Yugioh Ash Blossom Novels & Stories

Flora--and Drew. That seemed odd to him. He knew that Flora Bigsby had been cast as the little girl, Zoey Zooly, the one that would help him fight the zombie unicorns, but he wasn’t sure who Drew was or what character she would be playing. Or could it be a guy? Had they decided to cast a person as one of the unicorns instead of using the CGI he’d been told about? “Hello,” a woman dressed in a matching red skirt and jacket with a white, ruffled shirt beneath it said in a thick French accent, seeming to appear out of the shadows like a specter. “I’m Gen.”

and My hand bled from all the continuous hammering. I even gave him the prettier one and wore the other around my neck. Despite that, he threw it away without even bothering to look at it. He held on to the latest Lego set that Leia had given him and said with disdain, “Mom, don’t give me such worthless things anymore.” I stared at the discarded necklace in grief. But all I could do was smile awkwardly and nod in agreement. After all that, he still wanted to snatch my necklace from Lucas? Seeing my refusal to help him, he started crying.

None of these people requires my mercy anymore, I’ve done playing games with them, halfway of dealing with these villains, I’m not longer used my gun nor SMG or even rifles that the dead guards were holding, Instead, I unleash my deadliest and my favourites moves, the Thousand Cherry blooms. “The..fuck?!!…where the heck does this pink flowers comes from?!!….….ARAARRRGGHHH!!!…MY EARS!!!!…”. “HELP!!…MY HAND!!!…FLOWERS CUT OFF MY HAND!!!…”. “MY EYES!!!…I CANT SEEE!!!…ARRRGGHHHH!!..”.

“No. But I should have. Guys like you usually bring them with you.” I smirked. “Guys like me?” “Leather, tattoos… gunshot wound,” he said dryly. “You scream of trouble.” He wasn’t wrong. “And you don't want any of that?” “Name’s Ash,” I muttered when he didn't reply and finally regretted it. Where were we? Tenth grade? I was watching him move around the small room tending to my wounds with precision. “Noah.” He finally said, not looking up. “Thanks, Noah.”

With that statement, Aries hisses his agreement. Images begin to project on the wall behind her as she continues to speak. Which is weird considering she hasn't moved an inch. "Ironclad dragons. Phoenixes. Leviathans. Direwolves. Storm Gryphons. Moon Serpents. Flame Hounds. Cerberus'. Unicorns. Frost Lynxes. Kitsune. Ash Ravens. Nemean Lions." She says with confidence as the images change behind her head still without any movement. "And of course the many extinct or the now unwilling bonds that you will learn more about in your history classes." she says as the images flick again and my breath stalls.

I needed it to snap. Then I found out that Ashina was the flame, while Boris, the fuse. And Dragor? He was the powder keg, drunk on his illusion of control. Therefore, when Ashina agreed to sacrifice herself—or pretended — she unknowingly placed herself right where I needed her. The King would rage, Boris would burn, and I would stand at the centre, fanning the flames while pretending to be soaked in water. Almira? She was just a distraction, the naive niece of mine.

The floor is cold against my knees, but the woman crouches with me, graceful despite the bones jutting from her spine like half-grown wings. She reaches into a pouch hanging from her belt and pulls out a thumbful of ash—not black, not white. Red. She dips two clawed fingers into it and touches my brow. Her claws are warm. She draws a spiral fang over my forehead—pressing the shape slow, deliberate. A symbol. Not a spell. A memory. “The tether’s either going to break,” she whispers, “or bury itself in your spine until you forget your name.” The stone under me throbs. The air tastes coppery, like breath drawn through rust.

She stood up, her silver blades reflecting the starlight, and began to walk toward the new forest. ​The war of the Alpha and the Billionaire was over. The age of the Ash-Born had begun. And as the golden leaves of the "Black Bloom" rustled in the wind, the city of Neo-Tokyo didn't sound like a machine anymore. It sounded like a song, a long, complicated, beautiful anthem of a world that had finally learned how to breathe on its own.

He would stare at the apple tree you planted by the wall and count the fruit. "Whenever the blossoms came in, he would stay excited for days. "He kept telling me that once the branches were heavy with apples, it meant you were coming home. "And every time you did come back, he shared half the apples with the other children." "He would puff out his chest and tell them, 'My mom planted this tree for me! My mom is coming home!'" For a moment, Jennifer seemed to see it too: the small boy with his shirt gathered into a pouch, full of apples, running around and handing them out.

He returned to sit next to me. "It's not in my phone either. Just give me yours.” "Then what exactly do you want to do?” I drained what was left of my drink, dropped the bottle on the table with a loud thud, then faced him. "Listen, Asher. You're gonna give me a thousand bucks upfront. And another thousand bucks after this deal. I have valuable info.” His eyes narrowed. "Really? Isn't that too much?” "Then forget it. I'll give you what I think your one thousand five hundred bucks is worth.”