#he was so proud of the latest hole we dug he was like come here my son and he started fist fighting me as a joke

[dragomircho]

hannibal lecter is visiting my dreams like every other night now i dunno if i should be concerned

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Bet On It | Charlie Gillespie

Requested:  I may have already requested this (or I may have dreamed it) - but I would love an imagine with Charlie and the reader having a bet. Charlie loses and has to get the readers name tattooed somewhere and his fans go INSANE. Can be either platonic or romantic, your choice.

A/N: This was too good to pass up. Hope you like it! And special thanks to @calamitykaty for helping me out again on this one! I appreciate your help and love so much! You are the best of the best! Love you! 💖

Pairing: Charlie x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, tattoos 

Song(s) used: Show Me How You Burlesque - Christina Aguilera 

Words:  3,880

“Wanna bet on it?” was one of the first things he had ever said to you three years ago when you met him after your dance troupe had performed at the annual showcase. 

You and Meghan Gillespie had been friends since you started taking dance classes when both of you were five. However, your friendship never expanded from dance classes. Both of you were totally fine with that. 

This also meant neither of you had ever met each other's siblings, but that changed when you were seventeen and Charlie tapped your shoulder when you’d come up to greet your own family after the showcase. He’d complimented you on your dancing, and told you a little flustered that you had stolen the show. You didn’t even need to ask his name to know this was Charlie. He had the same bone structure and the same eyes Meghan did. She had told you about her siblings, mostly about Charlie since he was the closest in age and, according to her, the most annoying out of all her brothers. 

The two of you talked the whole night, even long after everyone had gone. Most of it was absolute nonsense, but  you loved getting to know him a little more aside from the stories you’d heard from Meghan. You enjoyed his presence and the way he carried himself and told his stories. This boy just seemed like the most excitable and passionate person you had ever met in your life. A lot of similarities to his sister, you noticed. 

“Can I see you again soon?” he asked when the two of  you wrapped up the night when it neared twelve am. 

You had raised your eyebrow at his nervosity more than his question. “Are you asking me out on a date?” 

Charlie’s head snapped up at your question, his eyes wide and jaw tight. “Wha-What? Nah! I wouldn’t date my sister’s friend! Uhm, more like, uh… Like a platonic date!” he exclaimed a little too excitedly. He even added some finger guns to top it all off. 

“All right, a platonic date it is,” you said as a teasing grin made its way to your features. “But you have to promise me one thing…” He nodded his head, encouraging you to go on. “You  have to promise you won’t fall in love with me.” 

A snicker raked through his body before he mimicked your teasing grin, “Wanna bet on it?” 

Even though back then there was nothing at stake, he still lost the bet. You both did, technically. Because after that first ‘platonic’ date followed more dates that grew into non-platonic dates until he finally picked up the courage to kiss you on your doorstep. 

Now three years later, you were working together on a second season of Julie and The Phantoms, both of you having been on the first season too. You as a background dancer and him as one of the leads of the show. 

To say you were proud of him would be an understatement. 

However, no one knew you were dating except for the closest people in your life. Meghan knew from the first ‘platonic’ date that this would be more than just a shallow friendship, and all your other friends and family were just happy you found each other. The cast of Julie and The Phantoms, however, were your biggest shippers. They loved to tease you both to the point where fans were suspicious, but you never made anything official. You kept telling them you were just best friends. 

After a full day on a corona proof set, the two of you finally settle on the sofa of your shared apartment with Owen. Said third roommate still had to film a couple of scenes with Booboo, which meant the two of you had the space all to yourself. 

Cuddled up on the couch, the two of you scroll through your phone, catching up on anything  you’d missed on social media. You’d received a few comments on your latest Instagram story with Savannah and Tori, and even more on the ones with Charlie in them. Most of them told you they wanted you to do a live together soon. 

“People are asking for a live,” you stated, showing some of the messages in your inbox. 

“Then they shall receive,” Charlie replied and got up from the couch, making his way into the bedroom. You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering why he just left, but you were given answers when he returned with an acoustic in his hand. “They always love a good jam session,” he explained before handing  you his phone so you could set up the live on his account since he had a lot more followers than you. 

“Let’s see,” you mumbled as you pressed the button, letting the phone rest against a large candle on the coffee table. Names started popping up at the bottom of the screen while the little number in the right-hand corner raked up quickly. “Hey guys!” 

“‘Sup!” Charlie shouted excitedly, a wide smile taking over his features while he tuned his guitar. “What do you guys wanna see from us today? Send us some requests for songs I should play or questions you want us to answer.” 

A laugh escaped your mouth as you noticed a lot of the questions were about whether or not you were a couple. “No, we’re not together, we’re just best buddies.” You put your head on Charlie’s shoulder, smiling a toothy smile at the camera. 

“Do you pull pranks on Owen or others from the cast?” Charlie read aloud as you pulled yourself up again, nodding your head in response. “Yeah, we pull pranks on each other all the time!” 

“Yeah! I love to prank this one whenever I find him somewhere napping,” you chuckled, especially when you noticed his expression on the screen. His mouth ajar as his eyes went from left to right. “I swear, this boy can sleep anywhere!” 

“Don’t expose me like that!” he cried out, which made you burst out with laughter to the point where you even let out a snort. You couldn’t hold yourself anymore at how offended he was by all of this, you were practically cackling. “Okay, if we’re exposing each other, you’re always dancing. ALWAYS,” he put emphasis on the last ‘always’. His eyes widened at the word as well as his voice growing louder. 

You stopped laughing at this, suddenly turning serious. “That’s my job, Char,” you deadpanned. Charlie wasn’t Charlie if he let it go so quickly. 

“Yeah, on set and maybe at practice, but you dance everywhere,” he turned to the camera, “Seriously, she dances in the shower, on the toilet, at catering, in bed,...” he stopped himself upon realizing he’d said a tiny bit too much. 

“People are asking how you know all that, Charlie. How do you know all of that?” you teased along, knowing he had dug himself a hole and you loved to see him squirm to get him out. 

“Because I… Come on, y/n, we’re best friends, we fall asleep in the same bed all the time,” he quickly saved himself in a very nonchalant, very Charlie way. You couldn’t help the smirk tugging at one corner of your lip, thinking ‘Nice save, Gillespie’.

“But that’s still not as bad as sleeping everywhere,” you countered, your face still overtaken by that smirk. “I bet I could get a whole album of pictures of you sleeping anywhere.” 

This claim made Charlie’s head snap up, a feeling of dejavu rushing through his mind. This suddenly felt very familiar since both of you had  been in a situation like this before, both pulling the short straw.

“Wanna bet on it?” he declared, his eyebrows nearly reaching up to his hairline. 

Your tongue glided across your turned up lips as you replied, “What’s at stake?” 

“Let’s see what they think. Guys! Help us out with this bet, please! What should be at stake?”

Dozens of replies came in, but your eyes fell on one in particular. “The loser has to get the winner’s name tattooed in a place of the winner’s choice!” you read aloud, pointing at the screen where the comment used to be. “Yes! Okay! So, let’s say we have to each get ten pictures of videos by -- it’s now Tuesday, so Monday?”  Charlie nodded his head in agreement. “First one to get ten wins.” 

Charlie held his hand out for you to shake, which you gladly did so, sealing the bet. 

“Get ready to get tatted for the first time, baby,” Charlie quipped with a smirk. 

“Oh, no, Char. I’m gonna leave this a blank canvas,” you responded, gliding your hands over your ribcage and down to your sides for emphasis. “You better get ready to get ‘y/n’ tattooed in big block letters across your chest!” You patted his pecs before adding with a giggle, “No ragrets.” 

He let out a chuckle at the meme reference before turning to the phone again. The two of you spent the next twenty minutes talking to the fans on Instagram live, playing them some songs and teasing one another non-stop. The fans were pretty certain you were a thing by now, but you still insisted all this was just a really close friendship. 

By the next day, everyone knew about the bet and was willing to help both of you out. Though, most of them told you afterwards they were on your side all the way. 

Savannah skipped over to you when you were waiting at the Hollywood Ghost Club set, getting ready for the last rehearsal before you’d start filming the scene tomorrow. You were going over the steps in your head until she spoke up. “Have you caught Charlie yet today?” she asked with a smirk. You let out a chuckle, shaking your head. 

“No, haven’t really stopped today, so I haven’t seen him much either.” This made you realize you kind of missed him and were up for a cuddle right about now. “Why? Have you seen him somewhere?” 

The mischievous look in her eyes spoke a thousand words. “Gimme your phone, I’ll go take a picture, so you can stay here.” You mull over the option for a second before deciding against it. 

“No, that’s not very fair. I’ll just go and look for him after this rehearsal and hope he’ll still be napping.” Savannah shrugged at your response before tucking a strand of hair of yours behind your ears. 

“Suit yourself, he’s in the breakroom.” You made a mental note of that. “You’re so soft for him, it’s adorable,” she uttered as a tender smile found its way to her lips. “I’ll let you get to rehearsal and I’ll make sure no one wakes Charlie before you can get to him, okay?” 

You shot her a thankful smile, “Yeah, thanks, Sav.” She kissed your cheek before walking away to wherever she needed to go. 

Thankfully, Charlie was indeed still asleep by the time you made it to the breakroom. He looked adorable all curled up on the small sofa with his arms wrapped around his own stomach. With an endeared smile, you grabbed your phone from the pocket of your sweater and snapped a picture before making your way over to him and squatting down in front of the couch. Softly, you brushed a strand of hair off his forehead before combing through the luscious mop of brown locks. 

He stirred slightly and squeezed his eyes tighter before they fluttered open. When they met yours, a soft, sleepy smile lit up his face. With a beam mirroring his, you said to him, “You look very cuddly up here, mind if I join you?” He scooted over and turned to his side, answering your question without words. You joined him on the small couch and rested your forehead on his chest, shutting your eyes as you inhaled the familiar scent of his cologne. 

“You took a picture, didn’t you?” he mumbled, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. You giggled, which was enough for him to know that you did. 

“One point y/n, Charlie zero,” you said and kissed his shirt-covered chest. 

“Oh, I’ll get my revenge, Bubba, I promise you!” He poked you in the ribs, making you squirm in his arms. “But let’s nap first until they need us again.” 

When Charlie promised something, he stuck to it. So, during lunch that same day, you stood in line with Madison, Jadah, Savannah, Tori and some of the other dancers, chatting a bit while music played from the speakers in the spacious area where everyone was either already eating or queueing to get food. 

“You really never know if you--” you cut yourself off once your ears picked up on the song that was playing in the background. “Oh my God! I know the choreo to this one. Tori, you do too, right?!” 

You put the plate you were holding on top of Savannah’s while Tori and some of the other dancers gave theirs to the other girls. Tori and Sam, one of the dancers you were closest with, got up on the table. Chuckling, you watched as a few others followed their example, and you quickly give in too. 

“Hit it up, get it up, won’t let you rest Hit it up, get it up, this is not a test Hit it up, get it up, gotta give me your best So get your ass up, show me how you burlesque”

You’ve loved this movie since it came out ten years ago. Your mother showed you some videos of you dancing in front of the tv, trying to imitate the dancers. It was pretty hilarious to see a ten-year-old do this dance. 

Right now though, you were ready to show off in front of everyone with some of the greatest dancers on this crew. Moments like these were proof that you were born to be a dancer. 

“A little bit of naughty, it's a little bit nice She’s a whole lot of glam, sweat, sugar, sex, spice Shimmy, shimmy, strut, strut Give a little what, what Up on the tables we’ll be dancing all night”   

Little did you know that Charlie had walked in with Owen, Jeremy and Booboo just as you’d started to dance. He was quick enough to grab  his phone from his pocket and film it. Even though he loved the fact that it was now a tie, he couldn’t help but smile proudly at the girl he’d fallen in love with three years ago. 

This was his favorite side of yours. You were in your element on the dance floor -- or table in this case. He just loved how confident you were and how free you seemed. While you’d be kind of shy when around new people, nobody would notice that when you’re dancing. He found it incredibly sexy to see you up there. 

You groaned as Charlie held his hand out to help you down the table when you’d finished the impromptu performance. With a smirk, he said, “1-1, Bubba,” and pressed a kiss to your flustered cheek. 

“I hate you,” you mumbled, but you couldn’t withhold the smile tugging at your lips. He looked so chuffed with his victory, even if it was a small one. You wanted to grant him this one win. 

The one win quickly turned into eight more, for the both of you, by Saturday. 

Match point. 

There was a mutual agreement to pause the bet on Sunday since the two of you had a day off and were going to sleep and dance around the apartment while cleaning up anyway, so that wouldn’t be fair. But on Monday, it was game on. 

You were certain you were going to win. All you had to do is find Charlie when you knew he didn’t have to film anything and try to withhold yourself from dancing if it wasn’t a part of the filming or rehearsal progress.

By noon, you had succeeded in one department. The only thing left to do now, was find Charlie. You knew he had an hour off for lunch and  that he’d spent twenty minutes of it taking a power nap somewhere on set. The only downside was, that you had no clue where he could possibly be sleeping  now. 

“Mads! Jer!” you exclaimed when you saw Madison and Jeremy walking up to you with sandwiches in their hands. “Have you guys seen Charlie anywhere?” The two glanced at each other before giving you a look that screamed ‘seriously, y/n?’. 

“What’s the best napping spot in the entire studio and isn’t used for anything today?” Jeremy asked as a way of responding to your question. 

Your eyes widened as the image of the bed popped into your head. You quickly muttered, “Thank you!” before hurrying your way to the set that holds Julie Molina’s bedroom. And there, smack in the middle of the bed, cuddled up to a pink cushion, lied your boyfriend. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as you nervously grabbed your phone and snapped a few pictures to make sure there was at least one that wasn’t blurry. Your hands were shaking way too much from the excitement, but you couldn’t just let this one pass. You had to win. If not just to prove a point. 

You rapidly scrolled through the photos and when you saw one that was in focus, you shrieked and leapt onto the bed on top of Charlie. He let out a groan at the sudden weight pressing down on his body as he shook awake. 

“I won, bitch!” you screamed out, doing a happy dance as you straddled his lap.

He rubbed his eyes like a toddler whilst giggling like one too before placing his hands on your thighs and saying, “I didn’t think you’d find me here.” He started rubbing up and down your jeans-cladded legs, a pout tugging at his bottom lip. 

You raised your eyebrows at him, “Seriously? This is the most infamous napping spot of the entire studio! I immediately came here when I couldn’t find you in your regular spot in the breakroom.” Now it was his turn to raise his eyebrows at you. 

“Someone else told you I was here, didn’t they?”

“Yep, definitely.” 

