#those lessons damn well better include him cheering her on when she finally lands a hit on him
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Tired: Colin teaches Penelope how to fuck Wired: Colin teaches Penelope how to flirt Inspired: Colin teaches Penelope how to fIGHT
#bridgerton#polin#colin bridgerton#penelope featherington#bridgerton season 3#look at me#LOOK AT ME: if we don't get boxer Colin in S3 i will riot#i will write so many posts and fanfics about it y'all will be beyond sick of me#(more than you already are i mean)#i need to see flashbacks of a teensy colin gleefully teaching daphne and eloise everything he learned from B + A#i need to see Colin telling Penelope that if a man is making her uncomfortable she should aim for his throat *(thank you red)#and then realizing she's too short#so she should punch them in the gut instead#those lessons damn well better include him cheering her on when she finally lands a hit on him#GIVE IT TO ME BTON!!!!#someone fucking hire me to write this season#i have IDEAS#also Colin has like. . .0 game#come on let's be real#i LOVE it about him#so so much#but the 'colin teaches penelope seduction' is the blind leading the blind#pen: i don't know how to find a husband#colin: i don't know to find a husband either
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Dedicated Followers of Fashion - A Cobra Kai Lawrusso Fanfic - Chapter 3
“Do you still have yours?” Daniel asked.
Johnny blinked in confusion. “My what?”
Daniel inclined his head towards the tournament gi on the wall.
In which Daniel is not on fire, Johnny performs a heist and they finally attempt to deal with their feelings for each other with the help of two iconic outfits…
Trigger warning: some references to outdated and ill-informed views on homosexuality and bisexuality.
1981
“Mr Lawrence. Stay behind for a moment, will you?”
Kreese’s voice cut through the air, and although it was framed as a question Johnny knew that it was a command rather than a request.
“I’ll see you later”, Johnny murmured to Bobby, and hung back while the rest of the class shuffled out.
When they were alone Kreese surveyed him for a moment, his cool gaze sweeping Johnny from head to toe, and Johnny forced himself to stay standing straight up, head high, shoulders held back rather than turning tail. He knew that gaze, not just from Kreese but from Sid as well, knew that it almost always preceded a sneer followed by a torrent of insults carefully constructed to inflict the most pain possible.
But no insults were forthcoming; instead Kreese just nodded, once, and walked past Johnny into his office. He emerged a few seconds later, a pile of black cloth held in his arms, and crossed back over to Johnny, holding out the bundle.
“For you, Mr Lawrence”, Kreese said smoothly, and Johnny’s jaw fell open when he realised what it was.
“A tournament gi?” he whispered, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice just in case he was mistaken. “For me, Sensei?”
Kreese smiled indulgently and inclined his head down, indicating for Johnny to take the uniform.
Johnny picked it up, sucking in a deep breath as he did so. He’d just been a spectator at the All Valley tournament for the last two years, sitting in the front row and cheering his fellow Cobras on, hoping against hope that one day it would be him up there, leading Cobra Kai to victory. He ran his fingers over the patch on the front of the top, scarcely believing that he was seeing his own name (his own name!) printed above the motif of a fist.
“Do you really think I’m ready, Sensei?” he asked quietly, and Kreese’s smile widened as he laid a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, squeezing it softly.
“Yes son”, said Kreese. “It’s time for you to get out there and show everyone what a true champion is made of. I have a feeling that gi is only the first of many.”
Johnny felt his chest swell with happiness as a grin spread over his face.
“I won’t let you down, Sensei”, he promised fervently. “I swear it. I’ll never, ever let you down.”
December 20th, 1984
“Johnny? Johnny, are you OK sweetie?”
Johnny burrowed deeper under the bed covers, ignoring his mom. His throat was throbbing painfully and he desperately needed to pee, but he didn’t want to move from his dark cocoon. After a minute his mom stopped calling his name, and he thought she’d gone away when he heard his bedroom door open softly and feet pad across to him. He felt the bed dip as she sat down before her hand landed on his back, rubbing soft circles into it through the covers.
“Hey”, she said soothingly. “It’s OK, Johnny. I know you did your best.”
“How?” croaked Johnny, voice muffled by the blankets. “How do you know what I did when you weren’t even there?”
His mom’s hand stopped moving. “I’m so sorry I missed it sweetie, but Sid had a work dinner and I had to go-”
“You always choose him over me”, Johnny said hoarsely, shifting across the bed out of his mom’s reach.
“You know that’s not true, Johnny”, Laura said quietly.
Johnny didn’t reply, and a few seconds later he felt his mom stand up and start to walk away. He heard her footsteps pause, and then a rustling sound; the crinkle of cloth.
“Where do you want me to put this, Johnny?” she asked, and Johnny didn’t need to look to know that she was holding the gi that he’d torn off and discarded on the floor when he’d got home.
“I don’t care”, he said, curling up further under the blanket.
Laura sighed. “OK, well I’m going to keep it if that’s alright with you. I’ll put it with the others.”
Johnny was silent, and after a minute he heard his mom leave, the door closing behind her. He held his breath for a moment, making sure she wasn’t about to come back, before he let himself cry, the tears running down tracks still present on his cheeks from the night before. He didn’t care what his mom did with the gi; he never wanted to see it again.
2019
They won the tournament, Miguel delivering the winning kick against Robby in a nail-biting final, and while the kids celebrated Johnny and Daniel had hotfooted it out of the All Valley Sports Arena, desperately searching for Robby and Kreese. They eventually found them around the back of the building, Kreese having apparently learned his lesson from last time and avoiding the crowded parking lot. He had Robby in a headlock, second place trophy in pieces on the ground, and for a sickening moment Johnny felt as if time had rewound thirty-five years and it was all happening again.
They had acted as one, Johnny sweeping Kreese’s leg while Daniel delivered the kick to his face, and while Daniel had pulled a shaken and spluttering Robby out of the way Johnny had stood over his old Sensei, mouth set in a hard line.
“Now get the hell out of here and never come back”, he had growled. Before Kreese had a chance to respond Johnny had turned away, attending to Robby.
After an exhausting few weeks of sorting out the mess Kreese had left behind (“A lot of those kids he was brainwashing are going to need many years of therapy”, Daniel had said) and making sure Robby was OK (he had let Johnny and Daniel take him to hospital after the tournament, but had barely talked to either of them since, opting instead to move back in with Shannon who was fresh out of rehab), Johnny and Daniel had decided to keep their new dojo open, with them both teaching evening classes while Johnny managed most of the day sessions solo when Daniel was at the dealership. (“Just try to be nice, OK Johnny? No inappropriate nicknames.” “Define inappropriate.” “Anything you would’ve used in the 80’s.” Daniel answered drily. “Then what the hell am I supposed to call them?” Johnny protested. “Their names, Johnny.”)
They had also managed to avoid being alone together for any length of time; Miguel, Sam and Hawk had begun to join them for lesson planning and nights out always included Amanda and Carmen. Johnny was starting to think that Daniel had either forgotten or decided to abandon their plan to talk about The Thing between them (Johnny had started to refer to it as The Thing in his mind, even though that also made him think of the Kurt Russell film, which was confusing at times. But he didn’t know what else to call it; what was the appropriate terminology for the overwhelming urge to kiss the face off your childhood karate rival turned reluctant co-sensei?), when he’d received a Facebook message from Daniel one night after practice.
Dinner. My place. Saturday night, 7.30pm. Amanda out and the kids at sleepovers. And get a damn cell phone, Johnny. I’m sick of having to wait for you to turn on your laptop before you pick up my messages. (Johnny had rolled his eyes and responded with the middle finger emoji, followed shortly after by yeah, whatever, see you then.)
On Saturday night Johnny tried on the entire contents of his wardrobe, searching for just the right outfit in which to discuss what to do about The Thing. After several hours his bedroom looked like an explosion in a thrift store and he finally settled on his dark suit and yellow shirt combo, telling himself as he adjusted his tie and slicked his hair back that he was going to Daniel’s to deal with the business of The Thing between them, so what better outfit than a business suit? They would drink (there was no way Johnny was doing it sober), they would talk, they would eat, they would try and come up with a solution to their feelings which didn’t end with Johnny just pushing Daniel up against a wall and ramming his tongue down the other man’s throat.
The outfit selection had taken so long that it was well after 7.30pm by the time Johnny headed out of his apartment and drove round to the LaRusso house, but even after he arrived he still stayed in the car for a while, hands clutching the steering wheel as the Valley darkened around him.
Eventually he took a deep breath and got out, grabbing a bag from the passenger seat and locking the door before squaring his shoulders, walking purposefully up to the front door and ringing the bell. He shifted nervously from foot to foot, and when Daniel didn’t come to the door after a minute he pressed the bell again, keeping his finger held down on it for a good ten seconds before letting go. After there was still no response, Johnny started to feel a little uneasy. What if something’s happened to him? Johnny had a sudden vision of Daniel trying to cook some overly complicated recipe that involved a blow torch like Johnny had seen on the Food Network and setting fire to himself. Or maybe he’d tripped over those ridiculously long legs of his and fallen down the stairs and was lying in a crumpled, broken heap at the bottom. Or what if Kreese had returned despite his promise to stay away and had finally gotten his revenge? Johnny’s heart started to race as he thought about what it would be like to live in world without Daniel LaRusso. He felt bile rise in his throat and he swallowed it down as he found his feet carrying him swiftly around to the rear of the house. He was making for the back door (rapidly formulating a break-in plan in his mind, which largely consisted of just kicking the door until it opened) when he saw that there was a light on in Daniel’s home dojo; he hurried in, shoes squeaking on the floor, half expecting to see Daniel’s lifeless body spread out in front of him.
“Johnny?” asked a familiar Jersey-accented voice, and Johnny turned to see Daniel sitting on a bench pushed up against a Japanese style screen, a wine glass raised halfway to his lips. “Are you OK?”
Johnny breathed a huge sigh of relief, and then felt like an idiot. His cheeks reddened. “What? Er, yeah, I’m fine. I just thought you might be on fire or something but you’re not, so we’re all good.”
Daniel frowned. “Johnny, why the hell would I be on fire - ” he started, before he cut himself off and shook his head. “You know what? I don’t want to know. He shuffled along the bench, making room for Johnny, and gestured to a bottle of wine. “You want a drink?”
“I’m good”, said Johnny, holding up his bag as he sat down and pulling out a crate of Coors Banquet.
Daniel rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything, instead reaching out for the bottle of wine and topping up his glass. Johnny stared at him; he was dressed in corduroy pants and a fleecy blue sweatshirt, hair product-free and sticking up in fluffy tufts as if he’d been running his hands through it. Johnny tore his eyes away, feeling a little hot. He shrugged off his suit jacket and undid his top button, pulling at his collar. He took a bottle of Coors of out its cardboard container and twisted the cap off, taking a big gulp of beer.
“You missed dinner”, Daniel said.
“What was it?”
“Pesto and arugula linguine.”
Johnny pulled a face. “Sounds green.”
Daniel huffed, although Johnny thought he saw a hint of a smile on his lips.
“I didn’t think you were going to come.”
“Yeah, well. I did”, Johnny said. He was just close enough to Daniel that he could smell the smaller man’s aftershave (clean and fresh with just the slightest hint of musk). He took another swig of beer.
“Yeah”, said Daniel, leaning in ever so slightly. “For some reason you’re dressed like a detective from the 1970’s and you were over an hour late, but yeah, you came.”
Johnny reached out and shoved Daniel’s shoulder playfully, but rather than pulling back he left his hand there, fingers gently stroking Daniel’s arm through the soft fabric. Daniel bit his lip and Johnny realised he was about five seconds away from giving into temptation and kissing Daniel until his own lips were too sore to form coherent sentences. He let his arm drop and glanced away, shifting on the bench to put a little more space between them, looking around the room for a distraction. His eyes settled on the framed gi hanging on the wall.
“Of course you framed it. Bet you look at it every day and get a little thrill thinking about how you beat me.”
“Actually the reason I framed it was because Mr Miyagi gave it to me for my birthday”, Daniel replied. “The bonsai was embroidered by his wife before she died.”
“Oh”, Johnny said awkwardly, but then Daniel’s mouth quirked up in a smirk.
“But yeah, it does also remind me of kicking you in the face.”
Johnny picked up his discarded bottle cap and threw it at the smaller man. It landed softly in Daniel’s hair and he scowled, plucking it out and throwing it back at Johnny who caught it easily.
“Asshole.”
“Twerp.”
They drank in silence for a minute before Johnny finally asked the question that had been bugging him for weeks.
“Why is blue my fault?”
Daniel didn’t even acknowledge that he’d heard Johnny, instead fiddling with a loose thread on the sleeve of his fleece. He drained his glass and then picked up the bottle to re-fill, and Johnny was about to repeat the question when Daniel finally spoke.
“I- I liked you in high school.”
Johnny snorted in derision. “I think we both know that’s not true.”
Daniel sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “No, I mean I liked you in high school, Johnny.”
It took Johnny a moment to realise when Daniel meant; when he did, he blinked in surprise. “Oh. Shit.”
