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patchofsunlight · 4 years ago

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Warmth | Zuko x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Avatar!Reader AU | Zuko has made many mistakes and holds uncountable regrets, but maybe Y/N can still love him back. Spoiler: she does.

REQUEST (by anon): “Could you do a zuko with maybe a f! avatar? Him falling in love with her like how they joked in ember island play. And him being tormented when she 'dies' in cross roads and them having some tender moment of confessing either in the western temple or ember island? maybe the play has the kiss and he confesses idk”

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

WARNINGS: Y/N is the Avatar, so Aang doesn’t exist. kissing, there might be swear words but I don’t really remember, bad editing. lots of mutual pining and some angst. I don’t know if I did this request justice but I really tried?

OBSERVATIONS: there’s a bit of Sokka x Reader bc I’m a weak woman but in the end he’s the main Zuko and Y/N shipper. not having Aang seriously hurt me. I wrote most of the Zuko sad rant in the beginning listening to Words Fail by Ben Platt and I think it would be interesting if you guys listened to that while reading? idk

I hope you all like it!!! feedback is always appreciated, so keep that in mind and thank you very much for reading!!

There was a hole inside his chest that Zuko simply couldn’t get rid of. It hurt him to his core, bringing pained sobs to the edge of his throat and slowly dismantling his soul.

He always thought getting rid of Y/N would quench his anger, rebuild his honor and complete his destiny. Now, his father accepted him again, Mai was his girlfriend, and Azula treated him like a true brother, in her own deranged ways. The Fire Nation considered him a hero, the man who killed the Avatar.

Then why did it trouble him so much? Why did he wake up every night in a cold sweat, with tears stinging his eyes? Why did he have the same nightmare over and over where he was the one responsible for her death, hitting her with lightning and watching as the light inside her disappeared, leaving behind only her idle body and Katara’s desperate cries? Why couldn’t he be satisfied? He had fulfilled his fate. He had done what he was meant to do, sided with his people, and fought against his greatest enemy. Why wasn’t he happy? Why couldn’t he ever be happy?

Back in Ba Sing Se, he saw her at the Jasmine Dragon more than once. He couldn’t believe his eyes when she first entered the teashop, and he was pretty sure she had recognized him, but Y/N managed to send a polite smile in his direction and sit down, greeting “Mushi” with joy. When Zuko served her tea, she asked him what his name was as if she didn’t know. She didn’t confront nor attack him — she simply let him live his new life and went on living hers. It felt like she had washed off his sins, erased the bloodstains he carried in his soul and hands. Y/N freed him of his past and he had thrown it all away.

It was the right thing to do, he had told himself day after day after day. Except it wasn’t, and now Iroh refused to talk to him and the Avatar was probably dead and, in the case she wasn’t, she would never forgive him. She wouldn’t let him be free of himself again and he would never get redemption for his mistakes.

He wished he could go back in time and fight alongside Y/N in that crystal cave, wished he could live up to the trust Katara offered him before they were saved, wished he could have stopped Azula from throwing that lightning bolt. He wished he could do things in the right way, yet he couldn’t. Zuko tried so hard to regain his so-called honor and to bring his father pride but his only real achievement was engulfing himself in guilt and regret, being aware that powerful and forgiving Y/N could be dead because of his lack of dignity and character — this couldn’t be honor. Violence, betrayal, death, and hurt couldn’t be honor, and he wasn’t sure he wanted his father’s pride if it meant feeling like this, like he was no good, like he was not worthy of love or praise or admiration.

Zuko had spent a great part of his life hating himself, but nothing compared to the hate he felt every night after waking up from another crushing nightmare. How dared he make this about himself and his feelings of guilt when the Avatar could be dead? How dared he worry about the Fire Lord’s pride when the world’s last hope was gone? How dared he indulge in self-pity after all he had done? He didn’t deserve pity, didn’t deserve help, he only deserved to wallow in his own pain and die. But that wouldn’t fix anything, neither would it bring Y/N back — he had to act, and he had to do it fast.

Going after Team Avatar was not difficult. He thought he would feel complicated like he had when first betraying Y/N’s trust, thought it would hurt like coming back to the Fire Nation did. Thankfully, leaving only caused a new type of satisfaction to bloom inside his chest, giving him the sensation he was finally walking through the right path. Hope seemed to pour out of every pore in his body and he could somehow think of better, future days when he would have done enough to make up for his mistakes, days when he didn’t feel the urge to scream every time he looked at a mirror. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to despise himself like he currently did, maybe things would be okay and he would be truly happy, if that was even something he had the capability to do.

But then they didn’t want him. He left everything behind, he charged every inch of his hope with the idea of joining the Avatar, and they didn’t want him. Why would they? Why would they, after everything he had done? How could he have even considered they would accept him, that she would trust him again? Of course they didn’t want him. No one did and no one ever would and that was entirely his fault — it was his fault that he was a bad person, took the wrong decisions, and caused pain and destruction. It was his fault he never did the right thing and he should’ve known he would be rejected again, for being rejected was just what he deserved.

But it still hurt. Oh, Spirits, it hurt. She couldn’t even look at him, even after he helped them defeat Combustion Man and was finally accepted in the group. Sadly, it made Zuko realize that, no matter where he stood, he would never be a part of their team, and Y/N would never trust him entirely. For some reason, that was more upsetting than their rejection. He wanted to impress her, wanted her to like him, and she never would.

“Y/N? Can I—can I come in?”

The Avatar looked up from the map she was currently analysing on her bed, studying his figure carefully before nodding with hesitance, “yes. Do you need something?”

He sighed deeply and walked towards her, feeling his heart crack when she brought her legs closer to her body and away from him the moment he sat on the edge of the bed, “I—I just wanted to talk to you about, well, you know, everything.”

Her expression hardened and she averted her eyes back to the map, “we have nothing to talk about, Zuko. You can go back to your room.”

The Fire Nation Prince swallowed nervously, “Y/N, please. I’m so, so sorry. I have made so many mistakes, I—”

“Zuko,” her voice was firm and emotionless, but that quickly changed when she met his gaze, “I thought things could be different. I thought things could be different back in the North Pole, when we first talked to each other and you told me about Azula. I thought things could be different when you saved me as the Blue Spirit. And I was so convinced things would be different when we met again in Ba Sing Se that I—” she scoffed at her own words, “I had a crush on you, can you believe that? That’s why I visited the teashop so regularly, I just wanted to see you. Stupid, of course. I should’ve known.”

Zuko was sure she could hear his anxious heart beating from the other side of the bed. They were less than a foot away, and yet it felt like miles. He didn’t want her to think about him like that, he didn’t want her to be disappointed in him. Damn, she used to have a crush on him, she liked him, and he screwed everything up like usual. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m—I’m here now, I’m on your side.”

“Yeah, but I thought you were on my side back then too. Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. You need to teach me firebending and that’s the only reason you’re allowed here. Talking is unnecessary.”

“Please, I—”

“You should leave, Prince Zuko,” he flinched at the title escaping her lips, hating how it sounded bitter coming from her, “I have really important matters to deal with. We’ll start my firebending training tomorrow.”

“Y/N—”

“Leave, Zuko.”

With a heaviness inside his stomach, he left the room, missing if by a second the frustrated tear that ran down Y/N’s cheek. She wanted to trust him, but how could she? How could she let him in after his betrayal? She had always been forgiving, but she refused to be naive — seeing Zuko side with Azula in the crystal caves hurt her deeply and shoved her little crush on him down her throat. She couldn’t go through that again, it would be simply idiotic to. Y/N had to stand her ground. She wouldn’t be hurt by him again.

-----

“Hey, jerks. Mind if I watch you two jerks do your jerkbending?”

“Get out of—” Zuko was interrupted by the Avatar’s laughter. Sokka smiled softly at her, cheeks blushing. For some reason, that only managed to piss Zuko off even more, “get out of here!”

“Okay, take it easy. I was just kidding around,” the Water Tribe boy winked at Y/N, “see you later?”

“Sure, we still need to see that part of the temple we found yesterday. Exploration partners!”

“Exploration partners!” he agreed with a chuckle and turned away from them. “Bye, Y/N. Jerkbending… Still got it.”

Zuko glanced at her with irritation while she watched Sokka leave. He felt already incredibly frustrated for not being able to produce his fire and not knowing why, he definitely did not need to watch as Sokka and Y/N flirted.

They would make a cute couple, though, and she smiled so brightly at him it was physically painful to watch. He wanted her to smile like that at him, look like that at him. But she wouldn’t — she was over her crush and had no reason to ever feel anything towards him again, not after what he had done. He didn’t deserve her love anyway, so maybe it was for the best.

“So? Any progress, Sifu Hotman?”

“I told you not to call me that,” he snarled angrily and she sighed.

“Sorry, Sifu Hotman.”

“This was a mistake,” he sat down roughly, ignoring the ache on his legs due to the sudden movement, “maybe teaching you firebending is not my destiny.”

She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, not understanding, “what do you mean?”

“How can I teach you anything when I’ve lost my fire, Y/N?” he chuckled sadly, letting one of his hands go through his hair in distress. “I wanted to be on the good side of the war and I can’t even make myself useful.”

“You haven’t lost your fire, Zuko,” her voice was careful, “I think you’re just going through some internal conflict and that’s reflecting on your bending, but if you were meant to teach me firebending, you will. Your destiny is still your destiny regardless, Sifu Hotman.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the Avatar! I’m not even sure who I am anymore, but you have always known what your destiny was.”

“Yeah, and I was scared of it,” she smiled softly, “I ran away and disappeared for a hundred years. People died because of my absence. I have made mistakes, and I have failed many, many times. Sadly, that doesn’t make me less of an Avatar. Zuko, if you must be my teacher, it’s gonna work. We’ll figure things out and you will get your fire back. Okay?”

He stared inside her eyes. There was still some sort of mistrust in them — she was willing to help him because she needed him, but still suspicious. She wasn’t really sure he was on their side, but this was a start. He was going to fix everything and he would make her proud. He would make Y/N happy to call him a friend. Or something more.

Maybe he had a crush on her, too.

-----

Toph’s idea to look for the original source of firebending had greatly backfired (no pun intended, even though Y/N could clearly hear Sokka’s laughter in her head at the joke). They traveled to the Sun Warriors’ ancient city and found an impressive temple adorned with statues. Things were going surprisingly well until they weren’t, and now they were stuck in a disgusting glue because Zuko touched the pretty gemstone. Hours had passed and Y/N was increasingly more annoyed at their situation.

“You had to pick up the glowing egg, didn’t you?”

“At least I made something happen! If it were up to you, we��d never have made it past the courtyard.”

“Maybe, but we wouldn’t be stuck here either, so did you really win?”

Zuko rolled his eyes, “this is stupid. How are we getting out of here?”

“Help!” the girl screamed as loudly as she could, being met with only silence.

“Who are you yelling to? Nobody’s lived here for centuries,” the Fire Prince argued and it was Y/N’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Well, what do you think we should do, genius?”

“Think about our place in the universe?”

Despite her current irritation, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words. He instinctively smiled back and she felt warmth spread through her chest.

She was starting to think she wasn’t as over her crush on him as she thought.

They were rescued by the Sun Warriors and judged by the last dragons, and Y/N was sure she hadn’t felt this alive in a while. After burning Katara (it was so long ago it seemed like a different life), she had thought of fire as something destructive, harmful, but she could now see it with new eyes. Fire could be love, life, and power.

The Avatar glanced at Zuko. Maybe she could try and see him as that, too.

-----

“You did well today,” Zuko complimented warily, avoiding her gaze, “if we keep up the training, you might become a better firebender than me.”

“Why, thank you, Hotman,” she smiled brightly and Zuko was sure he could pass out right there, “I just have a great teacher.”

“Y/N!”

The Avatar felt Sokka before she saw him, laughing at the way he hugged her from behind joyfully, leaning his chin on her shoulder. “Hey, honey. What’s up?”

“Doing fine,” he mumbled, brushing her hair off his face delicately, “wanna grab something to eat?”

“I think I’m gonna train some more and clean myself later. I’ll meet you after?”

“Sure! I’ll be back inside. See you, Y/N, Zuko.”

They both watched as the Water Tribe boy entered the temple again. There was a weird burning sensation running through Zuko’s blood when he asked, voice slightly raspy and overly quiet, “so, you and Sokka, huh? You make a nice couple.”

She turned her head to him so quickly it almost gave her whiplash, “what? No! I mean—” she blushed at the question, flustered by the fact he would even consider something like that. The Fire Prince waited silently, irritation surfacing at her stammering. He wasn’t sure why that angered him so much, but he decided to be still and listen, “we are just friends,” she concluded, “he means a lot to me, but so do Katara and Toph, you know? We are—we are just friends. He even likes that Kyoshi Warrior, Suki! So, yeah, we are definitely not a couple.”

“I see,” Zuko felt curiously static with that piece of information, “and you don’t have feelings for him?”

“No, of course not. I mean, I had a thing for him when we first met, but now it’s gone. He’s my best friend and I love him, just not like that.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Good?” Y/N turned her head to the side in confusion and he paled considerably, finally noticing the meaning of his own words. “Why is that good?”

“Oh? I—it’s good that you love him! Yeah, having friends is amazing, right? Yeah.”

She smiled amusingly, “it truly is.”

“Yeah.”

The Avatar chuckled lightly, “come on, Sifu Hotman. Let’s do that leg movement again, I think I’m not doing it right.”

Days passed and a lot of things happened. Zuko knew Y/N wouldn’t be happy with Sokka’s suicide mission, but he couldn’t let him do it alone, so he accompanied him to the Boiling Rock. Again, she wasn’t happy when he followed Katara for revenge for her mother’s death, but then at least someone had Katara’s back and was ready to protect her. He desperately wanted to earn Y/N’s trust and friendship, but that was rather difficult when he insisted on doing the stuff she didn’t want him to do.

They continued their training on Ember Island and the whole Team seemed to thoroughly enjoy the place. Y/N was giving her all to learn firebending and was succeeding splendidly. To be honest, Zuko loved to see her get the moves right — every single time she made it, she would look at him with bright eyes and grin. It was the most beautiful sight Zuko had ever seen and he would do anything to have it permanently engraved in his mind.

They stayed up late during one particular night. They were both exhausted after hours of training and ended up sat beside each other on the ground on the back of the Fire Nation Royal Family’s beach house. The air between them was filled with silence and heavy breathing from their previous effort.

“Hey, Zuko?” after a few moments, Y/N called him gently, voice tired and raspy giving him chills. She laid down and stared at the dark sky. “Look at the stars with me.”

He blinked, “really? I mean, shouldn’t we go inside?”

“Please?” her eyes met his and his heart skipped a beat. “Just for a bit.”

“Okay,” Zuko whispered, lying down next to her. They looked at the sky quietly for a bit.

He liked to be around her. It could be the Avatar thing, but Y/N had a calming aura around her that was just unmissable. Being next to her like this gave him the feeling things would be alright, the feeling he was not worthless. It was a lie, of course. There was no way to know how their plans would go, and he was pretty much worthless.

But being beside her was enough to trick his mind. Maybe the little crush he harbored towards her had become something more — Spirits, he liked her so much. Not that it mattered, considering there was no way she would ever love him back, not after everything he had done.

“When I was younger, I believed we became stars when we died.”

He turned his head to look at her, “really?”

She turned to look back and his breath hitched at their close proximity. She chuckled, “yeah. I didn’t even know I was the Avatar back then, I was so young. They told me when I was sixteen, and I ran away shortly after,” there was bitterness to her words, “like a coward.”

“You are not a coward, Y/N. You had no way of knowing how things would go.”

“You really think so?”

“I do. Besides, if you hadn’t run away, you wouldn’t have been stuck on ice for a hundred years, and I would never have met you, which would be awful,” he widened his eyes, completing quickly, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. I wouldn’t have met them either. Of course.”

Her smile was so pretty he forgot how to breathe, “you’re right, Zuko. I don’t think I would have liked to live a life where I never met you,” she smirked before going on with teasing eyes, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. Of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed with a blush on his face. They stared at each other carefully and Zuko was pretty sure his heart was performing a professional routine of somersaults inside his body. He definitely was past just a simple crush.

Y/N smiled that dazzling smile of hers before averting her gaze to the stars again and yawning. “We should go in.”

“We should,” the Fire Prince immediately started to sit up, but she held him down with a hand to his chest, and probably felt his crazy heartbeat under her fingers.

“Just a bit more, Prince Zuko,” she whispered, eyes trained to the sky. Slowly but surely, she moved her hand from his chest to his own hand, creating goosebumps on every inch of skin she lightly touched on the way there. Zuko could feel his body burn at the barely-there feeling of her fingertips. She intertwined her fingers with his carefully, giving him the chance to pull away if he so wished. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed her hand. She immediately squeezed his back in reassurance.

In the middle of the quiet and comfort they suddenly found in each other, they fell asleep under the stars, fingers playing with each other until exhaustion finally engulfed them in dreams of pretty smiles and light touches.

It was nice to dodge the nightmares.

-----

“I’ve heard you and Zuko slept outside today,” Sokka had a teasing tone to his voice. Y/N glared at him, “you are together now or something?”

“We are not,” she countered, scratching Appa while they talked. Zuko, Toph, Katara, and Suki had left for the beach already. Y/N still needed to feed her sky bison and Sokka offered to help with the excuse of being a good friend. The Avatar was absolutely sure that wasn’t the real reason he stayed back alongside her and he was currently proving her right, “we were just stargazing and then fell asleep.”

“Stargazing, huh? Real cute. I bet it was an endearing impromptu date, wasn’t it?”

“Since when do you even know the word impromptu?”

“I am always full of surprises.”

“Right,” she rolled her eyes and he laughed loudly, “it was not a date.”

“But you do like him, right?.”

“What?” she turned her entire body to him, furrowing her brows and crossing her arms in a defensive stance. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I know you better than you know yourself and I can tell you have feelings for him,” Sokka copied her movements, staring at her with a smirk, “I also know he likes you back.”

Y/N scoffed and transferred her attention back to Appa, “he does not.”

“So you admit you like him!”

“Shut up, Sokka!” she glared, but quickly gave up under his intense eyes and raised brows. “Yeah, I like him. It doesn’t matter, though.”

“Yes, it does! He feels the same! Look, what about this,” he leaned in closer, that crazy look he had whenever making up a plan taking over his face, “we are going to watch that play about us tonight, right? Well, you guys can sit next to each other! Like a couple!”

“That’s a terrible idea, honey.”

“It’s not! I bet he’s gonna make a move!”

“He won’t, because he’s not in love with me.”

“Wait, you’re in love with him?”

Y/N’s entire body tensed up. She shouldn’t have said that. She wasn’t in love with Zuko! Was she? I mean, she did love to be beside him, and her heart sped up when he gave her one of his rare smiles, and training with him when he had his shirt off was distracting to say the least. Besides, he really seemed to have changed and grown — she felt like she could trust him again, but she could never be sure, and she was adamant on not getting hurt once more. Especially now, when she was dealing with so many things. If he betrayed her a second time… Spirits, it would be just too much to handle.

“I don’t know,” she muttered and Sokka’s cheeky smile faltered, “I don’t want to be.”

He stretched an arm out to hold her hand fondly, “it’s fine, Y/N. Whatever happens, I’m here for you, okay?”

The Avatar smiled sadly, “thank you, Sokka. I’m really glad to have you in my life.”

“I know, honey. I’m great like that.”

She laughed loudly and he grinned in satisfaction, turning her body around and starting to lead her towards the beach, an arm through her shoulders holding her close to his body.

“Shut up, Sokka. You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.”

Zuko felt a pang to his chest when Sokka and Y/N arrived at the beach holding each other so dearly, but he knew he had no right to complain. She would be better off with Sokka anyway — he was good-looking, nice, funny, smart. Meanwhile, Zuko was nothing but a sad mixture of mistakes and regrets. The Avatar deserved more than that.

“Hey, Hotman,” she walked to him with a smile, planting a kiss on Sokka’s cheek before leaving his side. “Why are you all alone on the sand?”

“Because he’s boring,” Toph answered from some feet away and Katara chuckled. Zuko could feel his face redden.

“He is not,” Y/N argued amusingly, sitting down beside him and grinning. She glanced at him with a happy spark in her eyes, “are you excited for the play tonight?”

“No,” he muttered, but his lack of vivacity didn’t bother her in the slightest, “the Ember Island plays are always ridiculous.”

“I think it’s going to be fun,” she shrugged contently, basking in the hot sun, “if it isn’t, we can always throw food at the stage or whatever.”

He tried really hard, but couldn’t bit back the smile that took over his frown. He watched her attentively, noticing how she seemed to glow in the daylight, giving off this incredible warmth he had only ever seen on her. He averted away his gaze, feeling his neck and face heat up at how unapologetically beautiful she was.

