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spookyserenades · 2 months

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Valentines day special or drabble 👉👈 IM SORRY DANA IM A WHORE FOR UR WRITING OK!

DON'T BE SORRY LOVE!!! 💕 💗 💖 (this is for u!)

“Once again, I think I’ve gone overboard,” Y/N muttered to herself, hauling two ludicrously large, heavy shopping backs out of her car, trying her best to avoid the black ice slicking up the driveway.

The morning of Valentine’s Day, Y/N claimed she was simply shuffling outside to check the mailbox, hoping no one said anything about the fact that she had stuffed her car keys in her pocket.

She wasn’t really one to celebrate the holiday in the past. However, ever since her hybrids swept into her life, she made a vow to celebrate every holiday with perhaps a corny amount of enthusiasm. Hence, why she was lugging enough Valentine chocolate into the house to feed a village.

Huffing, she followed the voices that were echoing in the kitchen, kicking off her snow-coated boots as she went. The crinkling of the paper bags had the voices not too far off quieting down, Y/N grinning as she entered the room, the scent of sugared berries and pancakes filling her nose.

She had waited until each of the hybrids had slunk into the kitchen for breakfast, the only one aware that it was a holiday being Hoseok, who had dressed in every red-and-pink item he owned. Jeongguk, rolling his eyes at the breakfast nook, was bent over his notebook, appearing to be sketching something that he was copying from one of Namjoon’s occult books. The wolf hybrid was beside him, helping himself to more sugared berries.

Ears perked up in her direction as she bustled into the room, placing the heavy bags onto the coffee bar where Jimin was filling up his mug, a soft noise of confusion leaving his full lips as he examined the bags stuffed with white tissue paper.

“What’s that?” He asked, one of his sandy ears twitching as she squeezed his shoulder, the fuzzy fabric of his sweater making her fingertips tingle.

“Oh, nothing…” Y/N replied mischievously, curiosity growing even stronger in his bright eyes.

“Bullshit. I can smell your scheming from a mile away,” Jeongguk called out, looking bored when Namjoon shot him a dirty look.

“You have quite the bullshit detector, sweets,” Y/N moved away from the coffee bar, finding the mug Yoongi had prepared for her on the island, beside where Taehyung was sitting.

The Kodiak hybrid avoided her eyes, but still leaned into her touch when she used his upper arm to balance over the island to grasp for her mug. Things were still a little… tense between her and him, but Y/N was trying her best to give him space while he got used to her and Yoongi.

Speaking of, the leopard hybrid emerged from the pantry with the bag of powdered sugar Namjoon had requested, his hair tied back with a scrunchie. He winked at Y/N, pointing to the stack of pancakes on the stove that were waiting for her, Y/N shaking her head as she watched Seokjin fry up some breakfast sausages. When Seokjin turned with the plate, he smiled at Y/N softly, though his ears were pressed flat to his head.

“So, what’s in the bag, darling? Valentines?” Hoseok landed heavily on one of the barstools, sly knowledge spread all over his face. Grumbling, Y/N sipped her coffee with narrowed eyes.

“Nothing gets by you, Foxy, huh?” Y/N put her hands up like she was caught red-handed, poking his cheek as she waltzed by him.

“Valentines?” Namjoon’s voice was thick with confusion, Y/N more than used to the wolf hybrid being not exactly aware of the human calendar.

Sighing, her surprise spoiled by her clever fox hybrid, she trudged over to the bags once again, and if she had a tail like the hybrids, it would be between her legs. Like a shadow, Seokjin followed her, though not as closely as he used to– not close enough for Y/N to catch a whiff of his comforting eucalyptus scent. Later that night, she and Seokjin would be driving into the city for the cooking lesson, and she was hoping that things wouldn’t be so odd between them.

Humming, Y/N dove her fingers into the tissue, grasping onto the 7 envelopes she had placed in there only moments ago, the paper different shades of pink and red. It had been difficult to find cards for all of them that didn’t shout “I LOVE YOU” all over them, but in a stationary store within the same strip mall Judy’s shop was in, she found a bunch that simply wished them a happy holiday.

Moving quickly, she delivered one to each of the boys, Jeongguk rolling his eyes as he accepted his envelope, flicking Y/N on the forehead. Once everyone had their card, Yoongi receiving his with a smirk and a stolen kiss to her temple, Y/N began passing out the boxes of chocolate she had picked up at The Prudential center– the fancy Swiss place Seokjin had pointed out several times, with the slabs of chocolate in the window.

She tried to keep in mind everyone’s tastes; truffles for Jimin and Taehyung, a variety of filled chocolates for Namjoon, toffee for Seokjin. Namjoon accepted his box with glee, his dimples indenting his cheeks, abandoning his breakfast in favor of cracking into some peanut butter cups.

“Thank you,” Taehyung took his truffles with a blush blossoming over his cheeks and nose, Y/N’s heart squeezing as he afforded her the briefest moment of precious eye contact.

“These cards are so cheesy,” Hoseok snorted, pointing at the fat little angel on the front of his card. “You know, you should tell us that you’re planning to get us things for holidays. I feel like a bum whenever I don’t get you something in return.”

Hoseok’s russet ears drooped, pouting at Y/N as she ruffled his hair, giving him a squeeze around his shoulders. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she felt Hoseok’s back melt into her chest instantly, grinning as she watched him peel open his box of assorted pralines.

“You don’t have to get me anything,” Y/N insisted, giving Hoseok one last squeeze before pulling herself away, Jimin shaking his head in disagreement as he mumbled something about flowers. “Besides. I got myself the boozy truffles, and I’m going to make you all watch a cheesy rom com tonight when I get back with Seokjin from the cooking class.”

At the sound of his name, as well as the mention of the class, Seokjin perked up from his spot– leaning on the fridge with his little tub of toffee– an excited purr ripping from his chest. While everyone was busy with their chocolates and cards, each hybrid in various states of fluster and flattery, Y/N found her way to Yoongi, who disappeared into the pantry before she could give him his Valentine.

“Hoseok’s right. Cheesy,” Yoongi said, with his back turned to her, holding up his card. With a jolt, she realized he must have disappeared so he could open it privately, her cheeks burning as she clocked the sappy note she had written into his card. Desperately, she wanted to write similar sentiments on the other’s, but was still too chicken to confess to anyone else. “Here.”

Turning, Yoongi had a smirk on his face, reaching for Y/N’s wrist, and she was no longer paying attention to the commotion outside of the pantry. Holding her gently, Yoongi dug around in the pocket of his jeans, Y/N catching something sparkly between his fingertips. Swiftly, the leopard hybrid clasped a delicate silver bracelet around her wrist, the slim chain feeling like water as it was secured against her flesh. Gasping softly, she noticed the heart charm dangling from the chain, the design simple and elegant, and with the gift, Y/N felt her eyes water.

“Yoongi… when, and how–”

“Something to spend my money on from Daisy’s lessons,” Yoongi shrugged, still holding her wrist as he examined the jewelry. “Wasn’t going to let you get me something without anything in return.”

With that, Yoongi raised her hand to his lips, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles, his cheeky smirk becoming even more pronounced once he read the emotion on her face; lower lip wobbling, shiny eyes.

“Be mine?” Yoongi raised an eyebrow, flashing his sharp canines at her, enjoying how overwhelmed she was. The corny remark, the very same one printed on his card, had her snapping out of it, clicking her tongue at the leopard hybrid.

“Already am.”

#trouvaille #drabbles #asks #dana's thoughts #happy love day besties!!!!

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mamamangaka · 2 months

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What if Yandere Alastor went to heaven with Charlie because Vaggie also refused, well, what no one expected is that Alastor would find his wife in heaven... Would he find one to take back with him? Imagine the angels trying to distance the reader from the radio devil...

*GASPING INCOHERENTLY*

ANONNNNNNNNNN

Imagine him cornering the little thing, a deer angel or fox, perhaps?

While Charlie fights to no avail (Alastor knows for sure Heaven will never come around) he settles to let his friend fall.

And for himself to fall harder for something - someone - in his opinion, far more valid and important.

He meets the angel and ends up charming her into a book store or what not, serenading her with radio tunes that are only the sweetest and most endearing.

Then —

Once they’re alone, that’s when it happens.

They can sense it, fear pulsing as the sigils and shadows slowly emerge.

“Come, little fawn.” He snickers, “Let’s make a deal.”

#yandere!alastor #anon ideas #angel!reader #Hazbin Hotel #hasbin hotel

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brainworms-all-night-long · 3 months

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Ok so the basic premise of my Prime Bros universe that I've creatively dubbed "The same but different" so far goes like;

Nine is eventually left alone in the Grim, some angst happens and he spends a few days alone in there until he says fuck it and braves the Void to get into Green Hills since he has only to gain and nothing to loose hoping that Sonic would somehow be accepting of him there. If not then he'll just figure something else out.

Sliiightly retconning the ending by saying the energy shockwave was caused by Nine breaching the shatterverse gate, but Sonic and the gang don't know that as of yet and go investigate any possible threat that could've emerged again.

They find Nine in the cave and que in the last 5 seconds of the Nimona movie with Sonic as Balister.

Since Sonic hasn't had the opportunity to share his adventure stories with his friends yet, they're confused asf as to who that fox is and why is Sonic so excited to see him.

Explanations, settling in and all that jazz happens. Tails is super stoked about the whole contained multiverse concept that Nine apparently knows so much abt and wants to figure out a portal. Nine is reluctant at first cuz he literally just got out of there and barely survived giant purple rocks floating about the void with zero natural resistance to slow them down. And another thing is that they're severely lacking in paradox energy.

Despite all that, Tails somehow manages to convince him on a mission to rob Shadow's house and quite easily find the paradox prism hidden in a box labeled "Do not touch. That means you, Sonic" (Yes I was serious about that poll)

Somewhere around that scene is when Shadow actually gets a punch in on Nine while Tails manages to grab just enough energy from the prism to manage experimenting with it, and eventually with a little assistance from Nine, succeed at making a portal.

—

And I thinks that's about all for now that makes sense and I can put to words. This is like, the first 3 maybe 4 chapters? I just uhhhh gotta iron out the details!! And there's no real ending in mind cuz I'm only being silly with an idea. (Please brain don't make me switch fandoms as soon as the first chapter is out istg you've done that one too many times-)

#sonic prime #prime bros #I'm trying to write the actual thing but!!! It's kicking my ass!!! Writing hard asf how do you guys do it #I'm imagining each chapter might get a little illustration to go along with it but idk how long I'll be able to keep it up #One is almost done and the other is yet to become a sketch but I'll get there #hopefully #lord give me strength #miles nine prower #nine the fox #miles tails prower #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #the same but different

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helloescapist · 5 months

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(HELLO HELLO I HOPE YOURE DOING WELL!!💮 I HAVE A REQUEST FOR YOUU FEEL FREE TO IGNORE ME!!) so this is a KNY x kitsune uppermoon y/n!!

