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lizzygrantarchives · 13 years ago

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British Vogue, March 2012

Lana Del Rey, pop’s newest seductress, overnight internet sensation – and fashion’s latest crush – has hypnotised with her melancholic songs of bruised hearts. Jess Cartner-Morley catches up with an enigmatic sweetheart.

Our hotel-room rendezvous was billed as an interview; it wasn’t until afterwards that I realised Lana Del Rey turned it into a seduction. She had given straight answers to almost none of my typed list of questions; at the time, I barely noticed and didn’t care. Her voice was rich and slow as treacle, and she sat close to me on the sofa, holding my gaze with eyes hooded and sad beneath those showgirl lashes, weaving a web of half-told stories, making every evasion feel like a heartfelt intimacy. She’s good, this girl, very good.

Lana Del Rey is a siren for the YouTube generation. Last May, when she was an unknown 24-year-old living in New York, singing in clubs in the East Village, she made a video montage on her laptop to accompany “Video Games”, a bruised, melancholy love song she had recorded. The video feels like a homage to American teenage summer love – jumping into swimming pools, a stars-and- stripes flag in the breeze, the view of trees you get when you’re lying on the grass – spliced with film of Lana herself, dolled-up and deadpan, singing into the camera. Within weeks, the video went viral; by the end of the summer, she was an internet sensation with a record deal. Before her album was finished, let alone released, she was selling out gigs and being analysed as a pop-cultural phenomenon in the broadsheets.

There is something very odd about Lana. It is as if a David Lynch character has walked into a music world mostly scripted by Simon Cowell. Her popularity flies in the face of the current accepted wisdom that showing the public how real and normal you are, Adele-style, is the key to success. Lana’s oddness – a sense that there is something spooky or unsettling about her – is what gives her star quality, more than the gorgeous voice, or the beautiful face. The china-doll veneer of her look combined with the sad, sad look in her eye, and her lyrics, which are about heartbreak – not the peppy, let’s-get-back-together-baby version which is the common currency of pop, but real heartbreak.

Lana answers the hotel-room door in Wrangler jeans, T-shirt and white Converse. She is wearing small pearl stud earrings and a silver chain around her neck. She is 25, but looks younger, and the effect of the outfit – combined with her girlish best-behaviour manners and a startling, honking laugh – is teenage-babysitter cute. Except, this being Lana Del Rey, the look is set slightly off- kilter by some extraordinarily vampish nail art and false lashes that look scaled for a Las Vegas nightclub stage. Oh, and the fact that rather than being paid a few dollars for an evening babysitting, she has just stepped off a flight from Beijing, where Dior flew her to sing at a party. (So busy is her schedule, they had to make a two-hour stopover in Heathrow, on her way home to New York, just for this interview.) She sips her soda through a straw, the better to preserve the richly glossed lips – which in the flesh are full but not as cartoonishly so as they appear in her videos, routinely sparking rumours of collagen (these she flatly denies). Her long hair, the colour of a fox’s tail, is set in her trademark Veronica Lake waves; on her left hand she has a tattoo of an M, for her grandmother Madeleine.

She sings about love. Not about flirting or having crushes or first kisses, but the grand amour type of affair that, in art, always ends badly. She wrote the just-released Born to Die album “because even though I can’t be with that person anymore, I still want to honour those memories. I felt like falling in love changed me, neurologically, and the record is about being faithful in my mind to the memory of a particular person.” I ask if it’s all about one specific past relationship, and she giggles and says, “Yeah, definitely.” So I ask if she’s still in contact with him, to which she replies, “Um, I’m in contact with his mother.” This is such an odd answer that I have to ask, is he still around? She fiddles with her hair and chain, and says, “Um, he’s somewhere else, but he’s, um, around, yes.” So of course now I am dying to ask: is he dead? In prison? But she is staring at me wide-eyed, and looks quite panic-stricken, and I have no idea now whether this line of questioning is going to make her cry or whether she’s playing me, but I don’t have the heart to pursue it.

I’d bet that Lana has some stories to tell, if and when she chooses. She has described the album as “a tribute to living life on the wild side”, but when I ask her about this, she says, “I’m sort of kidding, because I’m not that wild anymore.” When I ask how wild she used to be, she winces and says, “Um, pretty wild.” In what way? She winces again and laughs, and says, “Pretty much any way, I guess, but it was a long time ago.” OK, so how long have you been... not wild? “Seven years. I used to drink a lot. Too much. I haven’t had a drink for seven years now.”

Autobiography is never far from the Lana Del Rey story. She was born Lizzy Grant in Lake Placid, a quiet, half-forgotten mountain town at the outer edge of New York state. Her father is a real-estate broker. “It is cold, sub-zero cold, for nine months of the year,” she says. Not much happens in Lake Placid, by the sound of it, and Lana’s family didn’t have a television. At 14, she was sent to boarding school in Connecticut; as a teenager, she says her musical tastes revolved around “Eminem and current rap, and that was about it. I was singing in school, and writing things here and there, but music wasn’t a big part of my life.”

Her interest in music seems to have begun with falling in love with the characters that musicians can make for themselves, rather than in the chords-and-keys sense. One of Lana’s defining memories is seeing, aged 11, the Anton Corbijn-directed music video for Nirvana’s “Heart-Shaped Box”. “I was just floored by it, by seeing Kurt Cobain as a person. I had never seen anything like it.” Aged 18, she moved to New York to study metaphysics at Fordham University and “that was when my musical experience began. I kind of found people for myself.” She made rent doing odd jobs on Craigslist: “Helping somebody move across town for a day, or appearing in NYU student B-movies for $100 cash, that sort of thing.”

Lana “loved Bob Dylan as a person before I heard his music. I liked that he was political, and I liked that he was kind of a bum. It made me feel better about the way I was living at the time, really day to day... the way you do live when you are young and in New York.” She was also influenced by Elvis because “he made me realise how beautiful the human voice could be. Him and Frank Sinatra.” The torch-song heritage is strong on Born to Die, but the bored teenage years listening to Eminem and Biggie Smalls weren’t wasted either. “That music taught me that it was OK to tell your story in a song,” she says.

There was a false start to Lana’s career five years ago. She signed a record deal, earning $10,000 dollars, which she spent on renting a trailer outside New York City for a year and a half. An album was released, then shelved, and the momentum faded away. Lana “shifted focus onto other things” – primarily working in community service. “Homeless outreach, drug and alcohol rehabilitation – that’s been my life for the past five years. My friends are a core group of girls I met through work, and they never really knew I was a singer, because nothing was ever happening. I consider myself coming out of retirement as a singer at this point. Until last year I hadn’t been on stage for three years.” Lost love, wild days, and an almost evangelical service ethic: there are a whole lot of tantalising elements to the Lana Del Rey back story, but she doesn’t ever give away quite enough to let you figure out how they fit together.

No one describes Lana’s look better than Lana herself. “Gangster Nancy Sinatra”, “Lolita got lost in the hood”, and “I live in Monaco but don’t fuck with me” are just a few of the lines she has used. Ferdy Unger-Hamilton, who signed Lana to his Polydor label and describes her as “scarily smart”, says, “It is rare to find an artist who can step out of themselves and visualise how they will be perceived.” The fashion world has fallen for Lana in a major way. After “Video Games” was the hauntingly beautiful soundtrack to Christopher Kane’s spring/summer 2012 London show, other labels followed. Just before the Dior gig in Beijing, she sang a set as the star of a Mulberry party at the Chateau Marmont. She tells me that when she and her sister came up with the name Lana Del Rey eight years ago, she conceived it as “the name for an art project that I could build a sonic world around”. But, in the next breath, she is adamant that the way she looks in the videos is just the way she naturally is, and that she doesn’t have a style. “If I’m going on television, I guess I should wear something nice, but that’s as far as it goes.” Asked who she thinks has great style, she says she can’t think of anyone. Pressed, she offers Grace Kelly. I get the impression that she is holding back on talking about her image because she knows that any soundbite she gives on how she looks will be the quote everyone remembers, and will be seized upon by the internet trolls who have it in for her.

Such is the breakneck speed of modern celebrity that Lana was the victim of an online backlash within weeks of having her first hit single, with detractors accusing her of being fake. The top line of internet gossip is whether she has had collagen in her lips, an obsession which seems to be her critics’ way of articulating a sense that Lana’s persona feels confected. Photos of her as a teenager looking pretty but less dazzlingly styled are posted as triumphant evidence that she is somehow inauthentic. It is puzzling, because no one goes online and tries to expose Lady Gaga as a fraud because she didn’t wear Philip Treacy lobster hats to school.

The difference, I think, is that Lady Gaga isn’t trying to be sexy. Lana’s combination of a theatrical persona and a flesh-and-blood sex appeal frightens or threatens people in some way. Lana seems genuinely disquieted by the vitriol she has experienced. I get halfway through a question about her lips and her hands fly up and cover her mouth, which is such an unexpected reaction that I break off and ask something else instead. She says what bothers her most is the prevalence of the idea that she doesn’t write her own music, and that she can’t sing. Success has been a bittersweet experience so far.

Now – ironically for the newly crowned queen of heartbreak pop – Lana has a boyfriend. This much she will tell me, but no more. Who is he? “Just a guy.” How long have you been seeing him? “Um, I don’t know. I guess the last couple of months.” Is he involved in music? “Um, I guess, no.” So when she writes another record, will it be a happier one? “Oh, I don’t think I’ll write another record. What would I say? I feel like everything I wanted to say, I’ve said already.”

Originally published in the March 2012 issue of British Vogue with the headline The Video Star.

#2012 #Born to Die #British Vogue #Jess Cartner-Morley

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captainkawaii666 · 1 year ago

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Fairy Tail: Siren Voice

Chapter 2: Donoban, the Dragon Hunter

Hey, it's the second chapter! This is where things really pick up, with the first real fight and some more characters! We're still 300 years ago at the moment, but that won't last too much longer (for better or worse). Enjoy!

Sonia Amparte walked through the streets in excitement. Silva, the little town about a mile away from her home in the forest, was normally relatively small and cozy, but tonight, it felt huge and alive. Lanterns were strung up over every street, colorful flags were flying in the air, and more people than she had ever seen in her life filled the streets, dancing and talking and laughing. The light reflected off her shiny green dress, which Cacophon had finally gotten her into after about an hour of fighting (though she was still wearing her usual outfit beneath it). She walked slowly through the town, looking around in awe at the normally relatively quiet houses and shops, until she saw a girl with short, messy golden hair waving excitedly at her from her perch on the edge of a fountain.

Sonia broke into a run, heading straight for the girl. “Marla!”, she yelled. “I’ve been lookin’ all over for you!”

“I’ve been right here the whole time, dummy,” Marla Yesta giggled. “Just like I said I would be.”

“My daughter means to say that she was so distracted by all the decorations that she forgot where you were,” Cacophon said as she walked up behind Sonia in human form.

“Moooooommmm,” Sonia groaned, turning to look at her foster mother. “You weren’t supposed to tell her that.”

Marla hopped down from the edge of the fountain and stood up, wrapping her arms around Sonia. “Well, the important thing is that you’re here,” she said happily.

Sonia opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Marla stopped hugging her and grabbed her by the hand, then ran off into the crowd, dragging her along. Cacophon grinned at her foster daughter and waved, then disappeared into the crowd.

“I’m gonna make sure you have as much fun as possible for your first ever Dragon’s Festival!”, Marla said as she pulled Sonia towards a stand where a man wearing no shirt sat. When she reached the stand, she abruptly stopped, causing Sonia to trip over herself a bit. “Flowers, please,” she said to the man behind the stand.

“Of course,” the man replied. He cupped his hands and said, “Ice Make: Bouquet!”

To Sonia’s amazement, a carefully-crafted bouquet of flowers appeared in his cupped hands, which he handed to Marla. Marla turned to Sonia and presented the flowers with a flourish.

“That was amazing!”, Sonia said. “How’d he do that?!”

“He’s an Ice-Make wizard,” Marla said. “It’s a kind of magic that lets them make things out of ice.

“I never realized there was cool magic like that out there,” Sonia said in wonder.

“If you thought that was good, wait until I show you some of the other stuff!”, Marla replied.

Sonia and Marla continued to walk through the town, Marla occasionally stopping to show Sonia some kind of incredible magic. They passed a man moving sand through the air in mesmerizing patterns, a woman juggling balls of multicolored fire, two people who were sending beams of light up into the sky from their hands, and many other sights, until they reached a hill at the edge of the town. On top of the hill was a statue of a dragon. Marla led Sonia to the base of the statue and sat down.

“Do you know why we hold this festival, Sonia?”, she asked.

“Uhh…”, Sonia said. “Well… No, not really. I kinda thought it was just some big party or somethin’.”

Marla giggled. “Well, I suppose nowadays it is mostly just an excuse for people to celebrate and show off their magic,” she said. “But originally, it was intended as a way to honor the dragon who defended this town 100 years ago.”

Sonia looked up at the statue, and recognition flashed across her eyes. “...Mom?”, she said under her breath.

“What was that?”, Marla asked.

“Uhh… Nothin’!”, Sonia said. “This is a really cool statue, though!”

Marla stood up and walked next to Sonia, then turned and looked up at it, tilting her head. “It really is,” she said. “Whoever carved this was very skilled.” Then she turned to look at Sonia and laughed aloud.

“What’re you laughin’ at?”, Sonia asked somewhat defensively.

“It’s just that I remembered who this statue always reminds me of,” Marla replied.

“Who?”, Sonia said.

“You, of course!”, Marla said. “Because you’re tough and aggressive, but also really cool and fun to be around- just like I imagine a real live dragon would be!”

Sonia stared into Marla’s brown eyes for a few seconds, lost for words.

“You think I’m cool?”, she said after thinking for a moment, then mentally kicked herself. “You think I’m cool?” That was the least friggin’ romantic thing you’ve ever said!, she thought. You can still turn this around! Now’s your chance to completely sweep her off her feet! Kiss her, you idiot!

Sonia put her arms on Marla’s shoulder’s, then cautiously leaned toward her. Marla tilted her head, knowing exactly what Sonia was trying to do despite the awkwardness of the motion, and leaned in to accept the kiss.

Suddenly, Sonia was flung downward, slamming into the ground with enough force to crack the stones beneath her. Six people wearing steel breastplates and long red kilts appeared on all sides of the two girls.

“Stand back, lady!”, a voice from atop the dragon statue boomed. Sonia and Marla looked up to see a man in a red cape perched on top of the statue. The man leapt off, drifting slowly to the ground, and gestured forward with his hand, flinging his cape as he did. “I don’t want to hurt anyone I don’t have to!”

“Who the hell are you?”, Sonia spat, trying to stand but finding herself weighed down again.

“I’m…”, the man flung his cape back, pointing up into the sky and posing triumphantly. “Donoban the Dragon Hunter! And I’m looking for the dragon that lives around these parts!”

“Dragon Hunter?”, Marla asked.

“You got some kinda problem with dragons?”, Sonia added.

“Why, yes!”, Donoban shouted. “I do, in fact, have some kinda problem with dragons! I’ve devoted my life to hunting and killing those horrible monsters! Now tell me where I can find that dragon I saw you with in the woods earlier today!”

“Like hell I will!”, Sonia yelled back, sucking in a deep breath and transforming Donoban’s words, as well as the nearby sounds of nighttime wildlife, into spirals of sonic energy that flowed into her mouth. “Sonic Dragon’s Roar!!!”

The roar sent Donoban flying off his feet, and all of a sudden the weight lifted from Sonia and she was able to stand again. She grabbed Marla by the hand and yelled, “Come one! We gotta get out of here!”

“What did that guy mean when he said you were with a dragon earlier?”, Marla asked as they ran down the hill, Donoban’s goons following after them.

“Don’t go worryin’ about that right now!”, Sonia said. “I’ll explain everything later.”

As the two girls shoved through the crowded streets, they heard Donoban’s voice yelling from behind them.

“I’m not letting small fries like you get away from me that easily, or my name ain’t Donoban the Dragon Hunter!”, he roared. They looked up to see him flying through the air feetfirst above the crowd, his arms crossed. As he reached a spot a few feet behind them, he suddenly slammed to the ground with immense force, cracking the stones of the street and knocking the girls, Donoban’s goons, and several bystanders off their feet.

Sonia quickly jumped in front of Marla, spreading her arms out in a protective motion. “Find my mom!”, she yelled over her shoulder. “She’ll know what to do!”

“Why would your mom-” Marla started, then the realization dawned on her. “Ohhhh.” She scrambled to her feet and ran off into the crowd in search of Cacophon as most of the rest of the townsfolk fled in terror.

Sonia turned back to look at Donoban and grinned.

“What are you smiling about?”, Donoban asked, confused. “You should be terrified! I’m Donoban the Dragon Hunter, small fry!”

“Yeah, you do seem pretty tough,” Sonia said. Then her grin got even wider and brought her hands together, yelling, “But that just means I finally get to have a real fight! Sonic Dragon’s Thunderclap!!!”

The shockwave from the clap knocked Donoban’s goons back, but he stood his ground, the street beneath him cracking even further. Then he stepped forward and swung a fist straight above Sonia’s head with ridiculous speed. Just before connecting, the punch slowed down and his arm slammed downward with incredible force, hitting Sonia hard. He followed up with a punch to the gut, then stepped back as Sonia was slammed into the ground by a sudden increase in gravity.

“Now do you see what you’re up against?”, Donoban said smugly. “My Gravity Magic is unbeatable, or my name ain’t Donoban the Dragon Hunter!”

“Unbeatable, huh?”, Sonia said, gritting her teeth and slowly standing up despite the forces pulling her to the ground. Her dress was torn up, revealing her casual clothes underneath, and she had a cut on her forehead. “Well, I love a challenge!”

“That’s impossible!”, one of Donoban’s goons yelled.

“Nobody’s ever stood up from that attack!”, another one added. The goons stepped forward, but Donoban held his arm out to stop them.

“I’m not some small fry who’s gonna let a little girl beat him,” he said. “I’m Donoban the Dragon Hun-” As he started to say the word “Hunter”, Sonia’s fist collided with the side of his face.

“I get it, you’re Donoban the friggin’ Dragon Hunter!”, Sonia yelled. “And I’m not a ‘little girl’! I’m 21 years old!” She punched Donoban in the face again, then kneed him in the stomach.

Donoban and Sonia swung their heads forward at the same time, slamming their foreheads into each other and glaring directly into each other’s eyes. Donoban suddenly jerked his head back and increased his gravity, slamming it back down into Sonia’s head again and sending her staggering backward. Then he stepped forward, punching her in the chest over and over and slowly driving her backward.

“Give up, small fry!”, he yelled. “Donoban the Dragon Hunter doesn’t go down that easily!”

As his fist flew toward Sonia’s chest again, she caught it in her hand, then opened her other hand, gathering sonic energy in her palm. “Sonic Dragon’s Impact Palm!!!”, she shouted, slamming her open hand directly into Donoban’s chest, denting his breastplate and sending him skidding back across the street and crashing into a wall. Donoban jumped to his feet and kicked off the wall, suddenly flying towards Sonia with one fist outstretched. His fist collided with her face, then he swung his other fist down at her head at the same time as he returned his gravity to normal, knocking her to the ground.

“Time to finish this so I can move on to fighting the real dragon!”, Donoban said. He wrapped his arms around Sonia and decreased the gravity around them to almost nothing, then jumped, flying high up into the air. After reaching the apex of the jump, he shut off their gravity entirely, allowing them to float in the air for a small period of time.

“Sonic Dragon’s Impact Palm!”, Sonia yelled, slamming her palm forward, but Donoban drifted out of the way and grabbed the back of her head with both hands.

“Eat dirt, small fry,” he said. “Driver Impact!!!!”

He suddenly increased his and Sonia’s gravity to ten times the normal amount, sending them both dropping to the earth below. He threw Sonia down under him, slamming her into the ground and then punching down just as he landed on top of her, driving her down further into the ground and creating a massive crater beneath her. As he stood up and brushed himself off, Marla came running towards the scene of the fight with Cacophon running close behind her, still in human form.

“Sonia!”, Marla yelled as the two screeched to a halt.

“Oh no,” Cacophon said quietly. “No, no, no.”

Donoban turned to look at Marla and Cacophon. “Oh, hey there!”, he said. “I remember you, blondie, but the other lady is new. Hey, lady! Are you just another small fry?”

Cacophon yelled in anger, the yell turning into a roar as she changed into her dragon form, whipping her tail around and spreading her wings. Marla looked up at her in awe, and Donoban’s goons each took a few steps back.

“Uhh, boss?”, one goon said. “We should probably get out of here.”

“Yeah, we’re way out of our depth,” another one added.

“Out of our depth?”, Donoban said. “Out of our depth? I’m Donoban the Dragon Hunter! I’m never out of my depth, and I’m not giving up on my first chance to take down a real live dragon!”

“First chance… to take down a dragon?”, came a voice from the crater below Donoban. Sonia shakily stood up, half-coughing and half-laughing as she did. “You call yourself… Dragon Hunter… even though… you’ve never even fought a dragon?”

Marla and Cacophon breathed twin sighs of relief as Sonia stood up.

“How are you still standing?”, Donoban said, shocked. “I hit you with my ultimate attack Driver Impact! A small fry like you should be totally destroyed after that!”

“Let me let you in on a little secret,” Sonia said. “Causin’ a whole buncha destruction like that, makin’ a whole big crowd panic…” She paused to shove a huge handful of sonic energy into her mouth. “...It makes a whole lotta noise.” Tendrils of green energy began to swirl around her entire body, gathering at her hands and face. “And for an ultimate attack… that was pretty lightweight.”

Donoban took a couple steps back. “Wh- what kind of monster are you?”, he stammered.

“I ain’t a monster,” Sonia said, grinning. “I’m a Dragon Slayer! Sonic Dragon’s Roar!!!” She released a colossal blast of sonic energy from her mouth, tearing decorations off the houses nearby and sending Donoban’s goons flying off their feet. The ground beneath Donoban cracked as he weighed himself down to avoid being blown away, and he clutched his head due to the earsplitting sound of the wave of pure sonic energy that he was standing in the middle of.

Sonia shot straight forward at Donoban, opening her hands and spreading them apart. “Sonic Dragon’s…”, she started to yell as she brought her hands forward with intense force. “Impact Palms!!!!” She slammed both hands directly into his chest, then stepped back.

Donoban stood still for a moment, trembling from the force of the impact. “But you’re just… a small fry…”, he managed, then he collapsed facefirst to the ground with a resounding thud, his tattered cape flapping in the air for a second before flopping to the ground.

“L- let’s get outta here!”, one of his goons said, turning and running down the street. The other five quickly followed suit, sprinting away as fast as their legs could carry them.

Marla ran up to Sonia and wrapped her arms around her, hugging her tightly. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”, she said.

“‘Course I am,” Sonia said, shrugging off the tattered remnants of her dress and hugging her back. Just as the two girls released each other and stepped apart, Cacophon leaned down and wrapped her wings and tail around Sonia.

“I’m so sorry, Sonia,” she said. “I wasn’t there to protect you.”

“It’s fine, Mom,” Sonia replied. “That guy was a friggin’ pushover!”

As the mother and daughter talked, the townspeople and performers slowly crowded around, staring in amazement at Cacophon. Noticing them, the dragon quickly shifted into her human form.

“Uhh… Nothing to see here!”, she said extremely unconvincingly.

“I’d say ‘turns out the dragon this festival is held in celebration of was attending the festival disguised as a human and also some idiot wrecked a street trying to kill her adopted daughter’ qualifies as something to see,” came a creaky voice from behind the crowd. The people parted to make way for the owner of the voice- the oldest person in the town, Karov Tolushia. Karov hobbled through the crowd, leaning on his cane for support. “You know, I was there when it happened,” he reminisced. “And I’ll never forget what you did for us… Cacophon.”

“You got me,” Cacophon said, raising her hands into the air in faux-surrender. “I never told any of you, and forbid my daughter from telling you as well, because I was worried how you’d react to knowing that I’d been here this whole time. But I guess the secret’s out now.”

“It certainly is,” Marla said.

“Yeah, in the most friggin’ spectacular way possible,” Sonia added.

Karov hobbled up to Cacophon and held out his hand. “I won’t start bowing down and worshiping you as a god or anything,” he laughed. “I only started the Dragon’s Festival because I wanted to thank you somehow. I certainly didn’t know that all I had to do was just walk up to you and say it!”

“That’s a relief,” Cacophon said. “But there is one other reason I never-”

“Hey, who’s that guy?”, Sonia asked, interrupting her foster mother. Cacophon turned to see a man walking down the street and froze, a look of shock and terror on her face.

“No,” she whispered. “It can’t be him.”

The man continued walking, his dark blue mane of hair and ragged black robes billowing out behind him. On his face were blue tattoos, and his dark eyes stared straight forward at Cacophon, who took a step back.

“Mom?”, Sonia asked again, concerned. “Who is that guy?”

Cacophon grabbed Sonia and Marla by the arms, pulling them behind her, and then whispered one word as the man continued slowly walking down the street.

“Acnologia.”

#fairy tail #fairy tail oc #fairy tail fanfic #fairy tail fanfiction #ftsv #ftsv dragon hunters arc

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raventao · 2 years ago

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Alright, so this is the AU mashup that I had tried to write, based off of a few of @evilwriter37 's AUs that I had read.

I'm not sure it'll be any good. I haven't had much time to write since I had my daughter 3 years ago. (I love her, but she is a walking tornado and requires 100% of my time and energy, so writing has been put on the back burner for now.) And it was written on Google Docs on my phone, so if something looks funky or anything, I'm sorry.

Also, I have never been any good at writing violence of any sort, so the fight scene towards the end was mostly written by my wonderful husband; @aviolentsailor, I just kinda cleaned it up.

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So basicslly this is a VigCup red string of fate soulmate AU + Met as kids same (ish) age AU (Viggo being 16 - 23 throughout the story and Hiccup being 13 - 20) + Dragon God Hiccup AU.

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For the longest time Hiccup is just regarded as having exceptional luck. Throughout all of the dragon raids on Berk, he has never once actually been attacked or even accidentally injured. Dragons tended to either ignore him or go out of their way to not hurt him.

At first, Stoick is just glad he's okay when he watches Hiccup casually walk through the burning village and panicking vikings, not even batting an eye, putting out fires when he was 5. By the time he's 10, Stoick is pretty sure Odin himself is protecting his boy, and he's not complaining, Thor knows he needs the help. May the Gods bless whatever poor soul is his son's soulmate too, or he's sure they'll die of heart failure watching him run around with inventions that explode and ignoring dragon attacks as they happen. Or he will if they’re anything like his boy.

By 11, Hiccup wanders around on his own a lot more than Stoick would like, but no matter how many guards he has tail his son, he always manages to lose them and come back late into the evening. Stoick gives up. His boy will obviously find a way to do what he pleases, he might as well accept it. As long as he doesn't see it, maybe he won't worry as much? Nope. Doesn't work. Even Valka is lost when it comes to how to protect their boy from himself.

What Stoick doesn't know is that Hiccup has been sneaking off the island for years with the help of his Nightfury, becoming one with the sky and helping any dragons in need, or accepting offerings made to him in the name of the Dragon God. He hadn't told anyone who he was, hadn't wanted to scare them, especially when Berk was very clearly anti dragon. He wanted to help, but if they were fighting the dragons, then they weren't fighting the other tribes in the archipelago. Dragons hurting his people, he could do something against. Humans, in his weakened mortal state, he could not.

When he was 13 he had been out flying in the early morning mists, having had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. That was when he saw it. A ship. The flag was a dragon run through with a sword; Hunters. It was being bombarded by a horde of angry dragons. Looking closer, it appeared that the whole crew had been taken out. Whether they were all dead or just unconscious Hiccup didn't know, but something told him to check it out. Landing; he easily dismisses the attacking dragons with a wave of his hand.

"Go find some sea dragons to tow the ship back to Berk, Toothless. Around the back of the island. I'll tend to the crew." He says as he sets to work checking the pulse and injuries of each person he could find on the ship. He didn’t know why he was helping them. Honestly, they deserved this for all the dragons they had hurt in the past. But, then again, this was soothing that pit in his stomach, so this must have been what he had been worried about. The question then became; why? As far as he could tell it was a fairly ordinary Hunter ship, if not just a little undermanned.

There seemed to have only been 20 men on the ship, 7 of them had not survived, and Hiccup for some reason hoped they hadn't suffered too much. He dragged the remaining 13 onto the upper deck and set to work bandaging them up with whatever supplies he could find. One member in particular that caught his attention was the youngest member of the crew; he looked to be only a few years older than himself. He seemed to only have superficial wounds, only a few cuts and bruises. Gothi would know more. Perhaps he should have paid more attention when his father had sent him to learn from their healer? He knew enough basic first aid to help himself, but did he know enough to actually help these men?

