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#understanding completely what she can do and where she came from/that ahe created the upside down essentially
dylandrhodes · 2 years
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#ppl are so so critical of this season#like it wasnt perfect no#but i think its still a fantastic show#it highlights the values of friendship and bravery#i dont know why people wanted? or expected other characters to die such as steve/robin/nancy etc#max’s ‘death’ had the right impact it gives something for the kids to fight for- to get her back#opens a link to her and venca? theres lots of potential there#and how brave she was to do that to save her friends/town#and the way that highlighted her relationship with lucas such a powrful scene#and i hated eddies death ok sobbing but again it kinda made sense i hate to say it#like he died saving dustin and keeping the bats from the others#he chose to be brave and not hide and go out fighting#and ultimately it would have been hard to do much wirh his character if he lived right? he would have been arrested for those deaths#and he died helping get revenge for Chrissy#it was heartbreaking but also the emotion the ending of the season needed#idk i just am seeing so so much hate#but i feel like its positioned to give us a lot more in season 5#also i loved el’s progression this season#understanding completely what she can do and where she came from/that ahe created the upside down essentially#anyway lol dont hate me for this yall#there are def parts that could have been done better/needed better writing but#i also really love this show and think it gave us a lot considering the high stakes ending#im excited for the last 2 eps in season 5
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moonbeam-writing · 3 years
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Request: “sugino's childhood friend is the student council vp + #2 student. they like e/o but have been on bad terms ever since he dropped to 3-e. she didn't have friends besides him + her cousin maehara so she's sad about it but hides it under a new cold personality,, chairman coerces her into being a student-teacher at 3-e to help kill korosensei + her cold attitude causes problems w/ the class. what if she eventually befriends everyone + makes up with maehara but stays hostile towards sugino 🤔 tysm!” + “ah yes it's the sugino requester here! yes i would like it to have a happy ending :)) thanks so much, i'm looking forward to it!” + “oh yeah it's the sugino requester here again! sorry for the third ask but feel free to add any jealousy related elements 👀 i hope you enjoy writing <3”
— Reconnecting
๑ Requested by a lovely Anon! ♡
๑ Characters: Tomohito Sugino (Assassination Classroom)
๑ Quick Note: Hello, darling! Thank you so much for requesting this! I had a bunch of fun writing this, sorry if it’s a bit long or not 100% like the request, but I feel like I got the major stuff. I really hope you like it!
๑ Warnings: None, really. Just fairly angsty, though, as always, there’s hurt/comfort vibes and a happy ending. :)
๑ Word Count: 3,562
(Y/N) (L/N) considered herself to be at the top of the world.
They were exactly where they were supposed to be so far in her life, getting exactly what they wanted and what they aimed for from how much work they put in. (Y/N) may have been one step down from the very top, but they were more than willing to take the place they earned. They were the top girl in the entirety of Kunugigaoka Junior High and there was nothing more satisfying than knowing that, aside from her place on the student council, but even that wasn’t quite the same. High grades came with high status, and in a school as ruthless as this one, she loved nothing more than knowing that the fruits of her own labor were what were keeping her safe.
Granted, it was lonely at the top. No one really liked anyone at Kunugigaoka for the most part. Sure, there were friendships, but all of them seemed either fake or hanging on by a thread. The admiration of others like her or the principal’s son wasn’t all that real, either. That admiration became jealousy and envy in seconds. People were willing to do virtually anything and use almost anyone to keep their grades up. Anything to avoid getting transferred to 3-E, that is. You were doomed if you managed to drop down to the “End Class,” no one had ever heard a story of someone being sent there coming back. It was like a story made up to keep everyone in line, only it wasn’t a story. It was very, painfully real and the stories served their purpose.
     (Y/N) had once had friends with her. She still did to an extent, but it wasn’t the same. Or, at least, they didn’t think it was. There was her cousin, Maehara, and Sugino, her best friend. They were thick as thieves, though, E Class brought separation, putting up a barrier between herself and the boys. The barriers were different for each boy, though.
Maehara was family, close family at that. He was (Y/N)’s first and best friend in the universe. The added bonus of sharing blood, however, was what kept them close. The two had to attend family gatherings, meaning that even if their academic endeavors kept them apart, their personal lives weren’t going to get in their way, either.
     Sugino, however, was a friend. A friend without any family ties or any true reason to seek (Y/N) out, or at least, that’s what he had thought. (Y/N) left things fairly open when Sugino had to switch classes, completely putting her reputation on the line for him. They had always sent soft smiles and friendly winks his way when they passed each other on campus, but they never got any sort of response or reaction. It just created shame and embarrassment on both of their ends.
After a month or two, (Y/N) worked to make herself move on. They couldn’t forget him entirely, nor would she let herself, but they also acknowledged all of the variables that came with Sugino’s new situation. His world was essentially being turned upside down. Everything he had and had known before being shipped up the mountain was being taken away from him and changed. (Y/N) couldn’t even begin to understand what he was going through, and honestly, she didn’t want to. At this point, (Y/N) just wished things could go back to how they were. They missed their best friend, and they missed not feeling hurt by him.
It was only a matter of time until the universe pushed the two back together, though.
Despite being one of the best students and having absolutely nothing to worry about, (Y/N)’s stomach and heart dropped, they were called to the principal's office. (Y/N) wasn’t sure if there ever was or would be a point in time where the man didn’t scare her, but that was the least of her concerns at that moment. They could have been asked anything in that office. They could have been told anything in that office. Anything could have happened, and the worst part was that it likely couldn’t have been something she could share. Even if they wanted to, or it  was deemed that it was something they could share in the first place, but wasn’t sure they’d even have it in themself to. Even though Principal Asano paraded himself as some kind of borderline neutral and caring man, everyone knew that he was the exact opposite.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” (Y/N) fought the shake in their voice, but it wasn’t quite enough to get rid of it. She may have closed herself off after Sugino and Maehara left, but the man’s intimidation factor was something that couldn’t be ignored. It was all too intense and the dark appearance and atmosphere of the room did nothing to calm her nerves.
“I did.” His deep voice sounded almost cheerful, more than (Y/N) would have liked to hear. She would have preferred his rumbling monotone over this. “I have been doing some thinking recently and as it turns out, you’re the only one I can think of to handle this job.”
(Y/N) stared at the man in front of them curiously. They weren’t sure what he wanted, and they didn’t like that. The worst part, however, is that (Y/N) knew she wouldn’t have much of a choice. “Oh yeah?”
“Yes. I believe Class 3-E needs a bit of extra help.” (Y/N)’s stomach began to twist. “Unfortunately, I need my son to stay where he is, but you,” he paused, peering up at her from his desk, “you are a bit more flexible in regards to things like this. You help people all the time after all.” 
(Y/N) felt herself swallow heavily. There were so many possibilities of what could happen that they felt like they might not be able to cope. Sure, Maehara was there, but that seemed to be the only bright side. (Y/N) knew going up the mountain would be rough, and she wished she could find even the slightest bit of wiggle room to decline his so-called offer.
Asano, however, did not appreciate (Y/N)’s silence. He hated the obvious hesitance to answer even more. For someone in her position, (Y/N) seemed to have more resolve than he expected; others would have already given in with panicked compliance. He had noticed (Y/N)’s change over time, however, it made her the way she appeared; unmoving and closed off. Then he thought of his best bargaining chips. “You know people there, correct?”
“Almost everyone.” (Y/N) replied, not answering with what he wanted to hear on purpose. “I fear that not everyone would appreciate my presence, no matter how nice I am, though.” It was the truth and (Y/N) felt it needed to be said. It was a genuine concern and (Y/N) didn’t want to overstep; they would have every right to not like her and (Y/N) would never be able to blame them.
“I’m sure that’s not true. You have family in the E class. A cousin, correct?” 
“Yes, sir.” (Y/N) knew at this moment that he had officially backed them into the farthest corner he could.
“I’m sure he’ll love to see you.” His words were final; there was no getting out of this. “Now, there are a few things that will make this arrangement different.”
(Y/N) ignored the memory that wouldn’t leave them alone in the last few days. They hated that they let themself  be cornered that way and hated that they weren't too surprised even more. Kunugigaoka was corrupt and heavily classist, they knew that, but it was still wild to them. That was the environment they were growing up in, and because of the principal, it was arguably getting worse.
There were multiple things that (Y/N) had to face that morning that they weren’t ready for. All issues varied in their severity, but (Y/N) viewed all of them as something to worry about. Once (Y/N) thought of them, however, they noticed that their priorities may have been a bit skewed.
The strangest part that (Y/N) had to worry about was the main teacher of Class 3-E. The teacher, who was named Koro-Sensei by his students, was actually an alien. Not only that, but an alien that destroyed most of the moon and planned on doing the same to Earth. As much as (Y/N) wanted to ignore it, the gun and knife tucked into the waistband of their skirt and meeting a government agent absolutely destroyed that option.
There was also the class itself. (Y/N) once knew all of them and was even on good terms with almost all of them, but things definitely change once you’re booted off the main campus. (Y/N) was sure that no matter how nice she made sure to be to them that they wouldn’t accept any of it. She was considered top tier while they were nothing as soon as they got transferred. (Y/N) knew she couldn’t blame any of them for how they might feel or react to her.
Then, of course, there was Sugino. In (Y/N)’s mind, Sugino was the scariest thing about that day and their foreseeable future. Would he be even a little happy to see them? Would he talk to them at all now that (Y/N) was in his territory? It seemed dumb to (Y/N) that this was what got to them the most, but it was what it was. They had been inseparable, and now things were different, so wildly different. (Y/N) didn’t think she was ready.
(Y/N) let out a breath as they stood in front of the door to 3-E. She wasn’t sure if it was something that had been held in because of nerves or the trek up the mountain, but it helped remind them to breathe. They rolled her shoulders back and took another deep breath. (Y/N) could do this. If they could talk shit to the principal’s son’s face, they could face their old classmates and friends.
They knocked on the door, waiting for the ‘come in’ before moving. Carefully closing the door behind them, they quickly glanced between their peers and the being in front of them. Bewildered by the teacher didn’t even truly begin to describe what (Y/N) thought, but they decided it was a good start as they continued to stand awkwardly by the door, purposefully ignoring all of the eyes on them. There were only two people (Y/N) felt they could look in the eye and they were Maehara and Nagisa Shiota, a boy who they swore didn’t have a mean bone in his body and reciprocated (Y/N)’s kindness. The fact that (Y/N) felt like they couldn’t look at Sugino definitely didn’t get past them, but they were absolutely going to force themself to forget it for the time being.
“Ah! You must be Miss (L/N)! Welcome!” The alien enthusiastically greeted. It was almost overwhelming if (Y/N) was being honest.
“Uh, yes, hello.” (Y/N) felt bad about their feeble response, but that was all they could seem to say. Honestly, (Y/N) knew the experience was going to be something else, especially as time past and (Y/N) closed themself off to the world. Everyone in the building probably saw her as two-faced, they were sure of it. “Truth be told, I’m not sure why I’m here.” At this point, (Y/N) figured being honest was the best and only way to go about things. “I know it had something to do with being a tutor or student teacher or something, but I saw your guy’s test scores, none of you really have anything to worry about.”
“You’re probably here to help off him more than anything, (N/N).” Maehara laughed. “He doubts us so much.” He trailed off sarcastically.
(Y/N) was grateful for it; they felt like it took some of the pressure off of them. “Right. I mean, nothing was said about spy work or whatever, so I guess it could be literally anything else.” (Y/N) tried joking along, though they knew it didn’t land as well as they would have wanted.
“Right, well, it likely was for the assassination, so good luck! I’m Koro-Sensei and I wish you luck in killing me!” Koro-Sensei’s face changed and (Y/N) felt their stomach drop in dread. 
---
A few days had passed and things were going as smoothly as they could in the End Class. (Y/N) was definitely feeling the pressures that came with the new environment and couldn’t help but mentally commend everyone for how well they all seemed to keep up with everything. (Y/N) was admittedly rather shocked, though. Everyone seemed to warm up to her again, despite the clear change in her exterior. No one knew how the change came about, but they didn’t question it much, other than Karma who took a fair amount of joy in poking at (Y/N) every chance he got.
That being said, not everyone really interacted with (Y/N) if they didn’t have to, and she was more than okay with it. It did hurt, however, that Sugino was one of those people. (Y/N) wasn’t sure whether they were shocked or not, but it still left them with a weird sense of being hurt, despite how it was presented as indifference. That was their best friend, someone they considered to be their soulmate, platonic or otherwise, and now he wouldn’t even spare her a glance.
(Y/N) was torn between wanting to move on and wanting to fight. They knew that Sugino was the only one who could truly change his mind, but (Y/N) still held hope that their bond could be repaired. That hope only grew as time went on and (Y/N) spent more time in 3-E with everyone. (Y/N) felt as though they could feel that Sugino still felt something towards her and hoped that it was something positive, or at least neutral enough to talk to her a bit more than when he needed to.
To outsiders, (Y/N) could understand how some of it may have seen it as somewhat ridiculous or weird that she was still holding onto something like this, however, there were things that no one else knew about the situation. Funnily enough, that just so happened to be the majority of the details. The details, truly, were as clear as day if someone were to think about it for a moment, however, (Y/N) supposed it was the fault of anyone who misunderstood, not hers, and definitely not Sugino’s.
Whether anyone thought about it or not, Sugino’s transfer really wasn’t all that long ago. Just long enough for their mutual dread to set in and become part of their routines. It was a shame how quickly everything came about, but there was nothing either of them could have done about it. Neither of them were sure where they stood with the other.
Another seemingly obvious detail is that the two never said anything to the other about the situation. Not obviously, anyways. The news of someone going to the E Class had always been something that spread like a wildfire. Even though Sugino didn’t say it, he didn’t need to and (Y/N) only had words of comfort to offer. Sugino hadn’t wanted to hear it, though. He stormed away and (Y/N) was so shocked they couldn’t calm their mind enough to consider any of the possibly things he must have been feeling.
It was all a fiasco. There were other details, but they were far more miniscule compared to the others. After thinking about it, (Y/N) knew there were things that they were missing, things that they were sure that only Sugino was really aware of. He was the other half of this, after all. Much like how (Y/N) didn’t know what was going on in his mind, Sugino didn’t know what was going on in (Y/N)’s, and they weren’t even sure Sugino would ever want to know.
That Thursday afternoon, however, things were going to change. Much like when (Y/N) was called into Asano’s office, their world was going to shift once again, and drastically.
(Y/N) had assumed that if Tomohito Sugino were ever going to speak to them, it would be because Koro-Sensei needed him to, or because Maehara forced him to. When (Y/N) saw Sugino storming up to them like a man on a mission, they were sure that Maehara was behind whatever was about to come their way. Regardless, they weren’t going to take this opportunity for granted.
“Uh, (Y/N)?” His voice was hesitant, yet strict with nerves. The small, petty part of (Y/N) wanted to ignore him or seem uninterested, but it wasn't as simple as that. Mainly because (Y/N) couldn’t hide their interest, even though they wanted to.
“Hey, Sugino. What’s up?” 
“Not much.” He answered stiffly. “I was just wondering if we could talk for a minute?” (Y/N) nodded at the boy and followed him to a quieter place where the two could talk. 
(Y/N) wasn’t sure whether Sugino genuinely wanted to talk or he would have rather been anywhere else. It seemed almost as though Sugino were fighting himself; like he wasn’t fully allowed to embrace the fact that since they had become slightly reacquainted with each other, he had become more comfortable around them. Their situation seemed to get weirder and weirder every time (Y/N) thought about it, making her head spin. 
“So… It’s been a minute since we’ve spoken.” Sugino awkwardly started, trailing off and not daring to look (Y/N) in the eye. 
“Yeah, it has. I mean, you kinda ran off and never even looked at me afterward.” The hurt and slight bit of spite was obvious in their voice. She couldn’t help it; their issues were finally being addressed, and even though (Y/N) was going to be polite enough about her feelings and take any of his into account, she still wanted Sugino to be aware of how badly they were hurt because of his lack of communication. “I’m more than willing to hear you out, but I also hope you know that what you did hurt.”
Sugino nodded his head, finally looking at them. “Of course! And- And I didn’t mean for it to happen that way, really.” There was a brief pause before he continued. “When I got the news and when the word got around and stuff, uh, I was honestly kind of a wreck, but it didn’t really hit until later in the day when I saw you. I know that sounds bad, but like, it wasn’t your fault.”
(Y/N) almost wanted to laugh, to reach a comforting hand out onto his shoulder. Despite their time apart, it almost felt like nothing had changed. (Y/N) still felt the immediate need to show him their support, to make sure that he knew he still had someone unconditionally in his corner. Just sitting there and listening to what he had to say made it feel like any pain that was there didn’t exist, as though it had never been caused in the first place.
“I just- It was dawning on me how my life was ruined, and it bothered me that people spread it around so quickly and so easily. My life was officially over, and all of our classmates and so-called friends were just laughing about it!” He exclaimed. “I was so scared and so ashamed that I felt like I couldn’t face you. I guess, I was just scared that you were going to reject me.” He quieted himself down, letting his fists clench tightly. 
(Y/N) finally broke, resting their hand on top of the closer of his hands. “Sugino, I’m so sorry.”
“I know it’s dumb. You just mean so much to me that I was scared that you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I completely messed our relationship up, and I’m sorry. You mean a lot to me, (Y/N); that’s never changed and never will.”
A deep frown settled itself on both of their faces, their fingers now intertwined. The silence was heavy and thoughtful. Neither of them wanted the moment to end, however, they both wished for better circumstances. That being said, they were together and it felt like old times. By that logic, they were on good terms once again, at least to some degree.
“You’re dumb, Sugino.” (Y/N) laughed and gently bumped shoulders with the boy next to them, pulling a laugh from him too.
“So are you, (Y/N).” He answered back, finally letting a small smile rest on his lips. “Wanna go catch up over food?” Sugino sheepishly offered.
(Y/N) laughed, completely unsurprised. “Sure.” She laughed, pushing herself off the ground. They dusted themself off and held out a hand towards Sugino to pull him up, not letting go of his hand. “Let’s go.”
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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years
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April Contest Submission #3: Prism of White
Words: ca. 5,200 Setting: Modern AU Lemon: No CW: none
Light filtered through the window casting the room in a golden glow. Papers lay crumpled and torn on the coffee table and the floor beneath. Anna tossed her sketchbook on the table and threw her pencil next to it. Weeks passed and she still didn’t have another good idea for her next art piece. Her hands grasped a pillow on the couch beside her. Her freckled face buried in the soft cushion, a muffled groan joining the white-noise of the television in the background.
Art had been a passion of hers ever since her stubby toddler fingers first grasped that pack of cheap crayons. Her parents laid scrap paper out in front of her at the kitchen table. The adults left the room shortly after thinking little Anna would be occupied for a little more than five minutes.  Overjoyed with all the colors in the box, now strewn over the table some rolling to the floor, little Anna picked up the green and began to scribble in swirls and loops like any child does. Her mother came back ten minutes later to check on her and grab a cup of afternoon coffee. A gasp tore from her throat and her blue eyes widened at the site. The walls had been little Anna’s first canvas.
She laughed at the memory, the sound muffled by the pillow still pressed against her face. The scolding she received after that event lost to the feeling of joy at the colors swirling around her. Back then art had been carefree and fun. Now the blank pages in her sketchbook mocked her with that textured whiteness.
Twenty-one years of sketching, painting, throwing color on canvas’ of varying degrees, making a life out of it. A dream come true. One that would have been impossible if not from the support of her friends and family. One person in particular. Elsa.
Little Elsa could light up Anna’s world by merely stepping into the room. She used to be so very timid and quiet, often opting to hide in the corner with a book than engage with the other kids her age. Anna managed to pull her into their little games anyway.
As the two grew older their interests diverged slightly. They both found joy in the arts, joining in theater at school for fun, playing and listening to music (although their tastes differed vastly at times), and studying the history behind all forms of art. A bond formed and kept them close even when one started painting and sketching while the other used words to color with.
A writer’s search history and an artist’s eye left plenty for friends to laugh and grow concerned about.
Anna lifted her head from the pillow feeling someone fiddle with her twin braids. She smiled already knowing who it was behind her.
“What are you so distressed about?” Elsa hummed out sweetly. Her  eyes swept over the paper littered around and the discarded sketchbook. “Can’t think of a good idea?”
Anna groaned again and buried her head back in the pillow. Her reply came muffled and she knew Elsa wouldn’t be able to understand a word of it. This problem she had wasn’t that much of a big deal. Anna knew that. Every artist had periods where they couldn’t draw. An artblock as she so affectionately called it. But this felt different. She had ideas. The vision of what she wanted to draw sat crystal clear in her mind’s eye, but when she picked up the pencil each stroke on the page felt weighted. She knew what she wanted to put on the paper. She hated each stroke she made and the finished result. Weeks of this and the stress of not creating made her head spin. The ride she had been on had stopped with her sitting upside down unable to do anything.
The couch dipped beside her as Elsa sat down. Pale hands pulled the pillow Anna was secretly hoping would suffocate her until freckled cheeks and a pouty lip were visible. Anna whined and reached out for the cushion. Elsa held it out of reach ignoring the dark spot where Anna drooled on it.
“Ah-Ah,” Elsa wagged her finger. Anna’s shoulder slumped forward in despair. “You can get the pillow back and resume your little, um , whatever you were doing after you tell me what’s wrong.”
Sea-green eyes lowered to the open sketchbook, a frown settled on her lips. “I - I hate everything I make and it’s driving me crazy.”
Elsa set the pillow aside and shuffled closer to Anna. She gave her knee a reassuring squeeze and gently asked, “Is it one of your artblocks?”
Anna shook her head, braids swaying. “No, this is different. I know what I want to draw, I have the motivation to draw, but I can’t seem to like what I make. I hate the finished result, even if it looks how I wanted.” Her eyes glistened with frustrated tears, “It’s been like this for weeks and I’m going insane trying to fix it.”
Elsa cupped her cheek, running her thumb soothingly over the skin. Anna nuzzled into her palm, eyes fluttering shut at the coolness of her skin. “Anna,” she opened her eyes to see an amused smirk dancing on pink lips, a glint of humor dancing in blue eyes, “is this your first burnout?”
Her whole body stilled at the question. Burnout had been something she knew her artist friends over the internet talked about. How it could hit someone suddenly or slowly creep on through the years. The former could usually be seen coming and dealt with by short breaks, but the latter often crippled careers as it snuck in through the cracks undetected and infected everything slowly like a poison. Anna gasped lightly at the realization.
The ride she had been on for the majority of her adult life (granted it had only been 3 years since she graduated high school) was fast paced and constantly moving. She did not stop or get off, only urging it to move faster and faster. The need to create and improve outweighed any thought or concern the stress her body and mind were put under. She ignored all the signs, the warnings people told her to look for and now the stress had crushed her.
“What am I gonna do?” Her voice came out broken and unsure. Burnout was a completely foreign field for her. There was no map for her, no field guide to help her navigate through this problem. People mention taking breaks and stepping away from art for awhile to recharge, but that seemed impossible. How could Anna stop creating, when all she wanted to do was create?
“Is this new project for a client?” Elsa noticed the distress on Anna’s face and dropped her hand down from her cheek to grasp shaking ones.
“No, it’s one I plan to sell, or have prints made for my shop.”
Elsa nodded, “Okay. And do you have any client work lined up for the month?”
Anna answered in the negative. She had started a new system for her works where certain months she decided not to take on any client work. It was an attempt not to be too overwhelmed working on custom pieces that allowed her the freedom to work on her own as well. The system worked fairly well until this burnout happened. At least it happened now instead of when she had to work on pieces for clients.
“Okay, okay we can definitely work with this,” she breathed out a plan already forming in her mind. She knew Anna wouldn’t take a break willingly, that wasn’t her style. She would draw and paint until her hands fell off and even then she’d learn to use her feet instead. Nothing would stop her, not even the end of the world. The complete opposite of Elsa who procrastinated her own projects till motivation was high or the deadline approached. She often wondered how they never drove each other crazy doing things so differently. Instead of finding a reason she just blamed it on love. It was better not to question it anyway.
“Anna,” she turned and faced the younger woman determinedly, prepared for protestation, “do you trust me?”
Anna cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Of course I do, silly. It’s part of why I married you.”
Elsa smiled and held her tongue to keep from commenting. That experience would be one she would never forget. She at her wife, eyes bright and said,
“Then you’ll understand what I’m about to do.”
Anna’s gut twisted in apprehension. She trusted Elsa with her life, but the twinkle in pale blue eyes told her not all of this would be a pleasant experience.
—-
“Anna, what color is the sky?”
From her position in the passenger seat of the car Anna scowled, her eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to fall back asleep. Elsa refused to let her in on the plan the day before, only telling her to pack a days worth of clothes and food and then promptly took all her art supplies and locked them inside a large chest. She never quite figured out why they had a large empty chest lying around and when she asked Elsa the older girl shrugged saying something about secrets.
“What.” Anna grumbled confused at the question and irritated at being woken up at three in the morning and rushed out of the house.
Elsa glanced at her from the driver’s seat. “What color is the sky?” She turned her attention back to the road, very much awake and relaxed. The half empty cup of coffee sitting in the cup holder helped.
“What kind of question is that? The sky is blue!” Anna twisted over and leaned her head on the window, arms folded across her chest.  Elsa still had yet to tell her where they were going and only mentioned a three hour car ride. That left plenty of time for her to catch up on sleep if her wife would let her.
“No, not - “ Elsa laughed at herself, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I meant what color is the sky right now?”
Anna cracked one eye open and grimaced at the passing street light that blinded her. “Black,” she stated matter-of-factly. Elsa hummed a smile on her face. She let Anna sleep the rest of the way, picking up and sipping her coffee. The low songs of the radio filling the silence in a quiet peace. She didn’t care for the station, but it was one of Anna’s favorites. The little things would make the difference on this trip.
Barely any time had passed, that’s what it felt like to Anna anyway, before a hand on her shoulder gently shook her awake. “What is it now,” she sighed tiredly and shuffled further into the car door. When she agreed to whatever Elsa had planned, losing sleep hadn’t even crossed her mind. She knew she was being unfair to her wife. Elsa only wanted to help. The stress of her burnout had taken its toll without consent and Anna wanted nothing more than to curl up in a corner and sulk. Sleep was the closest she could get right now, but the woman driving had other plans.
“What color is the sky now,” she asked eagerly. Her pale hand fell away and gripped the steering wheel again.
Anna squinted at the light outside. The night had faded to be greeted by the light of the sun just peeking over the horizon. Reds and oranges bled into pale blue as the orb of yellow and white ascended slowly. Any other day the she might have appreciated seeing the sunrise, she might have stared at the way the light shone and glistened along Elsa’s skin, bathing her in rays of gold. But it only annoyed her at having the same question asked in place of sleep. Still she answered,
“Red.”
Her eyes closed again with the plan to catch more sleep. Elsa didn’t bother her after that. She sipped her fresh cup of coffee, having stopped for gas before the sunrise. Anna grumbled under her breath adjusting to get comfortable in her seat again. Pink lips turned up at the corner in amusement. Anna may be grumpy beyond belief this morning and she knew it was her doing. The outcome of this trip will be worth it. Elsa knew it, could feel it in her bones. She could only hope Anna didn’t throw her in the lake as payback when they got there.
Elsa smirked watching, pulling out a pair of sunglasses and slipping them on. The day was only beginning. The coffee singed her tongue as she took another sip.
If Anna did throw her in the lake, she made sure to have plenty of jokes ready.
Gravel crunched under the tires as the car pulled off the main road. The road itself wasn’t too bad in terms of a drive. Anna woke up quietly glancing around at the trees and greenery around them. She said nothing to tell Elsa she was awake and continued to stare out the window. The sight felt familiar, she knew this place but couldn’t quite care enough to place it. Sleep still clouded mind and even if it was Wednesday she liked to sleep in late and stay up late instead. This whole early to bed and early to rise business wasn’t for her.
A light chuckle from her left told Anna all she needed to know. “There’s hot chocolate for you since you’re not the biggest fan of coffee.” Elsa never took her eyes off the road and merely motioned to the cup holder between them.
“Thanks.” Anna took the cup nearly dropping it. No protective sleeve saved her from burning fingers, not even the paper cup itself. “Geez, why’s it so hot!” She glared at her sister.
“Didn’t know how long you were going to stay asleep so I asked them to make it extra hot.”
“Extra hot,” Anna guffawed, “This cup feels like it came straight out of Orodruin itself! You could have got me a protective sleeve for it or something!”
“I didn’t know how long you were going to sleep!” Anna folded her arms at Elsa’s response, “Besides, you always get annoyed at the sleeves opting to burn your fingers anyway.”
“Yes, but the cups are never that hot!”
Elsa only smiled.
The car slowed and stopped with a slight jolt. Anna hadn’t touched her drink again still waiting for it to cool down from Mount Doom level temperatures. She figured out why this place had seemed so familiar. Her parents used to take her camping out here toward the end of summer, always running around the lake and sometimes taking a ferry over to the small island.
“I grabbed us a backcountry permit if you wanted to stay away from the normal campsites.” Elsa held up the piece of paper before tucking it into her jacket pocket. Anna hummed her agreement and stretched in her seat.
“I’m gonna find the bathroom then we can hike to wherever.” She ducked out of the car, breathing in the fresh air. A warm feeling of nostalgia washed over her at the familiar sight. She hadn’t come back to this park in years. Anna walked across the parking lot toward the public restroom. Coming back to the lake hadn’t even crossed her mind. It’s almost sad really. To forget about a place she once loved so deeply, have it take up a corner of her mind as a memory she kept but never thought about.
She turned the faucet off and shook stray water drops from her hands, wiping the remaining wetness on her jeans. Anna never trusted the automatic air dryers.
When she arrived back to the car, Anna bit back a bark of laughter. Elsa had strapped each and every pack and bag to herself and looked overloaded, but all too eager like a puppy. She smiled broadly at Anna and handed her the much cooler cup, “Come on, let’s go! I know of the perfect spot!”
Anna took the cup, her shoulders shaking as she held in her laughter.
“Wait, Elsa. Let me carry some things.” Elsa paused mid-step and tilted her head. All the coffee had gone to her brain in the most adorable way. “How did you even manage to hold all the bags, even mine?” Anna pointedly looked at the deep green duffle bag with a bright orange patch on the side.
“I played a lot of tetris as a kid.” She shrugged but gave Anna two of the bags anyway.
Anna adjusted the strap of a bag on her shoulder. “Alright, now show me this perfect spot.”
The blonde grinned and grabbed Anna’s hand practically dragging her along toward the trail and into the bush. Anna could only keep up and pray her hot chocolate didn’t spill.
—-
Anna had to admit the spot Elsa had picked was perfect. A little spot hidden behind dense shrubbery. Well off the path and if someone did make it this far the thorn bushes were certainly a discouragement. She knew she’d be picking the sharp thorns out of her clothes for a while and if it weren’t for the view and the feeling of peace she’d make Elsa do it without a second thought. Anna’s had her second thought and is still intent on making Elsa do the work.
“Nice view, right?” Elsa wiped the dirt off her hands stepping over to Anna. She had finished setting up the tent and decided to see what was keeping her wife. The view itself looked over the entirety of the lake and the mountains surrounding it.  The trees swayed in the breeze.
“It’s beautiful.” Anna tucked a piece of hair back into place. Elsa stepped up beside her. They stared at the scene in silence. A sense of peace forming around them. Anna closed her eyes listening to the birds singing in the trees and the wind rustling the branches. The smell of the air and the sun on her skin eased the tension in her shoulders she didn’t realize had been there. Anna felt free like she could step off the overlook and just fly. Elsa smiled at the content look on her face.
“Anna,” the red-head hummed and turned to face her, “what color is the sky?”
The question had her sighing exasperatedly. How many times would she ask that damned question. It didn’t make sense. She had answered it twice already. Inhaling deeply, Anna decided not to let this ruin the moment. She looked up at the sky, fluffy clouds dotting the expansive space.
