#last year we held that oc tournament and we just really wanted to make sure the one who won was actually available for artfight

[transpandaart]

📜Meeeet Jilly Bean! This emotionless candy woman claims to have been originally human, before reforming 'scapegoat' villains.

She's currently one of Maya's assistants in fictive rehabilitation, citing writing tropes to help characters understand why it happened to them.

You can find Jilly Bean on artfight here! I think she's our last OC we'll be drawing for artfight this year, and we'll try to focus more on drawing other's OC's for the rest of artfight, ahaha ;^^

[nats--sw]

Gold chain (pt1) | Leah Williamson

Leah Williamson x tennis player!reader For the past year, Leah had been a big fan of yours, and now her mother wasn't missing any opportunity to tease her during Roland Garros. warnings: none, just fluff and slow burn note: this one is long (maybe?), sorry about that. The next part has more Leah and reader interactions, I promise. This was written with an oc, i changed everything at the last minute so sorry if there are any mistakes there,, pt2 my masterlist

Leah Williamson, England captain, European champion, Miss Arsenal.

That was how she was publicly recognised within the world of football, a sport that had always been her passion, but lately, or rather, since she had been invited to Wimbledon in 2023, she had begun to share some of that passion with tennis. 

She explained to everyone that she fell in love with tennis during a deep conversation with the legendary Billie Jean King. While there was truth to that, tennis didn't captivate her so much because of the sport itself, but rather because of a certain player, who since that Wimbledon semifinal, Leah had watched almost all of her matches. 

“Believe me, that girl Y/N is great, don't let this match fool you” Billie had muttered to her after witnessing your unfortunate loss in the last set.

And who was Leah to doubt the words of the greatest tennis player in history?

Since then, Leah has managed to watch as many of your matches as possible. And yes, you were undeniably beautiful, but what truly captivated Leah was the elegance with which you played. Each swing of your racket held a mesmerizing grace that left Leah spellbound every time.

And now, with a break after the final game of the European qualifiers, it was the opportunity for a holiday.

"Hey, Leah!" Georgia barged into her room on the last day of camp, now that they were back in England. "Got any plans for this week?"

"Yeah," Leah replied, without giving any details, more focused on packing her suitcase than engaging in conversation with her friend.

"Where? With who?" Georgia asked, raising her eyebrows suggestively. She knew Leah tended to keep her romantic interactions with girls in private, not just from the public but even from her own friends.

"With my mom, you idiot," Leah replied, rolling her eyes. "We're headed to France."

"Now? What's so interesting about France?" she asked, with a look of disgust on her face. Sure, there were plenty of interesting things to do in France, but Georgia didn't want to hear anything related to that country for a couple of days.

"Roland Garros? Does that ring a bell for you?" Leah retorted, her tone laced with sarcasm.

"Huh? Since when do you go to another country for a tennis match?"

"My mom likes it" Leah lied smoothly, without any hint of shame. If only Georgia knew that Leah had sweetened the deal for her mother with promises of fine wines and breathtaking views post-match.

"Well, that's too bad... but text me if your plans change,"

Leah nodded, though it was in vain because she wouldn't change going to France to see her favorite tennis player.

"Who are we rooting for?" Amanda said, taking a sip of her drink, not really interested in what was happening on the clay.

"Uh, we're impartial," Leah said, settling back in her seat.

Four games had already been played, each player winning their respective games. 

"I have a feeling we're rooting for the girl in the white visor," her mother said. 

Leah looked at her, pulling her sunglasses down a little. "What?"

"Well, you make a face every time the other player makes a point."

Leah said nothing to that comment, her attention had returned to you, now one point away from managing to break your opponent's serve. It was an important match, a semifinal, so every point would be valuable to put you in the final of the tournament.

Still not saying anything back to her mother, Leah held her breath for a few seconds. The ball was going back and forth across the court, but you, with impressive precision, hit the ball with a spin that made it graze the top of the net. For a moment, it seemed like it might fall short, but the ball dropped just over, catching your opponent off guard.

"Wonderful" muttered Leah, crossing her arms with a smile, ready to enjoy the rest of the match. 

There were times when tennis was mentally overwhelming. You felt this every time you played, and it had cost you a lot of matches in the past. A whole court filled with hundreds of people, all watching you, many anxiously waiting for you to make a mistake that could cost you the match. It was more than overwhelming.

That's why, at times, you had to pause your mind and take a deep breath, despite how difficult that was for you.

You only needed one more game to win the set and secure a place in the Roland Garros final. No pressure, of course.

The advantage was that you were serving in this game, but ironically, this often made you even more nervous. The pressure of delivering a strong serve was immense. 

The crowd was overwhelming, so many eyes watching you, so many unfamiliar faces focused on you, watching every move, your family and team sitting behind you. In this position you couldn’t look at them to calm down. 

You needed to focus your eyes on something, to steady your nerves. As you walked towards your position, after drying your face with the towel, you looked in a diagonal direction, right towards the area where you were supposed to put the ball. 

As you raised your gaze slightly, something caught your eye. In the stands, amid a sea of blonde and brown heads, was a woman with striking red hair. The woman stood out, not only because of her hair, but also because she was the only person not looking at you, instead, her attention was elsewhere.

You stole a glance at the red-haired woman as you inhaled deeply, preparing for your serve. With a fluid motion, you raised her arm, tossed the ball into the air and delivered a powerful strike.

Ace!

The ball zipped across the court with velocity, catching your opponent off guard. Convinced it would fly out, your opponent made no attempt to chase after it.

A satisfied smile tugged at your lips.

Once more, your gaze flickered toward the red-haired woman in the stands. Drawing another deep breath, you focused intensely as you prepared to serve again. With a determined flick of your wrist, you sent the ball hurtling across the court, this time, your aim wasn’t for an ace, but rather to set up a play that would complicate the things for your opponent.

Within minutes the score stood at 40-15. Just one more point. 

You didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, but you craved to close the match with a decisive point, one point to make it clear why you were here.  

So, you adjusted your visor, brushed your fingers over the gold chain hanging from your neck and looked up, for the first time looking directly at the woman, not even getting a good look at her, because the woman was quite far away, but the woman's disinterest helped you to clear your head and focus your mind, ignoring the bunch of other faces watching you. 

Just one more point.

You lifted the ball, the familiar weight of your racket in your hand, a quiet groan escaping your lips before you swung. Then, the sound of the impact echoed through the entire court and as the ball bounced on the clay.

Ace!

Leah was up from her seat at the same time as you fell backwards onto the clay. 

"That was incredible," Leah exclaimed, joining the chorus of applause. 

"Incredible?" Amanda asked without understanding that much. However, what truly caught her off guard was the sight of her daughter like that, grinning from ear to ear. It was common to see her like that when it came to football matches, but not usually during tennis.

"Are you kidding? It was phenomenal! If you hadn't been glued to your phone, you’d have felt the same as the rest of us!" Leah retorted.

"So, did we win?" Amanda inquired.

"Well, you have won a few more days in France," Leah replied, attempting to temper her excitement. "The final is in two days."

"Do we have tickets?”

"Of course, I purchased them in advance. I already knew Y/N would make it to the finals."

Amanda regarded her daughter suspiciously. "You're not into gambling, are you?"

"Of course not," Leah replied with a grin. "But if I were to bet on her I'd do pretty well”

As they made their way toward the exit, following the crowd, Amanda broke the silence. "Do you know that player?"

"No… not personally" Leah replied "But I watched her play at Wimbledon last year."

"Did she win?"

"No" Leah shook her head, a hint of disappointment in her expression. "She lost"

"So, she's not that good?" 

"Actually, she's quite impressive," Leah defended you. "She went up against the number two player in the world."

"What rank is she?" Amanda inquired.

"Four," Leah answered.

"Then she's not the best," Amanda said confidently.

"Mom!" Leah nudged her playfully while Amanda held back her laughter. "You couldn't even hit the ball."

"Neither could you, I remember your attempts at tennis when you were little," Amanda chuckled. "But what I don't get is why you're defending her so much"

"Because she's great, she’s talented! Look over there!" Leah pointed behind her, where a large screen displayed the game's results alongside your photo.

Amanda's eyes immediately gravitated toward the image, ignoring the points table. "And she's quite pretty," she remarked, studying your face for the first time.

"And she's talented," Leah emphasized, feeling a blush creeping up her ears. Thankfully, her hair concealed it from her mother's curious gaze.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," Amanda replied with a smile.

It was a tough match, quite a tough match, but that's what you would expect in a Roland Garros final. 

The first set ended 6-4 in favor of Iga Swiatek.

You had faced her numerous times throughout your professional career, but had never managed to defeat her in an official match. Despite your old friendship with Iga, there was an undeniable intensity when you two met on the court, and you were determined to shine this time.

As the first set concluded, you sank into your chair, you had to use the break to ease the tension in your legs. Uncapping your water bottle, your fingers instinctively found the gold chain around your neck, adorned with your initials. It may have seemed superstitious, but wearing it had always brought you luck on the court.

Suddenly, your coach's voice pierced the distance, signaling for you to relax and loosen up your play. You brushed off the advice, as if you hadn't already realized that. Ignoring your coach's guidance was risky, but you already had your own voice in your mind against you. 

Taking a long sip of water, you refocused your gaze forward. Then, something caught your attention.

The same woman from the previous match was in the stands again. You hadn't noticed her before, too engrossed in your opponent. Again, that was the key to your game, you needed to block out distractions and focus on yourself and the ball. Just like you had done during the semifinal match, you needed to tune out everything else.

"How many points before your girl loses?" Amanda said, glancing sideways at Leah, who was leaning forward, her elbows on her knees and a faint blush on her cheeks. According to Leah it was from the sun hitting her face, but Amanda knew her daughter well enough.

"Don't pester me, now's not the time," Leah replied, sitting up straight in her seat and adjusting her sunglasses.

"I'm not pestering you, but you claimed that girl was fantastic. Yet, from what I've seen today, the other player seems better to me."

"Well, she's number one after all"

"So, you admit she's the best."

Leah rolled her eyes. "Y/N just needs to take a breath. After this break she'll bounce back, you'll see. She'll shut your mouth"

"If you say so."

And so it happened. You had won the second set 4-6, breaking Iga's serve at the crucial moment. The victory was almost surreal, even Leah found it hard to believe.

"Stop biting your nails," her mother said, giving Leah's leg a slap as she saw her nervous habit.

"She's going to win," Leah said without looking at her mother, her gaze fixed on you, as you refreshed yourself by wetting your hair before the final set.

"Leah, you've been saying that since yesterday," Amanda remarked, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in her tone.

"I’m excited," Leah defended.

Amanda shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "If she wins, will you approach her?"

"Are you being serious?" she said, shaking her head "What would I even say?" Leah replied, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"You've been crushing over her for days. I've never seen you like this with someone you don't even know," Amanda teased.

"It's not a crush. I just admire her athletic ability and determination, that's all," Leah insisted.

"Well, then you two have something in common. I don’t see why you don’t talk to her" 

"Because... I just don't," Leah stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"What a coward," Amanda teased.

The set stood at 4-5 in your favor, but now it was Iga's turn to serve, and she was already in position. You shifted your weight from side to side, preparing for the shot, a smile gracing your lips as you caught sight of the red-haired woman just above Iga’s head. The woman had become your anchor, helping you refocus on your game. 

It was almost amusing, thinking that no one else existed in the crowd, just you and the woman. You could tell the woman wasn’t at all interested in what was going on in the clay. You often caught the woman glancing at her phone during the set. Yet, you found solace in playing as if you were solely performing for the woman.

However, you didn’t forget the game at hand, swiftly responding to each shot with your racket, rallying back and forth several times before you had a moment of brilliance that allowed you to execute a breathtaking drop shot in the opposite direction of Iga's sprint.

It was the highlight of the tournament, perhaps even of your career, your best point. Yet, when you glanced up and noticed the red-haired woman looking away, you couldn't help but chuckle.

With the score now at 40-AD, you needed just one more point to clinch your first grand slam title. As Iga's shot came straight towards your body, you managed to get your racket in position to return the ball. The exchange of the ball was intense, this time you had to sprint to reach a ball you never thought you could. You struck it with the edge of your racket, hoping for the best as the ball sailed toward the line.

As you watched the ball clear the net, you felt the light weight of your gold chain around your neck and remembered that luck was on your side this time.

Everything happened in slow motion as Iga dropped her racket to the ground, and moments later, you found yourself on your knees on the clay court, the crowd erupting into cheers around you.

You didn't know how, but now you were already in the stands, being hugged by your family and your team, with your coach by your side, trying to shake some of the clay off your clothes. 

"I need you to do me a favor" you said to him before the tournament staff took you away for the trophy presentation.

As Leah and her mother descended the stairs toward the exit, Leah couldn't contain her excitement. "I told you Y/N would win," she exclaimed, her hand firmly grasping her mother's arm. The trophy presentation had concluded, and the crowd was beginning to disperse. 

"It was luck," Amanda teased her daughter, though she couldn't deny her surprise at your remarkable turnaround.

"We should have placed a bet. We would have won"

"At least I won't have to endure your grumpy face during dinner," Amanda said with a playful smirk.

Leah rolled her eyes as they walked through the crowd.

"Excuse me!" A man's voice behind them interrupted their conversation. Leah's eyes widened as she recognized him. "This might sound strange… but Y/N wants to see you," the man explained to Amanda, who didn't understand the situation at all, her daughter didn’t either.

Leah felt a tug on the arm her mother was holding on.

"Uh-"

"It's Y/N's coach," Leah clarified to her mother.

"And she wants to see me?" Amanda asked.

The man nodded awkwardly. "I wish I could offer more explanation, but Y/N is sometimes unpredictable."

After a moment of contemplation, Amanda flashed a mischievous smile and nodded, gripping her daughter's arm even tighter. "Sure, take us to her."

Leah's heart raced. How was it possible that she was going to meet her crush the athlete she admired thanks to her mother? 

Your coach, after a few minutes of walking in silence, led them through a door into a room where you were lying on a couch, eyes closed.

"Hey, Y/N. Your guests are here," your coach announced, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

You quickly opened your eyes and stood up, ignoring the fact that you had just played a two-hour match less than half an hour ago. 

You were no longer wearing your visor and your shoes, but you were still in your white uniform with lilac accents. Leah couldn't help but notice that your socks were now stained with clay.

"Y/N L/N" you introduced yourself, extending your hand toward Amanda. Your attention seemed focused on Amanda, oblivious to Leah standing behind her. "I'm introducing myself because I have a slight feeling you don't know me," you said with a smile.

"Amanda," she said, shaking your hand. "Don't worry, I know who you are. A little voice hasn't stopped repeating your name since we arrived in France."

Leah blushed and glanced away.

"Oh," you released Amanda's hand and turned to the blonde, whom you hadn't noticed during either match. "Shouldn't I introduce myself then?" you asked, extending your hand toward Leah.

"No need," Leah said, feeling her mother's not-so-subtle nudge as you extended your hand. "My name is Leah, and I'm a big fan of yours."

"Your number one fan," Amanda chimed in with a smile.

"Mom!" Leah protested, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

You released Leah's hand and turned to Amanda.

"She brought me all the way from England just to see you," Amanda explained, noticing the way you were looking at her daughter. 

"England?" you asked, curious about the mention of England.

"Yes, we're from England," Leah confirmed.

"And my daughter is the captain of—"

"Mom, no!" Leah interjected, her cheeks turning pink as she attempted to silence her mother's impending revelation.

You couldn't help but laugh at Leah's embarrassment, finding the exchange amusing.

"Why are we here?" Leah asked before her mother could continue.

"Oh, right," you replied, regaining your composure. "I wanted to thank you," you said, turning to Amanda and clasping your hands behind your back.

"Me?" "Her?" Amanda and Leah exclaimed simultaneously, surprised by your words.

"Yes," You said softly, your gaze shifting to Leah, a smile returning to your face. "Since the semifinal match, I noticed your mother in the stands. Although, it's hard not to see her," you added, gesturing towards Amanda's red hair. "She was the only person in the whole court who wasn't looking at me. Thanks to her, I was able to concentrate and win. It may sound silly but—"

"Oh, don't worry honey," Amanda interjected. "They usually tell me that I bring good luck in big games," she said, nodding towards Leah with her thumb.

"You're an athlete? Sorry, what was your name again? I don't have a good memory with names," you said, this time blushing slightly.

"Honey, Leah is the captain of the England team," Amanda clarified, speaking on behalf of her daughter.

"Oh... Football? Volleyball?" You inquired.

"Yes, football," Leah replied, feeling a flush of embarrassment. She had never felt so embarrassed in her life, not even as a child.

You glanced Leah up and down once more. You had never imagined a football player could dress so stylishly. You found yourself so engrossed in observing Leah's attire that you only snapped back to reality when your coach cleared his throat.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure to thank you for your help, even if you didn't realize it," you said, pulling an autographed tennis ball out of your pocket. "I'm not sure how valuable this is to you, but perhaps your daughter will appreciate it," you added with a laugh, glancing sideways at Leah. "Well, I must be off now, interviews and all that," you explained, walking away to grab your bag. "Hope to see you two at Wimbledon," you said, winking at Amanda before leaving.

The next day, Leah found herself at the airport, keeping an eye on their suitcases while her mother went to grab something to eat. Suddenly, a notification on her phone caught her off guard.

Y/N_kz started following you

[rainy-wallflower]

Little Big Girl

Once again, another OC one shot based off a Madds Buckley song! I tried ro write a fight scene and failed.

TW for emotional abuse and minor violence.

Four friends gathered in the stands as the tournament got ready to begin. All of them glanced around, nervous about being in a different setting. Nixie had always told them to stay away from her ‘hobby’, but this time she’d requested all of them be there with a fierce determination in her eyes.

“Hasn’t their entire family competed in this tournament?” Alex asked, leg bouncing as he watched the floor get set up. Referees were milling about, chatting and checking things on clipboards. A small medical station was being set up in one corner and a judge panel was finishing being set up on the sidelines behind a clear, protective wall.

“I believe so,” Aither mused. “I think her father ended up as champion a few years in a row at one point, and all of their siblings have won a champion title as well.” He reached up to twirl a strand of his hair, glancing at all of the sponsor banners hanging from the rafters. “That’s only what I’ve heard from her though.”

“I’m worried about her.” Cameron piped up, arms crossed in his seat with a small scowl on his face. “They’ve never seemed like they enjoy doing anything her family has done. And the fact that she specifically asked us to be here this time?” He shook his head. “It leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Nixie can take care of herself,” Thorn gruffed. “If she wants us here, we’re gonna be here to support them.” They rubbed at their arms, internally cursing how cold these places tended to be. “Besides, I think they’ve been training a lot more than usual for this. It seems to me like they want to make a statement this time around.”

“But is that going to be safe for them, mentally or physically?” Aither asked, biting at the inside of their cheek.

“We’re just going to have to wait and see,” Alex sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Do we even know when they’re coming up?”

“Well, they’re in the oldest age group, so probably last. That is unless they’ll be doing multiple fights in this arena. It doesn’t seem like it’s big enough for that though.” Thorn said. “Elemental spars can get pretty out of hand.”

“Wait, I thought this was a single age group?” Alex said, leaning forward to look at Thorn from across Cameron.

“Really? Where’d you get that impression?” The fire elemental asked.

“It said it on the posters coming in, I thought. Because the age bracket was so large, and I guess some sponsor paid for it to be a big thing, they were just going to make a full day out of it.”

All of their eyes went up to the rafter and before long Cameron sighed with annoyance. “I wonder who the sponsor was,” he pointed at a “special thanks” banner that was hanging in the center, proudly displaying the name of Nixie’s father, who at one point had held the champion title for five years in a row.

“No fucking way,” Thorn breathed, reaching over for Cameron’s hand, ignoring the extra cold on their skin.

“If he put them up to this I’ll kill him,” Alex grumbled, eyes now sweeping the floor for any sign of their friend.

“We’re all out of high school soon,” Aither reminded him. “If he did, we’ll just make sure there’s definitely no contact.”

“That doesn’t seem like enough to me.”

_____________________________________

Nixie sat in the locker room, playing around with their water element as they sized up the competition. Some were returning, others were new, but one way or another Nixie had to get through them all. They remembered how their father stared at them before leaving them alone in the locker room.

“I have a lot riding on this. I know you’ll make me proud, as you have many times before. Good luck, though I’m sure you don’t need it.”

Nixie grit their teeth and allowed the water to fly into an empty shower stall in the corner, nearly clocking someone in the head while doing so. She ignored the surprised yelling to focus on the floor, letting the dark curtains of their bob cut cover their face. They knew why this was turned into a whole thing. She was eighteen and still hadn’t won a champion title at the tournament. Despite being flung into the spotlight everywhere else by their father, mother, and siblings, this was the one place they had to stand alone, and couldn’t get themselves into the spotlight like everyone wanted them to. Her father expected her to win it this year, but she wasn’t sure she could.

“What’s the matter, sis?” Someone plopped down on the bench next to Nixie, startling them out of their thoughts. He was only a few months older than Nixie, a foster child turned adopted sibling for their family. Brandon was an earth elemental who’d won the championship title the previous year after knocking Nixie out of the ring in the final round.

“Nothing,” they muttered, ignoring his stare. “It’s just dad in my head again. You know how he is.”

Brandom hummed, glancing around at all the nervous looks being thrown in their direcion. Nixie hadn’t noticed them, too wrapped up in their own anxiety. “Well, if it helps, I’m not going to throw the tournament so you can make dad happy.”

Nixie laughed dryly. “I wouldn’t expect you to. If you did he’d just get mad at both of us.”

“Yeah. What a shame though. You’re still planning on running away after you graduate, right?”

“Running away?” Nixie looked up, meeting Brandon’s eyes for the first time. They were filled with a sort of condescending light that made Nixie’s chest feel tight.

“Isn’t that what it is?” He asked. “You’re unable to deal with the pressure placed on you by a successful father, mother, and six other siblings, so you’re just going to run away from it all. That’s fine. I’m more than willing to take on the burden of the overly successful youngest child.” He smirked.

“Why you little-” a horn sounded in the room and all the competitors groaned.

“That’s the bell! I look forward to facing you on the final stage, sis,” Brandon got up and held out his fist. “Give it your all. I don’t want to fight against you otherwise.”

Nixie fixed him with a murderous glare, leaving his offered fist bump hanging. “Don’t disappoint me this year.” She retorted.

_______________

“They’re definitely pushing it,” Aither murmured, hands covering her mouth as the people in the stands watched elements rage in the arena.

“I didn’t know she could even do that,” Alex gulped, watching as a huge wave pushed a competitor out of the arena. A bell sounded and Nixie raised a fist in the air, taking in the cheers of the crowd, but her eyes looked empty and their body looked like it was about to drop. Due to the sheer amount of people the tournament had been going on for hours. Time to rest between rounds got shorter and shorter, and now there were only four people left.

“She looks like she’s going to collapse,” Cameron said, hands gripping the armrests on his seat. Frost was starting to gather at his fingertips, and it only stopped spreading because the heat radiating off Thorn was keeping it at bay. The fire elemental had set their eyes on the stocky man sitting in the stands behind the judges table, watching Nixie with a proud glint in his eyes.

“I agree with Alex’s sentiment earlier. I’m gonna kill him.” They snarled quietly. Nixie stumbled off to the side, gladly taking a water bottle that was offered to them as the other two semi-finalists took the stage.

“Wait…that’s Nixie’s brother!” Aither said, pointing at the earth elemental. “I remember her telling me that he won the title last year. Oh my gods they’re gonna go up against each other I just know it!” She brought her hands in close, picking at the skin around their fingers.

“And their dad most likely has a preference on which one he wants to win this year,” Cameron glowered. “If I can help it he’s not getting close to her at the end of today. I don’t care if I have to run away from cops, we’re all getting in my car once this is over and vamoosing.”

“You’re going to freeze everyone within a fifty foot radius,” Thorn warned, watching as frost started to creep towards Alex.

“And you’re about to set the place on fire.” Cameron shot back, but he reached out for his partner and the two of them held each other’s hands tightly.

“They’re going to be fine,” Alex said, though his tone was unsure. “She asked us to be here for a reason, so they’re going to be fine.”

“I sure hope so,” Aither whimpered as the current fight entered the final stages.

__________________________________

Nixie fell to their knees as she finally pushed the opponent out of bounds. She gasped for breath as exhaustion called to them. In the back of her mind, she registered the judges calling for a ten minute break before the final round was supposed to begin, but they couldn’t make themselves move.

“You’re going to embarrass yourself like this,” Brandon huffed, standing above his sibling. Nixie looked up, a newfound anger flaring in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. “Would you like to have gone up against an ice elemental who renders almost everything you do useless right before the final round?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be rendered almost useless after the fight,” Brandon said unimpressed. “Neither would dad.”

“Would you stop trying to impress him?!” Nixie cried, gaining attention from a few of the workers around. Brandon glanced at them uneasily before grabbing Nixie’s arm and dragging her out of the arena. He set her in a chair on the side and gave her a new water bottle before forcing her to look him in the eyes.

“No. That man gave me everything and he expects me to do my best and win, so I will. I don’t know what’s going on in that little head of yours, but you need to think about those around you for once. He wants you to win so badly for your sake. You’re the one who stuck with this all these years so actually win! That’s what he wants. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go prepare. See you in five.” The boy walked away with a scowl, going to meet a worker on the other side of the arena.

Nixie looked up into the stands for the first time that day. First she clocked her father. He had stood up at some point and was nearly glowering at her, but she ignored it. Dark blue eyes danced around the arena before landing on the opposite side of their father. Four familiar faces stood out in the crowd, and none of them were happy. Two were glaring daggers at the man across from them and the other two were looking at Nixie nervously. For whatever reason, it calmed the water elemental a little.

They managed to shoot a grin and a thumbs up at their friends, though she wasn’t sure they believed her. Two more water bottles later and the bell dinged to start the final match. The stands went quiet as the two siblings climbed into the arena for the last time.

“You’re not looking too confident over there, little sis,” Brandon called.

“You have such a big mouth. I guess I’ll have to cut it down to size,” Nixie called back, feeling her body tingle as she held back her anger. As soon as the bell rang the arena quaked and a crack appeared beneath Nixie’s feet. They jumped out of the way and sent spears of water in Brandon’s direction, which he easily blocked with earth shields. It had begun. The two went at it, destroying the arena as the desperation of coming out on top consumed them.

It felt like hours before one got the upper hand. A boulder came out of nowhere and knocked Nixie onto the ground face first. She groaned as her back throbbed, just grateful that the wind didn’t get knocked out of her. “C’mon sis,” Brandon taunted, leisurely walking towards her after seeing she wasn’t getting up immediately. “I thought you were going to cut me down to size! Where is all that big talk, huh? The champion title is waiting for you! It’d be a shame if I was the first sibling to get it multiple years in a row and leave you with none. Isn’t that the worst case scenario?”

Despite the words coming out of his mouth, Nixie could tell that he was elated by this idea. None of her six siblings had ever held the title for more than one year, usually they ended up beating each other, another expectation that weighed heavily on the youngest sibling. Nixie raised their head, glaring daggers at her brother before inhaling sharply. Despite his easygoing tone, the earth elemental almost looked panicked, like the idea of getting the title two years in a row terrified him.

“What’s going on with you?” Nixie grunted, trying to get their feet under them again.

“What do you mean?” Brandon asked. “Do you not feel all that pressure weighing down on you?” His volume dropped so only the two siblings could hear themselves. “You should know how it is, doing everything everyone expects from you and then having to surpass that.” He crouched next to Nixie, placing a hand on her back and pushing her back down to the ground, causing them to cry out. “They’re all expecting you to beat me. That’s how it’s been for forever, ya know? Dad wants it. He wants to prove that all of his children are strong; that they belong to his bloodline. And then he’ll continue to prove it again, and again, and again!” A rock spire shot up underneath the two, forcing them onto a tiny platform in the air.

Brandon backed off, allowing Nixie to catch her breath. “I need you to take this off of me,” He sighed. “You may be the youngest, but I’m the only adopted child. I have to prove my place in this family, and I already have. I’ve done my bare minimum. Now you have to as well.”

“I’m sorry…” Nixie panted, finally standing up. “But what the fuck? You told me earlier you weren’t going to throw this match.”

“I’m not,” Brandon growled. “I’m currently trying to make this a fair fight.”

“Fair fight my ass!” Nixie cried. “Maybe it's because you were adopted, but I have never had a fair fight in my life! Every step ahead of me was taken by at least five others! It was almost like I had a checklist of my life and everything was already done, I just had to go through the motions!” Below them, the ground started to shake and cries drifted up from the stands, but the two siblings paid it no mind. “I’m sorry that you had to come into this family and actually fight for your spot, but at least that’s more honorable than having everyone get out of your way because of who your father and siblings are!”

The rumbling grew stronger and Brandon’s eyes filled with fear as they flicked up to something behind Nixie. “I don’t think you realize what you’ve gotten yourself into. You may be cocky because you won last year, but don’t go on thinking you’re the biggest fish in this pond. There’s a reason I invited my friends this year.” Water drips started to appear on the small platform between the two, but Nixie didn’t notice. All their energy was fixed on giving Brandon the most murderous stare they could make as they finally vented all their frustrations.

“I already know I can make it to the top. You think you’re a giant mountain in my path? You’re nothing but a tiny pebble,” they seethed.

“U-Um, Nixie,” Brandon started to back up. “C-Cool it a bit, okay?”

“What? Too afraid to face a real competitor, bro?” Nixie taunted. “Well too bad!” The words rang through the arena as Nixie’s arms flew forward and the giant wave they’d unknowingly conjured slammed into their brother, knocking him over the side of their platform onto the ground below. The water elemental smirked and hopped in their own wave, riding it down to the floor. She landed gracefully, a victorious smirk on their face as they stood over their brother. He’d ended up on his side, trying to cough out any water that had gone into his lungs.