None of them woke up on the trip back, as quick as it was. He took the time to himself to check the rest of the ship over and make sure that there weren’t any dragons onboard the ship. Just because he was helping them survive, didn’t mean he would let them hurt his children. Once to shore Hiccup leaves Toothless to defend the ship from the shadows as he takes off running back to the village. His father would be mad that he had been so far away, but hopefully the ship of injured men would take precedence. His father might be wary of them at first, but he knew that he was a generally good man. He wouldn’t let them die. Right? Right.

"Dad, there's an emergency!" He calls as he dashes into the great hall, approaching Stoick's throne. He knew there were other people in line to talk to his father that he had just run past, but hopefully they’d understand? "I was out on the far side of the island-" He barely gets that much out before Stoick cuts him off.

"Again? Hiccup, you know I don't like you adventuring so far out there alone! There are wild dragons out there, and wolves! You could get hurt and I'd never know!" Stoick scolds. It takes a lot for Hiccup not to roll his eyes at his father’s worries. He should know by now that no dragons are going to attack him. And if anything else were to try, be it wolf, wild boar, malcontent sheep or angry yak, Toothless would defend him. He was perfectly safe. But, he supposed his dad didn’t really know about Toothless so … it was a moot point.

"I know, but that'll have to wait, a ship of injured men washed up on the beach. I tried to help, but they need more." Hiccup huffs, crossing his arms as Stoick finally lets him talk. At this his father stands quickly and gathers a few of the men that were nearby to come with him to investigate.

"How many?" he asks curtly.

"From what I could see, 13 injured, 7 dead. It looks like their ship was attacked by dragons. There are scorch marks everywhere." Hiccup answers, conveniently leaving out the part about them being dragon hunters and that the attack would have been justified. Stoick sends one man to get more help from the village and another to help Gothi be ready when they return with the men. Some even go down to the docks, grabbing a few fishing boats to tow the ship around to the pier to make the trip easier.

Hiccup leads the party to the ship, climbing up onto the deck with ease, carefully motioning Toothless to stay hidden while everyone else is busy with the survivors. He knew as much already, but this was a lot of people, so it was better to err on the side of caution. One of the men seemed to be waking as Stoick stepped on board with a heavy thud and Hiccup was at his side in an instant. He really didn’t want this to turn into a fight and he was sure he was the least threatening person on the ship at the moment. A quiet “Take it easy.” being whispered under his breath to the newly conscious man.

"Ugh, what happened?" He mutters, voice laiden with a strange accent Hiccup had never heard. He opens his eyes slowly, though as soon as he sees Stoick and his men on his ship he reaches for his sword and pulls Hiccup to his chest, holding a blade to his throat. Hiccup wasn't fazed, he’d been threatened before, though Toothless had almost revealed himself if Hiccup hadn't caught it and ordered him to stay away with a pointed look in his direction. "Who are you? What are you doing on my ship?" he asks in panicked anger. Stoick tries to step closer, but the man presses the sword closer to Hiccup’s throat in turn. "Come any closer and the lad gets it." This was ridiculous. They didn’t have time to play paranoid, even if it was a perfectly natural reaction.

"Your ship washed up on our shores, you all looked injured from a dragon attack, so I brought help." Hiccup says easily. "You sustained losses, but most of the crew seems like they'll live, I'm not a healer so I can't say for sure though." That seems to get his attention and the man's grip loosens just enough for Hiccup to push the sword away and step back. It’s obvious he isn’t focusing on them anymore

"Viggo, where is my brother? Is he okay?" The man asks upon hearing and letting the fact that men had died in the attack sink in. Ignoring the pain from his own injuries he was surely feeling, the man got up and started looking around frantically at all the bodies of men on the deck.

"We'll find him, but you shouldn't be moving around." Stoick says, trying to push Hiccup away as soon as he's free. He simply side stepped his father's hand and moved to the other side of the stranger. He didn't hold the hostage situation against the man, he was scared and disoriented in a strange place he didn't know, and worried about his brother. Hiccup helps him sit back down, though it had been a struggle.

"What does he look like?" Stoick asks as the boats he'd sent around arrive and the other men set to work securing the tow lines so they can get the men to Gothi.

"He's the youngest member of the crew, 16, grey tunic, black hair, scar on his neck." The man describes shakily, taking deep breaths. “This wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous voyage, Grandfather will kill me if something’s happened to him.”

"Oh, he's fine.” Hiccup answers quickly, remembering the young man easily. “Pretty sure he just hit his head. I didn't see any blood on him when I was bandaging everyone up." Hiccup smiles, kicking his legs as he jumps up to sit on the ship's railing. "What's your name?" he asks, trying to get the man to calm down at least a little, focusing on other things would help, he hoped. Quietly, he directs Spitelout to where Viggo had been laid so he could bring him over to his brother.

"Ryker." Was all he got as the others set to work checking on the members of the crew. Viggo was brought forward to Ryker, who still inspected the boy himself. Hiccup didn’t mind, someone who knew him better might catch something he’d missed.

“What were you doing out there? I didn’t think Dragon Hunters came this far south.” Stoick asks once Ryker has calmed down enough to talk.

“We were out looking for his soulmate.” Ryker answers, nodding down to Viggo’s sleeping form. “It’s a tradition in our village that if your soulmate isn’t from the village that you go out to look for them. Viggo just turned 16 last month and planned out the expedition himself. We didn’t realize that his string led so far away though, or into such dangerous waters. We might just have to turn around and go back if it leads farther out still. It’s getting too dangerous for us to be out here.” he explains. Things went well after that. The news that they hadn’t been out hunting was a relief to Hiccup. Plus it turned out that the crew that had survived would be fine due to his quick action, Gothi even gave him a proud pat on the shoulder when she arrived on scene with Gobber and a whole lot of baskets of medicine and bandages.

The ship had been totaled, and their supplies were ransacked by the dragons, so the hunters would have to stay on Berk until it was fixed. Longer if they hadn't healed before that since several men had sustained serious injuries. Hiccup spent a lot of time in the great hall while the outsiders were recovering, watching them from the rafters and just observing them. Ryker had apparently been the captain, and from the bits and pieces he could catch, this had been the first time Viggo had been allowed to venture out past the main hunting grounds around their Village. There had been some sort of whisperings about the future chief being in danger too, but he couldn't quite discern who that was just yet. It had surprised him the first time Viggo had instantly spotted him up in the ceiling, but he supposed that maybe Viggo was just really perceptive? He hadn't stayed longer to find out. They were hunters. They killed his dragons for sport or for profit. He didn't need to hear any more talk about it. He had saved their lives on a whim, but that didn't mean he had to like them.

Stoick did though. His father was trying to negotiate some sort of treaty with the hunters, trying to find a way to protect his people from the dragon attacks that had begun growing in frequency. Hiccup disapproved, but he wasn't chief yet, so he couldn't say anything against a decision Stoick the Vast had already made. He thought he had been doing just fine protecting the village. Their losses in food had been manageable, and the last time anyone had died in an attack had been years ago. But apparently that wasn't good enough for his father. He left before things could be settled. He didn't want to hear how the hunters planned to trap and kill his dragons. And he especially didn't want to hear how Berk was going to help them.

He wanted to fly away on Toothless, clear his head and just enjoy his friend's company. He must have been more distracted by the conversation between Stoick and Ryker than he thought when Viggo managed to actually surprise him, pushing him out of the way and to the ground with a frantic call of his name just as Toothless emerged from the bushes at his bird call, ready to pounce and smother him in hello kisses. Viggo's sword was drawn and Hiccup felt his heart trying to beat out of his chest as he pushed himself to his feet to get between them.

"NO! Don't hurt him!" Hiccup shouts, throwing himself over Toothless' head to protect him.

"It's a dragon! A Nightfury! They're dangerous, Hiccup, get out of the way!" Viggo all but demands, and he has to wonder when exactly they became so familiar that Viggo thought he could order him around.

"Does he look like he's going to hurt me?" Hiccup glares as he straightens out a little, stepping back only just slightly, his hand still on his dragon's head. Toothless gives his hand a concerned nuzzle before curling his body behind him defensively, his tail raised in the air, ready to swoop Hiccup onto his back at the first sign of trouble. Viggo surveys them critically, obviously skeptical. It's fine. He understands.

"How are you controlling him like that?" Viggo asks, mystified, only dropping his sword a little. It’s pointed to the ground now, but he hasn’t put it back in its sheath, ready to come back up at a moment's notice. He doesn’t trust what he’s seeing, even if Hiccup does seem to believe what he’s saying. It’s still a wild dragon, no matter how you look at it.

"I'm not controlling him, we're friends." Hiccup answers with a roll of his eyes. "Put the sword away, he won't hurt you unless you hurt me." Viggo still doesn't believe him, but begrudgingly does as he's asked. He can tell that Hiccup does know this dragon better than he does, and that doesn't sit well with him. He thought this village was afraid of dragons, and yet, here was the chief's son running around playing with them? Was he the reason for all their attacks? Was his soulmate insane? As he watches the small viking boy climb up onto the Nightfury's back he concluded, yes. His bonded pair was, in fact, insane.

"It's a wild beast, it can't be your friend. It doesn’t understand what friendship even is. Now get off it before it decides to eat you as a snack." Viggo orders. Crazy or not, this boy was his, and he'd be damned if he stood by and watched him get killed. Hiccup just gives him a confused look before laughing at his order. Well, this wasn’t what he was used to. Back home everyone listened to his commands, sure, this wasn’t his home, but this still seemed like a reasonable order to his ears, and he was the elder of the two of them, he should be listened to for that alone!

"Toothless would never hurt me, let alone try to eat me." He declares jovially as he pats the side of the dragon's head and leans in to whisper something in its ear, still smiling wide. Before he can react, the dragon is running at him, he wants to bring his sword back up to defend himself, but he doesn't get the chance before he feels a scrawny hand on his arm and more strength than he was expecting as he's pulled onto the Nightfury's back behind Hiccup. The dragon warbles in a way that sounds disturbingly like a laugh and Hiccup himself does the same. "You'll want to hang on." He says. It's all the warning Viggo gets before the dragon takes to the sky, his sword forgotten, falling back to the ground as his arms wrap around Hiccup's small waist tightly. Was this boy actually eating anything? He felt like skin and bones. He’s liable to just fly away in this wind if he were to fall off this ridiculous flying lizard.

Viggo has never flown before, sailing, sure, but this was actually flying, not climbing all the way up to the top of the mast and hanging off the edge of the crowsnest to feel the wind in your face and see the horizon as you sail towards it. He had never even dreamed he would see a view as breathtaking as this. He was in the clouds for Thor's sake! The air was frigid and the wind felt sharper, but also, really good? He relaxed just a little as they leveled out. "So that's how you found us." He says reverently, taking in how far into the distance he can see from this height. "I knew we couldn't have drifted this far south in such a short amount of time." You could see miles out over the water, it wouldn't have been hard if Hiccup had been out here that morning to have spotted them. Hiccup stiffens a little in his hold but does give a small nod. "Did you tow us back with this dragon too?" Viggo asks. Maybe his soulmate is less crazy than he thought. Obviously he was still crazy enough to ride a dragon, but they did seem to have some sort of bond. That much was abundantly clear.

“No, I didn’t tow you back with Toothless, but I did have a few other dragons do it.” He answers. "I didn't have to save you though. Once I saw your flag I could have just left you there." Hiccup says, though, Viggo can tell he doesn't mean what he's saying. This boy is too kind to have left them there, floating and vulnerable to further attack. He’ll have to circle back to the other dragons bit later. For now, he had a hunch to follow up on.

"No, you didn't." Viggo agrees. "But, you did. You felt ... compelled to, didn't you?" The older teen asks carefully, a smirk worming its way onto his lips as Hiccup gives a hesitant nod. He obviously doesn’t know where this is going. He can't stop smiling, he really wants to tell him, so he holds up his left hand in front of the two of them. “Do you want to know my theory as to why?” Viggo asks, continuing before Hiccup can answer. "It’s because we're soulmates. The string you can't even see yet, told you to help us." Hiccup hadn't even considered that he might have a soulmate while he was in human form. And a dragon hunter to boot? Freyja had a sense of humor it seemed. He shakes his head.

"No. I saved you because human life is still sacred, even if you are murderers. You’re not my soulmate."

"We hunt dragons, not people." Viggo frowns. “But fine, don’t believe it, you’ll know the truth when you can see the string too.”

"Dragons are my people, so in my book, it’s still murder." Is all Hiccup says as he lands Toothless once more in the clearing where they had taken off from. Viggo gets off and looks around to pick his sword back up. He doesn’t need to look to know that Hiccup has taken back off, evidently done with the conversation. Viggo knows that if he says anything, the town would just think he was insane. No one would believe Hiccup had a pet dragon when the village was constantly being raided by them. Plus, then he would have to deal with the betrayal in the young man’s eyes every time he looked at him. He had just shared something amazing with him, it would be rude to out him like that. Even if it were for his own good. No, his secret was safe for now.

When Stoick and Ryker had learned that Hiccup and Viggo were soulmates, talk of the treaty became much easier. The question wasn’t what did the Hunters get out of the arrangement, but instead if they should send Hiccup back with Ryker and Viggo, or did Viggo stay on Berk. Hiccup didn't come home that night, he still didn’t, couldn’t believe that he had a soulmate, or that said soulmate would so readily hurt his children. He instead found comfort with his dragons in a nest of his own making on a small island past the tallest sea stacks south of Berk’s shores, somewhere he knew neither his father nor anyone else would find him. The God of Dragons, born mortal or not, and a Dragon Hunter? If not so absolutely repugnant, it would be laughable. Except that maybe Viggo was just a little nice to look at? And possibly, his voice was pleasant to hear as well. And okay, his mechanical knowledge when he'd popped into the forge one day was actually pretty impressive. No. No, he couldn't be falling for this human. Be it platonically or romantically. He was not going to let this man who would grow up to hunt his beautiful dragons, who probably already had judging from a few of those scars that littered his body, take up residence in his heart. Toothless snuggled in closer to his friend, purring quietly to help him relax and forget about his plight.

It wasn't the first time Hiccup had stayed out all night, likely wouldn't be the last either, but it was the first that it wasn't due to a fight between Hiccup and himself, and that was what worried Stoick. Perhaps he was worried about what having a soulmate from so far away would mean for him? Viggo had said that he'd told Hiccup about the string. Or maybe it had to do with the young man's occupation? Stoick knew his son liked dragons, more than he really should, given how the dragons regarded Berk. He always voiced his displeasure when any were killed during the raids, Valka smiling and backing him up, ever supportive of their son's whims. His family was going to be the death of him one of these days. He had tried asking Viggo to follow his string to find Hiccup, but he just said he couldn't. It sounded more like wouldn't to Stoick's ears. He knew from experience though that panicking and looking for Hiccup all night wasn’t going to work. If Hiccup didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be.

Viggo is the one to find him when he finally does return the next day around mid day, back in the same clearing as the day before. He's grilling some fish and sharing it with several small terrible terrors, curled comfortably into his precious Nightfury's side. Viggo still hasn’t fully decided if this boy is crazy or extremely brave, but either way, he belongs with him.

"How do you keep finding me?" Hiccup asks, not even turning to acknowledge that he knew Viggo was there.

"The string." Is all Viggo says as he shrugs and walks out of the shadows and over to the other side of the fire. Hiccup didn’t have to believe him that it was there, even though it was, so there was really no reason to start a fight over it. He would find out when he was old enough to see the string himself on his 16th birthday. "Why do I always find you with dragons?" He counters once he's comfortable. "Aren't they dangerous beasts that plague your village?" he asks, quoting Stoick’s own words to him.

"They have to." Hiccup answers with a frown, reaching out to pet one of the small dragons running around him. He looks distressed. "They wouldn't do it if their queen didn't demand so many offerings." That was interesting. How had Hiccup learned that?

"Kill the queen then?" It seemed simple to Viggo though. If he knew what the problem was, why not fix it?

"Because then Berk would be at war with the other tribes in the archipelago. I can handle the dragons, keep things to minimum bloodshed on both sides. I can't help with a war fought against men." Hiccup doesn't know why he's opening up to this hunter, just knows he's easy to talk to. He doesn't like this supposed string. As much as he didn’t want to believe in it, it was the only reason he could think of why things between them were shifting. Viggo stays silent, even after Hiccup offers him a fish, only nodding his thanks.

That admission was a bit strange, and more than a little confusing. How was he even supposed to respond to that? "Your father was worried when you didn't come home last night." He finally says after the fire has died down to embers. He observes as Hiccup only seems to nod.

"He always is. I was fine."

"Where were you? I tried following the string but it led off the island."

Hiccup smiles and scratches Toothless' chin. "With them." Viggo decides then and there to stay on Berk. He needed to protect this boy; if not from outside threats, than from himself.

By the time Hiccup is 16 and can see the string for himself he has come to at least enjoy Viggo's company when he isn't talking about hunting. And Viggo seems eager enough to avoid the subject for his sake, so it works out. He stares at the string often, wondering how such a small thing had such great sway over him. It isn't until he’s forced to take action against the Red Death, to defend Toothless from his father and his village, that he even considers telling Viggo the truth; that he was a God in human flesh. That even though he was in a weakened state due to how much of his power this body could handle flowing through it, that he still held sway over them. Could communicate with them and feel their distress. In the end, he still doesn't tell him.

He had had to save his life, again. This time from a raging titan wing Monstrous Nightmare that had seen the weapons trained on them as Stoick's ships approached the nest and had tried to kill the closest man to it. He had had to exert his own will onto the poor thing to get it to calm down. He tried petting its nose to ease its distress once it had come back to its senses. The waring emotions of fear of both man and its queen's wrath, anger that its nest was being attacked, and hurt in general for oh so many reasons in its eyes broke Hiccup's heart. That was when Viggo suspected that there was more to Hiccup than just scientific curiosity at finding ways to placate the dragons to stop their attacks and animal handling affection. But Hiccup is gone before he can get an answer, just a quiet; "Try not to get killed while I'm gone." Leaving his lips as Toothless and he fly straight for the giant dragon breathing down pillars of fire onto Stoick’s men and his fellow Berkians and the Hunters that had come to aid them.

Hiccup manages to win, though no one is quite sure how, but the look in Hiccup's eye as Viggo approaches is akin to a monumental loss. It doesn’t feel like a victory when he sees him standing there, his hand on the dragon's maw, crying, muttering old words he can't understand, but somehow, knows are an apology. Viggo pulls his soulmate into his chest and holds him tight. He doesn't know why this has his Hiccup so distraught, but he will console him nonetheless. He doesn't like seeing his destined other half so upset.

It doesn't come up again until four years later, when they are 20 and 23 respectively, with the incident with Drago. He has never seen Hiccup so angry as he is when he hears what the self proclaimed Dragon Master is doing. He almost thinks that he'll fly out on Toothless and go on some sort of crusade. He would help him if the young man ever bothered to ask.

Hiccup tries so hard to talk sense into Drago, tries to show him that he doesn't need to dominate and degrade the dragons. That they could be his friends. It doesn't work, and so he's left with no other choice. It was too close for comfort, Drago having the Alpha Bewilderbeast command Toothless to attack him. His dragon would never do such a thing, and he hated having to fight for his dragon’s mind to be his own once more. That was the moment he knew he needed to face this like a God, and not a human.

Viggo saw the change when Hiccup returned to Berk. His eyes were hard and unforgiving, shoulders squared back as he rides with purpose back home. He didn't know what the young man intended to do, but he clearly had a plan. He trusted his soulmate with his whole being. Dominating the Bewilderbeast with Toothless was not exactly what he was expecting. Though after so long of knowing Hiccup, perhaps it should have been. Hiccup had his hand on Toothless' back the whole time. It was clear that they were a team, and they were planning to win, no matter what. With the Bewilderbeast out of the way all that was left to deal with, was Drago himself, screaming at his beast as Hiccup walked up to him, face to face.

"You don't deserve to wear these scales, you never did." He says curtly, though he is too far away for anyone other than Viggo to hear him as he pulls the Nightfury pelt off of Drago's shoulders, forcing the man to kneel in front of him with a single hand on his right shoulder. No one knows where he acquired the strength, but it could very well just be that Drago is in shock at losing when victory seemed such a sure thing.

"You go around, touting that you are the master of dragons but you are nothing more than a bully who wears my children's skin as a trophy. You are master of nothing, and I will show you how little you truly know of my children. Your fate shall be theirs to decide." He says just before every dragon aside from Toothless, both in the air and on the ground charge the man. The bewilderbeast's ice that had littered the cliff edge shattering with a small flick of his wrist that had he not been watching, Viggo was sure he would have missed.

Hiccup steps back as his children flock Drago; a snafflefang rips his metal arm off and throws it off over the cliff into the crashing waves of the ocean down below. While recovering from the force of having his arm none-so-gently ripped out of his latch Drago brings his right hand up to hold the now exposed stump of his shoulder, glaring heatedly at Hiccup. It’s short lived though, a Zippleback coming up and grabbing him by the legs, both heads fighting over him, pulling them in opposite directions and sinking their teeth into his flesh for better grip, shaking vigorously. Two Terrible Terrors jump up to chomp on his hand as it dangles in front of their faces. The combined force of the Zipplebacks shaking him and the jaw strength of the Terrible Terrors results in both small dragons falling back to the ground and spitting out two severed fingers before going back in for another bite. The Zippleback seems to lose interest in Drago when one leg ends up coming off with a particularly harsh tug of war.

Viggo isn’t sure if Drago has actually stopped screaming anymore if he’s just gone deaf to the sounds with the sheer terror of what he’s witnessing. Hiccup is just standing there watching as each dragon goes in to rip off pieces of their enemy. There is flesh littering the ground everywhere he looks, blood is oozing from every injury and painting the man red from the bottom up. A Monstrous Nightmare reaches over the rabble with its long neck and takes Drago’s body, flying high into the air, shaking him wildly before dropping him back to the ground amongst the other dragons. If he hadn’t been dead yet, he was now. Viggo can clearly see Drago’s skull shattered, face caved in and nearly unrecognizable from between the mess of dragon feet. By the time the dragons are all done ripping him apart, there are pieces of the man scattered all over the cliff and town. Bones poking out of piles of flesh and skin hanging off buildings. The smell alone is enough to turn stomachs. His eyes have both been pecked from their sockets and the whole left side of his face has been shattered, the back of his skull caved in and leaking blood and brains.

It’s then that Viggo realizes that none of the dragons had actually eaten any of the man, every part that was missing could be found somewhere in the vicinity recognizable or not in its current state. No one says anything as Hiccup and Toothless walk away stone faced from the murder scene. Everyone else is confused and horrified that the dragons they had been defending the last few years could do such a thing. None of them had acted this way since before Hiccup had helped the village train them. Viggo had so many questions, first and foremost, if Hiccup was actually alright. For now though, he would give his partner space and help clean up. He knew that after something like this that Hiccup would need time to himself to calm down. It had been the same after he had been forced to kill the Red Death, the normally talkative young man not saying a word for almost three whole days after. He didn’t have three days this time. He needed to know what was going on, and he needed to make sure that Hiccup didn’t run off with Toothless into the night before he had a chance to speak with him.

"Hiccup, we need to talk." He says, hours later after the village is put mostly back together. He had followed his string all the way back to the clearing, though if he were being honest, he was sure he'd have found him here even if they hadn't had the string connecting them. Hiccup barely moves, his hand heavy on Toothless' neck. He doesn't answer, just stares ahead at the trees along the rim of the basin. "Hiccup." Viggo tries again, this time placing a hand on his shoulder, and sitting down next to him. "My dear, what happened back there? You weren't acting like yourself." His voice is soft, so as not to spook him. He doesn’t want Hiccup thinking he’s in trouble. He’s not. Viggo just wants to understand.

"I was. I just hadn't been that version of myself in quite some time. Even before this incarnation, it had been a great many years since I was angry enough to kill a man so brutally." Hiccup finally says quietly, taking a shaky breath. "He used Toothless against me. He used my dragons against my family, my village, against you; my soulmate. His crimes were beyond mortal forgiveness. He needed divine recompense."

Viggo didn't know what he meant, but he sensed no lies in Hiccup's words. "And you could do that? Channel divinity and dictate his punishment? Dismembered and butchered by the very dragons he'd dominated?"

"I haven't needed to use that much of my power since before I chose to live among my children. I think it was too much." He admits, finally turning to look at Viggo, blood dripping from his eyes, down his cheeks like tears. He looks scared, and Viggo is too. Everything makes so much more sense now when he lets Hiccup’s words sink in, but he doesn't have time to focus on any of that. His soulmate is falling apart. He needs help. He tries to reach out and wipe away the blood trails, but it keeps falling, no matter what he does.

"What can I do?" Viggo asks, clasping Hiccup's hands in his own, his own hands are still bloody and dirty, but that's not important right now.

"This body is failing Viggo. It was never made to handle more than a small fraction of my divinity at a time." He says softly, pulling one hand back to cup his beloved's cheek. "You surprised me, I didn't think Gods could have soulmates, especially ones who had hunted my children, but I'm still glad, here at the end, that you and I were fated to be."

"No. No, this isn't the end, we'll go get Gothi, you'll be okay!" He says frantically, getting to his feet and scooping Hiccup into his arms. "We can hop on Toothless and I could have us back to my village in a week's time. We can get you help!" Hiccup gives him a sullen look, but nods anyway. He'll let his human try to save him. He can feel in his bones that this body will give out by the end of the week, but if it would make Viggo feel better to take him to healers, he would go. Truth be told he didn't want to leave either. There was so much left he wanted to do, to experience. So many sunrises and sunsets to watch quietly with Viggo at his side. He would have to make the most of the last few he would get.

#vigcup #fanfiction #au #tw:blood #tw:gore #tw:dismemberment #Dragon God Hiccup au #soulmates au #red string of fate #same age au #httyd rtte #hiccup #viggo grimborn #stoick the vast #drago bludvist #toothless #I hope this is actually halfway decent #tw:hinted character death

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blackbat05 · 3 years ago

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Cowboy in shining armor

Rick Flag x Reader (University AU)

A/N: May or may not be manifesting my dreams of knowing a hot military guy…🤭 As always, enjoy and like/comment/reblog if you can! (I assumed that Rick’s from Texas hehe)

Genre: PG-13

Warnings: Stalking, creepy assholes (OC). Profanities, cursing. My horrible description of action sequences. Blood. Long ass fic.

(Potentially using the same gifs but hey, can you blame me for this fine looking man?)

***

Rick slumps against the chair, done with the book in front of him. If he had to look at another military strategy or memorize god knows how many tactics for his upcoming exam… he would throw himself out the exam room.

He checks his watch. It was half an hour before midnight. Rick wasn’t even studious. But with a scholarship on the line, he had to give himself a chance to grab it.

Staring around the library, he notices that he was one of the last few. Then, he sees you. He had seen you around often, but could never have a proper conversation. Like him, you were also grinding hard - making sure that you didn’t miss out a single detail on your notes.

However, one of his close friends had a a connection with you. To be exact, he never saw you leaving Cleo Cazo’s side whenever she wasn’t with them. And he didn’t know at that time what a feat it was, considering you had mostly kept to yourself for the past three years.

Who could blame you? You didn’t want to be involved in all the unnecessary drama. Your life was colorful enough. You had a loving family and a tight circle of friends whom you dared to call sisters from another mother. You were happy. Your goal was to graduate peacefully and find work as a social worker.

But for now, your energy was completely maxed out. Rick sees you shove your books and laptop into your bag, making your way out of the library. The campus was a safe place, but he just wanted to make sure. Anyways, it gave him excuse to stop studying for the day.

He didn’t want to be a creep, but today his sixth sense was particularly strong. Telling him to wait. So he does. Less than ten minutes in, he understands what his senses were trying to tell him.

A hooded figure was tailing you. Rick estimates that the stalker was a few inches shorter than him. Squinting his eyes, he sees the university logo splashed on the hoodie, with the words ‘Military Science Department’ printed in bold. Hell no, he thinks. Which bastard was crazy enough to do such a terrifying act in the middle of the night?

Looks like he was about to find out.

Keeping a respectable distance, he prays that you don’t walk into a dark alley. He does not want to intervene - Rick could imagine the barrage of questions if he had to. You live here? You were at the library too?

You were following me?

So he continues to follow.

Rick thanks his lucky stars that your student residence that you were staying at was well lit, with several students lounging at the benches. He sees you wave to a girl, belatedly realizing that it was Cleo who was waiting for you to come back. Another thing, another person to thank for.

