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thiswasinevitableid · 4 months ago

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Aim True (Bridglar)

The runner-up of the "country loves songs" prompt poll was: Trick Shot

Virginia City gets cheesier every year. John is just glad the worst of the Nevada heat hasn’t made an early appearance; last year, it reached triple digits in spite of it being only May.

“Mr. Bridgens!” Three of his students wave to him from in front of the “Olde West Shooting Gallery.”

Why they’re attempting a middle English spelling in a state that never saw a British colony is beyond him, but he waves back as he crosses the road to join them.

Ostensibly, this field trip is to cap off the senior year with a celebration of Nevada history. John doubts more than a handful of students see it as anything other than a chance to spend the day browsing souvenir shops, daring each other to go into the plethora of haunted hotels, and gorging on ice cream and caramel apples. But they look forward to it, and he does like seeing the young minds he’s shepherded through AP or standard English have a day to just be young and carefree.

Principal Franklin sets only three mandatory events for the day: getting to the bus on time, getting back on the bus on time to depart, and seeing the live “Wild West” show.

The trio of students tells him all about the Silver Queen as they find seats in the open-air theater. John ends up between Franklin and James Fitzjames, the drama teacher. He wishes he’d taken a cue from VP Crozier and brought a large hat; the sun is baking his scalp, and the flies keep buzzing past his ears.

“Ladies and gentlemen, cowpokes of all ages, prepare for the wildest show this side of the Rockies!”

The crowd cheers with mild enthusiasm; it’s only the 11am show, after all. No one has had time to imbibe from the saloons lining the street. Not that John would anyway; he’d sooner die than be a derelict chaperone.

A stetson-bearing figure bursts through the central curtains and the staff, and a few of the seniors, hoot and clap. Thomas Blanky, former and much beloved shop teacher, gives an exaggerated bow before launching into the same speech he gives every year.

“Howdy folks! We’re just plum tickled you could join us all on this fine, Friday mornin’. We got a real fine show for you today full of sharp shootin, trick ropin’, and the prettiest face in the west” he winks, “the rest of my troop ain’t bad either.”

Bad accent aside, John enjoys seeing his old colleague acting the ham. Blanky runs through a handful of mildly impressive trick shots, including popping balloons taped to the hats of his fellow performers.

Next is a comedy act involving a literal dog and pony (and a cockatoo), the handler going by Irving insisting that the routine is wholesome while his co-presenter and the exotic bird do everything they can to undermine this assertion.

The third act earns an incredibly loud cheer from James and Francis, as well as from the rather odd duo behind them of Goodsir (biology) and Collins (P.E). Lady Silence, as Blanky calls her, steps onto stage, and John is tickled to see she’s sporting period-accurate Shoshone clothing. Her act consists of more elaborate trick shots, all of which she does without uttering even a peep of fear while permitting a tarantula, then a scorpion, then a rattlesnake (“really a gopher snake” Francis mutters, only to be elbowed by James) to climb on her arms and hands.

When Lady Silence is done, she’s followed off stage by the loudest cheers so far, including a “Brava” from Goodsir.

Act number four sets John's heart beating quicker; knife throwing has always struck him as one of the more dangerous endeavors one could pursue. It doesn’t help that Mr. Irving is back, looking a bit too convincingly terrified as one Mr. Hickey outlines his silhouette with knives. When both men exit in one piece, he relaxes and listens to Blanky introduce the final act.

“And now, to close out our show, the amazing, whip-smart, hawk-eyed, Harry Peglar!”

John’s heart speeds up again.

The man smiling out at the crowd with quiet showmanship and earnest excitement has the most handsome face he’s ever had the pleasure to see.

Harry tips his hat and proceeds to shoot smaller and smaller targets from the air. The coin shot is so impressive that he even hands it to Crozier to inspect before and after the shot. As he straightens and tucks the coin into his pocket, his eyes fall onto John

“For this next trick, I need a charming assistant. How about you, sir?”

John blushes, his instinct to demur, but both Franklin and James urge him forward, and so he allows Harry to pull him up onto the stage. Some of his students cheer, and he can tell without looking that many phones are pointed his way.

“What’s your name, sir?”

God, does the man have to address him that way? He can only pass so much pink off as

sunburn.

“John.”

“Tell me, John, do you smoke?”

“No.”

“Good man.” Harry claps him once, friendly, on the shoulder, “you do, however, know what one of these are?” He produces a cigarette from his pocket.

“Yes.” He smiles, “I said I don’t, not that I never.”

Audible shock from some of the students earns a laugh from the crowd.

“Are you willing to hold this in your mouth for me? It won’t be there very long.”

John obligingly parts his lips only to realize, belatedly, that Harry meant for him to take it from his fingers. Without missing a beat, the trick shooter places it against his lower lip with a grin.

“Now, John, I have another question. Do you know what this is?”

He holds a bullwhip up to the crowd to “oohs” and “ahhs.” John, slightly distracted wondering where the man had been hiding the implement, nods. He’s fairly certain James is cheering extra-excitedly; he did make John watch all four Indiana Jones films.

“Here’s what I’m going to do, John. I’m going to light that cigarette for you. And before you even have a chance to inhale, I’m going to put it out from all the way over there.” He gestures eight feet to his right.

Harry looks over his shoulder, still audible to the crowd but with clear sincerity, “Do I have your permission, John?”

He nods again, trying not to imagine all the other things he’d grant Harry permission to do if he gave him that same look once more.

“Wonderful! Let’s have some cheers for my brave volunteer!”

He uses the cacophony to huddle in close to John, who steadies the unlit cigarette steady with his fingers so the younger man can click a tarnished Zippo beneath it. Then, in a blink, he’s out of reach, unfurling the whip and testing it, bantering with the crowd but keeping his focus clearly on John.

“Ready, John?”

Not knowing what else to do and feeling too tense to nod, he offers a thumbs up.

“Hold still now, I’ll have that out for you in three, two, one.”

Crack

His ears ring, though the claps from the crown and the lack of any blood on his face tell him Harry managed his trick beautifully. He holds up the remainder of the cigarette, increasing the cheers.

“Well done, John!” Harry practically bounds up to him, “let’s give him one more round of applause, folks!”

John means to leave the stage to the performers once more, but before he can, Harry grabs his hand and brings him down into a bow along with him.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There’s an hour left to go on the field trip, and John is an extremely icy cold brew that Fitzjames treated him to. Most of the students are staying close to main street, finishing up their last purchases and taking endless pictures of each other.

“They were a fun crowd.”

He turns to find Harry leaning against a streetlight, still in his cowboy costume, ten times more handsome than anyone who ever played the role on screen “school groups can be hit or miss.”

“I’m glad as well; an excellent show deserves an appreciative audience.”

“Easy to put on a good show when you’ve got good help. I, um” he reaches into his pocket, “I have to go get ready for the show at two, but I meant to give you this before you hopped off stage. I always like to give it to my volunteer for that trick. This time I was a little flustered and forgot.”

Harry holds out the coin from his sharpshooting trick, dropping it into John’s palm.

“Oh, I-” He’s not sure if he means to protest, or say thank you, but Harry cuts him off by closing his palm for him, keeping his own hand around it.

“Something to remember me by.”

A flash of a smile, followed by someone shouting his name from across the way, and then he’s gone. John stands, watching him walk toward the theater, and savoring the ghost of those fingers around his own.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Late June finds him back in a much hotter Virginia City, the sun refusing to drop behind the mountains quickly enough to provide a much needed respite from the glare. He hadn’t expected to visit again so soon, but Silna and Goodsir invited him to meet them for dinner; the Delta Saloon has begun serving a special, twice-monthly menu of period accurate fare and he’s very excited to see if it’s any good.

Arriving early–there’s been bad traffic the last two days so he erred on the side of caution–leaves him ample time to ponder the historical artifacts tucked away in the corners of the saloon. He’s reading the plaque on the “suicide table” when a figure steps beside him.

“Anticlimactic, I always thought.”

Harry smiles when John looks his way, the undercurrent noticeably changing from friendliness to hope when John smiles back. He’s dressed in modern clothing; a black tank top, tan shorts, and ankle hiking boots (much better protection against the dust, pebbles, and sunburn than the sandals of most of the visitors).

“The story” Harry continues, “that it’s named that when what happened is one or two people might have killed themselves because of losing money at it, not because someone used it in one, or died right on the wood. Besides, if that’s the bar for calling something a suicide table, I’d bet half the slot machines from here to Vegas need the same plaque.”

“Agreed. Though I do enjoy the thought of preserving some piece of the past, even if it’s to make salacious signs about it.”

“Did you come all the way back just to read our signs?” Harry says with a hint of cheek.

“That depends on if there are any you think I’d like.” He turns full-on toward Harry, who aims for a subtle looking him over and fails.

When his phone buzzes, he considers dropping it in the nearest pitcher of water.

“One moment, I’m meeting Silna and Harry, other Harry, that might be them.”

H. Goodsir: Running late, courtesy of the majesty of nature.

Attached is a photo of a herd of mustangs, who seem utterly disinterested in moving from both lanes of Highway 50. He shows it to Harry, adding, “That’s not sarcasm; the man is delighted any time he sees the native wildlife. Which doesn’t always end well; we were driving to a conference in Tahoe once and he stopped to look at a large black bear. Still in the car, of course, but poor Mr. Collins was still rather stressed by the proximity.”

Harry laughs, then tilts his head towards the bar, “Sounds like we might have time for a drink?”

“I’d say so.”

John orders a gin and tonic, paying for Harry’s lager with a playful, “they don’t pay teachers that poorly” when the younger man tells him he doesn’t have to.

“What do you teach? I didn’t get the chance to ask and I’d been wondering.”

“English, two classes of honors and the rest for seniors and a handful of juniors.”

“I hope they get on better with you than I did with mine; we got into an argument over Tess of the D’urbervilles and I’m not sure he ever got over it. The dyslexia didn’t help; he thought I wasn’t applying myself.”

“That’s a shame. There are lots of ways to assist students who struggle with reading, for any reason. And as a teacher, I’d argue it’s part of the job to make sure you do.” He sips his drink, “may I ask what the argument was?”

“I just thought it was worth talking about how Hardy has a lot of opinions on farming and morality for a man who probably never did any farm work. All well and good to talk about the evils of modernization taking us away from nature, but acting like the things that make running a farm ten times easier are evil because they don’t match your imagined idea of the life seemed…shallow. And I thought that might be an interesting angle to look at the book from. Mr. Thompson disagreed.”

“I happen to think it’s an excellent point.”

A shrug and a sweet smile, “Might have just come to me because I grew up on a farm. You grow up shoveling cow shit, you have some thoughts on the pastoral.” He flinches, “pardon my french.”

“Harry, I was in the navy for ten years, I’ve heard profanity that would make the devil faint.”

“That’s why you have tattoos. I noticed them during the show and, um” he takes another sip, licking his lips after in what’s either an automatic motion or a bid to drive John mad with desire, “I’ve been thinking about them ever since.”

He forces himself not to say that if he’s a very good boy, Harry might get to see the rest. This can just be a friendly drink. If Harry wants it to be more that’s for him to decide. John won’t push it.

“None of your own?”

“Not yet. I want to get a line of poetry but I haven’t decided on which.”

John is very glad for this; if he’d managed to get Harry into bed only to find lines from one of the greats etched into his skin, he might have fainted.

“Who are the contenders?”

A snicker, “Thomas Hardy, for one. I do love his poems about nature. I like Whitman too, but it’s so hard to choose…”

They spend a good half-hour discussing the merits, and ironies, or tattooing varies stanzas onto oneself. By the time Goodsir taps him on the shoulder, they’re leaning far enough towards each other that his glass nearly hits Harry’s jaw when he jolts in surprise.

“I was starting to worry you’d be stuck there all night.”

“I’m sure.” Goodsir says with a smile and a glance at Harry that suggests he doesn’t fully believe him, “they eventually realized there were better places to rest their hooves. I got some wonderful pictures though.”

“You’re going to run out of memory at this rate. Again.” Silna keeps her amused look as she adds, “do you want to eat with us, Henry?”

“Oh no, I don’t want to intrude, I was just keeping John occupied while you got here. I ought to be going, it’s not the longest drive back to Dayton but I’ve got a mountain of chores to do. I’ll see you tomorrow, Silna. Nice to see you, Harry, and it was wonderful talking with you John.” He offers a final, parting smile. John watches him go once more, wondering if doing so makes him lecherous, or if he even cares if it does. At the door, Harry pauses, looking back, and his face brightens when he sees John is looking at him. Then he winks and steps into the finally cooling air.

“Your right pocket.” Goodsir murmurs as the waiter leads them to a table.

John ventures a hand into his shorts and finds a slip of saloon napkin next to the coin, the one he’s been carrying like a lucky charm for a month.

Give me a call

It’s followed by a phone number. Harry didn’t have a chance to write it while they were talking, which means he must have done it the moment he saw John in the bar.

Silna shakes her head, “I told him I could just give it to you for him.”

“You trick shooters, you do have a flair for the dramatic.” Goodsir pulls out her chair.

“If we didn't, no one would watch.”

John lets them banter for the moment. After all, he has to attend to the pressing matter of asking if Harry would like to join him for coffee tomorrow.

#bridglar #john bridgens/henry peglar #john bridgens #henry peglar #amc the terror #yeehawgust 2024 #modern au

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intertexts · 7 months ago

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TAKING A WORM BREAK FOR A LITTLE BIT SO HERES AN UPDATE ON MY.THOUGHTs. leaving myself on a cliffhanger theyre about to take the money to the boss and rachel js missing/not answering her phone. HOWEVER I AM NOT THINKING ABOUT THAT RIGHT NOW.

ohhhh my god dude i love the undersiders so much. i love that theyre friends i love that theyre so immediately welcoming to taylor. its been so long since ive read a story that just had "teen girls hanging out together" in a casual lighthearted well written way. i love lisa so much dude. also brian buying taylor the dragonfly amber.... and alec continuing his streak of being so annoying little brother coded but like. in a way that thats just how he treats the people he likes. fuckign. holding these characters in my hands like baby birds. theyre so important 2 me.

AND !!!!!!! TAYLOR *AND* BRIAN ORIGIN STORIES. ohhhh fucked up! fucked up!!!! every day i think taylor you are so strong but also arent you tired of being nice dont you just want to go ape shitt!!!! i have said this so mucj about her and every new detail i learn just makes me feel stronger about it. and brian doing all of this for his little sister dont DO THIS to me. you CANNOT give me fucked up siblings again you know im so unwell over those !!!!!!!!! brian grue worm 🤝 edyn tidestrider occupying the same big sibling doing fucked up thing in the name of doing everything in the world to protect their little sibling. this is nothing. that is their only similarity so far however it is enough to put them in the same little wrinkle in my brain. absolutely fucking loving this story btw hi. i hope ur morning is good :]

THEY R FOUND FAMILY I TOLD U!!!!! i love the undersiders so fucking much they're so good all of themm... i also was rereading those chapters this morning & man. i forgot how good they r... they're friends!! theyre teenagers hanging out going shopping together!!! lisa my fucking beloved i have so so so so so many thoughts about her all the time im unbelievably obsessed with the whiplash btwn tattletale's mean bastard queen moment w/ amy & victoria dallon & then immediately oh!! shopping trip w the girlsss :]] shes so girlfriend. 2 me.

YEAHHHH!!!! YEAH!!! TAYLOR & BRIAN TRIGGER EVENTS!!!!!! WHOOOOO!!! clapping and cheering and crying. i think another 50% of the worm experience is just going taylor please go apeshit you deservr to go apeshit!!& brian... man. man. im so glad u like themmmmm dude im so excited for u!!!

#ALSO really good place 2 take a break for a bit there is a LOT headed ur way in the next couple chapters lmqoo #anyway HII also im gonna go over 2 ur inbox now to pick ur brain some more i hope ur sunday morning is good toooo <3333 #mac tag!#wormposting

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oogaboogaspookyman · 1 year ago

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Buckle up bitch imma ramble

Every single character gets extra expressive sprites that fit their character, no exception (except maybe Trallface because it's funny) (Trollge Gf is probably a little more... Flirty and provoking)

Y'know Sadness? It's getting thunder strikes as part of the song, like Alone from Mario's Madness, plus Smiler shaking to the beat (listen to the song and tell me him shaking doesn't fucking fit)

Rage? Smiler swings his axe according to the beat. Also his voice is louder because he's fucking pissed lol

Incident has laughter as part of the chord progression in certain bits of the song because it's kinda creepy to me lol and also glitching in certain parts of the song

Redemption is already perfect on it's own, no need for aesthetic other than expressive sprites

Pteromerhanophobia? There's raining as chord progression and heavier rain plus oil dripping in the ending piece where Stairway is fucking flying. Get it? Oil dripping? Because. Because it. It makes you fly. In the rain. Like oil on water. Get it? Am i funny?

Paedophobia has children's laughter in certain parts of the song because. It's named after the fear of children. Also probably JJ being crazy obsessed with "keeping kids safe from the evil" hearing their laughter in his head

Technophobia has static and glitching aaaand the same laughter from Incident in the track! Nostalgic! Speaking of nostalgia...