Zuko cleared his throat quietly, “yeah, I guess.”

She only smirked in response.

-----

The play could be worse, he figured. Yes, their portrayal of him was horrible (even though his friends — could he call them friends? Were they friends? He hoped they were — said otherwise) and the actress playing Y/N was not nearly as pretty as the Avatar really was, but Y/N was next to him and, at some point, she had leaned her head on his shoulder tiredly and stayed there. All the training was getting to her and he felt inexplicable joy in the fact she trusted him enough to rest her body on his.

“Look,” her voice was raspy from sleepiness and a chill ran down his spine, “I think now is when you join Team Avatar and becomes our friend.”

He nodded carefully not to disturb her from her position and his heart skipped a beat when she nuzzled closer to his neck. Zuko watched as actor Zuko was accepted into the group and just after a scene with only him and actress Y/N started. Actor Zuko stared at the actress longingly, “my dear Y/N… I know I have wronged you in many ways, but I wanted to apologize for my mistakes and beg for your forgiveness!”

Y/N giggled at that, nudging him affectionately, “that really happened.”

He smiled, eyes following the performers on stage. Actor Zuko continued, “your forgiveness… And maybe your love, Avatar.”

They both immediately tensed up at the words and Y/N moved her head slightly, brows furrowing in confusion.

“My love, Prince Zuko?”

“Yes, my darling.”

They all watched as Actor Zuko and Actress Y/N kissed passionately, earning cheers from the audience. Sokka whistled loudly and Y/N turned to glare at him, receiving a wink in return.

“I have been in love with you since we first met!” Actor Zuko declared excitedly, holding Actress Y/N’s hands. “You are the only one who can make me forget about my teen angst. I love you, Y/N.”

“Well… I don’t!” Actress Y/N moved away swiftly and the crowd gasped in surprise. “I have accepted you in my group, Prince Zuko… But I’ll never accept you in my heart! You’re a bad person that doesn’t deserve my love!”

“What?!” Sokka almost screamed in disbelief. Y/N finally took her head off Zuko’s shoulder, incertitude swimming in her eyes. Before she had the chance to speak, Zuko had already left. The Water Tribe boy widened his eyes at her. “Go after him!”

Y/N nodded her head, getting out of her seat and walking after Zuko, calling his name. He ignored her, feeling anger boil inside him. He knew she would never directly say something like that, but he also knew it was true. She would never love him — he wasn’t worthy of her love, and he was pretty sure she was aware of that too.

“Zuko, wait!” she finally catched up to him, holding his arm and pulling him back. “It’s just a stupid play, Zuko. None of that is true.”

“Really, Y/N?” he turned to stare at her, rage covering his expression. “Because I’m almost certain it is. They said I don’t deserve love, Y/N, and that’s true. After everything I’ve done…”

“No!” she exclaimed desperately, shaking her head vehemently in disagreement. “Zuko, of course you deserve love. Yes, you have made mistakes, but all of us have. You shouldn’t care about what some actress says.”

“But they’re right, Y/N,” he insisted, feeling tears stinging his eyes, “I’m unworthy of love and everyone knows, and that’s why nobody actually loves me.”

“I love you!” she yelled out before she could stop herself, breath hitching at the troubled look taking over his face. Y/N sighed deeply, crossing her arms shyly and looking away, “I do,” her voice was small as she blushed, “I thought I was over my little crush for you but I wasn’t, and it’s—it’s much more than a little crush. I was afraid of admitting it but I know who you are, Zuko. You are loyal and smart and so inherently good and I love you. Spirits, I really do.”

He stared at her for a second, processing her words. She fidgeted anxiously and he smiled at all her small manners. With certainty to his movements, Zuko took a step forwards and cradled her face in his hands. He studied every inch of her expression, waiting for some kind of rejection. She offered him a hopeful smile and he was quick to smash his lips with hers, feeling the warmth that always surrounded her consume him entirely. He kissed her passionately, happiness pouring out of him — the words “she loves you” echoing inside his mind like a broken record, filling his heart with joy.

She moved away when there was no more air in her lungs, breathing heavily and grinning like a mad woman. Y/N lifted her arm and touched his scar so fondly it physically hurt. Never before had he been touched with such care and it made tears flood his eyes, something she instantly noticed, giggling at his cuteness and drying one running tear with her thumb. She felt like her chest was full. He kissed her thumb lovingly when it rested near his mouth.

She loved him. She thought he was worthy of love, of her love, even after everything he had done. No matter how many mistakes he had made, she still loved him, and that thought was enough to make Zuko feel some sort of hope towards the future.

Spirits, she really loved him.

“I love you too, Y/N. Very, very much.”

is it good? not really. could it be worse? yeah lmao

taglist: @bottledcostcowater @lammello @coldlilheart @azucanela @samsmultifandomblogs and @knaite-solo that asked to be tagged on this particular piece

thank you all for reading!! I hope you liked it!!

#zuko x reader #zuko x fem!reader #zuko x f!reader #sokka x reader #atla x reader #atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender x reader #zuko #sokka #avatar #avatar!reader #avatar reader #ember island #the ember island players #requested

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craykei · 4 years ago

Text

I’ve written this because I no longer know where you are . And I know you won’t want to listen to me if I ever found you . So this will be here for you .. so fate can have something to lead you toward .

This is for the significant wonder :

It’s been years . And my recollection of you fades with time . Not that it’s my intention to erase my own memory .. I won’t forget events in my timeline, or any important words you spoke to me . But I want to preserve a part of you in my mind . It’s long overdue that I strike what I’ve built .. and lock the image . Of you .

Do you know who you are ?

You may have forgotten . Because you’re different today . But you used to be somebody .. unbelievable . You were a dream come true . Everyday . And a hope never lost . Anchored heavily and true . You were real . I knew of your depth .. yet I dared not tread beyond shallow water . Your welcome was a warmth .. That would easily subdue the air around me . And continue to envelop my spirit .

You had me absolutely yours . Did you ever know ?

Your words so pure, my heart would have stopped at your slightest verbal command Should you ever speak it done . And you would be the only divine being on the surface of this earth Who could accelerate my heart to race again .. With nothing more than a simple glance .

Your beauty was a challenge to appreciate .. in truth it was a universe in itself . As it filled infinite dimensions .. composing an endless symphony . And its potential was far too immense to be held in the very world you lived in .

But I appointed myself to that solitary journey .. And embarked on a chain of blissful discovery Of everything . Everything inside of you .

And granted, if my heart took the greatest capacity of courage ..

Then maybe I’d know for sure If this is where I was truly meant to be .

Underneath the most stars I’d ever seen in my life . On a porch stairway foreign to me .. Sitting one step below, and an arm’s length away .. From the most beautiful girl .. ever to grace my life story .

We were there together .. and I was a nervous wreck . I couldn’t speak . And I wouldn’t dare look your way . I was afraid my words would slip .. And I would tell you .. you’re beautiful . Then instantly end up despising myself for using such incompetent words . You had no idea .. It was the first time I’d ever experienced for myself .. The supreme elegance which moonlight has the power to reveal . In you .

I was no match for the velocity bound inside of me . It was inevitable that I would lose to it soon .. And something . Just .. something .. would escape me .. And reach you . And you would finally know . That I loved you . … And it .. escaped . … My voice was a disaster when I said it . I was instantly overcome with embarrassment and a concave silence .. Awkwardness left me ready and waiting to stutter my next word .. Possibly an apology for my crude mannerism .. Or a chuckled diversion to typically break the tension .. I was at a most desperate and pitiful loss for action or dialogue . Until I looked up . And saw your face . You changed everything . It was the first time in the history of my existence That I stared into the eyes of my destiny . It was in that instance where time itself .. had stopped . To let us live in that moment . Just a little while longer . Your stare was strong .. piercing me and tearing me apart . You spoke to me very clearly .. only with those eyes . They reflected everything the sky had to offer . Even if my sense of hearing was immediately taken from me Right then and there .. It still could never stop me from understanding The response within your gaze . You loved me . And my heart soared .. clear into the highest of heavens . You began to cry as you said it . And I shared that feeling with you .. We repeated ourselves over and over again .. Releasing an abundance of jailed emotion and destined words . I held you so close .. As if to cover and shield you from the world .. Bravely protecting you from all harm that exists . And that is what I did . From that night on . Thus began the birth of our relationship together . I loved every minute of it .

At times it was a struggle to find myself with you . But I hadn’t the slightest need to wonder why . An easy journey would lead me worthlessly elsewhere .. It made perfect sense to me .. that a girl of your value Could only be reachable beyond life’s most difficult obstacles . I worked my hardest . Just to have that time by your side . All of what I owned could easily have been traded .. To acquire what I needed for you . Because you were appreciative . Of everything I did . And everything I was . Do you remember .. I drove alone for seven hours .. No phone and no more than a few dozen dollars in my pocket .. Just to see you .. For an hour and a half . And it was seven more hours driving back home .. Lost in total happiness .. and weary swoon That I was able to feel your arms around me .. And your face burrowing softly against my chest . There was never a time where I was simply able to set my eyes on you .. Without being overcome with a heavy rain of joy .. From the thought that this lovely woman Of unimaginative elegance standing here before me .. Is truly mine to cherish . … We created a world together .. didn’t we . It seemed like the longest period in my life .. You and I were inseperable . Truly .. I loved you so . We achieved sweet perfection . Until the scale had to be balanced . I don’t know why we came to that point .. In which everything good began to slowly burn .. I’d always put myself up to be blamed .. for blaming you . But we both knew it wasn’t that simple .. Eventually .. I let go .. freeing my hold each day . Releasing you of that shield which protected your entire being .. And allowing the horrors you feared to swiftly reach you . You lowered yourself so much . Putting every ounce of pride away . Just to ask me to reconsider my departure . But I couldn’t . I was callous and cold . Steadfast and loyal to my decision . And I hated myself for a long time because of it . You experienced the worst disasters of your life . One . After the other . And I was not there to help .. Because of my own horrible choice . You spiraled into a maze of despair, deception, and death . And your health unfortunately coincided with these dreadful events . The world around you blamed you for everything . And you could have easily turned the blame to me . But you didn’t .. You accepted it all didn’t you . I know you did . I just couldn’t believe that you still loved me that much . Literally .. you were the only person who’d ever told me You’d give your life for me .. And proved it . But you disappeared . Before I could find you to apologize .. You were gone . I searched non-stop for what seemed like forever . Only to find that we were no longer even on the same continent . You had been sent away . My hope . Had fled my being . Only to be replaced by new fears . I had never known the feeling .. Of not being able to know for sure If the only person you care about in life .. is still living . I plunged into the deepest despondency I’d ever experienced . Possibly the only true depression I’d ever been bound within . It lasted for what seemed like a seperate lifetime .. Trudging through nights where I lay in utter silence Only to wake up to days where I quietly float through the hours . I hated myself . And I hated everything . It was the last and only time I’d ever felt this way . As the months crept by ever so slowly .. I met someone who understood . Somebody who only wanted to help . And she did . Somewhat successfully . And I moved on . Meanwhile .. you were there . Away and across the globe . Never had a way of contacting me whatsoever .. but you never lost any hope . Still just as in love .. and working diligently to somehow find your way back to me . The possibility that I’m still looking for you .. Was the strongest motivation that kept you going . But word somehow found its way to you . And you heard I moved on . And it killed you .

After another year .. you were finally able to come back . And you contacted me . Do you remember how thrilled I was ? I was so relieved to know you were still alive and well . Physically . But your heart had been broken . And your spirits darkened . And you were hurting so much . I felt the sadness I’d caused you .. And even felt the happiness you still wanted for me . You never did give up on putting me first . And I hated how you were so perfect . Unreasonable to the core . Yet unselfish by nature . I wanted to be like you in that sense . And I wanted to find a way to somehow see you happy again . You eventually moved on . Found somebody in an unexpected atmosphere .. And he did hold you dear . …… We never spoke more often than once every 4 months or so .. And I was always eager to hear your good news . I loved to hear how much you cared about him . And about how your family was doing so much better . It brought me so much happiness to listen to you share these things with me . We carried on this way for quite some time, didn’t we . Rarely ever talking to each other .. and always by total chance . You seemed to be slightly different .. But I always felt like .. the old you was in there somewhere . Until your relationship had failed . I’m so sorry . Please believe that it brought me no happiness to learn of your misfortune . You were mistreated terribly .. and for awhile you allowed yourself to be blamed . Just like always . Taking the nobility route . But you eventually took note of his error .. And you were able to realize your innocence in the matter . … That’s when you changed . … You no longer wished to speak to me . When I tried my best to talk to you .. I was only responded to with hostility .. And annoyance . And cruelty . It was all so sudden . I surely could not understand why you had become so cold-hearted towards me . Out of everything I’d been through with you .. This was brand new . I contacted you to ask how you were doing .. And it only upset you . You spoke to me rashly and casually .. cursing and being coarse Like never before .. as if I was a nobody to you .. Or a nobody to everybody . I felt as if you had totally shifted . And I was afraid to know the truth . You were like a completely different or rather, opposite person . Or maybe you just forgot .. who I used to be to you . This was the last time I’d spoken to you . ….. ….. And also .. a leading motivator in composing this letter of sorts . Believe me .. I will not act as though I truly understand you now . But I will also keep myself from being anymore of a bother to you . And I know I made you aware of that upon our last conversation . I just wanted to let you know .. I am finally ready to close this chapter in the book of my life . After everything we had been through .. which was indeed valuable .. I guess this is where our story ends . I just wanted you to have a final understanding toward my definition of our time together . I will not immortalize you in my mind as a terrible person . You will be one of the very few people I will forever remember . Please accept these parting words . You will always be inside my definition of ‘beautiful’ . Even though you may dislike me or no longer care for me .. There will always be a special place for you in my heart and memory . A place that has been crafted by you .. during the period in which we existed as one . You are loved . By an entire world of people . Don’t ever doubt your worth . You are absolutely priceless . Any man who does not see that .. is not even worthy of your eye contact . Your way to success clearly exists . Please do not give up on yourself . Extraordinary things require hard work to reach . And I learned that through you . Be honest with yourself . You deserve the best of all things . Don’t ever be ashamed of your wonderful smile . And please don’t second-guess your beauty . Never allow yourself to be abused .. you must be treated as the queen you are . Aim beyond what you expect for yourself . You’re far greater than that . I won’t be finding myself in your life any longer so I sure hope I’ve said all that’s necessary . I’m sure I’ve covered all that I wanted to assess . I know this isn’t the best way to convey such strong emotion .. but if you’re meant to know these things, then I know you’ll find your way here naturally . And since you probably won’t want to talk to me .. I’ve left all of this here for you to read at your own pace .. if you choose to read it at all . Have a great life .. wherever you are . And good luck with whatever you’re doing . I hope you’re well .. If there’s one mental picture to keep .. Let it be the moment we shared On the porch steps of your house . Underneath the most stars I’d ever seen in my entire life . Thank you for showing them to me . And thank you for teaching me to be a better person .

Thus concludes .. the story of us .

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junaou · 5 years ago

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𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋.

Brain worms said ‘go write Junao’s relationship call!’ so here I am, writing this relationship call. Please come and cherish this man. Or pick a fight, whatever’s your thing. Now, as of writing Junao is not in FGO servers outside of JP yet, so there are some spoilers regarding LB4 and all that. These are things I can usually leave out in normal threads/convos, but deeper social links would require me to prod into some of those topics. Tread carefully!

(This ended up being long. Like, really long. I’m so sorry.)

Like this post or reply with the number corresponding to the ideas below that you think would jive well with Junao and your muse. By default I’ll use Tumblr’s messaging system, but if you don’t prefer that/have other options my Discord ID is also available for the taking - just ask! I’ll also make sure to send any memes I find interesting, poke you when the brainworms come out, etcetera.

01. GENERAL IMPRESSIONS.

Junao is a very pleasant person to be around, and chances are most would find him to be good company - especially if this is their first meeting with the guy. Small talk is a good start to being acquainted with him! Most of the time he’ll just be there to point out things, maybe lend a hand or two.

But at the same time one might notice that a lot of this is very surface level. Less mimicry and more detached if anything, like floating clouds. His optimistic behavior will always be directed at others. Junao is a god, an observer with no personal preferences. He doesn’t really feel emotional about a lot of things, so chances are you’re not gonna get a rise out of him: he’ll just simply disagree or agree, and move on.

02. OCCASIONAL CURIOSITIES.

His world came into a standstill during ancient times. He might be aware of new innovations and modern changes thanks from Chaldea’s database or due to the circumstances of his summoning, but knowing and actually experiencing these things are two very different things. A lot of the environment is bound to catch his attention - whether it is about the urban horizon or the noise of arcade machines down the street. Junao would be up to trying out pretty much anything, so it’s really easy to entertain his questions or drag him into participating activities.

03. ARTS & CRAFTS.

Creation and destruction are his domains as a god, but creating stuff with merely the use of his Authority wasn’t very fulfilling at all. There’s joy in the process itself, so even back in Chaldea he had been trying to create with conventional means. The end result isn’t as perfect, of course, but he still finds it fun regardless. The nature of the craft can vary, from carving wood to folding origami or even assembling model kits! Chances are if you find him in a shop he would be looking for DIY items to try out.

04. DIVINITY.

Junao’s status as a god is quite strange. He wasn’t born as one and he wasn’t supposed to become one. Needless to say, his current performance as a god is…well, it’s not quite stellar. Of course it’s not like he hasn’t communed with gods in the past - his father is one after all. But all of his prior experiences have been under the position of one who followed and worship them. Now that he walks among them, he’s not quite so sure. Anyone who also happened to be a god in their own world would be of interest to him, just to know how it is like for them to have divine inhumanity in their blood. He has to realize that not every god shares his emotional detachment.

05. TO PURGE ALL EVIL.

He inherited the majority of his divine aspect from Kalki, one who is said to cleanse the world of all evil. In his hopes and dreams for a perfect world he tried to remove all known sources of it, only to end up going overboard. (Overboard is an understatement.) Now aware of this flaw, Arjuna has narrowed down his definition to anyone who threatens those close to him, which is a good starting point! So uh, don’t mess with them or you’ll have to face the wrath of a god.

That being said, he’s aware that figuring out the complexities and the nuances between good and evil is something he needs a better grasp on, something that would take an eternity for one to learn. There are some things that he can easily consider to be evil of the bat, but the moral grey is something he needs to face directly and address if he wanted be do better at his job.

06. I HAND YOU MORE YEARNING.

“How enviable. That is truly the form of a human. They continue to struggle even as ugly as they are. They act valiantly, but they continue to tremble in fear. They cry out saying they don’t want to die, and yet risk their lives to save another. Something inside me insists… ‘I want that. I want to be that.’”

Gods use humans as their proxies, but men do not become gods. Arjuna Alter’s existence is an anomaly, one that breaches this rule. And yet, no matter what happens, his status as a god shall never change. He can no longer return to become human again. That is why he looks at humans from a distance - in all their beauty and ugliness, their strength and their love and their passion, the way they rise and fall and rise again. Longing for something he has discarded.

07. BY CONTINUING TO QUESTION.

So. Remember what I said about him being a god with no preferences, detached from all forms of desire and emotion?

Now throw all of that out of the window.

Arjuna is an imperfect god. Beneath all these layers of divinity, underneath the functions and the code, therein lies a human soul. One that by all means should have disappeared into the void once he has absorbed nearly every god and yet despite everything he has retained his individuality. Call it a paradox or a miracle, but this is something that can only be achieved by those we call heroes.

Of course this is something that not everyone would be privy towards, but if one pursues a closer relation with Junao it is inevitable that one would end up unearthing these aspects. This personality may be muted, but there are just simply things that he cannot help but react towards. What sides would resurface would depend on specific interactions, however. After all, Arjuna is human, possessing positive and negative traits in equal measure.

07A. WHITE. Bonds are important to Arjuna, whether it is from friends or from family. He is devoted to those who trust and respect him, and those he has grown to trust and respect in return. He still loves his theatrics, whether it’s showing off a skill or just being plain dramatic, and is a willing participant when it comes to competition. He’s no longer afraid of expressing himself, and thus any smile or sign of gratefulness is the genuine thing.

07B. BLACK. He is not above pettiness or resentment. One cannot easily forget pride and honor, and he would come to rise in his own defense or on others when necessary. There are things that are still capable of riling him up, such as injustices that he cannot find himself to forgive. While he is trying to rid himself of his perfectionism, a part of it still exists, and he might find himself going overboard when blinded by emotion. As much as he would deny it, there are things he has begun to question - about his destiny, about his dharma, things he would claim to be unfair despite declaring himself as the greatest sinner of them all.

