Lorelei's Second Magi Writing Contest **Closed**

[Sourikus]

Wait, you don't want feels?

And can Tsura I write about Kieran and Tyrone? Or Donovan...hmmm...

I don't want to cry... Too much. If I get a little choked up that's fine.

If someone cries more than the main character there is something wrong.

[MageLorelei]

Wait, you don't want feels?

And can Tsura I write about Kieran and Tyrone? Or Donovan...hmmm...

I don't want to cry... Too much. If I get a little choked up that's fine.

If someone cries more than the main character there is something wrong.

But I cry when reading all the time! Like, at the end of The Amber Spyglass, and the end of Inheritance, and at the end of The Last Olympian, and pretty much half the Harry Potter books. Or at the beginning of Up, Or the end of The Time Traveller's Wife, or when Mufasa dies in The Lion King, or the entirety of Big Hero 6. My tears never end... I hate it. Wait, what were we talking about again?

[Sourikus]

But I cry when reading all the time! Like, at the end of The Amber Spyglass, and the end of Inheritance, and at the end of The Last Olympian, and pretty much half the Harry Potter books. Or at the beginning of Up, Or the end of The Time Traveller's Wife, or when Mufasa dies in The Lion King, or the entirety of Big Hero 6. My tears never end... I hate it. Wait, what were we talking about again?

Whoa. Should I make an attempt to double-spoiler my story then?

[MageLorelei]

But I cry when reading all the time! Like, at the end of The Amber Spyglass, and the end of Inheritance, and at the end of The Last Olympian, and pretty much half the Harry Potter books. Or at the beginning of Up, Or the end of The Time Traveller's Wife, or when Mufasa dies in The Lion King, or the entirety of Big Hero 6. My tears never end... I hate it. Wait, what were we talking about again?

Whoa. Should I make an attempt to double-spoiler my story then?

Nah, I'm good.

@Applemint Also, yes, Tsura/You can write about Tyrone.

[Mellwen]

Oh my goodness! Y'all's stories are so good! Sad, but good. Now then. @Lorelei, do I have to use a real MS magi or something, or do I come up with my own? I've been a member of MS for awhile, but I'm really not very familiar with all the MS stuff (names of the animals, different Magi stuff, etc.). I would love to write a story, but I'm not really sure how to do it with MS stuff. So, if someone could help me, that would be awesome.

[Sourikus]

Oh my goodness! Y'all's stories are so good! Sad, but good. Now then. @Lorelei, do I have to use a real MS magi or something, or do I come up with my own? I've been a member of MS for awhile, but I'm really not very familiar with all the MS stuff (names of the animals, different Magi stuff, etc.). I would love to write a story, but I'm not really sure how to do it with MS stuff. So, if someone could help me, that would be awesome.

You can ask me for help if you need it. But I'm sure you'll be fine.

[Mellwen]

Thanks Sourikus. I might have to take you up on that sometime. I'll PM you if I need help.

[Foleo]

Username: Applemint

Spoiler

Tyrone's dying, and the blood won't stop.

I'm calling for the medics, begging them to help, but they can't hear over the havoc of war—or maybe they just won't listen—and the blood just keeps flowing, flowing, flowing through my hands and oh god, why is there so much?

Tyrone's fingers brush mine—my inadequate, useless fingers that can't even keep his blood inside of him—and he smiles that stupid smile of his and mouths three simple words and no, this can't be happening, there must be a mistake—

A healer rushes over, crouches down, feels for a pulse. She shakes her head, and moves to leave.

I kill her.

Because the world doesn't need someone who won't even try to save Tyrone.

Two bodies next to me now. The stupid, no-good healer, and...and Tyrone.

Beautiful, graceful Tyrone. Talented, skilled Tyrone. Tyrone, my lover.

With Tyrone gone, there's no need to protect myself. There's nothing to go back home for, no aproned earth mage waiting with a stew that looks more radioactive than edible, that I choke down anyways if only to see his smile of pure, unadulterated joy. No more trailing butterfly kisses on the exotic red tattoos marked across his fair, unblemished skin; he still won't—will never, now—tell me where they came from, or what they mean, but it doesn't matter. He'd tell me when he felt ready, and I'd love him irregardless of what he said. I guess I'll never find out.

He had lifted me out of hell, but now the wings disappeared like mist and I became a demon once more.

When I reach the front lines, a battered mage looks at me in relief, glad that reinforcements were coming. He doesn't understand. I'm not there to "hold the line". I'm there to get revenge.

