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widow-maximov · 7 months

Text

Parenting Miracle

Pairing: Wanda x Fem!Reader

Warning: tooth rotting, fluff, mention of death, little bit of angst, happy ending.

Summary: Ending up widowed with a kid was never in your cards. Will moving away solve your issues?

Word count: 6.7k

My requests are always open so feel more than welcome to pop in a suggestion for the next story :3

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This is definitely not how you imagined your life to end up like. Being a parent was never in your cards..- Let me rephrase. Being an alone parent was never in your cards.

After your wives passing, you were devastated. Understandably so, you lost your wife in a tragic accident and you were left with your daughter to raise.

It was a horrible timing but for the better of your daughter you had to be strong. So, the past 7 years, as she grew up you knew you needed a fresh start.

Somewhere that doesn't remind you of your late wife. You knew you had to break the news to your daughter and the surrounding family.

But at the same time, you knew they would understand. Somehow, even your sister decided to move away with you, to help you settle and have your daughter be comfortable with someone she knew around.

You agreed and just like that, you moved. Obviously it took a little longer than just like that. But you managed and felt very proud of yourself for being able to do all of this.

You were glad that your sister went with you. She was with Talia whilst you worked very hard. It was slightly exhausting but with almost a year behind you.

You managed to secure yourself a place in the company, getting paid well enough with your experience that you did hybrid work. Sometimes being at the company, sometimes at home.

But it was mostly at home since you had to take care of your daughter. Even though you lived here almost a full year, you never took notice of the neighbours.

Until your sister stopped taking Talia to school, and it was now your responsibility. You never even knew Talia even made friends that lived close by.

It was until you were busy in your office when you heard quiet chatting. You were confused so naturally you went to check it out.

You found your daughter on a stool, talking over the balcony to two boys. You raised your brows at her and cleared your throat. Causing the younger girl to look over at you.

"Hello mommy." She spoke as she smiled at the sight of you.

You walked up to her as you placed your hand on her back and kissed the top of her head. "Who are you talking to?"

Her attention turned to the two boys that were smiling wide at you from the other side of the gap that separated your balcony from theirs. "That's Tommy and Billy. They are both from my class."

You hummed, as they muttered a hello to you. "Well, nice to meet you boys, but unfortunately I will have to take Talia away, she has some homework to do."

They whined in disappointment but that's how life was. Just as you were about to let Talia get off the stool. Tommy's light bulb lit up as he quickly blurted out. "Can we go outside to the park tomorrow, so she is done with homework and rested?"

You could see how her eyes lit up at the idea. She looked up at you with so much hope that you would agree. You couldn't disagree, even if you had a meeting tomorrow, you could just not attend it.

So you agreed. Though you never met Tommy's or Billy's parents, you hoped they were just as mannered as the boys. "Alright then, we will be at the park across the street after lunch."

They all cheered, and that brought pure joy to your heart. You managed to pull Talia away from the cheers and made her focus on her homework.

It wasn't anything hard, just some easy math that the teacher set. You wanted that done for her so she was ready and rested for the next day.

And that's what was happening, she was too excited that almost every time she asked if it was the time to go. All morning and all through lunch.

Almost nearly rushed out the door before getting fully clothed for the weather. But you couldn't do anything about it, you loved seeing her excitement.

As you settled down on the bench near by, watching as your daughter rushed towards the slides, as you both awaited the arrival of the boys and their parents.

You took your phone out as you quickly typed out an email and sent it. Before you knew it, there were cheers and screams that pulled your attention towards the boys reuniting with Talia.

You smiled at the sight, but that short lived when a voice made its way to your ears. "Aren't they just cute?"

You looked over, seeing the most beautiful woman that could've sat next to you. She looked at you at no response, smiling ever so gently towards you.

Her hand reached out as she spoke up again. "Sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Wanda. Wanda Maximoff, Tommy's and Billy's mom."

You almost forgot how to speak, but you managed to pull yourself together. "Y/n Y/l/n. Talia's mom."

"Right.. So the other woman is..?" She asked as she slightly narrowed her eyes in curiosity.

You chuckled softly as you knew she meant your sister. "If you mean the redhead, she's my sister. She has been taking care of Talia until recently."

Wanda hummed in acknowledgement. "Well, I'm glad to finally meet you Mrs L/n"

You shook your head. "Please, call me Y/n. I'm not married." Yeah it because you were widowed.

"Well in that case, call me Wanda." She was polite just like you hoped the boys parents would be.

Her eyes dropped to your hand that had a ring but decided against asking. She only just met you, yet the feeling of wanting to know everything about you lingered.

Before you could say anything, Talia rushed over with the boys. "Mommy! Mommy!"

You looked over to check for any injuries. "Yes, darling?"

"There is an ice cream truck. Can we get ice cream?" She begged with those little puppy eyes.

"Isn't it a little cold for ice cream?" You asked but you knew her response.

"Well, we can take them to Tommy's and Billy's house." She came right out with it, putting you in this position of not really know how to get out of it.

"I don't think we should barge into Wanda's house like that." You spoke softly to your daughter, dusting off some leaves that got stuck to her coat.

She pouted a little bit and so did the boys. Wanda jumped into rescue. "How about after school on Monday, we can have ice cream and we watch a movie?"

They beamed at Wanda's words, almost ecstatic at the idea. You smiled at Talia. Her little cute jumps at the thought of spending more time with the boys.

She turned to you as she hugged you. "You are the best mommy in the entire world."

Now you couldn't say no to her, besides this could be a good opportunity to get to know Wanda better. They all ran off to continue their little play date.

"So? are you going to come?" She asked, just to confirm that you were definitely coming.

"Yeah, I don't think I got much to do at the office anyway, so I am free." Your eyes met hers, there was a slight beam of joy at your words.

"Perfect, I will have everything prepared then." She said with a much more happier tone.

You looked at the time on your watch, seeing a message that popped up. You frowned slightly as you took your phone out. "Ah shit.."

You looked up at her, before standing up. Shoving the phone in your pocket. "Look, I hate to cut things short. But my sister doesn't have any transport back home, so I have to go get her."

Wanda smiled in understandment. "I get it, my brother does the same almost all the time."

The slight worry disappeared at her words. She wasn't mad, she was understanding you. She wasn't going to scold you for having to ran away, she was happy to even have met you.

"Thank you." You breathed out before turning and calling Talia over with the boys chasing after her.

"Look kid, we have to go, but we are going to Miss Wanda's house on Monday so you can play with the boys then." You explained, and even though she was a little sad.

Her little hand slipped into yours before she spoke up. "Thank you Miss Wanda for letting Billy and Tommy to play with me."

You watched Wanda's reaction and it almost made your heart beat out of your chest at it. She smiled widely at Talia. "That's alright, I'm glad Tommy and Billy have you as their friend. They only speak about you all the time."

You didn't even know she had such an impact on the boys lives. It was a moment like this that made you feel glad that you moved. Wanda looked up at you with a warm smile.

"Okay, we have to go before your aunt blows up my phone." You had to cut it short even if you didn't want to.

But before yous walked off, Billy and Tommy hugged Talia and muttered a see you soon. Letting her hand reunite with yours as you both made your way back to your car.

After finally finding your sister and coming back home a little while later. Getting to put Talia to sleep and having a breather with your sister.

She was sitting on the counter as she observed you. "So Talia told me about her little play date at the park today."

You hummed as you kept scrolling down your phone, hearing what she was saying yet not paying much attention. Before your sister made another comment.

"Meaning you had the chance to meet Wanda.." She stopped right at the end when your eyes met hers, in a curious look.

"Yeah, so what about it?" You asked, as you grabbed your cup of coffee that you have been sipping on for the past half an hour.

"Well?" She stopped as if you could read her mind on what she wanted you to say. She huffed. "Come on, you can’t tell me that this woman doesn’t have the looks of a goddess."

You rolled your eyes at her words and looked back at your phone again. This wasn’t the conversation you wanted to have.

"You would be crazy to not admit it Y/n." She spoke up again to get your attention.

"Yeah I can admit she’s pretty but you already know my opinion on this subject" You mumbled it out as you kept scrolling, not even paying attention to what you are suppose to be reading.

"Your opinion sucks, you have a chance to find yourself a new partner and you’re stuck with your way." She spoke up but before she could think twice on what she said.

Your eyes shot up at her. "What do you mean I’m stuck in my ways? Valkyrie is dead, Natasha. My wife is dead and I am simply still processing how to live without her."

She sighed at your words. "That’s not what I meant Y/n, I’m just worried about you. It’s been almost a decade…"

"Just leave me be Nat.." You said it without much effort to even wanting to start this discussion. You been avoiding talking about her death as much as you can.

"I'm sorry Y/n but you know it's something Val would've wanted. For you to move on with someone who can make you happier in those dark times." She spoke up before you could move a muscle to run away from this conversation.

"What about what I want? Do you think I wanted to raise a child on my own?" You asked, it was hard to deal with a lot of things. Realising how alone you are with everything was a big deal.

Natasha sighed as she hopped off and walked over to you. Hugging you because she knew how much you hated people looking at you when you were about to cry.

"You're not on your own. You have me. You have Yelena. Mom. You know they would jump at the opportunity to help you." She spoke softly as her hand softly rubbed your back.

You were grateful for all of this. Their constant support, the fact that Natasha was here with you. She contributed to rent and bills however she could.

You pulled away from her, sending a smile and a kiss on the cheek. Before deciding to go into your room. You were tired with everything and if you were honest you had a long week ahead of you.

As Monday rolled around, after school rolled in. Talia was excited for everything that was planned for her and the boys. As you walked over to Wanda's door, your phone rang.

Talia was already banging on the door whilst you answered the phone. Seeing how Wanda peaked out to see you on the phone, before letting your daughter in to see the boys.

You hanged up and with a sad smile, Wanda already knew. "Go, I will take care of her."

You wasn't sure how, but you thanked her before rushing over to the office. Some deadline was needed to be met today otherwise everything that was worked for was going to be trashed.

After long hours you finally managed to get home. You realised that you had Talia to pick up. So, you strolled out of your apartment as you quietly knocked on the smaller redheads door.

She opened the door with a robe around her body. Covering what you guessed was her nightgown. You kept your eyes on her face as a way to show your respect for her.

"Talia is asleep on the couch." She indicated as she let you in, watching as you looked for her little head.

"God, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to drop her on you. It was very last minute needed meeting." You apologised, being extremely tired.

She smiled at your words as she waved it off, and lead you towards her kitchen that was just in the corner. "Don't apologise. The kids had so much fun that it was literally no big deal."

You leaned on the counter with your hip as you watched her. "I own you one. Now I need to get her back into her bed before she wakes up."

She knew if she let you go now, it will be a while til she sees you again. "How about I make you a tea before you go?"

You agreed and the next half an hour, you both spent on finding out things about each other, whilst also exchanging numbers.

"I should head back." You looked down at your cup, that was empty now.

She hummed to acknowledge your words. "Wait, so what company do you work in?"

"Oh you know the main one in the city, the only one with the biggest logo across the building." You answered her back.

"Oh. Why didn't you say? I am the daughter of the owner." She told you, a little shocked at your words.

You raised your brows at her. "What? Really?"

She smirked slightly. "No, but I like that you believed me."

You rolled your eyes playfully, before placing the cup down the sink and making your way to Talia. She was sound asleep, hugging the pillow her head was almost falling from.

You lifted her up and held her close to you as she cuddled into you and slept like nothing. You walked over to the door that Wanda already had a little bit cracked opened.

"I will see you around." You whispered before leaving and making your way to your place. Placing her down in her bed before finally hitting your own pillow and passing out like a baby.

As months flew by, you had gotten closer to Wanda. She was really amazing. Always there whenever you had an issue. Last minute calls and she was always ready to help you out.

That's what you liked about her. There was a load of gratefulness when it came to her. No matter what, you owned her a lot.

Which is the reason why you decided to invite her to a little gathering your friends held. It just felt right to have Wanda come with you as your plus one.

Your sister encouraged you to ask her out and that's what you did. You asked and she agreed to accompany you to this gathering.

It was out of town but Wanda didn't mind. You both had a room secured in the guest room down the basement. There wasn't enough rooms for yous to have separate beds so yous had to make do.

Natasha was taking care of the boys whilst yous were drinking away any worries that were settling in your minds. Your friends were thrilled to see you with a new woman.

An arm candy as they called her. They complimented her left and right, showed respect and appreciation for being by you. Yet she was a little confused to what she was 'by you' for.

You never mentioned your late wife. There was just never the right time, but for your luck no one mentioned anything. You were drunk and so was Wanda.

She was laughing and if you weren't this drunk, you would notice how touchy she was with you. Every laugh that came out of her mouth, her hand would land on your arm.

Even your own hands had their own minds. Somehow finding their way to her lower back. Letting her know you were there. And your friends saw all of it.

Because out of everyone, you and her were the most shitfaced. They were so going to tease you about it later. As the party died down, you decided to go back into you room with Wanda.

Stealing a bottle of wine on the way there, the snickering from both of yous as you both tiptoed to the room down the hall. You opened the bottle and took a sip.

Passing it to Wanda before watching as she took a lot of sips. Letting out a laugh before closing the door. "Save me some."

She pulled her mouth away from the bottle, and it was in that moment where it clicked. Watching as a string of saliva stretched from between the tip of the bottle and her lips.

They looked so kissable. So, the only reasonable idea in this drunk state of mind was to kiss her. So you did. You grabbed her by her hips and pulled her in.

Drunk with Wanda. Your neighbour that was in your arms right now, dropped the bottle of wine onto the floor. The luck yous had was unimaginable. The bottle was a little bit more than half empty as you both hurried to take each other clothes off.

You never acted like this, ever. You were thrilled from knowing how to keep everything under control but this was way past your control. Way past your limit and in this very moment you loved it.

You loved the sounds that were coming out of Wanda’s mouth. The way her eyes sparked and her neediness was evidently marked on you.

You wasn’t sure if you would remember this but you hoped you would. Her skin was soft under your hand as you caressed her curves.

A soft moan left your mouth when her teeth buried themselves inside the side of your neck. Leaving a clear mark as day that she was branding you.

Two drunk adults making a choice that was going to affect yous in some sense. That's what you felt when you woke up in the morning.

Wanda's naked body pressed against you. Her face laying in the crook of your neck whilst she slept peacefully, and for your luck, you remembered every thing you said and did that lead to this.

But you couldn't help but feel safe. The way her soft hands laid on your body keeping you warm in the embrace. You wasn't sure what that meant for the both of you.

Whether this was just sex or this meant a serious commitment on your part. You just woke up after having drunk sex with your neighbour.

The voices outside your room woke Wanda up. But she didn't move, she stayed perfectly still, trying to process if this was real. "I know what you are thinking.."

That caused her to look up, not expecting you to be awake. "How did this happen?"

Her tone was wary of her words, zero movement in her body as she tried to piece last nights event. There was a slight pain appear in your eyes at her question.

"Party finished and we had that extra wine." You recalled the summed up version of last night.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment, not wanting to accept that this is how it has happened. It was like in an instant she remembered how your fingers felt inside her.

She blushed a deep red, causing you to blush as well knowing exactly what she was realising. She looked at you with a shy smile but it was quickly replaced with slight fear when one of your friends knocked and asked to come in.

Both of yous, butt naked holding each other as if yous had done it before. The rush to find clothes was a challenge. Almost tripping over the wine bottle as you chucked your t-shirt on with some shorts.

Opening the door only a little bit and telling them that you would be up in the kitchen soon. Giving yourself and Wanda time to properly get yourself ready and look a little less like mess.

You thought you were able to cover the tracks of any sex but your sister was quick to notice. She opened the door to you and Wanda. Her eyes narrowed at your expression.

You had a shy smile... Suspicious to Natasha. Your hand placement was on her waist... Suspicious to Natasha. But what tied it all together was the hug. The hug and the way Wanda had eyed you with hungry eyes as if she wanted more.

As soon as you pulled away from the hug, Natasha blurted out. "Oh my god? Yous had sex!"

The shock on your faces was priceless, making Wanda look away with more redder cheeks. Before you could say anything to defend yourself.

Billy, Tommy and Talia rushed in. All running to their parents, Talia being happy to see you. You kneeled down to her, placing a soft kiss on her cheek as a way to greet her.

Wanda did the same with her boys, she stood up with a smile at how good of a mother you were to Talia. "Well, I should go. I have to get these kids ready for school tomorrow."

They pouted but they actually liked that place. Talia was there and they got to learn new things. You stood up and opened the door to let them out.

You totally forgot about Natasha observing yous. Wanda's eyes stared back into yours when she turned around. You went for the hug, because for a strange reason you missed her.

You missed having her against you, and that felt so strange to you. "I'll see you around?"

She whispered into your ear the question, sending a certain shiver down your spine. "Definitely.." That's all you managed to get out before you would have to kiss her.

Finally she unglued herself from you. Natasha could tell that Wanda's feelings for you were clear as day. She knew because the way those eyes only had that shine for you.

She cleared her throat, pulling both of your attention. Seeing how Talia and Natasha both had their arms crossed with small smiles. "Right."

You looked back as you shook your head, causing the redhead to let out a soft chuckle. She smiled before turning away and leaving with the boys.

You closed the door and was met with Natasha's smirk. You sighed as you walked over to her. "Do not speak."

She put her hands up in the air but you knew this wouldn't be the end of it. As you caught up with Talia throughout the day and put her to bed.

The second you sat down, Natasha joined you as she waited but seeing how you wasn't speaking, she did it for you. "Okay, what happened?"

You raised your brow at her. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes. "Y/n, I'm not sure when we have gotten so distant but I just want you to rant your feelings out. Tell me what you are feeling and I might be able to help."

You sighed as you leaned on your hand, looking at Natasha. Debating on telling her what's going on in your head right now. "We were drunk."

You saw that she wasn't going to judge you. "I had too much and I went way over my limit. As soon as we gotten to the room. We both just lost it and it happened."

"How does it make you feel?" She asked, her tone was slightly worried. It's not like you never hooked up with women before. But she knew you never had any feelings for them.

You covered your face with your hands. "I don't really know... This one just feels different. It is different because I can't forget it."

You looked at Natasha, your brows narrowed in a worried expression. "I am scared. What if it will feel like I am replacing her? It would ruin everything and Wanda is amazing.. I don't want to hurt her."

Natasha could see how genuine you were. "Look, I can't tell you how to think or to feel but follow your heart. If you feel like giving this a chance then do it. I know what happened with Val was horrible but you can't just cross every potential relationship and tag it with disaster."

You knew she was right, her hand slipped into yours, giving it a tight squeeze. "You won't know what this has in store for you until you have tried it. So, let me take Talia away for the break to mom, and you can sort yourself out with the redhead."

You moved, pulling your sister into a tight embrace. You were always afraid of opening up, because the reaction of that person was more terrifying than actually speaking.

"Okay." You agreed and felt how Natasha's hand was rubbing your back. You relaxed into the hug as you smiled to yourself slightly.

"You don't have to make a decision now. Get to know her more, spend time with her and see if she is actually someone, who could mean the world to you." Natasha advised and you knew she was right.

She was there throughout the whole grieving stages. Anger denial sadness. She was there. Holding your hand and making sure you didn't do anything stupid.

Just like that night. Weeks went by and that was weeks until the break. You were busy ever since you came back and had minimal contact with Wanda.

You denied it whenever you were asked but you were avoiding her at first. Work was demanding as it was closer to the kids break. They wanted everything done, especially since you took those days off that Talia was going to be away.

What made it all real to you, was that Talia noticed Wanda's absence. She noticed that you were sadder. Once playing and having you sit by her watching her.

A question lingered around her head, she turned to you and slightly smiled. Doll in her hand as she faced her body towards you. "Mom.."

You hummed to acknowledge her, she sighed as she looked down at her doll. "Is Wanda coming back or not, like mommy?"

This made you freeze. It was hard to explain to a young child that their other parent isn't going to come back. You grabbed her hand and gestured for her to sit on your lap to which she did.

Playing with her dolls hair, whilst you played with hers. "Wanda...is busy right now and so am I. That's why auntie Natasha is taking you over there for play dates"

Lies. You just were too much of a cowards to do it yourself and speak to Wanda about the two of you. She nodded at your words, looking up at you with those little eyes. "Is she going to replace mommy?"

It almost made you cry, but instead you gave her a small sad smile and shook your head to her question. "Never, no one cold replace mommy. She will always have a special place in your heart."

Your finger lightly touched her chest where her heart was. "You can have more than one mom, each will have a different role to play in your life. Mommy's role finished and when you are older I will tell you everything but right now, enjoy being a kid."

She smiled widely, understanding whatever she could from your words. Hugged you tightly before dropping to her feet and rushing over to her other toys that she swapped with Tommy and Billy for the time being.

Seemingly, Natasha found out that the boys were going to be away with their dad and that side of their family for the time being, and that made you ever more nervous.

Alone, alone with Wanda. The woman who you could still hear moaning your name from that night. You were a real life mess, not knowing how to approach this subject.

Not knowing how to deal with it and you choose to avoid it. You choose to bury yourself into work and ignore that poor woman who was slowly falling for you.

But you had no where out when everything quiet down. When it was just you in the apartment. The silence filling the rooms all around you and the heartbeat of your own anxiety could be heard.

You finally got the balls to do something about it. So, with a deep breath. You closed your door and walked over to Wanda's door.

Taking a deep breath and knocking on the door. The door opened and you were greeted by a tall-ish blonde man. His brow furrowed in confusion at your sight.

"Who are you?" He asked, knowing Wanda never mentioned visitors.

"I'm-" Who were you? The words that wanted to come out were girlfriend but you stopped yourself. "I'm Wanda's neighbour."

Still, that didn't clear things up. "I gathered that, I meant who are you to her?"

"Im.. I'm not sure.." You wanted to give him an answer, which made him frown in confusion.

"Then why you knocking on my sisters door?" He asked, being just protective on his sister. But to you it was a relief it wasn't someone she could be dating.

That's when the green eyed redhead appeared. Standing by his side with an emotionless look. "Oh.. What do you want?"

It did hurt you with the way her tone was directed towards you. You smiled sheepishly. "I came to talk to you."

She crossed her arms, and her brother followed. Both staring you down like some sort of burglar. "Talk then."

"I.. I um. I was hoping it would be the two of us.." You stuttered at first, being caught off guard at how cold she was.

She looked at the blond next to her. She nodded her head and he sent her a smile. "Okay, I will take the boys and head to Vision. He was been wanting to have the boys over for a while."

They both hugged and as you were invited to the kitchen. There you stood, waiting for Pietro and the boys to leave you and Wanda alone. You could feel your heart rate pick up at that thought.

Finally, when it was quiet. Wanda walked in, standing by the door with her arms crossed. As she waited without saying anything. "Okay.. Now that we are alone, I wanted to apologise to you for ignoring you. I promise it was unintentional, work was busy and Talia was getting weirdly sick."

"That doesn't make up for leaving me without any answers or even a short text that you were busy, Y/n" She interjected before you could give any more excuses.

"I'm sorry for that.." You apologised again, hearing a light scoff came out of Wanda's mouth. "Look, you don't understand Wands.."

She narrowed her eyes at you, feeling annoyed now by the way you are dismissing this. "Then make me understand. How can I understand and be there for you if you're not telling me anything."

She was right, but before you could open your mouth. She spoke up again. "What I understand is, we had sex and now you're ghosting me."

How could you forget about that night.. There just was no way, the images that kept you up at night. No amount of self pleasure could make you feel the way she made you feel.

"I know what happened between us-" You started but she interrupted you again.

"Oh do you? Because it seems like you have been avoiding even talking to me about it. I deserve at least a rejection if that's something you didn't want to do."

You sighed, again she was right. Of course she was right and her feelings right now were valid. She was upset and rightfully so. You were a coward, who is really close to losing that girl.

"My wife dead almost 8 years ago." You said out of the blue, causing the words in Wanda's throat to halt. She wasn't expecting that and that was a big shocker to her.

"I moved here to get away from the constant memory of her. Not running away because I dealt with grief and all of those stages. I just needed a fresh start."

"But I guess I didn't expect it to happen so fast. Because I met you, and everything thought I tried to keep away was slowly coming to me." You explained and the redhead for at least once listening.

You looked down at your finger, where that ring used to be. You took it off after knowing what you felt for Wanda. "I am scared, Wanda."

You looked up at her, seeing how her brows were now expressing the sadness. "I am scared to love you. I am scared that if I fall for you, the same fate will happen to me. I just dont want a heartbreak."

Maybe it was selfish of you to only think of your emotions. To worry about your issues and put Wanda in that position but that was a human response to life time of trauma.

"I'm sorry I put you through that worry. I didn't know how to tell you that I was broken, some people aren't in the habit to fix others. I just assumed if you found out, you would leave. Like everyone else." Your body was leaning on the counter, your head hanging low as words spilled from your mouth.

Wanda approached you slowly. Taking your face into her hands as she made you look. Slowly and carefully pulled you into a soft kiss. Making sure you knew you could pull away at any given moment.

Not that you wanted to. You liked the way her lips felt, you couldn't stop thinking about them ever since they brushed against yours. Your hands automatically moved to her hips. Moving your legs apart to pull Wanda in.

It was strange to you. To someone who was afraid of falling in love or doing anything that involved feelings. It was strange to you how Wanda reacted. How her thumbs stroke your cheeks whilst her lips were against yours.

She pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes but her hands stayed on your cheeks. Your eyes searched hers in slight confusion. "Why did you kiss me?"

The whisper that came out of your mouth, like if what you said didn't deserve a comforting. It broke Wanda's heart, she knew the moment her eyes laid on you there was something about you that pulled her in.