So the upper moons three (aka kokushibo, douma, akaza,) hearing about this new uppermoon demon and when kitsune y/n came into the infinity castle and introduced they're self they were really sly and cocky about it! What would there reactions be like??

(Also in this y/n uses a fan like douma but more detailed she is also a nine tailed fox in this!!)

(if you wanna add more stuff to y/n feel free to!! Just make sure you have fun and you are healthy!!)

-🦊

hello, hello 🦊

This is a very fun ask! I did my absolute best with what you gave me, and I hope that it meets your expectations! If you'd ever like to add more details to this reader feel free to stop by my inbox, I was a little pressed for time, and wanted to stick to as much of the details as you provided me. I had so much fun imagining a powerful, bold woman in the upper kizuki.

Beneath the Veil + Headcanons | The Upper Three Moons

Word count: 3237

Setting: Uppermoons x kitsunefemreader! (new addition to the Upper Moons)

Content Warnings: mentions violence/gore

Summary: the newly inducted, fourth moon introduced to the Upper Three Moons.

A/N: So, because the kitsune has a tendency to play back and forth from good to bad in Japanese folk tale, I chose to base the reader off of kumiho, the Korean fox demon as they are more prone to being depicted as maneaters).

The delicate hues of ambered glows that emerged from the darkness. Struct to life with a single cord, a note plucked from the night that gave birth to thousands of flames as though called damning phantoms to their duty. Cast to spent eternity in hell, guarding the depths of the hallway through the infinity castle. Glows that echoed across infinity, danced upon shadows across tatami mats. Traced silhouettes upon silk bound by lacquered panels. Deep walnuts met exquisite shades of wood that elicited the envy of foreign porcelain. Delicate as they were immaculately selected a testament to the lord of hell himself, soaked in the blood of innocents that had built the unattainable fortress; soaked with an ominous glow that threatened to snub the life of those who entered its corridors.

Each strike upon a chord a threat that abducted its victims from their refugee, dragging them to the depths of hell to answer their master’s call. A sharp note that once bore warmth, now a whisper of death’s welcome, the musician’s long lanky fingers danced across the strings. Nails gouged notes that screamed of treachery. Hair reminiscent of ink spilled in vein, dreams that would never attribute to any merit, music drowned by the depths of night to never be heard in the light of day as etched into the instructions upon her skin, and guided her siren calls. A single strum far more than capable of calling forth the undoing of man, devoid of emotion in each calculated placement. The upper ranks each a preference of their own space, save for the few.

The attendees less than they had been in prior attendance, the caution she bid with each press of her rouged lips in greeting to the newly arrivals. The first Upper Moon savoring his space, and secrecy as he so often craved. A figment of past eras, poised as the markets that etched upon his skin and refined as the well-practiced long fingers that tipped the lavish ginseng tea to his lips. The lush spread of black hair that captured the envy of the night draped upon his shoulder. The compose straight of his back, perpendicular to the floor beneath him, his ankles tucked beneath him as straight as the line that formed at his lips. Content to himself, the notes of melancholy are a mere tune to enjoy in sacred solitude.

Unlike the bickering of the two upper ranks before the biwa player. The second moon quickly seeks out the company of the third. Sunkissed hair, as pale as bright as the sun’s rays that met against sheltered, porcelain skin. Dewy flesh as soft as imported cotton, as lavish as freshly spun silk that met the highs of his thick ebony eyebrows. Playful iridescent eyes that captivated the light delighted in hues of kaleidoscope twinkled as they toyed with their prey. The number of his ranking etched into his irises. The wave of his hand jovial despite the tense atmosphere, and his voice as harmonious as the false kindness touched upon his features. Subtle childlike expressions that concealed the vile aspects of his personality, mocked sympathies as he whispered concerns to the stress lines that blossomed at Akaza’s brow. The tilt of his head projecting artificial concern, “Ah, I was so sad to hear of Hantengu and Gyokko.” Cooed as the way he attempted to draw near the Third Moon, the equip of betraying his façade. “I was so worried about you Akaza.”

A mere growl the only evidence of speech dormant within the tense expression bore by the redhead. His doll-like crimson eyelashes furrowed dripping with spit as he averted his eyes from the taunting blight. The markings at his brow crinkled, and creased at the highs of his cheeks, the shade of midnight etched into his flesh. Wrinkled at the grit of his teeth, the amber of his emblem eyes quivered at the clench of his muscles. Restrained trembles resolved agitation confined to the hierarchy embroiled on his mind from the prior meeting of the upper kizuki. The small growl of at the base of his throat, threatening the vein that drew at his temple. “Oh dear, Lord Aka, you’ll wrinkle,” the predatory nature in which he considered drawing his nail at the outer marking upon the Third’s cheek, with draw upon the strike of a biwa cord resonating within his bones. The corner of his lips rid of any tease of concern, elicited amusement and joy. His canines revealed as the happiness emulated his features, “My, my, it would seem our new little fourth has arrived, I’ve heard rumors. I’m so excited to meet Lady [YN]. To think, she is so close to acquiring your rank, Lord Aka—” Shattered fist that drew upon the bottom of the Second Moon’s jaw. Snapped bones fragmented and teeth that struck the floor. Splatter of black blood, followed by the press of silence. The delight warm in the demon’s eyes despite the dislocation of his jaw torn from the hinges of his skull.

“Akaza,” slow and stern. Deep and rich, drawn authority. “You will show respect.”

The hum of his voice resignation in the quiver of his shoulders. The touch upon his vest offering no concealment, exposed to the calculating gaze of Doma, who merely delighted in the well place fear of his subordinate. The growth of his jaw snapped and grotesque as the grin that met at his teeth. “Ah, Lord Kokushibo, you’re so considerate, but please, we wouldn’t want to scare the little Fourth Moon.” Mocking, and depraved of sincerity the glint upon his gaze, a den of wolves at all angles. The first moon merely detached and appraising the arrival, the Third posed and ready threatened at the new arrival while the second merely delighted at his unease. Satisfied as the clank of the koma-geta intentionally drummed to the slants of the wood. Each step deliberately falling in line with music unheard by the remainder of the Moons.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” warm and harmonious as the steps that echoed upon the wood flooring. Rouged lips as vibrant as blood matched only by the hue lingered upon your gaze. The compelling marking of your ranking etched into your eyes, drawn to predatory slants. Movements fluid and as the sway of your hips, unbothered by the delicate embellishments, gifts of slayed lovers catching in the lantern glows. Luminescent as the fires within your eyes, the pout of a smile forming, at the reveal of your upper thigh, the fold of your kimono exposing skin to the night air. Shoulders born, the draw of your hair long and luxurious. Intricately weave and revealing the lavish nature of odango, curled upon impossible lengths, questionable so, and hinting upon the figments of magic as the press of the fan, a false pretense of a docile woman. Conveying only one that cultivated your pray, drew attention to the depths of your clavical and the heave of your breast, as well as the canine that revealed in your smile more than enough to elicit the wrinkle of the Third’s nose, and the further grit of his teeth. Demure and coy as the roll of your shoulder in a mock bow, the bend of your knees in greeting to the Upper Tier moons. The curl of tails falling at your back, toyed upon the steps you drew forward in greeting, poised in charm. The plush of your tails, traced upon by Kokushibo counting as they swayed, unable to conceal the nature of your being. The dangle upon the hair pins, harmonious, and musical each pitch falling upon the screams of torn lovers devoured in the dead of night on a rendezvous turned blood bath. The draw of their appeal tempting Doma to curl his fingers from one specific one. A delicate one, intentionally placed, as fragile as blown glass. Aged and polished, bearing an unspoken significance standing apart from the others as revealing as the smile Doma bore the callous of his finger drawing to allow its jingle.

The snap of your fan swift, a clatter that drew Lord Kokushibo’s many eyes, observation and traced upon movements nearly missed upon Akaza’s. The threat poised in your stature, revealing the concealed lethality as your fan cupped under the Second’s chin forcing his jaw and his attention to your own. “Careful, I’m not certain you can afford my services.” Delicate and struck upon the biwa cord intended to maintain the façade of seduction slipped between venom.

“Oh my,” Doma purred despite the obvious tension of disarray upon the Infinity Castle, predators poised, and mistrustful. None among you willing to entrust yourselves with one another, and such clear disrespect while portrayed as playfulness etched into unspoken territories. “They say, little foxes never reveal their true selves.” Delighted and warmed, allowing his chin to press into the fan at the quip of his grin growing dark and sinister as they traced the guarded the embellishment, “but there is always something that gives them away.”

Beneath the Veil Headcanons | Kokushibo, Doma, and Akaza

Initially, your presence has agitated Akaza. He places a significant importance upon his battle prowess, and any new addition to the Upper Moon draws his focus. Most commonly, it’s because he desires a challenge.

Adores the opportunity to combat a new opponent, especially one who is immortal, and able to rise night after night, and free him from his boredom.

However, in your case, the flow of your pride, and the confidence in each of your steps elicits his ire. The draw of your rouged lips, touched upon intentionally placed laughter, callous and artificial as the Second Moon’s, and at first, your resemblance to the upper rank is more than enough grounds for Lord Akaza to hold you in contempt.

The ranking just below his, he thinks, no is confident that he could eliminate you from the rankings if not for his Achilles heel. A woman amongst the Upper Ranks, while not impossible, or something he has not happened upon before, yet the dire situation that the Demon forces have found themselves against the Slayers, the opportunity to evade your existence as he had Nakime, and Daki is unlikely.

Close quarters, and frequent meetings he is stuck with the eyesore (you), and he is bitter. Aware that finding another replacement for the Upper tier will only elicit Muzan’s ire, and so he is left with little choice but to accept the stain of your smile upon his night.

Endure the taunting and teasing, regardless how much his skin recoils at the linger of your touch. Internal war, if only you were a male his stance would be far simpler.

Though of course, as a newly inducted Moon, you are unlikely aware of his aversion to women, and it’s easy to take such slights personally. Just as the way you conduct yourself leaves the impression that it is fully your intention to toy with him, only furthering his contempt.

Yet, as time goes on, and small details of each of your pasts, or positions are revealed whether in little slips of having to frequent each other’s territories, or one slipped from Doma, who just delights stirring the pot, you’ll discover that there is more to your compatibility than initially believed.

The reality is that you are both by nature in desperate need of trust to cement your bond whether romantically, friendship, or just work peers. But it will take so much time, or mere forced together orders from the Master for him to accept your partnership on various missions.

No matter how I look at it, tact-wise, Muzan is likely to keep you within Akaza’s vicinity. Ironically, Akaza believes he is safeguarding you when in reality, you’re his caretaker.

Intended to shield him from the depths of reality, and sweep away any potential female opponents that may stray into his range. It’s going to be difficult, and one full of back and forth cutting remarks. Both of you are prone to being fairly forthcoming with your communication and ires, and as such, communication is likely to flow quite a bit better than it would with the other moons.

Both of you are fairly adaptable, and makes the work relationship easier to navigate in the flow of battle.