07C. BHAGAVAD GITA. And herein lies the root of his existence, the point where the fates of the Berserker Arjuna has diverged from the Archer Arjuna. His decision to absorb all gods was a decision rooted in the deepest depths of despair. It was the overabundance of suffering and moral dilemma that has had him think that it would be better to feel nothing at all, and why he has given up his emotions and personality. Why he forgot what was he supposed to fight for in the first place.

He still cannot confront them, after all this time. To face it head on is to have it break down all the walls he has built up for millennia, and no matter when it occurs he would not be ready for that backlash. He has failed in where the Archer Arjuna succeeded, and he is full aware that to acknowledge them again would break him. It has already broken him before.

What lies beyond the song of gods? I do not know. But eventually he has to go back there again, to that time where he has sacrificed everything for nothing. And when he does, he needs to find an answer. May you help him find that, no matter what it may be.

If you have reached this part of this post…congratulations! And thank you so much for reading this up to the end. Of course, I am also open to any ideas that aren’t listed here. Feel free to poke me on messages, plotting is fun and good.

#isola rp ad #isola relationship call #isola plotting call #「・」 TRIVIAL #'how long did this take you' too long #slaps this monstrosity of a post into your dashboard

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

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learning to be silent (multi) — chapter six - Roza

[ summary ] : the final skater of the event takes to the ice as a podium is set in stone meanwhile, alaska battles her own issues with her skating and detox is in a stump.

[ author's note ] : getting more and more motivation by the minute since russian nationals haha, so shocked my girl alena didn't pull through but congrats to the girls !! enjoy this chapter y'all, ignore the fact we are deblibaretly ignoring cup of china in favor of rostelecom.

AO3 / My Tumblr / (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ｡*♡

— *.✧

Don't fail your country. Don't fail yourself.

Sasha took a deep breath before looking forward with a smile, attempting to hide all her deep anxiety and all the insecurities she had been facing while attempting to do this skate back in St. Petersburg. The blonde kissed her hand and said a prayer before fading into her starting position.

As soon as the music started she was off and jumped before spinning on to her backwards edge, smiling as she extended her hands behind her and skated at the edges of the rink, kicking her leg out as she bent back and turned. She was enjoying what few bars of true free skating she had before all the jumping and hysterics would begin.

Anna Karenina was a beautiful soundtrack and Sasha was always more than glad to pick programs that represent her culture, Russian or Slavic. She had won the short program with a Serbian song, why couldn't she get a second gold with a soundtrack about a book from her own motherland?

Hearing the beginning of the brass she began to prep for her quad flip, it would be her first jump and one of the more difficult elements. her stamina was slowly taking a toll but now was definitely not the time to bitch and moan about choreography. Her skates took off from her back inside edge, jumping as she rotated four times before sticking her landing on the back outside edge of the opposite foot. Cheers poured out from the stands though she ignored them, knowing there was still so many more jumps and even more quads to go.

Sasha turned and continued, having fun with what was definitely the more upbeat section of the music. All the little details that could give her an extra percentile in presentation scores mattered, Sasha was a technical wizard but knew it took more than technical skills to win a competition.

Adding in some twizzles she grinned as she exited, turning to begin her forward takeoff for her triple axel. Her skates approached with a series of backward crossovers, in direction to the jumps rotation before she felt herself off the ice, spinning the needed three and a half rotations. It was followed by her skates backwards on the full outside edge with one leg behind her in the air. She knew her triple axel's were possibly the cleanest and had the most height in all of skating and she tried not to let the pressure get to her. It felt clean, that was what mattered.

Her path continued across the ice as she spun into her camel spin before exiting and adding on her triple toe, triple loop combination jump though that was a jump that never seemed to phase Sasha. The Russian focused on her next quad though her mind was completely deserted with only thoughts about exhaustion and how she was about to pass out at any moment.

Her head shook out of it as she focused on the program, on being Anna Karenina herself— feeling every emotion melt and encapsulate her at once. The music slowed, piano keys pressing and playing the next piece of music which signaled the blonde to go into her quad salchow.

A backward takeoff from the backward inside edge of one skate led her in the air with four full rotations as she landed on the backward outside edge of the other skate. She took a small breath in between all the applause and all the screams. She added in another triple axel soon after to try and boost up her technicality score. She knew her coach wouldn't enjoy her changing the program but she had to win: she had to earn her points and qualify for the Grand Prix final.

After two more quad's Sasha was officially wrecked and felt some kind of joy knowing the only jump left was her attempt at a quad axel, it had never been done (men or women) in competition before and she knew the risk was worth the chance: it be worth a good chunk of extra points even if she fell.

She jumped and jumped into her sit-spin before slowly standing and executing her biellmann spin. She stood with a one-foot spin, holding her other foot extended over and behind her head, forming a teardrop shape with her body before she dropped her arms and skated into another jump once the music progressed to be even more intense with the violin and strings playing into the final segment of the program.

The forward takeoff gave away it would be another axel but whether she would land it would be a completely different story.

I need this gold, I need it.

She felt herself mellow into the orchestration before her backwards crossovers began. The blonde knew it was truly now or never with attempting the first ever successful quad axel. Her direction of the jump's intended rotations landed her in the air with four and a half turns before she landed for a brief moment before finding herself on the side of her hip. The crowd gasped and clapped loudly at the pure attempt, she had landed it but fell slightly short: figuratively and literally.

Sasha didn't let that get to her as she still had to complete the final chunk of her program before she could finally breathe and exhale. She grabbed her free leg and pulled it in front of her face as she executed her I-Spin with a skate hold.

The final notes leading up saw the Russian skater in a pearl spin before going into a layback spin with her hands perfectly folded together as if she was a ballet dancer.

The train station engines puttered, the whistles of the station signifying the end. For Sasha, for Anna Karenina and for this skate, more importantly.

She finished her layback before putting her arms out in front, standing perfectly straight with an emotional smile across her face as the crowd stood up before the song had even ended. The cheering beginning the minute she got out of her spin. Sasha collapsed to the ground and groaned, her gloves covering her eyes as she gave a thumbs up to those watching. She laughed and cried in her hands knowing that was possibly the greatest program she'd ever accomplish before the Olympic season.

A French volunteer came, worried that she needed medical attention but the Russian brushed it off and smiled sweetly extending her hand for some help before turning on her skates and bowing to all sides of the arena as all stood and cheered, screamed, threw plushies and flowers for her behalf.

"Repenting the Russian Federation, Sasha Velour."

"Représentant la Fédération de Russie, Sasha Velour!

She smiled before stepping off the ice to hug her coach who took her to the Kiss & Cry as they sat with plushies abound in hand. He mumbled about how it was a clean skate but wasn't happy about the landing of the quad axel, understandably though there had been no one to even land it in competition before.

All the Russian could do was nod and smile politely though she was hoping to achieve the score she wanted, the score she needed to get the gold medal and officially qualify for the final. She won gold at Skate America, she needed this final piece to complete the puzzle.

"The scores please."

She ran a hand through her blonde hair as she held in a breath, staring down at the floor for a brief moment before the announcer continued.

"Sasha Velour has earned in the free program, a total combined score of…"

Please.

"267 points."

The entire arena gasped with shock, some screaming as a response though Sasha stood mouth dropped to the floor as her coach simply grinned in nothing but victory.

"She has earned a new world record and is currently in first place."

Sasha's ears bled from the excited screams and loud meltdown for cheers as she squealed, standing up and jumping in excitement with a tight hug to her coach who genuinely smiled and said her peace to the younger woman as Sasha turned towards the arena and waved as she bowed once more.

"Sasha Velour a obtenu dans le programme gratuit un score total de 267 points! Elle est actuellement en première place."

Sasha was officially the first skater to qualify for the Grand Prix final, placing with a perfect thirty points or two gold medals behind her. She walked towards the couches completely breathless before hearing an undeniably loud and familiar voice scream to her.

"ты блядь шлюха!" Katya screamed as she ran over and collapsed on Sasha, whispering how proud she was and how she deserved it. Katya held her hand and promised she'd be at the gala but explained how she had ran over from the stands in unfiltered excitement.

"Thank you Katya." She mumbled as they hugged tightly, enjoying the moment before the complete rush of media and the medal ceremony began.

Her tears started to flow again down her face before Katya rolled her eyes and gently slid her finger and took her tears and flicked them in her face, "No crying! You won, you need to put on a smile and get your gold medal!" Sasha laughed, sniffling as Katya stopped flicking her own tears back to her face. The two waved goodbye before Sasha found her way over to the couches where Brooke and Shea clapped, both clearly still shaken from that quad axel.

"Congratulations." The Canadian smiled with a sincerity yet an undertone of bitterness shown in her voice. Shea was quite the opposite, taking the silver medal with pride before Sasha fell into her arms and smiled happily as the American sighed.

"I knew you'd win, don't know why I thought I had a chance and then you attempted that damn quad axel! Bitch, I was shaking."

Sasha laughed as she held onto Shea's arms for comfort, still latched onto her as she replied with a grin. "I fell almost immediately after landing it, it was an attempt."

As the podiums and carpet and medals were being set up the three finalists chatted, mostly about how Sasha was feeling now that she was the first confirmed finalist towards the Grand Prix.

"Well—" she sighed, "there's only five more places and I sincerely hope there are two of them are specifically reserved for you both." Her answer seemed quite diplomatic but Brooke appreciated the comfort and sweetness in her voice as the three stood ready for the medal ceremony.

Brooke stood in front, being third, as it went last with Sasha. The three whispering to one another as they all stuffed their belongings under the one bench present before all three of them stuffed a flag of their respective countries down the back of their costumes.

The usual accordance of introducing the president, the French management, the cooperation side of things.

When they had finally reached the introduction of the medals, the flowers and the volunteers coming out with the president the girls knew it was time to begin. Sasha was impressed that almost all the crowd was staying for the medal ceremony, it was a lot of nothingness to see five minutes of crowning.

The lights dimmed and the spotlights flashed before Brooke began skating out hearing the announcement.

"In third place, representing Canada, Brooke Lynn Hytes!"

"En troisième place, représentant le Canada, Brooke Lynn Hytes!"

Don Quixote began to play as the Canadian skated out with a grin at the applause and cheers of encouragement, bowing as she did a final spilt for fun as she approached the podiums standing proudly at third as she waved and blew a kiss to the section completely covered in Canadian flags, feeling her pride swell.

"In second place, representing the United States, Shea Couleé!"

"En deuxième position, représentant les États-Unis, Shea Couleé!"

Shea cheered along with the crowd as her lips curled into a large smirk, skating along to her long program music that dimly faded once she hugged Brooke Lynn and stepped into the second place podium. She hadn't beaten Sasha but coming second next to her was the biggest honor she could imagine.

"Finally, first place, representing the Russian Federation, Sasha Velour!"

"Enfin, première place, représentant la Fédération de Russie, Sasha Velour!"

The blonde skated on to the rink with a smile, waving to all sections of the arena despite the deafening screams and the camera flashes going off all around her. She skated to the carpet before skipping over to hug Brooke who smiled and thanked her for a great competition again. A final hug was supplied to Shea who excitedly hugged up and whispered a sweet, "I'm proud of you." The Russian mouthed a silent thanks before jumping on the first place podium before the president came out with a volunteer holding all the medals on a tray.

The president began with Brooke as he placed what looked to be the gold medal to the rest of the skaters as Shea told Brooke, the Canadian gasped with a smile, staring at the Russian girl beside her. Sasha giggling at the mistake as the Canadian laughed and awkwardly took it off before the audience and three skaters laughed aloud. Brooke bowed to Sasha who stood on her left and put it around her neck, the Russian widely smiling as the crowd cheered for the excellent sportsmanship and for their winner. The president himself excused the mistake though they all had a laugh.

Brooke was crowned as the bronze medalist and accepted with a wave of applause and getting a special thanks from the French representative seeing as she was Canadian. She waved and bit down on the medal with a smirk, hoping her coach was proud of her with all the setbacks.

The man walked over to Shea next, the American shook the French man's hand before accepting the medal with honor, raising it towards the arena with the applause that came with it, she looked toward where she knew her American teammates sat and winked, showing off the medal.

After being handed each a small arrangement of flowers and Sasha a small trophy the crowd cheered for their three medalists. They snapped a photo of them all gathered on the first place podium before they stepped down and let the national anthem ceremony begin.

As the flags lowered Sasha couldn't help but get teary-eyed seeing the Russian flag above everyone else. She had a distinctive pride towards her motherland even if the government was absolutely shit and she would happily say it aloud if it wasn't for fear of losing her skating career.

"Rossiya – svyashchennaya nasha derzhava,

Rossiya – lyubimaya nasha strana.

Moguchaya volya, velikaya slava –

Tvoio dostoyanye na vse vremena!"

Sasha sang proudly as did the loud and proud minority of Russians and slavs that stood in the audience, waving their flags and cheering and whistling once the anthem ended.

The three pulled out their flags as they did a final skate around the rink, Sasha at the back of the line as she waved her large Russian flag around for everyone to see. The gold medal strapped to her neck as it shined under the spotlights.

Now it was time for the entire hour of media and photos with every journalist and then they had a gala seeing as they were the last event, it had barely even crossed Sasha's mind but she knew of one thing: she was absolutely going to take a nap before this damn gala.

— *.✧

Sasha hummed, steadily napping as she collected her energy for tonight.

The gala was in the simplest terms a collection of performances from each figure skating discipline: ice dance, pairs, men and women singles. All with a prepared program completely separate to their competitive long and short dances. These always happened after the last day of any competition day, celebrating all the medalists and letting all those who at least made it into the competition get their individual shining moment.

Most also took it as an opportunity to do programs with music that most judges frowned upon in competition which was basically anything that strayed away from classical orchestration or retro hits. Creativity was completely welcome in this scenario and it was often the one program Sasha didn't have to kill herself over.

Sasha napped on the couch of her hotel suite as Katya had invited herself in earlier, making sure her costume was steamed and nice and tidy. The Russian's eyes opened quietly hearing her alarm buzz off, alerting her that there was two hours left until the exhibition gala.

"Thanks for helping me out." Her voice spoke hoarsely as she yawned, leaning over and grabbing whatever protein bar she could hunt down from her duffel bag.

"Of course Sashi!" The other Russian exclaimed in utter bliss before curiously turning towards the younger blonde, feeling a bit intrusive and nosy at the moment once finishing up the final details of her costume.

"So can I ask something?"

"Of course."

Katya sucked in a breath before biting her tongue, "So you and the American skater, Shea?" Sasha immediately jumped up as she felt her cheeks spark an uproar of red, immediately denying any accusations Katya had of them being anything besides friends and wonderful competitors. "Sashi! I'm might be dumb but I'm sure not stupid!" She spoke as Sasha tilted her head bewildered by that statement.

"Sashi, it's very easy to see how you both look at eachother and how long your affection lasts, I know you're into her."

Sexuality wasn't something Sasha felt inclined or comfortable to talk about, especially not back home in Russia where one statement would get you killed despite all the bullshit propaganda hammering in how gay tourists could be safe, locals sure couldn't: it was all one big falsified statement. Sasha however was very open against speaking out and gained both a new platform of respect and a complete blow to her image due to the rampant homophobia in Eastern European countries.

"You know I like girls and boys Sashi, I'm very open with that, you can tell me how you're feeling."

The Russian shrugged with a sigh, rubbing her kneecaps as she took out the bobby pins in her hair, sitting on the bed with a lost expression. She didn't know exactly what to say or do at the moment, Shea surely wasn't just temporary: the two had texted all night and day since their arrival in France and went out to abandoned rinks and smaller cities around, touting what they could.

"I don't wanna say I have a crush because it's too soon but I definitely like to be around her and I love her smile."

Katya clapped, "I can't my little Sashinka is in love!" The Russian stammered before Katya shushed her, "Let me enjoy my moment! You're so picky and far too smart for any Russian man, of course you'd have a crush on an American skater of all people."

"Next subject!" Sasha yelled over her friend as Katya cackled, the younger skater rolling her eyes as she glared over straight at her exhibition costume as she picked it up and sighed. She had decided to do a Russian pop song from a very famous singer in her area, Sergey Lazarev, who also tweeted Katya's short program using one of his hit songs.

Her costume was very different besides what she usually wore: she had fishnets, a tight black skirt with a red top and a leather material jacket. It matched the tone of the song but it was definitely out her own element.

"It's fun! There's no pressure: it's all fans and a few video cameras, you won the gold so relax before you have to go back and start training hard."

"I'll enjoy it best that I can."

— *.✧

Alaska huffed aloud, putting her black tights over the base of her skates to extend her legs while on the ice before staring at Aquaria who hadn't been in the best headspace since the 4th place finish in France almost a week ago. It would be three days until Detox and Alaska would travel with Sharon and Aquaria to Moscow for the Rostelecom Cup.

Sharon kept a good eye on the young girl as they got back to America, noticing all her stamina and motivation drop to a solid zero after losing a medal though she still gained a decent amount of points from finishing 4th just barely shy of a bronze medal.

Aquaria had totally stolen the show at the exhibition gala with her Italian pop star realness track, her and Sasha were everywhere on Instagram the next day with their European popstar galas. It was lovely to see and Alaska had been blaring Soldi by Mahmood through her ears from the airport in France to the plane touching down in Los Angeles.

The American had been staring at that damned piece of paper pinned to the wall for hours the minute that France was over and done with, reading each name and subjecting herself to hours of YouTube clips to analyze her competition though most of them were either her sister's or huge rivals.

Her biggest rivals by far were Detox and Katya, more emphasis on the Russian who was completely ready to demolish everyone at her disposal considering how her situation back in her home country led her to now be training with Chad and her team. Detox stretched beside her with a groan, standing before lifting her legs behind her head and looking at the blonde beside her who certainly looked out of it.

Kameron was someone she had yet to skate with, she had only met with the girl during nationals and she often didn't place so they never got to speak. Chad always worked hard with her whenever Alaska would visit them up in Michigan.

"You good?"

"Just weird to think this is my last chance to go to a Grand Prix final is all. Olympics are the last big competition I'm going for and the American nationals are in January."

"Don't think about that now, we have to focus and you shouldn't be worrying yet: our competition is stiff but that's how figure skating is and how it always will be long after we're retired."

Alaska nodded quietly, taking a sip of her energy drink as Detox muffled her hands through her blue hair and unzipping her Team USA jacket as she jumped around the rink in her skates trying to break in to her new pearly white Jackson Ultimas. Alaska's quiet eyes stared a bit long at Detox who practiced her jumps off the ice though her mind was totally unfocused considering her own personal relationship issues with Trinity that had yet to be worked out.

Detox came to her hotel room a day after the ceremonies had ended to talk about how her and Trinity had blown up at eachother over some family tenseness and the southerner wanting to hide their relationship as long as possible: scared of backlash and her family disowning her. Apparently they came to France and Trinity introducing Detox as a "close friend" did not sit well.

It was an entire shindig Alaska enjoyed listening to but she sure didn't enjoy seeing her best friend sob on her hotel bed as they shared overpriced wine and french fries.

The American groaned silently as she felt tears swell up in her eyes staring at her best friend since she had started skating, it would be hard to leave behind the legacy and glory she had created with her Olympic, Grand Prix, World championship medals but the greatest legacy she could've created was her everlasting friendship with Detox that grew throughout the two decades Alaska had been skating.

She had gotten over the paralyzing fear of breaking her and Sharon's relationship with this forsaken retirement once the two really talked it over, in bed with the assistance of three entire packs of gummy bears. Detox was the one hurdle she couldn't jump over, the one thing she didn't want to think about was leaving her best friend alone without her. The fights, the podiums shared, all the stupid insults and jokes thrown around about their competitors in the secrecy of their hotel suites, all of it.

"You okay?"

Alaska snapped from her own tension as Detox rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, the older American nodded before turning the table on her not really wanting to delve into her own issues with her own untimely retirement plans.

This is our last Grand Prix event together and it's horrifying how quick my career has gone by.

"I'm fine, perfectly fine. Let's go and practice for Moscow."

#rpdr fanfiction #figure skating au #lesbian au #sasha velour #shea coulee #brooke lynn hytes #katya zamolodchikova #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #trinity taylor #sashea #shalaska #detox x trinity #learning to be silent #roza #concrit welcome #detox icunt

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gerudospiriit · 5 years ago

Text

One of the Lucky Ones

A Chrimbus Prezzie for @royallunatiic that I adored writing for her! <3

Basically a thing about Vegeta I’ve been entertaining in the back of my mind for several months. It’s a lot of things and very centralized in Vegeta’s head and feelings and oof. It focuses on canon and non-canon moments and kinda explores themes with Vegeta’s character I feel get overlooked inside and outside of canon material. It is also based on a mix Lau’s (royallunatiic’s) hcs and my own. I wouldn’t call it a retelling but more of a change in perspective that delves into darker themes surrounding Vegeta.