Glossophobia has people clapping and cheering in the part where the whole place becomes static and the two are silhouettes. Also faint giggles from his deceased beloved, the same girl he lost to his own selfish acts. Her giggles are heard in the very end of the song, plus him faintly sobbing because heehoo funi sad stuff

Dystichiphobia has body horror sounds as part of the song whenever Derpy transforms! Bones breaking and twisting! Skin ripping and tearing! Flesh shifting and shuffling! Gross noises like clicks and growls and gurgles and choking! Lovely lovely sunshine and happy! :D

Thanatophobia has Trollge Gf's giggles and chuckles throughout the song, to accompany Legion's y'know? (yes some of them are very flirty i am a simple creature leave me alone hhhh)

My Dear Love has acoustic guitar incorporated to go along with the kick and all, to further make it heart warming

ATHAZAGORAPHOBIA... Legion laughs, giggles and chuckles galore because Bf is a fucking loser lmfao amirite fellas? Also people laughing and whispering in those attack segments of the song, because heehee spooky dooky. The laughter and whispering grows louder the closer you are to losing btw soooo if you hear that when you're NOT in a attack segment... Make your prayers that you can recover fast enough

Now the secret songs! The only secret songs in the whole mod!

Your Mom is already perfect on it's own too, no need for aesthetic and shit. Trallface is love Trallface is life, he's already a perfect boy

Daisuki has the same acoustic guitar incorporated in the song too! Along with soft wind and birds chirping and also there's leaves falling down every now and then throughout the song. Beautiful stuff, ain't it?

Thank you for wasting your time reading my ramblings about the funny deppressed trollge, crazy trollge, CLOWN, and other mentally ill trollge people! plus big tall hot trollge woman that should wrap her legs around me-

I've been thinking about a like. Remix of The Blueballs Incident that's purely aesthetic. TBBI in the mind for some fuckin' reason

#the blueballs incident #the trollge files

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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

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Can you do one where Harry take his children and YN to one of his concert and their just dancing around singing along on stage with Harry.

i love this concept so much!! i kinda of wanna make it sad though soooo it’s gonna be harry’s final show :/ hope you enjoy;

oli - 29, felix - 27, belle - 24

The concert had been amazing, but unfortunately it was coming to its’ end now.

The final show.

That’s what Harry had decided to call it; a clever play on words with reference to his first ever solo single. The last 50 years had been a rollercoaster for Harry, from growing up just a kid in Cheshire, to going on the X Factor and winning the hearts of millions and from being in the most successful band of the decade to going solo and still being absolutely beloved. Times had changed, though. Harry had changed. He had a beautiful family of 3 now, excluding his wonderful wife. His children were his universe, no question about it, but they were getting older now - Harry was getting older. He was 50 this year and with that in mind he’d decided to retire. Retiring had involved a long conversation with you, along with a bottle of red wine, about whether it was the right decision or not. But it was - is.

You had suggested he put on one final, massive show, to celebrate his life and his achievements along with all that the fans have too. Tickets were open internationally and it was being streamed on various TV outlets for those who couldn’t attend. The tickets sold within 47 seconds. 47 seconds. It was being held in the Olympic Stadium in London, because it was Harry’s home and it held the most number of people he could genuinely allow.

The concert had started with ‘Fine Line’ songs, which merged into HS1 songs with a few One Direction songs as well. The entire set list had been composed by the fans with various polls on social media, with the concert supposedly lasting 2 hours (although with support artists and a few extra surprises it was more likely going to be 3!)

It had been beautiful so far. Magical. Unforgettable.

Every chance he got, without making it grossly obvious, he looked at you. He'd told you to stick your thumbs up at him every time he caught your eye, so he knew that you were okay - and every time, you did.

The concert was coming to an end now, which everyone was dreading. How could +30 years feel like it'd only been thirty minutes? You were devastated, so you could only imagine what his fans were thinking.

"Hey!"

The end Kiwi, for the second time, strummed throughout the arena and you knew it was time for the final song. His final song.

"Mum, is this the end?" Belle asked you, from where she was standing next to you. You had been dancing together all night and gotten progressively more tired. Your feet hurt. Your throats burned. Yet, as always, it was so worth it.

"Yes, Belles, it is." You tell her, and she pouted sadly. "Dad won't want to see you sad love, okay? He can still sing to you before bed?" You teased her, reminding her of a time when Harry would do such a thing, not wanting her to be all sad. It was supposed to be a celebration, but even you could admit that is was pretty hard-hitting.

"Really mum?" She asked.

You booped her nose annoyingly, before answering. "Every night if you want him to."

The lights changed from their green tone, thanks to Kiwi, back to a bright, white light. It beamed on Harry, making him look even more like the angel that he is. He dragged his microphone back to the centre stage and took a deep breath for beginning a speech he'd told you he'd prepared.

"So this is it, my friends." He laughed sadly into the microphone. He brushed his hair back and took out his in-ears to hear the audience. They were all awwing and crying, but what else did you expect? Their favourite artist was retiring - who wouldn't be crying a river?

"I, um. I'd like to take a bit of time to thank certain people." He coughed, something he always did after performing Kiwi due to his asthma. You thought it was lovely that he'd planned a speech to thank his management and crew. They did so much work backstage and you definitely didn't think they got enough credit for their hard work.

"Okay. I've made a little list..." Harry pulled out a tiny bit of crumpled paper from his pocket. "Just in case I forget anyone." He joked to himself, but made everyone laugh anyways. "So I guess first off, I should start with you lovely people." He pointed around the whole stadium, showing he was talking about the fans. "What you have done for me is indescribable. I think to myself, everyday, am I worthy of even being here—"

"Yes!" An army of agreement echoed around the arena, making Harry stop, blush and smile to himself.

"Well thank you! Um. You have been the best fans ever, and I know you will continue to be. I know you don't owe me anything, but all I ask you to keep loving yourselves and treating people with kindness, because I know I can count on you lot to do that, for me." He sniffled at the end, making you bite your lip to prevent the tears from falling for you. He looked so vulnerable right now, but you knew he'd be feeling on top of the world.

"Jheez." He sniffles again. "That's one thank you down and i'm already crying." He looked to his band to share the joke with.

“Dad’s such a wuss.” Oli laughed, holding his arm around Beas waist, making the people around you chuckle in agreement.

“Shut up you - Mr-tears-in-your-eyes!” You pointed out, laughing as he flipped you the bird - which then got him a hit off his grandma Anne.

All of Harrys family and friends were here, in a special cornered off section. It was such a thoughtful thing for Harry to do. All his family, and a fair few of yours, were sat down along with Harrys closest friends. Everyone was sharing laughs and drinks, whilst using every inch of space to dance along to your husbands boastful music.

"Secondly, my touring family. From Jeff and Ben, to Sarah's Kitchen, Adam, Mitch, Sarah, Charlotte and Nyoh, not forgetting everyone backstage and behind the lights, music and cameras. You've all been the greatest. Everything you do is second to none. You're all talented, warm-hearted, people whom I will carry in my heart forever. Thank you." You noticed members of the crew and band starting to tear up now.

"Moving on to my boys. We've been through it all, lads, and I couldn't have asked for four better brothers than you all. Louis. Liam. Niall. Zayn. Thank you." Everyone cheered ten times louder, maybe because this was as close to a One Direction reunion as the fans were ever going to get, but definitely because Harry had mentioned Zayn. You saw a girl faint at the mere mention of all the boys in the same sentence. The boys lifted up their beers to Harry, stood close by to where you were standing.

"I guess I should say thank you to the women who made all this possible. Mum. Gem. Thank you for signing me up all those years ago. Thank you for believing in me. You've made me the - crap, sorry! - the man I am now and I love you both." Harry prayed to them both, whilst bowing, and swiftly wiped away the tears afterwards. Anne and Gemma, on the other hand, were proudly crying.

"Ol, Fix and Belles. You rascals make me get out of bed every morning and give me more of a purpose in life. You four give me so much joy and happiness. I love you all, even if you do drive me up the wall on an early Saturday morning! Thank you, my loves." You stood close to all your children, giving them the support they needed in this moment. Belle was crying against your chest, the ever-so-emotional woman she was. Felix was stood up, with Heather, with his drink raised to his dad. Oli was to your side, trying to remain cool and stoic, but you still caught the tears that ran down his face.

"Now." The audience calmed down again after awing over your babies. Harry cleared his throat before beginning again. "This evening keeps on reminding me of a very special person in my life. Someone who is my everything and that's my beautiful wife, Y/N." His words make your breath hitch in your throat. You never expected him to say anything about you. I mean, what had you done?

"Mum." Belle called out to you, in affirmation that this was real.

"She's more than just a wife. She's a lover. She's my muse. She's my best-fucking-friend, apologises for swearing but sue me. I was hesitant to let go of all this, at first. What would I do with myself now? You know? People tell me i'm 'happiest on stage', and for a time that was true. Until I met Y/N. She's made me realise that family makes me the happiest. She makes me the happiest." He jumped down off stage, taking the microphone with him. He ran his hands along the fans in the front row, but had no intention of stopping until he met you.

You felt Belle leaving your side, but you were too captivated by Harry to fully understand what was happening.

"So what am I going to do now, you ask? Well..." Harry cheekily smiled at you. "I'm going to make her the happiest woman alive, just as she makes me the happiest man." You began to cry again and the chorus of thousands of fans clapping and screaming surrounds you, only to all stop when his lips meet yours. He tasted like a combination of salty sweat and mint, but he was home. After a minute of crying, kissing and 'i love yous' , Harry ran back to the stage before Jeff could shoot him.

"Thank you all. All my love." He said whilst adjusting his microphone. "Please sing along if you know the words." He asked, full well knowing every single person will be screaming out the lyrics to him.

"Just stop you're crying it's the sign of the times. Welcome to the final show. Hope you're wearing your best clothes."

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dourpeep · 3 years ago

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Something that I’ve been meaning to write inspired by @ellitx (contains 18+ works) as well as these songs: The Gentle Zephyr, Soldier, Poet, King and Found/Tonight.

It took a bit longer than intended because I had to take a moment to stop because I started sobbing partway through editing (':

They all Fall

Summary: Swirling around the room, you spend one last night with the one you love.

Contains: Himmel x bard!Reader, unnamed bard (Himmel), fluff, ANGST, major character death, last moments described

All around the room of the packed tavern, you see the faces of your friends. They crowd around tables, pulling chairs from others and loudly regaling tales long past and of what they want to do once tomorrow has passed. It makes the unease melt away, slipping down between the floorboards.

After all, not a single sour look passes your gaze, not when there’s so much to be excited for.

Behind you, someone speaks out loud and clear—Himmel, in his plain cape and twin braids, shoulder occupied by the very little ‘elf’ that drove him to be where he stands today. The determination he exudes only is made tenfold by his charm.

“Tonight, we celebrate! So raise your glass and drink each drop like it’s your last!”

They all cheer with bright eyes and smiles and so do you, raising your glass high and tapping it to the rim of another’s.

Never did you think that you’d be here tonight, surrounded by so many who share those views. That the seemingly far reaches of freedom would become so so close after years of only knowing stormy grey skies with razor whipped winds so violent. No longer will the people of Mond cast their eyes to gloom with little hope left—not when your numbers are strong and you’re sure that you will come out victorious.

It is the people, you think, who will finally be free.

But for now, you surrender to the itchiness of your fingers to pluck at strings.

Picking your drink from where it sits, you stand atop a table with the help of a man with fiery hair and call out.

“My friends, a toast, if I may?”

The tavern falls quiet.

“To all of us, in our merriment, and the surety of the fall of the tyrant god-king, Decarabian—” Raucous cheers break out. In the midst, you add, “And to the prosperity of our land, our home, and our country—Mondstadt!”

Your cheeks hurt with how wide your smile is, heart nearly bursting with joy and it’s clear you aren’t alone.

So, as a bard does, you bend and pick up your beloved instrument in lieu of your drink.

“For tonight, we are together, and tonight will be the last we sit shackled by his reign!”

Though the strum of your instrument melds with the voices of your people, it’s loud and clear. The perfect song—one you’d recently completed with the help of your bard friend.

A clap. Another, until you have a steady beat to go along with the nodding of your head in time.

“There will come a soldier, who carries a might sword!”

Laughter breaks out as you flex one arm, nodding back at the red-haired knight sitting below.

As the patrons start stomping their feet, the steady pounding lively and their hands clapping to urge you on as you sweep across the room, a big smile beams across your face.

Fingers pluck deft at strings and shift to change chords.

“He will tear your city down—oh lei, oh lai, oh lord!”

Voice ringing out to join the masses, you shift and hop off of your impromptu stage to mingle as you perform.

Just a few tables away, Himmel watches you in awe.

You’re so bright—bright as the sun that Barbatos has chimed to him about, brighter than the millions of stars just beyond the dense tempest of clouds. Though all eyes are on you in the spotlight, he hopes that you see the way he watches you.

Longing, soft.

It didn’t occur to him that you’d rush over between verses to take his hand—

One of your hands wraps around his and tugs him out of his seat in a rush, the life that he sees in your joy contagious.

Your instrument is left abandoned at his seat in lieu of lacing both of your hands together. It isn’t needed when the heart of the tavern buzzes with triumph.

Together, you sing, the words ingrained in your minds and hearts.

“There will come a poet—!”

You wink and Himmel’s bell-like laugh rings out as the two of you dance across the uneven wooden floors.

You trip and stumble a few times, neither of you well versed in dancing, but with how alive you feel holding his warm, warm hands—you don’t find yourself caring.

Just like that, you’re all that his stormy eyes can see. The thrill he feels in his chest being by your side is unmatched and he knows that when the time is right, he’ll tell it to you. Especially with the budding feeling that they’re returned.

But for now, he’s satisfied with the way you gaily spin and prance between the masses of tables and chairs.

When the song finally ends and you’re left breathless, grinning at your companion, he wraps his arms around you tight. Like a fresh gust of wind, he sweeps you up in his arms and you gasp in surprise.

Himmel is grinning wider than you’ve ever seen and the twinkle in his eyes makes you wonder if the sea looks as beautiful as they do now. Lips parted and flushed; he says your name.

Your eyes meet. He leans in closer—

Then your feet meet the floor as Amos and the others gather round and request another song. A duet, perhaps. You miss the way that he reaches out to you, too absorbed in the flurry of moments.

If only you weren’t already out of breath from dancing, the feeling fluttering in your chest would ensure it.

You watch as he picks up his lyre, the way that he shines makes your heart flutter in your chest.

If only these moments could last a lifetime.

And then, the day arrives.

When it happened, you were elsewhere, equal parts fighting and protecting. So absorbed in your role of ensuring the safety of your comrades in arms. The irony doesn’t escape you. It’s Barbatos who finds you first when the dust settles and all is quiet, small form zipping around with eyes wide and pleading.

He guides you past the rubble, past Amos where she lay unconscious—her hair spread out like wings and you try to tug away to go to her but your insistent companion chimes and tugs at your hair, your clothing.

Until you’re met with the sight of the knight carefully holding a figure in his arms. From here, you already can see their face. Hisface—

In his tattered cape and twin braids undone.

Himmel.

In this moment, it feels as if you were the one pierced instead.

The cry that tears from your lungs rival that of the chaos of battle, and you collapse, unable to come closer. But little Barbatos presses to your cheek. So you do.

Your fingertips dig into the debris surrounding you as you rise and weakly trudge closer.

He’s barely breathing. Wheezing.

Throat raw, you mumble his name and hold his head up, pressing your forehead to his. In your other hand, you hold both of his and squeeze. His eyes are barely open but they still see you. See the way that the sun shines above.

“It’s alright, we’ll get you patched and it’ll be fine—Just stay awake and I’ll fetch someone so don’t worry I promise I’ll—"

Himmel shakes his head and whispers your name so warm, so tender, so loving, so—

“We did it.”

Through the pain, he smiles. He smiles but you can tell by the way he barely grasps your hand back that he’s slipping.

Another mumble of your name. His head tilts up and his lips meet yours soft.

His last breath, he grants to you.

A last confession, to finally free those very emotions that have been shyly hidden.

It’s not fair.

It’s long since his heart has stopped that you let yourself finally break.

Those very same hands, so warm and fingertips calloused, are now cold. Colder than the sharp, unforgiving winds that have since died out, colder than the chill you feel from the fresh gentle breeze brushing over your skin. You rub at them in attempt to bring back their life.

Desperately, your hand cups a cheek decorated with long dried tears as you sob out the name of the one that gave up everything for a taste of freedom.

With no room to think of the ifs, your cries reach the heavens. To be robbed of the very thing you fought for, to miss it just by a mere few moments and the zip of arrows. It leaves a bittersweet taste that lingers for years to come.

Above you, the sky is blue and a bird soars through the cloudless sea.

