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gale-gentlepenguin · 3 years

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ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 33

Sorry this got delayed for longer than expected. I had a lot of things hit me like a truck (and distractions). Hopefully you all enjoy this. Please comment your thoughts on the chapter. And if you really liked it, Reblog it. Thats the best way to get others to see it.

(Master Post)

_______________________________________________________________________

Nathalie cautiously walked into the school, careful to not stand out. She needed to be quick and quiet, she didn’t know how many akuma were lurking in the building. Hawkmoth has akumatized a good chunk of the student body at this school, so expecting at least a dozen within such a short time frame wouldn’t be out of the question. She was relieved that the akuma alert hasn't gone off, which means no one has caught on yet.

The assistant moved down the hall, stopping once she noticed two akuma heading down the hall. One she recognized as the akuma dark owl, and the other as Lady wifi. Both akuma wearing masks that covered their faces. It was clearly the handiwork of Masquerade. She quickly moved into the nearest room to hide.

“That was close.” Nathalie whispered.

“What was?” a voice from behind her called out. Causing the on edge assistant to jump.

She looked to see it was not an akuma, but an adult with a perplexed expression.

“Nothing, what room is this?”

“This is the nurse’s office, I’m Nurse Angela. How can I help you?”

Nathalie took a sigh of relief. Seems that the nurse hasn’t noticed the akumatized individuals in the hall. Which means that no one has figured out there are akuma active.

“I am fine, I simply stepped into the wrong room.” Nathalie eased herself. “Could you tell me which way Ms. Bustier’s classroom is?”

“Oh its down the hall, make a left and it’s the last classroom on the...”

“Nurse! My ice pack melted!”

The nurse took a calming sigh.

“One moment ma’am. I have a student in here.”

Angela quickly moved to fetch more ice for her patient to help her out.

“Chloé?” Nathalie spoke aloud, recognizing the voice.

Nathalie moved into the room and took notice of the mayor’s daughter watch the nurse impatiently as she waited for a fresh icepack.

“Wait, your Gabriel Agreste’s assistant. Natasha.”

“Nathalie.” The assistant corrected, clearly annoyed.

“Why are you here? Does Adrien have some photoshoot or something?”

“Or something. Now why are you in here?”

The question struck a nerve with the blonde, causing her annoyance to turn into anger.

“Better question, how could you allow Adrien to date that loser!?”

Nathalie blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“She is going to bring down the Gabriel brand. That nobody has no right to be dating Adrien. Does his father know about this?”

Nathalie felt a twinge of annoyance. But kept it in. She remembered the akuma that were out in the hallway. She would hate to have them run in here just from the commotion.

“I think you should keep it down. This is not an issue that concerns you.”

“Doesn’t concern me?! I am Adrien’s childhood friend. You bet your poor dye job it concerns me!”

“I must insist you be quiet.” Nathalie repeats. “This is not the time or the place for such meaningless complaints.”

“Like I am going to listen to Gabriel Agreste’s rebound chick.”

That caused Nathalie to snap.

“Listen here you spoiled brat! There are akuma running the halls and I am trying to find Adrien to get him out of here before things get worse. If you don’t shut your mouth in the next two seconds. I will throw you out there and let them tear you apart!”

Chloé felt her eyes go wide at the out of nowhere outburst. It took her a second to process what just happened. Did she really get told off by this nobody?

“You can’t just…”

Nathalie suddenly fell to the floor. She barely used her hands to catch herself.

“S***, not now.” She mumbled over gasping breathes. Her body was failing on her again. She did not need this of all times. She felt her consciousness fade.

The nurse turned around once she heard the sudden thud.

“Oh dear.”

She rushed to the collapsed woman’s side and helped her up.

“Chloé. Help me get her onto the bed.”

“You want me to…”

“This is not the time for questions! Help me get her on the bed now!” Angela commanded.

Chloé’s protests were snuffed out by the nurse and she moved to help get the woman on the bed.

The nurse quickly checked her for a pulse. Thankfully she had one.

“Okay, she has a pulse. She is breathing, but her body just collapsed. A fainting spell?”

Angela started checking the assistant to make sure there was nothing else wrong.

Chloé watched as the nurse examined Nathalie. Her previous anger fading as she sees the woman that just snapped at her just drop.