As a fair warning for others that might choose to read: this fic includes violence, gore, abuse, harsh language, some sexual content, mentions of depression, and probably things that people who hold canon as the Holy Grail will not like. It is a very rose colored glasses off kind of read. There is probably something in this that everyone won’t like but that’s the beauty of things, isn’t it? And this IS about Vegeta so :3

Also, side note, some of the formatting got lost between here and google docs and im too lazy to go through and try to fix that, so unfortunately some italic emphasis within the bulk of it will be lost, rip.

Most importantly, I hope this lives up to the hype, Lau! <3

Vegeta raised a white-gloved hand to his scouter, options flashing across red glass until he settled on the general’s name and scouter number. “Nappa, what is our estimated time of arrival?”

Several seconds of silence passed, the prince’s temper flaring a centigrade more with each impatient tap of his foot on the pod’s floor. Just as he clenched his jaw and prepared to snap at the other Saiyan and more forcefully request the information he sought, his scouter beeped followed by the unmistakable grumble of the man who served to raise him in lieu of a biological parent.

“Let’s see…” Vegeta rolled his eyes when he heard Nappa yawn. How the large Saiyan stayed comfortable crammed into the tiny space pods even with the help of the pod’s assisted stasis setting baffled him. Less than half the other man’s size, Vegeta struggled to rest for any proper amount of time no matter his level of exhaustion or the length of the trip. Nothing a usual plague of similarly themed nightmares helped. Years of getting used to it was the usual spiel the general gave when the prince cared enough to question him. “Twelve hours, give or take. Twelve hours before we get to take revenge for Raditz and destroy that damn mud ball.”

Vegeta grunted in response. He could have laughed at their cover to keep anyone listening in on their conversations from knowing their true objective. Neither Saiyan cared to avenge their fallen comrade, Saiyan or not. Raditz foolishly set off to find his weakling of a brother and got himself killed. If such lowly warriors could best him, he was a waste of space and resources. Good riddance; Vegeta had no time for coddling the third class fool, anyway. They had Dragonballs to secure and immortality only suited the strong. To overthrow and kill an all-powerful tyrant, he would only suffer the company of the very greatest warriors.

“Very well. Rest up, Nappa. We can’t afford any mistakes.”

“Don’t tell me these Earthling’s got you scared,” the general scoffed, the creak of leather sounding as he shifted in his seat. “Raditz’s power level didn’t hold a candle to ours. We’ll blow ‘em all away, no trouble, a year of training or not. And without Kakarot, it will be a cinch. In and out, just like we planned.”

Vegeta snarled. “Watch your tongue, Nappa. I’d sooner fear Cui than a lowly Earthling.” He hoped the bastard heard that. Or that Frieza did and would relay the message to amuse himself with the soldier’s rage. “They are at least clever enough to gang up on Raditz. I would hate to see you meet your end over stupidity.”

“Fat chance.”

If Nappa had anything else to say, Vegeta missed it. He had switched his scouter off to take his own advice. Or try. His anticipation to achieve immortality, to finally avenge his people and end Frieza once and for all. Kept his mind from shutting down. To take back what was promised to him, what was rightfully his. For his own, personal revenge for the abuse and embarrassment he endured under his rule. As little more than a slave. Jaw tense at the memories, he closed his eyes.

His nerves went into overdrive as the door slid shut behind him, the fur of his tail standing on end at his waist. A request for an audience with Frieza never bode well in past experiences. It usually meant a beating or other form of degradation in front of his cronies or for his own sick amusement. And with the weight of his planet and his race perishing still heavy on his heart and mind...what more could Frieza say or do to him?

Before he could kneel or greet the tyrant, Frieza turned from his locked view of the passing stars to the young Saiyan rooted a few feet in front of the door, trying his best to keep the hollowness he felt in his chest from his gaze. In front of Nappa and Raditz, he had tried to remain aloof. Stunned by the suddenness with a hint of anger at cruel fate and be the strong leader he now had no choice but to be to them. They answered to him, not his father. Not any more.

“Ah, Vegeta! Such shocking news!” Frieza threw his free hand in the air to complement the dramatic flare in his voice. He set the glass of wine he clutched in the other on the nearest surface and floated toward him, reptilian feet meeting tile before the Saiyan. “My condolences, of course. An asteroid of all things wipes out the Saiyan race!”

Vegeta swallowed, gloved fingers curling into his palms and his tail tightening around his waist. He did not need to be aware of Frieza’s general distaste for his people to hear the mocking undertone dripping from every word. The misfortune of his race was a cause for celebration to the tyrant.

“We will move forward,” he responded robotically, straightening his posture and meeting Frieza’s wicked, crimson eyes. His mouth went dry when he saw the humor dancing in them. “We will continue to serve as we always have.”

The emperor of the universe placed his hands behind his back, contemplating. Searching for ways to toy with the boy like a predator who had cornered its prey. “Spoken like a true prince with so much responsibility suddenly on his shoulders.” He sighed, the latter portion of his tail idly striking the tiled floor. “Such a shame to lose so many monk--I mean, soldiers. Their lives are irreplaceable.”

Rage burned hotter in his hollowed out body. It danced on his tongue and clawed at his jaw, desperately trying to pry his mouth open to retort or spit in his face or simply scream. Anything but the fear-soaked silence that pervaded. What did he have to lose? Everything he had been promised--his kingdom, his people, his planet--had all been obliterated. Dying now would grant him mercy. But the fighter in him, the angry, scorned warrior, screamed louder. He screamed for blood. For vengeance. He was young, but he didn’t believe that asteroid story. It stank worse than Nappa after a long day of training in the wastes back home. And this performance, this farcical show of compassion, only fueled such suspicions.

“Come now. Don’t look so glum, Vegeta. After all...” Frieza rested a clawed hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Tight. “You’re one of the lucky ones.”

No, no, no.

This had to be another nightmare.

Vegeta clung to the last dregs of consciousness his weakened state would allow in order to type the coordinates--any coordinates--to what he hoped would land him at a base to get patched up. His hand shook over the buttons, and his vision doubled and tripled while trying to make sense of the screen. Blood trickled down his forehead and off the tip of his nose. Every inch of him screamed in agony. A few more seconds of focus...that's all he needed….

He fell back once he thought he counted enough characters punched in, gritting his teeth as the careless motion jolted a new bolt of pain through his body. Obsidian eyes hooded, he watched the stars, asteroids, and planets whizz by in a blur through slitted gaze. He felt his consciousness fading, his mind replaying the bad dream Earth had turned to in a jumbled chronology of events. The fight with Kakarot, how the third class stood up to his every attack. That damn brat and his bald friend and the fat one interfering. Cutting off his damn tail. Squeezing the life out of that clown in his Oozaru form. Saibamen and the joy of watching those worms struggle against them and Nappa when they wouldn't give them the Dragonballs. The brat transforming. Nappa's blood on his hands for his failure. The bald one sparing him.

Spared. Not victorious. Not immortal. Broken. Beaten. Bloody. And spared by a worthless third rate warrior and his weakling friends. The great Prince Vegeta bested by a troupe of circus performers. He could have laughed at the absurdity of it all if he had the breath and fortitude for it. Pride damaged, a small part of him hoped his battered brain had typed the coordinates in wrong. Dump him off on some random planet to die alone with what little dignity he had left. Let his race perish once and for all with him. Kakarot was no Saiyan. He did not deserve the warrior blood that roared in his veins. He was an Earthling. He barely knew what it meant to be a Saiyan. The hardships he had faced. How it felt to lose everything.

Kakarot. His bloody fingers twitched as the name of that fool spun around his mind in a taunting sing-song like some sick nursery rhyme. Yet. He didn't know that feeling yet. Sparing him was the biggest mistake those Earthlings could make. He would make Kakarot suffer. He would kill each of his friends one by one in front of him. Slow. Grueling. Starting with the fat one that robbed him of his tail. Then, he would kill Kakarot. No. He would spare Kakarot. Beat him to a gurgling mess of blood and broken bones and destroy his planet with him on it. Yes, that would do nicely.

First things first: immortality. Namek. Frieza. Then, Kakarot.

Quaking hand rose to his scouter. He sent out a distress signal. Just in case.

He convinced Nappa to let him out of his sight with relative ease and bored Raditz with some excuse about checking out the moons of the planet for vegetation types to keep him from tagging along to leave the planet they were ordered to recon alone and undisturbed. The assignment was close to the coordinates of his home planet, committed to memory in his youth. After nearly a decade, the close proximity tugged at an emotion he couldn't place. Deeper than curiosity but darker than nostalgia. A need to put to rest his doubt and disbelief, and affirm it had not all been a cruel joke Frieza played on him all these years.

Though, as his pod flew ever closer to his destination, a dim hope flickered in the buried part of him that still mourned and despaired over the fall of his race. For that reason, he kept his eyes closed, the vision of his home planet painted on the inside of his eyelids. Until the pod slowed, and the change in motion coerced the Saiyan Prince's eyes open to see…

To see nothing. Nothing but stars and space dust.

He didn't know how long he stared, or how many times he cancelled his pod's attempts to reroute him to a place for a proper landing when the current coordinates yielded nothing solid. His chest tightened, his throat and eyes burned as he rested a gloved hand on the red glass of the pod. Tears poured from his obsidian eyes as his fingers curled into his palm and he banged his fist against the window. Gone. All gone. He had known it all along, hadn't he? What did he really expect to find out here?

He buried his face in his hands with a shuddering breath, sliding them back into his hair before letting them fall limply at his side. He couldn't deny it now; Planet Vegeta had been obliterated along with everyone on it. Reduced to no more than space matter idly drifting among the stars. In that moment, even his memories of his youth seemed to join them as any attempt to recall them left him numb.

Another request to reroute to the nearest planet echoed too loudly in his ears. Vegeta spared the empty vacuum where his home once lay one last glance before inputting the coordinates to the planet he and the others had been assigned.

Vegeta switched off the ship’s gravity controls soon after touchdown on the long forgotten planet he had chosen for training. The gradual shift from 450 times the Earth’s gravity back to normal levels welcome after hours of pushing through the training drills. He gripped the console to steady himself and hunched over as he caught his breath, sweat dripping from his visage and pooling between switches and buttons. Every muscle, every fiber of his body ached from the strain of training at the high level of gravity. So much so that just a twitch of his fingers depleted far more energy than anything should. He slammed his fist down on the control panel and straightened up. He had no time to rest. He had to push himself, push through the pain and strain and keep going. He was running out of time. He needed to become a Super Saiyan no matter the cost.

Measured steps carried him to the bag he had packed. He rummaged around and pulled out a fresh set of armor. He tore off the sweat drenched rags his training reduced the current set to and tossed it aside, replacing it with the clean suit and chest armor. He ignored the toll the simple action took on him and yanked his boots and gloves on. He punched the button and released the door hatch to descend onto the planet’s surface. Away from the distractions of Earth, the planet that had become his chosen prison. He had to stay close to his prey, keep his enemies close. Make this unexpected resurrection count.

His second chance at life had begun with sucking in dirt before rising out of a shallow grave. Followed by witnessing a third-class warrior fill the slot in his race's history meant for him. Vegeta had stared up into a tumultuous sky as the very planet beneath his boots breathed its last breaths, erupting and quaking as a greater power threatened its very core. Awestruck, the Saiyan prince watched legend become reality. Kakarot had achieved what most wrote off as legend, aglow in gold, hair and eyes changed from dark hues to light: a Super Saiyan in the flesh. And he faced off with Frieza. Would soon kill Frieza. Both milestones he promised himself and only fit for the last living Saiyan royal. The clown snatched his birthright and vengeance for all he and his people suffered under Frieza from him in the span of hours.

The realization only settled after the whirlwind of astonishment, initial pride in the irony of a Saiyan ending Frieza, and momentary swell of invincibility with the idea of being back on top with Kakarot and Frieza both dead suddenly switched direction and whipped him into the nearest wall. The damned fool survived after all, according to those bumbling Earthlings. His mood tanked, and something akin to panic intertwined with his rage: what now? Where did he go from here?

Immortality didn't strike his fancy anymore when living forever seemed worse than death, the easy way of winning. He could cross Frieza off; he couldn't kill a dead man. That left Kakarot and his friends. He could kill the latter whenever he chose, the only one posing a possible challenge being the Namekian. But what use was that when he could not stand up to Kakarot's retaliation? The fool had thrown his whole plan off kilter! Stole everything promised to him and made him look like a fool! The Saiyan Prince would not--could not--be bested by this low class a third time. Kakarot would die by his hand, that would not change. But he needed to train first, achieve Super Saiyan and do it better.

And so he trained. Day and night until he flirted with death. Haunted by the image of Super Saiyan Kakarot battling Frieza on a dying planet. The memory of sensing that power for the first time seemed stamped on his ki perception, a power that threatened to bring him to his knees. Bitterness, vengeance, and rage surged him onward, a man possessed. Driven by an ever present need to take his place as the most powerful being in the universe.

And yet, despite all that, he remained unchanged. Stronger, certainly. But he still lacked the key to transformation, and that only ignited his fury further. What did that buffoon have that he lacked? How? The singular word bounced around his brain like the simulated ki blasts of his training program. What was the secret? Time ticked down until these androids meant to doom them all arrived. He refused to die to some mechanical monstrosities, not before he got his chance to prove once and for all that he was the superior warrior.

They would serve as a testament to his strength. His ascension to legendary status. But he had to get there first.

The sky above him raged in a violent storm, lightning streaking the dark at intervals of mere milliseconds. The air around him surged with power, a reflection of the intense wrath that blazed within him. The ground shook from the force of the accompanying thunder, rattled his very being to the core. He felt awakened, his previous exhaustion forgotten as a new wave of invigoration overpowered it.

So his training began. Unencumbered. Uninhibited. Free of the petty distractions that interrupted him on Earth. Until the meteors threatened his ship. Fine. A new training exercise. He zipped through the shower, punching and blasting his way through the chunks of space rock with precision and finesse. The warm up, he found, when a meteor half the size of the planet entered the atmosphere, parting the clouds in a fiery cascade. The Saiyan prince soared upward, confident when his previous employment required him to destroy entire planets on a whim. He pulled his arm back, energy building in his palm before he shot it toward the meteor. Though, instead of resulting in an explosion, the behemoth swallowed the light, only spraying a few chunks of matter from its surface. Another blast. A barrage of them. Still it inched closer to his only means to escape this planet. His training had left him too drained. This damn rock was going to strand him there on that empty planet. No! He wouldn’t let that happen!

Mustering every last ounce of energy he could, he pulled both hands up to his head, the back of his right hand pressed into his left palm. Purple energy built around him and in his hands. “Galick Gun, fire!” With all he had left, he shot the violet energy through his hands toward the encroaching meteor, energy bursting from his palms and striking it at near point blank range. The explosion shot him straight toward the planets surface, his used up body crashing through rock formation after rock formation before slamming into the ground.

Immense pain and the ringing in his ears were all he could register as he lay prostrate in the wide crater for countless minutes. He cracked his eyes open, squinting at the lightning streaked sky above him. He needed to move, to ensure his efforts yielded success. He pushed up with his elbows, snarling as pain ripped through him, and he shifted to his knees and dragged himself to the edge of the crater. He stretched his hand out on level ground and hoisted his upper half from the hole; it was all he could manage. The Prince of all Saiyan’s reduced to crawling, clawing his way out of a crater. Too weak to best a meteor and stay on his feet. How fucking pathetic.

Vegeta beat his bruised and bloody fist on the stone ground, the guttural growl growing in volume with each pound to echo the thunder rolling around him. How many more times did he have to fail? He failed his own race, and then couldn’t even take proper revenge for their murder. He failed Nappa and Raditz, no matter how damn weak they were. At this point, what made him any better? Kakarot bested him, too. Isn’t that why he killed Nappa? Because the bumbling idiot couldn’t even kill an Earth-raised, third rate Saiyan? Even a damn kid from the future had surpassed him! The Prince of all Saiyans! He who had been promised the universe and then some by his damnable father! What did he have to show for it? For all the pain and abuse and training? Nothing. Absolutely fucking nothing. He had been reduced to buying his time on a planet he should have just destroyed upon landing, surrounded by the very idiots that began his streak of shitty luck!

What had Frieza told him? “You’re one of the lucky ones.” Ha! At that moment, he would bet the universe got off on shooting him down and kicking him in the ribs.

He bowed his head as tears of rage and shame filled his eyes, though his gut boiled fiercely. He forced himself onto his feet, stumbling a step before regaining his balance. Nothing. The word echoed in his ears, roaring in the thunder as it answered the lightning. He had nothing left. Had lost it all long ago, but he refused to admit it to himself. And suddenly...everything that had driven him the past three years meant nothing. He didn’t care about Kakarot or killing him or surpassing him. He didn’t care if he left this planet. He didn’t even care if he lived. How long had he walked on borrowed time? His second chance at life was a damn joke, a literal accident, extra time for the universe to taunt him for his failings.

Vegeta’s heart pounded in his ears, beating on his sternum like a war drum. The rest of the world fell silent around him as his rage exploded. Pure power rushed through his body and he tilted his head back to bellow his fury into the void of space above. Blinding light flared from his form and burst with a planet-quaking boom.

Consciousness flooded back like a sea’s tide, the area around him now illuminated in a golden glow. A glow that originated from him. He raised his hands and flexed them before balling them into fists. Such power. It felt incredible. Endless. Roiling throughout every ounce of his being. His shoulders shook as laughter rumbled in his chest and finally burst from his mouth. He took to the air and shot through the angry sky, admiring his speed. He destroyed mountains as he whizzed by them, each target bigger than the last. If he didn’t need the ship, he would have destroyed the planet itself just to see how easy his new power made it.

Landing near the ship (still intact, surprisingly), he powered down, acutely aware of the toll it took on him. He would have to fix that, master the form and improve upon it. It felt surreal, like he would wake up at any moment. But he knew better. He knew he only had nightmares.

He had truly done it. He had become a Super Saiyan.

“Well, I guess there really is a first time for everything.”

Vegeta didn’t care if the bartender’s comment was meant for him or merely the young woman musing aloud; he kept his attention on the drink sitting in the open space within his crossed arms on the polished wood. He could still hear the vapid giggling of the two women as they trotted to the elevator at the back of the room, clinging on the arms of his charmed comrades. It was nothing new to the prince, especially on obvious busy work like this meant to keep them out of Frieza’s line of sight for a little while. Until he needed them again. Everyone knew years of mining and drilling by the Cold’s forces had sucked this planet dry of any valuable resources. The inhabitants ranged from an occasional surprising street fighter to abysmally weak, and very few even knew how to control Ki. The bulk of Frieza’s force there had already evacuated, sent on more fruitful endeavors for the empire. At best, this planet would be made a base, and the inhabitants would have to continue to live with Frieza’s soldiers. But, this far out, Vegeta wasn’t that optimistic.

A misstep had earned them this pointless assignment on the edges of Frieza’s claim to the universe, and they were given three days to complete a full recon and report, not counting travel time. Peeved and annoyed with the gall Frieza had to assign them busy work, even Vegeta agreed that, after finishing up the assignment in just over a day, they could use the remainder of their second day to use as they saw fit and send the report in on the morning of their third day. For Raditz and Nappa, that typically meant booze, food, and fucking whoever would have them. For Vegeta, he would likely find a space to train at his leisure.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a group of three or more men not break out into a fight over my sisters’ company. Unless you’re just not into women...I suppose I shouldn’t assume…”

Obsidian eyes finally slid over to the woman, and, in comparison to her siblings, he understood why she would not appeal to the masses as easily as her sisters. Shorter and more plainly dressed in a shabby-looking, moss green jacket (the bar blocked the rest of his view of her outfit), she appeared to prefer avoiding attention rather than grabbing it. Two, beaded braids framed her face while the rest of her tawny hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, the same braids appearing intermittently throughout. She lacked the nearing gaudy makeup her sisters donned, and freckles dotted her lightly sun-kissed cheeks and the bridge of her slightly misshapen nose. A preference for the outdoors, perhaps, if not natural. The long ears inherent of her race jutted out from the side of her face, and he noticed the rose color dusting their tips.

“Your sisters aren’t my type,” he said finally, in hopes of shutting her up. She seemed to be the type to talk more when nervous. If she didn’t continue to ramble, he could at least take some solace in the fact that her voice held a more mellow timbre than the near screech of her sisters’. He picked up his drink and took a hearty gulp. Supposedly the strongest they had, but he knew he would need to drink these all day to even earn a buzz.

He heard her hum and he thought she might take the hint and busy herself with cleaning the counter or glasses. Something other than making small talk with him. Wishful thinking.