Daniel swirled the wine around in his glass. “Yeah. After the tournament I started having these dreams about you, and when I saw you at school…”. He paused, taking a sip of wine and staring down at the floor. “There wasn’t any information about it in those days, you know? About men who liked men or men who liked both men and women. Not useful information, anyway. The news just said it made you sick, and my neighbour Freddy told me he’d once seen an Al Pacino movie about it and that it meant you had to wear a lot of leather and might be murdered.” He took a big gulp of wine and stared down at his feet, not meeting Johnny’s eye, and when he spoke again his voice was somehow both soft and brittle.
“So I just tried to ignore it and hoped that it would go away, but of course it didn’t. So the next time I needed new clothes I just bought everything in blue, because – I don’t know, it just seemed like a safe colour. Like people were less likely to know…” He trailed off, shaking his head.
“Oh”, Johnny said again. (He felt that he should probably have said something else, but had no clue what that would be.) “And then what?”
Daniel shrugged. “And then, eventually, there was more information and I learned that it was OK to like both men and women, but by that time I was already with Amanda and I didn’t want anyone else.” He went to take another sip of his wine but then seemed to change his mind, placing the glass down on the bench and running a hand through his hair.
Johnny realised his mouth was hanging open and quickly closed it.
“And what about you, Johnny?”
“What about me, LaRusso?”
“Did – did you like me too? Back then?”
Johnny had a sudden, vivid memory of the day they first met, of looking down at Daniel playing with Ali on the beach and feeling an odd swooping sensation in his stomach at the sight of long legs and slim hips that he hadn’t fully understood and had masked with anger.
“Maybe”. He went to take a pull on his Banquet, but the bottle was empty. He cracked open another and took a long swig from it.
“We would be terrible together”, Daniel said bluntly. “We’d argue over everything and we’d probably try and kill each other within a week.”
“Yeah”, Johnny agreed. “It’d be a fucking nightmare.”
“And yet –”, said Daniel, gesturing at the space between them, at the thirty-five year old heart-shaped elephant in the room. “-there’s this”.
“Yeah. The Thing. Our thing, I mean, nothing to do with Kurt Russell.” Johnny looked down at his feet. “I don’t know what to do about it, LaRusso.”
“No”, Daniel said miserably. “I don’t either.”
They looked at each other, and Johnny was suddenly overcome with the urge to just get up and run out of there at full pelt (he could be in his car and on his way home in under a minute if he moved fast). He hadn’t expected it to go this way; he thought that Daniel would have some carefully constructed five-point plan for how to deal with their feelings, or that he’d get some sudden flash of inspiration (damn business suit had been no help at all). Instead he breathed deeply in and out and shifted just a little closer to Daniel, holding out a hand. Daniel hesitated for a fraction of a second before he took it in his.
“Do you still have yours?” Daniel asked after a while.
Johnny blinked in confusion. “My what?”
Daniel inclined his head towards the tournament gi on the wall.
“Oh. No. But it might still be at Sid’s with some of my mom’s old stuff.”
Daniel nodded slowly. “You think you could go round there and see if you can find it?”
“Maybe”, said Johnny, frowning. “Why?”
**********************************************************************************
Johnny loitered outside the house, watching as Sid clambered into his car with the help of Rhonda. The chauffeur got in and started the engine and Johnny ducked behind a bush as the car swooped down the driveway. When it was safely out of sight he walked briskly up to the front door and rang the bell (he knew better than to try and sneak round the back; Sid’s home security systems had always been state of the art and he’d tripped the alarm more than once as a teenager, creeping back home after an all-night rager).
When the butler answered the door Johnny walked straight past him, talking fast.
“Hey, is my step-dad home? It’s just that I think I left something here last time I visited and I wanted to see if he’d found it.”
The butler hurried behind Johnny as he walked into Sid’s study. “Mr Weinberg is out at the moment, Mr Lawrence, but perhaps if you come back another day after you’ve made an appointment-”
“Ah, it’s OK, I think I know where I left it”, said Johnny. “I’ll go grab it and be out of your hair in just a sec.” He looked at the butler again. “Well, actually, you don’t have any hair, but you know what I mean.”
“Mr Lawrence, I must protest-” began the butler, but Johnny stepped around him and back out into the hall before turning left and taking the stairs two at a time. He ran along the corridor to his old bedroom (now a storage room) and began to search for the boxes with his mom’s name on them. He could already hear the butler talking to someone on the phone and he reckoned he had about three minutes before the burly security guards that Sid kept on site found him, and a further two minutes before Sid arrived back home (Johnny knew that he would order his chauffeur to turn right back around as soon as the butler told him what was going on; his step-father would never miss an opportunity to kick Johnny out of his house).
After a minute of searching Johnny found the boxes marked ‘Laura’ and tore them open, pulling out high heels and floral dresses, some of which still smelt faintly of his mom’s perfume. His stomach clenched at the scent, memories flooding back; he shook his head, forcing himself to focus. He opened another box, and then another, and was just starting to think they weren’t there, that Sid must have thrown them out, when he found them folded up neatly at the bottom of the last box. Four black gi’s with yellow trim. He pulled them all out and held them up one by one to determine which was the biggest, which was the one from 1984. When he’d identified it he quickly stuffed the pants, top and a belt into the backpack slung over his shoulder and sprinted back down the corridor and the stairs. As he barrelled out of the door he heard heavy footsteps behind him and several deep voices shouting at him to stop, but he kept running, breath hitching in his chest.
Sid’s car pulled back into the driveway as Johnny ran out of it, and as Johnny raced down the road, the security guards puffing along behind him for a few paces before giving up, he heard Sid shout.
“And don’t you ever come back here, you good-for-nothing schmuck!”
Don’t worry, Johnny thought, slowing his pace a little as he turned a corner out of sight. I won’t.
**********************************************************************************
“Good work today everyone!”, said Sam, clapping her hands together, and Johnny smirked as Daniel raised an eyebrow at his daughter as their students began to talk amongst themselves.
“You know that’s my line, right?” Daniel asked.
Sam grinned. “You snooze you lose, Dad. Maybe it’s time for you to start thinking about stepping back a bit, let the new guard take the lead.”
Daniel rolled his eyes. “Hey, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. Plenty of life left in this not-so-old dog yet.”
“So what’s the plan for tonight, Sensei and Mr LaRusso?” piped up Miguel, taking a slug of water from his bottle and wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “More lesson planning?”
Johnny and Daniel exchanged a glance.
“Ah, no, not tonight kid”, said Johnny. “Me and LaRusso have got some stuff we need to work on. Just – er – just us two.”
The teenagers frowned.
“What is it?” asked Hawk. “Some kind of secret new move?”
“Paperwork”, Daniel replied quickly. “Although if you really want to stay and help out-”
Sam, Miguel and Hawk all made noises of protest, muttering vaguely about needing to get home. Sam gave Daniel a quick hug while Miguel and Hawk chorused “See you later, Sensei” at Johnny before all three of them joined the other students as they trooped out of the yard.
Robby smiled tightly at them as he passed. He’d shown up a few days prior and stood at the back of the class, joining in with kata but abstaining from sparring. He hadn’t talked to Johnny or Daniel yet, but it was a start.
Then it was just the two of them. Johnny stared down at his feet, scuffing his shoes against the grass, before raising his eyes to look at Daniel.
Daniel’s tongue darted out to lick his lips nervously. “You hungry?” he asked.
Johnny took in Daniel’s appearance, skin flushed and hair mussed from training. Not for food.
“Ah, no, I’m good. But if you wanna go get something for yourself-”
“No”, said Daniel. “I just – I just want to get on with this. Did you bring it?”
Johnny nodded, and together they walked inside. Daniel gestured around the dojo. “I’ll get changed in here. You take the office.”
“Alright”, agreed Johnny, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice. He walked into the next room and snagged a bottle of Banquet from the refrigerator before opening up his gym bag. He pulled out the black uniform, freshly washed and neatly folded.
“It’s important it looked how it did then”, Daniel had said. “Don’t show up with it all smelly and crumpled.”
The plan had appeared to make something resembling sense when they were drunk. Johnny, remembering Ali’s words (“Sometimes it’s good to visit the past to know where you are now”) had agreed to it, but sober (or at least as sober as Johnny ever was) the idea seemed more than a little bat-shit crazy. But if it had even the slightest chance of helping them process their feelings for one another he was willing to give it a shot. Besides, Johnny had always felt most clear headed in the midst of a fight; adrenaline singing through his veins, blood pumping, everything appearing just that little bit sharper and brighter.
He pulled off his workout clothes and sneakers and held up the black gi pants, wondering if he was even going to be able to get them past his thighs. He pulled them on very slowly, just about managing to get them all the way up without busting a seam, and then leaned down at an awkward angle to grab the rest of his uniform. He put on the top (was it really a good idea to be showing so much chest around someone who was madly in lust with him? Probably not), tied the belt and walked stiffly into the dojo.
Daniel was standing on the opposite side of the room, fiddling with his sleeves.
“You haven’t even changed yet!” Johnny protested, gesturing towards him.
“What? I have!”, Daniel replied, pointing towards an identical heap of white cloth on the floor.
Johnny shook his head. “Of course it still fits you.” He walked towards Daniel, trying not to bend his knees too much. Daniel just stared at him.
“Jesus, Johnny. How did you even get that on?”
Johnny shrugged, still moving robot-like across the room until he was in front of Daniel. Close up Johnny could see that Daniel’s gi was not quite identical to the one he’d worn in class; it was slightly more worn, frayed around the edges, and it was also quite snug. His hand crept out and he touched Daniel’s chest (fully covered unlike Johnny’s, no exposed nipples in sight), and let his fingers glide down the fabric, coming to rest low on Daniel’s stomach, skimming the softness there.
Daniel shifted, but didn’t pull away. “Why do you always touch me there?”, he asked.
Johnny felt a smile pulling at his lips. “Only place you’re not perfect, LaRusso.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m perfect?”
“Well you’ve spent enough money tying to still look like you did in high school”, replied Johnny, gesturing with his free hand to Daniel’s carefully dyed hair and moisturiser-softened skin.
Daniel scowled, but then his eyes drifted down to Johnny’s hand, still resting on his stomach. “So it’s my imperfections that you like, Johnny?”
“Maybe”, Johnny said. He thought back to the night of the pink shirt, of the brief glimpse of Daniel’s bare torso. He would only have to move his fingers a little to the left to reach Daniel’s gi belt; one tug and the top would fall open, exposing Daniel’s body, just like opening a present on Christmas Day. Instead he stepped back, arms dropping to his sides.
Daniel cleared his throat. “You remember your moves, Johnny?”
Johnny shrugged. “Yeah, I think so”. (Of course he remembered them; that fight was part of him and always would be, whether he wanted it to be or not.)
“Just go easy on my knee this time, yeah?” asked Daniel.
“Ditto, but for my face”, countered Johnny.
They got into position and Johnny bowed, deep and deliberate, locking eyes with Daniel as the smaller man mirrored him. Then they straightened up, getting into fighting stances, and began.
Johnny lunged forward with a jump kick and heard a tearing sound as the too-tight material of his gi pants gave way. “Oh shit”, he muttered.
Daniel sidestepped Johnny’s leg, avoiding contact, “You alright there?” he asked, inclining his head towards Johnny’s crotch.
“I’m fine”, Johnny replied, feeling his cheeks redden. He dived straight back into the fight with a flurry of kicks and Daniel landed a blow to the chest (“one point LaRusso”), his knuckles skimming over bare flesh. Daniel went in for a punch and Johnny pushed him to the ground, hand lingering for a second on Daniel’s chest before Daniel flipped himself up (not quite as gracefully as the last time, Johnny noted a little smugly) and they circled each other, panting heavily, before Johnny kicked out and Daniel went low, pulling Johnny down with him and tapping him on the back (“That’s two for LaRusso”), and they both lay there for a moment, legs tangled together (those legs, what Johnny wouldn’t do to stay wrapped in them), before they clambered up, parting reluctantly, getting ready to face off again.
“You need a time out, Johnny?” Daniel asked lightly, but there was an edge to his voice and his body was braced, ready for attack.
“I’m good. Didn’t bust my nose this time, LaRusso.”
Daniel nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet, and suddenly it was as if it was 1984 again and they were in the All Valley Sports Arena, the crowd roaring around them and Kreese standing to the side, arms crossed, confident that Johnny would obey him no matter what.
“Sweep the leg.”
“You have a problem with that?”
“No Sensei.”
“No mercy.”
Johnny’s leg went up, his body moving by itself as though he had no control over it, like a puppet on a string. Daniel tensed, waiting for the inevitable blow to his own leg, and Johnny wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised when it never came. Instead the kick struck Daniel’s chest, a fair kick, not targeting a known weakness, and the smaller man fell back onto his ass, blinking in surprise. They stared at each other for a moment, panting heavily, and then Daniel’s face split into a grin before he got up again, and Johnny felt his own lips pull into a smile as they continued.
Johnny fought the rest of the fight with his own moves, every kick and punch shredding the material of his gi a little bit more, and he found that he felt lighter with every ripped seam as if shedding a too tight skin that he hadn’t realised he was still wearing.
