. Their destruction sets the other demons within the cults grasp free from their mystic imprisonment; the monsters rampaging through the prison alongside the brothers. The countless prison keepers attempt to herd them back with little success; the hell born freaks tearing the taking bites out of the cultists that kept them captive.

A couple of keepers stand their ground as a massive blue head with oversized eyes. Try as they might to resist, the dungeon keepers succumb to the heads carnivorous eyes; slurping the down like a floppy, meaty, piece of spaghetti.

While some stand and fight, others run like little bitches; an example being a couple of the dungeon keepers facing a three legged metal cow in the shape of a star. But try as they might to flee from the steel steed, the keeps are ultimately impaled by the bovines sharp celestial horns.

As the horde of demonic terrors rages on, the warden scrambles through the stone corridors of the dungeon; watching as her keepers are torn and bitten to chunky meat pieces. She soon darts into the dungeons entryway, and races towards the exit out of this house of odd and grotesque horrors. Reaching the door, she presses her open palm upon a glowing plate set to the side; a blue tinted barricade similar to the one that were keeping the beasts locked in front of the escape. Now it doesn’t matter what kind of freaks hobble this far; ain’t nothing getting past this ironclad blockade of arcane goodness; and coming in a cute blue tint to boot.

Turning from the door, she jumps at the sight of the demons brother that she had not too long ago tortured, with vengeful grins stretching across their cheeks. “Hey there, sunshine.” the green one greets. Although lightly shaken, the warden draws her prod; ordering the two with a stern tone to: “You two!?...Both of you best just waddle back to your cages this instant. I ain’t afraid for this to get dirty.” “Oh?” Right after Savage utters such; he begins to slowly lumber towards the warden in the torn garbs; the keepers confidence draining as the giant approaches. “You wanna try and make me?” Although stiffened by the red demons presence, she ultimately thrusts her rod towards the hulking monster to her front. Inches from his chest, Savage grasp the wardens arm before she had the chance to stab him. Caught within his claw, the head keeper attempts to jerk her limb out from the demons grasp; her arm not budging a single inch. Her desire to break free from his crustaceous grip is soon granted, but at the cost of one of her precious limbs. Savage effortlessly severs the wardens arms with but a single snap; the head keeper drawing away from the red demon with ragged breath and groans.

Her hasty retreat is soon halted however, feeling the ominous warmth of a giant from her backside. “What’s the matter, Raggedy ann?” A glance from behind revealed to her the other demon; garbed in green with a sinister grin drawn upon his face. Before she could escape from his reach, Carnage grabs hold of her other arm and lifts her from the stone floor. “Thought you weren't afraid for this to get dirty.” The warden could do nothing but writhe within the green demons claw; her legs kicking in the air as she tries to shake out from his grasp. Like with his brother before, Carnage cuts the keepers other arm right off; his victim falling upon puddles of her own juices. “Or was all that bitchen you were going on about back there just that?” Flat on the floor in her own blood, she attempts to rise from the floor in hopes of escaping from this living nightmare; but her fleeting escape comes to an abrupt end as one of the opposing monsters pins her to the red stained floor. “Just being a bitch?” Gazing above; the warden witnesses Savage standing upon her back; trapped under his heel. That same heel begins to crush her spine; her final moment staring up towards the demon brothers with despair in her eyes.

Savage soon finishes the warden with a gooey crunch; a satisfied breath escaping from his lungs. “Oh, that felt good.” “Ye-eah!” On their murder do the two brothers bump their chest; cheers of their victory echoing across the entryway. “So, now that we’ve put that sad joke of a warden under us, how the hell we getting outta here?” Carnage questions. “Watch and learn, bro.” Savage answers; spinning the wardens arm like a baton. Approaching the plate set aside the door, the red demon slaps the keepers detached palm upon the seal; the blue barrier keeping them from escaping dissolving before their eyes. “He he. Nice. Time to scram from this shit hole.” “Yeah. Best to beat it before our cellmates start getting the same idea.”

Priss swiftly grabs hold of her blades handle, ready for whatever bizarre horror was planing to burst out from the walls of the books chamber. Whether its some kind of terrifying amalgamation of indeterminable parts or a grotesque abomination beyond imagination; the psychic was ready for whatever this chamber plans to throw at her pretty blonde head.