“Blue. It’s blue.”
Elsa made no comment. Anna would have yelled at her but the pure love in pale blue eyes killed the thought before it formed. She found herself smiling back and shaking her head lightly. “You’re lucky I love you so much.”
Elsa chuckled, “I know. Now come on, let’s go exploring a bit.”
Anna followed eagerly. Exploring she could do.
—-
Night life in the forest seemed impossibly loud compared to the day. Anna didn’t mind much. She found the noise comforting in a way. All the little life coming out with the safety of darkness. Comfortable now that the sun has gone and they can hide in the shadows of the night. She could understand it. The night offered a sort of peace the day could not. She loved the sun, loved the hustle and bustle of day life, but the night hit differently. She closed her eyes, a soft smile on her lips. The day’s activities replayed in her mind’s eye.
After running around, revisiting old trails and memories and making some new ones, the two women sat around a little fire. Anna made Elsa pick out all the thorns and burrs while she roasted marshmallows. While Elsa didn’t agree with s’mores before dinner she let it slide this once.
They relaxed after that, Anna rigged a stick with fishing gear and went fishing. She didn’t catch anything. She came back soaking wet and Elsa only raised a brow. She changed into some dry clothes and sat by the fire to get warm. Elsa turned from her book then, a cheeky grin on her face and said,
“You know I love it when you -” Anna smacked her before she should finish.
Now they lay peacefully staring up at the stars.
“Anna,” Elsa started in the quiet. Anna hummed in acknowledgment before her mind jump started back to nearly every quiet moment previously,
“You better not ask me what color the sky is or I swear to god you will find yourself at the bottom of the lake!”
The crickets chirped.
“What hue doth the heavens above appears to thine viewing orbs?”
Anna laughed. She laughed loud and hard. She knew Elsa would find a way to rephrase the question the second she threatened her, but she never expected her to phrase it like that. She rolled onto her side and clutched her stomach from the force of her laughter. “I-I can’t -” she wheezed, tears pricking the corners of her eyes, “I can’t breath.”
“You should have let me ask the question normal then.” The cheekiness in her voice had Anna swatting blindly behind her. Her hand connected with nothing but air.
“Fine, this is the last time I’m answering that stupid question,” Anna finally said after she stopped laughing and caught her breath. She rolled back to look at the sky and exhaled deeply a smile on her face, “Black, the sky is black.”
“Wrong.”
Anna propped herself up on her elbow. Wrong. The first response back to her answers and it was to tell her, Anna, that she answered wrong.
“What, how can I be wrong? Are you seeing the same sky I’m seeing?” Anna grit her teeth ready to fully argue her point.
“No, no calm down, feisty pants. Right now you could argue it’s black, or a very deep blue.”
“Then how am I wrong?!”
Elsa kept her gaze on the sky. “I asked you three four times today what color the sky was. Only two of the answers were the same. Can you explain that?” “The sky changes colors, you numpty.”
“So what color is the sky then if it changes?”
Anna didn’t have an answer to that. Elsa turned to face her, the moonlight making her blue eyes glow in the night.
“What color do you say the sky is then,” Anna asked, moving closer to Elsa. The night breeze had a bit of a chill, but she didn’t feel like getting a jacket. Her arm brushed against her wife’s.
“If you asked me what color the sky is, anytime of day or night, I’d tell you it’s white. I know it’s crazy, but think about it. In general people say the sky is blue, but it’s not always blue. You said it yourself, the sky changes colors, so why is it blue then?” She raised a hand and traced along various constellations as she spoke. “Is it because that’s the color we see it as mostly. Blue during the day? The history behind it is actually fascinating, but I won’t go into that. But the sky can be any color depending on when you look. Black, dark blue, orange and red, yellow and pink, purple and light blue, even green. The sky isn’t just one color or one shade. It’s all of them all the time, we just only see what the light shows us. That’s why I say it’s white. White reflects all colors, the sky cycles through the colors based on a bunch of scientific stuff that I’m a bit too tired to get into. I didn’t really prepare to get into that bit anyway.” she laughed at herself.
Anna lay in silence. She never really thought about it like that.
“But why white, why not black?”
Elsa sucked in a small breath before answering, “Black is the absence of colors. If the sky was black that’s all we’d see. A black hole sucking the colors away and leaving nothing behind but darkness. That’s why it’s white and not black.”
“Geez, that took a depressing turn.”
Elsa hummed and entwined her fingers with Anna’s. “Think of it as a prism. The sun shines through and casts the colors fresh and new through the day.”
“A blank canvas.” Anna found herself mumbling aloud. A blank canvas to be painted each day in the same ways that vastly differed if you looked hard enough. The subtle hues shifting day to day, the contrast of reds and oranges against purples and blues. All of it spinning endlessly in a cycle, a prism of color splattered across a canvas of white that never is seen as white.
The two remained watching the stars for a bit longer. The little dots of color splattered across the dark sky. Almost a reverse of my freckles. Anna mused to herself. The crisp air raised goosebumps on her arms.
Anna went to sleep that night, snuggled in her wife’s arms, feeling so refreshed and full of love she thought it might overflow. And it did. Her emotions flowed over in little drops that ran down her cheeks and she whispered over and over how much she loved Elsa. In turn with each ‘I love you’ a kiss was placed on her head, her cheek, her lips, and her body squeezed a bit tighter.
The white sky, painted with the color of night, left them to rest peacefully. The moon watching over them.
The trunk slammed shut and all the bags and trash were loaded in. Not nearly as neatly as before but as long as it wasn’t falling out Anna didn’t care. She awoke buzzing with renewed energy ready and eager to get back to work. Her burnout long forgotten. The three hour car ride didn’t seem so long even though Anna sat wide awake the entire trip. Elsa would probably need a day to recover from the amount of talking Anna did in that small time. Maybe a new book and quiet day in a coffee shop or a day spent curled up in her bed with nothing but mindless games to entertain herself with. Anna made a note to thank Elsa for forcing her out for a day, whatever she wanted.
Anna went to work the moment she stepped through the doorway. Pencil marks flew across the page in hurried fashion almost as if the vision would fade before she could get it down. Supplies were strewn out over the kitchen table and counter tops as Anna fell into what Elsa called ‘The detonation zone’. It was a mess, but also the time and place where Anna seemed to get the most work done.
Guess I’m not cooking. Elsa thought and picked up the phone. She was kinda in the mood for pizza anyway.
Pale blue eyes watched from where she leaned against the wall as the blur of auburn worked in a frenzy. Her movements were both hurried and agonizingly slow to preserve the details in a way only Anna managed to do. A mesmerizing sight she could watch for hours if not for the delivery man ringing her doorbell.
She made sure Anna knew of the food sitting in the living room.
“Okay, thank you!” Came the reply from the kitchen. Elsa chuckled and shook her head taking her own slice or two of pizza. She disappeared into their shared room for the rest of the evening. The one day trip seemed to have worked in Anna’s favor. Elsa made the mental note to schedule more day trips once in a while.
Time ticked by and Anna didn’t even notice. The pizza had gone cold and the sunlight faded away. The brush in her hand was set in the water cup for the last time.
“There.” Anna sat back finished. She smiled at the creation in front of her leaving it to dry as her stomach made known it’s need for food. The clock read late into the night, or early into the morning, depending on how you look at it. Maybe setting an alarm for food and breaks would be a good idea in the future. She decided it’d be worth a shot if only to save her from a stiff back at the end of the day.
Her paint stained hands grabbed a cold slice of pizza and promptly inhaled it followed by three more. The kitchen sat in a disastrous mess and the urge to put off cleaning up until the morning hit hard. Anna considered cleaning up the worst part about doing art. Elsa would likely clean up for her in the morning since she always woke up first. Anna knew that and decided not to let that happen. As much as Elsa said she didn’t mind and that’s what she signed up for by marrying her, Anna wouldn’t have it. Not after what she’d done for her the past day, or really since they first-started dating.
Anna turned the faucet on, warm water cleaning her stained hands, and she began the cleanup.
It wasn’t until around four in the morning that she finally headed to bed. The bedroom door creaked softly. Elsa snored softly, curled on her side snuggling a pillow. The sight made Anna fall in love with her all over again. Anna would never get tired of seeing her wife in such a peaceful and vulnerable state. Gently, she climbed into bed beside her.
“I love you.” she whispered and kissed Elsa’s cheek. Elsa let go of the pillow at the contact and fully snuggled against her wife. Anna wrapped her arms around her and kissed her softly again.
“I love you so much.”
Elsa woke to gentle rays of sun dancing across her face. Untangling herself from Anna she stepped outside of the room. She paused halfway closing the door and looked on fondly at the sleeping mess of her wife.
The kitchen was spotless, save for the canvas resting on the table. Even the sink was clean, supplies neatly drying on the rack where they were supposed to be. A smile graced her lips.
The coffee pot sputtered to life as it began brewing. It was only nine o’clock and Anna likely wouldn’t be up for another few hours. Being your own bosses had their perks. The brown liquid steamed as she poured it into a plain ceramic mug. The rich scent very much welcome this morning.
Anna would always scold her for drinking too much coffee. The thought brought another smile to her face. She really loved Anna and all that came with her.
Coffee in hand Elsa approached the canvas on the kitchen table. She made sure to stay for enough back that if something drastic happened her coffee would not stain the creation. She rounded the table and the sight made her pause. The colors and detail splattered across it showed just how much that camping trip had meant to her.
“Oh Anna,” her eyes lined with overflowing emotions as she took in the painting. “You’re still full of surprises.”
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tomsrebeleyebrow · 4 years
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hi! i just wanted to say that i love ur writing! and quite a fan! can i request the reader asking peter to take care of her pet turtle bc she’s going out of town to visit some family? and peter hesitates bc of his spider-man duties but soon just falls in love the readers pet turtle and doesn’t wanna give him back. “peter, give him back” “no🥺”
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A/N: okay. wait. CUTENESS LEVEL EXTREM! ABOART! ABOART I SAID!! 😱😱😱 alright jokes aside, this is the most adorable request i’ve ever had and it got me soft af 🥺💞🥺💞 so thank you so much for this but also for your kind support, my dear 😳❤️ stay safe, darling 💖💗
‘Stay safe, Cheer up’ blurb event
Peter was confused. And when Peter Parker was confused, you knew something was really going on in his head of his.
The boy was currently sitting on the couch in the living room, the apartment completely silent. His elbows resting on his knees, upper body slightly leaning forward, Peter’s eyes were glued on the rectangle terrarium on the coffee table right in front of him, not saying a single word. Just looking straight at it. Thinking.
Peter let a long sigh out.
“On all domestic animals possible, (Y/N) chose you.”
Silence.
“I’ll be honest, alright: I’ve seen more active and entertaining pets than you.”
Silence.
“... Why am I even talking to you, in the first place?”
The little animal stopped its “wild” parkour inside the glass terrarium to, somehow, look at Peter. Their eyes locked for a few seconds before the teenage boy exhaled once again, the muscles in his neck relaxing to let his head fall forward.
Yesterday evening, you hurriedly stumbled over yours and Peter’s shared apartment after your classes, your boyfriend already immersed in his homework, because your brother-in-law sent you a text explaining your sister went into labour. Frantically, you tried to gather some clothes and random toiletries’ essential in a travelling bag to leave right away and hopping to arrive in your hometown a few hours later that same night by car. While doing so, Peter couldn’t really place a word as he knew how much your older sister was so dear to you, also because you being an aunt got you all excited and so stressed at the same time. And right before you left, Peter kissing you goodbye by your car and telling you to drive safely, you remembered something at the last minute.
“Ah! Pete, please, don’t forget to take care of Dollie while I’m away!!”
Dollie. Your tiny tortoise. Your pet with who Peter was currently “having a chat” with.
Thanks the lords, Peter was relieved to have an organised girlfriend because you created a little list of things to do or not with Dollie on a daily basis, right after you bought her. At least, the boy kind of knew what he was supposed to do (or not) with that strange pet of yours.
It was not like Peter disliked Dollie. Well, he didn’t really like her either, as he was completely unaware that having a tortoise as a pet was even possible until the day you came back home with the said animal. You told Peter you grew up while having animals around since your youngest age, but still... a tortoise. And what about his Spider-Man’s duties? Even if recently, the neighbourhood was rather quiet and calm, Peter needed to do his regular patrols just in case.
Anyway, Peter didn’t really have a choice. He had to take care of Dollie, for you. Seems like Spider-Man will take a break.
“Okay, time for you to get some exercise done.”
Delicately - but still awkwardly, Peter took the tiny reptile in his hands to put it back on the ground, next to his feet.
“Come on, go explore the world that is the living room, I guess?”
As if understanding his words, Dollie started to move around at her own pace which was not the fastest of all. Peter kept an eye on her as he decided to watch some tv to get some better distraction.
Some time later, Peter felt something bumped on the side of his foot. And as he lifted his back from the couch to see what that was, he couldn’t help a light smile making its way at the corner of his mouth as Dollie just started bumping her tiny pointed head on Peter’s foot.
“What’s going on, there?” chuckled the teenage boy.
His eyes went to his left wrist where he read the hour on his digital watch.
“Damn, already past seven!? You must be hungry, right missy?” asked Peter while slowly standing, fists resting on his hips. “To the kitchen we go!”
* * * *
What a weird feeling it was to be an aunt for the first time. But still exciting and critically emotional in the best way possible.
After spending three days at your sister’s to finally meet the new addition to the family, your visit ended as fast as it started due to your exams approaching. But you still promised your sister to come visit again for your next holiday, probably with Peter this time.
Finally back, you locked your car and got up to yours and Peter’s apartment, climbing two stairs at the time as you still missed your boyfriend and was excited to show him all the pictures you took of your newborn niece.
Unlocking the door of the flat, your eyes instantly fell onto Peter’s brunette hair as he was sitting on the couch.
“Peter! I’m back!”
“Welcome back, dear! We’re here!” replied Peter, cheerfully.
You left your travel bag in the entrance to tidy later and walked towards the living room where your boyfriend was. When you arrived behind the couch to kiss him upside down, you noticed a tiny guest sitting on top of his thighs.
“Oh, hi Dollie! What is she doing here?”
“I was feeding her some apple before you arrived” said Peter, his attention going back to the little reptile.
You watched the two beings interact together for some seconds, not saying a word, but mostly surprised at Peter’s unexpected behaviour towards your tortoise.
“Looks like you became good friends in the end” you giggle, lightly bumping your head with Peter’s, still looking at Dollie enjoying her apple slice. “Come say hi to mama, Dollie doll!”
As you were about to take Dollie in your hands, Peter moved the tortoise away from your grasp. Surprised, you glanced at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows.
“First, let her slowly finish her apple or she’ll get awful later” noted Peter, quite seriously.
“Excuse me? Let me-”
“Nope.”
“Peter, what in the world-”
“Later, I said.”
“Peter Benjamin Parker, give me back MY tortoise now!”
“Nope.”
Later that same evening, you understood that your nerdy boyfriend definitely grew attached to that tiny reptile he used to avoid at the beginning.
The day ended with you and Peter laying on your bed, with snacks and fluffy covers, catching up with a series with little Dollie resting on top on you guys, resting after another eventful day of her tortoise’s life.
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Text
𝒞𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹𝒽𝑜𝑜𝒹 𝒲𝑜𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈 𝐼
Headcannon/Shortstory: The Candy Shop: Lemonhead!
How you met Toga + started a ‘relationship’!
•  Warnings: Blood (duh), Violence, Stalking  •
Fluff (🍯) [’fluff’ in Toga’s definition]
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❤️️ Reader Type: Feminine (She/Her/They/Them), Any race, is 15! ❤️️
Near the busted buildings decorated with broken glass and rats, was a little shop that sold candy, “Childhood Wonders” This shop is run by a grandfather that would do anything for his family. Though, with pesty kids stealing his candies, business is being put in financial turmoil. The local kids have been stealing POUNDS of candy every week. However, what can a 68-year-old do? Call his grandchild for help of course! He had to bribe them with a few bucks, but she’s here now, and armed with a broom! 
But...they might have a weakness for blondes...
-Meeting her:
🩸 After you bop the stubborn kids on the head with the broom, they finally dropped the candy and ran! Like the cowards they are!
🔪 However, if you thought the rounds of kids were done...ya’ might wanna recheck the left side of your brain, because you might need to bop common sense back into it.
🩸 After collapsing into the chair behind the counter, the sound of glass shattering energizes you up again! You get the half-functional broom and rush over there.
🔪 The blonde slowly turns around with smeared chocolate around her lips and hands. After you tighten the grip of your thief-repellent-weapon, you STRIKE!
🩸...out. You struck out...ya’ might of got your shit rocked...this chick has strength!
🔪 You cover your stomach to feel a wet spot developing, red and dripping onto the floor...ah...uh oh. Yup, issa knife.
🩸 Your heart is racing, yet you don’t and can’t back down! This is your livelihood! This shop has helped the whole family, plus your grandpa isn’t here right now. So, someone has to handle this situation!
🔪 Luckily, you have a quirk! You ‘disappear’. She is swiping all around her now. You run around her and strike!
🩸 You both paint the floors with smooshed chocolates and rolling gumballs. The place is trashed, as you both fight. The bastard even bites you a couple of times!
🔪 After a while, you both are bruised and bleeding, yet she doesn’t give up! However, you don’t really have a choice but to collapse.
🩸 She stares down at you and blanks a couple of times, before dropping a lot of candy onto your face. She still takes a couple of pieces of candies though.
🔪 You push yourself up enough to hold onto her legs and dig into her legs with your nails. She will tumble down a bit and try to kick you.
🩸 FINALLY, THE COPS APPEAR FROM THE ALARMS IN THE STORE. You release her as the cops rush into the building. She rushes out the building through the back door.
🔪 Some cops will put pressure on the cuts and gashes. Your grandpa was called and you were mindfucked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-Acquaintances:
🩸 Now, weeks have passed and you were home recovering. Though, with your luck, your grandpa was sick. So, you stepped up and took care of the shop again. However, you came prepared! Yes, even you use knives!
🔪 After a few minutes, a blonde girl stands at the door. She has high knee socks on with holes, her skirt was a school skirt, and her shirt was covered in dirt. She smirks at you with her hands in her pockets.
🩸 You lock the door and flick her off. She stares at you for hours...seriously...the whole shift.
🔪 You stay on the phone with the cops and eagle watch her. Yet, she does nothing. When the cops arrive, she leaves.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your Stalker...:
🩸 Every shift, you get chills. After giving some homeless kids some candy, something your grandpa disagrees with, the blonde is back! In front of you...
🔪 Before getting your phone, she slams candy onto the counter. She stares at you with a blank stare. You slowly grab the candy. She leaves the shop...this becomes a routine.
🩸 Apparently, this candy is from this store, yet you will never know where she gets this from....why steal from here and not eat the stolen goods??
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A Friend?:
🔪 After this action, the store starts to see an improvement in income. Especially since you and her scare off the thieves! Yup, TOGETHER. How did this happen? You don’t know.
🩸 She is helping the business out now...yet she is still creepy. She stands behind you and breathes down your neck sometimes.
🔪 Now, you start to notice your boyfriends/girlfriends ‘disappearing’. Also, your crushes avoiding the hell out of you. Is it because you are unattractive...? Who knows! Toga knows! 👀
🩸 She starts to slowly become a business partner and friend??? A friend that comforts you through each “breakup”. A friend that asks to drink your blood and taste your blood...you pass this as a joke until you see her eyes darken...
🔪 Also, you notice your missing clothes from the house, especially your panties!?! Oh, also your open window, every night. Even when you lock it!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your Friend! (and personalized ‘sleep buddy’ COUGH-stalker...):
🩸 Ever feel lonely? Not anymore! She is always with you in the shop...and around the city, but you don’t need to know that!
🔪 Since the business is succeeding more than ever, your grandpa finally met her. If you dare to tell him about who injured you months ago, she will stab you. Maybe even sabotage your grandpa’s business. So, you keep quiet...yet, were you even gonna tell on her in the first place?? Isn’t she your friend...?
🩸 Your grandpa lets you and her have a sleepover at his house. She takes your clothes, as she doesn’t bring anything with her. You’ll have to share your toothbrush too! So...good luck with cleaning your toothbrush.
🔪 Your grandpa will definitely questions her lifestyle. She wouldn’t respond. 
🩸 Also, you HAVE to share a shower with her, you don’t have a choice. She will behave and even compliment your body.
🔪 When you try to guide her around the house, she says “I know!” and walks into your room. She even places her dirty clothes into my laundry basket, the one that is in my closet, your closed closet...ok...
🩸 When you two are getting ready to go to bed, she will cuddle the hell out of you. If you need to get something, she’ll get it for you, with her hand gripping onto yours. Need to pee? TOO BAD.
🔪 Snack wrappers will be covering you two. Which would knock you out, but she will keep bothering you until she gets a goodnight kiss. A kiss on the cheek will send her up a wall! Lips? You wanna smash?!? (She’s joking! Unless...) But, seriously she is extremely happy on both offers.
🩸 When you have to go to school, she will help you get ready. She will claim to be from your school, you give her a spare uniform and go to class with her. Your grandpa will be suspicious, but won’t question it. Each class will be with her!
🔪 The teachers are confused...yet her name is on the role...so yeahhh...you don’t have any space anymore.
🩸 She is crushing your hand as you talk to your friends. Yet, they like her! She is entertaining and rebellious but protective of you. Any bullies? They are on the news being reported as dead. You definitely question that. She shrugs and ignores this conversation.
🔪 Your friends are now her friends! You all form a group that dances to Tik-toks and laughs at trash memes. You all create an Instagram account for her, “(Y/N)’sWife” She can’t help but tease you if you blush. Your friends join in and eventually actually ship you too!
🩸 She posts you a lot on her Instagram, she makes edits of you as well. Oh yeah, she uses your phone to do all of this. Since she doesn’t have a phone. Or house. Or family...
🔪 Yeahhhh, she finally opens up to you completely when her feelings are overflowing for you~
🩸 After learning that she is homeless, you question how she is in school without someone over 18. She uses fake IDs and documents to enter schools. Well, that’s...depressing.
🔪 You can’t leave her in this condition! So, your grandpa adopts her! But, her feelings are conflicted now...you are one of her family members now. Yet, she can’t see you in that way, she loves you. Do you love her???
🩸 When she hits you with that question, you freeze. No matter how you respond, she will either be ecstatic and smother you with kisses, or blankly stare at you and push harder. You will eventually understand that you love her. You just need a push...you will break.
Hers:
🔪 Flowers will be an everyday accessory! She will cover your room in half-dead flowers, she expects kisses for this effort.
🩸 Your grandpa will have already seen this coming, he was like “finally.”
🔪 Dates are usually ending in you two running from the cops, she might have tried to rob a flower shop for you...
🩸 You definitely slap her upside her head, but she keeps causing trouble, “ACCEPT MY LOVE!” as she hands you the head of someone that didn’t give you the right condiments for your sandwich.
🔪 Her murderous tendencies are very apparent...but it’s for you. It’s always for you. So, is it really bad??
🩸 If you have periods, she will be massaging your stomach, hold a heating pad against your stomach, kiss the tears off your face, run to the store to grab pads, and help you keep hydrated and fed. Even if her pancakes are uncooked, her bacon is burnt, and her eggs are bland, it’s made out of love!
🔪 She gets along with your grandpa easily, you haven’t seen your grandpa smile and laugh this much before. You three have movie nights and cook together sometimes. Toga may cry if he praises her. Please don’t tease her or mock her for that, she was never really shown love growing up.
🩸 You two are lovely-dovely everywhere, even if PDA doesn’t make you comfortable. She will force you onto her lap or cuddle you shamelessly.
🔪 The school is completely annoyed, yet your friends keep hyping you two up. You two even have a Tik-Tok following, 5k. You two are the “It” couple!
🩸 Before bed Toga makes sure to tell you how much she loves you. Please do the same, she is devoted to you!
🔪 After a couple of months, she will try to be intimate with you. If you don’t want that, she will NEVER force you into that act. If you do want that, you will be covered in cuts and love bites. Your grandpa might try to put mosquito repellent on you. 
🩸 When you are almost done with high school, she will become more distant and secretive.
🔪 After laying in complete silence, she will confess to a mistake.
🩸 You will be staring at her with your heart racing. Cheating?? Lost interest??? Nope, she joined the L.O.V.
🔪 Oh...that’s it??? She will be surprised by that reaction. I mean she KILLS people, this isn’t the most surprising news. Yet, you will try to convince her to complete school and achieve higher goals.
🩸 She will consider it...but for now, you and her are apart of a new family. Don’t worry if someone touches you or threaten you, they will die. Even if it means dying for you. As long as she knows that you love her, and she gets to see your smile before dying, it would be worth it. You will always be worth it.
🔪 When your grandpa dies, you two will be over 18. You two will be upset, yet Toga will ground you. She is there for you. She knows what it’s like to lose the only person that cared for you. She will steal two lockets and cut out pictures of the three of you. The heart-shaped lockets will persevere the loving and accepting nature of your grandpa. So, you two agree to never let the shop close. You two only the shop and even made more shops around the community. The homeless kids are given free candy every day. Toga made a charity for kids that don’t have parents, it helps them achieve education and help them get adopted into loving families.
🩸 She opens up to you more about her childhood and her feelings. Even though the public views her as a heartless villain, she will always be apart of your heart.
🔪 Without each other, you two would be incomplete. You make her want to do better...maybe finish school and go to college...marriage...kids...many possibilities. But, for now, she wants to protect and love you. She’ll get better, she’ll do better, with you.
———————————————————————
In conclusion, 10/10 girlfriend! That is completely loyal to you, just be comfortable with sharing underwear and saliva! ❤️
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21 notes · View notes
7-wonders · 5 years
Text
Some Kind of Drug
Summary: Michael deals with his rejection in a much different way than most other people.
Word Count: 2548
A/N: Welcome back to Mad Love, friends! Sorry it’s taken so long, but life happens. Hopefully I’ll be able to post this now. As always, feedback is very much appreciated, and if you enjoyed I would love if you would like, comment and reblog. Shoot me an ask about this, my other works, or just anything!
(p.s....cw for blood ritual)
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Read Mad Love (part one) HERE | Read Totally F***ed (part two) HERE | Read The Isle of Flightless Birds (part three) HERE | Read A Hard Day’s Night (part four) HERE | Read Pour One Out (part five) HERE | Read Where Angels Fear to Tread (part six) HERE | Read Naked & Afraid (part seven) HERE | Read Ironically Alive (part eight) HERE | Read Blame It On My Youth (part nine) HERE | Read Everything All At Once (part ten) HERE | Read Try (Just a Little Bit Harder) (part eleven) HERE
Flickering candles cast long shadows on the walls of the chamber as Michael moves around, making sure that everything’s in the exact position he needs it to be in order to conduct his ritual. Communicating with his father in this way is not new to him, but it is something that he’s neglected since you came into his life. Now, however, Michael’s done playing your games. He’s been patient with you, allowing you to determine the speed of the relationship. Sooner or later, he figured, you would stop fighting what your soul knows to be true and give into him. Obviously, he had vastly underestimated you.
He hardly flinches as he makes deep cuts down the length of his arms, watching with silent concentration as the thick blood quickly starts to pool on the ground beneath him. Falling to his knees, he starts to use the blood to paint an upside-down pentagram. The movements are almost robotic-like now, becoming second nature after so many years. The Latin that Michael’s chanting falls off of his lips with ease, the words echoing through the empty air.
“May you rise from the void, Father,” Michael says, switching to plain English as he begins to complete the summoning. “May your darkness guide me, power in Satan to overcome my weaknesses. Power in your name, strong within.”
A humming, high-pitched and ceaseless, sounds in Michael’s ears as his vision dances with spots. Every single sense is being assaulted as his demonic, Satanic nature takes the wheel. The candles begin to roar with each second that passes, the fervor building in Michael’s veins as he waits with bated breath for Satan to arrive. The bloody pentagram bubbles underneath him as the height of the flames reaches to the ceiling, unchanged by the sudden wind that whips through the room. When the wind stops just as unexpectedly as it started, the air growing stiflingly still, Michael looks up with pitch black eyes.
“Ave Satanas.”
To the normal human eye, nothing is in the chamber with Michael. To the son of Satan, however, his father stands just behind him, a ghost-like touch on his shoulder as he whispers into the ear of his son, the same ear that’s burned with the Mark of the Beast. The humming starts up again, but to Michael it registers as words.
“Father,” he calls, “I request your guidance! You’ve...tortured me with these images, visions of a future that I will have.”
He’s been plagued with these visions for months now, long before Ms. Mead stuck that needle into your neck. They often come to Michael in the form of dreams, but he has been known to collapse to the floor as he’s taken over by a premonition. They’re always vivid, and they’re always of you and Michael. Michael, holding you as a husband should hold his wife. 
Kissing you.
Making love to you.
In his visions, you rule alongside him. The new world has been ushered in, with Michael as its king and you as its queen. You love each other unconditionally, just as it should be. You belong to him, and he belongs to you.
(Usually, he’s holding onto at least one curly-haired blonde cherub, and you’re almost always pregnant with another. That desperate need for a family, however, can wait. First, he needs to win over your mind.)
“Her will is strong, stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. Our souls were created for one another, yet she continues to deny what is inevitable. The bonding ritual from the night of our wedding was a failure, and she continues to spurn any of my advances. I’m lost, Father. How am I supposed to complete your plans if I do not wholly have the one person who is supposed to be at my side during all of this?”
“Perhaps something more...permanent?” Satan’s voice sounds preternaturally deep in Michael’s ear, and he has to hide a shiver.
“I promised (Y/N) that I wouldn’t use magic on her without her permission.”
“And you won’t.” Michael’s arm is raised by an invisible force, palm facing upwards as his hand is outstretched. An apple, bright red and almost perfectly shaped, appears in his grip.
“I don’t understand what this will help with.”
Satan remains silent, allowing a vision to play out in front of Michael’s eyes as a response. Michael watches as you appear in front of him, silently asking for the apple with a familiar tilt of your head. He hands it to you, your shimmering mirage-like form holding it as if you’re actually there. You take a large bite out of the apple, Michael nearly moaning as he watches the juice dribble past your full lips and down your chin in a near-erotic scene.
There’s no sound coming from you as you gasp, the apple landing heavily on the ground. Your expression changes, and you blink rapidly, as if trying to see through a thick fog. When your eyes meet Michael’s, you smile softly. Michael’s frozen, enraptured as you approach him and sit in his lap, not at all bothered by his lack of clothes. Your arms loop around his neck, and Michael can almost feel the heat of your breath as you begin to lean in. Right as your lips are about to connect with his, you disappear as suddenly as you appeared.
“So it’s--” Michael’s chest is heaving, and he has to remind himself to breathe.
“Nothing that will harm her. One bite of this apple and she will be yours, my son. Body, mind, and soul.”
Michael could almost just take the apple and run, but something is stopping him. “That’s still using magic on her, whether or not it’s mine.”
“I bring a gift for you, and this is how you repay me? With ignorant questions and flippant reactions?”
“No Father, I’m extremely grateful.”
“Then take the gift. If anything, do not think of this as magic. Think of it--”
The dream (or maybe a nightmare) is the kind that’s forgotten as soon as you shoot up in bed with a gasp. You know that it was extremely vivid, your heart still pounding as you grab your phone to turn your alarm off, but you can’t remember the specifics. Lots of candles and Michael are the only things you’re sure were a part of your dream, but those could be used in any setting. Michael knocking over a candle and setting the house on fire? Celebrating Michael’s birthday? Lighting fireworks with Michael?
You shake your head, hoping maybe that will clear the fuzzy feeling in your brain like it clears an Etch-a-Sketch. You’re disoriented, like you slept for twenty hours instead of the eight or so that you normally do. Intense dreams tend to do that to you, so you’re careful with yourself as you crawl out of bed and head for the shower.
