#that you can create something that nobody would predict and spin it into a really interesting narrative?

[morayofsunshine]

of course i have very loose ideas about what does and doesn't work for ttrpg campaigns bc i love creating characters that break systems

[predictable-affairs]

I ✯A flip of the coin, but both sides are the same...✯

They would have never thought, never expected for something like this to happen. Never, especially from a bride...

Oh, but how beautiful the doomed bride was, falling into the hands of those sadistic boys... And she didn't even last a month, what an unlucky soul she was.

Yet nor her beauty, nor her grace shocked those boys to their core, it was what she left behind. Whilst cleaning, throwing and burning belongings of the deceased bride, the brothers found something rather unsual.

In the midst of a pile of clothes, that Reiji detested every time he saw it, going as far as to threatning the poor bride to clean it. "It's uterlly deplorable and unladylike!" he'd say in his usal stoic voice. "Alright, I'll clean it, thank you Reiji." agreed the deceased girl, always closing the door right in his face. Reiji did threaten to clean it himself, which always got the bride to insist not to, appereantly it didin't seem to bother the other boys. It seems that his threats weren't empty, since he did end up, after all, cleaning it himself.

Oh an what did he, what did they find in tha pile of clothes?

A small, chuby baby girl.

A child of the bride.

She was quite little, but still, perhaps could crawl? Nevertheless, she stared up, with dusty pink cheeks and innocence that only a child could hold,  right at the boys around her, who surrounded her like flies on a rotting fruit. No talking, no crying, no whining, no protesting. Silence and a simple baby stare.

"How did she manage this?", "How did we not notice?!" were the question spinning like pretty ballet dancers in the heads of the vampires, but the most important one - "What should we do?".

A simultaneous question that popped like a red ballon realeasing acusations, opinions and confusion in everyones heads.

What should they do?

"I say we keep it!"

Is the first harsh voice of the fiery Ayato, whose hair could compete with his attitudes ego.

"No way!" next protests Subaru.

"I don't know what you will do, but I will not let... it... grow up among, or become like any of us." continues reasioning the white haired boy.

"Oh, but it doesn't have to grow up a monster, dear brother." interjects another triplet - Laito.

" Yet sadly, I have to agree with you, we do not need to keep another mere human." shrugs the playful boy with an unusual statment, even shocking some of the brothers, but they'd never let their face betray them like that...  

He's usually the one who always wants more toys to play with, like a greedy child or an overworked bee.

"No! You are all wrong!" a fitty contradiction could be heard, almost from afar, or maybe right up close?

"We should keep it. I want to keep it!" the strict tone of voice comes from Kanato or perhaps his bear.

"Why? So you can torture it and turn it into another one of your dolls?" mocks Subaru, his pose getting a bit more uncomfortable.

The purple haired boy is in shock. Gripping his little brown bear, waiting to start a fight. How dare he say something like that?!

"If we are going to keep it, it will not be given to only one of us." interrupts a puzzeled, musing Reiji; like cold midnight water, extinguishing the growing new years flame, whose smoke was creating a violent atmosphere, so thick, that even honey would seem brethable enough to not drown in.

"So you agree, we should keep it?" harshly questions the flaming Ayato boy, his patience wearing thin; though insisde he was quite surprised. Does someone as stoic and stuck up as Reiji really agree to keeping a human and even a baby no less?

"No, of course not." offers no other words the mannered vampire, yet telling nothing new or surprising. Now with his gloved hand, which's white didin't differ too much from the pale of his hands, up to the chin, soothingly or maybe even camingly, carresing the face, helping to dose off deeper into his batteling thoughts of the situation he was put in just now.

"What about Shu?" continues questioning hopefully Ayato, for his prior hope just crumbled to calm ash.

Oh, the indifferent, lazy vampire Shu. The blond one of the group of brothers, the only one not in the circle, the only one peacefully resting on the pink covers of the many deceased brides bed, floating in a dream only accompanied by his music.

Or maybe it's something else, something more that he's listening to?  

Lazily opening one eye, hardly letting the piercing blue thats holds the whole of the ocean and it's destructive tides in it, peak through, quietly resting on the palms of his hands. Just as lazily as he opened his eye, just as slowly did he close it.

"I do not care." in an indefrent tone that rainly mirrors his mood, is the anwser that he bearly pushes out in a rusty, raspy voice, slowly qiueting down like an echo or a shadow in the back of a throat with every simple word. Indefrence - as predictable as Reijis opposition.

And so the question stands unanswered - what will they do?

Oh, the tension is growing thick, thicker than fog, thicker than otmeal.

Though the atmosphere of violence was quickly put out, a one of verbal fighting is about to break down.

Oh, and a fight did ensue.

So much yelling, from Subaru, opposing, not wanting to raise anything among them; from Kanato, wanting company for his bear - Teddy, and someone to dress up; from Ayato, emptily reasoning with Laito and Subaru on why they should keep them; and quiet giggles, yet as strong as others arguments; Reiji kept quiet, still deep in his thoughts.

The fight kept getting louder, like a shopping mall with big sales or a cafeteria with good food, yet it didn't seem to bother Shu, how unusual...

"We are not going to keep them!" like punches, harsh words are thrown around the room, a ball, bouncing off the soothing pink walls.

"So where do you suggest we leave them?!" more questions coming from blank faces with yeling mouths.

"Kill them!" another shout.

"We are not keeping them!" the final word, stern voice of Reiji, slowly quieting everyone down.

Was it confusion that suddenly struck the aura of the room or pure shock, nobody knew, but it did engrain a moment of peace, silence to the room. It's pink walls suddenly started to feel like matresses.

One, two, three... that's the count of a rich waltz, and that's how long silence ruled the room.

A waltz, a single waltz.

Yelling, again, crueller words and oppositions, it's good that the baby can't talk, or else their vocabulary would be that of a sailor.

So much commotion such a war between the brothers, it seemed that the rosy baby no longer exsisted.

And so through the yelling, through the war of unpieced words and calmless attitudes, for better or worse, for against or by Reijis last words - it was decided.

They will keep her. They will keep the rosy cheeked baby.

And so, her adventure began.

"What... is it?" comes a small, tiny question from a unknown asker in a quiet little voice.

Everyone is silent, no one seems to have considered that question.

,,It's... a girl..." comes an equally akward anwser also from an unknown source.

Well, now her adventure can definetly start.

And so she grew up amongst the six boys, each one slowly, but surely taking a liking to her.

Whether it was the messy baths that Reiji gave the baby girl (which infurated him to no end; "A bath is supposed to be clean! How does one manage to make it so messy!" - a frequent phrase circling his brain like a dark taxi), the calming naps, that Shu took with her (annoying him when she cried waking up, to the point where he gave her a nickname to soothe her that sticked to this day), or maybe the play sessions with Kanato (which always seemed to put a giggly smile on her face, except when he got angry, then they'd both have a screaming, crying fit), the reading lessons with Laito (effectivelly putting her to sleep, yet he woke her up everytime and even in the midst of tired crying - he'd continue teaching her to read), perhaps the physical fun with Ayato (not once letting her win any games, even the one where he tought her how to walk. But that doesn't mean that there weren't any, though who is he to ever admit that?) and possibly the gentle feeding of Subaru (who had more trouble with it than he'd like to admit), that made them slowly grow accustomed to her, they will never know.

It seemed that each brothers compliance helped the others in return, like a mirror or an open letter passed around in a circle, each one slowly grew a soft spot, and even, dare I say, some attachment to her.

Such unusual behavior for a vampire (was it something in her or just them growing weak? - no one pondered), maybe thats why they never said a word to their father?

There was one thing the boys forgot to do - give her a name.

When this point was made, another fight almost ensued. Who should get to name the baby and what will they name them - the two mischievous questions that almost started a fight as if it was a race. Yet, just before the whistle was blown for words and saliva to start flying, a name issued, suggested by Laito, caught the attention of many, especially, since Ayato got very insisting on it and with a hiding blush - Subaru quietly agreed on.

The decesion was made, and the vampires named her (y/n).

They watched her grow up, always keeping her company, playing games and teaching what they wanted to. But they weren't the only ones who watched her. She also observed them.

As she learned to walk and speak, as she started writing her name in better hand writing, getting older with each and every birthday, she saw all the brides come and go, the way they were treated and how they never lasted (yet she stayed obliviuos to that she too, was a child of a bride long lost).

Obviuosly not just one or two brides tried to make friends with the girl; sometimes in the hopes of escape or sometimes just in hopes of finding a friend, someone "normal", someone to vent to.

At first (y/n) felt sorry for the brides, consoled them even.

But as time went on, as she kept getting older the reoccurences started to anger her.

She began despising the brides, how dare they speak the most attrocious lies, talk such foul things about the boys?! They would never do things that they vent of! And insulting them that way, it made her want for them to leave faster.

She hated how with each bride she'd get less attention, than when she was alone with the boys. She hated the brides, their lies and pesuasion of escape. Where would she go? And more importantly - why would she go? They were kind to her, good, they took care of her why would she ever want to run. And after one particular incident, an escape in which she was dragged in and almost lost the mansion, her... family, forever! (Y/n) completely stopped interacting with the brides.

That was the childhood of a lost brides child, but her fate, history, was yet to be made.

                                                       ↢ What time is it? | II o’clock ↣

[crystalkleure]

I have a Concept.

BeyBurst beyblades are supposed to burst. As in, it’s actually a necessity. In spite of the Exploding Beyblade mechanic potentially causing sharp little bits of spintop to go flying everywhere and hit people, what if it’s actually a safety feature?

If I recall correctly, all the way back in s1 territory [specifically in the manga though, can’t remember if we saw it in the anime or not], Valt and Shu just straight-up got their original beys from a store. And there are also all of those Unimportant Characters running around with different-coloured versions of preexisting beys. This indicates that beyblades are, in fact, mass-produced and sold in stores, and those are all built to be able to burst. In fact, I still haven’t seen the newest two seasons of the Burst anime yet, but I’m pretty sure super special fancy custom beys, that some important character explicitly made themself, that have some really creative [and strong] anti-burst features built into them, don’t ever show up as NPC recolour beys? In spite of the trend of “random background characters in new season use recoloured versions of Prominent Character beys from LAST season” to me seeming to indicate that those new recolour beys are either bootleg copycats, or those actual official shelf models have just suddenly started selling really well, due to someone having just recently done something cool with one in a tournament/on TV lol. [Anyway, correct me if I’m wrong on which beys get NPC recolours, I don’t exactly actually, uh, pay attention to all the random background scrubs. That point’s not particularly important anyway because I’m sure unofficial bootlegs are a thing that exists, mmmm delicious plagiarism. The point is the stores seem to sell beys with the normal level of burstability. And so I’m only caring about the everyday random NPCs with no names or anything, if another important character specifically goes and painstakingly recreates a bey similar or identical to another important character’s bey just because they idolize that other character, that doesn’t count. That’s not important here, implication-wise.] So...

What if it’s actually a really bad thing that people keep making their own custom beys now that are increasingly more and more ludicrously difficult -- or even near-impossible -- to burst?

What if the self-destruct mechanic is intended to be an emergency shutdown switch, and actually really needs to not be subverted? We’ve seen what an adept beyblader can do while running at full-throttle -- they’re dangerous, to themselves and their surroundings. Beys have the power to be obscenely destructive...while they’re spinning and battling, primarily. They are by far the most potent while actively in use. But if they hit things too hard like 3-4 times or so...they burst. Their locks disengage, they fall apart, and thus they are forced to abruptly stop. That makes them theoretically incapable of just rampaging indefinitely.

Picture this: One day, in the probably-decently-distant history of the BeyBurst world, a kid has a spintop. Probably made that spintop themself. This kid, it turns out, happens to be one of the Super Special Powerful Kids, who’s not only REALLY GOOD at using that spintop, they also possess that funny little supernatural ability to accidentally create an incredibly powerful incorporeal monster ghost creature thing with their brain. And because they love playing with their little spintop so much, that spintop becomes the vessel for this Terrifying Monster-Shaped Culmination Of Spiritual Elemental Energy or whatever that they’ve manifested. That’s...good, probably, because at least that means the Scary Monster Thing isn’t 1. just stuck in the kid’s brain with nowhere else to go, which would lead to possession that would decidedly be incredibly difficult to deal with without harming the kid, or 2. funneled into something more dangerous to control, like a car or a nuclear warhead or some shit. But then it turns out that the kid is ABSOLUTELY still able to wreak impressive havoc and cause Large Amounts Of Destruction, even accidentally...until the spintop stops spinning. The Power Level drops dramatically as soon as the demon top is still, and it takes a little while for it to build back up once it’s launched again. But what if a feature is implemented into the spintop that allows it to keep spinning for much, much longer? Or just The Supernatural Monster Power itself becomes capable of sustaining it, through wind manipulation or something?

Now, imagine you’re idk, the government or something, someone with Power and Influence over the masses, and you see THAT happen. Shit, that was just a random kid that did that! Looked like any other kid, acted like any other kid! There is no feasible way to tell a kid with Brain Monster potential apart from other kids who are NOT That Powerful, until a brain monster happens. So, if you can’t predict it, and thus can’t do anything to mitigate the potential destruction on a case-by-case basis...well, how about you convince ALL the little kiddies that spintops are just the greatest thing ever, everyone should play with spintops, AND you ensure those spintops are mass-manufactured specifically to not be able to Hold A Charge for too long because...they burst! You’ve designed them so that violence itself causes them to fall apart and stop to cool down! It’s perfect! That way, anytime an odd mutant child with Brain Monster powers comes along, the chance of them funneling their Brain Monster into their spintop is now Very High, meaning that all the Brain Monsters will hopefully end up inhabiting these little plastic toys that actively inhibit them instead of possessing children or nukes. It’s brilliant!

This does raise some questions, though:

1. What happens when someone’s spintop breaks, and they DON’T get it repaired, after they’ve already manifested a Brain Monster to live in it? Where would the Brain Monster go in that case? Uh oh, demon on the loose? Exactly what we were trying to avoid? Shu’s change between Legend Spriggan and Spriggan Requiem in God does seem to indicate that the Brain Monster probably 1. by default, does just camp out in its blader’s brain until a new Spintop Vessel is created for it, and 2. the Brain Monster itself is probably not actually completely strictly sealed into any bey, because it doesn’t disappear as soon as the bey is destroyed, and it doesn’t stay with an old/broken bey that’s been discarded when a new bey has been made for it. Legend Spriggan was discarded and left on the riverbed, and Spriggan Requiem was then made from scratch, seemingly using no recycled physical parts from Legend Spriggan, but Spriggan Requiem’s bitbeast looks only very slightly different from Legend Spriggan’s. All of Shu’s Spriggans are honestly probably still the same creature, just progressively evolved. I don’t think we’ve ever seen somebody make an entirely NEW Brain Monster that does not resemble their original one, it seems the original simply gets developed more and more. One person apparently only possesses the ability to make a single individual Brain Monster. You Get One (1), but you can upgrade it. But what about Hearts? His Dead Hades, which very much had a Brain Ghost in it, was not only destroyed, but assimilated into Phi’s Revive Phoenix, to make Dead Phoenix. What happened to that situation, over time? We haven’t gotten to see. Is Hearts’ Hades truly actually fused with Phi’s Phoenix, ceasing to be its own entity anymore, or does Phoenix simply very slightly resemble Hades now due to its bey being upgraded with physical bits of Hades’ bey? What if it’s not even POSSIBLE to truly fuse Brain Ghosts, especially without consent? In which case...is Hades itself just lingering around back in Hearts’ brain, waiting for a new bey to inhabit, and Hearts isn’t making one because he doesn’t realize Hades isn’t just Part Of Phoenix now? That sounds potentially dangerous, there’s no more outlet for your Brain Ghost, buddy. I want to see Phi and Hearts again, to know what eventually happened there.

2. Why do the tournaments not actually enforce a rule that says “Your bey HAS to be able to be reasonably burstable”? Chouzetsu Wings and the Mugen Lock System did not equal disqualifications. Has it maybe, over time, been forgotten exactly WHY we Need Beys To Burst? Well, that’s a ticking time bomb, then. How difficult a bey is to burst does seem to directly cause its Potential Destructiveness Levels to scale accordingly. [With somewhat of an exception of Pot and his Pegasus, but it should be noted that Pot was not exactly terribly serious about beyblade initially and yet was STILL considered one of the strongest ‘bladers in the world, GT3 iirc, AND he’s very into the whole “Love and light, chillax, be in-tune with yourself and all the energy in and around you, etc.” peaceful thing.] This HAS To Be A Problem. Why is nobody concerned.

3. ...What is causing the general public not to panic about this? Why are people okay with Brain Ghost and Mass Spintop Destruction happening, instead of terrified? This shit is broadcast on TV. The stands during tournaments are packed with spectators. It may be that perhaps not everybody can SEE the Brain Ghosts themselves [and I’m skeptical about that, because there have absolutely been MANY indications that other people know what someone’s bitbeast looks like], but the Big Bada Booms they cause are DAMN sure Highly Visible. Aiga’s father seems to be the only one truly properly concerned about the incredible mass-destructive potential of the spintops. Realistically, The Salem With Trials 2: Electric Boogaloo should be happening due to the Scary Spintop Kids being Fucking Scary, and sometimes quite clearly even out-of-control of themselves.

Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure this is not a direction canon will ever go in, or I think it would have already done it. I don’t think they’re going to explore this route. It’s a shame I don’t have the chops for writing long-haul fanfiction, because if I did I would absolutely be hardcore capitalizing on this idea. This has incredible Worldbuilding Lore Potential.

[raleighcarrera]

falling

platinum | raleigh carrera x mc (cadence dorian)

a little while ago i posted about the idea of a soulmate au where the first words raleigh & cadence say to each other are tattooed on them their whole lives, and this... is that. (for @platinumweekend ❤️)

tags: @choicesarehard ; @empressazura; @emomoustache ; @natesewell ; @zigtheeortega ; @pixeljazzy ; @brycemaloliver ; @grigori-girl ; @dulceghernandez ; @bitchloveskcbaseball ; @withbeautyandrage 

~10.5k words | T

i.

the words appear in looping script on his thirteenth birthday, right on time. they curve along the inside of his bicep, innocently punctuated. what’s your name?

“you got lucky,” one of his older cousins tells him, later, when everyone in his family comes by for cake and to ooh and aah over his new tattoo, “you’ll be able to hide that with a shirt or a jacket easily.”

but raleigh sleeps shirtless every night for the next two years, even when it’s cold, so that the words are the last thing he sees with his head pillowed on his arm before he falls asleep, dreaming of the nameless, faceless person who will one day say them, wondering what their voice might sound like when they do.

ii.

she has a more difficult go of it.

being a thirteen year old girl would be miserable enough without the added pressure of the words that practically feel broadcast across her forehead, most of the time. everyone at school teases her constantly and ruthlessly: say something funny, cadence. go on. tell us a joke!

so it’s difficult not to resent the two words scrawled lazily across her collarbone and the person attached to them, especially in the mornings before school when she’s angrily rearranging her neckline and jewelry in the mirror while the bus idles outside.

very funny. she isn’t, really. she’s plenty of things -- determined and passionate and sensitive, definitely, but... no one’s ever found her particularly funny, before.

and no one seems to understand just how much the expectation of having to be funny, one day, is weighing on her, not even her parents, when she finally works up the courage to squeak out, “but how am i supposed to know what i should say?”

her mom laughs indulgently, like she’s already said something funny. her stomach sinks further.

“oh, sweetheart,” she tells her, “don’t worry, it won’t matter. you just will.”

iii.

people ask him about it. a lot.

it gets difficult to keep it a secret as things change around him, but raleigh’s careful to avoid slip-ups and paparazzi photos and he doesn’t say a word about it in interviews, even when he’s asked directly. he’s never seen without short sleeves on, at the very least, and he doesn’t even tell blair and cameron about it.

he sort of wishes he had, though, because as his life turns upside down and he adapts to a new country with a new set of rules and an industry that makes his head spin most of the time it starts to feel more and more confusing, those three words -- what’s your name?

everywhere he goes, thousands of girls blocking the street scream it at him. so how is it possible that whoever’s waiting to meet him doesn’t already know it?

and what does that mean for how the rest of his life is going to turn out? 

what if all of this -- the fame and the money and the notoriety -- is fleeting, and he’s only a few short years from being completely washed up and irrelevant? what if the day he’s meant to meet his person is so far away that he’ll be completely out of the spotlight, by then, with sunset skatepark playing reunion tours and him having spent most of his life alone?

it’s a lot of pressure, for someone who’s already working their way through such a serious adjustment, and most of the time it’s dizzying, thinking about the fact that there’s someone out there who’s supposed to be perfect for him, when everyone he meets seems determined to forget every word they know other than yes, so they can suck up to him as much as possible.

his teenage years fly by in a whirlwind of mistakes and regrets. there’s things he would’ve never dreamed would come his way, like world tours and more money than he can count and so many girls who know everything about him before they even sit down to dinner, but there’s more than that, too.

there’s all the ways the industry weakens his trust until it’s gone, all the people who try to use him for what he can do for them, all the times he stumbles until he finally learns to distance himself by cultivating a persona, by leaning into all the expectations of raleigh carrera and creating something so outlandish it doesn’t hurt as much when disaster follows him around because it’s supposed to.

he watches everything that surrounds him turn fake and plastic and puts his energy only into his music, coasting on the rest. the days are less exciting than when he first joined the band at fifteen; he’s a solo artist, now, and most of the time, he’s just trying to get through.

but chaos continues to follow him and eventually his notoriety is inescapable. his first solo album is self-titled and he somehow manages to get a trademark on the word raleigh, as if the name is now more his than anything that ever belonged to the state of north carolina, and part of him sort of expects the words stamped on his arm to change, once he hits one-hundred million followers on his social channels.

they never do, though, and when he’s alone, and the veneer he’s built up for everyone else fades away, he can’t help but to be fascinated by this person who just wants an answer to the question no one else would ever dare ask him.

iv.

college isn’t exactly the fresh start she was hoping it’d be.

she was a loser in high school and things don’t get much better for her even now that she’s with ‘her people’ at a performing arts university she can barely afford, even with two part-time jobs. 

shane is across the country at a proper state school with parties and a social life and lots of friends who aren’t her, and she’s failing her improv class, proving that she isn’t actually very funny at all. 

boys continue to not notice her and patrons in bars continue to turn away from her one-woman performance, her old acoustic guitar the only constant in a life that feels utterly, unbelievably pointless, most of the time.

it’s like she’s drifting through the days, putting her time in at college in the hopes that it’ll fortify her for what’s next -- her big break, the discovery that’ll get her out of that shitty small town she’s been trying to escape her entire life. she writes hundreds of songs about how lost she feels and hates every single one, dreaming of a time when things might be different and she doesn’t have to second-guess every single one of her decisions.

she doesn’t have much of a love life and tries not to think about that, either.

the person on the other side of those two words stuck on her collarbone is probably looking for someone self-confident, who knows who they are and is comfortable with that. they’re probably expecting to meet someone who has their life together, who, at the very least, has a plan.

they’re probably not expecting a talentless nobody screwup like her, someone who tries as hard as she can yet never seems to make anything work.

things don’t turn around after graduation, either. sure, she manages to find an apartment in a building that’s nice enough and uses the last of her savings on the deposit and trying to furnish it, but it’s only a few weeks of trying and failing to secure a regular paying gig performing before she’s back at smoothie star again, begging for her old job back.

and there’s nothing that makes her feel more like a failure than working the same shifts she had in high school. 

as she hums along to the radio on a random tuesday afternoon when the store is dead and there’s nothing to blend, she wonders what mr.-or-mrs. very funny would think if they walked in and saw her here -- twenty-three years old and flat broke, with a dead-end job and a one-bedroom apartment all she has to show for her very expensive and very useless bachelor’s degree.

that, and a notebook full of half-finished songs about relationships she could only ever dream about and an escape from the miserable small town she lives in that feels farther away with every day that passes.

she can’t imagine they’d be very impressed.

v.

raleigh’s life gets monotonous very quickly. the music takes a backseat to the scandals and for a while there’s a predictable pattern of cause trouble, clean up image, rinse and repeat.

there are girls in between the cycles to help him pass the time. some he likes well enough and some he despises, but for the most part his management gives their recommendations and he agrees and makes awkward conversation for an hour or two over brunch until it’s time to go trash something again.

things get particularly bad after one minor cruise ship hijacking incident. 

but in his defense, no one ever told him that breaking into the harbor and joy riding was a first-degree felony, worsened by the fact that he’d just so happened to crash the boat into the pier while he was trying to dock it. 

at least he’d been sober.

though a monumental fuck up like this felt sort of inevitable; everyone who knew him probably figured it was only a matter of time before he went too far. how could he not when he was always chasing the next high?

still, the image rehab tour that follows is far from what he’d call enjoyable. he has to cut off all his hair and play nice at industry parties and waste time standing around being seen at charity events he winds up just cutting checks for instead of helping out at.

on top of the miserable community service comes the pr bullshit his team so loves -- dozens of tv appearances back-to-back where he’s herded around all day like cattle, in and out of green rooms with crappy coffee and bad catering.

he has no idea that showing up to be a judge on one in a million is going to change his life. hungover and running late, he barely even makes it to the taping of the semi-finals, slinking inside the concert hall in middle-of-nowhere, usa with a headache and some choice words for whoever thought this was the best way to clean up his image.

fortunately, raleigh manages to make his way inside virtually unnoticed. his phone is buzzing angrily in his pocket -- undoubtedly his manager trying to encourage him to hair and makeup or some other absurdity -- but he ignores it in favor of ducking back behind the line near the auditorium doors, only barely catching the last few words of some catty confrontation between two contestants as he goes.

as one of the girls stomps away, he sees the other’s shoulders slump from behind. “guess i’m not making any friends,” she mutters.

it’s clearly said to no one -- not even to herself, really -- yet for some reason, he can’t stop himself from responding. “where i come from, that’s a good thing.”

the girl’s shoulders straighten, but she still doesn’t turn around. “i’m not trying to succeed at the cost of others.”

raleigh smirks, leaning back against the wall beside his guitar case. “you do realize you’re at a competition show, right?”