He groaned and then flipped you over, so you were lying next to him, and you let out a shriek before it turned into a giggle. “I already know where you’re gonna put my name too,” you mumbled. You pressed your forehead against his while tracing a heart on his chest, right above his heart. 

His eyes fluttered shut as he kissed your forehead. Placing it back, he muttered, “Let me guess, on my left pec, so you’re forever in my heart?” You simply hummed in response, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend. “Why are you so predictable?” 

“Shut up, you love me.” 

Butterflies welled up in his belly as you said that. He loved the overconfident way you always said those words. They were true. Very true and he loved that you knew that. But that didn’t take away the fun into actually reminding you too. 

“That’s true.” 

The following day, you took Charlie to the tattoo parlor to get his tattoo. You had told him a thousand times he didn’t have to do it, that knowing you were the winner sufficed, but he just replied with a, “No, I want that tattoo.” 

The tattoo artist asked if  you had a design in mind, so you handed her the slip of paper on which you had perfectly written your name in cursive and told her where to put it. She simply stated, “You got great  handwriting,” before showing you and Charlie to the back. 

“Film this for Insta, babe, so the people know I lost,” Charlie had ordered you sweetly as he tugged his shirt over his body, handing it over to you while he sat down. 

You grabbed your phone and started filming when the tattoo artist, whose name was CeCe, she’d said, started on his tattoo. Charlie looked up at you, biting his lip, and then reaching out to you. Without asking him what was wrong, you swung his shirt over your shoulder and took his hand with the one you weren’t filming with. He squeezed hard, nearly bone-crushingly hard, but you let him. After all, it was kind of your fault he was there in the first place. 

When CeCe had finished and put a protective band-aid on it, Charlie grabbed his shirt from your shoulder, and kissed you on the lips sweetly. You paid for the work and time CeCe had put into this, said your goodbyes, and headed back home. 

Pretty much every single one of the cast was waiting at your place, ready to see the finished product. However, Charlie wasn’t allowed to take the covering off yet. It needed to stay there for two to four hours before he could take it off. 

And once he did, you were surprised to not only see your name on his chest, but also your favorite flower worked into it beautifully. Confused and surprised, you looked up at Charlie. 

“When did you even tell her to do that?” you asked as everyone started to take pictures of the tattoo and of the interaction between the two of you. 

“Called in beforehand,” he simply shrugged. Shaking  your head, you leaned up and planted a kiss to his lips. Even though it was bat-shit crazy he even went through with tattooing your name on his chest, the fact he added an element of you made it extra special. 

That night, Charlie posted the video of him getting his tattoo on his Instagram stories while you made a compilation post of all ten of the sleeping Charlie pictures you had accumulated in the last week, along with a picture of his tattoo. 

@Yourinstahandle: Victory is mine! You are absolutely crazy. I can’t believe you went through with this. At least now I’m forever embedded on your heart and I’ll be yours forever. 💖 @Charles_Gillespie 

And with that, you immediately went Instagram official too. Following your example, Charlie shared a picture of his brand new tattoo as well. 

@Charles_Gillespie: Wanna bet on it? Forever mine 💖 @Yourinstahandle

When he joined you in bed that night, you went to lie down on his chest, only to receive a painful hiss from him, causing you to shoot up again. “GAH! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” you shouted, and looked at him in shock. 

“It’s fine,” he muttered and went to pull you back but you refused to. 

“No, Char, I’m not gonna hurt you for an entire night,” you grumble and crawl across his legs to lie down on his other side. “This feels weird.” You rested your head against the non-painful side of his chest. “But better than no cuddles.” 

“Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t have won, so I wouldn’t be in pain right now,” he responded, followed by a small chuckle, letting you know he was just joking.    

“You are the most ridiculous person I have ever met,” you muttered. Before closing your eyes, you quickly leaned up and pecked his cheek. 

“Wanna bet on it?”

*

*

*

JATP Taglist: @hannahhistorian92 @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @angryknightstatesmantrash @kiss-themoongoodbye @rudysbay @thedarkqueenofavalon​ @caitsymichelle13​ @calamitykaty @wiselight @kcd15​ @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @stars-soph @kinda-really-lost

Charlie/Luke taglist: @parkeret​ @lukeys-giggle @gingerxarmy @lovesanimals @lolychu @perfectlywrongformend3s @luckylouiebug @camiladelrio98 @myfriendscallmebeans

Lemme know if you wanna be on my taglist! 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 026: Obstacle Course Part 2 (Conclusion)

Previously on BnHA: The kids of class A busted their way through the sports festival obstacle course like the young gods-in-the-making they are. Everyone was like, whoa, these kids are kicking ass. Momo made a gun and I may have cried a little. Some girl from the support course macguyvered her way through with moon shoes and a utility belt. Fucking Deku tore through the entire thing carrying a giant metal plate and just whomping robots left and right and shimmying across the floating islands of Pandora like fucking Spider-Man. He then catapulted himself onto a bunch of mines in a fucking minefield and fucking surfed the resulting explosion and I’m fucking done you guys.

Today on BnHA: Deku nearly commits a murder but it nets him first place. Todoroki spits in the face of continuity. Everyone in class A advances to the second round of the festival. Midnight announces that round 2 will be a cavalry battle. Deku has a target painted on his back because no good deed ever goes unpunished.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 48 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.) 

oh my god look at these huge text boxes. are these all Deku?? this kid is fucking twacked out on something right now I swear

yeah I guess this is Deku’s POV from when he was like “RARRRRRRRR [BOOM]” from before

seriously this kid is out here channeling the Hulk or something

holy shit he actually dug up the mines in order to jump on them??

All Might what have you done. look what you’ve created

more like blasting shounen maniac

also I forgot Kacchan’s arm was frozen and I had to stare at it for a sec before my memory filled in the blanks there

so we’re all in agreement that Deku has actually gone crazy right?

“yup this is intense” totally fucking bananas

Kacchan has such an over the top wtf expression that for a moment I actually thought Deku had hit him in the head on the way down

he didn’t think about the landing. of course not. shounens never think about the landing

well maybe this guy can inadvertently help you out with that somehow

wow look at his face. Deku what have you done

now Todoroki’s making an ice path

by the way, so Todoroki apparently doesn’t need to physically touch whatever it is he’s freezing, then? because here he’s just stomping on the ground and it’s immediately turning to ice, but he’s wearing shoes. I can’t remember if he’s done this before, but I feel like up till now it’s always been his hands

in fact, I just went back and checked his intro in chapter 11 and it specifically said he freezes things with his right hand (left hand is the fire one). so I consider this panel a plot hole unless Horikoshi decides to come along and explain it later

(ETA: not only did they not explain it, they didn’t change it for the anime either. WHAT KIND OF GARBAGE IS THIS. I CAN’T BELIEVE THE ENTIRE SERIES IS RUINED JUST LIKE THAT OMG.)

Deku seems more worried about losing time on his landing than he is about, you know, landing badly and breaking every bone in his body. I guess once you’ve already done that a few times, you kind of become accustomed to it and it’s no big deal anymore

(ETA: let’s not talk any more about Deku not giving a shit about his own broken bones holy shit.)

why do shounen people always take such a long fucking time to fall

lol the other two are rushing past him while he’s slowly drifting into the frame upside-down

grab onto them and use them as your sled dogs!

holy fuck what is he doing lmao

this kid is really out here with his HEEERE’S JOHNNY face deadass about to commit murder live on camera in front of 100,000 people

oh thank god he didn’t actually hit them. though I feel like it wasn’t for lack of trying

he hit the ground again and of course, more land mines

I feel like he ended up murdering them anyway tbh

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TEACHING THOSE KIDS ERASER HEAD” lmao sob this chapter is epic

and EH is all “I didn’t even do anything they’re just like this”

Deku actually made it back first! holy shit. and all he had to do was go completely off the deep end and murder two of his classmates to do it

oh my god his mom is watching

I mean, of course she’s watching, but it only just occurred to me. is he actually going to use his quirk here at some point or what? and if he does, just what the hell is she going to make of that?

I hope he comes clean with her afterwards, honestly. I have faith in her ability to keep a secret that would put her child’s life in jeopardy otherwise

(ETA: Deku is a liar and a thief and his poor mom deserves better)

and speaking of that, scrolling back up to the panel above Izumama, there’s this other random guy watching Deku who seems to also recognize him

what’s this about exactly? a year ago would be right around the time of the Sludge Incident. does he remember him from that? or does he somehow know Deku from back in his middle school days?

(ETA: it’s the former, I overthought this)

actually there are a lot of people who went to school with Izuku and specifically knew him to not have a quirk, come to think. what are all of them going to think if he suddenly busts one out here in front of the entire country? I feel like that’s going to seem really fucking suspicious and raise a lot of questions

anyway, moving on here, it seems Tomura is watching too. what a creep

and his hands are gone, just like when he visited the school that day and (presumably) broke in

aww. Deku sought out All Might’s face in the crowd and he’s grinning at him and he looks so proud. he’s crying again sob. and All Might looks fucking ecstatic

now All Might is having an internal monologue about how so many modern heroes are in it for the fame and so they’re selfish, but Deku isn’t like that, and that’s why he chose him. and interestingly he says he thought that quality would be a potential weakness, but he’s happy to be proven wrong

“but you gotta stop crying all the time!” aww, let him be, he’s emotional, there’s nothing wrong with that. I was gonna add “and he’s still a kid”, but that implies that there’s anything wrong with an adult being emotional which isn’t the case either. I know he’s all about the whole “smiling through the pain” thing, but Deku’s not the type to keep his feelings so hidden, and honestly I think that’s also a strength rather than a weakness

people from the business course are discussing Deku’s draft stock now, and speculating on how they would market him

yeah All Might I kind of see what you mean here. it’s all about the PR, and the actual hero stuff has almost been taken out of the equation

there’s a panel explaining how the business course members don’t participate in the sports fest directly and instead they just walk around doing boring business things. I’m not at all interested in this but I am dutifully making a note of it

(ETA: though I would be interested if they did some more shit dealing with sudden fame and celebrity and marketing deals. it’s still ridiculous to me that a country with as huge an idol culture as Japan would not be attempting to do this with at least some of these U.A. kids.)

(ETA 2: finally in the latest chapter I read we at least had someone filming a commercial.)

Kacchan and Todoroki have arrived back at the stadium out of breath as losers. sorry losers

poor Todoroki. IN FRONT OF YOUR FAMOUS DAD AND EVERYTHING

Kacchan’s super pissed but what else is new. is your arm okay bud. also you probably could have blasted your way across that final part of the course similar to how Deku did, but you didn’t. you literally have only yourself to blame

oh wow, Ochako and Iida rounding out the top five! what a pleasant surprise

(ETA: yeah this misconception will be rectified shortly, so I’m leaving it)

Iida’s depressed because being fast is His Whole Thing and he still came in like fifth. honestly I feel like that does hurt him a little more than the rest, because if any heroes out there are on the lookout for a speedster, they’re probably going to be less taken with a guy that didn’t even manage to make the podium in the speed competition. but you still have the rest of the festival, Iida. and if all else fails, you’ll still have two more chances after this

Deku is literally hiding his face because Ochako came right up to him and started talking about how great he was

it was not close, Deku

now he’s saying he got lucky. that was part of it, sure, but dude you were a fucking beast out there. honestly it was scary

Momo made it in sixth! along with this piece of drifting garbage that seems to have gotten stuck to her somehow

I’m sorry you had to see this, everyone. Momo is brilliant, but I feel like she missed a golden opportunity to make another gun or something and solve our Mineta problem for good. they did say no rules, after all. any lawyer worth their salt should be able to work with that

oh wow, I thought Iida and Ochako were fourth and fifth, but apparently that Poison Ivy girl came in fourth! Ibara, huh? I like her a lot

and this Dia de Muertos guy came in fifth!!

MY GOD IIDA, SIXTH?? YOU HAD ONE FUCKING JOB

and Ochako is #16?? EVERYONE, WE’RE GONNA RIOT

class B seems to only have a few standouts, really. thank god tbh. it was hard enough trying to memorize the first twenty kids’ names

(ETA: for a brief moment it looked like this might not be true, but then it was true again lol)

can’t believe Kaminari’s all the way down at #24. what happened?

are there... two invisible kids here?

(ETA: this literally never came up again??!)

and Aoyama barely made it. the cutoff was at #42 for some reason. they could have easily set it at the much more normal number of 40, but they just liked you that much, Aoyama!

Midnight’s about to announce the second event, but she’s dragging it out so damn much and I can’t take it

“Cavalry Battle”! yay! what’s that

Tsuyu says they’re teaming up but imma need more deets

“participants will form, on their own, teams of two to four members each” okay I can already foresee a few problems here

-- and get into a horse and rider formation, oh my god

I LOVE IT

for a brief moment I was like “wow this is really tame compared to the first event.” but then I remembered that they all have powers and will presumably be trying to kill each other and I can see this getting really fucking violent actually

that said! I’m definitely here for it lol

damn she’s still going on. apparently each kid has been assigned a point value based on the results of the previous event. so that means Deku has the highest value I guess. well, he wanted to stand out

TEN MILLION POINTS wow. this seems a bit broken to me

Deku’s face is

pretty good

what kind of fucked up olympics punishes you for doing well though

ten million points, though. damn. and meanwhile that lucky s.o.b. Aoyama is only worth five

and wow, we’ve reached the end of volume three already! well that sure was fun

BONUS:

Mt. Lady again?

she’s ordering takoyaki

she’s trying to get it for free omg

it worked omg

that’s it. that’s the comic

wow

now there’s a second comic that seems almost identical to her first comic from an earlier volume. this accountant guy is complaining that she’s lost them so much money

she can apparently grow from her normal size up to about 67 and a half feet. and that’s it. nothing in between

aside from that slight bit of additional detail, this is literally the exact same comic strip from before. I want those twenty seconds of my life back damn it

[writefortheblueandgold]

Betty throwing herself into the river instead of Cheryl and Jughead saving her

 Im sorry if this is unacceptably long, I’m still new to this! I added more to the ending than I was asked, but I actually really loved this prompt and personally Im proud of this.

Suicide attempt warning. Au.

Betty didn’t attend school that week. She got rid of the ladder outside the window of her bedroom that lay in wait every night for Romeo to ascend. Betty turned off her phone, locked herself in her room and disconnected from everyone, even Jughead, and Polly. Her slick ponytail turned to a messy bun, she was letting her perfect down, and she liked it. No makeup, no care for clothes besides an S sweater that she stole from Jughead and a comfy pair of ripped jeans. Sitting in her too perfectly pink room, on her too perfectly pink bed she closed her eyes and dug her nails into the palms of her hands. The pain almost a relief for her but it wasn’t enough this time. Her mother had pushed her too far. Alice Cooper never shy of strict perfection on her tired daughter had gone way past her limit, Betty could not fight back.