“You’re insane!” He cried, once he finally caught sight of her.

“Maybe,” Nixie said, gathering water to them again and encasing Brandon in a cyclone of water. “But at least I know that I won’t be letting him control me anymore. Once I graduate, he’s going to be out of my life and I’ll be moving forward with my own power from now on. Maybe then you six will finally see what you’ve been overlooking.”

“What-” Brandon’s question turned into a cry as the cyclone flung him out of the arena. He hit one of the side walls with a sickening crunch that made Nixie wince. The arena was quiet for a minute before a bell rang and the stands erupted in cheers. Nixie turned to their father, glaring at the self-satisfied smirk on his face. Still caught up in their feelings, Nixie smirked back, flipped him off, and turned to face their friends, ignoring the outraged cries from her father.

Her friends all had looks of shock and joy on their faces. All had stood up and were cheering, except for Alex. It looked like he’d collapsed back into his seat and his expression was one of awe. When their eyes met, the earth elemental grinned and raised a fist in the air. Nixie beamed back and copied the motion, causing another round of cheers from the stands.

_________

The awards ceremony seemed to go on forever. Both finalists were forced to stand on the, now repaired, arena. A trophy was presented to Nixie as well as a medal. Brandon also received a medal, but he looked at it distastefully. A speech was made, thanking sponsors, fans, friends, and family. A huge thank you was given to the finalists’ father for his large donation that year. Nixie had to give the trophy back so they could actually get her name engraved on it before she headed back to the locker room. Brandon was waiting for her, a scowl set into his features.

“What? Don’t tell me you want to continue our argument,” Nixie sighed, opening up her locker to gather her things.

“No. I’m just waiting for your slow ass so we can go out and meet dad together,” he grumbled, arms crossed over his chest. Nixie chuckled, turning to face her brother.

“Who said we were meeting dad together?” She asked, a playful tilt to her lips. Brandon only scowled deeper.

“It’s what we’ve done every year. He’s going to be pissed if we’re not out there together after this,” Brandon stalked forward to grab Nixie’s arm but she dodged his grip.

“Well, I’m going to leave that to you,” she said.

“What?”

“I have my own found family to get to,” Nixie grinned. “I’d much rather celebrate with them than face the man I just flipped off. Have a good rest of your night, tell dad I’m staying with a friend.” And with that the locker door opened and closed, leaving a flabbergasted Brandon alone inside.

Nixie stealthily moved through the crowd, ignoring those who tried to congratulate her until she spotted a familiar group of four. She snuck up behind the redhead and tugged on their sleeve. The fire elemental turned around in surprise before grinning. “You were awesome!” Thorn swept Nixie up in a hug and spun them around.

Nixie grinned and accepted being placed in the center of their circle to receive their friends’ praise. After a round of hugs and excited commentary, a cry of “Nixie!” came from the crowd and all five of them froze.

“Dad’s trying to find me,” Nixie said, reaching for Cameron’s arm. “Can we go get dinner and celebrate?”

“Of course!” The snow elemental beamed. “I had planned on getting you out of here before he saw you anyway.”

“I love you guys.” Nixie gathered them all in another hug before her name was called again. The water elemental winced at how close it was and grabbed someone’s arm to start dragging them out of the building.

[justnerdthings]

Never Again Ch.2

Female OC x Raiden/Shang Tsung (it's gonna be both)

Okay. Not much interest in the first chapter, but whatever. I like it. Shang comes in in this chapter.

“What do you mean she has been released?” Fujin asked his brother with narrowed eyes.

“She escaped the catacombs. Someone or something had destroyed them,” Raiden explained. He then sighed. “I thought she had perished, but she visited me last night.”

“She was here?” Fujin couldn’t believe what Raiden was telling him. Helena was free? This was grave news. “Have you checked in with everyone?”

Raiden nodded. “Everyone is accounted for.”

Fujin breathed a sigh of relief.

“She may not know their identities as of yet,” Raiden hoped.

“And when she does?”

Raiden took a deep breath. “Helena will use them to get what she wants.”

Fujin lifted a brow as he watched Raiden’s stoic expression. “She wants you, brother.”

Raiden’s eyes shifted to Fujin’s. He exhaled and nodded. This was a disaster. And it would only end in disaster.

“She will kill them all if it means you will give her all of eternity.” Fujin said as he stepped away and looked over the Sky Temple garden. “She threw the tournament away four-hundred years ago just to buy herself four-hundred years of you. She killed Kung Lao to make sure of it.”

Raiden’s jaw hardened. What Fujin said was true. Helena had been driven to madness with her jealousy. He just wished he’d acted sooner. Maybe it would have all been avoided. Maybe he would not have had to lock her away. But, he had needed her for the tournament. She was his second best fighter. Helena was his response to Shang Tsung. Sorcerer verses Sorceress. She evened the odds, even tilted them slightly in earthrealm’s favor. But he had forgotten what she was first…

Raiden rubbed his face as that knot of guilt twisted in his stomach again. He’d spent so much time helping Kung Lao train for his fight with Goro that he’d inadvertently neglected his love. This was all his fault. He should have never brought her into Mortal Kombat.

“We need to find her,” Raiden sighed. “Before she finds them.”

Fujin nodded. A cyclone swallowed him up as he left the garden. A crack of lightning, and Raiden had left as well.

————

Shang Tsung stood on his island, overlooking his palace. It hadn’t been used in decades. Utterly overgrown. And he... now an old man. With Shao Khan dead, he had no master to answer to and little hope of ever taking over the realms. Kotal Khan had no interest in employing the sorcerer. A shame, really. None of the realms did.

A purple glow lit up his palace’s court yard. He lifted a brow. No one was on this island except for him. Who could have caused that? Who would come here? Who could come here? Had his barrier fallen? With a snap of his armored fingers, he was transported to his court yard.

Not a soul in sight. Had he been seeing things in his old age? How annoying. He turned and walked into the palace. The place had been reclaimed by the island. It was a mess. But, nothing a little flick of his wrist couldn’t handle. The wild vines and flora slowly receded, clearing a path for him. It wasn’t long until he found himself in his own throne room. His old eyes tried to focus through the darkness.

He was being watched. Holding out a hand, a green flame lit his way as he walked towards the presence. Shang stopped in the middle of the room as he noticed the faint outline of someone sitting… on his throne. His eyes narrowed at the shadowed figure. “Who is there?” he called over, demanding an answer. “Who sits on my throne?”

A low, feminine, elegant chuckle echoed off the walls.

Shang took another step closer. The green flame in his hand grew to light up the room more. His face glew in the green flame, showing his angered annoyance, enhanced by the shadows.

“Shang Tsung…” The voice called over. “Oh, has time been cruel to you.”

The voice awakened something in Shang. The voice was familiar… but who? Enough games. He tossed his flame up. It broke apart and the smaller flames flew to several large lanterns. The room had illuminated, showing just how much plant life had moved in, and the woman in his throne.

Shang Tsung stiffened at the sight of her, but he quickly regained himself. He couldn’t show her the tension now building in his shoulders. He straightened and held his hands behind him as he made his way to her. “My dear, Helena… Has Raiden decided to let you out of your cage already?”

Her dark lips pulled into a devilish smirk. “He was just as surprised to see me as you are.”

“Oh, I doubt such a thing,” he answered, shoving his nerves deeper down, as he climbed the steps to his throne. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“This is the last place I was before being locked away… It seems only right to pick up where I left off.” She leaned back, letting her hands rest on the arms of the throne.

Shang watched her, then bowed his head slowly. She seemed quite at home on his island--on his throne. But there was no reason to fight her… yet.

“Tell me Shang Tsung,” She began, “How long has it been?”

He lifted a brow to her. “Since we last saw each other? Eight Tournaments have passed.”

“Four hundred years,” Helena calculated.

“Indeed.”

“And the current champion?”

Shang inhaled sharply, reminded of his most recent loss. “Liu Kang. One of your beloved Raiden’s fighters.”

Helena’s nails scratched along the throne’s arms, scraping off gold. Shang Tsung watched as the jagged gold ribbons fell to the floor. His eyes shifted back up to her irritated face. “Trouble in paradise, my dear?”

Her eyes cut to him. “Where can I find this Liu Kang?”

Shang’s brows rose. This was not expected. As far as he knew, Helena was still Raiden’s ally… Raiden’s answer to Shang Tsung himself. How curious. “Should you not ask your lover?”

“Raiden… My beloved… My traitorous lover…” Helena relaxed slowly. “He will not help me.”

“Why not?”

“Because he knows I will kill him just as I did with Kung Lao…”

It took Shang Tsung a moment to realize she was talking about the Great Kung Lao. “I recall Goro killing him, my dear. I think your mind has gone awry in that tomb of yours.”

“Goro may have ripped his heart out, but it was I who made it possible,” Helena corrected him. Shang’s brows knotted at her. “I poisoned Kung Lao before the fight. The man loved his wuyi tea…” She said as she leaned on her elbow, hand supporting her chin.

Shang Tsung held back his surprise. So he owed his victory that day to Helena. But why? He stepped closer, non-threatening in his demeanor, and rested an old hand on the arm of his throne to lean against it. “Your actions caused Earthrealm to lose the tournament,” he pointed out.

“Yes. Raiden and I could have had four hundred years together before having to worry about winning the tournament.”

“And how did that work out for you, my dear?” He pressed. Her eyes shot back at him with his slight against her. As sharp as her eyes were, he did not seem phased by them. He just stared at her, expecting an answer.

Helena let out a defeated sigh as she looked away from him again. “I did not count on him reacting as he did.”

“Chaining you to a wall decorated with the dead?” He asked. Her eyes flinched ever so slightly. Shang nodded. He was getting under her skin. “How did you survive down there?”

“Barely,” she answered with a frown. “I fed off the life forces of the resident rats and roaches.”

“You seem to have eaten well,” he commented, then gestured with a clawed hand to herself--her body, still young and taught in all the right places. He wouldn’t lie, she had been a beauty four hundred years ago, and she looked the same now as she sat in front of him.

She turned her eyes back to him slowly. That devilish smirk of hers returned. “That silver tongue of yours still works, I see.”

He smiled and lifted his chin in a small show of pride. “Of course.” He’d noticed the slight shifting of her eyes as she searched his withered face. Yes, it was true. Shang Tsung was now an old man, soon to meet his own tomb. “Not the face you remember, my dear?” He asked.

“No,” she answered softly and reached out to let her fingers graze his wrinkled cheek. His eyes showed surprise for only a second at the gesture. Was she not afraid of him? Did she not fear his power, even in his weakened state? No. Of course she wasn’t. She could match him in any fight… Or could have as it were. Spending so long in that crypt, she may not have had the ability to continue training. She must have been rusty, surely. Living off rats and roaches certainly would not have given her enough strength. Rodents and insects would not support such strength--such beauty. There was something she hadn’t admitted. “Has your well ran dry, Shang Tsung?” she spoke, voice reaching into his very core.

His shoulders slumped just barely, but enough for Helena to notice. She grinned to him.

[azulsartdump]

A Rose for a Rose

A little sequel to a scenario that @r0setarts write a while back. You can find that post right here featuring Trey, Riddle, and Cater visiting the Valley of Thorns for a renaissance faire with our OC’s Azul, Marsella, and @tri3tri ’s OC Mirabelle! 

This time.

This time Marsella’s plan was going to work out.

After the disaster of the last summer festival she attended, Marsella had been plotting for the day she’d have the chance to put her matchmaking skills to work once again. No longer would she be foiled by accidentally eating faery fruit or drunkenly starting bar fights. She was a more informed woman now, and her scheme to couple up her friends was going to come to fruition this time.

Trey and Mirabelle had gone off on their own to enjoy the festival. Riddle and Azul were really starting to enjoy themselves as the faery shot down another prize from the booth’s game, and there wasn’t a fruit stall in sight. Everything was going so smoothly. That was until Sebek had come running toward them, fully suited up in armor, and loudly shouting that he needed Azul’s help.

“Lady Attwood!” the half-fae’s voice boomed across the walkway, clear as day despite the bustling noises of the festival’s crowds. After pushing through the sea of people, he saluted the group before voicing his request. “Some of the knights are having trouble with their armor. Do you think you could spare some time to help us?”

Much to Marsella’s dismay, the older woman eagerly agreed.

“Of course, Seb-chan!” Azul began leading Sebek back the way he came, calling over her shoulder as they left. “You guys can go ahead and enjoy the festival without me for a bit! I’ll come find you once I’m done!” 

Once they were out of view, Marsella clicked her tongue. Of course Sebek would sweep in out of nowhere and ruin her plans, the party pooper. 

“Hey, I heard that the jousting tournament is going to start soon. We should probably make our way over there if we want to see it.” Cater seemed to sense Marsella’s displeasure, and was quick to suggest an activity to take her mind off the unexpected bump in the road.

“Jousting tournament?” Marsella had read about them in books, but she’d never witnessed one in person. The loudmouthed half-fae may have ruined her scheme, but she was going to at least enjoy looking at the dashing knights of the Valley of Thorns Azul always told her about.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marsella’s tantrum successfully avoided, the group made their way to the main stage, a small section was fenced off in the center where a jousting ring had been set up. The trio found a section of the fencing that wasn’t already occupied as the trumpets signaling the start of the competition sounded. The crowd around them muttered excitedly as one of the festival workers loudly read the tournament’s rules.

“Oh, is that?” One of the festival attendees nearby pointed to a particular knight. Unlike the usual black and green armor that most knights wore, this one in particular donned their black armor with accents of red and a long blue plume atop their helmet. 

“Ehhhh, it’s been a while since that lady knight participated.”

“What? The lady knight is going to be jousting today?”

“Hurry! It’s been forever since we’ve seen the lady knight joust!”

All around them, people began to gather to see the knight in black and red. Marsella knew that the Valley of Thorns didn’t necessarily bar females from becoming knights, but it was indeed rather rare for one to prove themselves worthy of representing a noble family in an official competition. If the murmurs among the crowd were anything to base her assumptions off of as well, this lady seemed to be rather established amongst the regular festival attendees as well.

The first few rounds progressed smoothly. The sound of horses galloping, wooden lances breaking, and metal clanging loudly against the ground resonated through the square as cheers and whistles sounded from the audience.

“Knight of Bloodworth,” the announcer gestured to the red knight as she trotted up to the jousting barrier. Marsella couldn’t quite put her finger on where, but she had heard that name before. Bloodworth.

As the bell sounded, the horses charged toward each other, the crack of a shattered lance and the clanging of metal on the ground brought the round to a close. The red knight sat proudly upon her steed as her opponent quickly righted himself, another two knights making their way over to help him off the ground.

“16 points to Bloodworth for a shattered lance and an unhorsing!” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the tournament proceeded similarly. At some point, they had spotted Sebek, waving to him as he removed his helmet after his rounds were completed. As the tournament finished and the judges began to tally the points, a lull in the excitement had given the group a chance to chat.

“Bloodworth...” Marsella repeated the name once again.

“The female knight, right?” Riddle asked. “Do you know her?”

“I’ve definitely heard the name before,” Marsella held the bridge of her nose as she contemplated, hoping if she concentrated enough, an epiphany would wash over her. “I just don’t remember where.”

The announcer made his way onto the main stage again, drawing the attention of the crowed back to him with the sound of the trumpet. 

“Thank you for your patience!” the man unrolled a small scroll and cleared his throat. “After tallying the results and factoring in penalties, I’d be a great honor to announce the results of today’s jousting tournament!”

The crowd waited with baited breath as a small parade of drummers built up anticipation. 

“The winner of this year’s jousting tournament is the Knight of Bloodworth!”

The crowd cheered as the knight in red made her way to the stage. 

“Allow me to congratulate you for bringing honor to the Bloodworth name once again!” The announcer took the knight’s hand to shake. “And to present you with the prize for this tournament, a rose to give to a fair maiden of your choosing!”

As the knight took the rose, she looked around the crowd, scanning as if she were searching for someone. Marsella couldn’t make out her face under the helmet, but the knight’s gaze seemed to land on her before starting to approach. Marsella started to panic a bit. It’d be rude to reject a gift in front of so many people, especially after such a display of skill and strength to win the aforementioned gift. She was sure that Malleus would be upset if he heard she accepted a rose from a knight, though, and that was the last thing Marsella wanted to happen.

The knight stopped in front of her and Marsella held her breath, mind still racing as she contemplated weather to accept or reject the flower. Before she could say anything, though, the knight instead held the rose out to the short red-headed boy beside her. 

“Eh?” The brunette looked between the pair, unable to decide if she was relieved or offended through her confusion.

“Uhhh.. I- Um. What- Wh..?” Riddle stumbled over his words before managing to collect himself and accepting the flower. “Thank you. May I have your name?”

The sound of familiar bright laughter echoed from within the helmet.

“Whaaaaat? I only left you for a little while and you forgot about me already?” the knight reached up to remove her helmet, revealing that the helmet’s blue plume was not actually a decoration, but was in fact a ponytail. A ponytail belonging to a very familiar female faery.

“Eh? But your last name is Attwood, isn’t it Zu-chan?” Cater’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The guy said Bloodworth.” As Marsella stared at Azul in her armor, it finally clicked.

“Ah! I remember!” she shouted as she pointed toward the older woman. “Bloodworth is your mother’s name!”

“Y-Yeah. I thought you knew.” Azul blinked in surprise at the exclaimed statement. “Did you not realize I was participating until just now?”

“Ahahaha... Yeah,” Marsella embarrassingly twirled as strand of hair around her finger. “For a second, I thought some random knight was about to declare their love for me with a rose. You know, like in all the stories you used to tell me about these festivals.”

The faery let a loud whoop of laughter escape her, wiping a tear away with her sleeve. 

“Oh darling,” Azul began to calm herself as she spoke again. “I normally would have given it to you. But since Riddle was here, I thought it’d be more fitting. A rose for a Rosehearts, you know?”

Marsella proudly gazed upon the red-faced Riddle as he spoke to the older fae before him. Even if things didn’t go exactly as she planned, she had to admit she was quite satisfied with the result. She didn’t think she’d ever do this, but she’d have to thank Sebek for his help later.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars XCVIII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: Updated: I will be dropping the next few chapters this week, so stay tuned -Danny

Words: 4,487

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Final Task.

"He really trusts Snape, even though he knows he was a Death Eater?" Ron asked.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Rita Skeeter," Hermione mumbled rubbing her forehead with both palms.

"How can you be worrying about her now?" said Ron.

"I'm not worrying about her. I'm just thinking... remember what she said to me in the Three Broomsticks? 'I know things about Ludo Bagman that would make your hair curl.' This is what she meant, isn't it? She reported his trial, she knew he'd passed information to the Death Eaters. And Winky too, remember... 'Ludo Bagman's a bad wizard.' Mr Crouch would have been furious he got off, he would have talked about it at home."

"Yeah, but Bagman didn't pass information on purpose, did he? And Fudge reckons Madame Maxime attacked Crouch?"

"Yeah, but he's only saying that because Crouch disappeared near the Beauxbatons carriage."

"Makes no sense because then all her students were there to see, and Hagrid as well, unless he thinks Hagrid's unreliable too..." Mel added.

"We never thought of her, did we?" said Ron. "Mind you, she's definitely got giant blood, and she doesn't want to admit it —"

"Of course she doesn't! Look what happened to Hagrid when Rita found out about his mother. Look at Fudge, jumping to conclusions about her, just because she's part giant. Who needs that sort of prejudice? I'd probably say I had big bones if I knew that's what I'd get for telling the truth."

"I'm hardly a supporter of liars," Mel sighed, "but I'm with 'Mione in this one, the wizarding community can be pretty judgy when they want to."

"We haven't done any practising!" Hermione gave a start, looking at the time on her wristwatch. "We were going to do the Impediment Curse! We'll have to really get down to it tomorrow! Come on, Harry, you need to get some sleep."

Hermione and Ron stood up as well as them, then Mel stopped, watching them climb up the stairs. Harry noticed and stayed behind as well, giving her a questioning look.

"I wonder," She said quietly. "How different our lives would be if any of those things had never happened... D'you think it'd be completely different from what it is now?"

"Maybe," Harry shrugged. "My parents would be alive, we wouldn't be neighbors..."

"We would still be friends, though, wouldn't we? But maybe not best friends," She frowned. "Is it wrong that I'm a little glad that's not the case?"

"No," He smiled. "But we're not exactly friends, are we?"

"You know what I mean," She mumbled.

Harry got closer and kissed her temple. Having no height difference really was convenient for them. He finally mumbled a goodnight and left, Mel soon following his example and going to her bedroom.

"You're supposed to be studying for your exams as well, you don't need to put all your efforts into helping me," Harry told them one afternoon after lunch. "I don't mind practising on my own for a while, you know?"

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said, "at least we'll get top marks in Defense Against the Dark Arts. We'd never have found out about all these hexes in class."

"Good training for when we're all Aurors," said Ron casually.

Mel and Harry shared an amused look.

"Hermione's right," She added. "I don't do any of these in my lessons either, it's more of an academic thing, most unusual when I do practical magic. I read and read until my eyes get all heavy. I know a lot of things about magic but it's not quite the same as knowing how to do it."

"I bet it's ten times easier than this," Harry groaned, cleaning his robes after falling on his butt for the third time thanks to a hex he hadn't been able to avoid.

"You're still doing really well, though," Hermione said, reading the list she'd made to make sure Harry had a full training. "Some of these are bound to come in handy."

"Come and look at this," Ron was looking out the window, squinting. "What's Malfoy doing?"

They all huddled up in front of the window. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were sitting down the shadow of a big willow tree, Malfoy was holding his hand up to his mouth and speaking into it, the other two were looking around with silly smirks on their faces.

"He looks like he's using a walkie-talkie," said Harry.

"He can't be– I've told you, those sorts of things don't work around Hogwarts," Hermione shrugged it off, quickly losing interest. "Come on, Harry, let's try that Shield Charm again."

"Look at this," Harry said in a tone of exasperation, he was reading Sirius' letter to Mel. "'If Voldemort is really getting stronger again, my priority is to ensure your safety. He cannot hope to lay hands on you while you are under Dumbledore's protection, but all the same, take no risks: Concentrate on getting through that maze safely, and then we can turn our attention to other matters.' Makes me sound like I have no control!"

"He's just stressed like we all are," Mel responded lazily, barely looking up from her Charms essay. "Give it a month and he'll be back to his usual self, joking about eating rats and all..."

"I already did all I could to prepare myself," Harry folded the letter and prompted his head on one hand, watching her as she continued writing. "The task is tomorrow, I don't think there's anything else I can do..."

"You sound extremely calm about it," She said.

"I just think that whatever comes, at least this time I'm prepared. Besides, it's the end of the tournament, which means..." He raised his free hand and grabbed a lock of her hair, playing with it like he often did. "It's all going to be over, and Skeeter will be out of here."

"We won't have to worry about our love lives being published for everyone to see..." She nodded.

"And I'll be able to take you to Hogsmeade on a proper date and all..." He smiled, his mind drifting to a brighter future.

"What a gentleman," Mel put down her quill and admired her work with pride. "I'm all done! No more homework!" She looked up to meet his gaze. She frowned a little, slightly confused. "Is everything okay?"

"Espectacular," Harry smiled broadly, releasing the lock of hair and kissing her cheek.

"Snuffles sent me a good-luck card!" Harry said, sounding delighted.

She leaned closer to examine it. It was a piece of parchment with a paw print that Mel found adorable, Harry seemed to like it as well.

"Emily didn't send anything though, d'you think she dislikes me now because of all those articles?" He asked jokingly.

"Oh yes, I reckon she must hate you for being such a conceited little git," Mel snorted.

Hermione choked on her drink as she held onto the Daily Prophet an owl delivered to her a few seconds earlier.

"What?" asked her three friends.

"Nothing..." Hermione tried to hide the paper, but Ron was quicker.

"No way," He breathed. "Not today. That old cow..."

"What?" Harry insisted. "Rita Skeeter again?"

"Bad news?" Mel raised a brow.

"No," Ron said, hastily pushing the paper out of sight.

"It's about me, isn't it?" said Harry.

"No," said Ron, but his voice broke a little in the end.

Just as if on queue Draco Malfoy shouted from across the Great Hall:

"Hey, Potter! Potter! How's your head? You feeling all right? Sure you're not going to go berserk on us?"

"Oh, bloody hell," Mel frowned. "What is it now?"

"Let me see it," Harry turned to Ron. "Give it here."

Harry took the paper from a very reluctant Ron. A picture of him was displayed on the front page, with the title right under it:

HARRY POTTER "DISTURBED AND DANGEROUS"

The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter's strange behaviour, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School.

Potter, the Daily Prophet can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (a relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him). On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your Daily Prophet reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying.

It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potter's brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of his deep-seated confusion.

"He might even be pretending," said one specialist. "This could be a plea for attention."

The Daily Prophet, however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the wizarding public.

"Potter can speak Parseltongue," reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth year. "There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he's made friends with werewolves and giants too. We think he'd do anything for a bit of power."

Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue "as worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers." Similarly, "anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence."

Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place this evening.

"Gone off me a bit, hasn't she?" said Harry casually as Mel finished reading, to which she only sighed.

"How did she know your scar hurt in Divination?" Ron asked. "There's no way she was there, there's no way she could've heard —"

"The window was open," said Harry. "I opened it to breathe."

"You were at the top of North Tower!" Hermione exclaimed. "Your voice couldn't have carried all the way down to the grounds!"

"Well, you're the one who's supposed to be researching magical methods of bugging!" said Harry. "You tell me how she did it!"

"No idea," Mel shook her head. "Unless she's learned to train insects and have them all around the school, which would give the bugging a whole new meaning..."

"Bugging," said Hermione, deep in thought. "It's like... like..."

"Are you all right?" said Ron.

"Yes... I've had an idea– I think I know... because then no one would be able to see... even Moody... and she'd have been able to get onto the window ledge... but she's not allowed... she's definitely not allowed... I think we've got her! Just give me two seconds in the library — just to make sure!" She stood up at once and left the Great Hall in a hurry.

"Oi! We've got our History of Magic exam in ten minutes–! Blimey," Ron turned back to them, "she must really hate that Skeeter woman to risk missing the start of an exam. What're you going to do in Binns's class, Harry — read again?"

"S'pose so," Harry shrugged.

"I wish I'd know what she found," Mel said, looking out to where Hermione had gone. "Maybe if I go after her..." But her thoughts were interrupted as Professor McGonagall came to them.

"Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber of the Hall after breakfast, Miss Dumbledore, you and Flint are needed at the entrance now," Before Mel could object she added, "Your teacher has been notified and knows you'll be arriving at your examination a bit late, as well as Flint. He'll give you extra time."

"But the task's not till tonight!" Harry's eyes widened.

"I'm aware of that, Potter. The champions' families are invited to watch the final task, you know. This is simply a chance for you to greet them."

Harry and Mel stared at her in disbelief after she left.

"She doesn't expect the Dursleys to turn up, does she?" Harry asked in horror.

"Dunno," said Ron. "I'd better hurry, I'm going to be late for Binns. See you later..."

"I'd better go too," Mel sighed, getting up as well. "I wouldn't worry if I were you, I doubt the Dursleys would have the nerve to show up." She kissed the top of his head, Harry gave her an anxious smile and she walked away a bit reluctantly. At the entrance she was met with a lovely sight:

Mrs Weasley, Bill, and her own mother were there, next to them were Mr and Mrs Diggory, a woman that looked a lot like Fleur along with Fleur's little sister, and two wizards that could only be Krum's parents.

"Mum!" She ran up to the woman and hugged her tightly, doing the same with Mrs Weasley and Bill. "What are you doing here?"

"Can't miss the last task now, can we?" Her mother smiled. "I tried to convince Remus to come as well, but he thought that people wouldn't react kindly after the whole scandal of last year."

Mel's attention got caught on three figures on the other side of the hall. Erick was standing next to his cousin, and on Jo's side, there was a very old man on a wheelchair. They seemed to be arguing with him.

"I'll be with you in a moment," She told her mother and the Weasleys. "Hold on..."

She walked up to Erick shyly and cleared her throat, the boy gave a start and turned to look at her.

"Yes?" He asked in a grumpy voice.

"We have to take the families to the chamber... is everything okay?"

"No– Yes," He looked over his shoulder and back at her. "My Grandad had a relapse yesterday but insisted on coming anyway. Joseph and I had to force him to sit so he doesn't tire himself out, he's throwing a tantrum."

"We can always send him back via floo," Joseph stepped in, half-joking. "Hi, Mel!"

"Hi," Mel beamed, she couldn't help but feel a little excited every time he'd talk to her.

"Well well," Mr Flint spoke over his grandson's shoulder. "You must be Miss Dumbledore!"

"Good morning Sir," She tilted her head to see him.

"My, you're pretty!" He laughed loudly, Mel found it endearing. "I see the resemblance between you and your father– Great man he was, he used to visit my store often. How's your mother?"

"She's right over there," She pointed over her shoulder. "Came to wish Harry good luck, he's my friend, you see."

"I've heard," He looked at his grandson with a knowing smile. "Oh! Haven't introduced myself, have I? Eliot Flint at your service dear girl– You've made quite the impression in my family. Erick's told me about you, and Joseph mentions you at least twice in all his letters!"

"Oh!" Mel didn't know how to respond to that, so instead, she looked at the boys.

Joseph spoke first, noticing the way Erick was positively glaring at his Grandfather.

"You're a great host," He admitted, "I dare say better than my cousin..."

"Thanks," Erick replied with a scoff.