“of course, but...” her hair ruffles with what sounds like a huff. she’s still not facing him, staring off at where the other girl she’d been talking to had run away. “that doesn’t mean i’m not rooting for everyone here to share their music with the world.”

“what a sweet sentiment,” raleigh drawls sarcastically, almost feeling a little bad for her and her naivety. this poor girl is going to be eaten alive. “it won’t last.”

her body tenses, her shoulders tightening again. he can almost see smoke start to pour from her ears before she spins suddenly on her heel to face him. 

whatever sharp retort had been on the tip of her tongue gets swallowed with a blink as soon as their eyes meet. something like electricity crackles in the space between them, strengthening the invisible pull he’d felt when he first stopped behind her. instead, she only asks, “what’s your name?”

vi.

the man in front of her snorts. “very funny.”

a smile tugs at her lips. “very funny, that’s a weird name.” this is unlike her -- the quick comeback, the flirting. usually being face-to-face with a guy as good looking as the one talking to her now made her want to wither away and die, but something about the stranger standing before her sets her instantly at ease. “so, are you gonna tell me, or not?”

now it’s his turn to blink at her. a hand lifts to rub at his jaw. “huh. you really don’t know who i am, do you?”

cadence’s eyes narrow as she assess him. there is something vaguely familiar about that crooked grin, she’s sure of it. 

at the very least, it’s an excuse to stare at him, and she does, moving her eyes slowly over the tattoos poking out over his jacket collar, the line of stubble on his sharp jaw, the glint of mischief in his eyes.

her helpless gaping is interrupted by a sudden shrill scream. “oh. my. god! is that raleigh carrera?!”

everything clicks at once. as a wild group of girls corner him, she realizes where she’s seen that smile before -- on just about every tabloid cover known to man, plastered all over convenience stores and the internet with headlines about his latest bender. in fact, she’s pretty sure he was just in the news for something similar -- crashing a yacht or something else ridiculous like that, something that only someone as rich as raleigh carrera could have accomplished. 

then she realizes what he’d said to her, as soon as she’d turned to look him in the eyes. very funny. 

her heart stops. all she can do is stare wide-eyed at him as he dispels the girls clamoring for a selfie, snapping back to the present when he waves one large hand in front of her face. 

“sorry -- what?”

“i said, what’s your name? it only seems fair, now that you know mine, and all.”

“cadence,” she answers numbly, “i’m -- um, i’m used to your hair being longer.”

“cadence,” raleigh repeats, smiling at her, “so you do know who i am.”

“what do the magazines call you again? r&b’s time bomb? puerto rico’s hottest export? you’re kind of notorious.” she blinks at him, then admits, “i’ve heard your songs.”

“seen the tabloid covers too, eh?” the expression on his face suggests he’s almost proud of them.

this is surreal.

“didn’t you crash a yacht or something?” she asks, brain whirring into overdrive as she tries to process what’s happening. he doesn’t seem to have realized it yet, which gives her a moment to gather her thoughts, something that feels impossible when she can’t push the way he’d scoffed very funny out of her mind. 

“or something. insurance paid out a couple million in property damage, but...” raleigh trails off, brow suddenly furrowing. he stares at her silently for a beat too long, then slowly turns a dull red. “hey, what’d you say earlier, again?”

cadence wets her dry lips, trying not to panic. stay calm, she silently coaches herself. raleigh carrera is not your long-awaited soulmate and you are not doing this in line to audition for one in a million. “i said -- what’s your name? and then you said...”

oh god, this is happening. her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she fidgets with the neckline of her top, tugging it to the side so raleigh can see the two words on her collarbone. 

“very funny,” he mutters, “oh, jesus fucking christ. you can’t be serious.”

“me?” she demands, “you’re the one who --”

“next up,” calls a voice suddenly, cutting sharply through their argument, “contestant #9,276.”

her blood runs cold as she realizes that’s the number she’s wearing pinned to her shirt. she can feel herself start to sweat; how the fuck is she supposed to perform like this? she wants to throw up. why did this have to happen to her now? this was her shot -- her one fucking chance --

“hey, easy.” there’s suddenly two strong hands on either side of her shoulders, and she startles as raleigh stares at her from up close, closer than he was just a moment ago. “relax, okay? you’re gonna be fine. you’ve got this.”

“but --” she starts, then realizes her mind is racing too quickly to even articulate what she wants to say. she settles for shaking her head, eyes wide and panicked. “i can’t just -- oh my god, i’m going to throw up.”

“here,” raleigh directs, “take my guitar. prince gave it to me as a birthday present.”

prince?! she mouths hysterically to herself, as he flips the latch on his case open and pulls out the instrument. “how is this supposed to help me?”

“just trust me,” he says, giving her a gentle nudge towards the auditorium, “now go.”

she does, stumbling forward with the most expensive piece of equipment she’s ever held in her hands in her life alongside her, drawing in a deep breath as she makes her way onto the stage.

she can do this.

everything else will have to come after.

vii.

the thing is -- she’s talented. exceptionally so. 

he can tell she’s a little nervous, but maybe that’s just because he’s used to looking out for that sort of thing; he could probably recognize it more easily than the average person would. it probably has nothing to do with who they are, how he notices the nuances in her body language...

her belt is impressive. her voice is stunning, clear and uniquely melodic. his guitar looks spectacular in her hands, and cadence plays it like she’s been practicing on it her entire life. 

he tries his best to look nonchalant, feet kicked up onto the seat in front of him, but when she locks eyes with him from the stage he knows he hasn’t succeeded. raleigh’s breath catches, and he stares back at her, transfixed by the way her dainty hands cradle the neck of the guitar and strum the strings, how her lips purse around the long, emotional high note at the end of the song’s chorus.

she’s really very pretty. 

he’d probably be lying to himself if he said it doesn’t make him a little bit jealous and uncomfortable, watching how she and avery fawn over each other when she’s finished. he’s probably a much better suited match for her, clean cut and pristine as he is. 

he wonders if she’s disappointed that it’s him -- that it’s now, when she’s clearly on the cusp of something great all on her own.

it’s a lot to think about, and so he dips out of the auditorium before she finishes up, rushing outside with his heart pounding. it’s not until he’s halfway through the crumpled pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket that raleigh starts to relax even an iota, and of course that’s when the stage door he’d left propped swings open wide and cadence’s sneakers hit the asphalt beside his boots.

“uh, you can’t just leave me with this thing,” she says, apropos of nothing, and as he stares at her he realizes she’s talking about his guitar, which she’s holding in one hand like it’s a dead fish. “this costs more than everything in my apartment combined, i’m sure.”

he shakes his head at her, laughing as his fingers flick ash from the cigarette he’s holding. “no way -- you should keep it. you two looked perfect together.”

she hesitates, looking down at the instrument again. he can see in her eyes that she’s torn; it’s obvious she knows the right thing to do is to refuse a generous gift from a stranger, but she wants to keep it, and already his mind is racing as he considers what else he could give her that would excite her like that -- a private flight, a tour of his penthouse, a million dollars. 

“are you sure?” cadence asks, without looking at him, and the hesitancy in her voice makes him realize how unsure she really is. she’s the one who’s wondering if he’s disappointed in her.

he licks his suddenly dry lips and drops what’s left of his cigarette to the ground, finding he doesn’t actually need the rest of it, anymore. “positive.”

viii.

they don’t actually get to spend a lot of time together, while she’s filming. she has to focus and it seems like she’s always busy, somehow -- not that she sees raleigh very often in the first place.

the days are spent rehearsing with avery and cramming in as much mentoring as possible, and when she can pull herself away from fiona’s lessons on image to get home at a reasonable hour she collapses into bed pretty much immediately, out like a light from the whirlwind of the day and hardly even aware enough to dream.

but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about him. she does, especially on the rare occasions she manages to catch a glimpse of raleigh walking around in the studio, or on one memorable evening she stays late in the auditorium to bang on the piano keys of the beautiful, enviable baby grand on set and startles to find him leaning in the doorway, watching her play.

it’s all a blur and wildly difficult to process; just when she thinks she has a grip on things she remembers the private moments she’s had with raleigh and her emotions tumble to pieces again as she lets the weight of the implications of what’s going on between them crush her completely.

one moment sticks out on her as being particularly worrisome, insofar as how it bodes for the rest of her life. 

it feels like something significant from the moment raleigh offers to help her warm up; they’ve hardly had a moment alone together in days and she still has absolutely no idea how she’s supposed to talk to him or what she should say, but for some reason the conversation flows easily and she hardly has to think about the (no doubt incredibly stupid-sounding) words coming out of her mouth.

“you’re going to kill it,” raleigh says finally, once they’ve worked through all the exercises in his arsenal, “you really don’t need my help.”

never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine someone like him would say something like that to her. “you think?”

“i know it,” he answers confidently, shrugging his shoulders like it’s that simple. “and you should, too.”

there’s a moment of silence where they just stand there staring at each other, ignoring the restless murmuring of the crowd outside that’s waiting for him to slip into his seat at the judge’s table. she’s effortlessly lost in raleigh’s eyes, so fixated on the intensity of his gaze that she doesn’t realize he’s leaning in closer until it’s too late.

“insurance policy,” he mutters, before he kisses her, hands cupping her face gently. 

for a split second, she stands frozen, shocked totally still. then, her brain reboots enough to propel her into motion, and cadence gets with the program enough to wind her arms around raleigh’s waist and pull him closer and kiss him back, until her heart’s lurched up into the throat she’d just been warming up, pounding relentlessly.

they make out until the roar of the crowd is deafening -- until it’s impossible not to acknowledge it any longer. 

of course raleigh’s a life-ruiningly good kisser. why wouldn’t he be? why should any of this be easy?

it’s only a few simple touches, but raleigh’s mouth leaves her dizzy and lightheaded when she’s supposed to be concentrating on performing, and, independently of the way she’s blinking at him in stupid shock, cadence already knows she’ll never be able to kiss anyone else ever again without thinking about him.

“i have to get out there,” she gasps between desperate presses of their lips against each other, grasping ineffectively at his clothes while his fingers tug her hair out of shape.

“be late,” he suggests, “it always works for me.” 

but she’s not him. she’s not like him -- they have nothing in common. they come from different worlds; they’re two completely opposite people.

and yet every minute with raleigh is like coming up for air after being underwater for years, like the knots of guilt and shame and awkward embarrassment she’s carried around for her entire life without understanding why she has them are slowly starting to undo themselves, unlaced by his careful fingers.

they make it out there. eventually.

before she knows it, confetti’s raining down from the ceiling and falling all over her, and she locks eyes with raleigh from across the room to find his lips pulled into a genuinely affectionate grin -- lips that she’d just kissed for the first time a fucking hour ago and, seriously, what is her life now -- his eyes bright and excited. 

things just keep getting weirder and weirder, but the way they’re beaming at each other like idiots in a room full of thousands, broadcast on national television, too, makes her think things might be pretty great, too.

ix.

it sort of takes them a long time to getting around to talking about it -- the soulmate thing.

it’s not that he doesn’t try. he does, but she’s got a lot going on, these days: a big move and a new record deal and days filled with songwriting and nights out being seen. he’s still on his image cleanup tour, while she’s at it, so his fake smile stays fixed on his face throughout another boring week of restaurant openings and charity events and talkshow appearances before he finally gets the chance to spend some time with her again.

they text here and there, but nothing pans out until the stars align and they manage to slip out of the back door of a nightclub unnoticed together after a night of dancing too close for the comfort of her publicist while avery and the others cause a commotion at the front entrance to distract the press.

she goes back to his penthouse with him. he can’t remember the last time he brought a girl back to his apartment just to talk, and especially not one who spent the better part of the evening in a sparkly minidress grinding against him. 

but here they are.

“so -- how’s the city treating you?” raleigh asks, pouring them both a drink he doesn’t want from the bar cart in the corner of the room for something to do with his hands.

cadence shrugs from where she’s perched on the edge of his sofa, tugging at the hem of her dress. “good, i guess. it’s honestly all kind of overwhelming.”

“yeah,” he nods, passing her one of the glasses in his hands and taking a seat on the ottoman in front of her, close enough to see her face in perfect clarity but still maintaining a distance that he hopes is respectful. “i know what you mean. when i first came here after joining sunset skatepark everything felt so... huge.”

“totally,” cadence answers quickly, nodding in a way that’s almost aggressive. “i mean, there’s so much pressure to deliver an album right away, but i want it to be perfect, and the studio is so different from, like, writing songs in my room at home, and i... i guess i feel kind of homesick, but -- not for my hometown. i hated that place.” there’s hesitancy in her gaze when she asks, “do you know what i mean?”

“yeah,” raleigh says again stupidly, because the truth is -- he knows exactly what she means. cadence has just articulated something he could never quite put into words better than he’d even thought the sentiments to himself. “it’s like... nostalgia for something you don’t even want.”

“exactly,” she breathes emphatically, and then they’re kissing again, and she’s in his lap on the ottoman and he definitely brought her here to talk, for sure, but is it really so terrible if they get a little sidetracked on the way to their destination?

well -- they wind up making out for hours. so, there’s that.

it’s not part of the plan but it’s a hell of a side quest, memorizing the shape and feel of her with his hands while her lips pull every last bit of breath from his lungs, until he’s lightheaded and dizzy in a way no other girl has ever made him, before. it’s to the point where when he finally finds it within himself to push her away, he’s uncharacteristically nervous -- something that’s never happened to him before, not even on the night he lost his virginity.

“i really did ask you over to talk,” he says, voice hoarse.

cadence licks her lips and then beams at him, eyes sparkling. “i know.” she shuffles delicately back onto the couch, lingering in his lap for only a moment before pulling away entirely. he stuffs his hands under his thighs to stop himself from reaching out for her again. “sorry i haven’t been around more.”

“you don’t have to apologize.” raleigh shakes his head. “i should be apologizing to you, i feel like... i should be the one who’s around, to help you with all of this. or at least -- i want to be. i don’t know if i’ll be any good at it.” 

he blinks, surprised by his own honesty. he hadn’t meant to say all of that, but the words came up before he was cognizant of them and now they’re out there, and there’s no taking them back -- especially with the way she’s looking at him, all soft and sweet and happy.

“well, you don’t have to be good at it,” cadence murmurs, reaching out for his wrists and tugging his hands free so she can interlock their fingers effortlessly. they fit together like puzzle pieces. “you just have to be you.”

x.

her budding relationship with one of the biggest names in r&b doesn’t have much time to bud at all before it’s rudely plucked from the plant and stepped on.

she finds herself blinking at fiona in confusion as the words take some time to process. “you want me to do what?”

xi.

raleigh balks at his manager, shaking his head emphatically. “no,” he spits out, “absolutely not.”

xii.

“cadence, it’s not a big deal,” fiona tells her, very nearly rolling her eyes. “everyone does it. you go on a few dates, play up the relationship for some photos, social media eats it up -- boom, you’re a star.”

“i don’t know,” she answers hesitantly, mind drifting back to the photographers that have already been following her around, screaming about avery when she ducks into the car with him. things with raleigh are... new, and complicated, and do they really need to add public scrutiny into the mix as well? “i just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“it’s a great idea,” fiona sighs, shaking her head. “all our focus groups agree. the label thinks it’s best, what with your single taking so long to put out.” she opens her mouth to protest -- it’s not like she’s dragging her feet on purpose -- but barely has a second to get a word out before fiona continues, “besides, raleigh does this all the time.”

her teeth bite at her bottom lip uncertainly. “he does?”

“of course. chantal clearwater? she was a pictagram model when they met, and now she’s opening shows at paris fashion week. it’s just business.”

it’s not, though. it could never be just anything, for reasons no one else knows about except the two of them, for reasons she’ll never tell. “well... what did raleigh say about it?”

xiii.

“i said no, frank.” he’s annoyed, now, and his manager knows it, raleigh’s arms folded across his chest and his eyes set into a glare. “n. o. no.”

“and i hear you, but is it really the end of the world? she’s exactly what we’re going for, and i know you already get along --”

“which is exactly why i don’t want to do this. so pick someone else. anyone else.” he’s not going to let his label turn her into one of the girls he has to be seen with for fake photos and mutually beneficial positive press. 

for so many years, he’s watched people fake feelings and use each other -- willingly participated in the using himself, too, more times than he can count. he never cared about any of it before.

but being with cadence doesn’t feel fake, and he doesn’t ever want it to. and he knows that if he agrees to this, everything he enjoys about spending time with her will disappear in favor of the ugly, plastic decay that’s eaten away at so many of his personal and professional relationships before. organic, genuine time with her will become strolls near celebrity hotspots, angling just right to help the cameras get the perfect shot. he’ll show up to support her at shows because her publicist called him, and their time together will become some manufactured narrative meant to push their labels’ agenda, until six months down the line they don’t even recognize themselves or what might’ve been if they’d done things a different way.

“look, there isn’t anyone else. her team’s already agreed to it, and i’ve got brunch set up for sunday. all you have to do is play nice for two fucking months, raleigh. is that so impossible for you?”

yes. already he feels a deep-seated desire to go somewhere and break something, to tear through the flower beds in central park with his motorcycle and wink at the cameras when they catch up to him.

instead, he storms out of the office he’s in, and into the sunlight, tugging the hood on his jacket up and melting into the crowd on the corner so he can be as anonymous as possible when he picks up his phone and calls cadence.

“hey raleigh,” she chirps as soon as she picks up, sounding far too cheerful for someone who’s likely had an equally as miserable early morning meeting on a friday. “guessing you heard the news?”

“can’t i just call you to say hi?” he grumbles, ducking his head as he strolls through the intersection with the mob of people crowded along fifth ave, turning down the next side street so he’s alone again, with no one following, just like that. 

“well, you can,” she teases, and some of the anger he’s carrying around with him fades, dissipating into nothing and evaporating like smoke. “but you’re not.”

“no, i’m not,” he agrees with a sigh, shaking his head. “you sound surprisingly cool with it, though.”

“should i not be?” cadence laughs, but he can detect a thread of nervousness in her tone. “i already want to hang out with you. we have the same friends and work in the same industry. we’re... probably going to go on dates anyway, so... how hard can this be?”

god. she has absolutely no idea. part of him thinks it’d be cruel to burst her bubble, but he should warn her, shouldn’t he? 

she sounds so optimistic about it, though. it’s hard to feel anything but hopeful when her voice turns up like that at the end. in the back of his mind, there’s a voice that’s not his suggesting maybe this time, things will be different. 

surely he knows better than to think something as ridiculous as that, though, right? 

“well, i guess it’ll be interesting, at least,” he muses, slowing his steps by the entrance to the subway. 

he’s going to lose his signal just as soon as he heads underground, and he’s not quite ready for that, yet.

xiv.

time with raleigh flies by. 

it doesn’t feel like they’re fake-dating -- they do everything she hopes he’d want to do with her anyway, like go out to eat at fancy restaurants and take walks through the park and bounce melodies for songs off of each other, facetiming late at night from their apartments or on the days he visits her and micah in the studio. 

he’s by her side for the release of her first single, and her first music video, and through it all, raleigh plays the role of the doting partner perfectly, holding her purse on the red carpet and feeding her paella at a strategically-placed outdoor table and fetching her coffee order when she’s too busy to stop writing for even just five minutes.

in the blink of an eye, it’s time to put out her album -- just like that. 

raleigh’s perfectly charming through that process, too. he shows up on time, says all the right things, and keeps a drink in her hand all evening long, so that when she’s finally done making the rounds and can enjoy herself after the entertainment and the networking and the schmoozing she’s giggly and touchy, doing her best to steal him away from the crowd.

“what were your other relationships like?” she asks, half expecting him to brush her off, though he’s always indulged her before. they’ve never really gotten this personal. “fake or... otherwise.”

“they’ve all been fake,” he shrugs, “and i can say with confidence that you’re the best one i’ve ever had.”

“really?” cadence smiles, chin propped up on her hand as she leans over the bar. “be honest. what did you really think, when you realized it was me?”

“what?” he asks, pushing the empty rocks glass in his hands around on the bar top, “you mean this thing?” he gestures at his arm, covered in expensive, custom tom ford, and the tattoo laying innocently beneath it.

“uh huh,” she confirms, “‘cause i was totally like oh shit.”

raleigh laughs, loud and wild, the sound swallowed up by the noise of the party around them. no one nearby is paying them even an ounce of attention, and it’s fun, to be anonymous at her own party, invisible to everyone in the room except for him. “i can imagine. i wouldn’t want to be stuck with me either.”

cadence shakes her head -- that’s not what she’d meant. but before she can protest, he rolls his glass between his palms and thoughtfully continues, “i guess i was a little surprised. it felt like i’d been waiting forever to meet you, so part of me was like, fuck, we’re doing this now? and i never thought it’d be someone so...”

“boring?” she suggests, eyebrows arching when raleigh’s expression immediately twists into one of disagreement, his nose scrunching up with distaste.