"Do I need a reason?" She asked, not really knowing how to word her emotions to you.

"Usually no, but in this case kind of.." You wanted to know, was it pity? Was it because she felt the same. Was it because it felt like it was the right thing to do in that moment?

"You just spilled your heart out to me. I wanted to kiss you not only because I never met anyone as incredible as you. But because in some sense I feel the same as you." She found the best words to describe what was in her heart.

"I am sorry Wanda. I'm good at anything else but trying to confront anyone with my feelings." Even if you were slightly cold towards Natasha whenever it came to a love interest. It was only a precaution.

She smiled as she pulled you into a hug this time. "I wish you came to me but I'm glad you did now."

You buried your face in the crook of her neck. Closing your eyes and taking in her scent along with how calming her breathing was. "You know.. I think I am falling for you..."

The tone that her words came out of her mouth sounded worrying. Like if she would spook you if it was said with more confidence. You didn't want to move from this calming position but at those words you did.

Your hands were on her lower back, aching to be underneath her t-shirt that she was wearing. But before you could say anything, she shook her head. "No. I don't think. I know I am."

Your stomach was doing somersaults and your heart was beating out of your chest at her words. She was in love with you, she fell for you the way you fell for her.

You couldn't contain yourself anymore. Hands slipping past her t-shirt and kissing her like there was no tomorrow. One of her hands moving to your hair, pulling on it slightly when you picked her up and placed her on the counter.

Her legs wrapped around your waist to keep you in place, no thought in her brain until her brows furrowed in worry. Pushing you away gently to look into your eyes.

"Are you- Do you feel the same? I know you said you were scared but I can't sleep with you until I know, otherwise it will feel one sided." She was out of breath and so were you but her flashed cheeks and those dilated pupils made your heart flutter in that tooth rotting love feeling.

You nodded at her question and leaned back in, but she stopped you again. Causing you to frown slightly at the gesture. "I need you to say it, Y/n... I need it."

"I am falling for you and I don't think I can stop myself. Even if I am scared to death about this. I don't want to stop myself if it's you that my heart beats for you again." Those words that spilled out of your mouth did something to Wanda.

She felt herself getting turned on in everyday. She wanted you, she needed you to feel complete right now. She wanted to feel how much you meant to her.

She almost just moaned at hearing those words. Feeling that aching feeling between her legs. If she could she would've thrown herself at you in that moment.

She felt everything at once and now she couldn't stop herself. Her hands on either side of your face. One sliding down to your neck giving it a light squeeze before pulling you in for a desperate kiss.

One kiss that was full of pure need. Pure love that you both wanted to share with each other. One that couldn't be held back. Her tongue forcing itself down your mouth but it wouldn't be much force since you were welcoming.

Maybe to some it was kind of weird how confessing something like that was a turn on. But it was more than just sex. It was making love to each other. Feeling her body burn up against yours and your movements.

She was happy and so were you. After so long you deserved this. She deserves this after her own tragic story. She needed you as much as you needed her.

⸻⸻⋙ᗢ⋘⸻⸻

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i-am-baechu · 9 months

Text

Chapter Two

Wishes (M) (Season One)

Summary: After a long day of classes, Min Yoongi decides to take a break at the music hall that has become his second home. He walks in with his cigarette lit and his blank expression quickly changes when he sees a girl playing his piano. The moment their eyes meet, their lives become complicated and Yoongi blames himself for her future pain. Was the love we had honest?

Genre: Gang au!, college au!, strangers to enemies (one-sided), strangers to lovers, slow burn, friendships, romance, angst, little comedy, and smut

Main pairing: Gang leader! Min Yoongi x Pianist! Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, smut, mature themes, gangs, violence, smoking cigarettes, drugs, and alcohol usage

Warnings for this chapter: Murder

⇜ Masterlist ⇝

L/N Y/N loved the morning sky. It was a pretty color palette and she sometimes wished that she had the colors archived when she painted. The mornings reminded her of new beginnings like the stories her dad used to tell her when she was younger, hopeful. She continued to stare outside her window with a soft smile until the door opened. She slowly turned her head and smiled when she saw her maid, Sua.

“Good morning, Sua. Did you sleep well?”

Sua set the tray on her table and gave her a smile, “Yes I did. It was rather warm last night.”

“It was but at least it wasn’t cold. Dad hates the cold.”

Sua let out a small laugh as she poured the tea into her cup, “Which means you hate it as well?”

“Yes. Are you going to eat with me?”

“Sadly not today. I have to tend to your mother, she needs help with the party coming up.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and shook her head, “I hate those parties. Mom always tries to set me up with someone.”

“I’m sure she means well, Y/N.”

“I know she does but I don’t like those people.”

“And what do you like?”

Y/N glanced down at the cup and then back at Sua, “I’m not sure.”

“I’m sure you will figure it out. I’ll see you after classes.”

“Bye Sua.”

She watched Sua leave and she was left alone in her room. Y/N is the only child of William and Arabella Lynn L/N. Two powerful Ceos in business and devoted parents. They loved Y/N with their whole hearts but they could be overprotective at times. They would invest in anything Y/N was interested in. When she was five, she was interested in coloring, so they built her a wing where she could learn how to paint. When she was seven, she was interested in music and dance, so they signed her up with the best teachers. That’s how she became the number one pianist in her division. Being twenty-two, she accomplished a lot.

She loved her parents but she didn’t want to rely on them forever. When she turned eighteen she started working in a restaurant, her parents disagreed with this but she continued. She also got a side job as data analytics for a bank, something her parents didn’t know about (if they did, they would probably have a heart attack). Everyone at her school thought she was weird for wanting to work when she had the richest parents in the school, they wouldn’t understand. She finished her tea and glanced outside with a smile, the sun looked pretty today.

She changed into her uniform putting her hair in a ponytail. She headed downstairs to see her parents sitting on their couch watching the news. She smiled at them and gently waved at them, “Good morning.”

Her dad looked over and smiled at her, “My flower, did you sleep well?”

“I did, why aren’t you at work?”

Her mom let out a small laugh and kissed her dad’s cheek, “We wanted to go in late, breakfast date.”

“That sounds fun, I’ll be heading to school.”

“Be safe!”

“I will!”

She walked on the paveway, saying good morning to all the gardeners and the other workers. They loved working for the L/N family, they treated them so kindly and sometimes they don’t even feel like workers. She went through the gate and went towards the camera to give one final goodbye to her staff and parents.

School was a weird subject to her. She had friends and all the teachers loved her but she still felt like an outcast. She didn’t know how to explain it. No one bullied her but she did know people talked about her, it was something she couldn’t stop. It was just human nature. Her best friend, Nam Dawon, was the same as her. Both parents are powerful Ceos but never let their titles get to her head. She was more on the quiet side, which is why they get along so well. Y/N was more outgoing and “troublesome” (that’s what Dawon called her).

She walked through the gates and ran towards Dawon with a wide smile, “Good morning~.”

Dawon smiled at her and wiped her hands on her skirt, “Good morning, you're late by the way.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and shrugged her shoulders, “The bell didn’t ring so, we're fine.”

“That’s not the point...how was your piano practice yesterday?”

The two girls walked inside the building as the chatter from everyone filled her head. She looked at Dawon with a small smirk, “It was...fun.”

“Fun? How so?”

“I guess the better word would be unpredictable.”

“Y/N, just tell me.”

Y/N let out a small laugh and shook her head. She wrapped her arm around Dawon’s, “There was a guy...he was interesting.”

“Really? What was he like?”

“Unpredictable...” And that scares me but it intrigues me...annoying really.

They walked up the stairs but were stopped when Choi Jessica looked at them with wide eyes and panting, “Did you guys hear?”

Y/N glanced at Dawon and back at Jessica with a confused look, “No?”

“There was another murder by Heliotropes.”

Y/N’s eyes widened and looked at Dawon, “Joo Won didn’t tell me anything...I was just there last night.”

“He doesn’t always tell you everything, Y/N. Do you think it has something to do with gangs?”

Jessica gasped at this and hugged herself, “Gangs? Those low lives only want to cause more misery because they think it’s fun. All of them should be in jail.”

Y/N's mouth formed a straight line and glanced at Dawon, “We should get to class…”

Dawon nodded her head and gave Jessica a small smile, “Bye.”

The two walked off before she could say anything more. There have been more deaths happening but this time it was different. It was at a place she frequently visited. She had to call Joo Won to make sure everything was okay or at least hear him lie that it was okay. Anything to decipher murder in some way.

When they entered the classroom, everyone was talking about the murder. It wasn’t uncommon to hear people talk about gang violence but having it near the school was new. It was an uneasy feeling. Class went by slowly and the only thing that was on Y/N’s mind was figuring out Yoongi (she didn’t want to think about the murder anymore). It’s been a couple of days since she saw him well, it’s been a couple of days since she went to the music hall. She’s been busy with her mother’s upcoming party to play the piano but today she wanted to go. A small part of her wanted to see Yoongi but another part of her didn’t really care. In all honesty, she was indifferent toward the cold smoker. He didn’t annoy nor did he make her happy, he was just there.

As she gathered her things, she quickly made her way out of the school. Waving toward Dawon and other classmates before entering the community college campus. No one paid attention to her and she liked that. She looked around the busy campus and saw everyone talking to each other, it didn’t feel like there was pressure.

She opened the music hall doors and smiled when she saw it empty. She quickly made her way down to the instrument with a soft smile. She gently touched the dark wood and opened it, revealing the ebony keys to her. She barely touched the keys before she sat on the stool. Her black skirt covered her thighs as placed the headphones in her ears. Her fingers started playing on their own. She wasn’t sure what the melody was but she liked it.

She was focused but she wasn’t that focused because the smell of smoke hit her nose. She stopped playing and turned around to see a new (handsome) face. She gave him a small smile, “Do you want to play?”

The guy let out a puff of smoke and shook his head, “No, I was just curious. The melody, it’s missing something.”

She glanced at the keys and then back at him with her head tilted, “What do you think is missing?”

“Happiness? It just sounds Melancholy.”

“Really? I thought it sounded...happy.”

The guy let out a small chuckle and shook his head, “If that’s happiness to you then I would be scared to hear your version of sadness.”

“People have their own definitions of the words, it’s not always black and white.”

“Then maybe you should learn what happiness is.”

She gave him a small glare and turned her back to him, “I think you should be kinder to strangers. You can’t just assume things.”

“Your piano playing tells me otherwise. Bye, Y/N.”

Her eyes widened at this and turned back to the stranger, “How do you know my name?”

“You capture someone’s attention. I wanted to see for myself.”

She scoffed at this and stood up from the stool to glare at him, “Who the hell is this someone?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“That’s why I asked. Who is this someone?”

“He’s right, you're feisty.”

“I’ll show you feisty-”

“Taehyung, what the hell are you doing here?” She turned her head at the new (familiar) voice. Yoongi stood there with his black leather jacket being highlighted under the lights and his long black hair framing his face perfectly. She scoffed and looked between “Taehyung” and Yoongi, “Should’ve known.”

Yoongi raised his eyebrow at this as he made his way towards “Taehyung”, “Known what Bambi?”

She went back to the piano with her back towards them, “That you know each other. Tyrants know each other.”

“The fuck is she talking about?”

“She's calling us tyrants because we smoke in the music hall. Keep up. Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

She heard footsteps and she smiled to herself. With the door closing, she started to play the piano but this time without her headphones. She continued to play until she felt a presence next to her. She looked up as her fingers continued playing, “Can I help you?”

“I want to play.”

“Well, I’m playing right now-”

“I want to play with you.”

She stopped playing and looked at Yoongi with a raised eyebrow, “You want to play with me at the same time?”

“That’s what I said. Unless you think your better than-”

“I never said that so don’t put words into my mouth. Sit.”

She moved a bit and ignored the scoffing. When he sat next to her she glanced at him, “What do you want to play?”

“Don’t you usually compose your own music?”

“I do but that wouldn’t be fair for me to do that to you. I can’t expect someone to follow me when they don’t even know my next move. It’s not fair.”

He nodded his head and looked down at the keys, “We can do Mozart.”

“I don’t have a problem with that...Why did you want to play with me? You don’t seem the type.”

He scoffed and looked at her with a raised eyebrow, “What does that mean?”

“Your vibe just tells me you want to do things your way. That’s all. Not bad.”

Nothing was said after that because Yoongi started playing without her. She rolled her eyes and started to follow. It was clear to her that Yoongi was a trained pianist. She was kind of shocked that he was playing with ease. The two continued to play and she glanced at his face to see his eyebrows furrowed. He was concentrating hard on the keys. When the song ended, she clapped her hands together, “That was fun.”

“You kept up.”

“You didn’t think I would?”

“No, but you were shocked that I kept up.”

She glanced at him and nodded her head, “I would be lying if I said no. Obviously, you play piano but I didn’t know the skill level. Did you ever go to school for it?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and took out a cigarette, “I didn’t have time for that. I just learned whenever I had the time.”

“You're very talented.”

“I know.”

She let out a small laugh when she felt her phone buzz in her skirt pocket. She took her phone out and saw her mom was calling her. She sighed and looked at Yoongi, “I have to go.”

“Let me walk you.”

She shook her head and glanced at the cigarette, “No because you're going to smoke. I don’t want to smell like smoke.”

He rolled his eyes and placed his cigarette back into the box, “Is that okay, Bambi?”

“Yes...are you really going to walk me?”

“Yes.”

She let out a small sigh and decided not to argue with him. She picked up her backpack and glanced at him, “Can I stop by a store?”

“You're not a prisoner.”

“I beg to differ.”

The two left the music hall and she felt eyes on her. It was probably because of Yoongi. She overheard people talk about Yoongi and it seems like he's a loner. He had a set friend group and he didn’t bother to change it until now. She wondered why he was talking to her, she didn’t mind it but it did give her second thoughts on his intentions. She walked into a liquor store as Yoongi followed her closely. She went towards the drinks and turned towards him, “Are you going to pick a drink?”

“Why would I?”

“Because I want you to have a drink?”

He glanced at the drinks and then back at her, “So the rich girl is going to pay for me.”

She scoffed at this and picked up her tea, “Don’t call me that. You know I have a name.”

“Fine, Bambi.” He opened another section and took whiskey out of the cold. She glanced at the drink and then at him with a raised eyebrow, “You getting whiskey? It’s only four in the afternoon.”

“Bambi you said pick a drink, you never said I couldn’t get alcohol.”

“I guess...”

She walked towards the cashier and went to take out her wallet. She stopped when the cashier looked at her with a nervous look, “You don’t have to pay.”

She furrowed her eyebrows at this and tilted her head, “I have alcohol...you need to see my ID..”

She watched the cashier glance at Yoongi and then back at her with a nervous look, “It’s covered. Don’t worry.”

She looked at Yoongi with a confused look, “Is this-”

“It’s fine, Y/N. Let’s go.”

She nodded her head but before she left, she took out 50,000 KRW and slid it to him. She gave him a small smile and bowed her head at him, “Have a good day.”

Yoongi grabbed her wrist and left the store without saying anything. They went to a bench and she sat down next to him. She watched him take a drink and she tilted her head at him. He glanced at her and looked at her drink, “You like lemon tea?”

“I do. You like whiskey.”

He let out a small chuckle and nodded his head, “I do. Want a drink?”

“Sure.” She took the bottle and took a small sip of the dark liquid. She frowned at it and gave it back to him, “It’s not bad but it’s not good.”

“Do you drink alcohol?”

“Sometimes. It’s not a common thing in my day-to-day life.”

“What do you drink then, Bambi?”

She rolled her eyes and let a small smirk appear, “I like tequila...wine...nothing else comes to mind.” That was a lie. She would drink almost anything at the parties that her mother threw. Anything to distract her from the men there.

“Interesting. Don’t you have to get going?”

“I do...but I can stay a little longer.”

He took another sip and raised his eyebrow at her, “You don’t follow orders, do you?”

“I already told my mom I was finishing off my piece. She understands.” He leaned back into the bench and she followed his lead. She opened her tea and took a small sip. She felt his eyes on her and she glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, “You look like you have a question.”

“What are you majoring in?”

“Music and programming.”

He nodded his head and looked her up and down, “Smart.”

“What about you, Yoongi?”

“Business.”

She smiled at this and nodded her head, “I can see you as a Ceo.”

“Why is that, Bambi?”

“You just have this aura for it.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“It is, don’t worry.”

They both stared at each other and she looked into his dark eyes. Normally you would see something from a person rather it be happy or sad but she couldn’t tell with him. His eyes were a mystery to her but she knew some mysteries were left unsolved. She was the one that broke the stare and stood up to throw her can away. She glanced over her shoulders and looked at him, “Are you ready?”

“I am, Bambi.”

The two walked in silence but it made Y/N think more. If Yoongi was an outcast at his school, why was he interacting with her? He was weird and she didn’t know if he was a good weird or a bad weird yet. He was just weird to her for now. They stopped in front of her gate and she turned towards him, “Thank you...again.”

“I wouldn’t want you to walk alone at night. It’s dangerous.”

“I think everyone knows that...I’m assuming you heard about the murder.”

He let out a deep sigh and looked away from her, “I did...”

She nodded her head and pushed the button to go in, “I’ll see you when I see you.”

“Yeah, Bambi.”

She gave him a small wave and walked through her gates. As she made her through her garden she felt his eyes on her. She stopped herself from looking at him and shook her head to continue looking forward. There was something about Yoongi but she just couldn’t figure it out...she also didn’t know if she wanted to figure it out.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“Oppa?” Y/N pushed the door slowly and looked around the empty restaurant with a frown. It was quiet and that was strange. It was a Saturday afternoon meaning the restaurant should be loud with plates clattering and the talks of someone's ex-boyfriend echoing in the room. Something was wrong. Y/N placed her bags on a table and walked towards the stairs to Joo Won’s apartment. With each step she took, the wood would cry in agony and it wasn’t comforting her. She gently knocked on the door, “Oppa?”

The door opened and she was looking in familiar dark brown eyes, “Yoongi? What are you doing here?”

“Bambi? What are you doing here?”

She tried looking past Yoongi’s shoulder but he blocked her view with the door. She looked at him with a confused look, “I’m here to see oppa...now answer my question, what are you doing here?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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latenightdislyte · 2 years

Note

Hello!!

Can I request narmer x reader fluff story please??🥺🙏🏼

I was thinking about reader being zelmer's teacher who teach her lots of things. After a while, reader finally meet narmer and narmer ask her to be his partner in some private party!

(I feel flustered while thinking about it)

I hope you have a nice day!! :)

Blegh, I got sick the day we went down to meet up with family for pictures. It's been three days. Help.

My mind is a bit muddled from being sick so if this isn't what you were expected, I apologize. I'll have to go over it at a latter date when I'm better with a clearer head.

Anyways, enjoy!

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

I stared down at my phone in contemplation. I had received an email from one of my students' parents, Zelmers to be exact. It asked in such a well mannered and formal way if I could keep the little girl after class for a bit longer, saying that something had come up with his work and didn’t want her to be home by herself. I was a bit hesitant, but it didn’t sound like there was much choice in the matter. I anxiously replied, wondering if it would be fine to bring the girl home with me, seeing as how he would be out for an unforeseeable amount of time, and I could bring her by after he had returned.