I walk straight into the midst of the enemy, and for a moment they are confused. The decapitation of an entire squadron seems to cure their disarray; orders are barked, a wave of soldiers washes towards me.

A swordsman swings his blade into my shoulder, eyes glinting triumphantly. As a reward, I create abstract art with his blood.

It doesn't even sting. In this cold dance of crimson, everything feels pleasantly numb.

The dark mage slumps to the ground, his undead beasts crumpling beside him as my shadow lance strikes true. I fall to my knees too, barely catching myself on my hands.

A sharp intake of breath, and Tyrone is beside me, his hands feeling me for injury. "Kieran, are you hurt?" he asks, voice panicky and high-pitched.

I turn away from him, concealing the gash down my side with my cloak. "I'm fine, Tyrone," I lie, "Just a bit tired." And he smiles in relief.

Later, when I get Lorelei alone, I make her swear not to tell Tyrone. She yells at me, berates me for hiding such a wound, but she keeps silent. I'm glad, because Tyrone has enough to worry about without me adding to his burdens.

An animal roar breaks from my throat as reaching, grabbing hands emerge from the enemies' shadows and snap their necks. They're scared now, even the most veteran soldiers backing away.

How could I have let these cowards kill Tyrone?

It's much more satisfying, I find, gutting them in close combat than it is killing them from afar. It's almost funny how easily they fall. Just one stab of a shadow-blade up from under their ribcage, and they crumple like leaves.

The way to a man's heart is through his stomach, Tyrone always said.

The soldiers are all but throwing themselves at me, and it's ridiculously easy to fall into a pattern. Thrust, slash, thrust, slash. It's almost funny, the expressions on their faces, when I shrug off their flimsy arrows or the minor flesh wounds their swordsmen inflict on me.

They don't understand that when Tyrone died, I did too—and my corpse will keep on fighting as long as it takes to avenge him.

An injured soldier is crawling across the ground, leg dragging uselessly behind him. Pathetic. I walk over, slowly, languidly—because what was the use in rushing? They were all going to die anyways.

A thick pole pinning my leg to the ground, the enemy approaching. I raise my hands in preparation to cast a spell, but I know I don't have any magic left. I don't mind though—before the mission started I got my first kiss with Tyrone. If I close my eyes I can still feel his lips on mine, soft and chaste.

I had told him I loved him, right before I kissed him. It'd left him sputtering and blushing in that cute way of his, and I left before he could recover.

At least he knows my feelings now, even if I don't make it back.

Another soldier, perhaps eighteen years of age, leaps in front of him, arms spread, tears trailing down his face. He's saying something in their language, mostly too rapid-fire for me to decipher, but after months of fighting I've picked up a few words. It seems he's begging for his friend's life.

"Stop! Can't you see he's injured? Fight me instead...don't hurt Kieran..." I open my eyes to see Tyrone, of all people, in front of me. He's holding a crudely constructed, crystal sword, but his hands are shaking so much it's a wonder he doesn't drop it.

Tyrone never was meant for the front lines.

As the soldier falls, blood spraying from a neck wound, his helmet comes flying off and a long, brown braid falls out.

And because he's such an idiotic fool, he just stands there as the enemy shoots a fireball at him. He staggers back, falling to his knees, and I see a blackened hole in the front of his shirt, revealing angry red flesh underneath.

"Why?" I ask in horror, cursing my uselessness, damning my immobile leg.

"Because," Tyrone turns and smiles that stupid smile of his, as if we weren't in the middle of a battle, as if we were merely in a quaint cafe on the streets of the Merchant District, "I love you too, Kieran."

*************

Everything goes quiet.

It's strange, really. I can see the chaos spinning around me, but I can't...hear it. Slowly, curiously, I look around.

And my gaze falls on the wood-handled spear jutting out of my abdomen. I follow it to its wielder, and see the injured soldier from before. There's angry tears flowing down his cheeks, and my blood's splattered all over his uniform. His own blood, too. He had run straight into my blade.

We are alike, him and I. All we're trying to do is to deal retribution for what we have lost.

Together we fall, the two avengers, crumpling to the ground like forgotten marionettes. And marionettes we are, in this mindless war. But the show's over for us. The hero became the villain and was slain by one of his victims in a bout of poetic justice. The end.

"I love you,"

That's what Tyrone had said, in his last breath. It only seems right to answer him in mine. I look to the heavens, because if there's really an afterlife, that's where Tyrone would be.

"I love you too, Tyrone..."