As one who utilizes a fan, the only difficulty is that your fighting stances are a little more difficult to navigate, and will take trial and error. Especially as Akaza does not desire your assistance—nor accepts you as a warrior.

You are not prone to being on the wavelength, and butting heads will come rather routinely for the both of you, but I imagine that Akaza will falter in most disputes.

Not because you haven’t entirely pissed him off, but as he remains traditional at his core, and values the more historical entanglement men and women have had for centuries.

Although, admittedly, your inability to shy away from conflict may actually delight him.

I mean, he’ll never admit it, but you discover that he is far more willing to seek out your company, allowing more time to actually remain around you.

Seeks to protect you, though there are little threats aside from the remainder of the UpperMoons tha could pose a threat to your existence, and because of this, it won’t be difficult to catch on to the fact that Akaza actually just enjoys your company.

though he cannot articulate why that may be.

Oh the dynamic duo that draws exhaustion from all parties in your vicinity. He delights in your pluck, and is instantly smitten with you.

Oh, he delights in the banter, in the opportunity to go blow for blow. Unlike Lord Akaza, your gender means very little to him aside from the fact that if the Second were to perhaps take a small nibble… the thought has crossed his mind you will be delectable.

Far more delicious than those of his worshipers, or any courtesan.

Craves the moment in which he may finally infringe upon your bites. Though it will not be any time soon—you are in no rush to challenge him for his placement, and thus taking a nibble out of you will result in Lord First’s clear disapproval, Lord Akaza has more than expressed his disgust at his tastes, and he is certain that the Master would not accept searching for a replacement.

Which may secure his existence, but he’s not confident enough to make that bet, and so for now, Doma will just delight in peeking beneath the veil.

He has a natural talent for sniffing out the details you do not wish to dispose, such as the aged embellishment you safeguarded upon your meeting. It’s so pretty.

What if he were to break it?

Oh the thought gives him amusement, and because of this, he will push and play. Press nerves, but beneath it, the cold and guarded exterior you often display, is not fooling him.

Just as his false pretenses are not luring you to any deceptions any time soon, you are well aware that Lord Second is not as dimwitted as he pretends to be.

No, rather, you are so faithfully aware that the smallest part of you cannot understand how Lord Third does not see the way the cult leader lures him time, and time again.

You are both adapt at processing, and because of this, there leaves little missed opportunities for the both of you. An opening, and similar fighting styles will make for a lethal combination.

While you have the ability to seize tactical movements, Doma has the ability to prey upon emotional weaknesses, only furthering your opportunities.

Sadly, it’s the consistent skipping over small details that could lead to the downfall of the both of you. While Doma is more than willing to get to know you.

Oh he adores the challenge, and welcomes it as it comes, or he forces it. He so desperately seeks out company, perhaps due to his own upbringing and staleness of life, you offer a rare treat amongst the mundane, but if you are wishing for something more there will be a complication of how forthcoming Doma himself avers to be.

The real question is if either of you are willing to reveal your hands, but the teasing is more than delectable.

The oldest of the Upper Moons will show very little interest upon your arrival at first. The reality is that for the swordsman, many such as you have come, and gone just as swiftly as they have arrived.

He is aware you are a mere last minute addition composed of pressure from the Demon Slayer Corps, and as such, he has a tendency to meet your inclusion as little more than formality.

Keeping to the hierarchy, and unspoken protocol of the kizuki. Yet as you continue to linger, and force yourself into his company, little things such as expressing that you will be seeing him soon, and falling through with such sentiments is likely to gain his interest.

Especially if you follow more formal, traditional methods that are reminiscent of the Edo era. Intuitive by nature, the both of you have the ability to make decisions regardless of how complex the situation may be.

Such formalities, and flow of your time together, the way he finds himself allowing to come undone, and touch upon past selves, he’s curious. So to the point he would not admit to such, and yet, you have caught his attention.

For you, it is the fact that Lord Kokushibo, renowned for his reclusive nature has taken up an interest in you. While it’s true that he will not be changing his nature, nor can you expect him to grow more extroverted.

It is not who he is, and never will be, you will delight in the way he entertains your company. Quietly awaiting your arrival to his accommodations, the sudden appearance of a second tea cup upon your arrival, and engaged conversation.

You know you are warming up to him. The blunt approach to the both of your natures is a contribution to the flow of discussions, and as such there’s a warmth that comes naturally between the two of you should you only give it time.

However, that’s the catch. It will require a depth of time but you’re both immortal so… you are not one to dispose of your hand, cloaking yourself rather than readily reveal vulnerabilities, and the same can be expressed by the Upper Moon.

Your bond is one that is unspoken, and is as natural as the flow of the winds and breath within your lungs. A natural understood, able to see each other for who you truly are, and as long as you allow yourself the ability to accept the time it will take—you will find that your connection is one of sparks.

If it is a romantic connection you are seeking, you may find yourself savoring his touch, and the callousness of his hands. The quiet purse of his lips as he listens to your recent encounters, and the small smile that forms at his lips.

If it is not a romantic connection you desire, then you will find friendship will come just as easily, but ultimately, a work relationship will be one in passing.

Not a partnership in which you routinely work together, but rather a co-worker that you have a great repertoire with.

#demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #upper moons x reader #doma x reader #akaza x reader #kokushibo x reader #🍡tsuyospeaks

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mxtantrights · 4 months

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famous dc! au (bruce's version)

PART ONE - untitled_script.docx / raw_sketch.jpeg

When you felt the warm sun on your eyes you didn't quite know where you were yet. Last night was intense and for almost all of it you were sober. At beginning of the party you weren't.

Last night was more of a launch for you. Your name had been whispered in these circles for months now. A couple of articles written up about you and your art. It was time to fully immerse yourself into this world.

Of course you showed up as an emerging artist with no art. What's an artist's struggle without art? Exactly. If you came with someone to hang on one of the walls you think you would have fainted from all the attention. Being there and people knowing your name was enough to tilt your world.

That's how you ended up spilling some of your drink on an unsuspecting victim. You sobered yourself up after that. Trying to get through your nerves with liquid courage wasn't going to help. You had to find other tactics.

As the night went on though you kind of forgot about your nerves. With the help of one person in particular. Now that you think about it you can't believe you're about to say his name in connection with yours. But it's the truth.

Bruce Wayne helped you last night.

And then a couple of hours after that. And a little more into the wee hours of the morning. But it was more than that-something is missing. You reach over to the other side of the bed and find it empty.

You open your eyes and the sun fully blinds you. So you turn around in bed. You're naked. That seems about right. Your eyes take focus on the other figure in bed with you. He's got his back turned to you, so all you can see are the scratches that go from his shoulders to his lower back.

A bit startled you sit up on your forearm.

The movement must be felt because all at once he's turning around and your brain doesn't have to work overtime to recognize Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne in bed with you. Bruce Wayne with nail marks down his back.

You sit there for a while. Just watching him. Your chest heaving up and down. You try to steady your breathing but you can't quite seem to catch it in the first place.

"It's impolite to stare." he says.

Your eyes widen, "You're awake?"

He opens his eyes. Bright blue staring right back at you. A shadow of a smile lines his lips. It was a stupid question but he doesn't make you feel as such for asking.

"Good morning." he says.

You pull the covers over your chest a bit more.

"Good morning." you say and clear your throat.

"Had a nice night?" he asks.

You can't help to laugh a bit, "I don't know. Jury's still out."

Bruce hummed, then he wrapped his arms around your middle, bringing you closer to his body. You instinctually wrapped your legs around his.

"Law really isn't my strong suit." he says.

"It's more of mine." a voice by the door says.

You and Bruce both look over quickly. That's right. Harvey! Now that you think about it Harvey was the one that walked you into this room last night. Somewhere after Bruce was telling joked and before the tenth person came up to introduce themselves to you, Harvey made an appearance.

With all the slyness of a fox he whisked you away from the donors eager to commission something from you. He took you far away from the crowd for about an hour. Then Bruce had joined the two of you.

You're looking at him and he's smiling right at you too. He has a tray of food in his hands. A glorious spread of breakfast foods.

"I thought you'd be off, chasing a script somewhere." Bruce says.

There's an edge to his voice now. One that wasn't there a few moments ago. You start to think it's like jealousy or something. Was Bruce jealous of Harvey?

Then your mind rattles with the fact of last night. Harvey may have dragged you off someplace, but at no point did either one of you invite Bruce. He knew just where to be and when too.

You look at Bruce and then back at Harvey. You do this a few times until the words seem to fall off your lips.

"You were looking for a third?" you ask.

Harvey lets out a guffaw from by the door. Bruce's arms which are still around you seem to go slack a bit. You don't know how that makes you fell at this very moment.

"Not in the sense that you're thinking." Harvey answers.

He walks over and sets the tray down. The orange juice and the waters shake as they settle on the side table. Harvey then climbs over you and Bruce both. His arms caging you in, but you didn't feel cage. You felt probably the most free you've felt in a while.

"we've been talking a while now about how we're missing something-someone." Bruce says.

You can feel his hand come up to brush against your cheek. You may look fine on the outside but on the inside you aren't sure any of this is real. Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent are in bed with you. Bruce Wayne and Harvey Dent don't want this to be a one time thing with you.

"and you think that's me?" you whisper

"Bruce knew the moment he laid eyes on you." Harvey explained.

You don't miss how vague that is. He could have laid eyes on you at the party. Or at some earlier time, where you weren't noticing. And you don't miss how he only answered for Bruce.

You look Harvey in the eye now, "and you?"

"I knew before him." he offers.

Vague. Vague. Vague. The logical part of you is begging for more answers and more words. But the other side, the side that spent hours tangled between the sheets and these men is telling you that you don't need anything else at this moment.

You smile at him, then at Bruce. Harvey leans down and places a peck on your nose. Bruce's arms tighten around you once more.

#dc x reader #bruce wayne x reader #Bruce Wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne fic #dc fic #dc imagine #Harvey dent x reader #Harvey dent imagine #Harvey dent fic #famous dc! au (bruce's version)

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silvashapeshifter · 15 days

Text

My sociopathic boy needs therapy <3

Diz(zy)!Sans belongs to me.

Undertale belongs to Toby Fox.

((Filterless drawing below))

[ID: Traditional drawing with fine black marker and green highlighter. Depicts an alternate Sans (skeleton) with the right eye marked with a scratch scar and melting, its green orbits filled with a spiral, with simple dark green markings above the eye sockets. He cries, but has a forced and twisted smile. He wears a scarf, and also have a sort of cape attached with a brooch inlaid with a smooth, shiny black stone. The shadows are hatching. Behind him, there is a green aura from which a slightly darker spiral emerges. End ID.]

#undertale oc #undertale au #sans au #utmv #undertale #my art #silva draws

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poweroftwelve · 6 months

Text

Main Story: Into the Wild (Part 1)

A forest – an often-large expanse of area covered chiefly by trees and undergrowth. Its greenery was shadowed by the darkness of night, only alit by the half moon, which reflected but the sun’s sleeping gaze, yet none of its warmth. A forest like that was not unlike any other forest.