#Himmel #Unnamed Bard #Himmel x Reader #Unnamed Bard x Reader #Genshin Impact Himmel #Genshin Impact Unnamed Bard #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact fics #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact angst #angst #fics #I could've posted this over like uhh an hour ago if not for me weeping and also trying to decide on a better title so here we are now #I might change the title later #we shall see if I come up with something better aha

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multiplefandomsblog · 4 years ago

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“6 years old until now.”

request; Helloooo! I have noticed that your requests are open so if it isn’t too much to ask could I please request gundham x reader where they are kids and are like play dating and have a fake wedding and after that have a time skip for when they are adults and actually have a wedding?

warnings; kisses, gn!reader, reader has neutral pronouns and everything, reader takes gundham’s last name, fluffffffffffffy, and maybe angst?? kinda, not really, ARGHHHG THE TITLE IS BADDDD BUT I COULDN’T THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE HEUGRHRGAHGF

word count; 1.6k words holy crap

“Gundham! Hey, c’mere I have something for you!” You beckoned Gundham toward you, hiding a ring pop behind your back. “Fuahaha! What did you need from the prince of darkness?!” Gundham deepened his voice dramatically, zooming over to you with a flamboyant smile on his face and birds standing on his shoulders. “Gundham those birds look so cool!” You beamed, carefully walking up to him, as to not scare them. “I know right!? A pack of animals were following me today!” He stepped to the side, revealing the line of rabbits and squirrels behind him.

Your jaw dropped, “Gundham could be the ultimate animal talker-to!” Gundham guffawed cockily, “Fuahaha indeed! Anyway, what did you wanna give me?” Gundham said curiously, cocking his head to peak behind your back. You nervously fiddled with the hem of your shirt, “Well, I got this for Halloween but I wanted to give it to you instead. Um, so we could get married!” Your nervousness left as quick as it came, smiling brightly as you presented him the candy ring. “Gundham Tanaka,” You got on one knee dramatically, “Will you marry me?”

Gundham’s eyes widened before glossing over with tears, “S-s/o…” He wailed, moving his hands up to wipe his tears. “G-gundham, don’t cry! I’m sorry, you don’t have to marry me!” You panicked, moving closer to hug him tightly. “I-I’m not crying! The prince of darkness doesn’t cry!” He denied, taking the candy from your hand around his waist. “I-I accept.” He sniffled, feeling incredibly happy you proposed to him even though you two were too young to get a marriage license.

“R-really!?” You beamed, pulling away to see his red tear-stained face. He nodded eagerly, opening the ring pop package and slipping it on his ring finger with a wobbly smile. You brightened up with an idea, tapping Gundham’s shoulder frantically, “I have an idea!” Gundham looked at you with confusion, “What?” Your smile wide, “Your animals can marry us!” You pointed at the crowd of small animals behind him, looking at them with excitement.

“S/o, that’s a brilliant idea!” He cheered, holding your hand and dragging you in front of the animals. One of the cats had sat in the middle of you two, looking up at you expectantly. “Oh, uh, I think it goes… Do you, Gundham Tanaka, take me to be my- Er, your loving spouse?” You stumbled, unsure if that’s actually how it went. Gundham stared into your eyes with a blinding smile, “I do!” Gundham examined the ring on his finger happily, “Do you, S/o L/n, take me to be your loving spouse?”

He crossed his hand over his chest, “I do, I do!” You giggled, leaning in quickly to kiss him on the cheek. The cat rolled its eyes at your eagerness, leaving the two of you be. Gundham flushed at your sudden peck, covering his face with his hand to hide his red face, “S/ooooooo..!”

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

Well then, today was the day.

You nervously looked around the room, your breathing shallow from the many eyes on you. You gulped down your anxiousness, focusing your attention back on your beloved. As you looked over his dazzling figure, Gundham scanned yours, face flushing at how beautiful you looked. You winked at him, mouthing a, “You look so hot.” at him and giggling as you saw his already flushed face becoming redder with each second.

The priest cleared his throat, eyes gazing over the words of his book before starting,"Gundham and S/o, today you are surrounded by your friends and family, all of whom have gathered here to witness your marriage and to share in the joy of this special occasion.” You scanned the room for your friends, smiling as they gave you a thumbs up and a tear-filled grin.

“Today, as you join yourselves in marriage, there is a vast and unknown future stretching out before you.” You looked back at Gundham, seeing your whole future with no one but him. You knew, and had no doubt, that you wanted to spend the rest of your future with him.

“The possibilities and potentials of your married life are great; and now falls upon your shoulders, the task of choosing your values and making real your dreams.” Gundham thought of all those old memories with you, reminiscing in them. Though he misses the old memories, he’s already incredibly excited for the new ones he will make with you. The potential and possibilities as the priest said.

“Through your commitment to each other, may you grow and nurture a love that makes both of you better people. A love that continues to give you great joy, and also a passion for living that provides you with energy and patience to face the responsibilities of life.” You looked deep into Gundham’s eyes, reaching out to hold both his hands. When you look at him, you are reminded of your childhood. Your entire life, he has experienced with you. This man had stuck with you thick and thin, and how lucky you are; You get to be married to him.

"May you always need one another; not to fill an emptiness, but to help each other know your fullness.” As the priest spoke his readings, all Gundham could think of was you. It was like he had described you to him perfectly; You had always made his heart feel full and loved, and he hopes he did the same for you too. “May you succeed in all important ways with each other, and not fail in the little graces. May you have happiness, and may you find it in making one another happy. May you have love, and always find love, in the pursuit of loving one another."

A few tears trickled down your face, Gundham’s eyes glossing over as well. “Gundham,” You stopped, choking out a sob. Gundham chuckled at your inability to speak, tears falling from the feeling of how much he loved you, even when you were crying. “To me, you are still the same little boy that I had proposed to—what felt like—millions of years ago.” You reached up to gingerly brush his tears away with your thumbs, your heart swelling as he leaned into your touch.

“As you stand here in front of me, with those same tears staining your beautiful face, it makes me realize that I had wanted to marry you ever since I was 6 years old. 6!” Gundham laughed at your exclamation, “I already knew I was going to marry you, because I did and still truly believe that you are my soulmate.” You ended, face and nose red from the overwhelming feelings you had.

The priest looked over to Gundham with an encouraging smile, “S/o, when you proposed to me with that... dreaded candy ring, I remember being extremely happy from it. Even though it was nothing but candy, it had meant so much to me because it symbolized so much.” You grinned nostalgically at the memory of the ring pop, squeezing his hands.

“You are, the perfect ruler for me. I love you so much, i can’t begin to even put it in words. I owe everything to you, for you have done so much to make me happy. You’ve always stayed with me no matter what, from 6 years old until now, and I am forever grateful for that. I love you so, so much S/o.” His voice cracked at the end from the emotion hitting him.

You pouted, lips trembling from his heart-felt vows, you just wanted to kiss him already damn it. Letting out a shaky breath, you looked at the priest expectantly. The priest took a breath, "Now then, what you’ve all been waiting for,” A few laughs echoed in the large banquet, some cheers scattered in the crowd.

“Do you S/o L/n, accept Gundham Tanaka as your lifemate and one true love, promising to share in all that life offers and suffers, to be there for him in times of plenty, as well as times of need, to soothe him in times of pain, and to support him in all endeavours, big and small, for as long as you both shall live?" The priest faced you, “I do.” You said without any trace of uncertainty, you have never been so sure of something in your life.

You took Gundham’s ring from the pillow presented to you, grabbing his hand gently as you slipped his ring on, smiling up at him. He was glad to see a ring on his finger that wasn’t made of candy, but he would’ve gotten married to you with anything

"Now, do you Gundham Tanaka, accept S/o L/n as your lifemate and one true love, promising to share in all that life offers and suffers, to be there for them in times of plenty, as well as times of need, to soothe (him/her) in times of pain, and to support them in all endeavours, big and small, for as long as you both shall live?" The priest faced Gundham, “I do.” Without missing a beat, Gundham responded with no hesitance, grabbing your ring of the pillow and slipping it onto your ring finger carefully, bringing up your hand and kissing it.

With trembling lips, your lips curved up into an uncontrollable smile whilst you looked at how pretty the ring looked on your finger. Gundham eyed your pretty lips as an excited smile of his own found itself on his face as he waited for the priest’s next words.

"Family and Friends,", the priest clapped his hands together, "I present to you, for the first-er Second time, Gundham and S/o Tanaka!” Everybody laughed and cheered at the priest’s slip up, whooping the two of you as Gundham cupped your face and brought you into a gentle, emotional kiss. You laughed and cried into the kiss, eagerly kissing him back with as much emotion he gave you.

note; oh god its almost 6am- um, i hope you all enjoyed this long ass fic because dear lord, it took so long to finish qwq well anyhow, i hope its to your liking!

#mod chia #gundham tanaka #gundham x reader #gundham tanaka headcanons #gundham tanaka fluff #gundham tanaka angst #super danganronpa 2 #super danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa #danganronpa oneshot #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa fluff #i want to die its so late #goodbye despair #gundham imagine #sdr2 gundham #i am so tired

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gilligangoodfellow · 4 years ago

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Prompt: Date Night

Relationships: Calanthe / Eist

Rating: T Content

Warnings: None

Summary: Eist takes Calanthe to witness one of his favourite sights on Skellige. There, they witness a gentle moment that neither is expecting.  

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

—-

The woman stands on the edge of the forest, a cloak around her form to protect from the Skelligan chill. A full moon reflects off the world around her, bringing light to the moisture in the grass, and shapes and shadows to the trees.

She reaches up, running a hand through her hair, worn loose and long. Messy over her shoulders.

“You should not be out here alone.”

“Oh.” Calanthe turns, a hand rested on her hip. “I believe a queen should be where she damn well chooses to stand.”

“Agreed.” The newcomer bows, before indicating the woods behind her with a nod. "But there is danger in these trees."

The wind chooses that moment to rustle the leaves, creaking the branches, and Calanthe wonders if the Skelligan Jarl speaking to her is a secret mage.

"Well.” She smiles. “My options were to risk the trees, or punch that pompous Nilfgardian advisor in the mouth. One leads to war."

Eist laughs.

"Gaunter can have that effect, I am told. But he has that Usurper’s ear." He winks. "And some say he has more than that."

She scoffs, faking shock while playfully swatting at him with her hand.

"So, Jarl Tuirseach, what makes your trees dangerous?"

“An ancient Leshen prowls them." Eist folds his hands behind his back. "One old enough to have met Freya herself.”

“Well, your Leshen keeps fine company.”

“And a finer collection.” Eist says, standing beside her. “No less than three great Witchers have ventured into these woods, to never be heard from again.”

“Then perhaps we should find mistletoe and beggartick blossom. Make oil for our blades.”

“We mean to hunt the beast ourselves, My Queen?”

“Why to avenge the mighty witchers.” Calanthe opens out her hands, as if her statement is obvious. “And besides, Birna Bran’s baby shower back there has less life in it than a morgue. I’d sooner fight a legendary leshen.” She tilts her head to the side. “Or are you afraid?”

“Something tells me that with you by my side, I should fear nothing.” He raises an eyebrow.

A silence falls between them that is comfortable, each already enjoying the other person’s company on this, their first meeting outside of formalities.

“I can not promise you a Leshen, my Queen, but the moon is full. This is a good night to see the children, if you will let me guide you.”

“The children?”

“Come.”

“Is it safe?”

“The shieldmaidens will hear if we shout.” He offers his hand and, with her curiosity getting the better of her, Calanthe takes it, letting Eist lead her into the woods. They climb a hill to the top, and there he pats a rock, encouraging her to sit and look out.

An ancient tree long ago fell into the spot below them, to be claimed by climbing plants and fungus. And sitting cross legged on the trunk are two young children making flower chains with daisies.

Only they are not children.

“Lutin?” Calanthe whispers.

“Godlings.” Eist smiles. “Harmless servants of nature. A small tribe lives by the lake. The families leave them toys and clothes no longer needed by a last born, and the Godlings in turn keep the farm animals in good health."

Calanthe nods.

“I love to watch them play.” Eist's voice is quiet. “To just sit and witness something be so innocent and unburdened by the troubles of this world. They are childlike from birth until death. And it is said they are born from the laughter of their parents.”

Calanthe smiles as Eist sits on the rock beside her.

“My little Pavetta loves making flower chains like that. They decorate our rooms back at Cintra.”

“Crach, my sister’s son, would bring frogs home. One got loose in the kitchens once, and it...what?”

The forest…shakes. Trees leaning forward as if to bow, birds landing on branches and ground.

The Godlings stand.

Eist pulls Calanthe with him as they hide behind the rock, before carefully peering over.

And Calanthe’s mouth falls open.

A...man? Beast? Dressed in leather wraps, taller than a troll, with antlers like a deer.

Far from being afraid of the newcomer, the Godlings seem excited, dancing on the tree and holding out their chains of flowers ready for inspection.

The Leshen bows, and they dangle the flowers from its antlers. Then it opens its arms, lifting one Godling and then the other onto its broad shoulders. There they sit, clutching the antlers and laughing while it carries them across the clearing.

“Surely…”

“Hush.” Eist puts a finger to his lips, but is also smiling as he watches Calanthe watch the Leshen play with the Godlings, marching back and forward while they clap and cheer.

“Even monsters need joy sometimes.” Calanthe smiles, and together they watch as the Leshen walks into the forest with the beloved Godlings on its shoulders.

“To escape the burdens of the world.”

Calanthe nods, face calm.

“We should head back.” Eist whispers. “Bran will be wondering where we are.”

“Oh? And end our date so soon.”

Eist widens his eyes. “A date?”

“You will call it that, when asked.” Calanthe says, raising a stern finger. “For it was a spectacular one.”

Eist laughs as they stand, him offering his arm for Calanthe to wrap her own around as they turn back towards the party.

“And you said you could not promise me a Leshen.” She says. “You clearly have a unique ability to sell yourself short, Jarl Tuirseach. Odd for a Skelligan.”

“Or perhaps I wanted the creature’s appearance to be a true surprise.” Eist looks at her, and then behind them into the forest, a final check for danger. But there is none.

“A surprise.” Calanthe agrees, their eyes meeting as he looks back round.

They prepare at the camp.

Calanthe hands him his sword.

Eist checks the straps on her armour.

Hand in hand they walk together.

“What are you thinking of?” Calanthe asks.

“How they will sing great songs of the Battle of Marnadal. Of the victory of Queen Calanthe over Nilfgaard.” He looks at her. “And you, my Queen?”

“I was remembering those Godlings on our first date. Watching them with the Leshen, all just playing and unburdened by the world.”

He nods. “We should go back there again.”

“When this is all over. And bring Ciri.”

“Yes.”

Hand in hand they walk.

“Do you think that Leshen is still there, Calanthe?”

“I hope so. Whatever happens to the world around it, let that clearing remain unburdened.”

Hand in hand they remember their first time together, as they prepare to ride towards what will be their last.

Burdened by the world.

#fanfiction #the witcher #queen calanthe #eist tuirseach #wrsb

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a-la-la-llama · 5 years ago

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Officially a twenty-one-year-old today, Damian was being dragged out to a run-down bar by the many annoyances that he was forced to call brothers. “Baby bird’s finally able to have a drink legally! It feels like yesterday when you threatened to stab me.”, he clapped his hand on Damian’s shoulder who immediately shrugged it off, with a far off look Dick sighed. “He did threaten to stab you yesterday.”, Tim corrected. “Tt, not my fault he decided a happy birthday was needed at midnight.” Damian crossed his arms as the group walked in. Jason had frequented the place enough to know the bartenders, who were now giving him crap because of the last time he came and started a bar fight. “Come on Larry, it’s Demon Spawn’s birthday! You can’t kick me out yet?”, trying to persuade the bartender into serving him, Jason threw an arm over Damian’s shoulder. “The infamous Demon Spawn is old enough to join the big boys, eh?”, the bartender asked, cleaning a mug before filling it up with a yellow substance. “Would you believe me if I said I was brought here against my will?”, staring at Larry with a deadpan expression he was handed a cup of beer. “First one’s on the house. It’s gonna taste bad but you’ll get used to it after a couple of rounds.” As if Damian hadn’t tasted alcohol before, it wasn’t hard to go to the middle of Jason’s stashes and fill them with water. After the second bottle of vodka, he was usually too drunk to even notice the difference. Taking a gulp, Damian could hear the cheers from Dick as Tim poured a suspicious amount of whiskey into his coffee mug.

Damian couldn’t be more content that he could now drink, or he would have already been annoyed at how loud and noisy the place was. Or the fact that a group of men were desperately trying to convince a group of girls to join them on the dance floor that was severely crowded and failing pitifully by not taking the hints. Don’t even get him started on those who were on the edge of blacking out and were making a fool of themselves on the dance floor. Tim and Dick had been the first to catch a buzz, one being a light-weight and the other having terrible health choices. Jason had grabbed the two on a mission to see what crazy plans he could pull while they were under the influence. This had not been Damian’s plan, he was spending his birthday sitting alone on a barstool when he would much rather be at home with his beloved fur family members than the human ones. But, he soon found himself on his own personal mission.