“I would ask what your type is, then, but I’m going to assume you won’t answer that.” He offered her a grunt in response, though he couldn’t stop himself from casting her another glance, as if her unasked question reflexively piqued his curiosity to check if she fit such a bill (not that he really knew his type, anyway; he didn’t care to figure it out, but he always knew what wasn’t). The only features he would consider striking in her face were her eyes, an unusual shade of shimmering silver he could not recall ever witnessing. “You’re Frieza’s soldiers, right? You and your friends?”

He fixed her with a glare, insulted, but unsure of how to correct her first: the Prince of all Saiyans answered to no one unless he wanted to and he would never refer to Nappa or Raditz as a friend. However, in an attempt to avoid more pointless conversation and seem interested in talking to her, he replied with a growled, “Yes,” and drained his glass.

“So, you can fight, then?”

Vegeta slid the glass across the bar toward her--which she expertly caught, much to his surprise considering the suddenness and speed--and rose to his feet. A stupid question, and he was sure she knew it. He pulled the neck of his armor out to fish out his pay chip, intent on paying for his drink and making a hasty exit, and slapped it down on the bar.

The woman retrieved his chip, but made no immediate move to run it. “Um, this is going to sound like an odd question but would you spar with me? I need the practice…” Silver eyes darted to the tapping of his fingers on the wood, and she rushed to the terminal behind her. She returned and offered the chip back to him. However, when he reached out for it, she snatched it out of his reach. She didn’t flinch when he growled; she expected an answer.

The Saiyan prince lifted a hand to his scouter, but it hung in midair. A habit to check a prospective opponent’s power level. He lowered it again. His tongue wrapped around a haughty rejection, but held it firmly in his mouth. Such a strange request when none that he surveyed on the planet could touch even the lowliest of Frieza’s men, and most showed no signs of any fighting prowess besides. He doubted she was much different, but his boredom and curiosity convinced him to humor her. If she had the guts to challenge him, he could grant her the satisfaction of understanding just how grave her mistake was.

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Her eyes widened; she obviously expected him to refuse. A show of sharp canines in an annoyed snarl reanimated her. She slapped the chip back into his waiting palm and darted toward a door off the bar, tearing the apron from her waist and shrugging out of her jacket as she went. Vegeta tucked his pay chip away as she shouted into the next room that she was going out. She slammed the door before whoever was behind it could protest and joined him on the other side of the bar. Unencumbered by the bar and her jacket, he saw that she wore a baggy pair of pants that matched her jacket in color and a pair of boots common in style on the planet. The white shirt turned out to be a tank top that clung to her body and bore a strip of her midriff, accentuating toned arms and abdomen. Heat rose in his cheeks when his mind registered that she was...shaplier in the chest area than the jacket allowed onlookers to guess. He turned on his heel quickly to preserve his pride and class.

“Great! I know a place not far from here. Nice and open and people don’t usually hang around there.” The woman followed him outside and, before he could ask if she could fly, her feet left the dust-riddled street and she took off. He huffed and flew after her, catching up with ease. She could use ki. That at least meant this spar might scratch the surface of interesting, at least.

“I am surprised you can leave your bar unattended on a whim, even in a backwater town like that one. Is business truly that slow?”

“My parents will handle it,” she responded shortly, her attention set in front of her. “They own the place, anyway. They’re lucky I give enough of a shit about my sisters to stick around, help out, and protect them, and they know that. They sure as hell never do it. Besides, they probably think I’m off to earn money, anyway, so of course they’re not going to question it.”

Vegeta had his suspicions about the two women when they fluttered over to the trio upon entering. His icy demeanor spurned them immediately, but Nappa and Raditz welcomed their flirtations without qualm. He heard their whispers and the exchange of terms through their giggles; he had tagged along to enough brothels to understand their inner workings, no matter how low key and whether he participated or not. However, he could not recall any where parents pimped out their children. Such vile beings this universe hosted…

They touched down in an open field, the patches of green within the nearly dried up landscape the most he had seen in miles. “Do you plan to charge me for this spar then, woman?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. A slight smirk curled his lips. “Do you charge per punch landed? Extra for using ki?”

Her brows lowered and corners of her lips dipped downward as she stretched an arm over her chest. “You like to hear yourself talk after all, don’t you?” She snorted and switched limbs. “Obviously, I knock out or kill those who agree to spar with me and rob them blind. Requires much less calculation.”

He might have believed her if he hadn’t caught the quiver of her lips in a flash of a smile. “Ha! Well, I think you’ll find I’m much more difficult to take down. But, if you can, I’ll give you every bit of currency I have to my name.”

“Great, I’ve been eyeing a new pair of boots.”

She sprang forward before the last word could register meaning in the Saiyan’s mind, punches and kicks flying in a flurry of speed he did not expect. He dodged them without issue, his arms remaining folded, and allowed his focus to gauge her skill level. Quick. Unpolished but confident and strong swings, suggesting she taught herself to some degree and had enough success. The ever lessening presence of her smirk further suggested the latter; she was not used to having this much trouble.

Finally, Vegeta allowed an easily dodged uppercut to connect with the underside of his chin, a test of her strength, how hard she could hit. His head snapped back, the point of contact smarting and his teeth ringing from the impact. He expected her to celebrate her small victory, but she proved him wrong. A sweep of her leg sent him skidding several feet from where he stood. He only just recovered before she attacked again. Fine, she proved clever enough. Though a piss poor strategy like wearing her opponent out wouldn’t work on him.

He ducked beneath a fist aimed for his face and caught her ankle as she attempted to follow up with a kick. He responded to her surprised gasp with a rumbling chuckle of his own. “Not bad. But I’m not just some urchin you picked a fight with off the street.”

Vegeta tugged the woman forward, taking advantage of her lack of balance, and sidestepped. He shoved and elbow hard into her spine and sent her sprawling face first into the dust. “Hmph, if that’s all you have to offer, fly home. I don’t waste time with weaklings.”

She pushed off her hands and twisted at the waist to shoot a wave of lavender ki straight for his face. He bent back to avoid it, the heat brushing past his face before he heard it explode in the cliff face behind them. His smirk widened when he found her back on her feet and charging him again. He dodged and blocked her blows once more, but he noted the significant boost in her speed and strength. Good, she was taking this seriously now. He had given her an immediate understanding of what kind of opponent she dealt with, and she rose with that challenge. Respectable, even if her power level only ranked among the middle levels of Frieza’s ranks.

Their spar continued on much the same way: Vegeta allowed her to punch, kick, and toss ki blasts his way to her heart’s content, then he would return a few blows and knock her away. Each time, she came back stronger, faster, more determined to level the playing field no matter how wide the gap between them or the blood and bruises on her body from his strikes. An admirable warrior in her own right. She impressed him, as far as the denizens of this doomed planet went.

As the daylight began to fade, the sky dyed various hues of burning orange, he noticed each time she fell, she took a few seconds longer to rise up again. Finally, a kick to her side sent her sailing sideways and skidding along the ground. Her body slammed into the bottom of the cliff, and she laid motionless for several seconds. Just when he thought he had knocked her unconscious or her body had finally given out, he heard her groan and flip over from her side to her back, a grin on her face.

“Alright, that’s it. I give in.” She forced herself to a sitting position, expression contorting in pain with every miniscule motion. “You win. But you knew you would this whole time, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did.” He cocked his head to either side, stretching the tendons in his neck. Their spar hadn’t been the most productive for him, but it hadn’t bored him either. A rarity, even with those meant to be on his skill level. “You surprised me. I would have never guessed anyone on this planet could even come close to the level you’ve achieved.”

She shifted to face him and swept her forearm over her face to rid it of sweat, blood, and grime. “It was actually a Saiyan that inspired me to learn to fight, even if I had to teach myself. I was little, but I watched a Saiyan woman fight off another of Frieza’s soldiers when he wouldn’t leave her alone. It was eye-opening when I was taught all along that women didn’t fight. Not respectable ones at least.” She shrugged a shoulder and rolled it for a stretch and Vegeta grunted; too many societies he had come into contact with believed similarly. He found it pathetic and ridiculous. “I couldn’t turn down the chance to fight one, to test myself. It’s been ages since I’ve seen another Saiyan…”

“That’s because we’re the last three.” The admission tumbled from his lips before he could stop them, and he scowled. He usually did not correct anyone ignorant of his people’s fate, kept his comments to himself when some merchant or whore wondered aloud about the last time they did business with a Saiyan. And yet, this woman had him yapping about something so personal without even trying. Must be the lack of food. When had he eaten last? That morning?

The woman’s face fell. “O-oh...I-I’m--”

“Save it.” Vegeta stomped over to her and stuck out his hand, the suddenness causing her to flinch back. She took it and he pulled her to her feet, a little rougher than he initially intended, though, if it bothered her, she said nothing. He released her hand. “Where is the best place for food here? Everything I’ve tried here tastes like molten garbage.”

“Well, there’s really not much left, as I’m sure you noticed.” She dusted herself off and pulled the strap of her tank top back into its proper place. “But...you’re welcome to stay at my place for the night. If you want. It’s quieter than the hotel, that’s for sure, more comfortable, too. Many of the rooms there haven’t been cleaned in quite a while, if you want the honest truth. My parents have yet to hire new help after skimping on paying the last batch of employees, my sisters refuse to help with that sort of work, and…”

She trailed off when she noticed his pointed look, how she hadn’t answered his question. She swallowed. “And I can cook. So you’ll get food, peace, and comfort. The offer’s open so take it if you want.”

Vegeta watched her take to the sky and mulled over the offer. With how she seemed determined to chat with him, he questioned the validity of her claim to quiet. The growl of his stomach voted in favor, proposing that almost anything could beat the trash he and his cohorts had wolfed down the day before. Comfort...his mind lingered on that word, twisting it into a more lewd definition. Images of her toned, nude body beneath him among a tangle of sheets, glistening in sweat as her moans filled the air…

White energy surrounded him and he shot into the sky after her. Fine. What did he have to lose anyway? Unless Frieza felt some sort of sentimental value toward this planet and those who roamed on it, she would likely be killed in the near future anyway. A shame, considering her potential. It was too bad there weren’t more like her. Enough to make her planet a worthwhile gem among the tyrant’s endless trove…

He wondered if she knew that...understood what his and his lackeys’ stay here likely meant for her and her home…

"We're getting married, Vegeta. That's final."

He swore the damn woman had an alarm on every door he frequented, from his bedroom in the guest wing to the gravity room. Perhaps on his bed, too, as he had just convinced himself to roll out of it, dress, and hole himself up in the gravity chamber to train until his body begged him to stop. He had just pulled the door open and there she stood, scowling and balancing her brat on her hip. The kid seemed unfazed by the aggravation in her voice, more intent on sucking his thumb.

Vegeta gripped the doorframe, the only thing to keep him from shoving her out of the way and continuing on his way. He had spent months away after Cell's defeat, once more a man lost and unsure of his purpose. His pride in tatters when even Kakarot's brat had surpassed him. Those days remained a blur in his memory as he worked through his rage until it fizzled out and he had nothing left to fuel him. Hollowed out, unfeeling, unmotivated. One moment he wanted to steal the woman's father's ship, blast off into space and challenge every powerful warrior he could find to validate his own strength. Take over the Cold empire as he was meant to. In the end, that all felt pointless. A set up for another string of unfortunate failures. Thus, he settled on the only thing that felt familiar, the only thing that brought even the remotest sense of contentment for him: training. Even if it meant suffering the woman and her worthless friends.

"Hello! Earth to Vegeta! Did you hear a word I said?" Bulma swapped the half asleep child to her other hip. "I know you decided to disappear on me and your child for months, but surely that didn't affect your hearing!"

He wished it had, her shrill shrieks unfriendly to sensitive ears and already threatening a pounding headache. "I heard you, woman," he growled, making to shove forward only for her to shift in front of him. Marriage to a weak Earth woman who could not even fight...he could hear his ancestors laughing in Hell. The only attributes she possessed he would consider remotely worthwhile were her decent looks and intellect when it came to technology. Nothing marriageable about her to a true Saiyan. Not to mention her obvious desire for Kakarot no matter how she tried to hide it. In his time there, he found Earth's ideals, especially those surrounding marriage and mating, starkly differed from those of Saiyans. And not for the better. They craved companionship and what they called love as the highest goals in their lives. They would set aside everything for it, change themselves for it, no matter how long or hard they worked to achieve whatever goals they had before. Saiyans rarely married, even his parents married as a mere show of power, the Saiyan King with their most powerful, accomplished, and terrifying general. They mated when they chose, and if a brat resulted from it, it didn't always mean they stuck around as a pair. Here he found, that was taboo. Unacceptable and improper.

"And just why do you think I would want to marry the likes of you?" he asked, hoping a thinly veiled insult would upset her and send her crying to her parents or that beta male she still fucked around with.

His words only deepened her glare and she stood her ground. "Are you kidding me?" She pointed at the brat, now babbling and tugging on the neckline of her shirt. "You knocked me up, you creep! It's the right thing to do, and you owe me and Trunks at least that!"

"Because you weren't throwing yourself at me the moment the damn Namek dragon sent us all back to Earth." He could insult her, belittle her, nearly kill her friends, treat her like utter trash and order her around like a damn servant day in and day out and she still flirted and tried to bed him. The meaner he was, the hornier it made her. Of course he caved eventually; he had needs, too. He hadn't even thought of impregnating her, his bestial instincts begging him for release in more carnal avenues and blinding him to the possibility in the moment. He stupidly forgot their races were even genetically compatible. She wanted to fuck, he needed release; the answer was simple at the time. "I don't owe you shit, woman, now get the hell out of my way before I force you out of the way."

"After I let you live, eat, and train here for free, you really think you don't owe me anything? I don't think you've ever even said thank you!"

Vegeta rolled his eyes. He had had enough of her shit for another few months. He shoved forward only to be blocked again. His temper flared, hackles rising in warning.

Bulma merely scoffed. "You need to man up, Vegeta. Own up to your 'mistakes'," she huffed and yanked a strand of her hair out of the child's clutches before he could stick it in his mouth. "I'm going to be straight with you since no one else--not even yourself--will. Your entitled, cocky prince act was cute at first, but it got old real quick. Your outbursts and temper tantrums are childish. Newsflash, Vegeta! You're not even a prince anymore! Your planet and people are gone, and the few left would never bow to you! You're not royalty, and no one will ever treat you like it! Get over it and stop acting like a baby. You have a child now, I'm going to be your wife, and you're going to learn to live here like a responsible, normal person!"

Had she spewed this drivel a few months, a few years ago, he might have blasted her where she stood for her disrespect. The emptiness inside him kept him from caring about her stupid opinions, her expectations of him, the grains of truth in her prattle. He did not care if she thought him a "real man." He did not even care that she insulted his title, his bloodline, or attacked a sensitive subject she could not begin to understand the gravity of. But the attack on his pride as a Saiyan, to order him to conform to her idealistic model of normalcy and perform the part of the happy husband and father, roles he didn't care to fill with the likes of her...that threatened to put her through the wall she stood in front of.

"That's rich coming from a spoiled brat like you," he snarled. She didn't know shit about him and she didn't try either. Why the hell would he want to bond himself with a woman like her? His dark eyes found her blue ones, the darkness in him bubbling to the surface. "Say one more word to me today and I'll rip your voice box from your throat."

This time, Bulma stepped back, her spine meeting the wall as she swallowed. He could smell her fear, no matter how little her stubborn frown wavered. He huffed and moved past her, stomping toward the glass doors at the end of the hall that would lead him onto the manicured lawn still drenched in the morning dew.

"How typical! Hear something you don't like and you throw a fit! Solve all your problems with violence like the ape you are!"

Vegeta halted halfway to the door. Every muscle in his body tensed as a war for control raged inside him. His mind had converted Bulma's voice to Frieza's, the slur and similar ones echoing in his skull joined by the cruel laughter that often accompanied it. One fist slammed into the wall beside him while the other clutched his head. He had to move. Get out of that damn hallway and away from the damn woman. He could hear the brat screaming from somewhere far away, his mother trying to hush him and throwing another insult his way.

He willed his feet to walk. Once outside, he shot into the sky. Away from Capsule Corp. Away from the city. He would not suffer her shit another second that day.

Glass and bone crunched beneath his boot, fresh blood further staining once ivory leather. The screams and groans of pain had subsided, the only sounds around him the crackle of flames and the occasional whistle of the wind. The scent of death and burning flesh filled his nostrils, fueling the adrenaline still pumping through his veins.

He kicked a corpse aside--a soldier, if the armor meant anything--and tapped the button on his scouter with bloodied fingertips to perform a scan of the area. See if any unlucky fools escaped his initial razing of the planet. He had the whole assignment to himself. Nappa had protested; the planet had been in rebellion for quite some time and housed unexpectedly powerful warriors in great numbers. How even the strongest warriors could fall when outnumbered. Vegeta ignored him and threatened to toss him out an airlock if he tried to follow without his say so. It would be a worthy test of his strength, an uninhibited and untethered display of his power, if the reports had any merit.

As it turned out, they didn’t. Not that he could see.

His scouter beeped three times as it picked up a reading, the yellow characters flashing on the red glass indicating it originated behind him. Close, weakened if ever strong. Attuned ears picked up the slow approach with one foot landing heavier on the pavement than the other, a poor attempt at stealth. One left. And here he thought he had been thorough…

“You damn monster,” the lone survivor croaked behind him. Vegeta opened his eyes enough to note the surge in his power level on his scouter, a light behind him lengthening his shadow. So, he would fight to his last breath.

The Saiyan turned on his heel to face his heckler, tongue lashing out to lick gore--his or someone else’s, he didn’t know or care--from his face. The local had definitely been caught in the crossfire, armor cracked and broken, his body littered with bruises and painted with blood. He put all his weight on his right leg, the left hanging limply beside it. He held a ball of ki in his hand, though the light guttered with the fading of his energy.

“How very original,�� Vegeta drawled. Terrifying speed placed him directly in front of the dying soldier. He gripped his wrist and snapped it back in a sickening crack, sending the attack meant for him jetting into space. The man howled in pain, widening the smirk the Saiyan wore.

“Y-you’re no better than him...than Frieza!”

His smirk fell into a tight frown, and his grip tightened. “You’re right.” Vegeta raised his hand level with the soldier’s face. “I’m much, much worse.”

Vegeta fired the blast at Kakarot. Point-blank range and putting him on guard with no chance for immediate retaliation. He had to be if he wanted to protect all those people spectating in the stands behind him. He watched as the force behind the energy forced him back, back, back. Until he finally had to relent and fly out of its path. Yellow light soared into the crowd and exploded through the cement structure, a path of ruin left in its wake through the city beyond. Screams of terror and anguish filled the air, a symphony to the Saiyan’s ears.

Finally. Finally he would get what he wanted, what he craved for all these years: revenge. To best Kakarot and once and for all reclaim his rightful place as the most powerful Saiyan in existence. Babadi’s magic did no more than reach into the depths of his mind, his soul, and resurrect Vegeta. Tearing the man once feared the universe over, the savage and ruthless destroyer, from the shallow, unmarked grave he himself had shoved him into. For comfort. For ease. For conformity on this wretched planet. The fingers of the wizard’s black magic plucked the pesky attachments he developed from his mind like overzealous weeds. Vegeta, the Prince of all Saiyans was whole once more, beaten down pride and burning rage reignited and flaring hotter than any star.

They called his decision to succumb to Babidi’s mind control weakness. Slavery. No. The wizard had no more control of him than anyone else should have these past years. He felt more powerful than he ever had. He raised his hand again and shot another blast into the crowd. This. This was what he wanted. He would not let anyone or anything stand in the way of his battle with Kakarot. Not the Kai. Not Gohan. Not this Buu creature or Babidi. They settled this today. He would reclaim his honor, his destiny.

He would stand in Kakarot’s shadow no longer.

Vegeta struggled against the powerful arms that restrained him, tail lashing in fury as he fought with fists, feet, and teeth against Frieza’s goons. He could hear Nappa bringing up the rear, pleading the young Saiyan’s case with Frieza: he was young and hadn’t learned to respect his betters, his mourning made him mouthier, that he would handle punishment himself and ensure it never happened again, anything other than locking him away like that, to lock him up in there instead. They both knew his words fell flat in the tyrant’s ears; Vegeta had finally crossed the line and told the emperor just what he thought of him and Frieza did not tolerate insubordination.

The soldiers tossed the young Saiyan to the back of the dark room. He roared and darted forward, only to collide with the cold metal of the door slamming in his face. He only just registered the pain it caused, already launching himself for the door again, intent on busting it open. He screamed and rammed into the door, bellowed for Nappa to let him out this instant. Deep down he knew his protests were swallowed by the darkness that encompassed him in the small space, but it didn’t stop him from yelling until his throat was raw. From bashing his full weight into the door until his small frame went numb.