"Well, it's true!" Joseph laughed. "I barely got to talk to you during the school year, and even then you weren't much of a talker. I'm surprised you even mentioned Mel to our Grandad– Mind you, Mel, he doesn't talk about anyone at all, sometimes I suspect he fancies–"

"I talk enough!" He snapped. "Now, if you excuse us we have to take the families to the chamber– You two stay here. Let's go..." Erick grabbed Mel's arm and pulled her away.

"You know," She chuckled, "there's nothing wrong with caring about people."

"I care about people," He replied. "Which is why I feel like I've aged five years this term."

She laughed, stopping in the middle of the large group. They all turned to look at her, which caused her to feel a bit self-conscious. Luckily for her, Erick had no problems with talking to crowds.

"If you could follow us to the chamber, you'll see your kids in a moment," He said in his best formal and controlled voice. Mel got closer to her mum.

"Harry'll be ever so pleased about you coming! He was dreading the idea of his aunt and uncle..."

"The day a Dursley sets a foot in this castle hell will freeze," Her mother laughed.

"I just couldn't miss a chance to come back, really," Bill explained. "All is exactly as I remember..."

Once in the chamber, the families divided into smaller groups. The champions walked in, all except for Harry. Erick left to present his exams and she was about to go as well when he came in, looking around curiously before his eyes landed on the Weasleys and her mum. Then he approached them with a broad smile.

"Surprise!" Mrs Weasley said once he got to them. "Thought we'd come and watch you, Harry!"

"You all right? Charlie wanted to come, but he couldn't get time off. He said you were incredible against the Horntail."

"My little boy!" Emily pulled Harry in for a hug. "You've been so brave this whole year! All the things you've done– never been more proud of you!"

"This is really nice of you," Harry muttered. "I thought for a moment — the Dursleys —"

"Hmm," said Mrs Weasley sternly.

"Sorry for that," Emily laughed, finally letting go. "But the Dursleys won't get to call themselves your family on these grounds as long as I'm alive."

Mel watched them interact, in a way, they were her little family. She couldn't wait to tell her mother about the recent events regarding her relationship with the boy.

"It's great being back here," said Bill. "Haven't seen this place for five years. Is that picture of the mad knight still around? Sir Cadogan?"

"Oh yeah," said Harry and Mel at the same time.

"And the Fat Lady?"

"She was here in my time," mentioned Mrs Weasley. "She gave me such a telling off one night when I got back to the dormitory at four in the morning —"

"What were you doing out of your dormitory at four in the morning?" Bill gaped.

"Your father and I had been for a nighttime stroll. He got caught by Apollyon Pringle — he was the caretaker in those days — your father's still got the marks."

"Fancy giving us a tour?" said Bill, looking at Mel and Harry.

"Yeah, okay," said Harry.

"Oh, I can't," She pouted, "my exams..."

"How about we walk you to class?" Emily offered. "This place is full of memories! I'd love to see the halls one more time..."

As they moved to the door, Amos Diggory spoke to Harry.

"There you are, are you?" He sneered. "Bet you're not feeling quite as full of yourself now Cedric's caught you up on points, are you?"

"What?" Harry stopped.

"Ignore him," said Cedric, giving his father a look. "He's been angry ever since Rita Skeeter's article about the Triwizard Tournament — you know when she made out you were the only Hogwarts champion."

"Didn't bother to correct her, though, did he?" said Amos Diggory. "Still... you'll show him, Ced. Beaten him once before, haven't you?"

"Rita Skeeter goes out of her way to cause trouble, Amos!" Mrs Weasley said. "I would have thought you'd know that, working at the Ministry!"

"Honestly Amos, believing a word she says it's the same as asking to a dog what he thinks about the weather," Emily added.

Mel didn't need the extra time, in the end, she finished her exam at the same time as the rest of the group. Ron asked her if Harry's relatives were in fact there and she answered with a mysterious 'you'll see'.

When they went to the Great Hall for lunch, Ron was surprised to see his brother and mum there.

"Mum — Bill! What're you doing here?" He looked at Mel's mum. "Hi, Em!"

"Come to watch Harry in the last task!" said Mrs Weasley. "I must say, it makes a lovely change, not having to cook. How was your exam?"

"Oh... okay. Couldn't remember all the goblin rebels' names, so I invented a few. It's all right," Ron said to calm her mother's spirits, "they're all called stuff like Bodrod the Bearded and Urg the Unclean; it wasn't hard."

Hermione turned up a bit later, Harry tried to find out what she'd discovered about Skeeter, however, before he could finish his sentence Hermione shut him up, her attention moving to the mothers of her friends.

"Hello, Hermione," said Mrs Weasley, rather coldly.

"Hello," said Hermione shyly.

"Mrs Weasley, you didn't believe that rubbish Rita Skeeter wrote in Witch Weekly, did you? Because Hermione's not my girlfriend," Harry was quick to point out.

"Oh! No — of course, I didn't!" Mrs Weasley blushed lightly.

"Was it all rubbish, though?" Emily asked pointedly.

"What'd you mean?" Mel asked.

"Dunno, something about you and that Diggory boy," The woman fought back a smirk, "and a french boy..."

Mel inhaled sharply and choked on her food. She shook her head energetically as Hermione patted her back harshly.

"That was rubbish too, yes," Harry added, kicking Ron's leg under the table so he wouldn't speak.

"Okay then," Emily replied. "Not that I wouldn't support you, but if my daughter's dating someone, I'd hate to find out through the Daily Prophet."

"Oh, yes," Mel glared at her mother playfully. "I'm well aware of how invested you are in my love life."

Emily winked at her without saying anything, Harry gave her a questioning look but Mel shook her head, brushing it off like it was nothing.

The way the Emily’s eyes shone throughout the day helped Harry picture her at fifteen-years-old, walking around the castle with his parents and Matthew, much like Mel: happy and beautiful. Carefree, with dreams to spare.

Mel's exams went by without any troubles, and by the time they had the feast, she sat next to him, holding his hand under the table while no one else was looking in an attempt to ease his nerves.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Dumbledore said. "In five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr Bagman down to the stadium now."

As they got up, the Gryffindors broke into applause for Harry; the Weasleys, Emily and Hermione wished him good luck, and they finally left the Great Hall to enter the quiet evening.

"How're your nerves?" Erick asked her. "I must say you're keeping it together better than before..."

"I've grown used to the knot in my stomach," She shrugged. "After the tenth time, this turns into a routine."

He chuckled lowly.

"My Grandad liked you, apparently you reminded him a lot to one of his girlfriends."

"Oh," Mel frowned, "...thanks?"

"I didn't know how to respond to that either."

"I think he's nice," She said. "Very lovely."

"Yeah," Erick replied, a look of fondness betraying his usual cold demeanour.

"Hey," Harry quickly caught up with them, looking considerably more nervous than before. "You remember what the jelly-leg jinx counter spell was? Because I keep trying to remember and–"

"Glasses," Mel scowled. "Don't do that, if you keep repeating things over and over you'll get them all mixed up!"

"Focus on the fact that you got here in a quite respectable place," Erick added. "Unexpected, but definitely something to be proud of."

"Er, thanks," Harry said.

"You just pull through this one, then it'll be over," She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "You'll be okay."

He nodded, his eyes fixed on the tall maze ahead. Erick and Mel got separated again, the boy had to guide the students to their seats making sure there were no empty spaces and Mel was with the champions.

She walked past Moody and brushed past him, a wave of something hit her and she stopped in place, feeling extremely dizzy.

"Is everything all right, Miss Dumbledore?" Moody asked, eyeing her up in a calculating way.

"I..." She stared at him, wondering why the feeling reminded her so much to Riddle's diary. "Yeah... just nervous, I think."

Moody nodded once and kept walking, Mel did the same.

"This way!" Erick told the students as he walked backwards. "McLaggen, if you can muster a bit of brain to pay attention to what I'm saying, there's a seat right behind you– No, you idiot, I said behind–!"

"Hello?" Emily said to the boy. "You may not know me, but I think you've been reading my books all summer... I'm Emily Sultens."

Erick's cheeks turned pink at the statement. He cleared his throat and raised a stiff hand to shake hers.

"Nice to meet you, ma'am," He said a bit hurriedly.

"Just wanted to let you know, if there's anything we can do to help– more books, or even have you over a few days during summer... I'm happy to help, kid."

"Thanks," He replied clumsily. "I should- uh, I should go back..."

"Sure," Emily smiled, moving out of his way. "See you..."

Erick didn't respond, he merely nodded and walked back to where the champions and his teachers were.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," Professor McGonagall explained. "If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?"

The champions nodded.

"Off you go, then!" said Bagman.

Mel gave Harry one last hug before leaving.

"Good luck," She said. "I'll be looking after you."

"I know," He smiled. "You always are."

"And I'm brilliant at it," The girl grinned, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before finally stepping back.

"Ready?" Erick asked her as they were to part in opposite directions around the maze.

"I think so," Mel replied, holding onto her wand tightly.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha​ @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @kylosleftbuttcheek @reverse-hxlland @bloodorangemoonlight @omiwashere​ @t-rexs-world

[samwrights]

Spider’s Web

So for those of you who don’t have me on AO3, I have an Oikawa/OC/Iwa story up on there and I REALLY want to make it into a poly relationship, that’s just not the direction for that particular story. That being said, I’m most likely going to pull a lot of inspiration from there. However, if you have my AO3 account and are reading Proper Dose, please please please don’t spoil any of it for anyone else. Things that haven’t been posted on there (namely the OCs relationship to Oikawa) is going to be included here.

Enough rambling.

Edit: I am going to FIGHT the tumblr text post editor that WOULD NOT save every time I went back to format this.

Warnings: language and NSFW!

Nobody understood the dynamic, the gall, you had dating both Iwaizumi Hajime and Oikawa Tōru. That was okay, it wasn’t anybody else business but the three of your own.

It started out in your guys’ second year of high school. You had class with Iwa for the last two years and would eventually move onto the third together as well—many thought he was a shallow piece of shit, Oikawa included, when they learned that the Seijoh ace was dating the captain of the cheerleading team, let alone top of their class. Aoba Johsai knew you as nothing more than that.

Iwaizumi knows better.

He knows the long, hard hours you put into your sport; the literal blood, sweat, and tears. He knew the struggles you faced with home life and your parents thinking your “sport” was a complete waste of time, regardless of the fresh bruises and cuts you came home with every day, they made sure to tell you as such. And he knew you took everything out on yourself — the frustration of constantly trying to make your family happy while struggling to do so for yourself — never wanting to take refuge with another person, until he came along.

To him, it seemed almost natural to be with you—you were almost Oikawa’s female counterpart and that was a love he had long swallowed and repressed. The drive, the ambition, and the self-discipline, or lack thereof, was eerily similar, too similar for Iwaizumi’s comfort. At first, anyway.

You and Oikawa didn’t get along at first. His stand-offish attitude, especially to you being cheer captain, rubbed you the wrong way. He thought you were shallow, even more so than Iwaizumi after you two started dating, and the only thing you were going to do was break Iwaizumi’s heart and he wouldn’t stand for it. However, when his ACL got torn in second year, you were the first one at his side besides the ace.

“If you’re important to Iwa, you’re important to me too,” was all you responded with when he asked why you were waiting him for the ambulance. Iwaizumi had to, unfortunately, carry out the remainder of the tournament without the captain by his side.

And so, the spider’s web began to thread.

You and Iwaizumi were only dating for a year and some change before hitting a breaking point. For your safety, he had begged for you to quit your club after colliding with another girl on your team in your third year, that you had nearly dislocated your now insufferably swollen jaw. Despite the collision, the Aoba Johsai cheer team had made it to regionals after six long years of rivalry with Shiratorizawa, but the success didn’t matter to the volleyball ace. “You’re going to get hurt, [name]!”

“But I didn’t, and I’m not fucking quitting!” Despite the care and support Iwaizumi Hajime had always given you, the two of you were at odds as the two of you and Oikawa were walking back from your prefectural qualifier held at the Sendai City Gymnasium. Oddly enough, Oikawa of all people acted as the mediator that day.

“Iwa, what do you love about [name]?” He had asked his best friend.

“Her passion, mostly. But right now—“

“So if you force her to quit the one thing she’s passionate about, is she going to be the same person?” You could have cried that day. Shit, you did cry because never in a million years did you think Oikawa Tōru would be coming to your defense, especially not about this. But he understood, better than anyone, what it meant to be completely devoted to what you do and he would be damned if the boy he loved more than anyone would take away the one thing that you cared about the most. 

It didn’t make sense to anyone but Oikawa. However, he knew that if you lost the one thing that motivated you in life, you would no longer be the person that Iwaizumi loved, and that hurt the captain deeply. While Iwaizumi didn’t necessarily appreciate that Oikawa came to your defense, he understood the logic behind his reasoning. “I’m only saying this because I love you, but let her do her thing.” The captain added to his ace. Iwaizumi had no idea that he had meant it literally at the time.

Since that day, you and Oikawa became quite close. He understood a part of you that, despite the passion that Iwa had for volleyball as well, the ace just didn’t understand the dedication the both of you had. You both loved what your sport and what you did. You also both loved Iwaizumi Hajime and never had an intent to let him go.

“You know, Iwa may complain that you’re too much like me, but I think that’s why he likes you.” Oikawa had said one day when they two of you were out on a friend date. It was a regular occurrence for the two of you, considering that there were times you needed to get out and away from your parents and Iwaizumi just couldn’t be there. That was okay; he was his own person too.

“I don’t disagree with you, Oiks.” You were aware of how the volleyball captain felt for your boyfriend—you would be stupid not to notice. But it didn’t hinder your friendship with the man in the slightest; if anything, it intrigued you further. “Sometimes, I feel like he’s only with me because I’m like you.”

And so another ring to the spider’s web is added, as the couple slowly captures their unsuspecting prey.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on with you two?” Iwaizumi Hajime is pissed. It’s in the middle of the inter high preliminaries—just after Seijoh beat Karasuno. You’d gone up to congratulate the boys on their win, giving a long hug and peck on the cheek to the volleyball captain who has now become one of your best friends. It wasn’t hard, once Oikawa got over the qualities that you shared, the very same ones he hated in himself.

There were things about you that made the two of you different. For starters, you embraced freedom, something that Oikawa could never do. That freedom and liberation to be yourself so fully, so unabashedly, kind of made you a badass in his eyes, one almost equal to the object of his affections. Granted, not many other people at Aoba Johsai cared for this attitude of yours—it made you untouchable, unapproachable, like you somehow thought that you assumed yourself to be better than them. Whereas Oikawa was your opposite in that regard with everyone thinking much higher of him and yet he never felt that he was enough. In layman’s terms, Oikawa strives to reach the pinnacle, where as you sat at the top only to feel alone and isolated until Iwaizumi Hajime came along.

“Whaddya mean, Iwa?” Oikawa responds light-heartedly and the man in question knows that he’s playing around. Grinding his teeth against each other, the ace grabs the both of you before dragging you guys into the hall. He’s red with anger and you’re unsure if the capillaries in his eyes are going to burst from the pressure.

“What the fuck is going on with you two?” He repeats.

“Baby, nothing is going on—“

“You expect me to believe that when I see the way you two hold each other—“

“It’s because he can’t hold you, Haji.” Oikawa snaps his brown eyes towards your shorter frame, wondering when and why you would even consider betraying him right now, of all times. “I’m comforting him, Hajime. Win or not, he doesn’t get to be held and kissed by the person he loves, just the next best thing—his girlfriend.” The captain wants to kill you; wants to run and hide because he can’t take the intensity of the situation. It’s not exciting or thrilling like when he’s normally presented with a challenge—this is nerve wracking.

“What?” Is all the ace has to say. His olive green eyes are now locked on his best friend and the king is in checkmate. “I’ve been in love with you for years and after finally moving on you decide to say something to my girlfriend?” Oikawa wants to run. Contrary to popular belief, there is nothing he hates more than seeing Iwaizumi mad at him — genuinely, truly mad at him. It was the whole reason that Iwaizumi was the only person that could get through to him in the first place.

He becomes defensive, saying the only smart ass remark he can muster. “She’s not complaining, is she?” Wrong move, Oikawa.

“More importantly,” you interrupt before the two of them glare so hard at each other that the sexual tension overrides their rationality, “you both finally admitted to being in love with each other at some point in time.”

And then they’re quiet. Another thread in the web drops.

They lose to Karasuno and it is the end of their high school volleyball career. At this point, you aren’t sure what’s worse—the tragic end or the fact that you were granted permission to ride the bus home with them and the two of them are currently hiding their faces in your shoulders in the back row of the bus. The three of you are the last to get off after arriving at Seijoh and you stay for the meeting knowing that Iwaizumi was going to walk you home after. He didn’t need to announce it, you knew by the grip he had on your hand during the entire meeting.

The team parts ways, leaving you in the comfort of your boyfriend and your best friend. “We doing this?” You look at both of them, noticing the way they refuse to look at each other. In a sense, it makes your heart hurt because you’ve grown to love both of these boys so much. Iwaizumi, the boy who saw you for what you were underneath your prickly exterior. He knew you underneath fake smiles and even faker conversations. He knew you for you.

Then there was Oikawa. The boy that unknowingly saved you by saving yours and Iwaizumi’s relationship. The boy that, after months of misunderstanding you, knew how to make you bloom and grow into the person you were and wanted to continue being. The boy that wanted to see you flourish not only for Iwaizumi’s sake, but because the two of you helped each other grow in ways that others could not. He knew what you wanted to be, and he knew he wasn’t going to stop being a part of your life until you got there.

Saying nothing else, you grab both of their hands before taking them to a place that had become a home to the three of you. Caffe Veloce was your destination of choice this evening, figuring that talking about such sensitive subjects on school grounds wasn’t necessarily the best place to converse. It was far from foreign for you, to be holding the hands of them both. In Iwaizumi’s absence, Oikawa often held your hand when you went places together—mostly so that he could have the physical touch he often craved. Eventually, it just became a habit. 

Despite the chilly, October evening air, the three of you had opted to sit outside so that nobody could eavesdrop on the conversation. After all, walls tend to reflect sound whereas the open air allows the vibrations to fade into nothing. “So, who wants to start?” You ask, as if you asking about how their day had gone rather than to talk about the underlying tension that had been eating the three of you alive for the last two months.

“Start with what—“ Iwaizumi is uncomfortable. He feels his girlfriend and his best friend of many years both staring at him, feels the way his heart his pounding in his chest like it isn’t doing its job of providing blood to his body. The thrumming in his ears is deafening.

“I love you, dummy.” That was a first for you, to hear Oikawa call him a name that’s met with bitter distaste. It’s a first, but it is a sign of growth. For Oikawa Tōru, he has always placed his best friend on some sort of pedestal, always regarding the man to god-like status and listening to his direction like gospel. At the end of the day, Iwaizumi Hajime is but a simple man. A man that the captain has been in love with for as long as he can remember.

“You can’t do this to me,” the ace simpers weakly as his resolve crumbles with a fragility foreign to him, “you know that I’ve been dating [name] for the last year—“

“And I love her too, Iwa. I wouldn’t have been able to even say this to you without her.”

“Aw,” you coo to the captain, “I love you too, Oiks.”

“This is too fucking weird.” Iwaizumi spits out, folding his arms over his chest and turning away from you both. Oikawa pretends the words don’t hurt but it’s nearly impossible to ignore the shards of his glass heart dropping from his chest into his stomach.

“Haji, just hear me out,” you say cautiously, gingerly holding one of his hands in yours, “if anyone can make this work, it’s us.”

There was pattern in the web becomes more intricate, as another spider adds webs to the loom.

The three of you graduate—Aoba Johsai, class of 2012. It’s a beautiful ceremony, but your parents never came to watch you walk. Instead, you’re filled with love from Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s family, neither of them knows your guys’ little secret. They knew you existed, Haji’s family knew you two were together and Oikawa’s knew the two of you were close friends, but they never even had the thought the complex and complicated web of your relationship existed.

After rigorous debate, the three of you settled on attending university and getting an apartment together. It’s strange, at first, like the three of you are truly seeing each for the first time in your lives. In a sense, you are, as the three of you share many firsts together. Like the first time you all sleep in your collective king size bed—the boys had given you the short lived honor of taking the space between them. After all, you were the one that brought this all together.

The first fight was probably the worst memory, yet one of the best at the same time. While fighting was normal between Oikawa and Iwaizumi, as their childhood anctics had yet to be put to rest, there was now an intricate level of intimacy that had broken free of the former and every insult hurled by the latter had been a nail in the setter’s coffin. “Haji, you need to chill out. You’re hurting Tōru’s feelings,”

“You always take his fucking side, [name], and I’m so fucking tired of it. You were my girlfriend first when he didn’t give a rat’s ass about you so why are you choosing him over me?”

“Asshat, I’m not picking a side, I’m picking our relationship over anything. And our relationship includes you, me, and dumbass so for the love of fuck, please stop actually hurting his feelings because then we lose a part of our relationship!”

“Why did you have to ruin it by calling me ‘dumbass’, babe?” Oikawa whines, the edge he was feeling from Iwaizumi’s anger tampering off with the way you handled him. One thing that Oikawa Tōru loves about you was the way you knew just what to say when it came to Iwa. It was another major distinction between the two of you. Simmering down, the former ace clenches his teeth as he claws at his scalp with his jagged fingernails.

“I’m sorry guys.” He says quietly, knowing that you’re right. At the end of the day, the most important thing was this strange, twisted relationship he’d landed in. But this relationship had you and it had Oikawa, and that was all Iwaizumi ever wanted.

The spider’s web is almost completely threaded.

The best memory overall was the very first time the three of you made love together, and it had nothing to do with the fact that there were three of you. It was the fact that three of you were so consumed and in love with each other that not a single movement felt wrong or rushed—everyone finally belonged to each other. There was no doubt of who loved whom more, an insecurity that had long gnawed at the back of your mind, which prompted the aforementioned evening.

“You guys have each other—you always have. I’m just kind of...here,” you had told them once after the two of them had returned from a movie date alone. At the time, you were curled up on the couch watching corny teen romance movies after coming home from a long day at work with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s that you’d demolished easily in the two hours you were left to your own devices.

“Honey,” Iwaizumi plopped beside you, taking the empty cup from your hand and setting it on the coffee table before pulling you into his lap with ease with his arms encircling your waist. “We have each other because we have you. Don’t ever think that you aren’t important to us too.” His words are meant to be encouraging, you know that they are, but you swear you hear little voices in your mind telling you that you were the one not cut out for this lifestyle. Knowing he’s not getting through, Oikawa rests on the arm of the couch, one leg swaying as it doesn’t quite touch the ground while his hands grasp one of yours.

“Babe, we only went without you because you were at work. We missed you the whole time,” you can sense the contradictory sentence coming, “but when you’re busy, Iwa and I take the time to explore being together too. You had a whole extra year and half of dating him—there’s things that I don’t know about him as a boyfriend that I have to learn for myself too.” Judging by the silence, Iwaizumi is worried that Oikawa had said the wrong thing even though he’s still holding you. But he couldn’t have said the wrong thing because it’s entirely true and all three of you know that.

“I love you guys.” You tuck your head underneath Hajime’s chin, simultaneously squeezing Oikawa’s hand in comfort and in search of forgiveness for your almost bull-headed attitude.

“We love you too, princess.” The former ace adds softly, his jaw moving along the crown of your head as speaks.

“Why don’t we show you how much we love you?”

The three of you being together is a clarity you’d never experienced before—truly a feeling unlike any other. The way that Hajime is tentative and rough at the same time, making sure they every millimeter of your skin is bruised and bitten with purple affection, whereas Tōru seeks to bring you reassurance with encouraging whispers while caressing your breasts. Your back is to the former captain’s chest, allowing him to nibble on your bare shoulders while he holds you down as Iwaizumi has his face between your thighs.

Had it not been so intimate, you probably would have pushed to skip all the foreplay.

But Iwa has his face between your thighs with your legs dangling off his shoulders as he’s nipping and biting at the flesh on either side of him. Each bite makes you help from sensitivity, while Oikawa does his best to pinch and tease your nipples while filling your head with loving words. “We’re gonna take real good care you,” he croons sweetly as a whimper escapes your throat.

Iwaizumi gives a tentative lick to your folds, cautiously peeling them back like a flower, as if he had never done this with you. In some capacity, you suppose that was true. Carefully, his tongue swirls around your swelling clit, taking his sweet time to coax your reaction. “Haji!” Instinctively, you press your thighs together, nearly crushing his head but the man between you likes the pain. Oikawa brings a hand gingerly underneath your jaw before his fingers dig into your skin, pulling your attention away from Iwaizumi and onto him.

“I want to feel you.” And his lips are on yours as if it were the first time you had ever kissed. While he’s still holding your chin, his tongue is laving against your slightly chapped lips, almost as if to soothe the dryness, before he slips in. You aren’t sure what’s more distracting—the strange, intimate way that Oikawa Tōru is exploring your mouth with his tongue or the fact that Iwaizumi Hajime was mirroring the exact same treatment on your cunt. Their movements are slow and steady and you’re wondering just how they know that the other is moving this cautiously.

But slow and steady and cautious has never been Iwaizumi’s style in bed, no matter how much he tried to make the moment last. For just a second, he pulls away from your lower region swabbing his middle finger around his mouth and inserting it into you without warning before his tongue comes back to join the party. Were it not for Oikawa’s mouth covering your own at the moment, you’re sure that a string of profanities would be leaving your mouth with the way Hajime’s finger is pressing and reaching for the weak spots that his tongue cannot reach.

Oikawa’s freehand travels down from pinching your nipple to threading themselves into Iwaizumi’s hair, encouraging him to bring you closer and closer to your first orgasm of the evening. The ace didn’t need to be told twice. Rather than swatting off Oikawa’s hand, Iwaizumi blindly grabs his wrist with his own free hand, pulling the setter closer so as if to signal to him that he needs to be pulled harder. Adding another finger inside of you, Iwa sets a punishing pace, entirely turned on by the burning feeling in his scalp and the muted moans of yours that his best friend was covering up.

There’s almost no rhythm to his work, or so you believe. But Iwaizumi is a meticulous man, and he would be damned if he didn’t love a woman properly. His fingers are nearly fucking you open, alternating between scissoring you and pushing on that spongy bundle of tissue that makes you want to scream, all the while your clit is being rolled between his teeth with an occasional suckle, nearly sucking the oxygen straight from your lungs. You pull away from Tōru, eyes half shut as broken cries leave your chest while you try and regain your breath. “We love you, [name],” the setter mumbles along your skin, pulling even harder at his best friend’s scalp to tell him to finish you. Iwaizumi pulls away from your warmth, his chin drenched with saliva and your juices and Oikawa swears up and down he’s never seen the man more attractive than he was in that moment.

The ace pulls his fingers from inside you before the flats of three of his fingers are wildly, furiously, rubbing at your sensitive clit because all he wants right now is to hear you scream. But you live in an apartment and have neighbors and as much as they both want to hear you beg and cry for them, Oikawa shoves three fingers in your mouth to keep you quiet. “Don’t ever think for a second that we don’t love you,” Iwaizumi grits out between his grinding teeth, his hand moving at breakneck speeds knowing you’re so goddamn close.

“Fuckfuckfuck—“ you’re chanting out around Oikawa’s fingers while his free hand migrated to languidly stroke the man bringing you to your end. That caught his attention real quick, as Iwaizumi crashed his lips onto Tōru’s. It was rough and loving at the same time, much like the ace himself. Your orgasm ripped through you like a tsunami causing you to bite down on the captain’s fingers. Whiny whimpers escape through your muffled slew of curses as Iwaizumi’s speed slows before he pulls his soaked hand away from you, Oikawa doing the same with your mouth before he pins Iwaizumi down onto the bed, overcome and overwhelmed with need. Luckily for him, you’re incapacitated at the moment, giving the boys a chance to show each other their love as well.

It’s captivating to watch, you muse internally, the way that Iwaizumi goes from manhandling you to delicately cradling every part of Oikawa that he can touch. The way their tongues are swirling together and the way they’re both stroking each other’s cocks to alleviate an ounce of pressure—it’s so intimate. It’s so goddamn beautiful. Despite Tōru claiming they were going to show you how much they loved you, this worked just as well because there’s a part of you adores the way they love each other just as much.

Like watching a fly become trapped in a spider’s, large, billowing web.

[thorongil82]

Forgotten But Not Gone CH2

Fandom: Pokémon

Chapter: 2/?

Chapter (Cumulative) Word Count: 8,548 (14,179)

Can also be read on AO3 and FFN

Chapter Summary: The invitations have been sent, and Seishi must get their preparations in order.

AN: I'll just address a couple of things: Firstly, I was aware after sending the last chapter that the Frontier Brains in Platinum are the same as the ones in HG/SS. Think it just slipped my mind. But, I'm not rectifying that, and I'll just use some other characters and/or make some OCs to fill those spots. Nothing overly major, just addressing my mistake. 

Also, fair warning, a decent amount of this chapter is going to be exposition. And it's a longer chapter. Mainly we'll be going over some stuff for the tournament, along with characters appearing in the story. However, you will get your first look at all the Gym Leaders and Elite Four members of Seishi, along with the Champion. There's also another new character in as well. I'll leave a list for them at the end.

Well, that should be it. So, read on, and enjoy!

-----

“Now, Starmie, finish it with Water Pulse!” orders a female trainer with honey-orange hair, wearing a white and blue trimmed one-piece swimsuit with a light blue jacket thrown over the top.

The purple ten-legged starfish Pokémon crackles in acknowledgement as it leaps up into the air. A solid blue ball of energy forms in front of its shiny red gem, before launching through the air with trail of water spraying out behind it. The aqua orb collides with a flying chestnut brown and white feathered Pokémon arcing round in the air.

“Pi-Pirrrrrr!” the Pokémon cries out as the impact causes an explosion, before it crashes down to the water stage below.