The bell rang the moment I sent the email, indicating that lunch was over and that the kids would be returning. I closed down my phone for the moment and brought up my lesson plans on my laptop, preparing for the next subject.

~~~~~~~~~~~Time Skip~~~~~~~~~~

There were fifteen minutes left in class, I told the kids that they could talk quietly amongst themselves or read. Their choice. I opened my email seeing a notification. He believed he had a better solution, for me to accompany Zelmer to their home and stay there and watch her until he returned. I didn’t know how to respond. There was little time to think of something else or wait for a response from him to see if he agreed or disagreed with the new proposition. I have little choice in the matter now.

The bell rang to dismiss class. “Everyone have a nice day. Don’t forget your homework and supplies for our upcoming project. Zelmer, sweetie, could you wait here for a moment? Your father has asked me to do him a favor.” “Ok!” The young girl hopped over to my desk and waited. “He emailed me earlier and told me that he was going to be at work late and asked that I take you back to your place and keep you company there until he returns.” The little girl's eyes lit up in joy. “Really! Yay! Daddy sometimes comes home really late and I’m left with the maid. She’s nice, but she’s almost always busy and can’t play with me.” My heart broke a little for the kid. “Just wait here a moment and we can go, ok?” I collected some papers and my planner, setting them on my laptop before putting it all in my bag. I held my hand out to Zelmer for her to take and we headed out, locking up my classroom. “Alright Zelmer, lead the way.”

Zelmer happily led me down the road, jumping around and going on and on about the things she wanted to do when we reached our destination: show me around the house, show me her room and toys, and play games. I knew I needed to get some of these papers graded, but I wanted to keep her company and pay attention to her as well. Maybe I could distract her with a movie or show for a little bit, at least long enough to get some work done. I’d at least let her get wanting to show me around out of her system first. “We’re here! We’re Here! Come on!” She ran ahead a couple houses and started jumping up and down waving her arms in front of one.

I hadn’t realized how far we had walked or where we were, more concerned about keeping an eye on Zelmer as she happily ran around me, but looking around now I found that we had walked all the way to the upscale side of town. Fancy cars, beautiful gardens and large, multi-storied houses lined the streets making me immediately uncomfortable, not belonging in such a place what-so-ever. Zelmer on the other hand seemed completely comfortable and ran up to the front door of the house she had been jumping in front of, digging around and pulling out a set of keys from her backpack.

I hesitantly followed after her as she unlocked the door and swung it open, dropping her bag along the wall next to the door and running into the next room. I shut the door behind me and looked around the foyer for a moment. An extremely fancy light fixture hung from the high ceiling, a set of stairs curved up along the wall across from the front door, under them the threshold leading to the room Zelmer had ran into, obviously the living room as a flat screen mounted over a fireplace was clearly visible over the back of the couch.

The tv clicked on and I could hear the young girl shout for me to hurry up. She sat on the ground next to the coffee table and had a few coloring books open on it. They weren’t normal kids coloring books, they were the ones with the intricate and beautiful designs, more specifically based on history and mythology, deities and mythical creatures and such. Zelmer patted the ground next to her and moved one of the books over. “Come sit over here, I have a coloring book for you and you can use my colored pencils. I’m gonna work on this one.” I sat down and looked to see what was playing on the tv. Looked like some animal documentaries. “Dad says I need to watch at least three documentaries a day. Doesn’t matter what they’re about, just as long as they’re not about things like aliens or mermaids and such.” I shrugged. “That doesn’t sound too bad, documentaries can be pretty cool to watch every now and then.” She shrugged as well, making a face, and returned to her coloring.

Time went by as we watched documentaries and colored. At some point I was able to pull her away from coloring and help her with her homework, finishing the third documentary half way through. The sound of the front door opening alerted us to Zelmers dad's arrival. “Zelmer, I’m home!” The girl quickly got up and ran to the front door, greeting him joyously. I looked at my phone and saw that two, almost three, hours had already passed.

I began gathering my things and pushed myself up, brushing myself off and straightening my outfit. “Ah, you must be Zelmers' teacher. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you in person. I’m Narmer.” I looked up and was awestruck by the man standing at the entrance of the room. I had never met him in person before, he was usually super busy when it came time for parent teacher meetings and such, and was stunned. He was absolutely stunning, a very well dressed esper with an air of elegance and power, a commanding and intimidating presence. He held out his hand as if to shake mine. “O-oh yeah, It’s nice to meet you too.” I took it, only to bush and become a bit bashful as he brought my hand up and kissed my knuckles.

“I thank you for taking time out of your day to keep my little Zelmer company while I took care of some business. I usually try to get through with my work so I can meet her at the entrance of the school, but this couldn’t be avoided.” He slowly dropped my hand and I pulled it back to nervously hold the strap of my bag. “Oh, it’s no problem! I enjoyed spending time with her. She’s very well disciplined and behaved compared to most others her age.” He smiled proudly. “I’m glad that’s the case. I’ve done my best to raise her properly after finding her, but I’ve always worried about her, being adopted can be hard for some kids and I’ve never known the truth to her situation. Although, I can’t take all of the credit. I’ve heard that you have been teaching basic manners and common courtesy to the students on top of their normal subjects. You have my gratitude for aiding me in this way.” He had strolled over to the kitchen bar as he spoke, pouring himself a glass of some expensive looking wine.

He approached me, glass now in hand. “If I’m to be honest with myself, it’s a shame I haven’t gotten to meet you sooner. You’re quite a beautiful young lady, it’s an honor to set eyes on someone so… ” Narmer gently gripped my chin between his thumb and index finger and tilted my head up to meet his eyes. “-gorgeous.” To say I was speechless would be an understatement, my face was probably flushed a concerning amount by now. “I have an event coming up, a… formal, private affair. Bringing a guest is optional, but I feel that having someone as gorgeous as you by my side would be quite pleasant and make the event more enjoyable. If you would be so gracious to accept my invitation, of course.” I didn’t know what to say. It was an honor to be invited to such an important event by a man of his standing, but I felt that this was way out of my league, I’m just a teacher and had never even met this man before now.

“I-I don’t know. I’ve never been good with social events. Besides, I don’t even have anything fancy to wear to such an ordeal.” He chuckled. “That won’t be much of an issue, I can get an outfit suited for you no problem, as for socializing, there won’t be much need for that. Attending this is more of an obligation for me than a pleasure so I won’t be doing too much of that myself, in fact I’d like to take the opportunity to get to know you better.” I thought for a moment, I guess there would be no harm in trying this just once. “Well… I guess I can give it a shot. I’m not one for formal events, but attending one can’t be that bad.” “Perfect!” He turned and pulled me over into the kitchen with him.

Narmer pulled out a card from a drawer and wrote on the back of it before handing it to me. “Meet me here at noon on Saturday. We can grab some lunch and go pick out something for you to wear after. The event itself is on Sunday. Zelmer has private lessons on the weekend so she will be looked after while we’re out.” He held my hand again and bowed his head down, kissing my knuckles once more. “I’m actually looking forward to this now that I have someone to accompany me. Thank you for gracing me with this opportunity.” Honestly, this man was almost too much for me to handle. Too prim and proper. Too formal and fancy. But, I would feel bad declining his offer. If it didn’t go well and I was too uncomfortable I would tell him so. “It’s no problem. Really. I think it would be nice to get to know you better as well. I look forward to it.”

He led me to the front door and we talked a bit more before bidding our farewells and parting. I felt giddy the whole way home, clutching the card he had given me in my hands, reading what he had written on the back, his number and the time of our meet up. I couldn’t help the nervous smile that made its way on my face. Excited yet anxious for what was to come.

#dislyte writing #dislyte #dislyte x reader #dislyte fanfiction #sfw #dislyte blog #narmer x reader #narmer dislyte

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halothenthehorns · 1 year

Text

Chapter 2: THE VICE PRINCIPAL GETS A MISSILE LAUNCHER

"I don't think now is the time to discuss politics on how we feel about teachers with guns," Magnus said drolly.

"That's one hell of a sign on bonus," Thalia gave a nervous chuckle. She knew no amount of joking in the world would save Percy from the explosion of pain his memory hadn't retained, but she still felt the need to try as he read the chapter title and closed his eyes, as if his mind was already trying to block him from what he knew was soon coming before he cleared his throat and started.

I didn't know what kind of monster Dr. Thorn was, but he was fast.

Maybe I could defend myself if I could get my shield activated. All that it would take was a touch of my wrist-watch. But defending the di Angelo kids was another matter. I needed help, and there was only one way I could think to get it.

I closed my eyes.

"I doubt the whole 'if you can't see me I can't see you thing' works on monsters," Magnus told him.

"Just keeping all my options open," Percy rolled his eyes, even smiling a bit as for once he knew what was going on before them!

"What are you doing, Jackson?" hissed Dr. Thorn. "Keep moving!"

I opened my eyes and kept shuffling forward. "It's my shoulder," I lied, trying to sound miserable, which wasn't hard. "It burns."

Percy was still rubbing his shoulder though while Nico was left floundering how he'd blotted that out of his memory of the nights events when he'd thought they were etched in stone.

"Bah! My poison causes pain. It will not kill you. Walk!"

'That moment when the monster's nicer than Luke,' Hearth winced.

'I don't think nice is the word I'd use,' Magnus shook his head.

Thorn herded us outside, and I tried to concentrate. I pictured Grover's face.

"Annabeth would be so disappointed she wasn't the last face you'd want to see," Thalia laughed, but the others brightened in understanding. That empathy link, though there had never been any confirmation it worked while Percy was awake.

I focused on my feelings of fear and danger. Last summer, Grover had created an empathy link between us. He'd sent me visions in my dreams to let me know when he was in trouble. As far as I knew, we were still linked, but I'd never tried to contact Grover before. I didn't even know if it would work while Grover I was awake.*

Hey, Grover! I thought. Thorn's kidnapping us! He's a poisonous spike-throwing maniac! Help!

"I don't think that's enough to draw his attention," Alex told him. "Maybe if you mentioned something about a poodle, or Jesse McCartney."

"You're right, I should wait until my life's on the line and I'm forced to stall," Percy mock agreed.

Thorn marched us into the woods. We took a snowy path dimly lit by old-fashioned lamplights. My shoulder ached. The wind blowing through my ripped clothes was so cold that I felt like a Percysicle.

"As long as it's a blue one, then it's okay," Will chuckled.

Percy didn't even disagree.

"There is a clearing ahead," Thorn said. "We will summon your ride."

"Is it a dragon?" Alex asked longingly. Just one rideable one, was that to much to ask?

"It doesn't take a human sacrifice does it?" Magnus asked.

"Define human," Jason frowned, none of them were mortal, but would still probably count.

"What ride?" Bianca demanded. "Where are you taking us?"

"Silence, you insufferable girl!"

"Don't talk to my sister that way.'" Nico said. His voice quivered, but I was impressed that he had the guts to say anything at all.

Percy held his hand up in a long-range high five and called, "good on you! More than I did!"

Nico felt such an unfamiliar swooping through his gut he didn't know what that feeling was for a second. He did not raise his hand back, but said, "thanks," and really meant it. He couldn't remember Percy ever complimenting him before, but it didn't hold the kind of all consuming, breath holding, heart stealing praise he always would have thought. And he wasn't even disappointed. Just, happy with it.

Dr. Thorn made a growling sound that definitely wasn't human.

"Did you still think he was human by this point?" Jason rolled his eyes.

"The French accent was making me think otherwise," Percy said deadpan.

It made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck, but I forced myself to keep walking and pretend I was being a good little captive.

"A level of subterfuge I never would have thought you capable of," Thalia applauded.

Meanwhile, I projected my thoughts like crazy—anything to get Grover's attention: Grover! Apples! Tin cans! Get your furry goat behind out here and bring some heavily armed friends!

"So those extra weapons your mom packed were good for something," Magnus grinned, though he was still wondering if his mom would have ever driven him to a quest or perhaps grounded him for trying.

"Halt," Thorn said.

"Who goes there?" Jason mock finished the quote.

"We'd all like to know that," Percy groused while watching Thalia expectantly, even though he still got a sharp pain in his head for the reminder of why he wasn't going to be told early.

The woods had opened up. We'd reached a cliff overlooking the sea. At least, I sensed the sea was down there, hundreds of feet below. I could hear the waves churning and I could smell the cold salty froth. But all I could see was mist and darkness.

The silence lasted a beat in the room as Percy paused and waited for someone to ask him why he hadn't already taken the two and jumped in, an answer on his lips when he saw they knew why. His shoulder was still twitching unpleasantly as he held the book, Nico was picking at his lip with such a troubled expression like this monster had never left his nightmares. Those thorns were sharp, fast, and deadly accurate. They would have been speared even before gravity dragged them down, Percy couldn't have saved them this way.

Dr. Thorn pushed us toward the edge. I stumbled, and Bianca caught me.

"Thanks," I murmured.

"What is he?" she whispered. "How do we fight him?"

"Glory this girls got guts," Jason once again said what Thalia had longed to express, but still to afraid it would come out in past tense. Percy and Nico already couldn't stop a nervous tick anytime her name was said. "I'm betting child of Ares," he concluded with a curious look at Nico who never had given any flat answer who his parent was.

Nico neither confirmed nor denied it, feeling he'd give himself away whichever he did, and Will gently scolded, "don't spoil it for Percy now," as a cover anyways.

"I... I'm working on it."

"I'm scared," Nico mumbled.

Nico braced himself for the laughter and Percy to try taking back his high-five or something. What he instead felt was Will's arm across the back of the couch as he shifted his weight around, not quite leaning in closer, but the casual gesture was felt across the back of his neck as the hairs stood on end even before Magnus looked tragically around. "Am I really the only one who was hysterical at finding out the world wasn't normal? The ten year old didn't even scream, how am I the fruitcake here?"

"I like fruitcake," Alex patted his shoulder, "it's bright and entertaining."

Hearth was sort of laughing at his friends expense, but it was clear to all Magnus was exaggerating his hurt look.

Will leaned close and whispered, "ask nicely later and I'll tell you about how I pissed myself seeing a three headed snake attacking a swan in my back yard."

Percy didn't really want to keep reading as Thalia enthusiastically taught the sign for fruitcake to Alex and Jason couldn't seem to stop laughing without a care in the world. Something bad was coming. Like a pressure set firmly in his mind that had a ticking pulse in it just waiting for him to remember he had no desire to as the curdled, black feeling was easy to ignore now.

Magnus finally turned and begged it of him though, clearly having some regret about having put his foot in his mouth and opening this can of worms. There was something about those grey eyes he couldn't seem to turn down as he cleared his throat and complied.

He was fiddling with something—a little metal toy soldier of some kind.

"Stop talking!" Dr. Thorn said. "Face me!"

We turned.

Thorn's two-tone eyes glittered hungrily. He pulled something from under his coat. At first I thought it was a switchblade, but it was only a phone.

"The hypocrisy, the scandal!" Alex gasped. "What if he summons another monster who wants to eat you too, will they duel each other and you sneak away?"

"Gods I hope not, like we need even more problems," Percy sighed, but he agreed it seemed even more unfair than his already extremely unfair life deserved.

He pressed the side button and said, "The package—it is ready to deliver."

There was a garbled reply, and I realized Thorn was in walkie-talkie mode. This seemed way too modern and creepy—a monster using a mobile phone.

"What do you think their service plan is like?" Jason scowled. "Does DOA have a data rate and come up with all the contracts nobody reads?"

"I just want a list of who all is on the family plan," Thalia scowled in a weirdly similar way with a nasty twitch of her hands, a gesture promising she wouldn't use her arrows to send spam texts to them.

I glanced behind me, wondering how far the drop was.

Dr. Thorn laughed. "By all means, Son of Poseidon. Jump! There is the sea. Save yourself."

"What did he call you?" Bianca muttered.

"I'll explain later," I said.

"You do have a plan, right?"

Grover! I thought desperately. Come to me!

"If Grover's plan A, I don't want to know what your plan B would have been," Thalia tried her hardest not to sound condescending even as she brutally reminded him he'd run off without a plan at all. Grover, in fact, hadn't said a word about an empathy link and had been following their scent as well as the tracks through the snow.

Maybe I could get both the di Angelos to jump with me into the ocean. If we survived the fall, I could use the water to protect us. I'd done things like that before. If my dad was in a good mood, and listening, he might help. Maybe.

"I was right, I didn't want to know," Thalia sighed. If that was a workable solution he'd have done it already!

"I would kill you before you ever reached the water," Dr. Thorn said, as if reading my thoughts. "You do not realize who I am, do you?"

"Only the cannibals have had nametags, otherwise we've had to guess," Will reminded with something like a pout they didn't all take the time to properly introduce themselves before the killing began.

A flicker of movement behind him, and another missile whistled so close to me that it nicked my ear. Something had sprung up behind Dr. Thorn—like a catapult, but more flexible... almost like a tail.

"Unfortunately," Thorn said, "you are wanted alive, if possible. Otherwise you would already be dead."

"Who wants us?" Bianca demanded. "Because if you think you'll get a ransom, you're wrong. We don't have any family. Nico and I..." Her voice broke a little. "We've got no one but each other."

'Didn't stop her from leaving me all alone first chance she got,' but Nico was to tired to hold onto the bitter thought. It wasn't like these were the last moments he'd ever get to revisit the memory of his sister, but he'd also never done so before in such vivid detail. If he was going to have to hear her ultimate ending like he'd never bared to ask for before, he'd rather cling now to any of the good along the way.

"Aww," Dr. Thorn said. "Do not worry, little brats. You will be meeting my employer soon enough. Then you will have a brand-new family."

"Luke," I said. "You work for Luke."

Dr. Thorn's mouth twisted with distaste when I said the name of my old enemy—a former friend who'd tried to kill me several times.

"Don't you start Jason," Percy said before the blonde could even open his mouth. "I don't want to count how many times is several!"

"But it's important to keep track of these things," but Jason's smirk made them all pretty sure he was just messing with him. Then again, he was mouthing something and ticking his fingers, so he was probably doing it in his head and would more likely inform them when or if this was ever resolved.

"You have no idea what is happening, Perseus Jackson. I will let the General enlighten you. You are going to do him a great service tonight. He is looking forward to meeting you."

"The General?" I asked. Then I realized I'd said it with a French accent.

He'd been doing a really crappy version sporadically while reading too, but they'd thought he was just mocking Thorn. Nico's grimace still looked permanently stuck in place until Percy actively tried to stop.

"I mean... who's the General?"

Thorn looked toward the horizon. "Ah, here we are. Your transportation."

I turned and saw a light in the distance, a searchlight over the sea. Then I heard the chopping of helicopter blades getting louder and closer.

"Where are you taking us?" Nico said.

Some place safe, Thalia and Annabeth had promised each other as they'd arrived and began hashing out a plan. The problem was, she glanced guiltily at Nico now and felt like they'd never lived up to that promise. They couldn't have stayed at that school forever though.

"You should be honored, my boy. You will have the opportunity to join a great army! Just like that silly game you play with cards and dolls."

"They're not dolls!

The words had burst out of Nico as Percy had kept reading, and Nico flushed that was still so ingrained in him, but Percy didn't even take the opportunity to laugh at him back, considering the Guinea pig incident. Instead, he was almost watching him like he was impressed he had the nerve to snap at Thorn.

"How intricate is this card game of yours?" Alex asked with intrigue.

"Multilayered," Nico answered automatically. He bit his lip to stop himself going into detail and clutched the figurine in his jacket pocket tight enough his hand cramped. He really needed a new hobby.

They're figurines! And you can take your great army and—"

"Now, now," Dr. Thorn warned.

"Now, now yourself!" Alex protested. "Finish your threats young man!"

"And march off this cliff," Nico shrugged with an actual grin. "I wasn't as creative with the insults yet, but Westover Hall had been a good starting influence."

"You will change your mind about joining us, my boy. And if you do not, well... there are other uses for half-bloods. We have many monstrous mouths to feed. The Great Stirring is underway."

Will's arm twitched behind him again and Nico rolled his eyes, obviously nothing had happened. He'd met Will that night.

"Unless that's chocolate pudding, I don't want to know," Percy groused, though he also knew he rarely got told what he wanted in any good order.

"The Great what?" I asked. Anything to keep him talking while I tried to figure out a plan.

"The stirring of monsters." Dr. Thorn smiled evilly.

'What else do they bake besides donuts?' Hearth mock asked.

'Hopefully tea to soothe them back to sleep,' Magnus shivered.

"The worst of them, the most powerful, are now waking. Monsters that have not been seen in thousands of years. They will cause death and destruction the likes of which mortals have never known. And soon we shall have the most important monster of all—the one that shall bring about the downfall of Olympus!"

"Okay," Bianca whispered to me. "He's completely nuts."

"Being nuttier than a squirrel turd doesn't make him wrong," Magnus sighed. He envied that girl her ignorance while it lasted, he was past his own and still catching up how any of that was possible, while no longer being in doubt it was.

"We have to jump off the cliff," I told her quietly. "Into the sea."

"Oh, super idea. You're completely nuts, too."

"Lookie there Alex, now we both have something in common with this monster," Percy huffed.

"I like her," Alex chuckled, girl had spunk telling both parties this.

I never got the chance to argue with her, because just then an invisible force slammed into me.

"Annabeth's grand entrances and timing for the win again," Jason nodded.

Looking back on it, Annabeth's move was brilliant. Wearing her cap of invisibility, she plowed into the di Angelos and me, knocking us to the ground. For a split second, Dr. Thorn was taken by surprise, so his first volley of missiles zipped harmlessly over our heads. This gave Thalia and Grover a chance to advance from behind—Thalia wielding her magic shield, Aegis.

Percy didn't bother to ask who's plan that was, he read with pride all of his friends storming in like that even as his battle instincts were trying to kick in, his feet already tapping a crazy rhythm on the floor to join in.

If only he'd used that energy to dance with Annabeth, Thalia smirked to herself. The two could have cut up the floor.

If you've never seen Thalia run into battle, you have never been truly frightened.

"Why thank you Percy!" Thalia beamed at him while he set the book down to indulgently high-five her too for the entrance which she enthusiastically accepted.

She uses a huge spear that expands from this collapsible Mace canister she carries in her pocket, but that's not the scary part. Her shield is modeled after one her dad Zeus uses—also called Aegis—a gift from Athena. The shield has the head of the gorgon Medusa molded into the bronze, and even though it won't turn you to stone, it's so horrible, most people will panic and run at the sight of it.

Even Dr. Thorn winced and growled when he saw it.

Thalia moved in with her spear. "For Zeus!"

"Not the battle cry I was expecting," Jason admitted. She didn't seem to fond of her dad at any rate.

"I like to think it gives me brownie points," she shrugged, when really she just knew that struck even more fear into some monsters. It was a strategy she'd learned young on the streets, better to have them bolt and flee the fight from her mere presence than tax the energy of fighting them.

I thought Dr. Thorn was a goner. Thalia jabbed at his head, but he snarled and swatted the spear aside. His hand changed into an orange paw, with enormous claws that sparked against Thalia's shield as he slashed. If it hadn't been for Aegis, Thalia would've been sliced like a loaf of bread. As it was, she managed to roll backward and land on her feet.

The sound of the helicopter was getting louder behind me, but I didn't dare look.

Dr. Thorn launched another volley of missiles at Thalia, and this time I could see how he did it. He had a tail—a leathery, scorpionlike tail that bristled with spikes at the tip. The missiles deflected off Aegis, but the force of their impact knocked Thalia down.

The whirl of words, raw power and years of hardened battle on display left the others feeling spun around how she could so effortlessly leap back into battle after her actual death experience from before, and still left wondering how she'd fallen at all even from an army of monsters.

Grover sprang forward. He put his reed pipes to his lips and began to play—a frantic jig that sounded like something pirates would dance to.

Nico chuckled to himself as his brown eyes danced in amusement again and Will couldn't imagine ever wanting to drag his eyes away from the sight even though the son of Hades was looking at Percy. Clearly this was a fond memory to him, his love of pirates so perfectly captured in this moment with his swashbuckling hero apparently having saved the day considering he hadn't seen the invisible girl until it was to late.

Not so much for Percy, who was growing more agitated by the word, his hands fidgeting so much along the pages to reach for the pen and forcing himself not to. He had the book, of course he didn't seem to notice the admiring gaze among holding everyone's attention in the thick of battle, but Will finally got the idea.

Grass broke through the snow. Within seconds, rope-thick weeds were wrapping around Dr. Thorn's legs, entangling him.

Dr. Thorn roared and began to change. He grew larger until he was in his true form—his face still human, but his body that of a huge lion. His leathery, spiky tail whipped deadly thorns in all directions.

"Damn that's kind of cool, no hero's ever fought a manticore before," Jason grinned, though that didn't explain the French accent as that was an Iranian myth. Then he went cross-eyed as a vivid mental image of studying in a massive library came to mind as quickly as it vanished and he once again huffed why his mind still retained the most useless of information rather than where that library actually was.

"One got into camp once by disguising itself as a dog," Thalia shrugged, "Chiron personally vets anything invited into camp now."

"A manticore!" Annabeth said, now visible. Her magical New York Yankees cap had come off when she'd plowed into us.

"Who are you people?" Bianca di Angelo demanded. "And what is that?"

"A manticore?" Nico gasped. "He's got three thousand attack power and plus five to saving throws!"

"How many cards are there?" Jason asked eagerly.

"Do you really have them all memorized?" Magnus asked, feeling faint. It sounded more complicated than memorizing all the Pokémon, let alone their moves.

"They keep releasing them," Nico said with a soft smile, "and yeah, the rules are pretty complicated but once you learn the-"

"Ahhem!" Percy pleaded. "Your life is on the line now too mister!"

"Right," Nico shut his mouth, but he finally exchanged an excited look with Will who all to happily grinned back. As bizarre as it was to him nobody had yet ridiculed his youthful dumbass, this might actually be fun if he could get a whole team of people to play against.

I didn't know what he was talking about,

"It just described what the manticore was Percy, how much more explanation do you need?" Alex sarcastically asked.

"Dude," Percy groaned without looking up, his impatience growing.

Alex cleared her throat loudly though and Percy did look around, but it took him a second to realize what she wanted. "Dudett," he corrected.

"I accept that," she shrugged.

but I didn't have time to worry about it. The manticore clawed Grover's magic weeds to shreds then turned toward us with a snarl.

"Get down!" Annabeth pushed the di Angelos flat into the snow. At the last second, I remembered my own shield. I hit my wristwatch, and metal plating spiraled out into a thick bronze shield. Not a moment too soon. The thorns impacted against it with such force they dented the metal. The beautiful shield, a gift from my brother, was badly damaged. I wasn't sure it would even stop a second volley.