He wanted to know you better but Rick had uncovered something dark. Rick wasn’t even an acquaintance of yours, so why did he care?

Rick decides that it is safe to leave you, tailing the stalker who apparently has the same thoughts as him.

He’s going to find out who the crazy motherfucker is. With a little help of course.

***

‘Cleo!’

‘Rick! You’re up early,’ Cleo waves, removing her headphones. Rick does a double take and sees that she’s holding a cage with her dearest pet rat Sebastian and her satchel slung over her shoulder.

‘Let me help you with that,’ he takes the cage gently, careful not to rattle it. ‘You got a minute to spare?’

‘Sure, I only need to me Professor Rawling at the Veterinary Department at ten.’ Cleo beckons him to sit on an empty bench. ‘What’s this about?’

He then tells Cleo about yesterday, from start to finish. Rick observes that her expression changes from curiosity to anger. Cleo breathes out heavily, hesitant to let out whatever’s on her mind.

‘Cleo,’ Rick doesn’t want to pry but he thinks about last night. ‘Is someone following her?’

The girl chews on her bottom lip before nodding. ‘She told me about this a week ago. Said she suspected that someone was following her but didn’t have enough evidence. I told her to tell the school but she wanted to wait it out. Something about getting evidence to nab this guy.’ Cleo pauses.

‘But?’

‘He has been tricky to catch,’ Cleo finishes. ‘Rick, I’m scared for her. I can only do so much by waiting for her outside. But if she gets…’ she trails off, unable to continue. Rick has heard enough. He doesn’t tell her his suspicions that the guy in question may be from his department.

Rick wants to protect you. But the question was how?

An idea pops into his head.

‘Hey Cleo…’

***

‘Sorry I’m late!’ You greeted your best friend before turning to the rest of the group. ‘Sorry, was held up in ethics class. Nice to meet you! Cleo has told me a lot about you guys.’

‘Only good things I hope,’ Robert Dubois gruffly greets you back, taking a swig of his beer.

When you had came back from the school gym, Cleo had somehow managed to convince you to meet her other group of friends that she knew during freshman year.

‘Please?’

‘You know how I feel about meeting new people Cleo.’

‘I promise they’re good people! If they annoy you, you don’t have to meet them anymore.’

Sebastian squeaks from his cage, as if supporting Cleo.

‘Fine!’

Okay. So there was some truth about your hesitance in meeting new people. But this was slightly different. One reason involving an attractive 6’1 blonde whose accent you just can’t seem to get out of your head.

Not that you have had a good conversation with him. Every time he was headed in your direction, you would conveniently excuse yourself much to Cleo’s confusion. This time would be different, Rick tells himself.

‘Hiya! Harleen Quinzel from Psycholgy Department!’ Another girl with a pale complexion reaches her hand out for you to shake. ‘But ya can call me Harley!’ She laughs out loud, heads from the other tables turning to their small group. Cleo gives you a significant look. Not like she didn’t warn you of the rather eccentric but intelligent girl.

You were then introduced to a rather reserved guy who was majoring in Design - Abner Krill and another classmate of Robert’s who couldn’t seem to stop bantering with him - Christopher Smith. Finally, you were introduced to a familiar face.

‘I believe we’ve met before,’ the charming Rick Flag extends a hand, wrapping his large ones around yours. ‘Just didn’t get a chance to talk to you.’

‘Oh yeah… sorry about that. Was a little busy.’

‘No worries,’ he pulls a chair out for you, inviting you to sit down. It was a simple gentlemanly action that should have meant nothing. But maybe the lack of gentlemen in your life was the cause of your heart being annoyingly loud.

Rick decides to start the conversation. ‘So… Cleo told me a bit about you before. You interested in working with correctional services?’

Usually, you hated small talk. Not now. You were thankful that Rick was taking the lead on this conversation and was so damn good at it too. As time passed, you found more things in common with the suave Texan who was trying to grab a scholarship to further his studies and serve his country with honor one day.

‘Well,’ you felt light from the alcohol. ‘I really do hope you get what you want Rick.’ He stares at your pink cheeks with eyes slightly unfocused. God, you were adorable.

However, he had more important things on his mind now. Like that creep who was a few tables away from them. Time to kick the plan into motion.

***

Waving goodbye to your new friends, you stumbled slightly with the help of Cleo.

‘Geez. Just because Rick was there you decided to let loose huh?’ Your friend teased you, causing to turn your red cheeks positively tomato.

‘I did not! I simply just-’ You lost your words, thinking about the past few hours with him. Rick was caring, affectionate and respectful. What’s not to like?

Hah, have you seen him with others? He’s like a god. Do you not see the tons of girls who are eyeing him. How could he possibly like someone ordinary like you? You who barely have friends!

‘Hello? Anyone in there?’ Cleo taps your head jokingly , chuckling as you swatted it away. ‘He’s out of my league Cleo,’ you tell her. ‘He’s Mr Popular and I’m Ms I-like-to-be-alone.’ The last few words had came out in a slur.

Before Cleo could say anything, you both could hear movement from behind. Trying her best not to jerk you around violently, Cleo turns, face to face with the bastard who’s been following you.

‘I should have know,’ a snarl that you never knew was possible came out from your friend. ‘Arthur Bishop. Your in Rick and Robert’s year.’

The figure steps out of the darkness, not acknowledging nor denying her statement. ‘Took you long enough.’ Truth was his bulky frame had intimidated Cleo, but she forced herself to remain calm.

‘Where are the rest?’ Cleo stays silent.

‘Thought golden boy would have taken her back home but guess he’s more stupid than I thought.’ His predatory gaze could burn a hole through your skull, so Cleo steps in between the two of you.

‘Why have you been following my friend?’

Arthur removes his hood, black orbs glittering dangerously. ‘Are you seriously asking me that?’ Cleo returns him a defiant stare.

‘I like - no, I love her. But I’m not stupid. I could see she only had eyes for that fucker,’ Arthur seethes as he thinks of Rick. ‘Simple. He took away the top spot from me so I’ll take her.’

‘What you’re doing is wrong.’ As if reasoning with the asshole would work. ‘Rick didn’t take the spot away from you! He earned it!’ Cleo knew what he was referring to - scores for the previous semesters that would determine which few would claim the prized scholarships.

‘Is it? IS IT!’ Arthur strides over before stumbling back a few feet from your well aimed kick to his insides. You had regained a bit of your balance, allowing you to know what the hell was going on.

‘So it was you. You followed me! You sick fuck!’ The brief moment of being sober was replaced by a spinning image of Arthur recovering from your kick.

‘Bitch! Might as well…’ The look in his eye told Cleo that the man was beyond reasoning. He had went full on insane. Lumbering over the two of you, he raises his hands, ready to strike Cleo first to take you out cold.

A hand easily grabs Arthur’s thick arms out of nowhere. ‘Now there lad! Didn’t your mom tell you it’s not nice to hit a lady?’ Robert appears from the shadows, tightening his grip on him. But Arthur wasn’t an easy individual.

Wrangling out of his grasp, Arthur aims for Robert’s face, only to have his wrist twisted. A piercing scream emitting from the former, he decides that it’s no good to bang his head on a wall he couldn’t break.

He sees you and Cleo at the side of all the action. Picking up an abandoned brick, he charges at your unsuspecting frame.

‘MOTHERFUCKER!’ Rick kicks him in the back, throwing Arthur onto the pavement. Rick was boiling mad. He wanted to smash his smug face onto the granite surface - hell he wanted to kill this guy for the fear that he gave you.

‘If you had something against me, grow some fucking balls and fight me instead,’ Rick is tapping onto his limited self-control not to rip this guy apart. He had to give it to Arthur though who was trying to stretch the limits of his patience. For a good reason.

Any acts of misdemeanor would automatically remove one’s chances from the scholarship.

Rick’s mind was churning with ideas. He wanted to make sure that the blasted asshole in front of him didn’t go anywhere within a meter near you. But this guy didn’t take no for an answer.

THUNK!

Arthur’s body crumpled like a piece of paper onto the floor. Rick sees a bat in mid air, held by none other than Harley.

‘Harley-’

‘That’s for hurting my new friend JACKASS!’ She emphasized as if Arthur’s unconscious form could listen to a word she said.

Robert steps up together with Christopher (where did he come from?), each taking Arthur’s arms. ‘Don’t worry Flag, we got it from here. Make sure he doesn’t hurt her.’

Rick nods, unable to move for a moment as he processes what just happened. Cleo snaps him out of his thoughts, handing you over to him.

‘I’ll follow them Rick, just to make sure that things don’t get to overboard. Help me look after her okay? I’ll see you back in our room in two hours.’ Cleo winks, following Harley who was still coming down from the highs of whacking someone out cold.

‘Relax mate. Go get her.’ Robert leaves with his parting words before dragging the dead weight like a bag of rice.

Then, it was just you and him out in the cold and dark night. Rick looks at the keys that Cleo had passed him.

‘Rick! You’re ok.’ You look at him, hands on his chest as you stated the obvious. He knew it was a well meaning gesture, but his mind betrayed him.

Why did you have to be this cute?

He chuckles, squatting down for you to get a piggyback. ‘Yeah darlin’ I’m alright. Now get up here, I’m taking you back.’ Rick figures that there was no way you could walk on your own with that much alcohol in your system.

‘You supposed to be my knight in shining armor or what?’ You giggle, unaware of his small smile.

‘Something like that I guess.’

***

Rick finds himself waiting outside while you take a warm shower. He can’t help it but his eyes scan the room that you and Cleo shared.

Like Cleo, your area gave a certain warmth and uniqueness that screamed… you.

At the corner of the room, you had an oak shelf that held various books of different genres. Non-fiction to fiction, thriller to romance. He sees figurines standing proudly on the shelf, each one special from the other. And he finally lays his eyes on a huge Patrick Star stuffed toy on your bed.

‘It helps me to sleep better at night.’ He turns around to see you dressed in pajamas. ‘If you were wondering what a twenty something year old woman was doing with a plush toy.’ You waited for a snarky reply that never came.

Rick raises his hands up in defense. ‘I was going to say it was cute actually. May I?’ He refers to Patrick who was staring at him. You nod.

He raises it up, giving a curious glance, before hugging it himself. ‘You’re right, it’s comforting.’

You move to the kitchen, realizing that in the midst of getting yourself to sober up, you have been a horrible host. You pass Rick a mug of water, pouring yourself one too.

‘Thank you Rick. It’s not every day that I have friends willing to stick themselves out for me.’

Friends. Rick’s throat was feeling dry, so he takes another sip of water again. Silence takes over the room again, apart from the kettle that was boiling water.

‘Glad we could help. You know, I’ve seen you a lot at the library lately,’ Rick carefully treaded the lines. To be honest, you saw him as well but decided to play the clueless card. ‘Yeah? You there as well?’

‘Yeah. Gotta study.’ Rick chuckles nervously. Here goes nothing, he thinks. ‘That’s why that prick was involved.’

You place your mug down, knowing where he was going with this. You were drunk earlier, but you weren’t dead to the world.

‘Rick, it’s not your fault.’ You held your breath, wondering if you should tell him. After all, he saved you from that slime ball. What could go wrong? At most, a rejection. Little did you know that Rick had heard the whole conversation before he slugged Arthur good.

Poor guy was just trying to find his words. To tell you how he felt.

‘I have something to tell you!’ You both went at the same time, breaking out into fits of laughter.

‘You first.’

‘No you go ahead.’

The liquid courage had boosted your confidence, eliminating any after thoughts or any ‘what ifs’.

‘I like you Rick. I really like you.’ There, you said it. Closing your eyes, you just hoped that it was a dream. For a good moment, you thought the silence meant the worst. Then, you felt the bed move.

Opening your eyes, you find yourself inches away from him. There were no traces of horror or anything that you thought ruined your chances, just pure joy. His comes closer to you, sending butterflies down to your stomach.

‘It sounds crazy but… I like you too.’

Yeap, you were positive you were dreaming and that there was alcohol still in your system.

‘I’m flattered Rick. But how could you possibly be attracted to someone like me?’

His suspicions are confirmed with your doubts. You probably saw him with the thousands of girls clamoring to get a view or snag a date with him. But what you didn’t know was that they weren’t real. Rick thinks about the time where bloody Christopher had forced him and Robert out on a triple date to the nearby neighborhood that was highly popular with students.

Rick didn’t forget how he had to sound out the girl’s (whose name he couldn’t even remember) obnoxious tone while pretending he was listening to what she had to say. Something about the icky feeling of dogs? Her words, not his.

As he stares out of the Italian restaurant, he sees you. From the looks of it, you had just finished a run and was dropping by the Korean chicken joint to grab dinner. Walking towards the university with the food in hand, he sees you almost being tackled by a large Labrador, laughing as the dog sniffs your bag desperately. Giving a few belly rubs to the lovable dog, you thanked the owner and continued on your way.

How he wished he was out there instead of being stuck here. Although you mostly kept to yourself, he could sense that you had a larger than life personality.

One that he needed.

‘Because you’re real.’ Rick tells you seriously. ‘Ever since I saw you with Cleo, I’ve always wanted to talk to you but for some reason, you seem to run away from me?’

You tried your best to keep a straight face. ‘Right… sorry Rick. I didn’t mean to but, you’re really popular and I don’t do well with crowds and… UGH!’ You went for your hair feeling frustrated only to be stopped by Rick.

‘Hey hey,’ he takes your hands into his. ‘Being popular? That means for shit in the real world. The thing is, I’m dead set on going to the military when I graduate. So I need someone who will be with me and accept me for who I am. They can’t do that.’

You look at his hand that had yet to leave yours. Somehow, it felt right.

‘Rick?’

‘Yeah?’ For the first time in his life, he was scared shitless. He was going to be a gentleman no matter the outcome but he really wanted you.

Leaning forward, you placed your lips on his before staring back into his green eyes, waiting for a reaction. He places his hand at the crook of your neck, bringing you to him again. This time, you sit on his lap, deepening the kiss.

Rick leans back slightly, back almost touching the bed-

‘Bloody hell!’

The two of you break away at the speed of light, seeing Cleo who was giddy with excitement, accompanied by Robert - covered in… blood?

‘Come on Rick! Professor wants to see us.’ Robert turns to you, ‘Don’t worry, it’s nothing like that.’

Rick mouths that he would see you tomorrow morning before being ushered out by a disapproving Robert. Before the door had closed, you could hear the two of them arguing.

‘Would you keep it in your pants Flag!’

‘Would you kindly shut up?’

***

The next morning, you hear from Cleo that dodgy Arthur Bishop was severely dealt with by the Military Science board. You didn’t know how they did their punishments but you didn’t care.

Robert and Christopher were surprisingly quiet the next evening when you met the group but Harley was willing to spill a few beans. Something about Robert threatening to castrate his insides so expertly that no one would hear a thing coming from the room he was held captive in. You realize that the well-built duo were nice, but could get ugly if they wanted too.

Making a mental note to never get on their bad side, you lean into Rick with his shoulders around you as he lazily nurses his bottle of beer.

‘You good baby?’

‘Yeah,’ you reassure him. ‘Thank you. This means a lot.’

He decides not to push further. Besides, this was a day to enjoy. He brings you closer to him, taking a swig from his bottle while listening to Robert and Christopher’s banter.

It was mildly hilarious how you were dead set on finishing your degree quietly - instead trouble had a knack for finding you. At first, you thought you could handle it alone and didn’t need anyone. But when things got a little out of control, the most unexpected group of friends came to your aid readily.

It wasn’t how you envisioned making friends but you didn’t mind at all.

And you certainly didn’t mind the fine cowboy that you snagged.

Your cowboy in shining armor.

[END]

***

A/N: This is the longest I ever written for any character so if you read till here, THANK YOU. This just went from butt kicking to rom com? My mind has combusted lol so do excuse me heh.

Tags: @loverhymeswith @torchbearerkyle @lacontroller1991 @weallhaveadestiny

#rick flag x reader fluff #rick flag x reader #rick flag fanfiction #the suicide squad #university au #joel kinnaman #rick flag

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eyayah-oya · 3 years ago

Text

Soar Through the Sky

Waxer/Boil plus Numa and a surprise OC (who apparently shares a name with a character in the Original Trilogy)

For @clonehavensotm

The field was filled with dazzling colors in every shade. Everywhere they looked, there were more banners with beautiful designs, bright tents selling wares and tantalizing food, and dazzling clothes draped over every being in attendance. Songs wove through the crowds from instruments played by old and young, while others danced and sang along. Children ran between the stalls, flags and ribbons and sashes trailing after them like colorful feathers or tails. Laughter, enthusiastic shouts to neighbors and friends, and above all else, the sound of the wind whistling across the field and through the tents filled the entire space with magic and comradery.

Waxer inhaled deeply as he took it all in. From the scent of the Rylothian spices to the colorful flags flapping in the wind to the way Numa danced eagerly between him and Boil, it all combined to give Waxer a feeling of magic. The Rylothian Summer Festival was in full swing, and Waxer could hardly believe that he had an opportunity to experience everything with his two favorite people.

“Nerra! Look!” Numa cried as she tugged on their hands. With a giggle and a high-pitched shriek of joy, she pulled Waxer and Boil into the crowds of the Festival.

Waxer couldn’t help but laugh in return, thoroughly delighted by everything he saw. Friends and acquaintances from Nabat shouted greetings to the trio, inviting them to their stalls or to participate in various games and dances. Numa’s enthusiasm made everything they did even better, and they were pulled along in her wake to enjoy the many delights of the Summer Festival. Waxer loved every second of it, and whenever he glanced over at his riduur, Boil had a smile softening his face.

For two clones who were created to die in a war, this kind of freedom and joy had never occurred to them. Every second they spent among the freed people of Ryloth, Waxer and Boil were reminded that they were free, too. Free to enjoy their lives. Free to live in peace and to build a life on any planet they wanted. And above all, they were free to build a family. To adopt Numa and start a farm with numerous pets. Waxer and Boil were free to be people, and the Twi’leks they had made their home with welcomed them warmly into their homes and lives. After the bigotry of the Core, living with people that recognized that clones were individuals with unique and separate personalities was the most exquisite feeling in the whole galaxy.

“Nerra! Nerra! Oola is here! Oola!” Numa pulled Waxer and Boil over to their neighbor’s stall, where the wizened old Twi’lek was selling beautiful scarves, dyed in the most stunning colors.

“Good day, Oola,” Boil said with a nod and smile. “I hope today has been profitable for you.”

Oola waved them behind the tables and returned their grins. “Business has been good, but the company is even better. You three look like you’ve enjoyed the festivities. Did Numa take you dancing?”

“Yes, I did!” Numa proudly declared. She gave a little twirl, her red and purple dress swirling around her ankles as she did. “Nerra Waxer even danced with Nerra Boil!”

“Did they now?” Oola grinned. “Did they enjoy the dance?” “Yes! At least, I think so. Nerra Boil wouldn’t stop staring at Nerra Waxer, but I didn’t see anything wrong with Nerra Waxer’s face. They both had goopy smiles, too.”

Waxer couldn’t help but laugh as he leaned against Boil. “Goopy smiles” was a pretty accurate description of the way he looked at his riduur and vice versa.

Oola picked Numa up and placed her on their lap. “That is because your Nerra love each other very much and are very happy on this Festival Day. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Numa thought about it for a second before she nodded. “It is.” Then she leaned in and whispered loudly to Oola. “Can we give my nerra scarves? I think they need scarves.”

With a loud, boisterous laugh, Oola stood, their joints creaking with age as they settled Numa on their hip. “I think that is an excellent idea, dear one. Why don’t you pick one out for both and we’ll give it to them?”

Waxer leaned against Boil, and his riduur automatically adjusted his stance to brace their combined weight easily. He watched their neighbor and their little girl walk around the tables of Oola’s booth, stopping every once in a while, to pick up a scarf for inspection.

There wasn’t a single word in any language he knew that came close to describing what Waxer felt as he watched his little girl with their neighbor, happy and bright in her enthusiasm, while Boil kept an arm wrapped around his waist. Shereshoy—a lust for life.

“Nerra! Look! This one matches your armor!” Numa held up a golden scarf the exact same shade as the markings on their armor and had tiny designs that reminded Waxer of Cody’s symbol. Oola walks over and Numa puts the scarf up next to Boil’s face and then Waxer’s, a tiny frown of concentration on her face. It’s absolutely adorable. Numa shakes her head. “No, not this one. Oola, Oola, what about that one?”

Waxer reached out and plucked the scarf from Numa’s hand. “We’ll get this one for the General. I’m sure he’d like it,” he said with a wink.

Numa giggled and Waxer felt Boil melt against him.

“I think I have the perfect scarves for your Nerra,” Oola said and tapped Numa on the nose. “Come little one. They’re in the back along with a few of my sweet cakes.”

The pure joy and excitement on Numa’s face brought a rumbling laugh from deep within Waxer’s chest. Whatever he had done in his short life to deserve this happiness, he didn’t know, but he was going to embrace every second of it with all his heart. “Come on, Boil. Let’s go steal some of Oola’s cakes. I know they’re your weakness.”

Mumbled grumbles and threats did nothing to hide the same happiness and peace within Boil’s eyes and Waxer couldn’t help but tug him into a kiss right there in the middle of Oola’s stall. Warmth curled in his heart as Waxer carded his fingers through Boil’s thick curls. Boil tugged him even closer by the waist and smirked against his lips.

“I thought you wanted cake?” he said between kisses.

“This is better,” Waxer responded and he pulled back enough to press a soft peck to the tip of Boil’s nose. “Numa will be fine for a few minutes, and Oola will keep her occupied and mostly out of trouble.”

“You do realize this is Numa, you’re talking about? She’s probably going to drop cake into a crate full of scarves.”

Waxer snickered and gave his riduur one final, lingering kiss before he laced their fingers together. “You’re not wrong. Besides, we need to get to the open field for her surprise.”

“Nerra!” Numa called from behind the curtain and Boil snorted.

“Duty calls,” he said with a fond smile.

Behind the curtain, Oola and Numa were standing side by side, both with their hands behind their backs and wide grins on their faces.

“Nerra, Oola was right! These scarves are the most perfectest scarves!” Numa enthused with a bounce. “But you have to close your eyes!”

“But what if we trip and fall?” Waxer teased. “We have to keep our eyes open!”

Numa shook her head ferociously. “No, you have to! You won’t fall, I promise!”

“Alright Numa,” Boil cut in before Waxer could do something like swoon and fake fall. “We trust you.” He closed his eyes and Waxer followed suit, refraining from peeking even a little, though he was desperately curious about the scarves Numa had discovered.

He felt Numa’s small hands wrap a cool, silken scarf around his neck and then press their foreheads together in a soft keldabe. Waxer almost melted on the spot, just like he did every time she did that. He squeezed Boil’s hand instead, knowing that his riduur would understand completely. A gentle squeeze was the only response he got before Numa pulled back and presumably gave Boil the same treatment.

Outside the tents, the crowds shouted and laughed and sang with the easy happiness and freedom that had fallen over Ryloth after the war had ended. The Twi’lek people had been hit hard by the Separatists and were almost constantly being invaded by greedy generals and hoards of droids. Once the war was over, the 212th volunteered to help push the last of the invaders out of the system, and Waxer and Boil had eagerly reunited with Numa. Their lives were all so much better now, and not just for the two clones. The Summer Festival was a celebration of the lives that were spared and the rich history that would keep living on in the hearts of the people.

After a couple more seconds, Waxer felt Numa and Oola back away and he couldn’t help the way he shifted impatiently, despite Boil’s mocking snort. He was curious to see these scarves that Numa had picked out for them.

“Okay, open your eyes!” Numa cried and clapped her hands.

Waxer opened them immediately and looked down. The scarf was painted like the sunsets on Ryloth, with vivid reds and oranges and pinks. On the edge, a small homestead with three figures stood watching the sunset. Looking closer, Waxer realized that the two taller figures were wearing clone armor and the little one had the exact same shade of skin as Numa. Tears pricked Waxer’s eyes as he gently ran his fingers over the warm design, his heart beating with the strength of his love for his family.

With a soft sniffle, he swallowed back the tears and turned to look at Boil’s scarf. It was indigo and deep blue, stars painted across the expanse of the material along with the words, written in Mando’a, “Aliit ori’shya taldin”. Family is more than blood. It was a fitting scarf for Boil.

Letting go of Boil’s hand, Waxer practically leapt forward to pull both Oola and Numa into his arms in a tight hug. He pressed a soft kiss to Numa’s forehead. Two seconds later, he felt Boil wrap them in a hug as well.

“Thank you both so much,” Waxer managed to say through the tightness of his throat. “They’re beautiful.”

“You’re my Nerra,” Numa said simply as though that explained everything. Maybe it did.

Boil didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. They could all see how much he appreciated the scarf and his family.

“Oh, get off,” Oola laughed. They patted Waxer’s cheek and he reluctantly let go, sliding Numa from their arms and into his own. “You boys better get going if you want to make it in time.”

“Make what in time?” Numa asked curiously.

“Well,” Boil began as he put an arm around Waxer’s waist and placed a hand on Numa’s back. “We decided to make you a surprise and we have to go now before it’s too late.”

“A surprise! Like a cake?!” Numa exclaimed. She wriggled excitedly, her eyes shining brightly up at both Waxer and Boil.

“Not a cake,” Waxer laughed. “Though we will definitely have cake later. If you want to see the surprise, we have to go now, though.”

“Yes. Go now, Nerra! We should go now!”

Boil snorted, but stepped back to lead the way through the crowds. They were pulled into dances as they walked past various performers and families, and the trio stopped to share a few moments with each one. They passed a stall selling the most delicious smelling fruit dessert that Waxer had to stop and get one for each of them, much to Boil’s and Numa’s obvious delight. Boil paused and bought a little trinket for Numa from a family that sold beautiful blown glass creatures. Several people commented on the scarves the two clones were wearing, and they gladly pointed them in the direction of Oola’s stall before continuing on through the crowd.

Finally, they arrived at the enormous open field, set aside for the main event of the Summer Festival. There were hundreds of people across the waving, golden grass, lounging on blankets or rough-housing in the dirt or inspecting various poles and fabrics.

Waxer shifted Numa slightly so he could get a good look at her face. Her eyes darted around the field, taking in all the bright colors. It was a stunning sight, though Waxer wasn’t sure she quite understood what her surprise was yet.

“This way,” Boil grunted and led the way to the far side of the field where he’d stashed their surprise earlier that day. A blanket was spread out on the ground alongside a picnic basket and a neat bundle of cloth and sticks. Numa’s heavily pregnant aunt was nearby, watching over their things for them while they enjoyed the stalls and wares sold during the Festival.

“Nerra Boil? What is that?” Numa asked curiously.

“That, ad’ika, is your surprise.”

Numa wiggled until Waxer put her down on the ground and she immediately darted to the bundle, looking it over with great interest. It was obvious that she wasn’t quite sure what it was, nor why it was so special it had to be a surprise, and she was looking at Waxer and Boil expectantly.

“Numa,” Waxer began, “do you remember what happens here during the afternoon?”

With an adorable tilt to her head, Numa answered, “A sack race?”

“They’ll have a few of those later,” Boil agreed. “But that’s not what Waxer is talking about. Do you remember when we came here a few weeks ago? And your blanket was blown away by the wind?”

She perked up. “I do! Nerra Waxer chased it all the way home!”

“That’s right,” Waxer smiled. “Today is going to be just as windy. And during the Festival, everyone brings a kite to fly in the wind.”

If possible, Numa’s eyes grew rounder, darting between Waxer and the bundle on the blanket. “Is that a—a kite?” she asked, her feet dancing in place while she clapped. “Is my surprise a kite?” “You’re really smart,” Boil said. “Waxer and I decided to make a kite, just for you. It’s got a tail, too, to help it fly better in the wind. We figured you’d like to join in when everyone else flies their kites this afternoon.”

“I get my own kite!” Numa whooped. She fell to her knees and started tugging at the string holding it all together, and Waxer quickly knelt down next to her.

“Here, we need to be careful with the string otherwise the kite might get lost in the wind. We need to be gentle.” He showed her how to put the kite together and the bits of fabric they’d tied to the tail of the kite, each with one of their names painted on it. The kite itself was 212th gold, Numa’s favorite color.

Together, Waxer and Boil showed Numa how to launch the kite into the air and how to control the kite to keep it from falling back down to the earth. They let her practice with the light breeze and Waxer gladly worked off all of the extra calories by giving her a running launch. Numa was enthralled by the kite, thoroughly excited and eager to try it out in a real wind.

Eventually, the Senator for Ryloth stood on the makeshift podium and gave a short speech to begin the final activity of the Festival. The wind picked up then, whipping around the stage and through the crowd. The background noise of excited shouts filled the entire field while hundreds of kites were tossed into the air. The wind caught them and coaxed each colorful kite higher.