“Pidgeotto is unable to battle!” a woman with long golden flowing hair calls out as the dual Normal-and-Flying type Pokémon lies still on the floating platform atop the pool of water, with spirals in its eyes. She raises her right hand up towards to the red haired trainer and her Starmie. “Starmie is the winner! So the victor is the Cerulean Gym Leader, Misty!”

“Alright!” Misty cheers with a giggle, pumping her fist in the air. “Good job, Starmie.”

The dual Water-and-Psychic Pokémon, rolls round on its legs to face her, its red gem lighting up as it beeps out a reply.

“Good job, Pidgeotto,” her challenger says with a small smile as she pulls out a Pokéball, a red light shooting out from it and engulfing Pidgeotto before it disappears inside. “We'll do better next time.”

The challenger then turns to Misty and bows, as the Gym Leader dives off of her podium into the pool below. She swims over to the other side in the time it takes the other trainer to walk down the stairs for her podium, and gets back out to head over.

“I'm going to go and train some more, and I'll come back another day,” the challenger says.

“Sounds like a plan,” Misty replies as she bundles up some of her hair and rings it out.

“I'll win next time!” she says as she takes off, waving behind her.

“Come back anytime,” Misty calls out as she disappears, before turning to her Starmie. “Why don't you have a swim?”

Starmie beeps out once before rolling into the pool with a splash. With a giggle, she also pulls out two more Pokéballs from her now wet jacket and enlarges them, before releasing a Seaking and a Quagsire into the pool.

“Why don't you both have a nice swim too? You all battled really hard.”

The two let out their own joyous cries before swimming off.

“You've definitely gotten stronger over the years, sis,” the blonde haired judge says as she hobbles over to the Gym Leader, leaning heavily on a crutch held in her right hand, taking the brunt of the weight that would have otherwise been placed on her right leg, also supported by a knee brace and strapping wrapping by the ankle.

“I … I guess,” Misty meekly replies as her eyes dropping down to look at the injured leg before darting away.

“Hey, it's getting better,” she says with a smile, placing a hand on Misty's shoulder. “Slowly but surely, and soon we'll be back to a full trio of Sensational Sisters.”

“Trio? There's four of us, Daisy, not three,” Misty points out, her brow furrowed.

“Hey, I only said you've gotten stronger. There's still a lot more you need to work on before you can even consider being sensational,” Daisy retorts with a wink and a slight poke out of the tip of her tongue.

“And yet I could still beat all three of you,” Misty jabs back with a growl, only for the pair of them to devolve into a fit of giggles.

“There's that fire we love,” Daisy smiles warmly, as they both settle down. “Feeling better?”

“Yeah … thanks, sis.”

“Hey! Misty!” another female voice calls out from direction of the entrance, before a woman looking very similar to both Misty and Daisy, with shiny fuchsia hair with two curly strands hanging down the side of her face, while the rest is scrunched up in a bun at the back, runs in, waving her hand above her head with a letter clenched in her other hand. She's quickly followed in by another similar looking woman, with long flowing indigo hair, who rushes over carrying another crutch in her arms.

“Some guy just came round with a letter for you,” the latter says as she hands the second crutch to Daisy, helping her as she gets her hand through the ring and gripped onto the handle.

“For me?” Misty asks.

“Yeah,” the former answers as she hands the letter over. “Oh, and can you and your Pokémon clear out the pool? Violet and I need to rehearse our routine for our next show.”

“You can wait a little longer until I've read this, Lily!” huffs Misty as she looks over the envelope.

“Hmph! Meanie,” Lily pouts, crossing her arms across her chest and turning her head away in faux anger.

“Come on, Lily, we can let her Pokémon have a bit of a swim,” Violet interjects.

“Fine,” grumbles Lily, “but we better not miss out on a big break because we're under-prepared.”

Misty rolls her eyes and turns the envelope over, her eyes widening slightly at the seal holding the envelope shut. Stamped into the blood red wax is an inscribed Pokéball with a trophy behind it, and a Moltres behind the trophy with flaming wings spread out.

“It's from the Pokémon League,” Misty mutters out loud, just strong enough for all her sisters to hear. “Wonder what they want ...”

-----

In a large room sitting high up in Lumiose City's Prism Tower, a short girl with light blonde hair, braided up at the front ending in a large bun on the left hand side that's bound with a scrunchie designed like a ring of flower petals, with the rest falling down her back to her waist, wearing a crimson jacket tied at the front with an orange ribbon, with a creamy white blouse underneath, and a short black skirt, hops onto the cluttered workbench. Her rose pink satchel bounces next to her as she lands down, the impact jostling a couple of the mechanical components resting on the bench, as she looks at an older glasses wearing man with the same coloured hair, clad in a grimy teal lab coat with a yellow horizontal stripe across the front, looks down at the letter in his hand.

“Come on, Clemont! she whines, ignoring the clattering as a robot looking similar to the man shuffles around the rest of the room, cleaning up the many mechanical components, processors, tools and metallic parts. “What does it say?!”

“I have to open it first, Bonnie,” Clemont mentions as he breaks the seal on the envelope, opening up the letter.

The room falls silent for a moment, save for the clattering caused as Clembot continues shuffling throughout the room, picking out the scattered mess and sorting it apart. Bonnie sighs as she waits for her brother, tapping her fingers against the bench.

“No way!” Clemont suddenly exclaims, causing his sister to jump in shock and fall off the worktable.

“What? What is it?” she asks, the flap on her satchel flipping open as a tiny yellow Pokémon pops its head out, antennae sticking out from the red sacks on its cheeks sparking with electricity.

“De-Ne?”

“The Pokémon Masters League is on this year!” Clemont exclaims, shaking slightly as he looks at her, only to be met with a blank look.

“The what?”

“The Pokémon Masters League! It's a prestigious tournament held every twenty years!” he says, standing up as he starts to pace around the room.

“Do you know what he's talking about, Dedenne?”

“Ne-nne,” Dedenne replies with the shake of its head.

“Is this some sort of tournament for strong trainers?” Clembot asks as it walks over, the cleaning forgotten as its curiosity is peaked.

“Not just strong trainers! It's for the strongest of the strongest!”

“Awesome!” Bonnie shouts as Clemont's words finally seem to hit home. “Of course they'd invite you if they were after the strongest trainers in the world. They'd be fools not to invite the Light of Lumiose City.”

“Well, some people, like Gym Leaders, automatically qualify for the tournament,” Clemont chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Well, even if they didn't, you'd still qualify with flying colours, I'm sure of it,” Bonnie insists, accompanied by a nod from Clembot.

“Indeed, sir. You're certainly one of the finest battlers I've ever seen.”

“Oh, I don't know about that …”

-----

“Remind me what I'm doing here?” a woman, with a long jet black ponytail with violet highlights in her hairline, down the right side of her hair, and the tip of her ponytail, asks as she looks towards the other two women sitting at their round table placed outside a café in Viridian City.

The woman who had asked the question is dressed in a plain white sleeveless shirt and a pair of black jeans held up with a worn brown leather belt. The woman to her left has sweeping shoulder length charcoal black hair that curls out at the base of her neck, while wearing a spaghetti string tank top that bares her lean midriff, a pair of long clean white pants, and a pair of thick and weighty looking black and glowing seafoam green bracelets on her wrists. The pale skinned woman to her right has rounded black hair, with cut bangs held back by a cherry red headband, and is wrapped up in a dandelion yellow kimono with tangerine maple leaves falling around the trim, tied off with a cherry red obi.

“I figured you wouldn't have heard about this,” the woman to her left explains. “It's only this time that your home region has been included in the festivities.”

“Along with Alola,” the kimono wearing woman adds, blinking as if she had just woken up before sighing and slumping back in her seat.

“Yes, but that's to be expected, as both regions didn't have a league during the last tournament. And it's being held in Seishi. So, maybe you could give us an idea of what your home is like, Jade?”

“No idea,” Jade sighs as she takes a sip from the cup of tea in front of her. “Left five years ago, haven't been back. Could have changed a lot.”

“Now why don't I believe you?” the tank top wearing woman asks, crossing her legs over one another, pressing her elbow onto the top leg and placing her hand under her chin.

“Because you can't trust anything that hasn't been checked by your powers?” Jade jabs back with a raised eyebrow, getting a smirk in response. “Besides, why don't you just use your powers to look into the future, Miss Psychic Mistress?”

“My foresight ability is somewhat limited,” she explains. “Besides, more fun to have things happen without knowing it beforehand.”

“Whatever. Why don't you start your history lesson that you've worked so hard on before we …?”

Both look over to their kimono wearing companion, who appears to be looking off vacantly, her gaze locked onto a point somewhere near the tank top wearing woman. Jade sighs as she leans back in her seat.

“Too late. We've lost her.”

“Erika, is something the matter?” the tank top wearer questions.

“... Huh? O-Oh, no, sorry,” the kimono clad woman absently answers as she shakes herself back to reality, her eyes losing their glassy sheen and returning to focus. “I'm just still a bit amazed by your wardrobe change, Sabrina.”

The sudden confession has the table quiet for a beat before a snort comes from Jade, followed by an almost unnoticeable curl of the corners of her mouth. The Saffron City Gym Leader, on the other hand, just looks at her Celadon City counterpart with a deadpan expression.

“I mean, before you used to dress up so conservatively,” Erika continues on, oblivious to the reactions of her fellow Gym Leaders as her voice gains a cheery mirth. “But now you look so cute and casual. And you even freshened your hair up. It really does suit this 'Psychic Mistress' image you've been showing off now.”

“L-Look, can we just get back on track with the Masters League, instead of focusing on my … complete … style … change …” Sabrina manages to strangle out, folding her arms over her exposed  midriff and turning her head away, a light rosy tint dusting across her cheeks.

“I'm sure you've gotten a lot more attention thanks to this too,” Erika continues on, showing no sign that she had heard Sabrina's suggestion. “I must say, it's nice to see how much you've … grown … up …”

Erika's voice trails as she feels a hand on her left shoulder. She turns to her left, finding nothing there save for the disconnected floating purple hand lingering on her shoulder. Her skin manages to get even paler as a strained whimper sounds out from the back of her throat.

“HAUNTER!!!” a voice bellows from her other side, causing her to shriek and jump out of her seat, falling on the ground. Sabrina, despite trying to keep it smothered with her hand, lets a little giggle escape through her fingers at Haunter's antics, while the Ghost Pokémon laughs loudly at the result of its joke.

“O-Okay, please continue,” Erika says a little shakily as she gets back into her chair, dusting off her kimono.

“So, you both know how if a challenger beats all the Gym Leaders and wins that region's conference that they're allowed to enter the Champions League to take on the Elite Four and the Champion?”

“Is that meant to be a shot at me?” Jade asks with a glare.

“Not at all, just where I'm starting,” Sabrina mentions, unperturbed by the sharp glare burning onto her skin.

“Right …”

“Well, the Pokémon League wanted to give other trainers a chance to become a Pokémon Master if they competed well enough across different conferences. Their reasoning was that just because a trainer won a conference didn't automatically make them the strongest trainer overall, nor did it mean that if you finished in the Top 4 that you were one of the four strongest trainers competing."

“So, sixty years ago, the first Masters League was created,” Jade intervenes with a bored tone, getting a look from Sabrina. “To prove which trainers were the strongest of the strong, the Gym Leaders from all competing regions, along with the Elite Four members and the Champions, would be thrown into the mix along with the trainers that had won conferences, trainers that had consistently proven themselves in multiple conferences, and others who were recognised to be powerful trainers in their own right by a selecting committee. Every twenty years the event is held, in a different region, and the winner has the right to be known as the greatest Pokémon Master in the world.”

“So, you do know all about it,” Sabrina says.

“Force of habit,” Jade replies with a shrug as she takes another drink from her tea.

“Haun Haunter,” Haunter moans, holding out a flower to Erika as it looks down to the floor.

“Oh, is this for me, Haunter?” she asks.

“Haunter,” the Gas Pokémon nods.

“How sweet,” Erika smiles and reaches out for the flower, only to let out a shriek as the flower opens up and sprays a stream of water out into her face.

“Hau Hau Hau!” Haunter cackles, covering his mouth with his floating hands.

“Haunter,” Sabrina warns sternly.

Haunter continues to cackle wildly at the prank, spiralling around in the air jovially. That is, until it comes to a sudden stop as a cloud of dark flickering purple smoke circulates around it. The gas Pokémon pulls out a handkerchief seemingly from out thin air and starts fanning it out. And yet, the air pushing out does nothing to disperse the spontaneous smoke.

“H-Haun …” Haunter murmurs nervously, head swivelling around as the smoke starts to manifest into ominous spectres of indigo mass and flickering violet flames.

Haunter throws up his hands and starts to float away, only to be followed by the spectres no matter where he goes. Sabrina and Erika both watch this strange sight, as Haunter frantically flies rings through the air with the spectres never losing any ground, before the former looks over towards the Leader of the Viridian City Gym, who is very calmly drinking her tea as if nothing unusual is happening.

“Could you call off your friend?” Sabrina asks.

“No idea what you're talking about,” Jade replies.

-----

“So, this is a tournament for all the strongest trainers in the world, right?” a man with shaggy grape purple hair, dressed in a navy blue and black jacket with a cobalt shirt underneath, and a pair of indigo cargo pants, asks as he looks into a video phone in a Pokémon Centre located in Sinnoh's famed Fight Area.

“That's right,” answers a similar looking man on the other side, his long dark purple hair drawn back into a ponytail, wearing a long sleeved coral shirt with a seafoam green apron over the top.

“So, does that include the Battle Frontier?”

“Well, I don't believe the Battle Frontier was set up when the last tournament took place, though I know Brandon, Palmer and Argenta were invited. They all got pretty far, too.”

The man on the other side of the video call drops his head slightly and pulls up a letter into view of the bottom of the screen, as his eyes read across the page.

“However, they are saying that the Frontier Brains have been invited,” he notes.

“Good, so we get another shot at defeating Brandon.”

“Slow down, Paul,” the man on the screen chuckles as he notes the cold fire burning in his eyes. “There's no guarantee that you'll get matched up with him. And besides, you're challenging Palmer's Battle Tower first, right? If you're too focused on a future battle, you'll end up having more trouble with the battle before it. And Palmer is a trainer you'll want your complete focus on to stand a chance.”

“You didn't tell me you'd faced him before, Reggie,” Paul says, getting a slight chuckle in response.

“Well, this was before I stepped away from battling,” his older brother points out as he rubs the back of his neck, “and I'm certain he's gotten even stronger since then. So watch out.”

“It doesn't matter how strong he is. All that matters is that we beat him.”

“Well, that's certainly one way to think about it,” Reggie says with a sweat drop. “You know, that sounds a lot like something Ash would say, instead of you.”

“Well, if the strongest trainers in the world are going to be competing, then there's no way he'll miss competing in Seishi. I'll get to settle the score with him too.”

“Paul, focus on Palmer first,” Reggie sternly suggests.

“R-Right.”

-----

“Well, Forrest, I hope you've been keeping up with your training on your journey,” a man with dark skin and spiky hair, wearing a white doctor's coat over an orange shirt and brick red pants, says as his squinty eyes over from the letter to the video phone where a similar, if not younger, looking man is being projected to the room full of nine other people – six male and three female – who look virtually identical, save for the differences in hair colour and the hairstyles of the women, and another woman with a fairer complexion and wider eyes who is sitting on the arm rest of a recliner next to the eldest in the room, with wrinkles on his face and dark grey hair.

“Of course I have, Brock …” Forrest starts, “but I'm not sure if I'll compete.”

“What are you talking about?!” Brock says as he jumps out of his seat,  the letter crumpling slightly in his hand. “This is a great honour!”

“Well, it's just, I've been on my journey to find what it is I want to do,” Forrest explains. “I'm not sure if I have that answer yet, and I don't think it's fair for me to represent the Pewter Gym if I'm not committed to being the Gym Leader right now.”

“Well, what do we do?” one of the girls, with her spiky chocolate brown hair pulled back into a shaggy ponytail.

“Personally, I think you should represent the gym, Brock,” Forrest suggests.

“Me?”

“Why not?” the male of the youngest twins, Billy, speaks up. “Forrest took over while you were away, and then when you were studying.”

“Yeah, and you were the one that took over when Forrest left for his journey,” the other twin, Tilly, continues on, tilting her head at the eldest of the Harrison children.

“Not to mention that he went on his journey because you suggested it, dear,” Lola, the mother and the most unique looking person in the room, adds on.

“By all rights, you're still the Pewter Gym Leader,” Forrest finishes.

“Except that you're still the official Leader, in the League's eyes,” Brock retorts to his brother. “We put in that transfer when I went off to study to be a doctor.”

“That won't be a problem,” Flint, the older man and father of the large family, speaks up.

“What do you mean, Dad?”

“If you keep reading, a ruling is that if anyone holding a position with the Pokémon League is unable to compete, they can nominate a substitute if they're deemed to be strong enough,” the Harrison father explains. “It's only been used twice in the three times the Masters League has been held, but it is possible. But even then, we wouldn't need to use that rule.”

“Why not?” Brock asks, his brow furrowing in confusion, along with several of his siblings.

“Why don't you take another look at that envelope, Brock?” his mother suggests. Brock nods and takes up the opened envelope that he left face down on the table in the middle of the room, before turning it over.

“It's addressed to me?” Brock reads, his brow rising as his eyes widen ever so slightly.

“Dad and I put in a request to make you the official Gym Leader while I was away,” Forrest explains.

“You both did that?!” the Pokémon doctor asks, getting a nod from both his father and brother. “And when were you going to tell me?!”

“It wouldn't have changed anything,” Flint defends. “Even without knowing it, you've still ran the gym as if you were official.”

“And you're a far stronger trainer than I am,” Forrest adds on. “I'd much rather have you representing us all than myself.”

“Hmm …” Brock sighs as he sits down, losing himself in thought.

“Well, Brock, what do you say? Are you going to accept the invitation?”

-----

“Hey, Dad, does it say what a trainer has to do to qualify?” a teenage boy with combed pine green hair, wearing an emerald green jacket with a beige undershirt, and grey shorts, asks, glancing over through his glasses at the man sitting down on a blue couch, while he keeps brushing the white fur of the Vigaroth sleeping in front of it.

“Well, Max, trainers don't qualify, in that sense,” the father, a man with short pebble black hair, dressed in a crimson red jacket with a soot black trim, and denim blue jeans, explains, an arm draped across the back of the couch. “The only real way to qualify is to win a conference. Beyond that, it's really down to the committee overseeing the selections for each region.”

“But they must have some way to determine who is the strongest, right?” a woman sitting in a matching blue recliner asks. She's dressed in a sleeveless tangerine tunic with a large folded black collar, a long white stripe down the front and two white pockets on her hips, along with a pair of slim black cycling shorts and a mint green pack strapped round her waist. She also has a pair of white gloves with black fingers and a pair of black wristbands with a green stripe going round, while her bronze brown hair – parted into two tails – is wrapped up in a mint green and snow white bandanna.

“In a way,” he replies. “There are certain conditions that are recommended for trainers to have met.”

“... and they are?” she asks, the two children looking towards their father, the Petalburg City Gym Leader Norman.

“Well, beyond winning a conference, it's recommended you finish within the Top 2 twice in a row, the Top 4 on four consecutive occasions, the Top 8 six times in a row, or the Top 16 on eight consecutive occasions,” Norman explains. “Beyond that, there can be other factors taken into account, such as the amount of conferences you've competed in, the trainers you lost to in a conference, and when you started out.”

“Guess I didn't make the cut then,” Max mopes, his entire posture slumping forwards dejectedly. “I only finished four times in the Top 16, from five conferences, and my best was a Top 8 finish in Kanto and Unova.”

“Well, you could still get in,” his sister says brightly, trying to encourage him. “You've only been in five conferences, remember? And you've been eliminated by a runner up and a winner as well. That could be taken into your consideration.”

“Maybe …” he mumbles, keeping his eyes on the floor and definitely away from Norman, fearing any possible expression that could cross his face. Max jolts up a little as he suddenly feels a hand rest on his shoulder, looking over to see the hand belonging to his sister.

“I'm sure it's just late, 'kay?” she says with a smile and a wink, hiding her other slightly shaking hand hidden behind her back.

“Yeah … Yeah!” Max pipes up cheerfully, his spirits raising by the second. He hums for a second, before pausing and looking over at his father. “Hey, Dad? There's something else I'm not sure about.”

“What is it, Max?”

“Well … I get why you got an invitation, seeing as you're a Gym Leader. But …”

He turns and looks over to the second opened letter in the room, a letter which both his sister and father's eyes are drawn to. A letter that was placed down in front of where his sister had been sitting.

“... do you know why May got an invite as well?”

-----

“It says that they're also considering and inviting coordinators that have fit the same recommendations in Grand Festivals as other strong trainers in Conference Leagues,” a messy orange-red haired woman reads off of a letter, dressed in a magenta woolly jumper with an orange vest over the top, with a faded pair of jeans on her legs. A pair of thin rimmed sunglasses sits atop her head, while around her left wrist is a bubblegum pink Pokétch with a white strap. A Glameow lies on her lap, softly purring away contently as it receives some small scratches from her trainer.

“Huh … I wonder why …” another woman ponders as she looks at her own letter. This one has long royal blue hair tucked within a pearl white beanie with a pink Pokéball print on the front. She wears a black v-neck tank top, with a white shirt underneath, and a pink mini skirt. Wrapped around her right wrist is a thin bracelet, along with a Pokétch on her left wrist identical to her friend's.

“I would guess it has to do with determining what makes a powerful trainer,” a third woman says as she walks in, holding a tray filled with cookies, a steaming tea pot and three tea cups. The third woman, quite a few years older than the other two, though not looking it, has a large round bob of royal blue hair held in place thanks to a red hair clip. She wears a white shirt with long sleeves, with a peach and red apron tied around her waist, and a pair of aegean blue capris underneath.

“Really, mum?” the second of the women asks as the latter sets down the tea set.

“Well, who's to say that a Coordinator can't be a strong trainer?” the mother responds as she starts to pour out cups of tea for the three of them. “In the past, it was kept to trainers who were competing in regional conferences to be invited to the Masters League.”

“But now, they're realising that a Coordinator can be just as strong a trainer as anyone else,” the first woman finishes as she catches on to the mother's point.

“Yeah, but our battles aren't necessarily about just knocking out our opponents,” the second interjects as she takes the cup of tea that's offered to her.

“That just means you have a different battling style to the rest,” the mother replies as she hands off another cup of tea, before taking the last cup and sitting down in a nice plush chair.

“Thanks, Johanna,” the first woman offers with a nod as she takes a sip of the heated aromatic liquid.

“You're welcome, Zoey,” she hums, before returning to the topic of conversation. “You've come across many trainers with different styles, right Dawn?”

“Yeah, like Nando,” Dawn responds brightly, as memories of facing off against the melodic Pokémon Bard come to mind.

“You see?”

“Plus you shouldn't forget Fantina,” Zoey points out. “She was a Top Coordinator before becoming a Gym Leader, and yet she still battles like she's in a Contest.”

“And then there's Wallace, someone who's both a Pokémon Champion and Top Coordinator,” Johanna adds. “Think of it this way, a trainer that takes on the gyms are more likely to focus on the strength of their Pokémon and the power of their moves. A Coordinator on the other hand showcases their Pokémon however they can. That includes utilising and redirecting their opponents moves.”

“Along with also working through different combinations!” Dawn finishes. “Yeah! We are totally going to have this!”

“Calm down, Dawn,” Johanna warns. “That doesn't mean you'll find it any easier. That just means you need to stick to you and your Pokémon's style, just like any other battle.”

“No need to worry, mum,” Dawn comments, brushing off her mother's cautions. “My Pokémon and I will be careful.”

“And what do I do when you tell me not to worry?”

Zoey lets out a good natured chuckle at Johanna's stern remark, along with the sulking pout in response from Dawn. She gives her Glameow another gentle rub, a warm smile crossing her face, before disappearing as a question comes to mind.

“Hey, Johanna? Have you been invited? You are a Top Coordinator, after all.”

“Oh yeah, it would be really cool to see you in action, mum,” Dawn jumps in excitedly.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I haven't received an invitation,” Johanna answers. “Truthfully, the last time I competed was before the last Champions League. They're probably limiting it to results in the last twenty years.”

“Aww …” Dawn expresses with a hint of disappointment, before her appearance suddenly hardens as her eyes dart to the ground.

“Dawn?” Zoey says, noticing her friend's glum look.

“Oh, it's nothing,” she replies, plastering on a wide smile that doesn't seem to reach her eyes. “No need to worry.”

Zoey raises an eyebrow at her remark, which freezes her faux cheeriness. Dawn's fake smile shrinks down to a small curl of her lips, as her flickering eyes stare down at the cup of tea in her hands.

“Right, sorry,” Dawn softly apologises. “I was just wondering if Ash will be there …”

-----

Following in through a hidden winding passage on the southern face of Mt Daybreak in Seishi, a large room opens up from within the craggy walls – a secret hideout for the Gym Leaders, Elite Four, and the Champion of Seishi. The concealed tunnel morphs into a wide space hollowed out from the mountainside, showcasing a fully furnished area that could easily become someone's living space if they so desired. Smooth polished marble coats the floors, small flame lanterns hang from the cracked, craggy walls, while a couple of large globe lights dangle down from the tall ceiling.

In the middle of the chamber is a large fire pit, currently crackling away with a warm blaze, with a wide venting shaft hanging above that funnels any smoke out of the room. Seated around the flames are two large curved white velvet couches – one on the right and one directly opposite on the left – with eight people currently sitting on the furniture. Beyond, the far wall falls away to an open view of a roaring waterfall, with small vapour droplets gently spraying back into the room. Through the opening sunlight cascades in from a cavernous sinkhole, flooding half of the room in a shimmering light that dances against the golden flickering glow of the flames. Off to the right of the lounge area is a large oak dining table with ten chairs placed around it, while beyond that is a fully equipped kitchen, the surfaces sculpted in black slate, bright white quartz and handcrafted mahogany wood.

Seated on the couch on the right is Lillith, the Ice type Gym Leader; a woman with scarlet red hair pulled back into a ponytail, with strands falling around the side of her face. Her legs, clad in a form hugging pair of black pants, are crossed one over the other in front of her, while a big warm furry coat covers her torso.

To her right is Kai, the Fire type Gym Leader. He is currently slumped on the couch, with his lanky form allowing his head to still rest on top the back, allowing his eyes to stare straight up at the ceiling. His messy midnight blue hair cascades over his eyes and draws level with his nose, with little hints of electric blue roots poking through the fringe. He has on a loose white button up t-shirt, though the top three buttons are left undone, with a flame patterned tie hung slack around his neck, and a pair of denim jeans that are torn at the knees.

Beyond him is Sheamus, the Grass type member of the Elite Four, dressed in the same worn outfit that he wore during his meeting with the representatives from the Pokémon League and other regions.

Finally, beside him, is Juliette, the Electric type Gym Leader. Her bushy dark emerald hair gently brushes against the top of her shoulders, while a pair of red rimmed glasses sits delicately on her nose. She has a white lab coat – marred by a few scuff marks and holes towards the bottom – draped over a raven black undershirt, with a pair of baggy black cargo pants to match.

Across from them, on the other couch, sits Duncan, the Normal type Gym Leader. He has short fluffy ashen brown hair, while having a white and light grey striped scarf wrapped round his neck. He also has on a thick brown leather jacket over a steel-grey shirt with a white Pokéball print by his left hip – the last third of the design is cut off by the end of the shirt. Completing his look is a pair of black chinos, held up by a thin belt.

To Duncan's left is the Ghost type Gym Leader, Thane. Hunched over, with his pasty pale arms resting on his knees and holding up his head, a pair of sunken eyes stare out at the room through the curtain of raven black hair cascading down in front of his face. He has on a baggy indigo shirt that has had the sleeves torn off at the shoulders, along with several other small holes and tears pierce the fabric. His jet black pants share the same ragged look, having been frayed, torn and tattered all along the pant-length.

Sitting next to him is Alex, the Gym Leader who specialises in both Rock and Ground types. He has spiky dirty brown hair with a matching short scraggly beard running along his jawline, with a pair of slightly dirty goggles sitting amongst his hair. He's wearing a long sleeved khaki shirt – the sleeves having been rolled up to just below his elbows – and a pair of tawny brown cargo pants, both items slightly dusty, while sitting on the ground in front of him is a very large and seemingly bursting sage green backpack. Currently, Alex's head is down looking towards his hands, holding a pen and a small notepad, as he quickly scrawls across the page.

The final member on the couch is the Water specialist of the Elite Four, and Top Coordinator, Hikaru, humming softly to herself as she kicks her legs out ahead of her. Like Sheamus, she is wearing much the same outfit she did upon meeting the other representatives a couple of weeks ago, though she has also thrown on a sky blue hoodie for good measure.

Standing in between the fire pit and the opening looking out to the waterfall is Raphael, Flying type master and Elite Four member. Unlike his meeting with the other representatives, he has forsaken his black skintight undershirt, showing off his muscular arms. Also, this change in attire also shows off the winding runic and tribal-like tattoo crawling up his left arm, similar in design to the pair adorning Sheamus' bulky arms. In his hand is a clipboard that he keeps sneaking tiny glances to as he reports to everyone in the room, going over the information for the tournament and their responsibilities.

High above everyone else as she climbs up the craggy wall, whilst still vaguely listening to the former Champion, is Bridgette, the Fighting type Gym Leader. Her auburn hair is tied back in a braided ponytail that hangs down between her shoulder blades. A thin black tank top clings to her lean, toned torso, while a matching pair of black sweatpants hugs her powerful legs. Her hands, strapped up and chalked, cling to the handholds she's found as her eyes scan for her next opening to manoeuvre herself even higher than she already is.