Now Percy was mad. The empty space on his wrist, the thought of his little brother's brown eye sorrowfully asking where it was, this stupid French lion nearly killing all of them! He wanted to turn to Thalia and hear in as few words as possible what the hell had happened but he knew what she'd do, just point at the book with an apologetic frown so he kept reading as pressure built in his skull.

I heard a thwack and a yelp, and Grover landed next to me with a thud.

"Yield!" the monster roared.

"Never!" Thalia yelled from across the field. She charged the monster, and for a second, I thought she would run him through. But then there was a thunderous noise and a blaze of light from behind us. The helicopter appeared out of the mist, hovering just beyond the cliffs.

It was a sleek black military-style gunship, with attachments on the sides that looked like laser-guided rockets. The helicopter had to be manned by mortals, but what was it doing here?

Percy finally knew how Magnus had felt in the beginning of all this. The answer was staring him in the face, there was no other explanation, but the words made no sense. Mortals working with monsters?!

How could mortals be working with a monster? The searchlights blinded Thalia, and the manticore swatted her away with its tail. Her shield flew off into the snow. Her spear flew in the other direction.

"No!" I ran out to help her. I parried away a spike just before it would've hit her chest.

Thalia grasped his shoulder and whispered a thanks she hadn't the chance to at the time. It was shaking under her grasp. He knew, some part of him that had lived through the terror his mind had forgotten still felt the pain about to come same as she did for what they'd witnessed. She squeezed, and it slowed for a few seconds as he met her eyes and gave her a grateful smile, his mind hoping against hope this meant rescue was on the way.

I raised my shield over us, but I knew it wouldn't be enough.

Dr. Thorn laughed. "Now do you see how hopeless it is? Yield, little heroes."

We were trapped between a monster and a fully armed helicopter. We had no chance.

Then I heard a clear, piercing sound: the call of a hunting horn blowing in the woods.

Hearth tapped Magnus and asked what that was supposed to sound like, let alone signal, but Magnus shrugged with no more clue. As adventurous as his mother was, she'd never been a hunter herself except to press upon him the balance of life and death in the wilderness.

Thalia waved to get their attention, and answered, 'you can feel it in your core as it vibrates in the air, a warning or herald to who you are. It means friends are coming.' The bright smile of pride on her face gave them a hint of who it would be to them.

The manticore froze. For a moment, no one moved. There was only the swirl of snow and wind and the chopping of the helicopter blades.

"No," Dr. Thorn said. "It cannot be—"

His sentence was cut short when something shot past me like a streak of moonlight. A glowing silver arrow sprouted from Dr. Thorn's shoulder.

The camo attire of the girl with the magic silver bow seemed to glow for a moment as Thalia shook her head ruefully. The first thing Zoe ever did she'd admired about that girl, always having to make an entrance, much like the very time they'd met in that bog.

He staggered backward, wailing in agony.

"Curse you!" Thorn cried. He unleashed his spikes, dozens of them at once, into the woods where the arrow had come from, but just as fast, silvery arrows shot back in reply. It almost looked like the arrows had intercepted the thorns in midair and sliced them in two, but my eyes must've been playing tricks on me. No one, not even Apollo's kids at camp, could shoot with that much accuracy.

Thalia chuckled with pride. Those kids might have the godly grace of their father, but not the blessing of their aunt.

The manticore pulled the arrow out of his shoulder with a howl of pain. His breathing was heavy. I tried to swipe at him with my sword, but he wasn't as injured as he looked. He dodged my attack and slammed his tail into my shield, knocking me aside.

Percy grimaced at this revelation of just how powerful this monster was. Something dire happened this day because they hadn't felled this beast.

Then the archers came from the woods. They were girls, about a dozen of them. The youngest was maybe ten. The oldest, about fourteen, like me. They wore silvery ski parkas and jeans, and they were all armed with bows.

"Your kin," Alex realized. She'd truly admired, almost considered the prospect if she could ever hold a vow of maiden hood in exchange for this offer.

"Eventually," Thalia smoothed out a nonexistent wrinkle on her jacket, her smile waning in memory of how she'd gotten here.

Percy studied her intently like he was seeing her for the first time again. He'd never really questioned the silver camo, it looked so natural on her, even covering her black attire.

They advanced on the manticore with determined expressions.

"The Hunters!" Annabeth cried.

Next to me, Thalia muttered, "Oh, wonderful."

"A warm reception I see," Jason said with an uneasy smile, he could practically feel her roll her eyes in the book.

"We didn't start on the best of terms," Thalia agreed distastefully how damn right Zoe had been, and she hadn't even liked her long enough to tell her that before inheriting her position.

I didn't have a chance to ask what she meant.

One of the older archers stepped forward with her bow drawn. She was tall and graceful with coppery colored skin. Unlike the other girls, she had a silver circlet braided into the top of her long dark hair, so she looked like some kind of Persian princess.

Clearly there had been another Lieutenant before Thalia had gotten the job, but the others still batted their eyes a few times to readjust imagining such a thing on a girl they didn't even know.

"Permission to kill, my lady?"

I couldn't tell who she was talking to, because she kept her eyes on the manticore.

"Why would she need it, kind of obvious we don't want this thing around," Percy demanded, looking from Thalia to the book with a panic he was trying so hard to hold back, bubbling tight in his gut.

"Respect," Thalia whispered. When their patron joined them she often preferred to make the final blow herself while they weakened it without orders to do their part. In this particular instance, Artemis may have even considered taking Thorn alive, having been looking for proof of Krono's rising and information about the ophiotaurus before deciding Thorn knew nothing of importance.

The monster wailed. "This is not fair! Direct interference! It is against the Ancient Laws."

Will hummed a sad note for a moment. That law sure caused a lot of distress among the people it impacted the most. They were absent so much not many people got a chance to remind them of it, but Will liked to think that was why. The distance was there out of eons of habit, not because they didn't care.

"Not so," another girl said. This one was a little younger than me, maybe twelve or thirteen. She had auburn hair gathered back in a ponytail and strange eyes, silvery yellow like the moon. Her face was so beautiful it made me catch my breath, but her expression was stern and dangerous.

Diana, Jason hazarded a not very wild guess. A headache already pinged at the corner of his mind, the idea of these huntresses was still odd in theory, but not nearly as weird as Annabeth and Grover had originally been to him. They were her followers, and he admired Thalia a lot. It should be interesting to see her depicted...he hoped.

"The hunting of all wild beasts is within my sphere. And you, foul creature, are a wild beast." She looked at the older girl with the circlet. "Zoe, permission granted."

The manticore growled. "If I cannot have these alive, I shall have them dead!"

He lunged at Thalia and me, knowing we were weak and dazed.

"No.'" Annabeth yelled, and she charged at the monster.

Percy had hardly batted an eye at the threat to him, but his mind felt like it was holding him hostage as he froze at what she was doing. Thalia tried to reach out for him again, saying in as much concern for him as herself, "Percy-"

Nico braced his arm across Will's chest with a dreaded look of acceptance for what was about to happen and was seriously contemplating if it would do any good to knock Percy out as Hearth rapidly paled in fear. Alex swallowed once and got on her toes, prepared to turn into a whale and swallow them all if she had to.

He heard Magnus say his name too, but it was all coming from to far away to be anything other than an obstacle in his way as he concentrated harder than he ever had in his life on a book.

"Get back, half-blood!" the girl with the circlet said. "Get out of the line of fire!"

But Annabeth leaped onto the monster's back and drove her knife into his mane. The manticore howled, turning in circles with his tail flailing as Annabeth hung on for dear life.

Jason was pushing himself tight into his seat silently wondering if Poseidon would resurrect them when Percy killed them for this blow as Annabeth's fatal flaw was being pushed to its limits right now. She'd thought she could save her friends better than a goddess of the hunt, and Percy was not happy about it.

"Fire!" Zoe ordered.

"No!" I screamed.

But the Hunters let their arrows fly. The first caught the manticore in the neck. Another hit his chest. The manticore staggered backward, wailing, "This is not the end, Huntress! You shall pay!"

And before anyone could react, the monster, with Annabeth still on his back, leaped over the cliff and tumbled into the darkness.

"Annabeth!" I yelled.

Percy was on his feet, the pages whipping around his hand like a gale force wind was trying to tear the book away, but he refused to let the print slip through as he held the last paragraph in a desperate bid to understand.

I started to run after her, but our enemies weren't done with us. There was a snapsnapsnap from the helicopter—the sound of gunfire.**

"No!" The water exploded out from him, ripping the ocean apart at the seams as she vanished over the edge and he didn't care if a bullet struck him as he compelled his domain to catch her, send that monster to the depths and give her back-

"Enough!"

Percy was frozen in place, his scream suspended in his throat while the others stumbled around into each other, their skin tingling unpleasantly and shaking for what almost happened. Thalia was shuddering closest to him, vapor wisping off her skin as if he'd actually been about to obliterate them all.

"Your disturbance is causing waves among the Olympians, literally," Oceanus said with a frumpy frown behind his tangled beard. He was in a seahorse house coat and wearing Hello Kitty slippers that did not diminish his vast presence over every inch of their surroundings as he held Percy in place.

After a few beats of silence, he released Percy, who gasped but immediately fisted his hands up and glowered at the titan, raising his sword point. A stranger stood before them as he looked upon the Titan with the uncaring, brash voice of demand. "Send me back. Give me my memories, and send me home!" Riptide glowed with his rising vocals as water began collecting around him again to cause mayhem, receding it from the Titan himself.

"You are supposed to be in hiding down here mortals, not disrupting continental shifts! Poseidon suggested I should ignore your quibbles after all and put in here who was asked of me, so no more complaining!" He raised his fingers to snap.

Every one of them tensed in fear where they'd be zapped to next.

Hearth jumped forward and signed, 'I volunteer!'

"Hearth!" Magnus grabbed his arm and tried to yank him back.

'You are safe down here my friend,' he paused and frowned at Percy, 'mostly.' He explained so rapidly Magnus almost couldn't follow while Oceanus sighed impatiently, but since nobody was shouting he was still waiting poised. 'Blitz will be worried where we've been, and you should get to meet your family. I will be fine, he has a home we can stay in until you return. We will check the park every day for you.'

Shame burned through Magnus as he understood enough. They weren't even homeless. They had a place to get back to. Then he gave a traitorously guilty look to the Titan with longing, and glanced at Alex out of the corner of his eye. 'Okay,' he pulled him into a quick hug, 'but be careful! I don't want to think if those Norse gods pull any crap in the meantime because I'm gone.'

'Blitz has connections. We will be safe,' he nodded before turning to face the Titan.

He looked so distraught to see his friend vanish, only possibly back home if this guy even did his job right, and yet finally getting to meet her again nobody could tell if he was about to punch his cousin upon arrival or hug her. He looked so like her Percy couldn't help but step forward, dropping his weapon and give just the gentlest pat on the shoulder. Even shying away from it, Magnus gave him a smile of thanks.

A snap, a floom of bubbles as Oceanus left, and they all braced themselves for a whirl of her tangled blonde curls to demand what was going on.

There was just one problem.

That wasn't Annabeth.

PJOPJOPJOPJO

Believe it or not I was going to add Annabeth after the Magnus Chase books were done and have her replace Hearth for the last five, but someone made a pretty valid and compelling argument about how she should get to hear her cousins story the same way he's hearing her's. Then I decided, since I'm adding her early, might as well get the full enjoyment out of a toss up... haha. Hope you enjoy the surprise visit in the next chapter!

* The book said while Grover was awake, not I as in Percy, which is a rather obvious mistake since Grover was awake every time it was used in the last book but Percy wasn't and instead of making it Percy's fault in the book I'm telling you all here.

**Yes, the rest of the chapter is missing on purpose, I cut it off for my needs and it'll be the start to the next chapter. Annabeth mysteriously vanishing and supposedly dying is cliffhanger enough over my favorite Goddess's dramatic reveal, sorry Artemis.

#pjo #Percy Jackson #reading the books #fanfiction #How Do You Say gods #percabeth #Thalia Grace #Jason Grace #Alex Fierro #Magnus Chase #fierrochase #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #Titan's Curse

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i-did-not-mean-to · 2 years

Note

2 - 1 - 1 for the may fic challenge because I love the way your mind works. This is going to be a treat!!!

@guardianofrivendell 💚

OMG...I'm sorry this took a while...It's been a busy two days...

So, here goes my little imagine for you...

Words: 2,4 k

Warnings: none

“Hey, you!” Fíli called you from across the crowded teacher’s lounge and – for a moment – you were more than tempted to just pretend you hadn’t heard him, but he was already pushing through the throng of half-empty coffee cups held in pale hands.

“How have you been?” he asked, leaning casually against a table littered with papers that swayed dangerously but didn’t – unfortunately – collapse under the weight of his muscular body.

“Fine,” you replied in a clipped voice and made to turn away from him; his hand – broad and strong – shot out to curl around your wrist carefully.

It was not as if you didn’t like him, but ever since he had joined the staff, it had become increasingly hard to listen to every unmarried – and some married – colleagues fawning over the golden-haired hero he apparently was.

While you taught art – or ‘how to make an expensive mess’, as you liked to call it – he was one of the cool teachers who sat on benches and let the kids play with fire.

Of course, with the huge end of school celebration coming up, you two had been paired up to find some creative workshops – that would not cost a fortune – and plan them.

“So, I thought we could maybe weld something nice in the workshop, something simple really, like wind wheels or so, and you could maybe paint some paper panes for it?” he proposed; you hated him a little bit in that second for – having checked the budget more in detail – you had foreseen lanterns yourself.

When you told him so, his eyes lit up immediately; he – unlike you – seemed to like that your thoughts had gone into a similar direction.

“You think we could get the glass for a reasonable price?”

You nodded slowly; you had it all figured out and – for some reason – you had believed that he’d kick up more of a fuss about you taking the lead, but he merely leaned back further and nodded appreciatively at you. Lazy sack!

Suddenly, he started crowding you and the discreet smell of his deodorant – mixed with the unmistakable aroma of fresh sweat – engulfed you; it was a thoroughly pleasant smell though that made your head turn slightly.

“Listen, I have a favour to ask from you,” he whispered conspiratorially, as if you were friends rather than simple colleagues who nodded at each other in passing.

You signalled that he might go on.

“My family has a barbecue after the celebration…and my brother is quite a brat; I told him that I’d bring a stunning colleague of mine.”

He looked so embarrassed – huge, blue puppy eyes pleading for you knew not what – so it took a moment for your befuddled mind to process his words.

“What does that have to do with me?” you asked sharply.

“Well, you are the prettiest girl working here,” he answered smoothly and – had you not been thrown off guard by how soft and open his face suddenly looked, you might even have been flattered by his words.

“Hardly,” you snorted, “but let me repeat. What does that have to do with lanterns and me?”

“I wanted to ask you if you would agree to accompanying me,” he grinned confidently.

“And?” you could feel the trap closing around you, but you pushed on in your merciless interrogation of his motives.

“And you might try to pretend that you don’t absolutely despise me. By the way, why do you? Am I not nice?”

Under the cheeky bluster, there lay an obviously earnest doubt, and you forced a smile onto your face.

“You are very polite…that is, you were up to this point. Tell me, why would I pretend to be semi-dating a colleague? So you can pull the wool over your brother’s eyes?” You cocked one eyebrow to express how much you disagreed with that plan.

“More or less; wait until you’ve met Kí, he’s a terror. Either way, you do me this favour for an hour or two and I’ll scrap my own idea and do lanterns. It’s a lot of work, you know?” He winked at you; you understood now that you should have talked this over with him much earlier, but you had not found the courage to face him or the opportunity to even get to talk to him without his fan club this far.

“I’ll draw up some designs and get them to you before the end of the week,” he swore solemnly, that beautiful hand – marked and scarred by his work with open fire and molten metals – coming to rest on a broad chest, covered in a worn shirt that looked so soft that you wanted to bury your face in it.

“One or two hours, you say?”

“Yup,” he beamed at you, “and – as I said – if you could maybe look at me as if I was the bee’s knees, from time to time only, that would be amazing!”

If only he knew how easy that would be, you thought, as your ambitious as much as your playful side were awakened by his ludicrous proposal.

You were an artist at heart and, not only was your project better than his, but you were also perversely excited by the idea that you would play a part, escaping your boring spinster-life for a few hours.

“I do not believe you,” Kíli laughed as he packed several bags of coal into the trunk of their uncle’s car, “you’re bluffing.”

Rolling his eyes, Fíli simply shrugged; he felt bad for lying to his brother, but he had intended to ask the cute art teacher out before anyway, only, she seemed to always slip away whenever he tried to catch her alone.

Throwing her into a family barbecue was probably going to severely diminish what little chances he had ever had though, he realised with a wince, as Thorin came thundering out as if hell itself was on his heels.

“I’ll…We’ll join you after the fête,” Fíli informed him, in reply to which his uncle merely grunted as he was mentally going through the steps yet to be taken; Thorin organised his little get-togethers as if it was the last assault on a besieged stronghold, backed-up by his sister, Fíli’s very own, beloved mother.

“Don’t dawdle,” the very same lady, her long, dark hair artfully braided, barked and then proceeded to chide his brother for not having loaded the car exactly as she had instructed him to do.

“I won’t, mum,” Fí sighed, pressed a kiss on her cheek and straightened his shirt.

“I truly believe he’ll bring a girl,” Thorin muttered as he counted the bags of coal, “why would he wear his best button-down to work otherwise?”

“Ah, wise king,” Dís – mother of unholy pains – mocked, “count your coal and let’s be on our way!”

The lanterns turned out to be a great success and the students surpassed themselves in creativity and skill in their fashioning.

Pride swelled in your chest, but you tried hard to suppress the glow of it for you didn’t want to give Fíli the satisfaction of seeing what joy your collaboration had inspired.

“You’re still on board for later?” he asked, a little anxiously, but you were as good as your word and nodded seriously all while glancing nervously at your watch.

The event was drawing to a close and yet, the sun was still lingering – golden and warm – just above the horizon; it was a glorious day for a picnic indeed and – had it not been tied to the man you so wanted to avoid and escape – you actually would have been looking forward to it.

He looked good, you had to admit, in his impractically light blue button-down and the tight jeans that were only minimally scuffed and – as was to be expected – every other living woman in the radius of 2 miles had noticed that as well.

Weirdly enough, Fí didn’t pay them any heed whatsoever, concentrating his billion watts smile on you instead as he started – entirely unprompted – to clean away the spare supplies into neat piles that he stowed away in boxes that would be much too heavy for you to carry.

He lifted them easily enough into his arms though and put them into the storage room while you wiped the benches; there was something quite gratifying in the feeling that he took his involvement in this venture seriously, but at the same time, there was that nagging suspicion that he was wilfully making you feel superfluous and weak.

By the time you’ve arrived at the edge of the small park, you were livid; he could not be that perfect! He was only pretending to be kind and agreeable to humiliate you by showing you up in comparison.

A group of blindingly handsome people turned to you as you approached, and you felt the heat rise into your cheeks; Fíli introduced you by your first name and promptly left you standing on your own in the middle of total strangers.

“So, you’re the hot colleague my brother goes on and on about?” a young man asked, pushing back a few stray strands of slightly wavy, dark hair that kept falling into his equally dark eyes, twinkling with amusement.

Lost for words, you bit your lip in frustration; it was just like Fíli to play these kinds of games where you could not win for you were utterly unaware of the very rules.

“Never mind him,” Fíli in the flesh shoved his brother out of the way and handed you a bottle of ice-cold beer with a wink, “he’s a huge blabbermouth.”

“Hello,” another man approached you, looking you up and down inquisitively, “I am Thorin, the unlucky uncle of that catastrophe.”

His introduction was underlined by a small jab of his sturdy thumb towards your companion for the night, and you stared at the stranger in wide-eyed shock; it was evident that he not only had been expecting you, but that Fíli had also provided some basic information about you as his uncle proceeded to ask you some poignant questions about your job and everyday life at school.

Once more, you were woefully at a disadvantage; everyone seemed to have gotten a general character sheet on your subject whereas Fíli had not volunteered any further information about this event than to call his brother a terror and indicating a vague timeframe.

By the time your colleague ambled over with another beer, you were fuming with more or less just rage.

“Woah, what’s the matter? Come meet my mother, she’s been so impatient,” Fíli invited you with a broad grin while his hand curled around your elbow gently.

You were halfway to the grill – he had made that one himself as he told you in an overly cheery tone that would not dissimulate his nervousness – when you dug your heels into the soft grass and hissed: “You’ve embarrassed me enough for one evening! Don’t you think?”

“I…what? What has Kíli said?” Fíli whispered back, forgetting about his mother and his uncle waiting for them around the fire immediately as he turned his full attention to you now.

“Nothing,” you replied sharply, “that seems to be the running gag; it seems obvious to me that you’ve given everyone fair warning about me, yet you didn’t have the courtesy to do so the other way around. Do you think it’s funny? To show me up?”

“That was never my intention,” Fíli exclaimed instantly, his eyes flashing like an ocean under stormy winds, “I just didn’t know what to tell you about them; they are…peculiar. It was more important to me to warn them to be on their best behaviour; I was not worried about you not making a good impression.”

There was a deep, earnest faith in his voice and his expression that made you forestall the flood of angry, bitter words burning on your tongue.

“I did not mean to withhold any vital knowledge from you, but…” he shrugged sheepishly, “they are what they are…a bit uncouth, a bit loud, but their heart is in the right spot.”

“You thought I wouldn’t come…” you whispered.

“If I told you that I am not the black sheep of the family? That the others love me well? Maybe, yes, because you seem to find fault with me no matter what I do; I might have been a little scared that you’d reject them out of hand if you knew how much like me they are. Artisans, people who work with their hands, no fine arts and lofty words…”

He looked down at his shoes in shame; you were not sure if he resented himself for thinking so little of his own family or for having so little faith in you.

“You are a prodigious idiot,” you laughed; his insecurity somehow calmed your own and you relaxed as you finally felt the last caresses of the afternoon sun wash over you, “if I’ve been a bit stand-offish, it’s because I might have been slightly annoyed by all the women beleaguering you everywhere you go; must have gone to your head by now.”

He blinked, then laughed heartily as well.

“Oh,” he grinned, “they all just want me to fix this, weld that, and so on; I am a glorified janitor to them, not a real teacher.”

“Nonsense,” you protested immediately, “they swarm around you because you’re handsome; they probably only ask you to do things in hopes that you’ll take off your shirt.”

“Is that so?” Fíli seemed in a much better mood suddenly, “and do you, dear colleague, entertain such devious thoughts as well? At times?”

Rolling your eyes, you nodded at his mother – by now impatiently tapping her foot against the soft ground – and gave Fíli an ambiguous smile.

“I guess that remains to be seen,” you whispered as you started walking once more.

“Despite what the others think,” Fíli gave back in a flirtatious tone, catching your chin between his index and thumb and giving it a small squeeze, “I was an acceptable student; you’ll see, and – if all else fails - I’ll set my brother on you and he’ll grind your resolve into dust by his sheer insistent silliness.”

“Challenge accepted,” you grinned and turned to his mother in perfect politeness; this would be a very interesting evening indeed.

So @fellowshipofthefics, here's another one for the May Challenge :D

And I hope everyone who stumbled across this has enjoyed this :D It's a little long and nothing really happens, but I did my best :D

Lots of love from me <3

#fanfiction #the hobbit #fotfics may challenge #fotfics #Modern!AU #Fíli #Teacher AU #fake dating

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skzsauce01 · 3 years

Text

A Bunch of (Oxy)morons

Anniversary Request Special

Synopsis: The dumb nerd develops a crush on the cynical cheerleader after he sits next to her in advanced literature, and learns just how smart her brain and mouth are. High school AU.

Warning: none

Word Count: 5.5k

Pairing: fem cheerleader!reader x nerd!Jeongin

Mr. Kim makes the entire class switch seats in the middle of the first semester for “feng shui” reasons, but Jeongin is pretty sure it’s because Changbin and Wooyoung have finally gotten on his last nerve with their incessant chatter. Participating enthusiastically in class discussions could protect their seating arrangements for so long.

Jeongin winds up with a seat in the back corner, next to the bulletin board covered with quotes, some of them literary, most of them not. The one closest to his head reads Carpe Diem! in bright gold. While the rest of the class shuffles around to their new desks, he stares blankly at the words, trying to figure out why the name of a fish species is so inspirational.

“He sure loves his quotes, huh?” comes a voice from his left. “Ugh, they’re all so cheesy.”

“Yeah, they’re really…”

He trails off when he realizes who exactly he’s talking to — JYP High’s notoriously joyless cheer captain. People always say it with humor and from a place of love, but the wry smile you have on makes the statement seem serious. It’s a particular kind of smile, one that makes you look like you’re perpetually rolling your eyes. One that doesn’t really match with your jaunty red and white cheerleading uniform.

“Really what?” you ask as you sit into your seat. There’s no mockery in your voice, which surprises him for some reason; people only tease you about your overly cynical demeanor, so why does it feel strange? Right, it’s because you seem like — and look like, if he’s being honest — the mean head cheerleader from every teen movie made.

“Lame. Some of them don’t even make sense. Like, what’s so great about carp?”

You let out a sharp laugh, and Jeongin is unreasonably proud about it. “I hate that one so much. I swear, every English and lit teacher has it hanging up somewhere. ‘Seize the day.’ If I see that one more time, there will be no more days for them to seize.”

He shakily laughs and redirects his attention to the scratched surface of his desk. Someone has carved a frowny face with x-ed out eyes, which perfectly exemplifies how he feels.

“Jeongin, right?” you continue. Thank goodness you took his remark as a joke. “You’re a junior?”

“Sophomore,” he shyly replies, rubbing his still-burning ears.

“Seriously? I thought they only let juniors and seniors take advanced lit.”

“Miss Wang talked to the counselors about it last year since she knew I liked reading the classics, and I guess she thought I was doing well enough in her class, so the school made me take a placement test to see if I could be put in. I had to analyze some passages and write some essays…” He’s talking too much, so he stops there and goes back to looking at his desk.

“You nerd. And a literary one at that,” you say, though it sounds more like a compliment than an insult. “Please tell me you’re not one of those pretentious critics that scoffs at any piece of modern writing ‘cause those guys suck.”

Unfortunately, Jeongin doesn’t get the chance to reassure that he’s not a pretentious critic because class resumes. You rest your head on a propped up arm, and your glittery bow tilts in the same direction. Pretty.

The bow, that is.

Several days later, Jeongin is sitting frozen in his seat, waiting for someone to say something.

There are a few things worse than the entire room going quiet after one has presented their argument. Jeongin would know as he’s currently living in that moment. Is it an impenetrable argument — can you even call it an argument if it’s that indisputable? — or is it so outrageously awful that everyone needs a moment to fully take in the amount of stupidity he put forth? Even Changbin and Wooyoung are oddly silent.