“Okay… seems that it is over exhaustion. It’s not uncommon in people who work long hours with demanding jobs. But I have never seen a case like this. I can’t put my finger on it, but there might be another medical issue involved in this. When she wakes up, she should get checked into a hospital for a deeper dive into whatever she has.” Angela explained.

“So… she will be alright?”

“Well she is exhausted. She will need to rest for a bit.”

“Well at least she didn’t die. I can still be mad at her for yelling at me because there is an akuma and junk here.”

“Well you shouldn’t hold a… did you just say there is an akuma?”

“That’s what she was yelling at me about before. Weren’t you listening?”

Angela felt herself go pale.

“Oh that is not good at all. We need to alert the authorities.”

Chloé picked up her phone and started texting.

“Don’t you think you should use that to call the cops.”

“Im texting my dad. He will have the cops here faster.”

Angela remembered that the annoying spoiled blonde in front of her was the mayor’s daughter and for the first time, was happy that the girl was here.

_______________________________________________________________________

For what is a teen, but a pile of hormones and insecurities.

Masquerade delighted as she watched her classmates stare at her. They all were trying so hard to be strong, but she could feel their emotions, they were afraid. She knew that taking the most emotionally secure one in the group would rattle them..

She noticed the teens rushing to their pockets to get their phones.

Masquerade touched the cellphone charm on her bracelet and all of the phones started showing they had no signal.

“Nice try, but no calling for help.” Masquerade commented.

Even the chill Nino couldn’t maintain a steady calm in front of her with that little display. She now removed any chance of calling for help or setting off that akuma alert system. Did she have access to other powers? What kind of monster did Hawkmoth turn her into?

“I’ll save you for last Nino. I want you to watch closely.” She flipped her hair, taunting the cap wearing teen.

The masked theme akuma smiled as she moved her hand, as if deciding on who would turn next.

“Now we know who will be last, but who will be next?” Masquerade asked, watching as her bracelet was glowing. The class was a gold mine of akumas. It was not a matter of how, it was a matter of which one.

“You don’t have to do this Lila.” A soft higher pitched voice pleaded.

The class turned their attention the short haired blond with a fondness for pink.

“Rose…” Juleka spoke up in worry.

Masquerade focused her attention on Rose.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“We know you are hurting. We know that you lied to us and did some nasty things… but that doesn’t have to define you!”

Masquerade found herself a bit surprised at the statement.

“If you are willing to stop all of this, we can help you. We can work through all of the things you’ve done. If we can throw a party for Chloé, we can certainly give you another chance.”

Rose stuck out her hand, a soft smile on her face.

Masquerade took a moment to process before speaking.

“Wow… I had no idea you felt this way.”

Rose walked forward.

“See Lila, we can all get along if…”

“You’re so incredibly depressing.”

Rose stopped.

Masquerade’s mouth contorted to a twisted glee. Her charm bracelet glowing brightly as she held her hand up to Rose.

“You always force a smile even when things are downright miserable. You’re terrified of being sad, so you paint this image of a fantasy land filled with stuffed animals and storybook characters. You realize all of the awful things around you yet you simply push it back, push it away as if it can’t harm you if you don’t acknowledge it. You can’t even acknowledge the emotional problems and insecurities of the people you care about because you know you can’t help them even if you did address them, so you give them some encouraging saccharine speech about pushing through, because that’s all you can really do. I have never seen anyone so deep in denial. One day you will wake up and realize that all of that delusional thinking will have pushed everyone away from you as you sit in plushy made prison of your own design.”

Rose felt her lip quiver.

“N-No. That isn’t true. I can …” Rose stumbled over her words.

But before she could say anymore, a mask flung onto her face and Rose shifted into Princess Fragrance, the green skinned perfume super villainess.

“Rose! No!” Juleka cried out.

Masquerade grinned as a perfume bottle charm now adorned her bracelet.

Juleka tried to get the mask off of Rose, but the newly made akuma pushed her aside and jumped to her master’s side.

“Oh, poor Juleka. Don’t worry. I’ll have you join her.”

Masquerade pointed her hand at Juleka.

“Oh wow, social anxiety and a fear of being forgotten. How original. Is that why you dye your hair purple and wear those gaudy clothes? You want to stand out so that you don’t get dismissed like the wallflower you are? Your bad luck with photos really puts a damper on your dreams of modeling. But that’s probably for the best, considering you are constantly overwhelmed. You don’t have the guts to do anything you want, so you just do your best to keep quiet and pray people will still notice and care about you.”