“Oh, Elizabeth stop lying. You’re not depressed, my daughter could never be depressed. If you keep up that attitude I’m gonna kill you. You’ll end up just like Jason. Stop ruining my reputation, don’t you think you’ve done enough damage to the people of this town. You know, in my head I always wanted you to go like Cliff Blossom. It’d be easier for me, heck, it’d be easier for everyone. I don’t understand what your friends see that’s so special, poor Jughead. I know he’s not much himself but he doesn’t need an, even more so, lowlife like you making it worse” The conversation had started about going to a dance with Jughead. Betty insisted she wear red, but her mother did not agree. The innocent conversation between mother and daughter soon spiraled into a verbal beatdown on Betty Cooper.

Alice Cooper and her daughter Betty Cooper had gotten closer after Betty solved Jason’s murder with the help of her friends, also her mother coming clean about her unborn son had opened a new sentimental side of their relationship. But when Reggie, Trev, and Chuck had started false rumors about Betty getting pregnant with Jughead’s child just like Polly, Mama Cooper spiraled into madness yet again, constantly degrading, yelling, even hitting her daughter. Before Betty had shut him out, Jughead always found a new bruise or red mark whenever he would visit at night and she was in her pajamas. Betty hadn’t seen Jughead or any of her friends since last Saturday and it’s Monday now. She shut her curtains that Saturday, she knew Archie would try to snoop on her or talk to her. Whenever they would come by she’d stand in the other room to hear her mother tell them she wasn’t seeing anyone. They all thought she was mad at them. She slowly maneuvered from her bed, feeling the stiffness in her legs and back as she walked to her desk to grab her phone and two picture frames. One frame held a picture of Archie, Veronica, Jughead, and her sitting in a dinner at Pop’s drinking milkshakes and laughing… Pop Tate took that on the night of the Jubilee. And the other held a delicate picture of her and Jughead at the dance. She was in her pink dress, the one her and her mother argued about and Jughead was as handsome as ever in a classic black tux and bow tie with this crown beanie on. They were smiling as the slow danced together. She missed him. God, she missed him. She turned to the phone she plucked nonchalantly off her desk and turned it on. She let it sit for a while as all of her texts rushed in from the little group chat named “The Core Four”, they had sent her a total of 268 messages all asking to call or if they could come by, asking if she was mad at them, Ronnie and Archie sent her little paragraphs about their day to keep her updated. Of course, Ronnie kept her updated on the latest gossip and videos of the River Vixen routines.  They only thing Jughead would ever say was, “I love you, I miss you. Please talk to me.” He sent that about 5 times everyday. She knew he worried about her, as she did him.

She bit her lip in thought as she texted the group chat. A simple “I’m not mad at you guys, I love you guys.” she turned their group chat on do not disturb as the texts came rolling in and slipped her phone into her back pocket. She unlocked her door and popped her head out to look into the hall. Her parents were asleep, perfect. She padded downstairs to slip on her sneakers on and wrapped her arms around Jugheads sweater as she opened the door and the winter air of November was giving her chills already. Betty slammed the door shut, not caring to be quiet anymore… who really cared, right? She walked for miles without knowledge of where she was going until she came up to a clearing in the woods of a frozen pond. Sweet Water River. She took out her phone and texted Jughead, and only Jughead.

“I’m gonna go down in the same river we thought Jason did. Maybe they’ll care about me then” Betty dropped her phone in the snow and took a few steps before she heard Jughead’s ringtone. She turned on the spot and kneeled to answer it.

“What do you want Jug?” She was a bit irritated that he interrupted her train of thought.

“Betty?! What are you doing?! Where are you?! Tell me where you are and I'll come get you!” He was frantic, almost on a verge of a panic attack. He barely survived the week without her.

“Jug I told you where I was. I’m gonna go down how everyone thought Jason did. I love you Juggie.” She hung up and cut him off.

Jughead barged through the front door of his shared trailer almost knocking his father over in the process.

“Hey! Son! Whats the rush?” FP was confused as ever.

“Not enough time. Emergency. Tell you later.” He rushed out as he slammed the door to his truck and took a second to hit the steering wheel. He didn’t notice he started crying until his nose was running. He started the engine and sped off, definitely over the speed limit, but he couldn’t care less at this point.

Betty slid her way onto the middle of the ice. she stared at the solid ice for a minute or two and contemplated on what she was going to do.  She slowly brought her fist up and pounded at the ice, cracking it with every hit. She sat there thinking about everything her mom made her to be. All the lies her mom filled her with. Nonetheless, she was right. Betty Cooper didn’t see herself as anything more than a nuisance, she only got in people’s way and ruined their reputation and their lives basically. Then she thought to Jughead. Poor Jughead. He deserved someone that wasn’t this problematic, someone simple. She hit it to the point if you stood on it, it would completely bottom out and drop you in the ice cold current. She stood up, and something caught her attention. A red flannel wearing, beanie-capped boy with a flashlight. Jughead.

“Betty, come to the shore. Come to me Betty, please.” He pleaded with the girl trying to reason with her.

“Juggie, I can’t.” Betty was a crying mess by now. Tripping over her words, jumbling them together.

“Why.” He took a step towards her. Just one.

“Don’t even think about coming over here Jughead Jones, it's too dangerous.” She worried for him.

“I know it’s dangerous. That’s why I’m trying to get you to come to me, Betty, you can’t do this to me. I love you,” He slipped off his beanie, signifying his seriousness, “I love you, Elizabeth Cooper. Please don’t do this. You mean the world to me, not only me but Polly, and Veronica, and Archie, and Kevin, and Ethel, I can go on and on about how much you are loved. Betty do not give up. You can come with me, and I will protect you. I will protect you with everything I have. Betty. I love you, I love you, I love you. I cannot stress it enough.” He’s crying now, even more, if possible. But Betty doesn’t notice him taking a step with each sentence.

“Jug. I don’t deserve someone that loves me like you do. I’m a monster. You shouldn’t love a monster. This darkness inside of me is gonna get you too and I can’t let that happen. You deserve someone simple. Someone like Ethel.” Ethel had recently developed feelings for Jughead after he published an article in the Blue and Gold about her achievements. His face scrunched at the thought of having anyone else but Betty. The stood there for what felt like seconds as the ice was cracking under her feet. He took in her messy hair, her makeupless face. He noticed the S sweater he’s been missing for months now, internally he smiled at her forgetting the position they were in. He slowly reached out his hand to her. But before she even thinks about grabbing it. Before she could decide which side to choose, the ice consumed her. Jughead screamed as she just plummeted into the water, vanishing like she was never there. But then his adrenaline kicked in. That was his girl, and this is not gonna be her ending. He dropped to the floor and swept what little snow lay on the ice. He found her drifting with the ice cold current. She was screaming, she was pale already on the brink of turning purple. After what seemed like minutes her drifting stalled and she sat there pounding on the ice, she was running out of air and would definitely suffocate soon if Jughead didn’t do anything. Jughead knelt down right above where she was and started punching the ice full force. he was yelling and crying. He was doing anything he could to get his girl back.

His hands were coated in fresh cherry red blood. Finally, the ice started to break away, he created a hole barely big enough for her to fit, but it was enough for him. He reached his whole arm in to grab her by the wrist and pull her out. Her face was purple, her skin was cold, she wasn’t breathing. Jughead did the only thing he could think of. He quickly places his hands together on her chest and started pushing. He paused for only a moment to plug her nose and try to get her breathing again.

“You can’t do this to me. Elizabeth Cooper! I won’t let you! I’ll die before I let you do this to me!” He yelled at her. He hadn’t stopped crying since he got her call. That was his baby. That was his girl. She looked like an empty shell. Nonetheless, he didn’t stall his attempt to bring her back to life. After 5 minutes she gasped for the cold air. It felt good in her lungs. She held her hands to her head, completely unaware to Jughead sitting next to her until he squishes her into his arms and cries into her hair. Their sitting on the ice, both cold but Betty more so, shivering, crying, hugging. Jughead spreads little kisses all over her face as he worriedly scolds her.

“Betty what is wrong with you?! Don’t you ever do that shit to me ever again! I was so worried! Betty what the hell?! I love you!” He holds her head in between his hands and makes sure she understands him perfectly well. She’s shivering so he takes her (his) sweater and wraps her in her flannel and puts his beanie on her head and picks her up and runs to his truck. Once finally in the car, he cranks up the heater to make an effort to help as much as he can. Half way home he can see she’s still shivering. He unclips her seatbelt and pulls her over to his side and wraps his arm around her. She smiles to herself, despite what they had been through not only fifteen minutes ago, she felt at peace. She always felt at peace with him. He always will be there for her. With the knowledge of affection from him, she feels a great wave of remorse push through her.

“Jug” Only a whisper coming out.

“Yes, Betty?” He looked at her for a moment before training his eyes on the road.

“I’m sorry, I just… I thought you’d be better without me. I don’t do much good to anyone and I-“ she was quickly interrupted.

“Betty. Stop. You deserve me as much as I deserve you. Maybe it’s me that doesn’t deserve you, but how could you say you don’t do much good to anyone? You have changed my Betty Cooper. You have made me believe in love. I will only ever want you. Screw your mother, screw your father. You are such a beautiful human being inside and out that I’m beginning to think you’re not even human, more like a damn goddess Elizabeth Cooper. I love you so much. If I let you just do what you did and die, I would never forgive myself. I will protect you from anything and everything; whether it be your mom, or the rumors that the brain dead jocks like to spread about you, or even you. I will protect you, I promise. I love you, Elizabeth Cooper.” He finishes his little speech with a reassuring kiss on her forehead. He smiles as she rests her sopping wet hair on his lap and gently falls asleep.

“I won’t let anything or anyone her you” He whispers to her sleeping form.

Jughead carries his half asleep girlfriends into his trailer. His dad sitting on the couch jumps up at the sound of the door opening.

“What the hell! Forsythe Pendleton Jones! You had me worried sick!” His father completely ignores the sleeping girl in his arms until Jughead shushes him. Jughead carries Betty into his room. Gently he rubs her shoulder only to wake her enough to throw her some of his pajama bottoms. She nods a little thank you when he smiles at her and kisses her temple. He gives her some privacy to change and peacefully be with herself while he talks to his dad.

“Jughead. What happened?” He pulls his shoulder to guide him to the small circle dining table.

“She tried to kill herself, dad. The love of my life tried to end hers.” Jughead said more to himself, almost like it hasn’t sunk in yet.

“Do you know why?” He knew he was pushing his boundaries but FP cared about Betty, she was like his daughter in law already, of course, he wanted her to be safe.

“Not entirely, I know it has to deal with her mom, rumors the jocks made up, and me. Dad. She doesn’t think she deserves me. Well, she didn’t think she did, we talked in the car and that part is solved.” Jughead doesn’t want to cry anymore, but thinking about what Betty wanted to do terrified him.

“Jughead. I know Mama Cooper is the hardest on Betty. I know how vicious she can get. If Betty would like, she can stay here for as long as she’d like, or for as long as she needs. I know you’ll protect her Jug. You love her, I know you do.” Jughead nodded in agreement with that he thanked his father and went to go ask Betty what she thought. He knocked on the door, he heard no reply, the silence scared him. He opened the door and the window was open. Wide open. “Shitty Betty!” He ran to the window looking out of it, looking for his blonde.

“What Jug?” She asked him hearing his exasperation from inside the attached bathroom.

“You really think I’d try to leave?” She wore a small smile on her face following a slight chuckle.

“Sorry, you didn’t answer to my knock and when I came in the window was wide open. Jesus Betty, why is the window open? It’s November, it’s practically on the brink of snowing.” He walked to her embracing her.

Lifting her head up she took his face in her hands, “It feels good. What was so urgent Jug?”

“Dad said you’re more than welcome to stay here until you feel better. But if you don’t want to and you insist on going home that’s fine too. I just want you to be safe and I want you to be hap-“ He took her hands away from his face and held them in his own.

“Jughead, would it really be okay for me to stay? I don’t feel safe at home anymore.”

Beaming at her he couldn’t contain his happiness, “Betty, like I said more than welcome.”

[texanredrose]

Price to Pay

Based off this prompt from @makas0ul.

For decades, she slept. Unaware of the comings and goings of the mortal world, she slumbered in peace, tucked away in a cave in the highest mountain of the furthest range, half a world away from her former family. Once, the Dragons were mighty and great creatures who ruled over all Remnant, but those halcyon days had passed long before she hatched. Her father wished to use their power to retake the world but she had no such delusions; the Humans and Faunus had inherited the world and, soon, their time would come to an end, too. 

So Weiss slept, curled up on a meager horde, and only awoke when some fool sought her out, hoping that by bidding her blessing, they might reached greater heights. However, they didn’t understand how Dragon magic worked, that nothing could be given without a price being paid; they learned before they left her cave. 

If they left it, anyway.

They would enter, usually surrounded by a retinue of lesser mortals, each haggard from the long journey so that their King or Chief or whatever could beseech the great Dragon. Some had even come to kill her. All of them underestimated her and, eventually, her legend turned to one of a terrible beast capable of granting whatever one may desire but at a price one could never afford. At least, that’s what she assumed happened after her last visitor, some seventy years ago- a man who wished to live forever, that he might rule over Vale for all eternity.

She turned him into a mountain. The very one she claimed as her den, actually, for a Dragon gives nothing without gaining something in return.

Weiss might’ve slept for seventy years more, but the sounds of grunting and cursing, combined with shifting and sliding rock, pulled her from her slumber easily. The Dragon lifted her head, stretching out her great wings for the first time in so long and letting out a growling yawn- a warning. The sounds stopped for a moment but, when they continued, they came quicker, with urgency. It seemed that whoever had climbed her mountain truly sought her presence.

Frankly, she couldn’t say she minded. Although irksome in their demands, the mortals of Remnant were the only company she could keep throughout the slow march of time. Her sister had fled Atlas before she did and found somewhere to hide, where neither their father nor Dragonslayers would find her. Weiss, perhaps, had been less discreet, if only to increase the chances of running into Winter again. She’d considered her elder sibling might’ve been killed but she doubted it; older by several decades and strong enough to defy their father, it would take more than a mere mortal army to bring her down. 

Finally, her guest reached the mouth of the den she’d dug for herself, a skylight allowing the sun to filter through and gleam off her bright, white scales as she curled around the small horde she’d collected back when such things interested her. It was small for a Dragon of her age but she’d lost the will to raid the mortals for their glittering jewels several decades before her last visitor, when she took to sleeping between the infrequent guests. It had once meant something- the size of a Dragon’s horde, the variance, the way it was kept- but, seeing as she was the only Dragon in Vale, and perhaps one of only five left in the world... well, what was the point, anyway?