“no,” he huffs, “so... good, i guess.” she stares at him as he reaches for one of the waiting tequila shots on the bar, pulling it away from the line he’d set up for the crowd he’d been with before she’d tugged him to the side to talk, leaving the drinks untouched. raleigh knocks the shot back -- no salt, no lime. he’s had twice as many drinks as she has, and she’s definitely feeling them -- she has no idea how he’s even still upright, no worse for wear other than a few slurred words here and there. “but you just are. it’s like every song i’ve ever written was about you, and i just didn’t know it yet.”

the noise of the party fades in favor of the pounding of her heart, loud like a kick drum in her ears. she bites her lip and stares at him, watching as raleigh shakes his head at himself, dazed. “you okay?” she asks quietly, leaning in a little across the bar. 

raleigh’s quiet for so long she has to wonder whether or not he actually heard her. just as she clears her throat and opens her mouth to repeat herself even louder, he nods, reaching across the bar and squeezing her hand before dragging her back over to the line of tequila shots waiting for them to enjoy.

the night is a blur after that, and there’s patches of the evening that are fuzzy in her memory the next morning, but she knows she’ll never forget the gentle kiss goodnight raleigh gives her when he helps her stumble into the car back to her apartment at dawn.

xv. 

things go really well, until they don’t. 

they have a blissful six months together with more fun than he’s ever had with anyone. slowly, he learns every single thing about cadence and returns her openness with honesty of his own -- honesty that feels strange and unfamiliar but weirdly thrilling, in a way, made easier every time one of his stories pulls a laugh or smile from her. 

it seems unnatural, having a honeymoon period that goes on for so long. in the entire time they’re dating, he doesn’t destroy a single thing -- doesn’t even want to, which is the weirdest part of it all. 

there are some moments that catch him completely off guard. more than a few times, he hardly even recognizes himself, she turns him into such a different person. 

he doesn’t hate it, though -- just the opposite, in fact. raleigh realizes he’s really starting to like the carefree, far from jaded person he is when he’s with her, though it only hits him for real when he’s watching her storm away from him on liberty island, eyes fixed on the angry sway of her hips.

he stews on it on the long ride back to his penthouse; the game had, admittedly, been starting to wear on him. but he’d gone along with it because it was supposed to benefit her -- he’d agreed to the stupid public breakup and following the rules and not seeing cadence in public for the foreseeable future because it was what she wanted, and -- frankly, it felt like a stupid fucking decision.

not that it lasts long. he starts texting her just as soon as he’s done washing electralite out of his hair and doesn’t make it more than twenty minutes when they first see each other again at the moda gala before he’s sneaking off with her, ducking under the velvet rope that demarcates the planetarium as ‘off limits’ with her hand tucked neatly in his.

“maybe this is better,” cadence muses between sips of her drink, her eyes on one of the stupid glass exhibits he couldn’t possibly care less about. “now we can just be together -- no pressure. our relationship is ours again.”

their relationship. is that what this is? they’ve spent a lot of time talking about who they are and what they like and don’t like, kissing and touching and holding hands. throughout it all, he’s done his best not to buy into the ‘soulmate’ bullshit too heavily, but over the last few months it’s been hard to deny that there’s a reason he was meant to meet her, that she’s been changing him from the inside out.

“what’s on your mind?” she asks, turning towards him with an open look of genuine curiosity on her face, like she really wants to know. 

“it’s nothing,” raleigh answers at first, reflexively, like he has so many times before. no one has ever really wanted to know. but cadence’s eyebrows arch, and she waits, patiently silent, and then the words tumble out of him. “it’s just that -- my whole life, i’ve watched other people use each other. so many people are just interested in the concept of celebrity status. so i played the game. never trusting anyone.” 

he shrugs. a hand lifts to rub his jaw, and he looks back to meet her gaze just in time to see the little smile playing at her lips, like she already knows what he’s about to say. “but it’s different, with you. you make me not want to be that person anymore. when i’m with you, it’s the only time i feel anything real.”

“raleigh,” she murmurs, her expression flickering before her face does something that cracks his chest wide open. her eyes go all shiny and sparkly and her cheeks crease with a grin, and the way she laughs is so ridiculously joyful the hand he has stuffed in his pocket curls into a fist to stop him from doing something stupid. “i feel the same way. i just... this whole thing, i know it doesn’t always -- work out, but... with you i really want it to. i’ve never felt this way before about anyone, and i think...” 

there’s a pause as her lips purse thoughtfully, and then she says the words that make it impossible for him to do anything but close the distance between them and kiss her over and over again: “i think even without this tattoo it’d be you, anytime, anywhere.”

xvi.

being raleigh carrera’s (real, confirmed, 100%-authentic) girlfriend feels almost too good to be true.

raleigh is... everything she never knew she wanted in a boyfriend, wrapped up into one tall, dark and handsome package, with a loud, goofy laugh and a deep, sexy voice that sends a shiver down her spine whenever his mouth so much as lingers near her ear for too long. 

it turns out that, despite their differing status in the industry and her initial assumptions that they came from two completely different worlds, they’re actually on the same page about pretty much everything. she finds that the pressure of the word she’d held in such high regard for so long -- soulmate -- disappears entirely where he’s concerned because being with raleigh is just fun. 

there’s motorcycle rides and boat trips and hours up late talking about everything and nothing; facetime calls with his mom and shopping trips where the stores are kept open late for them so they can shop alone, in an empty boutique, like every teen movie she’d ever watched growing up.

there’s late nights in the studio and either of their apartments where they both noodle around on their guitars and improvise half-hearted duets, content to just work in the same orbit as each other for as long as possible.

raleigh’s texting one night on the couch in her living room when she plucks out the melody to who i’ll be on her old acoustic, sitting on the floor in front of the tv.

he looks up before the first verse is over. “what’s that one? it sounds good.”

“oh -- just a song i wrote in college,” cadence hums, already downplaying it as she lifts her shoulder in a shrug. “i got stuck, never finished it. ellis made me sell the progress for some other writer to finish.”

he frowns, pushing up onto his elbow. his phone is tossed carelessly somewhere among the couch cushions. “why?”

“because i was taking too long with the odyssey,” she sighs. “it was kind of my only option. it’s weird, though -- thinking about someone singing something that was so personal to me.”

“play me what you had so far,” he says, and so she does, hesitating for only a second before strumming the chords, singing the lines she had slowly. 

when she’s done, she looks up to find that raleigh’s slid to the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees as he leans in as close as he can get with the coffee table in his way. “okay -- that was beautiful. you should finish it.”

she shakes her head, setting her guitar down. “i can’t. they already sold it. and even if i wanted to... i don’t know how it ends.”

raleigh’s legs spread in invitation and she stands to walk around to the couch, slipping into his lap and leaning back against his chest. his hands are tender as he rubs them across her shoulders, sliding up her back before one lifts to brush a lock of hair back behind her ear, his pointer finger pushing her glasses up her nose affectionately. “maybe one day you can write something else with the same theme,” he suggests, and she tries her best to smile even though it feels like a dream lost, somehow -- a ridiculous thought, given that she pretty much has everything she ever wanted, but the way she feels all the same.

“maybe,” she sighs, the kiss he drops to her forehead a bandaid on a wound that’s been doing its best to heal for what feels like her entire life.

xvii.

he’s never brought a date to the vinyls before. 

there’s been plenty of after parties he’s stumbled out of with a girl on his arm, sure, but cadence is the first person to sit by his side during the ceremony, and he’s surprised by how much he likes having her next to him.

then again, he’s self aware enough to realize he’d like being pretty much anywhere, with her.

still -- the awards are a lot less boring with her around to kiss and stroke his hair and make snide commentary about the rest of the attendees with, and when she squeezes his hand goodbye to rush backstage and get ready for her performance he misses her instantly.

what happens next makes him endlessly regretful of the fact that he’s not backstage with her.

he rushes around just as soon as he can, pushing his way through security and frantically scrambling technical assistants to find her exactly where he thought he might, between ellis knight and fiona, looking lost with her head in her hands.

she seems equal parts broken and pissed in a way that tugs at his heartstrings and makes him a little bit proud. raleigh shoves through the crowd to get to her and slips an arm around her waist. he’s only caught the tail end of the conversation they’re all having, but he knows enough to know that “you can’t bench her. that’s bull.”

ultimately, though, it doesn’t matter how much they stomp their feet. she’s under contract, their hands are tied, and he walks away seething at the unfairness of it all, this shitty industry that’s turned on her when all she ever wanted to do was make music.

she cries in the car back to her apartment to pack her things. there’s no way he’s letting her go home to iowa or idaho or indiana without him, and he barks at his team over the phone until they agree to move his appearances around so he can make that happen, his free hand clasped tightly in hers until he physically has to let her go so she can unlock her front door with trembling fingers.

cadence tosses clothes haphazardly onto the bed and he silently and precisely moves to folds each piece for her, until she gives up and sinks down onto the edge of the mattress, defeated. 

wide eyes filled with tears lock onto his, and he watches her bottom lip wobble before she says, “you really don’t have to do this. come with me, i mean. i know i messed up, and -- you have so much else going on. i don’t expect you to --”

“i’m coming,” he states firmly, setting the sweatpants in his hand down and stepping closer to her, sitting beside cadence on her bed. “what happened tonight was fucked up, cadence -- it shouldn’t have happened at all. i’m not going to let you go through this alone.”

“but --”

“but nothing,” he says, and before the words have even left his mouth she’s falling into his arms with a soft sound of gratitude, mashing her face into his chest as she sniffles.

“thank you,” cadence mumbles, sounding so unsure of herself it makes him wonder if she’s ever had anyone show up for her when it mattered most before, or if that’s yet another thing they unfortunately have in common. 

xviii.

raleigh tries his best to cheer her up, but it’s still hard, feeling like she’s let the entire world down. her fans. herself.

there’s something embarrassing about showing raleigh her apartment back home and the person she was before she met him -- all the places she felt most uncertain and where she experienced some her worst self-doubt, the room that still has the smoothie star apron hung up in the closet.

but there’s also something exciting, about being totally off the grid with him. no one knows they’re here and there’s no paparazzi waiting to snap photos of them -- especially given the fact that they don’t leave her building for the first three days she spends moping around while raleigh orders all the takeout he can get his hands on.

it sort of reminds her of when they first met, and there was nothing to do but learn about each other, though now there’s a familiarity to him she relies on, a unique raleigh-ness that feels more like home than this shitty apartment ever did.

still, she struggles, and the weight of the world doesn’t let up until zadie shows up with her fanmail and avery does his best to make her smile with a beach trip and some fancy new toys and a day in the sun with a drink in her hand.

eventually it’s just her and raleigh again, out by the fire after everyone else has gone to bed. her stomach is full of s’mores and her cheeks hurt from smiling for the first time in weeks, and it’s a shock when she realizes she feels content, even after everything that’s happened -- almost as though things will all work out for the better no matter what happens next.

“oh my god,” she gasps suddenly, cutting off what raleigh had been saying as her eyes light up and she hastens to stand. “i’ve gotta -- i need to -- oh my god.”

just like that, she knows how her song ends.

recording it is a process, but raleigh calls in some favors and gets them studio time and agrees to be featured on the song even though she knows he’s still working through a sound change that he feels unsure about.

but it means a lot to her, having him crammed in the booth at her side, singing into the same mic. they sound almost unbelievably good together, too, raleigh’s harmonies on the words that finally resolve that lost feeling she’s been harboring her entire life making something deep within her wriggle up happily, wagging its proverbial tail.

the fact that raleigh remains by her side throughout the entire fight with her label, the long nights of despair agonizing over what her next move is going to be and even the moment where they decide to break into indio, of all places, means more to her than she can ever say. she feels markedly less nervous about the entire thing every time she turns her head to the side and sees him, right there next to her -- right where he’s been this entire time -- smiling encouragingly and squeezing her hand hard in his.

though it’s not until they’re up at the top of the ferris wheel that she realizes how precious what she has really is. it’s not until he looks her dead in the eye and says, with that same soft earnestness he’s awarded her since they first met at the one in a million auditions that feel quite literally like a hundred years ago, “cadence, everything you want is on the other side of fear. and i want you to have everything you want,” that she truly understands that’s what between them is special and rare.

not because of any tattoos, or any preconceived destiny. not because of who they are and their status and the fact that people take pictures of them when they’re out in public together.

but because of this -- all these real moments of genuine connection they’ve been fortunate enough to share since fate threw them into each other’s paths.

“raleigh, i love you.” the words are said easily, not a moment’s hesitation behind them. 

just before she crosses over in the cart to kiss him until they’re both breathless, raleigh gifts her the brightest smile he has and says, “i love you, too.”

xix.

the night is a blur from the moment he first takes the stage with his old bandmates to when he finally finds himself alone with cadence in a rundown old motel a few miles out from the festival in the desert.

he can’t recall ever being so happy, so of course he doesn’t remember every agonizing detail of the evening, though he does know he doesn’t feel the need to have a single beer with cadence around, twirling barefoot in the grass and giggling when she leads him up to the room they’ve borrowed.

afterwards, when they’re sitting on the roof together in the blanket they dragged off the bed, he reflects on the wild year they’ve had with her in his arms, fingertips tracing the delicate very funny scrawled across cadence’s collarbone.

he feels... free. completely liberated. like there’s absolutely nothing and no one that can get to him, now, like he’s untouchable, like he doesn’t care about a single thing that happens after today and how perfect things have been. 

“i think i’m actually freer than i’ve ever been,” he muses, where his lips are pressed into her hair, “i can take my sound in any direction i want.”

“i’m so happy for you, raleigh,” cadence returns genuinely, tilting her head back so he can see her upside-down smile. 

his arms tighten around her. “i’m so excited for what you’re gonna be doing, too. i’m excited for us.”

“yeah,” she sighs, “who knows what’s next, right? now that ellis let me out of my deal...”

he can hear the thread of worry undercutting the words. he shakes his head, hands rubbing up and down her arms. “you can worry about that tomorrow. for tonight, just enjoy the comeback. what you did out there was amazing.”

“what we did,” she corrects, and he blinks up the stars as he realizes she’s right -- they’re a we now. he’s part of a we again, after being on his own for so long.

the phrases bounce around in his head, unfamiliar and foreign. me and my girlfriend, he thinks to himself, cadence and i. we’re going to be late. we’ll be away that weekend. we just started watching that show. we, we, we. 

“what we did was amazing,” raleigh amends, the words slow to come out but feeling right all the same. “whatever we do next will be amazing.”

“absolutely,” cadence confirms, with conviction, like it’s something she believes wholeheartedly.

and though he has no idea what to expect or what it might be, a large part of him is inclined to agree with her -- she’s been right about everything else so far.

xx.

one year later, she’s finishing a set in berlin, the last stop on a sprawling european tour that had taken she, avery, micah and raleigh across the continent for dozens of performances to sold-out crowds of thousands screaming her lyrics back to her. 

if her contract with overknight had been a dream come true, signing to wilshere records is heaven incarnate. cadence’s trip through the u.k. with her new label is proof enough, and the chance to meet new fans with new stories to share that she could connect with is one she’s taken to with enthusiasm, the experience made all the sweeter by the fact that her favorite people get to be by her side throughout it all.

berlin’s crowd is one of the best, and she fully expects to end the tour on a high note, head banging to the last few notes of ‘knockout’ before raleigh’s planned entrance for the last song of the night, so they can sing the duet that’s closed out every show they’ve had on the tour together. 

when he struts out with his guitar, waving and grinning at the crowd, she can’t stop herself from smiling stupidly at him, just like she does every time she sees him join her on stage, every time she realizes that this is their life, that this is something they do every night, now.

though her grin falters when raleigh pauses in front of his microphone and asks, “berlin, do you mind if i talk a little bit before i start the song? no? cool, because i’ve got an important question to ask.”

her eyes widen. cadence’s mouth drops open and doesn’t close throughout the entire speech raleigh gives her, even though thousands of people in the crowd are filming every moment of her gaping like an idiot, snapping close-ups of her shocked face.

the arena practically vibrates with screams when he drops to his knee, popping the box in his hand open so she can see the giant diamond ring nestled inside of it. 

“so?” raleigh asks, and cadence can just barely hear him in her in-ears with the way her heart is beating frantically up into her throat, as wild as the crowd’s raging around them and then some. “whaddya say, babe? will you marry me?”

as if the answer could ever be anything but yes. she nods, laughing as she launches herself into his arm for a kiss that’s too grand to be given on stage, though that’s hardly going to stop her -- not tonight, at least. tonight, she’s okay with the whole world watching their every move, just one more time.

“oh, i don’t know if it’s going to fit,” raleigh jokes as the ring slides easily onto her left hand, amping up the theatrics for the fans still watching them avidly, even up in the cheap seats.

cadence rolls her eyes playfully at him. “very funny,” she praises, and the grin he offers her in return is so loving -- so knowing, with the secret that only the two of them share and every weird piece of their history included in it -- that it takes everything she has to shove him away so they can perform instead of dragging him down to the floor to kiss him over and over again.

clumsily, she flubs a few notes of love who i’ll be on her guitar. from across the stage, between the bridge and the chorus, raleigh jeers, “someone hasn’t learned to play with the extra weight on their left hand, yet, i see,” and when she flips him off while belting out the last lines of the verse, his raucous laughter is all the harmony the final few bars of the song needs. 

[selfless1978]

UNSTOPPABLE

Vicky walked into the lair, her eyes bright and a bounce in her step. He hidden secret had been exposed, and Leo was still firmly by her side. She hadn’t known how much keeping this secret from him had actually weighed her down.

“Hello, Master Splinter!” She greeted him cheerfully as she headed towards the kitchen. Placing the bag of groceries down on the counter. She frowned as she went unanswered. Usually he was quick to respond to her greetings, but not this time. She took off the backpack she had been carrying. It’s contents something she had really wanted to show her lover now that he knew. 

“Master Splinter?” She went looking for the rat dad, and found him by the radio. Listening to the frantic calls between the brothers. “What’s going on?”

“They are out on patrol, my dear.” He still didn’t look from the radio, his tail twitching in agitation. “There appears to be trouble with the Purple Dragons tonight.”

‘Raph!’ Vicky’s attention immediately focused in on the radio. That was Leo’s voice and even she could hear the tense stress in it. ‘Mikey is down! Cover him!’

‘I’m trying! Can’t break through these clowns!’

‘Donnie?’ 

‘A little busy!’ 

There was more, but it was tuned out as her eyes narrowed. “This doesn’t sound like a normal skirmish.”

“It isn’t.” Splinter confirmed. “They stumbled over a major operation. It’s proving- Where are you going?”

Vicky had already snatched a spare radio and a small tracking device and turned from him, determination in her eyes as she strode with a purpose towards her bag. “To help.”

“Vicky, I can not and will not condone this! It is far to dangerous!”

The tall brunette snatched up her bag, opening it even as she turned to face Splinter. “All due respect, Master Splinter, but I’m not one of your sons. I’m going.” She yanked out what she had in the bag and began changing even as she stomped towards the garage.

Leaving a dumbfounded and frustrated rat behind.

All smiles, I know what it takes to fool this town I'll do it 'til the sun goes down and all through the night time Oh yeah Oh yeah, I'll tell you what you wanna hear Leave my sunglasses on while I shed a tear It's never the right time

She threw the bag to the side as she walked determinedly on. The clothes now sliding over her skin were old companions. And the unconventional belt clasp around her waist was an old friend. She was just as comfortable in this get up as she was in normal street clothes. The final touch was braiding her long hair to keep it out of her face.

Yeah, yeahI put my armor on, show you how strong how I am I put my armor on, I'll show you that I am

Mere moments later the motorcycle flared to life and she put the red helmet on. She hoped Raph wouldn’t mind...too much. Her now booted, not her usual sneakers, foot stayed planted firmly on the ground as the bike spun around. Smoke coming up from the hard surface wafted up around the black cargo pants she wore before the bike leaped forward. 

She leaned over the bike as she raced towards the exit. The black skin tight swear she wore offering no resistance against the wind as he long braid flew behind her. At her hips, something that had been very meticulously crafted for her, and something she would need.

I'm unstoppable I'm a Porsche with no brakes I'm invincible Yeah, I win every single game

The borrowed Ducati shot out of the tunnel, popping a wheelie before it roared out into the night. She pushed the bike on to faster speeds and easily weaved through the traffic.

I'm so powerful I don't need batteries to play I'm so confident

With her secret revealed, there wasn’t the slightest bit of hesitation in her. She knew this life, she welcomed this life. She was comfortable with this life. 

Leo had been there through so much with her, all of her hurt and pain had been eased at his hands. Now it was her turn to show her love and dedication.

Yeah, I'm unstoppable today Unstoppable today Unstoppable today Unstoppable today I'm unstoppable today

“Leo! We’re surrounded!” Donnie snapped out, even as he finally was able to get to his brother. Mikey was groaning and holding the back of his head, dazed, but he seemed otherwise to be alright.

Their predicament was anything but.

“What’s the matter, freaks?” Hun grinned maliciously as he walked up, knuckles cracking in his large beefcake hands. “Thought I wouldn’t expect you this time?”

“Your tactics are becoming pathetically predictable.” Stockman grinned from the side. “My genius was easily able to predict your arrival.”

“Oh, shut up.” Raph rolled his eyes. “Even idiots get a lucky break.”

“Idiot!?” Stockman flared. “I’ll have you know my IQ is-”

“Nobody cares!” All the turtles chimed together.

Stockman huffed as Leo frantically tried to find a way out of the situation. These two had obviously been well prepared. Blue eyes searched for some kind of opening in the mass of bodies around them.

Then he blinked in surprise. On the far side, rapidly approaching from behind the crowd, a figure was crouched low over a bike. Bright red helmet clear to see.

“Is that....my bike?” Raph also looked a bit dumbfounded. “That’s my bike! Who stole my bike!?”

Leo began to develop a sinking feeling in his stomach. “Oh no....”

Break down, only alone I will cry on out You'll never see what's hiding out Hiding out deep down

The bike didn’t make any move to slow down. The rider waited until literally the last moment before launching herself high into the air. The bike smashed hard into the crowd, taking out a fair amount of bodies. 

Yeah, yeah I know, I've heard that to let your feelings go Is the only way to make friendships grow But I'm too afraid now Yeah, yeah

The helmet came off of the figure in midair. Vicky’s glare washed over the group of baddies before she easily landed, the helmet in her hand her first weapon as she swung it around her, knocking the closest circle out before she almost viscously chucked it at Hun’s head. She watched impassively as it bounced off of his thick skull, cracking in half.

I put my armor on, show you how strong how I am I put my armor on, I'll show you that I am

Now she stood tall and fearless in the middle of the crowd, her hands going to the curious objects at her hips, pulling them out. Then she pressed a button on each one and they snapped to their full length. The asps spun in her fingers, obviously she was comfortable using the oddly colored weapons. One blue wrapped in a red vine and leaf pattern, the other purple with orange. 

“Let’s dance, fuckheads.”

I'm unstoppable I'm a Porsche with no breaks I'm invincible Yeah, I win every single game

“Get her!” Hun bellowed, and a sizable number tried to do just that.

Keyword here is, tried.

Vicky exploded into motion. Her asps came up in a blocking maneuver to block a punch even as her leg kicked out to nail him in the stomach. She flipped horizontally over his bent body before landing on his other side, now kicking him in the side and into the group. Her elbow slammed into the neck of the one coming up behind her, sending him sprawling before her foot came up and around. Connecting with his face and helping his stumbling along. 

Then she went low, the same legsweep she had used on Leo was now used against the Dragons getting to close to her. 

Leo stared at her, his mouth gaping open.

“Move, Fearless!” Raph slapped the back of Leo’s shell to get his attention. “Ya can wrestle her in bed later, but we gotta get Mikey outta here!”

Leo shook himself out of his stupor and he himself burst forward. Vicky had broken a weak spot into the press around them and he had to help her hold it open. His concern rising when Hun himself was moving in on her.

He blocked the punch from the massive human that was aimed for her head. His eyes now locked onto the leader of the Dragons as they exchanged a rapid flurry of blows. 

I'm so powerful I don't need batteries to play I'm so confident Yeah, I'm unstoppable today

Vicky caught him off guard when she ducked under one of his kicks, then leapt high, her braid trailing around her as she spun. First one, then the second asp connected with Hun’s face before she landed and ducked under Leo’s own punch as it came in. 

And so it continued, the two of them weaving around each other as together they kept the large man at bay. Even managing to drive him back step by step. It was very clear that she was used to this intimate way of fighting. Her movements flowed easily to compliment Leo’s and he began to feel a sense of wonder. How long had she been doing this? That she could move so easily with him, it was as if she knew his every move intimately. They both kicked out together and hun went flying, crashing through his own men and created the breakout opening they badly needed.

Unstoppable today Unstoppable today Unstoppable today I'm unstoppable today

They both held the hole open as Raph and Donnie rushed through. The larger carrying Mikey while Donnie kept the Dragons off of their tail. 