“I won’t let you down, Sensei, I swear it. I’ll never, ever let you down.”
“You’re nothing, you lost, you’re a loser”.
“I did warn you about this. I told you not to show weakness.”
“I will never let my students lose. Even if they have to learn the hard way. One day you’ll thank me for this, Johnny.”
Rip
Tear
Pull
Break
Johnny kept his eyes trained on Daniel as they sparred, on the man who Johnny had blamed for so many things that were never his fault, weren’t Johnny’s fault either, but instead were entirely the fault of someone who had seen Johnny as an impressionable young kid and decided to warp him into a solider.
Johnny didn’t grab Daniel’s leg, didn’t ram his elbow into the back of his knee. Instead they danced around each other, Johnny’s cheeks aching from the smile that seemed to have taken up permanent residence on his face, and then Daniel raised two arms and a leg, preparing for the crane kick. There was a moment of stillness and Johnny stared at the person in front of him; this tiny, forceful creature who had crashed back into his life after thirty odd years, and he felt that same swooping sensation in his stomach that he had that night at the beach. Then Daniel’s leg flew out, or at least it almost did; Daniel’s gi pants pulled tight around thighs that were just a little thicker than when he was a teenager, and as the material restricted his movements Daniel’s eyes went wide and he fell over backwards, landing on his ass.
Johnny felt something rise up his throat and into his mouth (for a second he thought he was going to barf all over Daniel’s precious gi, which would have kept him amused for weeks after even if he did have to pay the dry cleaning bill), but instead what came out was a snigger followed by a chuckle, and before he knew it Johnny’s body was wracked with laughter and he dropped to his knees next to Daniel, chest heaving. For a moment Daniel stared at him as if he was mad, but then Daniel’s own shoulders started to shake and soon they were both laughing uncontrollably. Johnny felt that lightness again, both wonderful and dizzying (“the unbearable lightness of being Johnny Lawrence”, Daniel said, years later, when Johnny tried to recall the feeling. Johnny just rolled his eyes and threw his bottle cap at Daniel, grinning when it landed in the other man’s greying hair).
When they finally stopped, guffaws subsiding into giggles that eventually petered out into silence, Johnny felt limp but happy, as if all the tension had been drained from his body. He looked at Daniel sat on the floor before him, sweaty and out of breath but with his white gi still pristine and perfectly intact while Johnny’s black one hung off him in tatters (and if that wasn’t a perfect representation of their relationship then Johnny didn’t know what was). He shuffled forward and raised a hand to Daniel’s face, thumb rubbing against a soft cheek where just the slightest hint of stubble had appeared.
“Johnny”, Daniel murmured, leaning into the touch.
“Daniel”, whispered Johnny, the name unfamiliar on his lips, and they locked eyes before closing the distance between them and pressing their mouths together.
Johnny had never really understood the act of kissing as something in and of itself before; for him it had always been a means to an end, and that end was usually sex or at least a good grope (Dutch had taught him that; always try to put a hand on a girl’s boob while making out), and he had imagined it would be like that with Daniel; a desperate, frantic mashing together of lips and teeth as they ripped each other’s clothes off. But although Johnny could feel lust coiling in his belly the kiss was nothing like that at all; it was slow and sweet, Daniel’s soft lips moving gently against his, his mouth warm and inviting. It was somehow both too much and not enough, and Johnny didn’t know if it was the first kiss or the last, the beginning of something or the end.
Eventually they broke for air but stayed close, breath mingling, foreheads pressed together.
“It’s getting late”, Johnny said, pulling back and nodding towards the slight gap in the screen doors where a sliver of inky black sky was visible. He gestured between them. “We should – ah – we should probably get changed”.
“Yeah”, Daniel replied, glancing at Johnny’s ruined gi. “We should.”
But neither of them moved, and Johnny found himself wondering what would happen if they just stayed there forever, curled around each other in that little house (he could get Bobby to send food parcels). But his legs had started to cramp and so he got up reluctantly, holding out a hand to help Daniel to his feet. They smiled at each other for a moment longer before they both nodded in silent agreement and turned away. Johnny started to walk into the office to gather his clothes, but only took a few steps before he turned, drinking in the sight of Daniel’s bare back as he carefully removed and folded up his gi top, muscles shifting. Johnny tore his eyes away and forced himself into the next room, firmly closing the screen door between them. Maybe there would be time in the years to come for him to explore Daniel’s body, maybe not, but whatever happened at least the past was finally behind them while the future stretched out in front, unwritten, a blank page ready to be filled with whatever story they chose for themselves.
#cobra kai#cobrakaifanfic#cobrakaifanfiction#cobra kai fanfic#cobra kai fanfiction#Daniel LaRusso#Johnny Lawrence#lawrusso
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Close enough to 10 mintues of “Ms Axel is a Goon”
Screw it. I'm posting it here, too. *NOTE: This is 100% fictitious and not going to happen*
Final Assignment Script Writing, Winter School 2021 ONE-PAGE PITCH
TITLE: Ms Axel is a Goon
GENRE: Action, comedy, sci-fi, family
LOGLINE: In the humid city of Dasmus, Mei Axel is a former goon who's just escaped captivity. Since her escape, she's been trying to better her life with her new found passion for music, but she quickly learns that the entire country wants to trade her name and face for a price.
FORMAT: Full-length animated film
MAJOR AND RECURRING CHARACTERS: Mei Axel – A wanted fugitive. Mid 20s. Despite her physical competence, she's mostly a foolish, plucky girl who steals a guitar one day.
Alicia Vonarb – CEO of a liquor company. Late 30s. The last boss to hire Axel to do her sneaky business work. Confident and vain, but does everything in spite of her mother. Wants to capture Axel because she doesn't want to get ratted out.
Kannie Orma – An old gadgeteer friend of Axel’s. Mid 50s. Also a “lame uncle” sort of figure to Axel. Their friendship must remain secret because his work is also involved with Vonarb.
O. Miho - Axel’s former coworker from when she was working for Vonarb. Early 30s. His current assignment is to capture Axel. Smug and thinks he's funny.
K. Claymont – Axel’s other former coworker. Late 20s. Works together with Miho. A kind man, but only most of the time.
SYNOPSIS: Mei Axel. She's a goon that's been caught and jailed. Eventually enough, she makes a successful escape and ventures outside. Not much happens afterwards other than stealing a guitar, and once discovering that she's got a passion for music, now she aims to live up that dream. But while attempting to live her new life, her face still reads as an incompetent menace to her former friends and foes, as well as to the majority of the country – they all seem to want to trade in her face for a cash reward. Now, aside from escaping the hands of everyone that wants to hand her over to the government, it is now up to Ms Axel to figure out how she is going to be able to pursue her new life goal that heavily conflicts with her current place among her people. This first follows the story of a wanted fugitive who sets off on a quest for redemption which, unfortunately, never works out. The story ends when Axel eventually escapes the country. She finally acknowledges that she can never truly change the way she's perceived, as well as never fully experience the life that she wants. However, she still performs under a low profile, happily living a drifter's lifestyle.
RATIONALE: This is a story about someone whose wrongdoings and nurture had shaped the way that others view them. Our protagonist is Mei Axel who had been built up to become a significantly infamous member of society, but once discovering a part of herself that showed her potential in a more respected position, being a musician, she starts wanting to better herself. A problem with this scenario is that her past actions prevent her from fully achieving that dream. She can relate to audiences who want to change aspects of their past, particularly their mistakes or the wrong ways they've been brought up, but can't.
MARKET: Children ranging from 11-16, particularly those that are interested in scenes that involve action-packed chases and fighting between individuals. The [film] will present itself through retro-futuristic aesthetics in its city setting. Rock is also a prevalent music genre for the soundtrack, which may interest audiences who particularly like the genre.
The Script
EXT. BUILDINGTOP – NIGHT
Axel checks out the guitar from every angle with a grin, having a feel of its neck, strings and body. She sits it on her lap as if to play it.
AXEL
Oh... I hope those lessons never went to waste...
She wobbly plays a C major scale while slightly wincing through every second. She runs over the same scale again, but this time it flows a bit more smoothly. She smiles a little.
MONTAGE OF AXEL PRACTISING GUITAR
- Axel goes over the same scale a couple of times and with every run, her playing gets smoother.
- She then moves on to a different key and practises that scale
- She then moves on to another key and practises that scale
- She plays some chords now, beginning with the I IV V I progression
MONTAGE END
Axel continues strumming. A light turns on from a nearby building.
DWELLER
Who is playing that garbage?!
Axel stops strumming. Silence.
AXEL
(Breathes in)
I'll get the hang of it.
She slings the guitar over her back and runs into the shadows. Eventually, she disappears into the dark.
EXT. MARKETPLACE – DAY
A view of a cranny on a roof between two walls. Axel sleeps there resting her guitar on her lap. Waking up, she yawns and then lazily sits up.
CUT TO:
A view of the market grounds. Axel smugly and excitedly, yet discreetly scurries out of an alley between a bakery and a liquor store, with a paper doughnut bag in one hand and a small bottle of liquor in the other.
She sits by a cafe playing some instrumental reggae rock music through a speaker. Axel hums along to the melody of the soundtrack while tipsily bouncing her finger to the beat. She then quickly strums a few chords for a brief moment, all which clash with the song's key signature, until right on the chorus, where she strums a chord that matches the root note of the song.
AXEL
Ooh, it's a G song. God, why do they always gotta be G songs? (Giggles)
She strums along with the music, landing every chord. Her smile grows and she gradually plays more confidently. She whistles the melody, then proceeds to hum. A TEENAGE BOY chucks a coin in front of her. Axel looks up and grins. She finger guns at him as he skids away to his friends, laughing. Axel stands up and plays more purposefully. The background starts dimming down.
DAYDREAM
Soon the marketplace around her blends into a stage. An abstractly drawn audience watches her perform and cheer her on. The chorus section of the song finishes.
AXEL
(Laughs)
I'm going to be known! I'll make myself the talk of the town! Everybody's gonna love me!
Axel starts strumming along to the background music again. Suddenly, a MAN with a large, muscular build grabs onto her shoulder.
END DAYDREAM
The stage fades back into the marketplace. Axel is still strumming.
MAN
You got that last part wrong.
AXEL
And who are you?
The man bats Axel with a club.
OVER BLACK.
SFX: Walking footsteps.
EXT. DESOLATE CITY AREA – DAY
In an alleyway, the man carries a bag containing Axel's body, also with Axel's guitar strapped around his back. After some time, Axel can be seen moving inside of the bag.
MAN
Huh? Hey. You keep still down there, would you?
Axel still moves inside of the bag.
MAN (CONT'D)
Look, this is goin'a be a long walk. That means you better cooperate with me, you hear that, Girlie? (Pause) You don't want to make me hurt you, now--
Axel falls out of a hole the bag with a shank in one hand and one of her boots on the other.
MAN
What the?!
The man looks behind himself while Axel stands up in front of him, holding her boot in both hands. She sends a finishing blow at the back of man's head and he falls to the floor. Axel cautiously looks at the man for a brief moment.
The man lies motionlessly on the ground. Axel drops her boot and fixes her shank back inside her pocket, then dusts off her hands before then squatting down next to him.
AXEL
Gosh, they really never hired me for nothing, huh... But I ain't into that stuff anymore. Say, can I have my guitar back?
The man does not respond. Axel lifts one of the man's eyelids and learns that he's out cold. Axel sighs with a slight chuckle. She lifts up the man and, with a struggle, unstraps the guitar from his body, before eventually slinging it over her own. Once fitting her boot back on, she then stands up and slowly walks over to the edge of the alley, whistling a chipper tune – the same melody she was playing earlier - on her way there. At the edge of the alleyway, her eyes look up. Then they widen.
INSERT – ELECTRONIC POSTER
containing Axel's mugshot and in large writing, "WANTED". Below is a list of details including Axel's height, approximate age, gender, race and the time and location of where she was last seen, “18:50, Southwest of Dasmus City”. There is also a cash prize.
INSERT – ELECTRONIC POSTER
containing the same contents as the previous poster, except the location which reads, “Southern markets of Dasmus City at 15:47, drunkenly playing a red Phenver brand guitar”.
A view of Axel between the alley's walls. All around are copies of the same two posters, both in electronic and printed forms. A mildly shocked expression crosses her face.
INT. TOILETS – DAY
A view of a row of toilet stalls. None of the stalls' doors are closed, except for the one in the centre. Axel's guitar leans on a nearby wall. Her feet can be seen in the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. Axel kicks the wall.
AXEL
Damn it! I'm such an idiot! What was I thinking?! Me? A musician? That's just one way to draw attention!
VONARB (O.S)
Axel? Is that you?
AXEL (CONT'D)
I can't b-- (Pause) Ms Vonarb?
Axel immediately opens her stall's door and looks in the direction of ALICIA VONARB'S voice. Vonarb walks towards Axel.
VONARB
And to think I'd meet you here of all places?
AXEL
I never expected to see you here, either.
VONARB
Well, isn't this quite the reunion?
AXEL
Eh. Not really.
VONARB
I'm surprised you got clever enough to get yourself out of prison.
Axel exits her stall.
