#lethal lewis
Text
"Long time no see, huh? You look like you've seen a ghost~
L-Lewis...?
Oh no, he's... unavailable right now. You'll be calling me Reverb~"
Wanted to mess around with a Reverb using Lewis's face to freak Arthur out :3 while sketching I realized I drew his pose very similarly to Lewis at the beginning of The Future and I decided to lean into it :3
Below the cut are the flats, an alternative version, and a concept sketch :3
#faux art ✨️#mystery skulls#mystery skulls animated#lewis pepper#msa lewis#mystery skulls lewis#lethal lewis#msa ???#msa reverb#msa au#<< technically#tw eye contact#eye contact
359 notes
·
View notes
Text
A funny using @theghostlypepper 's Lethal Lewis design
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
[©XPB]
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
i like this sigurd i drew the other day in aggie. Don't mind that most of the details are missing it's ok he's chilling
dairy catastrophe fanart too
#PEARL - AQUAMARINE#lethal company#sigurd lethal company#sigurd#dairy catastrophe#isobel#lewis#hi guys
24 notes
·
View notes
Text
Taron talking about Lewis Capaldi on Capital this morning.
40 notes
·
View notes
Note
lewis hamilton eats one grape a month and sleeps in an airpod case. there's no way he could be a basketball player 😭
#i hate that you’re right#but also the league should be happy lewis isn’t like 6’5 he’d be lethal#anon#ask.txt
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
MRS CHRIS | c. dixon
summary: a scroll through your internet presence as 'mrs chris'. [social media AU.]
pairing: fem!reader x chris dixon (chrismd)
faceclaim: eva meloche
notes: first piece for mrs chris out of the wag universe. eva is gonna be the main fc I use for mrs chris, hopefully you like it!
liked by taliamar, faithlouisak and 4,398 others
yourinstagram charity match this week, plus some other fun tidbits
view all 129 comments
user that outfit 🤩
user I knew she was a rhode girly 💅
taliamar soooo pretty 🤍🤍🤍
stephan_tries the only person who is safe from my slander in the commentary box
yourinstagram it's because without me you would've been cancelled a loooooong time ago
stephan_tries best pr manager in the biz
user my idol tbh
user you radiate good energy
chrismd10 another day, another slay 😚
yourinstagram please never speak again
liked by yourinstagram, wroetoshaw and 180,837 others
chrismd10 there's norway this is my job
view all 398 comments
faithlouisak my daughter's gonna see that picture one day
user get y/n on it now!!!
user creating more work for y/n by posting ethan's ass pics
user couple goals 😩💅
user when he makes her job harder 🤩🤩🤩
user chris hitting the glow-up hard 🤤
user y/n knew what his potential was 🤍
user they started dating and he just got hotter??
user that harry shot was lethal 🫣
user sick video 👍🏽
yourinstagram why must you do this to me? do you hate me?
behzinga I'm sorry
yourinstagram I'm letting you go
chrismd10 sorry mate
yourinstagram you're next md
liked by miniminter, chrismd10 and 4,982 others
yourinstagram norway for the week <3 at shoots and scrubbing ass pics from the internet 🫶🏼
view all 187 comments
user she's just so pretty 🫠
chrismd10 good luck with that 🫣
yourinstagram you can explain to olive why her dad's bum is all over the internet one day christopher
faithlouisak aunty y/n would NEVER do that to her beloved neice
yourinstagram my literal baby girl 😭
user y/n drinking wine to ignore her boyfriend and other clients being stupid
user literally every person in the new video, apart from danny, is a part of y/n's client base
user how does she do this shit
user girl has managed to stop HARRY LEWIS from getting cancelled, I'm convinced she can do anything
liked by georgeclarkeey, freyanightingale and 5,019 others
yourinstagram mixing work with pleasure apparently..
view all 213 comments
user EAT HIM UP Y/N
user in the words arthur television: she gagged him
calfreezy send kart 21 down the river
user chris on a ladder is so funny to me 😭
maxbalegde sexy pr lady, come over right NOW, you look too good to not be at my place of residence
yourinstagram be right there xx
user casual london fashion week pic on the 2nd slide x
yourinstagram humble bragging 😩
user I want her life 😭😭
user ikr literally hanging out with all your friends because you manage their image? sign me up
yourinstagram rlly easy guys, just date a famous youtuber and have a media and communications degree xxxx just so easy!!
chrismd10 never forget where you came from.. me
yourinstagram okay mr arsenal bedsheets x
liked by chrismd10, willne and 5,193 others
yourinstagram I got my Greece trip- I mean video... and got to pick which extras to bring along......
view all 287 comments
user quick everyone act shocked that chris is there
user oh my gosh.. no way, chris? I am so surprised
yourinstagram I appreciate the effort guys 🥲
user she just is that bitch 😭
user you know she's got every single one of those men wrapped around her finger
arthurtv i wasn't one of the chosen ones 💔
yourinstagram because im tired of you and chris sharing a bed and me sleeping on the hotel couch
chrismd10 foiled again arthur
calfreezy send me this pic you traitor
user pr manager/photographer
yourinstagram I need a pay rise
chrismd10 thanks for stowing me away in your suitcase xx
user she's mothering I love it
user so hot
user major fitty ❤️🔥🤩
taliamar so true
liked by yourinstagram, freyanightingale and 178,399 others
chrismd10 constantly reminding me who she is in that first photo. happiest of birthdays to my pr manager and nothing else!
view all 412 comments
user happy birthday y/n the pr manager!!
user a y/n photo dump is my favourite kind!!
user spoil us chris!!
wroetoshaw happy birthday y/n!
faithlouisak my wife's birthday 🤩
ksi happy birthday to the goat
user chris and y/n be sappy challenge
callux the queen! happy birthday!!
vikkstagram happy birthday mrs chris!! thanks for everything
yourinstagram thank your lucky stars you posted all nice pictures or I would've deleted your youtube channel xxxx
user Y/N PLEASE 😭
#chrismd x reader#chrismd#chris michael dixon#chrismd imagine#chrismd oneshot#cel's social media aus#chris dixon x reader
209 notes
·
View notes
Text
What do they get arrested for?
William Killick - probably an unintentional pub brawl he got into after someone made a comment about his girlfriend.
Tommy Shelby - he is so clever he never gets arrested, that is until he is caught for speeding doing 65mph in a 60 zone. He would never live it down.
Oppie - I feel like he could be quite lethal if his wife ever cheated on him, if he met the man that is. Those of you reading ‘Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire’ on here know what I mean.