Once they were out of the main press of bodies Vicky leapt up and flipped over a few of the Dragons. Her intent to now retrieve the bike now that the brothers were clear. Raph would kill her if she left it behind. 

Problem was, it was in the middle of Dragons. She just sneered and ran towards them, her weapons held ready in her hands. Once more she whirled, her arms moving faster than they could comprehend as he weapons hit home again and again. she finished off by kicking the final one in the face before righting up the bike.

Unstoppable today Unstoppable today Unstoppable today I'm unstoppable today

Vicky fired it back up and let it spin out around her, knocking more bodies out of her way. She revved it a few times and it shot forward. It circled around the crowd, and she still held an asp in one hand. Her new game was smacking them senseless a she passed them by. 

I put my arm around, show you how strong I am I put my arm around, I'll show you that I am

She knew they were bogged down in they escape attempt because Mikey still wasn’t fully functional. Vicky had to find a way to relieve them of that. Her brown eyes moved rapidly as she tried to figure out a way out of this dilemma. 

Vicky grinned widely when she found her way out. 

I'm unstoppable I'm a Porsche with no breaks I'm invincible

Quickly she collapsed her asp again and holstered it. Her finger dipped into another portion of her belt and came up with a kunai. She held it by it’s point a moment before she flung it, right at Hun’s head.

He squealed and ducked and it flew past over his head. 

“You missed.” He grinned.

“Depends on what I was aiming at.” She smiled coldly.

“Huh?” 

The strap holding the cates high in the air snapped, and they fell. Covering Hun in a mass of broken crate parts when they hit the ground. One lid sliding to form a ramp she had been hoping for.

She pulled the bike up next to Raph. “Drape him over. I got him.”

“But-” 

“Just do it!” Vicky flared. “If this bike can hold your fat ass, it can hold the two of us!”

Raph just stared a moment before he nodded and handed Mikey over. Vicky made sure the youngest was secured then spun the bike around on squealing tires.

Even as she lined the bike up, she saw the crates move. Hun was already trying to dig his way out. She didn’t waste any more time.

Yeah, I win every single game

The engine revved.

I'm so powerful

The bike sped forward, rapidly picking up speed.

I don't need batteries to play

She crouched lower, eyes narrowed as she held Mikey firmly in place

I'm so confident

Vicky hit the ramp, ignoring the pained grunts coming from under the wood as hun was once more squished to the ground under the weight of the bike.

Yeah, I'm unstoppable today

They flew high over the heads of Hun’s men and landed on the far side. The Ducati wobbled a bit before Vicky was able to steady it. 

Unstoppable today Unstoppable today Unstoppable today I'm unstoppable today

“See ya fuckers!” Vicky popped a triumphant wheelie as she sped off with her prize, knowing the brothers would be easily to extract themselves from what was left without the worry of her and Mikey slowing them down. Her delighted laughter trailing behind her.

Unstoppable today Unstoppable today Unstoppable today I'm unstoppable today Leo could only stare as she drove away, his eyes awestruck and completely smitten.

“You owe me a new helmet.” Raph pushed Leo’s shoulder to get him moving. “Yer crazy cookie broke mine.”

Leo just nodded his agreement as he turned to follow his brothers out of the badly backfired trap. Soon, the only thing left was the groans of the downed Dragons, a broken red helmet and a completely confused and angry Hun.

@the-second-circle-of-shell @bushido-in-blue

[mccall-me-maurice]

LOTF Drabbles for every single one of my ships based on songs on my playlist while I wait for the movers to finish

Jalph [Boom Clap - Charli XCX]: “You’re the glitter in the darkness of my world.”

Jack glances at the fair boy’s face from across the classroom. Somehow, even with the disgusting lights the school provides for their students, Ralph manages to make them appear as if they’re worth $100. It’s probably just the way that the redhead views him, only knowing portions about the boy, as if he was glancing through a keyhole. The feelings that boil under Jack’s skin - froth spilling over the edge of the pot and into the fire - consume his every waking day, plague every thought that rushes through his skull. But he has to place a glass lid on top of the water because god forbid anyone figure out that he was in love with Ralph Allebach. God forbid anyone figure out he was queer. Because in the end, he was just a fucked up kid drunk on the love he had for his nemesis. A kid the real world would tear apart, limb by limb.

Rogermon [Walk Away - The Script]: “(S)he finds colour in the darkest places, (S)he finds beauty in the saddest of faces.”

A flower bud sprouts in the garden of Eden, without even knowing that it had just entered paradise. It sinks its roots into perfect soil, the plant itself never realising that it had found a home where other’s didn’t even know of its existence. Simon Cortés was like Roger Volkov’s garden of Eden. Every time the boy created a scar or slashed open a mental wound, Simon was there to heal it. He would administer the pill, absorb the bad things with his own light, stitch every laceration that used to leave Roger doubled over and overflowing with rage. Simon Cortés was an angel trying his hardest to turn a devil to the right side of the coin.

Mauram [The Other Side - Jason DeRulo]: “This could be perfect, but we won’t know unless we try.”

Maurice always felt like there was nothing in the world to fight for. No matter who came in and out of the house inside of his brain, nobody would stay for very long. Nobody could stay for very long. He never made room for anyone in the four walls, knowing that he had enough space for himself and that was good enough. Or, it used to be good enough. But one can only live in a house all alone for so long before they start to long for someone there with them. At the very least a neighbourhood surrounding him, so maybe he wouldn’t be all alone. Which is exactly what Sam Pinch did. He slowly found the materials and built his own residence right next to Maurice’s. A boy who the brunette never wanted to talk to, who he actively avoided at the beginnings of their friendship, had opened the front door and never swung it shut. Because, in the end, Maurice couldn’t call anything home if he didn’t have Sam.

Robric [Capital Letters - Hailee Steinfeld]: “When we lie so still, but you’re taking me places.”

Robert was honestly bored with his life before he met the twins. It was the same daily routine, get up, get ready, go to school, attend choir practice then rinse and repeat. Falling into something familiar did feel nice at times, knowing that every hour of the day was used to it’s fullest and that he could predict when things would get done or when he’d have free time. But the twins brought a specific spice in his life, one that everyone else had failed to do. In the end, it was mostly Eric who forced Robert up and out of his comfort zone, aiding him in more mischievous tasks and generally becoming the brunette’s backbone. Eric was there, in the hospital, when Robert sprained his wrist, apologising profusely about ever making him try to climb a tree to grab an apple. And even in the immense pain shooting through his wrist, he blamed himself for ever doing. It occurred to him then, in the hospital waiting room, that no matter what happened to the two of them, Robert would always find a way to defend Eric. Even if the boy was clearly in the wrong. When all was said and all was done, Eric was the most important thing in Robert’s life. And he was oddly okay with that.

Billiggy [Breaking Your Own Heart - Kelly Clarkson]: “The very thing you’ve been the most afraid of, you’ve been doing from the start.”

Bill can’t remember ever apologising to anyone. For anything. His pride has always been greater than that, never letting the blonde stoop so low as to get on his knees and beg someone for forgiveness. In all honesty, he’s never done anything bad enough to need to beg someone to just let him have another chance. If you really wanted to look at it through a kaleidoscope lens, then one could assume Bill was petrified of hurting someone’s feelings and then needing to apologise. But that heart gripping sensation was something he had to conquer upon apologising to Peter Curtis for past mistakes. He’d known he was probably in the wrong at the time and convinced himself that he was right in some sick, twisted manner. So when he stuttered out the words to try and excuse his behaviour, Bill knew that they didn’t sound as genuine as he wanted them too. But Peter just chuckled and claimed that he had known for a while that Bill didn’t mean it, and out of everyone in the choir to forgive, he was more than willing to part on good terms with the blonde. And that’s how Bill Borg found himself in an unusual friendship with the boy he once called Piggy.

Wilrold [Jet Black Heart - 5 Seconds of Summer]: “But these chemicals moving between us are the reason to start again.”

Of all the people in the world to fall in love with, Wilfred Lucio chose his childhood best friend. And he’s almost certain that Harold Miracle has fallen in love with him too. Between the way he spends every waking hour with Wilfred and how he clings to the boy as if they’re attracting sides of magnets. He’s never that way with anyone else, in fact, Harold gives most people serious attitude when they ask him innocent enough questions. It is almost as if nobody else in this world matters to him quite like Wilfred does. Which is probably why the two do everything together, they’re practically conjoined at the hip. And that’s why nothing hurts the teal haired boy more than watching Harold run off and be free on his own, blind to the fact that his own best friend was drowning in an unconditional love for him that couldn’t be stopped, no matter how many barricades were built.

Perciberry [This Town - Niall Horan]: “And I know that it’s wrong, That I can’t move on.”

Max’s worst fear was always losing Percival. It was always watching the soft smile that breaks out on his face dissipate like sugar in boiling water. So when the brunette comes to Max, tears streaming down his cheeks and nose tinged red from the crying he’s still doing, the boy assumes the worst. For once, his intuition is right. Percival doesn’t give a reason, doesn’t let the other have any insight. Just sobs out a break up and retreats, broken cries still ringing in Max’s ears. Weeks and weeks pass and the boy knows that he’s still in love with Percival, he still loves the way he laughs as if everything is the funniest thing he’s ever heard, he still loves how Percival insists people call him “Percy” because it’s easier for the boy himself to remember. Despite every path Max taking leading him directly to the feet of Percival Wemys Maddison, he knows that deep down in the base of his heart, something made him unloveable. He was the one who tore them apart, he was the thorn in their side. He wasn’t sure how he did it, but he’d lost the one person who swore to love him until death. And Max would still take Percival’s hand and grip it tight if he asked.

Jalter [Use Somebody - Kings of Leon]: “You know that I could use somebody, someone like you, and all you know and how you speak.”

Johnny is one of the only people in Walter’s life who doesn’t judge any of the choices he makes. He tries to advise the boy in the right direction; steer him on the right path, but he will never tell Walter what he can and cannot do. This fact is endearing in a way, making the dark haired boy want to wrap his friend up in a tight hug and spin him around until they couldn’t stand anymore. Everlasting support was something Walter always lacked from others, so getting it from the strawberry blonde just boosted his self confidence and the image he chose to paint himself as. It takes him years upon years of being Johnny’s friend before he realises that the boy was always by his side not because he just wanted to be there for Walter. But because he couldn’t stand to watch the boy do it alone. Johnny has made Walter the centre of his galaxy subconsciously, just letting the raven haired boy become the sun and letting himself revolve around him. But to Walter, Johnny was the sun and he was the moon. The boy would light him up no matter what happened, always shedding the pure radiance of joy onto Walter. He wouldn’t trade anything in the world for the feeling.

[earthspirit10]

Ninjago Angst Week: Day 5 - Separated

@ninjago-angst-week Also late

It’s Jay’s turn now. Skybound was one of my favorite seasons, but also one of the darkest ones as well. (Other than Seasons 8 and 9, of course.)

Trigger Warnings: Blood, implied torture, imprisonment

---

When Kai disappeared, Jay knew that all hope was lost.

They were trying to reach Misfortune’s Keep, which Captain Soto had said held the lantern map to the Tiger Widow’s Island. His head was still spinning from his last encounter with Nadakhan, the information that his wishes (or, more accurately, his first wish) gave him, and stupid, stupid Jay let himself get carried away, causing him to trip over a passing barrel, which left him behind as Kai shot ahead of him.

“Kai, no, wait!” Jay yelled, scrambling to catch up to his hotheaded brother, who was climbing up a building in that scary fast way. Panic bubbled up from his chest. No no no, not Kai, not his brother, not when Nadakhan is out loose. “We’re supposed to stay together!”

But it was too late. As Jay finally scurried up the building that Kai was on, he saw the red ninja being carried away by Nadakhan, before they both disappeared in a flurry of orange dust.

“No!” he screamed, his voice already hoarse from shouting. “Kai!”

How could you let this happen? His mind screamed at him. How could you let Kai separate from you? How could you let your brother be alone with Nadakhan?

Jay stood there for a while, hoping that Kai—brave, reckless Kai, his hotheaded, insane brother—would reappear, having refused to give into the temptation of wishing. Wishing for something more. Wishing to make everything better. Like Jay had. But, Kai was much stronger than him, much more rebellious, much more resistant to these kinds of things, so Jay shouldn’t need to worry, he shouldn’t need to think that everything had gone so downhill in so little time.

. . . right?

But as his other teammates called for him to come down, reporting that Cole had the lantern, Jay had a sinking feeling that the fire ninja hadn’t escaped after all. And that, in itself, was almost enough for him to just give up and let everything fall all around him.

Almost.

(Because if there was one thing he had learned from Sensei Wu, the lesson strengthened by Kai and his courage, it was that ninja never quit.)

When the others asked where Kai was, Jay couldn’t answer. Like the coward he was, he didn’t tell them that he had let Kai go and get himself lost. Gone.

Their most driven and passionate fighter, taken by a djinn.

⸺

When Zane was lost as well, Jay knew that the chances of defeating Nadakhan were close to none.

This time, it happened during a thunderstorm. And just his luck, Jay was the team’s lightning rod. Not that he was complaining—the electricity striking him, traveling through his body, it felt riveting. Energizing. Powerful. As if the lightning itself was giving him strength, as if it was a part of him. Which, in a way, it was.

As soon as Lloyd told Zane to go below deck, panic once again bursted from him, and Jay blurted almost hysterically, “No! Zane— he shouldn’t be alone! We all need to stay together!”

But nobody had listened. And Jay was left stuck on the top of the mast, watching fearfully as Zane followed Lloyd’s orders. He swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut, not even paying attention to the exhilarating energy as a lightning bolt struck him again.

Again, Jay tried to reassure himself. Zane was smart—he wouldn’t make a single wish, not to mention three, so he shouldn’t worry about him disappearing as well. The nindroid would know that more wishes would only mean more pain and suffering, that more wishes would mean another brother lost, that more wishes wouldn’t benefit anyone.

But when the ship crashed into an island, and everyone had noticed Zane missing, Jay knew that Zane had given in. The others knew, too, and immediately, predictably, everyone had blamed him. It’s all Jay’s fault. They’d blamed him for not telling them about Nadakhan before, about his first two wishes, and Jay didn’t blame them.

He blamed himself, too, for being so weak, so breakable. If it had been anyone else, they wouldn’t make the same mistakes he did. If it had been anyone else, Kai and Zane would still be here with the team. Whole. United.

But it hadn’t been anyone else. It had to be Jay, the most expendable and weakest person on the team, the liability, the heartbroken. And now Zane was also lost. Gone.

Their most intelligent and compassionate fighter, taken by a djinn.

⸺

When Jay stupidly got himself captured, he knew that he shouldn’t make his last wish.

He tightened his grip on the mop that he was using to scrub the deck of Misfortune’s Keep as Nadakhan kept blathering on about creating Djinnjago and all that stuff, and then the djinn thrusted his sword in front of Jay. His heart clenched as he could clearly hear the frightened screams of his friends, his Sensei, his brothers, all wanting to escape from their prison.

“Wish it,” Nadakhan whispered, almost as if taunting him, urging him to say the word. “Wish it all away and join them.”

And oh, how Jay wanted to wish it all away, wish himself into the sword, so he could be reunited with his brothers and never be alone with Nadakhan ever again, because if there was one thing he hated more than being weak, it was being separated from his family.

But he didn’t, and he clenched his jaw, tearing his eyes away from the jaded blade.

Even if it killed him inside, he wasn’t going to let the team down. Not again. Not anymore.

Instead, he straightened up, glared at Nadakhan, and did what he did best. He threatened him. He taunted him. He teased about his situation, however dark it was. But he didn’t break, didn’t fail, didn’t quit. Because ninja never quit, and ninja never quit on others.

Jay almost regretted doing all those things when he was thrown into Scrap N’ Tap, some kind of messed-up fighting ring for the pirates’ entertainment.

Almost.

Jay couldn’t help the cry of pain that escaped him as he was knocked to the side. He swore he heard a rib break somewhere, and he pressed a hand to his side, biting his lip so hard that it bled. He wasn’t sure how long he could go, he thought hazily as he sluggishly rolled to the side, too slow to dodge the punch. His head snapped to the side as pain blossomed on his left eye.

Somewhere in his fevered brain, Jay heard the pirates laughing as someone else entered the ring. Gritting his teeth, with one eye closed tightly shut, he slowly pushed himself up, almost falling over again as he tried to right himself.

“You can wish it all away,”Nadakhan taunted, circling around him. Jay exhaled slowly out through his nose. “Wish all the pain away, and you’ll never have to suffer again.”

“Yeah, right,” Jay shot back, though his voice was a little muffled. He spat out the blood, messily wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

That earned him a kick right in the gut, which would’ve only made him double over slightly, but he was tired and angry and sick of everything, and as his legs buckled under him, Jay didn’t even try to catch himself, letting his head hit the ground.

Oh, he did wish he was somewhere else right now, that everything didn’t hurt so much, but he just clenched his jaw and took every beating the sadistic pirates gave him.

⸺

Jay curled up in his prison—because that was what it was, a prison. A cage. It smelled of blood and other gross stuff from previous prisoners that he didn’t want to think about, and again, he almost regretted not saying his final wish, to wish it all away and never feel this pain again. Not just the physical pain, but the emotional pain of knowing that the rest of his team was out there, that they could probably be in trouble and Jay wouldn’t even know it, but most of all, he was afraid that they had abandoned him. That they had left him alone, forever separated from his family.

No. Jay shook his head furiously, trying to banish the thought away. They— they would come and rescue him, right? It was the main reason that he’d held out so long, that he’d refused to give in and break. This wasn’t for nothing, right?

But as the days passed, each one dwindling his chances to escape, Jay could feel his hope fading. Why would his family save him? It was his fault that they were in this mess in the first place, his fault that they’d gone through so much trouble and suffering. He was a liability, a weakness in the team, and if they— if they just, just abandoned him, left him alone in this place, it’d be so much easier for them, right? No mistakes, no blaming, no trouble.

Jay choked back a sob, tears leaking out of his eyes. He really was almost regretting making his last wish.

Almost.

Oh, how he hated being separated from his team, trapped and alone. He might as well be lost to them. Gone.

Their most expendable and useless fighter, taken by a djinn.

[alchemy-fic]

DELETED scenes from 88 and 89

The doorbell rang.

  “MARI, who is it?” Eggman called.

“It’s… it’s your mother and she looks very upset.” MARI answered. “Do I enter lockdown mode?”

“Uh, no.” He escorted the Mobians to the operating room to wash up. He ran to Sheptilah and took her hands in his. “Please. Please be nice to Mama. She’s very abrasive but the sooner you meet her the better. It’s like ripping off a scab. She’ll leave on her own when she gets bored.”

“How bad can she be?” Tilly asked.

Eggman pulled her into the elevator and got off on the ground floor. “Just promise me you won’t hurt her and you’ll be patient.”

“Of course, Ivo.” Tilly cocked a brow.

“MARI, I want all the robots to treat Mama with respect. She’s still family so no blasting her, got it? Just keep her happy.”

“Yes, sir.” MARI answered.

Eggman threw open the door.

Before him stood a shorter, heavy set woman with the same luxurious mustache as her son. Her pink and white dress did not match her oversized teal church hat or her black pumps. She had the same black sclera and red irises as her son and spoke with a deep, booming voice. Her lipstick was expertly applied as was her eyeshadow. In her hand she carried an old, beat up suitcase.

“Mama!” He said through a forced smile.

“Why didn’t you invite me to your wedding, you slime bucket!? Just when were you going to tell me you got married!? ” She hollered. “I had to find out in the Mobius Home For Really Bizarre Mothers from some river rat’s bubbie that you got hitched! Is this the girl?” The woman spat.

“Mama, this is Sheptilah, my wife.” He gestured at her.

“Why does she look like Cher but with the colors inverted? Did you marry some dirty hippie? You didn’t even ask my permission to marry someone! How do I know if she’s any bad for you?”

“Mama, you will be pleased to know that Sheptilah is a  queen .”

“Oh, that explains it. You married a  goth  queen. Who else would mix black lipstick, heavy black eyeshadow and  white hair?”

 “I’m wearing kohl.” Tilly crossed her arms. “It’s my custom, I’m not  goth . My people never invaded the Roman empire.”

 “... Not  visigoths , girl.” Mama looked at her with a furrowed expression, one eyebrow cocked. “It’s like you aren’t… from this time. Nobody calls it kohl anymore...”

“She’s a  real queen… It’s a nation near Iran.” Eggman interjected.

 “Oh,  great  . Why haven’t you taken over the world or gone to war? However many goats he traded for you it was  too many, little girl.” She blew past the couple and trudged into the kitchen to fix herself a snack.

Eggman looked at his wife apologetically.

“That is not abrasive.” She hissed under her breath. “That’s  virulent . Also, I’m worth many, many goats.”

“I’m sorry. I love you, but  please handle her until I’m out of surgery. I’ll make it as quick as possible.” He trotted after his mother.

Sheptilah took her time following them.

    “Mama, I’m about to go help perform surgery on someone upstairs. In the meantime my wife and the robots will take care of your needs.”

“I didn’t raise such a wuss. Go, do your  totally real surgery thing. I’m sure it’ll be all your robots and not your own handiwork.” She popped open a soda and guzzled it.

“Mrs. Eggman…” Sheptilah said, watching her husband leave the room.

Ivo winced and broke into a sprint.

“My name is Sylvia Robotnik! My slimeball of a son changed his last name years ago because he was ashamed of our family name.” She tossed the empty can over her shoulder.

“My apologies, Mrs. Robotnik.”

“You, girl, will call me Madam.” She piled on random ingredients to make a giant, disgusting sandwich.

“Right, sorry.”

“So if you’re a queen why do you live here in this dump?” She knocked the refrigerator door closed with her hip, making the appliance rattle.

“Truthfully,” she hesitated, “I am a five thousand year old queen and my kingdom doesn’t really exist anymore.”

“Of course you are. So why would my loser son marry you? Oh, no. Did he knock you up?”

“Ivo is not a loser,” Tilly grit her teeth, “And I am not pregnant.”

“He’s a loser, sweetheart; but you’re avoiding the question. Why would he marry  you? ”

“Because he loves me?”

“Ivo doesn’t know  how to love! I didn’t raise him to be sappy and sentimental! And what’s he trying to pull by being buff now?” She sat down to eat.

Sheptilah picked up the can and put it in the recycling bin.

“How are you even that old?” Sylvia practically ate the entire sandwich in one slobbery bite without chewing.

“I’m a  witch and I was kept in a crystal for five thousand years until Ivo stumbled upon me and brought me home.”

“Oh, I see. You don’t have much experience with men! That’s why you decided to tie the knot with my loser son.”

  “Madam, I think you don’t understand. He’s built himself an empire and controls almost every continent from right here in this lair with his Egg Bosses. He’s a  literal  emperor. He has a base on the  moon . The moon!”

“So? What has he ever done for his mother?”

Tilly groaned in frustration. She balled her fists then relaxed. “Do you just not like me because I’m  brown-skinned ?”

“What? No, I don’t like you because you’re a hippie! Look at you recycling and cleaning and whatever else it is you do. I bet that ugly garden out back was your idea.”

“Hmm…” Sheptilah mulled this over. She switched gears.

“What?”

“I think you would like something to eat, yes? I make great honey cakes.”

“How good of a cook can you be? You are a string bean.” Sylvia looked her over suspiciously.

Sheptilah summoned a plate of piping hot fried dough and a pot of honey. She drizzled the golden liquid over the cakes and slid it toward Sylvia.

“I am a woman of many talents, Madam.” Sheptilah then summoned gold coins into her hands and turned them into brilliantly cut gemstones. “Your son and I have plans for world domination, we are just busy with other things at the moment.”

Sylvia pushed the plate away. “Parlor tricks. Not very impressive. I’m growing bored with you, girl.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“I want to level this whole island to build a poorly designed parking lot with a ton of toll booths, for one. Then I want that stupid hedgehog caught and killed.”