Suddenly, the pillars set around her flash a bright luminescence; out from their holes sprout out beams of aqua blue. The scattering rays soon begin to form within the middle of the room, the light taking a humanoid shape before the psychics eyes. Soon, the light of aqua blue formed itself into a faceless man garbed in light blue belly dancer robes decorated in fleshly eyes and mouths with a large vase perched above his head. No doubt that the beauty before her is inhuman, but the true question was where the source of its power lurked. As the eyes sown upon the man’s dress gazed upon the psychic, the mediums own site search through the chamber. Try as she might to find the aqua blue beauty’s source, Priss saw not a single page of an open book anywhere. Perhaps this man be not from the shelves, but rather from a cultist cowering nearby. The question being where they cower. Given previous encounters, its likely that they’re housed within these very chamber so as to foresee to their pets commands. If that is the case, it’s only a simple matter of meeting her blades steel with their flesh.

An Arabic melody soon pierces Priss’s ears, snapping the psychic out from her train of thoughts. Looking over towards the man, she found the tune to be singing from his very robes; his countless mouths chanting out as the man himself shakes his hips to the rhythm. Alongside this entrancing tune does the medium hear the sound of sloshing; glancing overhead to find the pot perched above to be gushing out aqua blue liquid. In his dance, the man grasps the vase from the top of his head and throws out the slime within towards his navy blue intruder. Cast out into the air, the waters forms itself into clear serpents; their sharp blue fangs primed towards the psychic. Priss quickly flies above the snakes watery bite; the serpents eager to follow her ascent. With but the swipe of her blade, the blue medium slices through the liquid snakes; reducing them to nothing but a light drizzle

Raining down alongside the drops of the defeated serpents, Priss dive bombs down towards the dancer; her blade ready to plunge into one of his dresses eyes. The danseur evades the psychics descending thrust like flowing water; shooting out from his pot aqua blue wolves that lunge forth. Warping away from the aquatic beasts bite, the psychic reappears behind one of the pillars decorating the chamber.

Peeking out from the column of stone, she attempt to gauge where the dancers master might be lurking, hoping to end this charade quickly. Alas, the psychic finds no trace of anyone else in the room besides her and the light blue singer. However, her ears do manage to pick up the faint beat of flesh from her side. A hint of the familiars master perhaps?

Keeping her from investigating any further, she feels something grasp her from behind. Pulling her out from the safety of cover, a large watery tentacle drags the psychic back into the fray once more. She soon finds that tentacle to belong a gooey octopus erupting from the dancers pot. The limb begins to squeeze the small mediums body; Priss’s breath leaking out from her nose. Before the rest of her air could depart, the psychic slices through the tentacle in one clean slice; the octopus breaking apart upon its severed limb.

Upon her escape does the psychic quickly rocket towards the aqua blue dancer. Right as she swing her weapon, the man in the dress of eyes and mouths leaps overhead, hitting a high note in his Arabian serenade. Determined to not let her foe go on the counterattack, Priss halts his retreat with her telekinesis. Having stopped the dancer right in his tracks, the small medium lunges forth. His little blue foe on the approach, the dancer erupts from his vase a shroud of mist that covers his entire body. Thrusting through the mist, Priss fails to feel the impact of flesh upon her sword; glancing back to find both the dancer and his pot having vanished.

The mist soon covers the entire chamber; the very walls that make up the room leaving the psychics site. The navy blue medium tightly grasps the handle of her blade; her eyes darting around the fog surrounding her. As Priss scans through the mist, she notices the clouds shifting towards her left. Looking in the opposite direction, the psychic soon finds a swordfish bursting out from the shroud. By the skin of her teeth does she manage to dodge its thrust, the water fish’s nose grazing the side of her head. Alongside the nautical assault, a barrage of manta storm out from the mist. Although she manages to slice through some of the rays, one of them socks her square in the stomach. The aquatic blow sends the psychic flying into the pillar from behind; smacking Priss upon its hard stone. Reeling back from the impact, Priss witnesses the mist shifting once more; erupting from it be a blue hammerhead shark. Swiftly does the medium duck out from the sharks lunge, the predator slamming upon the rock.