Sitting alone at the head of large dining table is Ella, the Fairy type Gym Leader. A pale violet hoodie is wrapped around her, with the hood drawn over her head, though peeking through the front can be seen her pixie cut hairstyle containing a blend of golden blonde, sky blue, and rose pink hair. She also has on a pair of faded jeans, with her hands stuffed inside the pockets of her hoodie. Though she is still listening to Raphael's report, it may not appear so, as instead her eyes are following the Pokémon chasing each other around the outfitted chamber; including a Dedenne, a Flabebe, a Litleo, a Frosslass, an Azurill, and a Pikachu.

Leaning beside the entrance to the chamber with her arms folded across her chest is Jeanne, Steel type specialist and member of the Elite Four, keeping a watchful eye over the entire room, along with sending glances towards the pathway beside her, lest someone unexpected comes in. On her other side leaning against the wall is a large greatsword, nearly as tall as Jeanne herself, unsheathed and untouched, yet within reach. Her long flowing fiery red hair spills down her back. Adorning her torso is a plain black tank top, showing off her muscular arms and the scars that litter them, matched by the long scar carved along her right cheek. However, her legs are completely covered in armour plating, with nary an opening to be seen.

Finally, leaning up against the far wall of the room, with the aperture showcasing the waterfall just to his left, is the Champion of Seishi, Aaron. With the wide brimmed hat still tilted over his right eye, and the left side of his face still covered by his bangs, his cloak has been forsaken, instead showing off his storm grey sleeveless tunic and a large amount of strapping and bandages wrapped around his limp left arm. His right hand, still held within his fingerless gem embedded glove, sits against his waist, with the thumb tucked into the waistband of his cargo pants, and a small thin golden band sits further up on his forearm.

“So, you got us all in here just to tell us it's all sorted?” Duncan sighs as Raphael finishes giving them the details over the completed selection process.

“Not at all,” Raphael replies, “We've also got some other things to do.”

From above them on the wall Bridgette lets out a groan as she throws a hand out to her next handhold. “Really? More work?”

“There are times that we do need to get work done,” Juliette points out.

“You're just saying that because your boyfriend's organising it,” Bridgette retorts with a slight strain as she pulls herself higher, the remark getting a bright red hue to coat the Electric type specialist's cheeks.

“Th-That's not true …”

“Now, now, you'll find out that there are times you'll have other priorities than battling,” Sheamus interjects, reaching out a large comforting hand and placing it very gently on the flustered woman's shoulder, while she fidgets with the hem of her coat. “We knew that when we took up positions with the League.”

“Yeah, yeah …” the athletic Fighting type specialist sighs with a roll of her eyes.

“Don't worry, most of what's left for you is just supervising construction for the stadiums and accommodation,” Raphael mentions.

“Just watching over stuff?” Thane drones, his dark eyes slowly shifting over to Raphael who nods in response.

“Yeah, and making sure they aren't damaging the habitats and the wild Pokémon. It shouldn't be too much of a problem – Jameson Inc is handling the construction process.”

“So what do we do?” Lillith speaks up with a sigh. She, like quite a few others, weren't overly fond of meetings that came down to League business, and was getting pretty bored with the affair.

“Mainly we'll be working in shifts, apart from some stuff that still needs a specialist,” he replies. “Alex, you'll be taking care of the buildings being built into Daybreak.”

“Making sure it's not disrupting the energy levels and the structures?” Alex checks as his pen pauses along his page.

“Bingo,” he answers, Alex nodding and quickly returning to his note taking. “Make sure it won't come caving in. And that we can still sneak our way through to our hideouts and our floor without interference.”

Alex's writing hand pauses again. “… You know that one of those things is a lot easier than the other, right?”

“I'm sure you'll manage,” Raphael says, before glancing at his clipboard. “Hikaru's taking care of the contest stages for the Wallace Cup, which will be held over by the lakefront of Crystdrake Castle.”

If someone had just walked in, they wouldn't have guessed that the energy of the room previously was pretty drained as, with that statement, a chorus of voices bellow out their disapproval, to the complete and utter lack of surprise of the former Champion.

“We can't hold it there!” Bridgette shouts down from above, letting go of the wall with one hand so she can lean over and twist her body to look at Raphael. “It's too important!”

“Agreed,” Thane growls, the volume of his voice staying the same, yet gaining a very dark growl. “We cannot sully the spirits of that place.”

“Not entirely what I meant …”

As some in the group continues voicing their concerns, Raphael looks back to Aaron, silently asking if he'd like to intervene. However, the light mirth dancing in the gaze that darts out from the forest of bangs shrouding his eye, coupled with the slight curl of his lips, seems to communicate to Raphael that the Champion has no intentions whatsoever to bail him out of this mess.

“I agree with Bridgette,” Duncan speaks up. “Even without the sentimental reasons you guys have for protecting it, the lakefront there is central to a lot of Pokémon's lives. You just told us to make sure the construction workers aren't damaging the habitats for the wild Pokémon.”

“But it's perfect,” Hikaru objects as she leaps up to her feet. “A contest is a showcase of magnificence, allure and beauty. The water there is perfect for bringing it out. It's so clean!”

“And what about the Pokémon?” Lillith inquires.

“It's an open stage. We won't be building a full stadium. Open top, looking out onto the natural view, and the castle in the background.”

“A ruined castle …” Kai suddenly speaks up, with a dull tone, as he continues to stare up at the ceiling.

“A slightly damaged castle,” Hikaru retorts. “Besides, it's not that bad. You can't say it doesn't look like a gorgeous sight, right?”

Some murmurs of agreement come from the discontent members of their group.

“The stage will be portable, she continues. “We should be able to float it out and bring it back in easily. Enough room to dig, move around, and it'll open up for water performances.”

“Also, we were going to have some Pokémon help out with a barrier around the stage, just like with some of the stadiums,” Raphael adds on. “So, no wayward attacks will hurt the Pokémon living around there.”

“Are you sure the stage will work?” Alex voices.

“Professor Jones believes it will, based on her research,” Hikaru answers. “We should have the proper measures to make it all function perfectly. I was always going to ask Julie to help me there as well, if that'll ease everyone's concerns.”

Juliette suddenly looks up as the multitude of eyes in the room fall on her. She quickly looks back down at her lap, squirming slightly in her seat, before she shyly glances over to Raphael. “… Will it affect the Starlight Festival?”

Raphael shakes his head. “No. The Starlight Festival should be on the night before. We'll float out the stage the morning afterwards.”

“We checked with the lake Pokémon too, and they're on board with it too.” Hikaru adds on.

Juliette takes a moment before nodding. “Okay … I'll help with the stage.”

Hikaru lets out a cheer and hugs Juliette before returning to her seat.

“Stage aside, I'm still not sure about using the lake and the castle,” Jeanne speaks up, stern eyes looking over the rest of the room.

“I should also point out that I heard Governor Daniels was wanting to hold an event their during the tournament,” Raphael mentions, getting everyone to look back at him. “If what I heard is right, he'll even get an outside organisation to handle the restorations if he needs to. If we say we're using that area for the Wallace Cup, then Jameson Inc can handle the touch ups that's needed, and we'll have one of us there to make sure that only what's needed to be repaired in case an event is held is repaired.”

A few murmurs hum around the room as they converse with one another, before they look over at Jeanne. Her eyes float over each of the gazes looking back at her, before she sighs and closes her eyes. “Guess that sounds good enough.”

“Well, with that out of the way, I'll get to the other specialities. Sheamus will be focused on the accommodation on the edges of Shifmier Forest.”

“Are you sure that's a good idea?” Ella suddenly speaks up, having had stayed silent throughout the entire conversation. Everyone looks over at her, while she keeps her head down, watching the Pokémon who were still running around playing with one another, completely unperturbed by the earlier commotion.

“It should be fine, as long as the workers know what's going on and the trainers are told to stay near the tree line,” Sheamus speaks up. “My friends should be wandering through, too.”

“Plus the Protectors could also be on hand to keep an eye on things. Right, Jeanne?” Raphael says, looking across the room at his fellow Elite Four member.

“We could maybe spare a patrol or two over there.”

“Thank ye', lass,” Sheamus thanks with an incline of his head. “It would be a great help.”

Jeanne gives him a small nod in response before turning her head away with a small huff, appearing to an untrained eye to still be keeping an eye on the entrance for any possible intruders. Raphael lets a small smirk cross his lips before he glances back down at his clipboard.

“Finally, I'll be keeping an eye on the construction for the Tyrant's Maw.”

“Sky Battles?” Thane inquires.

“Sky Battles,” Raphael confirms with a nod.

“And what are the rest of us doing?” Duncan asks.

“Jeanne and Aaron will be working on getting the Protectors organised for the tournament, and will be coordinating with our Officer Jennys. The rest of you will be rotating through on different shifts,” Raphael explains. “Mainly, you're just making sure things are going on track. Really, the League just wants to make sure a representative with a position is present, and we'd like to make sure our land is as untouched as possible. Professor Jones is also going to be on call if any complications arise.”

“So, what's going to be happening with the gym challengers?” Lillith questions.

“The Nurse Joys have been asked to direct all new challengers to you first, Lillith. You tend to be the one that gets challenged the most by first timers, so it makes sense. Any of our Nurse Joys will let you know when a new challenger has registered, and when they should get there. From there, we ask that they then notify which gym they'll challenge next. Any expected battles will be worked into the flexible shift rotations.”

An annoyed groan comes from up above, and the group look up as Bridgette lets go of the wall and falls down, landing in a crouch. She then springs back up and claps her hands together, dusting the air in front of her with a cloud of chalk. “Supervising is so boring … Why can't those new challengers come face me first?”

Bridgette moves over to Lillith as she unwraps the strapping on her hands and wrists, before leaning on the couch behind the Ice type Gym Leader.

“Hey Lil'? Wanna battle?” she challenges. “Whoever wins gets any new challengers first.”

Lillith lets out a warm chuckle and stretches her arms out above her head, before placing both hands behind her head and leaning back into them. “Dunno, Bridge, Raph's the one who made all this up. Best you challenge him instead.”

“Come on, I'm not going to beat him!”

“If you're that desperate to do something else, you can help out with the paperwork that needs doing,” Raphael offers with a smirk, getting a frustrated look in response from Bridgette.

“… Supervision it is.” she grumbles, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her face with a puff of air.

“Good. Anything other problems?”

His question is met with silence, so Raphael turns around to look at Aaron.

“Anything you want to add, Champ?” Raphael checks, Aaron silently shaking his head in response. “Alright then. Let's get this done, guys.” 

-----

AN: So, there we go. A lot of information to be taken in, I'm sure.

Firstly, the list. I'll put it in order that I'd probably have them faced in, if this was a game. It will include name, type specialty, and age.

Gym Leaders:

Lillith - Ice type - 30

Alex - Rock/Ground type (yep, I'm going with a dual type specialist) - 28

Juliette - Electric type - 27

Duncan - Normal type - 26

Thane - Ghost type - 36

Bridgette - Fighting type - 24

Kai - Fire type - 27

Ella - Fairy type - 22

Elite Four and Champion:

Sheamus - Grass type - 44

Hikaru - Water type - 24

Jeanne - Steel type - 26

Raphael - Flying type - 29

Aaron - Various types - 25

So, beyond that, that's pretty much all I think I need to say. Next chapter should be people arriving in Seishi, which will be after a couple of months or so. Unless I decide I need to cover anything in between then. 

Until next time, adios!

[eerythingisshaka]

Will the Bell Ring?  Pt. 5

[Erik Killmonger x Black OC]

Word Count 5.3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

The speed in which Kimara peeled out of the parking lot of the Korean BBQ place gave any witness whiplash as she channeled her anger through the accelerator.  Kimara cursed out the air and any driver in her way as she rode around the streets of midtown.  It’s a damn miracle no cops were around to pull her over or they would’ve caught some serious heat from her their damn self.  Not long after running her fifth yellow light turning red, Kimara began to feel her tears well over profusely.  Her whole body shook as the sobs came more powerfully and she couldn’t control the car properly anymore.  

Pulling over, Kimara puts her car in park as she lays onto the wheel causing it to honk one time before she unloads her emotions completely.  This isn’t what she expected, which is an outcome that is actually more common throughout this fertility process than she’d care to look back on.  She’s exhausted with all the waiting and trying and disappointment, Kimara just wants an answer or some quick fix that’ll give her what she needs.

*knock knock*

Kimara jumps at the sharp sound on her passenger side window, breathing out with relief once she recognizes the kind face.

“T’Challa!  What are you doing here?”  She sniffles as he opens the door to sit inside looking at her with pity.

“It’s not so taboo to be here shopping around as it is to sit in a car and cry.” He quips.

Kimara chuckles gruffly before getting caught with a hiccup from her weeping.  “I don’t do this all the time, I swear.”

T’Challa studies your face appearing suspicious.  “Are you…”

She stares at him trying to catch on until she rolls her eyes.  “Not every emotional moment with a woman is attributable to hormones man, damn!  I’m not pregnant, not on my period.  I’m just dealing with fuckboy bullshit.”

T’Challa melts in his seat with embarrassment.  Just two minutes with her and he’s already regretting making his presence known.  “How are things with Erik?”

“Terrible.”  Kimara mutters.

“Elaborate.”

She wipes her face, crossing her arms.  “You know he can be such a damn idiot sometimes.”

“Specifically?”  T’Challa draws out.

Kimara tuts at him, throwing up her hands.  “I thought you didn’t want details on our shit.  TMI and whatever.”

“I want details on what is going on with you.  Good or bad.”  T’Challa says softly, waiting patiently for her response.  

Kimara drops her attitude, playing with her nails anxiously.  “I had a doctor’s appointment today with Erik.  Nothing’s wrong with him.”

“That is good, right?”  

She lays back on the headrest, looking out the window.  “It is, health is always good.  Just...what else could it be now?  I thought that would give me my answer.”

“Does Erik know you are here?”

Kimara shakes her head.  “I left him at a Korean spot.  He was picking up his car anyway but I was tired of him too.”

“Did you like that place?”  T’Challa voice rises an octave in anticipation.

She nods, smirking.  “It was very nice.  Erik told me you picked it.”  Kimara looks over at T’Challa.  “Thank you for having good taste.”

T’Challa smiles softly.  “It is not something one can learn, I told you.”

Kimara tuts at him before looking away wordlessly.

“But why are you crying alone from your husband?”

“I don’t know.  I’m regretting what I said, or at least how I said it.  But Erik started off blaming the doctor and not taking the positive notes she gave us.  The whole appointment it was like he was stewing, ready for a fight or something.  I don’t know what came over him then but he flipped out.”

“That may be his way of accepting the news himself.  He is probably just as over the process as you are.”  T’Challa says.

“I know, I know.  But it’s like...what does he know?  How can he come in here blaming anybody for this when he’s barely wanted to follow instructions on how to better our chances.  He flip flops so much, then there’s work.  I’ve seen him act like this before.  When he wants something, he goes for it.  But this?  He’s in a whole other world. And I’m this close to done, I cant take his childish behavior anymore.”

“Have you told him?”

“No, this just happened.”

“I mean from before.  Your shame: did you tell him?”

Kimara goes quiet.  That said everything.

“Kimara-”

“I know!  I should.  But this isn’t the time.  Not when we’re rocky like this.”

T’Challa grows impatient with her.  “It has to be now!  You are not over that time in life and if he does not know you are harboring, your emotional duress appears out of the blue.  He will feel attacked.”

“Well he should!  I gave up a huge part of me for him and I don’t know if he could do the same.  He hasn’t proven that yet!”  

T’Challa grabs Kimara’s hand.  “Give him a little credit for what he’s been through.  Look.  Until you talk with him this is all speculative.”

“Well I have a right.”

“Do not be stubborn.  Remember this situation before?  I knew where Erik was, but you were not ready to let go of your anger to let clarity come through.  You must seek him out on this, be truthful.  If you do not, I cannot see this ending well, Bast forbid.”

Kimara holds his hand tightly before resting in his shoulder.  “I remember...I get that.  I don’t wanna leave him like that.  He doesn’t deserve that if he doesn’t know.  I’ll...trust the process.”

T’challa nods.  “That sounds familiar.  So you were listening to me.  You are a special woman, I just hate to see you go through this without all of the facts being known on his side.  The only way I can comfort you is because I know everything.  Whether I like it or not.”

They chuckle a moment as they held it together quietly, grazing their knuckles in small circles with their thumbs.  Kimara remember a lot about those times when Erik recovered from his combat brainwashing, how much coaxing it took T’Challa to see him through a new lens.  T’Challa never let Kimara down.  His word is always his truth and she appreciated that.  She didn’t give it a serious thought until just now.

T’Challa kisses the top of her head with a small peck, making her look up at him with a faint smile.  His eyes draw her into the features of his face, different from Erik’s but just as handsome.  She felt a dip in the pit of her stomach as her eyes fell over the bow of his top lip-

*brrrring!  brrrrring!*

Kimara’s phone breaks the trance as she nearly hops out of herself to stop the maddening noise.

“Hey Erik?  Yeah, I’m just over by the shops on 48th?  I needed some...I know…..It’s ok, really.  We’ll talk when I get home, don’t worry.  I’ll be there soon.  Love you too.”

She hangs up, growing timid.  “Sooo if you’re good I’m gonna head home.  Talk to this boy about stuff.”

T’Challa has his elbow on the passenger window, balling his fist up but with a calm expression.  His face reads a multitude of words just hanging from the cliff of his mind but his jaw is too tight to speak them.

“T’Challa?”

He nods, snapping out of his mind to give a tight smile.  “Of course.  Drive safely.”

--

Erik’s been working with his team at Boeing for a few weeks now trying to get some ideas off the ground.  He prides himself on being a superstar of the company, earning them easily millions and it’s all lightwork for his IQ.  But they were turning more commercial driven, and that doesn’t vibe with him.  And now that he works with Bryan, being the son of his boss, his wings are nubs at this point.

“Listen.  We have competition out there that are able to carry more passengers on longer flights.  We gotta keep up or we will be left in the dust!”  Edward exclaims.

Erik rubs his eyes as he leans back in the conference room chair.  “I’m not going rounds with you over this.  That’s the last thing we need to be focusing on right now.”

“Profits?  Profitability is never last Erik, it scares me how often I have to remind you of that.”

“Hey guys?”  Bryan says.

Erik tunes him out.  “When profit hunting cuts into innovation, TRUE innovation, that betters the product in the long run and sets an example for others in the industry, we fail!  And in your case we already are!  The Russians landed on the moon first bruh!”

“Guys!”  Bryan interjects.

Edward holds up a finger.  “One second son.  Listen here, I’ve been in this business for 30 years now, you think-”

“I think your father shoulda taught you better than this, yeah.”  Erik quips.

“GUYS!  I have a fucking idea, can you stop to hear it?”

Erik and Edward fume, looking at one another before going back to their respective corners.

“Sure son, and please speak with common sense.”  Edward says rolling his eyes as he sips some bourbon.

“How about we just knock out on engine on each side of the aircraft, so that gives room for the extra passenger space to be added?”

Erik’s face screws up “BOY THAT’S THE DUMBEST-”

Edward stops Erik.  “Hang on.  There are no wrong answers here.  Keep talking, what do you mean by that?”

Erik is incredulous.  “There are literally very wrong answers that can be given when discussing the composition of an aircraft!”

Bryan clears his throat.  “Well, of course we have to map out the logistics of it all.  But that’s the difference between us and our competitors.  They have constructed their aircrafts to be able to accommodate the extra passenger space by having the bodymore elevated from the ground.  The only thing blocking ours is the extra engines.”

“There are so many things wrong with what you just said, it’s hilarious honestly.  But you have a good time figuring it out.”  Erik gets up to leave.

“Oh actually, if you have space in your schedule, we need you to help with this one.  I really wanna get the ball rolling on this so we can be prepared to roll out by next spring at the latest.”

“Why the fuck would I work on something that ain’t my damn idea?  Your boy said it, let him handle it.  I don’t need no credit for this.”

Edward scoffs.  “That’s fine.  You can do the work and get none of the credit.  How’s that?”

“What?”

He pats Erik’s shoulder.  “We have a father son golf tournament we wanna get some practice in for anyhow.  Erik, I trust you.  You’re my most senior person in this department, and at your age, that is incredible.  I’d love to see you running this place one day, but to do that, you have-”

“I don’t like sports, I don’t do teams, and the only player I am has nothing to do with this company.”

Edward smiles amused at Erik’s tenacity.  “That is good!  I love that enthusiasm.  So I need something, anything crossing my office floor by month’s end or you know, we’ll talk.”

“That’s some bullshit, you know it.”

“Oh, don’t worry.  I did get you some help to soften the blow.  They should be waiting in your office.”

Erik rolls his eyes.  If he has to see one more white person giving him orders, he was gonna make the 5 o’clock news in no time.  He makes his way down the hall and around the corner to trudge his way to his office, checking his pockets for his phone.  He sees a text from Kimara and starts to open it as he walks in.

“Well how you, handsome?”

Erik’s feet make tracks on the tiles as he screeches to a halt.  Looking up he starts to turn warm, eyes widening as he catches a glimpse of a familiar figure.  

“My, my.  I guess you do recognize me.  I’m a lot different outside my work clothes.”  She says, rubbing the back of her neck as she clutches her leather satchel.  She does look a lot different than their first encounter, but the curves can’t hide under her tailor navy blazer with gold piping along the collar and sides, with matching pencil skirt to boot.  The only thing that didn’t change is the heels, that had to be flirting with workplace dress code etiquette for height.

Erik tucks his phone in his pocket.  “Uh, you, uh…Chanel, right?”

She rolls her eyes, fighting an embarrassed smile.  “Whatever I told you that night was a lie.  I never tell dudes I barely know my real name.  It’s Alaina.”

Erik walks across the way offering a hand.  “You didn’t seem too bothered with me being a stranger though.”

She shakes his hand firmly, still smiling slyly.  “Well, that was then.  And I was off the clock.  I can’t be held responsible for what happens after hours.”

“Mhm, if I wasn’t with my boy, you would’ve given me some trouble.  That wasn’t a meat market ma’am, I wasn’t lookin to cut either.”

She raises her hands.  “Hey, I get it.  Especially now.  You have my word I will behave myself.  God blockedt it!”

Erik takes a seat behind his desk as Alaina sits in the chair across from him.  “So you are the secret weapon to getting this bullshit idea off the ground, huh?”

Alaina shrugs.  “I’m here to get a paycheck and possibly a promotion.  I’m here on contract, I gotta make my moves while I can.”

“Ok, that’s cool.  It’s funny how he got all the Black folks working this together for him, but I won’t get into that today.”

She rubs her forehead.  “Please, refrain.  I don’t need a lecture on corporate politics from Brother Erik today.”

Erik chuckles, impressed with her wittiness.  Chanel, or Alaina, was more than just a fat ass in some FashionNova, but a brain on top to boot.  

“You right  Listen, Edward got you here close to my clock out time, so I was gonna go to my bar spot up the street, let off some steam.”

“The Magnolia?  Ooh, I love their martinis at happy hour!”

“And it just started too.”  Erik pulls out his keys and gets up to leave.  “So that’s where I’m headed.  We can pick this up tomorrow, if you not up for martinis.”

“When am I not up for a martini, is the real question.  One drink can’t hurt, I’ll treat you.  And don’t worry about what I said earlier.  I’ll be on my best behavior after hours too.”

--

Kimara comes home to the house dark and empty yet again.  Erik has been taking a lot of time to work after hours and it’s been killing her vibe lately.  When she comes home from the studio, she’d love to see her man welcome her home, but he hasn’t been available.

Phone calls from the fertility specialist urging her to start considering IVF as an option is stressing her out.  Erik isn’t getting the calls, nor is he there when they come.  The most he can give is a hurried, ‘oh what’d they say?  What you wanna do then?  Look I gotta go!’

Kimara was not keen on even thinking about trying to get fertility treatments yet.  One day she invited Lia over, a friend she’s gained from her recent sessions at the studio.  

Over a bottle of wine and junk food, Kimara opened up about her situation as of lately.  It’s hard to avoid as a topic since it’s been consuming her all this time.  

“Sheesh, it’s been that long?”  She exclaims taking a strong sip of her glass.

Kimara nods emphatically.  “I wish I was lying but yeah.  We are closing in on a year pretty soon, and I’m not getting any younger, so I may have to look into this pretty soon.  It’s not like we are having a whole lot of sex these days anyway.  He’s at work constantly.”

“Girl, fix that ASAP!  Nothing makes me more jaded than not busting one every so often.”

“No one said I wasn’t busting, I would like to have my man in on it too, every once in a while.  I need a new charge cord for my shit now!”

Lia guffaws.  “So who’s ignoring who though in this situation?  I know he can’t resist our fine ass.”

Kimara scratches her head.  “Well…”

“Oh!  Now we don’t have much to say!”

“I mean!  He comes in late as hell.  I’m in my bonnet, got on my mask, knee deep in Blue Bell watching my shows when he comes in.  By the time I’m in bed and he takes a shower, he tries to get handsy.  But I don’t wanna just be devoured and tossed aside, I want some damn communication!”

“Well at least you know he wants it still.”

“Yeah yeah, but when I call him on the bullshit he turns his ass back over real quick.  He won’t talk to me and I’m getting so damn tired of trying.”

Lia looks at her phone.  “Shit, I gotta go girl.  The sitter won’t hesitate to charge me extra for being late.  But girl, just take some deep breaths.”

Kimara does.  “Will air give me a baby and my hot and horny relationship back?”

“No but it’ll give some blood flow to that crowded ass brain of yours so you don't get to talking foolish.”

Kimara hugs her and walks her out the door when she sees some headlights pull into the driveway.  Lia looks back.

“Be nice, but stand your ground.”  She winks before walking on, waving wildly at Erik’s car.  He waves back nonchalantly as he walks in after you.

“Who was that?”   Erik asks.

“A friend from the studio.  Just keeping me company.”  You say, discarding you glasses.

Erik tosses his keys on the counter, taking his shoes off.  

“You want something to eat?”  You ask at the kitchen sink.

“Nah, you good.  I already ate.”

“This late?  So work came with dinner today?”

“You could say that.”  Erik sas in a monotone as he takes his jacket off.

Kimara stans there tapping her foot impatiently.  “Well, what do you say?”

“...you forgot to clean the dishes again?”

“Erik!”

He laughs.  “I’m just kidding!  Damn, how’s your day?  Love you.  Thanks for everything.  I’m takin a shower.”He kisses a fuming Kimara quickly sensing his job being done.

Erik heads upstairs to the master bathroom as she loads the dishwasher, which has become like a part time job for her.  Erik used to try and pull doing the ‘traditional’ household tasks mess on her.  But Kimara snapped him up quick with some facts, ultimatums, and peppered threats to get her point across that that was not how things would go down.  But he’s fallen off the wagon this month.  Kimara sets the washer on and rinses her hands with fury before bounding up stairs.  She hears the water running and open the door.  Erik’s silhouette is frosted and murky behind the foggy glass of the shower door.  The scent of his body wash fills her nostrils, lighting up her senses.  Kimara loves the soap he uses and can’t resist when he’s cleaned up to get him dirty all over again.  But like she told Lia, she hasn’t been in the mood as of late he didn’t earn that ass yet.  

Kimara sits on the toilet lid.  “Erik, what’s been going on?”

Erik opens the door a crack and peeks his head out, sudsy bubbles speckle his skin as he grins.  “Yo, what’s it look like I’m doin?  You tryna join me?”

She shakes her head.  “I wanna know where my husband has been spending his time.”  

Erik’s smile fades as he closes the door again talking over the water.  “I haven’t done nothing but work.  And trust me, I don’t like it no more than you.”

Kimara makes face of frustration.  “So what changed?  This isn’t normal for you still.”

“I mean...there’s nothing to talk about now, but I got this project on my head that had a strict deadline and me and this partner have just been…..you know, hammering it out.”

Kimara sighs.  “It’s not the same not having you here.  I don’t like it, it’s not fair to me.”

Erik shuts off the shower, getting out with his body glistening wet and clean, grabbing a towel across the way to dry off.  “I ain’t no fan either, but I’m tryna do some big things here that will hopefully make some history and that takes a lotta time and energy.”

“So does a relationship!  I been having dinner by myself, sleeping by myself.  I get calls from the doctor asking for us when there is no US to consider.”

Erik peaks from behind the towel on his face. “Hey hey!  We still us, don’t trip!  Like I said, I-”

“BUSY!  Sure Erik, whatever fits your conscience.  This project better have a break time, cuz WE have things to do too, remember?  So you and your boy, whoever your project partner is are gonna have to work something out.”

Erik wraps his towel around his waist before kneeling in front of Kimara.  “I know you think I forgot but I haven’t.”

Kimara’s eyes shift from him.  “What?”

Erik smirks.  “Now you gonna hurt my feelings if you forgot.  Tomorrow…..our anniversary?”

Kimara tears well up instantly.  Of course she thought he had forgotten.  He hasn’t said a damn thing leading up to today, what else would she think.

“I don’t want you crying on the happiest day of my life, you hear me?  We in that year three, third times the charm right?”

Kimara really starts to ugly cry now.  “Why you makin me cry if you don’t want me too?”

Erik kisses her hands.  “You are my life.  My one, my baby.   One thing we learned together no matter how far I go, we come back together as one, you know?”

Kimara sniffles, leaning her forehead against Erik’s thinking over their years together.  That statement didn’t always ring true to her, but in a small way he has been right.

“No decision I make goes without thinking of you, our family.  I got us reservations tomorrow, and tickets to that comic you love on the Boulevard.  We got the whole day to do what we wanna do, don’t trip.”

“Don’t scare me like this.”  Kimara says with an exhausted tone.  “Even for surprises, don’t.”

Erik’s eyes met hers.  “Nothing is keeping me from you.  Tomorrow let’s make that appointment with the doctor too.  I’m feeling pretty lucky right now, we are gonna get our shot.”