AXEL
So, is that to say you're impressed with me?
VONARB
Nope. How'd you think I found you here so easily?
AXEL
Easily? That was easy?
VONARB
Anyway... Don't think I came trying to find you for no reason, now.
AXEL
Oh yeah! Coincidentally, I'm a bit short on cash. You don't happen to want to hire me again, don't you?
VONARB
(Laughs)
What? After getting yourself thrown in jail?
AXEL
Oh... (Pause) What are you even here for, anyway?
VONARB
Well. First of all... (Clears throat) Whatever you do, please don't take this the wrong way.
AXEL
Huh?
Silence. The two stare at each other. Axel tilts her head in confusion. Eventually, O MIHO and K CLAYMONT enter the room. Miho holds a taser while Claymont holds a bag.
CLAYMONT
Now, I don't mean to spread any panic or alarm--
AXEL
(Gasps)
You gotta be kidding me!
VONARB
I just said to not take it the wrong way--
AXEL
I knew it! You are as easy to see through as a window! It's 'cause of my “WANTED” sign, isn't it, Vonarb?
VONARB
Wrong!
AXEL
Huh?
VONARB
You see, we're here to keep you away from those authorities. And knowing you, you're probably so incompetent that you'd just wind up stuck in prison again! So, since you're with us, you're going nowhere.
AXEL
What? Why?
VONARB
You're pretty infamous now. And I've got my business to worry about, too. So, if it didn't all add up in that brain of yours, let's just say, I don't want to risk you ratting me out.
AXEL
Yeah, I'm not doing that!
Grabbing her guitar, Axel jumps on the sinks and runs along them. Miho runs to tase her. Axel whacks him with her guitar and then heads right out the door. Claymont follows.
CLAYMONT (O.S)
I got it!
EXT. CITY STREETS – DAY
A view of the front of a pub. There is people scattered everywhere. Suddenly, the door swings right open and Axel sprints outside with her guitar now strapped over her back. She continues along the street. Claymont chases right after.
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borealis #4 - nose
AO3 LINK HERE
there’s an extended scene i’m still working on for this, but there was a lot of stuff going on offline today (including internet blips) that ultimately caused me to leave off with the SFW version so i hope no one is too disappointed. XD
Prompt response is below the cut, as ever.
======
Perhaps the most self-evident observation that could be made of the small house nestled in its small copse in the Shroud upon first entry was that its adventuring inhabitant -- or inhabitants -- were either avid readers or wished any potential guests they might have to believe that was the case. The sitting-room with its tall shelves of books was immediately visible from the front entry, and one might be forgiven for assuming there was no possible way every tome on its shelves had been read.
In point of fact, the Warrior of Light was an avid reader when the subject fascinated her. However, this particular book was not the sort that normally caught her eye. She had only attempted to peruse its contents once, and that was yesterday when she had decided to outline today’s plan of attack. Last year, Nero had treated her to dinner - among other things - and she had completely forgotten the occasion.
Well, she was not going to be caught unawares by the holiday this year. Today was Valentione’s Day and by some miracle, confluence of the fates, or what-have-you, she had managed to capture a small handful of days to herself in order to prepare. The flower arrangements were simplicity itself; those were already set on the table along with the gift she’d commissioned, wrapped neatly in its box- part of his gift, anyroad- and now all she had to do was see to the dinner.
And the chocolates.
...Aurelia wasn’t nearly as sure about the chocolates.
Making them herself had seemed like a wonderful idea at the time, but she was starting to regret it. Warrior of Light or not, she really wasn’t what one would call the most accomplished culinarian, unlike Nero, who seemed to take the same meticulous approach to cooking as he did to his research and his engineering. He had grown up in a poor farming village, had learned how to make food alongside the grandmother who had raised him in order to help feed his family.
Whereas Aurelia had- well. As the daughter of a wealthy landed gentleman - even if he was a younger son - her upbringing had been very different. Her lady-lessons had not included such things; the husband her family selected for her would have hired a cook and a housekeeper in the interest of keeping up appearances. And as a child, she had wanted to climb trees and grow flowers and be a scholar, the seven hells take sweating over a stove or bending over a distaff until her fingers ached.
Too late for regrets now, she supposed.
Aurelia squinted doubtfully at the illustrated page, then back to the bubbling mess in the pot. It all felt rather simple, she thought. She’d never made truffles before, true, but only four ingredients? Surely she could do better than that. Chocolates with no embellishments seemed so-
“Well,” she muttered, “perhaps it’s fine if it’s a little uninspired.”
Though on second thought, watching the cocoa melt down in the saucepan: perhaps some brandy wouldn’t hurt? Culinarians put spirits in sweets and other things all the time, and she remembered some treats she’d had in the Crystarium with Lakeland brandywine in them that had been absolutely amazing.
With that decision made, she turned to make her way down the stairs towards her wine cellar, but the moment she set foot on the stairs, her linkpearl sounded off. Frowning faintly, she tapped the small device alongside the shell of her ear.
“Yes?”
“Oh, Relia!” Tataru’s voice, perhaps just a touch too bright, chirped across the aetheric link. “So sorry to trouble you! I know you asked for no calls unless it was an emergency.”
“So I did. Is aught amiss?” She glanced over one shoulder as she made her way down the stairs towards the cellar door, too impatient and worried about the state of her cooking chocolate to pay much attention.
“Oh, not at all! This isn’t a work call, I promise. It’s just, er…”
Aurelia knew the sound of Tataru’s ‘I’m about to ask you for a favor’ voice when she heard it. “Go on.”
“I was going through my measurement book for sewing patterns - for no reason whatsoever! - and realized I was missing one of yours. The, um, the bust.”
Her brows furrowed once more, this time in mild disbelief.
“...The bust.”
“Yes.”
“Just the bust size is missing. Somehow.” Damn, where had she put that cognac?
“Yes.”
Right. Well, you're clearly up to something, old friend.
She supposed she could grill Tataru for the details of whatever scheme she’d hatched, but attempting to pick apart the reasoning behind the Lalafell’s choice to call her with an extremely transparent lie would be better done while she was not preoccupied. In the meantime Aurelia didn’t see any harm in giving her a couple of measurements - she had, after all, entrusted her with them once before.
With this reasoning in mind, she rattled off the numbers as best she could remember them while squinting at the labeled bottles within the dimly lit rack. After a few moments of rummaging, she found what she was looking for just as Tataru piped, “I’ve got it. Thanks, Relia!”
“You’re welco-”
The quick chime of a severed connection left her in relative peace and quiet once more. Which was strange in itself, because usually when Tataru was making a social call Aurelia could expect to be on the hook for a good half-bell of her time.
But it was a question she could ask herself later. Right now she had chocolates to make.
She trotted happily up the stairs, bottle in one victorious hand… only to see an alarming amount of smoke billowing from the stovetop.
“Oh swiving Twelve- ” She made haste to the range and switched it off, then snatched one of the mitts from the nearby wall mount to wave back the smoke. Most of the pan’s contents appeared salvageable, thankfully, but it didn’t seem like enough. She wanted to make another batch, but if she didn’t have the extra ingredients-
Wait. I can just melt down some of the chocolate chips I saw in that bag in the dry pantry, can’t I? And just add the brandy in while it’s melting?
Aurelia turned towards the shelves of dry goods, somewhat cheered by the thought that she could spare herself a trip to the markets, at the very least. The bag was at the back of the very top shelf and she had to stretch a considerable bit to reach it, but she managed to pull it down without spilling any of its contents.
She set aside the saucepan with its half-scorched contents, reached under the counter for a fresh pan, and poured in the chocolate, then paused. She probably didn’t need the cocoa butter if all she was doing was melting pre-made chips-- she’d have to pour in the cream while it was still hot but maybe that was fine, maybe it would even help melt the chocolate faster. Then “a splash of spirits,” whatever that meant. To taste, perhaps?
Hmm. Speaking of taste, which patisserie was it back in the capital that used to put chilies in their truffles...?
Her good mood returned as she acted upon that stray impulse; she plucked one of the chilies from its bag and started cutting into fine pieces to add to the new mix. Of course, she might be getting a touch ahead of herself, but surely it would turn out alright in the end. These were all flavors she knew would work in chocolates so a little deviation here and there wouldn’t hurt.
The longcase chronometer in the parlor struck four just as she was stirring the pieces into the half-melted lumps.
Hells. She still had to put the noodles on to cook and she hadn’t even started the sauce yet. If she wanted everything to be ready in order to spring her surprise, she’d have to work fast.
That was all right. She’d worked under far worse conditions before.
With a determined nod, Aurelia tucked a stray tendril of hair back behind her ear, turned up the heat on the cream until it began to bubble, and uncorked the cognac bottle. ~*~
Nero was not sure exactly what he should have expected when he opened the cottage door, but the smell of burnt sugar and the sight of a darkened kitchen was concerning, to say the least.
He set the box that had been in his hands upon the nearby table (where, he noted, there was a wrapped box and a vase of fresh-cut flowers she had likely arranged herself) and ventured into the parlor. He found Aurelia sitting in one corner of the sofa, curled in a tight ball with her arms wrapped about her legs and her face buried in her knees. “Before you say anything,” she said, her voice muffled, “don’t.”
His brows arched.
“That bad, is it?”
“You have to ask? You can surely smell it for yourself.”
“I can.” Though he knew it was unwise, he cracked a grin. “...Did you perchance fight an eikon in the kitchen? Is that my surprise?”
Nero received precisely the answer he had expected for that particular bit of cheek: a sound swat to the face with one of the sofa pillows. He ouched as she drew her hand back and made an exaggerated face at her, but Aurelia didn’t take the bait. Instead she made a breathy, angry little hmph!, the sound muffled against her thighs, and tried to angle herself away from his perusal to face the apple-green brocade which covered the sofa’s frame.
“Sweetling-”
“Don’t talk to me,” she huffed. “I’m angry.”
“Yes, I can see that.”
“I’ve made a mess of everything.”
“I don’t see how- well yes, alright, I suppose the kitchen is a bit of a disaster. But it’s naught that can’t be salvaged.” He sat down next to her and smelled chocolate and… something alcoholic. “What happened? You look absolutely gutted.”
Finally she lifted her chin to look at him. Her blue eyes were very dark and very wide and shimmered with suspicious wetness.
"I was going to make dinner for you," she groaned. "I had flowers and a present and I was trying to make-”
“Chocolates.” Aurelia’s face was hard to see in the darkness but he could see her chin bob. “I take it something went awry.”
“A great lot of somethings. And then I was so busy trying to fix what had gone wrong that I burned dinner and-”
“Hush. Come here.” Reluctantly she let him untangle her from her sulk and pull her into his lap, like a tired kitten. “You know I appreciate the gesture, but it wasn't necessary.”
“Yes, it was!"
"How so?"
"I completely forgot last year. You went to all that trouble and I forgot. So I wanted to make it up to you. I thought if I could make it as special as possible-.... never mind.” Aurelia lifted her hands and stared at her chocolate-stained fingers with a disconsolate sigh. “...I’ll clean up the kitchen as soon as I’ve my wits about me.”
“You will do no such thing.” Nero kissed her on the nose, then gave it a tiny tap with his index finger. “You are going to go downstairs and run yourself a bath while I clean the kitchen- once I’ve dialed Mistress Tataru and thanked her for her very timely assistance, that is.”
So that was what that call was about! Seven hells, what had Tataru told him? The look on his face was that of a man hiding an extremely exciting secret, and she didn’t know whether to be apprehensive or curious.
Cautiously, she chose the letter.
“Dare I ask?”
“You can ask all you like,” he grinned, that smile that was so often in turns endearing and infuriating. “Whether you’ll get an answer before I wish to give it remains to be seen.”
Aurelia sighed but felt her lips curve in a smile, some of her humor returning. “Surely cleaning the house was not on your docket for the evening.”
“Of course it wasn’t- but there's really only been a slight change of plans. Once you've had a chance to clean up, you're going to open that gift, and then I’m going to show you how to make proper chocolate-- and how to put it to far more interesting uses than homemade truffles.” Her cheeks felt ablaze with color, and as she watched a mischievous curl crept slowly into his smile. “One good turn deserves another, after all.”
“Is this where I say ‘happy Valentione’s Day’ or somesuch?”
His lips brushed her cheek.
“It's a start,” he said. "And if it hasn't been happy thus far, I am quite confident I can make it so."
#nero x wol#aurelia laskaris#nero tol scaeva#happy valentione's day!#holds up a sign reading 'i'm sorry it isn't spicy'#i'll post that part in kissing book when it's done#chrysalispen writes
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Secret of a Guitar(ist) pt 2
Mick Mars x Reader, High Shool!Mötley
Read Part 1 here!
Summary: The Crüe keeps haunting (Y/N). A guardian angel tries to protect her while her friends don’t understand her moves and secrets.
When you got home you straight went to your room and laid on your bed thinking through what has just happened today. The canteen, the guitar lesson, and the fact that the school's best rock band met you. You came back to reality when you heard a knock on your door. "Come on in!" You said preparing yourself to tell about your day for. Your mother's peaked in the corner of the entrance.