From the base of the pillar, Priss takes the moment to catches her breath. Good lord, this dancer is pumping out some furious rhythms. How much energy do those hips of his possess? That tacky vase above his head is proving to be quite the troublesome piece of pottery; firing out barrages of slimy creature from its insides. If that dancers master cannot be sought after, then that aquatic entertainer song must cease once and for all. To end this water fight quickly, that sad excuse for a decoration must be swiftly shattered. Then putting an end to his dance should be child's play. The question being how to approach such a geyser without getting soaked?

Above does she feel the slight drop of liquid touch the top of her head; the unexpected drip urging her to step back. Turning towards the pillar, Priss finds the aqua blue liquid to have dripped out from its stone surface. She starts to approach the structure, dabbing her hand upon the dripping hole. Fancying a taste of the mysterious dripping, her lips smack upon the oddly familiar taste. Hmm...bit of salt, some protein, a hint of iron? This pillar is dripping out blood. But...how is that possible? How can stone even bleed in the first place, and why of all colors is it such a sickly shade of blue? Gauging a closer look, her pupils widen to find that the inside of the stone was made of flesh of the same color. Why would these pillars have need of organs. Could it maybe…

Before she could inspect further, something pulls her away from the living pillar and back into the mist. Jerked away, Priss find what had barbarically grasped her being what seemed to be sea man built like a gorilla. With its ape like arm, the sea monster flings the psychic away from the column. Priss regains her balance in the midst of her unplanned flight; putting the breaks on her careen towards the wall in the nick of time. Noticing the fog in front of her shifting away, she flies to the side; just in time to avoid the sea mans heavy tackle. Retreating from the watery beast, she readies her blade; the base of its neck clear in her view. Right before taking the chance to deliver her counterattack, an idea popping in her head makes her hesitate.

As the slimy water gorilla jumps from the wall, it finds its little blue foe to its side retreating deeper into the mist. Waiting not a moment to pursue, the aquatic ape charges towards the fleeing medium. The watery beast swings its massive limbs, hoping to knock the psychic out from the misty air. But the medium before it proved difficult to strike, Priss swerving away from its watery arms in her flight back. Soon however, the sea man does manage to make contact with something; the hard rock surface of one of the pillars. From behind the water apes fist does aqua blue blood begin to spurt out; drawing back its arm to find the organs exposed. Upon this site does the ocean gorilla begin to tremble, soon swelling to the verge of bursting. Soon the beast pops like a comically oversized water balloon, the mist rapidly lifting upon its demise.

The fog clearing out, Priss lays site on the dancer once more, the familiars rhythm having been shaken to a dizzying stumble. Near the psychic be the exposed flesh of the column, aqua blue blood dripping down the stone. Seeing the dancer grow fatigued from the pillars harm, the psychic quickly puts the picture together. These columns that decorate the tome’s chamber are that demons master, doomed to guard the cults most sacred text in a shell of stone.

Not even bothering to wonder how that could make any kind of sense, the blue medium has only moments to act. The living pillar being the closest, the medium charges forth with her blade in hand. Priss stabs her steel into the columns exposed muscle, plunging her weapon deep into its flesh. A trembling high note escapes from the dancers mouths, a whirlpool erupting from his vase that swirls towards the blue psychic. The maelstrom pulling her from the column, Priss is soon swept up in the slimy vortex; the miniature medium tumbling through the swirling stream His mentally gifted foe trapped within a storm of his making, the dancer aims his vase towards the whirlpool. From the decorative pottery blasts out a killer whale; its slimy body slamming into the storm in a massive splash.

The maelstrom having been broken into puddles, the dancer sees not a hint of the little blue intruders washed up corpse. Upon staring at the site, the demonic entertainer is struck from behind; feeling the cold slice of steel upon his back. Retreating from the sting, the dancer turns to find the psychic behind him giving chase. In his escape, the demonic dancer bursts out a scattershot of piranha towards his blue pursuer. With nothing but her telekinesis, Priss redirects the school of meat eating fish back towards their sender. As the aqua blue familiar was busy evading the storm of piranha, the blue psychic darts in the direction of the pillars exposed tissue. Finished dodging his own school of carnivorous fish, the dancer gushes out a huge leopard seal; its slimy body smacking the psychic away from the pillars wound.