Lenny Miller - something really minor like possession of marijuana. He uses it to unwind and actually gets caught out being frisked before walking into a government building, forgetting to remove a joint he rolled last night from he suit pocket. Cue a very embarrassing experience.
Roberts Fischer- tax irregularities, but he’d be cleared and released after they figured out it was because one of his accountants made a hopeless blunder.
Neil Lewis - drink and disorderly behaviour, probably after a friends birthday party. He would probably climb a drainpipe with his trousers wrapped around his neck as a cape, insisting he was batman or something.
Jackson Rippner - he’ll never be caught for an assassination, but he might be arrested for that suspicious bank account in the Cayman Islands.
Jim (TDS) - he never gets arrested, but he has had his car towed after parking illegally. What he tries to hide is that it happened in the same place, twice.
#oppenheimer#cillian murphy#oppenheimer x reader#cillian murphy x reader#neil lewis x reader#neil lewis#watching the detectives#lenny miller x reader#lenny miller#anna#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#jonathon crane x reader#jonathon crane#the dark knight trilogy#william killick x reader#william killick#the edge of love#jackson rippner#jackson rippner x reader#inception#robert fischer x reader#robert fischer#oppie
82 notes
·
View notes
Text
Madness - Chapter 19
Surpriiisee. I'm done with the next chapter.
And thank you, you are all so supportive. ❤️
Enjoy! :)
In response to the Great War, dragons claimed the western lands and gryphons the central ones, abandoning the Barrens and the memory of General Daramor, who nearly destroyed the Continent with his army. Our allies sailed home and we began a period of peace and prosperity as the provinces of Navarre united for the first time behind the safety of our wards, under the protection of the first bonded riders.
—Navarre, an Unedited History by Colonel Lewis Markham
What. The. Hell.
It’s as if everyone in the room has turned to stone, but I know that can’t be true. I can see Violet as she moves away from the guy who holds her. I can feel the guy’s warm hand in my hair, his skin malleable under my fingers as I shove his hand away from me.
And…I just stand there. What the hell?!
„Quickly, we need to move!” I wince at Vi’s hoarse voice as she breaks the silence.
Complete, unearthly silence.
The clock on the desk isn’t tickin. No one breathes. Their gazes are frozen. To the left, the woman I sliced open is hunched over, and the man I stabbed is leaned against the wall on the right, staring in horror at his thigh.
I mark time in thunderous heartbeats as we stumble into the only open space in the room, but our path to the now-open door isn’t clear.
Xaden fills the doorway like some kind of dark, avenging angel, the messenger of the queen of the gods. He’s fully dressed, his face a mask of veritable rage as shadows curl from the walls on either side of him, hanging in midair.
For the first time since crossing the parapet, I’m so fucking relieved to see him that I could cry.
Violet gasps beside me – and chaos resumes.
„It’s about damned time.” Aon rumbles.
Xaden’s gaze snaps to mine, his onyx eyes flaring in shock for no longer than a millisecond before he strides forward, his shadows streaming before him as he stands at our side. He snaps his fingers and the room illuminates, mage lights hovering above us.
“You’re all fucking dead.” His voice is eerily calm and all the scarier for it.
Every head in the room turns.
“Riorson!” The man’s dagger clatters to the floor who held Violet.
“You think surrendering will save you?” Xaden’s lethally soft tone sends goose bumps up my arms. “It is against our code to attack another rider in their sleep.”
“But you know he never should have bonded her!” He puts his hands up, his palms facing us. “You of all people have reason enough to want the weakling dead. We’re just correcting a mistake.”
“Dragons don’t make mistakes.” Xaden’s shadows grab every assailant but that man by the throat, then constrict. They struggle, but it doesn’t matter. Their faces turn purple, the shadows holding tight as they sag to their knees, falling in an arc in front of me like lifeless puppets.
I can’t find it in my heart to pity them.
Xaden prowls forward as though he has all the time in the world and holds out his palm as yet another tendril of darkness lifts a discarded dagger from the floor.
“Let me explain.” The man eyes the dagger, and his hands tremble.
“I’ve heard everything I need to hear.” Xaden’s fingers curl around the hilt. “She should have killed, but she’s merciful. That’s not a flaw I possess.” He slashes forward so quickly that I barely catch the move, and his throat opens in a horizontal line, blood streaming down his neck and chest in a torrent.
He grabs for his throat, but it’s useless. He bleeds out in seconds, crumpling to the floor. A crimson puddle grows around him.
“Damn, Xaden.” Garrick walks in, sheathing his sword as his gaze rakes over the room. “No time for questioning?” His glance sweeps to us as if cataloging injuries, catching on my bloodied face.
“No need for it,” Xaden counters as Bodhi enters, doing the same quick assessment Garrick had. The similarity between the cousins still gives me pause. Bodhi has the same bronzed skin and strong brow line, but his features aren’t as angular as Xaden’s, and his eyes are a lighter shade of brown. He looks like a softer, more approachable version of his older cousin, but my body doesn’t heat at the sight of him the way it does around Xaden.
An illogical laugh bubbles up through Violet’s lips, and all three men look at her like she’ve hit her head.
“Let me guess,” Bodhi says, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’re on cleanup?”
“Call in help if you need it,” Xaden answers with a nod.
„Are you okay Vi?” I turn to her and gently grab her arms.
Oh my god. I have a terrible nasal voice. If that man wasn’t already dead I would kill him for breaking my nose.
„I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive.” She repeats it again and again.
„Yes. You’re alive.” Xaden says as he steps over the bodies toward Violet’s armoire with her daggers in his hand.
Garrick and Bodhi haul out the first bodies.
„I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud.” She says and starts shaking like a leaf.
„It’s the shock.” I say gently and move her toward her chair. „Sit. It’ll be better, just breathe.”
„Are you hurt?” Xaden asks while whipping Violet’s cloak from its hook and retrieving a pair of boots. His words are clipped.
Silence.
“Come on, Violence.” His cajoling words are at odds with his terse tone as he folds the cloak over his arm and brings the boots through the remaining bodies he’s left on the floor. “Pull your shit together and tell me where you’re hurt.”
That nickname again.
“You’re breathing like crap, so I’m guessing it has to do with—”
“My ribs,” she finishes before he can guess. “The one by the bed hit the side of my ribs with the sword, but I think they’re just bruised.”
“Must have been a dull sword.” He cocks a dark eyebrow. “Unless it has something to do with why both of you sleep in your leather vest.”
“Trust him,” Aon demands.