Even after you’ve washed the remnants of a restless sleep off of you, you still feel...off. You’re not sure if it’s related to the dream that you can’t remember, but you just feel weird today, like the world’s just slightly tilted on its axis and you’re the only one who notices it. Staring at your face in the steamed-over mirror as you comb through your hair, you frown slightly at yourself.
“Get it together, (Y/N),” you mutter to your reflection, watching as she says the words back to you at the same time. Swiping a towel over the mirror to clear it up, you shoot a couple of half-hearted finger guns at yourself before deciding that you need to stop procrastinating before you’re late. 
Michael, surprisingly, is leaning against the counter when you make your way into the kitchen. Normally he’s already in his office by this time, so to see him eating a bagel while scrolling through his phone is jarring. 
“Um, good morning?” you say, thrown off by this change in his ever-strict schedule. He must not have heard you come in, because he jumps when you greet him.
“(Y/N)!” He straightens up, trying to act like you didn’t just scare him. “You really are getting better at sneaking up on me.”
“Damn, and I wasn’t even trying.” You jokingly shoulder check him as you pass by, hearing him snicker under his breath.
“Do you nanny the two girls today?”
“No, I have to meet with my advisor on campus.”
“I thought class didn’t start for another couple of weeks?”
“It doesn’t, and please don’t remind me,” you groan, looking forlornly into the fridge. “This summer went by way too fast, I feel like I didn’t even get to do anything!”
“You would have been able to enjoy your summer if you had heeded my advice and not taken a job,” Michael points out, falling silent when you shoot him a withering glance.
“You may be the Antichrist, but I’ll still kick your ass if given the chance.” There’s nothing that appeals to you in the fridge, so you begrudgingly shut the door and look around for something that you can eat quick before running off to campus. “What are you up to today? Meeting with Putin?”
“The ghost of Josef Stalin, actually.” Michael smiles when you laugh loudly.
“Ah, well, be sure to break the bad news of the fall of Communism gently.”
“I’ll try, but my Russian’s pretty basic, at best.” 
Nodding as if you understand the downfalls of only being passing in the Russian language, your eyes fall on the fruit bowl sitting on the counter. Although all of the fruit looks pretty appetizing, the particular apple sitting at the top is practically calling your name. It’s shiny and bright red, and looks as if it was just picked out of a tree. The feeling that something’s off returns with a full force, making you pause right as you’re about to grab the apple. Figuring that you’re just hungry, you shake it off and take the fruit from the bowl.
Running it under some water, you look at Michael with a questioning glance when you feel him staring at you. “Do you have a problem with me eating this apple?”
“No, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” he says quickly. “Just lost in my thoughts, I guess.”
“O...kay?” He still watches you as you turn the water off, shaking the apple dry and grabbing a towel to wipe your hands. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, absolutely. Why?”
“You just seem off today. Then again, maybe it’s the moon or something, because I’ve felt weird all morning, too.”
“You have?”
“Yeah, I had a really vivid dream last night, and I still haven’t been able to get over it.”
“Hmm, what was it about?” Michael’s mind is fighting a battle with his nature as he anxiously watches you toss the apple in the air before setting it down on the counter to grab a glass of water. 
“That’s the thing, I don’t remember. All I remember is that it involved you and some candles.” Michael’s pretty sure his heart stops, automatically knowing that you somehow inadvertently had a front-row seat to the ritual with his father. “I don’t know, maybe it involved you setting the house on fire?”
“Why would I ever set the house on fire?”
“Hey, I never said you did it on purpose! You could’ve dropped a candle? Can’t you light things on fire with your magic? Maybe you just got too excited.”
“Okay, you’re making me nervous talking about the different ways I could burn the house down.” He’s nervous for a few reasons right now, but you don’t need to know that. 
“And here I thought you couldn’t get nervous,” you tease.
For Michael, the next two seconds happen slow enough to make it feel like two minutes. He watches as you raise the apple to your mouth, heart jumping in his chest with a mix of glee and horror. Finally, it’s happening. He should be happy about this; he is happy about this, but he can’t deny how he guilty he feels. Still, he attempts to argue with himself, it’s not like you’re forcing her to love you. You’re just helping her to see what her soul knows.
But I’m making her feel that before she’s ready to acknowledge it, he fires back.
She’s had months now to acknowledge it! It’s time to speed things along.
The time that Michael spends debating with himself, he finds, is precious time lost. Instead of coming to a decision, you make the decision for him by biting into the apple. He stifles a gasp, feigning a cough instead as he waits for the inevitable to occur. The inevitable, however, occurs much slower than he was led to believe. One, two, and three bites are taken before Michael remembers how to speak. 
“(Y/N)?” he asks cautiously.
“Yeah?” He’ll forgive the fact that you talked with food in your mouth this time, since there are bigger worries at hand.
“Are you...feeling alright?” You eyes widen, and Michael’s sure that the magic’s taken effect. 
Then, you roll your eyes. “Perfectly fine, unless you poisoned the apples a la Snow White?”
“I was just curious.” You shake your head slowly, obviously not believing him.
“And I thought I was going to be the weird one today,” you mutter under your breath, checking the time and grabbing your bag like you would any other morning. “I gotta go. Don’t light the house on fire while I’m gone, okay?”
“I’m not planning on it,” Michael says, still in disbelief that you’re acting completely normal.
With a cheeky smile and a sarcastic wave, you’re out the door with a “bye, Mikey!” He doesn’t even bother to correct you on the nickname, standing in the kitchen in a frozen stupor as he tries to figure out what just happened.
Michael rushes over to the fruit bowl, unsure of if you grabbed the wrong piece of fruit or if you’re just impervious to any sort of mind-affecting magic. Flipping the bowl over, the various apples and oranges scatter across the counter. He allows the tendrils of his magic to extend out like extra limbs, hands grasping for each apple that he can find. Finally he feels it, the magic that fully coats the apple as if it’s caramel being drizzled on top. Michael cries out in relief, examining the apple to make sure it really is the one that was given to him by his father. 
With one look, the apple’s incinerated until there’s nothing but a small pile of ashes in Michael’s hand. He turns on the faucet, washing his hands of the ashes and keeping the water running until he’s sure that any trace of the rotten plan is down the drain, both figuratively and literally. Leaning against the counter, Michael flicks his wrist to put the bowl back on the counter like nothing ever happened.
He got lucky this time. Satan influences Michael, injecting himself into his son’s veins and manipulating him until he’s something he doesn’t recognize, something villainous and evil. He almost let the Devil do it again, only this time it involved you. “Never again,” Michael mutters, determined to escape the clutches of his father. 
Evil, however, comes in many different forms.
//
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385 notes · View notes
muthaz-rapapa · 5 years
Text
StarPre Ep 40: A lesson in judging immaturely.
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Dude, this episode hurt like a bitch to watch.
I mean, the preview suggested it would be but I will never be alright with seeing Lala cry, ok? N-E-V-E-R
Also, FUCK MADOKA’S DAD!!
Don’t you ever come near my daughter again! D:<
*cough* Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Rumor mills and ostracization.
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Ok, let’s set aside the fact that Lala is indeed an alien, that strange things started happening around the same time she transferred in, that people woke up with no memory of what happened before they fell unconscious, etc.
Let’s set aside the fact that despite being a grade-A tactless asshat, Madoka’s dad was just doing his job on investigating things he found suspicious. That it probably wasn’t his foremost intention to disrupt peaceful school life by having everyone in Lala’s class turn on her just because he wanted confirmation on who she truly was.
Does that make his actions excusable?
NO.
You do not approach a middle school girl, tell her that her classmate is “highly illegal and dangerous” with absolutely no proof to your claim and simply not care about the consequences afterwards.
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Look, we all know the kids in Hikaru and Lala’s class are good people. Nobody gangs up on others, nobody gets left out of the group and they all get along very well.
Most importantly, they welcomed Lala with open arms when she joined their class.
So for that to turn completely upside down overnight, there’s got to be reason for it and it certainly can’t be because they’ve all been rotten deep down this entire time. Naw, that makes absolutely no sense.
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The reason is panic.
As good as these kids are, they’re still just kids, y’know? They’re children.
How do you think they’re going to react when an adult (who just so happens to be the former school president’s father AND a government official) says “your classmate may be behind all the strange things that’s been occurring all over town”?
Children are taught to listen to their elders.
Children also have very vivid imaginations.
If you tell them there is reason to fear, then they will fear.
They are not the cause of the problem (the one who set that fear loose is) but their misunderstanding of it can make things so much worse.
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And in this case, it created a scenario none of them wanted.
They all went on the defensive against one innocent girl. They excluded her out of self-preservation and hurt her as a result.
Again, like Himenojou later clarifies, nobody in the class wanted to suspect Lala. They felt awful about it when Lala ran off crying after hearing their conversation.
But since Madoka’s dad tried to expose Lala’s true nature, it’s very hard for them to ignore the possibility of a connection between Lala and the strange happenings. They just can’t help but doubt.
And it’s so very easy for humans to doubt each other. It’s such a sad thing to admit but people in general tend to give in to their negative thoughts more than they want to try to believe the actual truth.
I mean, take a look at what happens on social media every single day. People are vicious and merciless when it comes to their opinions. We think we know what’s right when in reality, we really don’t know what to believe.
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But more than how it affects us, how do you think it fares for the target of these “discussions”?
Do their feelings not matter? Are they supposed to just sit quietly on the side like an object as we tear into them with our suspicions?
That is just so WRONG.
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Which is why I’m so glad, so eternally grateful, that even in times like these, there will always be at least one person in the world who’s going to stand by you no matter what. Who will cry with you but defend you to the bitter end regardless.
Nevermind that Hikaru’s been in on Lala’s secret since the very beginning. Nevermind that they’re very close friends or are on the same team.
Hikaru chose the Lala she knows over the vague accusations pointed at her friend.
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Hikaru chose Lala for who she is, not what she is. 
And like so many instances before, the theme of these season comes full circle.
It is worth it. Learning more about what you don’t know. Understanding and comprehending what you don’t know.
So that when you finally know, truly know, there is no need to doubt.
Because you already know what’s true so why should you doubt anymore?
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Then of course, there’s Lala.
Oh, Lala.
You sweet, wonderful, beautiful girl.
Despite having such a shitty day bearing the distrusting looks of her classmates, Lala knows that they didn’t mean to hurt her. They were just afraid. They couldn’t help it.
It doesn’t erase what they all did for her when she became their classmate. It doesn’t render all the good times she shared with them moot.
No. Lala still sees them as her friends, people who are dear to her. People who have made her happy. For that, there’s no reason why she shouldn’t protect them.
They’re important to Lala, regardless of what they think of her or whether they can understand her or not, so of course she’s going to protect them!
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And again, it comes full circle because now that everything’s out in the open, then it also means the entire class can see Lala for who she truly is.
And what they see isn’t a scary alien out to abduct them and take away their memories but a brave girl who’s doing everything within her power to keep them from harm.
A girl who’s also their precious classmate and who’s also an alien.
She isn’t just one and not the other. She’s both.
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But most importantly, she’s Lala. Their friend, Lala.
By cheering her on and later defending her from Madoka’s dad, they’ve fully accepted her situation and choose to stand by her just like Hikaru did.
It doesn’t matter what she is. What matters is that she’s important to them and that she’s here to stay and they won’t tolerate anyone who says or think less of her.
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The fact that it’s gotten to the point where even Madoka is tired of Daddy-o’s invasive shit and firmly tells him to leave them alone is just...gratuitous icing on the cake.
*chef’s kiss*
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Anyways, out of all the individual-centric eps in this last stretch before the climax, Lala’s focus ep amazes and excels over everyone else’s (not sure about Madoka’s yet which we’ll see next week) again.
Because you gotta remember that on her planet, nobody cared about her, much less acknowledged that she has the potential to be more than what they believe she’s capable of.
Lala yearned so much to be treated with respect but Saaman would not give that to her.
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However, on Earth, she’s loved for who she is and not rejected for what she’s not.
And then she came so close to losing that so she fought to prove herself. Even without knowing if they’d welcome her back now that they’re aware she’s an alien, she fought anyways because here on Earth, more than on Saaman, she feels like she belongs.
Lala is infinitely more happy with her Earthling friends than she has ever been on Saaman and it will be terribly heartbreaking when she’ll have to leave after the final boss battle.
T_T
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...that said, as much as I loved the resolution of this episode, I can’t help but find the buildup towards it a little...tilted?
Please don’t get me wrong, the message was solid and everything does make sense in context (more than Yuni’s episode did, anyway) but...
I dunno, I just can’t shake off the mild impression that in order for people to accept you, you literally have to take a barrage of bullets for them. But it’s a very insignificant feeling and I know that wasn’t the writers’ intention so nevermind. Forget this nonsense I’m spouting. :P
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Anyways, all’s well that ends well. Lala will be even more loved than ever and frankly, that’s all that matters.
BEST GIRL, YEP
:D
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catflowerqueen · 4 years
Text
Deja vu (Oh, the Irony)
Here’s chapter two! I’ll try to get another one up soon, but I make no promises--I may be on break right now, but, alas, that doesn’t mean I still don’t have actual work to do. That and familial obligations over the holidays. Fun ones, of course, but it still means I won’t have as much time to write.
I might post headcanons or ramblings if anyone is interested, though.
And these chapters are also up on my fanfiction .net accounts and ao3
Chapter 2: Talking Heads
 …and then, with a singular voice, Drowzee, Chatot, and the other apprentices all screamed, “YOU DID WHAAAAAAAT?!!!”
 This, of course, was the wrong thing to do when around small children, especially when said children are already on edge from suddenly finding themselves in a strange place, surrounded by strange people, and with no familiar comforts in sight. The little human girl—presumably Laura—had her hands occupied, so her only defense against the loud noise and tension was to screw her eyes shut and hunch over as much as possible, trying to use her shoulders to cover her ears. Paula, now an adorable pichu, had both of her paws free… but rather than use them to cover her large ears, she instead used them to give a death-grip on Laura’s already rumpled collar and begin wailing in terror. Which, of, course, made the human carrying her almost drop her in shock… which set off another round of wailing at an even higher pitch. But it also succeeded in shutting everyone else up and making them cringe in shame for having frightened someone so little and adorable.
 Everyone, except Drowzee, that is, who instead gave a low moan of “Oh no… not again…!” before he dropped the human’s hand in favor of moving around so that he was standing in front of the two kids and tried to calm the little pichu down. “H-hey, it’s… okay!” he said a bit frantically, making shushing noises and waving his hands in front of himself, as if he both wanted to scoop her out of the human’s arms in order to better soothe her but was also too terrified to make the attempt. “C’mon, Paula, we’re all really, really sorry for yelling and being noisy! We promise not to do it again, so there’s no reason to—!”
 But that, apparently, was also the wrong thing to say, as the poor thing’s wailing did not cease, and she started adding in tearful shouts of “No! No! No!” in amongst her pitiful cries, her cheeks sparking a little as she shook her head, managing to clip the human’s face with her large ears each time. Laura, for her part, did not seem to care about that overly much, and actually seemed to be less upset about the noise in general now that it was only coming from one source. The hand not holding the Tiny Mouse Pokémon—which she had used to cover one of her ears after it was finally freed from Drowzee’s grasp—slowly came down and cradled the back of Paula’s head, creating a more stable hold. She frowned, glancing briefly at the electric-type in her arms before turning her attention to Drowzee and his ineffectual efforts at trying to control the situation.
 “I don’t think you’re helping, Mr. Drowzee,” she told him seriously. Or at least as seriously as a small child—practically a toddler, really—could get. It was such an unexpected statement coming from such an unexpected source that Drowzee immediately shut up and actually reeled back a bit in shock. But she paid no further attention to him, instead turning back towards Paula. She jostled her a bit, startling Paula into a brief moment of silence, which Laura then took full advantage of by saying, “Hey. Hey, you… uh… is your name really Paula?”
Paula looked at her, blinking her teary eyes in surprise that the strange girl was actually asking her about her name, instead of just assuming that these strangers throwing it around were right about what it was. Which… yeah, they were, but Paula didn’t know who they were; they didn’t look like they were her parents’ friends, or anything like the pokémon in the picture Ricky had sent of his team’s fellow apprentices in the guild he was training at, so she didn’t know how they knew who she was. And she didn’t like that—especially since she didn’t know where she even was, aside from “definitely not home.” But… she guessed the girl holding her was okay, even if she looked weird. Her eyes were pretty, and it was nice of her to offer to carry her around—especially since that grate that Mr. Drowzee had tried to get her to step on earlier was really, really scary, and it looked like it would tickle her feet, or that she would fall through into the darkness below if she tried to stand on it. So, it would probably be okay to introduce herself.
 She nodded a little, and then leaned up so that she could whisper, “Uh huh… I’m Paula… Paula Sparks,” into her ear. Except she wasn’t all that great at whispering at the moment, since her throat was all scratchy from all the crying and yelling she was doing earlier, so all of the other strangers probably heard her, too.
 The human took that in stride. “It’s nice to meet you!” she announced “And everyone here! Even if everyone’s really confused ‘n’ stuff.” At this point she dropped her head down to “whisper” into Paula’s large ears and, “I don’ think they know what’s goin’ on either.” Again, everyone else heard this because she apparently wasn’t any better than Paula was at whispering, even if she didn’t have the handicap of a sore throat like Paula did. But after that “whispered” pronouncement, she paused, and then drew herself back up to her full height and said, rather bluntly, “My arms are tired. I’mma put you down now, ‘kay?”
 Paula, whose tears had mostly stopped by that point, frowned in obvious disappointment, her lips quivering into a pout, before she shakily nodded. She sniffled a bit after she was set down, and rubbed the tears from her eyes. But it wasn’t as if Laura was abandoning her completely, since as soon as Paula sat down, the human immediately plopped down beside her. She then rolled onto her stomach, propped her head up with her hands, and began kicking her legs in the air behind her as she stared at the adults around her expectantly.
 After a moment of their rather wary staring right back at her, supremely confused by the fact that she was the one taking charge of the situation, considering her older self’s personality, Chatot awkwardly cleared his throat.
 “…Right then,” he began. “Now that we’ve all… er… calmed down a bit, I suppose that the first thing we should do is figure out what we know for sure about the situation at hand. So that would mean… Drowzee.”
 “Oh!” Drowzee tore his eyes away from the sight of the kids—Laura having pretty quickly decided that her arms were just as tired while supporting her head as they had been while holding Paula, and thus having rolled onto her back, limbs spread out like a star and head tilted backwards to watch the group from upside down while Paula basically faceplanted into her stomach, having decided that her fellow child would make a serviceable pillow—in surprise upon being addressed. “Yes?” he asked. “What, uh… what can I do for you?”
 “Can you please tell us exactly what happened when you met up with Team Rainbow this evening?” Chatot asked. “And how they changed from their normal selves into… this?”
 “Oh! Yeah, yeah sure, I can do that,” Drowzee said. “I don’t really understand it… and I’m not entirely sure what happened to cause this… but this is what I saw: Like I said, I wasn’t expecting to actually get here until tomorrow, but the journey took less time than I thought it would. Just as I was making my way to the crossroads, I happened to see Team Rainbow a little way away. I called out a greeting to Paula, and she answered back with…
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“Oh! Hey, Drowzee!” Paula called back, turning around from where she was leaning down and talking to her partner. Laura was, rather worryingly, sitting on the ground, head in her knees, and breathing somewhat heavily. She did tilt her head a bit and peek her eyes out at him, however.
 “Are you okay?” he asked in worry. “It’s kind of late out…”
           Paula nodded. “Yeah, we’re fine,” she affirmed. “We were on our way back, but we picked up tons of cool treasure today, so our bag is heavier than normal and Laura just needed to stop and take a break for a bit.”
           Drowzee stole a glance at their bag where it sat on the ground near Laura’s feet, the strap looped around her arm. While it did, admittedly, look a bit bulgier than normal Treasure Bags usually did, he knew that he’d seen her and Paula toting it around when it was much heavier and fuller looking without breaking a sweat. Coupled with the fact that Laura still looked like she had bags under her eyes, even weeks after the whole Dreamy Blackmailer fiasco—and Paula, too, now that he got a bit of a closer look—and it painted a darker picture than what Paula was trying to describe. But given that the very presence of the eye-bags indicated that the two were likely not as relaxed or recovered as Paula’s cheeriness was trying to lead him to believe, he decided not to comment.
           “…Right,” he said, instead of calling her out on the fact that all was not as fine as she wanted to make it appear. It would likely only make them try even harder and less successfully to convince him of the notion that they were fine. He compromised by suggesting, “In that case, you should definitely make sure to get a good night’s sleep tonight.”
             But this was apparently the wrong thing to say, as Paula outright flinched at the suggestion, growing pale at the thought, and Laura, while her reaction wasn’t quite as extreme, still hid her eyes again and gave a mournful sigh.
             “Do you… ah… do you want me to see if Cresselia can come over and help?” Drowzee said, frowning at the sight and feeling anxious to do something, anything, to help his friends.
             “No, no, really! We’re fine!” Paula tried to assure him, frantically shaking her head as the color came back to her face.
           “…It’s okay if you still aren’t. You two have been through a lot recently, and—”
             “I…” Paula trailed off with a sigh, a pained look on her face. “I—we… we know. And we know everyone is still really worried about us, but…”
             “…Even he would say that nightmares at this point wouldn’t help anything… and the only way we can think of to help with that is to make some better memories to dream about,” Laura finished, raising her head to look at him straight in the eyes.
             Paula winced at the reminder… but it was more of a resigned wince, if anything, and Drowzee supposed that if that was going to be her only reaction, then it meant things really were improving for her. At least a little bit. Also, the fact that Laura could actually talk about these things and look at him in the eyes again, despite how up close and personal he’d gotten with all her issues during his most recent trip inside her head could only point to good things. Still… if he’d learned anything from this most recent trial, it was that recovery was a process, and sometimes it was the little things that helped the most.
             “Well, just so long as you’re aware…” he began, “in any case, it’s actually good that I caught you out here; considering that Cresselia was briefly a member of Team Rainbow, I wanted to see if you had any advice on how to balance the duties of a legendary with, well, everything else.”
             The two looked relieved at the topic change. “Sure thing!” Paula said eagerly. “But, uh… I’m not sure how much help we’ll be considering that the lack of a proper balance is what made her have to leave in the first place…”
             “Well, at least you’ll be able to tell me what not to do, then, right?” Drowzee said, a smirk on his face as he offered Laura a hand up. She took it, a small grin of her own appearing on her face. She then went to heft Team Rainbow’s Treasure Bag over her shoulder, but Drowzee stopped her, making grabby motions with his other hand. “Nah, let me go ahead and carry it the rest of the way for you—consider it a bit of payment for the advice.”
             Laura rolled her eyes, grin still on her face, before she handed the bag over, their hands briefly brushing as she did so. But just as she turned and began to take her first steps toward the crossroads, she suddenly stumbled, a wince crossing her face, and brought her hands up to her temples.
             “Laura? Are you okay?” Paula asked in worry, scampering closer to her partner.
             Laura made a noise of discomfort, but then she nodded. “D-Dimensional Scream,” she explained, as her eyes began to glow and acquire the far-off look that had become so familiar.
             Drowzee couldn’t help but be a bit curious about the process. After all, he hadn’t had as much experience with it as the others had, considering how often he was away from town—and since it apparently was this ability which had led to his capture during his outlaw days, he was doubly interested. Not that he was resentful of it, or anything, since he really had needed someone to put him on the straight and narrow. But he couldn’t help but be curious about what, exactly, Laura had seen that day… he hoped it wasn’t anything too bad—he knows that he said some not-so-nice things to Azurill that had scared him, and that he was still ashamed of to this day. Then again, considering that he had literally wandered through some of the darkest, most painful and private parts of Laura’s mind recently, he figured that if she had seen some of his more painful and embarrassing moments, it would only be fair. …That being said, though, considering that he was one of the last things she touched before this Dimensional Scream activated, and even he knew enough about the ability to know that touch was what triggered the visions, he really hoped that the vision she was having right now involving him wasn’t too embarrassing. Or that at least if was and involved something happening in the future, she would be able to describe it enough that he could mitigate the chance that anyone else would witness the embarrassing display. …Maybe in that case he could get her to describe it to him sometime when Paula wasn’t around.
             Of course, there was always the possibility that the bag had been the trigger, or that it was something else innocuous, so he supposed he would just have to wait and see. Luckily, it looked like the vision was ending now, so he wouldn’t have to wait too long. …Then again, the fact that Laura’s face was rapidly losing color, even as she blinked her way back to the present, did not bode very well…
             “…Laura? Are you okay?” Paula asked, catching the unease on her face. When Laura failed to say anything, she gave her shoulder a firm shake. “Laura?” she asked, a desperate note entering her voice. “What did you see?”
             The worry in her partner’s voice finally broke Laura out of her stupor, and she gave a quick glance in her direction, before turning a rather haunted look towards Drowzee, and then her gaze dropped to her hands.
             “…No… but that’s…” she stumbled back a few steps, her limbs trembling as she covered her eyes. “That can’t be…”
             “…L-Laura?” Drowzee called, starting to feel scared about what, exactly, his friend just saw in her vision. He took a step forward, hand outstretched as if he wanted to grasp her shoulder—whether to offer comfort or prevent her from moving away again, he wasn’t sure—but before he could take another step Laura flinched back violently.
             “L-Laura?!” he and Paula called out as one, obvious distress in their voices.
             Laura gasped, her fingers parting briefly so that the two could see the lost gaze of her rainbow-colored eyes. But then she glanced between the two of them, winced at the looks on their faces, and then covered them again before taking a shaky inhale for courage and dropping her hands again to look Drowzee squarely in the eyes.
             “You… I saw…” her courage briefly failed and she trailed off, looking lost, but it seemed it was only a momentary faltering, she quickly shook her head and took another inhale, steadying herself. “I saw you, Drowzee, along with Marill, Chatot, and Guildmaster Wigglytuff. You were on Mt. Bristle, and looking frantically for something … or, rather, someone. Because then you looked relieved, and shouted ‘Hey!’ and… a human girl turned to look at you. She…” but Laura trailed off here with a gulp, shaking her head and refusing to continue further.
             “A… a human?” Drowzee asked, dumbfounded. The only human he’d ever seen outside of dreams had been Laura herself, and the circumstances surrounding that had definitely been unusual. As far as he knew, humans were a rarity. So why would one go to Mt. Bristle? And how would they know him? And when exactly would this happen? It had to be sometime in the future, because, again, as of this moment he didn’t know any other humans but Laura.
             “But why is that so upsetting, Laura?” Paula asked, getting Drowzee back on track to the present.
             “She…” Laura swallowed. “Her eyes… they were like mine,” she whispered.
             “No way! She had rainbow eyes too?” Paula gasped. “So that means… do you think she was maybe your successor?!” Drowzee whipped his head over to look at Laura as the horror of that possibility dawned on him as well. But apparently Paula didn’t grasp the implications of that idea, since she continued with, “That’s so cool that you get to see what she’ll look like, and—” but then it finally dawned on Paula as well exactly what that meant, and her own face drained of color as well. “But… wait… in order for you to have a successor… that means that first you’ll… y-you’ll have to… t-to—!”
             She couldn’t finish the thought. It was too horrible to even consider. But the implications lingered in the air: in order for Laura to have a successor, a future Rainbow Child… it meant that she would have to reincarnate. And in order for her to reincarnate… she would first have to, well… to die.”
             “…How much time do you think we have?” Drowzee asked morosely. If the time he had left with his friend was now limited, then he wanted to know exactly what that limit was, so that he could be sure not to waste the now even more precious commodity. “And… and should we tell anyone else?” All three of them paused and winced at the thought. But then Laura turned thoughtful as she went over the vision again, trying to pinpoint any clues that would tell her how far in the future it occurred.
             “I think… not long,” was her deduction. “You and the others didn’t look any older, so it couldn’t have been—” she cut herself off, blinking at a sudden realization. “…You didn’t look any older. Like… not even a little. But that girl had to be at least three, maybe four years old, so that means…”
             “S-So that means…?” Paula repeated, a bit of hope coming back into her voice.
             Laura gave a sigh of relief, “She can’t be my successor—not unless some sort of time travel is involved. Which… wouldn’t actually be that strange, considering my own history, but…” she trailed off, a frown on her face that went unnoticed by her two friends who were busy giving twin sighs of relief.
             “Don’t scare us like that, Laura!” Paula complained.
           “Seriously…” Drowzee concurred wholeheartedly. “Though… I guess we might still want to watch out if it is a case of time travel. Those tend to be pretty serious. And if a little kid is involved this time, one who’s even younger than you were the first time you did it…”
             Paula nodded in agreement. “That’s a good point. I guess we should start getting ready to take care of a kid, then? Hm… I wonder what human kids need… I wouldn’t want to end up in a similar situation to what happened with Manaphy right after he hatched,” she shuddered a bit at the reminder. “At least we already have a human expert on hand, right, Laura?” she asked with a smile, moving closer to her with the intent of giving her a playful nudge. But before she could, she noticed the frown that was still on Laura’s face.
             “Laura? Is… is something else wrong?”
             Laura blinked, looking at Paula before rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “Oh… no, not ‘wrong’ so much as…. ‘strange,’ I guess.” At Paula and Drowzee’s expectant faces, she continued. “The girl… now that I think back on it, she looked really… familiar.”
             “You mean… aside from the eyes?” Drowzee asked.
             Laura nodded. “Yeah. I could swear I’d seen her before… maybe in a picture? Or… no.” Her mouth opened into a little “o” of shock. “She looked like a younger version of that statue… the one from Relatia’s Cave…” Her brow furrowed. “But that statue… she was the very first. So how could… why would she be here? And now? And…” she trailed off, looking a bit sick. “I don’t… I don’t feel so good…”
             “L-Laura?” Drowzee said, starting to panic again and move towards her to try to help. “What’s wrong? What just—?”
             “Ugh…” he suddenly heard from behind him, turning around just in time to see Paula crouch over, clutching her stomach. “Me neither…”
             “Paula?” Drowzee called, feeling suddenly frantic and stuck looking between the two girls, unsure of who he should help first, or what he could even do to help in the first place. The panic only grew when he heard what he thought was a scream echoing in the distance… and then Team Rainbow screamed as well as they were enveloped in a bright light. It was so bright, that Drowzee had to shut his eyes against it. And when he could finally open them again and look frantically for his friends… he visibly jolted back upon finding that they had changed.
             Where once stood a pikachu was now an adorable, little pichu—laying on the ground, apparently unconscious. He stared at the sight in shock before slowly turning in search of his treecko friend… and found, instead, a little human girl with white hair, also lying on the ground.
             …Well, he supposed that answered the question of where and when he would meet another human, even if he still wasn’t entirely clear about what just happened. But before he had the chance to figure it out, the little human started to stir.
 “Mm… H-huh?” She said, blinking her pretty, rainbow-colored eyes open and staring straight at him.
 “L-Laura?” he whispered in shock. “Is… is that you?”
 The little girl cocked her head. “Who’re you?” she asked, rather than actually respond to his question.
 Drowzee gulped. “It… it’s me. Drowzee,” he said. The girl simply cocked her head in the other direction. “Y-you know… your friend?” No comprehension. “The… the first pokémon you and Paula ever helped arrest?”
 Then, Drowzee’s heart plummeted when the girl asked “What’s a Pokémon?”
 But before Drowzee could even begin to react to the terrifying implications that question brought on, he heard some sleepy mumbles coming from where the pichu lay. He and the girl turned their heads towards her just in time to see her big eyes blink open as she sat up and started to look around.
 “…P-Paula?” Drowzee asked desperately.
 The little pichu nodded, breathing a small, soft, “Yeah” … before she flinched back and then promptly burst into tears.
 Laura frowned and crawled towards her while Drowzee panicked at the sight of the tears. “Wh-wha…? Wh-what’s wrong? Why are you crying?!”
 “I’m not s’pposed to talk to strangers!” Paula wailed. “Mommy’ll be mad at me an’… an’…” she abruptly stopped crying, looking around and sniffling a bit… before the tears and wailing returned ten-fold and she wailed, even more shrilly “An’ Mommy’s not here! I WAN’ MOMMY!!!” as she beat her tiny fists against the ground.