She had caught his eye first. He was scanning the crowd trying to locate his brothers in an attempt to convince them it was time to head home. Damian had to do a double-take when he saw her midnight sky hair in the faint yellow glow of the bar. She sat directly across the room from him on a tall table with her head down in what seemed to be a book. He didn’t register how long he had been staring but was pulled back to reality when a drink was placed on the counter. “She’s your age. Real sweet and has been coming here alone for the past two months.” It was none other than Larry the bartender that gave him an all-knowing smile that eerily reminded him of Alfred’s. “Tt. This is going to Drake’s tab, correct?”, jeering his head to the drink. Larry shook his head at the topic change, “I’m just saying you should go talk to her, that’s all.” Damian grumbled, he was an Al Ghul and Wayne, he would never succumb to the embarrassment of pinning after a girl in a bar like some others did around him. Then again, she didn’t have to know that, did she? He doubted he would ever see her again, what harm could come out of it? Damian, no last name, mused about the next following steps he would take.

She felt the presence of a pair of eyes on her. Keeping her head low she hoped the lack of interest in the setting was enough to throw them off. It was a common occurrence actually, what did she expect to happen coming into a place like this by herself. But this felt different somehow, the aura coming with the gaze made her distracted. She fiddled with Plagg’s ring, located on her right hand’s pointing finger, spinning it around. She adorned the leather as it was much more suited for the dark city of Gotham than her spots. The night vision was an added bonus that came in handy when traveling around at night and the sassy talks she had with Plagg. She had felt the eyes travel off her for a moment before they were right back on her. Now she couldn’t even focus enough to remember what she was just about to write. Frustrated, she tapped her foot impatiently on the chairs stepping stool. That she hated to admit she used to get up and her foot barely reached it. To her wit's end, she snapped her head up only to meet the most beautiful emerald green eyes she had ever seen. With newfound inspiration, she drowned herself back into her book.

Damian hadn’t expected her to snap her head up so quickly as she did, nor did he expect her to stare right at him when she did. Though, he couldn’t have been happier that she did, especially taking into account the lovely pair of doe eyes he was able to stare into at the moment. Her eyes were similar to a clear sky’s baby blue color but not as dull. It was almost like they had a certain electrifying touch to them because they seemed to glow in the dimly lit area. As if on the verge of catching fire at any given moment, holding a world of secrets and passions that he desperately wanted to uncover. Her eyes left him as quickly as they came leaving a void in his vision. The strange girl that captivated all of his attention in a blink of an eye without even knowing it, dove her head back down. He gave himself a sly grin.

Step One: Catch her Eye. Check

“I’d like-“, before he can even turn and ask Larry he already pulled two drinks out of nowhere and they were resting on the counter. “Good luck! Don’t make me regret this.”, lectured Larry. Mustering up his courage, Damian took a drink in each hand before making his way across the bar. Thankfully, his brothers were nowhere in sight and couldn’t possibly ruin this for him, yet that is. He set the drinks down with two little clinks, drawing her attention from her book to him. “Mind if I sit here with you?”, implored Damian gesturing to the open stool next to her. “I assume you brought me offerings to bargain with?” Damian almost short-circuited with how cute her voice sounded. “O-of course!” He mentally cursed himself at the small stutter but covered it up by handing her a drink. Damian noticed how one cup held a pink bendy straw and gave that one to her. She didn’t take a drink until she got a nod from Larry behind the bar. It wasn’t the first and certainly wouldn’t be the last time someone offered a drugged drink, but Larry always kept an eye out for her and said it was safe. “I’m Damian.” She nodded, “Marinette.” He felt a smile creep onto his face,” Nice to meet you, Marinette.” The name gracefully rolled off his tongue.

Step Two: Catch her name. Check.

Once out of his stupor he realized she had once again returned into the book. Peering over her shoulder (out of curiosity not to get closer to her, never!) , he noticed it was filled with intricate drawings with French notes written in the margins. “Isn’t that French?”, he questioned, “Are you not from Gotham.” She scribbled something down before looking up and answering. “It is and nope! I lived in Paris all my life until four years ago.” He pondered for a moment, “Any reason why?” The girl squirmed in her seat, ‘Dammit Damian! Now you made her uncomfortable, she hates you!’ She twirled her ring a couple of times, “I needed a change of pace and couldn't take living there anymore. So I packed up and left.” Damian could tell it wasn’t something she shared with most people and wondered what made him different. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he relished in the fact he was able to catch some of her secrets though it wasn’t what he was after at the moment. Taking another glance at what she was doing he realized that she was drawing in a sketchbook that seemed to be filled with countless articles of clothing. “Is this a hobby of yours?”, he asked pointing at a model sketch. She looked up at him and seemed to beam, “I’m an up and coming fashion designer! I come here every day to find inspiration! You won’t believe how many different styles you can see here!” Damian had found what caused the spark in her eyes and listened to her ramble about it happily.

Step Three: Start a Flame. Check!

She excitedly explained all the little details in her most recent designs and provided reasons and meanings behind each one. He hadn’t meant to read the margin notes of the dark green peacoat that was drawn with intricate gold embroidery. “Is this one from me?”, he questioned with a sly grin and side glance. Damian noticed how the color of her cheeks and the tips of her ears, that were now exposed as she tucked her hair behind them, turned a dark pink compared to her pale skin. The contrast helped him realize how her face was dotted with freckles that resembled constellations in his mind. A smile crept upon his face again, “I had already drawn the jacket but couldn’t decide on a color scheme. When I looked at you earlier, I concluded that you had really pretty eyes.”, she admitted mumbling the last sentence. Marinette was tense now and caused Damian to be determined to lighten the mood. “You know what they call a jacket on fire, right?” The random question threw her off as she furrowed her eyebrows together before raising one. “A blazer.” Nonchalantly as possible, he grabbed his drink and took a swig as the joke settled in. He admitted it wasn’t the best but was still rewarded greatly. A smile graced her lips before she burst into a fit of giggles, hiding her blush behind her hand. He was left catching his breath at the sweet sound of her laughs tinkled like bells in his ears. Completing his final step.

Step Four: Catch a Smile. Check!

Damian had not expected to get this far based on his track record. No matter how much the press gossiped about his looks and mysterious charm, he was never good at the social and relationship points in life. Damian would admit that the main problem was his inability to adjust to the variety of people’s personalities. Yet, this small slip of a girl who was an incarnation of pure sunshine made it feel so easy. His usually cold, harsh, and stoic demeanor vanished once in her presence. Damian felt like an entirely different person but found himself liking the new one better. His mind raced a million miles a minute on what else he could possibly do as they continued to talk. ‘Would it be weird if he tried to hold her hand? Maybe he could get a dance with her? What was a good way to catch her number? It’s dark he should definitely offer to walk her home. Getting a date didn’t sound bad either.’

Oh.

Oh no.

Damian realized the girl sitting next to him was already five steps ahead of him on her own mission. She had already caught all of his feelings and his heart in the hour they spent together. He knew she knew it too as she gave him a pleased smirk. Damian Al Ghul Wayne had his heart stolen from him right under his nose.

And he had no intention of taking it back. Next!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Aged up Daminette that I wrote about at 12 am....Enjoy?

#maribat #daminette #maridami #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #Aged Up Daminette

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tokimihyachi · 4 years ago

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Christmas Boy

Happiest Birthday to Clover Kingdom’s very own, William Vangeance! to celebrate his birthday, here’s a drawing— a rushed one, and another special one shot to commemorate such lovely day.

Pairing: William Vangeance x OC

Warnings: None.

24th December. Other than this day being Christmas, it was not much of a special date to one eccentric man in Clover Kingdom. William Vangeance, bare-faced, stood up from the silk sheets of his bed and rubbed his eyes to welcome the day before him, light from his balcony (he has one here, so shush.) casting light upon his face.

Stretching as he stood up, he neatly folded the used quilts and placed the pillows to where they were situated before he slept on them last night, before walking towards the windowsill and opening it, as a flock of various kinds of birds swarmed him like the Snow White that he is.

The sounds of the birds chirping was music to his ears, but to someone else, it was rather a nuiscance.

‘You’ve been doing that for years, William. Grow up will you?’ Patri sneered. The elf did not dislike birds, actually, he’s used to seeing and hearing them chirp every morning since before, he liked to hide in the shade of the tree where many birds live, but to be accustomed with William’s company is another thing.

‘Is that how you should greet me today, Patri?’ the boy with eyes as gold as the sun scoffed.

'I’m sorry. Happy birthday, my friend.’ Vangeance smiled at his friend’s acknowledgement. Carefully placing the newborn bird back in its nest using his World Tree Magic to extend the branched of the tree, he bids his other friends a good day before heading towards the bathroom to freshen up before breakfast.

— — — — — —

Despite reminding them countless of times, members of the Golden Dawn continued to pursue their plans to surprise their captain and greet him a happy birthday. William smiled at them as Letoile lit the birthday cake’s candles up and Alecdora took it from her hands, bringing it closer to his captain.

Hearing them sing the melodous song one chants during birthday celebrations was more than enough to the masked man as his day of birth has never been celebrated before. Considered to be a cursed child, her parents, particularly his Mother, considered December 24th as an ill-fated day he was given to them.

Unlike kids his age, he never received a cake that was decorated with sweet frosting. Never been greeted— locked even most of the time, and never had a friend who would voluntarily give him a present.

He was given a gift once by the kids he used to play with, but when he opened it, it was filled with powder that catapulted to his face.

“You should keep that powder on your face. That way it’ll hide that hideous scare of yours!”

"Why were you even born into this world, you monster!”

“He’s probably the reason why his own father died. Cursed being.”

For years those memories alone haunted him, which is why Julius and Yami had a hard time trying to find a perfect gift to him. In the end though, they treated him to dinner and sometimes agreed to do whatever activity he wanted to for the day.

Yami didn’t like his choices. They were total opposites that got along after all, but William rarely opens up much about his own self so he begrudgingly obliged, as long as there was free food at the end of the day.

‘Truly, I am blessed.’ The purple-eyed man thought as he blew the candles on his cake and the Golden Dawn clapped in cheer. Seconds later, they formed a line while bringing out their individual gifts for him. He warned them several times before that it would only be a hassle if they bought him gifts as there was still a party during the afternoon, but the stubborn girl one of them is, she pushed through with every festivity yearly.

Speaking of, where is she? William’s eyes wander the room, trying to search for the a pair of eyes redder than any rose he’s seen before, but alas he could not find her. ‘Has she, perhaps… forgotten my birthday?’ A pang of an unknown feeling went through his chest like a spear directly piercing his heart as the thought was processed by his mind.

Alecdora notices the unease of his beloved captain’s presence, so he opted to speak up, “Captain Vangeance. If I may, Lady Artemis is still sleeping…” he trailed off, failing to stitch more words together as William stood up from his chair to excuse himself, claiming that he must fetch and reprimand the sleeping woman.

The Golden Dawn shared knowing looks at one another, chuckling lightly afterwards as they were observant enough to know what was about to happen. William cautiously knocked at the door for a good couple of minutes before deciding to walk inside, scared that she might actually be in danger as he could not sense her mana at all.

“Artemis?” he called out. His voice laced in fear anxiousness more than he could ever imagine.

He expected two things or scenarios to play out when he turned the know of her door. One, she was either peacefully in deep slumber, the kind of sleep where her mana almost feels like it disappears completely or Two, she would be there on the floor, struggling for her life. But upon entering the room he stopped, seeing both of the imaginative situations he made were not in front of him.

Instead, there stood Artemis who clearly smelled like she took a bath, with both of her arms open and awaiting him to come forth as if she anticipated that he would walk through the door. The masked man gave her a confused look making the woman sigh and bring her hands down.

“What are you doing, Artemis?” William asked that further vexed the green-haired mage.

“Well,” she began, walking towards her captain slowly, giving the masked man a chance to see how alluring she looked under the touch of the sun early in the morning— her eyes burning brighter than any fire, her skin more supple and radiant than any sky, and her lips… tempting and soft, its presence even more so overwhelming than the usual.

“My gift isn’t exactly finished yet so I’m giving the next best thing.” as their eyes finally locked, Artemis’ gaze landing on his ear that were decorated in a light shade of pink making William cough to divert her attention, “And that is?” he inquired.

The woman rolls her eyes opening both of her arms again, “A hug! Now, come here you big baby!” chuckling at her little patience, probably because she waited longer than he thought, William gladly mirrors her gesture and wraps his arms around her figure.

In the darkness of his life, her cuddles feel like a little touch of heaven, warm, together, cozy. William could only wish that he could extend or perhaps stop time just so he could stay close to her longer, safe in her embrace. Artemis’ arms wrapped right around him brought a peace he’d never known before, calming of the storms in his heart.

The hug was a simple enough gesture - affection, perhaps the fragile beginnings of love. The arms that held him were soft, yet strong. The feel of her body so close to his soothed him more than he had expected. But within seconds she pulled away, his mind swam not with the heady excitement of a new relationship but with thoughts of why his heart was thumping loudly against his chest.

Her presence, more ominous than the usual. Was it because of the war nearing them? He could only guess. ‘You mean you can only deny?’ Dismissing the thoughts of his friend, Artemis took her captain’s wrist and pulled him outside her room, locking it afterwards and giving him a smile.

“There’s still a party ongoing below right? Not to mention one tonight with the captains so let’s go, Willy!” she yelled as they ran through the corridors. The masked man’s eyes dart on her hands holding his wrist and he had to bite his inner lip to prevent himself from making any noise. ‘What is it with this feeling?’

How he wanted to just grab her hand and intertwine her dainty fingers like that of a porcelain doll with his own, but he was not selfish and shamless. Artemis is a fine woman with class and exuding much elegance. She’s kind, selfless, thoughtful, exceedingly beautiful, and above all else, she’s smart. ‘and dense. Don’t forget clumsy as well.’

He could not risk such ripe and fruitful future ahead of her if he consticted her in any relationship with him other than being good friends that relied and trusted one another even if their lives depended on the situation, but he’s considered it— many times, and wondered what if he had the courage to speak his mind.

Alas he told himself not to. Both of them were healthy, given that, they still had plenty of years in front of them. So the possible lifetime they might share can wait, if it means he can treasure her longer and build up the willpower to face whatever consequence confessing might bring.

‘Wait, does this mean… I like her? Romantically?’ he shook his head. After years of denying was he about to accept and let these feelings consume him? Perhaps this was enough for now as he had other priorities to face. Yet in a few days these very thoughts would betray him, but how wrong he was to have not grabbed such golden oppurtune while it was still within his reach.

Complacency was never a good thing. And William Vangenace would soon know of this.

#black clover #william vangeance #one shot #bc #golden dawn #oc

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webrokethe4thwall · 4 years ago

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Venus in the City

A request from @rottmntrulesall for their Little Sister Venus AU. I highly recommend you check their blog out!

After begging and pleading with Splinter, the Turtles and April had finally convinced him to let them take Venus for a ride in the Turtle Tank. Venus fussed only a little as Donnie strapped her into a car seat that he had made especially for her before squealing in delight as the tank roared into life. Her older siblings smiled fondly at the happy noises she made.

“You like that, Venus?” Raph asked, carefully driving through traffic. “You like riding in the Turtle Tank?”

“Yeah!” April cheered in a high pitched voice, waving both of Venus’s arms in the air and pulling a giggle out of the Indian Tent turtle.

Venus’s eyes shone happily. The buildings were moving so fast, and her chair would bump and rattle in the most fun way! This was great!

“Wait, was that—” Donnie started as he squinted out the window.

Suddenly, the Turtle tank swerved as the Foot Lieutenant, Foot Brute, and Foot Recruit landed on the hood.

“Turtles!” Foot Lieutenant rasped. “Prepare for defeat!”

“Oh, come on!” Leo groaned. “Can’t we go for one drive without some bozos ruining everything? How’re we gonna deal with these guys with Venus here?!”

“Like this!” Donnie flipped a switch, and Venus was pulled into the back of the tank and encased by a clear dome. “That bubble is made of a highly damage-resistant material that will keep Venus safe while we deal with these jerks.”

“Don’t worry, Venus,” Mikey comforted the confused baby as their siblings rushed out of the tank. “We’ll be back soon. Just sit tight!”

And like that, Venus was alone in a bubble in the Turtle Tank as the teenagers battled the Foot Clan just out of her sight. The baby chewed on her teal ribbon tail for a little while before growing bored. Venus didn’t want to be in her chair anymore. She wanted out!

A moment later, Venus felt herself slipping free of her car seat, out of the bubble, and through the Turtle Tank’s floor. Her brothers and sister were still in heavy combat though, and the baby didn’t like how loud they were being. Closing her eyes and crawling forward, Venus slipped through dimensions to get to someplace quieter until her siblings were done fighting.

“That didn’t take very long at all,” April said as she and the Turtles climbed back into the Turtle Tank.

“I guess they didn’t restock their paper from the last time we fought them,” Raph gloated, hefting himself back into the driver’s chair.

“Let me put Venus back in her spot, then we can get rolling again,” Donnie said. Flipping another switch, the protective bubble pulled away, and the car seat returned to its original position. “Ready to go, Ve-ven-oooh, boy.”

When they all saw the empty car seat, their stress levels skyrocketed, but it could’ve just been Venus messing with them. April swiped her hand through the air just to be sure. They all shared a look and started freaking out.