“I have trust issues if you couldn’t tell. It’s not that easy.”
“It has to be for now. And I burn him alive if he ever hurts you.”
“It’s dragon-scale.” I say and move so that the light shines on it. “Mira made it for us.”
He glances between our bodies, his mouth tensing before he nods once.
„And you, Sunshine?” He asks before moving in front of me. „That’s a lot of blood.”
„Yeah, well not all of it is mine,” I shrug. „And maybe I pissed one of them off a bit, and he broke my nose.”
„You and your big mouth, Sunshine.” He sighs in exasperation.
Before I can argue that point, his gaze shifts to my face and narrows at what I imagine has to be incipient brusing. “I should have killed him slower.”
„And your ribs? He hit you really hard.” Violet asks from her seat.
„Sunshine?” Xaden asks with a raised eyebrow.
I sigh. Fine. „It hurts a little but my face is worse than that. Not worth mentioning.”
“Never lie to me.” He says it with such ferocity, bit out through gritted teeth.
„I would promise, but there are secrets I can’t tell you.” I whisper and I can hear the sadness in my voice. „Sometimes I have to put my life first. Secrets can kill you in the wrong hands.”
He looks at me with an indecipherable look, then nods.
„Then be honest with me when you can.” He says quietly and his gazes softens.
My heart flutters.
“My nose hurts, and my ribs too.” I admit.
“Let me see.” I open and shut my mouth twice. I don’t know what to say and I simply nod. I’m tired of arguing. I let him do what he wants. At least tonight I don’t have to control everything.
Two other men walk in through the open door, Garrick and Bodhi following closely after. They’re all…dressed. Fully clothed at—I glance at the clock—two a.m.
“Take those two, and we’ll get the last ones,” Garrick orders, and the others get to work, carrying the last of the bodies out through the door. I can’t help but notice they all have rebellion relics shimmering up their arms, but I keep the observation to myself.
“Thank you,” Xaden says, then flicks his hand and the door shuts with a soft click. “Now, let me see your injuries. We’re wasting time.” He turns to Violet. „And you… go and get dressed.”
She must be quite shaken up because with a glance at me she goes to her armoire and does as he said.
I swallow, then nod.
He cradles my face in his hands and tilts my head to observe my face. I flinch when he lightly touch my nose.
„Sorry, Sunshine. But it’s not that bad.” He slowly drops his hand. „Nolon can mend it in the morning. Now let me see your ribs.”
I sigh. Better to know now if they’re broken anyway. I turn my back on him, but I can see his face in the full-length mirror. “You’ll have to—”
“I know how to handle a corset.” His jaw flexes once, and something that reminds me of raw hunger flitters across his expression before he locks it down, drawing my hair over my shoulder with surprising gentleness.
His fingers skim my bare skin and I suppress a shiver, locking my muscles so I don’t arch into his touch.
What the hell is wrong with me? There’s still blood on the floor, on me and yet my breaths are tight for the entirely wrong reason as he makes quick work of the laces, starting at the bottom. He wasn’t lying. He absolutely knows his way around a corset.
“How the hell do you get yourself into this thing every morning?” he asks, clearing his throat as inch after inch of my back is exposed.
“I’m freakishly flexible.” I answer over my shoulder and laugh at him. Our eyes meet, and warmth flutters through my stomach. The moment is gone as quickly as it came, and he pulls my armor apart, inspecting my right side. Gentle fingers stroke over the abused ribs, then prod carefully. Then he repeats it on the other side.
“You have one hell of a bruise, but I don’t think they’re broken.”
“That’s what I thought. Thank you for checking.” It should be awkward, but somehow it isn’t, even as he laces me back up, securing the ends.
“You’ll live.” He says as I turn around to face him.
„I’m ready. Where are we going?” Violet asks, and I can feel myself blushing.
Oh my god. She saw it all.
„Well… I should go and get dressed to. I’m not exactly decent.” I look at my corset and short.
„We don’t have time.” Xaden shakes his head. „Here, put it on.” He says as he shrugs off his flight jacket and gives it to me.
Without a word I take it from him.
“Let’s go.” He helps me put it on, like I’m something precious. Now I know I’m hallucinating it because I’m anything but precious to Xaden Riorson. He grasps my hand and tugs me into the hallway, Violet following us. His fingers are strong as they curl around mine, his grip firm but not too tight.
He gave me his jacket. It’s huge, and it has such a nice smell. It’s his scent. Mint and leather.
Every other door is shut. The attack wasn’t even loud enough to rouse the neighbors. We’d be dead by now if Xaden hadn’t shown up, even if we managed to get out of their hold. But how did that happen?
“Where are we going?” The hallways are dimly lit by blue mage lights, the kind that signal it’s still night for those without windows.
“Keep talking loud enough for others to hear, and someone will stop us before we get anywhere.”
“Can’t you just hide us in shadows or something?” Violet asks.
“Sure, because a giant black cloud moving down the hallway isn’t going to look more suspicious than a couple sneaking around, and you’re so small Violet, that nobody will notice you if you stay behind us.” He shoots us a look that keeps us from countering.
Point taken.
Not that we’re a couple.
Not that I wouldn’t climb the man like a tree if presented with the right set of circumstances. I cringe as we make it to the main hallway of the dormitory. There will never, ever be a right set of circumstances when it comes to him.
But in my defense, and in a sick, twisted way, his rescue was pretty damned hot, even if he is hauling me down the hallway at an untenable speed. Even if he only did it because Violet’s life is tied to his. My chest screams for a break, but there’s none to be found as he leads us past the spiral staircase that leads up to the second- and third-year dorms and into the rotunda.
Our boots against the marble floor are the only sounds as we pass into the academic wing. Instead of turning left, toward the sparring gym, he takes us right, down a set of stairs that I know leads to storage.
Halfway down the steps, he pauses, and I nearly run into the sword strapped to his back. Then he gestures with his right hand, keeping mine in his left.
Click. Xaden pushes on the stones and a hidden door swings open.
“Holy shit,” I whisper at the expansive tunnel revealed before us.
“Hope you’re not afraid of the dark.” He pulls me inside, and suffocating darkness envelops us as the door closes.
This is fine. This is absolutely fine. Just breathe.
“But just in case you are,” Xaden says, his voice at full volume as he snaps. A mage light hovers above our head, illuminating our surroundings.
“Thanks.” The tunnel is supported by arches of stone and the floor is smooth, as though it’s been traveled more than its entrance lets on. It smells like earth but isn’t dank, and it goes on for what seems like an eternity.