It was a sea of color, a sight more beautiful than nearly anything Waxer had ever seen. Tails and flags flapped gaily in time with the ebbs and flows of song and music. Numa watched it all with an eagerness that filled Waxer’s heart up with joy. She giggled and bounced, watching as some people made their kites divebomb their friends, while others coaxed theirs higher into the sky.

Boil knelt down beside Numa and put an arm around her shoulders. “Do you want to join them?” he asked.

Numa eagerly nodded and together, their little family carried their kite into an open spot and sent it soaring high into the sky, right beside the rest of the kites. Numa’s enthusiastic shouts of joy and peals of laughter only added to the experience.

Waxer watched their colors dance in the wind and leaned against Boil, tucking his head below his riduur’s chin. “We made it,” he whispered softly.

“Made what?” Boil hummed.

“We wanted a family with Numa. We wanted a life of peace after the war. We wanted all of this. And now we have it. We made it, Boil.”

Boil turned and captured Waxer’s lips in an enthusiastic kiss. It was the kind of kiss shared after a battle to celebrate the fact that their loved ones were alive. It was the kind of kiss that spoke of fulfilled dreams and secret wishes. The kind that never failed to take Waxer’s breath away, no matter how many of those kisses he received in his lifetime. Each one felt like the first, sparking with explosions under his skin and burning through his heart in an all-consuming inferno. Waxer could live forever in those kisses and be perfectly content.

The need for air eventually pulled them apart, just far enough for their noses to nudge each other and their foreheads to press solidly together.

“We made it,” Boil breathed, tone reverent and exuberant.

And really, what more could they ask for?

#clone/clone #waxer/boil #numa #lieutenant waxer #clone trooper waxer #clone trooper boil #boxer #waxyboil #post war au #tcw #star wars: the clone wars #clone haven sotm #cloneshipping

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fandomscombine · 4 years ago

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TUA SERIES PART 4: Diego

The Hargreeves Kerfuffle Part 4:Diego

The Hargreeves siblings x Hargreeves!Reader (Familial Relationship)

BG: The Reader is Number Eight. It follows how you fit into the structure of Season 1 and the family dynamic of the siblings.

This part follows y/n blowing off some steam with Diego being a supportive brother.

You don’t have to read every single part as each focuses on the reader’s relationship with each of her sibings.

But of course to get most of the story, read the whole thing. Besides why would you want to miss out on Hargreeves Siblings content?

A/n: sorry if this took long to update, I lost the master copy of the fic document- well technically, I was and am typing this on an auto-save document but it had glich somehow and when I searched and open the file it was only the first 2 parts. It took a while to find back the most updated document.

WC:1028

DISCLAIMER: I DON’T OWN THE TUA SERIES. THIS IS JUST BY A FAN WOULD REALLY ENJOYED THE SERIES AND WAS INSPIRED TO WRITE.

*ALSO NOT PROOFREAD

>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<

>>THE HARGREEVES KERFUFFLE SERIES MASTERLIST<<

READ: [PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

Your blood was boiling.

How dare Luther, your own brother accuse you of killing your own father.

Sure, your childhood wasn’t exactly the healthiest and emotionally suitable for a child but in a weird way your father had shape and trained the 7 of you to be at least somewhat in control of your powers.

Raising superpowered children is no small task.

Lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t realized how far from the academy you had walked.

You stared at the city Harborview, imaging how your life would be different if you hadn’t had these powers.

Peace. That’s what you think you would have. A sense of peace, living a normal daily life- get up, go to work, hang out with friends, sleep in a nice cosy apartment and repeat. No powers.

The final words of Sir Reginald replays in your mind.

‘The end is near, get the others ……and save…..the…..tttiiiimmm’

The end is near, get the others and save the tim- whatever or whoever tim is.

You assumed that it meant his time was up and had wanted the family back together. You had done just that but what had that got you? Indictment for one. A family reunion consisting of 5 emotionally incompetent adults and one trapped in a kid’s body.

Leaning across the railing you shouted. ‘Cosplaying as batman at aged 6 was cute but as a grown ass adult lurking in the shadows is definitely a red flag!’

A chuckle sounded from the corner. ‘Noted m’mam. Will not do it again’ said a deep voice.

To an untrained ear, no sounds of footsteps could be heard.

You, however can as do your siblings. All of who can also identify who is coming based on the sound- each ever have a slight variation, a unique touch.

Luther has the heaviest, loudest footsteps out of everyone.

Allison- quiet and delicate.

Diego has a sense of purpose in his walk- no doubt like the secret agent and superheroes he had always wanted to be.

Klaus is a bit unpredictable; it is either too fast and energetic or soft and slow pace.

Five. He cheats, mostly blipping in and out of places. But if need be, he usually takes leaps or huge steps, always ready to teleport out of any situation in midstep.

Ben. The master of stealth. He always manages to take the least steps, the most effective route between hiding points.

Vanya though without training is actually very good. At times you wouldn’t even notice her near as proven in her countless times secretly watching the rest of you training.

‘I doubt that.’ Turning to face the new arrival. ‘You are the literally embodiment of Vigilante Hero Complex.’

The city lights illuminating his face.

‘Ah! Case in point!’ You pointed at his outfit. ‘You’re even wearing a spandex suit, Diego!’

Diego shook his head, brushing off your teasing aside. He was happy to at least help bring a smile onto your face- even if it was at his expense.

‘How you feeling?’ Even though you all were the same age, Diego can’t deny that the numbering hadn’t had an older sibling protectiveness to come over him- especially when Luther was being a total dick. If only he was in charge, he thought.

‘Better… better now that you’re here.’ You admitted, bothering your brother never gets old. ‘Thanks by the way-for the cheer up.’

You both stayed in comfortable silence it was not until 20 mins later did Diego break it by apologising.

‘Sorry for what?’

He didn’t reply instead he lifted something out of his pocket. It shone against the deep blue waves.

You gasped. ‘Dad’s monocle.’

‘I know Luther believes you took it.’ He let out an exasperated sigh. ‘I’m sorry. I should’ve have confessed instead you took blame for me….’

Wrapping his fist around it he continued, voice getting harsher. ‘I …I just couldn’t you know? After all he did to us? How he treated us? We were just kids!’

He clutched it tighter shattering the glass. ‘He was gone. This was the most valuable things he had- never let it out of his sight….so I thought that this….that by taking this, it would be the closest thing in ever hurting him.’

‘Oh Diego…’ You didn’t know how to comfort someone who is going through the same scenario, a same situation that you yourself need help on. ‘Dad is gone and…yes he wasn’t the most caring father. But the past is in the past, the only thing we can do now to move forward. Don’t let that define us. Strive to do better.’

‘We tried that once remember? And where did it get us?’ He countered.

‘Better than if we were to have stayed.’ You rebutted. ‘C’mon Diegs. Think about mom. Think about how she constantly reminds us to put our best foot forward, no matter what life throws at us..’

Diego’s face softens, he was always a momma’s boy.

Closing his eyes, he mutters an okay. Then he tosses the bloody cracked monocle into the water. ‘Now, why don’t we go stuff our faces full of donuts.’ You offered. ‘I can handle your typical brooding self but the 2 of us sulking? No can do, what we need is to eat our feelings.’

‘Giddy’s it is.’ Replied Diego, offering you his arm.

‘So I assume you parked 2 blocks from here?’

His eyes went wide. ‘How’d you-‘

‘PPPPlease!’ Rolling your eyes. ‘I might have subconsciously wander to this part of town, but I was conscious about a car not so subtly tailing me for 6 blocks.’

‘So you knew I was watching you from the very beginning.’

‘YUPPPP’ Popping the p. ‘At first I wasn’t sure who- nice car by the way, new?

‘A month ago.’

‘Anyway is wasn’t until you started following on foot til I knew.’

Elaborating when you saw his confused look. ‘You walk as if you’re the protagonist in an action film.’

‘I do not!’ He said defensively.

‘DO too!- Thanks.’ Settling down onto the passenger seat as Diego closed the door.

The debate lasted until you reach Giddy’s or so what was left of the store.

‘WHAT THE-‘

END OF PART 4

READ: [PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

Taglist [All]: @gruffle1

Taglist [TUA]:@herecomesthesun1969 @alabaster1223 @ultraviolet-m @winterierwriter @lordofthunderthr @grapesauze @xbarrjallenx @white-wolf-buckaroo @yoheyyosup @infinitystones2018 @94seun @buckynatlarry @thegirlwholikestomanythings @just-some-stars @97yrm @2cuteforyourlies @e-bendy @criminallyhamilton @aqarath @change-the-world-someday @sambucky8 @spankin-soda @big-galaxy-chaos @neenieweenie @okimreadynow @weird-pale-blonde-person @thebloodrobin @vicassa@tkdcnlettuce @alexander-hamilhoe

Feel free to tell me to you want to be tagged for the series or for all/any other of my fics.

Would love to hear your opinion on the series so far too!

-Posting this a 2nd time, cause the 1st Tumblr error-ed out and deleted it.

also a bit of self plug here, i have a writing challenge going on and I’d love for you to join!

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unmaskedagain · 5 years ago

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Marinette: Adventures at Camp-Halfblood

When Marinette arrived at camp at just six-years-old dressed in pink with pigtails in her hair and was shoved into Hermes cabin until she was claimed; most of the other campers hedged their bets on who her godly parent was. She was a sweet girl with a cheerful deposition that could easily brighten anyone’s day. She also favored sketching and most artistic endeavors so half the campers thought Apollo was her father.

However, Marinette had an almost unnatural beauty to her that was clear from even her young age; with silky blue-ish black hair and large blue eyes that seemed to twinkle. There was a sheer adorableness to her that caused even the toughest of campers to coo. This caused some of the campers to assume Aphrodite was her mother.

A few bet on Demeter as Marinette loved to bake. Some of Athena as how well organized and tactile the girl could be.

Unfortunately, it would take a few years before anyone would get confirmation. And for bets to be paid out.

As Marinette got older, she easily became the most well-liked camper; mostly because of the sweetest and kindest girl at camp. She was always there to help a friend in need, always there for someone to talk to. Hephaestus cabin liked how creative she was with her designs and always liked to offer an artistic flair to their own. While she didn’t rush towards battle as some campers did, it was clear Marinette still knew what to do with a sword. She was also creative and detailed when it came to planning attacks and defense which got her approval of the Athena cabin.

Ares Cabin liked that she didn’t back down. Ever. The first time Dionysus got her name wrong was legendary; it was also the last time.

“You, mary-Anne!” The god of wine called. They were in the lunch hall “Announce to the rugrats, capture the flag is about to begin.”

“Marinette,” The seven-year-old corrected politely with a smile on her face. “Marlene,” Dionysus waved her off.

Marinette just stared at the chubby god, her face emotionless. The hall seemed to grow a bit colder. Silence slowly took hold the campers as they watched a seven-year-old in a blue

polka-dotted sundress and pink ribbons in her hair stare down a god with unfeeling eyes as she assessed her opponent as if looking for a weakness.

For the first time in a long time, Dionysus felt sweat trickle down the back of his neck as a small hint of fear started to turn in his stomach. And, to make matters worse, as if sensing this, his fear, a small smile appeared on the girl’s lovely face.

“My name is Marinette,” Was all she said and turned around as skipped away.

Dionysus nodded slowly, despite the girl not even looking. He swallowed a bit more of his coke and with a pop, he was gone, vanished. No one would see him at camp for two weeks. When he came back, from then on out, whenever he ran into the little girl again, he calls her some variation of “You girl,” “Girly” or even a “Lassie” once. It was clear that while the god was too proud to call her or anyone of the campers by their actual names, he would never mess up hers again.

That day would forever remain in the hearts of the campers forever. When Marinette was eleven, she found out who her godly parent was.

She had been walking with Annabeth to the training yard, near the entrance of the camp, when they heard roars and a scream. Annabeth turned pale but a determined look appeared in her eyes. Marinette patted the blonde’s shoulder comfortingly. Though they were the same age, the blonde had arrived at camp a year after Marinette, and not under the best of circumstances. Grover,

Luka, Thalia, and Annabeth had been being chased by the most dangerous monsters from the underworld. Thalia hadn’t made it. It had been four years since.

Each girl pulled out their swords, braced their shields, and raced towards the entrance of the camp. What they saw made both of them nearly throw up their breakfasts.

Charles Beckendorf, son of Hephaestus, Laurel Victor, daughter of Nike, and Malcolm

Pace, son of Athena were racing back to camp; different monsters hot on their tails. The three

had been given a mission to retrieve Hephaestus’ stolen Helm. In this case, the helm was just a fancy word for solid gold, expertly carved, war helmet.

Laurel, easily the fastest girl at camp, was heavily injured and struggled with a wounded Malcolm to get to the safety of the camp borders while fending off the monsters. Charles, wearing his father’s helmet, fought valiantly and desperately to give his friends time to escape.

“Go get help,” Marinette ordered the other girl. “Anyone you can. Find medics from Apollo cabin. Hurry.”

It was a credit Annabeth that she didn’t hesitate to follow the direction as she raced off to seek allies.

Marinette, on the other hand, raced the other way; out of the camp, out of the safety of the boundary line, straight to battle. She’d seen the manticore sneaking up on Charles and knew that between the Cyclopes and hellhounds swarming him, he was a dead man. Marinette rushed passed Laurel and Malcolm and was just in time as the manticore's tail moved to strike Charles, it hit Marinette’s shield.

Fury filled her blue eyes as she began to fight: armor-less and with only a shield in one hand, a sword in the other, and a dagger on her hip, side by side with the son of Hephaestus. “Go!” She yelled at the other two demigods as she slashed at a Cyclops. As the monsters swarmed her and Charles, Marinette noted with a small bit of relief, that in the midst of the chaos of battle and her shoving her sword through the eye of a Cyclops with horrible breath, she spotted that Laurel and Malcolm crossing over the barrier.

However, the relief died when a fearsome roar shook the very foundations of the camp and both campers to very cores.

The creature had no legs and crawled on the ground like a snake. It was over 200 hundred feet long and had scales that glistened like armor. The monster moved like lightening and when Marinette met its eyes, for a moment she froze in sheer terror, “Drakon,” She whispered. That when she knew one or both of them were going to die. Only a child of Ares even had a remote chance of defeating it.

“Shit,” Charles said as he killed a hellhound. Most of the monsters had been defeated. Only a few cyclopes and hellhounds remained. “Run back to camp!” He ordered. “Hurry! I’ll hold it off.”

Marinette didn’t have to even look at the black boy to know he wouldn’t stand a chance. Charles looked like he barely had enough strength left to lift his sword one more time. He was bleeding all over. He had so many injuries and wound Marinette wondered how he managed to keep himself upright.

With a swing of her sword, Marinette finished off the last Cyclops. “Not this time,” She told the older boy. “You’re hurt really bad.” She told him. “It’ll kill you in seconds and get me before I even make it back. I’ll hold him off. I’m strong enough. I can do it.”

“No!” Charles had started a tirade of protests. He wasn’t about to let anyone die for him, let alone a little kid who looked like she would be right at home if Disney suddenly named her one of their princesses. A girl who was nearly as battered, bruised, and bloody as he was.

But Marinette wasn’t listening, because as soon as the moment of fear passed, she found herself charging at the Drakon, her sword ready.

She barely dodged the monster’s first swipe at her. Her heart pounding her chest, Marinette slashes at the beast only to have her sword bounce off its scales, with not even a scratch on the Drakon. Acid dripped from its mouth burning holes into Marinette’s red shield.

Marinette didn’t know how long she had been fighting; or rather dodging and helplessly poking a giant snake with a sword. Her arm had nearly been ripped off as she narrowly jumps out of the way of its teeth.

Then a cry of pain sounded in her ear, and a sharp heartbreaking cry of someone screaming, “CHARLES!”

Once more rage overtook the small bluenette and raced head on to Drakon, it’s jaws wide open to attack or possibly just eat the demigod. With a roar, Marinette launched her shield at its face. When the Drakon turned its head to bat it away, Marinette jumped forward as high as she could and rammed her sword into the Drakon’s eyes.

The drakon reared back, letting out a terrifying shriek, sword still in its eyes as Marinette dangled from it; refusing to let go. With one hand free, Marinette pulled out her and stabbed it into the Drakon’s other eye. There was another howl of from the monster. It swung back and

forth, but Marinette kept stabbing at its eyes. Its acid burning her arms and legs and whatever it managed to hit.

Then, Marinette didn’t know what happened, but suddenly she was falling. Or rather the Drakon was crashing. It landed in a giant heap that caused the ground to shake. It withered on the ground, back and forth. Marinette who still clung to her sword, stood up on shaky legs, pulled

out her sword and then stabbed it again and then again as deep as it could go. Until the beast stop shaking until its last breath left its body.

Marinette quickly pulled her sword free and turned to help her fellow demi-god Charles, only to find other campers had beat her to it. With a happy, exhausted smile, Marinette fell to her knees. The pain finally hitting her as the adrenaline wore off. Her sword slipped from her hand. She barely noticed most of the campers who turned up to help were staring at her with amazement in

their eyes. A few, who Marinette recognized as sons and daughter of Apollo, rushed towards with medical supplies.

There was a loud, some fire in the corner of her eyes, murmurs from the crowd. There was a fiery symbol above her head, already a fading. Then Chiron (When had he arrived, Marinette wondered. She didn’t notice him a few seconds ago) stepped forward.

“It is determined,” The centaur announced. “Hail, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, daughter of War.” That was when everything went dark for Marinette as she slipped into unconsciousness.

The next few days after that were pretty much a wash. Marinette was mostly in and out of sleep as the worst of her injuries were healed. Only when she got out of the healer’s cabin and headed towards her bunk in the Hermes’ cabin did she finally recall that she had been claimed.

Mostly because Luke had given her an easy smile, and said, “Clarisse and her goons got your stuff already, oh fearsome Drakon slayer.” Then he pointed down another path. “Your cabin’s that way with the rest of Big Red’s kids.”

And that was that. Luke gave her a pitying look and wondered how the girl most people thought was made of sugar cookies and sunshine ended up in the cabin known for the meanest kids.

Dressed in a baby blue camp shirt, her hair still in her signature pigtails, Marinette held her held high as she walked to her new home. The young girl had never… appreciated the aesthetics of Cabin 5 whenever she had to walk by it. The kids there weren’t the friendliest, some either ignored her or picked on her so she did her best to avoid it.

Cabin 5, Ares cabin, Marinette’s cabin was painted with an angry red color. The roof was covered barbed wire, and there was a stuffed boar's head centered above the doorway. It always used to seem to stare at anyone who walked by. The grass in front of the cabin was rich and green but Marinette made sure to stay on the path as she recalled Annabeth warning her about the landmines that were buried in front of cabin 5. Only Ares kids knew where they hid.

Rock music blared loudly from the cabin; high enough to hurt someone’s ears.

Marinette braced herself as she headed up the stone steps of the cabin. With one last look around, she pushed opened the door and walked inside.

The sound of fighting and arguing and roars of the laughter hit on in the face. Two guys were wrestling in the middle of the room was which look liked a boxing ring. A few kids were cheering them on. Some kids, her siblings, were dancing in a makeshift mosh pit to the music. There were rock posters covering the wall. A giant TV that seemed to be playing whatever violent sport was on and kids were screaming at it. Weapons were thrown about everywhere. The only bright side was, it looked like Cabin 5 had its own kitchen. Everything was chaos.

Clarisse, she spotted, was arm-wrestling a boy twice her size; Sherman Yang, Marinette remembered, the mean girl second in command. While his twin brother Mark watched, declaring he had winners.

This is it, Marinette thought, this is my life now.

She took a deep breath and went over to the head of the Cabin; Clarisse.

“Hey! I got next!” Mark quickly said again.

“Good for you,” Marinette sniped at him

Suddenly Clarisse slammed Sherman’s hand down and stood up victorious, “Yes, sucker! Who wants some?”

Mark moved to speak but Marinette interrupted him, “Before your next… showdown? Where can I find my room, please?”

“Can it, squirt! I’m on a roll,” Clarisse said with a quick glance at her. Then the bigger girl stopped and did a double-take. “Well, well, well; if it is in Drakon-slayer herself.” She announced or rather yelled loudly. Causing heads to turn and the music to die down. “If I hadn’t seen the take-down myself, I’d never guessed that a dainty little thing like yourself would belong here.” She said the word dainty like it was dirty.

�� Marinette lifted an eyebrow, “I get by. Larger opponents have a habit of overestimating their own abilities against us dainty little things. They tend to go down fast.”

Clarisse just snorted, “We need to work on your trash talk.” She slapped Marinette on the back. “It’ll be good to have another girl around. To busy many boys stinking up the place.”

That was when Marinette noticed that in the entire room, including herself, there were only five, maybe six girls, all various ages and races, in comparison to upwards of twenty guys. But it was clear that they were all related. They all had the same smug, mean expressions; the same authentic large builds, most even favored the goldish red-eye color that sort of looked like flames.

“Am I the shortest one here?” Marinette shouted angrily. “What the hell! No!”

Sherman smirked, “Not the shortest. Billie just turned seven. And you’re like a foot taller than him… For now.”

Marinette glared and took a step forward. Only to be pulled back by Clarisse, “Beat him up later, I’ll show you your room.”

Turned out that there was another good thing about living in the Ares cabin. Since there were so few girls, she got her own room. It was a nicely sized, just a bit bigger than her room in Paris. The walls were black and grey. There was a surprisingly comfy queen-sized bed. But other than that there was nothing. Most of her stuff was already there waiting for her. Her things were a mix of pink, purples, and frills that stood out against the backdrop.

“We don’t usually get girly-girls in our cabin,” Clarisse shrugged. “A week ago, I’d have said you wouldn’t have last a day. Then you single-handedly took down a drakon; now I’m wondering if I should be worried about my spot as head of the cabin.”

Marinette laughed, “No interest in running this cabin; too many boys.”

“You’ll get used to having brothers,” Clarisse leaned against the door. “Or at least to the smells. Sisters are easier. We stick together. We’re already thought of as weaker, and more delicate by the morons. Show ‘em who’s boss every chance you get.”

Marinette nodded.

“Just keep the fighting in the house,” Clarisse warned. “Outside this cabin; we’re a unit. Us versus everyone else. And we play to win.”

Living in Cabin 5 wasn’t as bad as Marinette thought. She had to quickly make some ‘touch this and I’ll annihilate you and dance your corpse’ rules; most of which was to keep her brothers out of her room. An unspoken rule was quickly established that if Marinette was wearing something really pretty; don’t with her mess with her; she played dirty. Ryan and Hunter, two of her more troublesome brothers, quickly learned when after fighting each in a mud pit decided to ruin Marinette’s new designed sunflower dress by throwing a few mud pies at her. The fury in the small girl’s eyes sent shivers through the rest of the cabin. The next day Ryan and Hunter woke up to their skin bright pink and glittering covering their rooms.

Her brother Troy, a blond with red eyes, learned next. Marinette's new silk top ended up having to be thrown away. Troy woke up glued to the ceiling with hair dyed purple and his eyebrows gone.

Then there was Chase and a cashmere sweater. Chase ended up tied in a room playing Disney princess movies on reruns for hours and hours. He didn’t speak for a week after.

Kendall and Marinette’s new purse that somehow ended up on the roof of the Apollo cabin covered in mud and who knows what else. All of the stuff she had in it was missing and had to be located. He woke up in a giant seaweed wrap strapped to a spinning board. Marinette and three of his other sisters had knives in their hands. One of his sister, Megan, started to spin the board as Marinette threw the first knife, it landed next to his head.

The last one was Blaise, the strongest, toughest, meanest of all Ares’ sons. He thought it was a good idea to throw Marinette in the lake, while she was wearing her newest outfit designed. She had spent weeks working on it. He laughed as she stared daggers at him, soaking wet. Blaise didn’t show up at the cabin that night.

When he finally did, it was the next morning. He was covered in dirt, and he pointed an accusing finger at Marinette, “She buried me alive!”

That was when Clarisse decided it was time to sit Marinette down, “That’s not we fight.”

Marinette crossed her arms, “You’re right. That’s how I go to war.” She huffed. “You told me to show them who’s boss.”

“Yeah; not traumatize them!”

“I feel like you’re splitting hairs.”

Most of her siblings left her alone after that.

Marinette had also claimed dominion over the rarely used kitchen. She baked lots of treats that seemed to get even more of her rowdier brothers to let her be.

On the downside, she did find herself against Annabeth in capture the flag again and again. The two girls, still best friends, slowly found themselves enjoying the rivalry.

Marinette met her father a few months later.

During the Christmas break, Marinette found herself visiting the camp while her parents went to China to visit a sick friend of her mother’s. She had known for weeks that she’d be spending her break there and had created the perfect dress for the winter solstice. It was a mix of silvers and golds that went just below her knees and had a lace bodice. It was her first time getting to go Olympus during the winter solstice. She only ever went to the summer one since she only spent her summers at camp.

She stood happily in her dress as she waited for Ares cabin to depart to meet the rest of the campers to leave to go to the city.

“Let’s be real here,” Marinette smiled sweetly to her brothers who eyed her wearily. “Ruin my dress and I’ll kill you all. As far as I’m concerned you’re all to blame, the one who does the crime will just get it the worst. Clear? Good.”

Clarisse rolled her eyes. Trust her tough as nails brother to be scared to death of their smallest sister.

Olympus was beautiful. It was a mix of white and with grand pillars and statues everywhere. All the campers had gotten mixed up as most as found their friends on the way there. Marinette stood with Annabeth and Will, from the Apollo cabin.

The gods were quick to greet their kids, at least the ones that had been claimed. The ones who hadn’t been greet cheerfully by a bubbly Hermes, like they were his own. The kids who knew their godly parents went to go meet them. For the first time, Marinette looked around eagerly for her own godly parent for the first time.

She found her siblings and glided through the crowd, passed Athena, where she lost Annabeth, passed Apollo, where she lost will, and nearly passed Aphrodite when a hand reached out and grabbed hers.

Marinette looked up at the attached hand and found Aphrodite looking at her with a smile on her face.

“I believe you are one of mine, darling,” The goddess said. “And don’t you look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

The bluenette blushed, “Actually, my lady, I belong in another cabin.”

“Oh?” Aphrodite eyed the girl as she was confused. “Who’s cabin is that?” All the beautiful campers were hers.

“Mine!” A voice growled. Ares dressed in all black leather and wore black sunglasses, seemed to glare through them. “Let my girl go, babe! We’ll talk later.”

The goddess of love eyed the beautiful Asian girl and the gruff warrior she knew and her mind just couldn’t compute. “She’s yours? Are you sure?” She asked but let the girl of the little girl’s hand.

Ares snorted. “She killed a Drakon and she’s only eleven. She’s mine.”

Marinette smiled softly at the goddess before rushing over to her brothers and sisters; listening gladly as Ares relayed some of his most recent battle stories. Unaware of the rather ridiculous image is made. A pretty little girl dressed in a silver and gold Christmas dress, surrounded by a leather-wearing, mean-faced, giant warrior that no question if someone told them they were a biker gang.

Then it was Ares turned to listen as one by one his kids relayed the latest up and goings at camp; mostly their victories. A lot had stories about the pranks they pulled. When asked who the toughest and scariest person in their cabin was; there was the usual Clarisse, Sherman, Ryan, and Blaise but Ares was surprised to hear Marinette’s name drop a few times from his sons’ mouths.

“Powderpuff,” Ares growled towards his daughter who blinked wide innocent eyes at him. “I hear you’re tough. How do you fight dressed like all of that!” He waved at her outfit.

Marinette crossed her arms and glared at her dad, “I don’t how. About as easy as you do dressed as Danny from Grease.”

Silence.

Ares and Marinette glared at each other; each willingly the other to break.

“Shit,” Clarisse whispered a curse.

Sherman leaned toward his twin Mark, “Who are we betting on?”

Mark shrugged, “I don’t know. Dad’s a god. But Marinette’s mean. Could go either way.”

Ares chuckled and walked over to tower over his youngest daughter, “I ain’t your brothers. I don’t scare easily; no fear in my eyes.” He ruffled her hair. “And I don’t like frills.” Ares pulls a bit at lacy ribbons attached to his daughter’s sleeve. Unfortunately, no matter how well designed, with his strength the material ripped. Loud enough for everyone to hear.

There gasps from her siblings.

Marinette’s eyes slowly went from her sibling to her father.

“Can you kill a god?” Blaise asked Clarisse.

Kendall shrugged, “Marinette’s about to find out.”