 “Oh… oh no…” Drowzee groaned, completely out of his depth…
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“…And that’s when I decided to come to the guild,” Drowzee finished. “It took a while to convince Paula that it was okay to follow me—I had to show her my new exploration team badge and everything, and then when we actually got to the guild, she was too scared to step on the grate… but she let Laura pick her up, and then… well, you know the rest.” He shrugged. “As for what actually caused this… I have no clue. I’m assuming that the scream and the light were involved, but as for how…?” He shook his head and shrugged again.
 “Oh… oh, golly…” Bidoof moaned from where he was standing by Chatot. Chatot covered his head with his wings and sighed. That was just… well.
 “All… all right,” he finally said, uncovering his head. “So what appears to have happened is that upon waking Jirachi—who had fallen asleep on the Beach during his visit with Bidoof, our illustrious guild, and Treasure Town in general—Bidoof triggered Jirachi’s, shall we say, ‘protocols,’ for granting wishes… and then, due to stress and general worry for Team Rainbow’s well-being… Bidoof inadvertently made a wish that Paula and Laura could be children again… which Jirachi then granted just as Drowzee met up with Team Rainbow near the Crossroads once they finally made it back from their longer-than-advised day of exploration. Does this sound about right?”
“Hey, hey! Don’t forget that Jirachi passed out after granting the wish!” Corphish called out. “Unless maybe that’s normal for him… Hey, Bidoof, did he do that last time he granted a wish for you?”
“N-no,” Bidoof replied, cringing under the scrutiny. “I mean… I guess he might’ve gone back to sleep after I left… but he and I talked a bit first right after I made my wish to… uh,” he coughed in embarrassment, declining to say out loud what the wish had been, even though most everyone had figured it out earlier. “But, uh… he didn’t do any of that glowy stuff back then… and I’m not sure he actually granted the wish right away, so I reckon it’s possible that if he did wait until after I left to grant the wish, then he may have passed out then, too, yup yup.” He frowned, remembering something, before adding, “Oh! But, uh… he did say this time that he ‘overdid it’ a little, and it seemed like he seemed real concerned about Laura—or maybe the Rainbow Child in general?—when he started glowing, so, uh…” he frowned and shrugged, “I don’t really know, but I reckon it might be important?”
 “Hm… perhaps,” Chatot acknowledged, a frown on his face.
 “Y’know… this human doesn’t really LOOK like Laura did as a human,” Loudred suddenly said. “Except for her EYES. Are we REALLY sure it’s actually her?”
 “That is a good point,” Dugtrio agreed. “When Laura briefly assumed her human form, she was much taller… And her hair was brown, not white.”
 “Yeah, but our Laura is also older than this one, and Mason said that human kids are smaller than the adults are, so maybe their hair just changes color when they evolve, like the fur of an electrike when it becomes a manectric,” his son offered. But then he got a confused look on his face. “Er… Dad? Do… do humans actually… evolve, when they become adults?”
 Everyone pondered that for a moment.
 “I’m… I’m not entirely sure about that,” Chatot said, finally breaking the silence. “But… I also agree with Loudredl I’m not entirely positive that this is actually Laura.”
 “Oh, oh?” Wigglytuff asked. “So you don’t think that these are the child versions of our friendly-friends Laura and Paula?”
 “I’m fairly certain that the pichu is Paula,” his head of intelligence clarified, “but the human… if you recall Drowzee’s story, she never actually confirmed that her name was Laura. asked. And… she had no idea what a pokémon was. Given the story Laura told us in Relatia’s Cave about her childhood and some of the… erm… other things she revealed to me in that… other cave the two of us were in recently,” he paused here to shudder at the memories, “Laura lived with pokémon from a very young age—and even while she was still living with humans, she was, at least, aware of what pokémon were.”
 “…That’s a good point,” Chimecho agreed. “So, then, who is this human? And what happened to Laura?”
 “I think… I think it might still be Laura,” Drowzee said. “Just… not our Laura. And… maybe she doesn’t actually go by that name?”
 “Oh my gosh! What do you mean by that? How could she be Laura, but not Laura?” Sunflora asked.
 “Laura—older Laura… our Laura? …you know who I mean—right before she was hit with that light, when she was talking about the human that she saw in her vision… after we established that it probably wasn’t her next incarnation (and thank Arceus we managed to figure that out), she said something about her looking ‘familiar’ and talking about how she ‘looked like a younger version of the very first.’ Since this human is probably the one she saw in her vision, maybe when she said ‘first’… she meant her very first incarnation?” He looked around the room at everyone’s stunned expressions. “If that’s the case… if this is the very first Rainbow Child… and if she really is an actual child right now… then wouldn’t it make sense that she doesn’t know what pokémon are? I mean… we don’t really know how old she was during the Time Gear Legend, right?”
 “…And in that case, considering the nature of reincarnation… she would, essentially, be our Laura, and yet… not,” Chatot extrapolated. “That… makes a great deal of sense. Especially given that Jirachi, apparently, needed to use more power than usual to grant such a wish. I can only imagine how much power it would take to turn back time on so many separate lives…” he then paused, considering something else that made the theory even more likely. “…And if the child really is at an age before she visited our world for the first time, then it also means that she is also at the age before she faced any real responsibilities as a productive or favored servant of Relatia… or from any responsibilities or consequences from helping to create and, ultimately, complete the Time Gears. Which would fit in perfectly with the spirit of Bidoof’s wish.”
 Again, there was silence as everyone soaked that in.
 “OKAY,” Loudred said. “So… now that THAT’S been established… what do we do NOW?”
 “Oh my gosh, yes!” Sunflora agreed. “We know what happened now, and, why… but how do we fix it?”
 “I would assume Jirachi is the only one who can do that, meh heh heh… But since he is currently passed out…?” Croagunk shrugged, trying to affect an air of nonchalance to hide his worry—not that anyone actually bought it.
 “So… what should we do in the meantime?” Chimecho fretted. “Can we… can we really take care of the two of them while they’re like this?”
 “Of course we can!” Wigglytuff exclaimed, sounding shocked that one of his apprentices would think otherwise. “They’re our friendly-friends, after all! And they need our help!”
 “And, hey, hey, since this is basically Bidoof’s fault, anyways, we can just leave most of the hard work to him,” Corphish reasoned.
 Bidoof winced at the reminder of his role in matter, but agreed readily. “Yup yup… and I reckon I’ve got a fair bit of experience with kids that will come in handy, what with my little siblings and all. And,” he shrugged a bit sheepishly, “maybe I’ll be able to wake Jirachi up a little quicker? Since I’m apparently pretty good at that…”
 “Great!” Wigglytuff declared.
 “If you need any help, I’d be glad to do what I can,” Drowzee offered. “I mean… since everything is still getting settled with the new team, I have plenty of time on my hands.”
 “Yes, that would help a great deal,” Chatot agreed. “We do still have a guild to run, after all! As for what to do first… hrm… Bidoof, since this is, however accidentally it may have been, technically speaking your fault…”
 “Oof… you don’t have to be so blunt about it…”
 “…tomorrow you will be in charge of managing the affairs Team Rainbow left undone today, what with the late hour of their return—greeting the pokémon whose job requests they completed today, settling things with Officer Magnezone in regards to the outlaws they helped capture, sorting through and cataloguing the supplies and treasures they acquired… and so on and so forth.”
 Bidoof groaned at all the extra work, but readily agreed. “Yup, yup… I reckon that’s fair… sigh…”
 “Hey, hey! What should we do about the kids right now, though?” Corphish asked. “It’s kind of late, and it’s dark out, so it would probably be a bad idea to take them out to Sharpedo Bluff right now, right? If only because of all the attention they’re sure to get at the moment.”
 “Oh my gosh, yes! And kids like them probably need early bedtimes, anyways!” Sunflora added.
 “They probably haven’t eaten yet, either… so maybe we should feed them first? And then figure out a place for them to sleep?” Chimecho asked, frowning, as she contemplated whether she knew any specifically kid-oriented recipes.
 “Meh heh heh… But before all that… shouldn’t we figure out where the kids actually are?” Croagunk suddenly put in, his laugh sounding more nervous than unnerving, for once.
 “HUH?” everyone asked, turning towards him. He merely pointed to the spot where Laura (or at least, the girl who would one day become Laura, but who they were still going to call Laura in their heads for now because they weren’t entirely sure what her name actually was during that first lifetime) and Paula were sitting at the start of Drowzee’s tale… the spot which had, upon further reflection, been suspiciously quiet, given the general nature of small, likely bored children…
 …Only to find it empty. The children, being, again, small, and likely bored, had somehow wandered away unnoticed during the discussion, and now they had no idea where the duo went.
 “AAAH! WE LOST THE CHILDREN!!!”
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dreamss-of-boston · 5 years
Text
Rise - ch8
link on AO3!
thank u for being patient with my updates! i forgot to post ch8 here when i uploaded it to AO3, so sorry about that! the plot is thickening hehe and chapter 9 should be coming out soon. thank u for reading love u bye!
- the flame -
Darkness-- and a stench of rot.
Sonya stumbled blindly, feeling out in front of her desperately for something to hold on to. Her heart was racing, and all she knew was that she was being chased by something as she ran to escape it. No matter how hard she pumped her legs, it felt as if she were swimming through molasses. Her muscles were so weak, and she didn’t feel safe or clear-headed in the slightest as she raced away from the monstrous being behind her.
There was a sharp scream which seemed to come from everywhere all at once, and slammed against her eardrums, causing Sonya to stop dead. Slowly, a dim light illuminated what was before her: Anna, laying upside-down, with her mouth gaping open as her hands were glued to either side of her head. She was staring at Sonya, her pupils shrunken and horrified. But Sonya couldn’t tell if Anna could see her-- she attempted to call out to her, but her voice was choked. She tried again, this time to scream at her, but no matter how hard she tried, her voice was raspy and quiet, as if she had lost it completely.
As Sonya reached up to her throat to see what was wrong, huge steaming fingers wrapped around her torso, lifting her off of the ground. She craned her head back to see what was behind her, and just as the gaping mouth of a titan came into view, Sonya was thrust back into the sunlight streaming into her room through the window.
“Sonya!” Mabel said, louder this time, and with a shove to Sonya’s shoulder. The curly-haired girl jumped with a gasp, gripping her bed linens with ferocity as she awoke from her nightmare.
Mabel sat back with a sigh, her worried eyes glued to the little soldier before her. “You were really scaring me… Did you have a nightmare again?”
It was the third day that Sonya had been back from her trip with the officers to the capitol. The night she had discovered the name and the man Dimitri Romanova was the night that her sleep terrors began. After she and Levi had deemed it safe enough to leave the roof without being detected, they had parted without another word. Sonya didn’t want to speak with him-- and at the moment, she couldn’t care less about what sort of plans the soldiers had been talking about, because all she could focus on was the prospect of having a family above ground.
Levi could believe she was a whore all he wanted-- and while Sonya had learned everything there was to learn about being one during her upbringing, she had never put those lessons to use with any man. She left before they could make her-- before her mother could make her a special on the menu.
“Sorry, I’m-- I’m okay.” Sonya said shakily, sitting up and wiping beads of sweat from her forehead. Now that she looked at herself, her whole body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, dampening her bed sheets and sleep clothes.
Sonya’s room had an extra bed due to Anna’s absence, and so to save on space and prevent soldiers having to sleep with three to a room, Mabel had become Sonya’s new roommate. The two girls hadn’t really been close during training, but they definitely didn’t hate each other. Luckily for Sonya, Mabel was a quiet and respectful roommate, even if she didn’t understand what Sonya was going through.
Mabel stayed by Sonya’s side, watching the girl cautiously as she slowed her breathing and came to terms with being in the waking world.
“I’m sorry you’re having all these nightmares,” Mabel said, probably because she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“It’s okay.” Sonya said with the best smile she could manage. “Guess it happens to everyone eventually here, huh?”
Mabel looked at Sonya uneasily, who realized that what she said was awkward and stupid. Sonya cleared her throat, peeling herself from her bed as she changed into her uniform. Mabel did the same.
“Today’s when the real shit starts.” Mabel sighed, tying her long, dark brown hair up in a high ponytail. “Captain Shorty is training us today.”
Sonya groaned, wrestling her own thick curly hair into a bun with moderate success. “Why the hell is he training us? He’s skilled, sure, but I bet he’s gonna be a shitty teacher.”
Mabel shrugged. “Who knows?”
Actually, it was Erwin Smith’s idea. Since the Survey Corps were granted permission to go ahead with their mission of capturing a titan, he had asked Levi privately if he would give some extra training to the new recruits.
“Why the hell would I do that?” Levi had asked irritably. “Those brats passed training already. What can I teach them that they don’t already know?”
“New techniques.” Erwin had reasoned. “You handle your equipment very uniquely--”
“Did you forget the last time I tried to show people how I used my equipment?”
“No, I didn’t forget,” Erwin said patiently, and actually seemed amused at the memory. “But this mission requires the greatest amount of tact, and the least amount of casualties. You have the highest success rate out of any soldier in the Corps; you never know what might get through to them.” The blonde man smiled a little. “You’re a better teacher than you give yourself credit for.”
Levi huffed. “I’ll only do it if it’s an order.”
“Then it’s an order.”
And so there they were, the ten soldiers up to be trained by Captain Levi today, with Sonya, Mabel, Ada, and Peter among them. They stood at attention, lined up in front of the patch of forestry located about three miles outside of town, awaiting to probably be verbally abused.
“Sonya, your uniform--!” Ada hissed to the girl next to her, who was not at all thrilled to be there.
“What?” Sonya said irritably.
“Your shirt’s untucked.” Ada rolled her eyes. “Do you seriously wanna start the day by pissing him off over little stuff like that?”
Sonya just shrugged; she really couldn’t care less what Levi thought about her uniform. She wondered for a moment if all the nice interactions they had shared had been merely pretense, and that Levi didn’t respect her at all because of her past. That thought caused her heart to sink, strangely enough; perhaps it was because she thought that she had been getting somewhere with the Captain.
With a deep breath, Sonya attempted to dispel all those distracting thoughts from her mind; she didn’t perform well with a clouded conscience. Edith Gutherie and Levi were just exiting from the trees, presumably having just surveyed the training equipment for the upcoming session. As they landed on the ground with ease, she couldn’t help but notice how Levi looked a little more irritated than usual. Perhaps he didn’t want to do this just as much as they did.
And yet, Sonya felt no pity at all for the dark-haired captain.
Levi and Edith stood in front of the soldiers, surveying the group they had today.
“Let’s begin.” Levi said.
[-]
And with another thud, Sonya smacked into the trunk of a tree, her swords clanging to the grass below.
“Faster, Romanova!” Edith scolded from the trees. “And look out for the arms-- they move faster than you think!”
The Corps had whipped up some pretty fancy training equipment as of late, with pulley devices on the wooden models of titans which could be used to imitate the large, flailing arms of the beasts. Some officers were operating the limbs of each model titan, but the soldiers hadn’t made it very far in to the simulation. It even seemed like the veteran soldiers were having a blast smacking the new recruits around, as every time Sonya was hit, she heard muffled laughter coming from the branches where the soldiers resided.
“She isn’t completely at fault.” Levi spoke up, narrowing his eyes at the soldiers operating the titan. “I find it interesting that you brats find titans attacking your comrades to be funny.” Sonya ignored the leap of happiness within her at Levi coming to her defense.
“Ah, Captain, it is a little funny!” Peter quipped from a nearby branch. “Personally, I love seeing Sonya get smacked around a little-- it keeps her humble.”
The soldiers chuckled at that, but Sonya was not in the mood to find that amusing.
“Why don’t you try it out, then?” She called up to the red-haired boy.
“Oh, alright!” Peter sighed, unsheathing his blades. “I’ll slay this titan for my lady.” He said dutifully, and while Sonya descended to the ground to retrieve her blades, Peter swooped down to the mock titan to begin his attempt.
WHACK!
Sonya glanced up, and burst into laughter when she found that Peter had somehow tangled himself in his ODM gear, hanging precariously close to the ‘mouth’ of the titan.
“What a delicious snack you are, Peter!” Sonya called up to him.
“I get that all the time!” He called back, but couldn’t seem to untangle himself from the wiring, causing a laughing Mabel and Ernst to come to his rescue.
[-]
Slice, slice, slice!
Levi landed on a tree branch far in front of the soldiers, looking back expectantly through the path he had created. There were gaping chunks missing from the model titans-- ones he had created and ordered the soldiers to watch close as he showed them what he expected them to do.
“Go on.” He said, raising an eyebrow.
Oh, shit-- he wanted them to do what he had just done? The soldiers exchanged worried looks; first of all, he had moved with deadly speed, and the cuts he had cast were quite deep, so there was no point in them making new ones. Was this an exercise merely in agility?
Levi sighed, irritated that the soldiers couldn’t piece together why they were doing what they were doing.
“I have no doubts that you all are strong-- you made it past training, and one of you actually slayed a titan.” His gaze lingered on Sonya, who’s heart swelled a little at the acknowledgment. She promptly shut those feelings down. “But, Commander Erwin is putting you all through this training for you to see a new way to use your gear. If you’ll notice,” Levi gestured to his gas canisters. “I didn’t use any gas. Your goal is to follow my path, using the same technique.” Assuming he had sufficiently explained himself, he grew more irritated that still, the soldiers stood there dumbly. “Go.”
Sonya set her jaw-- no one else was going to jump in and look the fool, so she decided to take one for the team. No gas, huh? Using the gas as a propellent was her favorite part of the ODM gear; and while she was still seething at Levi’s comment a few days ago, she was still a soldier required to follow orders.
With a huff, she tapped off the branch, swinging down to mimic the strikes Levi had created-- with little success. While she did technically hit every mark, she was moving painfully slowly and awkwardly; without the extra boost, she had to rely on momentum she did not currently have. Clumsily, she landed on the same branch as Levi, who was looking at her with an unimpressed gaze.
“That was pathetic.” He sighed, and Sonya’s comrades on the other side faltered in disappointment.
Sonya furrowed her brows in intense anger, as her gut tightened from the effort of holding back a million insults. With a deep breath, she attempted to explain herself.
“Captain, I don’t think the execution of the technique was properly explained.” She said, carefully choosing each word. Levi raised an eyebrow.
“Are you saying you didn’t understand?” He clarified, crossing his arms.
‘No, I’m saying you’re a shitty teacher!’ Sonya thought, but attempted once again to be rational and calm. “I’m saying, you could have actually explained how you did what you did.” Well, that wasn’t very tactful. The entire training squad had fallen silent, all eyes glued to Levi and Sonya.
“So, your failure is my doing?” Levi prompted her dangerously. He was expecting Sonya to be reduced to a puddle of apologies like all of her other comrades when face-to-face with him, but instead, she held his gaze evenly, grinding her teeth in an effort to stay sane. She decided not to hold back-- she had had it with him and his stupid apathy and his rude remarks.
“A student’s performance reflects the teacher’s instruction.” She bit out; Levi raised his eyebrows, and all of the soldiers present held their breath. He took a dangerous step towards her.
“How wise,” he said lowly, “you come up with that yourself?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact.” Sonya narrowed her eyes, refusing to break eye contact, tensing as he moved towards her. If he wanted to fight, she was more than willing. Her eyes dipped to his lips for just a moment, remembering how harshly the word ‘whore’ had fallen from them, how he had so casually assumed the worst of her.
“Do you need more instruction, cadet?” Levi tilted his head to the side; his dark eyes were glinting with some emotion that Sonya didn’t entirely recognize-- something passionate.
“Please.” She said through barred teeth.
“Very well.” He let out a huff. “After dinner you will come to my office. Plan on staying late.” He added the last part with a bit of venom, as if the threat of coming to his office wasn’t enough. Sonya felt a stone drop in her stomach, and her chest tightened in fear. Only the worst of the worst went to Levi’s office-- she had only heard horror stories.
With a glance to her comrades across from her, they only looked dismayed and mournful for her. Sonya decided that during dinner, she would plan her funeral.
[-]
“Sonya, you have to eat.” Mabel said gently, nudging the girl’s tray closer to her. Sonya just sat, staring dumbly in front of her.
“I’m done for. I’m gonna be beaten to a pulp.” She said, and Mabel and Ada exchanged a look.
“Don’t be so dramatic, curly-cue,” Peter said around a mouthful of bread. That new nickname earned a look from Sonya. “What? Your hair is curly as hell-- there isn’t a whole lotta material I can work with here.”
“Maybe he’ll let you off easy; maybe he’s just gonna tell you you have a month’s cleaning duty in the stables.” Ada said helpfully, smiling at Peter’s antics.
“He said to plan on staying late,” Sonya’s head fell into her hands. “He’s gonna kill me and make it look like an accident.��� She sighed angrily. “Why can’t I just keep my dumb mouth shut?”
“Well, I for one, am supportive of you going to the guillotine for this.” Mabel interjected. “Everything you said was right-- he didn’t explain anything. We literally didn’t accomplish anything today.”
“That’s not true.” Peter countered, holding his spoon up as a pointing tool. “Today we determined that those new training titans are a piece of shit, waste of time.”
Ada giggled. “Seriously, what were they thinking, designing that?”
While Sonya’s friends laughed and continued living, the curly-haired girl stared at her plate with empty eyes, dreading her inevitable execution.
[-]
A timid knock-- maybe if she knocked quietly enough, he wouldn’t hear, and he would forget about his threat, and then Sonya could continue living.
“Come in,” came his bored voice from behind the door. With a resigned sigh, she pushed the door open, and stepped into the office, closing it behind her.
Levi’s office was nothing special-- dark wooden walls, cold stone floors, a burning fireplace near the desk he was sitting behind. Books and folders lined the walls, and everything was immaculately clean and organized. She stood a safe distance away from the desk, her hands clasped behind her back as she fought to control her racing heart.
“Sit.” He said, discarding the paper he had been focusing on to now look at Sonya. She bit the inside of her cheek, and did as she was told, sitting in the chair across from Levi. He sighed, leaning back in his chair with the same annoyed/bored expression he always had. “Your attitude has been pissing me off,” he began, “and it didn’t used to. Actually, you were sort of amusing. But now, it seems, your sole mission in life has been to be a pain in my ass.” He raised an eyebrow at the girl in front of him. “Care to explain?”
Sonya relaxed a little in her seat-- it seemed that the physical punishment would not come just yet. She wasn’t sure how to approach this situation, but she was nonetheless surprised that Levi was attempting to understand her before he doled out any punishment. It softened her, the thought that he seemed to be affected by her attitude.
“Well,” she started uncomfortably, “you… called me a whore, sir.”
Levi sighed. “That’s what’s been bothering you?”
“You say that like it isn’t a big deal.” Sonya deadpanned.
“Because it isn’t.” Levi retorted. Sonya felt all of the softness she previously had dissipate completely as she frowned at the captain. “You were a whore-- I was a thief. And here we are.”
“I wasn’t a whore!” Sonya spat. “I never--” with a blush, she cut herself off. Why did she even have to explain herself, anyway?
“Hm? Never what?” Levi pressed, and Sonya could swear she heard a warmth of amusement in his voice. She refused to look at him, and instead glared at her folded hands in her lap.
“Well, I…” She sighed, feeling her blush deepen. “I learned how to… do everything; I p-practiced with the others, but… I never… got paid, or did anything with a man. I got out before--”
“Before they made you fuck anyone.” Levi finished, unbothered by his crass wording. Sonya bit the inside of her cheek, bringing herself to look at the captain. She was surprised to find he was now sitting up, his elbows propped against the desk in interest. A smile almost played on his lips, but Sonya decided it was her turn to grill him. She was already being punished, so fuck it.
“Why were you half-assing training today?” She crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows expectantly. Levi sat back and looked up with a sigh.
“Because, I’ve found that it’s best for people to find their own unique ways to best use their ODM. Attempting to learn how I use mine would be too complicated and time-consuming.”
Sonya hummed, glancing around the room. She wasn’t sure what to do-- she didn’t really have any more questions for him, and wasn’t that interested in staying around if all he was going to do was call her a whore and dig into her past.
“So, if you’re not a whore,” Levi continued, “then you’re just a pretty little pain in my ass.”
Sonya couldn’t help but play off of that. She batted her eyelashes at him, giving him a coy smile. “Oh, captain, you think I’m pretty?”
“I do.” Levi said flatly, which caught Sonya off-guard. Usually when someone called her pretty, they were smiling or flustered or drunk. Levi was none of those things-- he was just saying it like it was a fact. She wasn’t sure how to respond to the captain being so candid, so she just stood and perused the bookshelf beside the desk. She felt Levi's stone colored eyes follow her, his gaze sending a chill down her spine. Absentmindedly, she pulled a book out to examine it, but found a greater treasure behind it.
“Well, well, well,” Sonya grinned, reaching into the bookshelf and pulling out a half-drunk bottle of dark liquor. Levi raised an eyebrow, meeting her gaze that said, ‘can we?’. With a shrug, he gave his consent, and Sonya unscrewed the bottle, taking a brave swig.
The dark drink burned on the way down, and she coughed a little as she passed the bottle to Levi. “Bourbon?” She said.
Levi nodded, taking his own swig in turn, almost completely unaffected by it. It was strange, being tucked away in his office, drinking in comradery; even though she came in fearing for her life, she now seemed to be feeling more at ease. He really wasn’t all that bad. Clearly, he cared a bit about her, even if he was rude and blunt.
Levi stood, coming around the desk to join Sonya in front of the bookshelf. He passed her the bottle, and she took another swig, then another. She found that she was sort of craving the warm numbness that alcohol provided her with. That, accompanied with the warmth from the fire and the late hour made Sonya quite content.
“Have you read all of these?” She asked, gesturing to the array of books in front of them. Levi took the bottle from her, taking another sip.
“No. I think I’ve only read one.” He said, pointing out a little book on the middle shelf. “I don’t have much time to read.”
“Me, neither.” Sonya picked out the book, thumbing through the pages. She took the bottle, took another swig. The alcohol began to warm her bones and relax her nerves. “Y’know, I came in here expecting to be… I dunno, beaten up?”
Levi raised an eyebrow. “I don’t beat up my cadets just for shits and giggles. You were mouthing off today, but you were right. I’m shit at explaining things.”
Sonya smiled-- she loved being right, and she especially loved that Levi admitted it. Just as she was about to take another swig, Levi caught the bottle in her hand, gently pulling it out of her grasp.
“Boo,” Sonya pouted, crossing her arms. ‘Well, I guess my punishment had to happen eventually.’ She thought sourly.
Levi gingerly set the bottle down on the desk. “Show me what you learned.” He said quietly.
Sonya jerked her head to look at him, leaning on the desk beside her. “Huh?”
“Show me some of what you learned down there.” Levi repeated, hooking her green eyes with his steely gray ones. Was he serious? He had to have been joking; but he didn’t crack a smile, of course. The fire was flickering, reflected in his gaze, but it wasn’t the fire that was causing Sonya to warm up. She attributed that to the alcohol-- in fact, moving forward, Sonya attributed everything to the alcohol.
“Sure.” She let out a breathy laugh-- this was silly, and wildly inappropriate, but it seemed she had a streak of acting out of place that she needed to keep up. “This one’s one of my favorites.” Sonya moved to stand in front of Levi, who opened his arms to her, resting his palms on the desk behind him. He was watching her with intensity as she reached up, pulling the red ribbon from her hair, which cascaded wonderfully over her neck and shoulders.
Levi’s gaze followed her hands, which took hold of either end of the ribbon, lifting it over his head to rest languidly around the back of his neck. His gaze fluttered back to meet hers, her green eyes slightly hooded, a coy smile playing on her plump lips.
“Then I just,” She gently tugged on the ribbon, pulling Levi with her as she pressed herself up against the wall between the bookshelf and the fire. Levi followed obediently, and lazily placed his hands on the wall on either side of Sonya: one by her waist, the other by her shoulder. She attempted to swallow her nerves, but her throat and mouth were incredibly dry as the distance between them seemed to close rapidly. She could smell grass and smoke mingling with Levi-- it was a pleasant scent, warm and musky. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening-- any minute now, she was expecting him to pull away and make fun of her. But he didn’t; Levi’s eyes roamed over her face, down her neck, to her chest, and all the way down her body. He was ravishing her with his gaze, and Sonya didn’t realize she had been slowly pulling him closer until she felt his breath, hot against her cheek, his lips dangerously close to her tingling flesh.
She sucked in a breath. “Then, I’d uh-- I’d kiss you.”
Levi hummed in response, bringing his finger to ghost over her jawline, gingerly taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “So do it.” He murmured, sending chills throughout Sonya’s body. She was very much aware of the warmth pooling in her core, setting her inner thighs and gut ablaze. She wondered if he knew-- of course he did. Sonya’s eyes were captivated on his lips, her breath hitched in her throat.
When they brought their eyes up to meet each other’s, Sonya was done for. She felt so incredibly nervous as Levi leaned closer, his whole body beginning to press into hers. Her eyes fluttered shut as she met him halfway; she gently pressed her lips against his, barely feeling the soft flesh meeting hers. It was such a tender, innocent kiss-- Sonya felt herself become about ten pounds lighter at the contact, and couldn’t help the little smile that was forming on her lips.
Levi’s hand moved to cup her cheek as he kissed her again, pressing his lips onto hers a bit harder this time. Sonya took a chance and opened her mouth just a bit, capturing Levi’s lower lip and sucking on it briefly before running her tongue over the same spot. Levi opened his mouth in response, clearly taking that and running with it as he darted his tongue inside Sonya’s mouth, licking the roof of it hungrily.
Sonya couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t want to if it meant kissing Levi like this. Her head spun as she reached up, tangling her fingers in his silky black hair, while Levi's other hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her body closer to his as he deepened the kiss. Sonya sighed, tilting her head as she caught Levi's lower lip with her teeth, and felt a jolt in her gut when his lips curled up in a smile at what she did.
He pulled away, slowly kissing Sonya's jaw to move down to her neck, dragging his tongue along her sensitive skin, sucking and biting. Sonya bit her lip, feeling like every kiss Levi planted on her skin was a spark of fire, igniting her body and senses. She tilted her head back, inviting Levi to do more. He leaned down to her collarbone, gently pushing the collar of her shirt out of the way as he bit down gently, then sucked with some hunger, earning a stifled gasp from Sonya. Levi pulled away with a small grin, his lips wet and swollen. Sonya looked down at her collarbone, seeing the beginnings of a hickey form, and she blushed.
Levi gingerly tucked some hair behind her ear, and the two leaned in to each other to kiss again, but a knock on Levi's office door startled them both away from each other. Sonya looked to Levi in a panic, but he just shrugged-- though he looked annoyed-- and went to answer the door.
It was Hange.
“Good evening, you two!” She said brightly, strolling right on in. “Ah, hello, Sonya! Actually, it's a good thing you're here. Some kid from the Garrison regiment is here to see you-- he looked pretty familiar.”
Sonya's gut tied itself into a knot; the Garrison regiment? Her mind flashed back to the night on the roof with Levi, the hushed conversation between the Garrison soldiers and the MPs. She and Levi exchanged a glance.
“What does he want with her?” Levi said irritably. “We were in the middle of something.”
Sonya's face flushed a deep red, but Hange didn't seem to notice.
“Yes, yes, I heard about Sonya's disobedience today. You can sentence her to cleaning the stables later-- this kid was pretty insistent to see her.” Hange shrugged.
Levi looked Sonya up and down. “Do you want to go see him?” He asked casually, but his gaze was loaded with… was that concern?
Sonya could only hope it was Dimitri-- the one who shared her name. Her only family on the surface was here. But why? How had he figured out her last name if they had only met once in a tavern? He didn't know that she and Levi had been spying on them, did he?
A million questions were racing through Sonya's mind, but she overwhelmingly knew the answer to the question Levi had asked her.
“Yes.” She said a little too eagerly. Levi raised an eyebrow, then looked to Hange.