WIP. Probably the entire thing's gonna change haha

EDIT; Finished! It got really sappy at the end. If I have time, I'll tweak some stuff.

[Zeteri]

Username: wolves10

Spoiler

The bamboo forest was quiet, only the rustle of the wind through leaves. It was dawn the sun just rising over the tall bamboo forest. Some Agaori's walking an flying from there best to find food for their young. Along with a Swallowtail Dragon flying overhead. Blinking in the bright light if the sun Uzra sniffed the air trying to find the best bamboo before the other creatures eat them, just like she always did every morning. But today was different, love was in the air and the strong scent of flowers gathered from the clearing was filling the air. As she walked toward the other Xand Bears she saw older and younger bears everywhere, but sadly
she was too late, eating before going had cost her there was no one left... accept the cub. Walking over to the cub she asks "are you lost" looking at the crying cub Uzra realized it was alone. "I -I want my mommy" the cub said to Urza. By looking at the poor cub Uzra knew it was unlikely the cub would find it parents so instead she said "follow me. Your not the only one alone." Looking up the sniffling cub just nodded and climbed on Uzra's back.
After a few weeks of searching for the cubs mother Uzra found multiple stranded cubs. Then she found the perfect place. A place where se could build a huge nest to hold all the cubs she had found. After starting a little daycare for the young bears another bear came asking if she had seen his son. Uzra knew instantly who his son was. Taking him to his son tears filled his eyes and at the same time filled the cubs and Uzra's. "I knew we would find them someday somehow" Urza said to the cub. "Ya! Now me have mommy and daddy!" Both the father and Uzra were shocked at what the cub said and decided they'd give it a shot the end.

[Foleo]

Username: Applemint

Spoiler

"K-kieran...It hurts..." Tyrone’s words were interwoven with harsh gasps.

"We can stop if you want." Kieran’s voice, husky and low, reverberated around the thin walls of Tyrone’s room. "We don't have to do anything you’re not ready for."

Tyrone moaned, and a dull thump sounded. "No," he panted, "I said I'd do this. Just...just give me a second to get used to it..."

Lorelei's eyes widened, and she clasped a hand to her mouth to stifle an excited squeal. She was pressed as close as she could to the door, a blush starting to form on her cheeks.

No, scratch that. Her face was so pink, it could probably pass as a cherry. The groceries she had brought lay abandoned on the floor, spilling out of their paper bag.

"Tsura, what's happening?" Lorelei hissed, looking at the girl beside her with desperate eyes.

Tsura squinted through the keyhole. "Tyrone’s shirtless," she commented.

If it was even possible, Lorelei's face reddened even more. "What else?" she prompted eagerly.

"He is very sweaty."

Lorelei choked on her own spit, and spent the next minute pathetically trying to silence her coughs.

By the time her fit ended, she squashed her ear against the door again. She yearned to tackle Tsura away from the keyhole and take his spot, but something told her that attacking a ten-year-old was not socially acceptable.

“Nngh…Kieran…I can’t hold it…I’m gonna—“

“I CAN’T TAKE IT ANY MORE!” Lorelei screamed, barreling into the door—which was incidentally unlocked. “KIERAN, STOP CORRUPTING TYRONE’S INNOCENCE!”

Tyrone dropped the barbell onto himself, the heavy weights knocking the air out of him. As he struggled to free himself, Kieran blinked, bewildered, at Lorelei. “Hi Lorelei,” he said cautiously. “I was, er, spotting Tyrone.”

Lorelei paused, her lips still open in preparation of yelling at Kieran. Then she whirled to Tsura, who had slunk in after her, groceries in tow. “Tsura—but you said—shirtless—sweaty—“

“But he is,” Tsura deadpanned, pointing to where Tyrone finally rolled the barbell off of himself.

“A tank top does not mean shirtless!” Lorelei tugged at her hair in exasperation.

“Well,” Tsura smiled innocently, “a tank top’s not a shirt, and since Tyrone’s not wearing a shirt, he’s shirtless.”

“But—but Kieran’s voice—“

“I have a cold, so my voice sounds a bit strange—wait, how long were you listening?” Kieran threw his arms up in surrender. “You know what? Never mind. I’ll be going now.”

“Hey guys, I’m here for the party!” Donovan waltzed into Tyrone’s room, stopping short upon seeing the scene. “Uh, did I miss something important?”

“Not at all! Why would you think that?” Lorelei said, a bit too quickly.

“Kieran’s horrible at spotting,” Tyrone groaned.

“Are tank tops considered shirts?” Tsura asked.

you're all pervs