“Where did Venus go?!” Mikey screamed. “She’s just a baby! What’s going to happen to our sister?!”

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“Where’d yous come from?” Venus blinked her eyes open to find Repo-Mantis staring down at her. She had traveled all the way to the junkyard. “You lost or somethin’, kid? I’m not a fan of turtles runnin’ around my junkyard.”

“Baah! Puh!” Venus babbled, crawling between Repo’s legs and disappearing further into the junkyard.

“Where d’ya think your off’ta?” Repo asked, ducking to follow the baby turtle’s travel. But she was gone. She had literally disappeared. “Wha?”

Not wanting a baby mutant wandering around his place of business, Repo went to look for her. He soon found her in his electromagnet. She managed to swing the heavy machine to hang over the school bus plugging Mrs. Nubbins’ den.

“Wait, no, no, no, no!” Repo shouted, rushing towards Venus. “Not that scrapheap, kid! Stop!” Too late. The bus pulled free, and the cat-mantis was unleashed. Repo immediately about-faced and ran away from his beloved pet.

Growing bored of the purple bugman and the machinery, Venus slipped out of the electromagnet and crawled out of the junkyard. She quickly caught wind of something that smelled delicious! A yellow van topped with a T-bone steak was parked across the street. What was over there that smelled so good?

“My, my, what have we here?” Venus was lifted up by metal hands that brought her face-to-face with a smug Meat Sweats. “You’re just the ingredient I needed for my latest recipe! How fortuitous for me.”

He plopped the baby turtle into the broth heating up on the stovetop, scrapped in some chopped up veggies, and sorted out the seasonings that would “unleash the flavor” within Venus. The Indian tent turtle gurgled delightedly in what she thought was tasty-smelling bathwater. She munched on a carrot piece, splashing in the broth, when pepper suddenly dusted her snout.

“That should do it,” Meat Sweats said. As he cleared away his spices, he noticed Venus scrunching up her face. “What’s that look for? My seasoning is perfectly balanced.”

He drew closer to the pot just as Venus unleashed a powerful sneeze. The sneeze was followed by spikes shooting out of her shell, flying all over the food truck’s kitchen. Meat Sweats squealed in horror. He knocked the pan off the stovetop and out of his truck, baby turtle and all, as the spikes pinned him by his apron to the cabinets.

“Oh, rubbish,” Meat Sweats grumbled.

Venus continued to chew on the veggies remained in the pot with her after the tumble when the she was lifted up once again. This time it was orange crab pinchers that carried her into an alleyway. So many new people in one night!

“Hey, Carl, check it out! It’s one of those turtle mutants that we hate, but littler!” The crabman without pinched Venus’s cheeks. She whined in displeasure and swatted his pincher away. “This one would be way easier to eat, and she’s already in some soup!”

The crabman with hair poked Venus’s cheek and felt his heart melt like butter when she sucked on his claw. “Pass, Ben. That’d be messed up. Maybe if she was bigger.”

“Bah?” Venus questioned, releasing the claw from her jaws. Bigger? What did that “bigger” mean? Steadily, the pot she was sitting in started getting tighter. Venus’s line of sight climbed, higher than when she sat on Raph’s head! The crabmen seemed to begin to panic. The baby turtle giggled and clapped her hands as the crabmen did a silly dance in front of her.

“This is not what I meant!” Carl shouted, swinging his arms wildly as the baby turtle quickly grew to double his and his brother’s size. Ben and Carl ran in wild circles for a moment before crashing into each other hard. The shock from the impact and panic from the giant infant knocked the duo unconscious.

Venus stared at the still crabmen before shrinking down to her normal size. They weren’t doing much more than breathe at this point, and the Indian tent turtle wanted something more entertaining than that. She crawled away and soon heard the laughter of children at a playground. All those colors and kids looked fun! Venus was all set to join them when something flopped onto her head and over her eyes.

“Turtle! Prepare to taste defeat at the hands of your greatest foe, Warren Stone!” The long pink thing in a purple jacket rolled into a dramatic offensive pose before the Indian tent turtle. “I won’t hold back just because you’re a ba-argh!”

Venus gripped the worm mutant by his throat and pulled his stretchy body as far as she could. This was a great toy! She whipped Warren around like a lasso and laughed brightly at the way he yelled. He made really funny noises, too! A white dove then flew into Venus’s line of sight and made her think of the cartoons she and Mikey would watch where birds would flock around the worm and beat them up. Attention drawn away, the baby mutant dropped the mutant in her hands and followed the dove.

“Where are you going?!” Warren shouted after her. “I’m not done with you yet!” He was then surrounded by a flock of large pigeons that had materialized out of thin air. “Or maybe I am.” The flock proceeded to attack the worm mutant. “Aaagh!”

Venus followed the dove for a few blocks, watching it land on the broad purple shoulder of Hypno-Potamus.

“There you are! Back in the hat you go,” Hypno said. He placed the dove back in his magic hat, poofing the accessory away, and caught sight of the baby turtle. She clapped at the sight of the hat disappearing, eyes wide with wonder. “You like that trick, little lady? Wait a tic, where is your family?” He glanced up and down the empty street then shrugged. “How about a little magic show until they come along?”

At the baby’s impartial gurgling, Hypno started performing tricks for Venus. She was delighted by the multicolor hanky rope the magic hippo pulled out of nowhere. Hypno clapped his hands together, and the hanky rope had transformed into a rainbow of cards floating between his palms as he drew them apart. Hypno flinched back at how high-pitched Venus’s surprised shriek was.

Where’d the rope go?! How’d the cards fly in the air like that? Was he magic like Leo and his portals? Was she magic? She looked at her own hands, clapped them together, and opened them herself. Cards floated between her palms, just like Hypno! She was magic!

“How’d you do that?” Hypno asked, just as surprised as Venus. He smirked and snapped his cards away. “Let’s see you copy this then!” He conjured up his top hat once more, and doves rocketed out from its depths.

Venus unleashed amazed laughter. Her cards disappeared as she waved her hands towards the birds flying up into the air. However, her happiness turned to fear once the flock of doves changed directions and flew straight at the baby turtle. Scared and confused, Venus screamed at the doves and the unfortunate magic hippo behind them as well.

“Argh!” Hypno cried out. He pressed his hands onto his ears, but the baby turtle’s scream was too strong. He squeezed his eyes shut against the birds that swarmed past him, missing Venus scramble away. All he was left with was ringing ears and a sense of confusion.

Venus blinked around tearfully at the fancy hotel she somehow entered. She crawled around the front desk and sat down. She liked birds, but those had gotten way too close way too fast.

“Hey, who’s kid is this?” A bellhop asked as he rounded the desk. “She doesn’t have a cloaking broach.”

“Take her to the yokai floors,” another bellhop said. He sniffed the air around her. “And see that she gets cleaned up. She must’ve gotten into the kitchen and lost her broach somewhere along the way if her scent is anything to go by.”

“All right, little one, let’s go.”

Venus let the bellhop carry her into the elevator and was happy to get a bath for once. The broth from earlier was starting to make her scales itch. She also liked the gentle attention the funny creatures in the red suits gave her. They were almost as good as her big brothers and big sister!

“Oh, she’s so pretty in that shade of teal!” The octopus yokai who had given her a bath said, carefully bouncing her in front of the other bellhops.

“Is she one of our guests?” A fox yokai bellhop asked, letting Venus fiddle with his hand. “I don’t recall any turtle yokai staying with us. And that mask kinda reminds me of those other turtles who keep breaking in.”

“What seems to be the piddly-problem here?” A sickeningly sweet asked from behind employees.

“Big Mama!” The octopus yokai spun to face the powerful spider yokai. “We seem to have a lost guest in our midst!”

Big Mama bent down to get a better look at Venus. She was stare was intense and unwavering. The yokai holding the baby and the bellhop were starting to sweat from how long Big Mama was locking eyes with the Indian tent turtle. Then, the disguised spider yokai squealed in delight, sweeping Venus into her arms and cuddling the baby close.

“Oh, what a splendiferously precious, teedly tiny turtlely-boo!” Big Mama cooed, rubbing her cheek against Venus’s. Venus laughed as Big Mama’s hair tickled her neck. “Such sprinkly-sparkly eyes! A fantampulous giggle as lovely as her ribbon!” She pulled back and considered the child in her arms once more. “Come! Big Mama will take care of you.”

Venus burbled contentedly in the purple lady’s arms. She reminded the baby of her daddy with how she talked.

“But Big Mama, what about her family?” the bellhop asked. “Won’t they be worried about her?”

Big Mama gave the bellhop a scathing look. “If her family truly loved her, she wouldn’t be lost and causing such a fizzywinkle among my on-the-clock employees! I shall deal with this doodlie-bug’s family if they ever show up.”

Venus chewed at the end of Big Mama’s cravat, watching the other yokai shrink away from the pretty purple lady. She must’ve been tough like April and Donnie for everyone to be so scared of her. Venus loved how much attention this “Big Mama” was giving her, but she was starting to want her brothers, sister, and father the longer the lady held her. Maybe everyone was done being loud by now? She should go back to her car seat. Venus started fussing and struggling to get to the floor.

“Oh, what’s wrong, cutie-doodle?” Big Mama asked. “Don’t fuss.”

When Big Mama lifted her higher and started walking away from the other yokai, Venus began to struggle in earnest. She didn’t want to be in this fancy building anymore! She wanted her family! Put her down! She slipped, quite literally, through Big Mama’s fingers and crawled as fast as she could towards the elevator.

“What?!” Big Mama shrieked. “Catch her!”

Suddenly, bellhops galore blocked Venus’s path. The baby didn’t stop for a second before she was crawling up the walls and onto the ceiling. All of the bellhops stared up in shock at her. However, the owl bellhop shook off his surprise, leapt up, and pulled the baby mutant into his arms. The unfortunate bellhop soon found his hands full of many Venus’s piling one on top of the other until he toppled over. Each bellhop and even Big Mama caught a duplicate before she hit the ground.

“Well,” Big Mama said, obviously ruffled. “That was unexpected. Are you quite done, turtle-boo?”

That’s when the acid vomit started shooting out of every Venus’s mouth.

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“Why doesn’t she have a tracker on her?” Leo yelled at Donnie. “You put a tracker on everything.”

“I wanted to!” Donnie yelled back. “But you all thought it was too extreme to put a tracker on a five-month-old!”

“Since when did you listen to us about where to put your trackers?!” Raph yelled.

This fighting was getting them nowhere. The Turtle Tank tore through the streets as the worried siblings searched for their missing little sister. They had chased of the Foot after five minutes max of combat. They had locked the tank door. Where could Venus have gone? Who could’ve been able to take her?! If it hadn’t been for sporadic dust clouds shooting up from Repo-Mantis’s Junkyard, they wouldn’t have had a clue where to start.

“Return our sister, you fiend!” Mikey demanded.

His family jumped out of the tank, armed and ready, only to see Repo dodging and running away from Mrs. Nubbins. Well… they weren’t expecting that. Repo was pretty good at keeping his beloved murder cat contained.

“Do we help him?” Leo asked slowly.

“No,” Donnie said. “This is a waste of time!”

“He might know something about Venus, though,” April countered.

“Alright, Mad Dogs,” Raph said. “Get that cat-mantis!”

One determined sibling fight later, Repo found himself on the business end of Leo’s odachi.

“Hey, bug-man,” Leo greeted. “You see a baby turtle mutant pass by?”

“That little thing was with yous guys?!” Repo yelled.

“And don’t even think about lyin—what?” Donnie asked. “You’ve seen our baby sister?!”

“Yeah,” Repo said, head lulled back. He may as well tell the kids what they wanted; they had saved his life after all. “She must’ve crawled off after letting Mrs. Nubbins out a minute ago. Came outta nowhere, that kid. Left outta nowhere, too.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” April demanded.

Muffled shouting from across the street drew the teenagers’ attention away from Repo, who took this opportunity to slip away. With their initial target gone, they went to investigate where the shouts had come from. April was the first to see the familiar food truck parked across the street. Something pointy stuck out at several spots on the outside of the truck.

“Meat Sweats!” she yelled, throwing the ajar backdoor open wide.

“Not you lot!” Meat Sweats groaned from where he hung on the wall. “One turtle disaster was enough!”

“Give us our sister!” Raph said, pulling the pig mutant free and dangling him in the air.

“That little terror is your sister?!” Meat Sweats roared. “Does the big one here shoot spikes, too?!”

“What? No,” Raph denied, lifting Meat Sweats higher. “Where’s our sister?”

“I threw her out, pot and all, when the spikes came flying at me,” Meat Sweats explained.

“We’re coming, Venus!” Leo yelled, tearing out of the food truck with his other siblings as Raph continued to hold Meat Sweats.

“Stop. Trying. To eat. My. Family!” Raph snarled in the pig mutants face before going to join the others.

Leo and Donnie were on the rooftops, looking in every direction for a hint of teal of their bubbly baby sister; Mikey and April scourged the alleys and streets for signs of Venus; and Raph patrolled in the Turtle Tank. A few moments later, the three groups converged where scraps of metal and two mutant crabmen lay uselessly in an alleyway.

Donnie prodded the mutants with his tech bo, saying, “What happened to you guys? Wait. Let me guess—you found a little turtle and she beat you up?”

The crabman with hair opened one eyestalk, saw the frustrated and near-feral teenagers looming over him and his brother, and shook his head.

“No, she got big, and my bro and I freaked out so much we knocked each other out. I thought she was gonna eat us.”

“Okay.” Donnie crouched down to look the crabman in the eyes. “First of all, she’s just a baby. Worst thing she can do to you right now is bite your exoskeletons. Second, where is she?” The crabman without hair raised a claw and wordlessly pointed towards the park across the street. “Thank you, gentlemen. You will not be eviscerated today.”

The Sando brothers cowered away from the determined children and slunk into the sewers as they crossed the street. The park was empty at the moment, so April wasn’t worried about anyone seeing the giant mutant turtles wadding through the bushes.

“Venus!” April and the others called in intervals, tearing the park upside down for their baby. “C’mon sis, where are you?”

“You guys looking for a baby turtle?” Warren Stone asked. He was chilling on a park bench, sipping a smoothie.

“Warren Stone!” April squealed. She ran up to her news anchor idol. “Do you know where our sister is? She’s got a teal mask and a pretty defined shell.”

“Yeah, she crawled that a-ways about ten minutes ago,” Warren said waving in the general direction. “Chasing a bird or something. No respect for the laws of mortal foe combat.”

“Thanks Warren! Stone-head for life!” April ran off to get her brothers. “I got a lead! Venus isn’t here anymore, but I know where she went!”

“Lead on, April!” Leo said.

April led them in the direction Warren Stone had waved in, and they soon came across Hypno. He was shouting and swinging a top hat at a flock of doves swarming over his head.

“Hypno!” Mikey shouted, wrapping the chain of his kusari-fundo around the hippo mutant. “Where’s our sister?”

“What?” Hypno shouted. “I don’t know anything about a ‘blister.’”

“I said sis-ter,” Mikey yelled. “Baby turtle mutant. Teal mask. Where?”

“Never met one,” Hypno shouted. “Why would a lady turban merchant need a flask? Speak up! I can’t really hear at the moment.”

The teenagers groaned. This was getting them nowhere!

“Did you lot happen to lose a baby turtle?” Hypno asked. “One passed by a minute ago. I gave her a magic show, but the doves scared her off.”

“Where’d our baby sister go?” Mikey yelled as clearly as he could. Hope shined in the box turtle’s eyes.

Hypno seemed to wilt from the question. “I don’t know. She let out a killer scream that took out my doves and my hearing. I didn’t see where she went.”

“That would explain the screaming-match,” Leo grumbled. “Mikey, let him go. Venus isn’t here.” But she has been causing some top-tier mischief.

Raph brought the Turtle Tank around for everyone to pile in and regroup. Now what? Hypno was their last lead to finding Venus, and he didn’t know where she crawled off to. How did her screaming make the hippo mutant go that hard of hearing anyway? Sure, the baby had a loud voice but not loud enough to make someone go near-deaf. Right?

“Now what, team?” Raph asked. “Where do we look next?”

“Well,” Donnie started. Then explosions erupted from the Nexus Hotel in the distance.

“FOLLOW THE CHAOS!!!” April shouted.

Moments later, the Turtle fam burst into Big Mama’s hotel, weapons drawn and ready to take on the spider yokai. The sight that greeted them was not what they expected from the usually put-together criminal boss. Small fires lit up parts of the lobby and stairs, yokai and humans alike were either flopped over broken furniture unconscious or shaking in absolute terror. A yokai ran from one end of the room to the other screaming his head off.

“What happened here?” Leo asked, lowering his sword.

“I don’t know,” Donnie said, looking at his wrist scanner and typing on it. “I’ll hack into the security feeds; you guys keep an eye open for—”

Big Mama chose that moment to leave the elevator in giant yokai spider form. The first thing the Turtle fam did was pull into a tighter circle, defending Donnie as he reviewed the hacked feeds. They noted how she looked, well, battered, bruised, and burned. Big Mama looked at the teenagers with six tired eyes, down at her thick arms, then back at the teenagers. She slowly walked towards them.