Juleka felt her anger shift to sorrow as she tried to speak up, but sure enough. Masquerade sends another mask out and it makes contact with Juleka.

The purple haired teen shifts into the image replicating akuma, Reflekta. Who after changing moved next to Princess Fragrance. A compact mirror charm appears on Masquerade’s bracelet.

The class couldn’t help but feel the despair in the room. The large drummer tried to keep his small girlfriend behind him as a means to protect her, but unfortunately, Masquerade noticed.

“Oh Ivan, sweet misunderstood Ivan.” Masquerade taunted. “You really think I don’t see what you are trying to do.”

Ivan kept his eyes focused.

“You aren’t turning me into one of your monsters. You already turned my bandmates into them, you aren’t turning me!”

The akuma laughed.

“Monster? I don’t need to turn you into an akuma to do that. The rest of the world already sees you as one.”

Ivan felt a pang in his heart.

“No… no they don’t.”

“Even your own girlfriend is scared of you. You’re a big brute that is loud and bumbling. Ever since your growth spurt, you could see everyone look at you differently, like you were some kind of large freak. But what’s worse is that you’re afraid that everyone else is right. That you a large rage filled monster, undeserving of love.”

“Don’t listen to her. She is lying to you.” Myléne pleaded as she tried to pull her boyfriend out of the quicksand trap of emotion that the akuma was setting up.

“I am not a monster.” Ivan spoke, more to himself than to masquerade.

The akuma capitalized on that moment of weakness and a mask made its way to Ivan, transforming him into his stone giant akuma form, Stoneheart.

Myléne looked in horror of her akumatized boyfriend and took a few steps back. Her fear of remembering this form taking hold.

“Oh, that works too.”

Masquerade flings a mask at Myléne, transforming her into her more monstrous akuma form, Horrificator.

“I was planning on playing on her fears about how she is afraid to face the real world and her insecurities about losing Ivan, but that worked better.”

The two new akuma mindlessly made their way to Masquerade’s side. A piece of paper and a button charm appeared on Masquerade’s bracelet.

The joy the akuma attained from watching her classmates squirm was unnerving. And it was only going to continue.

_______________________________________________________________________

“So, you are certain you left it there Kagami?” a woman with a cane asked sternly.

“Yes mother, I remember I left my text book in the locker room during fencing practice. I was studying between breaks.” Kagami answered. She felt a bit ashamed she had misplaced her book. But was relieved her mother was fine with giving her a ride there to get it. Even if it meant she was late to her lessons.

“This is not an excuse to see anyone, is it?” Her mother questioned.

“No mother, I will be in and out quickly.”

“Very well. I need to make a quick stop at the bank. So be sure to be outside waiting when I come back.”

“Yes mother.”

Kagami got out of the car and the car drove off.

“Well, I could stop by to say hello to my friends if I am quick with getting my book.” Kagami smiled a bit as she was about to make her way into Collège Françoise Dupont.

But before she did, she heard the sound of a bike approaching, she turned to see the cyclist stop short of her.

“Made it.” He said with relief as he took off his helmet to reveal familiar blue dyed hair.

“Luka?”

The cyclist looked and noticed his new fencer friend.

“Kagami? What brings you here? I thought you didn’t go to this school.”

“I don’t, I come here for fencing practice, I left a textbook here and was planning on retrieving it. You don’t go to this school either. So what brings you here?”

“My little sis grabbed the wrong lunch bag, then texted something about an akuma being in the school. I wasn't able to reach her after that. I plan on getting her out and letting the heroes handle the akuma.”

Kagami blinked.

“There is an akuma?”

“Apparently.”

The fencer smiled.

“Alright, let’s get in and try to evacuate everyone. Then I can grab my book.”

Luka looked at the determined girl and smiled. He didn’t even say he would help her. But he knew he would.

“So, what’s the plan?”

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Adrien stared down the Volpina duplicate. He was not going to let it pass him and get to Marinette. He realizes that if he had been the one to run off, he would have been able to transform quick. If this didn’t work out, Ladybug might have to take on Lila solo, and that was something he was worried about. If Ladybug is on her own and she gets overwhelmed, who would be able to protect Paris? He needed to figure a way to give this Faux Fox the slip and fast.

“It would have been better if I snagged both of you, but master will be more than happy with your capture.” The sentimonster smiled as it moved to grab him.

The blond jumped back, but the difference in speed was far too great for him to overcome. And he was quickly pinned against a wall. The sentimonster shifted forms, looking similar to the owl akuma that Adrien was familiar with.