"Is everything alright, honey? I don't want to disturb or anything."
"Yeah, I think." You murmured.
"Well, that didn't sound too good. Want to talk about it?" She asked stepping in the room. When you nodded she closed the door behind herself and jumped on your bed with an excited face. "Tell me everything!"
"Ahh, mom! Don't so that face, it's fucking creepy." You groaned into one of your pillows.
"Language, little lady."
"Alright. So nothing unusual happened. I was clumsy as always and then I embarrassed myself in front of the whole canteen so nothing new."
"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry."
"No worry, mom. At least, the fact that I did it next to the best rock band in the school just makes it even better." You were quite a sarcastic person. And you loved it.
"Sounds good. And what about the lesson? Was it good?" You raised one of your eyebrows while showing her your blue and green and also swollen wrist.
"Then what did you do? You came home pretty late."
"Actually, I had my first lesson today." You almost blushed thinking back how kind and understanding Mick was. "And it was quite... useful. The tutor is kind."
"He or she?" Your mother smirked recognizing your face.
"He." You sighed.
"Now I understand everything."
∆
"I see, your hunger came back yesterday," Simon observed watching you eating two sandwiches in 5 minutes.
"Phrovlemh?" You asked with a full mouth glaring at Simon. His answer was just a shrug though his face was still puzzled.
"And I can't see why we have to enter from the other side of the canteen when came in!" Emma complained, eating her salad. Tommy and the others were all sitting at their spot and the drummer was telling about his new ideas for the concerts. Nikki and Vince were all ears though Mick didn't pay much attention. He pretended to be writing his homework though his mind was on yesterday's events. Your passion for music and your caring personality, since you haven't told anyone about the lessons. Mick was just hoping that you would keep your words and so it was a pleasant disappointment. You were sitting with your back to him making things easier. He couldn't make it what you and your friends were talking about but he could see that Simon. More like Simon's look in his eyes, something Mick was friendly with. He knew that look.
"Mick!" Nikki kicked his friend under the table.
"What?" Mick groaned from the pain.
"What do you think?"
"About what?"
"Have you even listened in the last 15 minutes?"
"He was probably daydreaming about (Y/N)," Vince said to Tommy with a smirk. This time it was Mick's job to kick the singer. "So, we were...were talking about a party next Friday, at our place. Damn, man!" Vince pouted rubbing his ankle.
"I don't care."
"That was fast. Are you sure you don't want to come?" Nikki inquired. He knew Mick was not a party animal but sometimes it would be good for him..to socialize from time to time.
"I have never been more confident in a decision more." He said taking a sip from his juice. He wished it was something stronger.
"Hey, Sixx!" Vince leaned closer to his bandmate and whispered something in his ear so quiet Mick couldn't hear. But from the look on Vince's face and he gesturing towards at your table, Mick knew that the singer was planning something he won't like.
"I don't know, man. I don't think it's a good idea. She doesn't look like someone who is used to these things."
"At least you could apologize. Properly, if you know what I mean." Vince was grinning like a mad man but Nikki just shook his head.
"Okay. I will ask but we won't persuade her if she resists." He put his finger up as a threat.
"Alright. Understood."
"That girl has already suffered because of us." Nikki sighed.
"Hey, Mick did you understand the second task? I can't figure it out." Tommy has been struggling with a math problem since coming up with the party idea.
"Tommy. Tell me one task you understand. That would be easier." Mick snapped, closed his book, and stood up from their table.
"What did I say?" Tommy asked, a lot of question marks flying above his head. Mick was walking towards you but you couldn't see it, neither that he would push your books from the table.
"Oh, I'm so sorry." Mick bend down and picked up your books from the ground. Emma smirking while Helen was waiting for your reaction. "Let me pick you up." After he gathered most of your books without a word he left.
"What the hell was that?" You asked trying to find a reason.
"Didn't you see his face?" Emma was already annoying and you knew if she has planned something there was nothing that could change her mind. If she was sure that someone was in love with you then it was hella true, at least according to her.
"Why would've we watch his face?" Simon asked.
"Boys." Emma sighed and continued her meal, occasionally glancing at you with that evil smirk on her face. "Speaking of, look who are walking in our way!" You turned around to see those guys. Again! You tried to make yourself smaller and smaller but you didn't manage to. What would you give if you could become invisible!
"Khm. Hey, guys!" Nikki greeted.
"Hello. How can we help you?" Emma was so helpful as always. Helen barely said a thing today and it was bothering you.
"We were wondering if...you.." Nikki started. He never had problems asking out somebody but he was ashamed of himself.
"If (Y/N) and you would come to our place next Friday! What do you think?" Vince helped out his friend pulling him in a sideways hug. You glanced at Helen who shook her head slightly along with Simon whereas Emma was already nodding. "(Y/N)?" Vince turned to you.
"I don't know. I-I have to ask my parents." You mumbled rubbing your arm.
"I think what she meant that we are going. Just tell us the details." Emma handed a paper and a pen to Vince who accepted it happily and jotted down the address and his number just in case. He put it down at the table and giving you a final look he left with Nikki.
"What's just happened? Again?" Helen asked still in shock.
∆
"See ya later," Simon said before running to catch up with Emma and Helen leaving you at your locker. You needed some books for the next class and more time to process all the things that happened not long ago. You promised that you will never eat again there. It was too much now. Not only the boys but that all eyes in the canteen were watching you and Vince and Nikki. They couldn't imagine what you were talking about and the reason why they would even talk to you and your friends. They were popular ones. They don't talk to peasants. You put your math book in the closet but a piece of paper landed on the ground. While picking it up you looked around to see if anyone was watching.
Don't go. -M.
That's all. Who the hell would...? Oh. Mick must've inserted the paper when he pushed your books down, now, intentionally. You put the paper in your pockets and headed to class. It has already started and the teacher gave a death glare to you while you mumbled a shy sorry. You quickly took a seat next to Emma and leaned closer to her.
"About that party..."
"What is it?"
"I don't think I'm going. My parents won't let me..." You tried your best to sound honest.
"(Y/N), you have the coolest parents of the four of us, they will let you come to the party. And I don't want to hear any more excuses to avoid this party with the Crüe. You are coming."
"But what if I don't want to-" You couldn't finish your sentence because your teacher, Mrs. Jackson, stopped talking and was staring at your with crossed arms. You lowered your head and started to write down the things you wanted to tell Emma. "I don't want to go. I'm a party animal. And especially with those guys. They don't like me." You handed the paper to Emma who groaned reading it. She angrily wrote down her answer and tossed the paper back to you.
"I said NO EXCUSES! What are you hiding?" You placed your face in your palms and took a deep breath.
"Is there a problem, (Y/N)? Do you find it boring what I'm telling?" Mrs. Jackson asked stepping in front of your desk.
"No, Mrs. Jackson."
"Not that you arrive late, but you don't even pay attention in my class. You disappointed me. You will go to extra classes after school today." She said and write your name in her notebook. You hated her along with her stupid tasks. She and her freaking 'x'-s. Get a life! Emma gave you a sympathetic look and write in your notebook.
"Library after class."
"So what do you think of a test next lesson?" Mrs. Jackson cheered. The answer was a quote big no. "You don't know fun.”
∆
When you found your usual spot in the library you saw Helen and Simon there, too. You didn't want to include them as well, you don't want to drag them. You cursed in all the ways possible but went to your table.
"So mind telling us what the hell is going on with you?" Emma asked looking up from her book.
"What do you want to hear? Cause you clearly already know what you want to hear!" You hissed through your teeth. Emma angrily closed her book and smashed in on the table.
"For example, you said that some Gavin Smith held the guitar lesson. I did a bit of research and I found out that there is no guy with this name in this school. For fuck's sake, not even this town." Emma was pretty pissed off, you could tell.
"She must've had the reason to keep this as a secret, Emma. Calm down." Helen snapped at her friend.
"Oh, of course. She and her creepy secrets." She spit. If she wasn't your friend you would totally punch her. She has been quite irritating nowadays.
"And why don't you want to come to the party?" Simon spoke up. He cared about you truly, but he didn't like that you always were in your room and didn't do any fun.
"I have reasons." You mumbled leaning back in your chair. If Mick advised you not to go he must have the reasons. He knew those guys like his own brothers and he looked like if he cared about you. He wanted to defend you from whatever those guys are capable of. Not to mention that you didn't like parties. Halloween and Christmas party at the school, okay, but you haven't been to any house party yet. You really need to find a good reason why aren't you going.
"Really. It isn't because you are afraid of other people?! You aren't able to socialize, that's your problem. We are just trying to help you!" Emma ranted. This was the last drop.
"If you really think that why are you talking to me. I clearly suck as a company." You stood up and left them there and headed to the room where you will spend your extra lessons. Cool.
∆
"Can you tell mom I will arrive late?" You called your brother from a phone booth in the hallway.
"What did you do?" He laughed. He wasn't the sympathetic one.
"Mrs. Jackson." You lowered your voice not to let anyone heard that name.
"Does that woman still teach there?! How I hated that woman, damn!"
"Yeah, I understand somehow. So will you pass my message?"
"Yes, you rebel." After you hang up the phone you ran to the classroom. At least this time you weren't late. You looked immediately at the teacher's desk to see who will supervise you but he hasn't arrived yet. You let out a deep breath and looked around in the class. Your body tensed when you saw them. This can't be true. Luckily they haven't noticed you so you quickly put your hoodie on and turned your back to them. Maybe this way they won't notice you. You cautiously put your books on the desk not to draw any attention at you.
"Good afternoon!" The teacher said when he entered the class. He didn't bring anything but a book with himself. He sat down and looked at the Vince and Tommy in the back and chuckled. "What a surprise. What did you guys do this time?"
"It wasn't my fault. Tommy was the one who scratched 'Mötley Crüe' on the desk with a knife." Vince mumbled while glaring at the drummer.
"It was your knife, Vinnie. And you said that we should promote our band. I just did what you told." Tommy said with a calm tone. You just rolled your eyes.
"And who are you? I haven't seen you here." The blood froze in your veins and you wiped your wet palms on your trouser. You cleared your throat and you told your name at a very low voice so only the teacher could hear. "Sorry, can you repeat it? I'm such a deaf person." He joked.
"(Y/N)." You groaned.
"(Y/N)? That name sounds familiar." Tommy mumbled. You glared at your teacher who looked puzzled.
"You idiot, that's the chick who fell at the canteen!" Vince said while standing up and walking to you. He sat down next to you and leaned closer. "Hello, (Y/N)." He smirked. These two hours will be longer than you expected.
∆
Next chapter
Okay, this wasn’t much but I wanted to connect and prepare things. Things will fasten up.
Tags: @leatherandheels @littlemisscare-all @karrotkate <3
#Motley Crue#motley crue imagine#motley crue x reader#motley crue imagin#mick mars#mick mars x reader#mick mars imagine#nikki sixx#vince neil#tommy lee#high school au#80s rock#glam rock
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Xenoforce III Chapter 11
Chapter 11: Forgive Yourself (Disclaimer! You get the idea) There was a celebration for Janice’s Newspaper club. “Cheers to Edmund Pierce,” said Janice. Thanks to Edmund they finally broke the record. Edmund hung a photo and I was behind him. “Oh Michael, what’s up?” he asked. “Somebody’s happy,” I said. “Looks like you’ll be able to attend the science off after all,” said Edmund, “We found the real person behind all this.” He pointed to a picture of Xenoblade in the Black suit. “There’s your hero,” said Edmund, “Stealing tech and selling it to the space pirates.” There was also a video. “Damn, I didn’t think he’d actually stoop that low,” I said. “See, you ust assumed Xenoblade would never do something,” said Edmund, “It’s the modern age Michael, time to get with the times.” “You know its kinda funny hearing that,” I said, “Somebody showed me something similar to that photo and it looked….. familiar.” “Well, I should get to my suit,” said Edmund. “You’re trash Pierce,” I said to him. “I beg your pardon?” he asked. I showed him a flash drive with the real video footage of what happened during the heist. “Your videos a fake,” I said, “You were trying to frame Xenoblade.” “Where’d you get this?” he asked. “A little birdie showed it to me,” I said. He chuckled and tried to change the subject. “You’re a child Morrison,” said Edmund, “When the hell are you gonna give me a break?” I pushed him to the picture breaking the frame. “I’d be careful how far I push somebody if I was you,” I said, “You just might hurt yourself.” Some students came by. “What’s going on?” asked somebody. Edmund did a fake laugh and said, “We’re just horseplaying.” He then turned to me. “Michael please, I’m begging you,” said Edmund, “If you do this I’ll lose everything, and I’ll never be the popular student again.” “Should’ve thought of that before deciding to make a fool out of me and Xenoblade,” I said putting him down. “Michael what’s going on?” asked Professor Archibald. I gave him the flash drive with the video.