“Are you talking about Sonic?”

“Yes! That pest! Always interfered when I tried to help my son get ahead in life. Do I smell cookies?”

“Yes, right this way.” Tilly escorted her to the dining room. “I made this tea myself.”

“Brew a fresh pot! I don’t know how long this has been sitting out here; and I want more cookies!” She practically inhaled the plate of leftover madeleines. “Don’t get any of your gross hair in them, either.”

“Right away,” Tilly left for the kitchen with the teapot. She washed it out and gathered some ingredients for a different brew.

Lavender, bergamot, catnip and lemon balm were added and boiled to extract flavor. As she poured the strained, boiling tea into two cups she whispered into one.

“ This tea as it passes lips, shall cause exhaustion with each sip. Every flavor strong and steep shall

curse the drinker into sleep. ”

Faint sparkles appeared as she blew across the tea. They disappeared and both cups looked identical again. Sheptilah turned the cursed tea cup so that the handle pointed inward and she could tell the difference.

She used magic to summon new cookies and brought them to the table.

    Sheptilah placed the teacups on the table with a click and slid the cursed one to Sylvia.

The woman picked up the warm cup in her hands and inhaled deeply. “Smells awful!”

Sheptilah waited patiently for the woman to sip her tea but Sylvia lingered on her cup. “You’re a witch, right?”

“Yes.”

“Can you read tea leaves? I want you to read my fortune.”

“I can read tea leaves.”

“Well, go get some so you can do that!” Sylvia put her cup down but kept her hands on it.

Sheptilah groaned and got up. She retrieved some tea leaves in a slotted spoon and came back. She tipped the leaves into Sylvia’s cup and set the utensil aside.

“What’s in this junk, anyway?” Sylvia took a sip and yawned. “The aftertaste isn’t bad, at least.”

Sheptilah smirked. “Bergamot, lavender, you know… tea stuff.”

Ivo’s mother rested her elbow on the table and leaned her face against her palm, sloppily swaying the

cup back and forth as if she was aerating wine. She watched the tea leaves spin in the vortex she created.

“Feeling tired?” Tilly asked in a somewhat antagonizing voice. Sheptilah sipped her tea primly.

“Yes, it was a long trip up here.”

“That’s too bad.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Sylvia grinned mischievously and guzzled down the rest of the drink. “You’re too pretty for my son.”

 “Hmm?”

 “You’re too  pretty . You’re outrageously skinny, your hair is too long and you wear nice clothes. You’re too pretty for him.”

 “Do you mean to say I’m too feminine?”

 “Too fragile in looks but not personality.” She shot a pointed look at Sheptilah, a broad and evil smile drawn across her face. “I figured you’d try to poison me.”

Tilly stiffened up. She felt her chest grow warm and her eyes become heavy.

“I’m immune to all that from years of eating hospital food but I switched the cups  just in case .”

Sheptilah’s hands went numb. She dropped the cup and it shattered, spilling its cursed contents on the table. Sylvia stood and walked around toward the prone witch without letting the tea touch her.

“Ivo may be an idiot but he’s  my idiot and I know my idiots. I know he’d never settle for anyone who wasn’t as smart and conniving as him; but I’m disappointed with how weak you are. A garden, recycling, being clean and nice? It’s disgusting in all the wrong ways! If you really knew what you were doing you'd have cursed both cups.”

“I eviscerated Katella.” Sheptilah muttered. "I can and will kill  you , too."

“But you healed her and look what happened.” Sylvia pointed to the missing finger.

 “How do you…”

 “I have access to and read the EggNet, sweetheart.”

“How?” She struggled to stay awake.

“My son is predictable and never changed his passwords.” Sylvia gingerly brushed Sheptilah’s hair out of her face. “Are you dying?” The leaves stuck in her teeth made her smile look all the more menacing.

“No… It’s… sleep...”

“Too bad. Don’t worry,  I  won’t kill you.”

KORin entered the room. “Step away, Sylvia.”

“What the Hell are  you supposed to be?” Mama Robotnik rested her hands on her hips. “Some kind of maid bot?”

“I’m the bouncer. It’s time for you to go.” KORin fixed her eyes on the woman.

“Nah, no thanks.” Sylvia walked up to the robot. “Stand down, tin woman.”

“My orders are to protect the family. I am here to protect the empress. Leave.”

“See, that’s the thing. Who is higher up on the rung? The emperor or the emperor’s mother?”

“KORin… it’s okay.” Sheptilah shut her eyes. “It won’t last… long…”

“Are you sure?” The robot stared at the witch.

“Yessss...” She passed out.

“So? What are you waiting for?” Sylvia stomped her foot. “Let’s move the body and get started on world domination!”

 An hour into the surgery things were well underway and proceeding fine.

“Doctor Eggman?” Smiley looked up from his work when he saw the human move oddly out of the corner of his eye.

    The human swayed on his feet. “Maybe I was not ready to come back…” He sat on the floor away from the operating table and rubbed his temples. “Suddenly I’m exhausted.”

Lourdes jumped down and checked him over. “When did you last eat?”

“Not that long ago.” He answered.

“Stay here for a minute, okay? Until you feel better.” Lourdes went back to monitoring Maw’s vitals.

“This surgery is going to take at least five hours and I need you awake to supervise. Remember, if the cybernetics malfunction we could all get sucked in! That sounds terrible.” Smiley dug around in Maw’s gums.

Eggman shook it off and stood. “I’m fine, I think I just had some kind of blood pressure drop. It only lasted a spell.” He stretched until he heard the joints in his spine pop.

“Neurally mediated hypotension!” Smiley looked up. “You were standing still too long hunched

over and watching us. Walk around the room a bit, you’ll feel better.” The corgi went back to his work.

  “Wakey, wakey… your mother in law is ka-ray-zee.” Scourge shook the witch by the shoulders.

Sheptilah snored loudly.

“For God’s sake, lady! What happened?” He lifted her by her hair and slapped her face.

No reaction.

 “I wish I could sleep like the dead.” Scourge slapped his own forehead. “The living, I wish I could sleep like the living… Oh, fuck.” He noticed the cursed tea twinkled oddly in his vision.

“Fuck! Fuck. How do you break curses… shit.” Scourge wiggled his fingers in her direction. “Abracadabra!”

Nothing.

“Um... what did she fuckin’ say once?” He muttered to himself. “Hex breaking… it was some stupid bullshit…oh! Cayenne pepper! Anything fuckin’ spicy.”

Scourge floated into the pantry and knocked ingredients over haphazardly. When he found the pepper he grinned. Grabbing it, he tried to fly out of the pantry only to get stuck with the pepper not passing through the door.

    “Shit!” He struggled to pull it through, the bottle clanging against the metal. “Come. The. Fuck. On! Why does this work with people but not…”

The plastic bottle pulled through but without the powder inside inside it.

“Pepper. Right… that shit wards off ghosts. There must be no ghosts in fuckin’ Mexico...”

 He calmly opened the pantry and tried to scoop up the pepper but it simply passed through his fingers.

“This is so fucking stupid!” He howled.

He angrily floated to the table and picked up Sylvia’s unbroken teacup and poured it out onto the floor. He then went to the pile of pepper and tried to scoop it into the cup with the same fruitless results.

“Fine, we do this the hard way!” He grabbed Sheptilah by the underarms and dragged her to the pile and dropped her face directly into it.

He glowered when he heard Sheptilah snore loudly. After a second the witch sat up sputtering. She clawed at her face, tears streaming from her eyes and mucus from her nose. She vomited up the sparse contents of her stomach.

Scourge calmly walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of milk. He unscrewed the cap and doused Sheptilah over the head.

“What the Hell, Scourge!?” She choked.

“I just saved your ass, Sleeping Beauty. You’re a real idiot for trying to play the evil queen by cursing her tea. You should’ve cursed both cups and not drank from either!”

Sheptilah felt her way to the sink and washed her burning face. “I’m going to become a necromancer just to bring you back to life so I can slap you to death.” She sloshed some water in her mouth before spitting it out.

“The pepper got into my lungs!” She coughed deeply.

“You’ll heal. Listen… your mother in law is nuts! Nuttier than squirrel shit! Kick her out!”

“Scourge, I can’t breathe. I’m tempted to turn my lungs inside out and run them under cold water…”

“Wouldn’t that make you drown?”

“I can give myself gills!” She spat up a huge wad of phlegm straight into the sink and washed it down the drain.

“It’s the only way I was able to break the spell, ya ingrate.” He crossed his transparent arms.

“Thanks.” The burning began to subside. “What’s Sylvia doing?”

“Trashing the place. She’s already bossin’ Orbie and Cubey around and threw around a bunch of furniture; including the sofa.”

“The really big and soft one?”

“Yep.”

“I’ll have her head!” Sheptilah charged off, bumping into things with her eyes red and bleary. “Sylvia!” She called.

“I told you to call me Madam!” The woman shouted back. “I’m in the den, if you could call it that!”

    Sheptilah walked in to see Sylvia moving all the heavy furniture around with one hand.

Holy shit,  she thought.  That woman has the same strength as Ivo!

“So what happened to your kingdom, anyway? If you were a queen we should use this to our advantage.”

“Advantage for what? World domination?” Tilly crossed her arms. Scourge appeared next to her.

 Mama Robotnik let the sofa land with a hard thud. It was moved to the other side of the room blocking an exit.

“Giant parasites we sealed in the moon broke out when your son cracked said moon in half with his nonsense. They’re back and trying to kill everything but especially me. They’re causing all those wild earthquakes.”

“That’s your story?” The woman turned to Sheptilah and stared at her with disbelief.

“It’s true.”

“And how exactly has this prevented you two from taking over the world?”

“Well, we can’t take over a planet if something actively trying to destroy it is in our way. Once we get rid of those things we will decide what we want to do with the empire; but I won’t lie. I am considering expanding it.”

“By how much?” Sylvia cocked a brow.

“I want to convert my pyramid into a base and work on getting a large space station going.” Tilly nodded to herself.

“Small potatoes. Think bigger! Hold the sun for ransom!”

“He tried that once and it didn’t quite work out.”

“Moon for ransom?”

“He already tried that, too.”

“What about all the freshwater for ransom?”

 “Eh, pretty much did that.”

“The planet for ransom!”

“Yep. He did that. That one  almost worked.”

    Sylvia flopped onto the sofa with a disgusted sigh. “But the hedgehog got into the way.”

“Among other things.” Sheptilah stuck out her hip. “Ivo is smart but he often does things without thinking. It’s really not that hard to kill Sonic, he just doesn't want to.”

“See, that’s his problem! He has no killer instinct, but you seem to have a semblance of one.” Sylvia sat up and straightened her hat.

“I have personally executed six people.”

“One of which being the child ghost that is making faces behind your back?” Mama Robotnik smirked.

Sheptilah whipped her head around to see Scourge was acting cute and innocent. She squinted at him before turning back to face Sylvia. “I’m not proud of his death. He’s haunting me.”

“Neener neener nee-nee!” Scourge teased. “Nah, the haunting was revoked forever ago. I’m just here for fun now.”

Mama Robotnik stroked her sizable mustache. “Still, why would my son marry you? More importantly, why wouldn’t he tell me? ”

“Because it was supposed to be a  secret . We eloped. We’re not going public with the marriage until a later date. Trust me, he’d invite the world to come see his splendid wedding and get himself decked out and all that.”

Sheptilah sighed, tapping her upper arm with her fingers.

“We’re on thin ice with GUN because Shadow the hedgehog is my familiar, as you probably know.”

“Shadow? ” Sylvia thought this over. “ Gerald’s  Shadow? I remember when he was this big.” She held her hands apart by about a foot. “He was an ugly baby. He looked like a turd crossed with a raisin.” She grimaced.

Tilly chuckled. “Yes, that Shadow. I guess not everything is on the EggNet.”

“They executed Gerald, his creator, and Shadow works for GUN anyway?” Sylvia grit her teeth and her face turned red with fury.

“Yeah, after they kept him in stasis for fifty years, destroyed his memory and tried to kill him.” Sheptilah shook her head, “I have a feeling he won’t work for them much longer. GUN really, really hates that he’s my familiar but recognizes they can’t do anything about it.”

They stared at each other in silence for a while.

“So who is my son performing surgery on upstairs?”

“Maw the thylacine. He’s one of the Egg Bosses. His jaw is all messed up.”

    “Bah, when will he hire more humans? Who needs animals when you have human beings around? Besides you, of course. You barely count as a human; what with your alien magic nonsense and all that.”

Sheptilah rolled her eyes. “Well, it was nice having you for a visit but now you need to leave. We’re getting ready to bug bomb the place once Ivo’s done with the surgery and no living person can be here.”

“Oh, please! This place is spick and span! Clean as a whistle! It’s disgusting, really.”

“Madam... “

“Take my suitcase.” Sylvia threw it at Sheptilah. She barely caught it, the impact knocking the wind out of her. “And get the master bedroom ready. That’s where I’ll be sleeping. You and my moron of a son can sleep outside in your hippy garden.”

“He is not a moron.”

“He married  you , didn’t he?”

    Tilly adjusted her grip on the suitcase. “Scourge?”

“Yes?” The ghost smirked.

“Take this… and show her to her room.” She handed the spirit the luggage. Scourge understood and grinned at Sylvia.

“Right this way, Your Disgusting-ness!” Scourge bowed in a grand but obviously sarcastic gesture. He grabbed Sylvia with his free hand and dragged her through the walls and out of the lair.

“Don’t let her back in.” Sheptilah instructed MARI. “Please reactivate your and your sister’s bodies.”

“Thank God for you, mom.” MARI chirped.

Scourge came back, very proud of himself.

“Thank you, King Scourge. Fantastic work.”

“I love throwing people out on their asses.” he ‘dusted’ off his hands. “As long as spicy pepper isn’t involved I can do anything I want.”

“You may outgrow that cosmic ‘allergy’ as you get stronger.” Tilly giggled. “But you’ll always be affected by blessed salt.”

“I’m fucked if I ever go into a salt and pepper store.” He gestured like he was hanged with a noose.

 “MARI, how’s the wife doing?” Eggman said.

“She and Scourge just kicked your mom out.”

“It’s nice they’re getting along.” A pause, and then: “Wait, what?”

The lair rumbled.

“Jeepers creepers!” Smiley yelped. “Earthquake?”

“No, that would be my mother.” Eggman sighed. “Finish up with him; I’ll be right back.”

He hurried out of the room.

     “Sylvia!” The witch howled. “Put down the boulder!” She stood in front of MARI and KORin with her arms out protectively.

The hulking woman held the giant chunk of outcrop she broke over her head with little effort.

“No! You will learn some manners!” She broke the boulder in half simply by pulling it apart like stale bread.

“What kind of Mickey Mouse physics is that!? ” MARI cried.

“Girls, go back inside.” Tilly whispered harshly.

“No way!” MARI refused.

“You can’t do anything, MARI. It’s forbidden for you to hurt his family and unfortunately that’s family!”

“But we can still defend you.” KORin said.

“Do so from inside the lair. Maw’s still in surgery and he needs the protection. That’s an order!” Tilly ran in zig-zags, making it hard for Sylvia to aim the rocks. The robots lingered in the doorway before going inside.

    Mama Robotnik threw both stones at the same time, both just barely missing the witch.

Sheptilah looked up at the shadow darkening over her body. It was Mama Robotnik coming in elbow-first with a wrestling slam. Sheptilah, eyes wide, stared up for the split second it took for gravity to pull the massive woman downwards. All at once the air was knocked from Tilly’s lungs and she was seeing stars.

The acrid smell of sweat and cheap perfume was all she could sense. Mama Robotnik stood up and

trotted off to pick another boulder to hurl.

Sheptilah, dazed and unable to focus, was sure she was flattened like a piece of paper. She felt the back of her head, noting her skull was cracked open and chunks of bone floated in brain matter. Warm blood streamed from her nose. She touched her forehead with her fingers, feeling the indent caused by Sylvia’s elbow.

Another shadow descended upon her. She flinched, believing it would be another blow but instead nothing happened.

Small stones fell around her with an almost hollow clatter. She looked up and saw it was her husband who had just punched the boulder to smithereens.

“Mother!” He shouted angrily.

    Shadow teleported in with a massive headache. “Ti-ti! Sorry I’m late; I came as soon as I felt something was off.” He didn’t seem to be too shaken by the image of his witch with her brains out and about. She healed just as quickly on her own.

“Hi, Shads!” She said dreamily.

    “She was rude!” Sylvia said petulantly. “I had to show her who was boss.”

Ivo’s fist throbbed. “You need to leave, Mother.”

Shadow turned to Eggman. “Do you want me to kill her?” He started toward Sylvia.

“Maybe.” Eggman said. “Open a portal to some place far away, if you please.”

    Sylvia protested. Screaming nonsense, she charged at her only son.

Shadow slashed at the air and opened a knot to a mostly deserted beach.

Ivo picked up his mother, held her over his head and unceremoniously tossed her in. He chucked in her suitcase after.

Shadow closed the portal and helped his witch to her feet.

“Where’d you send her?” Ivo asked.

He shook off his headache. “Coney Island, New York.” Shadow smirked.

“This is the second time my brains were on your lawn, Ivo.” Sheptilah frowned.

Ivo looked at his aching fist and saw his glove was torn and bloody. He walked over to his wife and held her tightly. “Why weren’t you fighting back?”

“It’s hard when your brain is trying to reconstruct itself…” She shuddered. “Thank you for… saving my life.” The full horror of what occurred finally hit her and she stumbled.

    He caught her and kissed her cheek. “I’m so sorry I had to leave you with her. I should’ve just kicked her out at first sight. I won’t let her come back ever again. I just couldn’t let the two doctors sit with Maw for that long because the bombs are so delicate sometimes.”

“How did the surgery go?” Sheptilah felt ice cold and shivered.

“Hm? Oh, Maw is in recovery but I don’t care about him right now.” He rubbed her shoulders to warm her up.

“Recovery? Oh, his jaw.” Shadow pretended like he forgot. “You did that today? With your mother here?”

“My mother surprised me.” Ivo huffed. “Had to leave my poor wife with her for four hours…” He rocked her back and forth in his arms.

 “I’m okay, really. The lair is a mess but I can clean it up… I tried to curse her with sleep but ended up being cursed myself and while I was out she was rearranging things.”

“Just rest, honey. I’ll have the robots do that.” He ran his hand over the back of her head and cringed when he felt chunks of brain matter and bone. She was really hurt if the meninges tore that easily… what the Hell did my mother do? He thought. “Actually, I’m going to have Lourdes look you over.”

    “Should I stay?” Shadow asked her.

“Only if you want to, Shads.” She nodded.

“Call me if you need me.” He took a step back and teleported out. A ring of dust was left behind and blew away in the wind.

“I’m so sorry, Tilly.” Ivo hugged her tightly. “I never should have let her stay. I knew something like this would happen.”

“How did you survive your childhood?” Tilly looked up at him.

“I got myself into boarding school and left home at a very young age.”

She buried her face in his chest.

[spiralstarsbloodhearts]

Can you write a angsty d!steven x spinel

As always, thanks for the ask! I hope this is okay :)!

~~~~~

Steven Universe was White Diamond’s prodigy. However, it wasn’t always that way. Born in a Homeworld holding tower, the hybrid son of a Diamond was an anomaly that appalled all who were let in on the secret.

White was disgusted by the half human at first. After finally getting rid of Pink the last thing she wanted to do was deal with another one of her grotesque mistakes. Nobody wanted to look at that helpless, messy blunder of a being. It cried. It pooped. It was seemingly useless. Worst of all, Steven reminded them all of her. So, the unwanted child was passed around amongst the lower life forms, neglected and abused until White finally saw some potential in him at the age of five. When she witnessed his powers realization hit her like a brick. She could give him purpose. She could raise him into what Pink never was. She vowed to be even harder on Steven so she wouldn’t end up with another disgrace like Pink. She set to work on her new project.

Little Steven was groomed just right. He sucked up to White’s attention and praise immediately. The child was starving for it. White was so pleased with herself! She had conditioned the boy to be perfect, she dare almost say as good as herself.

As he grew, Steven was given Pink Diamond’s throne and role. White’s faith in him extended far enough to grant him his own colony. In his spare time Steven liked to collect his mother’s lost belongings. He felt drawn to the collection of strange objects. They rightfully belonged to him.

This is how he met Spinel.

His Spinel.

The poor gem was quite literally ripped from her spot in the ground, traumatically forced to go back to Homeworld with Steven. She begged, pleaded, and sobbed to stay, not wanting to lose her game. Steven was quick to shatter her little world when he broke the news of his mother’s death.

Spinel bawls helplessly at the news and tries to reach for Steven’s arm. He slaps it away forcefully and gives her a dirty look. She whimpers and jolts back like a wounded animal. Steven sighs.

“I’m not even sure if you’re worthy of being in my collection.”

“Y-your collection?” She questions.

“Yeah, Pink’s old belongs. Is it even worth keeping something so broken?”

“Y-you’re going to leave me here too?” Spinel’s breathing becomes labored and she tries to grab Steven again without thinking about the consequences.

“Enough of this!” Bellowed everyone’s favorite teenage tyrant. He slaps her face hard, the clapping sound echoing around them. Spinel finally falls silent, doing her best to straighten out her posture. She can’t look him in the eyes, his glare is so cold that she could freeze over. Seeing Pink’s eyes on Steven after all these years was so unreal. She tries her very best to steady her breathing.

Steven adds a lack of eye contact to the mental list of his “new” toy’s defects. He murmurs to himself about how he deserves better. He starts to turn around just to get a reaction out of her.

“W-wait!” Spinel shouts.

Too predictable. Steven turns his head over his shoulder.

“You don’t want someone to play with?

We could juggle? Color? Play hide n’ seek or tag or or-“ Steven’s toy rambles on desperately.

He sneers.

“You’re outdated. My mom didn’t even want to play with you. Why would I?”

Spinel looks deflated, having offered up everything she knew to get the stoic boy to keep her. She didn’t have the energy for this. She just wanted to cease her pitiful existence and fade away. Just like Pink. Why did Pink get to leave? Why was she stuck behind? She sniffles, holding herself in her own arms since Steven wouldn’t let her touch him.

“So, other than your mediocre attempt at entertaining, what can you do for me?”

“I-I was only built to be good company my Diamond.” Spinel sputters. “I was created for fun.” She fidgets with her hands, peaking over at Steven. He scrunches his face up at the word “fun” like he had never even heard of it.

“Well, you’re doing an abysmal job at that too.” Steven circles Spinel like a predator, analyzing her form. “I don’t want to play anymore. I grew past that. If you really want to make yourself useful I think I can find other ways for you to redeem yourself.”

“Y-yes, I would do anything for you, my Diamond.” Spinel salutes him shakily.

“Anything?” Steven’s lips curl up into a sinister smirk. It was the first time Spinel saw him smile.

Spinel shivers and nods, lowering her gaze. How shameful. Anything to not be left behind again. Besides what could Steven possibly do to her that his mother hadn’t already?

A single Ruby solider was dragged in by Steven’s pearl and tossed on her knees.

“Okay, Spinel.” Steven didn’t even glance as the Ruby shouted out in pain and protest. “I need you to shatter her for me.”

“No.” She breathed out, shaking her head. “I won’t do it! I-I can’t do it! C-can I please do something else for you, m-my Diamond?”

“Spinel.” Suddenly Steven was so close their faces almost touched. “Do you want to go back to the garden?” His breath was hot on her face.

“T-the garden?” The world began to spin around Spinel. “N-no. A-anything but that!” She was sobbing, voice frantic now. What choice would she have? “W-what did she even do?”

Steven shrugs. “Does it really matter? Stop stalling and show me you’re worth my time.” He gently takes her hand and opens her palm, placing down some sort of chiseling knife. Spinel wants to throw it as far away from them as she can, but instead she lets Steven wrap her fingers around the extraction tool. He nudges her forward, waiting for the show to begin.

“Don’t try anything funny, just do what I say or I’ll make you suffer worse than she did.” Steven’s patience is running thin.

She stumbles forward squeezing her hand so tightly around the knife her fingers turn white. Thankfully, the Ruby won’t look up at her so she doesn’t have to meet her eyes. She sobs, lunging forward with a stumble and plunging the knife right at the edge of the Ruby’s gem. The Ruby screams in agony and Spinel’s vision begins to fade. Her body is shaking rapidly and her stomach lurches as Ruby’s gem is forcefully dug out of her form. With one final scream, her gem pops out and Ruby’s gone. The red gem remaining lands with a harsh thud, shattering against the ground.

Steven grins, finally looking pleased with his new Spinel. His smile widens eerily as he watches her collapse to the ground, curling up into a shivering ball.

“Oh. So this is what fun is.”