A cold smirk appeared on Marinette’s face, “Fear! Why do people say that? In movies, when up against the bad guy? Say there not afraid to die? As if the matters. What does you being afraid have to do with anything?”

Ares eyes his daughter curiously. He didn’t get the reaction he knew he’d have gotten if he did that to any of his other kids. For now, he let the matter drop as he decided to relay another of his war stories. Unaware of the blue eyes that would disappear from the room.

“Hey!” Ares shouted, drawing everyone’s attention. “Where’s my bike! Someone took my bike.”

Clarisse looked around, ready to raise hell with her father and her siblings when she noticed, someone was missing. She took her a second to realize what happened. “Shit,” She whispered.

“What?” Sherman asked.

“Marinette’s missing,” Clarisse hissed.

“So?” The Asian boy shrugged, and then the words hit him. “…No. She wouldn’t.”

Blaise, who overheard their conversation, shook his head, “She would. Marinette really liked that dress.”

“Who’d do what?” Ares growled. “You know who took my bike?”

Clarisse sighed, hopefully, her dad didn’t kill her youngest sister, “I’ll give ya a hint; she really likes frills and you really pissed her off tonight.”

Ares took off his glasses, and pits of fire looked out at his children, his eyes narrowed. “Marinette stole my bike?”

Kendall nodded, “If you get to her quick enough; you might be able to stop her from painting it pink.”

“…She wouldn’t,” The god of war said darkly. There were multiple snorts from his children.

Clarisse pinched her nose, “Does anyone know how long she’s been gone. Anything more than an hour, and that bike’s history. There will be care bears from threatening.”

No one answered.

Ares growled and with a pop, he was gone.

He showed back up a couple of hours later; still no bike and look positively furious. The other gods, particularly Hephaestus, looked beyond amused. Word had spread that the Princess of Ares’ cabin, Ares’ own daughter, had stolen his bike and ran off. All because of a ripped ribbon on her dress.

Aphrodite nodded approvingly; it was a rather stunning dress, she’d of raised Tartarus herself over it.

When the campers returned to camp, the Ares’ cabin members came to find Marinette waiting on the bike in the middle of the boxing ring.

“Who wants to go for a ride?”

Everyone did. They all cheered as one by one, or two by two, they rode the bike around camp.

The next morning at breakfast, Marinette was eating with Annabeth with the door flew opened and Ares stomped in. He glared at his daughter, “BIKE. NOW!”

Marinette placed down her toast, “I want a new dress first.” She glared at her dad.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” He towered over her.

Marinette blinked, not a drop of fear in her, “It’s not. Until I get a replacement dress for the one you ruined. You don’t get your bike. And you’ll never find it without me.”

“Marinette!” Ares roared.

“DAD!” Marinette yelled back.

The campers could only watch as the strangest scene to ever hit Camp half-blood played out in front of them.

“I! You! GRR!” Ares howled before stumped away.

It took a week and three more public confrontations for Ares to finally give in and ask Aphrodite to get his daughter a dress.

“Here, princess!” he shoved it at her.

Marinette nodded, left the lunch hall, and returned with the bike; same as it ever was, apart from the red bow ribbons attached to it.

Ares scoffed at the sighted, nodded at his daughter and was gone. He’d return two days later to hang out with his kids in their cabin. His bike parked out in front; a single red ribbon still tied a handlebar.

From then on the campers knew one thing…

Never mess with the Princess of War.

Almost two years later, after thirteen-year-old Marinette would receive a pair of earrings and new destiny, all of Paris would learn the same lesson.

#ml fic #ml salt #marinette dupen chang #Marinette deserves better #Percy Jackon and the Olympians #ares #clarisse la rue

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trashfor-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

My Senpai | 2

Ushijima x Reader

Summary: You’re Goshiki Tsutomu’s older doting sister, second year at Shiratorizawa and captain of the girl’s track & field team. At your brother’s first practice you sneak in to support him and end up meeting the impressive force that is his captain. Warnings: There’s a curse word or two.

[1] | [2] | [3] | [4] | [5]

If you were honest with yourself, you weren’t really sure why you let it happen, but you did, and now you had to deal with it. Shiratorizawa was hosting the first track meet of the season, inviting five other schools to compete, and you were excited for it. Goshiki had mentioned to Tendo that your first meet was happening and apparently the whole volleyball team was coming to watch you.

The stands were pretty full, mostly Shiratorizawa students and members of all the different track and field clubs who weren’t competing today, but there for support. There were loud cheers when the Shiratorizawa girls and boys competing today stepped onto the field together. Not everyone was participating today for various reasons. It was mostly third years, half the second years, and a few select first years debuting this meet.

You stood with the boy’s team captain and waved at your fellow student body. A series of loud squeals erupted and chants of “Go-shi-ki sen-pai win!” sounded from the stands, making you laugh. You had your own small fan club and they were easy to spot, waving hand made signs with your name and phrases like “Fly Senpai” and “Dream Captain” written on them. A blush rose to your cheeks as you spotted your brother and the boys from the volleyball team sitting with your fan club. Tendo and your brother had even taken one of their signs and started waving it around together with large grins on their faces. It made you happy to see your sibling enjoying himself.

Turning to the boy’s captain, you held out your hand to him and shook his, wishing him and the boys good luck. Separating, you led the girls in doing stretches before wrapping up with a speech about how they should only think about doing their best and if they just gave it 100% of themselves, then there wouldn’t be any regrets at the end of the day. The whistle blew, signaling the start of events.

Your first event was the 100 meter dash. Heading over to the start, you did some last minute leg stretches before bouncing up and down to loosen up your limbs. Some of the girls from the opposing schools openly stared at you and you smiled at them, despite their judgmental gazes.

You wore maroon, high waisted bun huggers and the classic white school jersey with maroon accenting, the symbol for captain on your chest above your heart and the nation’s flag was sewn on your jersey as well, showing you were a part of the national team. Your long hair was neatly tied into a singular Dutch braid with a maroon ribbon.

“I saw in a magazine that she runs for the national team dressed like that too. How indecent!” a few girls whispered down the line from you.

Turning your head, you grinned and they gasped, realizing you heard them. “In fact I do. If I could compete nude, I would. Clothes just slow you down,” you spoke matter of factly. “Too bad our society operates on outdated patriarchal principles intended to suppress women, right?” Giving them a friendly wink, you set yourself up and waited for the signal.

Ready. Set. Go.

You were off in a heart beat and suddenly it was over as you crossed the finish line first. 12.45 seconds. Breathing deeply, you walked it off. You could go faster, but that was plenty to beat them this run. There were only four schools at this meet so according the schedule you had one more go at improving that time. You shook hands with the runners and headed onto the field where one of your team managers handed you a cool towel and water bottle, escorting you across the field to the other side of the track for the 110 meter hurdles.

13.07 seconds. You came in first, but again that was another time you wanted to improve your next go around. You spent the next 30 minutes relaxing and waiting on your turn for your final 100 meter dash, cheering on your teammates and congratulating them on their wins, encouraging them on their losses. It used to feel heavy to you, helping your teammates shoulder their losses, but now it was almost second hand to you.

Your 100 meter dash came and went quickly. You clocked a healthy 11.58 seconds, but you still weren’t satisfied. Your goal for all of your events was the world record and then to crush it. Walking around a bit, you wrapped a jacket around your waist and made your way over to your fan club to distract yourself, personally thanking the small troupe for coming out to support you as always. You chatted with them a bit before moving on to your brother and his teammates.

“Sister, you’re doing great! I’ve never seen you run so fast before,” Tsutomu exclaimed.

“(Y/N) I’m going to join your fan club!” Tendo shouted as he stood proudly holding up the sign he had. Semi grabbed him and pulled him back down to sit, clearly annoyed.

“We’ve never been to a track meet before so your brother and the fan club have been explaining things to us,” Ohira spoke, offering a smile. The other boys gave their compliments and you chatted with them all, sure to give each of them attention. Ushijima was the last to speak to you.

“Are you competing in any other events?” he asked.

“I have to run hurdles one more time then I have two events left.”

“Is it normal to compete in so many categories?”

You laughed lightly and shook your head. “Not really. Most will just focus on one event. I normally run two or three for high school level meets. For the national team I focus on two, but this is a small meet with a low number of competitors so I’m lucky and get to do what I want today.”

“Excuse me. Captain, it’s your turn to vault,” came one of the third year managers.

“Thanks, I’ll be right there.” Turning to Ushijima, you smiled at him. “I’ve got to fly now.”

“Goshiki, what does your sister mean by fly?” you could hear the volleyball captain ask before you were out of earshot.

You tied the tail of your braid up into a knot at the back of your head and secured it before dusting up your hands and testing out your grip on your pole. The schools agreed on 10 feet to be the starting height. Your standard run at pole vault allowed you to clear 12.5 feet easy so this would be child’s play for a little while. Taking a deep breath, you held up your pole and bent your knees slightly before taking off with full commitment. With a thrust and leap of faith you waited for that moment before letting go of your pole, arching yourself gracefully over the bar. A smile spread across your lips as you felt yourself airborne, suspended in air. It was a peaceful moment just before your body impacted on the safety mat.

The rest of the day seemed to speed up. You had a few more runs at pole vault before you had to run your final 110 meter hurdles. Your time barely improved. There was a small break for lunch and then it was back to pole vaulting and then you had the 4 x 100 meter relay. You were the anchor and the rest of your team consisted of the next three fastest runners - two third years and one first year. Meeting with your team briefly, you offered some encouraging words before heading to your respective places, though by the looks of things, the first year still seemed to be in her head about it. Thank goodness she was running the third leg, you could make up for her if needed.

With a bang the race started. You counted the seconds in your head. If they ran at their optimal speeds, you wouldn’t have to look back, but you knew that today wasn’t a perfect day. Glancing back you felt your heart drop as the first year runner stumbled and fell.

“Kitagawa, it’s okay, just get up!” you called out, reaching out to her.

The first year pushed herself up and your brows furrowed as the other teams passed her. As soon as you felt the baton grace your fingers, you took off, gripping tightly as you made up for the mistake. Your face flushed as you stopped breathing for a moment, pushing through the last few steps.

Second place.

Breathing heavily, you let your head fall back as you walked it off, hands on your hips. You could feel your blood pump through your veins and your stomach felt tight. Feeling physically better, you shook hands with the competition before you headed over to your coach, who seemed pissed.

Second place.

“C-Captain, I’m so sorry,” cried Kitigawa, covering her face in horror. “I let us down.”

At seeing everyone’s dejected faces, you smiled faintly, resting one hand on the first year’s head and with the other, pulling her forward in a hug. You let her cry it out.

“Kitagawa, you should remember this feeling. Don’t ever forget it. Always remember how terrible it feels as a reminder to keep working hard so you never have to feel this way again. We did well enough to have one more chance today. That’s one more opportunity for you to prove to us you deserve to be a part of this relay team,” you spoke, your voice gentle yet firm. You spent a few more minutes thanking the third years for running so hard and doing their best, asking them to help their first year teammate overcome her nerves.

You finished up pole vault, just in time to run the final 4 x 100. The last competitor you had to beat made a mistake and knocked over the pole at 18 feet which you cleared, but just barely. You’d forgotten to make sure your braid was secured into a bun and it fell loose, making the pole wobble dangerously. It was a huge sigh of relief when it didn’t fall.

“Kitagawa, are you still nervous about messing up?” you asked her. When she didn’t reply, you set a hand on her shoulder and smiled brightly. “You already did the worst thing possible and we still qualified for the last run today. So no more pressure okay? Just run. You’ll be fine.” With those final words you went to your anchor position and waited.

And go.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you took several deep breaths before looking back. A smile stretched across your face as the pass was made to Kitagawa and she ran as hard as she could, no mistakes this time. As soon as your fingers could feel the metal, you took off, taking and maintaining the lead until the finish. Your relay team quickly ran over, lifting you up briefly in excitement, causing a joyful laugh to escape you. When they set you back down, you handed Kitagawa the relay baton and tapped the tip of your nose gently and sent her a wink, before going off to shake hands with all the runners.

It was 3:30PM and everything was on track for awards to be handed out at 4:30, so you cheered for your school from the stands, standing with the volleyball club and doing your best to get them fully involved. Ushijima was a bit of a hard one to get into the spirit. You made him hold a sign while you stood behind him and waved his arms above his head. Your fellow peers looked at you as though you’d grown another head, but you didn’t care. He was letting you do what you wanted.

Awards weren’t anything too fancy. First, second, and third place winners were called for each event, handed their respective ribbons, and then the winners would bow and thank everyone for coming. As captain, you shook the hands of all the other captains, socializing for a bit before it was finally over and you could shower and get some rest.

Right after you bathed, you collapsed on your bed, exhausted. Your spirit wanted you to go back out there and run, but your body was in charge right now and it was screaming rest.

A groan escaped you as your phone pinged several times. Glancing at the screen, you sighed, smiling. Your brother said the volleyball club wanted to treat you to dinner. You texted back, letting him know you didn’t want to go out, but if the boys brought back take out, you wouldn’t mind hanging out in someone’s dorm. Mere seconds later you got a thumbs up emoji, time, and dorm number.

You dressed in a pair of black knit bicycle shorts, white cropped top, and a cute pair of pink socks with peaches embroidered on the ankles. Slipping on your canvas shoes, you snuck into the boy’s dorm and knocked on the correct door. A boy from your year named Kawanishi opened the door, his expression neutral as expected, he stepped aside and let you in, briefly wishing you congratulations for winning.

“Thank you, Kawanishi.” You smiled brightly and gave a polite bow to him. Slipping your shoes off, you set them out of the way before walking into the dorm room.

Yunohama, another second year you recognized waved you over to where he and your brother sat on a bed. “Hey, (Y/N). Welcome to me and Kawanishi’s dorm. Make yourself at home. You can sit on our beds or wherever you like.”

Tsutomu smiled at you. “We’re going to the club room in a few minutes. They’re setting up right now.”

“Tsu, you made your older sister walk all the way over here? The club building’s in the opposite direction,” you pouted at him.

He sighed. “I’ll carry you, old woman.”

True to his word, your brother gave you a piggyback ride the entire way there, his upperclassmen teasing him the entire way. You only hugged onto your brother more tightly, relaxed. Opening the door to the club room, your eyes lit up and you clasped your hands together. The guys were gathered around a table that had so many different ingredients and there was a large stack of nori and three very large bowls of rice.

“Temaki party!” you cheered, getting off your brother’s back and stepping inside, making sure to leave your shoes out of the way. Your eyes were basically hearts as you looked at it closer.

“Goshiki told us this was your favorite,” Yamagata spoke.

“You’re the best, little brother,” you stated, wearing a truly happy expression he’d seen for the first time in a long time.

“We’re all hungry, just start eating,” he lightly scolded, embarrassed as he shoved a plate in your hands.

You hummed delightfully as you made a plate, everyone else following suit. Sitting down, Ushijima sat on one side while your brother sat on the other. Soon everyone joined and chatted casually while eating. Watching Tsutomu interact with everyone made you happy. You were absolutely proud of him for growing up so well. A hum from beside you stole your attention and you peeked to see Ushijima clumsily rolling his temaki. He stared with slight irritation as his rice and roe fell out the other end, having rolled it like a tube instead of a cone shape.

Leaning over to him, you whispered quietly, “Ushijima, can I make you a temaki please? I want you to try this combination of flavors and see what you think.”

He stared at you quietly for a moment before nodding. Okay, so you lied a little. You weren’t trying to get him to try something new. You knew he was obviously the prideful type and he was struggling so you created an opportunity to show him how to roll the nori. Slowly, you constructed the temaki, aware of how he was watching your hands closely to see how you rolled it together.

Handing him the roll, you smiled. “What do you think?”

“Good,” he replied after taking a bite.

Satisfied, you went back to eating and chatting. You glanced over at Ushijima to see the state of his rolls had greatly improved and he seemed to be enjoying himself a bit more. You smiled and immersed yourself into the conversation, sparking up a game of pin pon pan where Semi was the champ for three straight rounds, much to Tendo’s displeasure.

“Does anyone know how to give a massage?” you asked randomly, biting into your last temaki. The boys looked around at each other before shrugging or shaking their heads.

“Yamagata knows how,” your brother spoke absentmindedly. “He helped me the other day when I hurt my arm.”

“H-Hey, don’t go telling people,” Yamagata huffed. “And that wasn’t a massage, dummy. I only helped you stretch your arm out.”

“Oh, sorry.”

You smiled a bit awkwardly and got to your feet. “Well, I think I should head to bed. I’m feeling stiff and sore. I was so focused on showering after today, I forgot to stretch out and now it hurts all over. Thank you so much for everything today. I’ve had the best day ever. I’ll never forget it. Good night, everyone.”

They bid you good night and everyone slowly got up to clean. You were putting on your shoes when Ushijima approached you. “I’ll walk you to your dorm.”

You weren’t going to say no that gesture. The walk was comfortably silent, and very welcomed after a loud and active day. It wasn’t until you reached the building door that he spoke.

“I know how to massage.”

Your brows raised in surprise, slowly relaxing as you thought it over. You didn’t have a roommate and as long as no one saw him, then there wasn’t a problem. Plus, even though you’d just begun to spend more time around him, you observed him enough to know he wasn’t the type to say something he didn’t mean.

Motioning for him to follow, you made it to your dorm without crossing paths with anyone else. Your room was fairly simple, decorated with a few cute knick knacks like snow globes and little plants, photographs, and books. You had a couple of posters on the wall of a boy band and the upcoming Olympics as well as a world map, but that was it. It was clean, cute, and simple.

“Thanks so much, Ushijima, I’m really feeling it all over,” you sighed, a small whine to your voice. “Make yourself at home, okay?” You kicked off your shoes and walked over to your bed as you tied your hair up, plopping face down onto the mattress. You turned your head to the side, watching as he walked over and sat at the edge of your bed. Smiling, you turned your head the opposite way to look at the wall.

Your heart began to race as he swept your hair out of the way. His large hands began to make work at your neck and shoulders. Sweet sighs of content escaped you as he worked, easing your pain. A breathy moan escaped you as his powerful hands reached a particularly sore area below your shoulder blades. A blush rose to your cheeks when you heard yourself. Oh boy. You managed to reel it back and almost fell asleep as he finished up your back and sides.

This quiet time with him gave you a clear moment to think about the gentle giant in your bedroom. It’d been a little over a month since you first spoke to him and started spending more time in his presence. It was normal for you to have lunch with the volleyball team, an unspoken rule that your spot was beside him. He said it was to make sure you actually ate something. You noticed him more around campus and he would actively acknowledge you with a nod. He even invited you to have dinner a few times, sometimes with the team, other times just the two of you. You even went with him on runs through town a few times. As you analyzed these moments with him, you wondered if there was more to it. Only one way to find out.

“Hey senpai...do you like me?” you asked, voice softer than you meant it. But it was silent in your room and you knew he could still hear your question. You felt your eyes begin to water and suddenly felt foolish for opening your mouth. This was definitely one way to ruin something.

“I do,” he replied simply and easily. It was a bit too easily in your opinion.

“Senpai... I mean... Do you like me as more than just friends?” Biting your lip to stop it from trembling, you gripped your comforter tightly.

“I like you, (Y/N).”

You didn’t move, you felt frozen in place. Say something, you idiot. Stop staring at the wall and just say something (Y/N), please.

“I’ll let you rest.”

There was some shuffling and the lights were turned off, then the sound of your door opening and closing.

Shit.

The next day at lunch, you sat outside, climbing up to sit on a tree branch. You were reading another book for Japanese class, Kokoro by Natsume Soseki. Engrossed with the content in your hands, you barely noticed your phone go off. Fumbling with the device, you sighed at seeing 6 messages from your brother wondering if you were joining them for lunch and escalating to the point of asking if you’d been kidnapped. Another ping and your eyes widened as you hastily sent him a reply, telling him he didn’t need to report you missing to the school. You snapped a selfie of yourself in the tree, smiling and holding up a peace sign, and sent it to him, adding that you were just eating outside. His response was an angry emoji making you laugh.

Closing your eyes, you sighed and enjoyed the breeze and shade of the tree. It almost made you forget you were at school. You watched as a bird landed at the end of the branch you sat on. Staying silent, you wondered what kinds of things it’d seen in its life.

“Ushijima,” a female voice called out, making the bird take flight.

You pouted and looked around, noticing between the leaves and branches a girl running up to the said man. Your face lit up. He was silent as he turned to faced her.

“I saw you at the track meet yesterday cheering for Goshiki’s sister,” she started. How curious to bring you up. “I wanted to know if you’d come to my tennis match to cheer me on.”

“Will Goshiki’s sister be there?” You placed a hand over your mouth and your eyebrows raised at his question. Shifting, you reached for another branch and leaned forward, trying to listen better. As the wind pass through, it it was harder to hear over the rustle of leaves.

“No. Why would she be there?”

“I won’t be attending.”

“Oh... Sorry for bothering you.”

You grimaced as you felt yourself slip - your book and hardly eaten sandwich falling onto the ground below you - and now you were awkwardly clinging to one branch with your legs and had your hands pressed against another branch that was too thick for you get a firm hold of, desperately trying not to fall. A loud gasp and squeal escaped you, eyes shutting tight, as your arms gave out from supporting the odd angle your body was in and you hung upside down, desperately trying to hold your skirt in place. This was definitely not the day to be wearing sheer panties.

“(Y/N). What are you doing?”

Oh hell.

You smiled and let out an uncomfortable laugh. “I slipped.”

“I see.”

Opening your eyes, you gasped at how close your faces were. If he were to just stand on his tip toes you were sure that- You bit your lip, not even entertaining finishing that thought.

“Do you... think you could help me down? I think I’m going to fall,” you confessed.

He nodded and walked around to stand behind you, reaching up to hold your waist. Tilting your head back, you let your skirt drop as you reached back for his shoulders, holding tightly as your legs let go. You felt your heart skip as he held you up seemingly without effort, and your mind was conflicted in whether you wanted him to put you down or not. He carefully set you down, but his hands lingered at your sides, as did your own on his shoulders.

As you stared into his dark olive eyes, you felt yourself break and there was no way to stop the flood of words that escaped you. “Ushijima, I have feelings for you. I want to have meals with you, and train with you. I want to talk to you all the time, in person, on the phone... I want to know what’s on your mind, no matter what it is. To touch you freely and be touched by you. And I want to support you at your games, and it’s selfish, but I want you to support me at mine and only mine. I want you to smile because of me. I want to know you.”

“I also want you to smile because of me,” his voice was quiet, but with conviction. “I accept your feelings.” He pulled you forward, wrapping his arms around you tightly. You buried your face into his chest and held onto his uniform jacket, relieved.

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyu #vollyeboy #shiratorizawa #reader insert #fanfic #imagine #my senpai

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cyb-by-lang · 5 years ago

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Phone a Friend

A drabble based in that one OSF AU called All The Little Children. You know, that huge one-shot where all the Tailed Beasts are the size of cats and also the ASL bros are kids. This is the start of Side B, like on a record. At least it’s not broken.

With all the chaos that the kids got up to last time, I figured there was still a bit of space to insert yet more shenanigans.

I’m also thinking of having the Kiddie Crew have their own series of drabbles and one-shots, but we’ll see how that works out~

“I wanted to ask you something,” Ace said one day, in Kei’s clearing with his pipe slung across his back and his arms crossed, more defensive than trying to start a fight.

The turtle-toting woman still wasn’t in Fū’s good books, but Naruto and Gaara loved her. Luffy would latch onto anyone who lived on Mt. Colubo for long enough and wasn’t cruel to his brothers, so his judgment was definitely in question. Especially when food-based bribes were so close at hand all the time. Sabo was more cautious, but it’d been a whole month without unwarranted punches to the head from an adult and he’d started to drop his guard. He wasn’t as wary as Ace was, ever, but he was closer.

Ace wasn’t sure what he thought. The first adult to brush off his concerns about being Roger’s son was still a bit of a mystery, even now, but not so much that Ace couldn’t come up here alone while the others kept Luffy distracted. With that bloodthirsty first impression well out of the way, and the second one knocked out of reality by someone who could take Gramps’s punches, that just left this awkward, intermittent caretaker.

“Okay,” said Kei, up to her elbows in what’s going to be their group’s dinner tonight. Under the work table, Isobu lurked like a grumpy footstool. “Do you mind if I keep working?”

According to Naruto, the vaunted Kei didn’t spend much of her time dressing wild game before arriving on Dawn Island. The huge alligator lying in fifteen pieces all around the clearing would beg to differ, probably. Sabo even made a deal with her a while back for all the pelts and skins of the beasts everyone hunted, just because it never seemed like she had any use for them. The ASL brothers got money and fed, and Kei got…to not deal with animal skins?

It was probably a win-win situation, somehow.

“Go ahead,” said Ace, and just made sure he was outside of the potential splash zone. “You might wanna keep chopping anyway. Fū promised to keep Luffy running around all day. You know how they are.”

“I’ll take your word for that, then.” She slammed her cleaver down on the stump she’d been using as a knife block. “Go ahead and ask whatever you need to ask, Ace.”

“That thing you did with Bluejam and Sabo’s dad.” Ace paused as Kei’s swings slowed for a moment, watching her reaction with ice rolling down his spine. Then, as the tempo of butchering returned to normal, he said, “I want to learn how to do it.”

Kei scooped the hash she’d made out of alligator tail into a waiting bucket with the flat of the cleaver. Then she said, “I’m not sure you can.”

“What?” The flat, unfeeling tone to her voice set Ace’s temper flaring, just like it always did. It was the same tone shitty adults used when they said things they thought were true, and that kids didn’t need to know about.

“I’m also not exactly sure what you’re talking about,” she added, tilting her head curiously at him. She rubbed idly at her face with the heel of one hand, then grimaced at the blood streak left across her cheek. She looked like a murderer, except for the confused tilt of her head. “Sorry, are you talking about the fighting part or…?”

“I meant the thing you did to make everyone afraid of you!” Ace bit out, desperation getting the better of his self-control. His fists clenched, though he didn’t go for his pipe.

In some ways, Kei’s patient listening face was worse than being laughed at. Even if no one saw what happened in Gray Terminal, Bluejam disappeared. Sabo’s shitty dad never bothered them again. Ace knew this woman was strong enough to protect his brothers when he wasn’t. The difference between their strengths stuck in him like a thorn in his sandal. Nothing helped him dig it out, no matter how hard he trained or how many people he fought.

Ace snapped into a bow, though maybe not as good as the one Makino tried to teach him. “Please tell me how to do that.”

Thunk. Thunk. Then there was a sound like a flag flapping, but heavier, as Kei tossed the alligator skin over the drying rack.

“You don’t need to bow to me,” Kei said, already making her way to the pump on the side of her little cabin.

“It is an interesting thing to ask us,” said Isobu, dragging himself out and into Ace’s eyeline. “Sit down.”

Ace did so, because he’d been doused by Isobu’s weird water gun mouth about fifteen times by now, and the sixteenth was not the charm. While the turtle-thing stared him down with his single unblinking eye, Ace fidgeted a little. Sat with his legs under him and listened to the sound of the pump working, nervous but not like actually afraid. Not like with Gramps.

“Killing intent is what it sounds like,” Isobu explained, tucking his leg-arms under his belly. “It is not precisely a skill, but instead a matter of the sheer will to do harm to people.”

“Kinda figured that from the name,” Ace said, in a slightly sullen mutter.

“It is self-explanatory,” Isobu agreed, curling his tails as well, “but for that reason, I do not know if you have the capacity for it.”

At this point, Kei returned while flicking water from her hands. She sat in the grass across from Ace, just far enough away and with her legs crossed, so that Ace’s nerves settled a little. Though he wasn’t sure how, she always tried to do little things like that to help Ace and Sabo feel a little safer around her. Sure, they both knew she was faster and stronger than anybody else on the island, but not showing it off was a sign she at least cared about their impressions of her.

It only helped so much, but it was noticeable.

“Like Isobu was saying, killing intent is…not really something I thought you’d want to learn,” Kei said, scrutinizing him with her eyes barely peeking out past her bangs. “What brought this on?”

“I’ve fought a lot of people before,” Ace said, staring back as steadily as he could, “but I couldn’t do anything against Bluejam. None of us could do anything until Gaara and Fū showed up to save us.” He gripped his knees hard enough for his knuckles to go white. “I need to get stronger.”

“Does that remind you of anyone you know, Kei?” Isobu’s voice asked, but when Ace looked up in surprise, the turtle pointed firmly at Kei with his left tail.

“Only everyone,” Kei sighed. She rested her chin on her hand, elbow on knee, and finally said, “As violent as you and your brothers can be, Ace, I don’t know if killing intent is ever going to be your thing.”

Ace wasn’t sure whether that was a compliment or an insult. “Why’s that?”