Everybody looked at it including Janice. Later they were in the office. Another Captain Falcon video was playing. “So, you got sent to the office, you screwed up, and you know what you did was wrong, but you did it anyway,” she said, “Perhaps a chat with the principal will help you set yourself straight.” As she was going on, Professor Archibald was looking at the photo. “It’s a fake,” said Janice, “The LA Video department confirms it.” Archibald turned to Edmund. “So it was you selling away our inventions, trying to get poor Michael here in trouble,” he said, “Some nerve showing your face here after that.” “Janice..” said Edmund. Janice turned her back on him. “Pack your invention and don’t bother coming to the competition,” said Professor Archibald. “I was just trying…” said Edmund. “YOU’RE DISQUALIFIED!” he said. Professor Archibald left. Edmund turned to me. “You have officially pissed me off Morrison, and you’re gonna be in serious trouble,” he said, “I’m talking suspension, expulsion, and deportation!” He didn’t know but Principal Gibson was right behind him. “I’m gonna make your life a living hell before you graduate,” said Edmund, “And I don’t give a shit if Principal Gibson sees it.” “You don’t?” asked Principal Gibson. “No, I….” said Edmund as he turned around, “Oh…. Principal Gibson.” “Woops,” said Vivian.
“What’s up Principal?” I asked. “Well I was looking for you to give you the final ingredient you need for your suit for the science off,” said Principal Gibson, “Good luck by the way.” “Thanks,” I said. “Also a student told me that Edmund said I was a weak spineless fool,” said Principal Gibson. “No, I said…… Sweet….. Stylish…. Cool!” said Edmund. “In my office,” said Principal Gibson. Edmund followed him. “Sure sucks when you get tattle-told on,” I said. “Looks like you’ll have to print a retraction now Janice,” said one of Janice’s club members. “I haven’t printed a retraction in 6 years,” said Janice. The charges were dropped. Later somebody called me on the phone. “Michael, its Professor Stephens,” he said. “OH hey,” I said, “What’s shaking?” He was looking at a piece of the black suit I still had. “This is quite the specimen you left me Michael,” he said, “Its like nothing I’ve seen before.” He was looking at a graph. “Talia can you get me some milk?” I asked. “Sure,” she said. “It has the ability to copy somebody’s skills and use them to its advantage,” said Professor Stephens, “It also amplifies the characteristics of its host, but more importantly aggression.” He kept looking at the graph. “You didn’t keep any did you Michael?” he asked. I wasn’t near the phone. “Do you have any with nuts?” I asked. “I can make some,” said Talia. “Michael?” asked Professor Stephens. “Oh no I didn’t,” I said. Vivian and I were walking around campus. I had a new leather jacket and some black jeans. “Looking good Michael,” said Vivian. “Thanks, you too hotness,” I said. Vivian chuckled. I was dancing around and doing crazy flips. Meanwhile Vivian gave some photos to Janice of Black-suit Xenoblade. Vivian was getting some equipment for her upcoming gig but is stopped by Janice. But she only invited her for a drink. “I don’t know if you heard V, but I’m…. not the chief of the photography club anymore,” said Janice. “Oh man, what happened?” asked Vivian, “Did you quit?” “Well…. Actually some students said some things about me,” said Janice, “Why anybody would have anything to say about me other than peaches and cream is a mystery.” Vivian laughed but stopped. “No, I get it, I’ve made enemies,” said Janice, “Guess I was just too blind to see it.” “So why were you so dead set on reaking that record?” asked Vivian. “I didn’t really care that much about the record V,” said Janice, “I was really there to deliver breath taking stories about something I find interesting.” “Oh,” said Vivian. “That’s why I’m so tough on my members,” said Janice, “Cause I need their help to make those stories come to life.” Vivian knew she wanted to help. “Well… if it makes you feel any better,” said Vivian getting out her private diary, “Read this; its filled with inspirations for my music and my dream.” I smiled knowing that they were getting along. Ratchet was cleaning stuff from a table. “Hey Ratchet,” said Denise approaching him. “OH hey Denise,” said Ratchet, “How’s it going?” “Pretty good,” said Denise, “Soooooo what’s this I hear about you practicing how to dance?” “What…. .how….. Where’d you get that idea?” asked Ratchet. “Grim told me,” said Denise, “I’m his favorite customer.” “Why did he do it?” Ratchet asked himself. “So why did you do all that?” asked Denise. Ratchet sighed. “Its because I wanted to look cool for you at the dance,” said Ratchet, “I didn’t wanna embarrass you in front of everyone. And also…. I….. really like you.” Denise ruffled his hair and said, “I know.” Ratchet was surprised. “You do?” he asked. “You’re terrible at keeping secrets Ratch,” said Denise as she smiled at him. Ratched chuckled and said, “You’d be surprised.” “But do you really think I care whether you can dance or not?” Asked Denise. “You don’t?” he asked. “No, I care that you’re having a good time,” said Denise, “As long as you are, then I’m happy.” Ratchet smiled. “So….. I was wondering,” said Ratchet, “Do you think you….” “Yes,” said Denise, “I’d love to go to the dance with you.” She smiled and kissed his forehead. Later I was getting ready for Vivian’s performance at a Pub. Before I went there I did a bit of running around and doing errands. Denise tuned her instrument and was about to go on stage soon. “You’re gonna kill it tonight babe,” I said in a flirtatious tone. “Thanks,” said Vivian, “Are you ok?” “Never been better,” I said. “Well, if something’s bothering you, you know you can talk to me right?” asked Vivian. “Yeah,” I said. I went to my seat. Edmund appeared. “What do you want?” Asked Vivian. “Do you think I’m freakin’ stupid?” he asked. “What are you talking about?” she asked. “I know it was you,” he said threateningly. He went up to the stage. “Before we begin tonight’s entertainment I’d like to share a few things…. Or should I say thoughts,” said Edmund pulling out a little book, “From Vivian’s Diary.” Vivian gasped. “In this box you’ll see thoughts and pictures of the person Vivian TRULY is,” said Edmund, “Then you’ll really decide if you want her to perform in this pub.” He looked back to Vivian ho had tears in her eyes. “I guess you weren’t meant for this after all,” he said. Vivian ran out the stage feeling humiliated. I wasn’t gonna tolerate what he did. (To the 4th wall) If that evil bastard thinks he’s getting away with that, he’s wrong. I ran up to the stage and delivered a super hard punch to his face. He landed on the floor and people were looking at him. “Time for you to learn your lesson,” I said, “You brought this shit on yourself!” I ran outside to find Vivian only to see Russell surrounded by 3 guys. “Let me say this slowly,” said the first thug, “Give me your money!” “I’m telling you, I don’t have any,” said Russel. “Don’t lie to us,” said the second thug, “Unless you prefer an ass beating.” “Hey!” I said getting their attention. They turned to me. “Michael no….” said Russell. The third thug pushed him down ready to attack. “FUCK MAN!” I said pushing him, “Fuck is your problem messing with an old man!” “What’s your problem?” he asked. “You’re my problem,” I said getting in his face. “Get this punk-ass outta here,” said the first thug. The second thug put his hand on me. “Let’s go,” he said. “Get your hand off of me,” I said pissed off. “Now!” he snapped. I pushed him to the wal and kicked him in the nuts. The third thug tried to hit me and I dodged and kicked him in the face. The second thug got up again and tried attacking but I grabbed his face and slammed it against a mirror and threw him down. “Don’t fuck with me,” I said. The first thug grabbed me but I quickly turned around and pushed him to the wall and was about to punch him. “Michael no!” said a voice. It was Vivian. “Don’t hurt me, just give me a chance!” said the first thug. “Well, did you give this guy a chance to explain himself, huh?” I asked. I pushed him to the brick all. “ANSWER ME!!!!” I shouted. I then looked at myself in the mirror. For the first time, I could see what I became. I slowly dropped him to the floor. “Get out,” I said. They all ran. Vivian looked at me. “Michael,” said Vivian. I ran off. “Michael wait!” she said, “Michael!!!” She then turned to Russell. “What?” he asked. “I don’t want you affiliated with that black man cause he doesn’t care about us people,” said Vivian. She then got in his face. “Look gramps, I love you but with all due respect I need you to shut up and listen to me!” she said, “Despite everything that happened Michael still risked his life to save yours.” He realized she was right. “Now think about the things you said, do you realize you were wrong to judge him based on looks?” asked Vivian. He nodded. “Good but don’t beat yourself up about it, acceptance is hard,” said Vivian. She went after me. I was in an abandoned building. (To the 4th wall) The professor was right. This suit….. its changed me. I knew I had to get rid of it. I tried pulling it off but it wouldn’t come off. “C’mon!” I said, “Get off of me!” I found myself in a dark area. “Think about what you’re doing,” said a voice. I was looking at a mirror version of me. “Remember what happened to the most important person in our lives?!” he asked. He showed me visions of my dad. “The world took him from us,” said my reflection, “And you wanted revenge.” I saw visions of Dad dying by the hands of Denise’s father. “There’s nobody in the world that can be trusted, except us,” said my reflection, “Take my hand and imagine all we can have, the villains we can destroy!” I realized he was right. But someone intervened. “Dad?” I asked. “He doesn’t need you anymore old man,” said my reflection. “That’s for him to decide,” he said, “You were given amazing talents, and I was too blind to see it, but now I see the kind of person you are, and you used those gifts.” “Well what good did it do?” asked my reflection, “That bastard Chrome till took you from us!” “From him, not from you,” said Dad, “And look what he did.” I saw a vision of me sparing Chrome. “And that was just the beginning,” said Dad. I saw every good thing that I did from back then to now.
“While that is all true, they never appreciated us,” said my reflection. “But his friends did,” said Dad, “They liked him just the way he was, and their friendship kept him going.” I saw my friends in my vision. “He’s right,” I said, “Dad never lost side of what was important to him, and neither will I!” “You can’t stop what you’ve become!” said my reflection. “Oh no?” I asked. I used an extra gauntlet and started fighting it. It was close to overcoming me, but I managed to hold my own and fight back. I finally broke free. “Dad, thank you,” I said. “Anytime son,” said Dad, “No matter what, I love you.” I kept struggling and dropped one of my gauntlets. It activated on its own and made a sound wave. I remembered that it effected my suit before. I struggled hard to finally rip if off of me. As it came off I trapped it in a ball using my digital headband. “There’s only one thing left to do with this,” I said. I took it to the lab. Edmund saw me. “The substance,” he said, “You finally found it!” I ignored him. “This is great,” he said, “With this I can still make money by letting people see it and….” He said, “Wait, what are you doing?!” “I’m freezing it,” I said. “You can’t it’ll destroy it!” said Edmund. I did the final part and it started to freeze. “NO!” he shouted. I flew away. “YOU’RE A FRAUD XENOBLADE!” he said. He placed his hand on the capsule and the substance reacted to it. “Wait…. You can understand me?” he asked. He tried opening it but nothing worked. He then looked at his exo-skeleton. “Yes…..” he said. He put it on and then smashed the glass open. The substance crawled onto him transforming him.
#ratchet and clank#xenoforce#xenoblade chronicles x#xenoblade chronicles#lin lee koo#smash bros#xenoblade#FFEU Phase 2#fan fiction extended universe#michael morrison#phazon#samus aran#metroid
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( selena gomez, 26, cisfemale, she / her ) Was that VIDIA MARSDEN? I heard a rumor they work for the FAUST family, but who knows for sure ? They can be a bit CAUSTIC & BLUNT, but I also heard they can be CHARISMATIC & GREGARIOUS. You’ll usually find them at TAKEDOWN GYM in their spare time, when they’re not being a FAUST CAPOREGIME / OWNER OF THE BLUE ORCHID. You may want to keep an eye on that one!
tw: domestic violence, domestic violence towards a pregnant woman, alcoholism
Full Name: Vidianna Adora Marsden Nickname(s): Vidia, Vidi Age: 26 Birthday: July 15th Zodiac: Cancer Occupation: Owner of The Blue Orchid (a luxurious spa). Gang Affiliation: Faust (as a Caporegime)
- F A M I L Y -
Father: Emilio De Silva Mother: Georgia Marsden Children: Has a two-year-old daughter named Angelica
Ex-Fiancée: Malcolm (prison)
- P E R S O N A L I T Y -
(+) Affable, Gregarious, Charismatic, Perceptive, Motherly (-) Caustic, Cunning, Impatient, Blunt, Cautious
Vidia is a very motherly type of character - her maternal instincts are constantly on overdrive, so she will literally smother you with mama energy if she’s given the chance. She absolutely loves children and sees anyone younger than her as someone she needs to care for...despite that rarely actually being the case.
Very meticulous and likes organization over being disorganized, and that includes everything - from her daily schedules, to her living space, to the rules of the Fausts, etc. Literally, unorganized chaos drives her crazy. Organized mess, on the other hand - that is the chaos that she thrives on.
She is mostly quite easy to talk to and to get along with, but she is also very stubborn and will fight and go toe-to-toe with someone if push come to shove.
Also, she does have a dark and sadistic side to her - violence and blood bring it out in her. She loves it. Odd, given her passed experience with such things, but she says that fighting and killing or watching someone else fight and kill - it keeps her grounded and reminds her that she wasn’t weak or someone who took anyone’s shit laying down.