~~~~~

[rosesandrorys]

✧･ﾟ(   demeter + alexa demie + cis female  ) 𝒎𝒂𝒎𝒎𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒂 !!  have you seen (   veronica “rory” flores ) around ? (   she ) have/has been in kaos for (   two months ). the (   twenty four year old  ) is a/an (   bartender ) from (   los angeles, united states  ). people say they can be (   hot-headed  ) but maybe that’s not too bad ‘cause they can also be (   steadfast  ). whenever i think of them, i can’t help but think of (   iced coffee at nine pm, the smell of the earth after rain, a four leafed clover poking out of a crack in the road  ).  ･ﾟ✧  (  penned by neha, 21, est, she/her ).

hiiiii everyone first of all i am so happy to be here the main is b e a u t i f u l and gives me so much greek god inspo! i’m neha this is my bby rory!! i’m going to add my big bio/about blurb that was in my app so if you want to you can read all about her, but if you don’t have time here’s a little tldr; for you! 

rory is my LA club kid QUEEN, she basically grew up super poor but going to a school wanting to fit in with the rich popular kids, long story short she started selling club drugs n stuff to them, gained the friendship and money but once hs ended it, everything ended and she basically had to start over, only now she had the uphill battle w/ addiction to drugs/partying/bad decisions to also handle! she’s on the island bc her mom met a rich guy and he has a villa on the island he wants her to fix up, which is also doubling as a kind of ‘get clean’ retreat tho it ain’t rlly working even tho sgenuinelynunienly sometimes want to do better. she’s a hustler and has a sharp tongue, but on the inside she has a heart of gold and rlly just wants to be loved for who she is for like the first time ever <3

PLOTTING STUFF: she’s been on the island for two months now, but lil girl is all about having those connections bc she thinks its the only way she can have value (ugh poor kid) so lmk!! they could’ve met through the whole partying/drugs route, at the bar where she works at a bartender, or maybe at the hardware stores that she frequents because she’s fixing up the villa! i have more specific plot ideas but i don’t want to make this post too long so hmu or like this post for me to come to you!! 

ok, that’s my two pieces said, now here’s the longish bio section if you want to learn more in depth about her :)Tw for abuse, drug use/dealing, addiction

B I O G R A P H Y

Rory is from LA born and raised! Her mother is a single mom and it was just them for a long time, with the rotating cast of her mother’s boyfriends. The two could just never seem to get close to financial stability and she grew up rough, never having enough money to keep up with the kids at school, then having to fend for herself once she got home because her mother worked nights.

At home, it all depended on what boyfriend out of the rotation her mother was currently seeing. The best strategy for all of them was avoidance, so Rory spent her days on the streets or at work, never really wanting to deal with the boyfriends. Throughout the years, she suffered abuse and neglect from these men, and though she tried to tell her mother, who was always just a little too busy, a little too high, or a little too blind to the effects. Besides, they needed the extra money that the various boyfriends gave. 

Despite it all, at school Rory shined. She was smart, that much was clear, and she exuded a certain aura of warmth that could make anyone, even the girls with birkin bags and ice cold hearts fall in love. Her school was a dichotomy of rich and poor, and if she worked her ass off and put in maximum effort, it seemed she could fit in with both. But she didn’t want both, didn’t want the stigma of her background to follow her everywhere. She wanted to live in the world of marble countertops and athleisure accessorized with diamonds. So, with extreme effort, she pulled herself up to the social ranks of those girls in school, always going over to their houses to study, pretending she never learned how to drive so that they wouldn’t know she couldn’t afford a car, let alone the mercedes and italian sports cars they drove to school.

But keeping up has its price, and that price began to climb as she was integrated deeper. Rory needed money for twelve dollar salads and fifty dollar spin classes, and the money from her job (which she said her mom forced her to do to learn responsibility) wasn’t cutting it. She was a scrappy kid turned into a precocious young adult and she’d been scrambling all her life, this was just another bootstraps moment. She had the connections from her neighborhood, and what did rich kids like more than drugs? The answer was nothing, and Rory made the leap easily, starting off small and gradually building up a mini drug empire in her high school. She finally had spending money, but more importantly she had friends and people who cared about her, and she wasn’t going to give that up for the world. 

Rory wasn’t dumb, she knew this couldn’t last forever, so she was also making solid plans to further herself in life. But an addictive personality ran in her veins as evidenced by her mother who was addicted to it all - drugs, boyfriends, and bad decisions. The moment it all started to go south could be pinpointed to the moment she herself started to use the drugs. Her friends were doing it after all, and she didn’t want to be a buzzkill. The drugs were an escape from her shitty life that was going nowhere, after all. They let her put on the rose-tinted glasses that she’d been denied since birth, and Rory ate it up. 

But with every ascent, comes a crash and as the lag time from the drugs started to affect her performance in everyday life, grades started to slip, dreams fell to the wayside and prospects started to vanish. By the time she finished highschool they’d say - what a fall from grace. Because she’d forgotten one very important thing. If her friends made a mistake, it could all be very easily swept under the rug and forgotten by way of their parents’ money. Rory, however, had no safety net, and at the end of highschool she was left in the lurch: same terrible grades and attendance as her friends, but no large donations to get her into prestigious schools. Or, for a fact, any schools. She’d peaked, and what followed graduation was a spiralling descent back to where she’d started. The friends she’d been so fiercely loyal to moved on to college and beyond and she was left with nothing but the endless LA party scene filled with people she didn’t care about and worse and worse decisions by the day. 

If it’d gone on for a couple more months, she’d probably have died. But the money started to dry up as her friends left, and the final blow was a drop gone wrong - high as a kite, she’d decided that handing off a major package to a much larger man in a dark alley was a good idea, and the inevitable tussle and robbing left her hurting. She was high and dry with no income and no savings. Twenty-two years old and nothing to her name. It was time for that scrappy kid to scramble once again, but that kid now had a mild drug problem and a chip on her shoulder the size of Texas. 

It wasn’t going to be easy. But one thing Rory was always good at was cultivating her connections. Though her friends had moved on, Rory’s combination of dimples, winning smile, and just enough ass kissing had created just enough opportunities with the people in their lives, and the people at the parties she frequented. She had an in to the rich, and damn if she wasn’t going to exploit it. Odd jobs here and there was her life now, just enough to keep her drug addiction alive, just enough to keep her name in the back of the minds of the wealthy. She knew this would change her life somehow, she just wasn’t quite sure how yet.And who could’ve predicted how it happened. 

It was mundane, a job making drinks at a classy party, one of those ones where the host barely shows up, where the adults sip their martinis and the kids do blow in the bathrooms. The party wasn’t anything remarkable, but what followed was. She was getting picked up by her mother, and the host of the party, a middle aged salt and pepper type man recognized her mother. They had gone to school together or something, Rory was exhausted and didn’t really care, but apparently her mother turned on the same charm inherent in Rory, and the next Friday had lined up a date.

Things progressed extremely quickly from there on out, with lavish dinners and getaway weekends for the two lovebirds. It was astonishing to watch, and the whispers of ‘gold-digger’ from the country club ladies couldn’t even come close to puncturing Rory’s mom’s thick skin. Both women had been to hell and back after all, had worked all their lives for pennies, and finally something serendipitous had happened. All the toxic exs were dropped within the first six months, the crappy two bedroom within a year, and after a year and a half marriage and a kid on the way - though nobody could quite say which one came first. It was a strike of lightning, transforming the tiny flores family immediately. Call it fate or fortune, but Rory was finally back in that world that she’d strived to be in.

This time, when the spiral came it was well supported and well recognized by Rory’s new step-father. He’d already been through the gambit of raising rich kids, two who were now nearing their thirties, and he could see the signs instantly. Bloodshot eyes, partying all night, sniffles and gaunt features. Rory was getting pulled in again, and fast, but this time there was finally someone looking out for her. She couldn’t escape the lure of the partying and the drugs alone, and this marriage had essentially busted it wide open for her, kicking away any barriers that had been there before. They couldn’t control her, really. She’d been scrambling so long that cutting off the money didn’t matter, she had her connections and her grit that had gotten her this far. 

What Rory needed was an out, a way to escape the vicious cycle addiction had pulled her into and her step-father had just the thing: a house on a tiny island in Greece,  a fixer upper that needed some love. Of course, he could easily drop a few thousand down and have it renovated much quicker, but he knew Rory had lost her purpose, so he offered it to her on a silver platter.Pride almost kept her in LA. The thinly veiled excuse to get her out wasn’t fooling anyone, but the last straw came when her step father asked her a very simple question: “What’s left for you here?”. For her whole life, LA had only given her pain, hardship, and drugs. Now, the latter was the only thing left. So, she took the deal, and the girl who had never left LA booked a ticket for the other side of the world.

Now, Rory has been on the island for five months. It’s not exactly rehab, but the drug usage has diminished bit by bit, She’s starting to find her footing and become part of the community. She still has that chip on her shoulder, but putting her energy into building something feels good. She’s never built anything in her life, and the house with its extensive gardens needs a lot of work so it’s keeping her extremely busy. When she first got there, the first thing she did was immediately pick up a job as a local bartender because she hates being dependent on her step-father’s money, for fear of him taking it away (trust issues much). The LA dust and glitter is slowly clearing from her eyes, and she’s discovering a much kinder and greener world.

P E R S O N A L I T Y

Rory is super charismatic and thus far has been turning on her charm in order to further things in life. She doesn’t have to do this anymore, so her genuine warmness is starting to shine through more. She’s been stung by basically all the relationships in her life, so she holds real companionship extremely close, loyal to the end and extremely passionate and protective. 

Bitch has trust issues and a bit of an edge though, so getting to that deep companionship is really hard.She’s also a rough kid, had to claw and fight her way through her life, so she’s definitely a little rough around the edges. She doesn’t open up quickly, and she has a quick temper that acts as a learned defense mechanism. She definitely has a nasty streak when it comes to defense mechanisms, and can be quick with her wrath.

Years on drugs leading up to this quieter life have made Rory a bit antsy, and though she still does some drugs she’s transitioning to chasing an adrenaline high - her addictive personality is always going to be her fatal flaw.

[mythgirlimagines]

Can you please do some headcanons with the V3 cast with the THH cast’s talents?

Looks like you made the decisions for me lol

Tsumugi Shirogane (Lucky Student): 

Tsumugi didn’t really think that her luck was a talent, but she was still excited to go to Hope’s Peak.

Her luck cycle isn’t too extreme, and is more convenient than anything.

That doesn’t stop her from trying to be careful that her bad luck doesn’t affect anyone else.

Rantaro Amami (Detective):

Rantaro first started with a few robbery cases, but soon became intrigued by homicide cases.

He’s very observant, but doesn’t always let on that he’s like that.

He’s also efficient and organized, which helps him solve cases faster, which is often the best course of action.

Kirumi Tojo (Affluent Progeny):

Kirumi was raised from a young age to inherit her family name by being the best.

She’s incredibly smart, but doesn’t brag about her intelligence to her classmates.

She is, however, a leader type, and will sometimes take control of a situation if they could be doing something better than they already are.

Kaito Momota (Baseball Star):

Kaito’s always loved baseball, so it was only natural that this would be his talent.

He’s very dedicated, and goes to every single practice, and sometimes will even practice in the rain.

He’s very much a team player, always making sure that his classmates have their moment to shine.

Angie Yonaga (Clairvoyant):

On Angie’s island, she was treated as a kind of oracle, since she could occasionally predict the future.

She has about a forty percent accuracy on her predictions, and the most correct ones come at the least expected times.

She tries hard to be cheerful so the others are comfortable with her, but sometimes she comes off as a bit ominous.

Kiibo (Pop Sensation):

From a young age, Kiibo worked hard to fulfill his dream of being a pop idol.

His favorite part, even though he loves it all, is making his fans and friends smile when he performs.

The members of his group are some of his very best friends, and he can’t imagine performing without them.

Maki Harukawa (Soldier): 

Maki never had much of a choice about her life, but her talent was the one choice she did make.

Through years of being a soldier, she’s gotten the bare minimum of injuries, especially compared to the rest of her group.

She’s one of the best, but she also wants to be a normal teenager at Hope’s Peak.

Kokichi Ouma (Fashionista):

Fashion was something that Kokichi was always skilled with, and he loves showing off his personal style.

Even when he loves a certain look, he always puts his own spin on it by altering it himself.

Sometimes he gives advice when nobody asks for it, but the person usually forgives him after a while.

Himiko Yumeno (Literary Prodigy):

Himiko always loved reading, and decided to start her own book series so she could create her own world.

She always has a journal with her, usually one with a cover made from some soft material.

Sometimes she’ll stay up really late to finish writing a chapter, which is why she’s usually exhausted.

Shuichi Saihara (Fanfic Creator):

Shuichi is kind of quirky, and makes a lot of references to source material that not a lot of his classmates know about.

He has a big online following for his fanfics and fan comics, all of which are rated low enough for anyone to read if they wanted.

He’s really earnest, and loves seeing people happy in his reviews. It really makes it all worth it.

Miu Iruma (Biker Gang Leader):

Miu loves the rush of riding a motorcycle, and her gang is comprised of some of the best people in her life.

If anyone messes with her gang, they’re going to pay for sure; they’re her family, and she won’t let anyone mess with them.

Loves the classic fingerless leather gloves and leather jacket look.

Gonta Gokuhara (Martial Artist):

Gonta started learning martial arts at a young age, and knows a good amount of many different ones.

However, he only ever practices for the skill. He would never dream of using them against another person unless it’s for self defense.

He’s incredibly strong, but he’s a really sweet person, and is willing to teach others for self defense as well.

Tenko Chabashira (Moral Compass):

Tenko has always abided by the rules, and doesn’t like the thought of not following them.

Part of it is for control, but she literally can’t watch someone break the rules without doing something about it.

Her heart is in the right place; she just wants everyone to be safe, and the easiest way to do that is by following the rules.

Ryoma Hoshi (Swimming Pro):

Swimming was always a bit of a safe haven for him, somewhere he could go to think and get away from the world.

He’s so incredibly fast that his friends and family always say that he’s ready for the Olympics.

He’s competitive when it comes to swimming, but he’ll do friendly races against his friends, too.

Kaede Akamatsu (Programmer):

Programming started off as something fun to do, but Kaede soon found that she had a talent for it.

She’s programmed a few apps before, some of which are released, and has a little helper app on her phone.

She sometimes makes references to binary code or other programming things while talking before remembering that she’s the only one who knows what the heck she’s talking about.

Korekiyo Shinguji (Gambler):

Kiyo is extremely talented at card games first and foremost, and is fine with making bets on his skills.

He never makes a bet he can’t handle, though, which is very important.

He is so skilled at gambling that he has never once had a debt to anyone, and he plans to keep it that way.

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: New Life, short 12--Vulnerable

Recovery is a tedious, nonlinear process. Demyx, Ienzo, and the others living in Radiant Garden's castle have to learn to come to terms with their pasts and their memories, learn to grow, and begin to understand what, exactly, it means to be human. While there is unexpected joy in this, there is also unexpected sorrow. A series of oneshots set after Beyond this Existence.

Current short: “Vulnerable.”  A hidden diary sparks an unexpected conversation between Demyx and Ansem.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Excerpt from a diary

I still think about them, sometimes. How can you not?

Like, I’ll be out and about, working or just doing me, and I’ll see something out of nowhere that reminds me of them. The colors in the marketplace, the smell of the flowers in the garden. Their faces are less and less clear every day, it seems. More than anything I remember the armor.

It’s almost harder to lose people who didn’t care about you.

I’ve talked about it over and over again, the way it supposedly makes me feel. But truthfully? Working with the sick and dying… reminds me of the sick and dying. I still feel it, in my bones, like half completed fragments of song.

Ienzo doesn’t know about this diary. It shouldn’t be easy, to keep a secret; it’s not like he can read it, anyway. (Thinking too hard about which language to write in just gives me a headache. There it is again. Suddenly letters; suddenly runes. Thank god-or-whatever for pencils.)

I’m not okay. These things come and go in waves, like the world’s shittiest coda tacked on to an otherwise good composition. Maybe it’s because I’m just so tired, but I can feel the weight of the past, heavy, icky, sticky.

Times like these I don’t want to exist.

I’m not going to pull an Ansem and disappear into the rain. I figure if I die again, this time it’ll really take. And I don’t want to die. I want the world to stop spinning, the memories to stop aching.

I’m not me, without the memories; I’m him. He haunts me, too, the absolute asshole. I can see him in my dreams, hear the brash laughter.

I’m sorry this makes no sense. But it’s not like anyone’s going to read this.

There’s Ienzo. Time to smile. It’s fine.

---

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you. Did you forget?”

Demyx scrambled to hide the notebook with another text. “Sorry. Busy day.”

Ienzo kissed him. “What’s that?” he asked.

“Oh, just my case notes,” he said breezily.

“So things are going well?”

“Fine. Yeah. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Ienzo stared at him blankly, and Demyx wondered if he could see it on his face. “...Shall we go, then? I’m quite hungry.”

“Sure.”

They set off, into the outside world, the cooling autumn day. Ienzo chatted about the next phase in his project, which included an oral history surrounding the Fall. “It is… harrowing work, but I feel it is starting to make a difference. Hiding the past, and all the pain therein, is so much more stressful than the truth.”

Did he know? He had to know. “Yeah. I bet.” How could Ienzo put up with all the pain, so easily?

“It is… something to focus on,” he said, looking down. “Aside from that, I haven’t the slightest idea what I want to do.”

“What about the gummiphone? Weren’t you expanding its programs?”

“We’re at something of an impasse,” he admitted. “There’s the question of how they threaten world order.”

Demyx hummed. “People are already starting to figure it out.”

“Well, so many are still displaced. And it takes a certain skillset to hide such things, which is difficult for the traumatized.”

Demyx considered the irony of this. “Yeah, I know.”

“But I’ve been thinking.” He looked up at him. “What is the worst that could happen? The worlds already have suffered so much, independently. Couldn’t we be stronger, together?”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“It truly is a tetchy situation.” He sighed. “And ultimately it is not my decision to make. I’m not sure whose it is.”

Demyx listened to him speculate. The world felt quiet, staticy, a bit numb. He knew he should stop Ienzo, should tell him right now about the wave that threatened to drag him under. Work through it. Rewire himself. He took a deep breath--but the words didn’t come. “So what do you want for lunch?”

“Hm, something out of the ordinary. I’m feeling adventurous.”

Demyx drifted alongside him, listening, listening…

---

There were missed calls from Ven, and a slew of texts. That was one thing about the gummiphone--people could tell when you were purposefully blowing them off.

The worst thing was that Ven wasn’t even mad, just concerned.

You okay? Haven’t heard from you in a while…

Couple of things I remembered. Do you remember that girl’s name, the one Lea and Isa knew? I can see her face so clearly but her name… I know it’s a shot in the dark--this is important.

I’m sure you’re busy… get back to me when you have a sec?

Demyx took a shaky breath. Knowing Ven… just made this worse. He erased any shadow of a doubt that this was all some impressive delusion of his.

Ven would understand better than anyone how this felt. Demyx’s thumb hovered over the call icon. He couldn’t bring himself to press it.

---

It was a nightmare he hadn’t had in a long while. Sora, a Keyblade, blood on the green and blue tiles. It was almost boring.

Oh, we do too have hearts. Don’t be mad.

God. Shut up.

Silence, traitor.

Who was he kidding? Who had really been the traitor? He’d carried that vessel himself, so willingly, the second Vexen dangled the slightest scrap of validation.

The vessel he’d brought to Ienzo. Ienzo, asleep in the bed near him.

As quietly as he could, he got out of bed, got dressed, and started walking. Things were starting to feel a bit scratchy. Demyx held himself tightly, his hand over his ribs. For the savior of the worlds, Sora really had been ruthless.

He returned to the library, to find his diary hidden under the healing theory text he’d covered it with, but when he got to the desk where he’d left it, it was gone. There was nothing. His heart was beating unevenly, but he took a cold comfort in the fact that nobody could read it.

“...Looking for something?”

Ansem’s voice made his hair stand on end. Demyx tried to smooth his face, to come up with a good excuse, and found none. “Just a book I left behind,” he said. “It’s Aerith’s.” His Nobody self had been a hell of a lot better at bullshitting. “I couldn’t sleep, thinking about the case, and--”

“That so?” Ansem brandished the notebook. “Then what’s this?”

“My case notes?”

“In a language Aerith can’t even read?”

He felt like he was slipping. He heard himself breathing hard. “It’s easier for me to write in.”

Ansem gave him the notebook. “If you truly seek to keep something private, I would suggest a cipher,” he said.

Demyx’s head was spinning. “You… you read it.”

“I’m a predictable academic. It took me far too long to realize that these writings were current. Nice touch, getting the old paper.”

He felt like he might faint. “This wasn’t for anyone,” he spat, but his mustered venom was weak. “This was… mine , it’s private .” The indignation was almost stronger than the shame. “How… how dare you, you--”

Ansem smiled sadly. “I… apologize,” he began. “Once I realized that it was yours, I stopped reading immediately. You write much differently than how you speak, which threw me off the scent, so to speak.”

“How much did you see?” Demyx couldn’t breathe.

“Enough to worry. Enough to see myself reflected in you.”

He didn’t know what to say. “Did you tell him?”

“No. Demyx, these suicidal thoughts are not to be taken ligh--”

“I’m not suicidal.”

Ansem sighed. “Truly, you did not think it normal to desire a cessation of existence? What was it you said to me? You’re here for a reason, Demyx.”

“I know.” Something was hot in his throat. “I know that, I--”

Ansem waited, but the words didn’t come. “I know how it feels, for memories to cleave the being. To despise who one once was. I, too, hid behind darkness to further my own agenda. Moreover, I also know how it feels to lose those close to me. And for my past self to be at odds with my present.”

His breath caught. “So many of them died.”

“...I know. You couldn’t help but harden your heart, even as a Nobody. Why let anybody in, lest it cause more pain? I suppose, now that the memories are clearer and you’ve had time to process them, you’re struggling with the vulnerability you’ve found as a human. Is any of that right?”

He said nothing.

“Not to mention, your increasing self-deprecation, despite it being mired in jokes, can clearly be seen as a reflection of your own insecurities, creating a cycle you yourself cannot get out of.”

He could feel his eyes watering. “Did you just wait here to roast me, or--?”

Ansem sighed. “I do this because I care about you, and I can see you need help out of the dark place you’re in.”

“Why do you care about me?”

“Ienzo loves you. That aside, we have a peculiar connection. You brought me out of the darkness. You have a kindness and a tenderness to you that mustn’t go to waste.”

He tried to hold it back. Ansem’s rust-colored eyes were unraveling the anger inside of him. “I already ask too much of him,” Demyx said. “Ienzo. I can’t… he’s got enough on his plate without also dealing with… all this.” He gestured to himself. “It’s easier to pretend to be okay. He’s still so shaken. His anxiety… it hurts to see.”

“That is something I am also familiar with.” Ansem sighed, and shook his head. “But you cannot in all seriousness get through this alone.”

“I have before.”

“Then is not now.” Ansem’s voice was firm. “You need connections.”

“I know.”

“And you need to trust in them.”

“Do you?”

