#flying death

[evilhorse]

The Invaders #30

[rotteneyeball]

I held my breath...

...waiting for it to pass by. Perhaps if I sat still long enough it would lose interest, and go back to where it came from or was going to. The flapping of its wings, and shrieks roared in my ears. My eyes were squeezed shut and I said a silent prayer to myself that it and maybe this whole damned forest would disappear.

Silence met my ears, could it be gone?

My was dagger clenched uselessly in my hand, as I crept up from my position among the rocks and brush. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light. I could feel something different in the air, there was a stench, like rotted meat. There it sat.

Completely silent, completely still. Its eyes fixed on me, a look of curiosity mingled with disgust on its face. Almost as if it was thinking “what is this thing doing in my woods.” Her leathery wings poised to once again take flight.

After what seems liked an eternity of our eyes locked together I slowly started to back away. It twitched it’s head in alarm, and crouched down in what looked like an attack position.

I readied myself...

[twilitkingzant]

WELL, someone was kinda salty! Also, poor Moira... ;-;

[twilitkingzant]

Wow, I’m stupid. (That flying death though. Poor Moira...) XD

[meredithhunnter-blog]

Andreas Gering (1892-1957) Flying #death, watercolour on paper 1916

[lgbt-aesthetic-20018]

Credit to @queer_.aesthetic on Instagram and D.D (original artist - I can’t read the signature very well)

[zizygy]

Flying Death fic for spiritofthesmallplaces! A couple of notes: This story takes place after Deathwish (Luke) and Trebuchet (Silas) attend a summit discussing the use of kill orders in the superhero community. When the summit is attacked, Deathwish is one of the people that saves it, but accidentally kills a villain in the process. This is takes place when he comes home after being pardoned.  (I accidentally fucked up timeline-wise though, so although in canon they’re in their twenties when the Honor Summit happens, they’re in high school here. Just roll with it) Also for reference, Trebuchet’s power allows him to create forcefields that can store energy from being hit. He can then release all this energy from one of his forcefields, often bouncing himself or his enemies around a battlefield.   “What do you mean you don’t sell ‘sorry you kicked a guy so hard his head fell off condolences? What kind of a greeting card place do you consider yourself?"    The sales assistant shrugged helplessly, but Silas continued heedlessly on. “I mean he’s coming home from prison, I can’t just rely on my own creativity here, this is a special occasion! I can accept the lack of banners, but you don’t have anything welcoming home inmates? What about a superhero section?” Once again the employee, who was probably about twice Silas’ height, they really shouldn’t be that intimidated, just shrugged helplessly. 

Silas would have to do something about that. There had to be a market for superhero centric greeting cards. Stuff like ‘sorry I found out your secret identity, can I make it up to you with coffee?’ or, ‘thanks for saving our asses back there, I was not expecting binder powers’ or even, ‘the internet has been arguing over who would win in a fight for years, want to settle this once and for all?’ Okay, maybe he shouldn’t be in charge of coming up with superhero themed greeting cards, but he was pretty sure there’d be a market for them. For now though, he just grabbed a card from the graduation section. The cheery graphic had colorful hats and a cake and the inside said ‘Welcome Home!’ in bright orange letters. He scrawled a more specific note underneath on the bus back to their little hideout. As Deathwish and Trebuchet, the two almost-heroes mostly operated out of their own homes and met up at the sight of trouble, but about a year after they first started out, they agreed that they should have a place to meet up in the city itself for ~secret~ purposes. Over the years the abandoned building they’d found had slowly filled up with their stuff. Once the mattresses ended up there, they stopped operating from their respective homes. Luke had agreed to meet him here as soon as he was allowed back home (he’d been away on court mandated community service for the last couple of weeks) which meant that Silas had an estimated two hours to make this place worth looking at. Yesterday he had picked up celebratory cupcakes (he had thought about a cake, but then he would have had to explain what he wanted the cake to say, and short of going into the store as Trebuchet, he couldn’t think of a way to do that without making his connection to the superhero world painfully obvious) so he put those on the main table and leaned the card against the box. That done, it was time to think about the banner. Silas looked around. Boxes, sabers, various sports equipment and piles of clothes were all shoved against the walls, making them less than ideal places to hang decorations. He had colorful plastic stars that he could tape to the big wall in the back, but the banner itself couldn’t go there. Besides, banners and streamers were meant to hang he couldn’t just stick them flat on a wall. He looked up. The rafters were about ten feet above his head. A formidable, but not impossible, distance. He looked around the room again, at the piles of boxes, the weapons, the cupcakes on the table. None of that was going to help. He laid a small forcefield on the ground and jumped on it.   