Furious, he bounded back. Ki built in his palms and he shot every ounce of energy he had toward the door. The blast rebounded straight back and struck him in the chest. The force knocked the wind from his lungs and smashed him into the wall behind him. His body slid to the ground and he laid still. Limp, too weak to move.

It was too easy to lose track of time in that pitch black cell, and he did not know how long he lay there. Light filtered into the room as the door cracked open. Freedom! He willed himself to fly toward it as a tray with a paltry sum of food was set on the cold floor along with a glass of water. Vegeta nearly grasped the edge of the door but, once more, it slammed in his face and nearly took his fingers with it. He growled, his throat screeching in protest at the guttural sound. He felt along the edges of the door--or what he thought were the edges of the door--for any kind of hand hold. A way to grip it and force it open. Sealed tight, as expected. He kicked the tray into the wall in his stubborn frustration.

He counted six meals. Six failed attempts at escaping. Sometimes, he woke up from his slumber, and when he felt around the cell, he found the food waiting for him. Missed opportunities. The meals barely kept him alive and awarded him no energy. He slept more often than not, plagued by dreams of spending the rest of his life there. The deaths of his parents and people burning up in the wake of an exploding planet. Nappa and Raditz being tortured in his absence...He always woke up in a tighter ball after such nightmares, tail squeezing him in makeshift protection…

Light flared and burned his eyes, causing him to hiss and tuck his face into his chest and arms. Large hands slipped beneath him and scooped him up. His tail bristled in warning and his body stiffened, all senses on high alert. The restraints held fast, the familiar scent of the Saiyan general filling his nose and calming him. Nappa carried him out of the cell, and Vegeta buried his face in his armor, fighting the tears of anguish that threatened to fall.

Before long, he was deposited onto his bed. The young Saiyan prince squirmed beneath the blanket and faced the wall in his bunk, knees tucked to his chest. He heard Raditz shift above him but his light snoring remained uninterrupted. He held his blankets tight around him, clutching them like a lifeline and laid perfectly still. He still felt tired, drained, but his eyes remained wide open and set on the wall. He never knew he could miss a bed or a pillow so much. Or the sound of Raditz snoring. Or light.

After a long while, hours perhaps, he heard Nappa sigh; he had forgotten the general remained in the room at all. “I’m sorry, kiddo...so damn sorry.” He spoke in nearly a whisper, his typically strong and boisterous voice close to shaking. “I wish I could protect you like your parents wanted...like you deserve.”

Vegeta’s grip tightened on the blanket that failed to warm him. He felt cold. Always so cold. “Feeling sorry for yourself won’t do you any good, Nappa,” he mumbled, a half-hearted reprimand in comparison to his usual temper. He turned to face Nappa, staring him down with a blank expression and hollow eyes. “Mother, father...everyone else is dead. We survived, and we’ll keep doing it...no matter what it takes.”

He paused, swallowing the lump in his throat. “We’re the lucky ones.”

Upbeat dance music filtered up to the balcony on a light summer breeze to the balcony on the other side of Capsule Corp. where Vegeta had taken refuge from the ongoing celebration. No one noticed his exit, and he had no qualms with that. While most left him to his own devices, he tired of the idle conversation, the laughter and music. Thus, he snatched up a cooler of beer and took off to the other side of the building, settling in at a table on one of the balconies.

He tipped the bottle back and drained the rest of its contents. He threw it into the air, toward the setting sun, and blasted it into nothing. Since Majin Buu’s defeat, he felt as if he floated through space and time, a phantom going through the motions of a routine that felt more pointless by the day. Not even training held his interest long and, more often than not, he found himself flying around the planet aimlessly but pretending to have a purpose.

Kakarot had once more proven himself the better warrior and killed Buu. He swallowed his pride and accepted it, accepted the fact that he would forever be second place. In the moment, he thought acceptance would free him and perhaps it had at the time. But as time passed and he returned to life on Earth playing the role of husband for show and father and took up his training regimen...a weight bore down on him, growing heavier each day. He grew restless and craved direction, purpose. How long had he chased that dream of revenge? Of surpassing Kakarot and anyone else who challenged his birthright as the most powerful Saiyan--no, being--in existence? After losing Raditz and Nappa, being humiliated on Earth and Namek...he had clung to the only things he truly understood: rage, pride, and vengeance.

Vegeta reached down to fish out another beer from the icy confines of the cooler. He flicked the cap off with his thumb and pressed it to his lips, draining half the bottle in a single gulp. He considered the idea of taking the spaceship and wandering the universe that always lingered at the back of his mind. Search for warriors to train with, test his limits and break them and the monotony. The desire to conquer and claim what his father promised him had faded to a fever dream. He lacked the patience it required these days. As usual, he squashed the idea before it could spur him into action.

Maybe someday he would find something that sparked the fire in him again, gave him purpose. Or he would spend the rest of his days in inanity, performing a part in a play he neither tried out for or wanted. Waiting for the next tragedy to befall the Earth or universe so he could feel alive for a day or two or until the threat was exterminated, likely by Kakarot. And then the cycle would repeat: he would train to get stronger, a new threat arises, Kakarot proves he’s more powerful. Maddening. Unfulfilling. Reality.

He let his head fall back and watched the whisps of clouds lazily sail through the darkening sky. What had Frieza told him when he found out about the destruction of his planet and people? That he was one of the lucky ones. Lucky...by Earthling standards, many had told him that for one reason or another: you have a hot, rich “wife” and don’t need to work, a place to live and food to eat, a healthy son, the fact that he was alive to live the next day. Nothing that truly mattered to him; an ideal Earth life did not appeal to his Saiyan warrior mentality. In fact, he could not think of a single moment in his life where he would consider himself lucky, even with Frieza dead and unable to be the source of his despair.

Raised voices and laughter from inside shifted his attention to the glass doors. Kakarot had finally showed up. His friends surrounded him like flies on shit, grinning and laughing with the buffoon like he had been there all day. Even his shrew of a wife who had complained about his absence all afternoon to anyone who would listen smiled in welcome. Kakarot...the damn bastard. He drank the last of his beer and stood up.

Vegeta had lost everything else--his title, his race, his birthright--but, as he stared down his longtime rival from behind a pane of glass, he knew he could cling to one, single truth: he was a warrior. Always would be. And he would never stop pushing and breaking his limits his way.

#royallunatiic #vegeta #fanfic #fanfiction #db fanfiction #dbz fanfiction

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 5 years ago

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The Lion King (2019)

Great films make you feel the whole range of human emotions. I’ve felt deep, abiding sadness, soaring joy, and even personal betrayal at the hand of some of the best movies I’ve ever seen. But rarely have I ever felt so insulted as I did at the hands of this soulless, charmless, bloodless shot-for-shot remake of one of the greatest animated films of all time. I call this the Circle of LIES. What went wrong here? Well...

Just like...so much, you guys. I’m not going to recap the story for you because you already know it and also, this version did not change one goddamn thing in terms of plot, other than to make things take longer and feel simultaneously slower and faster and also worse. This is the opposite of Hakuna Matata.

A LOT OF THOUGHTS:

I would like to start by recognizing the technical achievements of this film in terms of pushing movie-making technology forward. They created an entire virtual reality landscape and populated it with all these animals in order to capture the actors’ performances. That’s pretty rad, man, that’s like James Cameron inventing whole new ways of making movies just cause he has a boner for the Titanic. But as with all new technology, I think we could have used a lot less “could we?” and a lot more “SHOULD we?”

We start off fairly promising. “Circle of Life” gave me chills for about 2 seconds when the female solo vocalist came in and the animals were gathering and for a second my nervous system was just reacting to the majesty and the overwhelming noise of it all and I got the good shivers and that was great. And then I saw Rafiki and my spine jumped out of my body and noped the fuck out of there.

I’m taking a stand. I hate CGI monkeys. Hate them. There is nothing creepier or more disturbing. The more photorealistic you attempt to make it, the more uncanny valley it gets, but if it’s not realistic it’s also somehow worse? And Disney is obsesssssssed with CGI monkeys, particularly this year. Dumbo? Horrifying monkey. Aladdin? Even worse monkey in a starring role. This film? Constant close-up shots of the monkey who has a big stick that he uses AS A WEAPON. #banCGImonkeys2k20

I try not to rag on child actors - I’ll save my ire for the multibillion-dollar corporation that is responsible for hiring them - but like, I will say this. JD McCrary, who plays the voice of Young Simba, is...no JTT, you feel me? Is it fair to compare this kid’s performance to what is, arguably, the greatest child voice acting role ever recorded in a Disney film? I would argue if you don’t want comparisons, don’t remake the film in the first motherfucking place.

One of the things I hate most about these “live action” remakes is that the villains are a lot less campy and a lot more serious. They’re not having any FUN with their evil, they’re just in it for power or glory or some fucking thing but we’ll never know really understand why because all of their personality has been converted to wallpaper paste. That being said, I felt Scar (Chiwetel Ejiofor) was able to provide the best prototype I’ve seen so far for what these superserious edgelord villains could look like going forward. His voice performance was probably the one I was most impressed with, and he was able to imbue Scar with some real potent, seething resentment behind the mask of a lion’s face that barely moves. He’s even pretty scary at moments, so I welcomed that wholeheartedly amongst the emotionless drivel I was being served by pretty much everyone else.

Do you know what the most unnerving horror movie I have seen this year is? It’s not Midsommar or Us. It’s the voice of a young child, scraped and broken, crying, “Dad? Dad...wake up!” from behind the face of an unmoving, unblinking lion cub. I didn’t cry. I only stared in mute, unflinching horror at the unholy abomination Disney had wrought.

It feels like an honest-to-god personal attack that “Can You Feel the Love Tonight?” is sung during the MOTHERFUCKING DAY TIME. It’s the sunniest it’s ever been! You know the peace the evening brings that they’re singing about? Well they sure as shit don’t since it’s 2:00 in the afternoon and literal sunbeams are dappling over their creepy, unmoving lion faces! Do you...do you understand how much of an affront it is to know that there is a board room full of men (cause let’s be realistic here) at Disney right now, and when they were doing the storyboards for this film, they presented this part and someone probably said, “Hey uh...is it a problem that they’re singing ‘Can You Feel the Love Tonight’ when it’s daytime out?” and the entire room burst into laughter because it literally doesn’t fucking matter to them because this movie is going to make ONE BILLION DOLLARS no matter what.

Also? Unpopular opinion alert. Beyonce is not a great voice actress. And she was not the right choice for “Can You Feel the Love at Midday” because that is meant to be a hushed, quiet, magical moment shared with her childhood friend and burgeoning love, and instead Beyonce is turning it into Sunday church. That’s not her fault! Don’t hire Beyonce if you don’t want her to y’know, BE BEYONCE. But it absolutely does not fit the vibe of what’s happening here and it makes an already completely ludicrous scene even more ridiculous, if you can believe it.

Of the 10% of the movie that is anything even remotely original (Keegan Michael Key and Eric Andre as the comic relief hyenas; Billy Eichner and Seth Rogen riffing as Timon and Pumbaa, respectively), half of it is pretty great. I really enjoyed the comedic beats and thought Rogen and Eichner especially were a much-needed highlight. The other half (a filler scene to answer the question no one asked about “how did Nala leave Pride Rock without Scar noticing?” and an extended 5-minute montage of Simba’s hair traveling a la the feather from Forrest Gump and floating to Rafiki so he could do some gross poop hair magic) is unnecessary to the point of being offensive.

Did I Cry? No the fuck I did not and that is a PROBLEM. I felt nothing. No wonder. No magic.

Feel free to make up your own mind - I’m never here to tell you what to do. But in a world where the 1994 film still exists, I ask you to consider - REALLY consider - how you would like to view this story of loss and growth and taking responsibility for yourself and those around you.

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

#119in2019 #the lion king 2019 #the lion king 2019 review #the lion king #disney #chiwetel ejiofor #beyonce #seth rogen #billy eichner #jd mccrary #simba #mufasa #timon and pumbaa #rafiki #Movie Reviews #film reviews

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thelimeonade · 6 years ago

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Introducing my WIPs

As requested by the very welcoming, funny @zburatorii

Evolve: to forget is my current online WIP! You can find it on Wattpad by clicking on here! It is the first part of a trilogy! It’s dystopian\Utopian along with adventure, fiction with side themes such as thriller, romance. The book revolves in the future after WW8 has been declared over, leaving mankind on the verge of extinction and now all inhabiting a small area in, what was previously known as, Western Europe. They are now all united under one flag, one crown, one government: The United Kingdom of Mekar. -->Le blurp\Description: Man's greed for power and dominance has always been the reason. The greatest proof of this is the Era of the inhumane, barbaric World Wars which sent mankind scuttling to unite their numbers to avoid extinction. Limited to a small area in - what was once - Western Europe, a new civilization awoke: The United Kingdom of Mekar. Divided into eight sections plus the Royal Capital of Orbis. The most brutal, yet efficient, way of survival where 'To Forget is To Evolve', with it the past has been demolished with ferocity to avoid another uprising risking their extinction. Many believe that those ways are effective. But there are others who strongly beg to differ; however, they can't expose themselves as it meant risking their lives. Emilia Adonis, a 25 year old woman from Hell-Bay, the most discarded section of Mekar, has been chosen by King Jayden to represent her section in The Versency - the royal race that takes place every time the King or Queen of Mekar dies. The greatest event in the history of the Kingdom where death becomes your constant companion with the final line either being your ultimate death in the most gruesome way, or the throne of Mekar. With the fate of thousands of Hell-Bayers resting on her shoulder, Emilia strives to reach the throne and end the period of negligence that loomed over the section ever since its formation (due to the fact that no Hell-Bay contestant has ever won The Versency). She teams up with Zain and Hailey Hill, twins from Hell-Bay whose future is also dependent on the throne. They all face problems igniting between them along with the trail of mercenaries and royal beasts unleashed on the contestants. But what exactly happens when a lot more than beasts are threatening your life? When those who abide by the system meet the rebels? When the past clashes with the present, affecting the future and nothing is as it seems? When the race becomes a prison with no way out whether you win or lose? [P.s. Thanks to @mediocre-prose for promoting this book]

Pontifex this is an under-development book that is not published online nor is placed on draft; however, all the ideas and main plot points are written down in a notebook. This book is action\crime following serial killer and hit-man Xavier Pontifex also known as The Phoenix who has been active for over a total of twenty years without leaving a single trace behind. It’s part one of a two book series. [Second book follows Xavierre Pontifex, his daughter] --> le blurp\Description: Xavier Pontifex: A man who has the looks, the charm, the strength, the agility, the wit and the reflex to rule the entire world single handed without failing. He may look like the typical person, with a normal job, but what he harbors underneath is much darker. Being a professional killer, a hit-man, a serial killer that leaves no piece of evidence or trace behind, sending the world into chaos as they try to find out his identity, labeling him as ‘The Phoenix’ always comes with a price. From the streets of Florence, Italy to those of New York, U.S.A. we follow Xavier Pontifex on his journey for self-comfort and ridding himself of the demons in his head, his own twin brother. Facing more conflicts than ever and realizing that the rule ‘Only a life can pay for another’ is much more than it really is…

Onyx Ivories is an online work on Wattpad that is on pause and editing since I realized that dumbass me forgot to write down VERY IMPORTANT KEY POINTS THROUGHOUT THE BOOK and now shit is ruined. It’s an action fiction but you won’t find that out until the second part in the book [Since the book is split into two major parts and an epilogue] P.s. the blurp is misleading (because I am an evil writer) You can check itout by clicking here!! --> le blurp\Description: Aqua Abraham steps off the bus into Pyro Camp where she intends to achieve all her dreams with one stone - winning her Ex back, Julian Monroe, as well as a scholarship. By rolling her onyx 5 ten-sided dice given to her on her first night, she's given one unique 5-digit code that's her key to everything around the camp along with adventures, little does she know the secrets that the code with the dice hold. It won't only lead her to all her dreams but also something much bigger.

Extinct Galactic MY BABY, MY PRIDE AND JOY, MY MOST DEVELOPED LIL CUPCAKE WHO I AM INTENDING FOR PUBLISHING!!!! It’s a four to six book series!!! And the plot and idea is too big to fit here but I’ll be sharing Excerpts of it here! (better than the last shitty one that you can read over here, I promise) It’s a sci-fi\Fantasy series THAT WILL BLOW YOUR WIG OFF ALL THE WAY TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE UNIVERSE!!! [Hopefully....] For more details click heeeereeee!! (p.s. Characters page is still a wip) --> faint blurp: When the Creator of all Life –Pratham– is gone, killed by the Council of the Universe, and Death–Azazel lives on, the Council would do anything to right their wrong before Azazel’s darkness wipes the entire universe out. Including exterminating an entire race, an entire galaxy to find life again. --> a few quotes: “Perhaps we were created to die in order to right a wrong. We were never meant to exist.” -Aximus Power [Book Character] “Today, we write history. We will no longer be degraded as Dunams, we will show them what mankind, children of Milkyway, has to offer of courage, loyalty and wits.” -Kahera [Book Character] “I didn’t know what you have done to save us. I only saw a self-centered, demanding, spoiled brat Queen on a throne... not the selfless warrior who drained herself every single day to keep us alive in secret.” -Ximen Cysgod [Book Character] “You have disowned her, you have treated her like scum, you have let her die in vain, you didn’t do shit to stop Jobiia from taking her when she had given up everything to save us! To save the people who had abandoned her! and now you dishonor her last wishes? How fucking dare you?” -Frontress Pulse [Book Character]

yes I have a wip that’s based off Egyptian Mythology but no details yet

I have a million old ideas that I am thinking about rewriting but let’s just get through this first

I also have a sappy romance novel that.... will never see light

Welp. That’s all for now!!!!

As you can see I am quite experienced in multiple genres so I can give you a billion tips on how to survive!

Tell me which WIP is by far the one you are most excited to read!!!

Please reblog and/or like this if you like my WIPs introduction and want to see more! Follow me if you are feeling kind and I’ll follow you back and whoever reblogs this!!!

I LOVE YOU ALL *drops microphone*

Feel free to send me any questions, requests, asking for help, compliments, whatever you like by clicking here!

For my latest Tips on ‘How to write an Evil character’ click here!

For more about me click here!!!

For my Lime-blr (Writeblr) intro, click here!! [idk why I added it... just felt like it]

#writer #writers #new writeblr #writeblr #new writers on tumblr #new writerblr #new writer #my wips #wips #so many wips #too many wips #thelimeonade #Extinct Galactic #im dying #book #my book #idk how to tag this

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ur-mom-kayn · 6 years ago

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Loyalty Chapter 9: Daily Life without the Master

Kayn Pov

It was incredibly difficult for Zed to leave. It was hard to see him in the last few seconds, not even his face as they stood in front of the assembled team. Just leaving his room with him put a stab in his heart. As good as possible he tried to suppress his true feelings or to extinguish them completely. Not so easy when you felt something like love for the person. Since Kayn but wanted to keep the respect of his master, he broke his feelings. He should not be remembered as a weak little boy. Which is why he seemed almost too cold.

...

In the evening, the Order ate for the first time without her master. It was very strange to sit at the head without Zed at his side. Kayn was so free and did what no one dared. He took Zed's cabin and set it on the wall behind him. Finally, he could see the men to his left. But that was not enough. Nobody dared to eat. They all waited for Zed's release, but he was not there. Kayn stood up and pointed to all his comrades. "People the world does not go down just because Master Zed is not here now. Together we'll turn the store around, and I'll guide you as long as he's not there." "But did not Master Zed tell us to divide the tasks among us?" Asked Akio, one of the men from the beginning were at it. Unfortunately, Kayn did give a fuck about his opinion.

"As you may know, I am originally from a state where anarchy prevails. I tell you that system goes in the pants. If everyone does what they want, then we end up in chaos here very quickly. We depend on a leader." "And that you should be? Little one, you're too young." Sometimes, Akio was pretty much upset. He always thought he was better, just because he was one of Zed's trusted people. He never saw his face. That's why he was able to cross it.

"And yet I'm better than you. But that's not the point here. I never said that I intend to order you around. I just wanted to tell you that as a mediator I will divide the tasks among us. Zed wrote me a list of things we need to do. If everyone picks something out, it ends in the fight. That's why I choose. Be angry with me in the end and not on your comrades. I have no problem with being an asshole. Anyway, you will act like a kind of minister and specialize in the field. But before we get to the layout, eat something." Kayn sat down again and picked up his chopsticks. Today there was again delicious chicken with rice and vegetables. Before it gets too cold, he decided to prefer the food. That gave the others time to think about what they said. Akio felt badly offended, so he did not speak a word. It was better that way.