The forest – the place where four trees stood tall at its center, and a mouse may be victim to their claws. It was a place where not everyone roamed equal, a single leaf belonging to one group or another – four to be exact. Yes, the forest was divided, like the very trees at their center. And those who perhaps poked their noses too close might find harsh hisses and crass claws chasing them back, as no outsider was welcomed.

The forest – this forest – was their forest.

The forest was alive this night. What was once silence was broken by sleek dark bodies leaping from the cover of the undergrowth, colliding with not all too different figures who lurched from the river’s water.

They were cats, all of them.

One side from the undergrowth, and the other from the river, the warring felines collided, spitting and hissing as the clearing would soon be filled with the sounds of battle.

“Oakheart!” At the center of the frenzy, a massive dark brown tabby would pin a reddish-brown cat, who still dripped with water. The tabby snarled, claws digging into the wet cat’s shoulders. “How dare you hunt in our territory? The Sunningrocks belong to ThunderClan!”

A glint of amusement flashed in the red cat’s eyes. “After tonight, Tigerclaw, this will just be another RiverClan hunting ground.” His voice was smooth and calculating. He whisked his tail underneath the tabby, right as a warning yowl echoed from the shore.

“More RiverClan warriors are coming!”

Tigerclaw’s amber eyes looked up to see the sleek, wet bodies emerging from the black water, leaping into the fray without even pausing to shake themselves off. Distracted by the new arrivals, Tigerclaw would hiss as Oakheart’s back paw raked down his belly, forcing him off the tom. As the two enemy warriors stood across from one another, Tigerclaw curled back his lip and snarled.

“You may swim like otters, but you and your warriors don’t belong here!”

The desperate cry of a molly caused Tigerclaw’s ear to prick. A stone gray RiverClan tom had his clanmate pinned down underneath him, teeth dangerously close to her neck. With a small growl, Tigerclaw turned his back on Oakheart, rushing to the molly’s side. He knocked the enemy warrior away from her, eyes flashing as he yelled.

“Quick Mousefur, run!”

With a deep gash in her shoulder, the dusky brown molly winced as she pushed herself to her paws. Almost tripping over herself, she managed to hurry away, Tigerclaw relaxing as she disappeared back into the bushes.

But in the thick of battle, one could never relax. The RiverClan tom fought back, his large and muscular frame making him stand out amongst his RiverClan brethren. Challenging Tigerclaw’s own strength, he forced himself up, raking his claws across Tigerclaw’s face. Tigerclaw spat with rage as the bridge of his nose was sliced open. Blood blinded him for an instant, but that didn’t stop him from lunging forward. He sank his teeth into the hind leg of his enemy, and despite his size, pulled his weight out from under him, and dragged him over the forest floor. The gray tom hissed in pain, managing to struggle free before racing away. Tigerclaw stood up, raising his head triumphantly.

“Tigerclaw!” The yowl for his name made the dark tabby tense, the familiar voice causing his fur to lie flat, and his body to straighten. He was immediately at attention, as he looked up to see a tortoiseshell tom with a tail as red as a fox. “There are too many RiverClan warriors. We have to retreat!”

“No Redtail!” Tigerclaw yowled back. “ThunderClan will never be beaten! This is our territory!” Blood dribbled from his wounded muzzle, droplets scattering as he shook his massive head in defiance.

But alas, Redtail’s gaze didn’t waver. “ThunderClan will honor your courage Tigerclaw, but we cannot afford to lose any more warriors.” His voice seemed to want to convince Tigerclaw, but his own look of frustration betrayed the warrior shame he felt in losing this battle. Still, the tortoiseshell raised his head high as he looked around at the warring frenzy. “Bluestar would never expect her warriors to fight against these impossible odds. We will have another chance to avenge this defeat.” He met Tigerclaw’s amber gaze steadily, before springing up onto a boulder at the edge of the trees.

“Retreat, ThunderClan! Retreat!” Redtail yowled. His words caused an immediate shift in the battle. At once his warriors squirmed and struggled away from their opponents. For a moment, the RiverClan cats looked confused. Was this battle so easily won? Oakheart pushed his way forward, raising his head as he let out a cry of victory. The gray tom from before quickly joined him, followed by the rest of their clanmates. With a flick of his tail, Redtail led his warriors back into the thick of the forest. ThunderClan slowly disappeared into the trees, though not without disappointed glances and flicks of lashing tails.

Tigerclaw followed last. He stood at the edge of their forest, glancing back at the bloodstained battlefield. His face was grim, eyes furious slits. And as he looked back at their forest, he leaped after his clan, disappearing into its shadows.

The forest was theirs, and they held onto it tight. It was a place where not everyone roamed equal.

The forest was divided, never belonging to one.

The forest was dangerous, and those who came too close might find harsh hisses and crass claws chasing them back.

As no outsider was welcomed.

Allegiances

ThunderClan ShadowClan WindClan RiverClan

#po12 #warrior cats #waca #wc #art #into the wild #writing #rewrite #redux #tigerstar #redtail #stonefur #oakheart

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onyourhyuck · 2 years

Text

Looks That Kill. | L.MK (M)

prologue- “I belong to you, only you.” + “I hoped you said we’d be something more.”

summary: the new kid moved into town and y/n already has a bad feeling about him. one day a late night walk down to the woods changes everything between them, a secret comes out of the shadows sparking taboo feelings.

tw- werewolf romance. college mention. fantasy. wolf hunters mention. smut. fluff. death mentions. blood. horror . Fem!y/n. Dom Mark. Breeding kink. Hickeys/marking, praising.

notes- HALLOWEEN KINKTOBER FIC.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the secure night welcomes you comfortably, slippers stomping on the wet soil with ease, kicking past the withered autumn leaves. woods in the town has always been safe and sound, in fact this town only has around 2,000 people residing in it.

there is history amongst every corner of this town in south korea from the west shore end. this town used to be roaming with supernatrual creatures hence why it’s earned the nickname “ghost town”, it’s foretelling that big fur muscle monster resembling both a man and a wolf at once standing on two feet ran its money for this place.

tearing apart hunters left and right mercilessly, going on a frenzy of blood lusting hunger. the creature of the night earned its infamous name as the servant of the moon. the werewolf.

a man at day and a wolf at night. what a bunch of bullshit right? you scoff aloud not to shy particularly as you was alone.

you’re a young college student who is very much a logic over bunch of ghost stories. You are the person who would scream in middle of the camp fire ‘I don’t believe in it until I see it with my own eyes’ motto. people who tend to believe In paranormal activities, watching these tv shows late at night ghost hunting looking for entities all night and somehow make money profit from it; you think pity of them.

people earning money doing fortune telling and psychic mediumship upset you deeply as you think of them as conartists scamming people who are gullible enough to be used.

calling you pessimistic was known from others, but you prefer the term realistic. There will never be a day in your life where you will ever believe in supernatural.

But this was going to happen today. a loud snap echoes within the foggy woods, you turn around in bare pyjamas stop the moment your sharp ears perk up to the sudden define crack. breathing stops as you was solely looking straight ahead to the right where it came from.

“tsk a stupid badger probably stepped on something.” y/n mutters turning around to walk away, a growl reappears as quick as lighting behind. it grew more frequent as it ups syllables more and more.

Your heart skips a beat. Why was the feeling of suffocating there when you’re right in the open woods with fresh oxygen? The girl turns around to check what could be possibly growling. In her head she lists multiple animals such as:

bears, if South Korea ever had any. Maybe it was foxes, or perhaps cats. maybe even a dog.

but not a darn silhouette ominous figure with bright yellow eyes glaring right at you where she stands still as a frozen statue. The only certain thing moving was the heavy wind, even the trees has stopped dancing about. It seems the entire woods became extra quieter when the strange creature hiding amongst the dark fog and black shadows, the entire animals residing in the forest have copped themselves away. As if they all knew that trouble was bound to happen. The instinct to run was there like a visible red button with emergency warning in bold letters, but the body felt numb to act on it. Your brain was fighting by fleeing the scene, the body did not respond. For once in your life You felt fear, paralysing your veins deeply. she couldn’t believe her bloodshot eyes, shaking as the creature starts its movements forward.

She whispers under her breath. “Screw it im going to run.” you shout turning on your heels immediately, sprinting ahead with almighty speed. never in her life has she ever ran so fast to the point everything felt like a blur. the girl couldn’t see trees as clearly anymore and nor did she stop to look back. Darkness follows you behind where the creature corners up behind the girl chasing with its baring large canine teeth practically savouring a bite out of you. The girl gasps on her husk voice holding it as she glances back once.

Feet slide off the edge rolling down the steep lopsided hill where the girl polls backwards landing face front in a pile of reddish orange brown leaves. picking herself up quick, not wasting any minute, she lost a slipper. Unable to turn back to retain it, she carries on escaping without.

You run quick once again only to be stopped by the creature cutting off with a shortcut. The mortified human falls backwards, crawling away as fast as possible as she leeches on the pile of leaves in her dirty palms.

the creature’s breathes heavy with snarls coming out of the gaping open mouth, resembling a wolf yet also a man. The black furred animal corners the girl by it’s claws, tugging on the ankle. You yelp kicking forward with the knack of balls she has in herself, by reaching forward with a rock, grabbing it and then penetrates the heinous monster’s eyes.

She saw the creature back off with a gnawing irritation, then running off to the end when it’s noticed the sky was changing colour rather quickly. You felt weirded out by such an action from the creature.

i mean why would it stare at the sky and hurry off? wasn’t it weird? and what exactly was it? junghyun grabs herself off the floor immediately following the animal from behind, trying to keep up with its inhuman speed as much as possible.

though when running after it, you wouldn’t be met with the creature.

you were met with a human laying on the ground, unconscious, barely breathing and also buttnaked in middle of nowhere. you gasp at the person in shock as she slowly approaches it, poking the person’s back. she only earned a soft snore as a response.

there’s no way that this man was the creature. i mean how did it make sense? what proof was there?

your face lights up when a moment replays in her mind. the monster’s eye was attacked by a rock. so if the man sleeping soundly in front of her was the monster, he would have a black eye.

the girl crouches down turning the guy forward so she could take a first glance at the face. she gasps. “oh my god it’s the new kid.”

you slowly lifts the boy’s face more observing the eyes, it had a slight bruise on his right eye. she shifts eyes feeling uncomfortable by staring at her classmate who is buttnaked in middle of the woods and might be a freakin’ monster.

god you pray you’re hallucinating.

╰──────────────────────╮

The eyes shot open relieving the night like it were a movie on replay record, trembling at the foreign ceiling, he felt his skin prickle with muscles contracting at each movement he did. the wrists tug forward, poking at the belt rattling on the bed frame that had him so trapped in such an unfamiliar setting.

Mark grunts. He can’t figure out where he is, nor did his strength find his body to be able to pull away. Usually, he could do so as much as he pleases. But now he used all his darn energy and strength last night chasing something without his control.