“Alright! He's just down this way.” She said, but shot a glance to Levi as if to say 'we'll discuss whatever deeper meaning is here later.’
Sonya was led out into the hallway, around the corner and outside to the stables, where she could see only one man waiting by the light of a torch. His back was turned to her, but Sonya's breath was still caught in her throat as she approached the man.
As Sonya came closer, he turned, with the same languid smile she had seen before in the tavern.
“Hello,” Dimitri drawled. “It seems we have a lot to discuss.”
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pomrania · 6 years
Text
Halloween story for Smoky
(Written 7 October 2018 for @smokyblues. Content warnings: violence against monsters, author has minimal experience writing fights, gore, gross things ending up in one's mouth, and it's pretty disjointed because I had no idea what I was doing at any point in time.)
Magic was weird. In the form that it was most commonly encountered, it was controlled by word and gesture; it didn't always do what the magician wanted, but the results were still predictable. When used by a trained professional, magic was reliable and allowed for otherwise-impossible feats of architecture and exploration.
Uncontrolled magic, all you could do was go with the flow and react to what happened, because you didn't have any say in what it would do.
You weren't helpless in the face of uncontrolled magic though, not by a long shot. Years of study -- like that which Devon's younger sister was currently engaged in -- could teach you some of the patterns, and let you prepare ahead of time. And, even if monsters were spontaneously generated by magic, they were just as vulnerable to a shovel upside the head as any natural-born creature.
His sister was able to explain why the monsters appeared for one specific day every autumn, although not in terms that normal people could understand, and warn them if there was going to be anything unusual about them. Without her saying that the monsters would be able to breathe fire one particular year, in time for everyone to prepare basic fire-safety measures, half the town probably would have burnt down. However, the people in town knew how to deal with the monsters appearing. And once Devon got into the swing of things, both figuratively and literally, he understood why it was such an anticipated holiday.
The streets were empty of anything that could be damaged, and anybody who didn't want to or couldn't fight. Special boards had been set down, to keep people from slipping too badly once the ground was covered in blood and viscera. Everyone knew where they could find medical care or extra weapons if needed. Preparations were complete. Now there was just the waiting....
And the tension broke, as the first monsters stumbled into view, and were immediately attacked by the people who'd decided to wait on the west side of town. Behind him, Devon could hear muttering and coins changing hands. There were always bets as to where the monsters would first appear and at what time of day, and what they would look like. He didn't take part in it. It was only a distraction from the main event.
He did one last check, patting himself over to confirm that his protective clothing was all properly secured, and his weapons were easily accessed. Then he took a deep breath, let out all his nervous energy into a battle cry, and charged into the fray.
The monsters had green blood this time. Judging by how his neighbour Rebecca -- she'd made good on her promise to bring a ridiculously-large axe this time, and had cut a monster full in half -- was coated in it, and she didn't seem in any pain, it was a safe bet that it wasn't acidic. Good; that one year had been incredibly frustrating for everyone involved. It just wasn't as fun, when you had to either be buried in layers of leather or constantly keep a safe distance.
Devon started off by swinging his club at a monster who'd dodged towards him, away from another villager. The club was already in his hands, and it would be easy to replace, if the monsters turned out to have really thick skin or bones. Stout wood and inhuman flesh made contact with a hearty thwack that he could feel travelling up to his shoulders. He saw bone jutting out from his strike that had caved in part of the ribcage. It wasn't enough to put a monster down, but he knew how much force to put behind each blow now.
Their skin was tough, like imitation dragonhide. Their bones however were wonderfully brittle, and snapped with anything more than a glancing hit.
The people who had brought spears were having a tough time. Or maybe not, he mentally amended as he took a brief glance about. Sure, they weren't able to score an instant kill, but the ability to repeatedly stab something had its own charm.
He found a rhythm quickly enough. Crush the nearest shoulder, to disable the arm. Attack the other elbow if it's an immediate threat, the torso to create an opening, hip to prevent movement. Disable the monster. Wipe sweat away from brow if needed. Look around for any active monsters in the immediate vicinity. If so, move along to them instead. If not, finish off the downed monster. Pulverize any remaining functional limbs. Break the thicker bones of the skull. Pause for breath. Watch for any twitching. Move on to the next.
His style of fighting didn't show him what the monsters looked like on the inside. By the time he was through with one, it resembles nothing more than an ugly lump-filled leather sack; its very innards wouldn't properly look like its innards. Devon caught glimpses, out of the corner of his eye, but he mostly just saw wet green that glistened in the light.
That all changed when he was forced to acknowledge that he needed a break. His foot slipped on a bloody patch -- red blood, the combat hadn't been entirely one-sided -- and he wasn't able to prevent himself from going down. He found himself face to ruined face with a thankfully-dead monster. Before he had time to wonder if he was in danger, he realized that the only nearby movement came from Rebecca and the monster she was fighting.
"Find somewhere to sit and catch your breath," she called as she sliced through its neck, neatly and pointlessly dodging the blood that splurted out. "We're all good for the moment."
He felt a surge of irrational anger directed at her. It didn't matter that she'd spent the last five months training for this day and building up her stamina; it still felt horribly unfair that she wasn't even slightly winded.
"There's a bench just to your right and behind you, you can get there without even having to stand up."
He deliberately stood up and walked the one and a half steps it took to reach the bench. He wasn't going to do what she said just because she had good advice and knew what she was talking about and was stronger and faster than him and apparently looked good in green and this was incredibly not the time to realize that he might be attracted to her.
Instead of considering any of that, Devon very intently studied the ground beside the bench. Someone had apparently disembowelled a monster before kicking its corpse off to the side, where it now lay. The guts spilled like deformed tubers out of the abdominal cavity; they only vaguely resembled anything that belonged inside of an animal. They were considerably paler than the rest of the exposed flesh, but thankfully for his continued peace of mind, they looked nothing like maggots. Now that was an idea which didn't bear thinking about, at all.
Its chest was still intact; and even if he needed to rest, he was bored with the inactivity and he wanted to break something. Without any real goal in mind, other than to crush its ribs, he swung his club down in a lazy arc.
Blood and fluids flew up from the impact. The skin and flesh were cut open, so, he belatedly realized, the insides weren't contained. He spat out green fluids, and intently wished that he had literally anything to wash the horrible taste out of his mouth with. Even that disgusting brew which the blacksmith falsely labelled "beer" would be better than that. He made do with what he had, because there was nothing else he could do; he pulled a mostly-clean cloth from his inner tunic, and scrubbed inside his mouth and wiped off his face. He spat again.
It only made sense that such foul creatures would taste correspondingly foul. He spared a wishful thought that maybe, one year, the monsters could be giant turkeys or pumpkins. That would make it the best holiday, throughout all the land: monsters to kill, and when you were done with them, you could eat them. Of course, if they provided any use whatsoever, they wouldn't be "monsters", after all. Things didn't work that way.
Ah well. No use in daydreaming. He felt he was sufficiently rested by now. He was on the roster for tomorrow, to help clean up after the monsters and the fighting; he might as well be the cause of some more of the mess. Get his money's full worth, as it were.
He picked up his club, and glanced down. That monster was already dead, but it had caused him considerable frustration despite that, and there was still a half of its head that wasn't crushed....
A minute later his arms were sore from exertion and he had worked up a sweat again, but now he knew what the monsters' brains looked like, especially when spread over the street.
He headed off for the fighting again.
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texanredrose · 6 years
Text
By Moonlight - The Killing
Yang didn't need to think. 
She pushed away from Winter, began charging for Cardin, hardly catching sight of the little vial glowing with some sort of hex. 
On the upside, it meant he wasn't a warlock, because those sort of contained spells weren't designed for magic users, always running the chance of reacting to the magic running through a warlock's veins. 
On the downside, though, it meant there was no stopping the damn thing from being released as he tossed it towards the dais, neither Blake nor Weiss familiar with such devices to know that the little vial spelled their doom. 
So the hunter did the only thing left to her- she jumped, diving to intercept the projectile, hoping the enchantments in her furs and armor might protect her and counteract whatever was in the vial as the fragile glass broke. 
But that was a touch too optimistic. 
She fell to the ground, a scream tearing from her chest as lightning ran throughout her body, weaving agony in its wake. Her dragon magic emerged, but a touch too late, now fighting a spell designed to paralyze its target and torture the person in the prison of their own body, images at the edges of her vision, old faces she hadn't seen in years lingering just out of focus.
A growl loud enough to rattle bones echoed in the room before screams joined hers but she couldn't parse what happened, writhing against the stone floor as she regained and lost her mobility in turns, all the while trying her hardest to ground herself in the moment. 
"Huntress!" A voice called, alarmed and worried, and then hands on her somewhere. "Yang, can you hear me?" 
Was that someone else or the same person? Her hearing started suffering, whispers sounding like those long dead with words- what were they saying? 
Where was she? 
"Call for the castle healer! Any healer! Any witch or wiz-" 
"Stop your screaming." A tired voice drawled as it came closer. "It's giving me a headache." 
Yang didn't dare open her eyes; she could feel her body trying to shift, because taking her dragon form would increase her innate magic, would make fight back the hex so much easier, but the hall was too crowded. If she swung her tail, she'd likely send people flying, and she couldn't keep her human form still at the moment. 
It was too dangerous and the last thing any of them needed was a dragon showing up- a creature often seen as a bad omen in Atlas. At the same time... everything hurt. 
"Stop your thrashing and look at me." Her eyes opened to see the former Queen looming over her, a frown on her lips. "Ah, a dragon. That would explain why you're still alive. Now open your mouth." She pulled her lips back, hoping it would be enough to display why that was a bad idea, her teeth already beginning to enlarge and sharpen into fangs. "Try harder, you overgrown lizard."
"Mother." Weiss- it must've been her- warned as the shouting and growling stopped. "I'm quite certain Winter is fond of her-" 
"Then she can thank me in the morning. Open. Up." The hex worked deeper, into her chest and stopping her heart for a moment before her dragonfire ignited, restarting her heart and singeing the woman's hair as a burst of fire left her lips. "I should've expected that." Fingers like steel traps grabbed her jaw, holding it open. "This will only take a moment." 
Whining- high, keening, conveying worry and concern- drew closer to her. 
"Keep her back." 
"That's... going to be difficult," Blake said, though shuffling followed. 
In the next moment, Yang's world narrowed to the excruciating sensation of lightning and fire being drawn up her throat and out her mouth, the hex and her own magic sucked out so forcefully beyond unpleasant, and she tried to struggle against the grip holding her jaw open. 
However, with the hex still somewhat in effect, she couldn't seem to get the muscles to cooperate, forced to do nothing more than scream as it felt like her very soul was being pulled from her body. 
"Mother, hurry!" 
"We can't keep her back!"
A few more moments that drug on like small eternities before Yang felt her body slump back to the stone, unsure when her back had arched like a bow, coughing and hacking as her whole body ached. 
"Ha- hah- hag," she said, blinking up as her inner dragon chased away the lingering lightning running through her veins. 
"Excuse you, she just saved your life. I think." 
"Hush, Weiss; she's not insulting me." The woman looked into her eyes, nodding and immediately reaching for her wine. "The stories never differentiate, but hags are witches who specialize in manipulating magic rather than casting it." She took a deep pull, shaking her head and rubbing at her temple. "Don't tell me you're so optimistic as to think this is the first time your father- or one of his cretins- has tried killing any of us with tools he hardly understands; the damned fool only got me to marry him with a love potion. He's always been a puppet in the hands of those thrice blasted warlocks in Vacuo, just like half the court." 
Her chest still burned, but it lessened in degrees as she recovered, having lost some of her own strength in the process. "Does tha... wine help with..."
"It keeps the magic I ingest from taking hold; the smell of alcohol masks the smell created by potions of my own." 
"So that's why father left that poisoned bottle for you? He was trying to take away your own weapon and poison you in the same stroke?" Weiss appeared at the edge of her vision, quickly overshadowed by Winter sticking her face closer, sniffing at Yang. 
The older woman paused, making a noise in the back of her throat. "I honestly thought he knew; I'd never drink from a bottle other than my own. I wonder how many others are poisoned." 
"Did you just leave them there?" 
The werewolf nosed at Yang's hand until she weakly lifted it up, resting it on white fur stained red by blood. 
"Well, I wasn't expecting my daughters to raid my wine cabinet when my back was turned." 
Winter pressed closer, nosing her chest and waist, whining softly as she moved her hand to scratching along the werewolf's jaw. 
"That's a terrible excuse!" 
"Hey... are you okay?" Yang's voice was hoarse and scratchy, eyes falling shut for a moment. Winter whined in response, nosing under her shoulder, as if encouraging her to sit up. "I'm fine... tired, but fine." 
"I'll keep that in mind," the woman said, getting to her feet unsteadily. "Now, congratulations on your ascension to the throne, I wish you happiness in your impending union, and I'll excuse myself from the festivities. I'd suggest you take the Huntress to her rooms; she'll need to recover her strength."
"I can... get there myself." Pushing herself up to her feet, Yang leaned against Winter briefly to gather her strength. "I'll just-" 
The werewolf growled, shooting a look at her sister, which was somehow immediately understood. With a gesture towards her fiancé, the two somehow transferred Yang from her own feet to sitting astride Winter's shoulders. 
"... uh-" 
"Are you really about to argue with her?" Amber eyes glanced down briefly. "I don't think you'll win the fight in your state." 
"Guards!" Weiss yelled out, waving over two men with spears in their hands. "Escort them to the Huntress' quarters. Neither of them are... in a position to open doors." 
"Yes, Your Majesty." 
"Don't I get a say in this?" Her lips lifted in a weak smirk before slumping against Winter's neck. "Ah, nevermind. A night in a bed sounds good."
With that, the werewolf carried her out of the feasting hall, people stepping out of her way and bowing their heads in reverence, more than a few whispering quick prayers for Yang to recover her strength. 
She hardly registered much after they left, lulled into semi consciousness by the easy rocking motion of the werewolf's gait. It stopped only once, accompanied by a growl and the quick shuffling of the guards, moving to go down a different hallway than before, into a part of the castle Yang hadn't been in before- the royal wing. 
Everything looked nicer if more... impersonal. Were it not for the guards leading the way and Winter bearing her weight, she might've passed the door by completely, hardly able to see it among the pristine white walls. 
The antechamber wasn't much better, with everything in its place, if a bit more... damaged, poorly concealed claw marks combined with a fine layer of dust and the musty scent of a room abandoned stinging her nose. Considering she'd spent her nights in the woods and mornings in the shed, Winter probably only came into the room to change clothing daily and avoid suspicion.
The guards excused themselves, at first trying to offer their assistance in moving Yang to the bed and finding that wasn't appreciated, considering how the werewolf began growling. 
"They're just tryin' ta help, y'know." She drawled, sliding from Winter's back and fumbling with the straps and buttons to her furs and armor, letting them fall to the ground and resolving to tidy up when she awoke. The night air bit into her skin, making her shiver as she bent over and pulled at the laces of her boots, which were quickly latched onto by Winter, fangs lightly digging into the leather and tugging. "Heh, thanks, Miss Winter." 
A growl answered her as the other boot was pulled off. 
"I'll keep calling you that until you come up with something different." Finally, she laid back, sighing deeply and cracking her eyes open when she felt the bed dip. 
Although far larger than perhaps the bed could comfortably fit, Winter got up and settled down beside Yang, clearly intending to remain there until she'd recovered. 
"You can go back to the feast," she said. "I'm sure you're hungry." 
The werewolf deeply sighed, settling further into her spot. 
Yang laughed. "Take that as a no. Alright. See ya... in the morning." 
Letting go, she fell into a deep slumber, surrounded by warmth despite not having drawn the covers over herself.
Yang woke slowly, warm and comfortable despite the irritation along her right side. So exhausted from the ordeal, she hadn't even removed her prosthetic, and had rolled onto it sometime during the night, the metal biting into her chest a mild discomfort she could ignore during bone weary slumber but not outside it. However, trying to move immediately became a bit difficult, seeing as an arm was draped over her waist, holding her in place, and her breath caught in her throat at what she might find if she rolled over. 
"I'm awake... to an extent," Winter said, though the words were soft at the edges, warm breath hitting the back of her head. "And I'm wearing clothes." Relieved, she shifted and rolled onto her back, finding the woman beside her in a long shirt that went past the swell of her hips, a contrast to the thin shift Yang wore under her armor and the leggings she couldn't have gotten off the night before due to lack of energy. "I find your sense of modesty odd, for one raised by werewolves."
Her lips curled into a grin. "Just because we're a bunch of beasts doesn't mean we can't be civilized about it."
Winter chuckled, a bright sound in the early morning that made her grin grow; from the stories she'd heard upon arriving in the royal city, she wouldn't think it possible. Surely, half the kingdom thought the entire royal family had no humor at all, but now it seemed that the removal of the dark cloud lording over them gave each the ability to relax, be happy. Weiss obviously wasted no time securing her own happiness; her sister would likely follow in time. 
Which actually brought up a thought. 
"What happened to your brother?" 
A frown tugged at her lips as the woman looked away briefly. "He fled. I don't know any specifics but I can... smell it- fear, panic, on the south wind. He's running and I'm not sure when he'll stop." 
"Are you going to chase him?" It probably wasn't her place to ask. She hunted fearsome and fantastic beasts, not people, but her eyes were glued to the woman's expression. 
"No," she said, eyes unfocused for a moment before she closed them, sighing deeply as she turned into the mattress. "He'll return, someday. Either to beg forgiveness or avenge our father. We'll be ready for him."
"I'm glad you're confident." Yang reached over and detached her prosthetic, sighing in relief. Her shoulder needed time to recover before she got up and faced the day. "He might run to Vacuo. But those warlocks don't like when their toys get taken away." 
"We'll deal with it when it comes," she said, shuffling closer and laying an arm across Yang's stomach. "You should rest. You deserve it." 
A few moments of silence passed, a hundred thoughts ricocheting around inside her skull. "I should start packing." Winter immediately stiffened but she pressed on, staring at the intricate moldings on the ceiling above. "This job's done. I'll need to go report back so no one else comes up here trying to kill you. Plus, I can visit the Elders-" 
"You could send a messenger for that." 
"... I could." 
"But you won't." She pushed herself up, scrubbing at her eyes. "I suppose there's no reason for you to stay, now." 
"And it upsets you." Winter glanced at her, then pointedly directed her gaze elsewhere. Slowly, the hunter sat up, reaching out to lay a hand on her shoulder. "I know it feels like you’re going against who you are, but you have to adapt to this new side of you. Wolves are social and very vocal; they communicate everything with their pack."
"I don't even know what that means." Frustration colored her tone, brows pinching together. "I don't have a pack; as far as I know, there are no werewolves in Atlas besides myself." 
"Your pack isn't just other werewolves." She licked her lips. "Think, right now, if the castle was under siege. An army just outside the gates, swords looking for throats to slit. Who would you rush to protect? Weiss? Blake? Servants? Soldiers?" 
Winter's expression darkened, a flash of gold in her eyes as she tensed, lips pulling back in a snarl. The idea of a threat called to both the elder sibling and the wolf within her, and she replied readily. "Weiss and Blake, yes. Klein. James. Healer Goodwitch..." then blue eyes turned her way. "You." 
Yang nodded, not at all surprised. But that didn’t make it easier. "Packs stick together, usually. You see me as part of your pack; it's only natural to be upset that I'm leaving." 
The woman stood, pulling away from her touch, shaking her head as she paced. "That... it doesn't feel right. There's something else. More."
To some extent, she knew. Humans were weaker creatures- adaptable, resilient, yet ultimately brought down by their own failings- but wolves were sure, steady, they understood their place in the world intrinsically. The wolf in her knew what she wanted... or was at least willing to accept inclinations. 
Shortly after turning, after accepting the mantle of werewolf, it wasn't uncommon for... mistakes to be made, to bond with someone out of gratitude or overwhelming- but, ultimately, short lived- affection. Being the one who helped Winter, of course their bond would be strong... but was it true? 
Yang scratched at the back of her head, looking down at her lap. On the one hand, the werewolf might genuinely want her as a mate... on the other, it could be the byproduct of confusion and stress, a need to have someone- anyone- as a partner.
"Miss Winter... I have to go," she said, watching the woman stop her pacing and look back, a slump to her shoulders. "It's for the best." 
"I don't believe that," she replied, expression smoothing out into polite stoicism, so very much like when they’d first met, minus the aggression. "But I understand I can't change your mind." Pressing her lips into a thin line, Winter turned, retrieving a robe and sliding it over her shoulders. "I'll see to the arrangements myself. You should rest while you can; the packing I'll leave to you, but I'll have a mount and provisions ready when you decide to depart." 
"Thanks." 
Just before stepping out of the bedchamber, the woman turned and offered her a genuine smile. "Thank you, Yang. You've done more than words can say and I'll never be able to express the depths of my gratitude."
Her heart clenched but she offered an answering smile all the same, watching as Winter slipped out before collapsing back against the mattress. 
In the back of her mind, she wondered if she was making the right decision. She liked the woman- the gruff soldier dedicated to her mission, the elder sibling drawing their father's ire to protect her sister, the proud soul learning to show weakness with grace- and with every turn, she discovered more facets, more layers, and each called to her. Yang could fall in love so quickly and it had burned her before; she'd nursed a broken heart, being left behind for one reason or another. And Winter was the sort of person she could fall for, if she hadn't already.
But the doubt lingered. She was a hunter, an adventurer, a warrior scarred from battles- not someone fit to sup with nobles, and she couldn't even be certain Winter truly cared for her. It could just as easily be clinging to someone who understood during a period of uncertainty. A lifeline. 
Distance and time would tell. She was making the right decision. 
For a moment, Yang cast her gaze around, unsure if she wanted to try sleeping a bit later, but she had to shut her eyes. On the dresser, there were little trinkets- bobbles from the southern tips of Atlas, effigies of deities, the sorts of tokens people would give to someone to wish for safe passage- and tucked up in the corner of the vanity mirror was a child's rendering of the royal family with 'me' scrawled above the middle child's white ponytail. 
If she allowed herself to look around... she might never leave. 
"My job is done. Other people need my help," she said, rolling onto her left side and massaging her right shoulder. "This'll pass." 
In a few years, maybe she'll come back out this way. If not for a job, then just to pass through. Maybe she could pen a letter to Blake- the Faunus seemed inclined to discreet communications, given how hard and long she'd worked to keep her relationship with Weiss as secret as either of them could manage. And when she returned, saw Winter standing tall beside her chosen mate, she would be happy for her. Werewolves mated for life and Winter seemed loyal before that. 
Whoever she chose would be lucky. 
Yang shut her eyes, and dozed lightly, entertaining a dozen daydreams. 
The wind blew softly- cold, but bitter only in spurts. New flags flew from every rampart- the old heraldry discarded in favor of a white snowflake on a black field, a wolf's head with a crown between its ears above- and even some of the guards and knights had their uniforms and decorations swapped out for the new design. Weiss' reign was only three days old but the eagerness to embrace her rule was more than telling and her mother, now sober more often than not, provided the wise council she was once so well known for, though she yielded readily when the reigning Queen stood firm.
Yang sighed, her breath coming out in a puff of fog. Early morning in the Atlas winter meant weak light and short days but the people seemed in high spirits, bowing and waving as the little procession made its way through the royal city, towards the southern gate. She'd tried telling them the fanfare wasn't necessary- rarely did the people who hired her personally walk her to the gates for a farewell- but the Queen insisted and there was no talking her out of it. Her head went bare, bereft of the crown of her forefathers, and she'd yet to decide if a new one would be made. Yet, she'd managed to convince Blake to wear the former Queen's, and Yang had to smile at the way the woman had done her best to keep her composure while suggesting it while Blake blushed madly. In hindsight, the Faunus should've probably expected so ostentatious a courtship favor, belated though it may be with the wedding on the way. The royal couple led the little procession, smiling and waving to the people they passed, pausing for a step or two to bend an ear.
Behind them, Yang shuffled along, lead in hand as a horse easily worth more gold than she'd ever carried on her person marched behind her- had to be a war horse, alert and on guard, proud and stubborn, all the headstrong might of a stallion packed into a mare that promised fierce retribution to any who provoked her. Honestly, Yang thought they'd get along swimmingly, especially after the first chuff at her hand, the horse's dark brown eyes almost daring her to do something- as if she could sense or smell the dragon's blood in her veins. To her left, Winter strode purposefully down the thoroughfare, chin up and shoulders back, bedecked in her best dress uniform with new, silver pauldrons attached to a white cloak with golden trim- a foolhardy decision, perhaps, but one that sent a clear message of resolute fearlessness. It likely wouldn't kill her, but if either pauldron touched her skin, it would burn, even in human form; Yang found herself admiring the werewolf's absolute determination, even if it was ill advised. 
"You look good." The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them, a blush rising in her cheeks as she tried to make herself sound a little more articulate. "I mean- your new armor. It looks very good on you. Strong, dependable, warm." 
Mentally, she slapped herself, but Winter offered a wan smile. "Thank you, Yang. I'm glad you approve." She nodded ahead of them. "Weiss thinks it's reckless. I think it sends a message." 
"That every cloud has a silver lining?" She grinned, lips pulling wider at the startled laughter that burst into the morning air. Winter hadn't laughed like that in the past few days; she wasn't entirely humorless, but she'd been subdued, morose. It felt good to see her in higher spirits. "I think it's a little of all three. And it's good to see you smiling again." 
"Strange, I think, that you've known me so little, you think the absence of a smile is odd." She shrugged- carefully. "Yet, you know me best of any."
"Do I though?" She tried to play it off but a voice whispered in the back of her mind: she did know, that the person most people saw was an act, that though she'd been cold and stiff before it wasn't born of personal choice but necessity. Winter could be kind, warm, encouraging... she did know the person beneath the mask. "But you... know a few things about me, too." 
"Yes. I know the blood in your veins, the strength of your convictions, the height of your intelligence, your perceptiveness- you were forced to grow up quickly. I assume you helped raise and teach some of the new werewolves, acted as guide and guardian." Winter paused. "I'd like very much to hear what stories you might have to tell." 
Lilac eyes fell on the city gates. "I'm afraid none of them are short, and our time is." 
"Permit me my fantasies," she replied, expression turning a touch somber. "A goodbye isn't painful unless you're never going to say hello again." 
"Who told you that?" Yang thought back on... a lot of goodbyes and found herself unable to agree fully. 
"It's an old saying. Hopeful, I suppose." Winter glanced her way. "I suspect you see it differently."
"The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said and never explained." Tears stung at her eyes. "That's from experience. Doesn't matter if it's the last one or not." A hand laid on her shoulder, bringing them to a brief halt. 
Winter's brows pinched together, voice soft. "You are strong, not just for the power in your arms or the scars you bear." Her right hand clenched, though only for a moment. "Your strength comes from rising above the pain others have put you through, and not letting it darken your heart." 
"I guess." Again, doubts swirled. She'd given Winter reasons for her leaving... but they weren't the whole truth, now were they? Was she repeating history? 
"Yang." She met the werewolf's gaze- blue, with a hint of gold about the iris, a sure sign the two sides had started to find their balance. "I understand why you're leaving." She paused. "I don't like it. I don't want it... but I understand your reasons. And it's not like you're slipping off in the dead of night." 
"I think that's more your bag." The words left her mouth before she could think better of it, surprising both of them. Lips tugged up before both of them started laughing, bringing the rest of the procession to a halt.
"I- I have to admit, you have a fair point," Winter finally said after reining in her amusement. "But I do try to give warning now." 
"Just give it a few more years." They started walking again, Weiss and Blake throwing little looks and whispers back and forth. "Once you can change at will... now that will be when giving heads up matters." 
"I realize this may come off as selfish..." Winter paused, weighing her words before speaking. "But I'll admit I wish I had someone to help me in the time to come. It'll be difficult, being alone." 
"You won't be alone. You have your pack," she swallowed, offering a small smile. "I'm... I'm still with you, even when I'm not here." 
The werewolf looked at her, nodding solemnly. "You will be indeed." The corners of her lips tugged up. "You're a very difficult person to forget, Yang." 
She gripped the reins a little tighter as they approached the gates, trying to keep the words locked behind her teeth, but they tumbled out all the same. "You're pretty remarkable yourself, Miss Winter."
Weiss had restored her sister's title first and foremost, once again putting the elder sibling as heiress apparent, though she'd joked once or twice about only having the title for the next two decades, if that. Given the way Blake had blushed, she'd be willing to bet that charge wasn't too far off. 
Her expression tightened, gaze turning away. "Promise me you'll try to be careful. Invest in some enchantments to repel hexes, or perhaps a shield?" 
"I'll pick one up. Just for you." She shouldn't have said that. Yet she did and found herself sharing a smile with Winter just before they passed through the gates, Weiss and Blake awaiting them on the other side. "I suppose this is it, Your Majesty."
"The end of one chapter and the beginning of another one," Weiss said, offering a brief hug- which took Yang off guard, though she quickly recovered, returning the embrace. "You do realize you'll be welcomed in Atlas, correct? Whenever you might deign to return, our borders and our castle will be open to you." 
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Yang nodded, then turned to Blake, who also embraced her. "And, uh, Your Majesty?" 
"Just Blake is fine." The Faunus gave her a little smile that seemed to hint at a tease. "People like us should stick together." 
What that meant, the hunter had an idea and rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say, Just Blake." 
Her shoulder was shoved lightly, a small laugh following that brought a smile to her lips. Then she turned towards Winter, unsure what to expect. 
After a pause, she stepped forward, offering a hand. "Farewell, Huntress. Thank you, for everything." 
She grabbed Winter's forearm- a warrior's gesture. "My pleasure, Your Highness." 
They held each other there a moment, looking into each other's eyes before breaking contact, both tight lipped. Yang turned, opting to lead the horse a bit further up the road before mounting, and dragging her feet in the process. 
A weight slammed into her back, arms wrapping around her chest as she staggered forward. Looking over her shoulder, she found Winter's face buried in her furs, eyes shut tight and teeth grit as one pauldron pressed against her skin, grey smoke wafting up. 
"I know you can't stay. I know I can't go." Her voice, soft, hardly rose above the din of the royal city awakening, but Yang heard every word. "But if you ever return, I will be here for you. You can always come back." 
She laid a hand on the arm about her waist, sighing. Yang turned in Winter's arms, letting the lead drop and returning the embrace. She simply couldn't ignore the powerful pull in her chest.
"Follow your heart. Listen to your wolf. You'll find your path." She pulled far enough away to run the backs of her knuckles against silver burned flesh, allowing some of her dragon magic to leak out and speed along the recovery process. Wouldn't be good for the people to see their divine werewolf sporting a fresh silver burn, after all. The way Winter leaned into the touch had nothing to do with it. "If you ever come to Vale for business, ask for the Elders. They'll welcome you as a sister." She paused, debating. "And they know the quickest way to find me." 
"I'll keep it in mind." She drew back, reluctant to break contact but doing so all the same and offering a small smile. "Safe travels." 
"Hunter's luck," she replied, grabbing the abandoned reins and going off, mounting up and beginning down the road, the horse's steady gait comforting, but only so much. When she got to the top of a hill- right before the bend that would hide the heart of Atlas from her sight- she looked back. 
Winter stood there, watching her, and the pain in her heart confirmed at least one thing. Regardless if the werewolf saw her as a packmate, a playmate, or a lifemate, Yang had already started to fall in love with her. 
She pulled on the reins and gave the horse- Ember, she decided, that would be a good name- her head, launching them both into a full gallop towards the coast. 
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gray-autumn-sky · 7 years
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Meant to Be Yours, Chapter 30
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Well, here it is. The LAST chapter of Meant to Be Yours--and the aftermath of the curse breaking.
Thank you for reading.
Previous installments can be found HERE. (This needs to be updated. I’ll try to do that this week, along with FFnet and Ao3 links).
Regina takes a breath as she feels her eyelids twitch, and though she’s not quite ready to wake up and face a new day--particularly the one awaiting her--for just a brief, feeling moment, she feels completely at ease.