While he ate, he went through Zed's list. He wanted to do everything he could to impress Zed, but that was not in the spirit of the Master. In addition, there were also annoying tasks that would like to do without. Keyword: accounting. There was certainly a couple of specialists here. Of course, in Zed's files, he had previously informed himself extensively about each of his students and had a closer look at their strengths and weaknesses. Kayn brazenly considered his greatest weakness to be his arrogance. How could that be just a weakness? Apparently, Master Zed did not think of anything better. A perfect being had no weaknesses. Okay, then he heard it in his own mind that he was putting on too much.

Back to his comrades, he enrolled Satoshi and Masato as absolute math geniuses. "Hey Sato and Masa, would you be so correct and watch over the revenue and expenses of the Order? This includes calculating how much of what needs to be purchased. Be it food or toiletries. Everything has to be logged so that you can show everything to Master Zed later on." Satoshi exchanged a brief moment with his brother's looks. After that, he answered. "We can do that." "Well, then that would have been done before. I'll show you later how Zed would like that." " Hoooold on, you just want to break into Zed's room like that?" Masato asked him. He was very reverent of Zed and almost never dared to knock on his door. A 'break-in' would be too much for him.

"It is not a burglary if we have the permission, so calm down. In addition, the room is almost my 2nd home. So it really should not be a problem. So now we have clarified that we come to the next point. Due to excellent strategic achievements, I would like to ask Haru and Nakuri to take over the missions. Is that clear?" "Definitely brother," Nakuri answered. Haru agreed with a nod. At least that was what he left. So that Akio but not too short, he had a job for him. "Yo Akio, can you please talk to clients? You have such a beautiful, deep voice. It's pretty close to Zeds. In addition, you are one of the elders here and know Zed's way of speaking to customers best. So?" "Sure ... " His euphoria was limited. No wonder after the swipe of yesteryear.

"Last but not least, there is one of the most important tasks that I naturally assign to myself. I will take over the training with the chest. The shade makes me the most loving of all, so I'd better direct the training. The decision of who is allowed to complete the training, we take all in the elite. If 80% of us agree with the candidate, then an acolyte is allowed to complete the training. I think that's fair. The goal is that in the end, all of Zed's students become strong Shadow Assassins. That's why we have to push everyone to a high level. Everyone who has gotten a job must not neglect his normal training hours. I expect you to work overtime. If it gets too much for you, then get yourself a helping hand. Otherwise, I wish you good luck. "

...

And so passed the time. Everyone took on his new role and sank into work. Especially Kayn got pretty clean. When he assisted his people in weapon training, he immediately trained his own body. After that, there was mostly food, that he too 'led'. At the table, the results of the day were gathered together. Everyone had something to report, not just his 'ministers'. Since Zed's absence, his men were more welded together. And that was a good thing. After dinner, there was open shadow training every day at 10pm for Zeds Elite, led by Kayn. Everyone thought he was doing a damn good job, despite his young age. Over time, he was even able to maintain the shadow marks longer than just during exercise. Unfortunately, it was not enough to go on a mission and savor this power.

The only one who could permanently maintain it was Master Zed himself. Occasionally Kayn could see his marks when he wore only a shirt. His marks were light gray and covered his skin like a tattoo. Kayns was dark blue and had a different pattern. Unfortunately, they disappeared after a maximum of 5 hours. There had to be a way to extend that time. The young acolyte put on the fact that Zed had more training on the box than he. Which is why he did not miss an evening to complete this training.

...

As the months went by, more and more people were worried about Kayn, if he might not take over. Kayn hardly slept anymore, as he definitely did not want to neglect the training of others. His body only got a rest during meditation and nothing else. One night after the shadow training, Nakuri went to his room. He did not like how he found Kayn there. The boy lay on his exercise mat and consistently pulled his push-ups. His body was by no means that of a 16-year-old. He already looked like 21 years and he definitely had this maturity. Kayn did well without Zed, to surprise the others, but still, it was not healthy for him to take on himself.

"Yo brother take a break. Not even half an hour did you train with the chest." "That's why I'm doing this. I have to use the power before it disappears again." Nakuri noticed that it almost did not make sense to argue with him. Kayn was not only arrogant until he left, he was also a real stubborn skull. That's why he just threw himself in Kayn's bed and stared at the ceiling. "Master Zed will be back soon. Are you excited?" "Yes ... ", Kayn could hear the effort clearly in his voice. "I can understand. He has pretty high expectations of you. Sometimes I'm really happy not to be you. But remember, your brothers are always there for you. So if we should help you, say so." For a moment Kayn stopped his training. He lay on his back and washed the beads of sweat from his face with a towel. He was breathing heavily, but he was still in control.

"Thanks, Nakuri, but I can do it. I want Master Zed to see what kind of man I have become. As you may have noticed, I am now 16, but still not on a mission. Zed promised to kill with me together. I do not want to disappoint him."

"So so. And what was that 2 years ago? You had sneaked out. It is rumored that you had a mission because, surprisingly, suddenly we had quite a bit of money. Come on Kayn, tell me the truth. "

"Okay, okay, I already had my first mission with Zed. But that was illegal, so we decided to sweep this mission under the carpet. In addition, Zed learned then from the league, which is why I was then rather depressed.

"Yes, I remember. The cold-hearted Kayn was really scary. Do me a favor Kayn and never lose your nice laugh."

Skeptically, Kayn looked over at Nakuri. What should that mean? Nice laugh ... Basically, Kayn never got smart out of the guy. Nakuri noticed that he was being watched and straightened up so he could make eye contact with Kayn. "What's brother?" "What do you mean by a nice laugh? Are you gay or something?" "No brother, I'm just talking about your positive nature. We all had a bad past here and sank into the darkness with our hearts. You may have the most bizarre story here by a long shot, but you've come out of this hell with pride, and you're giving us all the joy and hope here. You have deeply impressed us all and especially Zed. I understand why he likes you so much."

Kayn lowered his eyes and watched his marks, which slowly dissolved again. With that, his strength disappeared. The more he struggled, the less he could maintain the shadow assassin's form. It sucked. "I do not know Nakuri ... in the end, it's just my noxious blood that forces me to keep going. It does not have much to do with me."

"Do not talk nonsense! A strong will cannot be inherited. You are all alone! Your strength does not come from your origins and not from Zed, but entirely from your heart. It is your willingness to survive. Kayn ... do not doubt about it just because you can not maintain the form. It will be. You'll see. One day, the whole world will fear your name."

"Do you really mean? I think, no matter how strong I get, I always stay in Zed's shadow. However, I do not ever want to fight him. I'm not like him, I will not kill my master. "

"Because you love him ..."

Kayn could not and did not want to say anything about that. That was his secret. Yes, his love for Zed went beyond that of a father, but he would never say it out loud in life. In Zed's eyes, he'll always be a kid, no matter how annoying that may be. Kayn will somehow stand over it. Now he had to first see that he convinced him with his strength. But not today. He was too K.O. to do any more exercise. After a long conversation break, Kayn got up and headed for his bathroom. "I'm taking a shower. Night. "" Goodnight brother. Dream nice." Without looking, if Nakuri really disappeared, he undressed in the bathroom and took a shower.

...

Since talking to Nakuri, Kayn could not think straight. He had been unsure about his feelings towards Zed for some time. His absence tore him inwardly. Often he secretly slept in Zed's bed. His room still smelled strongly of him, which is why Kayn often made himself comfortable there. He not only slept there but also took care of the order. At least once a week he swung the duster. When Zed comes back, everything should be in top condition. Basically, he put a lot of emphasis on perfection. Even though his ministers had their part-tasks, Kayn could not rest and throw his examiner's gaze over everything. If everything was not as Zed wanted, he sounded the alarm. Most of the accounting he banned an alleged, better, optimized system. If Zed did not have an overview, then it was not better.

By now, 10 months had passed since Zed joined the league. Always around October or November, the season ended. Actually, Zed should get 2.5 months vacation then. The more days passed, the more nervous and stressed Kayn became. He trained until he waved, brushed until his hands were already sore, and he drilled his students without end. Zed should be proud of his order. Kayn would take care of that.

...

On October 4, a scout in the dining room stormed in out of breath. Kayn ran to him and ordered one of his comrades to bring him a glass of water. "What's wrong brother?" Kayn asked him. After the young man drunk his glass to the last drop, he finally spoke. "Ma-master Zed ... he-he won the World Cup.", Completely exhausted, the man fell to his knees. All acolytes froze to ice. Nobody really understood what that meant. But it definitely sounded good. "How do you mean? Master Zed is world champion? Please explain that to us. If you catch your breath." The scout waited a moment before speaking again. "Every year there is a World Cup tournament. That's where the best summoners compete against each other. Master Zed is the favorite champion of the best player in the world. He simply destroyed the other teams with him. I saw it on the screens in Piltover. Master Zed was incredibly good. That will bring us a damn lot of fame."

It was cheered and clapped. Everyone was really excited and could not wait to see their champion again. "Tell me, when will Zed come back?" "As far as I know, the season is over in 2 weeks. Then he should come back." So two weeks. Until then, Kayn definitely had to set up a welcome party. Of course with the cash injection of Satoshi and Masato. "Let's raise a big party for Master Zed!" Kayn suggested. His proposal was acclaimed and accepted by all. Now there was nothing in the way of planning.

.......................................

A chapter without Zed :( Buuut you will love the following chapter. I try to prepare the next chapter as fast as possible. I wish you a nice day ^_^

#kayn #zed #kayn x zed #zed x kayn #zeyn #fanfic

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tpanan · 3 years ago

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My Saturday Daily Blessings

August 21, 2021

Be still quiet your heart and mind, the LORD is here, loving you talking to you...........

Memorial of Saint Pius X, Pope (Catholic Observance) Lectionary 424, Cycle B

First Reading: Ruth 2: 1-3a, 8-11; 4:13-17

Naomi had a prominent kinsman named Boaz, of the clan of her husband Elimelech. Ruth the Moabite said to Naomi, “Let me go and glean ears of grain in the field of anyone who will allow me that favor.” Naomi said to her, “Go, my daughter,” and she went. The field she entered to glean after the harvesters happened to be the section belonging to Boaz of the clan of Elimelech.

Boaz said to Ruth, “Listen, my daughter! Do not go to glean in anyone else’s field; you are not to leave here. Stay here with my women servants. Watch to see which field is to be harvested, and follow them; I have commanded the young men to do you no harm. When you are thirsty, you may go and drink from the vessels the young men have filled.” Casting herself prostrate upon the ground, Ruth said to him, “Why should I, a foreigner, be favored with your notice?” Boaz answered her: “I have had a complete account of what you have done for your mother-in-law after your husband’s death; you have left your father and your mother and the land of your birth, and have come to a people whom you did not know previously.”

Boaz took Ruth. When they came together as man and wife, the LORD enabled her to conceive and she bore a son. Then the women said to Naomi, “Blessed is the LORD who has not failed to provide you today with an heir! May he become famous in Israel! He will be your comfort and the support of your old age, for his mother is the daughter-in-law who loves you. She is worth more to you than seven sons!” Naomi took the child, placed him on her lap, and became his nurse. And the neighbor women gave him his name, at the news that a grandson had been born to Naomi. They called him Obed. He was the father of Jesse, the father of David.

Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 128:1b-2, 3, 4, 5

"See how the Lord blesses those who fear him."

Verse before the Gospel: Matthew 23:9b, 10b

R. Alleluia, Alleluia

"You have but one Father in heaven; you have but one master, the Christ."

R. Alleluia, Alleluia

Gospel: Matthew 23:1-12

Jesus spoke to the crowds and to his disciples, saying, “The scribes and the Pharisees have taken their seat on the chair of Moses. Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you, but do not follow their example. For they preach but they do not practice. They tie up heavy burdens hard to carry and lay them on people’s shoulders, but they will not lift a finger to move them.

All their works are performed to be seen. They widen their phylacteries and lengthen their tassels. They love places of honor at banquets, seats of honor in synagogues, greetings in marketplaces, and the salutation ‘Rabbi.’ As for you, do not be called ‘Rabbi.’ You have but one teacher, and you are all brothers. Call no one on earth your father; you have but one Father in heaven. Do not be called ‘Master’; you have but one master, the Christ. The greatest among you must be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled; but whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

**Meditation:

Who doesn't desire the praise and respect of others? We want others to see us at our best with all of our strengths and achievements - rather than at our worst with all of our faults and shortcomings. God sees us as we truly are - sinners and beggars always in need of his mercy, help, and guidance. Jesus warned the scribes and Pharisees, the teachers and rulers of Israel, to teach and serve their people with humility and sincerity rather than with pride and self-promotion. They went to great lengths to draw attention to their religious status and practices. In a way they wanted to be good models of observant Jews. "See how well we observe all the ritual rules and regulations of our religion!" In their misguided zeal for religion they sought recognition and honor for themselves rather than for God. They made the practice of their faith a burden rather than a joy for the people they were supposed to serve.

True respect for God inclines us to humble ourselves and to submit to his wisdom and guidance. We cannot be taught by God unless we first learn to listen to his word and then obey his instruction.

One Father and Teacher Was Jesus against calling anyone a rabbi, the Jewish title for a teacher of God's word (Matthew 23:7-8), or a father? The law of Moses in Scripture specifically instructed all fathers to be teachers and instructors for their children to help them understand and obey God's instructions (Deuteronomy 6:7)? Why did Jesus rebuke the scribes and Pharisees, the religious authorities of the Jewish people, in the presence of his disciples? Jesus wanted to warn both his own disciples and the religious leaders about the temptation to seek honors and titles that draw attention to ourselves in place of God and his word. Pride tempts us to put ourselves first above others.

The Scriptures give ample warning about the danger of self-seeking pride: Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall (Proverbs 16:18). God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6; Proverbs 3:24). Origen of Alexandria (185-254 AD), an early Christian teacher and bible scholar, reminds those who teach and lead to remember that they are first and foremost "disciples" and "servants" who sit at the feet of their Master and Teacher the Lord Jesus Christ:

"You have one teacher, and you are all brothers to each other...Whoever ministers with the divine word does not put himself forward to be called teacher, for he knows that when he performs well it is Christ who is within him. He should only call himself servant according to the command of Christ, saying, Whoever is greater among you, let him be the servant of all."

True humility Respect for God and for his ways inclines us to humility and to simplicity of heart - the willing readiness to seek the one true good who is God himself. What is the nature of true humility and why should we embrace it as essential for our lives? We can easily mistake humility as something demeaning or harmful to our sense of well-being and feeling good about ourselves. True humility is not feeling bad about yourself, or having a low opinion of yourself, or thinking of yourself as inferior to all others. True humility frees us from preoccupation with ourselves, whereas a low self-opinion tends to focus our attention on ourselves. Humility is truth in self-understanding and truth in action. Viewing ourselves honestly, with sober judgment, means seeing ourselves the way God sees us (Psalm 139:1-4).

A humble person makes a realistic assessment of oneself without illusion or pretense to be something one is not. A truly humble person regards oneself neither smaller nor larger than one truly is. True humility frees us to be ourselves as God regards us and to avoid falling into despair and pride. A humble person does not want to wear a mask or put on a facade in order to look good to others. Such a person is not swayed by accidentals, such as fame, reputation, success, or failure. Do you know the joy of Christ-like humility and simplicity of heart?

Humility is the queen or foundation of all the other virtues because it enables us to see and judge correctly, the way God sees. Humility helps us to be teachable so we can acquire true knowledge, wisdom, and an honest view of reality. It directs our energy, zeal, and will to give ourselves to something greater than ourselves. Humility frees us to love and serve others willingly and selflessly, for their own sake, rather than for our own. Paul the Apostle gives us the greatest example and model of humility in the person of Jesus Christ, who emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, and... who humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross(Philippians 2:7-8). Do you want to be a servant as Jesus loved and served others? The Lord Jesus gives us his heart - the heart of a servant who seeks the good of others and puts their interests first in his care and concern for them.

Lord Jesus, you became a servant for my sake to set me free from the tyranny of selfish pride and self-concern. Teach me to be humble as you are humble and to love others generously with selfless service and kindness.

Sources:

Lectionary for Mass for Use in the Dioceses of the United States, second typical edition, Copyright © 2001, 1998, 1997, 1986, 1970 Confraternity of Christian Doctrine; Psalm refrain © 1968, 1981, 1997, International Committee on English in the Liturgy, Inc. All rights reserved. Neither this work nor any part of it may be reproduced, distributed, performed or displayed in any medium, including electronic or digital, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

**Meditations may be freely reprinted and translated into other languages for non-profit use only. Please cite copyright and original source. Copyright 2021 Daily Scripture Readings and Meditation, dailyscripture.net author Don Schwager

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seekfirstme · 3 years ago

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Meditation: Who doesn't desire the praise and respect of others? We want others to see us at our best with all of our strengths and achievements - rather than at our worst with all of our faults and shortcomings. God sees us as we truly are - sinners and beggars always in need of his mercy, help, and guidance. Jesus warned the scribes and Pharisees, the teachers and rulers of Israel, to teach and serve their people with humility and sincerity rather than with pride and self-promotion. They went to great lengths to draw attention to their religious status and practices. In a way they wanted to be good models of observant Jews. "See how well we observe all the ritual rules and regulations of our religion!" In their misguided zeal for religion they sought recognition and honor for themselves rather than for God. They made the practice of their faith a burden rather than a joy for the people they were supposed to serve.

True respect for God inclines us to humble ourselves and to submit to his wisdom and guidance. We cannot be taught by God unless we first learn to listen to his word and then obey his instruction.

One Father and Teacher

Was Jesus against calling anyone a rabbi, the Jewish title for a teacher of God's word (Matthew 23:7-8), or a father? The law of Moses in Scripture specifically instructed all fathers to be teachers and instructors for their children to help them understand and obey God's instructions (Deuteronomy 6:7)? Why did Jesus rebuke the scribes and Pharisees, the religious authorities of the Jewish people, in the presence of his disciples? Jesus wanted to warn both his own disciples and the religious leaders about the temptation to seek honors and titles that draw attention to ourselves in place of God and his word. Pride tempts us to put ourselves first above others.

True humility

Respect for God and for his ways inclines us to humility and to simplicity of heart - the willing readiness to seek the one true good who is God himself. What is the nature of true humility and why should we embrace it as essential for our lives? We can easily mistake humility as something demeaning or harmful to our sense of well-being and feeling good about ourselves. True humility is not feeling bad about yourself, or having a low opinion of yourself, or thinking of yourself as inferior to all others. True humility frees us from preoccupation with ourselves, whereas a low self-opinion tends to focus our attention on ourselves. Humility is truth in self-understanding and truth in action. Viewing ourselves honestly, with sober judgment, means seeing ourselves the way God sees us (Psalm 139:1-4).

Humility is the queen or foundation of all the other virtues because it enables us to see and judge correctly, the way God sees. Humility helps us to be teachable so we can acquire true knowledge, wisdom, and an honest view of reality. It directs our energy, zeal, and will to give ourselves to something greater than ourselves. Humility frees us to love and serve others willingly and selflessly, for their own sake, rather than for our own. Paul the Apostle gives us the greatest example and model of humility in the person of Jesus Christ, who emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, and... who humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross (Philippians 2:7-8). Do you want to be a servant as Jesus loved and served others? The Lord Jesus gives us his heart - the heart of a servant who seeks the good of others and puts their interests first in his care and concern for them.

"Lord Jesus, you became a servant for my sake to set me free from the tyranny of selfish pride and self-concern. Teach me to be humble as you are humble and to love others generously with selfless service and kindness."

HAVE YOU HUGGED YOUR PASTOR TODAY?

“The scribes and the Pharisees have succeeded Moses as teachers; therefore, do everything and observe everything they tell you. But do not follow their example.” —Matthew 23:2-3

At times, people belong to churches where pastors, priests, and ministers do not live holy lives. Some pastors have not even turned their lives over to Jesus. Some stifle the Spirit (1 Thes 5:19) and are even unknowingly used by Satan. What do you do under these circumstances? Do you leave the church? No, you don’t leave the body because of one part.

Your pastor needs love and respect. Give him God’s kind of love: unconditional love. Sure, you and many others may have been hurt by the pastor. You are grieved to see your pastor working for rather than against the devil. Nonetheless, love him unconditionally. God does, and He’s calling you to do the same. Love is “the way which surpasses all the others” (1 Cor 12:31). “Love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Pt 4:8). Love is as strong as death (Sg 8:6, RSV-CE). “Love casts out all fear” (1 Jn 4:18). “Love never fails” (1 Cor 13:8).

It’s still possible that after all that’s happened, you may not be able to love your pastor. Pray for that grace.