Great blue eyes watched as her guest approached, trudging closer after a moment’s pause. Although her own breathing echoed off the den’s walls, she could hear the steadying breath the Human took, steeling her nerves to approach the beast of legend.

“Are you the Great White Dragon?” The Human called out, stopping about fifty meters off, looking up to meet Weiss’ eyes in either a show of courage or defiance.

Either way, she rolled her eyes. “No, I’m the Great Blue Dragon. The Great White Dragon is two mountains over.”

“You’re- wait.” The Human growled, clearly vexed. “Are you trying to pull one over on me?”

“Just pointing out how ridiculous a question that was.” She spread both wings and lifted her tail, showing off as many scales as possible. “Do I look like a white Dragon to you? Are there really so many Dragons left in the world for a distinction to be necessary? Why would you even ask that?”

With a muttered curse, she put a hand to her face, clearly trying to control her temper. “Look, are you the one who grants wishes or not?”

“I am.” She lowered and turned her head, so she could get a better look at the woman before her. After so many years alone and asleep, she couldn’t get a good judgment on the woman’s height, but she seemed tall and sturdy, even buried under the layers of clothing that protected her from the cold mountain air. The armor she wore was second hand at best, old leather than bore too many holes to be of any use, and battered gauntlets that had seen better days. From beneath an orange scarf wrapped around her head and neck, golden strands tumbled down her back and lilac eyes peered up at her without showing a hint of fear, flashing with stubborn conviction. “But the better question is, who are you to come into my den and demand answers of me?”

“My name is Yang Xiao Long,” she said, not retreating even a single step despite how easy it would be for Weiss to snap her up in powerful jaws. Come to think of it, she hadn’t eaten in quite a while... but she supposed she could hear the woman out first. “I’ve come to make a wish.”

“And here I thought you were just coming to say hi.” The Dragon lifted her head again, looking down upon the mortal. “What do you seek? Fame? Fortune? Immortality?”

“My sister’s sick.” Yang didn’t blink, didn’t falter, didn’t waiver in the slightest as she spoke, those lilac eyes glinting like gems. “I wish for you to save her. Please.”

Weiss paused. “You wish for me to spare the life of your sick sister. That’s it.”

“Yes.” The woman took another breath before kneeling down and bowing her head. “The legends say you require a price to be paid for any wish. Take my life in exchange for my sister’s. It’s... it’s all I have.”

For a moment, silence filled the den. In all her years, she’d been visited by nobles and soldiers, by the greedy and the proud and the envious, but she’d never been sought out by one who desired something for another and not themselves. The Dragon had thought it odd, in some respects; wouldn’t everyone come looking for her, if she could bestow amazing gifts? But she didn’t know how the mortals told her tale, or if they told it at all; then again, her latest additions to her horde had come from those who visited her, after she’d granted their terrible wishes and their loyal attendants had fled. Perhaps the people of Vale thought only the richest among them could even afford a wish. And yet this one had come anyway.

“Tell me your story, Yang Xiao Long.” She settled onto her horde once more, laying her head on her crossed claws. “How is it you’ve come all this way to beg for your sister’s life with nothing but your own meager existence to barter?”

Another curse fell from the woman’s lips but she raised her gaze, looking at the Dragon with a hint of anger in her eyes. “My mother abandoned me when I was a child and her mother died when we were small. Our father raised us but he’s just a woodsman; he did the best he could. He got sick three years ago and passed last winter, the disease eating away at him from the inside out. Ruby...” Some of the anger gave way to sadness. “She started getting sick during his last month. There’s... there’s nothing the healers can do.”

“A disease that takes two years to kill... that is a painful thing.” Her words were true but they weren’t all she thought of the story- if it could even be called that. It sounded like a curse or perhaps Dragon magic, and she wouldn’t put it past her father to inflict such a price upon a mortal for a wish granted. Regardless, she hadn’t done anything quite this malicious, so she turned her attention to the next question on her mind. “How long did you travel to find me?”

“Six months.”

“Hmmm... and if you hadn’t, and were forced to return home with no cure and no wish, you’d have spent half your sister’s remaining time chasing a legend.”

Through gritted teeth, the words came. “I had to try.”

Weiss tapped a claw against the gold beneath her. “You know you are not offering me your life as a slave, yes?”

“Kill me, turn me into a mountain, chain me to a tree in the middle of the forest, I don’t care.” Yang’s hands curled into fists atop her knees. “Just save my sister.”

The others would name their prices when they came to make requests of her. They offered jewels and gold, slaves and feasts, sacrifices and tributes, but none appealed to her, so she took what she wished instead. No one had ever offered their own life before.

At length, Weiss finally spoke, slowly easing herself up in the process. “I must see your sister. I am powerful, as all Dragons are, but there are things beyond even my magic. Let’s see if I can grant your wish, and only then will I take my dues.”

She thought that Yang would have something to say in response to that, and she wasn’t disappointed. At least, not in that regard. “Wait.” She stood up, once again looking defiant despite the undercurrent of relief that eased the tension from her frame. “Promise me that, if you can save her life, you don’t do anything against her.” The woman put a hand to her chest. “I am the one asking for the wish; I’m the one who has to pay the price.”

“I’m well aware of this,” she replied, blowing air through her nose in exasperation.

“Promise me.” She held out a hand, as if expecting a handshake to seal the accord. A moment later, Yang obviously realized how ridiculous a notion it was, yet she didn’t falter. “Please.”

Weiss sighed. “At least you have your manners.” With one claw, she reached forward, allowing the woman’s hand to grip it as best she could. “Satisfied?”

“Yeah.” Now, the relief showed plain in the blonde’s expression as she nodded.

“Very well. Now, I’d rather not waste any more time than absolutely necessary.” Her tail swung around, the thin tip wrapping around the woman’s waist and lifting her up effortlessly. “Tell me where your sister is- directions from here, mind. Mortal names are useless to me.”

It took a few minutes of wiggling and vain attempts to free herself- or perhaps simply make herself more comfortable- before Yang responded, a hint of agitation in her tone. “We live on an island off the north eastern coast. It’s called Patch-”

“What did I say about the names?”

“-And can’t I just ride on your back? It’ll be easier to give you directions that way.”

“I’m not about to be mounted by a mortal like some beast of burden,” she said, claws scraping against stone as she made her way out of her den. “If you want your wish granted, any further complaints will remain unsaid.”

Much to her surprise, aside from some grumbling, Yang remained silent as the Dragon brought them out of the cave and into the harsh sunlight of the outside world. It took her eyes a moment to adjust, feeling the keen bite of the cold mountain wind for the first time in decades and spreading her wings wide to feel it gliding over her scales. She took a deep breath before taking to the sky, flying for the first time in centuries, with her cargo alternating between marveling at the world below and loudly pointing out that they were going the right way but it would be easier to tell from a better vantage point.

The latter was ignored, of course.

Weiss flew for hours before deciding to take a break for the night, the sun hanging low in the western sky. Even if she could go centuries without food, mortals in general were rather weaker in that regard, and she could swear she felt Yang’s stomach rumbling so loud it made her scales vibrate.

She chose a small clearing in a forest heavy with the scent of game, too far from the coast for the smell of the sea to throw off her ability to hunt. The Dragon wouldn’t need much- honestly, a boar would do at this point, but she could smell an abundance of deer, so she might have to settle for venison and simply gorge herself- and the Human likely had her own stores. When she landed, she opted to be polite and set Yang down on her feet rather than simply dropping her on the ground.

“Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick.” She groused, holding a hand to her head.

“A bit of a delayed response, don’t you think?”

“Before, I had the thought that, if I’d thrown up on your scales, you would’ve dropped me in a lake and flown back home to help keep everything settled.” The woman bent over, hands on her knees as she focused on her breathing. “I don’t have that anymore.”

She probably wouldn’t have done so but the Dragon didn’t bother letting that be known; they still had some distance to travel before reaching Yang’s home. “Well, while you’re busy calming yourself down from our little flight, I’m going to find some dinner.”

“You’re not going to fly, are you?” Although still looking a little queasy, the woman straightened up and motioned around. “There’s villages all along the border of this forest. If anyone sees you, it could start a panic.”

“Oh? Are mortals so quick to take action against the Great White Dragon?” She peered down at Yang, trying to frame her surprise in a different light; after the Dragonslayers waged their war, the number of Dragon families that remained in Remnant numbered very few, and those numbers dwindled further in the centuries that followed. She would’ve thought her kind had passed into myths and legends by this point, with so few remaining and many not strong enough to weather a war against the Human kingdoms that sprouted up in the wake of the Dragons’ fall. “And here I thought I still had a few fans.”

The woman hesitated, seeming to weigh her words before opting to stand her ground, that defiance from before shining in lilac eyes. “Some of the stories say you fall upon villages and wipe them out, eating every person and taking the livestock back to your cave. Whatever you don’t take, you burn.”

Weiss tapped a claw against the ground, digging into the dirt slightly. “You think I aim to wipe out a village tonight, is that it?”

“I really don’t have many reasons to think otherwise.”

“I’ll grant you that.” So it seemed she would not be eating quite yet. It didn’t truly matter to her, anyway. “Though, for the record, I don’t eat Humans or Faunus. Your diets are too varied; it’s impossible to tell which of you will taste halfway decent.” Tucking her wings in close to her body, Weiss set about laying down for the night. She didn’t really need the rest but, honestly, she had nothing better to do, and if this was truly one of the woman’s last days alive, she might as well have a good night’s rest. “At the same time, I’d rather not do any fighting.”

She settled on the north side of the clearing, up against some tall trees, with her tail curling around her body and her neck bending so she could lay her head atop the soft grass beside her front claws. She’d spent so much time alternating between sleeping among the cold metal of her horde and the hard stone of her den, she’d forgotten the simple pleasure of napping beneath the open sky with the warm earth beneath her and the soft grass to act as her bed.

“So... you’re not going to eat?”

She cracked one eye open to look at the Human. “No. Not if it runs the risk of riling up your kind. We’re going to see if I can cure your sister, not start a Dragon Hunt. Knowing how your kind work, so much as being seen in the area would be enough to take the blame for every little thing that goes wrong in the whole kingdom for the next three months.” Her eye fell shut. “It’s of no concern.”

“I can hunt for you.” Weiss opened her eye again, scanning the woman’s form. Yang didn’t carry any weapons- at least, none the Dragon could see- but she seemed entirely serious. “There’s plenty of game in the woods. An hour or two and I can bring you something. A boar, a deer, maybe a bear?”

Taking a deep breath in through her nose, she focused on the scents lingering among the fresh scent of the forest. “Too few boar, they would be difficult to track. Plenty of deer, though.” She closed her eye. “And you’re not well equipped enough to take down a bear. Head west, there should be a herd of deer that way; I can smell them on the wind.”

“I can take down a bear, if I want.”

“I don’t believe you could take down a stag, much less a bear,” she replied, sighing through her nose. “I can’t grant your wish if you get gored by some beast before we even reach your island. Just find a sick doe, if you must find anything at all.”

Weiss heard a few mutters- something about her being a ‘big dumb lizard with a smart mouth’- but if Yang had anything further to say, she mostly kept it to herself and stalked off to the west as night descended on the forest.

The Dragon dozed lightly, at first acclimating to the strange sounds of the forest before allowing herself to fall into a deeper slumber. She would awaken at the first sound of someone- or something- approaching the clearing, so it didn’t trouble her to rest while she could. Her wings ached slightly from spending years asleep and suddenly putting them through such a vigorous workout but her magic soothed the muscles easily. 

Weiss wondered on the frailty of mortals for a time. She always thought it odd that such small, weak creatures could’ve driven her predecessors to the brink of extinction yet saw the proof with her own eyes; where once stood a meeting place of sorts for the Dragons of Atlas, now mere dust and detritus remained, the stone and metal smashed and twisted by mortal armies. On their own, mortals could accomplish very little compared to a Dragon, but when they banded together, they could be much stronger, whereas Dragons relied on none but themselves for anything. Pride, she supposed, was their greatest weakness, and greed, seeing as it was by demanding more and more for their hordes that the mortals revolted against the Dragons.

It didn’t matter, she decided. The world stood as it did now and she could not change it; perhaps it was for the better.

About an hour after she left, Yang made her way back to the clearing, labored breathing coming from the south. She must’ve had to chase after the herd, the Dragon surmised, and opened her eye. However, she had to lift her head to use both when she saw a lumbering shadow pushing through the undergrowth, easily three times the size of the woman who’d gone hunting. Immediately, fire gathered on her tongue, ready to broil whatever creature would dare intrude upon the clearing, but she held off until it broke through and revealed that it was, in fact, Yang, hoisting the carcass of a large brown bear and throwing it down between them.

“There.” She pointed, a smile on her lips. “I told you I could take down a bear.”

Weiss blinked in surprise. “You went off and found a bear just to prove me wrong?”

“No, I was going to get a stag.” The woman lifted her right shoulder, wincing slightly. “The bear found me.” Rolling her neck once, Yang pulled a bloodied- and likely dull, given the rust near the hilt- knife from her belt and started towards the dead animal. “Just give me a little bit and-”

“Or we could do this the easy way.” Weiss reached out with her tail, dragging the carcass close enough for her to reach out with a claw, pressing the tip into the bear’s fur. In a brief, bright flash, her magic had rippled out, tearing the skin from the meat and pulling it away with her claw, which she promptly set aside. Once again, she allowed fire to gather on her tongue, though of a different sort; where the previous flame would’ve burned straight to the bone, this plume would swirl around the target at a much lower temperature, cooking the meat rather than burning it. Using her blue flames tapped into the purest form of her magic, more often than not the very method she used to grant the wishes begged of her, but it served more mundane purposes as well. When her jaws closed, taking all but a few tongues of blue fire with it, the smell of cooked meat wafted up from the bear’s carcass, pulling at her hunger. “There. Much easier.”

“Yeah... I guess so.” Yang had stood and watched the display with barefaced amazement, as if she could hardly imagine the sort of power one must possess to make such a task take mere seconds instead of another hour at least. Slowly, she slid her knife back into her belt and turned, heading over to the pelt. “If I hadn’t seen it myself, I’m not sure I would’ve believed it.”

“Well, you are merely a mortal.” The Dragon reached out, pulling a hind leg free of the body and tossing it into her mouth, chewing it slowly to savor the taste before swallowing. After so many decades without proper sustenance, she had to admit the taste rather appealed to her. Perhaps she should wake up once every decade or so to hunt and remind herself of the simple pleasures of the world, like good food. “Magic is the domain of Dragons; Humans and Faunus can control it but can never create it themselves.”

“Control it?” The woman furrowed her brows, drawing the bear skin around her and sitting down, reaching into a pouch on her hip. “How could anyone who can’t create magic control it?”