“Where the hell am i.” Mark let’s out with another rough grunt pulling against the belt on his wrists tying it to the bed entirely.

“my house.” a feminine voice pierced to the front where the door opens revealing a young girl with brunette long hair, holding a frying pan in front of him like a defence shield. he eyes her up and down, hissing. “you’re the girl in my English class.”

“yeah and you’re the foreigner kid.” you bark back. “Who’s also a werewolf.”

he lifts his head in shock hearing exclamation. unable what to say, Mark only panics more and more against the belt, this time with actual force to escape. this whole plan was to leave Canada for a new life not to become the most wanted mythical source on earth. you breathe heavily moving closer.

“you’re not going to say anything?” you poke confused on the side, finding it completely weird that he wouldn’t deny it or agree to it. mark turns to you with a side glare, a look that kills anyone.

you gulp thinly. Mark saw the way her throat shrieks, he feels her heartbeat from a mile away, the way her body language curls up on the frying pan that she depends on to protect her from a werewolf, a literal monster machine, does she think mark can be stopped with a frying pan of all things? he scoffs mockingly in his head watching the timid mortal. “should i give you a poetry on how i’m not a werewolf?”

mark spat, watching you who peeps with a soft head shake. the boy speaks with venom in his voice, “then no.” mark growls turning to the belt on the wrists.

“I don’t understand.” You shakily tell rolling down the walls in front of the bed, dropping the frying pan that would circle on the floor till it fell flat. legs curling to the your chest as your arms wrapping on it, watching the boy in defeat.

mark didn’t bother turning back to watch the girl who spoke like her entire world was a lie, it wasn’t his responsibility what she feels. What was his responsibility was to not get caught and to stay away from the spotlight. He failed both those things, clearly.

“i mean..you’re a werewolf I seen it with my own eyes. How..I thought it was all myths.” You slowly starts. mark stops playing with the belt edge, where his head subconsciously looks at your pale face. she looks terrified, tired and hell of a mess. mark purse lips in a thin line.

“i’m not a scientist who can explain how. but i’ll have you know that i don’t attack humans. i’m just trying to live a low life, somewhere peaceful and quiet.” you hears the boy say. the way he spoke about it much calmer and not in a hostile defensive way, meant that he was being truthful. you slowly stand up, approaching the bed that mark was laying on forcefully.

he watches her like a prey wondering what she’s about to do. you whisper. “you won’t kill me if i let you go and forget his ever happened right?”

“i wasn’t going to kill you anyways.” mark replies as he felt your trembling cold hands undo the belt on the wrists. He was quick to retract them back, but with your body weight.

mark has you on the bed pinned above him. He is hovering over you with great strength, looking you dead in the eyes with the brown amber iris that were once a bright glowing yellow. you gulp itching to get out, your legs squirming till he squeeze your smaller hands in his palm.

“you said you wouldn’t kill me.” you exclaim.

“that’s right but i never said anything about hurting you. especially with my right eye.” he hawks as you were brought to look at the black bruise on the eyelid, you glare completely defending your actions.

“you deserved that. you chased me in the woods.”

mark said nothing, letting go off the wrists and then pulling himself off the girl’s fragile body. he rubs the back of his head noticing that he was given underwear, that was nice thoughtful thinking at least. your body sits up about to stand up, but the man’s voice stuns you still.

“I hurt your leg accidentally.” He admits turning around to face her leg. He walks crouching down lifting it up to roll her jeans, he saw her careless badly wrapped bandage that could barely stay on the wound. he bites his inner cheek. She carefully tread.

watching him continually wondering what he was about to do. but the moment he demands first aid kit she caught on the idea he was going for. Y/n was more than pleasant enough to give him the power to the first aid in the room. The boy re-did everything even better, better than the ones you committed to do.

As the white bandages wrap on the scratch open wound, thankfully it never got far too deep into the skin just a little on the edge. you wince when he tightens the last bit of bandages with a tie.

Mark looks up murmuring. “Sorry for hurting you. I’m not in control when i transform.”

“It’s okay at least you helped me out.” you softly gaze at him. “What’s your name?”

“Mark Lee. How about you?” to be honest it was clear you guys hardly listened to the register when the teachers called your names out. The boy was just as curious as you were.

“Y/n.”

╰──────────────────────╮

It felt surreal that you and mark have become so close over the course of just three weeks. You kept his secret and even lend him a home at your place. You both go to school together and leave together.

Mark has opened up to you about lots of things and usually, he never does that but with you it felt so comforting and easy to do so; it’s as if he knew you before for a long time.

Like old friends reuniting.

Mark’s from Canada, born and raised. He moved from his home county just few months ago because of his first transformation as a werewolf. He got caught in his wolf form running around scared, so he flew off to South Korea where his parents were born. He had no one.

But he has you now. You made it clear to him that you’ll do anything to help.

Now you’re both walking through the woods, classes have been dismissed and you’re on your way home. chasing each other down the woods pathway, he was quick to catch up with you tackling you to the floor. Your bodies rolling together as one until you both stop, sliding on top of each other. Mark on the ground laying flat as he was met with you on top.

You’re letting out gentle pants as your hands rest well on the sides of his face. Mark with trembling eyes sparkle, meeting beautiful ones that perceiving the world differently from him. He was interested in you, no doubt, a human like you was a gem to people like him. You didn’t spill his secret for whatever reason.

It’s rare finding humans like you nowadays.

“You know you really gotta stop using that wolfy power on me.” you complain softly as you stand up, throwing out your hand. Mark takes it gladly, standing up with a laugh.

“Then.” He pulls you roughly into his chest, where your face firmly looks at him. You felt your breathing hitch on holt as your face was barely inches away. His lips were practically breathing fire on your cold lips. “Stop playing with me, y/n.” He coos letting you go.

You pout watching him leave so casually as he grabs your bag and his bag. He’s start to carry them both as he walks home. You whine following him.

“But it’s fun playing with you!”

On the way home you arrive quickly. The two of you made yourselves back at home considering the fact you two were literally sitting in the lounge watching tv.

One hard thing living with mark was that he eats the entire fridge. Mainly meat. He’s always craving meat and it sometimes amazes you how much he can eat.

Mark sits still munching on the chicken wing as if his life depended on it. You watch openly for far too long, when the boy brings you to reality.

“Yah why are you eyeing me like that? Have you never seen a hungry werewolf before?” he barks and you scoff. “I think I have like three weeks ago at night.”

“That was a mistake.” Mark replies putting down the bone on the plate, licking his fingers.

“I have a question Mark.” You suddenly entice and he hums in response wondering what is was, not turning to look at you as he was busy licking his thumbs, watching the tv.

“Do you only turn on full moons?”

“Yup.”

“Can you speak to dogs when you transform?”

Mark looks at you with the most unserious face. “No. Y/n I can only communicate to other werewolves.”

“Ahhh. Then how about reproduction? Is it the same as wolves?” You blurt out all curious. Today in biology you learned about wolves actually, they mate pretty easily.

You wonder if it’s the same thing with the seasons. Mark suddenly coughs on his saliva hitting his chest with heavy breathes. The boy’s face turns lightly reddish pink and his ears were bright coloured. You blink wondering what was actually wrong?

“I- we reproduce just like humans do. ” He would ask raising an eyebrow. “So you don’t need to turn to fuck somebody, noted.”

You were a curious little thing to mark. The boy simply nods but awkwardly looks away brushing the back of his head, he clears his throat. “Yeah. I haven’t experienced it yet.”

“I heard that first rut is rough for beginners. No self control whatsoever. It doesn’t sound pleasant. It’s even worse when you don’t have a partner to do anything with.”

You felt the way he spoke about werewolf things as if he was alone in it. He was technically alone. Werewolves come in pacts, these creatures, people and community are meant to be together. Meant to do things together, just live together. But you try to make it up to him. You might not be worth twenty werewolves but at least, you can help him through his first’s as a true werewolf.

Holding his hand suddenly you tightly embrace, he turns to you slightly surprised but you flash him a smile.

“I’ll be there for you, so it won’t be that bad.”

Those words were meant to be encouraging for this young werewolf all alone in his world, but little do you know he wasn’t really going to let you be part of everything. he knows the risk. For your safety he would rather put you aside. Your worlds are so different, it could definitely put a strain on it. Y/n wasn’t aware of it sooner that she’s falling hard for the boy and mark was doing just the same.

╰──────────────────────╮

“Y/n!”

A young boy runs up to the girl with a string of pants. You look down raising an eyebrow, as your two friends, Jaemin and Jeno surround you.

“Chenle? Hey what’s up.” You comfortingly speaking.the Chinese boy waves with a short sided smile. “Hey, Mark wants me to pass a message that he left to go home. He wasn’t feeling well.”

“Honestly he looked slightly ill. He had a fever and he even seemed agitated.” Chenle trails half worried and you widen your eyes. What was happening to mark? What made him run so much.

Jaemin hums a bit facing y/n. “What’s your relationship with him?”

You scrunch up facing the boy questioning you, like he was a detective. “None of your business jaem.”

Jeno let’s out a silent ‘ooo’ teasingly before nudging your arm. You scorn out with a sudden shove as you grab your phone to call mark, walking away midway dialling. Three boys watch you leave without an answer from you, extremely suspicious that you’d walk out on them. I mean you don’t have many friends. Who are you worried about so much you’d leave your three only friends?

“Yah she seriously walked out on us three…”

The three boys murmur in unison, actual disbelief showing through their eyes,

So when you ran to go home the moment Mark’s number came into multiple voice mails, you didn’t look back or regret it. The boy was important to you. You were worried he was sick, perhaps dying too. You know he’s different but it doesn’t scare you, not anymore at least.

Mark’s a genuine guy who hides a lot from the word and people afraid he’s going to be judged or hurting people around him. You weren’t weak though. He might view you like a mortal, but you’re not weak.

The moment you’ve entered the house his room was shut on the lock. You knock constantly, shouting for Mark to open up. With few pants remaining in your breath.

“Mark you okay? Are you ill?”

…

“Please speak to me. What’s going on? Chenle said you’re ill.”

…

Another silent reply. You purse your lips into a thin line as you lean closer to the door, banging on it. But then when your right ear took a whiff of a soft growl emerging in the background of the room, your eyes widen. Pressing your entire ear on the door you could hear faint noises. Groans growing louder, animal-like growls and sometimes you would hear Mark cussing. You pull away hitting on the door again.

“Mark you don’t sound so good, please speak to me at least.” You demanded on your tip toes. This time you would hear creeks on the floor put on action as the door half jar opens. Seemingly Mark didn’t want to open it fully but he was caught by surprise when you kick the door open jumping in a hug to pull the boy in this warm loving embrace. He stumbles on the floor, aching at your heavy loving.

“Easy there.” Mark murmurs lowly as you sigh of relief. Your foreheads touch momentarily but when it did, he burned your skin, leaving a red mark. You flinch away in disbelief.