He drops my hand and starts walking. “Keep up.”
“You could—” Violet winces. “Be a little more considerate.” We trudge after him.
“I’m not going to baby you like Aetos does,” he says without turning around. “That’s only going to get you killed once we get out of Basgiath.”
“He doesn’t baby me.”
“He does and you know it. You hate it, too, if the vibe I’m picking up on is any indication.” He falls back to walk at our side. “Or did I read that wrong?”
“He thinks this place is too dangerous for someone…like me, and after what just happened, I’m not sure I can really argue with him. I was asleep. That’s the only time we’re supposed to be guaranteed safety around here. I don’t think I’ll bother sleeping again.” she shoots a look sideways at his profile. “And if you even think about suggesting that you sleep with me for safety from now on—”
He scoffs. “Hardly. I don’t fuck first-years—even when I was one—let alone…you.”
Ouch. There goes my fantasies. I’m a first-year after all. But deep in my heart I’m glad, that he is not attracted to Violet.
“Who said anything about fucking?” She fires back. “I’d have to be a masochist to sleep with you, and I can assure you, I’m not.”
“Masochist, huh?” A corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk.
“You hardly give off snuggly morning-after vibes.” A smile curves on her lips. “Unless you’re worried about me killing you while we sleep.” We round a corner, and the tunnel continues.
“I have zero concern about that. As violent as you are, and skilled with those daggers, I’m not even sure you could kill a fly. Don’t think I didn’t notice that you managed to wound them and never went for a kill shot.” He shoots a disapproving look her way.
“I’ve never killed anyone,” She whispers like it’s a secret.
“You’re going to have to get over that. All we are after graduation are weapons, and it’s best if we’re honed before leaving the gates.”
„That’s enough, both of you. You argue like children.” I roll my eyes. “Is that where we’re going? Are we leaving the gates?” I ask Xaden. I’ve lost all sense of direction in here.
“We’re going to ask Tairn what the hell just happened.” Xaden’s jaw flexes. “And I’m not talking about the attack. How the hell did they get past the locks?”
Violet shrugs but doesn’t explain.
“We’d better figure it out so it doesn’t happen again. I refuse to sleep on your fucking floor like some kind of guard dog.”
“Wait. This is another way to the flight field?” I do my best to mentally wall off the pain in my face. “Will you be there too?” I ask Aon.
“Naturally.”
“Are you going to tell me what that was in there?”
“I would if I knew.”
“Yes,” Xaden says, and the path curves again. “It’s not exactly common knowledge. And I’m going to ask you to tuck this little tunnel into the file of secrets you keep on my behalf.”
“Let me guess, and you’ll know if I tell?”
“Yes.” Another smirk appears, and I look away before he can catch me staring.
“Are you going to promise us another favor?” Violet asks. The path begins to climb, and the ascent is anything but gentle. Every breath reminds me of what happened less than an hour ago.
“Having one of my favors is more than enough, and we’ve already reached mutually assured destruction status, Sorrengail. Now, can you push through it, or do you need me to carry you?”
“That sounds like an insult, not an offer.”
“You’re catching on.” But his pace slows to match ours.
“What were you doing tonight anyway?” I ask curiously.
“What makes you ask?” His tone clearly insinuates that I shouldn’t. Too bad.
“You made it to Violet’s room within minutes, and you’re not exactly dressed for sleeping.” He’s strapped with a sword for crying out loud.
“Maybe I sleep in my armor, too.”
“Then you should pick more trustworthy bedmates.”
He snorts, a flash of a smile appearing for a heartbeat. A real one. Not the fake, forced sneer I’m used to seeing or the cocky little smirk. An honest, heart- stopping smile that I’m anything but immune to. It’s gone as fast as it appears, though.
“So you’re not going to tell me?” I ask. I’d be frustrated if I didn’t hurt so damned much. And I’m not even going to touch why he needed to haul us all the way to Tairn when obviously Violet can chat with him anytime she wants.
Unless he wants to talk to Tairn, which is…ballsy.
“Nope. Third-year business.” He lets go when we reach the stonewalled end of the tunnel. A few hand gestures and another click sounds before he pushes open the door.
We step out into crisp, freezingly cold November air.
“What the hell,” I whisper. The door is built into a stack of boulders on the eastern side of the field.
“It’s camouflaged.” Xaden waves a hand and the door closes, blending into the rock as if it’s a part of it.
There’s a sound I now recognize as the steady beat of wings, and I look up to see the four dragons block out the stars as they descend. The earth shudders as they land in front of us.
Tairn steps forward and Sgaeyl follows, her wings tucked in tight, her golden eyes narrowing on me.
„What have I done?” I ask Aon.
He stands next to Sgaeyl and snaps at her.
„Do not worry about it, little one. She’s always so grumpy.”
I try to disguise my laughter as a cough.
Andarna scurries between Sgaeyl’s claws, galloping toward us. She skids the last dozen feet, paws digging into the ground to stop just in front of Violet, bringing her nose to her ribs.
„What’s so funny?” Xaden looks at me.
„Aon. He said Sgaeyl is always grumpy. But so is he.” I smile at Aon. „They siblings after all.”
Sgaeyl turns her head and shots a menacing look toward Aon, before she lowers her head and stares at me.
She’s so close. I have never been so close to another dragon. But I keep eye contact with her. I’m not weak.
She huffs a breath in… approval?
“No broken bones,” I hear Violet, as she strokes her hand over the bumpy ridges of Andarna’s head. “They’re just bruised.”
“As sure as I can be.” She forces a smile.
“Yes, I want a word. What the hell kind of powers are you channeling to her?” Xaden demands, staring up at Tairn like he isn’t…Tairn.
Yep. Ballsy. Every muscle in my body locks, sure that Tairn is about to torch Xaden for impudence.
“He says—” Violet starts.
“I heard him,” Xaden counters, not sparing her a glance.
“You what?” My eyebrows hit my hairline, and Andarna retreats to stand with the others. Dragons only talk to their riders. That’s what I’ve always been taught.
“It’s absolutely my business when you expect me to protect her,” Xaden retorts, his voice rising.
Tairn’s head swivels in that snakelike motion that puts me on alert. He’s more than agitated.
“And I barely made it.” The words come out clipped through clenched teeth. “They would have been dead if I’d been thirty seconds later.”
Tairn’s chest rumbles with a growl.
“And I’d like to know what the fuck happened in there!”
I inhale sharply. „Xaden!” I shout and grab his arm. „Do you want to get yourself killed?”