“By having it bequeathed to you, of course,” she said, pulling off the foreleg on the same side. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard the story. A Human king came to me once, wishing for a fraction of my power- magic to control the elements.” With a flick flick of her claw, she ate the foreleg, thinking back on that particular exchange. “That was back when I didn’t incur stiff penalties against those who begged boons of me. I took one of my scales and fashioned for him a gauntlet that would let him pull fire from air and water from earth, bend them to his will.” Turning her head, the Dragon bent closer to Yang, allowing her to see the crack in her scales that started above her left eye and tracked all the way down to her jaw. “He immediately turned it against me, thinking a bit of lightning might be enough to kill a Dragon.”

Yang reached out, putting a hand to the broken scales, and while Weiss hadn’t moved her head with the intention of letting the woman touch her scar, she didn’t pull away immediately. It seemed strange, the touch of another creature, and something she hadn’t felt in centuries, but that wasn’t what kept her from jerking away. For some reason, Yang looked... upset, if she was reading the mortal’s expression correctly, and that confused the Dragon. Why would she be concerned about such things?

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” she eventually said, nothing but sincerity in her tone. “I can’t imagine why anyone would do something like that.”

“It’s an age old mindset. That which has the power to grant something also has the power to take it away; likewise, it has the power to grant it to others.” Weiss waited until the woman withdrew her hand before pulling away, looking up to the shattered moon overhead. “Mortals have sought me for centuries, hoping I could give them something to make them more powerful than those they lorded over. But as long as I exist, so too does an opportunity for a challenger to rise up, so they often sought to destroy me with the very gifts I gave them.” She shook her head. “I grew wiser after the third time. I inflicted harsh stipulations; the greater the request, the graver the price. Even knowing this, still they came. Still they asked. And I got more creative with each time.”

Silence descended between them as Weiss rolled the bear over, taking the other hind leg. Between the heavy taste of the meat and the sweet marrow of the bones, she’d be hard pressed to name a more delicious dish, but so, too, would she be hard pressed to name any dish. Not since she’d left Atlas had she had something properly cooked by a hearth fire rather than her magic.

“I don’t blame you,” Yang said, pulling some bread and cheese from her pouch. “No one ever tells that part. It’s always some knight or peasant looking for a simple boon- a stronger sword to defend people with or a favorable wind for their crops. No one says anything about them trying to kill the Dragon after granting the wish.”

“And why would they?” Weiss let out a bitter chuckle. “Far be it for any mortal to admit fault. It’s much easier to blame the Dragons your kind deposed... though, truthfully, I suppose we earned it, too.”

“Were you- I mean, how long have- uh...” Looking away, the woman seemed to struggle with how to word her query before opting to be blunt. “How old are you?”

“Tact is not a strong suit for you, is it?” Weiss rolled her eyes. “I didn’t hatch until after the Dragons fell but I’m not terribly old by our standards. And I’ve spent most of my years slumbering.”

For a time, they were quiet, with the Dragon tearing off a chunk of meat from the body of the bear and chewing it thoughtfully while her companion nibbled on nothing but cheese and bread. From the corner of her eye, she watched, noting how Yang never seemed to eye the remaining bear meat with envy or hunger, contenting herself with her meager meal.

“Hey, uh, so I have a question.” Ah, there it was. Weiss felt her lips curl up slightly, awaiting the obvious question. “Do you... have a name? Like, something other than Great White Dragon?”

Okay, that wasn’t what she expected. “You want to know my name?”

“Or just something to call you.” She put a chunk of bread in her mouth, speaking around it as she chewed. “The legends say a Dragon’s name is powerful but... I just can’t keeping thinking of you as ‘the Dragon’ in my head, if that makes sense. It seems... rude.”

“This time tomorrow, you may be dead.” She pointed out, mostly to buy herself time. What Yang said wasn’t untrue- a Dragon’s name could be very powerful indeed- but she hadn’t bothered to even think of her True Name in centuries, so that didn’t concern her. The name she’d chosen for herself, however, was known only to herself, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to change that.

“Then I’ll know who to thank for saving my sister,” the woman replied, though her mood seemed sufficiently soured by the reminder that she wouldn’t survive much longer anyway. “Sorry, it was a dumb question anyway.”

She watched as Yang returned to her meal, apparently content to let the conversation die, which was probably for the best. Even a name she’d chosen for herself had a small amount of power in it... though no mortal existed who knew how to wield it, not even the power of her True Name. Such knowledge was lost long before she learned how to fly.

“Weiss.”

“Huh?”

“My name. Or as close to it as I’ll ever speak.” She ripped off the bear’s remaining leg, holding the meat between the tips of two claws. “It’s Weiss.” The Dragon offered the food to Yang. “And you need to eat more than just cheese and bread.”

“Yeah... might be my last meal, huh?” The woman gave a mirthless chuckle, putting her food in her lap and reaching out to accept the offering. Despite the circumstances, Yang tore into the meat with her hands and teeth, revealing a voracious appetite. Despite the vigor with which she ate, it became obvious that the meat of the leg would be more than enough to fill her, leaving the remainder of the bear to the Dragon. “Thanks for this.”

“Aside from the mouthful of meat mangling the words, she had to admit the woman kept her manners in mind. “You’re welcome.”

“Did you want to keep the skin?” She gestured towards the bear skin draped around her.

Weiss mulled it over for a moment. Generally speaking, anything glittering or metallic caught her interest, but fine silks and furs often did, too. At the moment, however, she didn’t particularly care. “I have no use for it.”

“Do you mind if I use it for tonight?” Yang raised a hand, stifling her yawn as best she could. “I- I, ah, lost all my sleep stuff a few days ago and this’ll make a great blanket.”

“Lost your... sleep stuff?” The Dragon carved off another slice of meat, eating now from boredom rather than hunger as she considered what ‘sleep stuff’ could possibly refer to- likely blankets and tents and the like, things fragile mortals needed to survive the elements that weren’t necessary for most creatures. “How did that happen?”

“Pack of wolves nearly got me. I used my bag to beat them back, and sent one over a cliff with it.” With another yawn, the woman set aside the bear meat, having devoured a good portion of the upper arm- far more than expected for such a small creature. Apparently, she’d been left with only bread and cheese for quite a period of time. “Lost most of my supplies when that happened so I haven’t... haven’t really slept... since... then.”

Weiss blinked, noting the slowing speed of her speech, and looked over in time to see the woman nearly fall over as she struggled to remain conscious. The full stomach plus warmth of the bear skin must make staying awake a trial that Yang was fighting to overcome with all her might, but the Dragon merely rolled her eyes and user her tail to tip the woman over. Once sprawled amid the bear skin, it seemed exhaustion took its toll, no objection leaving her lips in favor of simply slipping off into slumber. With nothing else to do, Weiss reached over and pulled the half eaten bear leg towards her, opting to take the remaining meat and put a magic barrier over it, that they might sleep without worry that scavengers might come and steal it in the dead of the night. She also separated the bear’s claw from the rest of the leg.

Traveling as far as she did, losing vital supplies and still going, and then spending the whole day flying for the first time only to land and go hunting, fighting off a bear... Yang had certainly endured quite the journey to sacrifice herself for her sister’s health, Weiss mused, leaning over to tap a claw lightly against the woman’s sleeping form. She hardly stirred but hissed in her sleep all the same; the bear hadn’t escaped the encounter with its life but the woman hadn’t escaped without wounds herself. Yet, she made no mention of it.

With a brief burst of magic to speed the recovery process on its way, Weiss pulled her tail back and laid down to sleep.

When morning came, the Dragon awoke to the rising sun filling the treetops with light accompanied by Yang’s light snoring. She hadn’t moved since being toppled and, were it not for the cacophony of sound issuing from her, Weiss might think her dead. Nothing had dared wander through the clearing during the night, the scents of all the creatures of the forest far more muted thanks in part to the morning dew and, more importantly, greater distance. It seemed that nature wasn’t as quick to forget how dangerous a Dragon could be and that mollified her a bit.

However, seeing as she had no real reason to rush, Weiss continued to rest as the sun rose, eventually stretching out a wing to keep the woman shaded. If she’d truly gone many days without sleeping due to a loss of equipment, surely a few hours’ extra sleep weren’t too bothersome. Even if it had been centuries since the last time she’d traveled so far, the Dragon remembered the general lay of the land, and whatever island the woman hailed from would be easily reached in half a day’s flying.

So the morning wore on and Weiss dozed lightly,occasionally retracting her wing to keep it rotate the joint before stretching it out again. As it drew close to midday, the day warmed enough that the woman began to sweat beneath the bear skin, forcing her to move and kick it off, which inadvertently awoke her. Yang sat up, stretching and yawning, a series of pops filling the air as she pushed and pulled at stiff joints.

“Oh, wow. I haven’t slept that hard in a while,” she said, another yawn erupting from her mouth. “How long have I been out?”

Weiss pulled her wing back, revealing the sun high over head. “Not a full day, yet. Thought I don’t doubt you could’ve slept til tomorrow.” She jumped up, alarm showing plain in her expression, but the Dragon waved off her concern with a flick of her tail. “We’ll reach your island before sundown. Your sister still has, what, at least a year left?”

“Maybe, but she’s younger- it might...” Yang trailed off, averting her gaze. “We should get there as soon as possible.”

“Most mortals would delay their execution.”

“My death doesn’t mean anything compared to saving my sister’s life.” She reached out, putting a hand on Weiss’ tail. “Please. The sooner we get there-”

With a small sigh- she was actually enjoying the sunlight filtering through the leaves- the Dragon lifted herself up, rotating her wings to prepare for the flight. “I forget how precious time is to those who measure their passing in years, not centuries.”

“Yeah, well, take pity on the Human for being unable to wait another day, okay?” Yang laughed, though it sounded a tad bitter. “I can always sleep when I’m dead.”

Weiss tapped her claw against the soft dirt for a moment before wrapping her tail around the woman’s waist, lifting her into the air and setting her between the Dragon’s wings. “We’ll have to fly low to land on your island. If people see us, they’re less likely to attack me if it appears I’m... tamed.” She rolled her eyes, lightly pushing at the woman’s back with the tip of her tail. “Find a seat and hold onto the spikes along my spine. Else, you’re liable to fall to your death.”

“I kinda wanna be touched that you’re concerned for my safety but... I guess it’s really all about timing, isn’t it?” She could feel the woman’s boots walking along her back. “Give me a minute. You’ve got some sap on your scales.”

Ah, one of the disappointing realities of being out among nature rather than holed up in her den. Weiss frowned, craning her neck around to watch as the woman pulled her knife free and began scraping the sap away with the blunt side. “You realize I could use my magic and have it done much quicker, yes?”

“I’d rather you save your magic.” Yang looked up at her, a small frown touching her lips. “If you’re not sure you can save my sister, you probably need your strength.”

“You’re stubborn and proud,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. The trees overhead had left a smattering of sap all along her back, hardly noticeable to her but discoloring her scales all the same. While the woman held the knife in one hand, she pulled the scarf from around her neck and used it to brush away the cracked sap and polish the scales to their usual white shine. “You’ll wear yourself out.”

“Look, this will literally be one of the last things I’ll do.” Yang didn’t bother stopping her work, chipping away the hardened sap without looking up. “At least let me do something now to show my gratitude.” She paused. “And I suppose this could be ‘thanks for not eating me without hearing me out’, too.”

“Do the legends really paint me as being so rude?” Despite the insistence against it, Weiss flooded her scales with magic to make the task easier, though she pretended to leave the woman to her work, carving off a few more slices of the bear meat from the carcass. She had no real hunger to speak of but it would be nice to savor the flavor a little longer.

“Well, generally speaking, all the stories say that Dragons hate Humans and Faunus alike- we’re inferior, mortal, small and squishy and lacking in magic. So, after the Ancient Kings broke the Circle of Dragons and founded the mortal kingdoms, yeah, pretty much every legend says that Dragons are more likely to eat you than talk to you.”

Weiss picked up the bear skin- abandoned after Yang awoke- and began weaving her magic through the fur to pass the time. “For as terrible a beast as I should be, I must admit, the whole situation paints you in a rather dubious light.”

The woman grunted, pulling a water skin from her belt to help clear away the sap. “How do you figure?”

“Your sister got sick, and it seems the first thing you did was embark on a perilous journey to seek a cure from a terrible beast that should, by all rights, kill you on sight rather than listen to your plea.” She turned her head, looking at Yang. “You’re either insane or incredibly brave.”

“I like to think it’s a bit of both.” The woman stood up and popped her back before crouching back down to continue her work. “But, yeah, that’s basically my story. From start to finish, not too thrilling a read, I guess. There’s a few moments that make it kinda worth it or whatever but, yeah. Nothing to put in the kingdom library or anything. What about you?”

“What about me?” She picked up the bear claw and touched it with her magic as well, changing its form slightly.

“Well, you have to have a story, too. A real one, not just a bunch of gossip strung together to make you sounds like a monster.”

The Dragon paused. For as many centuries as she’d lived, she’d never told anyone her ‘story’ as it were. Her True Name was likely stricken from the records of her family and any memory of her in Atlas was erased. “Truth be told, your story is far more interesting than mine. I was born in Atlas, in the ruins of the Circle, one of the last in a noble line. Were things different, I may have ruled over one of these mortal kingdoms- my elder sister was first in line to inherit the crown, to be Queen of the Circle. But without our birthright, my family struggled to find a new purpose. They eventually settled on vengeance.”

“They?”

“My sister and I weren’t part of this decision, nor my younger brother, and all those who might’ve come after me.” She carved another slice of meat from the bear, gathering up her little distractions into one claw for the meantime. Yang had almost finished with her scales and they had far to go. “I decided that starting another war would do us no good. Even if we retook the world, there’s too few Dragons left. We will eventually die out... so I fled Atlas, to live out my centuries in peace. Yet, try as I might, I can never go more than a few decades without being found by someone, beseeching me to use my magic, granting something to increase their own power... and in the meantime, I sleep.”

“What about your sister?” Either confusion or trepidation lingered in the woman’s voice, pausing in her work for a moment. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps she’s somewhere out there... perhaps not.” She sighed. “If she wanted me to find her, I would have centuries ago.”

“I’m sorry, Weiss.” 

She turned her head, noting the frown on Yang’s lips. “What are you apologizing for?”

“It’s just... I’m asking you to save my sister’s life and you haven’t seen yours in so long...“

“That’s hardly something you can control.”

“Still... I, well, when our mom died, I read from her storybook to help my sister fall asleep. That’s the only reason I know your legend at all...” Her expression turned a little sadder. “But, there were only three legends about Dragons in that book. The Great White Dragon, who granted wishes at a terrible price, the Dragon of the North, who demanded more and more tribute until the ancient kings rose up to destroy him, and the Iron Dragon, who forged the armor and weapons for the Great War. All the rest were... unnamed, I guess.”