Henry is tucked beneath her arm, his head resting against his shoulder as he sleeps--safe and secure. Every now and then, she feels him move--shifting himself, but never quite pulling away from her--and it makes her smile. She does her best not to think of how close she’d come to losing him mere hours before, and she does her best not to consider what that would have been like--for his shoes not to be scattered on the stairs or his toothbrush creating a little puddle on the counter, for his jacket not to be tossed carelessly across the back of a chair in the living room and the coffee table not to be littered with his favorite comic books. In months since Henry had come to live with her, he’d turned her world upside down-- he gave her life purpose and meaning, and he added so much life to an otherwise lifeless existence.
She smiles softly to herself as she cuddles him a little closer, hugging her arm around him and nuzzling her cheek against his hair.He’s warm and his rhythmic breaths remind her that he’s really there with her, that she didn’t lose him and that no matter what happens when the sun rises, she’ll still have Henry--and really, that’s all that matters to her.
Drawing in a long, deep breath, she breathes in in the soft smell of his shampoo--it’s a distinctive soapy smell mixed together with a subtle hint of coconut and pineapple.
And pine…?
Blinking her eyes open, she lifts her head and squints, trying to focus in the dark--and, just barely, she can see Robin, hovering at the threshold of Henry’s door.
“Hey… what are you doing here? I thought you weren’t going to back until morning.”
“Well, it is morning,” Robin whispers as he comes into the room. “Technically.”
“It’s still dark.”
“I know, and I didn’t want to wake you, but I--”
“What time is it?”
“About half past four,” he says, lowering himself down onto the edge of the bed. “I just wanted you to know I was here, in case you woke up and h--”
“You haven’t slept,” she cuts in, lifting her head as she pulls herself up a little to get a better look. “You haven’t slept since you left here.”
Robin draws in a tentative breath. “No…”
“Robin…”
“But the important thing is that you and Henry were able to get some sleep,” he tells her, grinning softly as his fingers press into her hip. “You two were long overdue for a full night’s sleep.” For a moment, she hesitates, unsure if she actually wants to know and not quite ready to give up the content little bubble she and Henry have created. “Go back to sleep,” he says, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “Roland’s sleeping in his room, and I’m going to go downstairs and… figure out how to make those butterbeer pancakes I mentioned yesterday.”
Nodding, she bites down on her lip. “How bad is it?”
“What?”
“The curse breaking… I assume that’s why you haven’t slept.”
“Ah…” he murmurs, sighing as he shakes his head. “People are confused.”
“Is that a nice way of saying angry?”
“No, they’re… mostly just really confused by everything,” he insists. “It’s a lot to take in and those memories just… hit them unexpectedly. It’s a lot to process and a lot of people are trying to find family and friends and…” He grins as his fingers knead at her hip. “Granny stayed open all night, and people have been using it as a sort of meeting place.”
“That’s… good,” she says, not quite understanding the feeling that settles in pit of her stomach. “That’s good that Granny can… offer that.”
He nods. “Were you serious about having a town hall meeting today?”
“I… think so,” she replies, blinking a couple of times as she remembers suggesting it in a passing comment that she’d given very little thought to. “I hadn’t quite… decided what to do about all of this, but I guess time is a luxury I don’t really have.”
“Well, I think it’d be a good idea,” Robin tells her in a plain voice, as if giving an opinion on what earrings she might wear. “I think it’d be helpful for people to see you, and be reminded that you broke the curse and wanted this to end… that you’re not the same woman they feared in the Enchanted Forest all those years ago.”
“Henry broke the curse.”
“Because of ,you,” he says, his fingers pressing into her hip as a grin edges onto his lips. “Regina, you made him believe in love and magic and… he could never have broken that curse if it weren’t for you.” She nods--not pointing out the irony in statement, not pointing out that there wouldn’t have been a curse at all had she not chosen to cast it, not pointing out that their wrath is deserved. “Okay,” he sighs, pulling himself away. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you guys up when breakfast is ready.”
She nods again as he leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips, and she smiles as he waits for her to lay back down. Robin pulls the blanket up around her and Henry, and her heart warms as he quickly strokes the back of his fingers over Henry’s cheek before offering her a quick wink before disappearing down the hallway.
Drawing in a long breath, she tries to relax--but no matter what, she can’t shake the growing sense of dread that fills her. Her neck and shoulders suddenly feel tight, and there’s tightening knot at her core as she thinks of all the people she hurt in her quest to get revenge on Snow White.
For months, Robin has insisted the curse was never really that bad, and that because everyone had the basics or the essentials--a place to live, a job that allowed them to pay their rent and buy goods--their lives weren’t as miserable as they could have been. He argued that while people might not have known who they were--not exactly--they had their family and friends, and that even though, every year, when the curse reset itself, they had to start over, most people were able to live fulfilling lives. And maybe, for some, that was true--but it didn’t take away what her intention had been, that she’d wanted to hurt them--and she of all people knew just how painful and empty it felt to completely lose your sense of self.
After all, that’s what had happened to her.
When she’d been forced to marry the king, it hadn’t mattered to her that she had maids to take care of her or that there was a roof over her. She hadn’t been grateful for any of that--she hadn’t wanted it, and came to resent it as she felt identify slipping further and further away from her. She became someone she didn’t recognize and her life became one she’d never imagined herself living. Her choices stopped being her own, and she’d come to a point where she didn’t even recognize her own motivation. For years, she’d been lost in a fog--trapped and constantly fighting.
She understood what everyone in Storybrooke was feeling--and she doubted it was really confusion. They were angry, and their anger was justified. She’d taken something from them that they could never quite get back. She’d taken their identities and twisted them, and they hadn’t gotten a say. She’d took from them what was taken from her, and for years, she’d stood back idly and done nothing to help them.
It was painful, almost, to see the way Robin had looked at her when he insisted that Henry was able to break the curse because of her--and while, she could concede that to be true, her intentions weren’t nearly as pure as he made them seem.
Before Henry it never occurred to her that she could somehow break her own curse--mostly because she didn’t care enough to consider it--and even now, her motives were selfish…
With a sigh, her eyes open and once more she looks to Henry, cuddled into her side and sleeping soundly. She smiles a little as she slowly starts to pull away, careful not to wake him.
The cool air hits her legs and she shivers a little as she readjusts Henry’s blanket before padding into the hall toward her own room. She grabs her robe and ties it around herself and slips her feet into a pair of backless slippers--and as she does, she catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror.
For a moment, she just stands there, staring at her reflection and wondering if what Robin said is actually true--wondering if she’s really not the same woman who was so feared in the Enchanted Forest. It was true that the curse had tamed her--year after year of a dull existence had tamped down the anger, and making the choice to give Henry when he was just a baby had humbled her. It had made her realize her inadequacies and it gave her the push she’d needed to reach out for help--and those therapy sessions had helped her to cope with her difficult and painful past, had given her options other than lashing out, had taught her to quell the darkness that lived inside of her--and it had brought her to a place where she could finally accept love back into her life.
Yet, all of that was under the fog of the curse--and now, that fog had been lifted.
Looking away, she pushes herself out of the room and down the stairs, and she smiles gently at the sight of Robin hunched over a cookbook, looking unbelievably confused.
“Am I interrupting?”
Blinking, he looks to her. “Never.”
“I suddenly can’t sleep…”
“I knew I shouldn’t have--”
“No,” she cuts in. “It’s not because of you,” she tells him with a sigh as she joins him on the couch, smiling as his arm folds around her shoulders. “It’s… me.”
“Uh oh, that sounds like a bad break-up line.”
Rolling her eyes, she shakes her head. “Don’t even go there…”
“Okay, okay,” he says, a chuckle rising up behind his words before he presses a quick kiss to her hair. “How about you tell me why you can’t sleep then… tell me what’s bothering you. I assume it’s something to do with… facing the world again?”
She nods as her eyes fall to his coffee cup baring the logo of Granny’s diner. “You were there,” she murmurs softly. “You were at Granny’s.”
“I was.”
“So, you saw people…”
“I wanted to help, however I could…” He shrugs. “I’m not sure I was much help, but I wanted to try.”
“And on a scale from one to I should expect to be burned at the stake tomorrow, how bad is it?” She hold her breath as she turns her head to look at him. “Be honest.” He nods and for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. “It’s that bad,” she breathes out as she looks away.
“No, it’s just… they want answers.”
“Answers from me.”
“Yeah, mostly from you…”
“Mostly?”
“Well, there are… different camps of people,” Robin says in a tentative voice. “There are people who are angry and want to hear from you, then there are people who are just sort of lost and confused by the whole thing… and also want to hear from you, and then… there’s… there’s a group that thinks Snow White should be helping in some way.”
“They always loved her…”
“Maybe,” Robin murmurs. “But she’s not there.”
“What?” Regina turns, looking back at him. “What do you mean she’s not there?”
“She and David are… at the hospital.”
“Well, they just found each other again, and… I’d imagine that after laying in a hospital bed for almost thirty years hasn’t exactly been good for David’s muscles.”
Laughing softly, Robin shakes his head. “That’s probably true… and… you’re defending them.”
“Well… to say they should be dealing with the mess I created…”
“...in their names….”
“Regardless, to say they should be dealing with it seems unfair.”
“I agree, but not everyone else does.” Taking a breath, he presses a kiss to her temple. “Regina, not everyone is angry about the curse. There are some people who are just glad it’s over and want to focus on getting their lives back--and I think, no matter how anyone’s feeling, what they want now is leadership.”
“From me?” She asks, arching her eyebrow skeptically. “They never wanted me as their queen. Why would they want me now?”
“Because you’re a good mayor and they know that.”
At that, she scoffs. “Planning a few fun town events doesn’t exactly erase years of terror.”
“And that’s why you need to show them how much you’ve changed--meet them head on and listen to them, answer what you can and show them you can be the leader they need right now.”
“What if I can’t be? What if… I haven’t changed, or haven’t changed enough?” Her breath catches in her throat and she feels her jaw tighten. “What if I walk into that town hall meeting and I lose my temper? What if… my magic becomes uncontrollable or I can’t resist making some snide remark? What if--”
“Regina,” he interjects. “You have changed. You wouldn’t be so worried about this if you hadn’t.” Blinking at him, she nods. That’s something she hadn’t quite considered before. “Besides, I’ll be there the whole time.”
“I was… sort of hoping you’d stay with Henry. I don’t want to leave him and--”
“Granny has already offered to watch him.”
“What?”
“She said she’d watch him for you… that we can bring him by the diner and she’ll make him a milkshake and some chili-cheese fries, and let him play whatever he wants on the jukebox.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because,” Robin begins in an easy voice, “Like I said, not everyone in this town is against you. You have allies. You have people who are willing to hear your side of things, who haven’t assumed the worst and are willing to give you a second chance.”
“And… Granny is one of them?” Robin nods as a grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth. “And… you’ll be there to make sure the…I keep it together and don’t do something crazy?”
“I’ll be there.”
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” he murmurs as she shifts again and settles back against him. “But there is something I want to ask you.”
“Okay, go ahead…”
“What is butter extract?”
She blinks and then turns, looking at him with narrow eyes. “What?”
“Butter extract,” he repeats. “Every single recipe for these pancakes calls for it, and I have no idea what that means.” He blinks. “And I already told Roland this is what we’re having, so I regular pancakes would just be a complete and utter disappointment.”
“Oh,” she murmurs as she feels a laugh bubbling up from her chest. “It’s just butter flavoring.”
“Why not just use butter then?”
“You could… you’d just need to add a lot of butter.”
“Oh… well… how much is a lot?”
“Too much,” she tells him with a little laugh. “You can usually substitute it for vanilla extract. I have some in the cupboard.” Settling back against him, she shakes her head and suddenly, her eyes feel heavy. “I’ll help you make them,” she says as a soft yawn escapes her. “I just… need to do something before breakfast.”
“Sleep?”
“Well, yes, but… I had something else in mind.”
“Oh?”
“I need to go see David and Mary Margaret.”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No,” she murmurs back in reply. “This… this is something I need to do on my own.”
_____
Regina stands at the end of the long hallway that leads to David’s room, firmly rooted in her place as she stares forward and into the quiet corridor. The sun’s just barely risen, marking the official start to morning. It peeks through the windows, shining and glistening down on the white tile floors, and making the stark and sterile hospital feel warm and inviting. There’s no one around, the halls are empty--even Nurse Ratched has left her post. Looking around, she assumes that behind the closed doors, patients are still asleep--asleep and completely unaware of the new reality they'll be waking up to. For a moment, she lets her eyes linger on one of the doors--trying to remember who occupies the rooms and why, and for the life of her, she can’t remember… perhaps the patients represent some of the countless hearts in her vault, she wonders…
Drawing in a long breath, she shakes away the thought, deciding she’ll deal with that particular dilema at a later time. Now, she had to deal with Snow White and Prince Charming--or whatever that meant.
Still, she finds herself rooted in place at the end of the long hallway, wringing her hands together as she contemplates what she’s supposed to say to them. Robin tried to talk her through it and in the car, she’d tried to rehearse it the things they discussed. Yet no matter what. everything she could think to say fell flat, sounding hollow and forced or crass and insincere--and deep down, she knew that no matter what she said, it’d be met with deserved skepticism or even outright rejected… and that sentiment would be deserved.
Taking another breath, this time shorter and more decisive, she takes a tentative step forward, reminding herself that the reception of the apology didn’t actually matter. It was something she had to do, something that would help her to move on. This wasn’t about them, it was about her--they didn’t have to accept her apology, but she did need to offer one.
For so long the two people at the end of the hall had occupied her every thought. She’d been jealous and so filled with hate for them that it clouded her every decisions. For years, she’d wanted them dead--or at least, that’s what she let them think--and she’d set out to destroy their happiness. It’d been a game of cat-and-mouse, and she supposed, something that passed the time--and sadly, something that had given her some sort of twisted purpose.
As queen, she knew Leopold’s subjects would never accept her. She wasn’t the queen they wanted--and they’d long been indifferent toward her. In some ways, that had worked in her favor--she could go unnoticed. But then, slowly but surely, Leopold’s grasp on her tightened. It was so odd to her how he could be so generous and caring toward everyone else, yet so cruel to her--and she’d spent years watching as he groomed his daughter to be queen. It was an odd thing to watch--a girl that was so much like her, so adored and cared for, and her cast aside and ignored. Looking back, she could see that her anger was displaced--she hadn’t hated Snow White, she hated the circumstances she was in. But she couldn’t lash out at a circumstance...
She smiles faintly at the sight of them as she reaches the doorway, but remaining just out of sight.
Mary Margaret is laying in the small hospital bed, her head on David’s chest. His arm his folded around her and his cheek rests atop her head. They’re cuddled up together, looking so comfortable as they sleep--and for a split second, she considers not waking them.
But that would defeat the purpose of being there--and that would be taking the easy way and she’d made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t do that, not anymore…
Clearing her throat, she holds her breath and waits for them to stir--but the sound goes unnoticed. She does it again, and again, each time louder, but still neither David nor Mary Margaret wakes. With a loud sigh, she feels herself growing impatient as she shifts on her feet, just wanting this moment to be over… to be over so they can all move on.
Rasping her knuckles against the frame of the door, she watches as they stir--first Mary Margaret and then David. Biting down on her bottom lip, her heart starts to beat faster as their eyes flutter--and then, David flunches, gasping as he presses himself back against the pillows and hugs Mary Margaret tighter.
“Stay back,” he calls out, struggling against fear and grogginess. “Don’t take another step.”
“I won’t,” she’s quick to reply, holding up her hands. “I’m not here to make trouble.”
“It’s okay, David,” Mary Margaret says, pressing her palm to his chest as she lifts her head and looks directly at Regina. “She doesn’t have magic here. No one does.”
For some reason, the comment stings--or perhaps, it’s just the tone. But she shrugs it off and tries to smile as a show of goodwill. “Actually, I do, but I’m not going to… use it on you or… anyone… and… that’s beside the point,” she murmurs, grimacing as she fumbles with her words. Taking a breath, she tries again. “I… just wanted to see how the two of you were doing… and…”
“Bedridden and in need of intense physical therapy,” David cuts in in a biting tone. “Thanks to you.”
“Right…” She feels her jaw clench, but again, pushes away the impulse to lash out and say something she’ll only regret later on. “Look, I know that you two have no reason to trust me, but I… I just… I wanted to say that I’m sorry and…” She sighs as her voice trails off, and she shifts uncomfortably. “I tried to ruin your lives because I… I was jealous and miserable and… I realize now that you weren’t to blame for--”
“But you also brought us back together,” Mary Margaret says in a small, barely audible voice. “You’re the reason I found him again. Had you not done that I’d be… out there, searching.”
“Well, my intentions weren’t… completely pure,” Regina says, as a little smile tugs up at the corner of her mouth. “I was hoping that… maybe you two could break the curse.”
“Your curse,” David scoffs, looking skeptically between Regina and Mary Margaret. “You wanted to break your own curse.”
“I did… for my son.” She shrugs her shoulders. “I wanted to give him… a normal life, and… well… that’s not really something that’s possible… or something that was possible here, as things were.”
“You have child...”
“Henry,” she says with a nod, not ready to say anymore about who her son really to them, not quite ready to share him. “He… changed me.”
“That’s not true,” Mary Margaret says as her eyes meet Regina’s. “You changed before you adopted him.”
“Maybe…”
“No, it’s true. You’re not the same person you were when you cast the curse,” she says, almost breathlessly as she shakes her head. “I remember now. I watched you change from… an angry, hateful person to…” a soft smile draws onto her lips, “The sort of person who actually listens to each and every person who speaks at those long, boring town hall meetings you hold and the sort of person hands out snow cones to kids at the Fourth of July Fireworks... and the sort of person bakes cupcakes for a bunch of third graders on the first day of school.” She nods. “Sort of like the person you used to be.”
Regina nods as she feels a lump rising in her throat. “Well, regardless, I just… I wanted you to know that I am sorry for what I did to you… and all the things I tried to do to you.” Swallowing hard, she reaches into her pocket, slowly pulling out an envelope. She holds it up so that David’s skeptical eyes can see that it’s harmless and takes a few tentative steps forward. “I know that there isn’t anything I can do to make it up to you, but…” She sighs as she holds the envelope out to Mary Margaret. “I hope this can help.”
“What… is it?”
She feels a soft grin edge onto her lips--unforced and genuine. “Inside that envelope, you’ll find the contact information--a phone number and the home address--for your daughter. Her name is Emma Swan and she lives in Boston. And, I know that it’s not the same as having raised her, but there are a few pictures inside of her over the years and…” She shrugs as Mary Margaret takes the envelope. “I hope it’ll… help in someway.”
For a moment, she just stands there, watching as Mary Margaret and David stare at the envelope. Both of them seem speechless and even a little stunned, and both are completely overwhelmed. She can only imagine that once their memories returned, once they’d had their little reunion with each other, that one of the first questions they had was about their long lost daughter. Her chest tightens a little thinking of it, thinking of the absolute terror she’d felt the day before when it seemed that Henry might be lost to her forever, and she can’t fathom years of it or waking one morning to realize she’d missed out on his entire life.
“I should go,” she murmurs quietly, suddenly feeling even more out of place as Mary Margaret slips her finger beneath the envelopes seal. “I have a town hall meeting this afternoon that I’m sure will be… quite lively.” At that, she nods and turns away.
“Regina,” David’s voice calls just as she reaches the threshold, forcing her to turn back into the room. “Thank you for this,” he tells her in a soft, sincere voice as he holds up one of the pictures of Emma. “I mean it… thank you.”
She nods again as her breath hitches in her throat, and she feels something indescribable stirring at her core. She offers them both a slight smile that neither of them see before continue down the long corridor as her thoughts once more shift.
____
As soon as she steps into the house, she can smell the butterscotch--and a soft smile edges onto her lips as she thinks of Robin and the butterbeer pancakes he was so determined to make for the boys. She kicks off her shoes and takes off her suit coat, rolling her neck and shoulders as she pads toward the kitchen. Her stomach is still in knots, but it helps to be home--home and near Robin and the boys, home and doing something completely normal, like making breakfast. Though her meeting with Charmings was quick and felt a little forced and awkward, it went better than expected--and she she hoped that would set the precedent for the rest of the day.
On the way home, she’d replayed it over and over again in her head, considering and over-analyzing every detail of the interaction. She thought about the tentative way Mary Margaret had spoke to her--not angry or accusing, but also not condoning--and she thought about David’s sincere thank you at the end. She thought about all of the things she didn’t say--things she wanted to say and maybe should have said--and even then, after all was said and done, she couldn’t quite find the words.
It was frustrating, in a lot of ways, to feel so unsure--to grapple with absolutely every decision and to struggle with absolutely every word, to feel as though everyone were watching and waiting for an opportunity to find fault and attack. She wasn’t used to this. Never as Queen had she cared much about what anyone thought and as mayor, it hadn’t mattered because no one would remember any of it anyway.
But now, everything she did and said carried a particular degree of weight, there were consequences now--and in just a few short hours, she’d have to find the right words and say them to a crowd of more than two…
Henry’s laugh rings out and she can’t help but smile as she hears Robin reply in a teasing voice. She can’t make out whatever it is that they’re talking about it, but it sounds light-hearted and happy and so, so normal, the sort thing she’d hear on any given morning--and she finds herself clinging to it as she wonders if, just for a little while, she can manage to shift her attention to Robin and the boys and ignore the rest of the world, if only for her own sanity.
A warm smile edges onto her lips as she steps into the kitchen and spots Roland, leaning across the counter on one of the stools as he watches Henry and Robin making the butterscotch batter. His hair is messy and he’s wearing a pair of  Superman footed pajamas--and looking decidedly concerned. Peering around the corner, she watches as Robin helps Henry to measure out some flour, carefully ensuring that it’s leveled before dropping it into a glass mixing bowl--and then, he hands Henry the measuring cup to do it again on his own.
“Do you want to help?” She asks as she comes up behind Roland, rubbing her hand over his back as Robin looks up and grins. “You can if you want to.”
“I sneezed in the first batch of whipped cream… twice,” he confesses as he turns to look up at her, offering her a guilty little lopsided grin. “They had to remake it… twice.”
“Are you feeling okay?” She asks as her hands move to his cheeks, pressing her fingers against them to check for warmth. “You’re not getting sick, are you?”
Roland’s cheeks flush and he shakes his head, looking away bashfully. “No, no, nothing like that,” Robin tells her as a chuckle rises into his voice. “He sneezed because he tried to smell the powdered sugar and breathed in a little too much… and then, he did it again.” At that, Henry giggles and Roland’s cheeks deepen to another shade of red. “So, he’s done helping for now.”
“But the third batch tasted the best,” Henry tells them as he uses his finger to level off the measuring cup. “So, it wasn’t all bad.”
“I guess that’s true…”
“And I got the lick the spoon the second time...and the third,” Roland tells her. “It was best the third time.”
“Where were you?” Henry asks, as drops in the second cup of flour, looking up as his eyes meet hers. “It’s so early.” His lip catches between his teeth. “I was worried that… that something… might have happened.”
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, offering an apologetic grin. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“It’s okay,” Henry says. “Robin was here. He said you just had to run an errand.” Henry blinks up and Robin and his brow creases. “At six-thirty in the morning.”
Scooping up Roland, Regina pulls him into her lap as she settles onto the stool he’d been standing on and watches as Robin hands Henry a container of ricotta cheese to be measured, pointing at a specific mark on the measuring cup. “I… wanted to go and see Ms. Blanchard,” she begins in a tentative voice. “There was something I needed to talk to her about.”
“Oh,” Henry murmurs as he pulls off the lid. “Is she still at the hospital visiting her friend?”
“She is…”
“Is he better?”
“He is,” Regina says with a nod. “He’s practically back to his old self.” Her eyes shift to Robin as his brow arches curiously. “It was a… nice enough visit.”
“That’s good,” Henry says easily as he carefully pours some cream into the bowl and takes the whisk that Robin hands him as his brow arches in her direction. “And I’m glad that her friend is doing better.”
“Me too,” Regina says as her fingers push through Roland’s messy curls as the knot in her stomach begins to tighten. “But I don’t want to talk about that now,” she says decidedly, leaning in to press a kiss to his hair and grinning as he tips his head back so that her lips brush over his forehead. “I’d much rather make the butter syrup for those pancakes you two are working on.” Her eyes shift to Robin and she laughs a little. “And if Roland promises not to sniff any of the ingredients, can he help?”
“I suppose so,” Robin says, eyeing his son. “But if you have to sneeze…”
“I know, I know,” Roland mumbles. “Look away and sneeze into my elbow.”
Regina laughs as slides off of the stool and sets Roland back down on top of it. She gathers together the ingredients that Robin set aside for the syrup, making a quick quip about the butter extract and how he’d left it for her to use. He only rolls his eyes as she laughs and grabs a bowl from the cabinet, but as she turns, Robin catches her arm.
“Did things really go alright?” He asks in a low and barely audible voice. “Are you really alright?”
“It was fine,” she tells him as she leans up onto her toes to peck his lips. “We’ll talk about it after breakfast.” Robin nods and his hand rubs gently over her arm before turning back to Henry and the butterscotch batter. She lifts Roland onto the counter and lays out the ingredients, smiling as he carefully examines each of them and his brow furrows at the butter extract--and thoughts of the Charmings and the looming town hall meeting drift away…
Despite a few hiccups with the food processor, the rest of the breakfast preparations go smoothly--and breakfast itself is filled with light-hearted laughter, and even a little bit of magic that had made the boys eyes go wide.
Magic felt different in this way--lighter and safer--and she liked that it could make Henry and Roland smile.
After breakfast, the boys settled in the living room with a video game--and she and Robin returned to the kitchen to clean up the butterscotch-y mess.
For awhile, they didn’t say much, focusing instead on the washing out bowls and dishes, wiping down countertops and cleaning Roland’s fingerprints off the refrigerator door. When she reaches for the last of the plates, she feels her shoulders tensing and her stomach starts to churn, not quite ready for the little bubble of breakfast with her family to burst.
“You’ve been washing the plate for ten minutes,” Robin murmurs as he comes up behind her, his fingers pressing into the small of her back. “Even if it was Roland’s, I think it’s clean now.”
“The whole thing was covered in syrup,” she says, grinning as she looks back at him from over her shoulder.
“As were his hands…”
“The pancakes seemed to be a hit though…”
“Mm, well, I’d expect nothing less from a recipe that included both copious amounts of sugar and Harry Potter,” he says, as his fingers press a little more firmly at the small of her back. “It’s after breakfast now,” he tells her. “So, tell me, how did things really go at the hospital with…” He stops as she turns to him, and his head tips to the side. “Do we call her Mary Margaret still? Or is it Snow White again.”
Involuntarily, her eyes roll. “I’m sticking with Mary Margaret, for now,” she says as she turns off the water. “I never could stand her real name.”
“Is is rather…”
“Stupid?”
“Well…”
She sighs and shakes her head. “It was fine, though,” she tells him, as she turns herself and leans back against the edge of the sink. “I think David thought I’d set him on fire at any moment, but… I apologized and gave them Emma’s contact information and some pictures, and…” She shrugs, “Then I left.”
“Short and sweet…”
“And uncomfortable.”
“Well…”
She sighs, “It was better than I thought it’d be.” A little grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth. “I… said that Henry changed me and Mary Margaret disagreed… she said that now that she has her memories, she can say that it started before Henry and…”
“She’s right.”
“Is she?”
“Regina,” Robin cuts as she draws in a breath. “You haven’t been the Evil Queen for a very long time. Storybrooke gave you a fresh start and you… took advantage of that. You worked through some things and you did your best to make amends where you could, to be better this time around.” Her lip catches between her teeth as her eyes shift to meet his. “This whole town watched it happen.”
“This whole town also watched me terrorize…”
“So, they’ve seen both sides,” he interjects, not letting her finish the thought. “There are people on your side. Rely on them.”
“You sound so sure about that.”
“I am,” he tells her easily. “And unlike you, I’ve actually spoken to a few of them since the curse breaks.”
She sighs in concession and nods. “I’m still surprised I didn’t run into anyone when I went to the hospital.”
“Are you sure you didn’t magic yourself there or… find an invisibility cloak or…”
She laughs a little and shakes her head. “No… I’m… trying not to do that.”
“Not to use magic?” He asks as his brow creases. “Why not?”
“Well, it’s… kind of addicting and…” She sighs and shakes her head, remembering how it had slowly but surely consumed her. “And I don’t always like the person it makes me.”
“Magic doesn’t make you the person you are, Regina. It’s just… a part of who you are.” She looks away, shaking her head, thinking back to those early years of the curse and what a struggle it had been not to have magic. She remembers how her fingers would curl as she’d sneer at someone when she didn’t get her way or something proved to be especially difficult, remembering the way she’d daydream about launching a fireball toward them or reaching into their chest and forcing things go her way. “Not all magic is dark.”
“Mine is.”
“I don’t agree.”
Blinking, she looks up at him. “I have a collection of hearts from people that…”
“You magic can be dark,” Robin cuts in, shaking his head. “That doesn’t mean it always is.” Shaking her head, she tries to look away, but he tips her chin back and smiles. “Yesterday, your magic wasn’t dark. Yesterday, when you saved your son, you weren’t using dark magic. That came from a place of love, Regina. Not hate.”
“I don’t know. I certainly was feeling a lot of hate for some of the people in that room.”
Robin nods. “But was that hate stronger than the love you felt for Henry?”
“No,” she says easily as a soft grin tugs up at the corner of her mouth. “You certainly seem to know a lot about the difference between dark and light magic.”
“I’ve… done a bit of reading here and there.”
“Stolen library books?”
“Borrowed.”
Rolling her eyes, she laughs and shakes her head, then takes a step in. He pulls her into a hug as she draws in a breath. Her head rests on his shoulder and he rubs his hand over her back, and she finds herself wondering how she’d have gotten through the last weeks without his support.
“Okay,” he murmurs as he takes a half step back. “Let’s go relax for a little bit and… maybe figure out what it is you’re going to say this afternoon?” She nods as his fingers fold down around hers, tugging her gently toward the living room--as thinks she’s glad she’ll never have to know what going through this without him would have been like.
_____
Regina’s breath catches in her chest as they step into the diner, and Robin and the boys walk to the counter. She stands there, watching as Henry and Roland climb up onto stools at the counter, and Robin leans against it as Granny comes out from the kitchen.
The diner isn’t crowded--especially considering that it's lunchtime--but the few patrons have all stopped eating. Instead, they’re all staring at her--as though waiting for something to happen. She tries to smile as a gesture of goodwill or perhaps a little reassurance, but she can’t muster it--instead, all she can do is focus on their wide, fearful eyes. She looks at each of them and it’s not until her eyes fall to a boy in Henry’s class that she recognizes one of the faces. Her heart clenches when his hands start to tremble, and she finds herself wondering what she did to him…
“You might be a queen,” Granny calls out, snapping her back into the present moment and turning her attention away from the boy. “But I call the shots around here, and I’m not paying to keep the sidewalk cool. So, it’s in or out, no lingering in the doorway.”
“Oh,” she murmurs as she takes a step into the diner and lets the door close behind her. “Uh, sorry about that.”
Granny offers her a quick wink as she makes her way to the counter, doing her best to ignore the other patrons eyes following her as she goes. After what seems like an eternity rather than just a few feet, she reaches the counter and Robin’s arm slides around her as Granny grabs two menus and drops them down in front of the boys.
“I know I said milkshakes and chili-cheese fries,” Granny begins. “But I was thinking you two should pick out some burgers or sandwiches to go with that.” A grin pulls onto Regina’s lips as Henry and Roland exchange smiles. “And for you,” she says, turning her attention to Regina. “I’ve got something for you--on the house.” Before Regina can even ask, Granny pulls a large styrofoam coffee cup from beneath the counter. “A little liquid courage for your town hall meeting.”
“Thank you,” she returns sincerely as she wraps her fingers around the warm cup. “But I have a feeling I’ll need something stronger than coffee for this one.”
A smirk edges onto Granny’s lips. “Who says that’s just coffee?”