“I disagree,” you say, bursting the bubble of anxiety welling inside him and creating a new one altogether. He should have just stuck with the easiest interpretation rather than try to impress the class. “I think you make an interesting case, but weather is traditionally used to reflect the characters’ emotions and not the other way around.”

“Yeah, but imagine being stuck inside a creepy mansion while it’s constantly storming outside,” Wooyoung counters. “Wouldn’t you go insane too?”

“I’m pretty sure the cheer-less-leader would like the gloom,” Changbin teases. To almost no one’s surprise, you smirk and nod. “I swear, rainy days are the only times you’re actually peppy outside of a rally.”

Mr. Kim, however, still hasn’t gotten used to the gentle ribbing you get from your classmates. “There’s no need for personal attacks,” he says, to which you assure him that it was not a personal attack but a fact. “Does anyone else have anything to add? Chaeyoung? We haven’t heard from you yet.”

Chaeyoung agrees with your stance. In fact, most of the class does, Changbin and Wooyoung being the only exceptions because they enjoy playing devil’s advocate. Jeongin is thoroughly embarrassed, and even more so when someone points out that correlation does not mean causation, rendering Jeongin’s argument useless in the face of statistics. He sinks a little lower into his seat.

After an excruciating amount of time — there is no way thirty minutes is that long — the bell rings. Mr. Kim reminds everyone that the first draft of the analysis essay is due in two weeks. The class lets out a collective groan.

“Time will go by quickly, so don’t procrastinate.”

Jeongin shuts his book, leaving a folded sheet of notebook paper as a bookmark. That essay’s the last thing on his mind as of now. He’s halfway out the door when he hears you mumble to yourself, “Well, that was fun.”

“Not really,” he mutters, mostly to himself. However, since you’re standing right behind him, you hear his reply.

“I think Mr. Kim was impressed,” you say as you fall into step beside him. You’re holding two thick textbooks along with your fancy metal water bottle, and Jeongin debates whether or not to help you with your books. That would be the polite thing to do, but he’s not feeling too polite towards you after what happened. “I mean, you did argue the opposite of every single literary weather analysis, and you made it sound kind of reasonable. That essay’s gonna be easy for you.”

He parses those compliments in his head, looking for the slightest tinge of sarcasm. He doesn’t find any. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome, but say it like you mean it next time.” You give him a half-smile, a cross between your peculiar one and a genuine one. He blushes. “Anyway, have fun in math. It gets even harder next year.”

Jeongin glances at the trigonometry textbook in his hand, deciding not to tell you that he’s not that bad at math. You would just call him a nerd again, and a math nerd seemed worse than a literature one for some reason.

Probably because you seem to prefer reading over solving equations and proofs.

He does too.

The fall rally means two things: one, he doesn’t have to be in class for an hour and two, he has a chance to see what you’re like when you’re in Cheerleader Mode. He overheard Changbin joking that you saved all your energy for performances during class, and he’s seemingly correct.

Your sunny demeanor is so stark compared to your usual cynicism, it’s hard to believe that they’re not from two different people. There’s no lazy cat languor in the way you cheer; all the stunts you perform are sharp and polished, and wow, if he isn’t impressed by the series of flips you pull off near the end. You land into a split in front of the finished human pyramid, grinning from ear to ear. It’s only when the crowd applauds and when the music stops does your grin melt into the particular smile Jeongin identifies you with.

When he sees in advanced lit, you’re still in your uniform, a frown on your face as you jot down the homework assignments from the classes you missed earlier.

“You did great today,” he greets.

You momentarily look up at him, startling him with your sour expression. “Then you must have closed your eyes during the ending.”

“What? I thought it was amazing.”

You shake your head. “I was supposed to finish at the same time the girl on the top made it to the top. I miscounted my flips and did one extra, ugh. Everyone worked so hard, and I screwed it all up at the end. Anyway, thanks. I’m glad you had fun at least.”

“No problem, but” — he’s already blushing, and he hasn’t even said the lines yet — “say it like you mean it next time.”

“Don’t you use my own words against me.” That wry smile returns. You sigh and shut your planner, shoving it to the corner of your desk. The passing period bell still hasn’t rung yet, so you turn to him again. “So Jeongin, literary nerd, how’s that essay going?”

“I’m done. Which prompt did you pick? I did mine on the narrative structure.” He initially planned to write about the landscape and weather, but after that discussion, he decided it was best that he stay away from that topic for a while.

“Yeah, me too. Wanna swap papers during peer review?”

“Yes!” he says too quickly.

“Great. You better not hold back with your comments. Be brutally honest. I want my essay to look like it's been drenched in blood when you’re done with it.”

Two days later, Jeongin is finding that to be rather difficult because you are underselling yourself as a writer. He has heard your points in class discussions before, and they’re always well-thought-out. On paper though, he imagines that this is what you’re like when you’re in Cheer Captain Mode: assertive and matter-of-fact.

Most of his suggestions are about your paragraph transitions and better phrasing, nothing about the actual quotes or their respective pieces of analysis. When Jeongin gets his essay back, his is the one that looks like it has been drenched in blood. He scans through the comments. In the empty space on the last page, in giant red letters reads, “Tighten up your arguments and HAVE SOME CONFIDENCE!”

He’s unsure if this is a personal attack or a motivational speech.

“What does this mean?” he asks.

You lean over, your shoulder only a few centimeters away from his. He could kiss your temple right now if he wanted, and the sudden thought of that makes him flinch.

“Oh, sorry. That was probably my hair,” you say as you draw back. “Anyway, this means exactly what it says. Even though you have good points, you write like you’re unsure about it, which makes you seem less credible. You’re a sophomore in a junior-senior class; you’re smarter than you think you are. So have some confidence.”

He doesn’t really have that much left after reading your paper. Nonetheless, he says, “Okay. And thanks for editing.”

“Thank you to you too.”

You shuffle your papers back together and ask Changbin if he could look over it. Jeongin then trades essays with Felix, who sits catty corner to him. Felix is a junior, a fact Jeongin only knows because that was his interesting fact about himself during ice breakers before Mr. Kim made him choose an actual interesting fact. Jeongin sighs in relief when he sees that Felix’s essay is not nearly as good as yours. At least he knows that not everyone else’s writing skills aren’t as intimidating.

It takes nearly a fortnight for him to realize it, but Jeongin is pretty sure he has a crush on you. It’s either that or he’s holding himself to very high standards of analysis. Your message to “have some confidence” rang in his ears as he made edits to his paper, and he kept checking your facial expressions during class discussions to see if you approve of his argument or not. Then he started noticing the little things, like that little eyebrow raise you do before doling out a snarky remark. Your jackets are always too large, so one side always ends up halfway down your arm before you hastily pull it back up.

“Hey,” you say as you turn to him after finishing your conversation with Changbin. “Are you busy after school on Friday?”

This can’t be what he thinks it is. There’s no way you like him. “I don’t think so,” he squeaks out, ears burning.

“Great. Or maybe not. Anyway.” You open the cover of your topmost textbook and hold out a purple flyer to him. “The cheer team has a fundraiser at FroYoZen. If you show them this, we’ll get twenty percent, so come if you can and bring your friends.”

He takes the flyer and carefully folds into halves. “I might be able to go.”

“Well, I’ll be there, so I’ll know if you actually show up or not.”

Oh, he’s definitely going to go, and he’s going to drag as many people as he can with him. That should make you happy.

Unfortunately, he only manages to convince Beomgyu and Chaeryeong, though Chaeryeong is there more for “cheer-dance solidarity” rather for Jeongin’s sake. He stands in line with his flyer, scanning the tables to see if you are there. Despite half the cheer team being there, he sees you seated by a window with a stack of purple flyers and a cup of yogurt in a perfectly matching color. You’re dutifully doing homework.

“That’s the cheer captain,” Chaeryeong informs when she sees him staring at you. Luckily, you’re too busy with homework to notice that he had been staring.

“She sits next to me in lit. She told me about this.”

Beomgyu and Chaeryeong are stunned by this news, but Jeongin is pretty sure he’s mentioned you before. Well, maybe not by name, now that he thinks about it.

“Is she actually like what people say she is?” Beomgyu asks.

The memory of Changbin calling you a “cheer-less-leader” plays in his head. “Kind of, but she’s nice and really smart.”

“Can you ask her if she’s eating taro or ube, and if it’s good, for me?” Chaeryeong interjects. “Since you know her and all.”

As much as Jeongin would like to talk to you, he’s not sure if he wants to do it in a crowded frozen yogurt shop with dozens of his classmates around. You’re popular, he’s not, and while the social hierarchy at JYP High doesn’t really exist, it still feels awkward to him.

“I just sit next to her…” he weakly protests as Chaeryeong pushes him along, using him as a human shield as they approach you. Beomgyu calls for them to hurry before the line moves up too far. “Why don’t you do it?”

“Because I don’t know her and you do.”

“She’s not as scary as people make her out to be.”

“I know, but I still feel weird about it.”

“It’s one question.”

“Don’t you want to talk to her?”

He stutters out an incoherent response. Jeongin stops at your table, Chaeryeong peeking from behind his back. “Hi,” he says to you, his pitch much higher than normal.

“Hey…” You finally glance up from your notebook. “Oh, you did come. And you brought a friend too. You’re on the dance team, right? With your sister?”

Chaeryeong shyly nods.

“Your routine during fall rally was sick. Anyway, thanks for coming and supporting the cheer team,” you say. “Make sure you show them the flyer during checkout. There’s a bunch here if you need one.”

Chaeryeong takes one even though she has one in her pocket and nudges Jeongin. With more embarrassment than normal, he asks about the flavor you chose. “It’s the same color as the flyers.”

“Yeah, I did that on purpose. Ube’s my favorite flavor here.” You flash Jeongin and Chaeryeong that particular smile. “It’s cheesy, I know, but red and white is really boring for a fundraiser. Might as well pick a good color, am I right? Also, you guys might wanna get in line before it gets too long.”

Chaeryeong nods and waits for Jeongin, but he doesn’t want frozen yogurt anymore. “You can go ahead. Get me mango if I’m not back in time.” he tells her, and she bounds off to Beomgyu who is anxiously glancing at them. To you: “I wanted to ask you if you got your grade for the essay yet.”

“No, I’ve been checking. He said ‘by the end of the day,’ but who knows if he means by the end of the workday or the actual day.” You sigh and readjust your falling jacket sleeve. “Did you get yours yet?”

He shakes his head. “I’m sure you did good.”

“It’s Mr. Kim. He’s known to be a harsh grader.” You sigh again and pick up your pencil. “We’ll see what happens. Thanks for coming.”

You say it like you mean it, and something inside Jeongin bursts with confetti. “Thanks for letting me know about this.”

He also means it.

Grades are inputted in at midnight, and Jeongin’s first instinct is to tell you about the amazing 91% he received, only to realize that he has no way to contact you. He finds your social media and spends far too much time contemplating whether he should follow you or not. He wants to, he really wants to. He loves your profile picture: a candid of you leaning against a lit street light in the dark, your deadpan expression juxtaposed with the rose gold balloons you hold. It perfectly captures you.

But is it weird to do so? Would you suspect something if he did add you?

@cheerlessleader stares back at him, daring him to do so. He almost brings himself to press the button. Almost.

When he finally sees you Monday afternoon, he feels like he’s about to combust with all of the good news inside him. You finally finish your conversation with Changbin after what feels like an eternity.

“Grades went in,” he blurts out.

“You got a good grade, didn’t you? Look at this fountain of joy over here,” you call out to no one in particular. You smile. He loves your smile so much, especially when it’s directed at him. “So what did you get?”

He tells you with all of the confidence that he has, and you nod approvingly. “That’s great. Nice job, lit nerd.”

It sounds so pretty when you say it; it rolls off your tongue so easily, more like you’re singing than speaking. “It was because of your comments.”

“As much as I appreciate your flattery, you’re forgetting about your own writing skill. Stop doubting yourself. You’re too young for that.” Your jacket sleeve falls down, and Jeongin wants to pull it back up for you, to cover your exposed shoulder. Mr. Kim’s classroom is always freezing.

“What did you get?” he asks to distract himself.

You tug at your jacket collar. “96. Apparently, I’ve got ‘a little bit of confirmation bias.’ I can’t wait to see his actual comments on the essay, not just that little blurb he writes in the gradebook.”

Jeongin’s blurb is about his “extraneous and unnecessary details” and “looser-than-ideal structure.” “96 is amazing.”

“Thanks. 91’s amazing too.”

“Amazing” is too bright of a word for you to use, especially since your usual speaking tone borders on impassive. But he can tell the difference between your normal drawls and gibes now. Changbin is usually on the receiving end of your playful derision. Your words drip with sarcasm like honey from a spoon, deceiving the recipient momentarily with its sweetness, slowly covering them in its heaviness. It’s a very dramatic affair from Jeongin’s point of view.

He would love to get a taste, a true taste, none of that watered down stuff you serve him.

Beomgyu is one of his closest friends, and therefore knows something is off about Jeongin. “Hello? Are you even listening?”

“Yeah.” To all of his friends, Jeongin has been staring off into the distance for the past five minutes, but the truth is, he’s been observing you at your lunch table for the past five minutes. There’s a football game tonight, so you’re in your uniform, your iridescent bow shining in the sun. Jeongin has this stupid notion in his head that you’ll notice him and wave hello when you catch his eye.

“What’s the color of my homecoming dress?” Ryujin asks.

He snaps to attention after noticing everyone’s eyes on him. Ryujin’s question echoes in his ears, and he tries to play back the snippets of conversation he might have overheard. He swears they were chatting about peach drinks, not homecoming. It’s all white noise though. “Blue?” he guesses.

“Light or dark?”

“Dark?”

“Trick question,” she says, satisfied. She spoons a colorful blob out from her fruit cup. “I’m not going to homecoming.”

While Chaeryeong protests and while Beomgyu gets dragged into their bickering, signaling to an oblivious Jeongin for help, Jeongin is back to watching you make disgusted faces as your friends try hot sauce on apples. When Jeongin has finally given up on getting your attention, Ryujin is still adamant on not going to the dance.

“I’ll go if the boys go,” she says, clearly assuming that neither of them are interested.

“Well, I’m going now just to piss you off,” Beomgyu says. Chaeryeong cheers.

Ryujin is sending Jeongin warning glares, but he simply shrugs them off. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

The lunch table devolves into chaos: Ryujin aggressively flicks water at the Beomgyu and Jeongin, Jeongin tries to shield his books from water damage, and Chaeryeong pleads with her to go dress shopping together. On the surface, it appears that Jeongin has agreed to go to the dance just to spite his friend. That’s only partially why he’s going though.

Before advanced literature can begin, he turns to you to ask you what homecoming’s like — he wants to know if you’re going, but this seems like a more innocuous way of finding out — but you speak first.

“Did you hear about our final?”

He hasn’t.

“An ‘in-depth character analysis, complete with comparisons to other characters from any media.’ Ugh, I thought we were done with this book already. This has to be Mr. Kim’s favorite book or something.”

“It could be worse,” he volunteers. He’s itching to ask you, so he says it without any pretense. “Have you been to homecoming before?”

“Okay, look, I know my whole thing is ‘the cynical cheerleader,’ but I do cheerleader-y things too.” Dry wit, but none of it is about him. Your signature smile doesn’t accompany it, and your tone morphs into something more neutral. “What do you wanna know? It’s definitely not as fancy as prom, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“What’s it like?”

“Kind of boring, if I’m being honest. You just hang out with your friends and talk, maybe dance if you’re feeling extra alive that night. Take pictures in front of the balloon arch and pretend that you’re not actually inside the gym.”

His heart drops. He hopes his voice doesn’t betray him when he asks, “So you’re not going this year then?”

You laugh a little, and the smile shows up, instantly soothing his worries. “No, I am. It’s my senior year. I might as well.”

That’s all he needed to know.

Like you told him, homecoming is a little boring. JYP High’s football team did win their game yesterday, so everyone at the dance is in high spirits, but the event itself isn’t as exciting as teen movies made it out to be. Pictures are taken in front of the arch, in front of the painted ocean scene, in front of the extremely out-of-place red padding on the gymnasium walls.

Jeongin scans the sea of people for you, getting hopeful every time he sees something green. He overheard you talking to Chaeyoung about rewearing last year’s dress, and Changbin complimented the color, saying it reminded him of the wooden grass cutouts they had for the Alice in Wonderland theme but “in a good way.” However, the dimness of the building doesn’t help.

While taking (another) picture in front of (another) painted whale, he hears Changbin’s and Wooyoung’s distinct voices above the hum of the dance. You’re standing near them by the octopus cutout, posing for pictures with a few of your cheer members. Even in the low light, you’re stunning in your short flared dress. You mockingly twirl for the camera, your skirt still spinning with motion when you stop. You smirk and push your shoulder forward, batting your eyelashes in the most coy manner he has ever seen. Then you dissolve into laughter as your members look on with horror when they realize how un-you you’re being. He can’t stop the growing smile on his face.

The sound of a shutter goes off, and Beomgyu lowers his arm and hands the phone back to Chaeryeong. Your cheer members have dispersed, and you melt your way into Changbin and Wooyoung’s circle.

“There’s an octopus!” Ryujin points out. Jeongin never knew about her enthusiasm for them, but he’s grateful for it as she drags them all to where you just were. She plants herself firmly in the center of the cutout.

“Jeongin, ask her to take it for us,” Chaeryeong says, shoving her phone into his hand and using him again as a human shield to get to you. “You know her.”

The same nervous feelings from before arise, and he’s sufficiently red when he finally reaches you. He stiffly holds out Chaeryeong’s phone, being careful to look at your face and not anywhere else. Seeing you up close now is like the opposite of looking at a Monet.

“H-hi. Could you take a picture for us?” he manages to get out. “You look nice, by the way,” he adds in a hurried breath.

“Flattery always works. And thanks.” You say it like you mean it. “Nice tie. I think Changbin’s wearing the exact same one.”

Jeongin’s not wearing a tie.

He fiddles with his shirt collar, wondering if he should have worn one after all. At the octopus, you snap a few pictures of him and his friends, an amused grin appearing as Beomgyu gives Jeongin and Ryujin bunny ears with his fingers. Chaeryeong bounds forward to see how the photos turned out, and Jeongin follows closely behind, mostly so he can be near you again.

“I like your dress,” he shyly tells you as Chaeryeong scrolls through her camera roll.

“What other favors do you need? If it’s stealing the octopus, you should probably ask them,” you say, gesturing toward Changbin and Wooyoung.

“I was just complimenting you.”

“Sure you were.” You turn to Chaeryeong. “Did the pictures turn out okay?”

She beams and nods. “Yes! Thank you so much.”

You wave them off and head back to your friends, returning Wooyoung’s challenge to a dance battle with a snarky retort. Your remark about dancing echoes in his head. Does he dare to do it? And during an event where no one is actually dancing? He takes a step in your direction, eyes trained on your back—

“Shark!” interrupts Beomgyu, disbelief and excitement coloring his cries when he spots the poster. “Let’s go.”

Jeongin follows his friends and situates himself right under the shark’s gaping maw. When he smiles for the camera, it’s because he’s watching you. Your lips are curled into a smirk as you listen to Changbin’s taunts, but even from this distance, he can see the genuine happiness shining through. You catch his eye and wave at him, sending his heart racing.

Carpe Diem!

Today is the day Jeongin seizes the day.

The golden quote by his head has been a reminder of your first interaction with him, and though he can still hear your sharp laugh over it’s cheesiness, it’s a perfect description of what Jeongin’s going to do after school.

Last weekend, he finally worked up the nerve to follow you. He nearly squealed with delight when he saw that you followed me back. Plus, you liked his photos from the homecoming dance and his latest one of his poke bowl. That had to mean something.

So that is why Jeongin is standing in line at FroYoZen, ordering ube yogurt instead of his usual mango. Cheer practice is still going on, but he needs to be back on campus before it’s over. He needs to catch you at the perfect moment and present your favorite dessert to you and ask if you would like to go out with him and wait anxiously for your reply. Just thinking about it makes him dizzy.

When he makes it back to school — thank goodness the store isn’t two far away — practice is still ongoing, judging by the lack of people hanging around the parking lot. Jeongin makes himself comfortable on the steps leading to the main building and watches the building doors. Your carefully packaged yogurt is sitting in the shade of his backpack. He would rather you eat it when it hasn’t been completely turned into a puddle, but practice is going longer than he expected.

“Hey,” he hears Changbin say.

Jeongin meekly says hello back. He doesn’t know Changbin that well since he sits on the other side of the room; you’re his only connection to him.

“You waiting for someone too?” Changbin asks. He sits down beside him, stretching his legs and his arms.

“Yeah.”

“How’s your final essay going?”

“I haven't started yet. What about you?” Why is practice so long?

“Same. I don’t know why he told us a month early. It’s not like anyone’s actually going to work on it.”

Jeongin nods and is frantically trying to come up with another response when the main doors swing open. Two girls he recognizes come out, holding their sparkly pom poms and water bottles. Another girl, this time with a duffel bag. Then you and another senior girl, chatting about another fundraiser, pausing under the veranda to finish the conversation. After you’re done discussing the finer points of Friday nights versus Saturday nights, you start making your way towards the parking lot. When you see him, you raise your eyebrows and your mouth quirks up.

“You seriously waited for me?”

Jeongin smiles and nods. “Y—”

“I told you I would,” Changbin says, standing up to greet you. “I can’t believe you didn’t trust me.”

“Yeah, ‘cause last time I trusted you, I ended up eating fruit with hot sauce!” You shake your head, more with amusement than annoyance, and notice the yogurt cup. “Ube or taro? If it’s ube, you make good choices.”

“It’s ube,” he replies. His fingers wrap around the container, but he hesitates about giving it to you right now. Changbin being here wasn’t part of his plan.

You nod approvingly. “Nice. Are you waiting for someone?”

“Yeah.”

“I think the dance team is almost done.”

Jeongin just smiles stiffly and wonders if he should just go for it now. He sets the yogurt onto his lap and finds that no words are coming to his head. The speech he had prepared two days ago has been erased from his mind. His heart is beating too fast, the sun is too low in the sky and directly in his eyes, and your gift is slowly melting in his hold.

“See you on Monday,” you tell him as you begin to walk down the steps with Changbin.

All he needs to do is get up and follow you. He’s halfway up when he sees Changbin throw an arm around your shoulder. You make a noise but don’t pull away. Jeongin sits back down.

“You seriously waited two hours for me?” you say. “I was just going to ask Tzuyu for a ride.”

“You know I’m not actually a lousy boyfriend, right? Whatever bad things Yeri has said about me is a lie.”

“Oh, so they’re definitely true then.”

You gasp when he shoves you away and chase after Changbin when he sails down the rest of the stairs. Your red and white pom poms swing back and forth in your hand as you shout in your loud Cheerleader Voice for him to “get back here!”

He’s such an idiot. Why didn’t he see it before? Changbin is always around you, playing devil’s advocate to all your arguments, teasing you. Your social media handle is his nickname for you! All this time, he just thought Changbin was a friend — a really, really good friend.

The main doors swing open again, and the dance team comes out, just like you promised, but he doesn’t even notice. He doesn’t even realize going to school the following Monday; all he knows is that it was torture. Tuesday is torture. Wednseday is torture and basically every day sitting beside you is torture now that he knows he can’t ever go out with you. You still act the same towards him, sharing complaints about homework and teasing him for being a nerd, but he can’t joke or make you laugh like he used to. His feelings for you melt like yogurt in his hands: an ungraspable liquid that seeps through his fingers, falling helplessly to the ground, yet ever still so present, sticky and uncomfortable.

~ ad.gray

Extra: Changbin’s oxymoron is supposed to be salty sweetheart.

Thank you so much for the compliments! Hope you enjoyed this! <3

#stray kids #skz #in #yang jeongin #jeongin #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #in imagines #in scenarios #in x reader #jeongin scenarios #jeongin imagines #jeongin x reader #high school au #fem reader #20210819

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chyanxrene · 3 years

Text

Paris - ft Blaise Zabini

♡ Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Blaise Zabini x Y/N

♡ Summary: Threesome with Draco and Blaise, that’s all

♡ Warnings: Explicit content, just pure smut, MxMxF, anal (ish), degradation, drugs, alcohol, spitting (let me know if I’ve missed anything)

If you looked up confidence, you'd see Y/N's name under there, she knew what she wanted and with a few simple words she could get it. Regardless of how others saw her, the negative comments they made, she ignored them— typical signs of jealousy.

It only boosted her ego further.

Sure, she slept with quite a few boys over a number of years, but that didn't make her a slut— as others called it. She enjoyed sex as much as the next male, it was her body and she could do as she pleased with it.

It was her seventh year in Hogwarts, the final year. After the war, many students weren't too bothered about the exams, most still reeling from the aftershock of the lives lost and numerous casualties.

However the one thing about the war which was seen as a positive, was that all the houses congregated into one. The four houses that once stood tall, rivalling against the other every year, now stood together.

Of course there were some objections— mainly from the Slytherins and Gryffindors, however everyone shortly after accepted the new outcome.

Y/N was grateful for the change, this meant she was able to meet with people that she hardly spoke with, she enjoyed learning about others traits and being surrounded by good company.

And most of all, she enjoyed a good party.

That's where she first met Draco Malfoy, it was the beginning of the seventh year. She'd never spoken with him before. Slytherin were always secretive when it came to their parties, so she had never been to one, until a few months ago.

Obviously she saw had him around school, in a few of her classes, but they'd never spoken. So after one too many shots, the party ended quickly, ending with the pair tangled in his silk green bedsheets.

Bodily fluids, and the smell of sex and alcohol still surrounding them.

It was always a one time thing with Y/N, she made sure she never went back to the same male, or female twice. Relationships were not on the table for her, so she didn't want to disappoint anyone.

The same could be said for Draco, he clearly had the same thoughts as Y/N, which led to the pair hooking up a few times per week. No feelings were involved at all, which is just how they liked it.

Rough, filthy, sheet-clawing sex is what he gave her. Y/N was used to being the more dominant and controlling one in the bedroom, but it appeared she had met her match.

It was a Friday evening, Y/N usually spent her nights in the dungeons, drinking and relaxing with the former Slytherins. Usually ending her night in Draco's room, but today she had an idea, today she wanted more.

She carried her flask into the common room, no more passwords so she easily walked in. The smell of the room instantly flooding her nostrils, cannabis and alcohol.

Pansy had her arm draped across Theo's shoulder, taking the blunt from him and placing it between her lips. She took a long, slow pull, holding the smoke within her mouth for a few moments. She grabbed Theo's chin, forcing his mouth open before blowing the spoke into his mouth.

"Starting the party without me?" Y/N laughed, rounding the chairs and settling in front of the couple.

"You're always late, Y/N, then again not even Draco's here, so I guess you're not that late," Pansy lazily smiled.

"Where is Draco anyway?" She frowned, looking around the room, which only Theo and Pansy occupied.

"Probably shagging someone— who knows," she laughed, she dabbed out her blunt and leaned back into the plush sofa.

"Respect me a little Pansy," Y/N heard a sharp voice coming from the top of the stairs, she turned her gaze to investigate the face of the voice.

There he was, dressed in his turtle neck and school trousers. Blaise stood next to him, the pair glanced at Y/N, and then whispered amongst themselves. Usually she didn't react to whispering that she knew was about her, but this made her feel some type of way.