Ansem seemed thrown by this. “I am… trying.”

“See? It’s not easy when you have to put your money where your mouth is.”

To his surprise, Ansem smiled. “...Quite.” A pause. “We cannot expect to understand the hurt in our memories, or the hurt we’ve inflicted upon others. But closing ourselves off to the world--in any capacity--well. That’s not much better, is it?”

“No,” he admitted.

“Let the people who care about you in. Even if the inside isn’t as pretty as you would like.”

“I will if you will.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”

Ansem took it. “It’s a wager.”

[phoenixisstrange]

The Best Day Forever Chapter 1 (Edited)

But I am wrong. It begins with me, in a nice suburban house doing my own thing going about my day. I guess I live here? I don't know who I live with or if I live alone but I encounter neighbors and friends (I don't remember specific interactions). I don’t even know how I got this beautiful house OR what town it’s in. It’s like someone created me and my life, peppered in some aspects of my personality and memory and dropped me into it. So I wake up in my? bed. 

I wake up, make myself breakfast, and acquaint myself with my neighborhood. As if I haven’t lived here for quite some time-- judging off of the bills I have sitting on the counter waiting to be paid. I open the front door. It’s a big wooden door with a little window that has decorative iron bars encasing it. Whoever designed this house did a damn nice job. I admire my front door as if I’ve never seen it before. As I step out onto my front porch I am greeted by a symphony of wildlife and a beautiful panorama of the forest. This was an intentional design point of the house. The way the forest sits inside of the frame of my porch is so perfect that it must be deliberate. The facade of my house faces a dense forest but I do have neighbors on either side of my property. 

To the left I see a mother herding her 3 kids into her minivan, well trying at least. One of the kids is running around screaming; wearing only one flip flop on. The other kid has dropped her bookbag on the ground. The third sits strapped into the car quietly. “Brandy stop moving and put your damn flip flop on, we’re going to be late!” the mom corrals her child into the van. 

I chuckle and breathe in the crisp morning air as it mingles with the scent of my piping hot coffee. The house to the right is a bit smaller and nobody seems to be home. After I finish my coffee, I go back inside and look at my schedule. It’s my day off.

I text my girls, Iz and Cree to see what they’re up to. I guess they also live in the area. Whatever the area is. The girls arrive and we set up camp in my warmly-lit living room. A low-budget Netflix horror movie plays in the background as we sip our Rosé.

 “So how’s Carter?” I ask Iz.

 “He’s good, he’s interviewing for a job at a new dealership as a sales manager”

“Good for him, I wish him luck in all his managerial endeavors” I say with a little too much enthusiasm. 

“Phoenix---How’s your love life??” She did it. She asked the dreaded question.

“Heh, funny you should ask… You would probably have an easier time finding a human being on Mars than I would finding a lover. ” Wow, I’ve actually lost count of how many times I’ve answered that. Me? Jaded? Never. Just realistic. I have too much going on to focus on finding someone right now. That’s what I tell myself at night when the loneliness hits. 

“Unfortunately my lover either doesn’t exist or doesn’t want me.” I add. You can practically see my dignity leaving the room. 

“Sometimes you just gotta ride the wave alone...” Cree-- who appears to be catatonic on the couch-- mutters from beneath a blanket. 

“Facts” Iz and I say in unison.

We finish a bottle of wine and cook some ramen. I never eat Ramen, I can’t stand it. But Iz and Cree love it so I guess that’s why my cabinets are stacked with the stuff. Either that or I am preparing for the inevitable collapse of our organized society. In that case, I know for a fact that I won’t go hungry. There’s so many packets of chicken flavored instant noodles hiding in my cabinets that I could feed a tribe in the post apocalyptic world.

The fragrance of the salty noodles dances with the incense that burns in the living room. The sound of a woman being possessed by the devil blares from the tv speakers.

“Haven’t we watched this movie already?” Iz clearly isn’t into it. “Probably, but all Netflix horror movies are the same. They usually end up as white noise anyway.” 

“I like it.” Cree chimes in

“If Cree thinks it’s a good movie, then obviously it’s a good movie Iz.” Sarcasm. 

“Cree said Suicide Squad was her favorite movie. She cannot be trusted to judge a good movie!” 

“Everyone thought that movie was so bad but y’all just don’t appreciate good art.” Cree stands firmly by her decision.

The movie concludes with the predictable ending where the antagonist--who has succumbed to demonic possession-- is cleansed of evil through a dramatic exorcism. The entire house that the movie is set in is destroyed. This forces the traumatized family to move out of the beautiful home they recently purchased. The movie ends on a cliff-hanger where a new family moves into the very house--which has now been repaired--in hopes to start a life. Boring.

The girls leave at about 11 pm. I take a quick shower and pour myself a glass of seltzer. Nights like this are ideal for stargazing. Not a cloud in the sky and cool enough to have the windows open in the house. Apparently, I missed my mark. I open my door to a rather jarring sight. Expecting the usual chirping of the cicadas and a star speckled sky; I am met with a rising sun. The sky is not an 11 pm sky it’s a 6 am sky. I’m confused and kind of scared. My mind starts to race. How drunk did we get last night? It was just a few glasses of wine not enough to black out the entire fucking night. I text Cree and Iz. No response. I figure they’re sleeping. 

My phone says 5:47 am on Saturday, 7/23. My day off is Saturday, which would be the 23rd. Saturday was yesterday. I turn on the TV to verify the date and News 12 confirms my fear of today’s date, 7/23. The annual family cookout is being held tomorrow at the park. 4 pm sharp, don’t miss it! Did I skip work yesterday? No way, I would’ve gotten a call. My head is spinning at this point and I decide to lay down for a bit.

The sound of the news 12 anchorwoman echoes in my head. “This weekend is going to be a hot one. Anyone planning on traveling west towards the coast should take care to leave a little bit early because of heavy delays along all major highways.” 

I drift in and out of consciousness and finally give up. I’ve watched the sun rise through the skylight that is fixed above the couch. That big ball of fire has climbed straight into the center of the skylight. The big ball of fire is blinding me. The time is 8:30 according to my phone. I barely slept a wink. My mind was too busy trying to figure out if I was going batshit or if I was actually trapped in a temporal loop. I mean, that would be cool because then that would mean that time loops do exist but not cool because of the fact that I would be caught in one by myself. 

My phone buzzes to life with a message from Iz. “What are you talking about? Ladies night didn’t happen hunny.” I’m wigged. 

“Must’ve dreamt it! We need a night soon, hunnies.” I reply. 

“Ok Phoenix… This is the sitch, yesterday was Friday. You accidentally skipped work and today is Saturday. Wine night was just a dream because you have been missing Cree and Iz lately…” I am rambling to myself in the dark. Yes, that will spare my sanity. I drag myself off the couch since sleep isn’t happening. I step outside at around 9. Once again, the forest is roaring with life and so is the mother next door… 

“Brandy stop moving and put your damn flip flop on, we’re going to be late!”…. I need to leave.

I go to the store and begin piling snacks and random food items into my cart. It’s been a while since I’ve been food shopping so this is OK. 

“Ice cream and wine. Check.” I say to myself. Drink myself out of the loop. Yeah, that’ll work. I see this really cute girl staring intently at a box of Gushers. For a second, it’s as if my world isn’t imploding on itself and I’m just at the store looking at a beautiful girl I’d like to know. For some reason, she’s engrossed by these artificially flavored fruit snacks. It looks as if she’s deep in thought, something is on her mind so she is occupying the time with food shopping. She’s about my height; she’s got long and silky chocolate brown hair that’s pulled back into a messy bun. I realize that I’m staring at her with as much focus as she is at those Gushers. She feels my eyes and returns to reality, she glances at me. A subtle smirk spreads across her face as she looks me and my wine bottles up and down.

“The bigger the bottle the bigger the problem huh?” She jokes. 

“No bottle will solve this problem but at least it’ll make me forget about it.”

 She chuckles and walks away. I buy my wine bottles and go home to forget what day it is. 

Listen, I won’t lie, I like to party. I love day drinking. But cracking open a fresh bottle of wine the size of a bowling pin at 10 am by myself after realizing I may never live to see tomorrow is new for me. I can’t say I hate it. I sit on the couch. The News 12 anchor-bitch is still blabbering about the family cookout-- that is supposed to take place tomorrow-- too bad. I drunkenly type away on my laptop. Scouring the darkest corners of the internet to find out anything about time loops that exist outside of science fiction. Turns out, not many people who find themselves in my situation take to Reddit to write about it... I take notes from the Twilight Zone subreddit because at this point I’m desperate for answers. My quest for information bears no fruit. 

I did learn that a time loop is different from a causal loop, which would occur because of a previous event. My situation however, is anomalous and is unrelated to anything as far as I know. I’ve started a fresh note on my laptop titled “The Best Day Forever! :)).” This is where I dump everything I know about the situation. 

So far, I know that this loop resets but I don’t know the interval or the trigger. Things that I interact with seems to stay the same with the exception of people, they don’t remember our interactions. The coffee I made the first go around was still in the pot when I went for coffee round 2. People and things outside of my control reset as if they’re characters in a video game who have a script and a path. I begin thinking, dangerous thinking. 

“Why is this happening? Why to me?” I ask aloud as if someone is going to answer me. At this point, I wouldn’t be shocked if I got an answer from some omniscient voice. 

“What is the point of all of this?” I ask out loud again. Then I begin to think of everything I had done leading up to the moment I woke up on the morning of July 23rd the first time. My memory is extremely fogged, almost non-existent. I’m struggling to produce even the vaguest memory of anything that happened before Saturday. Was it raining yesterday? Did I even leave my house yesterday? I don't know. 

Come to think of it I don't remember much of anything before Saturday. I don’t know how I got this house. I don't know who Iz and Cree are except that we’re friends and have wine nights pretty often--though they have been less frequent for some reason. I don’t know Carter…But I do. 

It’s as if these memories were fabricated. I remember the facts. I, Phoenix, own this house in this pacific northwestern town and I am a barista at a local coffee shop. I moved to this town after graduating-- in hopes to pursue my dream of opening my own shop and building a house in the forest. Anything beyond that is smudged. I can make out the memory if I hyper-focus. But even then it’s just the blueprint of a life, details are scarce. I’m spiraling, existential crisis mode has initiated and now I’m just stressed out and drunk at 1 in the afternoon. I need air.

 I step outside and check my phone. The time is exactly 1:27 pm and a blue Subaru drives down my road with a big old husky hanging out the window living his best life. I start down the road towards the forest.

[militant-holy-knight]

Benioff and Weiss Were Always Hacks: You Only Noticed Now

Or why you should be worried for the future Star Wars movies made by them

(Disclaimer: this blogpost contains spoilers for Game of Thrones)

With only two episodes left for the series to reach it’s conclusion and the announcement for future Star Wars movies in the horizon made by David Benioff and D.B. Weiss (henceforth referred to as D&D for simplicity sake), not many fans seem to be excited about it as they should due to the creative choices taken in regards to the final season of Game of Thrones. Speaking as a GoT fan, I used to enjoy the show a lot and I believe it reached it’s peak on Season 4 and started to go went downhill on Season 5. If D&D were in charge from the beginning what happened?

D&D’s job was always to adapt the book series by George R. R. Martin, which means any merit to the show’s writing can be attributed largely to Martin while D&D were only fit for it to make it work into a tv show - which is still laudable in it’s own right because there are things in the books that still wouldn’t translate too well into the show. In any case, they did their job well from Season 1 to Season 4 which adapted the first trilogy in the series. Even though there are still five books in total released at the time, Season 5 is where they started to run out of material to adapt because some storylines didn’t find their proper conclusion and they needed to come up with their own unique deviations.

Season 5 is considered by many fans to be the low point in the series because of it’s extremely low pacing and controversial liberties taken: the biggest ones have to be the Dorne subplot because that meant axing popular book character Arianne Martell, Stannis Baratheon turning irredeemable evil and paying with his life and Sansa’s marriage to Ramsay Snow leading to her rape, which is still a very hot button among the fandom to this day (and understandably so). Season 5 did have some moments like Hardhome which showed the strength of the true villain of the series, the Night King, the leader of the White Walker invasion who brings winter with him. He is the Thanos-like menace who is teased since the very start of the show with the very first scene opening with a White Walker killing some Night Watch’s rangers and warning us about the danger he represents.

Season 6 fixed some of these problems by giving a more dynamic pacing and build it up with the Battle of the Bastards as the climatic encounter instead of something completely anti-climatic like Season 5′s finale where Stannis Baratheon’s forces were liquidated by the Boltons offscreen. But still, it was an entire season wasted to fix another one’s problems and it still had some individual problems. 

And then Season 7 came along and it all went to waste. I wouldn’t say it was as bad as Season 5 because at least shit happened and it wasn’t boring, but it was still full of groan-worthy moments like trying to force some romance between Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen which doesn’t work because they have no chemistry and they are related by blood, curing Jorah Mormont who has been infected with a dangerous disease that will turn him into a snow zombie by simply cutting out the infected area, and of course lest we forget the Wight Hunt in Episode 6 “Beyond the Wall” which broke all suspension of disbelief. Lemme sum it up for you what happens in that episode so you can get the idea and let me put up a map so you can get it from reference.

The heroes come up with the idea to capture an Wight and bring it South to convince Cersei to from a truce.

The travel by boat to the Wall from their base on Dragonstone.

After reaching the Wall, they walk into the land beyond it to find a wight.

They find one and send one of their members back to ask reinforcements having to sprint a indeterminate distance.

The team gets surrounded by the Night King’s army in a frozen lake for a indeterminate amount of time.

The allies at the Wall send a raven back to Dragonstone requesting help.

Daenerys summons her dragons to fly to the land beyond the Wall to rescue the heroes.

They are fighting to the last against the advancing horde of the Night King just before Daenerys arrives in a triumphant moment to save them.

And all of this happens like... Within a hour apparently. Several days should have taken place between this exchange but time moves at the speed of the plot, but D&D seem to be relying on emotional torque to get viewers to ignore all internal logic and be mindblown by the crowning moments of awesome. And this is the core issue with their writing.

D&D write their scenes the same way they film sex scenes apparently, hoping that the emotional moments will make the audience be carried over. Thing is... I realized this after thinking up about many moments in the past. Hardhome was one such example in Season 5 to make up for its abhorrent dullness and even Season 6 wasn’t safe from this. For example, remember how Rickon Stark died just so he could provoke Jon Snow to act irrationally and spur him into conflict? Why didn’t Rickon run in zig-zag when Ramsay began firing arrows at him? Why did he run into a straight line? Did these writers not watch Prometheus to learn their lessons from it’s mistakes? This problem was carried over in Season 8 and amplified a lot in the Long Night. Many people pointed out the several military blunders made by the protagonists when fighting against the Night King’s army.

I could talk about the moronic choice to film everything in absolute darkness and make it impossible to see shit.

I could talk about how idiotic it was to waste your cavalry against the enemy bulwark.

I could talk about how they didn’t create trenches with tar or use fire for more effective manner against the undead.

But I’d rather talk about that moment.

Arya killing the Night King.

You know at first I was okay with that because:

I wasn’t being a fan of Jon Snow in a long time.

Arya wasn’t a Mary Sue, had skills that justified her, so I could buy it better.

But the more I thought about it, more I came to the realization that it was a wrong choice all along.

Arya never had any investment in killing the Night King. She was a character defined by a list of people she wanted to kill including the Freys, Cersei, Joffrey and others.

Arya was trained as an assassin yes... But her training in Season 5 and 6 was very lackluster. She spent some time doing menial works, impersonating some people and trying to spill some poison on someone’s drink. She never learned invisibility, teleportation or any other cool shit.

And most importantly... Melisandre predicting that Arya would shut down “blue eyes” way back when they met in Season 3. If she sensed she was always destined to kill the Night King why did she ever support Stannis? Why did she even support Jon Snow? She even referred to him as the Prince that was Promised. Some fans can try to spin this as much as they want, but it breaks the plot retroactively very hard.

The actress herself didn’t think she deserved it

Of course all of these things were ignored by a large part of the fanbase, more specifically the “woke” crowd because YAS QUEEN SLAY. Little did they know that the very next episode would force them to eat a real shit sandwich when “The Last of the Starks” seemed to turn the narrative against Daenerys Targaryen by turning her into the Mad Queen, killing her handmaiden Missandei and setting up Jon to be the next King of Westeros. Not helping matters is that a series of leaks not yet confirmed as of the time of writing were released prior to the episode (but I personally feel they were legitimate due to some specific things but that is not the point) which sent many Daenerys fans into panic mode.

Speaking as someone who really doesn’t like Daenerys Targaryen, I can actually sympathize with them at some level because this shift appears to be very sudden specially now that the authors favored her more until this very moment. Some viewers can argue that there were always signs like her burning the Tarlys for refusing to bend the knee, which I personally took issue with before but it never really came across as the sign of an insane ruler since she offered very valid rebuttals. It all seemed like the plot was tailored to take her side no matter what and I considered Dany a Mary Sue. But just because they seem to be turning her into a villain now, it doesn’t make me hate the story any less.

Now... I spent an inordinate amount of time bitching about Game of Thrones and if you are an Star Wars fan that doesn’t know anything about it, you might be lost to anything I am writing. Well I needed to give an proper context to both GoT and SW fans since those seem to overlap now and give you a warning because Star Wars seems to be more lost now than ever. D&D were never particularly good writers, they were incoherent about continuity, care more about spectacle over substance and seem to share a thing about subverting the audience’s expectations like a certain Ruin Johnson who succeeded in completely ruining a franchise like there was no tomorrow. The key difference between D&D and Ruin is that the duo doesn’t share the same flippant attitude or picking up fights with fans on Twitter - on the contrary, D&D understand the power of fanservice even if it means daggling the metaphorical shining keys in front of the audience. 

As we come close to Game of Thrones conclusion, I have a feeling that nobody will truly come out satisfied with it should the story take the direction that we are really dreading. I’ve seen interviews about how Emilia Clarke sounds really sad and deflated, seemed like she was really disappointed with how the show ended. Whatever happens, the blame can be laid on the feet of Benioff and Weiss for their frankly baffling creative decisions. This season has been disappointing through and through with two or three episodes being needlessly long and filler to booth and to make matters worse, it was supposed to end earlier than 10 episodes. Why did they need to rush it and yet fill the series with so much dead air?

Now can you imagine a Star Wars movie made by them? With all these things I listed? The next trilogy is already dated, we don't know if it's D&D or Ruin Johnson yet. We are talking about a couple of writers that have no sense of realistic scale, continuity or logic, but rely on cheap emotional tricks to have the audience invested until they begin thinking about it. I would laugh until I was sick if this season turns everyone against those two fuckwads that Disney changes their mind about putting them in charge. If the world was a just place, this is what would happen at least.

[scifigeneration]

Princeton scientists discover a ‘tuneable’ novel quantum state of matter

Quantum particles can be difficult to characterize, and almost impossible to control if they strongly interact with each other -- until now.

An international team of researchers led by Princeton physicist Zahid Hasan has discovered a quantum state of matter that can be "tuned" at will -- and it's 10 times more tuneable than existing theories can explain. This level of manipulability opens enormous possibilities for next-generation nanotechnologies and quantum computing.

"We found a new control knob for the quantum topological world," said Hasan, the Eugene Higgins Professor of Physics. "We expect this is tip of the iceberg. There will be a new subfield of materials or physics grown out of this. ... This would be a fantastic playground for nanoscale engineering."

Hasan and his colleagues, whose research appears in the current issue of Nature, are calling their discovery a "novel" quantum state of matter because it is not explained by existing theories of material properties.

Hasan's interest in operating beyond the edges of known physics is what attracted Jiaxin Yin, a postdoctoral research associate and one of three co-first-authors on the paper, to his lab. Other researchers had encouraged him to tackle one of the defined questions in modern physics, Yin said.

"But when I talked to Professor Hasan, he told me something very interesting," Yin said. "He's searching for new phases of matter. The question is undefined. What we need to do is search for the question rather than the answer."

The classical phases of matter -- solids, liquids and gases -- arise from interactions between atoms or molecules. In a quantum phase of matter, the interactions take place between electrons, and are much more complex.

"This could indeed be evidence of a new quantum phase of matter -- and that's, for me, exciting," said David Hsieh, a professor of physics at the California Institute of Technology and a 2009 Ph.D. graduate of Princeton, who was not involved in this research. "They've given a few clues that something interesting may be going on, but a lot of follow-up work needs to be done, not to mention some theoretical backing to see what really is causing what they're seeing."

Hasan has been working in the groundbreaking subfield of topological materials, an area of condensed matter physics, where his team discovered topological quantum magnets a few years ago. In the current research, he and his colleagues "found a strange quantum effect on the new type of topological magnet that we can control at the quantum level," Hasan said.

The key was looking not at individual particles but at the ways they interact with each other in the presence of a magnetic field. Some quantum particles, like humans, act differently alone than in a community, Hasan said. "You can study all the details of the fundamentals of the particles, but there's no way to predict the culture, or the art, or the society, that will emerge when you put them together and they start to interact strongly with each other," he said.

To study this quantum "culture," he and his colleagues arranged atoms on the surface of crystals in many different patterns and watched what happened. They used various materials prepared by collaborating groups in China, Taiwan and Princeton. One particular arrangement, a six-fold honeycomb shape called a "kagome lattice" for its resemblance to a Japanese basket-weaving pattern, led to something startling -- but only when examined under a spectromicroscope in the presence of a strong magnetic field, equipment found in Hasan's Laboratory for Topological Quantum Matter and Advanced Spectroscopy, located in the basement of Princeton's Jadwin Hall.

All the known theories of physics predicted that the electrons would adhere to the six-fold underlying pattern, but instead, the electrons hovering above their atoms decided to march to their own drummer -- in a straight line, with two-fold symmetry.

"The electrons decided to reorient themselves," Hasan said. "They ignored the lattice symmetry. They decided that to hop this way and that way, in one line, is easier than sideways. So this is the new frontier. ... Electrons can ignore the lattice and form their own society."

This is a very rare effect, noted Caltech's Hsieh. "I can count on one hand" the number of quantum materials showing this behavior, he said.

The researchers were shocked to discover this two-fold arrangement, said Songtian Sonia Zhang, a graduate student in Hasan's lab and another co-first-author on the paper. "We had expected to find something six-fold, as in other topological materials, but we found something completely unexpected," she said. "We kept investigating -- Why is this happening? -- and we found more unexpected things. It's interesting because the theorists didn't predict it at all. We just found something new."

The decoupling between the electrons and the arrangement of atoms was surprising enough, but then the researchers applied a magnetic field and discovered that they could turn that one line in any direction they chose. Without moving the crystal lattice, Zhang could rotate the line of electrons just by controlling the magnetic field around them.

"Sonia noticed that when you apply the magnetic field, you can reorient their culture," Hasan said. "With human beings, you cannot change their culture so easily, but here it looks like she can control how to reorient the electrons' many-body culture."

The researchers can't yet explain why.

"It is rare that a magnetic field has such a dramatic effect on electronic properties of a material," said Subir Sachdev, the Herchel Smith Professor of Physics at Harvard University and chair of the physics department, who was not involved in this study.

Even more surprising than this decoupling -- called anisotropy -- is the scale of the effect, which is 100 times more than what theory predicts. Physicists characterize quantum-level magnetism with a term called the "g factor," which has no units. The g factor of an electron in a vacuum has been precisely calculated as very slightly more than two, but in this novel material, the researchers found an effective g factor of 210, when the electrons strongly interact with each other.

"Nobody predicted that in topological materials," said Hasan.

"There are many things we can calculate based on the existing theory of quantum materials, but this paper is exciting because it's showing an effect that was not known," he said. This has implications for nanotechnology research especially in developing sensors. At the scale of quantum technology, efforts to combine topology, magnetism and superconductivity have been stymied by the low effective g factors of the tiny materials.