I’ve never seen someone so much as dare to speak to another rider’s dragon, yet alone yell at one, especially not one as powerful as Tairn.
„Let him go. If Tairn wants to kill him, let him do it. I don’t want to look for another rider.” Aon steps closer to us.
„I knew that you love me.” I wink at him. „But I can’t watch it. All four are connected to each other. And Violet is important to me.”
„Just her?”
“We need to know what happened in that room.” Xaden’s dark gaze cuts through me like a knife for a millisecond before he glares back at Tairn.
Tairn’s mouth opens, his tongue curling in a motion I know all too well.
I pull on Xaden’s arm and I step in front of him.
„I’m so sorry that he’s rude to you, Tairn.” I say in my most polite voice. „He’s just a little freaked out. Don’t scorch him, please.”
In awe, Violet blinks up at the navy-blue daggertail as Xaden moves to my side. “She talked to me.”
“I know. I heard.” He folds his arms across his chest. “It’s because they’re mates. It’s the same reason I’m chained to you.”
What? They can…talk to each other? My chest hurts. Theoretically I knew it that they have a connection, but hearing it… it hurts.
I step away from them and I go over to Aon.
„Why am I here?” I ask him. „I mean I can’t hear half of the discussion.”
„I wanted to see you, to know that you’re all right.” He lowers his head and nudges me with his nose. „And unfortunately it seems the wingleader cares about you.”
„What? How do you know that?” I ask as I pet his nose.
„Sgaeyl likes to gossip. Now concentrate on the conversation, little one.”
I look at him in disbelief, but I nod and walk back to the others.
“You make it sound so pleasant.”
“It’s not.” Xaden turns to face Violet. “But you and I are exactly that, Violence. We’re chained. Tethered. You die, I die, so I damn well deserve to know how the hell you were under that man’s knife one second and across the room in another. Is that the signet power you’ve manifested with Tairn? Come clean. Now.” His eyes bore into her.
“I don’t know what happened,” She answers honestly.
Violet pivots to face the golden dragon, repeating what she said to us. „Nature likes all things in balance, that’s the first thing we’re taught.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Xaden asks Violet, not her.
Guess that means he can hear Tairn, but not Andarna.
“Feathertails shouldn’t bond because they can accidentally gift their powers to humans,” Violet continues. “Dragons can’t channel—not really—until we’re…they’re big, but they’re all born with something special.”
She relays the message. “Like a signet?” She asks out loud so Xaden and I can hear.
“Sgaeyl said, that no,” Aon tells me. “A signet is a combination of our power with your own ability to channel. It reflects who you are at the core of your being.”
Andarna sits up and tilts her head proudly.
“But I gave my gift directly to you. Because I’m still a feathertail.” Violet repeats again, staring at the smaller dragon. Almost nothing is known about feathertails because they’re never seen outside the Vale.
They’re guarded. They’re… I swallow. Wait. What did she say?
“You’re still a feathertail?” I look at Andarna in desbelief.
She blinks slowly and then cracks a yawn, her forked tail curling.
“You’re…you’re a hatchling,” Violet whispers.
Oh. Gods.
“She’s a what?” Xaden’s gaze swings between Andarna and Violet.
“How much faster?” Violet gasps. “She’s two years old!”
Sgaeyl chuffs at Andarna in obvious disapproval.
What an interesting conversation. I can’t hear half of what they say. Whatever, I will ask Vi later.
“Hold on. Is Andarna yours?” Xaden walks a step toward Sgaeyl, and the tone in his voice is one I’ve never heard. He’s…hurt. “Have you hidden a hatchling away from me these last two years?”
Sgaeyl blows out a blast of air that ruffles Xaden’s hair.
I look at Aon questioningly.
„Her parents passed before hatching.” He answers.
Tairn grumbles.
“Unpredictable?” Xaden questions.
“Gods, no. I could barely control it as a first-year.” Xaden shakes his head.
It’s odd to imagine Xaden ever not being in control.
“I would never!” Violet shakes her head.
Andarna’s head flops against Tairn’s leg. How could I not see it before now? Her rounded eyes, her paws…
“Of course, you wouldn’t know. Feathertails aren’t supposed to be seen,” Aon says.
“If leadership knew riders could take her gifts for themselves, rather than depending on their own signets…” Xaden says, staring at Andarna as she blinks slower and slower.
“She’d be hunted,” Violet finishes quietly.
“I won’t,” Violet promises as she looks toward the dragons. “Andarna, thank you. Whatever you did saved our lives.”
Her mouth drops open into another jaw-cracking yawn.
Violet stares at her and wobbles.
“What did she say?” Xaden asks her.
Tarin grumbles.
“Tell me what she said. Please.” His mouth tightens and I know that last bit cost him.
“She can pause time,” She forces out, stumbling over her words. “Briefly.”
Xaden’s features slacken, and for the first time, he doesn’t look like the stalwart, lethal wingleader I met on the parapet. He’s flat-out shocked as his gaze swings to Andarna. “You can stop time?”
“In small increments,” Vi whispers.
“In small increments,” Xaden echoes slowly, like he’s absorbing the information.
“And if I use it too much, I can kill you,” Violet says softly to Andarna.
Silence, then Violet breaks it.
“Is Professor Carr going to kill me, too?” Every gaze whips toward Violet.
“Why would you think that?” I ask her with concern.
“He killed Jeremiah.” She says in a trembling voice. “You saw him snap his neck like a twig right in front of the whole quadrant.”
“Jeremiah was an inntinnsic.” Xaden’s voice lowers. “A mind reader is a capital offense. You know that.”
“And what are they going to do if they find out I can stop time?”
Terror freezes the blood in my veins. “They’re not going to find out,” I promise her.
“No one is going to tell them. Not you. Not me. Not Aelin. Not them.” Xaden motions with one hand toward our dragons. “Understand?”
„Be safe, little one.” Aon says as they all bend slightly, then launch, wind gusting against my face. Andarna struggles, her wings beating twice as hard, and Tairn flies up underneath her, taking her weight and continuing on to the Vale.
“Promise me you won’t tell anyone about the time-stopping,” Xaden asks Violet as we head back into the tunnel, but it feels an awful lot like a command. “It’s not just for your safety. Rare abilities, when kept secret, are the most valuable form of currency we possess.”
My brow furrows as I study the stark lines of the rebellion relic that winds up his neck, marking him as a traitor’s son, warning everyone that he’s not to be trusted. But so far he has proven to be more reliable than my own father.