“Does this belong to you?” she asked, voice wavering from exhaustion.

Extending her arms, Venus dangled from her hands.

“Venus!” They all cried.

Raph carefully took Venus into his arms and backed his entire family as far away from Big Mama as he could. His siblings launched themselves onto his arms, kissing and cooing at the baby turtle warbling happily back at them. Before they could interrogate the spider yokai about how she got her claws on their precious baby sister, Big Mama passed out less than gracefully in her lobby.

Raph quickly carried his family back to the Turtle Tank where they continued to fawn over their baby sister, relieved to have her back and taking turns holding her close. Donnie held Venus very carefully. She had somehow gotten out of one of his inventions specially designed to protect her, and he took it personally. How had it happened?

“Let’s see how you got into Big Mama’s hands, shall we?” Donnie said, passing Venus off to April and hooking up his gauntlet to the tank’s display screen.

As the security feed played out, the Turtle fam watched with increasing shock as their baby sister all but destroyed the Nexus Hotel. From the very moment that she went intangible in Big Mama’s arms, to crawling up onto the ceiling, duplicating, and puking up acid, the teens couldn’t look away. Then things really got weird.

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Venus screamed in the arms of every bellhop that held her, causing them to drop the duplicates to cover their ears. Big Mama wasn’t so lucky. She held the original baby turtle. Big Mama had to transform into her yokai form in order to cover her ears and not drop the baby.

“Hush, cutie-doodle!” Big Mama tried to soothe the child.

No! Venus didn’t want the spider lady anymore. Maybe if they couldn’t see her, they’d leave her alone. Leo played peekaboo with her all the time. Maybe the same rules applied? Venus covered her eyes and held as still as possible. She heard a gasp of surprise and suddenly felt her bottom hit the ground.

“Where’d she go?” a bellhop asked.

“I don’t know,” Big Mama replied. “She was right here! Find her!”

Venus crawled away as the bellhops and Big Mama waved the air around the ground searching for her. She made it to the elevator right as it was closing before becoming visible again.

“There she is! How’d she get in the elevator?!” a yokai yelled out.

The crowd tried to get to the baby turtle, but the doors had already closed. Venus blinked. She looked around the box-like room she was in. How did these things work again? She spotted the shiny panel of buttons and made grabby hands at them. They were too high up! The Indian tent turtle’s line of sight was soon above the panel of buttons. She could totally reach them now! Venus slapped the panel happily. The room felt like it was moving.

When the doors opened again, there were bellhops waiting. They, unfortunately, were not expecting the little baby to have grown to be bigger than their employer. Venus mowed them down as she crawled into the hallway. She found a stairwell and wandered her way down a few flights before shrinking down again.

The door was too heavy for her small body to open. However, she didn’t hesitate to crawl right through the wall to the other side, which just so happened to be a fish tank. Venus loved swimming! She followed the exotic fish in the tank for a minute or two, completely missing the looks of horror guests and employees alike gave her for how long she was in there. What? It wasn’t like she was gonna run out of air. She did this all the time at home.

“There you are!” Big Mama cheered, scooping the baby turtle out of the water tank. “Oh, now you’re all sobbled! Come, dear, let Big Mama dry you off.”

Oh, not this lady again! Venus huffed and puffed, struggling to get out of the gentle but firm grip. Then, she felt something shoot out of her shell. Screaming rang out around her, and Big Mama gasped. Venus looked around and saw several spikes impaling pillars and pining people to the walls. The baby clapped, clearly enjoying the silly poses the yokai had struck to avoid the spikes.

“That’s quite enough of that,” Big Mama admonished. Neither yokai nor baby noticed the pillar behind them starting to fall over. “I’ve had enough fizzywinkles in my hotel today, thank you.”

The pillar groaned and slammed on top of the two females. The bellhops rushed to lift the pillar from Big Mama, who was banged and bruised from its weight, but Venus was perfectly fine. Her scales had formed into a silver armor, leaving a baby turtle shaped hole in the raised column.

Then, a fire started from one of the spikes slicing through an electrical outlet. Everyone started screaming and running. Venus started crawling away again. And—

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Donnie shut of the video feed. He, Raph, Leo, Mikey, and April stared at Venus in shock. Raph quickly drove them home. After the teens all gathered in the living room, they collapsed into a heap of exhaustion, stress, and disbelief. Splinter walked in to see Venus sucking her thumb on top of Donnie’s chest as the soft-shell gently patted her head.

“Ah, there’s my precious little girl!” Splinter smiled. “Come to Daddy, Venus.” He lifted Venus to his hip and rubbed his nose to her beak. “So, how was her first ride in the Turtle Tank?”

Splinter raised an eyebrow in confusion at the way the teens groaned and sunk even further into their sibling pile.

Mikey shot up from the pile and shouted, “VENUS HAS POWERS,” then sunk back to his place between his brothers and April.

What a chaotically long day.

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reach4themoon · 4 years ago

Text

We All Fall Down

Warnings: Death, description of bodies, slight mental torture(?), portrayal of murder and betrayal

Genre: Horror, murder, Carnival

Word Count: 1,936

Taeil came rushing into your apartment, excitement flooding the house as your friends and boyfriend shouted. It was your birthday and today was the first celebration with your boyfriend, you had known each other for a month but only started dating last week after his confession to which you happily obliged. The night started with drinks and dinner before your best friend brought out a cake and started the chorus of singing from around the room. You clapped, laughing along as they sang at the top of their lungs and drunkenly danced before finally blowing out the candles sitting atop the sweet dessert with only one wish in mind- to spend the day with Taeil.

It was an odd wish, yes, but you felt almost distant from him after you started dating. He rarely spoke of himself and only showed affection when others were around, as if it was only an act.

As everyone finished their cake, they began to hand you the presents they brought, smiling proudly as you opened them all and giddily thanked them. The only problem was Taeil, you were on the last present and yet you had not opened his, if he even brought one that is. Your guests seemed to pick up on the discomfort as you open the last gift of a silver necklace with the note reading Renjun. You tried to hide your disappointment but the tears threatened to spill as you said goodbye to everyone and thanked them for showing up, leaving you alone with the one person you couldn’t bring yourself to look at.

“You’re mad at me~” He called from the couch after seeing your slumped figure walk in.

“It’s my birthday, why would I be anything but happy?”

“Well that’s good, then you weren’t going to comment on the lack of a present today.”

The playful sound of his voice only angered you as you rushed into the bedroom and locked the door, huffing as you fell on your bed. How could he not even get you a card knowing you’d be upset?

“Honey~ You didn’t even give me a chance to explain.” He cooed, hand gently rubbing your back before you jumped up. You knew you locked the door.

“Do you have anything scheduled for tomorrow? I wanted us to go on a trip together.” Adrenaline rushed through you, forgetting everything else as you inquired about the trip with his only response being ‘It’s a secret.’

You don’t remember everything after that clearly, simply drinking some tea with Taeil on the couch before waking up in your bed the next morning. You smiled hearing a quiet voice outside following the smell of coffee and pancakes, grabbing one of your sweaters you rushed out to find Taeil standing by the stove humming along to a song only he could hear. Stalking over to him, you slipped your arms around his back, drowning in his scent while he finished cooking.

“Sit down, I’ll bring everything to you.” He gently removed himself from your arms, grabbing a nearby plate and sliding the pancakes on. Skipping over to the island table, you slid into the first chair and watched as he poured a glass of coffee and set it in front of you along with butter, syrup, and the plate.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” You watched him stand in front of you, nothing but his own cup to occupy him.

“I ate before you came out. When you’re done, get ready and we’ll head out because the drive is long, and I want to make sure you see everything in time.”

You nodded, doing as he asked while wondering what he possibly had planned for the day.

The drive was quiet, your partner simply staring ahead while you looked out the window suddenly realizing he wasn’t what you had always thought about him. The buildings flew by as he drove, only slowing when they morphed into trees and occasionally stopping for breaks along the way. It took everything in you not to ask him to turn around and take you home, you wanted to spend the day with him but this was not what you had in mind, the silence was deafening and the longer you watched the sun climb the sky and make it’s descent the more you wanted to scream.

Turning to him, you were about to tell him to go back when he pulled into a small dirt road and finally smiled, patting your leg excitedly as he cheered.

“We’re here! Close your eyes, I’ll guide you the rest of the way in.” He quickly stopped the car and unbuckled his seatbelt to get out and walk over to your side. You watched, hesitantly following his instructions, and getting out after closing your eyes.

“I’m right here, don’t be scared.” His breath tickled your ear as he covered your eyes with his hand and gently pushed you forward. You had no idea where you were and the darkening sky concerned you, but his excited presence was reassuring, telling you exactly where to go and avoiding any branches or dips in the ground.

“You can open your eyes now.” Removing his hand, he shuffled forward as you opened your eyes to a large, rusted gates before you. The arch above the doors read CarderVille, a name you couldn’t recognize despite how excited Taeil seemed as he turned back to grab your hand and pull you in.

“This, my love, is the country’s biggest carnival. It was closed and abandoned years ago, leaving only those brave enough to explore it to keep it alive in history.” You exhaled in awe as the structures came into view before you.

Even in the dark you could make out a large, colorful tent sat in the center with dozens of booths and old buildings surrounding. The site was thrilling, and you jumped up and down in excitement, this time dragging Taeil with you to look around.

Your first stop was at a carousel, the partially broken horses and dusty floors did nothing to prevent you from climbing on to admire, not noticing the disappearance of your boyfriend at first. After several laps around the contraption, you finally take a few steps back to look at it from afar when you think you spot something on the roof. Squinting, you stare at it and blink a few times, it closely resembled the figure of a crumpled human.

“It’s only the shadows messing with your eyes.” You try to convince yourself as you walk away, hoping to spot the one who brought you here in the first place.

You continued talking to yourself, reminding yourself it was safe and that Taeil would protect you from any harm.

When you reached a concession stand you stopped, curiously looking inside, and calling for Taeil as you see a shadow. With no response, you lean over the counter to get a better look and scream just as the lights suddenly flash on. The figure was not Taeil, the old rotting form before you were an unfortunate stranger. Turning away, you gagged, the smell sinking into your nose and forcing you to your knees to rid your stomach of its contents. You hear his cheers before seeing him in the distance, assuming he went to turn the lights on

You call his name's a few times but no response, you're sitting and waiting in hopes he's trying to mess with you when the lights suddenly flash on and you jump in fear only loosening when you hear Taeil cheering in the distance and minutes later running out on the main street. Despite the lights being turned on in the dark night, it's difficult to see. The orange tint adding little depth to the grand setting of the place and all you’re left to do is walk.

You walk, hoping to catch up to your beloved boyfriend when you hear whispering in a concession stand, the lights outlining a figure as you come closer to see. You wanted to call out to them, but your throat constricted and all you could do was curiously look closer. The body was old, rotting with the bugs crawling over it and signs of birds and other animals eating from it made you sick to the stomach, the contents from dinner earlier suddenly climbing its way back up as you turn away and collapse to the ground.

Once it seemed as though nothing more could come up you shakily crawled away from the booth, using a pole for lights to stand and look around. Taeil was nowhere in sight.

Your throat burned and tears pricked at your eyes as you called out for him, your voice pleading into the darkness met with a familiar melody. Following it, you blindly walked into the main tent only to find all sounds muted, the hushed silence combined with a lack of lighting spiking your anxiety once again.

Standing in the center, you looked up at the domed ceiling that appeared to go on forever with the shadows until your eyes adjusted more and you could faintly make out bleachers surrounding the edge of the tent. The longer you looked at them the crazier you felt, figures…bodies of people seemed to be placed throughout, their heads rolled to one side and shoulders slumped.

“Taeil, I want to go! Where are you?” You couldn’t take this anymore, you just wanted to leave.

That was when the song started up again, the melody seeming to haunt you now.

Ring around the Rosie

The image of Taeil humming in your kitchen clouded your mind. The morning of your birthday he had visited your apartment, claiming he wanted to make your breakfast and refusing to allow you to help. His smile was the brightest you had ever seen as he poured the batter on the pan, humming along to what he claimed was his favorite song. Now that very song felt like it had nailed your feet to the ground, your body felt like it wasn’t your own as you stood frozen in fear.

Pocket full of posies

You shouted and screamed hoping your dear boyfriend would show up. That maybe this was the nightmare and your brain had simply played a cruel prank on you and you still laid in bed the night of your birthday wondering what Taeil was going to do the next day.

Ashes, ashes

Tears streamed down your face, reminding you this was more than reality. A nightmare your brain would never create. You thought about running, but where would you go? You thought about hiding, yet you didn’t even know where safe was. So, you continued to let your fear hold your legs tight, believing that maybe this could be a cruel prank and that maybe the lights would turn on and you’d find family and friends laughing at your reaction. “Taeil.” You were shaking everywhere, the name quietly falling on your lips.

We all fall down

“I'm here my love,” the singing stopped. Taeil whispered right behind you, the shiver running down your spine telling you he was the last person you needed right now.

But by then it was too late, the piercing knife went through your back and all you could do was watch. Watch as you fall to the ground, Taeil pulling the knife out in the process and the blood beginning to pool around you ever so slowly. All you could do was listen, listen as Taeil began humming the tune of your favorite song as he wiped the blood on the knife off on you.

#moon taeil #taeil #taeil fanfic #nct fanfic #nct #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfic #halloween special

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chasseurdeloup-retired · 4 years ago

Text

Dreams Most Fowl || Erin and Kaden

TIMING: Current LOCATION: We just don’t know PARTIES: @corpse--diem and @chasseurdeloup SUMMARY: Erin and Kaden are feel a little squirrely at a funeral

Kaden had nothing but dreamless sleep ever since Regan had come home. It was deep and he woke up still tired, but at least it was fucking sleep. Alarm was going off. He slammed it off and quickly got dressed into his running gear. “Yogurt’s on the counter,” he called out to the still tiny Regan as he clipped Abel’s leash into place. “Wait,” she called out from the tissue box, climbing out of her makeshift bed. “I need to show you my latest crumb drawing,” she said. “After my run. Pr--” The word caught in his throat, either voluntarily or otherwise, he wasn’t sure. “After,” he said as he headed out the door, Abel in tow. A few quick stretches and he was off, jogging out of the neighborhood towards Gallows Grove. Try as he might to avoid it, the cemetery was some of the nicer plots of land nearby. It also may have become a bit of a habit given who he was dating. But he wasn’t drawn to death. Not like she was. As he ran, he started hearing a chirping behind him. And squeaking. Must just be the animals in the trees. But oddly it sounded… louder than normal. Whatever. He kept on running, Abel by his side. Totally normal.

Dirt thumped onto the casket hovering above an open grave as Mr. Rodriguez’s widow’s tears filled the brisk morning air. There was nothing abnormal about today. Not for Erin. This was as routine as filling out paperwork in her office. She stood towards the back as the mourning family said goodbye, her eyes drifting to the sea of headstones surrounding them. The air felt eerily still when she locked onto ‘Nichols’. That wasn’t right. Her family’s plot wasn’t even in this cemetery. Hair on the back of her neck stood upright, like warning. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe as she watched grassy dirt shift and move in front of her father’s plot, struggling to climb it’s way out. The empty plot where her father would have been if the witches hadn’t helped her send his decaying carcass into another world. A shrill yet thundering squawk overhead tore her eyes from the sight. A shadow stretched out, darkening every corner of the cemetery and then some. It was the gust of wind that knocked her and the panicked mourners on her ass that got her to look up. Through their screams of terror, one of them voiced the question her mind was screaming but her lips were too shocked to form. “Is that… is that a bird?”

Abel was running steady beside Kaden when they came across a funeral. Merde, he usually didn’t run into funerals this early in the morning. Shit. Jogging past them felt so disrespectful. Shit. Turning around felt worse. Maybe they wouldn’t see him. Only the people dressed all in black were waving at him. Okay, then. Kaden tentatively waved back. White Crest was fucking weird. Before he could consider why the fuck they were still waving and looking past him, Abel was tugging at the leash and twisting behind him to bark. “Come on. There’s nothing th--” Kaden twisted to look back and saw it. The source of the chirps. “Bordel de putain,” he muttered to himself right as he tripped on the pavement ahead of him and went toppling to the ground. Fuck, that hurt. Right. The people weren’t waving at him, they were pointing at the giant fucking bird behind him. His eyes were fixated on the creature as its beady eyes darted and flitted around, looking for something. But what? Shit. Didn’t matter much. Kaden scrambled to get up and tried to pull Abel back, jerking the leash towards him. Only there was nothing on the other end. Just a dust drawing of his nose where he should be. “What the fuck?” he mumbled. A bellowing squawk came from the bird and he started to turn to run away when he ran into something. Again. The fuck, he wasn’t normally this clumsy. “Erin?” he asked as he realized who he’d just accidentally shoulder checked while trying to get away.