The Dragon sighed. “I don’t expect mortals to know more about my kind than I do... and, frankly, there’s not much to tell, anyway. Don’t trouble yourself with it.”

“I have a friend- Blake, she’s a Faunus from Menagerie, she might know some different legends.”

“What use would more legends be?” 

Yang scrapped off the last of the sap, stowing her knife and supplies. “Well, I mean, maybe she knows of another Dragon out there. I mean, centuries by yourself... that’s a long time to go without someone to talk to.”

“We are solitary creatures by nature. It doesn’t trouble me,” she said, looking away even as she grabbed the slice of meat with her tail and passed it back to the Human. “If I wanted company, I would seek it out myself.”

“But-”

“Eat your breakfast,” she said, a slight growl at the edge of her words. “We’ve the rest of our voyage ahead.”

Weiss heard the inhalation and braced herself for further needling but, much to her surprise, the woman merely accepted the meat and ate it quietly and quickly. It seemed the only thing that could distract Yang was her sister’s well being.

They took to the sky, with the woman hanging on tightly to Weiss’ spikes as she soared above the clouds. Unlike the day before, Yang seemed far more enamored with flying, no complaints as to her queasy stomach as she called out to birds or leaned over to see how far they were from the ground. At first, it proved mildly distracting, but eventually the Dragon found that dipping low or arching high on the wind would pull a surprised laugh from Yang. Banking sharply, rolling in mid air, diving down only to skim along the tops of trees or water before shooting up into the sky again- she hadn’t done such mundane tricks since she’d first learned how to fly so many centuries ago, and the woman seemed just as amused as she was back then.

Eventually, though, the island came into view. Yang tapped against her neck, directing her towards the northern side of the island, where a single house stood in the middle of a clearing. Spreading her wings wind, Weiss glided down to land in front of the lone house, surprised when someone came running out the door, brandishing a sword.

“Blake! Blake, it’s okay!” Yang shouted, sliding down the Dragon’s side and helped along by her tail, hitting the ground on both feet and waving her arms. “It’s fine, Blake! Everything’s okay!”

“You show up riding a Dragon and everything’s supposedly okay?” The Faunus- the cat ears atop her head were pinned back against her raven mane, true, but visible all the same. “Wait, is- is that- is that-”

“The Great White Dragon?” The woman smiled, turning and waving an arm towards Weiss. “Yeah. Here, in the flesh.”

The Faunus slowly relaxed, her ears standing up tall as realization struck. “You actually did it.”

“I said I would.” Worry creased her brows, a frown touching her lips. “How’s Ruby?”

Tearing her amber eyes away from the Dragon’s form, Blake looked at her friend with a pained expression. “She’s getting worse, Yang. I... I’m not sure if she’s going to be strong enough.”

“Then I suppose we arrived in time,” Weiss said, seeing the mounting terror in Yang’s expression and opting to cut it short. Gathering her magic, she set aside the bear skin and claw, her scales shining brighter than the sun for a moment as her form shifted, condensing down until she’d taken on a Human appearance. Judging by the looks of awe mixed with surprise, she supposed shapeshifting had been left out of the legends regarding her, and most other Dragons. Frankly, aside from being smaller and less overtly formidable, she didn’t think she looked too different, retaining her striking blue eyes and scales becoming pale skin and white hair, dressed in a simple, flowing dress with long sleeves. “There. I suspect it will be easier to see your sister now.”

“Uh... yeah?” Yang stared, mouth slightly agape, until the Faunus elbowed her in the gut. “I mean, yes, right, uh, this way.”

The woman led the way into the house, which actually looked in good repair, all things considered. She could see the furniture built by the blonde’s hands, likely a skill she learned from her father, and the patches in the roof from several storms. True to her word, Yang’s home wasn’t much, but it felt... far more lived in than the den that held the Dragon’s horde, despite being inhabited for several centuries. She could see the marks in the wooden doorways with ages scratched next to them, chronicling the aging of Yang and her sister, and various knick knacks made by small, inexperienced hands and put on display like the most invaluable treasures.

For all that Dragons may have once ruled, they never came close to building the simple foundations that came so naturally to Humans and Faunus alike.

Blake trailed after them, obviously a tad anxious, until the trio came to a room with its door closed, weak coughing coming from within. For a moment, the woman hesitated, her shoulders slumping, but she straightened up and opened the door, brushing into the room with a fake smile on her lips.

“Hey, Rubes. Guess who’s back?”

“Yang.” The voice that answered her was small and weak, but still happy.

As Weiss entered the room, her gaze fell upon the child- and perhaps she wasn’t a child in age, but her frame looked small and frail, silver eyes dull and hair limply hanging around her gaunt face. Whatever illness had plagued her, it was siphoning away her very life, and it put a frown on the Dragon’s face.

Still, Yang smiled wider, a bit of genuine joy filling her expression as she knelt beside the bed. “Look at my big, strong little sister. Can you sit up?”

“Yep.” Ruby pushed herself up a little, just a tad bit higher on the pillow, and flashed a smile. “See?”

“That’s my sis.” Lilac eyes darted her way for a moment. “There’s... someone I’d like you to meet.”

“Oh, hi. I’m Ruby.” The girl looked at her, offering a slightly bigger smile, and it must’ve taken so much strength to do that much, yet she did. It seemed every member of Yang’s family put their all into everything, no matter what. It was a rather charming familial trait. “What’s your name?”

“Now, sis, you can’t just ask her name like that.” Yang leaned closer to the bed, a smirk on her lips as she whispered loudly. “Dragon’s names are powerful things, remember?”

“No way.” Ruby smiled just a bit wider. “You’re a Dragon? For real?”

“Indeed I am.” She let her eyes shift for a moment, flashing back to their usual reptilian appearance, and earned a gasp from the girl. Taking a few steps into the room, she sat on the edge of the bed. “And your sister has asked a boon of me. I’m here to see if I can heal you.”

“But... Yang-”

“Shush, Ruby. It’ll be alright.” Yang took her sister’s hand in hers and lied, with a smile on her lips. “I promise. Everything will be okay.”

Before the sisters could begin arguing, Weiss reached out, setting the tip of her finger in the middle of Ruby’s chest and seeking out the heart of the disease. From the moment she touched skin, she could tell that this was no ordinary illness at all; it was a dark, ancient sort of magic, one that couldn’t be erased with a snap of her fingers. The Dragon would have to draw it out, pulling the thick strands of foul magic from deep within the Human’s body. As she pulled her finger away, it followed, the dark sludge seemingly seeping out from the center of the girl’s chest to chase after her digit, flowing into the palm of her hand and eventually forming into a ball. After she’d pulled the disease out, Weiss put her other hand over Ruby’s chest, imparting a touch of her magic to fill in where the darkness had eaten away. As the illness solidified into a ball, trapped in a sphere by her magic, Weiss stood from the bed and began to exit the room.

“Ruby? Rubes?”

“Yang?” The girl’s breathless surprise sounded rather elated, especially when it was followed by the sisters laughing in genuine happiness for perhaps the first time in far too long. “Yang! I- I feel great!” The Dragon stopped at the doorway, turning her gaze back in time to see blankets thrown aside as the girl jumped at her big sister, the two embracing and laughing, with Blake joining in on the merriment a moment later. Happiness, joy, sharing of achievements and pain- companionship, no matter its form, proved to be the mortals’ greatest weapon of all. “I’m all better! Maybe I’ll be as strong as you now!”

“You are stronger than me, Rubes. I’ve always known that.” Yang laughed and cried, clutching at her sister, and the relief and happiness brought a smile to Weiss’ lips just before she slipped out of the room and the house.

She resumed her normal form, the tiny ball that had almost filled her hand now nothing more than a grain between her claws. With a mighty flap of her wings, she took to the sky and pointed her way towards the sea, flicking the little ball of darkness out to be lost to its depths. Perhaps, in time, her magic would no longer be able to contain it, but it would grow weak without a host to feed off, and ancient magic like that didn’t do well without mortals or Dragons around to leech from anyway. Her task complete, she came back down to the ground in time for the three occupants of the house to join her outside.

“I guess that’s one wish granted, huh?” Yang’s smile dimmed slightly, glancing at her sister bringing back the brightness, the younger woman standing hardly as tall as her shoulders. They looked nothing alike, honestly, with one being blonde and muscular while the other had darker locks running with red and the frame of a sprinter, but in their smiles she could see the family resemblance, one of the elder sibling’s hands coming to rest on the younger’s shoulder. “This is the first time Ruby’s been out of bed in almost a year.”

“I feel better than ever!” Ruby looked up at the Dragon, wonder and boundless energy twining together in her every motion and word. “I bet I could wrestle you!”

“I’m sure you could,” Weiss replied, her lips pulling into a small smile.

For a moment, silence fell between them, but then Yang stepped forward. “So, I guess... it’s time for payment.”

“Payment?” Ruby’s brows furrowed, looking between her sister and the Dragon. “Yang, you said those stories were just stories-”

“Ruby-”

“No, no you can’t-” Silver eyes turned on Weiss, shining so bright with tears yet to fall. “Please, Great Dragon, you can’t take my sister-”

“Ruby, please-”

“Ruby,” Blake said, coming up behind the smaller of the two women and wrapping her arms around her, holding her still. “Yang knows what she’s doing.”

“But-”

“I have to pay the price.” The woman looked up, defiant and proud as ever. “That was our deal.”

“Indeed it was,” Weiss said, flames gathering on her tongue. She took a single step forward, craning her neck over the woman’s form and opening her jaws wide, allowing the blue fire to pour from her mouth and swirl around Yang’s frame. When they’d left her den the day before, she hadn’t yet decided how she would take her payment, but that morning had given her an idea. Now, she’d followed through with it... but not totally, and as the flames died out, her jaw snapping shut with finality, the Dragon made her decision. “There.”

Yang stood, shaking, staring at her arms where the flames had caught but not burned, because that was never Weiss’ intention. She flexed her fingers, rotated her wrists, and looked herself over, but seemed no closer to any conclusion at all. “What... happened?”

“The disease that nearly killed your sister took from her more than words can say. Had I merely taken the illness away, she would’ve died for all it had eaten,” the Dragon said, lowering her back legs until she sat before them, tail swirling around her claws. “I gave her some of my magic to keep her alive. Ruby Xiao Long-”

“Rose.” The girl piped up, ducking her head slightly. “My, uh, my name’s Ruby Rose.”

“... Ruby Rose, then.” She briefly recalled Yang mentioning they had different mothers but honestly couldn’t understand Human naming conventions to save her life. Regardless, she continued. “You have my magic in you, sustaining you, and you will live much longer than your fellow Humans because of it. You may even live as long as the Faunus do.” Blue eyes shifted from the girl to her sister. “Yang Xiao Long. Saving your sister’s life is more a punishment than a boon without someone to spend that time with, so I have given you some of my magic as well. You are both Dragonkin now- with some of the vast powers I possess now at your disposal. You are stronger, faster, and this will help you make up for lost time.” She reached over, picking up the bear pelt and claw and dropping them into Yang’s shaking arms. “I also leave you with these- this pelt with protect you from cold and heat, from arrow and sword, and this claw is now the strongest of weapons, worn just like your gauntlets.”

“Weiss?” The woman looked up at her, confusion showing plain in lilac eyes. “I- I don’t understand. I... I can’t- there’s nothing I have to pay the price for all this.”

“I decide the price,” she said, lifting her head high into the air. The Dragon turned, spreading her wings wide and preparing to leave. “And I’ve decided... you’ve already paid it.”

Originally, she hadn’t decided what she would demand of the woman for completing the task set before her. That morning, when Yang was bent over and scraping sap from her scales, she’d decided that having some company in her lonely den wouldn’t be so bad, and a Dragonkin could live nearly as long as herself, especially with her nearby to keep the magic strong. 

But after seeing the sisters together, and with this Faunus friend of theirs... Dragons had wrought enough damage upon the world. She wouldn’t break up yet another family to serve her own ends. Yang had the heart of a Dragon- proud and stubborn, but kinder than her size should allow- so it only made sense to give her the strength and form of one as well.

But she wouldn’t mention that. She would take the memories of being out in the world again and their conversations as payment enough and be done with it.

“Farewell.” She crouched low, taking one last look behind her at the shocked trio she was leaving behind, before taking off.

On the island below, she could see the people scrambling, her earlier landing causing a slight panic in the village proper, but she would be long gone by the time they arrived at Yang’s home. If the trio were smart, they’d convince the villagers they’d seen nothing at all, merely a trick of the mind; otherwise, she’d given them the necessary tools to survive a few locals causing trouble.

Weiss flew back to her den in the south, alone, and didn’t bother stopping or hunting on the trip.

Days bled into weeks, and weeks into months, while the Dragon lay atop her horde and sighed deeply. Sleep would not come to her as easily as it once had, instead remaining just out of reach as time marched on slowly, each hour filled with nothing but the shifting of coins and metal as she tried getting comfortable. Yet, Weiss remained wide awake and downtrodden, listlessly laying about her cave, tail tucked as tightly around her body as she could get it with her neck craned all the way around, so she could lay her head on her hip. As small as possible, and it matched her mood rather well.

That was the problem with allowing herself to be awoken. Inevitably, she would find herself distracted by whatever little curiosities the mortals would bring with them, sleep eluding her as fanciful daydreams invaded her mind. She could take Human form or even that of a Faunus and live among them for a time... but it would be nothing more than a brief foray in the grand scheme of things. Even lengthening the lifespans of those around her would eventually draw suspicion, and soon war would follow, and it was just easier to remove herself from the world. She’d hatched too late to be part of the days when Dragons ruled and being born a Dragon at all precluded her from the new world left in her kind’s wake. It would be better if she just stayed in her den, tucked away from everyone, and lived out her days in quiet solitude... in lonely misery.

The scrabbling of claws against stone caught her attention but she didn’t care. Perhaps it was her sister finally come for her, perhaps her father, perhaps some other Dragon who’d managed to survive all these years as she had come to take her horde... it didn’t matter. If she could not sleep to pass the time... perhaps it had come time for her to pass.

Her guest must’ve reached the mouth of the cave, the sounds ceasing save for the final whump of some sort of large fabric hitting the ground.

“I understand you’ve got a whole tradition thing going but... I’m still not sure I get the appeal of a cave.”

Weiss furrowed her brows, feeling as though the voice was familiar despite never hearing it before. Curious, she lifted her head and looked towards the mouth of her den. 

There, standing just inside her den, was another dragon, with gleaming golden scales and wings spread wide, even larger than Weiss’ own wingspan. Unlike her, the newcomer had two tone scales, orange spread throughout her underbelly, and the spikes along her jaw and back were of the same color. Although she hadn’t seen enough to truly have any frame of reference, she had to admit the other Dragon seemed rather... handsome, she supposed would be the proper word. A striking visage, one that didn’t so much as inspire territorial rage as... awe. She looked beautiful.