Kei glanced at Isobu. Ace did, too, and the little turtle wiggled his tails. “I don’t know you that well, but I do know you’d do anything to protect your brothers. That sound right?”

Ace nodded firmly. “Duh.”

“So would I.” That gave Ace pause. Kei had brothers? Since when? “But I was younger than you when I decided that anybody who hurt Hayate would die. I’ve had a long time to just…” She waved a hand as though searching for a word. “To just hone that feeling. It’s not a healthy state of mind, carrying murder around like that. Isobu makes it worse.”

Isobu’s tails wiggled like seaweed in a current. “I would argue—”

“No.”

“But—”

“We’re already bad influences. Don’t push it.” Kei stared at Isobu until the little monster rolled his eye and subsided with a grumble. She then turned her attention back to Ace. “It’s not just about wanting to kill someone. It’s… I hate to make moral judgments like this, but it takes at least a little evil to get the raw power for it. When you’re using killing intent, any ideas about the value of life just don’t exist. ”

Ace opened his mouth to protest. He’d wanted Bluejam dead. He’d been out killing wild animals since he could walk away from the Dadan pirates and explore the island. He fought everything, stole, and lied and cheated and—and he was Roger’s—

“You’re not evil, Ace,” Kei said sharply, cutting across his thoughts like one of her swords. She peered at his expression with too-knowing eyes, folding her arms over her chest. “You’re a kid with issues, but you’re nowhere near as bad as you think you are. That’s why I don’t think you can fuel an attack like that through sheer malice.”

“Like you said, you don’t know me that well.” Ace glared down at his knees.

Kei made a noise that sounded like agreement, but with strings attached. “Tell you what—there’s probably a better route, and it might be something your brothers can learn with you.” When Ace looked up in surprise, Kei went on, “It’s called haki. It’s a power that’s rare before you get to the later parts of the Grand Line, but it’ll save your life.”

Ace stared at her. “I thought Naruto said his thing was called ‘chakra.’”

“His is, but he was born with the potential to use that. Haki can be learned by anyone.” Kei’s eyes rolled skyward for a second as she thought that over. “Mostly. Keep in mind that I don’t use haki, but I’ve known people who do. Their lessons may still help you.”

Isobu swatted Kei’s leg with one of his tails. “I was also listening, thank you.”

She paused for another one of her awkward stretches, staring her little monster friend down. Ace was never sure what went through Kei’s head when she zoned out, but all of the kids Ace knew had tried attacking her during those silences just to see how she’d react. Mostly, she snapped out of it instantly and sent people flying over her shoulder or straight into the dirt.

The second one was mostly for the FNG gang. She was gentler with Ace and his brothers, as weird as that was.

Kei said at last, “I can teach you what I know. My first true demonstration was when a guy kicked me through an island, so I’m sure it’ll help you punch above your weight class.”

It wasn’t what Ace asked for. Even so, the idea of being able to knock someone like Kei around was a tempting one. If Gramps had trouble getting Kei out of his face when he showed up to visit, then Ace aimed to be even stronger. Chasing One Piece demanded no less.

“If you want to stick around and help me prepare all this, I’ll try explaining as we go,” Kei offered.

There was still an awful lot of alligator lying around. For some reason, Kei almost always turned this kind of meat into tiny stew cubes and cooked it with vegetables instead of just letting the kids eat everything immediately. When Ace wondered about it aloud, Sabo said something about “food poisoning,” but none of them knew what that meant unless there were weird mushrooms involved. Meat didn’t go uneaten around them long enough for it to go bad.

Ace was tempted—he’d learned cooking meant snacking while they worked—but finally said when Kei went to retrieve her cleaver, “Do you have anything I can just take back to the others right now?”

“The usual lunchboxes are in the cellar,” Kei told him, already getting back to work. She had big butcher’s gloves and everything. “Door’s open.”

Ace left his pipe stuck in the turf as he headed into Kei’s little cabin. It was pretty bare, aside from cooking utensils and the kind of stuff even Dadan had—bed, storage trunk, and so on. She hadn’t even really decorated. Ace already knew from previous visits that Kei didn’t store treasure here or really anywhere, and so Ace pulled up the hatch and hopped down into the cellar without bothering to snoop.

A minute later, Ace had dragged all of the lunchboxes—really medicine boxes with straps for carrying—out the front door. Between the ropes left at the front of the cabin and the length of his pipe, he tied all of them together in a huge stack and hauled them onto his back. The fact that the burden was bigger than he was didn’t slow him down for a second. He and Sabo had carried whole jungle beasts around for years, so the lunchboxes were barely noticeable.

“Remind the others that dinner is at sunset,” Kei called as he left, still hammering away at the alligator’s tough ribs. “And tell Luffy that he needs to eat all the vegetables this time, or he might get scurvy.”

“…What’s scurvy?”

“A disease that makes your eyeballs bleed and your teeth fall out.”

Ace froze.

Kei didn’t smile when she looked up, blood splattered across the front of her rubber apron. Her panda eyes were flat and serious. She even managed to hold that expression on her scarred face for a full five seconds, then shrugged and turned back to her work. “Anyway, have fun adventuring today.”

Isobu’s high, croaky laughter chased Ace all the way down the mountain.

This probably had something to do with the fact that the turtle rolled most of the way after him, but, regardless, there was still no way Ace would forget that lesson anytime soon.

Unbeknownst to Ace, Kei spent the bulk of the afternoon after he left on a snail call. The eventual alligator stew components were cleaned, stored, and marinating in the largest vat of soy sauce she’d ever gotten her hands on, which gave her a little time to shore up one teensy little problem in her lesson plan.

"This is Thatch's Pancake House! We slap ‘em, you stack ‘em! How can I take your order?"

“It’s Kei,” she said, and waited for the sound of several pirates falling over to come to an eventual stop in the background. Before Thatch could yell at her for being out of contact, Kei said in a rush, “So, I offered to teach a bunch of kids how to use haki, except I don’t actually know how it works. How did you learn?”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE FINALLY CALLING FOR?!” demanded several people at once. Thatch was just the loudest of the kitchen crew.

“You what,” said someone else. Sounded a little like Teach, actually. Kei had never liked him much.

“I need to teach a bunch of kids how to use haki,” Kei repeated, with a little more impatience.

“WHY?!”

“Because they’ll get themselves killed otherwise,” Kei said. “Again, a little help?”

“You—ugh, I’m taking this snail to Pops.” Thatch sounded exasperated at best. “Stay on the line!”

“Can do,” Kei chirped, and listened to several pirates on the other end crash to a halt at the sound of her voice using that tone. They were too far away to retaliate.

“Quit sassing us and explain where you’ve been, you brat!”

#all the little children #ocean stars falling #portgas d. ace #keisuke gekko #isobu #thatch #one piece #naruto #crossover #catch your breath fanfic

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razorblade180 · 4 years ago

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Twin Snowflakes pt16:Royal Court

Flynt:Well look who it is!? Wasn’t expecting to be sent back to the past like this.

Veronica:Nice to see you too Mr. Smooth Criminal.

Flynt:I see your mom gave you her wittiness too.

Veronica:Hardly. If you hear me crack a pun then check to see if I have the flu or something.

Flynt:I meant Blake.

Veronica:Oh…not, not sure how I should take that.

Flynt:Don’t think about it too much. So you’re here to help set everything up? Well we sure don’t mind all the extra hands; more helpers mean more time for everyone to rest. Unless you’re a crazy person who doesn’t know how to rest.

Nick:Gee I didn’t realize Atlas became Shade. Always picking on me for the little things.

Flynt:All in good fun. Well Veronica, glad to have you. I won’t lie to you and say our school holds the most welcoming environment despite their reasons for being here, so don’t hesitate to come get me if anything serious happens.

Veronica:Thanks for the offer but I know how to handle myself and a few close minded simpletons.

Flynt:Somehow I have no doubt about that.

He grabbed a pin that said committee on his desk and put it on her shirt. Veronica bowed slightly before taking her leave. It was always interesting for Nick seeing the girl be so polite. The way she could flip between her manners with anyone so fast was always something she was good at. He once saw her go from shaking a man’s hand to punching them in the face in the blink of an eye.

Flynt:Is your sister here today?

Nick:I’ll hunt her down if she isn’t, why?

Flynt:Only asking. I know I tell you to let others handle their own workload but I advise you to keep an eye on Veronica just in case.

Nick:Trust me, Veronica might have a temper but she typically thinks things through; the school won’t get a bad-

Flynt:I don’t care about this place’s reputations, or my position for that matter. Your friend just looks like she’s nearing the end of her rope.

Nick:Really? What gives you that vibe?

Flynt:When you partner up with a cat faunus, you learn a thing or two. As far as tails go, it usually isn't good when they’re wrapped around the waist and all tense; almost like she’s hugging or bracing herself.

Nick:When does Neon do it.

Flynt:When she’s being defensive. Keep in mind I could be entirely wrong in Veronica’s case though. Just something to be aware of.

Nick:Hmm interesting. Thanks for the heads up.

Nicholas gave his principal a wave before heading out, his words taken to heart. ‘Maybe Yang was right to worry?’ He chewed on his bottom lip as he slowly caught up to the girl. ‘Right or wrong, getting her to eat couldn’t hurt.’

Nick:You know I think breakfast is still being served. I’m pretty hungry after looking for you and I bet running on rooftops made you peckish. Wanna grab a bite really quick? The school’s chicken bisc-

Veronica:Not interested, sorry. I would rather find where I’ll be working.

Nick: ‘Too direct’ Lunch isn’t for awhile. Working on an empty stomach-

Veronica stopped and opened her bag. Nick looked in it and saw several fruits and what was probably protein bars. He’d be impressed if prior knowledge didn’t make this seem like a yellow flag at best.

Veronica zipped back up her bag and continued walking, now a little faster. Her focus was derailed by Nick grabbing her wrist and making her jolt, spooking both of them. He didn’t comment on it and started guiding her down a different hallway.

Nick:You’re walking as if you know where to go. For future reference, wooden doors are regular classes and school stuff. Metal doors are combat related. You’ll work in the student council room; the creative arts hallway is to the right of it. They have plenty of time between classes for you to get whatever you need.

Veronica:Alright, easy enough to remember.

Nick:Fill free to explore the school if you want but don’t interrupt any classes and a lunch monitor will probably get on you if you go in there during different blocks.Summer has lunch at noon.

Veronica:And why would that matter to me?

Nick:So you don’t bump into her on accident, or if you need her for whatever reason. Do not, and I repeat, do not give her a hard time. She already hates school enough.

Veronica:Relax, I’ll play nice. Don’t expect me to sit with her at lunch or anything. That lunch room is probably loud as hell.

Nick:Summer eats on the roof, or the nurses office. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen her at a lunch table. Then again, I don’t spend a lot of time there either.

For some reason that was interesting to learn. Veronica was sure those two would have taken the time to eat with each other or be around peers; even if it was for show. Nick seemed like he’d use lunch for studying so she guessed it wasn’t that surprising. ‘Knowing Summer she would go there if you did.’ Veronica thought.

They finally reached the committee room. Nick grabbed the door knob but didn’t get the chance to twist it before it already swung open with Eliza on the other side.

Eliza:I swear if this boiler room doesn’t get its shit togeth-

Nick:....Uh, hey. Busy morning?

Eliza:You would know if you got here early like the president this school believes you to be!

Nick:One, I’m usually here thirty minutes prior so don’t come at me. Two, a hello would be nice. Finally, the boiler room messing up again?

Eliza:One, hello. Two, I’m here an hour early, three, yes it’s taking too long to warm certain things if at all. Finally, where’s the person who knows how to fix it?

Nick:Haven’t seen Valerie and you definitely know I haven’t seen Winchester, that’s your headache.

Eliza:Ugh, I guess I’ll cheat and warm it up myself.

Nick:Don’t blow us up…

Eliza:Shut up, unlike you I’m cautious. Might’ve come in handy against that Paladin.

Nick:Like you would’ve said yes if I asked.

Eliza:Who knows? If you got on your knees I might’ve said yes instantly. Guess we’ll never know; why aren’t you in home room ?

Nick:Last time I checked, you want to be kept in the loop from now on. We have another person helping starting today.

Eliza directed her attention to Veronica and looked her up and down before looking at Nick annoyed.

Nick:Problem?

Eliza:Yeah, I would’ve called a short meeting if I had known earlier. Being kept in the loop doesn’t mean telling me something last second.

Veronica:This was a last second decision. Lucky me because I hate meetings. I’m-

Eliza:I know who you are Veronica Belladonna; I’ve read about you quite a bit actually. Quite a shame your work doesn’t have much to show for it.

Veronica:I could say the same thing about your tournament rankings. Third place gets such a tiny font in the papers.

Eliza:Hmph, kitty has claws alright. Looking forward to seeing what you contribute. Nick looks confident in you so I’m sure it’ll be fruitful. There’s a list of things that need to be done inside the room already. Don’t hesitate to make my life easier.

Eliza shot Nick a cold look as she walked out slowly. Nick couldn’t help but notice the girls slightly sluggish movements.

Veronica:I don’t like her.

Nick:You don’t like most people so what’s new? Eliza is a hard ass but she’s a good person. Definitely reliable, so don’t piss her off. She’s already gunning for me at the tournament and I don’t need anger behind her hits.

Veronica:This list of people I have to be chummy with is getting too long for my taste.

Nick:Vee, I’ve only named three people. Three good people at that. Well...two and a half. Anyways I gotta get to class so you’re on your own for now.

Veronica:Have fun with that. Don’t be surprised if I’m running this entire place by the end of the day.

Nick:That would mean dethroning me, a tall order.

Veronica:Who says we can’t rule together? You know, as king and queen?

A blush spread across his face before he heard Veronica chuckle, only making him redder. Nick turned away in embarrassment and headed to class. It never took much to get him flustered. Veronica felt a little bad; it was something his classmates probably didn’t know.

‘Try all you want Nick,I won’t let you keep your cool.’ Veronica thought, still chuckling to herself. She would’ve continued to do so if the bell didn’t snap her out of it and hurt her ears. “That’s gonna take some getting used to.

Vee went ahead inside the student council room. It was surprisingly spacious and barren. Mostly tables lined around it and a giant blackboard filled with words. Papers were spread around the desks. ‘Wow, disorganized much?’ She took a deep whiff of all the different scents in the room, recognizing a few.

Her eyes scanned the desks. ‘Nick, Valerie, Eliza, even Summer, and several more.’ One paper caught her nose in particular. ‘It wouldn’t be unusual for all the members to have held the list. So...this one?’ She picked up a thin stack that was stapled together. Bingo, the nose always knows.

Venue, light arrangement, stage size, schedule events, all of it was laid out in detail; even down to the estimated budget. One page was a map of the layout which really helped? But something was off. All of this might’ve been planned out it seemed...conceptual. Scatterbrained even. Like all the thoughts were together but going in different directions at the same time.

‘The room isn’t the only thing disorganized it looks like. This list is like a buffet when it should be a potluck. Divide the work, make sure there’s no repeats or clashing themes. If the fights are the main course…’ Veronica took a seat and grabbed a pencil along with fresh paper. ‘Then let’s make sure to give the people plenty of complimenting sides and palate cleanser.’

xxxx

“That's all you can do! Talk about slow!” Valerie shouted with gusto, her hands juggling her tomahawks in the middle of the arena ring.

“Shut up!” Cried her sword wielding opponent. They charged forward with their sword at the ready.

Valerie made no attempt to stop her juggling. Her eyes pierced right into her foe’s as they prepared for a thrust. Valerie shook her head in disappointment. “Sloppy”

The words reached the student and a dark blue glow washed over them. Suddenly their muscles felt heavy, air felt stingy, and their balance was off. The steel sword tipped too far forward and made them stumble, their body stopping at the perfect distance to receive a powerful roundhouse kick to the face that sent them flying out of the ring.

A buzzer rang right after and Valerie finally let her weapons hit the ground as she walked to the edge to see Harriet helping the dazed student.

Valerie:Their jaw okay?

Harriet:If you have to ask then that means you knew you were being too rough. You get a B- Valerie. Please remember restraint. Your semblance and strength can really hurt someone.

Valerie:Sorry…

Harriet:Don’t be sorry, be careful.

That was a line Valerie was familiar with. She watched Harriet help the student to their feet and guided them to the changing room before turning to the rest of the class.

Harriet:Well then, I say that’s enough for practical fights. Unless we have any volunteers, Summer?

Summer: Y-Yes!? I mean no! No, I’m fine. Training is all...covered and stuff.

Harriet:Fine then. Okay everyone knows the drill. Five laps around the track and then you are free from my charming voice. *claps hands* hop to it!

A collective groan came from the class before they started walking to the door. Summer waited for others to be ahead of her like usual and waited for Valerie to catch up.

Valerie:Enjoy the show?

Summer:Eh, felt like a rerun of most of your matches.

Valerie:What can I say? Being this good means I’m always a safe bet princess.

Summer:You won’t be if you call me that again.

Valerie:Ooo feisty today.

Harriet:You’re one to talk. *folds arms* Valerie, thirteen laps for you.

Valerie:What!? But I hate cardio!

Harriet:Good, I’m sure whatever aggression you have will burnout; Summer you have seven. A warning for all your absences.

Summer:Fair, but literally the day after? We’re still sore.

Harriet:Physically or mentally? Just kidding, I know it’s both. Now go before I add more laps.

Summer and Valerie:Yes ma’am…*runs off*

Harriet:Teenagers…

Valerie:Man this sucks! So I hit a little harder than I meant to, so what?

Summer:You’re gonna run out of breath before you start your laps.

Valerie:Maybe then I won’t overlap you.

Summer:Please, you’d need time dilation to do that with your speed. I’ll call you if I need to move some furniture, you lumberjack.

Valerie:Ouch, feisty. Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?

Summer:No, but obviously you did. Seeing you in my bus seat this morning was pretty unexpected.

Valerie:Too sore to swallow. I figured-

Summer:That you wanted distance from Nick?

A pit in Valerie’s stomach dropped like a weight. She looked towards Summer to see neutral eyes examine her in great detail. She wondered what exactly it was that Summer was looking at. Color, sweat, hidden guilt, or fear?

Summer:Did you tell him about the bus? Actually, not fair, I don’t wanna know that. What I should be asking is...no, not that either. Sorry, I probably sound like I’m spouting craziness. What I’m getting at is I’m upset too, about my performance during the exam.

Valerie:You tr-

Summer:I swear if you say I tried my best then I’ll scream.

Valerie:....Sorry. You’re wrong though, about me being upset. Frankly I don’t know exactly what I’m feeling. Anxious, embarrassed maybe? I just know I don’t really want to deal with Nick right now. Nothing personal, honestly.

Summer:No offense but it’s entirely personal. I’m not gonna blame you for wanting alone time. Nick and his overwhelming nature is...overwhelming. Always butting in, worrying about everyone but himself and-

Valerie:Being absolutely sweet? It’s all out of kindness; which I don’t necessarily know if it makes it better. I think it does anyways.

Her eyes seemed to drift off thinking about it. He really was always there for anything. Good or bad, Valerie would see the idiot next to her. It was genuinely comforting, and scary. Scary for reasons that for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out.

She was thankful when Summer touched her arm and dispelled the mix of conflicting emotions. Val shook her head and cleared her throat.

Valerie:Enough about Nick! Let’s talk about something more progressive, like how to delete a video the entire school has seen.

Summer:No amount of money or power will erase it. Eliza really screwed us on this one.

Valerie:Wait, what!?

Summer:She’s the one who recorded the quality video. Not out of malice or anything but-

Valerie:I’m gonna fight her…

Summer:Ignoring me? That’s cool too.

Valerie:Oh I heard you, still pissed!

Summer:What happened to not being pissed?

Valerie:Okay, so I’m a little pissed. Ugh! Of all people. I hope she makes it far in the tournament. I don’t think I can take any more nosy people.

Summer:(Should I mention Veronica?)

Valerie:*cracking knuckles* I’m fired up now!

Summer:(Nope) Cool, start running then. Think of it as a head start.

Valerie:Fine, but if I finish my laps before you then I think that’s worth some sort of prize. Let’s say...a movie, just the two of us?

Summer:Hmmm, no deal. I sort of have this thing where I don’t go on dates with my brother’s crushes.

Valerie:We don’t have to call it a date. It would be two friends hanging out like buds.

Summer:.....

Valerie:Yeah, I didn’t believe myself either. Come on, what’s wrong with one simple date?

Summer:Nothing, if it were simple. One of these days you’ll figure it out.

Valerie:Figure what out?

Summer:Finish your laps first and I might tell you, if you beat me that is.

Valerie:You’re on!

Summer makes no effort to start running as Valerie takes off with renewed determination. No doubt it will carry her for at least three laps. Win or lose, Summer planned to keep her mouth shut. There were certain things that should be learned in time, instead of told outright. She had faith in Valerie.

Either way it would take time, almost like a cheesy romance novel. Slow burns never interested Summer. There was always a person who crossed a line. Good thing Nick and Valerie were way too smart to do anything that would endanger their friendship, right?

xxxx

Time seemed to be moving at a snail's pace today. At least it was for Veronica anyways. There was a small stack of paper near her now. Each one filled with edits that reorganized all the organized chaos from the council. ‘I hate to admit it, but this Eliza check really puts in work. They all do in some way; Valerie might look dense and lazy but I shouldn’t be surprised that she can handle work. Can’t say much for her creativity though. Still, Nick seems to stand above it all. Just like him to try without showing it. Tiny notes that build upon the others.’

Veronica grabbed the next sheet of paper and kept her pace. This was far easier than designing clothes. It was almost therapeutic in a way. The only thing that was distracting her from her growing agitation. Snacks, all gone. Hunger? So intense that it hurt everywhere. Bones, eyes, nerves, all of it. She wasn’t used to this pain, and she doubted she ever would be.

Calmly she felt her stomach grumble against her nails; which threatened to sharpen. It wouldn’t surprise her if her eyes looked more cat like right now. A wiser Veronica would’ve binged at a buffet before visiting Atlas. She could usually go longer without caving; maybe it was the boat ride? Veronica knew for a fact any instinctual push could potentially set her off. Too late for regrets. No way would she let people see her go feral. Not when they were already talking…

“Did you see that girl with Nick today? Haven’t seen her before.” Said someone in the hall. “You think that girl is rich or something? A girl said in a classroom. “Ha! How rich could a faunus get!?”

The chatter kept coming from every direction.

“That girl is pretty smoking.”

“Jungle fever much?”

“You know what they say about faunus girls.”

“Probably a charity project.”

“Never seen ears and a tail at once.”

“I think she’s ugly honestly”

“Pretty, for a faunus.”

“I think she’s a halfbreed.”

“Freak….”

Her pencil snapped. She basically shattered it to gain some sort of control, ignoring the splinters yet accepting the pain in full force as she kept her fist clenched tight. Veronica wished folding her ears down could be enough, that if she covered them tight she could finally get some quiet; that would be wishful thinking. Tactics like those never worked.

‘Different place, same people. So do what you were told Veronica.’ She told herself. A deep breath in, then out. Letting her eyes close and focus on the only thing that mattered. Herself. Her thoughts and opinions; long flowing hair, sun tanned skin, ears, tail, blood…

All little things that made her up she thought were just fine; not perfect, but not flawed either. They were simply her and that was glorious. As long as she believed that, as long as the people who mattered believed it, then who gives a fuck about what’s said outside?

“Hey princess, come to grace us with your presence?” Veronica heard, from what could possibly be the fakest happy voice in existence. accompanied by the frailest one she’s heard all her life.

xxxx

Summer:Ple-please le-leave-ah!

An arm brushes pass her head and slams into a locker directly behind her. Summer clenches her belongings close to her chest and stares up into the taller girl's brown eyes. Dark brown hair and brown skin really made her stand our. No doubt a cheerleader or head of a club. Combat school or not, beauty was the law of the land to an extent.

A small crowd started forming around them in curiosity because of the noise.

Jordan:What, Princess? Am I not worth your time? I just wanna catch up.

Summer:You’re...causing a scene.

Jordan:That a problem? Don’t you like all that attention and limelight; the personal benefits that somehow let you float above it all?

The girl put her fingers through Summer’s hair. Her eyes drilling into the girl with obvious hostile intent.

Jordan:You know, I’m getting really sick and tired of being overshadowed by someone who never lifts a finger. I miss a day and there’s hell to pay. You miss weeks before and yet your grades stay the same. What, got that fine brother of yours bending over backwards?

Summer:What? No I-

Jordan:I was really hoping you’d get what was coming to you yesterday but of course not. I will say it is hilarious letting people see how frail and useless you are. Maybe if you spent more time eating a sandwich instead of trying to do something with that useless voice of yours…

That insult hit a special spot.

Jordan:Then maybe you wouldn’t be such a lightweight. At least you finally know how to dress yourself. A blow to the head must’ve knocked some sense into you. Doesn’t change the fact you still have all those hideous scars. I bet your fans would love to see-

It was sudden, almost instantaneous. The girl had gone from trash talking one minute, then to holding her wrist right after a loud smack from another hand had invaded Summer and Jordan’s delightful conversation. Summer hadn’t even realized Veronica was watching, let alone standing next to her currently.

Murmurs started to grow louder as the students stared at this unfamiliar faunus that stood confidently, hands on her hips and a look that could kill. Veronica paid no attention to them or Summer for that matter. Instead she had her attention on the bully. A thin red whelp on the girl’s wrist made Veronica silently say “shit” to herself. Her nails must’ve grazed the skin; a genuine mistake.

She was already questioning why she showed up here in the first place. A fight was the last thing she needed or attention. So why intervene? Why prevent Summer from turning on the water works? Easy answer, basic people pissed her off

Veronica:Ever heard of personal space? I thought all Atlesians knew basic etiquette but apparently not.

Jordan:Umm who the hell are you supposed to be?

Veronica:It’s not polite to ask others their name without introducing yourself either, but I guess anyone would want to know the name of a person that threatens them. Then again, a school like this would be diligent in political topics.

Summer:You think the majority of kids here pay attention to the news or the bad part of history?

Veronica:I guess this is what passes for elite around here. How disappointing.

Jordan:Listen, apparently you don’t know things work around here new girl but I’m-

Veronica:Completely irrelevant to me, an afterthought when this is all over. I don’t know how popular you might be or who you might know. Keeping shooting your mouth off and this headache of mine isn’t going to go away. Find something more productive to do than play bully.

Jordan:Ha, so that’s what this is about!? Didn’t realize that good for nothing princess had any friends besides that idiot sports jockey.

Veronica:Please, I wouldn’t be this child’s friend even if she paid me. Her crying hurts my ears almost as much as your prissy voice.

‘Oooos’ came from the crowd of people. It didn’t matter what school you went to, kids craved this kind of back talk. Summer wasn’t sure how things suddenly got so hostile, but that jab at her irritated her.

Summer:Yeah well why would I ever want a friend like you?

Veronica:Crippling loneliness.

Summer:Oh, so I would have to be desperate? That sounds about right.

Veronica:Go jump in front of another robot arm or something, the big kids are talking. Or I’m talking, this chick is pouting.

Jordan:I will not be talked to like this! Not by some...some…

Veronica:Say it, call me anything that has to do with being a faunus and see how far it gets you.

Jordan:A flea bag like you doesn’t scare me you bitch.

Summer:Hey! D-

Jordan:Excuse you, why are you even talking still, or even here!? Do us all a favor and fucking disappear like the nothing you are. I mean honestly, why the hell are you even alive?

The crowd went absolutely silent, all eyes went on Summer. Her heartbeat felt like it nearly stopped entirely. Feeling small was something she was used to. Jordan hadn’t said anything Summer didn’t think of before and yet right now, in this moment, Summer felt like she had been shot right in the heart.

Why? Why couldn’t she say anything back? What made all these eyes so terrifying? The eyes that no doubt saw her on stage before where they didn’t mean a thing. The eyes that most likely laughed when they saw that stupid video. Summer could feel herself choking up and bit her lip.

‘Something, do something damnit! Anything is better than nothing!’ Her chest felt like fire and Jordan smiled as she knew what would happen next, only making Summer angrier. ‘Do anything but cry! Just-’

Her screaming thoughts were suddenly halted by the sting of Veronica flicking her arm. Her face showed severe annoyance at Summer.

Veronica:So what, you can fight with me all day but do nothing here? Could it be...you think I’m somehow beneath her!? The hell is up with that?

Jordan:The fact that you don’t realize that proves just how delusional-

Summer:Please, you’re way more insufferable Veronica. Jordan might as well be an ant with how basic she is- *covers mouth*

More “oooos” came from people chattering. That might’ve been the first time her classmates heard her say anything so...so rude. Jordan grit her teeth and clenched her first, definitely uncharted territory for Summer.