At some point, Erin had started running. She didn’t remember scrambling to her feet or ditching the fleeing family at the gravesite. But here she was, booking it through the grass, only vaguely aware that she suddenly also wasn’t wearing shoes anymore. Not relevant. Not when the gush of wind from another flap threatened to send her flying again. It wasn’t the bird that nearly bowled her over this time. “Jesus--” she groaned, narrowing her eyes as she just barely caught herself. “Kaden?” Of all the people she could have run into, this was the last person on earth she expected and her face mirrored that surprise. “Christ, were you a linebacker in another life?” She grimaced, holding and shrugging her aching shoulder. Outside of the giant fucking bird, this didn’t feel right. If she had more than a few moments to focus, maybe she would’ve noticed how time was playing fast and loose with her perception, or how the landscape and the expression in faces of the mourners kept subtly changing around them. What she did notice was the way the ground was shaking. Suddenly the cemetery was filled with people, standing in awe, watching something just beyond the trees. She couldn’t see it though. “What the actual fuck is going on?” She asked, trying to catch a glimpse at whatever horror these people were screaming about.

“Sorry,” Kaden muttered. What the hell was Erin doing here? And was she shoeless? Kaden figured that didn’t matter. What mattered was getting the hell away from that big ass bird. “Hunter strength but we don’t have time to--” The rumble of a chipr rang out along with ripples of giant talons scratching along the ground in the distance. He wasn’t sure what Erin was doing here, but he grabbed her arm and started to direct her to follow him, they had to run from the bir-- His hand dropped and he stopped in his tracks as the ground became even more unsteady. It rattled and shook and the trees across from the beant and broke until big, fuzzy grey paws broke through. Then a nose, twitching to reveal huge, square, sharp teeth. The beady eyes were looking right down at them, the small ears swiveled in their direction. The squeak and squeal roared out at them. “Putain,” Kaden said, gaze pinned on the squirrel as it came straight towards them. He turned. Yup, bird still behind them. There were sounds of applause and cheering that started nearby and Kaden looked to see the mourners clapping as they watched the scene in front of them. “What the fuck?” He knew White Crest was weird but this was next level.

Did Kaden just say hunter? Erin didn’t push it. For some reason Kaden was here, and so was a bird the size of Mothra. All that mattered right now was not getting plucked up and swallowed whole for dinner. Time crawled as the oversized squirrel revealed itself, trampling through the trees, snapping them like twigs beneath monstrous paws. This was it, huh? Of all the fucked up nonsense this town had thrown at her, giant woodland creatures were going to do them in with an ecstatic audience cheering on their impending doom. Wait. Erin stilled. A bird and a squirrel? There was something familiar about that combination eating at the edge of her consciousness. The squirrel’s chittering and squeaking pierced her ears and the word run was screaming louder than anything in her brain. The crowd of mourners were suddenly startling quiet, still as corpses themselves, the corners of their lips forced upward in unnatural, wide grins. “Oh, fuck this,” Erin murmured as she started elbowing her way through the crowd, casting a look back to see if Kaden was following her when the casket caught her eye. It was open. It shouldn’t have been open. It shouldn’t have been empty. When she turned, she realized she was running straight towards Mr. Rodriguez. Eyes still sealed shut, his skin was dripping as if he’d been in there for months instead of hours. Like her father had. Like a zombie. He smiled and waved and she veered hard into the woods away from him.

Kaden took off at a run at the same time that Erin did. There was a casket. Sure, that made sense, this was a funeral, even if it was a weird one. What didn’t make sense was the man climbing the fuck out of it. “Putain,” he said as he jumped away from the body as it waved at them. Fucking hell. Kaden swerved to follow Erin, running after her towards the forest. He weaved in and out around trees, dodging braces, the cawing and chittering bellowing behind them still. As he ran, the trees started to thin out, the path ahead got clearer. That didn’t make sense, he was sure they had run north, deeper into the woods. But all the same, the way opened up and the ground beneath him became more even until it wasn’t dirt anymore but hardwood floors. The trees that had been reaching out were gone and he was surrounded by the four walls of his apartment. His run slowed to a jog and then a walk. When Kaden turned to look behind him, the door was even there, as if he hadn’t just come there from the woods. What the fuck?

“Kaden, over here! You can see my drawing now,” a small voice called out. Regan? His brow furrowed but he walked towards the counter. “It’s missing something,” she said, furrowing her brow and tilting her tiny head, arms crossed in front or her as he approached. When he looked down, he saw a surprisingly detailed crumb rendering of a marble gravestone. The grass and flowers, all perfectly pictured with tiny remnants of crackers and bread. “Ah, that’s right,” Regan said as she went back to work rearranging more crumbs. “This is perfect.” When she backed away, the headstone had a name above the epitaph. Kaden Langley. Gone but never forgotten. Beloved by family and friends. “That-- That’s just like what we saw at the carnival. Why would you draw that?” Kaden asked, eyes wide and slowly backing away from the counter. “It’s what I do,” she said simply. Kaden backed away more and stumbled and tripped over a root, falling down onto what was once more the dirt ground. When he looked back, a squawk rang out. He screamed. The bird’s colossal beak was right above him, ready to swoop down and pick him up.

At some point in her scramble in the opposite direction of that nightmarish scene, Erin realized she’d lost Kaden. Maybe he should have been worried or turned back to check but she couldn’t stop running, even as the rocks and branches scratched up her feet. Why had he even been here? Fuck. She should go back. When she finally had the nerve to glance back, all she could see was trees, inexplicably denser and darker than when she’d run through them. No Kaden, no corpses, no fucking woodland creatures though. This was fine. This was fine--she slammed into something hard but soft, sending her bouncing backwards. Looked up to see a giant, grey paw as big as her sunk into the dirt. Where the fuck had this thing come from? Hadn’t it behind her? She frantically scurried backwards as it sat up on its hindlegs, sniffing the air, beady, black eyes locked on Erin.

Her back hit a tree and she glanced around, trying to find somewhere to run. The forest had cleared out in front of her but the woods behind her had seemingly multiplied in just a few seconds, jutting up from the ground like prison bars. She couldn’t run through it if she tried. She was trapped. This was it. This was actually the end. The squirrel was leaning down again, the looming shadow swallowing any sunlight from above. All she saw was giant, snickering teeth and mischievous paws reaching towards for her. All Erin could do was close her eyes and pray it’d at least chomp her down in one go. Tried to think of anything else to soften the incoming blow. Nic’s shy smile, pancake breakfasts with her family, Betty curled up in her lap--

A deafening POP filled the forest. Suddenly she was drenched and getting lobbed with gooey chunks of… something. It was raining. She felt that too. The squirrel was gone when she opened her eyes but a horror scene had been left in its place. Looked down at her hands, her arms. Red. Everywhere. Did it--did it explode? At least it was fucking dead and she wasn’t. She could breathe. She looked up again, the man from the casket suddenly inches from her face. Grinning, teeth sharp and menacing, eyes bright blue and hollow all at once.

Kaden tried to scramble away, but the bird had grabbed his leg and picked him up so he was flying in the air upside down, away from his apartment, tiny Regan waving as everything grew smaller and smaller. The world below became nothing but a sea of tree tops, until he caught sight of the cemetery again. And the fucking squirrel. The bird swooped down to give him a better look. No, there was no swooping, just falling. Lots of falling. Kaden screamed as the sight came closer and closer, faster and faster. Even then, he couldn’t miss the squirrel exploding, viscera flying everywhere. At the same time, so did the funeral attendees, their heads beant back and their chests exploded, heart and lungs bursting out of their chests before they collapsed in place. Kaden tried to scream again, sure that he was getting close to the ground below when he felt the world spin and jerk around. He heard rattling and cheering and screaming nearby. Was he-- He was on the roller coaster. “No hands, Langley,” Wu said, turning to him and prying his fingers off of the restraint. Every inch of him knew it was a bad idea, he tried to hold on, but he couldn’t, she wouldn’t let him. “Come on, it’s fun.” It was the last thing he heard as the car took another loop and he toppled out of his seat, falling into a black abyss below.

Kaden jerked out of bed, sitting up, sweat beading on his forehead, trying to catch his breath. Bed. Blankets. Wing. Wing? He looked next to him and saw Regan fast asleep and her wings were sprawled out, one was resting on top of him. Dream. That’s all it was. He rubbed his face while the dog peeked his head up to see if it was time to go out. “Go back to sleep,” he whispered to Abel. And that was exactly what he planned to do himself. Hopefully dreamlessly this time.

Erin was still screaming when she launched herself out of bed, tangled in bedsheets. Her knees hit the floor and the deafening silence of the dark room had her reeling. It’d been a dream--a fucked up, hyperrealistic one, but a dream nonetheless. She was fine. She was sweating, struggling to catch her breath, heart lumped in her throat--but she was fine. “The hell--you alright?” A tired but worried voice broke her thoughts. Of course she’d woken Nic, suddenly awake and alert. Right. That kind of thing happened when you woke up screaming next to a hunter. Hunter. Kaden. That’d been weird too. “Sorry, sorry--I’m fine, it was just a dream,” she waved it off, a little embarrassed as she pulled herself to her feet. “Fuck, ow,” she hissed and slumped down onto the bed. Froze again when she pulled her leg up, spotting the small cuts littering the bottoms of both of her feet. She remembered she’d been running. But it was… just a dream?

#wickedswriting #writing #erin #corpsediem #dreams most fowl #chatzy

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago

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St. Petersburg, Florida, Fourth of July.

The midsummer night reverberated with the boom of fireworks, punctuated by the awed gasps of the spectators. The bright colors reflected off the water of the Gulf of Mexico, doubling the display. People lined the beach, couples hand-in-hand, children on the shoulders of their parents. An old grizzled veteran stood in his military colors, solemnly saluting.

Some people would say that patriotism was one thing that brought Americans together. Whether or not that was true was up for debate. Even if it was not, the pretty colors and food and family, feeling the kiss of a cool ocean breeze, were enough of a common denominator.

At the moment, everyone in the crowd was happy. They had the day off, an excuse to drink and stay up late.

But there were a few serious faces observing the beach that night. On the top floor of a nearby condominium hotel two young people dressed in navy blue to blend in with the night sky held binoculars trained on the stretch of beach. Silhouetted by the flashing pyrotechnics, they looked like stalking birds on the building.

“Post 1. No Target found.”

“Post 2. No Target found.”

There were seven posted sentries on this beach. Each one had temporary agents, as well as official agents from the executive department waiting on standby among the line of food trucks on the boardwalk.

They all carried guns filled with Frigga bullets: special ammunition filled with powerful anesthesia. These bullets were made especially for this mission to carry three times the normal dose.

The target tonight was very difficult. The participants in the mission were first and second year students. Rookies. As part of their first year, they had to be assigned at least one high level mission, to expose them to the realities of the battlefield in their war against the dragon clan. It helped weed out potential weaknesses, both mentally and physically.

“A+ level unstable hybrid...” Jason looked out over the beach, watching a group of young men try to throw one of their friends into the ocean. “I’ve only been here for a week...”

“What are you worried about? They wouldn’t send us out here if they thought we were going to die. Besides, the target is probably going to be down in that crowd, not looking for us up here on a roof.”

His partner Rebecca ran one hand through her ebony hair. She smiled at him. “Relax, Okay? I’m sure the higher ups know what they’re doing.”

Jason, a first year student, ranked a measly C. His partner ranked a B+. She also outranked him in other ways. Her father built up a business from scratch, starting out running a delivery service for tamales out of his home. He cultivated that startup into a successful franchise present in three cities. She’d lived a comfortable life ever since.

He on the other hand, while having everything in the world, wanted to study art, was pushed into business by his father, only to drop out when his obvious lack of interest manifested itself in low grades. If it wasn’t for Cassell, his father probably wouldn’t look him in the eyes.

Her B+ wouldn’t catch the eye of the Cassell Elite, but it, as well as her bubbly optimistic personality drew him to her. He was happy to be on her team from the start. Maybe if he did well, he would get over his shyness and tell her that.

He had two pistols that he was trained to fire loaded and ready. He cast his eyes back down the edge of the building. “There’s a lot of people in the way. What if it just... mows its way through them?”

“Stop worrying! We have the president of the Student Council here, remember?”

“Jason, Rebecca, turn off your Headsets while chatting.” A frigid voice sounded in their ears. They both clapped their hands over their mouths.

The target was called the “Night Stalker”, a mysterious man who cut a weak and miserable figure and appeared on the street to perform magic tricks for whatever people would give him. There was little more description than that. He tended to cover his face, walk about at night. But no one could forget his magic.

He was becoming an urban legend. A few people who heard about him walked about trying to encounter him. They said that if you gave him a coin, he would show you a vision so enthralling it was like a dream come true, a high better than any drug.

The idea was irresistible. The local police accused him in dealing narcotics and hallucinogens. They put a warrant out for his arrest. But no one came forward.

Then the bodies started showing up.

Severed limbs washed up at the beach to be found my joggers. Dog owners described their beloved animals fishing them from the waves. There was no consistently to the victims. He was an ambush predator. He took whatever wandered by.

In the end, a victim escaped when, while under the high, he took a wrong step off a curb and badly twisted his ankle. He spotted his companions, dancing away from him. He called out but they didn’t hear him.

Someone took him to the hospital. A few days later, his friends were found, dismembered on the beach.

While the police desperately searched for clues, Cassell intervened. The case reeked of Dragon activity. An out of control Hybrid had emerged in St. Petersburg.

It was once the practice of Cassell College to eliminate such hybrids. They were on the verge of becoming a Death Servitor. They were extreme dangers to a human public that were all too susceptible to their Soul Skill. However, a woman, now in her third year at the College changed that practice.

The S-Ranked Hybrid, Carli.

Rebecca had heard all sorts of rumors whispered about Carli. She heard that she had killed a servitor on her first day, survived a ranked - SS mission only a few days later, participated in the slaying of a Dragon King and defeated Caesar Gattuso at the Day of Liberty under the banner of her self-made exclusive club.

If that weren’t enough, she won the heart of Chu Zihang, one of the most handsome guys in school who was notorious for not caring about dating girls at all.

All at a school were girls were ranked mostly by how pretty they looked in a white skirt.

Carli had come in and quietly and swiftly dominated, even down to the way this A+ mission was handled. She had a Soul Skill that could control them, according to the rumors. Rebecca couldn’t help but have great admiration for her. Maybe someday, if she worked hard, Carli would let her into her club.

Loud laughter got her attention. The group of young men from before cavorting and splashing around, waist deep in the surf. The sounds of their hollering was audible even from this high vantage point. They suddenly paused, gathered around in a circle as though looking at something in the center. Occasionally, one would laugh, but mostly they were quiet.

Jason sat up. “Observation Post 1. Reporting suspicious activity!”

Rebecca looked down at the men. They suddenly broke their huddle shouting and cheering and whooping under the light of the fireworks. The display had reached its climax, the series of explosions drowned out every sound.

The men cheered and jumped, pumping their fists at the bright lights.

One young man was suddenly yanked beneath the waves as though he were tied by the ankles.

Then another.

Rebecca shouted into her comms, voice taught with terror. “Alert! Alert! We have target! We have target!”

#Practice

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quarterfromcanon · 5 years ago

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Huzzah!

for @imunbreakabledude

Thank you for the wonderful idea generators you listed in your request; every single one served to spark some element of this piece and I had such a great time putting it together. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3 Happy Valentine’s Day!

Word count: 3,820

Rating/content warnings: G. Mild swearing. No violence and nothing really sexual. Unless you count #archeryarms. They are quite powerful.

Relationships: Mostly general Gurl Group and co. in nature, but there may or may not be a little Rethaniel kernel planted here somewhere... ;)

Summary: Our beloved residents of West Covina take a trip north to engage in some Renaissance merriment.

Rebecca stood before the wall-length mirror and ran her fingers along the feather tucked above the brim of her hat. She adjusted the small tambourine tied to her waist and planted both hands on her hips.

"Well, fair ladies... or, should I say, RenFaire ladies, are we ready?"

A row of restroom stall latches slid aside and their doors swung wide to reveal the rest of the Gurl Group, all clad in their carefully selected costumes for the day. Rebecca bounced in place and clasped her hands under her chin.

A net beaded snood held all of Paula's beautiful red hair. An ornamental ruby brooch was fastened to the bodice of her ornate raspberry gown. She smoothed the fabric and held her head high, striking a pose.

Valencia repurposed the faux leather portion of her Bride of the Pirate King costume and fashioned it to be part of her falconer garb, complete with a Velcro wrist attachment featuring a tiny plush merlin fitted with a hood. A simple plait kept her field of vision clear with the added bonus of helping combat overheating. She twisted sideways and nodded approval at her reflection, pleased with the silhouette.

Heather had happily seized the opportunity to go as an archer, a set of garments she'd been assembling piece by piece ever since she started her continuing education class. Her hair was braided and bound together to reduce the risk of distracting strays. Many of her beloved camo greens were present in this ensemble, albeit separated into individual components of her attire. She moved to tuck her hands into her pockets, remembered that there weren't any, and instead hooked both thumbs through the belt.

The bridge of Rebecca's nose scrunched as she grinned. "Crushin' it. Fresno, here we come."

"Play us out, Cookie," Paula urged.