It wasn't nervousness, it was pure excitement, she had wondered if Draco had the same idea as her. But by the look on his face, she knew he had the same idea. They were similar in many ways, perhaps in an alternate universe they would've been together, but not in this one.

Draco and Blaise strolled down the stairs, talking between themselves, Draco's hand gestures appeared to show enthusiasm to what he was saying. Blaise had a smirk across his mouth, taking in everything that Draco was informing him.

Y/N watched their every move, waiting for them to join the threesome in the centre of the room. Draco found his place beside her and Blaise sat on the spare sofa to the right of them.

"It's rather cozy tonight, don't you think Y/N?" Draco spoke, interrupting the silence that everyone had previously sat in.

She nodded slowly, taking a swig of her flask. The alcohol burning her throat, she could almost feel it flow through her bloodstream.

Pansy raised an eyebrow, and then lit another blunt, "what are you up to Draco?" She laughed, handing the now lit blunt over to Blaise.

Y/N watched as he placed it between his lips, his eyes closing as he inhaled, opening shortly after when he exhaled. Y/N felt a tingle in her lower stomach from just watching the action.

"Nothing Parkinson, just noting the coziness of this room," Draco smirked, his eyes glanced to the side of Y/N's face.

He took the flask from her, forcing Y/N to let out a groan of protest, but he ignored it. He swallowed the rest of the contents in the flask, dropping it back into Y/N's lap.

Some liquid lingered on his bottom lip, a droplet close to streaming down his chin. But Y/N caught it just in time, using the pad of her thumb to collect the liquid and brush it back onto his lower lip.

Draco's gaze was heavy, a darker shade of blue now in place of the grey hue that they usually had. The tip of his pink tongue darted out, licking his lower lip slowly.

He maintained eye contact with Y/N, he wasn't tasting the alcohol— no, he was tasting her.

Y/N's breath hitched in her throat as she watched him, his eyes never left hers. But they did flick from her lips to her eyes a few times. Draco Malfoy was a tease, and she loved it.

"Let's play a game, shall we?" Theodore laughed, he grabbed everyone's attention by his sudden suggestion. Pulling Draco and Y/N out from the current trance that they were both in.

"Sounds fun," Blaise muttered, his eyes notably heavier from the drugs that he had consumed.

"How about, never have I ever?" Pansy raised and eyebrow, looking at everyone's faces to see if someone were to disagree.

"I love this game," Y/N replied, sitting up eagerly waiting for the game to start.

"I'll start," Pansy spoke, "never have I ever, had sex with someone in this room," she smirked, raising her cup to her mouth.

Everyone followed suit, it was an easy question, something to warm everyone up. Theo was next, he took some time to calculate his question, or maybe he was just slow because of the blunt he had smoked.

"Never have I ever, thought about fucking a teacher," he smirked, drinking a shot of his drink quickly.

Unfortunately for Theo, no one else agreed with him, so he was now the recipient of a room full of laughs towards him.

"You're sick in the head," Blaise laughed, almost coughing from how hard he had laughed.

"Okay, I'll go next," Blaise smiled, "never have I ever wanted to sleep with my best friends partner,"

The shots were consumed by everyone, up next was Y/N, the alcohol had already gone to her head. Igniting all of her senses, she desperately craved to be touched, her skin raising with goosebumps from the lack of it.

Draco placed his hand over her knee, his thumb rubbing circles around her skin. Y/N was grateful that a he had opted to stay in her uniform for the rest of the day.

She cleared her throat, "never have I ever had a threesome," Y/N smiled, not drinking anything as that wouldn't be true. Pansy, Blaise and Draco on the other hand, gulped their drinks.

"And no one told me?" Theo frowned, Pansy slapped the back of his head, "you're too emotional when it comes to sex Theo," she laughed.

"Fuck you Pans," he chuckled. It was finally Draco's turn, he waited for a moment, swirling his cup in his hand, watching the brown liquor almost spill off the edges.

"Never have I ever, thought about fucking two people in this room at the same time," Draco spoke, raising his head to watch Y/N's answer.

Pansy scanned the room, squinting her eyes, she shrugged and then drank her drink. None of the males consumed their alcohol, so they waited for Y/N, to see what her answer was.

Y/N felt the rooms air become heavier, almost stuffier. The heavy smell of Draco's cologne, mixing with the light touches he pushed onto her skin, made her wet. There was no more denying it, or trying to fight it off.

Y/N downed the rest of her drink, dropping it onto the table in front of her.

"How did you know?" She whispered to Draco, however she didn't look at him, she didn't want to make it too obvious.

"Your eyes give it away all the time— tell me who you want, and I'll bring them for us," his breath was close to her ear, he kissed her earlobe and leaned back, fingertips still brushing up and down her bare thigh.

Y/N knew exactly who she wanted, she didn't need to think about it twice, "Blaise," she said, now facing Draco. He raised his eyebrow, his signature smirk forming onto his lips already.

"As you wish, darling," he smiled, "I'll see you in ten minutes," that wasn't a question, it was an order. Y/N knew what he meant, 'go to my room and wait for me there'.

So she did, waving goodbye to Theodore and Pansy, who were in a world of their own.

She climbed the stairs, the adrenaline edging her already. Excitement filled her body, she'd wanted this for weeks, ever since she first spoke with Blaise. The deep, soothing voice, she instantly imagined him talking her through an orgasm, and from then on she wanted him.

Y/N made it to Draco's room, she settled onto his bed, that she had grown do accustomed to throughout these past months. She kicked off her shoes, then placing them to the side as Draco hated a messy room.

It seemed like forever since Draco had told her to go to his room. She decided to make herself comfortable, propping herself up onto her elbows and flexing her toes.

She heard muttering from outside the door, signalling Draco and Blaise had arrived. She sucked in a breath and waited for them to enter the room.

Draco walked in first, holding a bottle of fire whiskey, Blaise followed behind, he had removed his tie grasping it firmly between his fingers.

"There's my little angel," Draco brightly smiled, even though he would never be with her, he still adored her and cared for her. So every compliment he gave to her, he meant with his entire heart.

"Hi Draco," Y/N said, greeting him in a friendly voice, Draco then frowned, which made Y/N raise her eyebrow, "you're not going to greet Blaise Y/N?" He tutted.

Draco strolled over to her, grabbing a hold of her chin firmly, "where are your manners," he spat, looking directly into her eyes.

She licked her lips, a playful glint in her eyes, "my apologises, hello Blaise," she smiled. Blaise nodded, throwing his tie over to Draco, who swiftly caught it with one hand.

Draco hummed in response, nodding towards her wrists, she held them up immediately, holding them together whilst waiting for Draco to bound them.

"My sweet girl," Draco mumbled, pressing a kiss onto her forehead, he tied her wrists together, then secured them to his bed frame, "how are you feeling," he asked.

A standard question, each time they had intercourse, he needed to know how far to push her.

Y/N smiled, "perfect."

He nodded, and moved towards the end of the bed, he gripped each ankle of hers and dragged her closer to him. The harsh movements caused Y/N to let out a unexpected moan.

"Blaise," Draco said, nodding towards his friend. Y/N watched as Blaise made his way beside her, sitting on the bed so his back was facing Draco. He stroked the fallen hair out of her face, his movements were soft, just as she expected.

Draco settled onto his knees between Y/N's legs. He widened them, pushing her skirt up so her underwear was on full display. Her arousal apparent, the red underwear she wore was visibly darker in the centre.

"I can't wait for you to taste her Blaise," Draco growled, his hands gripped each thigh, spreading her legs further apart.

A hum came from Blaise, noticeably deeper than Draco's however the effect was still the same. As Draco left kisses on her inner thighs, Blaise took the time to leave wet, sloppy ones across her jawline.

Y/N's eyes screwed shut, feeling Draco's fingertips brush the centre of her underwear, he let out a breathy laugh from hearing her own heavy breaths.

Blaise quickly tangled his fingertips between her hair and forced her head up.

"Watch him," he whispered, his eyes were stern, a warning in his voice. She became intrigued to know what would happen if she didn't.

He continued holding Y/N's head up, his spare hand unbuttoning her shirt, revealing the lace red bra that matched her underwear. Blaise let out a sigh, diving forwards and kissing her chest.

Y/N's eyes never wavered from Draco's, she watched as he curled a finger underneath her underwear, the cool air penetrating her sensitive skin. He shot her a wink, and snapped the underwear against her skin, a hiss resulting in the action.

"Please— Draco," Y/N pleaded, Blaise's mouth never stopped, his teeth and tongue nipping and sucking along her chest. Leaving red and purple bruises in its wake.

"Oh, look Blaise, she's begging," Draco chuckled, his thumb ran up and down her clothed pussy, forcing the lace material against the soft skin.

"Of course she is," Blaise smirked, he pushed her bra down, revealing her breasts.

Draco took the opportunity to fully snap her underwear, leaving her cunt exposed, the warm arousal now cooling instantly against the cold air.

He leaned down, breathing against her pussy, the smell of her arousal made his cock strain against his boxers. Both of the boys movements were timed a little too well, as if they had planned this.

Draco licked a long strip up her pussy, swirling his tongue around her clit before sucking on it. Blaise, similarly done the same, swirling his tongue around her nipple before sucking on it.

The sensations drove Y/N insane, the stimulation that both boys were providing her with was unlike any other. She wanted more, she was greedy, so she would get more.

As usual, Draco groaned at her taste, dipping his tongue in and out of her hole, gathering the wetness on his tongue to lubricate her clit— not that it needed it.

Blaise massaged her breast, removing his mouth fully from it, he leaned up close to her ear. His breathing heavy, almost panting. A finger suddenly slipped into her pussy, curling instantly to stroke her g spot.

"Oh— God it feels so good, don't stop," Y/N whined, her hips bucking at the feeling. Blaise's hand held her hip down, securing her in place, "don't be impatient," he whispered in her ear.

Sweat formed across her forehead, the coil inside her threatening to break soon. Draco used this as an advantage, stretching her out with not one, but two extra fingers.

Y/N gasped, and then moaned loud, a little too loud for Blaise's liking. He shoved three fingers into her mouth, preventing her from letting out a single word.

"Do you like when he fucks you with his fingers, hmm— Y/N?" Blaise spoke, his deep voice hot against her ear.

Draco continued thrusting his fingers in and out, flicking his tongue up and down her clit.

"Answer me princess," Blaise repeated, he too began thrusting his fingers in and out of Y/N's mouth, however not as harshly as Draco.

Y/N nodded eagerly, tears forming at the corner of her eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. Saliva escaped from the sides of her mouth, falling down her chin.

"You want to cum?" Blaise asked, he had a fake pout on his face, watching poor Y/N struggle against his tie.

Draco removed his mouth, leaning up onto one hand, the other still pushing in and out of her. His mouth was shiny from her arousal, he licked his lips and stared at Y/N, waiting for an answer.

"Answer him," Draco demanded, slowing his movements, Y/N let out a disgruntled moan, her eyes pleading with both boys to let her cum. Blaise removed his fingers, allowing her to breathe— and then speak.

"Please, please," her voice hoarse, tears fell down her cheeks, as Draco continued to edge her, knowing exactly how to bring her to the brink and then take her back down again.

Blaise turned his head back to Draco, "make her cum."

Draco nodded, thrusting his fingers out mercilessly, he eyed her every movement. Each heavy breath, each shake of her leg, he watched it all, he was in awe with how responsive she were to him.

"Shit," Y/N rasped, her orgasm tumbling through her body. Her legs shook uncontrollably, her mouth opening to let out a scream but it was muffled by Blaise's lips.

His tongue entered her mouth, flicking and sucking her own. Draco slowed his movements, the wet noises from her cunt, was music to his ears. He removed his fingers, pushing them straight into his mouth.

Her taste was delicious, if she'd let him, he'd do it all day, just to taste her.

Blaise's mouth left her own, leaving her breathless, he reached above her, undoing the tie. Y/N had almost forgotten the ache she experienced from having her arms stretched above her head.

"Let's put that mouth to good use," Draco said, undoing his belt and ushering her towards him. Y/N scrambled to the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of where Draco now stood.

"Tell me how you feel, darling," he whispered, brushing her crimson cheek with his fingers.

"Amazing," Y/N smiled, tilting her head back so her neck was on display. Blaise sat behind her, collecting her hair into a pony tail.

Draco looped the belt around her neck, securing it so it gave her little room to breathe, just how she liked it.

Her hands fumbled with his button and zipper, eager to please him. She heard Blaise behind her, repeating the action. Draco lifted her head using the belt, "you'll be a good girl won't you?"

Y/N nodded, the pair both gave each other a brief kiss, before Y/N was pushed down into an arch by Blaise.

Draco pulled down his trousers and boxers, revealing his hard erection. The tip oozed with pre cum, which made Y/N's mouth water.

He brushed her hair, massaging it and stroking it at the same time. Y/N jolted forward, feeling Blaise run two fingers up her leaking pussy, he collected her cum onto his finger tips and then licked it off with his tongue.

"You're right Draco, she tastes amazing," Blaise said to his friend who stood opposite him.

Draco nodded, and guided his tip towards Y/N's mouth, she happily opened it. Sucking on his tip, her tongue flicking around allowing his pre cum to dance along her tastebuds.

Blaise ran his tip up and down her entrance, she heard him spit behind her, but not on her. He lubricated his dick with his saliva, wanting a smooth penetration for him and her.

Light thrusts came from Draco, not wanting to choke her with his dick so soon. He waited for Blaise to push inside of her, her neck still at a tilt from Draco holding the belt.

Her hips were gripped tightly, a bruising grip at that, but she relished in pain, so she didn't care.

Draco nodded towards Blaise, both boys having mischievous looks upon their faces. And without warning, both boys pushed inside of her, filling her body to the brim.

Y/N couldn't even moan, all she could do was squirm around, Blaise stretched her similar to how Draco did. She could feel the curve of his dick, the veins inside of her.

She clenched around him, a groan coming from Blaise as he picked up the pace. Draco's tip hit the back of her throat, over and over again. The belt restricting her airways, forcing her to breathe through her nose.

The corners of her mouth hurt, her throat sore but she was determined. She hollowed her cheeks, flattening her tongue to take in more of Draco's dick. He didn't give her any chances to take a breath, he was now in control of her breathing.

Blaise's thrusts were brutal, his hands squeezed her ass and then smacked them. The stinging pain subsiding quickly by the amount of pleasure she was receiving.

"Your mouth— is so— fucking good," Draco grunted.

Saliva and tears dropped onto the floor below, her arousal leaking onto her thighs, she was a filthy mess.

Y/N tensed, feeling Blaise's thumb rim her other hole. She had done this before with Draco, however it still came unexpectedly. Draco noticed the reaction, and immediately told her to relax, she followed the orders without question.

She felt warm spit cover the hole, lubricating the area before Blaise could push his thumb in. His thrusts never faltering— in a way, distracting her from the taboo feeling she were about to endure.

After Blaise prepared her, he slid the thumb inside. There was a slight pain, but it didn't last long, Y/N was too caught up with what was going on in her mouth and cunt. Her entire body felt full, and she was content with it.

"So— tight," Blaise groaned, his head thrown back as he continued to pound into Y/N. Each thrust he gave her forced Draco's dick inside her throat even further.

Blaise reached around her body, rubbing her clit quickly with his other thumb. Y/N became lightheaded, her vision blurry, stars now in replacement of Draco who was in front of her.

Her orgasm tumbled through, forcing her to choke on Draco's dick. She squeezed around Blaise, as her second orgasm arrived. Her finger nails digging into the mattress below her, toes curling against the sheets.

Draco was first to cum out of the two boys, he enjoyed seeing her reactions, so his orgasm had always been nearer. He filled her mouth, some of the cum dripping out of it.

Blaise followed shortly after, pulling out and painting her ass with the ropes of his cum. Both boys letting out satisfied groans, Y/N almost stumbled forward but recovered her balance quickly.

"That was-" Y/N couldn't even think of a word, she was in a state of bliss.

Draco collected the escaped cum with his finger, pushing it into her mouth, just before she was about to swallow he held her jaw, "hold it," he ordered.

Blaise used his two fingers to wipe some of his cum off her ass, the cum threatening to drop onto the bed. But he was faster, Draco dragged Y/N's head up with the belt, so Blaise had better access.

He guided his fingers that were coated in his orgasm into her mouth. Both boys cum now mixing with her own saliva, she swallowed instantly, not giving the action a second thought.

"Rest now darling, you did so well for us," Draco whispered, brushing the strands of hair that had stuck to her face away.

"So perfect," Blaise said, kissing the crown of her head.

"Let's get you cleaned up, Y/N," Draco suggested, pressing his mouth into her forehead, he waited for her answer, but it was delayed.

There was a sudden knock at the door, angry bangs from outside the room, all three of them turned their heads to the side.

Draco raised an eyebrow at Blaise, which Blaise shrugged off.

"Next time, invite me you fuckers!" Pansy yelled, Theo was heard cursing, telling Pansy to leave them alone.

Y/N laughed to herself, after this, there would definitely be a next time, and was more than happy to invite Pansy Parkinson into the mix.

#Draco Malfoy #blaise zabini #draco malfoy smut #dracomalfoy #dracosmut #draco smut #draco malfoy x reader #draco x y/n #draco x reader #blaise smut #blaise zabini smut #harry potter smut #HarryPotter

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codenamesazanka · 3 years

Text

Here’s a too on-the-nose, ‘we live in a society’ type metaphor, but I still think it’s worth considering that ‘Quirk’ / 個性 means ‘personality’. Translated, the two kanji is lit. “individual/one’s nature.” You, yourself, who you are, what makes you unique, all that jazz.

In HeroAca world, it also means your supernatural ability, unique to you, formed by genetic inheritance from your parents, but also by how much you cultivate it, what you do with it - and how you fit into society because/in spite of it. So yeah, still ‘your nature’.

Which of course makes it a Statement/Theme when the story takes this “(superpowered) nature” to logical conclusions - you’ve got a weak, forgettable [nature/individuality/personality]; you’ve got a strong, flashy [nature/individuality/personality], and people can’t help but notice you. You’ve got a pleasant nature; you’ve got a intense nature. You’ve got an individuality that everyone can just tell by looking at you, and it can make people think you’re cool, or be wary of you.

Remember those ‘what career suits you’ tests given in school? Your personality is one that makes you useful to society, allowing you to make use of multiple opportunities. Your personality is kinda…disagreeable, it’s not suited for this thing. You’re not fitting in with the others, so try to suppress that personality of yours, won’t you? And then, going down the darker implications—

Your [self] is scary and troublesome, and your parents and teachers don’t know what to do with you. Your [self] is dangerous, it’s incompatible with living productively in society. Is it any wonder? You were destined to become evil, a Villain, what with a [self] like that.

Anyways, in the panels above, two people with quirks goes to All For One for help, one to lose a quirk that hinders them, one to gain a quirk that gives them power. Read from the metaphor angle, it’s two people disliking their nature, hating that their unique trait (or lack thereof) have made the life they want to lead hard or impossible; it’s two people who wished they were different, so much so that they sought out All For One to change who they are, down to the genetic level.

As much as I adore Toga, I had always thought she could’ve tried harder to suppress her quirk. How hard is it to not drink blood? How hard is it to change the way she thinks about love? Toga Himiko became a Villain because one day she couldn’t help it and decided to use her quirk, decided to be and live as she wants, make it her ‘normal’. Isn’t it selfish she acts the way she does? Couldn’t she just…not do that?

But thinking of her Quirk as not an added, extra thing to her character but rather is part of her character, inseparable from her nature, the answer to my question gets more complicated. Suppressing a personality, behaving in a way that is counter to your true self - that is hard. If you’ve ever worked retail or in the service industry in general, putting on a smiling facade and making yourself friendly and patient at all times, to a nearly inhuman limit, you know it’s utterly exhausting; soul-crushing, even.

That was Toga, for fifteen years of her life; having a quirk that disgusted her parents and told to act normal - parents who also did nothing to seek help or accommodation for their daughter, who ignored the core issues, who allowed the problems to accumulate until that tragic day.

It’s hard to live like that.

(Yes, I know, it’s not a perfect analogy and parallel to real life, and comparing ‘not stabbing’ to ‘put on a smile’ is wack; and this is only one way to interpret her character; but still, within the in-universe rules, it should be considered, imo)

Essentially, I think one can look at the villains in story of HeroAca as a sort of blatant “We Sure Live In A Society With Issues That Alienates Some People”. That’s not to say it’s bad - and my tone here is entirely me unable to help my obnoxious nature and thinking of that meme (in actuality I was like ‘!!! ohhh’ when realizing this take, but when writing this, I just. can’t) - because I think it works as one layer to peel back and examine:

Quirks as, once again, a bodily process, innate in a person, unique and as engrained as patterns in the brain that make you who you are. In HeroAca, with that manifested into tangible reality and made a world-changing phenomenon, these themes were bound to show up, and personally, i’ve been mostly enjoying the exploration of this a lot.

#nalslastworkingbraincell #Toga Himiko #sorta #i started off with one idea and then it veered #yet another point for possible disability metaphor #bnha #mha #heroaca #long post #Quirks #bnha society #unfortunately they live in a quirky society #sorry for the horrid edit panel of Toga

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gayestnerdsinfiction · 3 years

Text

Basement Blues

read on AO3

-----

Jonathan shuffled his papers together, gathering his things as students filtered out of the classroom. It had been a long day, and it was only going to get longer. He was finished teaching for the time being, but he still had a fair amount of dedicated office hours to be present for. His Intro Psych students were also approaching an exam, and he expected nervous freshmen crowding the halls for last minute study help leading up to it. Then, of course, there would be the disappointed ones following the test, bothering him about missed points and extra credit. And he had to find time for all the grading somewhere in between all his other responsibilities.

Retirement was proving to be far more work than he had anticipated.

He heard a soft ahem from the far side of the room and he turned, expecting to see a lingering student with a question or an impatient professor waiting for him to leave so they could begin their own class. Instead, Jonathan was pleasantly surprised to see Edward leaning against the doorframe, lopsided grin plastered across his face.

“Oh,” Jonathan said, startled. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Edward replied, eyes traveling the length of Jonathan’s lanky frame. “Busy?”

“No. I was just headed to my office.” He snapped the clasps shut on his worn briefcase, moving to join Edward in the doorway. “Walk with me?”

“I’d love to.” He held the door ajar for Jonathan to step past him into the hall before allowing it to swing shut behind them with a thud. He followed Jonathan through the dimly lit building, down two flights of stairs, and into the musty basement of the psychology building.

The basement held a few defunct research labs, storage closets, and a row of empty offices set aside for use by teacher’s assistants, tutors, and now disgraced scientists. They reached the end of the hall, arriving at a narrow door with no plaque.

Edward clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “They still haven’t gotten your nameplate put in?”

“I think they’re waiting to see if I make it to the end of the semester,” Jonathan muttered. He fished the key out of his pocket, fitting it into the lock and opening the door to his dingy little office. Edward slid inside and Jonathan entered behind him, setting his briefcase down on top of his desk.

Edward draped his coat over the back of a chair. “And the boiler room is—”

“Next door. Correct.” It was always entirely too hot in the cramped, windowless office that shared a wall with the building’s boiler room. Though he might be more appreciative of the temperature come wintertime.

“Christ.” He peered around the room, fanning himself dramatically. “It’s like they’re trying to get you to quit.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case.”

“I’ll have to whip up some kind of air conditioner for you,” Edward mused, perching on the edge of Jonathan’s desk. “Powerful and portable.”

“Or I could just buy one.”

Edward shot him a look. “It’ll be better if I do it,” he insisted.

Jonathan knew better than to argue. “Fine. Do what you like.”

“Always do,” he replied smugly, looking over his shoulder at the other man. “In fact,” he began, tone shifting slightly, “I see something I like right now.”

He paused, halfway through unloading a stack of worksheets into his desk drawer. “No.”

“‘No’ what?” Edward asked innocently.

“You know what.” It wouldn’t be the first time Edward had tried to orchestrate some lewd fantasy of his based on Jonathan’s status as a professor. “I have no interest in losing this job over a HR violation.”

“It’s hardly that big of a deal.”

“I said no, Edward.”

He heaved a melancholy sigh, narrowly avoiding knocking over a mug full of pens and a stack of books as he swiveled around on Jonathan’s desk to face him. “What about a little kiss?” he whined. “You won’t get fired for kissing me.”

That much was probably true. “If you had just waited for me to get home we could’ve done whatever you wanted,” he pointed out. “You’re the one who decided to show up here to attempt a little tryst.”

“But I missed you,” Edward pouted. “It’s so boring being alone around the house all day. Who am I supposed to talk to?”

Sometimes Jonathan thought Edward could speak just as easily to an empty room as he could to Jonathan. “You have friends.”

“They don’t live with me.”

“They don’t fuck you, either,” he muttered under his breath, feeling a bit of smug enjoyment as Edward’s ears flushed bright red.

“I’m sure they would if I brought it up,” Edward replied indignantly. “Besides, that’s hardly the point. I’m perfectly accustomed to going long periods of time without seeing my friends because we don’t live together and sleep in the same bed every night. I mean, you and I have been together every day for years.”

“And we will continue to be together every day,” Jonathan reminded him. “Just not all day.”

“B-but… it’s not the same.”

He sighed, taking his glasses off to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Eddie, dear, you’re just going to have to adjust. And by ‘adjust’ I do not mean ‘try to have sex with me at my workplace because you’re lonely and bored’.”

Edward scowled, holding Jonathan’s unblinking gaze. “So you’re not going to kiss me?” he asked after a few moments of tense silence.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t say you would.”

Jonathan felt a slight twinge of guilt for ignoring Edward’s request as he flattened his palms against the desk on either side of the smaller man’s body. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, face nestling into the crook of Edward’s neck. Jonathan’s lips grazed the smooth skin of his throat as he murmured, “It’s nice to see you.”

“As it should be.” Edward’s grip settled around a handful of Jonathan’s hair, tugging him away from his neck. “Kiss me properly, please.”

“I’m sorry,” he said again. He leaned forward, touching his lips to Edward’s with immense restraint. He could smell the deep musk of his cologne, the hair product mingling with the sweat beading along his hairline. Jonathan wanted to devour the man right then and there, but he limited himself to peppering him with quick, light kisses.

He felt Edward’s fingers tighten in his hair, mouth meeting his with an insistent firmness. His other hand was gripping the front of Jonathan’s shirt, holding him close. Jonathan couldn’t help but match Edward’s intensity, palms sliding up the back of Edward’s shirt as he bit down on his lower lip. This elicited a small moan from the other man which Jonathan swallowed whole, clutching at his small form.

Edward exhaled sharply against Jonathan’s lips, whispering, “I don’t know what to do with myself when you’re not around.”

Something stirred in Jonathan’s chest when he heard that, somewhere between pride and affection. If he could, he would absorb Edward into his skin and keep him there forever. But he did not let his tone betray such a thought. “You do whatever you did before you knew me.”

“But that was before,” he said, his voice so small and unsure that he almost didn’t sound like himself. “I’m ruined now. Because of you.”

Jonathan scoffed. “Oh, so this is my fault?”

“Yes,” Edward confirmed. “How dare you make me like you so much?”

“I can’t be blamed for your terrible taste in men,” he said, pressing kisses along Edward’s jawline. “If you like me, it is simply another product of your deranged mind.”

“What does that say about you, hm?” he asked, allowing Jonathan to kiss his way down his neck. “If I’m so deranged for liking you.”

“It says that I’m absolutely horrible,” he mumbled into Edward’s porcelain skin. “An awful choice of love interest.”

“You’re not horrible to me.”