Careening towards one of the unbroken colomns, Priss attempts to break its stone cold shell with her sharp steel blade. Upon coming to the column, she spirals down the stone with her swords edge upon the surface; her blade trailing sparks on the way down. The steel of her weapon however fails to cut through the pillars rocky surface; her sword not even leaving a single stratch. Looking towards other columns, the psychic could find the dancer casting slimy jelly fish upon the open wounds. Didn’t take them long to catch on, did it? Seems like she needs to find a way to break through the stone.

While the dancer showed himself to be distracted, Priss rockets towards the nearest column. The psychic thrusts her blade into one of the pillars exposed hole, hoping to draw blood from the stone. Instead, what she was delivered was a terrible shock; Priss releasing her grip from the handle of her sword. Seeing the demonic entertainer launch forth a volley of slimy serpents, Priss flees from the column; retrieving her blade with her telekinetic powers.

In her withdraw, she directs her blade back into the palm of her hand; just in time to ward off the approaching sea snakes. The psychic dicing the serpents into nothing but droplets, the horde soon starts to overwhelm her. Priss soon pushes the pack of serpents back with a telekinetic blast; the force of which launches her towards another of the columns. The psychic swiftly climbs up the pillar with her steel cutting against its hard stone; the ascending sparks lighting up the chamber. Rising away from the living rock, the psychic saw that her slicing uppercut gave little damage to its stone shell. Blast, its stronger than anticipated; not even a full force swing could not put a single scratch on its rock hard surface. Is this blade not strong enough to cut through pierce through its stone.

Perhaps you should ask yourself the same question.

Below the psychic does a squid cast its tentacles upon her; the cephalopod wrapping its limbs around the small mediums body. Entangle in its slimy grip, the squid slowly begins to draw itself back into the pot it originated; the dancer below it shaking his hips to the Arabian beat. Being pulled towards the dancers vase, Priss struggles to free herself from the squids grib; her blades edge against her skin. Right when the psychic was on the verge of being sucked within the pot; she soon warps out from the cephalopod’s grasp. Upon the psychics vanishing act does the dancer take a look through his surroundings; his arms waving as he ventures around the chamber in search if his cowering prey.

In truth, the small medium was hiding from behind one of the living column, tempting to chip away its stone surface with the tip of her blade. As she fruitlessly picked at the stone, Priss thought back to her previous encounters ever since departing from her brothers; her navy blue eyes overshadowed by the darkness. Breaking out of her metal prison down in the dungeon. Hiding from the gluttonous eye taming cultist. Fleeing from the abominable horror of puppetry. Each serving as a prime example of her lack of physical strength, ones that frustrate the psychic to no end. So many obstacles that could have been bypassed in such little time with Savage and Carnage by her side. Its almost sickening to recount how many close calls could have been avoided with their aid. Even now, their incredible strength dares to overshadow her intellect.

Thinking back to when she was scolding them in the garden, regret begins to settle deep within her soul. Of course they care about finding Him. They’d do more than anyone else. Why did I have to say all that to them? Why didn’t I go look for them as soon as I busted out? What I wouldn’t give to take back everything I said. To have their goofy smiles back at my side once more. Surely their overwhelming power working with my brilliance would destroy whatever this castle, or anything beyond it stood in their way.

Upon the thoughts of power does her mind flashes to the moments the stone pillars broke; the heavyweight slime of the dancer crashing upon the rocky pillars. Those thought get her gears working; the shadows lifting away from her eyes as they stare towards the familiar in question.

Around the chamber does the demonic dancer sway through; its mouths letting out low, anticipating tones. Soon; however, he sees his mentally gifted foe bolt out from hiding; lunging straight for the dancers tone figure. In hopes of intercepting her charge, the dancers shoots out from his pot sharp starfish that lob towards the approaching psychic. Spiraling towards her, Priss dispatches the starfish with but the swipes of her blade and prepares to plunge its tip straight into the familiars flesh. Once again does the dancer swerve his way around the mediums thrust, witnessing the psychic vanish from thin air.