It might’ve been a good idea to leave, hell, maybe even apologize just to prevent further trouble, but the look Veronica gave her made it clear that wasn’t a choice. Not only wasn’t it smug, it pissed Summer off a little. Like hell she’d back down now!

Summer:I mean just look at her, all looks with no substance.

Veronica:I bet this bitch thinks she’s so smart. At least compared to you.

Summer:Hell no! I can sleep through half a test and still be ahead of her with her with how bad her grades are.

Veronica:Oh so she’s trying to get by on her looks? How pathetic.

Summer:Looks she bought too, or I should say her parents bought.

Jordan:Says who!?

Summer:You think no one would notice last year when you came back from spring break with a new nose? Or were you thinking everyone would focus on the boob job? Puberty doesn’t do all that in two weeks so you either found the gods, a ton of surgeons, or a godlike surgeon.

Jordan:*red* Like you’re one to talk about looks. Upset no amount of money could remove those hideous-

Veronica:So you admit to the surgery?

Jordan:Shut up bimbo!

Veronica:That sounds like hater talk.

Summer:Yeah at least Veronica is a natural beauty. I might wear a smidge of concealer but that’s nothing compared to you. Boring...

Veronica:You hate to see it, basic. Do you even fight? I don’t think I’ve ever read the name Jordan on any scoreboards. If pretty is your only trick then get a new one.

Jordan:Like someone like you is any better! Fighting or otherwise I bet I could-

“Lose.” A voice came from around the corner. Everyone turned their head to see Valerie still in her P.E. uniform and a little sweaty.

Her eyes focused on Veronica and immediately she was happy that running made her too tired to fight. That didn’t curve her attitude however, but it looked like that there was more than one annoying problem in this hallway.

Valerie:You’d lose Jordan. To me, to Summer, and most definitely Veronica Belladonna.

Veronica:Way to ruin my fun. I barely meet people stupid enough to be so racist to my face. It’s usually when they think I can’t hear them.

Multiple faces in the crowd looked a little uncomfortable after that statement.

Summer:Finish your laps finally?

Valerie:Hardy har. So, care to explain why not one but two insufferable bitches are causing a scene.

Veronica: “That bitch” you could at least calm me that instead of comparing me to that loser. Also shouldn’t you be showering, or home? You smell like the entire football team.

Valerie:Shouldn’t you be oceans away!? Why-

Veronica:*points to pin* Apparently the great kingdom of Atlas can’t organize events without spreading themselves too thin. I’m catching your slack. Nick is very grateful about it.

That sure ticked Valerie off. Maybe she wasn’t as tired as she thought. Veronica’s face was looking pretty punchable right now.

Valerie:Well good on you, being his little errand girl must make you feel like a winner huh?

Veronica:Keep talking shit and people won’t have to wait for a tournament to see you knocked on your ass.

Jordan:Umm-

“Shut up!” All three said sternly. Clearly Jordan had become nothing more than an afterthought. The crowd didn’t care who fought. Action was all that mattered.

Valerie wasn’t afraid to step up until her and Veronica were centimeters apart. Veronica showed no fear despite being the shorter girl. Giving into the impulse would be so easy right now. So...gratifying. Like an apex humbling what they saw as a beta. Veronica clenched her fist.

“HEY!” Another voice shouted, cutting through all the hostility of the hallway. The crowd split in half to show Eliza. Everyone could see embers and sparks twinkle around the girl, a clear sign she was ready to break up this altercation.

Eliza:Get.To.Class….or do you want to learn the difference between lightning dust and the real deal?

The crowd didn’t need to be told twice and scattered, even Jordan left. Valerie was given a dirty look that made her step away from Veronica while Summer found the nerve to the wall between Eliza and the other two.

Summer:Sorry! Things got out of hand because of me. I-

Eliza:I highly doubt that. Even if it’s true, our Vice President should learn how to keep the peace. And I expect a guest at our school to not cause any agitation in this already aggressive hornets nest.

Valerie:Pfft, she might as well be a baseball bat.

Veronica:I’ll swing a baseball bat upside your-

Eliza:Do you really want to keep arguing in front of me!? I swear if you three weren’t-ugh! Val, hit the showers. Summer if you aren’t going to lunch then I suggest you go over the numbers we need for the tournament.

Summer:I did that already.

Eliza:Yeah well I just went to our room and our guest has been reworking things so I would like our treasure to double check her work. It’s your money after all.

Summer:Alr-

Veronica:Ahem! aren’t you forgetting something?

Summer:...Right, I’ll get on that Eliza. Right after I get lunch, with milk.

Eliza:Ummm okay? As for you Ms. Belladonna… I’ll overlook this but remember Nick will be held somewhat accountable for everything you do. Good and bad, understand?

Veronica:..Crystal. And can you not call me that?

Eliza:As you wish. Now if you excuse me, I have practice to attend to.

As quickly as she showed up, Eliza left and took Valerie with her. Veronica let out a deep breath before turning to see Summer still standing around and looking right at her. All she could manage to do was give an awkward nod before heading to lunch. Obviously she wanted to say something but for some reason decided against it. A wise decision.

Veronica looked at the cuts in her own hands from clenching her fists to tight, her heart still pounding. Man, she really wanted a burger right now. Anything to sink her teeth in.

Part 15

#rwby #rwby twin snowflakes #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #val valkyrie #veronica belladonna #eliza marigold #flynt coal #harriet bree

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justskulkingaround · 4 years ago

Text

Puppets: V - Two Sides of a Coin

Russia woke up later to the sun was shining into the room and noticed America was nowhere to be seen. Sitting up, he rubbed his face and looked around to make sure America had really left the room. He stood up and saw a note left on the bedside table that said, 'I'm in my office,' in a swirling, sloppy handwriting. He picks it up and leaves the room.

Russia gives the door a few sharp knocks before opening it. America is on the phone with someone but still spared Russia a quick wave. Russia listened out of curiosity.

"Do you think you could come over and help?... Oh, thank God!... Yeah, Russia is staying over, and 'Nada is going to be coming with the Providences... Don't call me that!... Okay, I'll see you soon... Love you too, bye," and America hangs up the call.

"Who was that?"

"One of my brothers. He used to go by Confederacy, but now he just goes by Dixie."

"Confederacy? Was that the person you fought against in your civil war?"

"Yeah. He was the Confederate States of America, but the northern states didn't really respect him until he went by a different name: hence, Dixie."

"I thought personifications that lost civil wars were disintegrated."

"If I killed him, yeah. But I didn't kill him. I forced him to reform, though. Anyways, he's coming over to watch the states and providences once Canada gets here so that you, Canada, and I can try to figure out what's going on."

Russia nods. "When is Canada going to get here?"

"I'd say maybe a day or so." America answers, then, the doorbell rang, "or not. Hold on, I'll answer it."

Russia follows America to the door, and when America opens it, Canada walks in with 10 following children.

America greets them happily. "Hi, guys!" he exclaims.

"Hi, Uncle America!" the children chorus.

"Ontario!" someone yells from behind them, and the providences are pulled inside.

Canada calmly walks in behind them as the states began to play loudly with their cousins.

"Delaware," America calls.

"YEAH?" Delaware called from the main room.

"Could you watch your siblings and cousins for a few hours?"

"No problem, Dad!" he replied, his head poking around a bend before disappearing.

Then America turns to face Russia. "Come on. We have some important stuff to do."

Then the three countries walk upstairs to America's office. Russia is a little confused about what they will be doing up there but complies, following behind the brothers. Once inside, Russia closes the door, and America pulls a board out from a closet in the back of the room. After he spun it around, Russia is shown a world map with multicolored pins stuck in different places all over the world.

"What are the pins for?"

"The pins are to record anything related to... recent events. The red ones are for any disappearances, the green pins are for a vague estimation for where countries are, and the blue pins are for the locations of states and provinces. It's mostly to help see large groups in one area."

"Why are there blue pins in Australia?"

"Aussie has states too."

"Oh."

"You don't seem very surprised," America remarks with a chuckle.

"At this point, anything is possible," Russia replies with a shrug. America laughs.

Then there was a knock at the door, and Canada opens it to see California and Ohio standing in the hallway.

"Hey dad, we think Dixie is here, but with the whole monster thing going on..." Ohio says, trailing off.

"Don't want extra, like, risk," California adds.

America nods and pulls out his phone. A few moments pass.

"Go open the door for your uncle," America says, shooing them out.

Then, Virginia pokes her head into the office, "pops?"

"Yes, Virginia?"

"Just wanna let ya know that cots are all set up."

"Thank you. Alright, let's head downstairs and greet Dixie."

"Yay!" Virginia cheers and she hurries downstairs with Massachusetts on her tail. America begins to head downstairs, and Canada walks beside him. Russia decides to follow them. Once they get downstairs, they are surrounded by chaos, as loud talking and laughter ring out across the house.

Once they get in the main room, Russia sees a face that he thought should be dead. The personification standing in front of him had a design similar to America's flag, but with larger stripes and fewer stars. Dixie walks forward and pulls America into a hug.

"Howdy, Amy!" he shouts happily.

America rolled his eyes, but a smile still crept across his face.

"I thought I asked you not to call me that."

Dixie laughs loudly, moving to hold America by the shoulders.

"Why I ain't never heard such a thing!"

"D*ck," America muttered, arms crossed, but a smile still firmly planted on his face. Dixie only laughs louder, releasing America and greeting Canada with a playful smack on the shoulder.

After greeting the brothers, Dixie turns to Russia with a grin, sticking out a hand in greeting. "Howdy, I'm the former Confederacy, but 'cause that's a little outdated, y'all can call me Dixie."

"Nice to meet you, Dixie. I'm Russia," Russia replies, taking Dixie's hand into a handshake. Dixie enthusiastically shakes Russia's hand before heading into the kitchen, loudly discussing what he should make for dinner with the states which follow him.

Russia notices a few pieces of luggage at the end of one of the couches. After watching some of the states trip on, he moves it onto the nearby couch to avoid unnecessary damage from the nearby foot traffic.

Then, he sits down next to America on a couch, relaxing as the children ran around the main room, laughing and playing. The clanging of pots and pans and loud conversation echoes from the kitchen. The atmosphere reminds Russia of his old home when he and his siblings lived together with his father.

The television plays in the background, and Russia ignores what is being shown, watching the little kids around him until one of them latched onto his leg. Looking down, he makes eye-contact with Alaska.

"Hello," Russia greets. He gets a muffled response. Unsure of what else to do, he helps Alaska onto the couch, and Alaska curls up next to him, watching the cartoons on the television.

Then, the "dinner's ready" announcement echoes through the house. After a few moments of silence, a stampede shakes the house as states and provinces alike streamed out of rooms, running through hallways and pounding down staircases to reach the kitchen. It took a few minutes to get everyone served and seated. Then, before they ate, Dixie and some of the southern states say a quick prayer, and the states sounded off, followed by the providences.

While eating, Russia can't help but notice how Dixie interacts with people. He is always very loud, even louder than America at times, with a laugh that could be heard through walls. It was odd to see someone that seems more American than America, but Dixie represents America's southern region, so maybe it wasn't so weird. Russia ponders, eating quietly.

By the end of the meal, Russia had to admit that the pie was something he wouldn't miss out on again. Once dessert is over, the states devolve into yelling about helping with table jobs, which seemed to be after-meal chores. He could also hear Canada scolding his providences into helping clean up after the meal.

The rest of Russia's evening is spent in the main room, playing card games and watching television with Alaska tucked under his arm. There are worse places to be, Russia decides. He falls asleep that night feeling content, but he knows things can't stay like this forever.

#Puppets #writing #countryhumans

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efrmellifer · 4 years ago

Text

Célèbre

“You know, Etien, I still cannot believe you agreed to this, when it feels as though you only just returned from your year-long sojourn.”

“I’ve never been to a proper Ishgardian gala,” she replied, meeting Aymeric’s eyes in the mirror with a smile. “Well, I suppose excepting our wedding reception. So this would only be my second one.”

Aymeric laughed softly. “Then it would stand to reason that we had better make it special, hmm?”

“What do you mean?”

He settled his hands on her shoulders, his palms warm on her skin even after she’d soaked in hot water. “What did you plan to wear?”

“The dress from Starlight,” she replied, turning to look at him. “Did you have something different in mind?”

“I did,” he admitted. He stepped to his armoire, aware of Etien’s gaze on him, and peeled back a layer of linen over a garment hung there.

“Oh,” Etien breathed, only just audible where she sat. “My goodness.”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it. Ye gods, how long has this been here? How did I never find it?”

“Well, you aren’t prone to snooping, so that would explain it, I think.”

Etien giggled. “Fair enough. Can I put it on?”

“You may, though you might require some assistance, as it does lace up the back.”

“I could lace it up myself, I’m sure.”

“Let me help you? Please, Etien. I missed getting to do these simple things for you that one settles into in the everyday. We… have never really had an ‘everyday,’ have we?”

She exhaled sharply but quietly through her nose, rising from where she was seated before the mirror. “No, we haven’t. What was the longest we had? A fortnight? A moon?”

“Long enough to form habits to miss when it was over.” Aymeric sighed, handing the dress to Etien so she could get into it and do up the busks.

“That is the size of it.”

He watched her start at the bottom and work her way up, the boning conforming to her body as the dress took its proper form around her.

“Wow, it looks like the night—Aymeric.”

“Yes?”

She looked up at him, teeth glinting as a sly smile spread over her lips. “The night sky?”

He returned the smile, glad his thinking had been understandable to her. “After drawing the fabric of night across Norvrandt, I only thought it fair that you drape it over your body to conclude. It looks quite lovely.”

She looked down, examining the dress now that it was on her, considering the flecks of shimmering silver, stars in a bed of deep blue. The crystals accentuating her bust served much the same purpose, though despite their glint, they were more like clouds on the horizon.

She nodded in approval, stepping closer to Aymeric again and turning, offering the loose lacing to him.

“You’ll let me know the second it’s too tight, yes?”

“Yes, but I don’t think you can crush me more than the weight of—all right, ease up a little.”

With a little chuckle, he slackened the laces. “Better?”

“A little tighter, please.”

“Remember, you will want to dance.”

“Oh, will I?” She gave him an easy, amused smile. “I know. I just like the pressure that firm lacing brings. It feels more secure.”

Aymeric tugged the laces, holding them and slowly pulling them until Etien said with a nod, “Perfect.”

He tied the laces into a bow, commenting, “Not to mention, the guest of honor has to be resplendent.”

“Guest of honor?” Etien crinkled her nose slightly, striding across the room to grab her sapphire earrings.

“Indeed. Let me see what Estinien’s invitation to this event said.”

Etien paused in slipping the earring into her piercing. “Why do you have Estinien’s invitation?”

Without looking up, Aymeric answered. “He brought it here to ask me what I knew about this, and I had to tell him, as shockingly little as he did. But, this is how it reads. You are cordially invited to the Fortemps residence to join the family in celebrating the return of Etien Mellifer de Borel, champion of Ishgard and sister to Lord Artoirel, Count de Fortemps. Guests are also encouraged to offer their congratulations to her and her husband Ser Aymeric as they celebrate their first year of marriage.”

“Well, it’s been two, hasn’t it?” she asked, squinting to help herself remember as she scrutinized herself in the mirror.

“Only the Fury knows that, my dearest.”

A wistful look came over her. “Was it really a year ago?”

“It was. Though it feels longer when you recall that we spent a fortnight in the Black Shroud and we were called back to Ala Mhigo nearly as soon as our feet had touched the stones of the airship landing again.”

“Oh, right, and it was so cold when we got back.”

“A misfortune of the changing seasons.”

Etien responded in the affirmative with only a soft “Mm” in the back of her throat. The seasons. It felt like she hadn’t experienced a season in years. That was what had thrown her internal clock off the mark for so long after she’d started adventuring outside the greater Twelveswood.

Eventually, the systems of her body had adjusted to the new normal of traveling to and fro between wildly differing climes and locations, and she’d been learning to deal with that in its time, as well. And it was certainly better to do so here at home, where there was no gritting her teeth and pressing forward despite the sensations low in her belly, the flick of her tail a beckoning flag to anyone who could interpret the signal.

But she didn’t want just anyone. She wanted the man now holding out her fur-lined cloak to her, so they could step out and take the short walk to Fortemps Manor.

Not the Nuhn. Her husband.

Etien shrugged into the cloak, her earrings swaying where they dangled from her ears, and feeling suddenly both very mature and like she was playing dress-up in clothing that was too grown-up, too fancy for her.

As much as she had enjoyed how she looked in the mirror, as much as she liked wearing pretty dresses, being dressed now in something so fine, boned corsetry and crystal-studded netting, felt odd compared to the leather and metal layers of the armory.

But then, she didn’t want to always be the battle-maiden. She quite liked being a happy housewife, soft and in love. She even didn’t really mind being a noblewoman in title, even if it didn’t feel quite right.

She took Aymeric’s offered arm and let her chin lift in something akin to pride as they strode to the door and out into the crisply cold night. She could play this role as well as any other, frippery and furs the uniform of the high houses.

A cheer went up as Etien and Aymeric’s outerwear was taken, a few guests lifting their drinks and calling their greetings.

Etien’s ears moved to dip in embarrassment, but they flicked forward again as she fought the urge to be overly modest.

She waved to the people still looking at her, giving them as wide of a smile as she could manage. She slipped her hand into Aymeric’s, leading him away from the door.

“We had better go find, Artoirel, don’t you think?” she said, the look in her eyes shockingly urgent to him.

“Of course. Lead the way, if you think you know where he is.”

They found Artoirel and Emmanellain sitting together, Artoirel making his way through a story he didn’t seem to want to be telling, Emmanellain lounged boredly beside him.

Both looked up as the pair approached, overjoyed at the distraction to ease their respective burdens.

“Etien! I’m so glad you have arrived,” Artoirel said, taking her elbows to pull her closer and press a single kiss to her cheek. “You have saved me from the most dull conversation I may ever have had. Though I feel they may want to hear your stories now,” he told her, voice low so only she, Aymeric, and Emmanellain could hear him.

The three of them laughed. “Yes, it’s good to see you, too,” Etien replied. “Go, host your party. Hopefully I’m as good of a storyteller as I am an archer.”

“Is that not part of being a bard?” Emmanellain asked, sitting down again.

“Well—it is,” she began.

Emmanellain just chuckled as he took a sip of the wine he’d put down when she’d arrived.

“Were there no skirts you were seeking and pursuing?” she asked him, sitting down herself, smoothing the material of her dress over her knees, spine straight.

She ran through every story she could share without revealing so much of the truth—tales from the Crystarium, mostly, all the details removed so she had only traveled to “a distant city”—and could feel herself beginning to fade and falter.

For a blessing, again, someone approached the couch she was now perched on, having replaced Artoirel before.

And when she looked up to see who it was, she broke into a wide smile, more genuine than her earlier one.

She moved to rise, but was encouraged to stay seated as he approached, sliding his fingers under hers.

Estinien lifted Etien’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss just above her knuckles, so her wedding ring hit his chin. “Viscountess.”

“Estinien, please,” she murmured.

“Lady Borel, then.”

“Estinien,” she repeated, her voice slightly more affected.

“Etien. You look radiant. Let me guess, Aymeric picked that dress out?”

She looked down at the dress, admiring it again. “He did. Another winner. He dresses me so well.”

“Fine taste in wine, fine taste in a woman, and fine taste in her clothing, that’s our Aymeric.”

She looked up to see Aymeric blushing under their praise, trying to hide it in the crystal goblet Estinien had handed him. Her eyes crinkled and lip pulled back in a playful grin. “Truly.” She sighed, dropping her hands to her lap. “I tire of chatter.” She rose. “Can we dance, Aymeric?”

He stammered for a moment, handing over his glass and giving Estinien’s back to him, one in each hand. Then, he offered his hand for Etien to take, and lead him to the space cleared for dancing.

The hired musicians were playing a slower song, a waltz they were fond of, when Aymeric and Etien reached the dance floor. So it was even easier to flow with the music, natural as walking.

“Is this the first time we’ve danced since you came home?” Aymeric asked, tilting his head as they turned.

“Certainly for longer than a single boxstep as we maneuvered around each other,” Etien admitted. “We still don’t dance enough.”

“Hard to find the time, when the battlefield has to take precedence over the dance floor.”

“But not right now. Ghimlyt is quiet, Norvrandt is at peace, and the Coerthan night is cold and beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” Aymeric replied.

Etien’s eyes closed slowly, accompanied by a light sigh as she accepted the compliment. “I’m blessed to be welcomed home and celebrated by a loving family and in the treasured company of my darling husband. Anyone would look beautiful when they were so happy.”

“I’ve half a mind to kiss you right now.”

“And why not the whole mind, ser?”

Laughing, Aymeric drew her closer and bent to kiss her.

It was a quick, chaste thing, and yet a whisper and a whoop went through the guests assembled. Caught.

Etien giggled, lifting a hand to her lips as they both stepped back, putting some distance between their bodies.

“There are some things which are somehow never acceptable,” Aymeric sighed. “Shall we continue this elsewhere?”

“That was why not the whole mind, wasn’t it?” she asked as they scampered down a hallway.

“I don’t suppose we can fault people for holding onto social rules that don’t cause anyone any real harm,” he said with a light shrug, moving closer to the window they stood before, watching the night sky mirror Etien’s gown in a darker, more wintry shade. “It likely will become something of the city-state’s quirk, eventually a value of the elderly that the youth ignore despite being chastised, and then someday, be gone completely. Perhaps that will be the sign we’re fully a part of the Alliance.”

“I refuse to make a habit of asking about Alliance politics, when I’m only there to offer my feet-on-the-ground perspective to half the leaders attending, but are you not already an integrated part? After all that to-do before the Sultana’s banquet, and then after Azys Lla? I admit, I was fairly distracted in both circumstances, but I could have sworn… and if they insist on dragging three-quarters of the Congregation out every time a cannon goes off--”

“Etien,” Aymeric said quietly, taking her hand. “I know I started it, but we aren’t here to speak of the Alliance. We’re here to celebrate that you’re finally, finally home. And, to people who paid attention, to rejoice in the anniversary of our union.”

“Right,” she replied, voice soft as her gaze turned from the window to their threaded hands between them. “Happy anniversary, darling.”

“There’s no poetry already written or that I could compose now that would fully capture how this last year—these last two years, the three years I’ve had the privilege to know you—have been the most joy-filled of my life, for all the hell we’ve seen within them. I only wish we had ever gotten to spend much time together in that span.”

“What, stolen moments in your office and long weekends of me pretending I was your average runaway-turned-immigrant to Ishgard weren’t enough?”

“No,” he admitted. “I accept it, because all the time I get to have with you is precious, and because we both have the pressure of our acquired positions, but… sometimes I do wish we were ‘normal’. That we didn’t have to pretend.”

Etien was silent for a while, the mix of moonlight and distant lighting of the house making her eyes glisten—or perhaps that was a result of held-back tears. She blinked twice rapidly and then gave her response. “Me too.”

Far away on the dance floor, the music swelled, and with it, Aymeric’s heart. Despite the world and the myriad duties they had to fulfill in it pulling them apart, how many moments had they had like this? Where it was just the two of them, ensconced in their own little world where the stars shone only for them?

He could think of a few times, and in them, he had always felt so alive. Alive and in love, there with Etien and knowing that no matter what happened in the next moment, who needed them and what had to be done, those moments were theirs. And they were spending them together, wanting to be nowhere else.

If he had to steal them, then he would be the best thief the world had ever seen.

“You know,” he mused, trying desperately to lighten the mood and make up for bringing it so low, “out there, they can stop us from expressing our affection, but when it’s just the two of us, and we are supposed to be celebrating…”

Etien took a second, but then she gave him a grin, the one that made her eyeteeth glimmer in the moonlight. “When could they ever really stop us?”

She rubbed his thumb while they still held hands, then let him pick her up and met his lips with her own eagerly, one hand cupping his cheek, fingers catching stray strands of his hair between them, and the other arm slung over his shoulders. The typical position for when he held her aloft like that, attempting to support some of her own weight, but trusting him enough that she didn’t need to worry about letting her legs hang unsupported. She didn’t scrabble for purchase. He had her, as he always had her.

They broke for breath, and when she’d had her fill of air, she spoke. “I didn’t get to say it before, foolishly choosing to joke, but I want to make sure it’s said. I was nervous the day we met, even though Haurchefant told me I had nothing to worry about. I don’t think he had any idea what the years held for us, but he was right regardless. These have been three of the longest years of my life, but it’s like I said in my letters. A life with you is better than any alternative. I want slow years with you, so I can savor the time… rare though it is.”

“It won’t always be.”

“That’s what I’ve been praying for.”

“I intend to make it so, sooner rather than later.”

“Oh, please do,” she breathed, pulling him in again for a more heated kiss.

They separated when they heard footsteps, but it was too late.

Estinien had taken in the tableau, familiar though it was, in some ways. Etien’s right ear visible to the side of Aymeric’s head, a leg hooked over his hip, one exposed silver pump glinting in the dim light.

And then, the sheepish expressions, until they saw who it was that had come to them.

“I had come to bring you your abandoned wine, Aymeric,” Estinien began, “but I see you’re drinking deep of something else.”

“Aye, well…” he cleared his throat. “You’re welcome to join us, if you can keep quiet.”

“Oh, not a peep,” he assured the couple. “I cannot say I wouldn’t have been more shameless if it had been me.”

“It can be,” Etien said. “Would you say we’ve been here long enough, Aymeric? I never know how much time needs to pass before we look rude.”

“We had better take another turn talking to people,” he said with a near groan, taking his wine from Estinien. “Then we can leave. Bag up some celebration to bring home.”

Etien giggled, hooking her arms through both Aymeric’s and Estinien’s for a moment, before they went back into the party.

She would certainly be more a lively guest with that to look forward to.

#fic #Aytien #Wyrmelliferel #suggestive but not like...#please do not expect me to use accents properly in titles XD

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antagonisms · 4 years ago

Text

a self-para, and parting gift, for my second-favourite korean

trigger warnings for: allusions to domestic and child abuse

general warnings for: evan being a dick

“This is her, right?”

Evan’s gaze flits to Connor’s phone screen. There’s a photo of a woman sitting cross legged on a piano stool, back turned against the keys.

“Yeah,” Evan tells him. “That’s my mom.”

“You look alike,” Connor says.

Evan laughs. “I know.” And it’s a nice thing, half the time, that he can look at the mirror and not see Rina’s husband instead. Lord knows he doesn’t want to be reminded of a pain that’s been buried. Still, there’s some pain seeing Rina’s face reflected, too — when the distance between past and present elongates, even the best memories turn bitter.

This is what they discovered about Rina Watanabe: She abandoned her ex-husband’s surname. She runs a semi-popular music store slash studio and still teaches basic piano to little kids. She abandoned the rolling mountains of Blackrock for the sepia-toned city of Cheyenne, Wyoming, which is apparently a real place that people live in and not just a state Eisenhower invented to add more stars to the flag. It’s also nine hours away from Montana by bus.

This is what Evan discovered about Connor Park: He cares enough to take him there.

He also knows Evan well enough to offer the window seat. Knows Evan well enough to inch away even if the seats are small and the bus is already pretty cramped. He knows Evan well enough not to say anything when Evan’s eyes, still lingering on his mother’s photo, turn downcast with the rest of his expression.

Of course, he reminds himself, Connor’s been through the same shit, so he has the decency not to pity him.

The rest of the bus ride is quiet. Behind the window, Wyoming’s rolling fields blur into long yellow lines. The mountains get smaller and bluer with distance. Connor’s listening to music on his phone. His fists are balled into his lap, and his expression is tight in a way that makes Evan suspect that he’s less focused on whatever he’s listening and more focused on a question running through his mind, like he wants to ask Evan something but doesn’t know where to start.

Evan realizes he wants to ask Connor things too. Wants to keep his mind away from his absent mother and the hole she left — wants to ask about the similar-shaped hole Connor might have, what’s the system like, do you remember your mom, how long have you and your brother been fighting, do you remember being a kid?

Instead he taps at his ear, gestures for Connor to pull an earphone out. When Connor does, Evan asks, “What are you listening to?”

Connor hands over the other earphone. “Do you wanna hear it?”

Evan takes it. It’s a Frank Ocean song, likely from Evan’s lost years, because it’s not anything he’s heard before. Still, the mellowness is familiar enough that a wave of wistfulness settles on his chest. There’s nothing out the window but vast space, so Evan looks at Connor, and right on that beat Frank Ocean croons, it’s quite alright to hate me now.