“We need to figure out how unbonded cadets got in your room,” Xaden says.
“There was a rider there,” Violet tells us. “Someone who ran away before Aelin arrived. She must have unlocked it from the outside.”
“Who?” I halt, taking her elbow gently and turning her toward us.
She shakes her head.
“At some point, you and I are going to have to start trusting each other, Sorrengail. The rest of our lives depend on it.” Fury swims in Xaden’s eyes. “Now tell me who.”
„Tell us, Vi. You know I will always believe you.” I say softly. „Who else was there?”
#fourth wing#fanfiction#fourth wing fanfic#the fourth wing#violet sorrengail#xaden riorson#oc#the empyrean#xaden x oc#xaden riorson x oc#tairn#sgaeyl#dragons#andarna#madness
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Whoops, I got incredibly attached to my Lethal Company Sunshine Lewis
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ah! Canon accurate Lethal Lewis jumpscare!
Like I said before, I didn't change much, just the colors, flames, and his anchor. I especially wanted to change his anchor because in The Future it becomes gray and cracked, so it didn't really make sense for it to suddenly be lively again :/ plus I wanted to show off Reverb's possession through it sense that is how Lewis gets possessed in the first place. (Fun Fact: his anchor is so sharp now, you could cut yourself on it :))
Dreadbeats! Little guys! Will steal your wallet if you aren't careful! (Fun Fact: their smiles are permanent :))
Below the cut are transparent versions :3
#faux art ✨️#mystery skulls#mystery skulls animated#msa lewis#lewis pepper#msa ???#msa reverb#lethal lewis#dreadbeats#tw eye contact#eye contact#he's shaped like a dorito chip XD#msa au
286 notes
·
View notes
Text
they call me lewis mccartney on account of my. lethal levels of trans swag and obsession with mermaid lore
181 notes
·
View notes
Note
47 - yuki n pierre
47: games
“Did you see the Reapings?”
Lewis shrugs off his coat, throwing it over the hook by the door. He leaves his boots, thick soled and steel capped, beside Valtteri’s scuffed dirty ones. “Yeah, as I was going down on the Councillor, he was watching the broadcast,” he scoffs, rolling his eyes.
Valtteri leans his head back on the couch cushion, the low blue light of the tv soft across his cheeks. His neck is a long line of pale skin. He grins. “I don’t know how good you are. Could be a bit boring.”
Lewis hums, walking over, feet socked and quiet on the carpet, hands coming down to either side of Valtteri’s face. He ducks down until he can count freckles, memorise the blond sweep of his lashes.
“I can give you a demonstration if you want.”
Valtteri’s smile widens, quirking up at the corners. “Pity I don’t have any secrets left to give you.”
Lewis laughs for the first time today, throat dry, and swings himself over the couch. His elbow knocks into Valtteri’s hip who just shifts so Lewis is leaning more against him, the cushion dipping slightly between them. “Yeah,” Lewis says, turning to face him. “A pity.”
Valtteri only raises his left thigh a little so Lewis has an easier time sneaking his cold toes under, before turning the volume up. “Watch,” he says, and Lewis watches.
—
“Your boy is a shit liar.”
Sebastian grins and says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” even as he swallows back a wince at the barely a peck of a kiss that Pierre gives Yuki.
God, he’s seen better chemistry between Jenson and a microphone. Lewis laughs as if he knows what Seb is thinking.
He sprawls beside him. Lewis’s woolen jumper, something burnt orange and deep blue, is soft against Seb’s bare arms. Lewis takes his glass and knocks back half of it, frowning slightly when he realises it’s water.
Seb makes sure to keep his eyes on Lewis’s face, ignoring how his hands don’t shake because Lewis’s hands never shake, not when he drove that trident through his ally’s chest before they could kill him, not when he crowned that Victor of his a few years previous who laughed when they gutted the tribute Lewis had been mentoring. Lewis’s hands don’t shake, not then, not now, but his knuckles are bone white where he's holding the glass, and he’s moving like he’s forgotten how much space his body takes up.
He’s just been from a client then, Sebastian knows. A bad one.
So, he knocks his shoulders into Lewis’s, ignoring the heat and smell of him, and rolls his eyes when Lewis calls Pierre ‘Peter’. He knows Lewis knows. And Lewis knows Seb knows that he knows.
—
The cannon goes off and Pierre’s world tilts on its side. He breaks into a run, forgetting the bird, forgetting about the three other Tributes hiding somewhere in this arena, screaming Yuki’s name.
Yuki slams into him, shoulder jamming under Pierre’s arm. The force of him nearly knocks Pierre over. His eyes are wide and terrified. It’s like looking in a mirror.
Yuki’s hands are warm and damp on Pierre’s forearms. The liquid looks suspiciously like blood. Pierre blinks. Nightlock, he thinks. I could’ve lost him, he thinks.
“Did you eat that?” Pierre asks and Yuki’s eyes are so fucking wide as he shakes his head.
“Are you stupid,” Pierre tries not to scream at him but he doesn’t think he succeeds. “That shit is lethal, Yuki, what were you thinking?”
“I.” There’s a slight cut along the side of Yuki’s nose, bruised dark along his neck, and his hands are covered with berries, not blood. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
Pierre grabs him, digging his fingers into Yuki’s shoulders, hair soft and dirty against his jaw. He smells of earth and sweat and blood. He smells of death. Pierre can’t breathe around this feeling. “You scared me,” he says, quietly into his hair and Yuki holds him right back. It feels like a secret even with all these cameras around them, picking up on the slight change in their breathes.
You’re mine, Pierre thinks. You’re mine now.
—
Lewis watches as Pierre holds one of his hands up to his mouth, the berries dark and small in his palm, eyes bright and clear. That’s a dead man’s stare, Lewis thinks and the thought sounds like Niki. Pierre’s other hand is gripping Yuki’s wrist tightly, pressing the berries against his lips, knuckles bone white. Yuk i is watching him, something that looks like awe and this horrible kind of grief in his face.
Sebastian is still beside him, hands tucked under his legs as he leans forward in his seat. Lewis slouches, yawning, letting his legs fall open, ankle brushing off of Sebastian’s. Valtteri knocks back the rest of his drink, looking at the tablet in his hand. Sebastian’s shoulders relax.
The speaker in the arena crackles and the boys’ hands stop moving. Yuki is still watching Pierre as the taller man grins, quick and quiet and folded back into a frown in a blink. Lewis bites his cheek and leaves his foot where it is.