“You feelin lucky to get lucky?”  Kimara says stifling a laugh.

Erik pulls her closer to him by her hips.  “No lottery better in the world.”

They kissed sweetly at first, feeling a familiar urge that makes her legs tighten up.  Kimara pulls away first.  “I thought about something you said though before, about a different doctor.  My friend knows a fertility specialist that may be worth looking into, maybe we can them next.”

Erik nods, looking lost in her face, running his thumb along her cheek.  “Sure, I’m up for whatever.”

“Also, while you been busy, I’ve been looking at spots for a vacation.  I’m; narrowing it down to the DR, PR, Turks and Caicos, or Belize.”

Erik buries his face in her chest, kissing the softness of her skin.  “I trust your judgement.”

Kimara defends herself against his ticklish lips.  “But I want your opinion too!  And since things been going good with T’Challa and his lady, they should join us officially.  We can have dinner with them next week to get acquainted and start talking about it.”

“Ok!  You gonna help me cook?”

Erik scoffs.  “Who said that?  We cookin now?  Why don’t we do like them damn Koreans and just say bring your meat and here’s the stove. Ge to it!”

She rolls her eyes.  “I’m am so sick and damn tired of that smart mouth of yours.”

He cocks an eyebrow, giving your thighs a squeeze.  “It knows what to do when you need it to.”

“Oh?”

They smile into each others mouth as their lips come together in an embrace.  Kimara’s hands play in Erik’s locs, carefully rubbing his scalp as he moans under the sensation.  Her knees rub around him causing his towel to fall.  

Erik picks her up, kissing at her neck with neediness.  “I know you not tryna fuck on this toilet?”

Kimara sighs erotically rolling her head back to take in his mouth.  “Like I give a shit where I get it right now…”

Eight Years Ago

Kimara sits in the studio after hours, playing around with the keys on a keyboard.  The day was done but she had plans to meet with someone so she was just biding her time.  In the distance she could hear the bells jingle on the front door of the studio as someone walks in.  She checks her phone for an ‘on the way’ text but there is none, and curses herself for forgetting to lock the door.  

She slowly comes out from the back room.  “Uh, sorry but we’re clo-”

The jean jacket he loves, little locs bound atop his head, and a pair of broad shoulders hunched looking through framed photos of musicians spanning decades in a display case told Kimara all she needed to know for identification.  Her heart lurches into her throat, cutting off her breath to produce sound as Erik slowly turns to look at her.

“Wassup?”  He says with a casual grin.  

“H-hey.  How did you-”

“Find you?”  She shakes his head looking back at the photos.  “It ain’t that hard to figure out.  Not as hard as getting to Wakanda to see me I guess.”

Kimara folds her arms walking slowly towards him.  “Erik, I couldn’t go all the way over there.  For what?  Your cousin told me you were safe, and frankly that’s all I was worried about.”

He nods, turning to face you with his hands in his pockets.  You take a deep breath looking him over.  Still as big as ever, and looking good to have gone through and done all T’Challa told her happened in Wakanda.  And in a small way his eyes seemed different and familiar, not like the night he left.  But like the friend she once knew.

“I’m glad he filled you in on that.  Yeah, it took a lotta counselling with my demons, but...I figured out what I needed to let go and change for the better.”

“Good.  I’m glad, really.”  Silence comes between the both of them.  Him just standing there looking at Kimara made her feel shy all of a sudden.  She thought about this day often: what she would say or do if she caught him out here after all he put her through on her own.  But now that spirit just isn’t in her.  She felt stagnate, like her whole system shut down and is preparing for a reboot.

“How have you been?”  He asks, scratching his beard humbly as his eyes drop a second from her face.  “You look nice by the way.”

Kimara shrugs.  “I haven’t been up to much recently.  I teach music to school kids and...since you found me here maybe you heard I do backup for artists sometimes.”

Erik shakes his head.  “Nah, I hadn’t heard that actually.  Congratulations!  You deserve that, your talent is outta this world, Mara.”

She gives him a weak smile.  “And we’re closed now,so I mean if you want to meet up another time, I gotta-”

“Did you miss me?”  Erik asks.

Kimara stammers.  “Uh…”

Erik leans on the case hanging his head low.  “I know I shouldn’t have come by your place that night.  I don’t know what has gotten into me but I promise you I hadn’t planned for any of it.”

“I know that now.  You came to me confused and left me just as such.  I thought you were staying with me.”

“I know, and I was.  I just wasn’t ready-”

“To be a man? To be grown enough to take responsibility head on?”

Erik shrugs looking slightly bewildered.  “Possibly, I don’t know!  I didn’t want to hurt you and leave you without me seeing you one more time but that night made it even harder for me to want to go.”

“Then why did you?  Why did my body become your test of ‘should I stay or should I go?’  You were planning to leave regardless, you just said!  So why weren’t you upfront with me?!”

“Because I love you and didn’t want you to get hurt!”

“But you hurt me Erik!  You did!  You came over feeling big and bold, I softened you up but a minute before you peaced out on me.  Like that shit didn’t matter?  Like that’s even something we did before.”

Erik’s eye hang low.  “I didn’t mean for the first to be the last.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the sex Erik.  I was just another in a line of females you wouldn’t look twice at.  You ain’t my first to do that, I don’t give a shit.  But if you weren’t interested in being my man, you could’ve at least been my friend and thought for one second how leaving to do a homicide suicide mission with who knows and where and leaving me high and dry!  I was a MESS!  I was inconsolable, Erik we practically grew up together and you just that easily forgot what all that shit meant?”

Erik shakes his head emphatically, walking slowly over to her with outstretched hands.  “Mara I’m sorry.”

Kimara gulps for air between sobs, feeling herself go weak.  “No!  Don’t do that.  I’m sick of you.”

Erik wipes his face eyes turning red, looking sorrowful.   “I been sick of my damn self.”

Kimara grabs Erik by the collar of his jacket.  “I’m so sick of you bringing this tye of shit outta me.  I was over you, I swear I was.”

Erik’s arms wrap around Kimara tightly as she burrows her face into his chest.  They shake with emotion together, swaying side to side and letting go on one another.  Kimara hugs Erik as tightly as she can, feeling rubbing his back, caressing his head to make sure he isn’t a dream.  But it’s real.  Erik’s hads travel the length of your back before finding either side of your face to pull your gaze to his.

“I won’t put that pressure on you again.  I’m not leaving your side either.  I don’t even care if you got a nigga, I got your back when he fuck up.”

Kimara makes a noise that’s a combo of a sob and a laugh while holding the back of his hands in his.  “You still a damn fool.”

When Erik’s eyes meet Kimara’s, there’s an energy that kept accelerating, building between the two of them.  It was tortuous, almost irritating how lonely her lips felt when she looked at his, and Erik definitely felt the same.  

God’s hand seemed to keep twirling around their heads, bringing them closer bit by bit until their mouths met.  Kimara’s body felt like a whole piece again once connected with his.  She had found a peaceful existence without him but she had no clue she missed him so much until he was right in front of him.  

When they parted for air Kimara rested her forehead on his chin.  “Erik, I can’t just jump into this.  I’m still not there.”

Erik pats her head gently.  “Mara, I ain’t worried bout that.  You here, I’m here.  I don’t need nothing else.  Imma work on my situation, get myself stable.  And you just live your life like you was.  Just this time you can call me.  For whatever.”

Kimara hugs Erik tightly, breathing him in when she feels a vibration in her back pocket.  

“Sorry, hang on.”  Kimara reaches for it, looking to see T’Challa’s name flashing as an incoming call.  She declines it, texting him back to cancel their night together.

Part 6

Masterlist

Ragtag

@chaneajoyyy @sarcastic-sunshines @muse-of-mbaku@dameshaemonique  @fonville-designs@destinio1@bakarisangel@wakanda-inspired@klaine15689 @savageiz@nickidub718@yoyolovesbucky @alexundefined @forbeautyandlife@bakarisangel

[razorblade180]

OC test:Memory lane

Each person is placed in a room with two locks on it. One will be opened by sharing a precious memory, while the other gets unlocked by a sad one. No tricks or gimmicks to get out.

Yujin:Well this is an interesting test; making people open up just to get through a door. I might as well start with the hard part then. When I was nine I ended up getting a fight at school on my birthday. Me being basically motherless was no secret to anyone and always made things awkward. A presentation on the huntsman of our choice was due that day so naturally I chose my dad; it was a no brainer. Most kids chose their parents or a legendary huntsman from our history books. So when one of my classmates did his entire project Yang it caught me off guard.

Yujin:For what had to have been only ten minutes, I sat and listened to him do nothing but praise her; going into detail about how she’s one of the best. Telling the entire class that she’ll be there to help no matter what. Without warning I stood up and started yelling at him; telling him how wrong he was. “She can’t be around to help her own kid! How could anyone consider her the best?” What really made me lose it was his response. “Maybe she has more important things to do?” Looking back, I don’t remember those words holding any malice. That didn’t stop me from breaking his nose right then and there. *tensing up*

Yujin:When I say dad was mad, he was furious. We must’ve yelled back and forth for hours when we got home. To the point my voice started to give out a little; whinnying about how he could still possibly love a woman like her. Trying to convince him that she would never come back to us, to him. It must’ve worked for a second because the shouting stopped. My bratty self thought I’d finally won the argument; all I did was make him cry. The man that has done so much to fill the void; the one I dedicated an entire presentation to. Was crying because I tried smothering what little hope he must’ve had left. *sniffling* I hugged him tight without a second thought and sobbed as I apologized. That was the day everything sort of changed for me; the day I realized I hated mom.

*one lock snaps off*

Yujin:*shaking her head* Okay, time for the happy stuff! I don’t even have to think hard about this one! There’s a convention that happens every year that always has amazing things for aspiring huntsman and awesome guests on panels. When I was 11 I was super excited that I finally got a chance to go and it just so happened that year my absolute favorite up and coming huntress was attending! Her name is Lilith and she’s just, everything. People compare her to Pyrrha Nikos since she’s such a prodigy and winner of multiple regional tournaments. I’m like two years younger than her and just admire her personality. If I had to pick a role model around my age it’s definitely her.

Yujin:Anyways, I unfortunately caught the flu the day of the convention and had to miss it. The entire time I was in bed snotty and crying over it until Tenzen sent me a video. That joker never once mentioned to me that he got invited to the convention because of his rising internet fame, so when I saw that he sent me a video with Lilith wishing me a speedy recovery I actually almost died. Not only that, he got her to sign some merchandise for me with personal messages. That alone was enough for me but afterwards he came over and told me he recently unlocked his semblance. Tenzen managed to convince my dad to let me out the house that night and I got to experience just how fast he could run at the time; felt almost like a roller coaster. I swear that boy never ceases to amaze me. *blushing* To this day he’s always looking for me and trying to get me to smile.

*second lock snaps off and she walks through slowly.*

Tenzen:Bad memory? Well I can’t pick a specific event but I can easily choose a time period; the first four years following the attack on my parents. My mom bounced back physically from it in almost no time at all but my father.... his damage was all but completely crippling. A lot of broken bones, bruised organs, and broken back. He couldn’t do work anything to the fullest anymore so he just....shut down. There were days I didn’t even see him because didn’t get out of bed. Worst part of it all was I could tell how bad he wanted to not feel the way he did but couldn’t. It tore my mom apart to feel so useless and it’s pretty rough for me to see both of them just exhausted; maybe that’s why I try staying positive and hopeful. Trying to make up for years five to nine. Thankfully things got better which I guess brings me to my happy memory.

Tenzen:One day there was a dancing contest in Vale with a cash prize. Thought I’d help pay for some medical bills so I got to practicing in secret. I came in first place surprisingly and immediately rushed back home to surprise them. I didn’t expect him to ask me to perform it so I was a bit taken back at first. *chuckles* both of their jaws dropped when they saw me do their dance routine from their time at Beacon. The rest of the day was just filled with different music and cheers as I treated them to a live concert basically. After that things just slowly started changing; I got more serious with dancing and also started training. Who would’ve thought an old dance routine was the answer to making my dad feel like himself again.

*both locks snap off easily and he walks through happily*

Jacquelyn:Oooo so I have to tell a story to get out? No problem, a lot about me has been shared already but there’s definitely some good highlights that haven’t been really explored. *blushing* This is gonna sound really cheesy but I think one of my best memories is Adam saying he loved me. It was a couple years after Salem had been beaten. During that time I still had wavering beliefs if he’d actually stick with being reformed; there certainly was time where it almost felt progress was about to slip away. However, after a certain incident happened and the arrival of Jael all that anxiety melted away. I can still remember his smile when he held her close and told me. After that I knew he’d be okay; that we will be okay. Bad memories are easy. Becoming a maiden and the destruction of my home.

*door opens and she calmly walks through without a second thought*

Sienna:Getting adopted is by far the happiest memory I have. I finally felt safe in Jacquelyn and Adam’s arms after where they found me. *ears fold down* the time I spent before that was very.......

Her face goes cold as her mouth dries out. She just slowly starts nodding and thinking; almost like she’s entered a trance.

Sienna:Painful, it was very painful both physically and mentally. C...can I go now please?

*the locks pop off and she exits the room; still a bit shaken up.*

Jael:Happiest memory is perfecting my version of the moon slice. Dad wouldn’t teach me so mom taught me in secret. Not really the most touching thing I suppose but it just makes me feel closer to him somehow. Even though he still doesn’t know. I have my fair share of bad memories too though. If I had to pick one... it would be the day I realized just how bad my heart condition really was. I always thought the major drawback was hindering my physical performance in anything I do; I was wrong. There’s this girl back where I live that I’ve known about two years now. She’s the only person who’s not afraid to speak to me that’s my age. Actually, she’s one of the only people that speak to me at all. We’ve gotten close, really close...*blushing*. It’s pretty obvious that I like her but it’s not healthy for me to be around her too long. My heart literally can’t take it; I tried kissing her once and almost ended up unconscious on the floor. Pure emotions aren’t a luxury I can’t afford to have. If I truly try to live in the moment, it might just be my last. This life I live is....hardly living at all.

*The doo unlocks but she doesn’t leave. Instead she leans against it, taking a moment to think*

Nick:Winning my first competition with Summer was a pretty great time. It was sort of like our debut to all of Atlas; showing them the Schnee’s are as strong as ever. I don’t ever think I’ve seen mom so proud of the two of us. Visiting Summer in the hospital after lake incident is the worst of my memories. I was...scared one of those visits were going to end horribly. I still don’t like hospitals.

*door swings open as he rushes out*

Summer:Nicholas would think I’m insane but his hospital visits are some of my most cherished memories. We always argued as kids but those visits were proof of how much he cared about me. If anything had to come out of that tragedy then I’m glad it was that. First day of combat school was a living nightmare for me though. *tensing up* we had to get changed into our combat gear and it was the first time I’ve ever been in a locker room. All the girls stared at my scars when I started to undress; gasping and showing grossed out expressions. It got so bad that I dropped out of the class for a year. Eventually I just powered through it but I’m still not comfortable with showing my skin. It’s the reason I’m always wearing long clothes.

*She waits for the doors to open before briskly leaving*

Valerie:My life is pretty boring honestly. I’m pretty sure anybody else has a much better memories. I good memory I have is my mom staying up with me all night the time I broke my arm. The numbing medicine wore off and the pain got really bad. She distracted me from it by just keeping me company until I passed out. I don’t really have bad memories....frankly I have a hard time even feeling important with how talented everyone else is. Almost like I’m dead weight.

*the locks surprisingly accept both responses and the door cracks open. She pushes her way through.*

Lucas:Best memory, writing a book. Worst memory, activating my semblance.....

*and just like that he was out of the room. No words or movements wasted what so ever*

Girl:....... *sits down and leans on it* Sorry, I don’t feel like opening up to something that’s supposed to open for me. Guess I fail this test; not that it matters. Can’t win them all; just ones that matter. *goes to sleep*

[fandom-trash-xl]

One-Shot: Behind Glass

Timeline Placement: Age 774 (5 Years Prior to Tournament of Destroyers)

OCs:

Lord Shiver- Frost's father; Blue-gray King Cold-style Second Form

Realis- Frost's mother; Light gray True Form with cyan biogems

The absence of rushing rain against his skin felt uneasy, but Hit had learned to adapt to it. Most of his assassination missions were fairly close by on his home planet, Daitoshi, a massive metropolis where crime always lurked and rain always poured. However, there was the occasional assignment he had to take off-planet. 

His latest task was a particularly large one. He had been assigned with assassinating an Arcosian crime lord, Shiver. This man surprisingly didn't make his business on the galaxy's crime capital planet, but stayed on his species's native planet of Arcos.

Hit was thankful for his stealth abilities because, on a planet inhabited by obscure species such as Arcosians, a man such as himself would stand out like a wolf in a sheep pen, especially with the tails. He could only rely on using his Time Skip to slip by for so long. This invisibility did not last as long as he had hoped.

However, he did manage to make his way to Shiver's estate. It seemed to be in a more secluded region of the planet, blockaded by trees and enamored in shadow. It seemed like a hostile environment- ideal for a target to make his home.

The room was near silent, the only sound being the occasional chatter amidst a few females of the race. He hoped to not draw any attention to himself. Not only would they possibly blow his cover, but he had the feeling they were the type of women that would pounce on him the first chance they got... considering the amount Shiver had.

Keeping his head down, he entered Shiver's meeting chambers. It was darker than the rest of the estate, but, through this darkness, he managed to make out a large throne, but no sign of the Arcosian who sat in it. It was unusual. This location seemed like the most plausible place for him to be, so he kept on his guard anyway.

After sometime of searching around, he suddenly heard echoing footsteps. They didn't seem all too loud and thundering for a man of Shiver's size, but he still sensed an imminent threat. He turned in different directions in a fighting stance. The women stopped their chatter to whisper amongst themselves. A shadow loomed on the wall. Indeed, a horned Arcosian with what appeared to be a cigarette in his mouth. No doubt that this was his target. Yet, he saw no physical being. He continued to be on his guard until a voice spoke.

"What are you doing here?"

He looked around for any source of the voice. There was no one there. Then, where did the voice come from-

"Down here, punk!"

Hit looked down to find a much smaller Arcosian. He only came up to slightly above his kneecaps. Despite his size, he had some maturity to his voice, so Hit figured he was thirteen at the oldest. He wore similar body armor to Shiver and had the same black cape, but his scales and biogems were brighter blues and his horns pointed in diagonals rather than Shiver's hook-shaped ones. The youth had a cigarette dangling from his mouth that gave off no smoke and looked more like a stick of school chalk on further inspection.

"Lord... Shiver?" Hit looked in confusion. 

The Arcosian youth simply laughed. "Do I really look like my father that much? How ridiculous..."

"Then, you are...?"

He stepped off towards Shiver's throne and struggled to climb into it, eventually flopping down onto the seat. "Frost. Shiver's son. Hell do you want?"

"I'm here to-" Hit stopped. Frost would most likely report back to his father if he revealed the true reason. "Meet with your father."

"Nice try, bud. No seeing Father without an appointment, no appointments while Father is out." He adjusted the chalk-like stick in his mouth. "Besides, you don't look like any of his usual clientele. Who are you anyway, punk?"

"No one." Hit answered straightforwardly. His name would blow his cover for sure.

"Give me a break." Frost rolled his cherry red eyes. "Everyone's someone, bud, even edgy punks like you. I'm not some dumb kid that, when you cover your eyes with your hands, I'll think you've up and disappeared. Now, if you would be so kind," He flashed his wrist, a metallic needle unsheathing itself. "Please vacate the premises, before I make you into my new cape rack!"

The assassin's eyes widened at the weapon this seemingly innocent youth wielded. "T-that's a--"

"Keen eye of yours, punk. It is indeed a venomous wrist-bound stinger. Just got them put in last week. Would you like to have the first taste~?" Frost taunted devilishly. 

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but it is against my moral code to harm an innocent."

The young Arcosian simply scoffed. "Heh. What a pus--"

"And, I was also wondering why your parents are okay with a child of your age wielding such a weapon?"

"Eh, it's less like being allowed and more like them not knowing. Not like an old punk like you would understand."

"Yet they let you have that cigar?"

"Oh, this thing? It's just some fake chalky candy..." He removed the candy cigarette, which had the other end bitten off. He gave a slight blow on it as if it were a real one, spreading chalky candy dust into the air. "I'd be skinned alive if I touched any of Father's stuff." As he continued to ramble, he turned back to Hit. "Wait a second... I see what you're trying to do. Stop wasting time, you sneaky punk, unless you don't want to see the sun again."

"Understood. I'll return at a later time then."

For the rest of the day, Hit stayed secluded in his ship. His client hadn't set a definite time limit for his assignment, so he had time to kill, but he hoped he could return home soon. 

He learned earlier in the day that Shiver was a father to a son, so it was likely he wouldn't be out of the house the whole day. Hit twitched at the thought that one of the crime lord's whores was probably the young boy's mother. But, he set this thought aside and decided it would be best to go after Shiver now that it was evening. 

Hit returned to the darkened estate in search of his target. As he neared the entrance, he noticed a head peeping out the window and stopped dead in his tracks. 

The boy was still awake. If he was seen, he'd probably be ratted out. 

After analyzing an angle of approach, a voice was heard in the house. 

"Frost? You still awake?" The voice was feminine. Frost sighed in response, spit out his cigarette candy, and closed the window. 

"Yes, mother... I'd better get to sleep so I'll be wide awake for my big day of nothing!" The sarcastic retort could be somewhat heard through the window.

"Oh, I know it's tough, my little icicle, but it's what your father thinks is best for you. If they see you out there, they're going to find out who your father is through process of elimination and you're going to get yourself into trouble. We don't want that, especially considering you'll be a brother soon."

"Oh, and how are they going to live? They're going to sit all day in the hellhole too?" A hard flicking sound was heard. "Ow!"

"Frost, listen to me here. One, cut the language. Two, you need to keep a positive attitude through this. Please, please understand. You need to-"

Hit suddenly shifted, which, surprisingly, attracted the female voice's attention. Did this woman have eagle eyes?  "There's someone outside. Get down now, don't let them see you." The assassin lurched, retreating to the darkness to observe. 

An Arcosian woman soon exited the building. She didn't look like any of Shiver's hookers- the man must have isolated her. She was light gray and hornless. The gems on her body were the colors of the sky. Small diamond-like jewels of this color were beneath her eyes. She wore a dark hooded gown and a gold and amethyst necklace on a pearl chain. As Hit had heard through the prior conversations, she was a mere few months pregnant, early enough that it was hardly noticeable.

"I know you're out here..." The female snarled, looking back and forth. "I'm not crazy."

Normally, Hit would keep his presence disclosed from everyone except his target. But, seeing this woman losing her mind over this... He stepped out into the open. 

"I see... Nothing hides from women like you..."

The Arcosian woman stopped in her tracks. "I-I know know you are... Damn well... You're that legendary assassin I've heard about. Never-Miss Hit was it?"

"You'd be correct."

"I know why you're here... You're here to kill him... Kill my dear Shiver. Uproot our family..." She fumbled at something shiny and silver at her belt.

"Well..."

The woman finally retrieved the item from her belt and flicked open the blade. She now held a well-sharpened knife, pointed at the assassin. "You're not going to get to him... or my son either! I won't let you destroy the family I've worked hard to build... You aren't going anywhere, assassin, and I can assure you why Shiver chose me." Her tail lashed against the ground, before she quickly pounced forward. "KYAAA~!!!"

She made savage jabs at Hit, causing him to promptly dodge using his Time Skip, much to the woman’s fury. “Stop. Dodging. You. Bastard.” She grunted through swings. “Just let me hang you up by your entrails already!”

Damn, this woman is terrifyingly passionate, Hit thought to himself. Despite all of his physical training, the Arcosian was starting to wear him out. He needed to fight back somehow, as his constant Time Skips were starting to sap his energy. Continuing his dodging pattern, he not only fought with an raging reptilian, but his conscience as well.

It was against his moral code to harm an innocent, this woman was just being protective of her husband and son.

But another part of his mind told him that she had no innocence to her name and was a legal target...

That was when Hit winced and took a chance. His eyes were closed tight as he made his strike, hoping he could hold back enough... As time resumed, he breathed heavily and opened his eyes to see... 

The woman, hunched over, her knife dropped, and her hand clutching her chest. “You... Bastard...” She wheezed. “Shiver... Won’t let you... Get...” As she finally collapsed, her hand moved from her chest, revealing the heart’s inward compression.

“N-no...” Hit stuttered as he realized. “I-I didn’t... intend to... Please don’t tell me anyone saw...” 

A sudden bright red beam shot down from above. He looked up to find Frost standing on the edge by the now broken bedroom window. The youth growled. “How dare you, you cold-hearted murderous SNAKE!” A flurry of more crimson beams rained from the Arcosian’s fingertip. Hit used his Time Skip to dodge the barrage, which only caused Frost to leap down from the windowsill to chase after him. “I’ll turn your body into a footstool and paint it crimson with your blood!” He flicked at the shiny stinger in his wrist, sending the poison dart flying towards Hit, who once again Time Skipped out of harm. He hid against a shadow-covered wall, still in earshot to hear the boy screaming bloody murder. 

“Hide if you will, you unforgiving piece of sh-t! My father will hear about this and there will be no escape for you then!”

On that note, Hit chose to make his escape.

“I’m sure you know that Lord Shiver fled from Arcos yesterday. Alive.” The Arcosian client’s tail flicked uneasily as he faced the assassin in the dimly lit office. 

“I am well aware, sir. I understand you’re-”

“And you’re just going to let him get away? You of all people?” The lizard’s eyes narrowed.

Hit sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I’m afraid so... I'd like to remind you that I am still mortal. I’m running on limited business hours because I’m dealing with a lot of mental-”

“So, you’re going to let him run rampant through the galaxy? Just because the so-called tough assassin can’t deal with a little stress on his platter? I think this is just because you think you’re not strong enough-”

Hit rose from his seat. He slammed one hand on the table and grabbed the Arcosian client by his shirt collar. “You may want to remind yourself who you’re talking to.” The client gulped and started to sweat, fearing death, just as the assassin set him down. “I’m afraid my office hours are over. I don’t charge for an incomplete job, so I’ll cancel your transaction.” He crossed out a printed line on the document on his desk with a black ink pen. “Come back in... about a few weeks or so, if it still bothers you.”

He drew the blinds closed and headed towards the door to return to his city apartment on Daitoshi.

Hit kept his living establishment simple, despite his wealth from assassination tasks. As a result, he wasn’t disappointed over a loss of a client’s payment. 

But, money was the least of his worries at the time. Ever since he had returned from his mission on Arcos, a thought had been buzzing in his mind. A haunting thought and a stinging feeling of guilt.

He was the reason an innocent woman, an innocent mother of soon to be two... was dead. 

He didn’t want to kill her. He just wanted to prove to her that he was not to be taken lightly, but the expression of his power defaulted to a killing blow. 

The thought of accidentally killing an innocent woman was enough to unnerve him, but the other repercussions made the situation more difficult to process. The young boy he met the morning of, Frost... he was now without a mother, he lost the prospect of hope in his distraught life that came with a younger sibling... Hit’s actions were probably the reason why Shiver left the planet, uprooting what remained of the family, leaving the boy to live with a scumbag father...

He sighed as he set his boots down by the door. As he approached his bedroom, he unpinned his coattails and removed his elbow and knee guards. He needed to clear his head. 

Due to the constant rainstorms on Daitoshi, it was near impossible to tell the time of day from the sky. Watches and other similar technology were the only way to tell. Pushing back his shirt cuff, Hit checked the time on his digital watch. It was only now approaching twelve o’clock noon. Hit grumbled, as he detached the watch from his wrist and tossed it over to a bedside table. “It doesn’t matter...” He slumped onto his bed, still in his usual uniform, and tried to put his mind at ease. 

Lord Shiver, crime boss of the planet Arcos, had set into space to expand his reach on the galaxy. After the death of his wife, Realis, and his son reporting a strange purple man in a trench coat behind it all, he felt that he would be hunted down more easily if he stayed in one location. So, he loaded up a shuttle, took Frost, and departed into the cosmos. The blue-gray Arcosian smiled at the sight of all the uncharted planets that speckled the galaxy, a much more divine view than what could ever be seen on Arcos... If only his son had bothered to admire the view on the bridge with him.

Frost had been cooped up in his quarters ever since they had taken off, only leaving its comforts for small meals, which he ate in silence. As a father, it concerned him. Sure, he didn’t spend as much time as he had wished to with his only son, but, since Realis was no longer around for the boy... He felt more of a responsibility for him.

Shiver activated the panel to his son’s quarters, causing the door to slide open. He found Frost on the bed, flopped over face down. He could hear faint and muffled mumbling, interrupted by the occasional *hic* from a catch in the boy’s throat. Dangling from his hand was his mother’s pearl-chained necklace: one of the few remnants of her left. Frost had been insistent on taking it with him.

“Um... Hey... Frost?” He tried to grab his son’s attention, only to receive an irritated tail flick in response. “Kiddo...?” The tail angrily flicked yet again, nearly lashing him like a whip. This time, it was accompanied by an unenthused growl. Despite his clear refusal to cooperate, Shiver still made an attempt. “My little icicle?” He attempted.

He finally got a response, muffled from the pillow. “Only Mother is allowed to call me that. Shut up and leave me alone!” Frost increased his grip on the necklace.

Shiver sighed. “Frost, get up, please.” He squeezed the younger Arcosian’s tail, causing him to jolt upward. He dropped his mother’s necklace and frantically retrieved it from the ground, clutching it harder. The damp and sticky remnants of tears were on his face. 

“The hell do you want, Father?” Frost snarled.

“I-I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m. Fine.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “Now, go away!”