Maybe all Connor wants is for Evan to have the closure he and Noah never got. It’s too late to tell him that it’s not worth the effort — Evan’s not worth the effort — and what kind of person does this, anyway? What kind of person exhausts themselves to make sure another person doesn’t feel the pain that they’d felt? Evan furrows his brows. He imagines Connor, five years old, sat on a swing set waiting for a mother that wouldn’t come back. He imagines himself, twelve years old, staring at a window and waiting for a car that would never return.

The same story, different endings. Evan gets his heart broken and keeps the pieces to himself. Connor gets his heart broken and offers the pieces to other people. The comparison fucking stings. For a fleeting moment, he considers berating himself for being so goddamn selfish, but then he tells himself that, you know what, maybe it was neither of their fucking faults. There are versions of themselves that could have been kinder had they simply been afforded the privilege of being loved. A version of Evan where he isn’t too guarded. A version of Connor where he isn’t too insecure.

He imagines them then, as children, their hearts full and whole and unbroken. Evan’s much taller at six years old than Connor is at five, so when Connor sits at the swings his legs are still too short to kick himself up high enough. It’s the make-believe Evan that stands behind the swing, grabs it by the chains, and pulls. When he lets go, Connor soars.

Right on time, Frank Ocean sings, we’ll never be those kids again.

ii.

In the music store in Wyoming, there’s a small child. Her face looks like Evan’s. A near splitting image of his eight-year-old self. Evan watches her run up to the woman leaning by the cash register, gives her a kiss on the cheek and says, I’ll see you at home, Mom.

Then his eyes find the woman at the counter. Evan knows that posture. Relaxed shoulders, elbows propped on a surface behind her, back leaning, entirely graceless and casual. She waves goodbye to her child as her mouth splits into a smile, a fondness Evan doesn’t realize is familiar until his heart sinks to his chest.

Mom.

Evan takes a breath.

Connor faces him. Evan can feel the concern in his eyes even without looking. “You don’t have to do this now,” he says, and he’s right, because they’re both still exhausted from the bus ride. “There’s still time tomorrow.”

Evan shakes his head. “I’m good.”

Hands slide into his pockets. He doesn’t break his gaze from the woman, who has yet to notice him, too busy throwing her head back in laughter as she gets lost in her conversation with the man at the counter. She looks happy. Happier than she ever was at home. If any painful feeling arises from that, Evan keeps it buried.

He drags his feet toward her. His heart feels heavy. This is a bad idea, he thinks, but he doesn’t stop walking until Rina turns her head and stops at the sight of him.

Her eyes widen. Her mouth opens, then closed. She looks at him the same way most people in Blackrock do, at least after the lost years. Like the can’t tell if the man they’re looking at is anything more than a ghost.

Evan wills himself to smile at her. “Hey.”

She smiles back, startled and painfully forced. “Can I help you?”

“Mom.” His voice drifts with the softest sort of desperation. “It’s me.”

She blinks. Her gaze won’t meet his. There’s shame evident in her eyes — which, if he were crueler, might make him feel better about all this, but now all it does is stab a knifelike pain through his chest.

Her lips press into a thin line. If he remembers her correctly — and he probably doesn’t — it means she’s fumbling her mind for words. Her eyes finally meet his, and when her mouth opens, the words are slow to come out.

“Do you,” she asks, “want to talk outside?”

Now, it’s Evan’s turns to pause. “Sure.”

Connor’s standing by one of the drum sets, one finger tracing the circumference of a cymbal. He stops when he catches Evan’s gaze. Evan mouths, I’ll be right back and waits for Connor’s nod before following Rina out the door.

Outside, Rina fishes a pack of Marlboros from her pocket. She leans against the wall and plucks a light out of the box. Head turning to him, she says, “Do you smoke?”

Evan purses his lip. “Kind of.”

She hands him the cigarette in her hand and picks out another for herself. It’s silent, mostly, when she takes out her lighter and sets the tail end aflame. Evan doesn’t ask her to light his. It seems that she, too, forgets to offer.

She takes a drag. A long one. Only when she huffs the smoke out does she face him again. “You’ve grown.”

“I mean,” Evan says. “It’s been a while.”

Rina sighs. Evan can’t tell where the frustration is directed: herself, or him. Her brows crease and form a worry line. “I’m sorry — I just. I thought you were—”

Evan cuts her off. “I’m here now. The girl in the store earlier. Is she your—”

“She’s my daughter.” Even if guilt drips through her voice, the words are a gut punch.

He’s been playing the same made up story in his head since he was twelve. Sometimes she comes up in his dreams. It starts without awkwardness. They speak about everything and nothing until the conversation’s strong enough to carry the heavy shit — the questions he couldn’t ask and the answers she failed to give. At twenty-seven, his mind rewrites the story. First, she’ll asks, where have you been, and whatever flippant excuse he might give for his disappearance won’t matter, because she’ll throw her arms around him and say that she missed him, say that she’s sorry she ever left him behind.

But she doesn’t ask him where he’s been. She asks, “Why did you come here?”

And here’s where he starts to regret asking for a light. Grief wells at his chest, pushing his heart to his throat. I had some questions I wanted to ask you, he should say, but his impatience gets the best of him, pushing the words out too soon. “Did you—” And he shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t ask questions he doesn’t want to know the answers to. “When I disappeared, did you — did you look for me?”

Rina looks down.

She folds her arms. It makes her posture look more closed, like she’s putting space between them. “I tried. I tried very hard, for a year.” Rina wraps her arms tighter around herself. Her head hangs low. “I just — I had my obligations here, so I had to—”

“You gave up hope,” Evan says.

She tilts her head up slightly, to face him. There’s very little resentment in his eyes, but she still seems to shrink under his gaze. “But you’re alright now, aren’t you?”

It’s tempting to snort at that question. Six years, Evan things. Nobody had seen him for six years. “I’m getting by,” he says, voice flat. “Dad’s dead. You probably already knew, though.”

“I’m sorry,” she says.

The laugh he tears out of his throat is small and dark. “Come on. Don’t lie. We both wanted him gone.”

And maybe his expression’s gotten darker, because his mother’s shrinking deeper and deeper inside of herself. “It must have been hard, still.”

“It was harder when he was alive.” Evan steadies his voice. He knows he doesn’t need to say more than this. But the anger wrenches at his chest, and the bitterness leaks through his words. “You know, everything he did to you, he did to me.”

Her face is all heartbreak and shame. Not the strong-willed mother he once knew. Or maybe she was just louder in the house because she needed to be. He used to think neither of them gained anything from living in that shitty manor, but maybe, in the cruelest sense, it was a learning experience. Rina learned to fight back, and when she couldn’t, she learned to run. Evan learned to take a hit.

“I’m sorry.”

Evan scoffs. “I mean, it’s cool.” His voice is a calm and wretched sound. “Did you know bones get stronger after you break them? They have to adapt after the fracture. Become more resilient to stress. I think I feel invincible now. You can put me in Guinness records for world’s best pain tolerance.”

He imagines himself, on a swing set, waiting. Hang on. That’s not right. He imagines himself, at a piano, waiting. He imagines this small girl, at a piano, Rina holding her small hands, guiding her fingers along the keys. He imagines this girl, a bruise on her neck in the shape of a man’s hand. Wait. That isn’t right either.

He imagines himself, twelve years old, sitting shotgun at Rina’s car, watching Montana blur past them. Rina turns the radio up and tells him to sing with her, so he does; he sings and stares at the road ahead and smiles bright even if — or maybe because — he has no idea where they’re headed. He imagines a life where she saves him. He imagines a life where neither of them have to heal.

“I’d understand it,” she finally says. “If you hated me.”

Evan’s face falls. “I never hated you.” He drags a sigh out of his throat. “I just — I don’t know. I guess I just wished you loved me.”

iii.

He’s fine. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like he didn’t expect this. Did he get his hopes up a little? Maybe. But it’s not something he can’t survive. That’s what he’s good at, right? Surviving. He survived broken bones, a broken home, a broken life. He can survive a broken heart.

Connor shuts the door of the motel room and leans against the wall. Good. He knows when to keep his distance. But Connor opens his mouth, because of course he has to say something, and immediately, Evan thinks, this is going to get ugly.

“If you need me—”

Evan says, “I don’t need you.”

“—I’m here.”

This is going to get ugly.

“Thanks,” Evan says.

Connor looks so small like this. When Evan meets his eyes, Connor’s gaze flits away. Maybe that pisses him off. Things are fine, right? So Connor should be a better friend and act like things are fucking fine.

But maybe Evan wants Connor to open his mouth again, say something stupid, cross a line. Don’t take it personally. His anger’s just a ticking time bomb and it just so happens that Connor’s within the blast zone.

“It was hard too. When me and Noah found out that our—”

Evan laughs. “How’s that hard? It’s not like you actually knew her.”

“Our mom,” Connor continues, and Evan can tell that it’s getting harder for him to stop himself from getting angry. “She had a new family, too. I’m just trying to say that I get it.”

Evan’s mouth splits into a wry smile. “Projecting. That’s always fun, isn’t it?”

“Evan,” Connor warns.

“Maybe that’s why you brought me here. Couldn’t fix your fucked family relationships, so maybe fixing mine’s enough of a compensation.” Evan puts a hand on his chest. “Your thoughtfulness knows no bounds. Thank you, Connor.”

Connor narrows his eyes. There’s a flicker of something dangerous in his gaze. “You asked me to take you here.”

“I said thank you, didn’t I? I think it’s real nice of you to keep putting in so much effort as if it’s ever done anyone any good.” Evan’s mouth curls into a sneer. “Persistence. I like that in a man.”

Connor frowns. “I’m gonna take a smoke outside. Don’t talk to me until you’re done throwing a tantrum.”

“Oh, nice.” A wry laugh leaves Evan’s lips. “Connor Park’s walking away from someone. Isn’t it usually the other way around?”

That gets Connor to flinch.

His eyes meet Evan’s. “Look, I get that you’re hurting, but don’t you dare take it out on me.” A sigh leaves his throat, frustrated. “All I fucking wanted was to do something nice for you.”

“I’m not,” Evan strains to say, “hurting.”

“Like I said.” Connor’s gaze doesn’t break from his. “I get it. I’ve been there.”

“You really think we’re the same, huh?” Evan folds his arms. Under Connor’s stare, his body feels very close to shattering. Still, he keeps his voice tight. “You don’t know me. You don’t know half of what I’ve been through.”

“Can you stop acting like you’re the only person who’s gone through shit?” Connor snaps, with a fire that almost gets Evan to smile. “Look, fine. I don’t know what happened to you. But I know—”

“What do you know?”

“—that you like to lash out when you’re upset.”

“Go on,” Evan says, sharp and venomous. “I’d like to know more.”

There’s a glint of cautiousness in Connor’s eyes. For a fleeting second, Evan expects silence, suspects that Connor is afraid of saying the wrong thing, as he always is. Connor opens his mouth anyway. “You’re pushing me away so you can prove that I don’t really understand you. Because you don’t want to be helped. Because you want to hurt yourself. Or Because—”

Connor pauses. His eyes meet the ground. Evan’s voice goes tight. “Because what, Connor?”

A breath escapes him. Connor finally tears his gaze away. “You don’t want people taking care of you. Because then they’ll have the power to hurt you.”

Jesus. Connor Park is so fucking smart.

“Or maybe I just don’t want you taking care of me,” Evan snaps. “I’m starting to think that maybe you like that I’m damaged.”

“Why the fuck would I like that?”

Evan started this fight; he’s not about to lose it, not even when his legs feel weak and his heart wants to leap out of his throat. “Why else?” he asks, but it’s not really a question. “Can’t solve your own problems? Why not throw yourself into someone else’s. You think that if you save me you can save yourself from having a nonexistent sense of fucking self-esteem. But guess what? I’m not you fucking project, Connor. So stop trying to fix me because I’m not fucking broken.”

Connor’s face falls. He looks more hurt than angry. “I don’t,” he says, “think you’re broken.”

Evan knees collapse from underneath him.

His hands ball into fists at his lap. His eyes fall shut when he lowers his head, body keeling forward, mouth falling open as his heart dredges from his throat a scream that comes out soundless. His lip quivers. Small, unwanted dew drops form at the corners of his eyes and spill into the floor.

There are versions of themselves that could have been kinder to one another had their lives been kinder to them. “We deserved better,” he says, because it’s a lot easier to say than I’m sorry. It’s true, anyway. His mind runs through the same sentence, again and again and again — we deserved better. We deserved better. We deserved better.

Or maybe he’s very close to proving that he’s capable of being crueler than his past. It’s just Connor that deserves better. Deserves more than an absent mother the set of transient homes she’d doomed him to, deserves better than a friend who gives him a verbal beating for — what? Doing exactly what Evan asked?

Guilt, useless and cloying, floods at Evan’s chest, punishing him for wanting comfort. Evan’s never been good at asking for help. Connor’s never been good at giving it, or perhaps that’s because he gives too much — and Evan would like to ask, now, but what right does he have? An apology is owed and he’s too much of a coward to give it.

Connor still kneels down in front of him.

Evan holds his head up. Looks at Connor, watches as reluctance and concern flickers in the other’s eyes. Cautious as always. Evan loved and hated that about him. He moves closer, wraps his arms around Evan, pulls him close to his chest. Against his own self-scrutiny, Evan buries his face into the crook of Connor’s neck.

Evan’s shoulders drop down. His breathing remains shaky and jagged, but it slows as Connor’s arms fold around him. His grip tightens, but it doesn’t hurt. That’s funny.

“If you let me take care of you,” Connor says, “I promise — I am not going to hurt you.”

Evan’s voice goes very quiet. “Don’t let go, then,”

“Okay,” Connor tells him. “Okay.”

iv.

The bus ride back to Blackrock is mostly quiet. It’s a night ride though, so Evan’s exhausted, and not even Frank Ocean’s crooning can keep him awake. He drifts off, eyes fluttering drowsily when he turns to Connor, mouth falling open, as if to say something. To ask for something. No sound comes out, but still, Connor lifts a hand and guides Evan’s head down his shoulder. Something warm fills Evan’s chest. He’s not sure what to call the feeling, but it’s quite a special thing, when someone knows exactly what you need, and you don’t even have to ask. Evan’s head stays on Connor’s shoulder for the whole drive home.

#dw ive been given permission to use connor for this One thing #depression is depressing i can only write sad things #self para.#emotional beats? what are Thoooose

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theroguequeenaniki · 5 years ago

Photo

I have a LOT more pictures and videos, but for this post, here are ten. (A lot of the pictures that I haven’t posted are blurry, but still great for memories, lol.)

Here is my fan-account/post about this weekend when I saw Tiffany Young in Dallas!

Friday November 15th 2019 - Sunday November 17th 2019

Whoo! A lot has happened this weekend! It was a very fun weekend, lol.

I went to Dallas with my sister, and one of my best friends, Raven ( @snek-and-angle), for a concert.

Friday November 15th 2019

Day before the concert.

On Friday I didn’t do a lot, mostly spent the day in great anticipation, and I packed, and did my nails, and all that. My brother and his girlfriend informed us they weren’t able to come to Dallas with us, so that’s the main reason I’m writing it here. B/c I’m using it as an introduction. Initially, this trip was going to be me, my friend Raven, my sister, my brother, and his girlfriend. But, last minute it ended up just being me, Raven, and my sister. But we still took my brother’s car. (He and my sister traded for the weekend, lol) So, yeah. I went to bed late b/c I was up packing. Lol.

Saturday November 16th 2019

Day of the concert.

My sister and I got up early, I got up at like 8a, she’d been up for a little while, lol. Raven had messaged me she was up at like 7a. So, we got dressed, made sure we had everything we needed, I grabbed a beverage (my usual cherry coke lol), we said bye to our parents (who were still in bed lol), and the cats, and hit the road. First stop was picking up Raven. We picked her up and then we officially were on our way to Dallas!

We made one stop along the way, and that was at Buc-ees, b/c, well, we needed gas, plus, it’s Buc-ees. Lol. So, we got our gas, and also grabbed a snack. I got a chicken caesar salad and a pepsi icee. Then we drove the rest of the way to Dallas. We made really good time, and got there like 1 ½ hours before Check-in for our Hotel. So, we went to see if we could check in early, we couldn’t, b/c they didn’t have any King Suites available yet, but they allowed us to check our bags, and told us they’d call or text if our rooms were ready before 3p. So, we went to do a little exploring. There was a small park by our hotel, that had some Christmas decorations. We also popped into a Starbucks, but my sister & I didn’t get anything, only Raven did. We were going to chill there for a while, but..they closed. Lol. So, we went back to the park, and sat on a bench, and just did people and dog watching, chatting, and playing on our phones. Lol. Some kids came up selling bags of M&M’s for a $1, my sister and I declined, but Raven bought some (she loves M&M’s lol).

Our rooms weren’t ready before 3p, so at 3p we went back to the hotel, but only my sister’s room was ready. So, we got our bags, and went up to her room. We hung out in there, and I actually started to get ready for the concert, b/c our room was taking too long, lol. My outfit was a black lacy top, black leggings, and a maroon skirt, along w/ black boots. (Though at this point I was still wearing my tennis shoes lol)

My sister and I finally went down to see if our room was ready, and it was. So I got the room keys, and went back up, and Raven and I went to our room to finish getting ready.

Our hotel was Hotel Indigo, it was a pretty fancy hotel, located in Downtown Dallas, it stands where the Historic Dallas Opera house used to be. It was really nice and I loved it, but I think we felt a little out of place, lol. Anyway, we had two King Suites. One for my sister (which she was going to share w/ my brother & his girlfriend, but they didn’t come) and one for me and Raven. They were nice, they had a living room and a bedroom, a flat screen in both rooms, a really nice bathroom, a keurig, and a mini fridge. Mine and Raven’s suite was actually a little bigger lol.

So, once we were finally in our room, we finished getting ready. I did my hair(pig tails, w/ black and white bows, w/ metal buttons from Hot Topic, lol), makeup (literally just bb cream & lip gloss lol), put on jewelry(bangles, a cat ring on both ring fingers, my Buffy ring on my left ring finger and my ring from Sarah Rees Brennan on my right ring finger (yes, I wore two rings on each finger lol), I prepared my bag(tickets, id, money, lightstick, camera, portable phone chargers, etc), I put on my black boots, and then my sister met us at our room, and we went to dinner.

We went to a place called Zenna, which served Thai and Japanese food. And it just so happened to be Happy Hour, so I had a California roll and it was very good. We also had some edamame, and some spring rolls (which were some of the best spring rolls I’ve ever had). For my entree I had Teriyaki Chicken w/ fried rice, it was really good. I also had a coke for my drink. It was a really cool restaurant. Our waiter was also pretty cool, lol. We couldn’t finish our food, b/c there was so much, so we took the leftovers back to the hotel. (Leftovers I am currently eating while writing this post, lol) Raven and I then grabbed the things we’d forgotten, and then went back downstairs to get an uber and head to the venue. (My sister went back up to her room b/c she wasn’t going to the concert lol)

We took our uber to the venue, the guy literally got out of the car and opened the door for us, like a chauffer lol. (Raven followed along the route on her phone for as long as her phone would let her, and I followed it on google maps, I also texted my sister when we got in the uber, and when we got to the venue, for safety, always be cautious, you guys). And then stood in line for about an hour until doors opened at 7pm. We only had general admission tickets, so we didn’t get to meet Tiffany (this time, I’m hoping to get VIP the next time she tours, b/c I’m sure she’ll tour again, lol). The line wrapped around the side of the venue. It was cold, I brought my jacket, as I was wearing a lacy top, Raven had decided not to bring hers, b/c she was wearing a sweater, and we weren’t going to be outside very long. We ended up sharing my jacket back and forth, lol. A girl came around the line passing out glow sticks, we took them, but then after a while realized we didn’t want them, so we gave them to the people behind us, who were very happy to get them, b/c we’d gotten the last two. Some guys walked by offering “free hugs” and “free hugs from an Englishman” or something, Raven and I ignored them, lol. Once doors were open, the line moved pretty quickly, and we were inside by 7:04p. lol.

Once inside, we headed straight for the merch booth. I bought a tour t-shirt, the pen, and the photocard & stand set. Raven bought a lightstick. (I had my Girls’ Generation molar bong lol) Raven then bought a beer, and we went to find a place to stand, we were near the back. We took a pictures of our lightsticks together, and I was starting to accept that I would probably have a hard time seeing the stage, when the staff opened up the stairs to the balcony. Luckily, we were right by the stairs, so we booked it up there, and got a spot right on the railing, and I had a perfect view of the stage. (With a column blocking only a very small portion of the stage) I was right by the trash can, but it didn’t bother me (there wasn’t anything smelly in it) and it meant that there was no one but Raven beside me. Some girls asked Raven about her light stick, b/c it was the Tiffany Young one. Raven went down to buy another drink, and she bought me a coke. (B/c there was a $10 minimum & she needed to close out her tab lol) I took a few sips.

Then.

The show was starting. I had my lightstick in one hand, my camera in the other, and my coke at my feet (it was a bottled one lol). Everyone was chanting “TIFFANY! TIFFANY! TIFFANY!” the pink ocean below me was beautiful (I was part of a smaller pink ocean up top, but, of course, we were really all one pink ocean lol) Tiffany came out on stage dressed in sparkly blue shorts and a white top, white boots, blue lacy gloves, and a cowboy hat a fan had given her at the VIP Meet & Greet. I was floored. I was in awe. I was crying. I was screaming. I was singing. There in front of my eyes, in person, was the real life Tiffany Young of Girls’ Generation. I wasn’t looking at a screen, I was looking at the real Tiffany. She was singing Run For Your Life and I was so excited. I was filming, then I was taking pictures. She performed Over My Skin next. I’m not going to list the full set-list, b/c I can’t remember the order, and I can’t remember the names of some of the cover songs, lol. I didn’t film most of Run For Your Life and Over My Skin b/c I was taking pictures. Talk as well. I mastered, somewhat, the art of watching her on stage, and not looking at my camera, but keeping my camera on her. A few times it panned down to the audience, but, I mean, I was dancing and waving my lightstick and living in the moment! Because Tiffany Young was in front of me on stage putting on an amazing show and I was so so happy! Every song was more exciting, I didn’t touch my phone for 2 hours! I barely noticed how much my feet hurt (Raven and I both wore heeled boots, b/c they make our outfits look cool, and they make us taller, lol) I was living in the moment, I was seeing one of my idols, live and in person, for the very first time, after TEN YEARS of being a Sone. I was moved. It was..it was magnificent. I loved every second of it. I filmed most of the concert, though. Every song she performed, I just about died. Run Devil Run. Heartbreak Hotel. Teach You. All of them. I loved them all. She talked about how amazing we all are, and how much she loves us. She talked about mental health, and how important it is to take care of yourself, and to take care of those around you. She told us to let those we love and appreciate know we love and appreciate them. She interacted w/ us, and answered questions. She pointed out a fan w/ a rainbow flag. It was wonderful. It was magnificent. When the show ended, it felt like no time had passed, and I wanted it to go on forever! She came back out for the encore, and performed Magnetic Moon and Run For Your Life (again, I got it in full this time). And right as Run For Your Life ended, my camera died! Lol. I managed to get it back on to snap a few more picture, and then I put it away.

After the concert.

Once she had left the stage, and it was clear the show as over, Raven and I took some selfies, trying to get the stage behind us. And then staff told us they were closing off this section. So, I grabbed my coke from the floor, and we went back downstairs. We took a few more selfies, then tested Raven’s phone to see if we could order an uber, we could not b/c her phone wouldn’t come back on. So, we decided to use mine and order a lyft (b/c for some reason I had the lyft app already downloaded, even though I’d never used it before lol) We went outside, and it was freezing. We stood w/ the crowd by her tour bus for 20 minutes, while I tried to figure out the lyft app, and also hoping she would come out sooner rather than later..she didn’t come out before we left. But Raven was freezing, and our feet were killing us. So, we left to find one of the streets Lyft was telling us to go to. We found it, I ordered the lyft, and then we were on our way back to our hotel. (I texted my sister when we got in the lyft, and followed the route on both the lyft app, and google maps, for safety precautions) Once back at the hotel, I asked the front desk for some cutlery, so we could go up and eat our leftovers from dinner. Raven ate hers, but I only ate a few bites of mine, b/c it was cold and we didn’t have a microwave, lol. We went back down to the lobby in our pjs and bought powerades, lol. I made sure most of my stuff was packed, so the next morning wouldn’t be difficult, finished my powerade, brushed my teeth (and washed off my bb cream & lip gloss lol), had a bit of an issue when a very small cut started bleeding..but I dealt with it, it was fine. Lol. Then, we then watched some Holiday Baking competitions on the food network in bed, and then went to sleep. At least, she went to sleep, I was awake for longer than I wanted to be, b/c some of our neighbors were having a real good time, if you get what I mean. I also had a bit of a headache, which I assume was from the concert, b/c of the super loud music, and probably the crash from the adrenaline rush of the concert. I did eventually get some sleep though.

We did make one fatal mistake that night, part of the reason are feet were killing us at the concert is because..we wore the boots to dinner. We knew we were going to go back to the hotel after dinner, b/c we weren’t going to let my sister walk back alone, and we had things to get from the room, but we wore our boots anyway. So, our feet were already dead before we even left for the show.

Sunday November 17th 2019

Day after the concert.

I had set an alarm for 9:30a, so we woke up then. I actually set the alarm sound as Run For Your Life, b/c obviously. Lol. We got up, my feet were so sore, but so were my legs. I have a blister on one of my toes, lol. My sister texted saying to tell her when we were awake and ready to go. I told her we were awake, and we’d be ready soon. We got dressed and finished packing, I started drinking my coke from the night before (cause caffeine, also it surprisingly wasn’t flat! Lol). I took the shampoo & conditioner, and the lotion, b/c they were Rosemary Mint scented. Lol. I wore my Magnetic Moon Tour t-shirt, b/c of obvious reasons. I did not wear the boots, I probably won’t wear those boots for quite a while. Lol. We made sure we had everything all packed, and then we left the hotel at 10:30a.

We went back to the parking garage, and I was confused b/c I was looking for my sisters car, even though we came in my brothers. Lol.

Then, we went to a Japanese dollar store called Daiso, b/c we don’t have them here in Austin. It was so cool, and most things were $2. I ended up getting a cat fan, a purple erasable pen, a notebook, a pair of pink heart shaped glasses (like the ones from Taylor Swift’s You Need To Calm Down video, lol). I also bought some soda flavored hi-chews that are fizzy (Raven says they’re really good), some cookies & cream pejoys. A Meiji Black Chocolate bar. A Dars white chocolate bar, that Raven said was a brand she loved in Japan. White chocolate coated cookies that Raven also said she loved in Japan. And a Hokkaido cream pastry, b/c, again, Raven said she loved them in Japan, lol. She actually got a green tea one, and I tried it and it was good, lol.

After Daiso, we headed to McAlister’s Deli to have lunch with my aunt and her boyfriend. (B/c they live in Ft. Worth.) I had the Four Cheese grilled cheese (though I took off the swiss, so it was a 3 cheese, lol, I also axed the tomato lol) a bag of chips, and a coke. We hung out and talked for a little while. And then we had to head out, so we could get back to Austin before it was dark.

So, we left Dallas/Fort Worth, and headed home. We stopped for gas. We stopped at a rest stop. And our only other stop was at Starbucks, where I got a Toasted White Chocolate Mocha Frappuccino. We got back to Austin as the sun was setting. We dropped off Raven, right before the sun fully set. Then my sister and I drove home. When we got home, our mom was on the front porch (to smoke..b/c both of my parents still smoke), and so she opened the door for us, cause our hands were full, lol. Sister and I greeted all the cats, aside from Luna, who was still hiding. And gave them treats, but they didn’t eat them, lol. Then when my mom came inside, we showed her what we got at Daiso, and I showed her my merch. Luna eventually came out of hiding, and came straight over to me to say hello. I gave the cats treats again, and this time they wanted them. Lol. Then I ate half of my left-overs from Zenna (b/c I brought them all the way home lol). My sister & mom both seperatly ordered Panda Express through Uber Eats. Lol. My dad got home (he spends every Sunday over at his brother’s house for football lol). And, things were pretty normal for a Sunday night, lol. I was at my computer watching videos for a few hours, and scrolling Twitter. Occasionally going to talk to my mom. The cats have been doing their thing. And then I typed all this up, while eating the other half of my left-overs. Lol.

Overall it was an amazing weekend and I’m so happy I got to experience it with one of my best friends and my sister. I’m so happy I got to see Tiffany Young live. I think I’m still in shocked disbelief. Like, it feels like a dream. If not for my feet still being sore, and my merch, pictures, and videos, I probably would think it was a dream. Lol. It was the best weekend!

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