“I have been,” Jonathan said softly. “I could be again.”

“But you’re not,” he pressed. “You’re a good man with me.”

He barked out a short laugh, unsure what to think about Edward proclaiming him a good man. “That’s absurd.”

“Then I suppose we’ll have to agree to disagree,” Edward said, breath hitching in his throat as Jonathan licked a line up to his ear, catching his earlobe between his teeth. “Fuck,” he sighed, fingers massaging Jonathan’s scalp. “And you’re sure bending me over this desk and blowing my back out right now is out of the question?”

“Yes, Edward, I am absolutely positive.”

#scriddler #scarecrow #riddler #jonathan crane #edward nygma #batman #dc #fic #my fic #writing #my writing

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blackacre13 · 3 years

Note

Oh pleasee continue the teacher/student au

Here's Part Five! (Lots of art references in here that should be searchable by the titles/artists included...forgive my laymen-ness when it comes to this. My background is English Lit/Communications and then Law, so this is entirely out of my ass)

Lou was practically floating on air and of course, Tammy had no issue pointing that out and teasing her mercilessly about it whenever she could.

Debbie’s course was no joke. Students were drowning in the reading and flabbergasted when Dr. Ocean put them on the spot asking prying, deep questions about the material that just skimming could never suffice. But Lou had never been exposed to so much art in so little time in her life and she was thriving.

She took on Debbie’s curveballs with expert swings, craving the twinkling eyes and knowing smile that Dr. Ocean would reward her with when she knew the answer the brunette was searching for. Even better were the days when Lou could show off a bit and flourish her answer with some added knowledge or an alternative reference on top of what Dr. Ocean had asked for. She could practically see Debbie check off invisible boxes in her head, Lou slowly and meticulously ticking off the boxes that Debbie dreamed up but hadn’t said aloud in their meeting.

Lou was ready.

It had been about two weeks of Dr. Ocean’s class in full swing and today was her interview with both she and Amita. There were ten names on the list of students competing for the TA spot and even that had been slashed from a slew of resumes that showed up shoved under Dr. Ocean’s door or left on her desk. As far as Lou knew, she was one of a handful, if not the only one, to have watched Debbie read hers personally, though she was sure she wasn’t the only student who came highly recommended from other faculty or would be impressive for the position because of her qualifications. Anything could happen.

“You’re gonna get it,” Tammy smiled, straightening out the collar on Lou’s shirt before smoothing the lapels of her blazer. The blonde had sprung for a new suit for the interview after realizing she’d already worn her usual interview suit to meet Dr. Ocean the first time and had scrambled two days ago using everything from her work-study savings to change in the couch cushions throughout the student union to throw something together.

“I shouldn’t have chosen blue,” Lou sighed, tugging at the pants.

“Disagree. Brings out your eyes. Makes you more memorable than everyone else in black,” Tammy smiled. “The gold shoes, however…”

“Non. Negotiable.”

“At least I was there to talk you out of that powder blue one,” Tammy grinned. “Can’t have you going in there looking like Bowie.”

“On the contrary, if I get this, that’s the first thing I’m racing back to buy,” Lou smirked, checking herself in the mirror one last time. “What about hair?”

“Eh, leave it,” the younger woman shrugged. “It’s you. She likes you.”

“We don’t know that,” Lou sighed, but she hoped with all of her heart that was true. On any level.

****************************************************************

“Ms. Miller?” Amita asked, poking her head out the door as Lou stood up from the chair in the hallway where she’d been waiting, nervously tapping her gold boot against the dirty carpet as she hummed under her breath.

“That’s me,” Lou smiled, extending her hand.

“The favorite,” Amita smirked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“What?” Lou gaped, picking up her bag and portfolio case.

“Shhh, our secret,” the woman grinned, her face warm and welcoming. “And I mean, you’re the only one who ever volunteers in class while everyone else cowers behind their laptop screen. I mean come on. Of course Debbie would love you.”

Of course she would. Lou’s heart started thumping faster. Louder. She wondered if Amita could hear it hammering against her chest the way she could hear the blood rushing in her ears like she was chugging mouthwash.

“Best for last,” Amita sang before closing the door and taking a seat in a chair beside Debbie, who sat behind her desk in a black dress with an open white trench coat making her look more medical than art history when it came to doctor. And Lou was obsessed with it.

“You’ve got that right,” Debbie smiled, motioning for Lou to sit. “Lou. An official welcome.”

“Thank you both,” Lou smiled, nodding at them each politely, wanting to make Amita feel as included as possible.

From there, it was a blur. Most of the questions came from Amita while Debbie seemed to observe Lou and her responses silently, watching her face like she was a human lie detector as she took in the timing and expressions between each question and Lou’s well-prepared answer. The questions were all business. Lesson plans. Future goals. Where did she see herself in the next five and ten years. What papers had she written. What was her senior thesis going to be about. Was she prepared for the rigor of the position on top of the coursework. Why was she the ideal candidate.

And then the world stopped.

“You did great,” Amita whispered as Debbie tossed Lou a wink like she’d done in the cafeteria.

“And now for my question,” Debbie smirked. “What did you bring me?”

Lou swallowed, nodding as she reached down for her portfolio case, unzipping it slowly.

“Show me what you brought for me first,” Debbie murmured encouragingly. “Then the one for yourself.”

Lou took a deep breath before handing over the painting.

“To be honest,” Lou laughed. “I don’t think you or anyone can be summed up by one piece of art alone, but for the purpose of this test, I’ve chosen an Ethel Wright. First exhibited in 1909 I believe. The woman in the painting is Christabel Pankhurst, but it’s less about the woman herself and more the movement she represents.”

“A suffragette,” Amita nodded, her eyes widening as she smiled. “Debbie, that is so—“

Dr. Ocean elbowed her as Amita fell silent and urged Lou to continue.

“She drove the force behind the women’s movement. Founded by her mother. A lobbyist, if you will. But not the snuffy Washington DC kind of today. And she wears those colors proudly. White for purity, green for hope, and purple for dignity. It was rejected for inclusion and the suffragettes had something to say about that of course,” Lou smiled.

“So why this piece?” Debbie pressed, a smile twitching at her lips.

“You’re not a solitary piece of art,” Lou shrugged. “You’re a movement. But it’s not enough to say you’re an impressionist or modernist. There’s a force behind it. A political message. A goal. It’s not just about the history of art for you. It’s about what lies beneath the mediums and the end results and the artists’ lives. You want us to know what was happening outside their window in the outside world while they were cooped up at their kitchen table painting that bowl of fruit. How they ate and slept and supported their families. And I think you’re the same. You want to give others a voice. The living and the deceased. Especially representing those who hid behind their art or let it speak for themselves.”

“Well, shit,” Amita breathed quietly.

Debbie gave nothing away as far as her reaction. “And for yourself?”

“You asked me who Lou Miller was the last time we spoke. So I’ve cheated and brought two pieces for myself,” Lou breathed shakily, offering two pieces to Amita and Debbie from her portfolio.

She nodded to the first.

“I still don’t know who I want to be, but right now, I think this is me.”

“Medusa?” Debbie frowned, her fingers running along the photograph of the statute.

“By Harriet Hosmer,” Lou nodded. “Known for a scandalous relationship with Louisa Baring. Known for a lot of sayings but mostly that she has “strength enough to stand up and be laughed at, if necessary”. She even spoke up for Medusa through her art. Often vilified. Rarely understood. Portrayed to be so monstrous when she really should represent empowerment and female rage.”

“You have snakes hiding behind that fringe, Lou?” Debbie grinned.

“Maybe,” Lou grinned in return. “But I…” Lou took a deep breath. “I relate more to how she was punished for being a victim. For desecrating someone else’s space when she was the one violated. She’s a warrior. She’s empowered. But so misunderstood.”

“And the other?” Debbie asked softly, almost a whisper now that the tone had changed, the three women understanding the implications Lou was hinting at below the surface.

“Something I discovered on my journey to being understood as a misunderstood person,” Lou smiled. “Something I needed to understand myself.”

“Le Sommeil by Gustave Coubert,” Debbie smiled, her eyes tearing a bit.

“The sleepers,” Lou nodded. “I was thirteen when I saw this for the first time. And frankly, I fell to the floor and cried. I know Coubert gets flack for painting some warped heterosexual fantasy of women in the nude, but I don’t think that’s it. I know that’s not it. The intertwining of their legs. One woman tucked into the other. The lightness and darkness of blonde and brunette, sun and moon, day and night, good and evil. It was banned from being exhibited…”

“Oh, Lou,” Debbie whispered, a sad smile on her face that wasn’t pity. It was knowing. It was Lou’s own expression reflected back.

Lou busied herself with zipping the portfolio, now empty, back up, sitting back up to find Debbie and Amita sharing a look as she sucked in a deep breath for the dozenth time that day.

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tact-and-impulse · 3 years

Text

@shepherds-of-haven, I took the ‘insatiable’ prompt in the direction of ‘thirst for knowledge...and maybe a god’.

incandescent

“Sure, manuscripts are acceptable offerings, but if you really want to pass all your exams, you have to write something interesting enough to earn Liefred’s favor.”

That was the sage advice handed down by the graduating class, so she’s going to listen to it. The academy’s incredibly traditional, and although the first round of tests is rapidly approaching, she hasn’t quite adjusted. Multiple times, her essays have been returned with blue ink, deducting points for not adhering to the rigid formatting her instructors expect. It’s very annoying, which is why she needs to excel on her exams. Besides, she’s curious as to what would count as ‘interesting enough’ for the god of knowledge and learning.

Liefred is a young god, technically an ascended mortal from the previous age. Supposedly, he was an accomplished teacher and explorer, who died young in one of the Little Wars, the civil disputes that threatened to tear apart the nation. The myths of him are sparse, mostly related to his aid and rewarding of true seekers of knowledge. There’s a statue of him, in the academy’s foyer. His figure and face are shrouded in windblown cloth, as he lifts a candle in an obvious metaphor for illuminating the mysteries of the world. It’s kind of ironic, considering his appearance is completely hidden. Maybe, they should have hired a better sculptor.

In her tiny dormitory room, there’s only the sound of her quill scritching as she transcribes the summary of her latest paper. Over the years, the caravan had uncovered strange objects, scattered throughout the usual route, but she had challenged herself with thoroughly cataloguing them. Some of the objects were similar, made of metal and cords. Others appeared to be much older and unrelated, but still unusually made. Unfortunately, the academy is disinterested, refusing to investigate further. There’s no guarantee that the god will listen to her, but at the very least, it might entertain him. Folding it into a square, she signs her name in one corner. Then, she feeds it to the lantern on her desk, watching the paper blacken and crumble into ash.

She clasps her hands together and fervently prays. For luck, for remembering what she’s studied so far, for good grades. It’s close to midnight, and too tired to open her books again, she gets ready for bed. She blows at the flame, as she usually does to extinguish it. It wavers but doesn’t go out. Another deep exhale and it’s still lit. Weird. There’s a little water left in her cup and she empties it onto the wick. The flame persists and if anything, it’s increased in intensity. She can’t look directly at the light, her eyes automatically squeezing shut.

“Do you have any of these items with you?!” The voice is masculine, and that’s definitely out of place. The male students are housed on the opposite end of the dorms. And she didn’t hear anyone knock…

She forces herself to see the intruder, and the lantern’s gone out. Instead, there’s a man, with shockingly red hair and a faint glow about his countenance. He’s not wearing the academy uniform, but a proper set of crimson robes with flowing sleeves and a gold-tasseled belt. His chiseled features break into a smile, as he taps a familiar square of paper.

“These objects you described, we called them ‘machines’, but they were dismantled for parts in the war. I tried to save what I could, to preserve them.” His gaze becomes misty, with longing.

“Uh...are you Liefred?”

“Hm? Oh, sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.” He sweeps one arm forth, then elegantly bows at the waist. He smiles benevolently at her. “Liefred, the Eternal Scholar. I received your offering, and I thank you immensely.”

Her mind spins with questions. “So, you’re the actual god. You can appear to mortals, just like that?!”

“Well, it usually takes effort, and I don’t want to show any favoritism.” He nervously rubs the nape of his neck, the simple motion reminding her that he used to be a normal person. “If any of my priests find out-”

“You got it, my lips are sealed.”

“I appreciate that.” He releases a sigh, as he stands upright again.

She grins. “It’s no problem! I’m glad you took me seriously, unlike everyone else here at the academy. I grew up wayfaring, and my clan found a number of these...machines? We had no idea what they were, let alone that they were so important to you. Did you make them?”

“No, I only spearheaded the excavations. In fact, I have no idea what they do. My peers thought they were relics, but I disagreed. I believe they’re from another realm.”

“Another realm? But you’re a god, aren’t you in charge of every realm?”

“Gods rely on faith. I only exist and am aware of the places that believe in me.” He then adds. “We gods are also not as omnipotent as you think. I may know slightly more than a mortal, but even I’m still learning.”

“Eternal scholar, indeed.” She muses, before remembering his first question. “I don’t have any of the parts on me, but I can send a letter to my clan and have them mail it to me. Unless, you have the ability to teleport.”

“That depends. Does anyone in your clan have a shrine to me?”

“No, we worship the nature deities mostly, for fair weather. But when I’m done with my exams, I can beg them to send what they have.”

“Please.” Just as he says that, he shakes his head. “No, wait. If they’ve been protecting the machines for as long as you said, I have no cause to worry. Now, onto the real business.” He positions his hands before him, interlocking and turning. The paper square is turning over his knuckles, like he can sense what’s written inside just by the deceptively idle motion. His loose sleeves drop, and she can’t resist looking at his sturdy forearms. “I’ll answer your prayer. I can’t drastically change your luck, but from what I can tell, I don’t have to. Overall, you’re prepared, you just need to believe in yourself.”

“Is that it?” She gives a hollow laugh. “Guess the academy life’s messing with my head.”

“I’ve noticed the academy’s courses are more difficult with each year.” He sympathizes and claps once, causing her paper to vanish. Back to the realm of gods, perhaps. How many essays has he saved?

“Can’t you send a vision to your priests, to cut us some slack?”

“I think you’re the first mortal to suggest that to me.” But he’s in a good mood, and he takes her ink-stained right hand. He’s warm and comforting, just like a candle. “I’ll see what I can do. That’s what gods are for, right?”

“Right.” They exchange smiles, and when she blinks, he’s gone. She does feel better though, and there’s one thing she knows for sure. The academy definitely needs to redo his sculpture; what’s the point if it doesn’t capture how attractive he is?

#shepherds of haven #shepherds of summer 2021 #a little of the gods au too

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animemangasoul · 3 years

Text

My Spot

Summery: 5 times Anakin was possessive of Obi-Wan & the 1 time Obi-Wan was just a (little bit) possessive of him too.

[Or where Anakin's possessiveness might just end up saving the galaxy]

Chapter: 1/6 - Initiate

Here's the thing.

Anakin wasn't a possessive person. He really wasn't. Contrary to what others might say about him, Anakin saw himself as quite the reasonable Jedi when it came to his relationship with the people closest to him. Was he overprotective at times? Sure. Was he a tad aggressive towards those that meant them harm? Most definitely. But possessive? No.

No way.

Anakin was not possessive.

He wasn't.

He just didn't like to share and that definitely wasn't the same thing.

Especially since what he didn't like to share was his force-given position in his chosen people's lives. And why should he ever have to give those spots up, to anyone?

Anakin Skywalker wasn't possessive because he knew where he belonged and as long as no one trespassed into that zone, he was fine. More than fine. Perfect even.

That's why…… this little Twi'lek girl, hell bent on impressing his former Master was….. Well, getting on his kriffing nerves.

Because his place in Padme's life was secure. Because his place in Ahsoka's life was untouchable. And for a time, his place in Obi-Wan's life had felt just about the same, but now……

Now he wasn't so sure anymore, and that made Anakin burn with a sense of jealousy that nearly consumed him. Frustration, anger, fear.

Deep breath. In, out.

He released his emotions into the force.

The Twi'lek girl spun in place, training saber coming down with a thud.

Anakin frowned.

Padme was his angel. The love of his life, his significant other. No one could ever take his spot in her life because he was her husband and they were in love. So while he felt tinge of annoyance whenever she directed her attention to Senators and political figures; smiling brightly, laughing that bell like shimmer of laugh…. While he did feel the tiniest bit of frustration that he wasn't able to keep her attention fully to himself, he understood.

Because Padme was his angel and he was her Knight. And nothing and no one could ever replace him in her life. So he never had to fight for his spot when it came to her.

Just like he didn't have to fight for his spot as Ahsoka's Master.

His Padawan was his Padawan and unless he died, no one else would ever be her Master. No one else would ever be her guide, her protector, her teacher and furious as the Order would be if they knew about it, her older brother. No one would replace him in Snips life because their relationship was unique. Just like his with Padme. He was Ahsoka's Master and she was his Padawan. That would never change unless he let it. And Anakin wasn't about to get himself killed off anytime soon, so he was safe there too.

That only left one person.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

His Master, well, former Master.

And wasn't that his entire problem.

He hadn't even thought much of it after his Knighting. After all, him and Obi-Wan were still stuck together majority of the time. Being The Team and all that. Which essentially meant that Anakin had never really outgrown his Master no matter how much he liked to throw his Knighthood in his former Master's face whenever he disagreed with him. But it didn't matter how much he disagreed with Obi-Wan, because Obi-Wan was his Master and he was his Master's Padawan. That was their dynamic. That was their relationship. That was Anakin's spot in Obi-Wan's life. It belonged to him……Or it used to.

Not anymore.

And yes, logic dictated that Obi-Wan had every right to take on a new Padawan. Hell, Anakin already had his own; his brilliant Snips, so of course it would only be a matter of time before Obi-Wan got a new one. A brand new, shiny-eyed Padawan. A little youngling to follow him around, nod at everything he said. Hero worshiping him no matter what he did.

It was a logical next step for Obi-Wan…… and yet……

That was Anakin's spot!

He was Padme's husband, Ahsoka's Master and Obi-Wan's Padawan.

That's how it was. That's how it was supposed to be, forever. The biggest portion of their hearts belonged to him. Those titles were his. They've always been.

Padme's husband, Ahsoka's Master and Obi-Wan's Padawan.

Always.

But there his former Master was, silently observing a tiny Twi'lek going through the basic katas of Soresu with such elegance and precision it made him smile; fingers coming up to tug at his beard. "Remarkable," Obi-Wan muttered. "Not many select Soresu as their foundation."

Anakin stiffened. "Well," he said forcing himself to relax and clap his Master cheerfully on the back. "Ever since you climbed your way to fame and glory tons of younglings have taken up Soresu, Master. She isn't the first nor the last I can assure you!"

'She isn't special,' he wanted to hiss instead. 'Everyone knows you prefer Soresu. Of course she would use it to impress you. She knows you're watching!'

But he doesn't. It sounds too bitter and cruel. And Anakin didn't want to come off as defensive or well, judgmental. He just…..

The thought of Obi-Wan patting that Twi'lek child on the head like he used to do to him after a well done mission, the thought of him giving her one of his proud little smiles or comforting her after a horrible nightmare….. The thought of Obi-Wan calling her, Padawan and sharing tea with her…… It made Anakin's stomach coil in disgust.

Why was Obi-Wan even watching these younglings practice? They had so many other relevant things to do, together. Didn't he know Anakin was stressed and needed to talk to him about battle strategies and ship inventory?

"That may be true," his friend finally said, breaking him out of his momentary brooding; and kriffin hell Anakin was becoming more and more like Obi-Wan wasn't he. "But Soresu doesn't come naturally to many. Children rarely have the patient for it," a knowing smirk. "No matter how much they wish to emulate me." Here he winked at Anakin; who did his best to send him a friendly grin back even though his mind was screaming to grab Obi-Wan and get the kriff away from this potential Padawan. "Mie'ilyuda is filled with much potential. Someone ought to nurture that talent," his Master finished.

Anakin swallowed thickly. "How old is she?"

The other man shrugged, eyes still focused like lasers on the child; and oh how Anakin wished to cover his eyes. 'Don't look,' he wanted to say. 'Don't think about it. You're mine mine mine mine.'

"She recently turned twelve."

"Oh," Anakin said, shifting his boots just enough so he could brush his shoulder against Obi-Wan, the light pressure he got back; as his Master leaned into him, making a ghost of a smile slip past his blanket mask of fake interest. "Then she still has time."

"True," Obi-Wan muttered, "It's unfortunate that we will likely be assigned off planet by the end of the week however. I would have liked to observe her more." And there was that something in his voice…..

And yeah, no. Anakin couldn't let him think about this any longer. "Snips wants to learn Jar'Kai," he blurted out. Wincing when Obi-Wan's eyebrows lifted in that silent surprise of his.

"Oh?"

'Well, might as well go all in,' he thought. 'And besides,' Anakin mused to himself. 'Half baked as it was. This little idea slowly taking root in his head wasn't half bad.'

Anakin had always been one to think on his feet anyways. "Yeah," he continued. "She has shown keen interest in it and I thought maybe you could give her some pointers?"

If Obi-Wan could look any more surprised, he probably would. But as quickly as the flicker of pleasure flashed through his eyes for being asked, it was gone instantly. Hidden once more behind a mask of polite curiosity. "I knew Ahsoka wished to learn Jar'Kai," he said slowly. "But I was under the impression you wished to teach her yourself, no?"

Anakin shrugged trying to come across as anything but suspicious. 'Yes,' he thought. 'Yes I wanted to. But this is an emergency and you're better at Jar'Kai then me anyways.'

What was a little time lost with his Padawan to prevent a leach from usurping him as Obi-Wan's one and only apprentice?

"Not really," he said instead. "Last time I tried it….." waving his prosthetic hand helplessly, he smiled ruefully at his former Master." Besides, it's always good to get the basics right before you advance to more complex forms and there aren't any Masters better than you at teaching, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan's eyes lit up at that and Anakin warmed from the inside out at the delighted expression his former Master was quickly trying to smooth away. 'Mie'ilyuda could never,' he thought smugly.

"Well then," the other man tugged at his beard, a certain level of shyness making him look almost vulnerable. "It would be my pleasure dear one."

Anakin beamed down at him, arm coming up to throw around his former Master's shoulder and quickly leading him away from the accursed practice room.

True to his word, Obi-Wan devoted his full time in training Ahsoka, with helpful inputs from Anakin here and there, and it was nice, Anakin thought. Watching his former Master gently adjust Ahsoka's grip on her saber and nodding approvingly when she got the moves right. It was really nice.

And if between the war efforts and training Snips, Obi-Wan was too occupied to pay Mie'ilyuda any mind. If by the time they heard back from the Temple, six months had already passed. If Obi-Wan's inquiry about her resulted in them being informed that the little Twi'lek girl had already found a Master, well, that was all a big bowl of coincidence now wasn't it?

"She didn't age out," he thus said in a reassuring, comforting tone to his quiet Master, hand supportively resting on his shoulder.

Obi-Wan's nodded.

"Yes, I am happy for her."

But there was no denying his former Master was disappointed he missed out on choosing her himself. A little tinge of guilt bubbled up and coiled its way around Anakin's heart, but he quickly shoved the feelings deep into the depth of his mind and told himself it was for the best. For now….

"I think I need to brush up on my defense," he said, a playful grin curling at the corner of his mouth. "Mind helping me practice?"

The surprise tendril of fondness that curled around him briefly managed to drown out the shame clawing at Anakin's throat. '

'I have to protect what’s mine.'

"Are you asking me for Soresu lessons, Anakin?"

"What if I am?"

Now the smile dancing on Obi-Wan's lips was unmistakable. "I would be honored dear one."

And as they found themselves back in the training room aboard The Negotiator. As Anakin clumsily took up his Soresu stance, biting back a pleased smile when his former Master 'Always my Master' corrected it carefully, Anakin knew he would never let anyone take his spot in Obi-Wan's heart.

It was his.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was his Master and Anakin was his Padawan.

Forever and always.

The End

I’m currently suffering through a writing block for my [You Are Wanted Obi-Wan Kenobi] fic, so here have some possessively creepy Anakin.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

#Anakin Skywalker #obi wan kenobi #anakin fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfic #fanfic #anakin & obi wan fanfic #anakin & obi wan #my spot #fanfic chapter 1 #anakin being possessive #yes it's unhealthy and hella creepy #but it's fun to write so I'm writing it

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saebit · 3 years

Text

9PM

Three boys struggling to deal with the uncomfortable consequences of being outed (disclaimer: not fluff; kind of a filler scene)

Taekyung had left school as soon as the bell for the last period rang. The rumors had been snowballing and it was getting too much to handle, even for a boy that had built himself up to not care about what other people thought of him. It was already 9PM, and Taekyung was still sitting on a ledge in an empty lot near the school.

☼

It was only 9PM, but Shinwoo was ready to go home. Studying all alone in the student council room felt strange. On a normal day, he’d sit in a classroom or the library because he knew Daon and Taekyung would be having their tutoring session here. It was obvious why neither of them would show up anymore, though. Usually Shinwoo would stay an hour longer, until the end of the evening self-learning session, but this week had been too stressful. Hearing the whispers and snickers about Daon and Taekyung felt like he was reliving his past. It hurt, like someone was sticking pins into his half-healed scars. He felt another wave of anxiety just thinking about sitting in one of his other study spots. Just because the people there weren't talking out loud didn't mean they weren't fabricating stories around the few bits of information they had heard through their phone screens. He hated how little he could do to make them stop.

☼

“Believe me, I was just being nice because he was new!” Daon ended his defense with a tone of desperation. His explanations had began as a whisper, but slowly became louder. Almost all of the students in the library were at the table he was sitting at, and he had to make sure they all heard him explain himself.

“We do believe you! It’s just that the kids in class are being weird,” Jungwoo, one of Daon’s classmates, said.

“Actually, come with us to class,” someone else suggested. “We can clear it up, can't we?” Daon was happy they all believed him, but hated this kind of attention. Going to class would be another session of twisting his words and intentions in front of a different set of eyes, hoping he was saying the right things to make them stop staring at him.

“The teacher’s gonna be there.” Daon hoped that would make them rethink their suggestion, but was scared to disagree too strongly in case they would figure out he was lying.

“I can just tell the teacher I want to go over my old homework. He'll leave the class to get it,” another student offered. It didn't work. Why couldn’t they text everyone this new development in the story like they always did? Nobody really cared if he was actually dating Taekyung or not. They were never this eager to help him out before. Everyone just wanted to be entertained, to have something big to happen so that they could be the first ones to talk about it.

Not wanting this issue to exhaust more of his energy, Daon quietly agreed with a nod and went out into the hallway, a herd of students trailing behind him as he walked towards his homeroom. He looked at the clock at the end of the corridor. It was 9PM. Maybe after this he could finally go home. He took a deep breath before the classroom door and then pushed it open.

☼

Shinwoo stepped back from the food trays he had just filled and looked around. Maybe this time he'd be able to see the stray cat. As he walked down the sidewalk to look at the other side of the bushes, his eyes passed over a familiar figure.