Rebecca scooped her lute - easily the most expensive item for her look since she had been adamant about carrying a functional instrument rather than a prop - off the countertop and strummed. Her gaze turned skyward as she left the rest stop bathroom attempting to generate lyrics on the spot.

"The countess doth my song request, I go at her courtly behest, and now I introduce four: there were none quite so resplendent, connected yet independent, trust me I'm the troubadour..."

Scott and Tommy were already waiting outside dressed as an earl and a squire, respectively. Tommy gave them all an appreciative thumbs up and Scott applauded. The latter strode over to Paula when she emerged. Scott bowed and then held out his hand. "My lady?" He gestured in the direction of their waiting minivan in an unspoken offer to escort her.

Paula smiled and accepted his outstretched palm. "Milord."

While they walked, Scott called over his shoulder. "I like the new ditty, Rebecca. Lotta info in a little time. Nice and snappy."

Rebecca waved an 'oh, stop' gesture, but she was unable to hide her delight in receiving positive feedback. "Thank you. I couldn't resist a little Danny Kaye tribute. I think it could work better if I ramp up the speed of my delivery, now that I've worked out the words."

Valencia flanked Paula on her other side and leaned in close to whisper, "What musical was she talking about?"

"No idea. It must've been before my time."

They loaded back into the vehicle, though with considerably greater difficulty given the added layers of their new outfits. Paula now had to sit in the middle with Rebecca to have room for her voluminous skirts. Scott took the driver seat in her stead, and Tommy sat beside him. Valencia detached the falcon from its perch and buckled it into the rear middle seat to keep it from sliding around on the drive. Heather observed this with quiet amusement. She patted the fake bird on the head. "Safety first."

The wardrobe-swapping pit stop in Tulare was only about forty minutes away from their final destination, a span of time which seemed to fly by after the previous three hours on the road. Eagerness for the festivities ahead reached a renewed high as the park finally came into view. Scott pulled up to the waiting staff member and exchanged pleasantries. He passed the young worker a bag of canned goods they'd brought to contribute to the faire's donation drive and then fished out his wallet to pay the parking and admission fee.

As soon as they exited the van, all the sights and sounds swept them into the action. There were myriad tents on either side of the path that wove through the trees. Bakers, potters, and weavers sold their wares; blacksmiths hammered hot metal atop anvils, and a cheerful tune drifted from a shelter housing a trio of professional musicians. The food court beckoned with the scent of cakes, pies, meats, and sandwiches. Their first quarter of an hour passed simply drifting from one table of offerings to the next, admiring everything and strategizing how they would spend their money later.

Once they'd gotten a general sense of the lay of the land, Rebecca began walking backward to face the group at large and clapped her hands together. "Okay, time to get the party started. Where to first? Birthday girls' choice. Heather? Paula?"

Heather pulled a face. "That's not gonna be how you introduce us all day, is it? You're gonna confuse everybody since it's not, like, actually either of our birthdays. Not even close."

"Okay, true," Rebecca conceded, "but 'a November day that happens to fall almost squarely in the middle between the two and on a weekend we could all ask off work' is a mouthful to explain to strangers."

"Or we could just try, y'know, not sharing any details of our personal life with the RenFaire performers?" Heather suggested with a sarcastic shrug.

"But then none of them will sing you a period-appropriate song or raise a celebratory cheer." Rebecca pouted.

Heather nodded with satisfaction. "Exactly."

"Verily, thou art a most obstinate addle-plot," Rebecca remarked with a sigh.

"Oooh, are we doing the olde timey talk now?" Paula brightened. "I've been practicing for this."

"Aye, good lady," Rebecca confirmed and linked their arms. "I believe the hour is upon us!"

Just like that, all lighthearted squabbling was forgotten. Rebecca and Paula joyfully riffed off one another using every medieval and Renaissance vocab word they could recall. They even dusted off their questionable English accents for an added layer of "authenticity." Tommy and Heather exchanged glances at some of the inventive word choices, having acquired a passing familiarity with the correct terms on their individual visits to similar faires, but they let the giggling duo indulge in their antics.

A short while later, they stumbled upon another tent of interest, which appeared to be dedicated to wood carving. There were wall hangings, placards, canes, birdhouses, and countless other novelty handcrafted objects. One rather simple looking cube with hinges on the corner of a table caught Rebecca's attention. She plucked it up for closer inspection. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips when she saw the lion rampant carved into the surface of the lid. She pried the box open with her thumb and gasped.

"Aww, there's a little compass inside! I wonder how much this would cost to send to Na--" Rebecca dragged out the first syllable of the name, realizing too late that she'd spoken the thought aloud. "--antucket. I've got a cousin out there who might enjoy it for... scout hikes."

She nodded perhaps a little too emphatically at the end of this improvised statement. Her eyes flicked from one companion's face to the next to see if they bought the cover story. The reactions were unanimously not in her favor.

"You were about to say Nathaniel." Paula gave Rebecca a reassuring nudge. "Sweetheart, you don't have to hide it from us. We've known for weeks that you two have been writing back and forth to each other. I accidentally used one of his envelopes as a coaster when you invited me over to hear a few works in progress."

"Yeah, and you stowed another letter behind Estrella's tank," Heather added. "Which is literally transparent so..."

"Having a pen pal is actually kind of perfect for you," Valencia said. "You're the only person I've ever known who bought stationery as a souvenir."

"It has been nice, keeping in touch," Rebecca admitted. "We're in different countries, both staying introspective and working on ourselves, but I think we've gotten to a place where we can check in on each other without undoing all the positive growth." She turned the compass over between her fingers and then held it out for the other women to inspect. "Do you think he'd like it?"

Heather's head tilted to the side. "Exclusive product ... a little pretentious but still practical... prominently features an animal you could find in a zoo... Sounds like a match from what I remember about him."

"Plus, it's kinda symbolic, y'know? Like he can use it because he's surrounded by wilderness but he's also finding his way," Rebecca explained. "This could be a memento to commemorate that."

She removed the wad of bills from the change purse on her belt and separated the necessary amount listed on the sticker. Once the compass was officially in her possession, Rebecca swung the bag back and forth, considering what a nuisance it would be to have that hanging from her wrist for the rest of the day. She nonchalantly turned a sharp corner as they left the tent. There, she discretely tucked the remaining dollars into her bra and stashed Nathaniel's gift in her former cash pouch.

The others were gathered around the pamphlet guide now open in Paula's hands when she returned.

"Looks like a lot of the big events are in the afternoon," Heather noticed.

"Count me in for the show where the guy swallows fire." Tommy tapped the corresponding spot on the park map.

"And we're getting funnel cake later, right?" Rebecca pointed to Paula and then back at herself.

"Oh, of course," Paula readily agreed. "It's quintessential fairground food."

"Don't forget the giant turkey legs!" Scott added, already scanning the large painted menus in the distance so he could make a beeline to that station once they were ready to eat.

Valencia looked ill at the mention and returned her attention to the accessory booth she'd drifted toward while the others spoke. She held up two pieces she might purchase and frowned thoughtfully. Heather plucked a small standing mirror off the display table and held it for her while she considered each necklace in the sunlight.

A faint buzz sounded from Valencia's satchel. She angled her body so the jewelry could rest against her chest without sliding off and then rummaged for her phone. "Ah, crap."

"Who is it?" Heather prompted.

"Darryl with the five thousandth Pinterest idea for his Blended Family Unity Ceremony. I thought the point was to do something simple and sentimental, once they decided they didn't want all the hassle and planning of another wedding in their lifetime. April seemed in favor of that. But Darryl's gone down an Internet-ing rabbit hole and can't be stopped. I thought the ceremony itself might clock in at twenty minutes at most, when they first brought it to me."

"Oh, my sweet summer child." Rebecca shook her head as she tuned in to the conversation.

Valencia’s shoulders sagged and she grimaced. "I know. Joke's on me. At this point, I'd recommend the guests just clear their schedule for the whole day. This latest concept involved a giant canvas and finger painting so... wear something you don't care about."

A collective groan rippled through the group. It was confessed, however, that they all expected at least one genuinely tear-jerking moment, given Darryl's fierce and unwavering attachment to each person who would be in attendance.

The six of them then followed the map to briefly observe a staged sword fight and a live joust. Paula and Rebecca reminisced over A Knight's Tale and lamented the fact that more stories depicting the era did not include extended dance and/or musical numbers.

"With the obvious exception of The Court Jester, of course," Rebecca said.

Paula gave a vague nod, smile locked in place but eyes blinking rapidly. "Right. Sure bet it does."

"You've never seen it, have you?"

"I'm not even sure if it's a play or a movie." Paula offered an apologetic wince. "You're sorta my primary go-to when I need to understand these kinds of references. I don't have the head space for it."

"I mean, a first watch is definitely something we need to remedy on a weekend soon but, given that I have three decades of passionate devotion to the art form, I get what you mean." Rebecca patted her lute fondly.

They stopped by the wooden ship stationed on the grass where actors dressed as pirates interacted with the crowd and set off small cannons. Then the group advanced toward the last thing on their list of pre-meal activities, which was to watch one of the live shows. The uproarious energy there sparked a sudden idea. Rebecca took extensive notes on her phone, deciding to flesh out her earlier improvised song into a full number to capture the vibe of the faire.

Afterward, they all left the seating in front of the stage and headed toward the food court. The sound of drums diverted their attention along the way and they searched for its source. A small gathering of belly dancers circled on a stretch of open lawn. Rebecca began nodding her head in time with the drum beat, but the motion stilled as she studied the trained and toned muscles undulating beneath the nearest dancer's skin. The woman stood out among her peers as not only being adept at the style but possessing a kind of theatrical charisma. She noticed her new audience and winked.

Rebecca tugged off her troubadour's hat and fanned herself. "Damn, that level of confidence is sexy."

Eventually, watching half a dozen stomachs reminded them of their rumbling own. With some reluctance, they finally moved along. At last, it was time for their much-anticipated lunch. Scott immediately purchased his coveted turkey leg and ale, both of which he enjoyed while the others mulled over their dining options. As they scanned the stands, the girls spied a large kiln not far away and recognized a familiar dish in the shadows.

Rebecca pressed a hand to her middle. "Okay, I know it's not the kind of thing you can only get at the faire, but I need that pizza in me."

"Seconded." Tommy joined his honorary sister in staring at the melting cheese.

Once everyone had a plate, they found a place to sit at one of the wooden tables. Paula dusted some of the powdered sugar from the funnel cake off her fingers with a napkin and leaned toward Heather, who was stationed diagonally across from her.

"So, I haven't seen you much since fall break ended. How's grad school going?"

"The marine biology coursework combined with the kind of work that gives me money is kicking my ass but, like, in a good way. Especially since so much of it involves trips to the beach."

"I really admire you for going back, and for finding an area of study that would let you take so many fun field trips," Paula praised.

Valencia caught Heather's eye and beamed. "Well-played, professor."

While everyone ate, they unfolded the map again atop their table. They scanned the times for where each person wanted to go between noon and dusk when the event would close. A second-half schedule was established and they prepared to seek out the first stop. Before doing so, however, Paula opened her phone's camera for a picture. Rebecca rounded everyone else up for the photo.

"Prithee, gather ye round the magic picture box. Lady Proctor wouldst appreciate the opportunity to capture our likeness and preserve the memory."

They wrapped their arms around each other and leaned into frame, looking respectably at home before a backdrop of other costumed faire-goers. Paula showed them all the end result before turning it back to herself and grinning at the image. "Perfect."

First on the listed activities was the archery contest. Heather rarely had an occasion to utilize her champion level skills as a bowman, so this chance was too good to skip. The competitors formed a line before their targets.

"Make ye ready!" the announcer cried. "Draw! Aim! Loose!"

Heather's shot found its mark and embedded in the bullseye. Her companions clapped and whooped.

Rebecca watched her nock the following arrow and line it up for release. "She's got a whole Keira Knightley in Princess of Thieves look going for her today."

The second arrowhead pierced a hair's breadth from the first.

"I think it's kinda doing it for me."

Valencia nodded. Her eyelids crinkled at the corners while she regarded Rebecca with curiosity. "Are you having some sort of Renaissance awakening?"

"TBD. Check back in with me later. Kinsey scale rating may need an update."

Heather’s final arrow was dead center. The announcer declared her the winner and the visitors from West Covina alarmed everyone nearby with the shouts that erupted from them. They surged forward to embrace and congratulate her. Heather awkwardly allowed herself to be jostled by her circle of friends. She exuded discomfort but, when they all formed a group hug, she did not squirm away.

After that landslide victory, next up was a demonstration with a trebuchet. The impressively tall apparatus cut through the air and launched pumpkins at a makeshift castle wall. Tommy was ecstatic. He fished out his phone to record a video. "Brendan would love this. I've gotta send it to him."

At the mention of her eldest son, Paula's lower lip protruded sympathetically. "Do you miss your big brother knight, squire?"

Tommy tried to feign indifference, but the shift of his shoulders couldn't hide the expression that flickered across his face. "A little, I guess."

"Aww, pumpkin," Paula cooed. She hooked him toward her with one arm and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Me, too."

"Hey, careful with the mom smooches," Tommy cautioned. "Girls might not talk to me if they see I've already got a lipstick mark on my face."

Paula licked her finger and wiped off the traces. The boy allowed the assistance with resignation. "Okay, yeah, I did sorta set myself up for that one," Tommy muttered.

Somewhere in the crowd, a recognizable voice caught their attention.

"Just a minute, Amari. It's Agila's turn. Baba can't hold both of you on his shoulders at the same time. Somebody might fall... most likely me."

Paula stood on tiptoe and waved. "Sunil! Sunil, over here!"

Rebecca heard the name and slumped. "Great. This guy."

Sunil wove his way toward them, holding one of his daughters’ hands on each side. "Why, hello! Fancy meeting you here!"

He drew up short when he spotted Rebecca. "Bunch."

Rebecca arched her eyebrows. "Odhav."

"So, how are you liking the RenFaire so far?" Paula asked, interrupting the showdown.

"We're having a blast. The girls rode the giant unicorn. They said it would've been better if it were a pegasus but, hey, next best thing, right? We've caught three shows already. Really resurrects the old acting bug. And I'm still on a shopper's hunt for a crystal chalice with a palace. As we all know, it 'holds the brew that is true,' and I could really use the pick-me-up after four hours of bickering toddlers." Sunil chuckled at his own humor. Paula weakly attempted to do the same, lost.

Rebecca snapped to attention at the reference. Unable to help herself, she interjected, "Yeah, those can be pretty fragile. You might be better off getting a vessel with a pestle."

Surprised, but pleasantly so, Sunil's expression warmed. "You've seen The Court Jester."

"Oh my gosh, yes!" Rebecca's eyes went comically wide with fervor. "I've been talking about it all day. I must've watched that at least twenty times as a kid."

"How could you not? It's a classic."

Sunil gleefully launched into another quote. "'What are you loo-loo-looing about?’”

Rebecca was ready with the rejoinder. "'Oh, I'm not loo-loo-looing, sire, I'm willow-willow-wailing.'"

Sunil responded with a kingly wave of dismissal. "'All right, all right. Willow away, willow away.'"

They cackled.

"Dear God," Paula murmured, but she was visibly grateful her usually adversarial friends were getting along.

"There are two of them," Valencia joked affectionately.

Sunil rubbed his hands together. "Listen, we were about to track down that lesson on how to do a courtly dance. Would all of you like to join us?"

This proposal was met with general agreement (although Heather required a little additional convincing to accept the prospect of participation). They reached the designated area just as instructions began. Most of the dance took part in a large group but, for the small section where those involved were expected to break off into pairs, they planned ahead for who would dance with whom. The combinations ultimately turned out to be Paula and Scott, Heather and Valencia, Tommy with both Amari and Agila, and - in a truce that would've been inconceivable prior to that instant - Rebecca and Sunil.

As all the gathered dancers moved in a great circle, Rebecca took the opportunity to look at each of her loved ones in turn. The chances to enjoy hours with everyone like this sometimes proved rare and difficult to orchestrate, but shared moments of laughter and fun such as these made it infinitely worth the effort.

She turned to Heather on her left and gave the other woman's hand a teasing squeeze. "Having a good time after all?"

"I'll live," Heather answered simply, but Rebecca knew her well enough to detect the truth beneath her nonchalance. "What about you? You've been sending us a pre-trip countdown for, like, a full month leading up to this. Is it holding up to the hype?"

"Hundo P," Rebecca replied. "Ugh, it works when Maya says it but I think there might be too much of a generational divide for me to pull that off. In other news, I might be bi?"

Heather's laugh huffed out on an exhale. "Congrats on figuring that out. Welcome to the club. Darryl will make you a t-shirt."

"Thanks. I'm gonna need your out-and-proud advice later to sift through this brand new information, but it feels like I'm onto something."

"Anytime."

"So, calendar date notwithstanding, has this been a good birthday?" Rebecca asked hopefully.

Heather's lips twitched. "I'd let you talk me into it again."

In time with the music, Rebecca twirled in a circle and her friends all blurred together in her vision. A soft smile spread across her face. She thought she could safely declare this day a win.

#CEG Writing By Me #crazyexvalentineexchange #imunbreakabledude

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