Regina’s eyes widen a little and she takes a sip--and immediately tastes the whiskey.
“Nothing for me?” Robin asks, chuckling softly as he looks to Granny. “I’ve got a town hall meeting, too.”
She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Help yourself,” she tells him. “You usually do anyway.” At that, Regina chuckles around Robin shrugs and rounds the counter, helping himself to a cup of coffee and some flavored creamer as Granny turns her attention to the boys. Regina watches as she carefully takes down their orders--and when she reaches into her purse to try to pay for the food and coffees, Granny shakes her head. “It’s on the house,” she tells her, offering a quick wink before disapearing back into the kitchen to start on the boys’ orders.
“Come on,” Robin murmurs softly as he comes back to the other side of the counter and takes her hand, “We should be going.”
“Yeah,” she says reluctantly. “I guess we should.” Leaning in she presses a kiss to Henry’s cheek, the another to the top of Roland’s head as Robin reminds them to behave--and Granny tsks loudly and rolls her eyes, as if two little boys could never misbehave.
“That wasn’t so bad,” Robin says, as he holds the door open for her and they step out onto the sidewalk. “Granny was… Granny.”
“Yeah,” Regina says with a nod, looking back over her shoulder at the wide-eyed boy sitting with his mother, still watching her with terrified eyes. “But did you see everyone else? Did you see that little boy?” Robin’s gaze follows her and she sighs. “He looked absolutely petrified.”
“He probably only knows you from stories he’s heard.”
“Or…”
“Regina, don’t do that,” Robin says as he turns her away from the window. “Don’t beat yourself up over things that may or may not have happened three decades ago.” She nods and takes another sip of the coffee, breathing it in and holding it in her mouth as they make their way toward City Hall.
With each step her stomach tightens, and little by little, she feels her resolve dwindling. Her hand tightens around Robin’s as they reach the front entrance, and just like she was the hospital earlier that morning, she feels rooted in place.
Turning to her, he takes a breath and with his free hand, he cups her cheek. “You can do this.”
“I don’t have much of a choice,” she says, as her eyes meet his. “The whole way here, I’ve been thinking about that offer you made… the one about leaving Storybrooke if the curse didn’t break, and starting over again somewhere else, just me and you and Henry and Roland...I keep thinking about that.”
“Ah,” he murmurs softly. “If I recall, I suggested that a few times, and each time, you were adamantly opposed to it.”
“I’m known for my poor decision making.”
A little grin edges up onto his lips. “You made the right call, Regina.”
“It doesn't feel like it.”
With a sigh, he pushes his hand into her hair and draws her closer, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. “The sooner we go in there, the sooner this will all be over.”
“Over sounds nice.”
“Come on,” he says, as he pulls back, giving her hand a gentle tug. “Let’s go.”
Reluctantly, she follows him in--and her mouth goes dry as she hears the loud buzz of voices coming from the meeting room. Just by the sounds of it, it’s a full house--a full house of people waiting for answers she only hopes that she can provide and a full house of people waiting to lash out at her. She feels a warm tingling at her fingertips, and she takes a breath, doing her best to ignore it.
Drawing in a long breath, she pushes against the door and swallows hard as she steps into the room, once more thinking of the boy in the diner, looking at her as if he were looking at some kind of horrifying monster. Looking around, she notices a few faces--people she’s seen everyday for the past few decades, people who delivered her mail and rang up her groceries, neighbors and city workers, and people she’d just merely crossed paths with. Each of them, though, have the same hard-eyes and tight jaws, no longer offering a courteous grin or nod to their mayor.
“Regina!” Graham’s voice calls as he steps out of the crows. “What the hell!?” He takes a few long strides and  aimless strides toward her, eyeing her as he near, and once more, she swallows hard, thinking back to all the terrible things she did to him--especially before the curse, things he now has a memory of. Again, she feels that familiar tingling in her fingers and she balls her hands into fists in an effort to stop it--and in an effort to stop herself.
Her eyebrows arch as Robin steps forward, putting a physical barrier between her and Graham. Graham only scoffs as shakes his head, and she sighs at the smell of rum--his favorite coping mechanism. “What is this?” He asks, looking past Robin and directly at her. “You brought a bodyguard?”
“Does she need one?”
“Robin, it’s… it’s okay… he’s just…”
“Entitled to be angry,” Robin cuts in, looking directly at Graham, “But not entitled to drunkenly berate her in front of a room full of people.”
“What do you know about it?” Graham demands, shifting his attention to Robin. “She’s entitled to nothing, not after what she--”
“I want to hear from her,” an unfamiliar and faceless voice pipes up from the crowd, causing everyone’s attention to shift, and giving her the opportunity to slip away from Graham.
Nervously, she makes her way to the front of the room and her jaw tightens as a lump rises into the back of her throat, and she has to remind herself not let her emotions--or her magic--get the best of her. For a moment, she just stands there, letting her eyes linger over everyone before they finally come to rest on Robin, who gives her an encouraging little wink and a nod.
“I know that a lot of you are… confused and angry, and probably have a thousand questions that you want me to answer,” she begins as she leans back against the edge of the table where the town council usually sits at these sorts of meetings. “And, I promise you, I’ll try to answer them, but…”
“Can we go back?” Someone calls out. “Can we go back home?”
Catching her lip between her teeth, and shakes her head. “I… I don’t think so.”
“Why not?” Someone else yells out, as a loud murmur overtakes the room. “You brought us here! You should be able to take us back!”
“It’s not that…”
“We didn’t choose this place. You did. Why should we be stuck here?”
“You owe it to us to--”
“I can’t do the impossible,” she said, elevating her voice over the crowd. “But I can help you all to make the best of the life you have here.”
“Good, I don’t want to go back,” Ruby says, loud enough for everyone around her to hear it. “I like Storybrooke… and electricity and aspirin and…” She grins, “Not having to chase down my food.”
Another murmur goes through the crowd, and a appreciative grin edges onto Regina’s lips as she makes eye-contact with Ruby.
Clearing her throat, she pushes away from the table and does her best to ignore the tightening knot at her core. “Listen, I know that you have questions, but before I try to answer them, there’s something I need you all to hear.” Taking a breath, she waits for the room to quiet and when it does, she again finds herself looking to Robin, who once more offers her an encouraging nod. “I need you to know that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you all got caught in the crossfire. For most of you, this wasn’t personal. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t get hurt--and for that, I’m sorry. I was…” She sighs and shakes her head, closing her eyes momentarily as she thinks back to the night she cast the curse and how desperate and alone she felt, how she just wanted to start over. “I guess it doesn't matter what I was thinking or feeling back then--and I’m sure you can all fill in the blanks with whatever colorful adjectives and expletives you choose--” At that, a little chuckle vibrates through the crowd, and she feels a little grin tug up at the corner of her mouth and the knot in her stomach loosens. “What does matter is that… I’m not that person anymore, and even though I can’t undo the curse and I can’t take you home, I can try to help you build a new life here.”
She nods as she looks around the room, and she can’t help but notice that people--even the angry man who challenged her a moment before about returning to the Enchanted Forest--seem to be listening. “It won’t be easy, and we’re all going to have to make adjustments, but we can muddle through it together.” A soft smile forms on her lips as her eyes settle on Robin at the back of the crowd. “If there’s one thing this curse has taught me, it’s that it’s a lot easier to get through the really difficult times if you have someone helping you, if you have someone you can rely on, someone who's in your corner…” Taking a breath, she looks back at the crowd. “Let me be that person for you. Let me help you. Let me make it up to you.”
“And why should we trust you?” Calls a voice she only faintly recognizes as one of the dwarves. “Of all people, why do you deserve our trust?”
Her lips part to respond, but before she can, another voice replies. “Because you and I both know that she’s changed. We all watched it happen, slowly but surely, little by little.” Mary Margaret says as she steps into the town hall meeting room. “She’s not the Evil Queen anymore and she hasn’t been for a very long time.”
Once again, Regina feels a lump rising into her throat and this time, she feels warm tears brimming in her eyes as she stares at Mary Margaret for a moment--and then, taking a breath, she looks back to the crowd.
“You said you had questions,” she begins, this time feeling calmer. “So, let’s have them…”
_____
The town hall meeting finally ended just after six--and by the time they got to Granny’s to pick up the boys, she was completely exhausted. The plan had been to pick some take out from Granny’s and eat it while they all watched a movie and relaxed--but the boys had other plans, and she could hardly say no their big smiles and wide, hopeful eyes... or request of fajitas and rice.
Chuckling softly at her lack of resolve against the boys, Robin ordered them pieces of flan for dessert. Regina gathered the boys’ things and thanked Granny, who nodded and winked, and told her the boys had been a pleasure. It seemed like she wanted to say more--likely to ask how the town hall meeting had gone--but she didn’t, and then they were on their way.
It was an easy enough meal to prepare--and one that Roland smothered in too much cheese and sour cream. After dinner, Robin plated the slices of flan and sent the boys into the living room to choose a movie, and it took her only a couple of minutes to accept that using magic to clean a messy kitchen was innocent enough--and would allow her to finally sit down.
Henry and Roland chose Homeward Bound, and after everyone’s desserts were finished, they climbed up on the couch between Robin and Regina. Roland laid across Robin’s lap and Henry cuddled into her side--and as they watched the movie, she couldn’t help but realize, for the first time in what seemed like forever, she wasn’t worried about anything. There weren’t any secrets looming over her or an impending sense of dread washing over her whenever she wasn’t distracted. She was calm and at peace with herself--she was simply there, present within a moment, enjoying time with her family--and it was such a relief.
“I think they’re asleep,” Henry whispers as he looks up at her.
A grin tugs onto her lips as she looks to Robin and Roland on the opposite end of the couch. Robin’s head had fallen back against the couch cushion with his mouth open and his arms loosely folded around Roland--who’s leaning back against him in an adorably similar position. “Yeah,” she murmurs as a chuckle rises into her voice. “It appears so.” Leaning in, she presses a kiss to the top of Henry’s head. “We should get you up to bed.”
“Do I have school in the morning?”
“No…”
“Oh,” Henry murmurs with a frown. “I was kind of hoping we did.”
“I… think people need some time to adjust before they just jump back into the lives.”
“That makes sense,” Henry says with an easy nod. “But I miss my friends and we were in the middle of a really good book that Ms. Blanchard was reading to us. It was a murder mystery… kind of. I’m not sure anyone actually died, but all the characters think someone died.” He grins. “It’s kinda cool, but really confusing.”
“Ah… well maybe we could pick up a copy and you could finish it here?”
He nods agreeably at the idea. “I don’t miss math though,” she tells her, dropping his voice a little lower as he glances to Robin. “But don’t tell Robin that.” Henry looks back to Regina and offers a lopsided little smile. “I think it might hurt his feelings.”
Laughing softly, she shakes her head--and for a moment, she just stares at Henry and his sheepish little grin and bright eyes. “I really love you, you know that, right?”
“I love you, too,” he tells her as his smile brightens.
“I spent my whole day today talking about all the bad choices I’ve made in my life, and I just thinking about how glad I was that when it came to you, I finally got something right. That you got to be the one thing I seem to have gotten right.” Again, she leans in and presses a kiss to his hair, breathing in the soft smell of his shampoo. “So, what do you say to two chapters tonight?”
Henry grins. “I say yes!”
“Okay, let’s go up and…” She looks to Robin and Roland sleeping soundly beside them. “Once we get you to bed, I’ll come back for them.”
Henry nods as he rolls away from her and as they start toward the stairs, he reaches for her hand. Her breath catches in her chest as Henry leads her up the stairs. He changes into his pajamas quickly and brushes his teeth, and then he and Regina crawl into his bed. She lays on her side and he lays against the pillows and she reads until his eyes are heavy.
“Mom,” he murmurs softly as she slides the bookmark into the page. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Are you still mayor?”
She blinks a couple of times as he looks up at her, and then a grin edges onto her lips as she nods. “I am.”
“Good,” he says decisively. “I’m glad. You’re a good mayor.”
“I’m glad, too,” she murmurs in sincere voice as she slides off the bed and leans in to kiss his cheek. “Good night, Henry.”
“G’night, mom,” he mumbles back as his eyes close--and before she she even reaches the door, he’s asleep.
She goes downstairs and carefully scoops up Roland, carrying him up to his room and tucking him in. For a moment, she lingers there--watching as he sleeps and thinking of the promises she’s made about redecorating the room for him, and though she knows it could easily be done with a wave of her hand, she wants to see the excitement on his face as they go through the department store and pick things out. She imagines it’ll end up looking a lot like Henry’s room--just perhaps with more Superman than Captain America.
Grinning, she flicks on the nightlight and closes the door, and she considers the possibility of taking the boys shopping the following afternoon. Henry could use a few new things--and though socks and underwear are hardly as exciting as superhero bedsheets and posters, she thinks it’ll make for a nice afternoon.
She makes her way back to the living room and picks up the plates from the coffee table, quickly taking them to the kitchen and putting them in the dishwasher. She takes her time making sure all the doors are locked and all of the lights are turned off, and as she makes her way back to Robin, she can’t help but think of how good it feels to be this comfortable and this at ease in her own skin.
For a moment, she hesitates, not wanting to wake him--and she considers just grabbing a blanket and cuddling up against him. But she knows that if she does that, they’ll both wake up in the middle of the night with sore necks and shoulders, and they’ll both have a miserable morning.
Taking a breath she sits down on the edge of the couch and places her hand on his thigh, pressing gently in an effort to wake him--but it goes unnoticed. She whispers his name a few times, each time in a louder voice, but still he doesn’t wake up, and for some reason it makes her laugh. She slides closer and leans in a little, pressing her hand gently to his chest, and again, she says his name. His eyelids flutter and he shifts slightly, and a grin tugs onto her lips--and for an all too brief moment, she feels a bit overwhelmed by how much she loves him.
For months, he’s been a constant source of comfort for her. He’s been there whenever she needed someone, even when she wouldn’t voice that need, and he’s never asked for anything in return. He was simply there, because he wanted to be, because he loved her--and she’s never quiet had that. With Daniel, they’d been so young and their relationship never really got the chance to start--and then, after him, for so long, there’d been no one. She’d gotten used to being alone and somehow convinced herself that she preferred it that way. But it's been nice to have someone to lean on and rely on, someone she could talk to and confide in without worrying that she’d be judge or lectured--and just like with Henry, she can’t help but think that maybe everything else needed to happen in order for this to happen. And if that was the case, it was all worth it. They were worth it.
“Mm, did I fall asleep?” He murmurs as his eyes open. “I just meant to rest my eyes.”
“You did. So did Roland.”
Robin yawns and rolls his shoulders--and then his eyes widen a little. “Did all of the animals survive? I was pretty sure that Chance and Sassy would, but… I was worried about Shadow.”
She blinks as she processes his question, and then she starts to nod. “Yes, they did--even Shadow.”
“Good…”
She laughs a little as her fingers strum absently over his chest. “We should get to bed.”
“We should,” he agrees in a groggy voice. “I need to go into the store and… make sure John didn’t flirt away half of my inventory.”
“I need to go into my office tomorrow, too. I… don’t actually remember the last time I was there. I’m sure my desk is a nightmare.”
He grins a little. “I’ll take the boys to the shop with me.”
“Okay,” she agrees easily. “We should meet for lunch at Granny’s, and then I want to take the boys shopping. Henry needs some things and I’ve been promising Roland we’d decorate his room, so I figure tomorrow would be a good day for that and…” She takes a breath. “I really want to focus on doing something normal.”
“Normal is good…”
“It is…”
Pushing himself forward, he takes her hand and tugs her up from the couch. “Just try to make sure they’re back by six,” he tells her. “They have plans.”
“They do?” She asks, as her brow arches. “Our children have plans.”
“Yes,” he says easily.
“Plans that… include us?”
“No…”
She watches as he struggles against the urge to smile. “Do I get to know about these plans?”
“Their plans?” He asks, almost rhetorically as they reach the top of the stairs and she nods. “John is going to take them out for pizza and then watching The Chronicles of Narnia and… having a little sleep over.” He grins. “He borrowed some camping equipment--tents and the like. I think he’s more excited about it than they’re going to be.”
“So, they don’t know about these plans…”
“Not yet.”
“And, what will we be doing while our children are otherwise occupied?”
“Ah,” he breathes out as they step into the bedroom. “That’s the part I can’t share.”
“No?”
“No,” he says as he closes the door. “That part is very confidential.”
“Do the boys knows?”
“And risk you bribing them with candy and baked goods?” He asks, shaking his head as a sly little grin edges onto his lips. “I don’t think so.”
Her heart starts to flutter as she stares at him, and though she wants to be annoyed with his coyness, it makes her smile. “So, you’re not going to tell me?”
“You’ll find out tomorrow night,” he says easily as he steps around her and opens a drawer, pulling out a pair of pajama bottoms. She watches him change and then climb into bed and he only grins at her as he pats the empty space beside himself. “Come on, you’ve gotta be exhausted.”
“I am,” she murmurs. “But I also want to know what you’re up to.”
“Oh, I’m going to bed…”
Rolling her eyes, she reaches for her own pajamas, quickly changing into them before joining him in bed. She turns off the light and rolls onto her side--and again, she feels her heart flutter when he reaches for her.
“Just a hint…”
“Regina…”
“Come on…”
He chuckles softly and pulls her closer. “I… think you know what’s going to happen tomorrow night,” he whispers softly as her head settles on his shoulder. “But I do want some elements of it to be a surprise.”
She feels tears welling in her eyes and she nods and cuddles a little closer, glad for the confirmation and glad to wait for the surprise, but most of all glad to be able look forward to their future together--a second chance at life and happiness, not only for herself, but for all of them. And a second chance she can’t help but think was meant to be.
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tadakixd-blog · 7 years
Text
Sendai Monument Ceremony Part 2
Sorry for the delay, I’ve finally managed to finish the rest of the interview! This one has a little more of Yuzu in it, and features questions from the audience! Many thanks to @raomina for the awesome beta and encouragement, who also helped with the formatting and everything else I failed at XD
Yuzu: It’s amazing, really. (To Shizuka) You can see, right, when you’re doing it (the layback)?
Shizuka: Yes, I can. Oh you can’t see?
Yuzu: I-I can see but, my, my eyes don’t open that much like that. 
Shizuka: I can see everyone’s faces upside down, in that instant.
Finished translation under the cut! // See Part 1
Again, you can follow along with this video
youtube
Video Courtesy of M M on YT
Start @ 19:14
[19:14]
[Context: Part 1 ended with them talking about Sochi Olympics.]
Yama: After the free program, you didn't seem to be very satisfied.
Yuzu: Yea well, at that time I already thought "ahh that's the end of the gold medal". That's how close the fight had always been between me and Patrick, and more than anything, it was precisely because he was skating right after me that I thought "ah with this, I've lost the gold medal".
Yama: And when the results came out?
Yuzu: I was simply just surprised.
Yama: Surprised?
Yuzu: Yes. Well, somehow, with regards to my own program content, I had finished in such a way that was so unfulfilling that being happy, the happiness of winning, was just completely non-existent. And it was precisely because of that, that I simply just felt surprised. Mm... yes well, at an interview right after the Olympics, immediately replying "I feel regret and frustration" was the only thing I could really say.
Yama: Arakawa, you were watching from a location close to them, weren't you?
Shizuka: Yes.
Yama: So therefore, the time in between the SP and the FP, when that had started, when the first jump was landed, what kind of feelings did you have while watching things like that? With regards to Hanyu.
Shizuka: Yes well um...I think it's the same for Hanyu but, when the last group at the Olympics comes out, with all the skaters who are contenders for the podium, when that moment happens, the anxiety level increases all of a sudden. When I was there - I don't know (if this really was the case) but, I was watching like this from the side. The skaters in the last group, who could be said to have a gold medal riding on their performances... every one of these skaters’ movements were different from their usual and seeing that I thought, this will be a fight to see who amongst these skaters can perform the most like their usual selves. Because every skater is really under the same conditions, and so the narrower the margin is (between the skaters scores), the stronger the intention to aim higher becomes. Well, in any case, the level of anxiety during the last group was really incredible.
And so um, during Hanyu’s performance as well, even for the viewers it was nerve-wrecking. (the other two laugh) Hearing him talk about his frustration and regret immediately after that - that’s something I can understand. As expected, as a skater, you’d want to skate like yourself during the real thing. So, not being able to skate like yourself is part of the difficulty of the Olympics (t/n: literally: not being allowed to skate like yourself because of the difficulty of the Olympics - the choice of phrasing emphasizes just how much the Olympics affect the skaters) and it’s something that I’ve seen many times, even up to the current Olympics. Really, the people who usually don’t make mistakes end up making mistakes and things that you’ve been able to do easily many times before somehow become difficult; you don’t know what’s normal anymore - that’s what I think the Olympics is.
[21:42]
Yama: And Hanyu, in the recent World Championships...
Yuzu: Yes.
Yama: You were, when the SP had ended, you were in 5th place. (Yuzu nods) “This person is in 5th place, waaah this is tough!” - that’s what many would’ve thought. What did you think? (t/n: the word used is komaru, which has many meanings but in this context refers to being in a difficult situation and feeling troubled by it, and also carries the idea of “what should I do?”)
Yuzu: I was troubled by it.
Yama: You were??
Yuzu: Yes I was.
Yama: But 10 points… with just one jump you could change that - didn’t you feel that way?
Yuzu: No I didn’t. To be honest… well it’s true that the 10 point difference after the SP, to gain that back in the FP is not really, to put it bluntly, it’s not difficult. But, when you’re talking about a high level competition, it really is quite difficult (to make up for) a 10 point difference. And for me, well, um..this whole season I hadn’t been able to do a clean FP performance. If you were going to pick one (i.e. between the FP and SP), there were more competitions where I had somehow managed to win because of my SP scores (than because of my FP), so I was really pretty depressed. On a psychological level (t/n: the word used is seishin, which refers to the heart/mind/soul), I was hit pretty hard.
Yama: But that score and that enjoyment (of watching), somehow it had an explosive quality to it didn’t it? (An almost) physical sensation (of the explosion).
Yuzu: Mmm……..weeellll….it exploded just right (t/n: you can see he really doesn’t agree with that description in how he drags and hums, and in the last sentence his word choice indicates that he didn’t create the explosion, rather, the explosion somehow happened for him on its own)
Yama: As expected (of Yuzuru).
(everyone laughs and applauds, to which he does a little bow)
[22:54]
Yama: Ah, um, with the two of you, just for a bit, I’d like to reminisce about Sendai a little. Arakawa, how has it been? Did returning to Sendai stir up any memories, or when leaving Sendai what makes you think “ah that’s (better in) Sendai”
Shizuka: It’s the food after all.
Yama: The food?
Shizuka: It’s delicious.
Yama: We’re suddenly talking about food?
Shizuka: Yes. When I was living here, I didn’t really have many chances to eat out, so I grew up imagining the taste of home-cooked food more than the goodness of Sendai’s food. Or rather, I should say I was brought up with the taste of home-cooked food. Having said that, after becoming an adult (she starts to smile here) and returning back to Sendai, after going to different restaurants here and there, no matter where I go or what I eat, everything is delicious. That’s what I think. Whereas (when I go to) other places, I think “I can’t experience (t/n: literally, taste) these emotions”, and that’s because I went out into the world (t/n: this refers to anywhere out of Sendai, including other parts of Japan) with a tongue that was, after all, trained in Sendai. And when I left, (I thought) for the first time - because I had grown up thinking (that the taste of food in Sendai) was the norm - when I left Sendai, I learned for the first time just how high the quality of food in Sendai is. And since then, I always return here looking forward to eating.
Yama: Considering that (you like to eat) you’ve not put on weight at all!
Shizuka: Yes…...you’re right…. (Yuzu nods vigorously in the background) Up until the first half of my 20s everything I ate went to nourishing my body….but as I age…
Yama: As you age... (t/n: she says this like she’s very old, so he’s repeating this with a sense of disbelief since he’s a lot older than her)
Shizuka: (laughs and continues)....it’s not nourishing my body anymore.
Yama: So foods, if you talk about Sendai, during my time at least, (it was things like) Monaka or bars or things like that. Now it’s beef tongue and such, there are many tasty things now.
Shizuka: Yes there are.
[picture of beef tongue on video]
Shizuka: There are sweet things and sour things, many different types. The picture appeared so suddenly it gave me a shock! (everyone laughs) I ate this the day before yesterday.
Yama: I see. They have this at Tokyo train station too but Sendai’s beef tongue is reeeally good isn’t it?
Shizuka: Tokyo Station has the same store but in the end Sendai’s store is just a little…
Yama: Different.
Shizuka: it’s different. That difference is something I look forward to when eating.
(Yama laughs)
[24:47]
Yama: Hanyu what about you? When you come back to Sendai what comes to mind?
Yuzu: About Sendai? Hmm well for me, when I think about Sendai, on the contrary, the image of “Off” (t/n: i.e. day off work) is strong. Of course right now I don’t go out very much, but when I was young I played at places like Nanakita Park. 
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- Courtesy of PARKFUL
Yama: If I said “besides practice and your off days at home, you don’t spend much time on anything else.” Is this not the case?
Yuzu: No thaaat’s...not really the case either... If you had to pick (between having spare time and no spare time), there is a lot of time that I don’t spend on practice. Rather, if there was anything else I spend time on besides practice, it would be things like gaming or sleeping. Something like that. (laughs)
Yama: A game where victory is at stake.
Yuzu: Winning in a game is….definitely important.
Yama: Is that so?
Yuzu: Definitely, you must not lose.
(everyone laughs)
Yama: Well, it’s that isn’t it, starting from your Mother and Father (you can see Yuzu looking to the side here as he tries to follow the sudden change of topic) to your sibling, your family… seeing these great people when you return makes you relaxed doesn’t it?
Yuzu: I do feel relaxed, yes. Well, I’m together with my mother a lot (t/n: he says parent actually, but also quantifies “two of us”, so I assume he means mother) but when I go to Canada, I can’t help but shift gears and focus on skating. On the other hand, when I come back here to Sendai, after all my family is here and my home is here, so it really makes me feel calm and relieved. But that also means I can’t really get into a skating mentality. (laughs)
Yama: How is it? Going for away, when you think about Sendai, is the thing that comes to mind… the image of your family?
Yuzu: Yes, that’s right. The image of my family comes to mind the most often, mm. Of course, when I come back to Sendai and return to the house, it’s not like there aren’t times when my family isn’t around, because of our schedules. But definitely, if my family is around then it really makes you feel like “Ah I’ve come home”.
Yama: Yes that is the case isn’t it? Well, family, friends and also the fans, the Municipal people, sponsors and many others all came together (to represent) Sendai and have a history of supporting both of you up till now.
[26:37]
Yama: Soon we will go into the off season, how will that be? Hanyu after this, you have WTT correct?
Yuzu: Yes. WTT is in...the official practice sessions start in about 5 days...I really have to do my best (laughs) Please let me practice.
(crowd laughs and applauds)
Yama: You’re a practice machine, aren’t you? (t/n: the phrase is literally “a bug of ___” meaning someone who is extremely passionate about ____. Think “bookworm” in english, except a little more widely applicable)
Yuzu: I’m not that hard working actually (t/n: literally: I’m not a bug), in one day I only practice about 2 hours or so, to the point where I’ve been told “please practice more”.
Yama: Is that so?
Yuzu: But even though it’s a short period of time, I’m very good at concentrating. I’ll really, for 2 hours, I’ll skate and skate till my feet are tearing off.
Yama: That right there might really be the secret of (your) “strength”.
Yuzu: In the end during a competition there’s only 4 and a half minutes (t/n: for FP) and 2mins and 40secs (t/n: for SP), so in order to gain the strength to display (your abilities), there’s nothing better than this (form of practicing).
Yama: Alright, on the other hand (gestures to Shizuka), for this upcoming Olympics we ended up with 2 spots for the ladies. As a professional figure skater (t/n: i.e. non-competitive), is there anything you have to say to the skaters who will be continuing after this?
Shizuka: Yes well, as you’d expect, the world level right now has, together with the Men’s, increased suddenly - well it rises in any generation but - within this (situation) it’ll be 2 spots amongst the many Japanese skaters of amazing quality, so it will be an extremely intense fight to win those 2 places to go to the Olympics for the ladies. Therefore, I think the skaters who win those spots will grow from the fierce competition (t/n: the phrase “shinogi wo kezuru” means literally to fight so hard that the ridge of a Japanese sword is shaved off by the force of the other blade), and be able to skate with confidence at the Olympics.
Yama: It’s often said isn’t it, that the stronger the blades grate on each other within a team, the stronger the team will be, right?
Shizuka: Yes, that’s what I think. When a country where competition is fierce holds competitions nationally, gradually, you can measure the rise in the level of that country’s standard. This is so for Russia too. Although there has been a time when the ladies were not that strong, once many good skaters start appearing, you’ll be able to feel the country’s standard rising accordingly. It’s the same for Japan, and I think that strong generations will still continue on, so soon we will have 3 spots again. Even so, this year whilst watching (the competition), I was reminded again of how hard it is to get 3 spots. This time, in order to fight for those 2 spots, many skaters will raise their level in practice and in competition, and if the ones who can bring out that strength during the competition go strong, then that will be a big step in raising (Japan’s) level again.
Yama: Thank you very much.
[29:23]
Yama: Today we have also asked for everyone to send in questions. Shoji will bring us through the selected questions.
Shoji: Yes, the two of you have shared very interesting conversations with us. Let us now move on to the questions corner. (Yuzu is about to drop his straw here) We hope that both Arakawa and Hanyu will be able to answer some of the questions that the audience have submitted.
Shoji: First, to start with, this question goes to the both of you: “Please tell us your immediate feelings on seeing your own monument.” And here we have prepared the panels with the same design (as the monuments). Please, go ahead.
[picture of their monuments appear behind them]
Shizuka: Ah yes, well truthfully, it does make me feel a little embarrassed. (laughs) Looking at my own photo being turned into a monument like this is an honor on one hand, (but on the other hand) I’m not very comfortable with being the centre of attention and despite that I still managed to do this battle (t/n: Torino), so somehow I always feel embarrassed and always feel anxious (when I look at this) but…..(shifts in her seat to look at the panels) in the end I still feel embarrassed. But, when I look at Hanyu’s (monument) I think it looks cool. (laughs)
Shoji: I see, it’s good to talk about your impression of each other’s monument too. So then, Hanyu, please.
Yuzu: Ahhh, when I compare (mine) to Arakawa’s (t/n: he pauses a while before using the informal “yatsu” to refer to it, which roughly translates to “that one” or “that thing”), I’m really doing a simple pose aren’t I? (everyone laughs)
Shoji: Yes! As if you were saying “I did it!”
Yuzu: It’s the ending pose. Looking at it like this, how do I say this, seeing “Sochi Olympics Men’s Gold Medalist” and then my name right next to those words really makes me, how should I say this, makes me happy. The realisation dawned on me again. Also if you’ll allow me to say one more thing, Shii-chan’s eyes are super wide open! (laughs) I thought “amazing!”. (t/n: Shii-chan is a nickname that Yuzu and the rest of the older skaters call Shizuka, which I didn’t know about! Thanks to @yuzusorbet for letting me know!)
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- Courtesy of Japan Times
Shoji: Yes it is quite realistic, that part.
Yuzu: It’s amazing, really. (To Shizuka) You can see, right, when you’re doing it (the layback)?
Shizuka: Yes, I can. Oh you can’t see?
Yuzu: I-I can see but, my, my eyes don’t open that much like that. (t/n: he keeps using the sound “kaa” to emphasize how wide her eyes are open, which is just another Japanese onomatopoeia)
Shizuka: I can see everyone’s faces upside down, in that instant.
Shoji: When Hanyu says “kaa” I too (think her eyes are open wide). The both of you are really impressive figures to us and (Shizuka and Yuzu keep tilting their head backs here, mimicking the layback position) your monuments, to us are really - (laughs) ah you are doing it aren’t you - they will really become a source of encouragement for us. Thank you very much.