- L I K E S / D I S L I K E S
Likes / Interests:
Being a mother
Reading
Ice Skating
Boating
Hair & Makeup
Running her business
Dancing
Going to the gym and working out
Huge foodie
Cooking
Baking
Dislikes:
Unorganized rules
Mess
Feeling useless
- B I O G R A P H Y -
Vidia Marsden was a young woman of many talents, raised in an extremely wealthy household where ambition and success was revered. She was encouraged from a very young age to dip her toes into as many pools as possible, and that’s exactly what she did, starting with dance classes at five and gymnastics at six - both of those she continued with up until she was out of high school. She took an interest in cooking and baking when she was also very young, and was taught to know her way around the kitchen from her family’s live-in cook, Lucinda. Those lessons she still maintained and worked on, to this day. She absolutely loved being in the kitchen - when she was stressed or angry, and needed to work off steam, you will most likely find her in the kitchens, making something (or in a gym somewhere, hitting shit).
When she was a little bit older, around nine, she started taking an interest in learning about makeup and hair, having accompanied her mother to The Blue Orchid - one of the many spas that her family owned - on numerous occasions. She fell in love with cosmetology and the whole process of cutting and styling hair, and the flawless application of makeup and how transformative both could be. She’d been utterly transfixed.
In high school, she played tennis and joined the cheer squad her freshman year, whilst participating in a handful of school committees, such as the yearbook and dance committee, and the student council as the treasurer (freshman and sophomore year), and then the president (junior and senior year). She wasn’t by any means the most popular girl in school - never wanted to be, either - but she was very well liked, all the same. She had a natural charisma about her that people seemed to be drawn to and that kept her friend circle large and ever growing.
Born in Los Angeles, California, but was raised in Chicago, Illinois.
Daughter of two extremely wealthy individuals. Her father, Emilio De Silva, was a well to-do hotshot attorney based in Los Angeles, California, while her mother, Georgia, was an heiress to a mass fortune - more specifically, a multi-million dollar corporation that specialized in luxury spas and individual hair & nail salons, world-wide.
The company, Marsden Spas Corporation, was established in Los Angeles in 1928, by her entrepreneurial great-great grandfather, R.D. Marsden, and has grown exponentially over the decades, with hundreds of their new businesses sprouting up all over the country and even a few globally. Destination spas, day spas, mineral spas, med spas...and a plethora of hair, nail and cosmetic salons.
Vidia’s parents were never married. In fact, when she was five, the two of them split up, and instead of staying in Los Angeles, Georgia took Vidia and moved the two of them to Chicago.
After the split, Vidia hardly ever saw her father. Once every few years, he’d have her flown over to southern California to spend a holiday with him, and he called maybe three or four times a year, if that. They didn’t really have much of a relationship during her childhood - Emilio was far too dedicated to his work to be a real father. He showered her with gifts and money from afar, but the parental dedication just wasn’t there. He loved her, but it was rare that he told her that.
When her maternal grandfather died from a heart attack, all of the responsibilities of running the family business fell onto Georgia, and to Vidia, who was set to inherit it all after her.
After high school, Vidia went to cosmetology school and studied business on the side. She already had very impressive hair and makeup skills and a deep knowledge for skin care, after spending a childhood around experts in those fields, learning and being mentored. It was her niche and she absolutely loved it.
When she was eighteen, she was introduced to the Fausts but she didn’t join the mafia until the following year. (looking to plot this out with someone, before I expand on the reasons that she joined).
After graduating college, she got a job at the The Blue Orchid as a hair and makeup artist whilst jumping in when needed to help her mother run the corporation as a whole.
At the age of twenty-two, Vidia met her now ex-fiancée, Malcolm. The two dated for two years before he finally proposed and they were set to get married...but then things just seemed to change with him. He drank a shit ton more than he ever had in the years she’d known him, and with that, his anger became explosive and volatile - it was like he had turned into a completely different person overnight. He was very irritable and easy to anger; the complete opposite of who she’d initially fallen in love with.
It didn’t help that she found out she was pregnant not long after the proposal.
At the time, she assumed he was just going through something at work that he just wasn’t telling her about and it would go away once whatever it was was resolved. She’d had no idea that it wouldn’t actually get better but rather it would escalate so badly.
Vidia was a strong and independent woman, who swore she would never allow a man or anyone to lay a hand on her more than once. It wasn’t in her nature to be so docile that she would take a beating laying down, and then come back for more and expect shit to be any different. Up until the point where she realized this was that type of situation, he hadn’t laid a single finger on her. His words had been his weapons.
It was his one and only physical attack on Vidia, that landed him in prison, her on life support and their daughter Angelica to be born several weeks prematurely. It had been the first and last time he had hit her - and it literally damn near killed her.
She hadn’t even seen the attack coming. She’d been in the process of making dinner when Malcolm came home, stumbling, drunk out of his mind and in the foulest mood she’d ever seen him in, and understandably, she’d been pissed. After all, this had been the new routine for months and she was sick of it, so she did what any normal, hormonally pregnant girlfriend would have done in that situation - she raised her voice - and that’s when he hit her. And then hit her some more.
She spent three weeks at the hospital in recovery over the attack, the first several days fighting for her life over the internal trauma he’d caused. Once she had recovered, and both she and her newborn daughter Angelica were released from the hospital, Vidia moved into the Faust Manor, where she’s lived ever since.
At the beginning of 2020, her mother officially stepped down as CEO of the company, wanting to do other things before she got too old, and this forced Vidia to take up the mantle as head of Marsden Corporation.
- W A N T E D C O N N E C T I O N S -
Faust Affiliates - Obviously. She’s been with the gang for seven years, so she’s bound to have known many of them for quite some time.
Best Friend(s) - Vidia is a more or less friendly person, especially within the Faust circle or when she’s around civilians, so I would love to have some deep friendship connections for her.
Little Sister / Brother Type - Someone younger than her that she absolutely mothers to death, whether they want her to or not.
Employees for The Blue Orchid - That would be dope, having a few of the stations within the spa manned by in-play characters.
Employee Suggestions: receptionist, massage therapists, hair stylists, colorists, nail technicians, spa attendants, spa concierges, wax specialists, estheticians, cosmetologists
Love Interests
One-Night Flings
FWBs
Enemies / Rivalries
LITERALLY OPEN TO ANY SORT OF CONNECTIONS
#crimson.intro#FINALLY finished her intro#after what feels like a damn year XD#feel free to hmu for plots & connections#her likes and dislikes aren't complete#those still need work
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Racing and Volcanoes
Ch. 5 of Altea High
“Uff!” Keith glared at the back of the douche that shoved him into the lockers. He barely repressed a snarl as he pushed off of the locker, his hands imprinted in the now-soft metal. Wincing, he scurried off before the owner of the locker came by, if it’s any consolation his gloves are ruined too, but they’ll probably not see it that way.
He softly clapped to put out the smoking fabric and hurried down the nearly empty hallway. The rest of the people didn’t shove him against the locker, in fact, gave him a wide berth. He’s not sure which one’s worse.
He knew high school was going to suck ass. Evidence: see four years ago. He’s already gotten shit from a bunch of people the first few days of school for having not one, but two, supervillain parents. And it’s not like he can’t hear the whispers, malicious, curious, or the ones with the slight undertone of fear. He didn’t blame them, they have the right to be afraid, it didn’t stop the fact it was very isolating though. He did like being alone but being forced onto the fringes of school society rubbed him the wrong way.
Yet…
He was relieved.
Two weeks into his high school career and nothing but just some dumbasses being dumbasses. Nothing on fire, nothing exploding, hell, he even made some quasi-friends. Even if those friends are friends with one of the most annoying idiots on this whole damn Earth.
Honestly, what’s his deal?
Whenever he had an answer in class Lance would try to beat him to the answer. He challenged him to who could get more points on a worksheet. He would subtly try to be slightly faster than him when walking down the hall. Starting random arguments about something that was said until they ended up in a shouting match over the quality of the school’s pudding. Just really random annoying shit. Keith wasn’t even trying to do anything! And if Lance wasn’t looking like him like he insulted his mother Lance was looking constipated. The first time Keith noticed he asked if the other boy needed to use the restroom but that just resulted in Lance declaring he was besmirching his honor or something.
Keith didn’t understand Lance. Sure he has to be around him whenever he’s at school but he still included him with his friends? Being partners during class was a requirement when needed but he didn’t have to sit with him or include him with his friends. He just needed to be in the same room as Keith really.
He’ll worry about it later. It was Wednesday and he needed to meet Coach Rush for moving the lava walls for the Terrain class later. One of the few times Lance didn’t have to babysit him.
Keith speed-walked down the hall, taking the longer but least crowded pathways. He stopped in front of the stairs and paused, around the corner was the elevator, and it was six floors down. Stairs? Or elevator? He should probably conserve energy for the lava walls.
He punched the down button with his thumb and crossed his arms to wait for the old elevator. It finally dinged down to his floor and opened to reveal Shay. Keith offered a smile as he stepped in.
Shay was the other person who was working for Coach Rush on the lava walls. She was a tall girl with coffee bean skin and warm amber eyes, and one of the nicest people he has ever met. Add to the fact he doesn’t have to worry about accidentally hurting her, she was aces. Her powers were to physically turn into crystal and in that state it’s nearly impossible for her to get hurt, but she’s slow, mobile but slow. He’s hypothesized that it was possibly diamond but she just laughed and said it was a lot better than diamonds.
“Hi, Shay.”
“Hello, Keith! Are you ready for the lava walls?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Think you can keep up?”
She laughed airily. “I’m sure I’ll manage.”
Keith was about to quip back but flickering lights interrupted him. They both looked up as the lights flickered on and off like they were in a bad horror film before they finally gave up the ghost and the entire elevator stalled.
The two looked at each other before looking at the control panel. Neither moved as the dim emergency lights came on. Shay broke the silence. “So, should we press the emergency button?”
Keith pursed his mouth before shrugging. Licking his lips he asked, “Does this normally happen?”
“It has happened, it’s an old castle, but it’s never happened to me.”
Before either could move the elevator stuttered and was descending again. The emergency lights turned off as the brighter yellow-toned fluorescents took over. Keith noticed the sheen of sweat on Shay’s dark skin he didn’t notice before.
He swallowed the upcoming lump. “I’m, uh, really sorry about…” He made a vague gesture indicating… everything.
She smiled kindly, eyes sympathetic. “Don’t worry about it Keith. I hope you don’t find this rude but, it doesn’t seem you…”
“Have control?” She nodded. “I… struggle with it sometimes.”
“Well, that’s why you’re here right? I’m here because, well, I really want to see the world and being here… helps.”
He looked at her curiously; she seems to have perfect control over her powers. He couldn’t imagine her hurting anyone or having issues with her powers that she needs help with.
She noticed his look and fiddled with the gold hoops in her ears, blushing slightly. “Uhm, as you know my powers is to turn my body into crystal, Balmarean crystal actually, and for me to make the crystal it actually takes some of my… energy? From me. And the crystal is physically a part of me, even when I’m not transformed, so it… saps? Life force from me. And being here has helped me stabilize my life force with the crystal so it doesn’t take so much out of me.”
She looked over to see his eyes wide and mouth ajar, she chuckled softly under her breath. “Uh, oh, wow. I—I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He stammered.
“It’s fine, I’ve had my powers since I was a youngling. I’ve grown used to it but being at Altea has only helped me with my powers and it can help you too.”
He smiled at her. “Thank you, Shay.”
The door dinged and the doors swooshed open. He let Shay out first and followed her down the hall to the Terrain room. It was the same room where they play Save the Citizen, there was always the classic of the citizen being dangled precariously over sharp rotating blades but they liked to mix it up with the Terrain class.
Terrain class went over different scenarios that could happen and how to survive in those environments with or without a supervillain or monster. Save the Citizen was more of a game that everyone liked to compete against each other but still good training, especially with teamwork. They liked to put the Citizen in more and more ridiculous scenarios that was originally part of the Terrain class. There hasn’t been a situation where a real life citizen has ever been held over an active volcano in decades. Some of the scenarios that they’re putting this fake doll in are only seen in movies or comic books. How is knowing the best way to escape boiling lava preparing future superheroes he asks you?
The weird scenarios of Save the Citizen were so popular that it eventually became a tournament that happens during the school year. There’s some sort of prize at the end and people pair up in teams unlike the random pairs chosen during class. Villains and heroes duke it out until there’s one big showdown between the top hero and villain team. None of the teams have been decided so far from what Shay said. They want the students to get used to classes before some bite off more than they can chew. It’s only rarely that it becomes unbalanced where the final battle is between two heroes or two villain teams, but if it does the heroes compete who can rescue the Citizen the fastest and the villains just try to defeat each other.
Keith found it kinda stupid. He can understand some of the lessons that come with it, teamwork, home advantage and disadvantage, unknown situations, and it would be useful to fight against other supers, but he still finds it stupid. The future superheroes that might actually have to save people should be learning the most common scenarios that would be happening, which would be in cities and for protecting real citizens. Not for stupid reasons like prizes or a tournament. What are the chances that someone is going to be battling other supers in some underwater cavern or a foreign jungle and not some building? Or even a street?
“And the last one!” Cheered Shay as she deposited the dormant lava wall from her crystalized back. She turned to him and gave him an angular smile, the crystal giving her sharp edges and straight lines but glowing from within, a physical representation of her disposition.