Reappearing from behind the demonic dancer; Priss slashes at his fleshy robes; the mouths screaming out in harmony as they fall from their master. Aiming his pot towards the psychic; the dancer casts forth an aqua blue narwhal; its sharp horn aimed towards the mediums head. Swiftly does Priss ascend out from the sea unicorns thrust; tossing her blade towards the entertainer. With his pot pointed towards the chamber floor, the demonic singer rocket way from the sword weapons descent with a spiraling twirl. Coming to the apex of his ascent, the dancer launches out from his pot a barrage of spiny sea urchins. The psychic drops down towards the floor; away from the wave of sea spines and retrieves her sword.

From above, the dancer tempt to drop down a huge sea turtle right on the mediums blonde head. Priss dashes out from the tortoises heavy slam; her head grazing its solid shell in her escape. Swiftly rising towards her dropping aqua blue foe, Priss zips past and slices off another piece of the dancers dress. The remaining mouths make up for the missing singers; chanting out a loud chorus. Having the last of this ungrateful guest’s shenanigans, the dancers lands upon the ground with a furious shake. Something begins to bulge out from the top of his pot; Priss ready for whatever plans to erupt out.

Bursting out from the depths of the vase be a slimy whale; its massive body rocketing toward the psychic. Priss flies aside the oncoming sea mammal, focusing all of her telekinetic abilities on the oversized spritzer. Redirecting the monstrous whales flight, Priss sends the sea mammal careening into the pillar on the side; breaking the column immediately upon impact. Soon, the psychic sends her slimy sea dwellers into the rest of the columns making up the chamber; each one of them shattering in a mess of aqua blue organs and rock. Once all the columns have met their end at the hands of their familiars own attack, the blue psychic lifts the whale in her telekinetic grip overhead. The dancer below suffering fatigue upon the ironic demise of his master; the demonic entertainer can do little as his own whale is slammed down upon him like a slimy blue hammer.

Descending from the air with her hands at her head, Priss witnesses the oversized sea mammal melt before her eyes. From the slime whales dissolving goo does she find the dancers lifeless corpse; his remaining mouths having sung their last chorus. From beyond the demonic cadaver, Priss beholds the arcane barrier guarding her objective dissolving before her very eyes. Upon the mystic blockades end does a devious smirk flash across the psychics face.

Slowly does she levitate her coveted prize towards her grasp; the potential answers held within its text wondering within her head. The briefing had mentioned that this tome held the cataloged biographies of thousands of hell born creatures. Surely such a vast volume of unholy knowledge could house the key to uncovering the bastard responsible for the disappearance of her aunts.

The book of Garlov finally rests upon the psychics palms; a hopeful smile stretching across her cheeks. Her celebratory find is broken when the ominous voice echoes through her head.

Do you really think you’ll find anything of worth in that sad excuse for a library book?

Indeed it will. Once the time comes to inspect its pages; the books text shall prove to be the first step to finding you. The start of our vengeance will finally takes its first step starting with this precious tome.

It’s honestly adorable how you actually think you can track me down. Face it. I am beyond your grasp.

Liar! Surely there must be a way to uncover your whereabouts. None of us will stop until your reduce to nothing but bloody meat chunks. After all; if it weren't for you, Savage and Carnage’s mothers would still be by my own’s side.

Hmph! If it weren’t for me, you and your brothers would not even exist in the first place. It strikes me as rather ungrateful to go on a crusade to destroy the very father that had bestow you life.

“You’re not my father!” Priss screams, her outcry echoing beyond the chamber of the unholy text. Realizing her emotional outburst, she swiftly closes her mouth; looking back towards the entrance of the chamber. Dammit all! The entire library must have heard that cry of unrivaled fury. Should have known better than to let that spiteful fiend get the better of me like that.

Hoping to leave the bookcase halls of this twisted archive, Priss bolts out of the book of Garlov’s odd chambers; the tome itself held behind her back via telekinesis. Best to take her departure quickly so as not to get cornered.

#Young Hope #lillaxtrigger

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