[31:30]
Shoji: So let us now move on to the next question, to Shizuka: “I have been doing sports since middle school till I entered the workforce and am still continuing now, but my stamina has been dropping lately and I cannot move as well as I used to. Do you continue (to do sports) every day? Or maybe even aim to do certain things in your daily activities for the sake of skating?”
Shizuka: Yes well, as you’d expect after retiring from competitions, the will to skate on your own begins to weaken, and the time you have to skate becomes less consistent. To continue skating, I make it a point to skate 5 times a week. Whatever I need to do, whichever place I go to or wherever I go, I look for a rink in the area and always go skating 5 times a week. I’ve made up my mind to do so. (audience applauds) That’s definitely because figure skating is something (that relies on) feel. The feeling you have standing on ice doesn’t exist when standing on land, so it’s very easy to lose that feel for the ice. It feels like trying to catch water with a bucket full of holes. If you don’t patch those holes up quickly sometimes you end up losing (that feeling). So to continue, but even if you do continue, as you age you do feel the deconditioning as well as a change in the feel you have for the ice. So for the part that has changed, you need to try and think of something new that you can show whilst trying to cover up (the weakened areas). In the end, that image of yourself at your peak really remains strong in your mind, so if you can’t do better than that you might feel you can’t do anything and get frustrated. But on the other hand, if you select from all the experiences you’ve had thus far, if you’re able to learn something new to display, you’ll be able to do something somehow. So therefore, from middle school, high school and to the first half of your 20s…if you continue the same way into your 30s and 40s, wouldn’t you be a monster? While thinking like that, you have no choice but to do it yourself (t/n: finding a way to continue sports) .
Shoji: Yes I see, standing in the rink is first of all, the best thing to do. But other than that, in your daily life, do you experience any other difficulties?
Shizuka: I’ve stopped being able to overdo things. In the end you’d want to know what will happen if you do a certain something, and right there, if you don’t know your own body, you won’t be able to reach your own target. If you overdo it, the effects on your body are greater with age. So therefore, live trying to connect one day to the next, a day at a time. If doing this one extra step is going to affect tomorrow more, then hold back in order to to be able to continue properly the next day. I’ve slowly learned to take into account these different areas. When you’re young, no matter what point you go to, you can recover from it the next day, but (now) when things aren’t going the way you planned, then think about how you can work together with your own body, the nature and constitution of your own body, and maybe then things will work out.
Shoji: I see. That was a detailed opinion that we can learn from, I wonder if everyone got that? (Yuzu was just nodding this whole time) It’s important to have a conversation with your own body, isn’t it?
[34:41]
Shoji: And so moving on, this is also for Shizuka: When bringing up a child, what is the most important thing?
Shizuka: Yes well, right now I have a 2 year old daughter. Um.. she is starting to develop and change, as she grows. Now when I interact with her, I think a lot about what she might be feeling when she does certain things, or what she might be feeling when she talks. I want to be able to pay close attention to these things.
Shoji: It must be rather difficult to take care of a small child but those feelings are important aren’t they?
Shizuka: Yes for me, the fact that my daughter is 2 years old also means that I, as a mother, am also 2 years old. So I’m still very new and there are many things that I don’t know or that don’t go well, and things I don’t have enough experience in. So we are both learning and I hope that I will eventually be able to face her properly (whilst doing all the above).
Shoji: Thank you very much. (audience applauds) Yes that’s right, you start clapping without realising it right? (t/n: meaning Shizuka’s answer was very praiseworthy)
 [35:41]
Shoji: And now, for Hanyu: “The World Championships the other day was wonderful.”
Yuzu: Thank you very much.
Shoji: “I’m in my first year of high school and during my piano recital I played Hope & Legacy. (Yuzu claps) I think it’s a very lovely program. Where did you get the inspiration from for this song? Please let us know.”
Yuzu: First of all, when I first heard this song, the first thing I thought of was “(it’s) very like nature, like all of the universe and creation (t/n: he uses a four character idiom here that essentially refers to both the tangible and intangible aspects of everything that could possibly exist in the universe), something that you couldn’t see with your eyes (all the way through), something that you couldn’t fully grasp the sensation of” - that’s the kind of feeling I got when i first heard the music, and I thought that that’s what I wanted to portray. At the same time, one of the other reasons why I chose this music was because of the piano and because it was Japan’s Mr. Hisaishi Joe’s creation. And lastly, this song, I’ve said this earlier on as well, but this was the opening song for Nagano’s Paralympics too. So in a manner of speaking, as I said earlier, the reason for me to start skating was also the Olympics so, in that sense, I decided to use this song.
Shoji: As expected, the sensitivity (of the song and his reasons) are more polished than usual.
Yuzu: When I hear the song, I start to think “ahh this song is like this, like that” and such, and I skate with those feelings.
Shoji: Are there many times where you felt “Ah! This is it!” (with this song)?
Yuzu: Yes well, of course I normally listen to many different kinds of music and I have come across many different types. But in the end, especially when I’m choosing a song for my program, I listen to many pieces of music and think about how to draw certain things from the music, how is it that I will use my body to draw those things out of the music. That’s how I listen to and think about my music choices.
Shoji: Thank you very much. And so, the last question, this goes to Hanyu. “The skating techniques that you like (Shizuka starts smiling), the skating techniques that you are good at. Please tell us three of them.”
Yuzu: Three. Three? (laughs) First of all, one is the triple - not just the double - Axel. I really love the Axel jump, really, ever since I was young, from when I was under Coach Tsuzuki. I would have 1 hr private lessons with him, out of which 45mins was spent on the Axel. (laughs) I really loved it, but the fact that the Axel is that important a jump is something that I really feel when I’m skating now. Definitely more than anything, in my current program, I think my number one weapon is probably the 3A. In that sense, I do think it was a good thing (that I love it so much). After that...two things that I’m good at...after that is probably the spin, especially the sit spin. The sit spin is really, well, I think probably right from the start my hip joints were flexible, so I can do the sit spin from a really low position and so it’s unexpectedly easier for me to rotate. So I think the reason for that might be my own body’s predisposition. Also, I do feel inside that the sit spin is very easy to match to the music, so in that sense doing it makes me feel good. And one more...yes well....mmm… now maybe it’s the Salchow. Um (he laughs as he hears the crowd’s response)
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- Courtesy of sportsphoto CN (uploaded from livejournal)
Shoji: Ah from the audience! “Now? Now?”
Yuzu: Yes now. (laughs) Because I finally managed to jump the Salchow in the 2nd half. But honestly I just like edge jumps. Especially for the Salchow, in that moment you jump it, it’s really… how do I say this…being able to jump without any excess energy and landing with a good flow out of the jump… it’s only the Salchow and Axel (that give me this feeling). Definitely that special feeling comes with the Salchow.
Shoji: I see. You have chosen three with deliberation and introduced them to us. I hope that everyone will look at these moves in a new light and pay more attention to them in the future. Thank you very much.
Yuzu: Thank you very much.
[39:37]
Shoji: We have asked the both of you questions. Really, we had so many questions that they couldn’t be carried with two hands, but I would like to apologise to everyone for the limited time we have and that we could not answer all the questions. This ends the questions corner. (Yuzu mouths thank you again) And now can we please have the three of you come to the front?
Shoji: Today, under the coordination of Yamamoto, we were able to keep the conversation going. However, he will be leaving us at this point. Before that, we would like to ask him: We have 2 Olympic gold medalists here today, both from Sendai. What do you think about the birth of these two (t/n: she means of them coming from Sendai, not their actual birth)?
Yama: From before, the people and atmosphere of Sendai have always treated sports as important and have moved to support those who work hard for the future. Even if you look at other sports, you can tell how much the people of Sendai love sports. Because of these two and what they have left behind, that feeling will spread and inspire the younger generations that come after them. I hope that this sense of continuation will be treasured by everyone. From here on too, we hope to continue watching you for a long time. Thank you very much.
Shoji: We spent a short time together but thank you very much Yamamoto. And now, you both are still here. Yes, we would like to keep watching you for a long time. Today we have asked you to participate in our ceremony and right now in front of us there are these children who are also involved in figure skating. How do you both feel seeing this? Seeing these children who are working hard at skating, Arakawa, how do you feel?
Shizuka: Yes well, if you work hard with everything you have towards something, the time spent will contribute to your growth so really, with your own determination, start something and with your own determination, keep chasing after it. I think that’s important. So looking at everyone now and knowing that everyone is trying their best makes me really happy, so to everyone who has found that something, I hope you will put in all your effort and give it everything you have. If you do that, it will definitely contribute to the other parts of your life, so I hope you will work hard.
Shoji: Yes and Hanyu, you are still, just a little closer to being, a student compared to Arakawa but if you could remember those times and tell us your thoughts?
Yuzu: Yes. After hearing what Arakawa has to say, once again I thought that I need to work hard as well. Figure skating is really a competition that is difficult to balance, be it the feelings, the techniques or the artistry. Of course it is a competition where there’ll be people who like your performance and people who hate it, so I think it’s extremely difficult. But each and every single person has a style of skating that only they can do and that is what is interesting about figure skating. So please, treasure your own (style of) skating, and come to like it, and from here on forward I hope you will continue skating.
Shoji: And now, we will present both Arakawa and Hanyu with bouquets. The ones presenting the bouquets will be children from two local skating clubs (t/n: sorry was too tired to translate the full club or children’s names)
[Presentation of bouquets]
[45:23]
Shoji: Today we are really proud to host you both in this hall. Time really passes when you are having fun. Lastly, may we please have a word from you both? Starting from Arakawa.
Shizuka: Today, being invited here to this kind of unveiling ceremony for the monument, and for letting me take part in this talk show with the special Hanyu, is an honour. I think that from now on many skaters will be brought up in Sendai, but taking full advantage of the chance you have been given is very important, not only in skating but in other areas of your life too. Having something to work towards and put your all in is, to me as well, something to be happy for, so from here onwards too, it would be good to work hard towards that something. Also, I would like to work hard towards reviving figure skating and making it popular again. Everyone please, from here on out, please continue to look after the sport of figure skating. Thank you very much.
Shoji: Thank you very much. Next, Hanyu please.
Yuzu: Yes. I don’t get many chances to speak at places like this. Time really passed by in a flash whilst I was having fun. As someone who benefitted from her words, I too want to express my gratitude to Arakawa (he stresses this word and bows to her). I listened to a lot of things and had fun, and it’s come to an end so quickly. From here I will once again, for WTT - even though it really is very close - I will take what I learned here and work hard. I hope that figure skating will continue to develop here in Sendai and with that wish, I would like to end today here. Thank you very much.
(skipped the rest of the video)
End
Thank you Sendai for the wonderful HQ footage and great interview, it was really nice to see them so relaxed. This took a lot more effort translating than I initially thought, so again thank you so much to @raomina and those who messaged me and left notes. I hope we can all enjoy WTT! :))
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Text
The Genetic: Part 2
I guess gore? There is a point where there is gore-like scenes.
She stood with her companion with his arm holding her steady. A few others in the back were staring at the new comers, unsure on what to say or do. After an hour, the truck finally stopped. The back door opened and the ramp was pulled out. “Come along everyone. Welcome home,” the large brute of a woman said. Everyone slowly walked out, then followed her into a large manor. The man in the trench coat waited by the door, a smile on his face. “Welcome, Genetic,” he said as soon as the duo passed.
“Listen. As much as I want an explanation right now, I can’t. Something is wrong with Big Brother, and I really need to fix it,” she said. “No problem. I think our lead mechanic can do the trick,” he said. “No. He doesn’t understand the workings of Big Brother. I have to fix him,” she said. “Alright. Then we will lend you the work shop,” he said. They walked in, going into the living room. “Hey, Georgie. Can you show them to your workshop?” the man said. A thin, short man walked up to them, then turned pale at the look of her. “I-Is zat blood?” he asked with a thick French accent.
“I just came from a sick and twisted place. Sorry I couldn’t dress fancy for you,” she said. “Just, show her to the workshop,” the man said. The smaller one nodded, then guided the duo to the work shop. He then left them in peace. She removed her backpacks, along with the large one he carried. She placed them down and out of the way, then removed her large coat. Scars of various sizes and shapes littered her body. She had gone through hell, a war even. But now she was standing here, free from that god forsaken nightmare.
Wrapped tightly around her chest, acting as her shirt, was strips of cloth that was dirtied with grime and dried blood. She stretched her arms out, feeling a bit more free from the confines of her outer attire. She then turned to her companion, a soft smile on her face. “What seems to be the issue buddy?” she asked. With a low groan, it pointed to its chest. “Ticker is running out? This should be an easy fix. I’m going to put you on Standing Standby. Alright?” she said. It nodded, then stood completely straight.
She reached up to its helmet, then flipped one of the switches. She waited for the miner’s light, and the light behind the window of the wielding mask to go out. She then unzipped the front of his suit, revealing a metal panel. She carefully unscrewed it, resting it against his leg. Inside was a work of tubes and wiring connected to different organs and muscles. Sitting in the very center was a heart with a metal block that had three wires connecting it to a point beyond view. “There is your problem. Your heart is too small. I’m going to need a horse heart,” she said.
She then looked at the metal block, carefully opening it. When she did, a few broken gears fell out and onto the floor. “Along with new gears. Maybe that engineer has some I can borrow,” she said. She lightly patted on her companions shoulder, “I’ll be back in a bit.” She then walked over to her bag, fishing out a few papers. When she finally pulled them out, she shuffled through them until she found the ones she needed. She placed the others back in, then walked out of the room.
When she did, she ran into a man with a hard and bored expression that was accompanied by another male with a big grin and was blabbering. Both stopped and looked at her, her expression matching that of the bored male. “Oh! You’re the newbie! Welcome!” the happy man said, smiling. She looked at him, noticing a monkey tail coming from him. She squinted her eyes slightly, then look at them. “We heard you’re called the Genetic,” the other said, his voice monotone and deep. “I guess so,” she replied.
“Well, I’m Henry!! I act as the chemical and science expert!!” the happy man said. “Then you can help me,” she said. “Really?!” he asked, his eyes sparkling. “I need these three compounds created. Big Brother cannot function without them,” she said, handing him the papers. He gasped, then took them and ran. “Thank...you?” she said as he disappeared behind a door. She then turned to the other as the mechanic walked up. “Oh god!! Even your, shirt, sing, is covered in blood!!” Georgie said, going pale.
“Like I said. I came from a sick and twisted place. Do you have any spare gears I can use?” she said, looking to the smaller male. “Oui. Zere are different boxes in ze back. Each one has a specific size,” he said, shaking. “Thank you,” she said. “I need some tea,” he muttered before walking off. She finally turned to the male with the hard stare. “I’m the doctor of this place. It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said. “Like wise. Do you have any hearts?” she asked. “Depends. What do you need?” he asked.
“I need a horse heart with no blood in it. Do you have that?” she asked. “Yes. Follow me,” he said. She walked with him to the medical room, with him going into a walking cooler. He came back out with a styrofoam box. “Here you are. Mind if I look at your companion?” he asked. “Sure. I’m going to have to wait for your scientist friend for the compounds,” she said, taking the box and walking out. They were heading to the mechanics room, when they noticed two others walking towards them. They looked to have been twins.
Both caught sight of her, then were suddenly gone. She quickly handed the both to the doctor, then held her hands out. The twin males were suddenly in front of her, hanging upside down. “Whoa! What is this?” one said. “This looks like fun,” the other laughed. “You two are so annoying,” the doctor grumbled. “Whatever. This the newbie?” the first asked. “This is Ryan and Richard. The ‘Twin Bolts’ or something,” the doctor said. “Yo. Sup,” they said. “Charmed. But I would appreciated it if you didn’t use your speed around me,” she said.
“You couldn’t see us. How did you know?” Ryan asked. “This isn’t my first time messing with mutants,” she said, closing her hands. The both of them fell onto the floor, head first. Both groaned as the scientist walked out with three large glass bottles. “Ah! I see you met the twins! Anyway, here is your compounds!” he said. She moved her hand slightly, using telekinesis to get carry the bottles over. “Oh my!! Another mutant!! Yay!” the scientist cheered, dancing in place. “I didn’t chose to be one,” she said, keeping the bottles floating above her.
All was interrupted when the mechanic came running out of his workshop and into the bathroom that was near them. He then proceeded to vomit into the toilet. “I should have warned you about Big Brother,” she said. She then continued her walk, ignoring the two groaning men on the floor. The doctor followed suit with the scientist bouncing after them. When they entered the shop, she placed the bottles down on the counter and looked in the boxes the mechanic spoke about, finding the needed gears. “Incredible,” the doctor said as he placed the box down, looking at her companion.
“So. What did you need those compounds for?” Henry said. “They are what make Big Brother run. They mix together in his system and create energy. One once from each can run him for a few weeks. But, if my calculations are correct then he is,” she opened three tanks on his back, “running out.” Using her telekinesis, she started to pour the liquids into their specific tank. When they reached the set limit, she stopped. She placed the bottles back down and quickly found tape and a pen. She wrote on the tape, then placed them on the bottle.
She went back into through her bags, finding a tube of transparent blue gel. She then pulled out her hunter’s knife. “I could have gotten a scalpel,” the doctor said. “It would have done nothing,” she replied. She very carefully removed the metal bar, then cut the biological tubes to the heart. She held the heart in her hand, looking to the doctor. “Mind opening the box for me?” she asked. He did so, letting her place the other heart on the lid. She lifted the horse heart and held it in there before placing the metal bar back in it.
She then took the tube and handed it to the doctor. “I need you to open that for me, and place a small amount on my fingers,” she said. He nodded and followed her instruction. With the transparent gel, she rubbed a little on each tube for the heart and the body one by one. Quickly growing over them was something that looked very similar material to the actual tubing. Once all of them were connected, she scrapped the excess on the tube cap. She then quickly went to work with the gears. She triple checked everything, then finally closed the small panel.
Then she placed the large panel back in place and sealed it. After zipping up his suit, she flipped the switch back on. With a low groan and a few moments of steam, the lights lit back up. It clenched and unclenched its fist, moved its arms, then finally shuffled its feet. “How’s the ticker now, Big Brother?” she asked. It looked at her, letting out a mechanical groan. It then lift her up and hugged her gently. “Glad to see you working big guy,” she said, smiling. It placed her down a moment after.
“Oh! I just remembered! Boss stepped out. He was sending me and Chris to do that,” Henry said. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Christopher?” the doctor groaned. “In that case, do you have tools for weapon cleaning?” she asked as she placed the bottles in a backpack. “Yeah!! We have a separate workshop for that!!” Henry said, bouncing. She grabbed most of her bags, but her companion took the rest. She just chuckled at him. They then followed the bouncing scientist, Christopher joining them.
When they made it to the weapon work shop, she was starting to get a headache from this energetic mutant. She quickly fished out the other papers in her bag, and turned to him. “I need you to create these,” she said. “Oh!! What are they?!” he asked, bouncing up and down in place. “One of them is the tonic that lets me use my powers. The others are elixirs that were created, but a couple of them aren’t. I have them marked. But some are the last pieces that I was told to get to finish the experiment,” she said. “Experiment?!” he asked, gasping. “Me,” she said in a cold tone.
His face fell as his tail drooped. “Oh. I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s fine. I was created to be this. Not my fault,” she said. “I’ll work on these right away!” he said. “Wait,” she said, gently pulling him back. “What?” he asked. “Do not make more than just one of the elixirs. No one else can handle these things. Only me and Big Brother can,” she said. “Oh. Does he have any?” he asked, tilting his head. “No,” she said. “Then I’ll make ones for him as well then!!” he said, smiling. “The ones marked are the ones I have,” she said as she released him.
He quickly rushed off, a smile on his face. She sighed, then turned to her companion and the doctor. “Thank you for getting rid of him,” he muttered. “No problem. Now, let’s clean these weapons of ours,” she said, walking over to the bag her companion carried. The doctor took an empty chair, staring and studying her. Her large companion looked around the room, his heavy step heard ever so often. “What is it that you are looking for, doctor?” she asked suddenly, breaking his concentration. “Just, who you are, dear,” he said.
Her body jolted up and stiffened. Her breathing became heavy as her hands started to shake. Static started to form around her fingers as memories placed. Strapped onto a table, screaming and crying. “Hush now dear,” came the overly sweet voice, “Hush. It will be over soon.” She struggled to get free. Then came the first hit. “See what you made me do, dear,” came the overly sweet voice again. It was sickening. But she continued to struggle. Thus causing the second hit, this one more painful and heavy. Left a ringing in her ears. “Hush, dear. Hush,” was the last thing she heard.
She was suddenly brought back into reality by a pair of arms hold her shoulders. She looked up to see her companion. She looked down at her hands, the sparks now up to her forearms. She looked back up, now noticing the tears on her face. She looked around and found the doctor missing. “D-Doctor?” she questioned, fearing the worse. “Down, here,” he coughed out. She quickly rushed over to him to find him lying on the floor. He coughed slightly, then opened his eyes. She wanted to help him out, but the sparks were still there. They wouldn’t leave.
“I, I’m sorry,” she said, holding her hands against her chest. She backed away as her companion went to help him up. “It’s alright. Can you tell me what I said that triggered you?” he asked, being very careful. “That, that pet name. It’s what, what Dr. Glen use to call me,” she said. “Who is that, if I may ask?” She took a deep breath, keeping her hands against her chest. “He, was the one, who started the whole mess in Geneva,” she said, “He is the one who made, this,” she said, looking at her hands. The sparks remained in their place, even when she tried to switch them out.
“I am sorry all of that trauma was done to you. I know it will take time to heal,” he said. “Did, did I knock you to the ground?” she asked. “Yes. A bolt shot at me. But I was quick enough to change,” he said. “Change?” she questioned. He pulled up his sweater sleeve, then held his arm out. Within a blink of an eye, his arm was bulky and an earthy color. “I was experimented on as a kid, much like yourself. I was closed off from the world until every genetic toxin they created was inside me. I have similar abilities as you do,” he said before reverting his arm back.
She stared at him, shocked. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Do not worry. Being here has made it better. I now can use these, these curses as gifts to help the world,” he said, “That’s why they brought you here. We’ve heard about you for a long time. Your code name was ‘The Genetic.’ We just didn’t know where to find you. Hell, most of us thought you were just a myth! But you are more powerful than you think,” he said. She looked down at the table, taking in a deep breath. She released it as the sparks returned to just her hands, then finally disappeared.
“Thank you,” she said. “You are most welcome,” he said. She was silent for a moment, then looked him in the eyes. “Sweetheart,” she said. “Excuse me?” he questioned. “That was the only pet name I was never given,” she said. He nodded in understanding. “I’ll be sure to spread it around to everyone,” he said. She nodded as she sighed out a breath. She went back into her companion’s bag as the twins walked in. Just as they were about to make a comment, she stood back up with a Minigun in her hands. They disappeared the second they saw her.
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idolizerp · 6 years
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LOADING INFORMATION ON TITANIUM’S MAIN RAP AH JINGYI...
IDOL DETAILS
STAGENAME: n/a CURRENT AGE: 24 DEBUT AGE: 21 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 15 COMPANY: Midas SECONDARY SKILL: Modeling
IDOL PROFILE
NICKNAME: Sleeping Beauty. Over the past few years, the fans would notice that Jingyi likes to sleep, it doesn’t matter where or who’s around, he’s going to get his beauty sleep. SPECIAL TALENT:
He’s able to play The Pipa, Jingyi started playing when he was 12 years old as a hobby.
Proud to say that he can moonwalk with and without shoes on.
Is able to flip his tongue upside down and can also make weird curves with it. 
NOTABLE FACTS:
Studies astrology for fun, he picked up on Chinese fortune telling as a way to entertain himself on his days off
Was able to help donate clothes to kids in the orphanage in China.
Writes poetry, has three books filled with his own poems that he hopes to share with the fans one day.
Was apart of a Kendo and fencing team in high school, continued to play until he came to Korea. 
Not a big fan of dying his hair but will make an exception for blond.
IDOL GOALS
SHORT-TERM GOALS:
As of right now, Jingyi still wants to continue to work in fashion and get his name out into that industry, hopefully landing more opportunities in the future. His next big goal would get invited to a brand event before making his debut on the runway. 
LONG-TERM GOALS:
He still wants to focus on music but be well known as a model with endorsements on his side. Jingyi wants to model for a while, be big in fashion and hopefully make his own company surrounded by that. 
IDOL IMAGE
Some say he’s like a fox, sly and cunning with sharp eyes watching your every move. Doesn’t hide the fact that he’s confident, wanting to stay himself no matter what. Staying alert and intelligent, Jingyi mostly succeeds through the sheer force of his personality, its what he uses to get what he wants; thriving off the thrill of holding some kind of success in the palm of his hand. Largely misunderstood to be a shy, retreating individual, it’s his unique stature that defines his survival strategy when it comes to being a rising idol on a mission. Rely’s on his sharp mind and engaging personality to garner resources, using those resources to quickly improve himself and gain a better understanding of situations. Jingyi consequently spends a lot of time in his own head, giving the impression that he’s trying to outsmart his friends or just about anyone. He is often surprised to learn that his intellectual pursuits are intimidating.
Flamboyance is usually not Jingyi’s style, preferring to remain inconspicuous in choose subtlety and cunning over brute strength. The company thought it would be best that he stayed quiet, only allowing him to crack small jokes that were quite odd but funny enough if he timed everything correctly. Keeps a good physical shape and enjoy sports that challenge his mind, body, and soul. He’s typically successful in whatever he puts his mind to, but his competitiveness and ambition sometimes make others feel belittled. He would never deliberately take advantage of others, but their single-mindedness often blinds them to his feelings.
IDOL HISTORY
ah jingyi was born into a family struggling to maintain a steady income. when his mother was notified that she was, indeed, pregnant, she cried for hours, fumbling over apologies while her husband paced back and forth with fingers rubbing his temples. he could not blame his newlywed wife, for the incident was partially his fault. he should have been more careful. despite the struggles that would come with having the child, they accepted it as miracle hoping their child would bring good to the family.
for years, they believed that he would not. he was a gregarious child who adored to run around with his hands reaching for all. when his mother would walk outside to tend the garden, jingyi would slip through the door to let his bare feet hit the ground. running far, he ignored his name being yelled by the poor woman. what jingyi did not know is that he would be to blame for the later domestic abuse. due to his stunt of maturity, his mother would suffer the burden of a man’s hand against her cheek. she would cry for hours in her bedroom, and jingyi would crawl inside to comfort her. she shook under his touch, and he never knew why. he never knew it was because of his father. he never knew until she passed away.
his father pointed a finger, standing close to his jingyi’s physique, and his face was red with anger. “this is all your fault,” he yelled. it was jingyi’s fault. if he has been a better son, maybe his mother would still be here. jingyi ran that night. he ran, and he never came back home. he was thirteen, and his innocence no longer existed.
his mother’s side of the family worried for jingyi, worried for his safety and well-being. so, the family decided to take full custody of jingyi, with little to no fight from his father who suddenly turned his back on the world itself. the young boy felt lost, alone in the home that was supposed to be filled with love, but it was filled with the memories of his mother who seemed happier before she got married to a man with no self-control.
wanting to find something to distract himself with was an ideal idea when it came to jingyi, something that would keep him off the streets and safe from any prying hands. aside from doing taekwondo at a young age with his cousins, jingyi had suddenly become interested in music after he received flashbacks of his mother singing all the time and hearing many stories from his aunt about how she’d sing to jingyi even when he was in her womb. he couldn’t see himself as a true singer though, it just wasn’t his style so he moved over to rapping or hip hop. he was truly fond of urban and hip-hop music from the states and imputed that into his own songs whenever he had time to write them out. it was all for fun at one point, his aunt thinking it was a waste of time but jingyi grew to love it so much he had to do something.
it took a lot of convincing before his aunt allowed him to take lessons, explaining to him that it’s a waste of time and money but she gave in sooner than he expected. a fifteen year old, ruthless boy taking lessons to pursue something so stupid, seemed like a step down in some eyes. he went through the harsh reality with grueling practices that lasted long hours, even picking up on dancing to have some skills to fall back on. many times, he was faced with difficulties, harsh criticisms which slowly shaped the false persona he had created since middle school into something more solid and convincing. away went his gloomy behavior  ( as deemed by one of his instructors ) and out came a friendlier outer image, something that wouldn’t scare people away.
One of the teachers proposed getting him to try out for companies in the district of China if he truly wanted to get somewhere with his rapping. a hip new company that was looking for fresh new faces and growing talent. it all seemed too real, causing the teen to be a bit skeptical at first, but after visiting the company himself - he took it upon himself to sign up for an audition that was months away. companies in his hometown never lasted that long, he was too young to understand such a thing at the time. he wasn’t even confident in his abilities to audition for anything but his aunt was too invested that she gave him a little push with her hand. that was probably his biggest regret in life, the decision that set his future in stone.
his road towards fame was not easy, but he didn’t know what he was getting himself into. gaining a position as one of the first few trainees under offshore entertainment, jingyi was completely satisfied with where he was, feeling like he did something right for once in his life. he spent two years as a trainee, working so hard until his body broke down from exhaustion. he was hospitalized from dehydration for a couple of days before being released, suddenly hearing bad news about the company that was supposed to be his ticket to fame and fortune. the company wasn’t making money and had went under months before they announced a new boy group, a group jingyi was promised to be placed in.
yet another disappointment that crashed and burned in his life.
being dropped without giving a chance was another let down in his life. being turned down was a big kick in his stomach, causing him to feel a little discouraged for a few months and giving up on the dream he worked hard for. jingyi took a break, reflecting a little on life itself - only giving the idol life another try when he was more mature and ready to give it his all again. he had heard about an international audition that was being held by a well known company in Korea, a country that created the biggest groups in history. he just had one problem - he couldn’t speak the language, let alone rap in it. learning the language was the hardest part in jingyi’s life, it was relatively difficult to audition with only the basic understanding of the language that he learned when his cousin picked up the same language a year before him. he had to endure the struggles of learning from books and the internet, his aunt even grew impatient with this useless dream of his but she gave him one last chance. placing him in a tutoring sessions for the international students from all over the world that were suddenly interested in learning a foreign language. his lack of self-awareness for how things worked had made his life a bit hard, but with the constant threats from his aunt and the adrenaline rush from coffee he bought almost everyday - jingyi was able to learn within eight months.
he had the hard part packed down, he just needed to land himself a spot in the competition and gain the companies attention. he couldn’t even remember how many hours he had spent in trying to study other famous rappers until he could find his own style - something he could call him, never wanting to be another disappointing member of his family. even trying his hands at dancing again, wanting to be the most perfect artist he could possibly be at this point. he showed potential and it was enough for the company to pick him. this was something he’s been yearning for in all his seventeen years of living. he trained hard, giving up half of his young adult life to pursue a career that wasn’t always 100% trustworthy - if you’re thinking long term. all those late night practices he was able to squeeze in before curfew was worth it. he felt confident enough in his ability to take the attention from other’s with his constant flow of words as he had prepared for the day the company decided to debut another group. the waiting game had grew tiresome over the years, but he had faith in his own ability that his blessing would come soon.
being a trainee for seven years now had been a little bittersweet for jingyi, never wanting to give up. this was his dream, a dream he had to work hard to achieve, his calling would come soon and it did. It’s been a while since jingyi was placed in the groups watch list for new debuts, it was like the company had given up on him but the higher-ups still had a plan to use him just like he always wanted. he’s been through it before, being picked and dropped for someone else but not this time - this was his time to finally shine and give it his all. the boys were soon given strict training time before their official debut and he didn’t crack under the pressure, he couldn’t slip up or give the other’s a hard time when he was tired. titanium was the name, a group he was finally placed under that would give him some kind of satisfaction. he finally made it at the age of twenty-one, his dreams were coming true. He didn’t expect the group to explode like they did, with their experimental concepts, to the mysterious looks they were given over the years. Jingyi was growing as an artist, he still was till this day - making mistakes and learning from them as he went along. Five years had already passed when he first touched the stage, it was still so new to him, the feeling of performing and being out there for everyone to see him.
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