Prayer: Father, may our churches be characterized by unconditional love. May I begin a wave of unconditional love. May they know we are Christians by our love (see Jn 13:35).

Promise: “Blessed is the Lord Who has not failed to provide you today with an heir! May he become famous in Israel! He will be your comfort and the support of your old age.” —Ru 4:14-15

Praise: Pope St. Pius X fought modernism by renewing the Church, especially the early reception of the Eucharist.

Reference:

Rescript: "In accord with the Code of Canon Law, I hereby grant the Nihil Obstat for the publication One Bread, One Body covering the time period from August 1, 2021 through September 30, 2021. Reverend Steve J. Angi, Vicar General, Chancellor, Archdiocese of Cincinnati, Cincinnati, Ohio January 12, 2021"

The Nihil Obstat ("Permission to Publish") is a declaration that a book or pamphlet is considered to be free of doctrinal or moral error. It is not implied that those who have granted the Nihil Obstat agree with the contents, opinions, or statements

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swiftmylove · 7 years ago

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REP TOUR MANCHESTER

OKAY so i’ve had time to compose myself, gather my thoughts and rise from the dead after seeing taylor live for the FIRST ever time on 08.06.2018 in manchester sooo i’ve written about my feelings (i learnt from the best 😉) - this is gonna be long so don’t say i didn’t warn ya...

as a child, i got so excited whenever i saw taylor on TV, i thought she looked like an oh so pretty princess in her music videos and i wanted to be her when i grew up. as a teenager, i listened to her music on the way to school and on the way home every day, i used her songs to cope with the stress of exams and the hardships of college, i found an escape in her whenever things got tough at home and i admired how hard she worked to achieve success. now, as an 18 year old, i still admire her work ethic, still find peace and comfort in her music and i still love her... however, i feel these things 100x more intensely because i've had her as a constant in my life whilst growing up. i always dreamt of seeing her live. after years of supporting, adoring and admiring her, I longed to be in her presence, to experience her beauty, her talent, her character and the light of hope she radiates, in person, but, for one reason or another, it never happened. it became one of those things i convinced myself never would happen. it didn't seem realistic. however, on 8th june 2018, all of my wildest dreams came true as i attended the opening night of the U.K. leg of the reputation stadium tour... and it was the BEST feeling in the world.

from the moment i arrived at the venue, i felt safe and at ease. the idea of being surrounded by 50,000+ people seems terrifying but, when they’re swifties, there couldn’t be any less reasons to be scared. to be around people who were as excited as i was, banners in hand, intricate costumes draped over their bodies, just basking in their joy and feeling their energy was EVERYTHING. to everyone there, the show MEANT something. everyone wanted to be there more than anything in the world and it was as if nothing or no one else even existed at that time - all that mattered was taylor and the night we were sharing with her.

from beginning to end, this show was PERFECT. it was unlike anything i’ve ever experienced in my life or WILL ever experience again. i cannot even articulate how spectacular it truly was. from every song, every costume change, every different microphone, every piece of confetti, every firework... every little bit of the concert was what i can only describe as PURE MAGIC and it was a real honour to be able to witness it AND to be so close to the stage.

for the entirety of the show, i felt safe, accepted, supported, free and so warm and fuzzy inside. so much indescribable happiness was flowing through my veins as i watched my angel have the time of her life before my very eyes. taylor made me feel as though i mattered and as though she was singing and speaking directly to me, despite being in a sold out stadium and it takes a special type of person to be able to do that. she truly cares with her entire heart about providing the best experience. even down to the tiny details like the light up bracelets or the fact that she has fricking ‘reputation’ carrier bags at the merch stand, things like that show how she’s so different from any other artist. her heart is as big as the solar system and she wants nothing more than for people to have a good time. she cares about our happiness as much as we care about hers and anyone who was worried about the ticket prices would’ve walked away knowing they’d had their moneys worth!

my highlights from the show included her beautiful, profound manchester speech on the b stage. she spoke with such sincerity about the spirit of the city and how it was an honour to play for us. well, taylor, it was an honour to HAVE you there.

she also stumbled during long live/new year’s day and played the wrong note and her “haha, whoops!” was SO adorable. it proved that, even though she’s a polished pop star, she messes up like the rest of us and isn’t afraid to show she’s human. hearing long live was a particularly special moment for me as it’s my favourite EVER taylor song so i honestly just cried as i sang along with her - it made my heart the fullest. hearing love story live was also a precious moment, it made me feel all nostalgic as it was the first song of hers i ever listened to. i was transported back to being nine years old.

my FAVOURITE songs on reputation are getaway car and i did something bad so those too were just UNREAL. like, literally, i lost my DAMN MIND - those songs were a blur if i’m honest because i truly let loose!

a final highlight was when she, honestly, flew RIGHT over my head in delicate. i found myself thinking “if she were to land on my head right now, i wouldn’t complain” HAHA. never in a million years did i think i’d ever be so close to my idol.

HOWEVER, the best part of the night wasn't the jam packed set list, the glitzy costumes, the flashlights in the crowd or the fireworks that lit up the sky. as brilliant as those things were, for me, the best part of the show was seeing how much TAYLOR enjoyed it. after she experienced such a low time and was left wondering if we’d be there to help her pick up the pieces. after she spent so long questioning herself and her worth. after she spent so long feeling isolated and undeserving of love. after she spent so long being painted as the cold, calculated villain who cares for no one but herself... to see her shining like the true star she is, grinning from ear to ear throughout, delivering spine-chillingly astonishing vocals and dancing without a care in the world, that is the most rewarding thing you can witness, as a fan. to see someone you look up to having used all the world's hatred to create something positive, having turned their pain into energy and feeling refreshed and as if they can conquer the world when, not so long ago, they wondered if it was even worth carrying on, is so fulfilling. i felt the greatest sense of pride to see little country singer taylor swift, who played to cafes at the beginning of her career, play to a sold out stadium of adoring fans who had her back no matter what. it was a real blessing to be at her show.

SO, @taylorswift, all that’s left for me to say is THANK YOU... although, ‘thank you’ will never truly be enough for what you’ve done for me and how you’ve made me feel and CONTINUE to make me feel every single day. no one fills me with happiness in the way that you can or do. no one makes my heart burst like you. no one holds such a special place in my life, only you. what you provided me with that night was hope, love, safety, trust, strength, light, confidence, pride and a damn good party! i can only hope that i shall be in your presence again one day soon, i’d do anything, truly. you are the brightest star in all the sky and truly deserve the whole world. you have always been a great source of inspiration to me and i will continue to adore and admire you for as long as i shall live... i truly have had the time of my life with you, but i don’t plan on disappearing any time soon! i love you with every inch of me, every ounce of my being... you are one in seven billion and i only hope you realise how special and how loved you really are.

so, one last time, THANK YOU. i know i may be just another wide eyed girl who’s desperately in love with you but i shall hold on to this memory, forever and always.

love, emily. x

#taylor swift #reputation #rep tour #rep #taylor #swifties #reputation stadium tour #taylornation #rep tour manchester #rep tour manchester night one #rep tour manchester night 1

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singing-and-stethoscopes-blog · 7 years ago

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what two years of fucking up taught me about grace

I wrote this piece a while ago on a different medium, but it’s interesting how it’s even more relevant to my life now than it was back then. I thought I’d post it as a constant reminder not only to myself, but to anyone else, that things always get better... if you just look for the grace in the pain.

My therapist told me something I find extremely helpful. “Grace in it’s nature is undeserved-- it is an undeserved happiness and sense of peace from God that he wants us to have. Why do you constantly feel as if you have to DO something in order to deserve to be happy? Don’t you think that goes against the very definition of what grace is?”

You deserve to be happy simply because you breathe. Your human soul is what allows you happiness and joy-- it is our birth right. So claim it.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I would bet all of the money in my savings account (read: none) that I have failed quite a bit more than most others this year. From the beginning of 2016 up until this very week, a black cloud of doom and gloom has seemed to follow me everywhere that I go. Two car accidents, three breakups, bombed exams, broken laptops, broken iPhones, forgotten payments, busted ankles, a cyst-filled face, and several episodes of ugly-crying in front of the TV later (Sorry Katie), I am still here but not quite the same.

Of course, I know how pessimistic this sounds- it’s the exact definition of pessimism! It’s easy to wallow in the doom (and believe me, I have), but through my repeated fuck-ups there is something I’ve learned by force: how to fail with grace.

Within the past few months at Children’s, I had my one-year work anniversary. It was a happy day for me, a source of self-esteem and pride during a time when I had little else to feel positive about. I felt like I was actually allowed to tell myself that I knew what I was doing for once. But my first year was filled with more mistakes than successes as I threw myself bottoms-up into the obdurate culture of medicine. I knew how to sing to a filled auditorium, but I couldn’t hold a sick baby while feeding them so as not to occlude their airway. I could harmonize a melody, but I didn’t know what any of the alarms on my patient’s monitor meant or how to turn them off (let’s be honest: I still don’t know what all of them mean). I could memorize entire plays, but I couldn’t draw a priority sodium off of the rambunctious toddler in room 28. Suddenly every bit of knowledge I’d accumulated over a lifetime of being in the arts, something I’d considered my source of self-worth and the measure of all my success, meant absolutely nothing. To quote the illustrious wisdom of Drake, I was starting from the bottom.

I think that failure is God’s greatest tool for teaching humility and perseverance. I have learned, through the unforgiving hand of bad luck, that there is freedom in failure. There is forgiveness. There is liberation. There is joy. In being released from the expectations of others (and even more, the expectations of yourself), you finally come face-to-face with who you really are. You see yourself raw, without the shining of your achievements to illuminate you. You are thrust upon the foundation that built you. You discover what motivates you through the worst days of your life, what gets you up in the morning when you feel like you have nothing left, what takes the air into your lungs and lets you breathe for once in your fucking life (and no, the answer I’m getting at is not negative pressure in the lungs- but good try!).

Failure has taught me who I am. Failure has shown me that it’s okay if I need somebody to show me a couple of times how to feed that baby- and hell, even a fifth or a sixth time if it helps. Failure has humbled me to know that a number at the top of an exam has nothing to do with your worth or your passion. Failure has taught me empathy and understanding that I didn’t know I had. Failure has forced patience into my mind and into my heart, and given me the courage to try again for that priority sodium, to have faith in myself that didn’t exist before, to go for the high note without giving a single flying fuck if I actually hit it or not (I usually don’t, and that’s okay too). Failure has made me a better musician. Failure will make me a better nurse.

And now for the biggest cliché of them all, but it’s true: failure has made me a better person.

So as much as I’ve thrown up my hands and cried to the Father that made me, and as much as I’ve asked Him why, and as much as I’ve struggled to accept the reality He’s given me from time to time, I’ve also learned that it’s through this failure that He has redeemed me. Without the chains of everyone else’s expectations, I am free to live only for the things that give me life. I’ve learned what those things are. I wake up every day trying to put as much love as I can into this flawed world, because there is no “requirement” you have to meet for that. You cannot fail at love- you can only do it.

And if you live your life for love, there’s no way you can fail. No number, label, position, or person can ever take that from you.

Not even yourself.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart. Never rely on what you think you know. Remember the Lord in everything you do, and He will show you the right way (Proverbs 3:5-6)

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fuckyeahevanrwood · 8 years ago

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Rebel and a Basket Case

Evan Rachel Wood, known for her leading role as a heroine and oldest host in the HBO Original series Westworld, as well as her roles in films Thirteen, The Wrestler, TV series True Blood and the mini series Mildred Pearce. Her covetable award-winning catalog of acting roles barely highlights her deep rooted musical background she evolved at a very young age.

We get a squint of her prolific vocal talent as the star of the 2007 musical film ‘Across the Universe‘ as she covers 1960’s Beatles songs.

Fast forward to 2017; Evan and Zach chat with novelist Laura Albert about the inspiration for their debut album and the journey of writing songs whilst juggling an intense acting career.

Rebel and a Basket Case an edgy, 80’s inspired electro –pop duo who are reclaiming inspirational moments from their teenage music icons, The Breakfast club, Karaoke and verve for all that is a unicorn world.

Interview by Laura Albert

Laura: I very much love Westworld. Has the unfurling story which seems a constant peeling back of identity, seeped into your musical world?

Evan: Zach and I wrote a lot of the album while I was in production and while we were on a short hiatus. Playing that character definitely gave me a new found strength that trickled over into our music I’m sure. So many themes on the record have to do with overcoming oppressive situations and West World is very much the same.

Laura: Your music has an uplifting message — it understands suffering but offers support to lift others out of darkness. It brings to mind a quote from my mentor David Milch, “You know, people say that my writing is dark. And for me it’s quite the opposite. It sees light in darkness and it doesn’t try to distort darkness. The essential thing is that the seeing itself is joyful.” It seems like you share this philosophy – would be great to hear both your thoughts.

Zach: Yep. I’m all about being present in the journey. One of the greatest life lessons I’ve ever learned is that you “can learn just as much from a ‘bad’ experience, as you can a ‘good’ experience.” So either way, you are balancing the scales and moving “forward” more than anything. That is cumulative. That’s unstoppable. And growth is independent of how enjoyable a particular life challenge or experience is. So, I think we capture that in our music. There is always pain and hardship that comes along (eventually) in tandem with the greatest joy. That’s the spice of life. We all want to be happy. But those moments when we are not or challenged is when we learn the most about ourselves…and carry that knowledge forward allowing us to enjoy our happy moments all more the deeply.

Evan: A lot of the lyrics that I pulled out of my arsenal came from a time when I was suffering, heartbroken, oppressed, misunderstood, and generally teetering on madness. The fact that I made it out and feel like a better person for it taught me a lot. Especially because my work in film is usually really heavy and dramatic I felt I would drain myself if the music I made was similar. I wanted our songs and lyrics to acknowledge the struggle but also say, “Hey, you aren’t alone and it’s going to be ok. You will survive.” Making uplifting and empowering music can sometimes be more challenging. Just like it’s easier to take an insult rather than a compliment. I think especially where we are in the world right now, people know things are hard, people know things are bad, I feel like we need to be reminded that we can overcome.

Laura: You were brought together collaborating on music, can you tell us more about that, and how you both felt it was a fit worth exploring.

Zach: Originally, this tune I had written sounded pretty lame with my vocals in the lead…enter Evan. She has an amazing gift both as a vocalist, and as a writer, which I discovered later. Her talent was apparent, but when it seemed like our collaboration gave her a stage to fully explore the writer inside of her, I happy obliged. That she feels comfortable with me in that regard is an honor, and a pleasure. Her turn of word never ceases to amaze me, and opened me up musically to explore different territory. It’s incredible to work with her, see how her mind works, and see the connections she makes to music emotionally. And her explosiveness and dynamic ability as a performer is hard to rival. Which is lovely, because I have looked a long time for someone who can give me a run for my money in the performative arena. I think we push each other, and complement each other equally. That’s why it works.

Evan: Music was always my first love. I held it in such high regard and it was so precious to me I couldn’t even bring myself to put my own out in the world because I wanted it to be perfect. Linda Perry heard me sing, reached out to me and became a sort of mentor. She gave me that little push I needed and the confidence to just start, it didn’t have to be perfect. Once that door was open I started working with Zach on this play we did together and we started talking about music. We not only had great chemistry but it seemed like we had the same vision for what we wanted to achieve, not just musically but the general concept. We both loved androgyny, glam rock, and were born in the 80’s raised in the 90’s so we have a lot of the same influences stylistically. Zach was the first person I felt comfortable enough with to be vulnerable and share my writing and melodies. He was really patient and nurturing and it felt safe. Once those barriers were down it was like we couldn’t stop making music, it flowed so freely and naturally. Zach is incredible with the little details and he can hear things I just don’t. He is also the hook master!

Laura: I dig how your band name is taken from the stereotype-labels from John Hughes’ Breakfast Club — there is a power in taking on a label and owning it. When I was a kid, my mom taught be about the Chinese finger puzzle, a straw tube you put your fingers into. If you try to pull your fingers out, it tightens around your fingers. The only way out is in: when you press your finger deeper inside, then it magically opens. As public figures, so many tags or typecasting can get thrust on you. But you are both freely exploring a variety genres, but ultimately it feels like you are inviting the audience to go deeper than the label or category — and by doing so, you can follow any rule want. Do you feel free to explore any genre of music with Rebel?

Evan: I feel like we have so many influences and what I love about our first record is that it all fits together but it shows a vast range. We were exploring and finding different parts of ourselves musically as a band and I think that reflects in a cool way on this album. I also think you need to keep reinventing yourself as an artist because as people we don’t stay the same, we grow and evolve so that can’t help but be mirrored in what you create. I am hoping we are able to show many sides of who we are as artists while keeping the integrity of our vibe and mission.

Zach: With Ev on this one. As a writer, I am fairly disrespectful of any kind of genre restrictions. Of course things need to sound cohesive, and we definitely have an aesthetic as RB&C but, rules are made to be broken. And music in this era we are in is so fluid. Which mirrors what we are seeing movement wise as a culture. With structure comes freedom. No fear to explore.

Laura: Zach, it’s awesome how varied your creative outlets have been, did anyone every try to dissuade you from being so expansive in your artistic endeavors or outlets? Zach did you always know you wanted to make music?

Zach: Yes. Pretty much a LOT of people tried to dissuade me. They all had the best intentions, thinking that they were doing me a favor in their advice to streamline my energies… that I would be more focused on one thing, give move to just acting or dancing etc, and clear the field and my calendar. Unfortunately, that often backfires in modern society, and gone are the days of the Greeks, Romans, and MGM Pictures when we encouraged artists (and people) to be well-rounded ; confident that the X-training in experience would yield more interesting and varied results. So, in short I told those individuals thanks but no thanks. I wouldn’t be the musician I am today without the extensive background I have in dance, acting etc. They all feed one another.

Laura: How do you form your fashion sensibilities? They seem very playful.

Zach: I like clothes that elevate an aesthetic. That allows me to feel like I can transcend the norm and connect to something ethereal. Like lights and glitter. Evan?

Evan: I always view my alter ego ‘Basket case’ as just a heightened version of myself. Like when you go to burning man and you are allowed to create whatever character you want that would normally raise a few eyebrows on the streets. Thats why music and rock n roll have always been so alluring to me, it represented full expression and freedom. We also want it to reflect our message which is ‘be loud and proud and who you are and have fun doing it!

Laura: What are your tour plans? Your music has a cinematic edge to it, would you be interested in creating soundtracks for films together?

Zach: We are playing regionally as much as possible and focusing on our unicorns on the West Coast. We are playing a Pride fest in Chicago and Oslo in June. Soundtracks for films? Absolutely….. lock me in a room with synth pads and a picture with lots of coffee any day.

Evan: I am actually directing my first film this spring so you might hear a couple of new tunes from R&BC in there.

Laura: Evan, when I became a parent, a fierce new kind of advocacy blossomed in me – I needed to protect and advocate for this child, and I would do what ever that required. With the art I created right after my son was born, I felt a not-dissimilar form of advocacy that was new in me. Not just for my art, but the idea of this child going through any of what I had experienced — sexual and physical abuse — chilled me to my core. I knew I could not shield him from suffering, but I felt that, by giving a voice to what had happened, by telling and raising awareness, I could perhaps make the world safer for him. Did you experience anything like that?

Evan: Absolutely. I feel like it is my duty as a person and as a mother to be honest about my journey to help people on theirs. I hope I can set a good example for my son in that way. There is no shame.

Laura: Film acting reminds me of writing, in that there is no direct contact with the audience at the moment of creation. What I loved about making music was feeling locked in with an outside energy and not being alone, feeling that there could be a transmigration of spirit. When you sing, there is a sense that you are going to the depth of your being to bring connected emotion into being. Do you feel that music allows for more of felt or immediate shared sense of experience than your acting does?

Evan: Yes, it’s like doing theatre you get an immediate response from the audience. No matter how many times you rehearse, the second you are confronted by your audience everything changes, you feed off of their energy and go to another place. You lift each other up and the connection is palpable and immediate. Seeing people dance and sing to something that came from your soul which in many ways is your soul, there are no words to describe it. Feeling like you are raising people’s spirits and turning something painful into something joyous is why I do it.

Laura: From your tweets to your interviews, it seems you are inviting others to move out of where they might be stuck, to come alive in their compassion, to move past an illusion of isolation of self. Do you think of directing and writing as other tools for you to take problems of our soul and spirit and transform them into issues of craft, so that others might care about what they did not care about before?

Evan: All the art I make is to release my feelings and express myself in ways I can’t otherwise. It’s why I call myself an artist because it’s just something I have to do in some way or another to survive. It’s like air to me. I don’t know what I would without it. If by doing that and being honest wakes people up and makes them view themselves and the world in a way they hadn’t before, if breaks down walls and opens up doors then I have done my job well.

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