"The fact that we found a material with such a large effective g factor, meaning that a modest magnetic field can bring a significant effect in the system -- this is highly desirable," said Hasan. "This gigantic and tunable quantum effect opens up the possibilities for new types of quantum technologies and nanotechnologies."

The discovery was made using a two-story, multi-component instrument known as a scanning tunneling spectromicroscope, operating in conjunction with a rotatable vector magnetic field capability, in the sub-basement of Jadwin Hall. The spectromicroscope has a resolution less than half the size of an atom, allowing it to scan individual atoms and detect details of their electrons while measuring the electrons' energy and spin distribution. The instrument is cooled to near absolute zero and decoupled from the floor and the ceiling to prevent even atom-sized vibrations.

"We're going down to 0.4 Kelvin. It's colder than intergalactic space, which is 2.7 Kelvin," said Hasan. "And not only that, the tube where the sample is -- inside that tube we create a vacuum condition that's more than a trillion times thinner than Earth's upper atmosphere. It took about five years to achieve these finely tuned operating conditions of the multi-component instrument necessary for the current experiment," he said.

"All of us, when we do physics, we're looking to find how exactly things are working," said Zhang. "This discovery gives us more insight into that because it's so unexpected."

By finding a new type of quantum organization, Zhang and her colleagues are making "a direct contribution to advancing the knowledge frontier -- and in this case, without any theoretical prediction," said Hasan. "Our experiments are advancing the knowledge frontier."

[teresa60521-blog]

Side Effects

chapter 23: 6 months

The sweat burned her eyes as it dripped from her hairline but she kept going. The sports festival was tomorrow, a little pushed back from its usual time but she was grateful. Uraraka was desperate to place first. Or anywhere in the top 3. She wanted the satisfaction in knowing that she was good enough to be in her class even with a child attached to her arm for most of the day. She could do this and she wanted to prove it to everyone else.

“Is that all you got?” Bakugou goaded from across the mat. He was helping her train, from the kindness of his heart but mostly from Uraraka physically dragging his (weightless) body to one of the sparring areas.

Uraraka wiped the sweat from her brow and narrowed her eyes at him. She felt as if this was a repeat from their match in their first year; she had lost her jacket and was standing in the black tank top and gym pants she had worn on the arena. She was drenched in her own perspiration, out of breath, and staring Bakugou down as if he were her prey. Bakugou was unbothered, hands in his pockets, able to dodge without having to lift a finger. He wasn’t even on the defensive.

Uraraka ran towards him, all ten pads of her fingers touching, and reached out only to have him step to the side. She wobbled a little but maintained her footing, spinning on her toes and swiping at his arm. Bakugou blinked in surprise and wasn’t fast enough to dodge due to being caught off guard. He started rising off the floor.

Uraraka released him and fell to the ground, sprawling out on her back panting. It shouldn’t have been that hard to get one touch in, in their thirty minutes of sparring. Bakugou appeared over her, hands on his hips like he was a middle aged woman.

“Nice one.”

“It’s not enough.” She took his outstretched hand and let him hoist her off the ground.

“It’s a start.” Bakugou steadied her and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking her directly in the eye. “You got this, you’re gonna kick ass. Maybe not mine or that half-and-half bastard’s but you can definitely kick some ass.”

Uraraka pressed a hand to her mouth and laughed a little, shaking her head. “Are you ever going to call Todoroki-kun by his name?”

Bakugou only scoffed. “Let’s go again.”

Uraraka rolled her shoulders. She kind of wanted to be done but she needed to get more than just one hit on him. They faced each other and then with a nod of their heads they were squaring off. This time Bakugou charged her, palms raised, already beginning to spark. Uraraka knew he wouldn’t actually hurt her, not here at least when it was just the two of them. She didn’t allow herself to touch her fingers together just yet. She waited for an opening.

Bakugou faked as if he were going straight for her but instead he propelled himself off the ground. However, Uraraka had anticipated this. It was one of Bakugou’s signature moves. After seeing it for almost three years how could she have not memorized it? It was almost too easy. She had been waiting for him to use it, as he hadn’t done so in the entire time they were training with each other.

Uraraka pressed her fingertips together quickly and then swiped at him, blindly hitting his arm. He sucked in a breath through his nose and all of a sudden he was floating with no control. Uraraka grinned and grabbed him, releasing him just in time to drop him on his back on the mat and climb on top of him. She pinned his arms above his head. “You need to get a new move.”

Bakugou narrowed his eyes but there was no malice in them. “I just fucked up, that’s all.”

Uraraka giggled. “Naw, you’re predictable.”

Bakugou rolled them over so Uraraka’s back hit the mat. His grin was sadistic. “Let’s go again then.”

And so it went on for another half hour, the two of them sparring, floating or bursting around the room as they do. They waited until they were home to shower, choosing to walk home in their sweaty gym clothes. For some reason it made Uraraka feel the tiniest bit accomplished. She had worked out today, sweat her ass off, maybe even dropped some of the baby weight. Half a pound would do her some good. She kind of liked the thickness she had gained; it made her nostalgic for something that had happened just six months ago.

As they walked up to the house they noticed that the top of Kazumi’s head was visible from the street and they looked down at her through the screen. Uraraka grinned. “Hi baby!”

Kazumi’s head whipped around and up at that and her plump lips twitched in a smile. She began gurgling and raised her arms, her way of saying that she wanted to be picked up.

Uraraka opened the door and scooped her up, kissing her all over her face.

“Are you two ready for the sports festival tomorrow?” Masaru offered, Uraraka blinking herself from her stupor.

“I think so.” Uraraka smiled softly and kissed the top of Kazumi’s head. “Thank you for watching her today.”

“Always, honey.” Mitsuki gave her quick smile before returning to her task.

Uraraka smiled and climbed the stairs, Bakugou’s presence strong behind her. She turned into her room and sat on the bed. “You wanna shower first?” Bakugou asked.

Uraraka shrugged. “I wanna spend time with Kazumi for a little bit so you go ahead.” There was no response but the looming presence was gone and Uraraka moved to the floor, bringing out some toys to play with Kazumi for a little bit.

“I’m sorry we took so long today, it looked like you were waiting for us!” Uraraka said as she jingled toy keys above Kazumi’s head. Kazumi sucked her lips into her mouth and hummed, paying no mind to Uraraka, solely focused on the toys in her hand. “Daddy and I are going to be on TV tomorrow. Grandma will probably let you watch if you’re a good girl. But you’re always a good girl, right?” She pinched Kazumi’s nose and the baby girl squealed in her throat, Uraraka laughing with her. “That’s what I thought.”

Uraraka sprawled on her back and felt Kazumi crawl on top of her, still reaching for the keys. Her small knee was digging in between Uraraka’s breast, the other digging into her arm, but Uraraka didn’t mind the weight. In fact, it was welcome. It made it feel like Kazumi was real and not something Uraraka had conjured up in her mind in the past year. It was crazy that it was already over a year since she had found out she was pregnant and since her life spiraled out of control.

But she got things somewhat back together. That was extremely hard to do.

She lost track of time laying there watching her baby scooch around on the floor. Uraraka was in the process of rolling over when Bakugou appeared in the doorway again, shirtless and hair still a little damp. Kazumi rocked a little on her hands and knees before making fast movements towards him. Well, as fast as she could for somebody who had practically just learned to crawl.

A genuine smile crossed Bakugou’s face as he crouched down and lifted her into his arms, bouncing her a bit. Uraraka would never get sick of seeing that smile.

She left the two of them there in the doorway, Kazumi playing the drums on Bakugou’s face and the latter letting her. Uraraka wanted to stay and watch them but she was aware of her own stench now and she really needed a shower.

Her shower was quick as she wanted to get back to her family and avoid all the intrusive thoughts about parenthood that were still building up in her mind. She wanted one night where she had no worries, no qualms with herself or her situation. She forced herself to remain positive for a little bit as she got out of the shower and toweled off, spending the rest of the night with Bakugou and Kazumi, creating new, happy memories.

Uraraka really had no idea how she had gotten to the same arena she had been in the past two years before. The morning had been a blur of nerves and anxiety and before she knew it she was in her training uniform and out onto the arena surrounded by her classmates and others. It was practically the same as the two previous years, where they all lined up in the beginning to have a speech from a pro hero and to have the rules explained to them.

“As if we don’t already know.” Bakugou scoffed under his breath and both Uraraka and Kirishima nudged him to get him to be quite. He only crossed his arms over his chest and snarled, a clear difference from how he had been the night before with Kazumi.

The first two heats of the sports festival changed every year; their first year at UA involved them doing a race and then a cavalry battle. This year their first task would be a scavenger hunt, where forty of them will have to cross the line with an item they’ve found. Not all of them are the same, but each of them was gold in color and hidden. For the third years, they had definitely upped the course and it would be more challenging physically and maybe even a little bit mentally.

Uraraka thought of nothing and everything at once. She thought about how she was doing this for her daughter and wondered if Bakugou was doing the same. She vowed that she would treat this as if she were fighting to save her daughter.

She wanted to win. She wanted to show everybody that she could do this, motherhood and all. She hoped her parents were watching wherever they were.

Even though she was still a little bit out of shape, she ran with everything she had in her. It was a massive crowd and she used her zero gravity in order to propel herself forward after swinging on a low hanging branch. They were in a forest, somewhere off the main arena and being broadcasted to everybody sitting in the stands. She had a feeling they would be here for the second round as well, as they wouldn’t take us so far off course like this.

She released her quirk and ran through the trees, thankful that nobody else was around her. Uraraka was sure she would be targeted since she was kind of a weak link now. Everybody in their year knew of her situation and a lot of them thought that she didn’t deserve to be there in the sports festival. She knew she got off easy. She knew that the school shouldn’t have taken her back after having Kazumi. But they did. Because she was worthy.

Uraraka kept running, darting in this direction and that when she heard voices approaching. It was a happy accident that she stumbled upon one of the golden tickets almost immediately. Clearly her luck hadn’t dried up. When she picked it up to examine it, she found it was a golden statue of All Might. She laughed a little, wondering if Bakugou would want it. Tucking it safely into her sports bra, she zipped up her jacket again to conceal it. She began running in the direction in which she thought was the finish line.

One foot in front of the other, she reminded herself. She just had to kept pushing. She pushed herself a little too hard when she slammed into somebody’s sweaty back. Heart already racing, she picked herself up and tried to bypass them, but a hand grabbed the back of her jacket and threw her to the ground.

“Where do you think you’re going, pretty girl?” Monoma peered over her with a wicked grin on his face. Uraraka held her breath and tried to get up, but Monoma put his hand dangerously close to her chest.

“Don’t touch me, pervert.” She glared and shoved his hand away.

“You have something I want. Give it here.” Monoma quirked his finger.

“No.”

“You 1-A brats think you’re so special.” The blonde sniffed and shook his head. “Think you’re so entitled to everything. You don’t even deserve to be here, Uraraka Ochako.” He sneered her name as if it were venom.

Uraraka was finally able to sit up and was slowly backing away. She needed to stand up and get away. But Monoma had likely already copied her quirk, even though it was useless in this setting. However, a shining light came and kicked Monoma in the face, sending him flying into a nearby tree. Uraraka felt herself lift off the ground by something other than her zero gravity, pulling her towards the exit and she had half the mind to pull the souvenir from the hunt out of her bra. Only when they had crossed the makeshift finish line did she realize it was Bakugou who had carried her across.

“Thanks,” she panted as she looked at the golden All Might in her hand.

“I’m gonna fucking kill that worthless piece of shit.” Bakugou snarled, already turning to head back into the forest. Uraraka grabbed his arm.

“He’s not worth it. Look, we’re both advancing!” Uraraka wiggled All Might in his face. “That’s great, right!”

Bakugou huffed and looked up at the sky. “That was the easiest shit I’ve ever done.”

Uraraka rolled her eyes but smiled. “Maybe the next challenge will be tougher for you.”

Bakugou crossed his arms over his head. “Nothing is hard for me.”

“Bakugou, you made it!!” Kirishima cried out as he ran towards him, clenching his scavenger hunt item in one hand, arms stretched on either side of him.

Bakugou was already stepping away, Uraraka giggling and not even trying to feel sorry for him. “Shitty Hair, if you even so much as touch- me-” Kirishima collided with Bakugou full force and hugged him, laughing the whole time.

“I’m so happy!” Kirishima gushed and didn’t even flinch when Bakugou punched him in the gut to get him off. It was the impenetrable hardened skin that saved Kirishima from any pain and Uraraka was impressed he could do it without even thinking.

“Do not ever do that again. It’s not even surprising that we both made it, dipshit.” Bakugou stood up and brushed himself off.

“Aw, come on, it was just a bros hug!” Kirishima whined and Bakugou glared at him. Kirishima opted for giving a grin and a thumbs up to Uraraka, which she returned. Bakugou only stomped away from them with his hands shoved into his pockets. It was extremely reminiscent of first year Bakugou. Though, he hadn’t changed much since then, only gotten a little taller and broader. Kirishima had surpassed him in height and Uraraka knew deep down that it bothered Bakugou endlessly.

It took a couple more minutes but the first round was over in what seemed like a blink of the eye. They had their forty students who would advance to the second round. Like Uraraka had predicted, they weren’t brought back to the arena. They were kept in the dark and corralled into a big group in front of Midnight. She smirked down at them.

“So this next game is simple and I’m sure it’ll look very familiar to you. You will split into teams of four and you must stay together for the entirety of the time allotted. One member of your group will wear a bandana showing how many points your whole team has. Your group must collect numbers from the other groups in order to win. The top four groups will advance to the last round.”

Her explanation was flawless and Uraraka recognized that this was exactly like the cavalry battle. But there was always a catch, and that just so happened to be the forest they would be running through.

“You will not be sitting on your teammates’ shoulders. The person with the bandana will be completely vulnerable and it’s up to your teammates to protect them.” Midnight waved her whip around. “You have thirty seconds to pick a team. Go!”

Uraraka was panicking. Should she be with Bakugou? Would Bakugou even want her on his team? She was kind of the weakest link. She felt bad if she didn’t go with Midoriya and Iida and Tsuyu but when she turned to find them in the crowd she couldn’t. Sensations were high and she couldn’t really see anything in her panic. A rough, familiar hand grabbed her upper arm and pulled her towards a group.

“You’re with us.” Bakugou said into her ear. She gazed at Kaminari and Kirishima, the four of them making up a group. Kirishima and Kaminari had dopey smiles on their faces but she knew their stupidity was only half a facade.

“What about Sero-kun?” Uraraka asked.

“The idiot didn’t make it this year.” Bakugou rolled his eyes and Uraraka was shocked. Sero’s quirk was perfect for this kind of thing. Both the first round and the second round. However, Uraraka certainly wasn’t complaining. She knew that if she had been on either Midoriya’s team or Bakugou’s team that they would be moving on. They were both strong in their own way and Uraraka was confident that she could pull things off with either of them.

Bandanas were distributed to the teams and Uraraka took it upon herself to wear her team’s bandana. She could admit that her quirk wasn’t the best for combat and it would be better if she were the one who was going to be protected.

“This doesn’t make you useless!” Kirishima was saying, throwing his arm around her. Uraraka kept eying Bakugou because she figured he would chew Kirishima’s arm off for touching her. However, since Kirishima wasn’t the biggest competition to their relationship, he wasn’t exactly a threat. Kaminari, however, finally learned his boundaries and didn’t touch Uraraka unless absolutely necessary. Which was never.

“I know, Kirishima-kun.” Uraraka giggled and pat his arm.

“I just wanted to make sure cause, you know, any one of us could’ve been wearing this thing.” Kirishima fingered the bandana around her neck.

“It’s really okay.” Uraraka said.

Bakugou sidled up next to her as they got into position to enter the second round. “Oi, she fucking knows already, leave her alone.”

“Well I don’t see you do anything to hype her up!” Kirishima pouted.

Bakugou lifted an eyebrow. “She doesn’t have to be hyped up, idiot.”

Kirishima was about to say something but then the air horn was blown and they darted into the forest. This was much more difficult than the cavalry battle from their first year considering they were going into this blind instead of being able to see where everybody was. They all entered at different points and had to find others in the ten minute time limit. They had no idea how big the forest was but they figured it was at least big enough for all of them to find each other.

“I think that we need to be most wary of Tokoyami-kun and Deku-kun.” Uraraka was explaining as they navigated through the trees. “Dark Shadow can sneak up on us at any moment and we’ll be targeted since we have some of the highest points.”

“Yeah yeah.” Bakugou gruffed and stopped to look around. Then they kept going, stopping every couple of seconds to check their surroundings. Kaminari sounded like he was holding his breath and Kirishima wasn’t doing much either. They were taking this a lot more seriously than she thought they would, but considering that it was their last year and the whole country was watching. They already had internships and job offers lined up but it never hurt to get some more.

Uraraka was starting to think they weren’t going to find anybody when a tree fell down right in front of them. Bakugou was immediately on the offensive, explosions igniting from his palms and in the direction that the tree had been knocked down. The smoke obscured their view but then a figure was running towards them, fist clenched and ready to strike. Uraraka knew it was Tetsutetsu immediately and Kirishima hardened, defending him from striking her.

Kaminari was able to get some revenge on Shiozaki when he shocked her suddenly as her vines crept towards them. He and Kirishima (as well as Bakugou) were simple distractions for Uraraka to dart around and grab the bandana off of Awase’s neck. She made herself weightless and camouflaged herself in the trees, wrapping the bandana around her neck. She tried not to think about how easy this was and it was almost too easy. She tried to be positive though as their points went up by a almost eight hundred.

When Tetsutetsu’s team was out of commission she floated back down and dropped beside Kaminari, who had strengthened his electricity abilities so he didn’t max himself out immediately. They continued on and on, almost directly colliding with Midoriya’s team. They still had their bandana and an extra one, putting them right ahead of Bakugou’s team. It was, again, just like their first year and Uraraka thought it was some kind of sick joke that their teachers were making them recreate the first year sports festival.

Todoroki had just made an icy cage so none of them could escape when the horns sounded again, alluding that their time was up. Bakugou growled and shouted about how it wasn’t fair that he didn’t get to do shit to Deku’s pathetic face but Kirishima reminded him, with a sheepish grin in Midoriya’s direction, that there was still the one on one battles.

Bakugou hadn’t perked up at that and Uraraka just pat his back before wandering to her friends.

“Good job.” She gave them a thumbs up and Iida sniffed, pushing his glasses up.

“You too!”

“Are you mad, Iida-kun? That I didn’t choose you guys?” Uraraka tilted her head to the side.

Iida only looked away and shook his head. “No! I understand that romantic relationships take precedence over friendships at times!”

Uraraka and Midoriya shared a look and a nod. He was mad but too prideful to say anything.

“I’m gonna fucking wreck you.” Bakugou sneered in Midoriya’s direction when he noticed the two of them talking. Uraraka just grabbed his shoulders and spun him the other way.

“I’ll take the angry chinchilla this way, sorry Deku-kun!” Uraraka grinned as Bakugou barked at her about being called an angry chinchilla.

The last round was heavily dominated by their class again with some others sprinkled in from the lower classes. Monoma, somehow, had gotten through even though Bakugou knocked him down in the scavenger hunt. Uraraka really figured he would have stayed down but she was clearly wrong. She tried to avoid eye contact, the memory of him calling her a slut echoing in her mind. If she had to go against him she would give him the fight of his life. There would be a certain amount of pride she would gain from it as well.

Slowly they made their way back to the arena where the crowd was screaming for all of them. It was a stark difference to the silence of the forest and Uraraka welcomed it. There would never be anything like this again; her life was promised to be surrounded by news reporters and chaos. Being cheered for made Uraraka hold herself a little higher and beam. Bakugou was still slouching as usual with his hands balled into fists at his sides. He didn’t care at all about his popularity with the people or the pro heroes. His internship had not been a positive experience and it haunted him to this day.

“Okay~! The time has come, the moment you all have been waiting for!” Midnight announced dramatically, “Are you ready to see these young heroes face off?” The crowd screamed again. The screen behind them came on, just like the last two years. Uraraka had a lot of memories on this field, stage, whatever it was. She was feeling a little nostalgic but willed herself not cry. Those after-baby hormones had long since faded and things like this should not logically make her cry.

The screen started to randomize all their names and then put them in a bracket much like they had seen each year. All sixteen remaining students scanned the screen for their name and when Uraraka found her’s she paled.

Bakugou actually started laughing out loud. It wasn’t the genuine laugh she had heard when he was playing with Kazumi; no, this was sick and twisted and downright pissed. “This is a fucking joke right?”

“Oh shit.” Kirishima whispered.

Uraraka was wondering the same thing herself. She wondered if this was the Principal’s way of splitting them up. The two of them were going to have their long awaited rematch.

“It’ll be fine.” Uraraka said, nervously pressing her fingers together. She made sure not to touch her pinkies together so she wouldn’t start to float away.

Bakugou only snarled and stormed away from her. He probably didn’t want to tell her to her face this time that he was going to crush her. Uraraka felt a little better knowing he was sparing her feelings, but felt awful knowing he saw no potential in her at all.

“Do your best!” Midoriya said, sticking his thumb up right in her face.

Uraraka couldn’t help but laugh. She could always count on Midoriya to feel motivated.

There was a bit of lapse in time before they began; they were allotted fifteen minutes to prepare themselves before going onto the stage. Uraraka stretched in the room she was placed in, calming her breathing, trying to soothe the rapid beating of her heart. She wondered if Kazumi was watching and what her tiny mind would process seeing her parents fighting on TV. Uraraka wanted to make her daughter proud even if Kazumi had no idea what that meant yet.

Uraraka wondered if Bakugou was thinking the same things, or if he had blocked Kazumi from his mind for the time being.

She spent the remainder of her time in the room panicking and trying not to overwhelm herself of images of her going down. She had no idea how she got from her first train of thought to her last but she walked back into the arena looking straight ahead. She tried not to appear anxious but knew the cameras could pick up on her gnawing on her lip.

“You two know the rules by now.” Cementoss, the pro hero who would be protectoring the final portion of the Sports Festival, claimed. “The first one down wins. Whether they be unconscious or not the player must make sure the other cannot get up for at least ten seconds.”

“The fuck is this, wrestling?” Bakugou retorted snarkily. Uraraka could practically hear Kaminari or Sero’s comment from the stands about how the two of them have had lots of practice already. Uraraka rolled her shoulders. She had no problem with keeping Bakugou grounded, especially if she could make him weightless.

Cementoss only sighed and did not give Bakugou the time of day. Instead he called time and took his seat on the outskirts of the playing field. Bakugou and Uraraka stared at each other, one uncertain, the other bored.

Then Uraraka lunged forward, all five fingers pressed together, waiting to strike.

It was a mirror of their spar. Bakugou would dodge and Uraraka would stumble but catch herself. She was getting good at that last part. They danced around each other, punches thrown and skillful ducks and skids backwards done. They weren’t going to give up but it didn’t seem like Bakugou was giving it his all.

“Are you underestimating me?” Uraraka taunted when she almost got a hit on him. Bakugou grabbed her elbow and spun her around, intending on pinning her to the ground. However, she gave a powerful kick to the gut and was able to flip backwards, landing on her feet. She had no idea where she pulled that moved from but there was another moment of triumph.

Bakugou only narrowed his eyes and finally his palms flared. Uraraka tried to calculate his next move and was utterly surprised when he brought his fists to the ground, cracking the cement and sending the rock shards into the air. He was ready to put them on blast and Uraraka was already running forward, getting ready to send them into the air and right back at him just like she had in their first sports festival. She thought she could do it this time, since Bakugou clearly was not taking this seriously, whether he was doing it for her sake or to defy the school she was unsure.

The moment Uraraka reached for one of the concrete pieces Bakugou put them on blast, sending them all flying towards her. Uraraka had no time to react except to block herself from getting hit.

But she wasn’t quick enough to stop the impact.

A rather large piece of cement went right for her arms raised to block her face, hitting both of her forearms and partially slamming into her head. Uraraka had no time to register it before she was blacked out and on her back lying on the crumbled pieces of the makeshift stage.