“Taekyung?” he called out, his walk speeding up into a jog. “How long have you been here?”

“Oh,” Taekyung muttered, taking a break from staring at the empty backpack in his lap to look at Shinwoo. “I couldn’t get to pack my bag before I left so I’m waiting for them to leave.” Shinwoo’s eyebrows raised in worry.

“Them?” he asked. Taekyung shifted his gaze away and didn’t answer. Was he waiting for the whole school to empty?

“Hey,” Shinwoo said, stepping closer to him. “Come with me.”

“Huh?”

“Let’s go back together. They can’t say anything if you’re with me.”

Shinwoo thought Taekyung would protest, but he got up without a word and began putting on his backpack. After taking a couple of steps in the direction of the school, Taekyung turned around and stared at a confounded Shinwoo, waiting for him to catch up.

☼

Daon’s words seemed to have dampened the situation with his classmates.

“Wait, dude, really?”

“I feel bad for misunderstanding you. I should’ve known it was the other guy being clingy.”

“Yeah man, sorry, we know you try your best not to hurt anyone’s feelings.”

“Did you see how happy Taekyung looked though?”

The kids laughed. Daon's chest tightened.

“I know someone in his class before and he said he's just weird like that. Seems like he’ll either completely ignore you or get obsessed with you like that.”

The teacher suddenly opened the classroom door, interrupting the boys' chatter.

“Why are you all crowding around the president? You’re allowed to get help from him but stay quiet and take turns.”

“Sorry.”

Daon's classmates scattered back to their seats, and his entourage from the library slithered out of the room, yet still stuck close to the door, not wanting to leave the lead star of the school's most exciting rumor out of their sight.

Daon stood alone at the front of the class, watching the kids type furiously on their phones, relaying what had just happened to all of their contacts as fast as they could. At that moment, he felt particularly alone. As if he didn’t matter to anyone.

The guilt of throwing Taekyung under the bus hit him like a ton of bricks. Daon had tied the person most important to him to a stake and abandoned him, just so he could keep his sanity. But how sane could he stay without Taekyung? Taekyung was the only one who really cared for him. But then again, it’s not like he would after he found out what Daon did.

“Well, then, I’ll get going guys!” Daon announced brightly, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. He was supposed to be relieved to have this problem off his hands, but it just felt like his heart had sunken even lower.

“Wait up, President, let me come with you,” someone said, closing their bag as they stood up.

“Keep up,” Daon replied as he left the room, but he didn't mean it. He was tired of selfish people sticking to him like leeches.

☼

Shinwoo heard a door open and paused at the middle of the staircase, each of his feet on different steps. Taekyung looked over in confusion, and then followed Shinwoo's gaze to see who he was looking at. Daon stood at the top of the stairs with a dejected expression, staring right back at Shinwoo.

To Taekyung, that same expression appeared unreadable and practically emotionless. The fact that Daon didn't even acknowledge that Taekyung was there didn't help. Before any of them could process anything, the door opened again.

A buzzing crowd spilled out out of the entrance and huddled behind Daon like a swarm of ants, slowly falling silent as they saw the three boys.

“Throw salt on him or he’ll bring you more bad luck,” a voice sneered.

Daon, pretending he didn't hear, quickly looked down and rushed past the two of them without a word, not wanting this to turn into another scene for people to talk about, not wanting to hurt Taekyung more than he already had.

A lump formed in Taekyung’s throat as he watched Daon pass by. Noticing Taekyung's eyes moisten, Shinwoo grabbed him by the wrist and led him up the stairs and past the group of students.

“Birds of the same feather stick together,” that same voice snickered. Shinwoo turned and glowered, intimidating some students and making them hurry down the steps.

When Taekyung and Shinwoo entered the building, people from other classes were leaking out of their classrooms. They had already heard about the trio meeting and were eager to be firsthand witnesses to an exciting face-off.

“Ignore them,” Shinwoo whispered, trying to ease Taekyung's nerves. He loosened his hold on Taekyung’s wrist in case Taekyung felt uncomfortable about everyone’s eyes on them. To Shinwoo's surprise, Taekyung snatched his hand back, gripping it all the way to the classroom.

☼

The crowd behind Daon had dispersed, but their conversations continued in the group chat. Daon glanced down at his phone, whose screen stayed lit up because of how often the notifications were coming up.

◾️yea that’s just how that kid is lol

◾️fr y’all are a little too mean

◾️k but I wanna feel safe at an all-boys school

◾️broo

◾️no offense prez ik ur not like that

◾️mby he is

◾️dude shut up hahaha

He didn’t reply to anything and turned his phone off.

☼

The air in Taekyung's classroom was stiff, as if Taekyung and Shinwoo’s entrance interrupted something. There were only a couple of students left, the others having already deserted their desks to get first-row tickets to the drama. Shinwoo stayed by the door, waiting for Taekyung to finish putting his books in.

The other boys in the room spoke to each other without words, heads occasionally turning towards each other, smirks crawling up their faces when their eyes met. One of them glanced at Shinwoo, but to his luck, Shinwoo was glaring right back. The boy's grin immediately fell, and he quickly focused back on to whatever was on his desk, but clearly felt so embarrassed that he hurriedly cleared his desk and left.

The rest of the students seemed to have been waiting for someone else to leave first. A symphony of zips filled the quiet room. Taekyung watched as everyone scuttered out the door, and then he zipped his own bag up.

“The room is so empty,” Taekyung said, looking back. “And it’s barely past 9PM.”

#light on me #fic #idk does this count?#kind of long accidentally lol #no conclusions only pain :)#was planning to post after ep9 #but it felt uncooked...#appreciate any feedback !

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mayfriend-archive · 3 years

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Totally understand if you're not up for it and fully recognize the ronald mcdonald dom/sub anon vibes which is an AMAZING post btw but like...now i'm curious, what the hell did Lord of the Flies anon DO that got him blocked for the discourse? like...i just can't wrap my head around high school lit being...uh...that inflammatory i guess?

Okay so, I'll start by saying I've had a new anon from apparently the same anon saying they are NOT the person I blocked, just a rando making the same points, but I'll answer your question anyway just to set out why this person in particular got blocked, out of the several thousand who reblogged/commented on that very successful addition to the LoTF post I made.

First off, I added the 'real life Lord of the Flies' story because I thought it was a good story. I had read about it only a couple days beforehand in Humankind and, after reading out the entire chapter to my parents who weren't very interested, I was excited that there was not only a post where it would be relevant to post, but that I wouldn't be hijacking it, as it was already rejecting the widespread interpretation taught in many schools, that humanity is inherently savage.

When making the addition, I a) did not think it would get more than a couple reblogs, because the post was already at 50k notes and I figured anyone that might be interested would already have seen it, and b) I did not know the very specific context that prompted William Golding to write the book; all I knew was that he had been a teacher at a public school (basically, the poshest schools in the country - think Eton, Harrow, very 'old money' places that pump out Conservative politicians by the bucket-load 🤢) who hated his job and the boys he taught (which, valid), and new information I'd been given in Humankind - that Golding had said to his wife one day, "Wouldn't it be a good idea to write a story about some boys on an island, showing how they would really behave?" - which had no mention of The Coral Island by R. M. Ballantyne, which I have since learned was the text that Golding loathed enough to write an entire novel in refutation of - and included what I considered a very telling letter from Golding to his publisher, in which Golding wrote of his belief that 'even if we start with a clean slate, our nature compels us to make a muck of it.' Another Golding quote that I believe portrays his belief in humanity's 'innate savagery' is that "man produces evil as a bee produces honey."

Obviously, the author of a book putting forward the case for humanity's inherent goodness was going to oppose Golding's hypothesis; Bregman not only noted Golding's literary accomplishments and beliefs, but his personal life.

When I began delving into the author's life, I learned what an unhappy individual he'd been. An alcoholic. Prone to depression. A man who, as a teacher, once divided his pupils into gangs and encouraged them to attack each other. "I have always understood the Nazis," Golding confessed, "because I am of that sort by nature." (Humankind by Rutger Bregman, p. 24-25)

I have bolded the part about him as a teacher, because it is incredibly relevant to the original post that I commented on, which begins with a comic of a teacher locking her class in to see them 'recreate' Lord of the Flies, something which the follow up comments before mine staunchly reject as both misunderstanding the point of the book, and the fact that it took the kids in Lord of the Flies a significant amount of time without adult supervision to go 'savage'. This misreading of the text is widespread enough that when Golding won the Nobel Prize for Lord of the Flies, the Swedish Nobel committee wrote that his book 'illuminate[s] the human condition in the world of today'. Whether or not they misread it is beyond my expertise - they do at least mention the factors of the outside world neglected by many when analysing the book, but still seem to believe it says something about human nature as a whole rather than just, to quote thedarkbutbeige 'British kids being rat bastards' - but Golding quite happily took his Nobel prize on this basis. Which, in fairness, I would too. It's a fucking Nobel prize.

It was with this knowledge, and this knowledge alone, that I stated in my now very, very widely read comment that Golding 'wrote the book to be a dick', in response to the tags of the person I reblogged from. As I said, I now know that Golding did not write the book (solely) because he hated the kids he taught, but as a response to The Coral Island and the general idea that clearly the British were inherently civilsed, whilst the people they colonised and enslaved were inherently savage. So. That's the background.

The anon - or rather, the person I thought was anon - was the sole exception out of dozens of replies, who instead of telling me about The Coral Island politely decided it was time to go ALL CAPS and regurgitate points already made by thespaceshipoftheseus, and implied that the only reason that the real life Tongan castaways didn't go all Lord of the Flies was because they weren't British. Not because they weren't surrounded by violence like the boys in Lord of the Flies, or there wasn't a World War ongoing, or that they weren't the upper, upper, upper crust of a class-obsessed society like Britain - but because they weren't British. A complete inversion of the concept that Golding was trying to get across - now, instead of all of humanity being equally prone to savagery in the right conditions, it was solely nationality that determined it. As in, the British were inherently savage, but nobody else was.

I, trying for humour, made the terrible mistake of replying to them.

I won't lie, I was absolutely blown away that this was real life. What I think they were trying to do was be that Cool Tumblr Person who, after somebody's been shitty on a post, goes to their blog and sees something Damning in their about/description. In an ideal world, I imagine I'd have gone nuts or done something Unforgiveable. In what I can only call the rant that followed, they stated several times that I needed to go back to high school to get some 'proper literary analysis' skills and that the story of the Tongan castaways was completely unrelated to the point at hand which. I mean, I disagree, considering that I made the addition, but I couldn't get my head around how commenting on a post that was already rejecting the thesis that the 'point' of Lord of the Flies was that humanity was inherently savage and was, in fact, about how kids - British or otherwise - learn how to function from the adults around them, and that traumatised, terrified children aren't going to create a mini-Utopia, and put forward a real life example of how without the key additions of an ongoing world war, a colonial Empire and the subsequent mindset of thinking you are 'inherently civilised' and therefore can't do anything wrong, actually, people just want to take care of each other.

A friend has since asked me why I even have 'england' in my description. To be honest, it's a timezone thing - I talk to a lot of people online who don't share my timezone, and it generally makes me feel like if I don't reply immediately because it's 3am, they have the tools to see that I'm not in their timezone and not just ignoring them. I did consider changing it to 'british' or 'uk' after it was... 'used against me', I guess, simply because I didn't want to deal with it, but you know what. No. Not gonna do that. I am from England, and I have never hid that fact. I have a tag called 'uk politics', during Eurovision I refer to the UK's act as 'us' (even if I really, really don't want to. Because James Newman slaughtered that song and it was downright embarrassing), I regularly post stuff in my personal tag about where I live (and mostly complain about this piece of shit government). If people really think my nationality makes every point I make null and void, then they don't have to follow me or interact with my posts; tumblr is big, and I am one medium-small blog very easily passed over.

I did reply to them, trying to explain the above, but their next response really just doubled down. Because I used the word British instead of English - foolishly because the posts above mine focused on Britishness, and also because although Golding was English and taught English kids, the pro-Imperialism author of The Coral Island, R. M. Bannatyne was actually Scottish so, ding ding ding, falls into the 'British' category - they then decided that I was somehow trying to pretend I wasn't English and made all the same points, before ending with this doozy:

At this point, I knew there was nothing to be gained from replying, because if we're whipping out conditions like they're pokemon cards then there's no actual conversation anymore, and I'm not going to start mudslinging like an identity politician. They made up their mind, and I figured there could be no harm in letting them think that they 'won' by blocking them instead of replying.

Until the ask. INNATE ENGLISH SAVAGERY did, I'll admit, make me think it was them, back again. I even thought up a really good response approximately 12 hours after I replied, I was that sure. Until the second message came in, and said they were just someone who came from the post and made the same point by chance. So the saga draws to a close... for now.

It may have been them, it may not have been - the anon feature makes it impossible to be sure, but as the second message I got said, we're in a heatwave. It's too hot to argue. And I've just written a goddamn essay about a book I dislike anyway.

My pasty English ass is going to go melt. If there's Disk Horse, do not tell me. I am Done™

#emily speaks #asks #anon #lord of the flies #this is long. this is so long. why is this so long #i literally got out humankind so i could quote directly. how is this my life

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dr-nero-is-god · 3 years

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i felt the urge to riff on the hive streams for a little bit since discussion came up on the hive discord, namely, holding issue with the idea that the alpha stream is inconsistent in that it is about leadership when otto is the only leader, and that it’s also possible that the alphas are just kids with specialized skills, and not actually bonded by any particular unifying element.

and, in response, @vulpix-sinistre brought up a quote from the abridged hive fanfic, that goes something like: “there are four streams: main characters, stereotypical bullies, ?, and nerds.”

and i disagree with the first two ideas, but almost completely agree with the abridged fic quote. that is pretty much how the streams work, and it is IMPORTANT that that is how the streams work.

in the end, you may conclude that the streams system still doesn’t make sense. you won’t be like “well clearly dr. nero was just logically dividing the labor of his students to reflect a specialized training program” because it’s more complicated on that. i hate to do this to y’all, but a lot of everything streams-related requires an out-of-book explanation to get where you’re going, but i can promise that i will at least try to go

first, let’s think about why h.i.v.e. would have streams at all

on the one hand, it’s inescapable to consider that one primary reason that hive has streams is because harry potter had houses, and for the same reason that percy jackson had cabins, the 39 clues had branches, hunger games had sections (or counties, idk), divergent had factions, and so on and so on. the rise of fandom spaces on the internet was concurrent with a big ya/mg boom in the post-2005 world (after twilight was published), and within those fandom spaces it became important to identify with an aspect of the fantasy world as part of your personality. that became a very marketable thing for a while, and so separating children into streams would, to a publisher, seem like a pretty solid storytelling choice.

however! the alpha stream is not the same as gryffindor house. on the one hand, it seems easy to make an alpha/gryffindor and henchman/slytherin parallel, because one group is good (relatively) and one is bad (or at least antagonistic). but it doesn’t work because while slytherin has a reputation for constituents of poor moral character (which has been largely revised in fanon), being a henchman is where you go, according to the books, if you are unintelligent and burly. it’s not a really sexy stream, is what i’m trying to say. and though there are undoubtedly some readers who would look at the henchman stream and see themselves, i think the majority of readers would likely find the henchman stream a completely undesirable stream to be in.

and, given how little importance the role of streams have after the first book, i will go out on a limb and say that mark walden knows that the henchman stream is unsexy. we aren’t interested in the hopes and dreams and motivations of the henchman stream; as we learn in book two, the ideal henchman is weak-minded and easily led—so what dreams would they even have? this leads me to conclude that while mark walden might have sold h.i.v.e. on the “there are personality-based groups in the school!” idea, he had something completely else in mind when he started writing and that, I think, is actually far more interesting.

but really, why would h.i.v.e. have streams at all

a few things about mark walden: 1) he studied english lit in school, 2) he has a background as a video game producers, and 3) he likes james bond. i know the first two things because i have read his bio and i know the third thing because i have read his books in conjunction with seeing all the james bond films. so we will call 1-3 facts.

if you are wondering what a lit degree, video game production, and the james bond franchise all have in common, then let me connect those dots: all three of those things depend heavily on the study and understanding of repetitive structure in storytelling as an interpreter and creator of meaning. each one of these fields requires an understanding of how stories and words work to create meaning in order to be successful.

and, to quote mr. walden here directly (sourced from this here link):

“So, I was playing with this cat one day and it got me thinking that those old-school Bond villains always just seemed to appear out of thin air with very little back story and that got me thinking about how they became world- conquering megalomaniacs in the first place. It was only a short mental walk from there to HIVE.”

so, imagine you’re a writer trying to tell a story about a school for villains like those in james bond—you’ve studied storycraft and you have a lot of experience in a job finding believable and compelling obstacles for people to interact with in video games. you have noticed patterns. and you need to make those patterns work for you.

enter: streams

i have watched all the james bond movies (all of ‘em) (i mean it) (just not the unreleased one yet lol) and you know what?

there’s probably just about four kinds of villains in those movies.

henchmen include the likes of jaws, oddjob, and tee hee. often physically disabled in a cinematically interesting way, these guys are the muscles and the machines in every bond film. they are the ones who tail bond as he takes long train rides and who try to personally throw him into shark tanks. they are the hands and feet of their evil masters and they don’t have a lot of emotional depth or backstory.

politicians/financiers abound in the james bond franchise because he is a government employee who often hangs out with other government employees (he has no friends). these people are like colonel rosa klebb, georgi koskov, prince kamal khan. there are a lot more, as a matter of fact, because the whole point of james bond is that they are in the cold war and even people without titles have political and financial motivations for screwing around with stuff. these types of villains depend on being well and truly embedded in an existing infrastructure or hierarchy, somebody who worked their way up from being a foot soldier or clerk into a powerful leadership position that gives them a lot of state-sanctioned trust and authority.

technicians and inventors include folks like henry gupta and boris grishenko, who use technology as their primary weapon. they are often inventors or innovators and are really good at making high-tech stuff. however, i think this stream is also a direct result of the character Q, someone who is actually on James Bond’s team and who runs an entire department of people who test sometimes outlandish gadgets for Bond to use in the field. (but we love the gadgets. they are fun.) in other words, Bond arguably has a technical stream at his disposal in MI6, which means the idea isn’t necessarily evil, but, likewise, our James Bond School also needs Qs. it’s the rules. if you are familiar with Q from James Bond at all then you understand

and that leaves us with alphas... the “supervillains.” these are the famous ones. dr. no. mr. big. scaramanga. le chiffre. blofeld. max zorin. emilio largo. goldfinger. these are the ones with the master plan, the dreams to recreate the world as they see it, the passion to see their desires to fulfillment and the resources to make them happen. they are rich. they are fancy. they are larger than life. is it weird that karl stromberg tries to incite a nuclear war between Britain and the USSR so that a lot of people can die so that he can colonize the ocean? yes. but by god, it’s fancy and dramatic, and that’s what counts.

are there other kinds of villains? oh, definitely. lots more. but you have to understand, that those kinds of villains generally don’t appear in Bond. sometimes! but it’s not a staple. for example, not many people in the bond films are motivated by revenge because each movie is kind of designed to function as a one-shot. villains don’t come back and so there is no revenge. the villain who gets the most notable reprise, jaws, actually ends up finding his true love in space.

compare: every movie is going to have henchmen. every movie has government stooges making morally questionable decisions. (almost) every movie has Q, or some gadget stuff going on. and every movie has a big bad that has to be better than the last.

so that explains why the streams are what they are.

it was a jumping-off point for mark walden to figure out what this universe might look like and how different character types need to function. consider that while the core four are all alphas and are kind of insulated as a group, the teachers all kind of roughly align with one of these groups. colonel francisco, raven, and chief lewis are henchmen types, doing on-the-ground work to get stuff done. ms. tennenbaum and the contessa are political af, they are all about the corruption and infiltrating institutional power. ms. gonzales, ms. leon, and professor pike all have technical skills that help keep an organization moving forward. and over them all is the singular alpha, dr. nero, who is coordinating and monitoring it all for his own evil plan: to run a high school.

honestly, dr. nero’s hive idea operates just like a james bond villain plot! it works, or it does when pitching the idea. the problem is that the books continued after the pitch did, and with worldbuilding came some complications. namely, the fact that the megastructure of james bond villainy does not replicate well into a small friend group on which the narration focuses. so let’s return to the question presented at the beginning:

how can alphas really be alphas when not everyone on the field trip can be a mastermind?

i’m gonna give this to you in two ways. one, the way i personally interpret it as an in-universe explanation, given the background premises we have already established. and the other, why the stream system kind of ruins the structure it sets out to create.

so, for me, the alphas can be alphas because there is more to villainy than being a mastermind and there is more to being a mastermind than being in charge. as i think about it, this novelization is actually the backstory for every one of the students, who will go on to do great and scary things. they will manage big projects and come up with interesting ways to terrorize the British government, because that is what James Bond villains do (and James Bond does canonically exist in their universe). much like your actual teenage years, this is not the main event.

as students, the core four need to learn to do a little bit of everything. you gotta learn some lock-picking, that’s essential. everyone has to be able to climb a rock wall. it’s the rules. and everyone needs to be able to do some programming. that’s just the way school is. though everyone has a different personality and a different way of looking at the world, their education has to cover the basics because the fact of the matter is, none of them are villains yet. will they become one? that remains to be seen. but they are being given the tools to become the greatest villains if that is something they choose.

the main problem that remains when holding this attitude is that the specialized skills of otto and his friends might be better suited to other streams, in which case, what is an alpha anyways?

here’s the facts: if everyone were assigned to a stream by talent, then there wouldn’t be an alpha stream.

franz? political/financial stream.

nigel? laura? otto? technical stream.

shelby? wing? henchman stream.

you can debate me on the specifics of those assignments, but the point is this: all the other streams are based on hard skills. franz can manage a ledger and that is a financial skill. laura can build a computer from scratch and that is a technical skill. wing can do martial arts, and each martial art is a physical skill that can be taught and performed in a measurable level of proficiency.

the idea of being a “mastermind” is a much softer skill—which is to say, there’s no one recipe that will make it work. my manager at work has coached me by saying that leadership is often about having a “style,” and working at it that way. leadership requires interpersonal flexibility, being able to stay organized and to make important decisions rapidly, it is about being able to prioritize and delegate. and it’s very much open to interpretation, every day, all the time.

let me tell you something else about james bond: there is a lot of classism, racism, and sexism embedded into every aspect of those films, but that goes for double when it comes to the villains in the show. to vastly oversimplify that very concept, it shows up in the bond films like this: henchmen are working class folks, the villainous equivalent of “the help,” and the supervillains are (usually) rich and glamorous and powerful. henchmen are uneducated (read as: stupid) and ugly and poor. no one cares if they die. (there’s more complexities, as always, but this essay isn’t actually about james bond so we’ll fast forward through My Opinions to the end)

the problem with replicating james bond in your villain school universe is that some of the biases of the james bond universe get replicated in there, too. poor and uneducated folks get turned into disposable henchmen whose lives are irrelevant. people who are educated and talented get fast-tracked to a more glamorous and interesting stream that will catapult them to the top of the ladder as soon as they graduate. if you look at the dialect with which block and tackle are written, they are clearly meant to be seen as a different social class than otto, despite the fact that otto is coming from basically nothing. and we understand that when otto graduates, he will be able to do basically anything that he wants to at all.

so, if you’re asking why wing has a role in the alpha stream when he doesn’t seem as leader-y as otto, there’s a simple answer: because dr. nero believes that wing can be more.

the climax of book one is dr. nero explicitly telling otto, wing, laura, and shelby that they are in his school because he believes in them and he wants to see them grow. they are given an elite status other students do not have despite the fact that they have just literally tried to escape. as we see in the case of duncan cavendish, the main way to get on that highway to a guaranteed career is to convince him that you’ve “got it.” for those who are not believed in, there is no way to make up for the special grooming. you’re stuck with the stream you’re placed in, doomed (perhaps) to be a second-in-command at best.

is all this intentional? probably not. but it is implicit in the structure of the story and, alas, that’s the way it is.

all i can think to say in conclusion is that while the stream system tends to replicate some of the unfair and classist realities present in other media and the world we live in, i think part of the reason we read h.i.v.e. is because the alpha stream is so appealing. imagine! you are competent and you have a desirable, specialized skill as well as a proficiency in many general skills and you are certain you are going to do good things—and all because someone believes in you. to receive someone else’s support and confidence can be life-changing. the magic of h.i.v.e. is that yes—lives are changed and ordinary, boring people were elevated to the level of supervillains. we are only left to wonder, are they the only people who deserved that honor?

#meta #spoilers #streams #alpha #henchman #political/financial #technical stream #technical #james bond #hive #h.i.v.e.#higher institute of villainous education #the higher institute of villainous education #otto malpense #max nero #streams post #musings

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