—
“I did know Arthur. He wasn’t just my ally. He was my friend. I see him in the flowers that grow in the meadow by my house. I hear him in the mockingjay’s song. I see him in my brother, Charles. He was too young. Too gentle. And I couldn’t save him. I’m sorry.”
Pierre stands there, broken and small, thousands of eyes trained on him. He does not blink.
He tucks his hands into his pockets so they cannot see them shake.
—
“Actually, I painted a picture of Arthur,” Yuki says, “How he looked after Pierre had covered him in flowers.”
There’s a long pause at the table while everyone absorbs thus. “And what exactly were you trying to accomplish?” Sebastian asks in a very measured voice.
“I’m not sure. I just wanted to hold them accountable, if only for a moment,” says Yuki. “For killing that kid.”
—
“We’re a team, aren’t we?” Jenson asks, blue lining his eyes, cheeks hollowed and glittering. His eyes are wide and sad but his voice doesn’t shake. “And I’m so proud of my victors. So proud.”
There is a mockingjay curled around his left ear, the metal unusually dull and grey. “You both deserved so much better.”
Jenson looks them both in the eye, jaw tight, lips pressed white. “I am truly sorry.”
—
“What did he want?”
Yuki’s face is closely shaved, skin dry and smooth. Pierre wants to run his finger along the line of his jaw. He’s grinning, eyes bright.
“To know all my secrets.”
Pierre laughs, impossibly light and easy, as Yuki rolls his eyes and says, “He’ll have to get in line.” Yuki’s smile grows smug and small at the sound.
—
Pierre is looking at him like the world has come to an end. Lewis knows exactly what that feels like, and Pierre still has a lot of losing left to do if the world is ending.
—
Making knots. Making knots. No word. Making knots. Tick-tock. This is a clock.
Do not think of Valtteri. Do not think of George. Do not think of Yuki. Making knots. They do not want dinner.
Fingers raw and bleeding.
Lewis finally gives up and assumes the hunched position he took in the arena when the jabberjays attacked. Pierre perfects his miniature noose. The words of The Hanging Tree replay in his head. Valtteri and George and Yuki. Yuki and George and Valtteri.
“Did you love Sebastian right away?” Pierre asks.
“No.” A long time passes before Lewis adds, “He crept up on me.”
—
The bread had been burnt and tough. It had gone down sharp when Pierre had eaten it after the boy had ran back into the shop, eyes dark and hair wet. It had tasted of muck.
Pierre had opened his mouth, tilting his head back, when he finished, drinking down the rainwater.
The weeks after Yuki chokes him, his throat stings and scratches, like it had when he ate that bread.
—
George is laughing, mumbling to himself. Pierre doesn’t bother trying to stop the door from slamming shut behind him. George doesn’t look over.
He’s stealing the morphine from the drip of the patient beside him, Pierre realises. He drops in a nearby chair. His head hurts. So does his throat.
“Don’t you have your own?”
His voice still sounds weird.
George rolls his eyes, a flash of movement in a thin face. He has lost all colour. They’ve bleached it out of him somehow. His cheeks cut into his mouth.
“They’re cheap bastards, this thirteenth district. Don’t you know we’re victors!” He cackles, one arm throwing back in a grandiose gesture to an audience that isn’t there. His wrists are bony and bruised. The words echo.
Pierre leans back in his seat, feet kicked up on the bed, and closes his eyes.
He’s nearly asleep when he feels a blanket tucking around his ankles.
—
“You think I will lose?”
Everything he had said back then had come out as a fight, a stretched out fist waiting to be tapped so he could throw the first punch. Except when he was in front of the cameras. There he could make himself sound sweet and small and just the right kind of feral.
Michael Schumacher had laughed, a bruise faint under makeup along his jaw, a glass of clear liquid in his hand. Lewis would’ve bet his right hand that it was water even if Michael was doing a fantastic job at the glassy eyed slack mouthed look.
“No,” Michael had said, shoulders broad, voice clear. He had looked Lewis dead in the eye, the younger man half his size, and there had been something quiet and tired in his face. “No, I don’t think you will.”
He had been the only one who hadn’t. The only one who looked at a just barely fourteen year old boy and saw someone willing to do anything, to do it all, and was able to do it to get back home.
There are so many things Lewis would’ve liked to have asked Michael. Would’ve liked to have known what it was about watching Lewis win, watching and helping Sebastian win two years later, that made him pack up and run, his kid under his arm.
Though, Lewis thinks, watching Mick sweep his arm across the war table, their pieces devastatingly small compared to the Capitols, hair shorn short, cheeks thin. If he’s being honest with himself, he already knows.
—
“There’s still time. You should sleep.”
Unresisting, Yuki lies back down, but stares at the needle on one of the dials as it twitches from side to side.
Slowly as he would with a wounded animal, Pierre’s hand stretches out and brushes a wave of hair from his forehead. Yuki freezes at his touch, but doesn’t recoil. So Pierre continues to smooth back his hair. It’s the first time he has voluntarily touched Yuki since the last arena.
“You’re still trying to protect me. Real or not real,” he whispers.
“Real,” Pierre replies. It doesn’t feel like enough. “Because that’s what you and I do. Protect each other.”
After a minute or so, he drifts off to sleep.
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
Favorite Evil Doppelganger Villains
Negaduck - Of the "Evil Twin" variety, we have Negaduck from Darkwing Duck. Something of a parody of Reverse Flash, Negaduck cuts straight to the point of his trope by being pure, cartoonishly, over-the-top evil in a way that is both hilarious and genuinely menacing. This is mostly due to Jim Cummings' voicework, as the cold, snarling, raspy voice he gives the character can easily flip from lovably gleeful in his evil-doing to murderously serious on a dime. And I'm not kidding about the murder part: guns, chainsaws, flamethrowers, bombs, you name it...there's no weapon Negaduck won't brandish with lethal intent. Whether it be in Darkwing Duck, DuckTales (2017), or his new comic series, Negaduck is always a blast.
Yami Bakura - Of the "Superpowered Evil Side" variety, we have the Spirit of the Millennium Ring, aka Yami Bakura, from Yu-Gi-Oh!. Possessing the gentle, kind and soft-spoken Ryou Bakura is the exact opposite: the 3,000 year-old spirit of a brazen and psychotic but cunning tomb robber that has been assimilated into the soul of a demonic god. What makes Yami Bakura such a great villain isn't just how evil he is or how smart he is or the lengths he's willing to sink to in pursuit of his goals...it's just how long he is willing to play the game. It takes 230 chapters (manga) and 188 episodes (anime) between his introduction and the final story arc for Yami Bakura to have everything he needs to set his master plan in motion, but he is patient enough to wait that long, and the pay-off is more than worth it. Add to that stellar voice-acting from both Rica Matsumoto and Ted Lewis, and you have a villain to remember.