“Frost, you’re not okay. I can tell. You’ve been isolated in here crying since we first boarded.”

“I wasn’t cry-” Frost was interrupted by a few fresh tears streaming down his face. He rubbed them away. “This proves nothing.”

Shiver simply laughed. “Sure... Even if it was, that’s still not going to change what I wanted to tell you that’ll probably put you in a better mood.”

“Hmm?”

“How would you feel about finally be unconfined, my boy?”

“What?!” Frost was astonished and nearly fell off the bed. 

“Yes, you heard me right. No one knows me out here, so no one will know you. You can be your own person, mold yourself into your own person. You’re free to roam this galaxy, Frost.”

The Arcosian started to shed tears again, not out of grief this time, but out of happiness. “W-why would I pass this up?”

“Excellent.” Shiver smiled. “All according to my ideal vision...”

“Wait, what did you just say?”

The older Arcosian started to sweat a bit. “Umm, nothing, kid.”

5 Years Later, Age 779

Participating in a martial arts tournament brought on by the God of Destruction’s hissy fit with his brother wasn’t Hit’s ideal thought of how to spend the day, but he came to claim a prize. The angel, Vados, had promised him a hexahedron in exchange for the team’s success and such equipment was essential for more efficient work in the future.

In preparation, knowing that killing was a foul, the assassin had worked on his personal skillset. He focused on strength, and holding back enough to avoid further... incidents. 

He stood gazing between the pillars of Champa’s foyer, where three other warriors were gathered along with him. One of them was a rather pudgy and rubbery yellow bear and another seemed to be of the Metal Man race. Only one was rather humanoid in physique. He wore a blue and gold uniform and had spiked black hair. He was stretching his legs, most likely as a last minute exercise. Hit still wondered about the scene. Didn’t Champa say there would be five warrior representatives?

“Hey... sir?” A voice asked Hit. He snapped back to reality. “Are you alright? You seemed to spacing out.” The assassin turned around to see the spiky-haired boy, who had finished his warmups.

“I’m fine, kid. It seems we’re waiting on our fifth-”

“Wait a second, would you happen to be the legendary assassin, Hit?” The boy inquired.

“Correct.”

“Oh, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir. I’ve always looked up to people like you.”

Hit shuddered in surprise. Was this kid serious? “Um, it’s... nice to have fans?”

“Yeah, I’ve always been fond of vigilantes such as yourself. That’s kind of want inspired me to join the Sadalan Saiyan Defense Force. I’m a long time member.”

The assassin sighed in relief. That was why. “Anyways, have you heard anything on the status of the team’s fifth member?”

“I’m not all too sure myself. He should be here, he wouldn’t miss out on an event like this. In fact, he was the one who recommended me to Lord Champa to be invited to fight.”

“Perhaps something’s holding him up.” 

As the Saiyan boy prepared to speak again, a feminine voice called out, alerting the God of Destruction. “Lord Champa, your fifth warrior is here!” 

“Bring him in, Vados!”

“See?” Hit shrugged. “No reason to worry--” He cut himself off when he saw the member that the angel had led in.

He was a reptilian-like creature, most likely an Arcosian. He had a blue palette and had two diagonally pointing horns. He donned light gray bio-armor and seemed all too familiar to Hit.

“What took you so long?” Champa grumbled in a snarky tone.

The Arcosian bowed lightly. “Forgive my tardiness, Lord Champa.” There seemed a mature accent in his voice, but it still sounded youthful. “I’m usually more punctual. Press meetings ran a bit long.” As he stepped into the foyer with the other warriors, Hit continued to ponder the participant’s identity. The colors, the voice, the horns... He just couldn’t place the name.

That was until the Arcosian and the Saiyan boy began to converse. “I see Lord Champa took my advice and acquired an elite like you for this tournament team, Cabba.”

“And it’s a pleasure to see you again, too, Mister Frost!”

That last word that Cabba spoke echoed in Hit’s mind. Why was that name so familiar...? Suddenly, memories of five years prior came flashing back to him.

“Frost. Shiver’s son. Hell do you want?”

It was... that boy. The Arcosian boy, the one whose mother he had killed by mistake. He hoped that Frost didn’t notice him. He couldn’t bear to remind himself and he didn’t want to remove the ease in the atmosphere by being called out as a murderous snake in front of everyone. Hit averted his gaze, so as not to lock eyes.

As Cabba and Frost continued to speak with each other, the assassin couldn’t help but notice the Arcosian’s eyes peering over at him, promptly widening in surprise (and probably panic as well), then diverting his attention back to the Saiyan. He seemed uneasy and Hit understood why he would be. 

This near-silence was interrupted by Champa calling out to the group of five warriors. “Okay, listen up, you five.” All of them stood in an orderly formation at the sound of the deity's voice. “You are all gathered here to fight in a one-on-one tournament against some losers from Universe 7.” Champa spoke of the twin universe as it were the plague. “So, as not to lose to my brother, you’ll need to put in your best effort.” He directed to his angel. "Show 'em, Vados."

"Yes, my lord." Vados projected a hologram of a large pile of gold coins, jewels, and other assorted treasures. "As a reward for winning the tournament, you will each be provided with a portion of the treasure Lord Champa has provided. The total value of--"

Hit stopped paying attention at this point. Finances were none of his concern, as he only needed the promised transport vessel. But, he also averted his attention to note Frost, who was gawking at the prize pile. He was muttering some numbers, mostly likely performing mental calculations. The assassin felt a brushing at his kneecap. He looked down to note the source. Frost's tail was swishing so fast that it was practically wagging.

He resumed his focus when Champa began to speak and the Arcosian's tail stopped moving aimlessly. Frost noticed Hit behind him and started to shift away. 

"As you can see, I've collected more than enough incentive for you to give your all. If the five of you win this contest for me, you can take all you want." The God of Destruction turned back to the warriors with a glare. "Don't even ask what happens if you lose."

"We'd best be off to the arena." Vados advised. "It counts to be on time."

Despite the hexahedron's seemingly large size, it was rather compact, probably due to the two large team members. However, minus the massive competitors, it would be ideal for Hit to travel in alone. 

As Hit analyzed the space around, Frost was shooting him hesitant glances.  When the assassin's eyes met his, he turned his head away.

"I'm sorry, can I help you?"

The Arcosian shivered and turned towards the assassin. "Oh sorry, didn't see you there. You must be Hit, the legendary assassin." He held out his hand. "It's a... pleasure..." His voice wavered, probably due to nerves.

Hit took the hand anyway. “And you must be Frost?”

“Oh, you remembered-” He cut himself off. “I-I mean, uh, lucky guess...”

Hit was confused by Frost’s behavior. Sure it had been five years, but he seemed more mature and well-composed. Yet, he also appeared to be faking confidence.

“Us vigilantes have to stick together you know... And I know how hard it must be. Some of those targets of yours must mean a lot to some people...” 

“Uhh, yeah...” Hit understood Frost’s subtle implications... and it made him feel unnerved.

“Well, it’s nice to have people like you sacrificing their time for such a cause.” 

As Frost released, Hit couldn’t help but notice the subtle middle finger at his side.

But, the assassin chose to set it aside, as they were approaching the planet with no name.

[rollzerox]

@thedragonsweek2019

Day Five of The Dragons Week 2019 Prompts! This time it’s Family Bonds and since I’m centering this around Lina it’s time for Lina bonding with her family the Happy Hungry Bunch! For reference Valerie is my OC and married to Hak, Ura is their son.

“It’s great everyone is doing better now, probably because we’re back in Kouka.” Yona noted as she added a bit more to the fire as the stars were out and it was their only light source. Dinner had finished and everything was cleaned up and she giggled watching Zeno chase around Lina and Ura. “Ok you three how about you sit down for a bit?” she sighed and sat down next to her husband that was holding their newborn baby girl. “Mommy, where did the baby’s name come from?” Lina asked as she approached her parents. “You and daddy had said she was named after someone important.” Jae-ha chuckled as he pet the young Ryokuryuu on the head. “That’s true little one, she was Auntie Valerie’s mother actually. You wouldn’t remember her as she passed away when you were just a baby.” “Oh please, she was just as much my mother as she was yours.” Valerie chuckled, taking Ura into her lap as she sat next to her husband Hak. “That’s why when Yona sweetie suggested it I thought it was a great idea.” Yona smiled at that, pulling Lina into her lap as she hugged her close. “In the short time I knew Captain Gigan she was already like a mother to me, and that was only a few days. She inspired me to become stronger and helped me better myself. She taught me so many things and was a great example. I could see why you two loved and respected her so much, so that’s why I wanted to name our second daughter after her.” “I’m sure she would have been honored, princess.” Kija spoke up. “Knowing her she would have tossed me into the sea if I denied your suggestion Yona love.” Jae-ha laughed, cradling his baby girl in his arms. “After all she was a big influence on both our lives, who knows if we would have met like we did had I not been in Awa? I probably would have been running from the dragons forever.” “Well you were the hardest one to get to join us.” Hak brought up. “The only one that joined us faster than White Snake was Zeno, but that was because he was secretly stalking us the whole time.” “Zeno already explained that mister.” Zeno chuckled as he took his seat. “Zeno arrived last after the miss gathered the other dragons to test her.” “How did you meet everyone Papa?” Ura asked, looking at his father the Thunder Beast. “Yeah I wanna know the whole story how mommy met daddy!” Lina chimed in. “And how you met Uncle White Snake, Uncle Shin-ah, Uncle Hermit and Grandma Yoon! Mommy said Uncle Darkness Dragon protected her in the castle but what from there?” “Oh my, seems it’s time for a story then.” Jae-ha chuckled. “Would you rather start Hak or should Yona-chan?” “Well I can chime in.” Valerie offered with a chuckle, looking at Ura. “I met your Uncle Jae-ha when we were young, caught him stealing from a vendor because he didn’t know about money and had left a really bad place. I took him home back to your grandma and she took him in. As for your father… I met him during a tournament I went to, from there I found out he lived in the Wind Tribe and went to visit every now and again.” “After we left the palace gramps sent us to find Ik-su, and that’s how we met your Grandma Yoon.” Hak continued. “Yeah and I’ve been keeping you guys alive since then.” Yoon rolled his eyes. “You were half dead then and barely made it, I still remember Yona begging me to save you. From there we went to find Kija’s village.” “Which the first time I saw the princess my blood called out to her and I knew I had found my master.” Kija took over from there, admiration on his face as he looked at Yona. “Lina, your mother was brave and strong coming to my village and asking for my help, I gladly accepted my role and lead them to Shin-ah.” “…. Yona offered me to come with, gave me a name…” Shin-ah spoke up, smiling as he recalled this and Ao purred on his shoulder. “Ao liked her right away so I knew she was a nice person… From there we went to find Jae-ha…” “So daddy came with you after that like they did?” Lina asked. “Actually Droopy Eyes found me first.” Hak grumbled at the memory. “Wanted me to join the captain at the time. He actually was dodging the princess when we got into town.” “And told her to leave.” Yoon chimed in. “He was quite rude when we met.” Kija added. Yona giggled at that. “They are right, your father turned me down at first Lina.” She smiled at her daughter. “Only because unlike your Uncle Kija, your father didn’t want to just join me because of the legends or his dragon blood. Though it was cute when he tried to sound so threatening.” Jae-ha looked away as his cheeks were slightly red. “Yes, yes, I know I am never going to live that down. The biggest mistake I ever made was denying going with you, my dearest wife.” He then kissed Yona on the cheek. “But then again you wouldn’t have captivated my heart so much as you tried to prove yourself.” “You mean Uncle Jae-ha actually didn’t like Auntie Yona at first?” Ura asked. “Not exactly, he just didn’t want to be forced to be her dragon.” Valerie explained. “In fact I found her very alluring when we first met, just it had to be my choice to follow her.” Jae-ha said, smiling as Yona leaned her head against his shoulder. “From there it was all downhill Lina as your mother just kept on amazing me until I just fell so hard for her that I couldn’t stand to have her out of my sight.” “And you were nothing but charming especially during Captain Gigan’s test.” Yona giggled, looking at her husband lovingly. “Even telling me to hide from her that you helped me, so determined to help me pass and following me when you didn’t have to.” “Well we both were glad I did that, Yona dear.” Jae-ha pointed out. “Your stubbornness always got you into situations that aren’t good for my heart.” “Says the man that admires my strength and determination.” The princess countered. “Not to mention you’re the one that doesn’t try to talk me out of things as often as the rest.” “Well you did say you hate being held back my love, and it is a turn on, every time…” Jae-ha purred, leaning in to kiss her. “There they go.” Yoon rolled his eyes. “Sometimes you swear those two just got married and not six years ago.” Hak remarked. “Awww come on Hak honey, you do just fine when I can get you to forget your pride.” Valerie teased with a wink. “Eeewwww…” Ura groaned and looked away. “Lina your parents are weird, they’re always so kissy and stuff.” “Oh you don’t know anything Ura!” Lina stuck her tongue out at him, giggling then at her parents making out in front of the group. “Daddy just really loves mommy a lot and he wants everyone to know.” “Trust me we’ve been given enough examples to the point that the princess doesn’t get embarrassed by his public affection anymore…” Kija groaned as he looked away. “… He just likes to make Yona happy.” Shin-ah said. “Zeno thinks the missy and Ryokuryuu are still a cute couple!” Zeno laughed. “Aahhhhh!” the little baby in Jae-ha’s arms was the only noise that got the couple to stop kissing, as she turned to her newborn with a smile. “Don’t worry little one, mommy and daddy haven’t forgotten you.” Jae-ha chuckled, kissing the baby’s forehead. “Lina, would you like to hold your little sister?” “Can I?” Lina looked surprised as her father handed her baby Gigan. “She’s so tiny.” “You were that tiny too once.” Yona giggled, holding Lina tight in her lap as she nuzzled her cheek. “You too Ura.” Valerie chuckled, hugging her son. “So when did you marry mommy then daddy?” Lina asked after a moment. “Uncle Darkness Dragon said you’ve been married for six years but that’s how old I am. And Gigan was in mommy’s tummy for months.” Yona blushed madly as she really didn’t want to discuss that to her daughter. Jae-ha just chuckled. “Well after some time on the road and traveling I realized just how much I love your mother and she fell for me as well, one day it just came out and we confessed to each other. I was the luckiest man alive when she chose me as the love of her life.” He smiled, kissing Yona once more but briefly this time. “The princess you met in Xing helped arrange our marriage as a thanks for all the amazing things your mommy did for her. You were born a few months later little one, the day you saved your mother’s life.” He ruffled his daughter’s pigtails which made her giggle. “You came out of your mommy’s stomach early you see, just ask Grandma Yoon.” “… Well that is true.” Yoon shrugged, deciding to let it go as he sure didn’t want to explain to the small children where babies came from. “So I came early to save mommy right?” Lina asked, as her parents had told her the story of her birth before, and she always took pride in the fact she saved her mother and Yoon. “That’s right Lina, all the more reason you’re my precious treasure.” Jae-ha said, hugging his family as he showered his girls in kisses. “Just like your mother is the princess of my heart.”

[caddy-whump-us]

I got tagged by @the-wandering-whumper!

Name: Cat

How old were you when you first realized you liked guys getting hurt?: I'm not completely sure, but I can definitely remember really liking any kids' cartoon that had the characters getting captured or kidnapped for an episode or two--and I still have an inclination towards captivity whump. I know that by the time I was a teenager and getting into animanga, I got into Gundam Wing and X/1999 and I really did like seeing Quatre and Kamui getting thrown around (those two especially).

What was that very first scene you remember gave you those glorious butterfly feelings?: Probably the scene in Disney's Robin Hood where Robin Hood's disguise at the archery tournament is literally sliced off him and Prince John just says "Seize him" and the next thing you know he's pounced on by guards and he's all wrapped up in chains and ropes and looking helpless.

Or else it was a scene in a Wonderworks cartoon where a werewolf has captured a young human character in a forest, rendered them unconscious, and then the character wakes up tied sitting in wooden chair with tall sides (so the character's hands are tied above their head to each side) and they wake up pulling on the ropes and saying, "Please let me go!" but the werewolf is very precisely telling them that he is going to bite them at midnight so they'll turn into a werewolf too--I literally recreated this scene secretly in my room with my toys I liked it so much.

Bonus for the text-based choose-your-own-adventure RPG computer game I played in 5th grade where one of the paths ended with "you" being captured, tied up, and dumped off the back of a truck in the woods (and I always pictured a boy character for this).

And there's an episode of the original TMNT where April is held captive by Shredder for, like, the whole episode and it was my secret fave, but that centers around a female characters, so does that count?

When and how was it that you realized “Hey, I’m not so messed up in the head!” and that there’s a definition and community for this sort of thing?: I guess I never really thought I was all that "messed up" for liking this (after all, they put these scenes in kids' movies), but it seemed like it was just something that one wasn't supposed to talk about. It was a bit like liking scary movies: some people like it, but it's creepy to most people, so it's not polite to talk about it. (I was always afraid of getting in trouble if someone found some of my writings and drawings, but some of it was more vent art than whump stuff.)

I played out some whumpy scenes in my LJ and DW RP days without knowing the terminology for it at the time ("hurt/comfort" was a more common term then) and wrote whumpy stories with OCs for years and years. But it's only been in the last few months that I've realized there's a separate, identifiable community just for these kinds of scenes, even though I've been either imagining or writing them for ages. And y'all are the nicest bunch of sadists I've ever met, it's really true.

What’s your favorite whump trope?: The Helpless Look. You know the one. It's the face-down/eyes-up, soft mouth look when a whumpee is good and stuck and hurting or about to hurt. It's so good. (Weirdly young Hugh Grant makes this face a lot--albeit in non-whump scenes?)

Along with that or following after it is the Submissive Look Down, which is like, so yummy, with the whumpee both feeling helpless and afraid and accepting of the circumstances. Bonus points for a little heavy breathing here.

Helplessness seems to be a recurring theme for me and whump. It may be why I really like whumpees in bandages too--especially kind of trying to get on with things despite hurting. Patched-up and bandaged is a great look for whumpees.

But I'm also a fan of Tied Up and Tied to a Chair and Tied Down to a Bed. Chained to the Wall with a Collar is good, and so are cages, but I'm really more fond of just Tied Up.

I do like a good beatdown, sure, but I really seem to like a lot of "non-traditional" whump, like non-con body mods (ear piercing or tattoos or traumatic haircuts). Surprise, whumpee: you're now part of a human experimentation project, so hold still while we ink on your identification numbers with a needle. Or, oh, hey, the whumper just carved a magic sigil into the whumpee body, making the whumpee into an unwilling magical familiar and storage space for the whumper's spare magical energy.

What’s a whump trope that you hate?: Mindless or aimless physical beatings. It just gets boring to me? I really need some connection between the characters or something to make the situation more interesting. I'm also not a huge fan of whump by inanimate object--like a car accident, say--unless there's some good focus on the aftermath.

What’s your favorite whumped character?: I'm honestly not into all that many fandoms and I've found I really dig OC whump, strange as that sounds. But if I have to choose, I'll look to my past: Kamui Shiro from X/1999 is so pretty when he bleeds or when he's wearing all kinds of bandages.

Quatre from Gundam Wing takes a stab to the gut with a broken fencing foil late in the series and I loved that (and the dozens of doujinshi where Trowa comes to his rescue after) along with the Zero Wing mind-control stuff (again, rescue).

Now for the last several years, I've been hung up on Cain Hargreaves from Godchild/Cain Saga. He's got a painful childhood (which is another issue), but he takes a few hits now that he's grown. He's quite pretty when he's helpless. Now, his faithful servant Riff gets fully whumped on several occasions, which leads to some wonderful emotional whump for Cain, so that's a win-win.

And Setsuna Monou from Angel Sanctuary is great for blood and bandages and drama--he’s a bit spunkier than some, but he gets whumped quite a bit too, and he’s pretty, so it’s nice.

I really think Kamui and Quatre are the base elements for my favorite OC whumpee Julian.

What’s that whumped scene(s) that you’ve watched over and over again. (We know you do it and we understand): I actually don’t have an answer for this? I’m really not into a lot of fandoms (especially not television or movie fandoms), so I’m going to have to skip this one.

Bullet or stab wounds?: Stab wounds, for sure. They're somehow...slower? More intimate? Don't get me wrong: a good bullet wound is fine too (and I wrote a very long big bang fic about the Clint Eastwood character The Man With No Name that involves both bullet wounds and a no-holds-barred beatdown--it's on my ao3 if you want to see it, wink wink). But I love knives--for stabbing characters, slicing characters, holding to their throat, &c. Mmmm good stuff.

Fevers or Hypothermia?: Fevers! Hypothermia doesn't really do it for me, but I bet there's some good whumpy hypothermia that would. But, of the two, fevers: whumpees confined to bed, with caretakers (grumpy ones, kind ones, unwilling ones, resigned ones), labored and shuddering breathing, chills and sweats, delirium, bad dreams, glittery feverish eyes--I love it.

Emotional or physical?: Psychological, actually. That is, what the whumper is doing might or might not be all that painful physically, but the psychological toll might be higher than the physical. I think it’s somewhere between emotional whump and physical whump--or it unites the two.

If I have to choose between the two, though? Physical, but I really need some emotional involvement in it. It's not just about the physical, it's also the emotional (whether I know what the emotional whump is because I know the story or I'm picking up/projecting the story).

Injured and asks for help or tries to cover it up?: Both of these are so good! I think it depends on the character and what's going to make for more delicious whump, really. Because I've got some OCs who are delicious when they're hurt and asking for help and others who are amazing when they try to tough it out.

My fondness for helplessness really does mean I like both.

Lastly, does anyone know about this addiction of yours?: Not...that I know of? Now, someone might and they just haven't told me that they know. I was always down for a whumpy scene in my LJ/DW RP days, but that wasn't so unusual there--it was all for the sake of character angst (as we called it then). I've not confessed to my addition to anyone, though. So there you have it.

Pass this on!

[staytheb]

Assume

Pairing: SKZ’s Minho x OC [Melanie/Chaewon] Genre: college!au, slice of life, slight angst, slight fluff Word Count: 2,878 Summary: Minho takes things into his own hands in confronting Melanie despite any solid proof. Because of his actions she's disgusted, angry, and ends up slightly fearing him. Once Minho realizes that he's been in the wrong, can he even make it up to her?

Warning: swear words. mature content? the mention of sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship. college party stuff... lol

i had this thought in my head since i’ve been hearing and seeing a lot of it over the years and my sister mentioning it to be of how her friend was doing something like that. other than that, it’s just a minor thing and nothing to big. also Minho was the first one to pop up for the lead role and so i let him. lol especially since he’s one of the 3 of my sister’s biases for SKZ. happy reading and kthxbai, Admin Lia~

revised. 9.10.20

Melanie felt herself being pulled into a room after having visited the Sigma Kappa Zeta bathroom. Before she could even register her surroundings and the person that had dragged her into one of the rooms, Melanie was pushed up against the door with a male body pressed against her. The room was dimly lit and when she was able to actually get a chance to look at the guy, Melanie was surprised to see it was Minho. Just as Melanie was about to ask him why he brought her in to the room, Minho crashed his lips against hers. A second or two passed when Melanie panicked upon realizing that he was kissing her and so she pushed him away instantly.

"What are you do-"

Minho interrupted her by pressing his lips against hers once again. Melanie tensed up as she pushed him off of her once more while in her panicking state which kicked in even more as tears began to form.

"Shouldn't it be me that you're going for, Chaewon? Aren't I more of your type?" Minho asked her harshly upon being rejected twice and then trapping her between his arms when he saw her trying to escape. "Or should I call you Melanie instead?"

"Going to you? What do you mean?" Melanie asked wondering what Minho was even going on about as the two had hardly ever interacted until recently. "What do you want from me, Minho?"

"What do you think?" Minho said with a smirk and wriggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. "I'm young and your age. Not someone's grandfather."

Minho tried to go in for another kiss, but Melanie shook her head and held him at bay as best as she could. While she was hyper aware of their current predicament, Melanie had a nagging feeling in her gut to be cautious of Minho's intentions and where they were coming from as his last words were starting to piece itself together in her head despite still being fuzzy.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Minho, but I'm not like that."

"Of course you are, Melanie." Minho stated nonchalantly. "You're a sugar baby so why not be my sugar baby instead?"

Minho placed his hands on both of her wrists and easily removed her arms from keeping him away and pinned her arms against the door and above her head instead. Melanie panicked as her eyes darted to where he held her arms before glancing back at him with widened eyes.

"I don't know what you've heard or seen, Minho, but you're misunderstanding this whole sugar baby thing."

"Am I, Chaewon?" Minho asked in such a way that sent shivers down Melanie's spine and her gut feeling was getting bigger.

Before she could reasoned with him once more, Minho instantly pressed his lips against Melanie's once again. Unlike the last two previous attempts, he was able to deepened the kiss this time around. Melanie continued to struggle against Minho and was able to free one of her hands. She was able to weakly used it to karate chop his neck which caused him to break the kiss and she used the chance to pushed him away as tears fell.

"I don't know who the fuck you are to think I wanna have sex with you like that, but you're a fucking asshole." Melanie spat out with frustration as panicked tears continued to fall.

Something in Minho paused his behavior when he saw Melanie's tears and how she was reacting towards him. He was confused by her behavior and wondered if he had really misunderstood the situation between her and his grandfather's relationship.

"Chaewon," He began, but Melanie shook her head as she blindly searched for the doorknob behind her back and found it, "Don't."

Melanie turned the knob and was able to opened the door. Minho tried to grab a hold of her, but she shook him off and made her escape.

"Chaewon! Wait!" Minho called out after her as he chased after Melanie through the throngs of people.

"Chaewon!"

Melanie ignored him as she weaved in-between the bodies where the Sigma Kappa Zeta house were throwing their final house party before the winter break while trying to find her friends. Melanie spotted Serena in the same spot she had left her along with their other two friends, Katherine and Jasmine.

"There you are!" Katherine exclaimed with a relieved look. "I was about to make a search party to go looking for you."

"Hey, can we go?" Melanie asked while looking over her shoulder before returning her eyes on her friends. "Please.'

"Oh, why?" Jasmine asked with a pout. "I was about to join the next round in the Keg Tournament."

"Like, can we go now?" Melanie pleaded as Serena looked at her in concern upon noticing the redness in her friend's eyes. "Did something happen?"

"I'll explain later, but right now I just wanna leave. Please."

Just then Minho appeared from behind her upon catching up to Melanie.

"Chaewon."

He placed a hand on her shoulder and Melanie instantly tensed up. Serena took notice immediately due to her being closer to the two and intervened which also alerted the other two that something wasn't quite right.

"Maybe next time, bud." Serena told him with a feign smile as she pulled Melanie towards her causing Minho's hand to slip off of Melanie's shoulder. "We gotta go."

"But I really need to talk with Chaewon, Yeon."

"Well, sorry, Minho. Maybe next time. Bye."

Serena maneuvered Melanie in front of her while pushing her towards the front door leaving Minho behind with the other two friends. Katherine and Jasmine tried to block Minho from giving chase, but he pushed past the two. The pair shrugged it off as they continued mingling with the others before heading to the Keg Tournament held by Changbin. Minho scowled when he lost sight of Melanie and Serena before his eyes lit up upon seeing just the person that could help him out in getting Melanie alone again.

"Thanks." Melanie thanked Serena once the duo exited SKZ house and were walking down Greek row back to their dormitory.

"Welcome." Serena said before side-glancing her friend. "You wanna talk about it?"

Melanie let out a sigh while running a hand through her hair.

"Minho thinks I'm some sugar baby and thinks I might have a thing for hella older guys."

"Are you talking about Grandpa Park who was your grandfather's best friend before he died?"

"Yeah, that same Grandpa Park. I found out yesterday that he's actually Minho's grandfather on his mom side when we had our usual dinner night."

"Ahh, okay. I get it now. It's because of you hanging out with a super old man and the fact that Grandpa Park treats you like you're one of his grand-kids even though he calls you by the name that your own grandfather use to refer to you as instead of your Korean name. Which of course it made Minho think you and his grandfather were having a special relationship. Yeah?"

"Yeah, basically. That's just weird and I don't even know why he would think that and because of that he tried to seduce me and force himself onto me."

"Okay, that explains you tensing up earlier then when he placed his hand on to your shoulder."

"Yeah. I mean, Minho is cute and all, but the way that situation happened just now, I didn't think he and I would find ourselves like that."

"Maybe he got jealous thinking that you were fucking his granddaddy and not him."

"Ew. I don't want that image of Grandpa Park in my head. He's a nice old man and was my grandpa's best friend. Besides, there's nothing for Minho to be jealous about since we barely know one another and don't even hang out that much."

Melanie nudged Serena with a disgusted look as the two friends let out laughs for the fun of it. The two had just left Greek row when Serena heard her name being called out from behind.

"Yeon!"

The female pair glanced behind them as Melanie nudged Serena with a playful look upon seeing Chan in the distance despite the dimly lit campus.

"Hey, it's your boyfriend."

"Chan's not my boyfriend."

Serena denied hotly as she picked up pace with Melanie matching her.

"Okay then, Serena, your fuck buddy."

"We actually ended that relationship a few days ago."

"Oh really?"

"Yeon!" Chan called out from behind them, but was closer this time.

Melanie glanced behind her and saw that Chan was only a meter or two away.

"Are you sure?"

"Most definitely." Serena stated firmly with a nod. "Now how about we make a mad dash for it like you and Minho?"

"I think you're on your own because he's coming right now. Like super hella right now."

Melanie pointed behind her and Serena glanced behind her as well before casting her friend a look.

"If I don't return to the dorm, then something happened to me."

"Something hella good, I'm sure." Melanie mused as Serena made a face at her. "Shut up. Bye!"

Serena picked up pace as she ran off to the right just as Chan reached where the duo was.