He felt the forcefield absorb the minuscule energy from the jump. It wasn’t nearly enough for what he needed to do. He banished that forcefield, then made another one, this time in the shadow of a badly balanced stack of boxes. He grinned then, with a running start, collided right into the pile, so about half the boxes fell onto the forcefield on the ground. Then, just to be sure there was enough energy, he jumped on it a couple of times. That done, he grabbed one end of the banner and some tacks, then placed a second forcefield right under his feet. He transferred all the energy he’d stored in the first one into the new one and almost before he could prepare, he was being launched into the air. Unfortunately, in his haste to grab onto the rafter, he dropped his handful of tacks. He placed another forcefield onto the floor and aimed for that when he jumped back down. The door opened just as Silas was launching himself into the air to balance out the unevenly decorated room. “Si?" “Luke!” (or, that’s what Silas tried to say. Because his mouth was full of tacks, it came out as more of a ‘Lluaagh!’ but he was pretty sure his friend got the idea.) Luke looked down at the fallen tacks, then back up at Silas, who was holding onto the rafter by his fingertips. “I can’t leave you alone for two seconds, can I?” Silas laid out a forcefield a little above the ground (so he wouldn’t fall on any tacks) then dropped and rolled, getting to his feet with a little hop and a large smile). “Guess not! I’m so glad to see you back, you will not believe the rumors at school. I mean I told everyone you got the flu, but most people didn’t believe me. Jennifer said that you found a pretty girl and eloped, which I was laughing too hard to properly refute and um, I think the entire football team is under the impression that you’re secretly taking gymnastics and are going to show up at the next olympics? I’m not really sure how they got that idea, but that’s where you’re at socially.” Luke blinked. “Jennifer thought I eloped? With a girl?” “Right? It’s crazy, I have no idea where she got that idea. I mean, come on, you being romantic enough to stand up and leave everything?” he laughed, “that would never happen.” “I can totally be romantic!” Silas sat down on his forcefield, forcing the much taller Luke to practically bend down to see him. “Yeah? Name one time you made a romantic gesture.” Luke looked away and shuffled his feet. He’d had a crush on Malcolm who, almost opposite to Luke’s dark clothing and attitude was always wearing a pastel sweater tied around his neck that somehow went with whatever polo he was wearing that day, but aside from two awkward attempts to talk to the guy (both urged on by Silas) he hadn’t done anything that could be considered a romantic gesture. Silas made that infuriating face of his that managed to communicate that he knew he was right even before the argument had started (that particular expression had gotten him attacked by minor villains that should have been down for the count on four separate occasions) and Luke felt the need to retaliate. Somehow. “Well it’s nothing like almost killing myself trying to decorate a room for a welcome home party, but it’s something!” He yelled. His sense of satisfaction at Silas’ lack of a response faded as soon as he saw the stricken look on his best friend’s face. It didn’t take a genius to make the assumption that Luke just had (plenty of assholes at their school had said that and worse, and Luke had been happy to punch them for each unflattering comment) but they’d never actually talked about it before. For all Silas talked, he tended to avoid his actual feelings, and Luke really wasn’t the guy to probe that topic. In the silence following that remark, they both looked around at the base, at the card balanced next to the box of cupcakes, the hand painted banner hanging from the ceiling and the streamers covering one half of the building. Luke wondered if he should say something to apologize. Not that he necessarily needed to apologize, but it seemed the thing to do? He was saved from having to make a decision by Silas though. “So uh,” his friend started, his voice quiet against the tense silence, "did you know that Hallmark doesn’t sell superhero themed greeting cards?” “You don’t say.” He smiled a little and the tension broke. Apparently they were done with this topic. That was fine with Luke. “Yeah, the person there looked at me like I had two heads when I asked.” Luke gasped in mock concern, “They knew?” They teased each other until Luke suddenly remembered seeing the box on the table, then they ate cupcakes and caught up on what they’d missed in each other’s lives, only occasionally glancing at the streamers hung all over the right half of the room.

[benlovesmetal]

benlovesmetal