“Oh my god you’re burning up.” You exclaim and he lets go off you, pushing you off. Y/n blinks how much mark has separated himself from her, as he stands up. The entire body language was off putting, he was more socially distant, he seems distressed and aggravated, as if he was a dog going rabid. Mark wasn’t sure what this was, until he felt your presence. He curses himself for being this way.

You come forward to feel his forehead again but Mark immediately rejects your touch by pulling on your wrist, he squeezes it like a warning sent to you. The same look from the first day you met, he was flashing it right down at you. Looks that Kill.

Something was very much different about him, about his entire character. This wasn’t like him, perhaps this was a full moon transformation..

You thickly gulp, but you didn’t dare look away, you held the eye contact.

“Mark are you transforming tonight?” You trail softly. The boy lets go off your hand shaking his head, he sits on his bed, running fingers in through the black hair.

“No…”

You softly interrogate again, hoping to find the answer. “Then you’re definitely ill Mark, we need to get you to a hospital. Quick.”

He scowls at your human thinking immediately saying how dangerous this was. Doctors can easily find that his body is reacting different than the human body would. These type of people working in science and hospitals have been danger to him from the start, they could very much take his dna and run tests. Mark can’t risk being found out.

The man spat, showing hint of annoyance . “No that’s a suicide mission. I’m fine y/n.”

“You’re not fine. Just tell me what’s going on!” You exclaim with frustration, but the moment he told you your body froze .

“I’m going through my first rut. Now get out this could end badly .” Mark demands watching you up and down. “It’s already embarrassing for myself to be telling you this. I’d appreciate it if you just…leave for your safety.”’

The situation got worse, maybe in Mark’s head everything went downhill the minute he’s told you what actually was wrong. Because now you’re submitting yourself to a werewolf undergoing their first rut.

You see werewolves are social animals. They have to stick together with their own kind but it’s hard to do that when Mark is alone, technically he’s a lone wolf and it could severally damage and kill him mentally. Though he had you and he’s never felt the need to look for a pact or to feel lonely. You’re his driving force, his pack, the one he relies on more than family. You are his new family. In other words being apart really distressed him when he realised his body is undergoing the first rut. This was probably one of the things you really can’t help him out on.

Or at least that is what he thinks. You were full on tugging your body closing the door shut. Mark thought you would have left but instead you locked it in with you and him, in the room.

“Y/n I told you to leave.” Mark shouts.

“Mark you’re in pain I can’t leave you.” You tell in agony, walking to mark as you go on your knees watching him.

“You can’t help. Please go.” Mark looks away from you. You’re practically insane for even considering you could.

You shake your head. “Mark look at me I can help you. I’m not doing this out of pity. I’m doing this because i care for you.” Your hands reach the ends of his face bringing it around to look at you. The way your hands felt like a safe place for him to let go off every worry was like magic to him. He softly looks at you, as he runs his thumbs on your soft lips and at the end of your chin, lifting your face up. You were totally at his mercy, at his power. You’re on the floor submitting and something feral really went inside him, because the next minute he was dragging you on the bed pinned roughly on top of you, gazing in your eyes with the most killing look of a predator. The littlest movement makes your heart beat, he could hear you from miles away with that kind of heart aching at the danger he poses to you. But he didn’t sense fear from you mentally .

“You say you’re doing this because you care for me. Is there really nothing else to it?” Mark raises a question that’s truly been bothering him for a while. “In what way do you care for me exactly. Is it family? Friends? Or maybe something more...”

You watch him carefully as he runs his hands down your small waist, embracing the curvy figure you portray out there just for him to feel all night long. The way his fingernail traces itself to the hips and then stopping at your inner thighs where he squeezes tight leaving red marking on your skin. You flinch at the sharp pain with his nails dug in your skin, soft whimpers coming out of you, to him that felt like heaven hearing it through one ear the another.

“I want to be there for you. I hate seeing you go through this alone. Is it so wrong for me to give myself up to you?”

You shriek when he came closer hearing a very specific line that made him harder to control himself. Give myself up to you. Those words were exactly what he was looking for subconsciously. Just like any werewolf, they love to intend on power through their loved ones.

You knew you’ve done something to Mark, as if you have this big large chain leashing him to you because he grips on you tighter without any thoughts of letting you leave anymore. He gave you a warning, he gave you an option to leave. But it’s no longer there. He grunts.

“You’re making this hard for me sweetheart we’re you always this troublesome?” Mark growls watching you. You hum softly gazing down at his lips and eyes. “You do realise what you’re setting yourself in for, right?”

Mark spoke catching you off guard as you were already falling to his temptations like a mortal without any dignity. You strongly nod.

“I’m all yours Mark.”

God don’t say those words, it’ll be so hard to stop myself. Mark thought. He cursed you in his head wondering why you’re so compliant with this, you must be insane to be thinking of ever sleeping with him. Hell he could even kill you he doesn’t know. It’s just as risky as death, this was practically death to you. He doesn’t know how much control he’s going to have over himself to make sure you won’t hurt.

“Y/n…I don’t think this is..-“

You pull mark forward with a kiss on his lips, enough to let him know you’re fine with anything he’s willing to do and give you. If this is what helps him through the first rut she’s more than willing to. Perhaps your personal feelings got into the way, because you did end up having feelings for him, and you hate yourself for falling in love so quickly with the boy. But how can you not fall in love with him? Mark’s been an amazing company, a friend you could relate to, not only was he different, you really didn’t want him to live a bad life. He’s never hurt a fly. Mark survives on woodland animals or your freaking fridge.

He’s possibly one of God’s most Saint humans he’s ever created on this earth.

The next minute his lips were biting down on yours as he focuses on stripping you off the loose fabric. The man above you did as he pleases, exposing your bare skin to his eyes, you’ve blessed him the minute he was eyeing you down, he felt his mouth drooling just by looking at how flustered you already were from just a simple kiss.

You were rubbing on your legs together, becoming sensitive from just small areas like your neck. Mark husky voice paints your skin with goosebumps, as he speaks sweet nothings on them. Admiring the chain of reaction he has over your gracious body.

“you’re practically soaking down there, all from a kiss.” Mark announces with his deadly voice, slicking the fingers at your folds. You flinch upwards with a gentle moan, holding your palm on your mouth. He smirks, glancing up at you.

“I want to hear you y/n. Who do you belong to?”

You weren’t sure what’s gotten over you but you did not hesitate to announce that you were his only. To tell a boy you met in the woods late at night when he was trying to hunt you down like you’re his dinner, now this might be metaphorically just like that, he was burning for you, begging for some kind of release and physical touch. The hormones weren’t making it easier. Mark wasn’t thinking straight enough, you made him go absolute feral just by your consent and kissing alone. You grip the hem of his grey setback hoodie, looking him in the eyes.

“I belong to you, only you.”

Those words meant so little to other people in the society but to you and mark it changed the entire relationship dynamic. You see werewolves don’t mate for life but even though they take their picking partners seriously, if anything Mark would pick you over anyone. You’ve kept his secret. You’ve took him in your house. You came running for him just because he was going through his problems, you sacrifice a lot for him. Maybe this time, he should treat you. Make you his, give you the world. Work hard for you.

He wants a life with you he’s came to a conclusion. Mark doesn’t want to see you with anyone else but him.

The next minute you were stripped with a man with a chocolate abs hovering above you. You’d be loud enough to prevent neighbours to be worried for you, you aren’t going to surprised if tomorrow morning you run into them and they’ll be extremely awkward with you; there was no way they did not hear you, Mark was making it impossible to be quiet. Hell, he wasn’t going easy on you, but you loved that. Loving the way he was so animalistic about it, treating you with both love but can’t help to let out those whines and growls at once in your ears slipping them like music notes. The way he fit inside you with enough burning stretching, you became addicted to the pain. He whispers words of well done to you, words of how amazing you feel, that you’re his and no one else’s.

He can’t help but slip up a momentarily descriptive sentence that left you running laps, laps into liking the idea more and more the way Mark was begging for it.

“God Y/n do you want me to fill you up? Scream how much you want to be filled till you’re stuffed. Let others know what you want so badly.”

Mark groans feeling the inside become tighter, you were clenching unconsciously just by hearing the idea in your head, it sounded so good. You whine tugging your fingertips on his bare back, arching your body up as he was hovering you from behind, pounding without a single differ intention from stopping.

“please give it to me mark I’m begging. I need it.” You croak out into your hands. He smirks lazily, lifting you by your hair carefully. His lips start to trace you down like a map, marking you with reddish bruises going purple very quickly . His sharp canine teeth sent shudders down your spine practically.

“Mmm such a good girl for me. Taking whatever I give her. Never complaining.” He praises you, somehow leaning your validated with a warm happy emotion boiling in your abdomen.

Mark would do exactly as you wish. He won’t stop until you’re full as you demanded. Your walls painting white in his bodily fluids as he didn’t dare pull out immediately, Mark let’s you cock warm him for a while as he gathers the strength to drop his lifeles tired body beside you. You did the same rolling flat on your side of the bed.

Though by the end of it. You were both left in your calming presence. Mark pulling you closer as you snuggle in. He was much calmer and he felt happier it was with you. Him losing his first virginity to you. He whispers.

“you know when i asked what you felt for me?” mark softly tells in your ears as he was resting his face in your soft silky hair. inhaling your shampoo scent. you hum a soft yeah.

“I hoped you’d say you wanted to be more than friends.” he smiles to his childish thoughts. you look up with a soft grin,

Loving his round boba eyes watching you as if you meant so much to him, that he was so grateful for you. “I do. I love you.”

“I love you most, y/n.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu. Reblog this fic and follow me for more updates.

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct u scenarios #nct series #nct hard hours #mark lee fluff #mark hard hours #mark fanfic #nct mark smut #mark scenarios #mark lee hard hours #mark lee smut #nct fic #nct recs

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foxxology · 6 months

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How rude of them-

I'll listen to you talk about Skyfell fox. I'm good with my mycelium that I have.

Fun Facts about Skyfell! THIS IS A BIG ONE!

In Skyfell there are 8 kinds of categorized magic types.

Arcane Mage (Arcanist) - Think Wizards from DnD, they're magic is learned theory and limited to the material they have on hand to cast it. This sort of magic is very precise and usually ends up looking geometric when casting spells.

Bloodmage - Bloodmages derive their magic from their blood. When conjuring creatures or making fire, their blood is used as the material source. Because of this, most Bloodmages cannot cast excessively or else they literally pass out from blood loss. Bloodmages are usually passed through generations with their sources usually leading back to one of the other planes of existence.

Psi Mage - Mages of the mind! They can mould your brain like putty in their hands; hear your thoughts, cause mental blackouts, make you hallucinate, but that's the limitation since these intrusions can be relatively clunky and don't have much in the way of subtly. Psi Mages are seen as "relatively weak" when confronting anyone with even a bit of mental fortitude, after all, it's all in your head.

Silvertongue - Called as such because it's literal! Any Silvertongue is easily identifiable because of the intricate silver patterns on their tongue which is the focus of their powers. While Psi Mages are harsh in their mental intrusions, Silvertongues are able to literally weave words of magic to have their victim do any bidding they care for. Because of how dangerous this can be, Silvertongues are hunted. Can't weave words without your tongue.