The teal, glowing crystals that made up her body dulled and cracked as bits and pieces chipped off of her. Perfect Balmarean shards fell into a pile at her feet, no longer glowing with her life force, until all that was left was a smiling Shay.
Kicking aside some of the discarded jewels she slipped off to the side to the Safe Zone. “Your turn, Keith!”
Keith looked over at the field in front of him. Seven craggy miniature volcanoes dotted across the floor. Bumpy with carved out lines from use but wide and tall enough that it could be scaled. The floor itself was reminiscent of the soil and land surrounding a real volcano but with that Hollywood effect. Raised platforms as solitary islands for when the lava starts flowing and surrounds the isolated landmasses for the superkids to maneuver from.
While the heat from the manufactured lava didn’t hurt him it did a bit more damage to his clothing despite being fire retardant. In the contained environment of the gym he felt confident enough to at least strip down to his T-shirt and leggings. He wasn’t risking his boots so he toed them off too and tossed them to the Safe Zone.
In his holey socks he climbed up the fourteen feet to the mouth of the mini volcano and dropped down, bending his knees on impact. He should probably climb down as this killed his knees but who had the time? Shuffling around he felt for the thick metal tube in the faux volcano and the connector in the floor that would transfer the magma. Slotting them together he scrambled as quickly as he could out of the throat of the volcano and slid as best as he could down the face to the others.
One by one he attached the mechanism as the former dormant volcanoes filled with lava and sluggishly spilled over the lips. The molten rock flowed down the worn crevices and onto the floor forming the deadly terrain for the freshmen. Keith doesn’t know where the lava goes after the class but he’s just happy he doesn’t have to clean it up.
When he attached the last one he scrambled down the last fake volcano skidding over to Shay with quite a few more holes in his clothing than before. He stopped quite a few ways away as she wasn’t in her crystal form and started to add his layers back on. He was in the midst of poking his head through his dark red pullover hoodie when a shout paused him.
“Kogane!”
He looked up to the top of the bleachers to see Coach Rush in all her glory, sweats and a zip-up. In a blink she was in front of him, hot air blowing his bangs back, she smoothed her brown ponytail before smirking at him. Coming up at five foot nothing she came up to his chin but that didn’t stop her from being one of the more intimidating teachers at Altea with her tendencies to just throw the kids in any situation that might prove difficult. Literally. The first week he was there he saw her throw a sophomore into a pit of snakes for class. The kid’s superpower was transforming into a mouse.
She looked at him with mischievous green eyes, “Has someone told you about the SC Tournament?” Slowly, he nodded. She nodded, half a smile on her pixie features, and pointed at him. “You would be great at it, have you thought about entering?”
His eyes darted around him landing on the bleachers, the glass barriers separating the seats from the fiery topography, Shay, and back to Coach Rush. He scooted a little farther away, snatching up his shoes and slipping them on, keeping his focus on tying firm knots. “Not really.” He started on the other. “I haven’t even played Save the Citizen yet or know anyone to be my partner.”
She hummed. “Shame. You’re quick, and that’s from me. We’ll play Save the Citizen next Friday; we still have about a week after that to set up the roster let me know by then. I think you’d be good. I gotta go grade stuff, good job you two!” She flashed a quick smile and a double thumbs-up before disappearing in a…rush... of wind.
Keith looked over at Shay who only laughed. He finished putting on the rest of his clothes and firmly putting his beaning back on his head before prodding the comfortable silence with a question. “Are you planning on entering the tournament?”
“Yes actually! My brother Rax and I are participating.”
“You have a brother?”
They started to walk back to the elevator, Shay pushed one half of the double doors open and Keith ducked under her arm. “I do. His powers are very similar to mine, he can form the crystals separate from his body but it’s a similar effect.”
He felt relief when the elevator doors opened, not because he didn’t like talking to her but he didn’t really have anything to say to that. That relief died a swift death when those doors revealed Lance.
He didn’t notice Keith yet too distracted with talking to a pretty girl next to him. His hair was wet, slightly curling as it dried, and his blue baseball tee and jeans were damp and clinging to his body drawing attention to his shoulders and waist. Keith scowled. Who put their clothes on directly after swimming? That’s disgusting.
Lance looked over, a bright smile on his face, at least before he saw Keith. The girl next to him nudged him, the petulant frown on his face relaxed into another big grin when he saw Shay. “Shay-bae! How’s it going?”
“Nothing much. Keith and I just finished with the volcano obstacle course.”
“Keith helped?! And they’re going to allow children on that?!”
“Hey!” Keith shouted, taking an unintentional step forward.
“I-I’m sure it’s fine!” interrupted Shay, waving her hands an attempt to calm the two boys down. “Even Coach Rush said that Keith was good, she even said he should sign up for the Tournament.”
The doors were about to close until Lance pushed them open again. ”Reeeaally? Keith here? Epic emo child, I-work-alone boy wonder? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him work with anyone. He couldn’t do it, it would be against nature.”
Keith could feel his eye twitch. Where the hell does this guy get off on thinking he knows him so well? They’ve only known each other for a few weeks and most of that time they were bickering! He could work on a team if he wanted to, if he wasn’t working with an idiot. Which doesn’t seem likely at this point since Lance was going to be his partner. Granted, he’s actually right in the fact that he prefers to be working alone and has for pretty much the entirety of his school career but he could work with others if he wanted to! He could do well it Pidge, or maybe not since her powers are plant based, Pokémon did teach him something… He could work with Hunk, at a distance, or even Shay! Hell, with Shay’s powers he wouldn’t have to worry about burning her! But she said she’s teamed up with her brother.
Bottom line was that he could kick ass in the Tournament with the right person.
When he said just that Lance just gave him a smirk and pushed the door open again. “Please, with your prickly personality it would be a miracle that someone would put up with you’re as—butt.”
The girl next to him burst into laughter, her teal-blue hair drying in the proximity of Keith’s powers. “Oh my God, Lance! You’re still doing that? You’re mother’s not here, I’m sure you’ll be fine to swear.”
Lance looked seriously at the girl, tipping his head down the slightest bit to make sure his navy eyes met her cerulean ones. “Plax,” He paused, his eyes squinted and turned into something towards pleased surprise. “…You might be right. My mother isn’t here! Ha! Keith! You are an a—“ His pants buzzed. He reached into his pocket and swiped a few times on the screen, his face going through a series of emotions before deciding on a deadpan stare he leveled a Plax. “That’s a my mother.”
Despite the dead serious delivery of that statement the taller boy’s lips twitched and the girl, Plax, sputtered out a bark of laughter before giving up and snorted while Shay gave a polite giggle.
“Oh my God, your mother knows all,” Plax breathed, hand to her heart.
Lance shrugged and stopped the doors from closing once again. “She always seems to know. And oh my God, just get in the elevator!”
While Shay hurried in Keith paused. The elevator was on the smaller side and there were quite a few more people, in the forms they are now he could hurt all of them. Would it be safe with his kind of powers?
“Are you coming, Keith?” Shay asked.
“Umm…”
“Just get in here, Mullet. You were just using your powers right? I’m always colder when I use my powers. If it gets too steamy I’ll just turn up the AC.”
Okay, this. This here is why Keith doesn’t get Lance. He acts like a jerk eighty percent of the time but then he does other stuff like this! Covering for him for his lack of control. He’s not blind and he’s not stupid but he just doesn’t understand what’s going on in that frosted over brain of his! Either be a jackass or not, he’s fine with either; just pick one!
Nonetheless, he crosses the threshold before the doors close again. He goes to stand as far away as he can from the rest.
Until Plax started to move closer to him. “Lance,” she whined. “We just got out of the pool and you’re making me freeze to death. I’m standing by Keith.”
Eyes wide Keith practically lurched towards Lance, scrambling to make sure that he didn’t touch anyone. When he was on the opposite side of Lance everyone stared at him and his face flared with new heat, smoking his hat and counteracting the cold he could feel from Lance. “I—uh—I’m a little too hot right now.”
Lance looked physically pained for a brief moment. Keith checked to see if he touched him before Lance blurted, “Hot damn!”
Keith looked at him, face screwed up in confusion while Shay giggled and Plax snorted again.
”What?”
“You know the song? By Bruno Mars? I’m too hot! Hot Damn!”
”What?”
Lance looked him up and down, but not in the constipated or disbelieving way that Keith’s used to but more contemplative. “We’ll work on it.”
It was then that Keith noticed how chilly where he was. Plax was right; standing next to Lance was how he imagined being in a meat locker was. He was actually cold, and he was never cold. Except for that one time, but it still threw him for a loop.
Was it just Lance trying to out-do his heat powers? Sounds like something stupid he would do. It also occurs to him that he might not be producing enough heat, but he’s been sending off heat waves enough to roast marshmallows to a perfect golden brown since he was thirteen, why would he stop now?
The cold was starting to recede a bit. “Dude, you need to chill out. Heh, get it? Chill out? But I have an idea, here.” Lance reached for his hand and Keith bodily recoiled, left hand as far away from his as he could get.
“What? No!”
Lances brow furrowed. “Dude, like I said, chill out. It’ll be fine; you won’t get cooties or anything. Just—let me—c’mon—dude! Just give me your hand!”
“No! I’ll burn you! Are you stupid?”
“You won’t burn me! My powers are ice; it’ll be fine! I wanna try something! If you would—just—work with me here, gah!” Lance stepped back heaving a breath, hands up like Keith has a gun on him. “Fine. Okay, you win.”
Slowly, Keith lowered his guard. Lance stuffed his hands in his pockets so Keith crossed his arms. He shifted his weight to one hip, waiting for their floor. Looking over he noticed that Lance engaged Shay and Plax in a conversation. It made him frown, he didn’t want Lance to burn himself by trying to do something stupid but he so easily forgot about his existence for a couple of cute girls. Some guide.
He turned to look at the numbers at the top of the elevator, only two more floors left. He could feel their powers trying to battle each other; every so often the temperature would get slightly warmer or colder. Not enough to be uncomfortable but enough to be noticeable.
“AH-HA!”
“AHHH!”
Lance straight up tackled him to the floor! This guy had a fucking death wish or something! He shoved at the body on top of him with his clothed shoulder and elbowed him in the stomach. “What the fuck, Lance!”
“Ha! Told you it’ll be fine!”
Keith looked down to see Lance grasping the back of his hand. The hand with the ruined fingerless gloves that showed patches of skin through. Lance didn’t recoil or shout in pain but there was steam hissing from their two hands.
“What the fuck.”
“Mamá told me that with our powers like they are they should naturally cancel each other out. Like if we focus our energy on one point, like our hands, everything else should be relatively the same temperature. Mamá Martinez knows all.”
“I thought your last name was McClain, Lance?” Shay asked.
“That’s his last name, his mother just didn’t take his father’s last name,” Plax replied. “And his mom works with super-powered kids, she should know.” Plax sounded proud, almost like she’s speaking about her own mother than her friend’s.
“Oh! That’s interesting, what does your mother do, Lance?”
Lance pulled Keith up by the hand but Keith kept staring at Lance’s hand in his. In all honesty the entire conversation seemed very distant, like all these people were shouting from across the school.
He guessed it makes sense; Lance and him did have completely different powers so one theoretically would cancel the other. He focused his attention to the temperature and for once since he was eleven he wasn’t running hot. He shivered, not used to the lack of heat.
The doors opened on their floor not long after. Once Shay and Plax stepped off the elevator Keith quickly, but not too quickly, it didn’t bother him at all, ripped his hand out of Lance’s and crossed his arms.
Lance’s face was red high on his cheeks but he rolled his eyes dramatically. “Come on, we have Slav next. You need to make this class more than anyone.”
“What the hell does that supposed to mean?”
“It means we need to get to class, you pyro.”
While he would have loved to stay and put Lance through the inquisition the warning bell rang and they only had two minutes to get to the Analysis of Property Destruction and Prevention on the second floor.
Lance sprinted off in the direction of the stairs. “Race ya!”
“You cheater!”
Keith briefly wondered if the flying school bus could just drop him down the chimney. He might ask the bus driver next time because trudging all the way from the bus stop is way too much work after Wednesdays. He’s done exercise before but he’s been homeschooled for four years and there’s not much required physical labor with that unlike activating seven volcanoes.
“Scarlet, I’m home!”
“I’m in the kitchen!”
Keith walked in expecting her to be cooking something; usually he helps by taking things out of the oven with no oven mitts. He’s really helpful cooking bacon in the morning when the hot oil starts attacking.
What he didn’t expect was Scarlet frowning hard enough to pull a deep V in her brow, staring at the envelope in her hand like it did her a great injustice. Her amber eyes darted up to him and back to the mail. She frowned even harder and bit her lip. Finally she sighed and pulled out a chair for him and handed him the letter when he sat down.
Carefully, he took it, holding it by the edges. “What’s this?” The address on the envelope was messy and looked like the pen was losing ink by the repeated indents and sputtered out ink. In a handwriting that decorated his childhood with notes and permission slips.
“It’s a letter from your mother.”
Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch.3 Ch.4
Ao3
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