“I thought having a new perspective on the second go ‘round would make something just click but... no. It really doesn’t.” The Dragon stepped closer, lips curling into an eerily familiar smile as lilac eyes caught the light streaming in from overhead.

Weiss’ brows furrowed as she uncurled, entirely unbelieving of what she saw before her. “... Yang?”

The other Dragon- or Dragonkin, to be more precise, nodded. “You could’ve told me you gave me shapeshifting magic, by the way. I would’ve been here sooner.”

“Why are you here at all?” She got up, taking a few steps closer, still half certain this was all a dream, that perhaps she had fallen into a slumber and her mind seemed fit to torture her further. “What of Ruby? And Blake?”

“They’re back home, safe, healthy, and quite happy I might add.” Yang brought her wings in close to her body and stepped closer, lowering her head. “I didn’t run off without telling them, if that’s what you’re thinking. And flying made the trip a lot easier.” She looked away briefly, her focus apparently breaking as her form shifted back to Human. Draped over her shoulders was the bear skin and the claw gauntlet was affixed to her right wrist, and her clothing certainly looked in better repair than their first meeting, but it was still Yang looking up at her with those lilac eyes. “I’ve come to make another wish.”

Weiss blew out a breath through her nose, disappointed in herself for thinking, even briefly, that the Dragonkin had returned for any other reason. “You have magic of your own, now. You can grant your own wishes.”

“Not this one- I need you for it.” Defiant as ever, Yang stood before her with that determined glint in her eye. “I wish for you to return to Patch with me.”

The Dragon just stared at her. “Why?”

“Because centuries are really long- too long to be holed up in a cave by yourself.” A frown touched Yang’s lips. “You saved my sister, and gave both of us amazing powers... and then just left. After how badly everyone else has taken advantage of you, you gave us more than we could’ve imagined, and then... disappeared.” The frown deepened. “You didn’t even let me say goodbye.”

“You had a life before your journey. I let you return to it.”

“It’s not that simple.” The Dragonkin looked at her bearskin and claw. “Look, I’ve been around for a while...” She paused, taking into account her audience. “Okay, maybe not as long as you-”

“If that’s a slight against my age, you’re not doing yourself any favors.”

“Comparatively, I’ve still been around long enough to know a few things, okay? And I know no one wants to spend all their time alone.” 

“I’m a Dragon.”

“And I’m now one too, right? Or, part one, anyway.” Yang’s stubbornness was shining through rather well. “And I haven’t felt the sudden urge to squirrel myself away from the world for months on end, so, I’m pretty sure that’s not a ‘Dragon only’ thing.”

“Why are you suddenly so concerned about my well being?”

“Technically, I’ve been concerned about your well being since the beginning,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Weiss opened her mouth, preparing to argue back, but... that... was actually a good point. “Is this a Human thing?”

“Pretty sure it’s a ‘Yang’ thing... or maybe a ‘Xiao Long’ thing, not sure.” The Dragonkin sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Look... I missed you, okay? I spent six months looking for a great and terrible beast, and I found you instead- someone who’s kind, and caring, and maybe more than a little misunderstood in the grand scheme of things- then you whisked me back home to save my sister. I barely got any time to get to know you and you just... left... and that’s even less time now that I’m going to outlive most mortals, right? So... I...” Yang took a few steps back. “Okay, I’m not going to wish for it, because you don’t have to, but I’d really like it if you came back to Patch with me. I dug out a new cave for you and everything, just a few miles down the coastline on the mainland, so you can still be by yourself, if you want. Then it wouldn’t take a day and a half just to visit.”

Blue eyes drifted up to the fabric Yang must’ve dropped when she entered the den. “And what’s that for?”

“To transfer all... that.” She gestured towards the Dragon’s horde. “I figured you’d want to bring it with you.”

Weiss looked down at the Dragonkin, who matched her gaze evenly. “Let me see if I understand you correctly. You’re asking me to move my horde to a cave closer to your home because you... missed me?”

“Yeah, that’s basically it.” She nodded. “So... what do you say?”

It probably should’ve taken her longer to answer than she did, because the words left her mouth immediately.

It took two trips to transfer her entire horde, mostly because she didn’t want to overtax the Dragonkin’s new form. Apparently, it had taken her quite some time to teach herself to fly, and Ruby hadn’t figured out how to transform yet, so she was on her own in that department. Blake had written down Yang’s story about her trip to meet the Great White Dragon, and now it was the most popular version of the tale. Already, depictions of a white dragon were said to bring good fortune rather than ill omens. Weiss couldn’t imagine the surprise when the villagers of Patch learned about their new neighbor.

The new den was... big. It shouldn’t have surprised her- Yang’s Draconic form was quite larger than hers, after all- but it certainly felt a lot more empty than her old one did... but only sometimes. Because, while Yang would spend her time on Patch during the day, carving furniture or clearing fields, she would fly back to Weiss’ den at night. They would talk and eat meals together, sometimes involving the stories of where the treasures in her horde came from and other times Yang would recount stories from her childhood. Then again, sometimes Weiss would fly to Patch, and watch Yang work or help her, visit with Ruby and Blake, take a meal in the small house with the others.

Time passed slower now, but in a good way. She slept during the night, sometimes with Yang curled up beside her and light trails of smoke billowing from her nostrils while, other times, they would use a soft, fluffy ‘mattress’ in their Human forms. 

Weiss learned much in the months that followed, and she learned just as much from the stories Yang told as the questions she asked. At first, it all seemed innocent- learning more about Dragons and her side of the stories so often told in Vale- but then things turned more... odd, she would say. Finally, Yang stopped trying to be subtle and flat out asked if she looked good as a Dragon, if the new form made her appear attractive. Weiss thought it simply a bit of vanity- and she had to admit, she could be susceptible to such as well- and indulged her, giving her honest opinion. She couldn’t quite understand why that made Yang so happy... until she learned that the Dragonkin had been rather blown away by her Human form. 

Eventually, it was Blake who told both of them that they might as well be dating, all things considered, and while the concept didn’t quite apply to Dragons, Weiss could admit she didn’t mind that particular part of mortal culture. That, apparently, was all the go ahead Yang needed to begin courting her in earnest, and she did so in every way imaginable- by the customs of Humans and Dragons and even Faunus, just to make sure there were no misunderstandings at all.

As they laid down together at the end of a particularly long day, both curled up atop the horde- because it had become harder to think of these things as hers, exclusively, when she shared so much with Yang, and when Yang shared so much with her- Weiss began to think that, maybe, the world could do without Dragons... but perhaps it could do with a few more Dragonkin. It would require an ancient sort of magic, the kind that she had no need for before, but as Yang- her friend, her lover, her mate- shuffled closer to her, twining their tales together and nosing her way beneath the white Dragon’s neck so their heads could rest side-by-side, she thought it might be nice to indulge.

For one who’d spent centuries in solitude, she’d grown fond of having company. 

“Yang,” she said, hoping to catch the Dragonkin before she’d dropped off into a deep slumber.

“Hmmm?”

“Has anyone begged a wish of you yet?”

Her brow furrowed, yellow scales shifting in a decidedly more human version of the expression. “No?”

“May I be the first?”

She chuckled, murmuring softly. “Sure. What’s your wish?”

“I wish for offspring,” she said, a mischievous smile on her lips that grew wider as one lilac eye snapped open.

“You mean kids, right? Children?” She could feel the restless energy running through Yang’s form, all thoughts of sleeping abandoned for the moment. When Weiss nodded, she smiled wide. “Okay, but there’s a price to pay!”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“If we do this, we raise ‘em the Human way. No leaving them in some forest for two decades to see if they’ll survive.”

Already, she could imagine the panic infecting the Dragonkin’s voice when she was eventually faced with the very terrifying prospect of a young Dragon accidentally setting fire to everything around them but realized that, as a mortal woman, Yang had traveled half a world away to find her and hadn’t been deterred. She would stubbornly hold a baby Dragon even as it deliberately set fire to her and never think to complain, just to prove a point. She still hadn’t decided if it was more brave or insane. “Very well. We’ll do things your way.”

Yang immediately moved her head, rubbing their faces together in an affectionate gesture. “We’re going to make great parents.”

“I think you’re right,” she replied. “But remember this conversation in about... five years or so.”

“Why?”

“No reason.”

It seemed her price would have a price all its own. Frankly, she looked forward to it.

Author’s Note: If you’re wondering why it took a touch to turn Ruby into a Dragonkin, meanwhile Yang had to have fire breathed on her... the literal goddamn answer is Weiss wanted to be dramatic. *spreads hands* Sometimes, I swear I don’t control them. But, I also like to think that, while Ruby basically got her body and soul reinforced with Weiss’ magic, Yang got a damn near full conversion, hence the differing methods (also the main reason Ruby hasn’t figured out how to shapeshift yet).

[rkpcy]

███▒░  ► BERMUDA TRIANGLE - ZICO FT CRUSH, DEAN ( 0:00 - 1:31 performed live; backing from 1:31 - 1:52; click here for dancing reference )

give it up for: park chanyeol ! location: trc triple threat challenge @ yongsan date: may 21, 2017

chanyeol isn’t an idiot.

well, at least, not all the time.

he knows he isn’t exactly the greatest dancer, and his singing is average at best, but he’s never been one to let challenges keep him from pursuing his dreams, and this latest opportunity isn’t any different, uncooperative limbs and untrained vocals be damned.

chanyeol does actually consider himself somewhat of a triple threat, but his singing and dancing have no part in it. despite his often self-absorbed jokes and quips, there’s a lot that chanyeol isn’t confident in, but his rapping, writing, and composing are things he’s spent his whole life doing, and if there’s anything he’s learned from his mother and grandmother and stepfather, it’s that anything is possible with hard work.

and he, too, is perhaps a prime example of that. the statistics for someone like him, raised in poverty, in a drug-infested neighborhood, going to a public school notorious for its low test scores and worn down teachers, was that he’d fall into the status quo, a forgotten statistic, another sad story with a predictable ending. and, for a while, he was just that, a statistic, partaking in activities that nearly landed him in jail. but after such a rude awakening, he’d clawed his way out of the hole he’d dug for himself and has moved on, all the while keeping the lessons learned ingrained in his memory.

and now he stands on stage, still working hard in the hopes that one day, it’ll all pay off.

“i’m park chanyeol.”

the lights feel brighter than the rays of the sun reflecting off the sands of venice beach, and the crowd looks like the calm waves of low tide. it’s nowhere nearly as calming, though, because despite all the time chanyeol has stood on stage, the thrill and nervousness never really dies down. he thinks the moment it does is the moment he needs to retire, and that’s when he’s well and dead.

the seconds tick off as soon as he’s settled dead center on stage, and it feels as if he’s standing up on the highest peak where the air is thinner and he can barely breathe, but it doesn’t matter, because the hot blood that rushes through his veins is enough to make him feel alive. 

one, two three, four, five. it’s showtime.

손목에 Rolex 이젠 boring 길거릴 도배해 우리 노랜 놀이라 보기엔 이건 범죄 don't let 'em in let 'em in, get out my zone we we we never know, we we we never talk we we we criminal don't let 'em in let 'em in get out my zone

he starts off with one of his weaker talents, one not as bad as his dancing, but definitely still in need of work. chanyeol knows this. he knows that he’s untrained, and that he lacks control and that the notes he’s trying to hit are nearly out of his range, but no one else should ever know. no one else should be able to tell that he lacks confidence, and that’s why he sings with the utmost confidence, staring out into the middle of the audience as if they were all just once giant beast, dead center, gazes locked. he’s taking this head on.

once he’s done singing, he launches straight into his rap, the skill in which he has the most confidence (a fact that, hopefully, no one would be able to tell). his voice is a solid wall of fearlessness, with bricks of charisma, mortar of flow. he raps as if he’d written the lyrics himself, taking certain liberties with cadence and rhythm, turning the verse into his own.

who 3 fancy’s in here 삽 대신 마이크 쥐고한 곳만 팠던 idiots what we do? 툭 냈다 하면 boom 불과 몇 년 후 자연스레 장악한 media 뭉치면 닥치고 있어도 콘텐츠 huh 뭔 일이 난 거야 97년도엔 huh 역시나 과시는 부담 없는 소재 huh 얘들아 빡치면 인터넷 접속해 ahh

at first, he’d contemplated auditioning with a self-composed track, knowing he’d be at his highest performing his own piece, but it’s a calculated risk performing someone else’s song in that he isn’t showcasing himself at 100%, but rather at a deliberately stunted level. after all, as the saying goes, you should never lay all your cards on the table. and if he were to bare it all now, then where would be the surprises for later?

his voice  is a rich, deep baritone with a gravely timbre, gaining asperity as the seconds tick by. but time has no effect on him. with every moment that passes, he takes it and breathes life into it, makes sure that he’s the focus of it, a force of nature so undeniable that he becomes a tidal wave of stage presence, the embodiment of the lyrics, confident and bold and absolutely fearless.

yeah, it’s my time.

anybody, anybody 오브제 역할이 왜 넘봐 메인 자리 세대를 뒤바꿔 대세가 되어 네 장래희망이 된 세 얼간이 not cocky 하루 동선은 무대 위 또는 작업실 life of 오천만 분의 일 하쿠나마타타 날개 쳐 파드닥 get money, get famous yeah, it's our times

there’s a marked change in his tone, the aggressive inflection of his voice completely dissolving into a more laid back style while still retaining the confident and brazen demeanor. he moves about the stage as if he owns it, as if he’s a millionaire walking around his own home, a hotel owner strolling through the lobby of his own building, making eye contact with anyone who even glances in his way, making it so that he cannot be ignored.

the rap-singing (drake-style, as he so affectionately calls him) had been somewhat of a challenge for him at first. he’d concentrate on one aspect over the other, either making sure he’s in tune or making sure the flow isn’t lost, but after spending hours practicing, he’s come to realize that neither of those are essentially more important than the other, and perfection in both is, unfortunately for him, a pipe dream. so as he performs now, he focuses on what he knows best, on improvising, on using confidence and charisma to pull him through it, getting into the pocket of the backing track, riding the waves of the rhythm. he’s right where he needs to be, in his domain.