Elemental Mage (Elementalist) - These are people bound to nature. As such they can only call on magic that directly comes from nature itself as an immediate equivalent exchange. Sapping too much natural energy from the surrounding plant life to seriously fuck up that one guy could kill a whole field for decades.

Additive Mage (Alchemist) - Alchemists aren't quite considered mages as their creation is more of a fusion of newly emerging technology and magic. You need to know the theorem of an Arcanist and the understanding of engineering in order to make these things work.

Devotion Mage - Clerics, Holy Warriors, and those stupid enough to sell their life to the devotion of a powerful being in exchange for power, all share the title of Devotion Mages. Magic derived from the powerful beings willing to give power to those who want or need it. Most of these sort of relationships can be for life, worse yet, if you're desperate enough to give your soul, there is no escape from your indentured servitude. Not even in death.

Esoteric Mage (Esoterist) - Esoterists are the messiest of the bunch. These mages play with things most don't dare to touch: concepts like shadows, the soul, fate, and more. There is no limit to what these mages could wield, if only their sanity could withstand the sheer volatility of the knowledge they want to understand.

#foxx just got a letter #skyfell comic talk

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scifigeneration · 6 months

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An X-Files expert on the show’s enduring appeal – 30 years on

by Bethan Jones, Research Associate at the University of York

On September 10 1993 the pilot episode of The X-Files aired. Thirty years later to the day, I was at a convention centre in Minneapolis with 500 other fans and the show’s creator, Chris Carter, celebrating its legacy.

Ostensibly a show about aliens, The X-Files swiftly became part of the cultural lexicon and remains there to this day. In part its success was down to the chemistry of its two leads – David Duchovny, who played FBI Special Agent Fox Mulder and Gillian Anderson, who played FBI Special Agent Dana Scully. After all, it was the X-Files fandom that invented the term “shipping” (rooting for characters to get together romantically).

But, as I argue in my new book, The Truth Is Still Out There: Thirty Years of The X-Files, what really made the series successful was its ability to tap into contemporary cultural moments and ask us to really think about the times we’re living in.

When the series began in 1993, the US was still grappling with the effects of Watergate and the Vietnam war, but concerns were also rising about the approaching millennium and the economic and cultural divisions within US society. It also coincided with Bill Clinton becoming president – marking the end of more than a decade of Republican leadership.

It’s little surprise that fears about immigration, globalisation, national identity and technology emerged and were adopted – and sometimes foreshadowed – by The X-Files’ writers. Several episodes throughout the first nine seasons dealt with artificial technology, for example, and Eve, an episode in season one about clones, came four years before the birth of Dolly the Sheep.

Critical theorist Douglas Kellner argued in 1994 that The X-Files “generated distrust toward established authority, representing institutions of government and the established order as highly flawed, even complicit in the worst crimes and evil imaginable”. Though I’d argue it was less that the show generated this distrust and more that it leveraged the growing number of reports about the government’s secretive activities to inspire its storylines.

As the public became more aware of the government’s role in – and surveillance of – public life, so too The X-Files considered the ways in which technology could be used as a means of control.

In the season three episode Wetwired, for example, a device attached to a telephone pole emits signals that tap into people’s paranoid delusions and lead them to kill. And in the season six episode, SR 819, a character’s circulatory system fails because he has been infected with nanotechnology controlled by a remote device belonging to a shadow government.

These themes reflected growing concerns about government agencies using technology to both spy on and influence the public.

The X-Files’ enduring appeal

During my X-Files research, carried out with viewers after a revival was announced in 2015, it became clear that the show has remained part of the cultural lexicon. As one fan explained: “The cultural context of conspiracy theories has changed since the beginning of X-Files. Nowadays, every pseudoscience documentary uses similar soundtrack and narrative.”

Of course, the X-Files didn’t invent conspiracy theories, but as one of the show’s writers and producers, Jim Wong, points out, it did “tap into something that was more or less hidden in the beginning when we were doing it”.

youtube

The focus on the rise of the alt-right, disinformation and fake news in seasons 10 and 11 seemed like a logical angle from which to approach the changing cultural context the revival came into. Carter and his co-writers dove straight in to what Guardian critic Mark Lawson calls “a new era of governmental paranoia and public scepticism”, fuelled by the 2008 financial crisis, the fall out of the war on terror and scores of political scandals.

Season 10 saw the introduction of a right-wing internet talk show host who argues that 9/11 was a “false flag operation” and that the mainstream liberal media lie to Americans about life, liberty and the right to bear arms. The parallels to conspiracy theorists like Alex Jones and Glenn Beck were obvious.

Carter’s incorporation of topics like surveillance, governments’ misuse of power and methods of social control meant that seasons ten and 11 were very much situated in the contemporary moment. This is perhaps most obvious in the season 11 episode, The Lost Art of Forehead Sweat, which deals with the disinformation of the Trump era head on. The episode’s protagonist, Dr. They, tells Mulder that “no one can tell the difference anymore between what’s real and what’s fake”.

While The X-Files’ search for the truth in the 1990s may have ultimately been a philosophical endeavour, in the 21st century it is a commentary on how emotion and belief can be more influential than objective facts.

Watching the show again while researching my book, I was struck by how it was dated predominantly by its lack of technology, rather than the ideas it expresses. In the second season episode Ascension, Mulder pulls a phone book off a shelf in his search for Scully – now we’d use Google. But in other aspects the show remains as relevant today as it was in the 1990s, encouraging us to think about the big questions relating to faith, authority and truth.

#science fiction and fantasy #science fiction #sci fi television #the x files #x files #sci fi tv #featured #Youtube

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sarafinamk · 1 year

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Sonic IDW Issue 56 Bad Ending

Summary: Surge claims she won't be free until Sonic is dead. Tails can't do anything but watch as it unfolds.

TW: Death, Electrocution, Strangulation, Murder, Attempted Murder

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"SONIC!"

He was right there.

He almost had him.

Even though Tails' eyes never leave Sonic, the distant flashing figure of Surge always remains within Tails' peripheral vision. The tenrec is just standing there, eyes glued on Sonic. It doesn't take a two-tailed genius to know that she's waiting for the first opportunity to strike. The ever-changing kaleidoscope of wisp energy and electricity flickering off of her sent the kit a very clear message. Tails needed to get Sonic out of the water now. It's not deep, so it'll be easier swooping his brother out. Surge, however, made it clear that she had other plans for the hedgehog. That message was made clear in the form of electric currents dancing in the water, pumping millions of volts into his system.

Tails pulls away on instinct. It could easily be written off as merely his astraphobia hindering him from saving the older hedgehog. The fox kit, however, knows that trying to touch his brother in this state is like touching a toaster in a bathtub filled with water. You don't touch it unless you have a death wish.

Much to his horror, he can't see anything that could get him close enough to his brother, let alone pull him out. Not without Surge's little lighting lake pulling him in as another victim.

He can't stop the source of the electric currents either because he has no way of defending himself from Surge. If he tries this time, she will target him instead. Sonic won't have enough time to get out of the water.

Tails had to do something. If only he'd stop shaking and staring at the flickering currents trapping his brother.

There had to be something he can do. If only he'd just snap out of it, and actually think of something.

Surge catches the hovering form of the blue rat's sidekick from the corner of her eye. He's not even trying to step in. He's just gawking at them uselessly. Without all those dumb gadgets, he can't do anything. The tenrec's pupils shrink with realization. This gives her the opening she needs to drive her message home.

To do what needs to be done.

She lunges at the convulsing blue hedgehog, screaming bloody murder.

"YOU DON'T GET IT! I was built to live in your shadow. It's in my blood, my bones, my BRAIN. There is no freedom for me..."

Her hands tighten around Sonic's throat, eliminating any chance he may have had left of getting air. The voltage invading the hedgehog's body kept him further restrained, allowing her to get a tighter grip on his windpipe without any pathetic attempts to fight back. Not that he can focus on that with his brain being fried. Her shark-toothed snarl is the only thing he can focus on as his vision dances to darkness.

"...NOT WHILE YOU'RE STILL ALIVE!"

The rainbow-like energy engulfing her body pulses with intensity thanks to the electricity flashing around her. However, Tails didn't shield his eyes from the energy's strong glare. He can't stop watching the scene unfold in front of him. The pounding in his chest urged him to dive down there and stop her. He know he had to, but something in his mind wouldn't let him. It kept him there in a helpless daze. His widened eyes match that of his older brother's.

The glass orbs in the dynamo cage glow a bright white before it suddenly shatters. With the glass no longer able to contain Surge's temporary power-ups, the five wisps emerge out. Their glow wasn't there, and their flight pattern was very wonky. To Tails' short-lived relief, however, none of them turned into nega wisps.

Surge stops sparking. The energy field around her dissipates. Her grip around Sonic's throat loosens. Her body drops face first into the water right next to Sonic. One of her hands lays close to his throat.

The wisps circle around the limp duo like a dim halo. Tails, snapping out of his trance, rushes over to his brother's aid.

"Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh--"

He lands next to the two fallen figures, stumbling onto his knees. His hyperventilating only made his coordination worse. He hastily pulls Surge off his brother, rolling her over onto her back. Before Tails can check for a pulse, he catches her chest rising and falling. He can only hope she didn't inhale too much water. Once he put Surge in a position where she wouldn't be able to inhale any more water, he scrambles over to Sonic's side.

The fox kit's heart plummets deep into the pit of his stomach. Sonic is decorated with bright red burns growing and branching out all across his skin like roots. The burns and fingerprints wrap around his neck in the sickeningly brightest shades of red. His mouth remains slightly agape. His muzzle has grown several shades paler with dull green eyes to complement it. His gaze never leaves the flickering white ceiling lights above.

"...Sonic...?"

Tails tries so hard to ignore the way his voice comes out barely above a whisper. The wisps surround them, getting a good look at their beloved blue hero, battered, burned and beaten black and blue. They look at Tails with doubt as one or two try to communicate something in their language. The fox knows what they're trying to tell him, but he knows better. Sonic will wake up, make some commentary about how that was shocking or gnarly or something, get up and get back into the fight. And all this will be done with a smile on his face.

It got harder to ignore the nausea bubbling in his stomach the longer the hedgehog's chest remains still. He's going to wake up. He has to wake up. He's done this so many times before. His brother has to be pulling a sick prank on him at this point if he's taking this long.

Tails calls out his name a few more times, each time getting louder and more desperate. He continues shaking his brother awake, begging him to wake up, His voice cracks more with each ignored plea. Not even his tears are doing anything to make his big brother answer him.

He places two fingers against Sonic's reddened neck, and all he felt is the skin losing its warmth.

No...

No, no, no!

There had to be a pulse. It's the adrenaline rushing at Tails' cold fingertips playing tricks. The pulse is just faint, that's all.