"Yeon!" Chan screamed out before shooting Melanie a smile and a mocked salute before running after Serena. "Yeon!"

Melanie just watched their disappearing figures with a small smile before letting out a heavy sigh as she continued the walk back to the dorms in silence. That was until she herself suddenly heard another pair of footsteps behind her. Melanie brushed it off as another student walking along the campus since there were a few night owls out and about at this time. Still though the nagging feeling in her told her otherwise and she picked up pace. Her dorm wasn't that far and all she had to do was just keep telling herself that as she finally neared her dorm. Just as she was about to walk up the steps leading to the front door, Melanie felt a hand reach out to grab a hold of hers. Before she could let out a scream and defend herself the person immediately spoke instead.

"It's just me." Minho reassured her with a calm tone once Melanie stood facing him. "It's just me, Chaewon."

Melanie unconsciously took several steps back, but Minho still held a firm grip on her hand as the two were now two arms length apart this time. Melanie didn't slip her hand out of his and she wasn't exactly sure why, but she kept a steady gaze on Minho with a questioningly yet cautious look. Minho noticed that there was a hint of fear in her eyes and he wished he could make that feeling disappear. He wished that she would be able to trust him again and see that he was wrong and an idiot.

"I'm sorry, Chaewon." Minho apologized with a genuine expression. "I know that my words doesn't erase the actions that I've done to you earlier, but I do apologize for my behavior and that assuming you were doing the things that I thought you were doing. I was wrong. I'm an idiot and I guess jealous, too."

Melanie didn't say anything for a while as she wanted to let his words settled between the two of them first.

"I forgive you, Minho, but it doesn't mean that I won't forget what happened." Melanie stated before tilting her head. "But why would you be jealous though?"

Minho ran his free hand through his hair while looking towards the night sky before returning his gaze back onto Melanie.

"I liked you since our first year at Seouldae, but our schedules and circle never ran along together." Minho admitted. "I mean, you probably didn't even know I existed, but I knew you existed. And when Yeon and Chan started their little relationship, I was able to actually see you and interact with you because of that."

Melanie remained quiet as she let Minho continued to talk.

"But there was talks amongst my mother and her friends saying something about my grandpa having a young girlfriend since my grandma died a few years back. Then I found out that it was you who he was hanging out with lately and treating you to nice things and such. It was weird, but it made me jealous that you were doing all those things with him and not me. And eventually my mom's and her friends' words got to me that he was your sugar daddy and you were his sugar baby."

Minho finished with a heavy sigh as he cast Melanie such a melancholy look.

"Why didn't you just ask, Minho?" Melanie asked him. "All you had to do was just ask me about it and my relationship with Grandpa Park. I mean, it would have been much easier than trying to force yourself on me assuming I was Grandpa Park's sugar baby."

"I wanted to ask, Chaewon I did, but I dunno. I guess the jealousy grew until it blindsided me to do what I did thinking that was the better option in the end."

"You know, if you just asked and we talked this whole thing out, you and I wouldn't be like how we are right now."

"I know, but here we are, anyways because of my dumb thinking."

"Well, since you're still not asking about it, Minho, but Grandpa Park and I have nothing intimate going on between us." Melanie clarified. "I just keep him company because my grandfather was his best friend and he just misses my grandpa a lot and gets to relive those moments through me since I'm the only family that's left of my grandfather's. They've known one another for over fifty years and so I can't imagine losing someone you have known for practically your whole life suddenly not being there with you anymore. Even more so since Grandpa Park lost his wife before losing my grandpa only a few months ago."

"I can't imagine that either and I'm glad that you took the time out of your own schedule to be a friend to my grandfather." Minho said with a smile. "Thank you."

"Your grandfather is a really nice man. He has great stories and I didn't know that they were all about you though. I just thought he was talking about another Minho."

"Thanks for telling me that. Now I'm going to tell him to stop talking to you about any stories relating to me."

"To be honest, they're actually kind of cute because I think you're pretty cute, too, Minho."

Minho rolled his eyes, but a small smile was evident upon his lips. The two somehow inched closer to each other with Minho still holding onto Melanie's hand firmly.

"I know it might be weird or whatever, but I really hope that you and I could start anew since I'm assuming that it's kinda okay between the two of us." Minho said with a hopeful look as Melanie nodded. "We can, but maybe in a few days or something? I'm actually really busy this week before winter break sets in."

"That's fine by me. I don't mind waiting and I would love to make it up to you with a date whenever you're free."

"I'll think about it." Melanie teased him as Minho rolled his eyes, but nodded nevertheless. "Okay, Chaewon. It is your call. I respect that."

Melanie smiled as this was the Minho that she preferred although there was more sass to him, but she wanted to make sure of something.

"Your behavior earlier, no more of that, right?"

"Nope, well, unless you say otherwise if we actually get together and probably get around to doing it." He quirked one eyebrow playfully and suggestively as Melanie rolled her eyes before replying. "Yeah, well I guess the late lunch I was gonna offer tomorrow is gonna have to get postponed until school starts again."

Minho groaned, but reluctantly nodded. Melanie chuckled before trying to get her hand out of his, but Minho held onto her hand firmly.

"Minho. I need you to release my hand so that I can go to sleep."

"What if I wanna hold your hand a little longer?"

"You can do that another time. Now, please let go."

Minho reluctantly let go of Melanie's hand as she moved it back to her side.

"Thanks for the talk, Minho."

"Actually, you should be thanking Chan for agreeing to help me out to talk to you again."

"But I'm sure you're the one that just mentioned Yeon's name and he agreed on the spot."

"Basically."

"Well, thank you, anyways. Good night, Minho."

"Good night, Chaewon. Sweet dreams."

"You, too."

And at that very moment Melanie leaned closer to Minho to leave a chaste kiss onto his cheek before running inside her dormitory building knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to give chase and eventually seeing her flustered look upon doing something like that. Minho touched the spot where Melanie had kissed him with a happy expression on his face while gazing at her retreating figure where she lifted her arm to wave him off without facing him.

[missmeltycat]

Tekken RP-Fic - (ONGOING) - King of Iron Fist Tournament 8

This is an ongoing RP that I am slowly converting into a fic between myself and @thatredheadedchick12

Main Characters:

Bryan Fury (Played by Sydney)

Sergei Dragunov (Played by me)

Raihiko Kobayashi (OC - Played by Sydney)

Rachel ‘Rae’ Taylor (OC- Played by me)

Paul Phoenix (Played by both, mostly Sydney)

Forest Law (Played by both)

King (Played by both)

Steve Fox (Played by both)

Nina Williams (Played by me)

Anna Williams (Played by me)

Lee Chaolan (Played by me)

Jin Kazama (Played by both)

Kazuya Mishima (Played by both)

This will be VERY NSFW, so all chapters will be added under a ‘Keep Reading’ barrier to protect fragile eyes.

NOTE: This fic has tried to keep characters as in character as possible, but obviously with some bending for plot reasons. Some personal headcanons also included.

WARNINGS:

Bad Language

Violence/Gore

Sex/Nudity (Some implied non-con)

Drug/Alcohol/Tobbacco Use

Mild racism

Chapter 1

A new tournament, a new era. The strangest events had happened throughout the world during the last event. With Heihachi reported dead, the tournament had been held by an unknown sponsor. No one knew who, or any of the finer details, just that they would be fighting for a cash prize and possible contract for something much greater. Whatever it was, it attracted the usual crowd.

Rae had heard of the tournament many years before. As a teen she had eagerly watched the events on the TV with her family, but it had not been until the new announcement that she had even considered entering. Her hand-to-hand skills had been pretty weak at best, but she had decided to set a goal for herself to enter. Oh, what she could do with that prize money! She grinned to herself as she imagined a win, cheque in hand, people cheering. She didn't care much about the glory, but the money was certainly enticing.

She had come from a poor background. A small village in the United Kingdom where most people worked their fingers to the bone for enough money to live on and take care of their families. She came from a small family. One mother, one father and her two siblings. They had always struggled to make ends meet, even with everyone working, so the prize money would certainly change everything for the better. So, with the try outs over, the contract signed, she was good to go.

---

The day of the first heat arrived and Rae had flown out to the first location. She had never felt so important. A private jet, free accommodation? It was sweet. At the first stage she sat in a makeshift area that had been erected for the entrants to change, get ready and even train in and was surrounded by so many familiar faces. Ones she had seen on TV so many times. Excitement and anxiety welled up within her. She had never dreamed she would get to meet them, let alone have to fight against them. A surge of panic hit her like a tonne of bricks, as the realisation hit her that they were skilled and she was probably going to get beaten very badly. Despite her training day and night, she still worried that she was not good enough. An anxious sign left her lips as she sat and watched Paul Phoenix train with a dummy, his powerful punches landing in the most brutal fashion.

---

Raihiko was ready. She had been training for years for this tournament and she was finally able to compete. After the preliminaries, she signed the contract and headed to the first rounds of the Iron Fist.

As she walked into the make shift training area, the sounds and smells of the competition hit her hard. She was really here. She was really doing this.

She had never cared for hand to hand combat. She enjoyed the sound of metal on metal, the feel of the steel slicing through flesh. She had been forced into similar competitions, though you won your life, not money. This could prove to be an interesting competition. Hell, the only reason she even agreed to begin training was for the cash alone.

She wore her sparring garb, feeling quite naked without her tonfa strapped to her hips.

She stood and watched as a woman went to town, beating the shit out of a bag of sand. Her clothes were... Revealing. How could one fight in such a garb when there was the lingering fear of your tits falling from your top? She disliked women like that. Half the time they did it to purposefully reveal themselves, either to gain the upper hand or for attention. She sort of hoped she would be fighting the woman today. She could beat her ass and get her out of her sight.

She began walking again, not quite looking where she was going, suddenly hitting a brick wall. Or at least that was what it felt like.

"Oh! I am- uh..." she looked up at the menacing form of a man. If he could be called that. He was tall, severely scarred with white hair and a skeletal mask across his face.

"Watch where the fuck you are going." he grunted as he walked away without another word.

Rae was sat on a small wooden bench, adjusting her knee and elbow pads when she heard a growling voice come from down the side of the lockers next to her. It seemed all the other fighters in the ready room hadn't even registered it. They were obviously used to trash talk and scuffles to the point it didn't bother them. She turned her head and leaned around so she could look at who had complained and caught sight of two extra people. A Japanese woman wearing black attire and a white haired... Monster of a man. Her eyes moved up and down as she noted all the scarring on his chest. Were those bullet holes!? She quickly looked away and yanked on the straps of her elbow pads. She knew who he was now, but he was so much more intimidating in person. Would she have to face him that round? She sure as hell hoped not.

Paul finished beating seven shades out of the training dummy, stretched and made his way over to the bench to grab a towel. After wiping his head and wrapping it round his neck, he let out a hearty laugh. "Nothin' beats a good traning session, man. Nothin'!" Rae gave him a half-smile and straightened her shoulder pads. "You wanna get in a quick practice round before we start?"

Rae shook her head. "I'm, er... I'm good. I think I'll save my energy for the actual match."

Paul shrugged and looked over to Raihiko and gave a wave with his gloved hand. "Yo! Newcomer! Wanna spar some?"

Raihiko jumped as she turned quickly to come face to face with a man with a strange hair style waving at her. Well this just keeps getting better and better.

"I... Would but, I must find my locker and warm up. Perhaps we shall be put together in the ring?" she smiled and waved him off before continuing on. She found her locker, tossing her stuff on a bemch besides a young brunette woman. She shoved her given key into the slot and opened it, tossing her bag in, the destinct clinking of steel sounding within. She flinched as she looked around hoping no one heard. She would never cheat, but she just couldnt part with her beloved tonfa. She slammed the locker shut before shoving her key into her bossom.

Rae stood and kicked the toes of her boots on the floor to make sure they were on right and couldn't help but chuckle as Paul gave an almost defeated look at them both.

"Aw shucks, ain't no one willing to spar these days." He slowly trudged his way over to his locker, unlocked it, reached inside and started munching on something. The wrapper was noisy.

"So..." Rae turned to Raihiko. "You speak English? I'mglad. Some of the people here don't. I was worried I might not be able to at least hold a conversation." She tugged on her gloves and zipped up her blue leather jumpsuit as much as she could without trapping her own skin up in it. "What brings you here? Or should I not be talking to you? I don't even know protocol at these events yet."

Paul peered out from his locker with his cheek bulging. "Nah, s'ok. Itsh good t'talk. Jusht..." He swallowed loudly. "Just pick yer people wisely."

Raihiko slammed her locker shut and sat down to adjust and tighten her boots.

"Hai, I spent several years abroad in the US so I had to learn. Thise Americans. It is a wonder they can breathe unassisted. No offense." she looked over to the man who was stuffing his face with a shrug before turning her attention back to the brunette.

"Kobayashi, Raihiko. And you are?" she asked with a smile. She was weary, but she would be friendly. After all, she didnt want to make enemies right out the gate. Seemed she already pissed off one big ass brute. No sense in pushing her luck.

"Rae... Uh, sorry. Rachel." She offered her hand to shake, but quickly retracted it out of nervousness. "Taylor."

Paul choked on whatever it was that he was eating and pounded on his chest for a moment. "Heyyy, we aren't all that bad y'know! Some of us can breathe just fine! Well, when not inhaling crumbs."

Rae snickered over at the man and he cleared his throat, before turning back to Raihiko. "I saw you almost died a moment ago. Good job on not getting torn to bits there."

Raihiko looked to the American, raising a brow as she looked him over, as though her point was just proven. She then turned her attention back to Rachel.

"What, big bad and ugly? Heh. Yeah. Making friends already. I hope I am not against him. There is something in his eye that isnt right." she shrugged as she stood and straightened her garb. This was going to be interesting.

Rae tilted her head a little to grin at Paul again, then looked back at Raihiko. "You... Don't know about him huh? Well, I'd say there's something off for sure." She adjusted her shoulder pads once more to make sure they were all set and shook her head. "Believe me, facing off with him is something I am NOT looking forward to. He's terrifying."

Paul slowly scooted over and scratched the back of his neck. "Ol' Be-ran there?"

"Oh fuck, don't let him hear you call him that." Rae couldn't help the snorting laugh that came out her mouth.

"He hits hard, but he has his weaknesses. When I faced off with him last I saw that he leaves himself wide open."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, man. He's all about them power hits!"

Raihiko raised a brow as she glanced at the brute. He was currently beating the snot out of a practice dummy. He reared back for a hell of a punch and sand went flying everywhere as the poor thing exploded. Rai blinked before turning her attention back to the two.

"So I take it he is a usual competitor? Forgive me, i have not actually seen any of the fights. My Sensei told me about it a few years ago and began training me for it." she shrugged as she went back to tightening her boots and straightening her attire. "So who else is a returning competitor? Are you?" she asked as she looked at Rae.

She shook her head as she waved a hand in the air to swat away a little dust that had blown their way. "No. This is my first time too."

Paul let out a stifled snort, to which rae responded with an exasperated sort of glare. "Really?"

"Hey, c'mon. I couldn't help it. That one was jess too easy!" He turned to Raihiko and flexed a bicep. "I'm always in these tournaments. I've been comin' since day one!"

Rae snorted. "I bet."

"Ayyyy!"

The two gave a small fist bump, before turning in surprose as the remains of the training dummy Bryan had been pounding was hurled over their heads. It landed in a heap of ragged sack cloth on top of the lockers.

Raihiko quickly ducked in order to avoid getting hit with any flying debris. She quickly turned and glared at the white haired brute.

Bryan grinned a malicious grin as he watched the small group by the lockers. Oh how he hoped he would be in the ring with that red haired jap. Teach the little cunt a lesson for running into him.

Great. Now sand was all in her hair. Rae glared over at Bryan, but instantly regretted it. "Ah shit."

Paul scruffed at his hair and dusted himself off. "Sup?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter. Any ideas who we are against first?"

"I think I saw you were against Christie Monteiro on the roster. I'm against Lucky Chloe."

"Ew." Rae wrinkled her nose. That girl had appeared out of no where in the previous tournament. She was an idol and she disgusted her to her core. "I feel for you, I really do."

Paul let out a very loud, raucous laugh. "Y'think that's bad? I think I saw Raihiko here was pitted against Alisa Bosconovitch!"

Bryan raised a brow as he glared right back at the brunette. Who did she think she was? Glaring at him like that. He held the post to the dummy in his hand, squeezing it tightly and reducing it to splinters before he trudged off to find another to beat the shit out of before the tournament started.

Raihiko looked to Paul, a curious look on her face.

"Who is this Alisia?" she asked as she finished her adjustments and crossed her legs as she sat straight. She didnt like the sound of his taunting.

Rae kept glancing back to Bryan, then to Paul and Raihiko and back again, the fear that she'd well and truly made herself a target sending shivers down her spine.

Paul grinned, oblivious to her inner turmoil and folded his arms. "She's a robot. Pink hair. A bit cringey really. I mean, what does she think she is, some anime character? You'll see anyway. Have a good one, yeah? I gotta high tail it out. I'm up next!"

"Yeah, see you." Rae watched as the skycraper haired man swaggered his way out and turned back to Raihiko. "Well, good luck. At least neither of us are facing 'You-know-who'. I suppose that's a relief, eh?"

Raihiko shrugged.

"I suppose, but i have to go against some Ryuzaki charactor wannabe." she grumped as she looked around realizing less and less people were around. "Are these... Matches... That fast? Want to go watch his? See how this is going to go?" she asked with a smile as she stood and stretched.

"Paul's match? Or Mr Psycho? I'm down to watch both if you are. This will be fun if you've never seen a match before. It'll give you a good feel too." She slowly moved her way towards the entrance and peered out. A match was just about to start. Bryan versus... Was that... "Lei Wulong!? Oh no! This is the worst match up, who the fuck thought this would be a good idea!?"

"Ok so... What does that mean?" she asked as she watched as the bell rang and the brute went in, not holding back as he immediately began beating on the guy. It was interesting watching the man defend himself.

Rae instantly got into it and was ducking and dodging as she watched the pair. "Oh OH NO! Shit!" It took a moment to register that she had been asked a question. "Hm? Oh! Well... The story is Lei has been out for his blood for years. Well, not really his blood. Something about Bryan's past. So the fact they paired these two is a bit silly."

She watched as Lei spiralled around, hugged the floor and jumped up as Bryan threw a powerful punch, then a kick.

He was out for blood. A maniacal smile graced his features as he threw punch after punch. He wanted this mans guts spilled across the arena. He let out a loud battle cry as he threw a kick up, successfully round housing the man across the room.

Lei landed on the floor about 10 feet away, groaning and growling as he struggled to get up, but Bryan wasnt going to let that happen. No. This was personal. He ran at the man, nearly jumping on him, knocking him back onto his back as he threw punch after punch anywhere and everywhere he could connect with above the shoulder line.

Raihiko watched in horror as the savaged man attacked the other... Lei he was called. This was madness. Were there no rules against this? O h wait. That's right. The only rule is no weapons. How silly of her to forget.

It didnt take long for the madman to subdue his opponent. Was he alive? He looked to be breathing, but he was pretty well banged up. Rai gulped loudly as the white haired man turned and headed right for them as people ran in to help the other fighter off the floor. Great.

Rae was still throwing air punches as she watched and letting out the odd 'ooh' and 'ahh'. Lei was battered and bruised as she had expected. She had seen Bryan fight plenty of times before, but something about seeing it all in person made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The round was over, he had won and she almost hadn't even registered that he was stomping thier way until he was almost a few feet away. "Oh fuck. I mean, uh..." She scooted to one side. The last thing she wanted was to end up like Wulong.

Rai had to admit that the young woman besides her was quite the animated one. She quickly moved out of the way, letting the behemoth of a man through.

Bryan growled an "outta my way" as he nearly bumped into the brunette that had dared to glare at him earlier.

"Well ladies." said paul as he stretched his arms up and cracked his neck and knuckles simultaniously, "That would be my cue." he said as he stepped forwards and looked back, finger gunning the both of them as he winked.

Rai rolled her eyes.

"I think i am next, actually." she said as she looked up at the board.

Had she been able to she'd have melded with the door frame as he growled his words. Alas, she couldn't, so had to clench her teeth and scrunch her eyes shut as he breezed past her, the scent of sweat and the blood on his knuckles rocketing up her nostrils. It wasn't until Paul spoke that she managed to shake herself free of the vision of being pummelled into gore.

"W-Well... Good luck, I guess. Though I kinda don't want you to win, since it might mean I'll have to face you further down the line."

Paul offered a wink. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Missy!" WIth that, he was gone, off to face his opponent.

Rae turned to Raihiko and let out a small sigh. "I suppose I should find a training dummy. I didn't want to agree to sparr with Paul, but I do think I should get in some practice. Loosen up. As much as I'd like to watch Paul, I think I'll go do that while I have time. You can join me if you want, or you can stay and study Paul's fighting technique just in case."

Raihiko nodded. She certainly needed to warm up. Especially since she was next and she had just gotten off a plane only a few hours earlier.

She slowly made her way around the corner and to the right where another set of dummies sat. "Oh... Shit."

[peachy-kun]

GX AU Judai Backstory Drabble, Part 1 (aka I Hate Titles)

PG, focused on Judai Yuki right before entering Duel Academia, contains one (1) OC father

hhhhhhhakjsldkfjl so over the years I’ve dabbled in writing random things but never posted anything, anywhere, ever because a) I never finish anything and b) who’d want to read that garbage anyway h a hA

But I’ve been poking at this one for a while now, and I finally just figured why the hell not. It’s a small thing about Judai’s backstory, which is based on the GX AU that @jenasu and I are currently writing/getting destroyed by. It’s a decidedly different backstory for him, but it ties into major AU plot points etc etc. This is only the first half of it, hopefully I’ll finish the other half.........

Some small things to note:

Judai already has had Winged Kuriboh as a spirit friend since he was a babs

This is actually true of Japan, but there are high school entry exams, usually on the same day, and as such most students cram and study to get into one high school of their choice, it’s difficult to try and apply for multiple high schools. But high school isn’t actually mandatory.

I hope this is at least somewhat enjoyable, and please let me know if I should add any tags to this!

                                                        ======

Judai clutched the large envelope in his hands with nervous excitement as he quickly walked down the sidewalk back home. He could still barely believe he had the packet at all; silently, he thanked his teacher for having listened to his wishes and acquired it for him. Glancing down, his eyes sparkled as he looked at the emblem printed on the front, comprising of a large, stylized “DA” - Duel Academia.

His mind was already made up. The exams were only a few weeks away, but Judai was sure he’d manage. The only thing twisting a knot in his insides at the moment, however, was bringing it up to his dad…

“Kuri…?”

Judai looked over to see Winged Kuriboh hovering beside him, concern in his large eyes. He gave him a small, reassuring grin.

“Don’t worry, Aibou! I’m fine!” He could tell his best friend was hardly convinced. When they were so closely connected, it was almost impossible to hide how he was really feeling. Giving a small nuzzle, Winged Kuriboh perched himself lightly on Judai’s shoulder. He wouldn’t lie; it was comforting.

Adjusting his other hand’s grip on the bag of bento he bought for tonight’s dinner, Judai continued down the street until he came to a decently-sized apartment building. He shuffled up the steps, fumbling with his keys slightly, before unlocking one of the doors and entering.

The living room was quiet, with the light of the setting sun starting to filter in through the parted curtains. Judai carefully placed the contents of his bag in the fridge, before unceremoniously plopping himself onto the couch. Eagerly yet carefully, he opened the envelope, and poured over the papers inside. It would be a little while longer until his dad came home. He wanted to be ready.

                                                    ======

"So...you spoke with the school counselor today about high school options, right...?"

The question from Keisuke abruptly cut through the usual silence at the dining table. Judai knew he would bring the subject up, but the suspense had been eating away at his stomach for a while now.

"...Yeah." He hoped his dad didn't catch any of the nerves he tried to stamp out of his response.

Keisuke continued to skim the newspaper he held in one hand for a moment, before finally placing it down on the table and turning his gaze towards Judai with a vague smile.

"I know it seems daunting, but the high school I went to weighs heavily in your exam's favor. As long as you do well there, they won't mind so much about your grades." He'd lost count of how many times his dad tried to reassure him this way. Judai was sure that in his mind, the future was obvious. He'd attend the same high school, then the same university as himself, before ending up at the same company. It was so clear cut for him, Judai wasn't sure if he'd even considered any other possibility.

"I'm sure your teacher can recommend a good cram school to attend." Keisuke continued, though he had already returned to his newspaper. "It'll be stressful for a few months, but I'm sure you'll be fine."

"...Actually, Dad...?" Judai said hesitantly. He gripped his hand under the table tightly, willing his voice to stay even. "...There's another high school I wanna try the exam for."

There was a small pause, though it felt like a suffocating eon. His father then turned a raised eyebrow at him.

"Another high school...?" He couldn't read the expression, but Judai was sure he was already skeptical.

"Y-Yeah...!" He tried to push as much assertiveness into his tone as he could muster. "It's a private school, but if I do well on the exams, I can get a scholarship, so it won't be expensive...!"

"...What's the name of this place?"

Mentally, Judai took a deep breath before responding. "Duel Academia-"

“Absolutely not.” The sudden hard-edged response felt like a bucket of ice water in Judai’s face. Keisuke’s expression had changed to a look of quiet disapproval that was all too familiar at this point. “Judai, I thought we had already discussed this matter.”

“I-If you’re worried about me passing, the exams won’t overlap…!” Even if he knew that wasn’t the reason for his dad’s objection, Judai felt compelled to continue, in the vague hope that the argument he had rehearsed in his mind would move him in some way. “I can still take the other exam if I don’t-”

“You’re not going to any school associated with that game…!” There was a note of finality within Keisuke’s slightly raised voice. “You won’t make a future for yourself at such a place!”

Judai could feel his ears heat up, his desperation instantly changing to a frustrated defiance. He dug his nails into his leg, in a vain attempt to keep himself calm.

“…Mom wouldn’t say that…” The words spilled out before he could stop himself. He was never good at hiding his emotions either way. But despite the minefield Judai knew he just stepped in, he couldn’t back down. Not on this.

“Judai…!!” Anger rumbled underneath his father’s voice, as he leveled Judai with a steely glare. Stopping an involuntary flinch, he gritted his teeth, finally looking up to meet it with a glare of his own.

“You could at least give me the chance! You don’t even try to ask me what I wanna do with my own life!!” He continued. “I know I can be a great Duelist like Mom!!"

With some force, Keisuke tossed the paper in his hand onto the table.

"And what did that do for her? Nothing!!" Judai could hear the bitter edge seep into his father's every word. "I won't have you falling into the same trap as Sayori did! You're not taking that exam, and I won't hear otherwise...!"

Judai looked away, desperately trying to stop his own anger from breaking out. He couldn't say he didn't expect this. He had hoped that for once, however, his dad would stop and actually listen to him. Instead of acting like his mom was gone forever. Instead of blaming everything that made her, that made Judai who they were, for why she wasn't here now.

"...I can take any exam I want." The shake of emotion in his tone was clear even to himself. "And if I pass, I'm gonna go. I've got a right to make my own decisions...!"

A prickling tension hung in the air in the ensuing short silence.

"...Then," Keisuke started with a quiet fury, "then since it seems you believe you're old enough to be responsible for yourself, I assume you won't be needing any of my help paying for the tuition if you decide to go to that school."

Judai snapped his head back to stare at his father, speechless. While Duel Academia wasn't the worst by far compared to some other private schools, it was still a prestigious academy founded by Seto Kaiba, and the tuition reflected that accordingly. Unless he did exceptionally well during the entrance exam and won their best scholarship, there was no possible way he could afford it.

"T-That's not..." Judai stammered weakly. He felt as if the floor was giving out from under him.

"Fair?" The bitter bite had returned more forcefully in Keisuke's tone. "How is it fair then, that I would have to sink money into something that would merely put you in a dead-end?! As long as you're living in this house and under my care, Judai, I expect you to listen to me and the rules that I've set!"

Picking up the slightly crumpled newspaper, Keisuke leveled him with one last pointed look. "This is the end of this discussion. You had better make sure you have plans for a cram school soon."

Despite himself, Judai could feel a stinging sensation well up in the corner of his eyes. With a light clatter, he abruptly stood from his chair.

"...I'm done..." he barely managed to mumble out, before hastily leaving the table, and his unfinished dinner, behind. He couldn't care less about his dad calling out to his retreating back. Face burning up, Judai simply wanted to be out of the room before he lost his composure completely.

The hot tears had already started rolling down his cheeks by the time he collapsed onto his bed. Trying to muffle a sob, he buried himself into his pillow, but it did little good to stem the flow. His father's ultimatum felt like a crushing weight on his heart.

How had things gotten to this point...? Judai remembered a time when his Dad supported his Mom entering tournaments, even took him to see them occasionally. He couldn't understand - why was it so wrong now for him to look up to her as a Duelist, to want to follow in her footsteps?  It was as if his Dad had left her for dead, and wanted to forget anything to do with her completely. The thought made his blood boil.

Slowly, his sobs quieted, until a heavy silence fell in his dark room. Judai rolled onto his back, in order to stare blankly up at the ceiling.

"Kuri kuri..." A sad voice drifted down from the darkness, before he felt soft fur nestle into the side of his face. Wrapping his arms gently around Winged Kuriboh, Judai pulled his friend as close as he could to himself.

"...I can't give up, Aibou..." He finally whispered, voice still heavy with emotion. "I'll become a great Duelist...and find Mom out there somewhere...!"

A long silence passed, before Judai finally sat up, and turned on his desk lamp. Once more, he looked over the papers he had acquired earlier that day with an even greater focus.

He wouldn't let go of this chance. If there was any possible way for him to enter Duel Academia, he was going to take it, no matter what his dad said...!