누울 자릴 제대로 보고 누워야지 ya’ll fake bitches tryna act like me 앉아서 멍만 때려도 내 소파 위에 (쏟아지는) mula mula we gon pour up murder murder 숨을 죽여 상쾌해 네 머리 위에 공기 nobody can't come over here

bermuda

he utters his final word for the performance, and drops the mic, literally. he actually flinches because the feedback that results is so loud, but he integrates it into the dance that follows. (the term dance here is used very, very lightly.) his voice still echoes through the air through the backing track, allowing him to focus more on the way his body seems to disobey his every command, and he’d maybe be embarrassed about it if he had any shame at all.

which he doesn’t.

so he continues to dance. he may not know how to roll his body, and he may not know how to make sharp, crisp movements, and he may not know how to create beautiful lines or how to glide smoothly across the floor, but he knows how to get into the pocket, how to utilize each and every beat, every sound of the bass, every cadence of the rhythm. so he moves with them, attempts to pop or lock or krump or something, and while he probably looks like one of those wacky, flailing, inflatable tube men car dealerships use to advertise their sales, no one can tell him he didn’t enjoy doing it. no one can tell him he held back.

and, he thinks, that’s the best he can ask for. at least, when it comes to dancing.

soon enough, his two minutes is up, and he stands out of breath in the middle of the stage. he’s pretty sure he’s pulled some muscles because despite all the sports he’s played, he’s almost certain his body has never moved in those ways before. he hobbles off stage once the spotlight is off, but he still stands tall, shoulders squared, proud. he’d laid himself bare on that stage, displaying talents in singing, rapping, and dancing confidence.

he’s a god damn triple threat, and no one call tell him any different.

[lethe-distillery-blog]

Nadir

“Any weekend plans?” I jerked at my desk as the words broke through. I looked up to see my coworker standing there, tilting her head curiously as she kept staring at me with an unsettling amount of intensity.

 I hedged a little, trying to gauge what I had been missed in my wild fantasies and overwhelming thoughts. “Nothing too special,” liar, “just excited to finally be out of here. It’s been a long week.” If anyone would get that sentimentality it was she, she was constantly complaining about how much work she had to do, how tired she was, and this week had been rough. Several new clients had signed on and that in itself was always a nightmare, the fact we were on a shortened week didn’t help matters either.

 She stared at me long and hard, a surprising amount of astuteness in her expression as she eyed me curiously. “I agree, but it’s not like you, you’ve been off in your own thoughts, and keep looking at the clock like you���re expecting the start of something that the rest of us should be privy to.”

 Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it! I did my best to not get caught up in my thoughts. I was proud of keeping my mind blank, keeping unnecessary thoughts at bay and focusing on the here and now. Romantic whimsy and fantastical musings had never gotten me anywhere in my life so I had trained myself to not allow them in. To let go of the little girl and step into the role of the woman I was meant to be. And I had nearly convinced myself that it was working, that I could be this way without consequence, that I could be happy here in this world that I had made for myself. And then, he happened. When I had finally convinced myself that there was no romance except for in stories, no sensuality except for what came in wild fantasies of lackluster sex, he came.

 I fought to school my expression and keep the silly smile off my face that I knew came at the mere thought of him. Him. He was, in a word. Overwhelming. He took from me. He challenged me, he forced me to see a wider world than I wanted to, he took all that I had built around myself to keep myself sane, to keep myself from being disappointed with what I had around me, and shattered it with nothing nothing more than simply existing.

 An anomaly. An old soul in a modern world, a romantic in a throwaway society, a beast in a gentleman’s body. Just the mere thought of him brought to mind my favorite of his features; eyes so vivid and piercing that I felt consumed by nothing more than a look. His size, at over six feet in height he took up a lot of space, but it wasn’t in something so simple to explain as his size. It was his aura, powerful, masculine, and confident in a way that wasn’t overbearing. Large hands, unusually hairless and only with few scars for a man with such a rough and tumble early years. They were knowing hands. Things that wandered, seemingly without his conscious thought, to locate deviant places in which they could practice their fine touch. A tongue that should be gilded in silver and hung for all of its talents. It could tell me the most wicked of things during the most intimate of times, it could tease with nothing more than the spoken word. But to claim its skills as merely that would be like calling a diamond nothing more than a commonplace rock. It teased and toyed over my body in an erotic foreplay of vivid sensation, it licked my skin as he devoured my body, spoke to me promises of pleasure as he consumed my mind, and most damning of all, whispered to me tales of a love that I had long thought extinct, as it consumed my soul.

 I looked up at my coworker, trying to think of some explanation that would help get myself out of this hole I had unknowingly dug for myself, I knew that he had affected me, I knew that he had swooped in and radically changed things in a way I was still feeling dizzy from. I had begun smiling for no reason, that had certainly been telling. As someone that suffers from the dreaded RBF, Resting Bitch Face, syndrome can tell you, you just get used to people constantly asking you what’s wrong because you constantly look sad or angry to them because you’re not smiling all the time. And now, here I was, smiling all the damned time. I found him in my thoughts where he shouldn’t be. Stupid things I shouldn’t even care about. What was he doing? Was he sleeping better? Was he eating? I knew he didn’t take care of himself as much as I thought he should and it irritated the shit out of me that I cared so much that it came to me when I really had better things to do. The phone rang, and I hid a breath of relief that it would give me an out. I watched her walk away, though she did give me a backwards glance as I picked up the phone, “Hello, -”

 “Hello sweet,” the smooth voice interrupted my usual greeting and I felt so many sensations at once. My mind flashed to him again, the mental image of him lounging back in his chair, head tilted back slightly, glasses catching the afternoon sun. His eyes would be closed, he didn’t enjoy the sun much since it gave him constant headaches. I felt my thighs tighten and I hated that I was already wet at nothing more than the sound of his voice.

 “What are you doing calling me?” I hissed, looking around making sure no one overheard me, I was rattled, and he knew it.

 “I simply wanted to hear the sound of your voice.” He was implacable, his voice holding the slight edge of a smile as he spoke. “Is that such a bad thing?”

 “No,” I sighed. The bad thing was the vivid thoughts going through my thoughts right now that I couldn’t seem to stop.

 “I was thinking,” his voice dipped a little. “I miss being able to call you as often as I once did, when you showed up for work before anyone else and I could call you and make sure that you came for me,” I fucking hated him, my whole body tightened as he spoke, nipples hardening against my will, my breathing coming out harder despite my attempts to control myself. “I still have those photos you know, the ones I had you take for me that got you so hot and bothered that you practically screamed when I finally let you cum for me.”

 “Stop.” It came out harsher than I meant, “you need to stop, I can’t, not here, not now.”

 He ignored me as he finished his thought, “I remember everything about you. You know. The sounds that you make when I please you, the sound of you begging me to satisfy you, but mostly, what keeps me up at night, is the sound you make when you’re happy.” I hated when he sounded so, pathetic wasn’t the right word but it was the most I could think of with my whole body shaking the way it was. I didn’t blame him. Not really.

 I had pushed him away recently, and now I was letting him back in. I couldn’t stand being with him and yet what was harder was being away. Feeling like I was missing out on sunshine and goodness though he claimed to be nothing of the sort. As lonely and isolating as my hell had been beforehand it was so much harder now, knowing that he was out there, knowing that he wanted me in ways that I couldn’t even fathom. Self preservation told me to shove him away, to keep driving walls between us in hopes that eventually I would push him away and stop needing him so much. But inside I knew that if I ever succeeded, that if I ever managed to hurt him enough where he finally left. That the desolation would be absolute and then I truly would be alone in my self imposed isolation. I didn’t know which one I wanted.

 “You can’t do this when I’m at work,” even though a part of me thrilled that he was thinking of me, that he desired me so much that he called me and told me how unbearable it was. “I can’t, I just can’t.”

 “I know.” He let out a long slow breath, and I felt his own control slipping into place. “I just need you sweet.” And it wasn’t all sexually, and that, that scared me. If it was only sexually I could deal with that, I could somehow function with that and deal with him in my own ways. But no, he took from me. Gave more in return, but I knew he took from me, as I would find pieces of him later when I was lying awake at night and the thoughts would creep in. We talked for a few more minutes, about mundane things, after he had gotten his raging hormones under control. And I didn’t want to admit it, but I had missed talking with him. Hearing his sarcastic point of view, his quite comfort and understanding when I told him about the latest drama around the office. He gave so much to me. He listened, he soothed, he made me laugh. What stung the most, what killed me the most was what he asked for I couldn’t, or wouldn’t give him.

 “I’ll let you go back to work, we can’t have people think that you’re slacking too much over there, and as you said, you still have some things to wrap up before you get done for the day.” I did and I was shocked to see how fast fifteen minutes had blown by, I hadn’t even looked at the clock, I only had an hour left of shift. “I’ll see you later. I miss you.” We hung up because what I couldn’t tell him was that I missed him too. I cradled the phone for a long moment, the silent crackle of the dead line turning to a low beeping tone when I finally set the phone back on the dock before going back to work. My thoughts tumbling around inside my head like change in a dryer.

 “I told you that I could make everything better.” His voice was coy, laced through with sensuality and meaning. I looked up at him from my position spread out on the bed, my wrists tied together and above my head with my legs spread as they were tied to each foot of the bed. It was a humbling position, a clear mark of his dominance in a way that I had been naive to before him. Here, I had no control and that was what it made it so terrifying, and erotic. His eyes flickered over me with the power of a caress that I could feel soul deep. My back arched, my pussy soaked, my need apparent, for him. “You look so exquisite there,” he had the most delightful use of archaic vocabulary, “so divine and perfect.” I was far from it, I was soft in the wrong places, but yet the way that he looked at me, that damned tongue sliding out to lick his lips, “you look so fucking helpless.”

 I shuddered. I couldn’t help it. I felt like prey trapped before him. The way his whole body was silhouetted when mine was aglow from the candlelight, the way his breathing came out with the slur of a snarl prefacing each. It was something akin to an instinctual aphrodisiac that had me pining for his attentions. The fact that he knew how to wring every single ounce of my pleasure out of me was only an added gratuity. Something that made this man soar past something as commonplace as man to a god. I swallowed as he picked up a candle and looked at it carefully, my whole body tensing in expectation of the sensation. It came as pinpricks of heat that rapidly cooled, it wasn’t so much painful as it was awakening. My nerves, which were already painfully aware of his every nuance screamed out their spirited song and I moaned into the silken gag he had affixed earlier. My mind, going blessedly numb as he worked his ministrations on me.

 I was soaked by the time he slipped a finger into me. “Mm,” it came out on an exhale, the sound of his pleased approval making me twitch as a second digit joined it’s mate inside my hot and slick body. My body had small droplets of the clear wax spotted along it that rapidly cooled and hardened to white disks, every single inch of me was begging for him now, in that mindless sort of way when you finally give in to understanding that your body knows what’s best for you. That’s what I always felt around him, that my body knew best, and that, that is what was dangerous about him. “You’re so damned tight.” I moaned, my thoughts faltering as he started moving his digits in and out of me. “So damned wet.” I could hear it, the slick sounds of my body accepting the invasion, the way he spread me, the way he toyed with my clit with a feather-light, masterful touch that drove me absolutely insane for him. “I knew you wanted me.” I did.

 He teased me with his fingers, sliding them in until his palm pressed against my heated skin before withdrawing them until just the tips brushed against my folds. His mouth, fuck his mouth. It toyed over me in sensual licks and kisses, toying at the hollow of my throat, the sides of my neck, and my tracing the shell of my ear with his tongue. But when he paid attention to my breasts did I almost lose it. I screamed for me, thrashing, begging him for more but he had bound me well. His tongue worked me, teasing my nipples until they it was nearly painful for him to keep touching me. The nerves begged for a mercy that I knew he wouldn’t provide them, my pussy tightened around his fingers, sheathing them, my sanity starting to fray at the edges as my orgasm built. And, like the virtuoso he was, he drew it out. He preformed beautifully, building up the ascension until I was screaming for him, just like he promised me I would. And when I came, when I finally felt my world splintering apart I heard his voice, omnipotent as ever. “Now.”

 I collapsed into myself after what could have been minutes or hours, time had no meaning in the zenith he took me to. All there was was pleasure, and him; pleasure because of him. I opened my eyes slowly to see him there, his naked glory accented with sharp lines of shadow and light and I drank my fill. He was a large man, tall and built well he had always reminded me of a bear, inhumanly large and powerful. His hands took my hips and I felt my whole body tense in expectation. There was no way to describe what sex with him was like except for savage, undomesticated, tameless, and brutal. He was a wild animal, a creature that knew only that it wanted one thing. Me. “Please,” it came out in a scratchy whisper, I hadn’t even known he had removed my gag.

 He didn’t disappoint. He thrust into me with one solid gyrating motion of his hips, his hands tightening on me with a bruising amount of force. Marking me, claiming me, and I knew that that is what I needed, to be his, at least for right here, right now. His hips connected on mine with the sharp smack of flesh on flesh, my whole body jerked, my breasts bounced. “Oh gosh yes.” I needed him, I needed this, oh he felt so good. He felt like he was ripping me open with every thrust, forcing my legs apart, my pussy feeling his cock sliding in and out of me with every erratic push forward, one hand went from my hip to my throat and I could practically feel my eyes roll in satisfaction and bliss at the claiming, at the dominance.

 It was insane, how he drove me to such degrees of lust filled madness. How he could open this pathway to sensuality that I had never known existed before him, this way that even this, the most carnal, the most beastly of all passions, still made me feel like I was something, to use his word, exquisite. He took me like an animal, he treated me like I needed to be treated, like a woman, not just the goddess, not just the fragile beauty that enjoyed flowers and poetry but an honest to god woman that had her own needs and desires that he was all too happy to fulfill. He positively savaged me. Ripping me apart until there was nothing left of me as he consumed me. “Cum for me baby,” I looked into his eyes, flashing in their sockets with their inhuman intensity, I knew he wouldn’t remember a thing, I knew that here, now, I was free. “Cum for me baby,” I encouraged him by thrusting my hips against his, my whole body vibrating as I fought my own need to climax, “you look so beautiful when you cum.”

 He howled and showed me that spectacular visage, that inhuman power that he exuded. A feral predator whose cage I had jumped into. I watched him come apart at the seams until my own pleasure ripped me into the torrent, joining him there in that moment of perfection. I could feel my body milking him, I could feel his hands tightening on my body, I could hear my name somehow formed in a sound altogether feral. And yet, all I could think before I finally teetered into oblivion was, don’t let go.

 I set my phone aside as the door opened, he brought with him a tray and I shook my head at his thoughtfulness. After he had untied me, rubbed my wrists and ankles and assured himself I was alright he had gotten up and came back with this. He gave me the tea and set the chocolates aside for later with a paperback under it, though he kept the title away from me. I was oddly giddy with the thrill that he would read to me later. And finally he took the final item on the tray before setting the tray aside and set the lavender rose in my hair. I ignored my phone as it vibrated, I already knew what it said. His touch was soft on my cheek as he stroked it. “I just want to be a part of your life sweet, I will never force you to pick between me and your family.”