He did the only thing he could think of at this point: shake his brother awake with more force until the trembling of his voice made it impossible to get one more plead out. The boy threw himself at his brother's corpse, muffling his cries by pressing his face against his chest. The wisps circle around the sobbing kit clutching onto his big brother for dear life. There's nothing they can do but listen to Tails repeating Sonic's name over and over as if that will bring him back.

"Finally! Collect the dynamo cage and the tenrec!"

The unwanted sound of Eggman's voice commanding Metal Sonic breaks the kit out of his distress. Tails wanted to tell him off, to tell that cheater that this wasn't part of the deal. But the heavy lump in his throat wouldn't let him get any words out without the risk of breaking down again.

Fury burns in his lungs looking at the unconscious tenrec next to him. He doesn't see why he should even bother protecting Surge at this point. His brother's dead because of her.

No!

He promised Kit that he and Sonic would help them. Sonic would want to protect her from the doctor's clutches no matter what. Despite his fury burning hot, he inches closer to the unconscious tenrec. His body only partially hid her as he's adamant of keeping Sonic secure in his arms. He doesn't know how he's supposed to defend them and the wisps by himself. All he knows is that he'll do what he can to protect them.

Metal Sonic lunges at the group, only for a rush of water to rise up and slam the robot away. Tails looks up at a specific set of test tubes with a relieved, knowing look. Kit, no longer hiding between the tubes, hops down behind Dr. Eggman. Water tendrils slither around the fennec as he takes a few steps forward. His glowing magenta eyes are void of any emotion.

Eggman swivels in the boy's direction. He gets into a defensive position, but doesn't budge from his place.

"Stay out of this, you waterlogged whelp!"

Kit responds by merely lifting his hand up. Water tendrils sprout upon command. They proceed to coil around the doctor who can't help but yelp in surprise. Metal wasn't able to reach his creator before another set of tendrils wrap around his figure.

"What do you think you're doing? Unhand me, you little-- GRRK!"

The tendril squeezed the wind out of a raging Eggman before he could get another word out.

Water tendrils wrap around Tails who lets out a surprised yelp as he is abruptly snatched from his spot. He tries reaching out to Sonic only for his hands to be pulled away by the water around his wrist. He squirms in desperation when he feels his restraints coiling tightly around him. He tries to spin his namesakes, but to no avail.

"Kit!"

The water-bending fennec only acknowledges Sonic's sidekick with a passing glance in his direction. Tails can't pinpoint any sign of anger, disgust, or even sadness on the fennec's face. All that can be seen behind Kit's bangs is a pair of glowing magenta irises staring blankly at him. The water around him was rippling with rage, but everything in his body language is calm.

Menacingly calm.

"I know what's going on here. I've seen it before. Starline. Eggman. YOU. You're all the same. You don't need me or Surge. You WANT us. All that matters is what we can do, how you can change us. So you can prove that YOUR way is RIGHT. Surge killed Sonic just like she wanted. Now she can move on. And you don't have a purpose anymore. I'm going where I'm needed, and that's with Surge."

Everything that came out of Kit's mouth was spoken matter-of-factly. It leaves Tails with a chilling realization. They were never planning on calling it a truce with them. This was their plan all along, and they fell right into their trap.

With one set of tendrils, he brings Surge closer to him. With a flick of his hand, he sends another set to work on tearing apart the room piece by piece. The fennec watches the chaos unfold around him with a small unsettling smile. Every broken chunk of glass, concrete, and metal surrounding him left him with a startling sense of serenity. He wouldn't leave without delivering one final message to his enemies.

"I'll bury you all here along with our past."

Now that the water tendrils are no longer tampering with the room, everything began cascading down. Kit hovers out of the broken glass ceiling with Surge in his arms.

The water releases its grip on Tails. He scrambles to his feet, trying to maintain his footing. He panics upon realizing the wisps aren't with him. He tries to spot for any signs but only sees grey from the concrete and dust. From a distance, Tails catches Metal Sonic pushing Eggman up a slope. He had to give it to the man. He can run fast when his life depended on it.

"Such melodramatic histrionics... Faster, Metal!"

Tails turns around to find a familiar unconscious blue figure close by. Without thinking, he runs to Sonic. He can't leave his big brother like this.

But Sonic isn't waking up this time...

It hit him as he watches metal, glass, and concrete rain down on Sonic. There won't be any more jokes. No more quips, laughs, or reassurances that he was okay. Any hope left in the kit's chest is replaced with the suffocating truth.

Why did Tails think this time would be like all the other times?

At the other end of the room, Tails spots the five wisps. They're barely avoiding the raining debris while trying to stay together. Tail's mind screamed to go to them, but he feet refuse to cooperate. Everything moved slowly as he feels himself being overtaken by a whirlwind of thoughts.

If he leaves now, he'll be all alone again.

He doesn't want that life again.

He got so used to Sonic always being there with him, he can't imagine him ever leaving.

Maybe Tails doesn't have to be alone.

If he stays...

A roaring rumble from below snaps him out of his thoughts. The room is not going to hold for much longer. To his surprise, the wisps stayed in place. They're all giving him urgent looks. They want to get out of here now, but not without Tails...

He needed to get to the wisps and leave.

Now.

Whisper is waiting for them, and Belle is going to worry if no one returns soon.

With a heavy sigh and repressed tears, he flies over to the wisps, leaving Sonic to get buried in his new grave.

"Let's get out of here!"

The wisps cling onto Tails as he flies them through the raining debris. Even with five wisps on him, he has an easier time maneuvering past the raining rubble. That is until a fairly large chunk of concrete takes him by surprise and knocks him unconscious. The wisps wrap their tentacles around one part of the unconscious fox. Since they had no power to spare the fox, the wisps have to resort to being the ones to fly him out the old-school way. Even with five of them, they are straining themselves past their limit. They barely manage to dodge pieces of the ceiling.

A dark opening comes on sight. Getting a sudden burst of energy, they hightail it past the last bits of the rubble. They make sure to drop the fox kit gently before doing so themselves. The rumbling below overwhelms their senses for a moment before everything goes silent.

Right on cue, Tails groggily opens his eyes. He is greeted by a pounding in his head and the familiar silhouettes of five dimly colored wisps hovering around him, warbling their worries to the fox. He is exhausted in every way possible. All he wants right now is to go back to sleep and pretend this was just a nightmare. He'll wake up, and Sonic will be there like he should.

He slowly pulls himself up into a sitting position with the wisps' help. Every part of the kit is still shaky, including his breaths. He can't tell if it's nerves or the chill prickling his damp fur. Not that it makes much of a difference. He can't feel his legs, which doesn't bother him. He's not ready to stand up yet. It's taking all his energy just to stay sitting up. The wisps seem to be fine with that as some have clung onto him.

With his head in his arms, he bathes in the cold, dark, silence. Not even his soaked namesakes wrapped protectively around him can provide him warmth. That doesn't bother him. There's nothing and no one here left to bother him. No Eggman-

Come to think of it, Eggman and Metal Sonic got a head start in escaping and yet he's nowhere to be found. Tails hasn't seen hide, nor hair, nor metal. With Eggman, it would be impossible not to hear him. Could it be that they also...?

"Blah!"

Nevermind...

"Well, THAT was a waste of time..."

Eggman kicks away a large chunk of debris on top of him. Metal Sonic crawls out of the junk pile after his creator. Water drips off of both of them from head to toe. Metal is more or less indifferent to it, like usual. The doctor, on the other hand, is looking at his drenched lab coat sleeves with disdain.

"Metal, call ahead to the Eggperial City. I want a transport, a snack, and HOT BATH waiting for me when we get home. I have some important sulking to d-- Oh."

Eggman takes notice of the lone fox kit sitting with those meddling wisps, but no Sonic to be seen. Granted, he did see the whole pitiful display, including the damage done to the blue rodent. Under any other circumstances, the doctor knew they were as good as gone. But this is Sonic we're talking about here. He's cheated death an ungodly amount of times. If he's managed to survive having dark gaia energy in him or Infinite's illusions for half a year, then he very well could walk this off. Only this time the hedgehog actually bit off more than he can chew. And the worst part...

Eggman wasn't the one that succeeded in defeating that hedgehog.

"That duck-billed buffoon actually did it. He created an adversary that destroyed Sonic once and for all."

"And whose fault is that?"

Eggman scoffs.

"Don't give me that, now. I'm not the one who couldn't leave well enough alone! Starline should've known better than to think he can outdo me. I told him that I knew what I was doing, but no, he wouldn't listen."

"But YOU were the one who threw him out."

"That was perfectly well within reason!"

A switch went off in Tails' head.

"Reason?! You're the reason he created Surge and Kit! If you didn't throw him out, he wouldn't have found them. If you had just given him some recognition, he wouldn't have done all... THIS!"

"I made it very clear that I will not compromise my principles just for some kiss-up that didn't know his place. It's not my fault he couldn't get that through his head."

Tails looks at the man with disgust.

"What would YOU know about principles?"

"More than Sonic, it seems."

That got Tails to shut up real quick. Eggman took this as a sign to keep going.

"Everyone knows his principles revolve around freedom. What does he say? 'Freedom to go about his own way?' 'Live life the way you choose?' 'Free as the wind,' or something like that? Blech! Anyways, we all know how well that worked for him."

"Shut. Up-"

"Sonic ACTUALLY believed it would be a good idea to preach to Starline's little maniacs, of all people, about freedom, even when he knew they were conditioned to kill him. The idiot just wouldn't let it go. Both of us may refuse to compromise our principles, but that's the difference between us. My principles have kept me alive. His principles are the very reason he's gone."

"SHUT UP!"

Tails' chest tightens with every heave. His glaring blue eyes burn with more unshed tears. His lips drew back in a snarl, which only protruded the growing lump in his throat. Sonic's lifeless body flashes in the kit's mind.

'And you don't have a purpose anymore.'

This causes the kit to try growl, only for a whimper to come out of him instead. A whimper turns into a few choked sobs which unfurls into full-on sobbing.

Unable to spare the doctor another glance, he curls up into a little ball. The wisps are quick to come to Tails' side. They wrap their tentacles around the kit's trembling form, while warbling their condolences. Eggman and Metal leave the fox kit alone with the wisps, seeing as there is no point in reasoning with him in this state.

Kit's words repeat in his head like a broken cassette tape. The image of Sonic's glassy eyes won't go away. It makes him grit his teeth harder. The noise from the kit's throat came out as a mix between a growl and a scream, which worsened the pounding in his head. But he wants it to hurt. Maybe then the image of Sonic's lifeless eyes and the echoes of Kit's taunts will leave his head. It'll serve him right for being useless when Sonic needed him the most.

He just got Sonic back after six months of thinking he was dead. He swore that he'd be better, that he'd DO better. He wouldn't be a burden anymore. He wasn't going to run away or stand on the sidelines like with Infinite and every other crisis. He was going to be the little brother and sidekick Sonic needed. One that Sonic deserved. One that he can depend on.

But that's never going to happen.

Sonic's not coming back this time, and it's all his fault.

He almost had him, and he was right there.

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