#Disney#Darkwing Duck#Yu-Gi-Oh!#Negaduck#Yami Bakura#Evil#Villains#Opinion#Analysis#My All-Time Favorite Villains
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
"Theorist Grégoire Chamayou has described the contemporary paradigm of drone warfare as having instigated a “crisis in military ethos,” transforming the terms and terrain of engagement altogether as it proposes an unstable approach to acceptable targets. In an era of the global war against terror, Chamayou writes:
Armed violence has lost its traditional limits: indefinite in time, it is also indefinite in space. The whole world, it is said, is a battlefield. But it would probably be more accurate to call it a hunting ground. For if the scope of armed violence has now become global, it is because the imperatives of hunting demand it.
In this description, the remote killing characteristic of drone warfare is not just a safe or expedient means of carrying out war as before—this technical innovation corresponds to a new and rapidly shifting geographical model, where violence is no longer limited to demarcated combat zones but simply licensed by the presence of an enemy prey, “who carries with it its own little mobile zone of hostility.” State sovereignty and territorial integrity are contingent features of this model of warfare, and can be violated at will by an imperial hunter whose technical power and jurisdiction operates vertically.
The geopolitical layers of this methodology are many and complex: for example, the MQ-9 Reaper drone that killed Soleimani was likely launched from Qatar, but operated from Clark County, Nevada, where self-proclaimed “hunter” pilots proceeded to attack a diplomatically protected target visiting a third country with whom they were not at war—at least nominally. At the very least, this is novel; but the legal ramifications must be known.
As noted, Israel’s assassination of Arouri strikingly coincides with the anniversary of the Trump administration’s killing of Soleimani, which was justified in turn with reference to Bush Jr.’s extralegal innovations. But these Republican presidencies flank the drastic expansion of jurisdictionally ambiguous drone warfare under President Obama, whose office presumed authority to use lethal force outside of legally defined combat zones on an unprecedented scale during a “global” war on terror. These policies drew heavy criticism from international legal observers, as the Obama administration authorized more than 500 drone strikes in Pakistan, Somalia, Yemen, and beyond—locations where the situation, however grave, could hardly be described as one of armed conflict between organized groups. Lacking such criteria, the years of drone attacks around the world appear not only deadly, but illegal.
Even so, lawyers love an ignoble cause; and this remote assassin’s paradigm keeps many of them entertained. Legal scholar Michael W. Lewis argues that the application of international humanitarian law to the transnational deployment of drones constitutes an unacceptable constraint, where “it would effectively grant sanctuary to and confer an important strategic advantage upon unprivileged belligerents,” themselves apparently excepted from the protections of the Geneva Convention.
These are the sticking points of any legal theory of the drone, and the cause for which apologists must seek a portable state of exception, adhering to individual targets as they move about the world. Jonathan Horowitz and Naz Modirzadeh describe the seemingly contradictory situation of a “transnational non-international armed conflict,” where the law of armed conflict is analogized to a cloud, hovering above the head of an itinerant prey."
– cam scott, "israel's drone age"
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
A self-indulgent MSA x DP crossover. Oneshot.
@solitaria-fantasma
Vivi’s hair at the back of her nape stood up.
She had ventured into her fair share of creepy basements. Only three of them had been hidden in average houses – although she could argue nothing about the Fenton’s house was ‘average’.
She didn't even mean the eye-searing ad bolted (?) to the house's roof. Between the automatic anti-ghost defense system and the fridge’s contents, this house was worryingly high on the list of ‘most haunted places I’ve ever encountered’.
But it was just their luck warning signals only were blaring in her mind in the fourth basement of an average seeming house.
She tightened her hand around her bat. The parents had left for a ghost convention several states over. Tucker was monitoring their phones so they wouldn’t receive any surprise meetings. She still felt watched as she hopped the last steps down. Her whole body jittered with nerves.
Looming at the lab’s far back was the reason for her dread.
A massive octagonal metal door covered almost the entire wall. Various warnings signs had been slapped across the surface, but less than there should be in her opinion.
The door was the source of the humming. Vivi fiddled with Obaa-chan’s newest protective charm. The humming had settled inside her teeth when she passed the basement door, but she had ignored it while checking the floors.
The hum grew heavy as the door opened, revealing the other side was unpainted lead.
It had become louder when she descended the stairs.
Where the fuck were the security measures compared to the upper floors? Even without this supposed portal, the Dres. Fenton were working with dangerous chemicals and weapons! Even Tempo High had had better lab safety when she was in school.
But. Oh wow. She ticked off a mental tally of the number of lethal weapons laying around on tables or hanging on the walls, just ready to be stolen. She adjusted her assessment of danger-
Focus. She had promised Jazz and Danny not to do anything but reconnaissance. Or first wave reconnaissance. It wouldn’t do anything to check out this place if the defense system attacked Lewis or Mystery or Arthur. She idly swung her bat in a vertical circle, carefully making her way to the side of the portal.
The power was there. Immense power. Familiar, from other tears into other realities she had encountered with the Mystery Skulls, although this one was still unique. They rarely encountered portals into afterlives, and this one radiated death. But not only. It made sense as that not every ‘ghost’ people called as such was the spirit of a dead person. Supernatural beings could come into existence in various ways.
And yet the portal was different. Most portals, even artificial ones, closed quickly if magic didn’t keep them open. Vivi sensed no such magic from the door.
Inhaling, she let some of her powers flow through her. She passed her free palm in the air across the door, snow crystals forming and melting in the same moment. A simply scan spell.
Still nothing. Only the energy from the tear itself, rather what was containing it.
Crud. Mystery would have kittens.
Was this truly technology only? Just how had the Dres. Fenton achieved that?!
Vivi needed more help in figuring this out. Definitely Arthur, and the kids. Even if their parents had forgotten to document the process how they developed this portal, between the two younger Fentons and Arthur and maybe Mystery, they could figure out this thing.
She hoped, at least.
#mystery skulls animated#vivi yukino#danny phantom#msa x dp#dp x msa#mystery skulls animated au#mystery skulls animated crossover
17 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
castafae
castafae
girlblocker
let's push their stories aside;
starstruckvega
Dyke (Flattering)
toeppes
Unbetitelt
ryosakurai31
Ryo