“What the…”

“I am not bound to one form. I can shift my form and access to any akuma’s power set that my master has under her control.”

Adrien realized he was far outmatched. If it came to it, he would need to transform. He wished there was some way out of this mess.

But as if the heavens above heard him, a yo-yo wrapped around the waist of the buff owl.

“What the ...”

The sudden pull from the yo-yo made the sentimonster lose it’s grip on Adrien and get flung to the other wall, dazing it.

“Looks like I made it just in time.” A spotted heroine stated with confidence.

“Ladybug!” Adrien called out in relief.

Ladybug rushed to his side.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m a lot better now.”

Ladybug helped the teen up from the ground.

“Lets’ get you somewhere safe first, handsome boy.”

The blond felt his cheeks turn red at the comment.

The sentimonster managed to get back up, it shifted forms, to a smaller form. One that made ladybug experience a chill go down her spine as she saw the roller blades and familiar helmet.

“Timebreaker… We need to hurry!”

Ladybug started rushing with the teen. With the speed of the akuma, she knew Adrien wouldn’t be fast enough to avoid it on his own. So, she quickly picked him up in her arms as they fled.

“Timebreaker? But isn’t that what Alix turned into when she was akumatized.” Adrien inquired as Ladybug ran down the hallway.

“It means that things are getting a lot more dangerous.” Ladybug answered. She knew that timebreaker appearing could only mean that Lila has made her way to the classroom, and this was going to be one of the toughest akuma battles yet. She needed to get Adrien to safety and then make her way to the classroom, hopefully save her classmates before they were all turned into her masked servants.

She made a quick movement into the bathroom. Standing at the door, prepared to fight the akuma if it noticed their quick duck into the washroom.

Ladybug listened closely as she heard the sound of skates roll up to the door. Her eyes went wide as she realized the it figured it out.

“You really think you can hide from me!”

The Timebreaker imposter kicked in the door ready to attack, only to see no one was in the room.

“Like I said….”

“You!” Kicked the first stall door open.

“CANT!” The second stall was kicked open.

“HIDE!” The last one was open, and all of them were empty.

The sentimonster growled in frustration.

“Seems I was mistaken.” The sentimonster grumbles, skating off to find the two.

As the door closes, Ladybug and Adrien sigh in relief. They had taken to hiding over the small statured sentimonster’s line of sight. Ladybug;s yo-yo making for a secure web to hold them up.

Ladybug undid the secure snare and lowered them both to the floor.

“Thanks for the save Ladybug.” The blond smiled. His face a bit red being so close to Ladybug.

‘Easy there Adrien! Remember who you are dating now!’ He mentally told himself.

“N-no problem.” Ladybug smiled sweetly. “Now, you stay hidden and I will take care of this crazy shapeshifter.

“Wait Ladybug!”

Ladybug paused.

“Yes? Is there something…”

“My girlfriend is out there. Well I mean… dating since we didn’t officially say girlfriend and… Look She is out there and that akuma thing is also after her.”

Ladybug’s eyes went wide at that statement.

He called me his girlfriend! Inner marinette screamed. Inside her head, but Ladybug kept her face from showing it. Though a small smile was growing despite herself.

“So the akuma is targeting someone else? Why wasn’t she with you?”

“She went to get help, I was trying to hold off the akuma so she could escape. The akuma was more focused on me thankfully, and you showed up just in time.”

“Oh? And who is the Lucky girl?” Ladybug questioned, a bit bubbly but doing her best to hide it.

“Her name is Marinette, she is around your height and she has these cute …”

“No need for more description, I know her. Well, she is a cute one. Aren’t you lucky?” Ladybug teased a bit.

“I really am.” He smiled sweetly. He remembers that Ladybug did pick Marinette to be a temporary hero, so she should know who she is. Though he isn’t supposed to know that.

Ladybug put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your ‘girlfriend’ is safe. I’ll also be sure to tell her you were worried as well. She will be happy to hear that.”

Adrien felt himself in a bit of a bizarre situation, was ladybug helping him by being a wingwoman for him? He couldn’t help but find it a mix of ironic and funny.

Ladybug rushed out of the bathroom, realizing that chat noir was rubbing off on her a bit, teasing Adrien like that.

“He called me his girlfriend.” She smiled as she thought this to herself. Though she knew the task at hand was important and would dwell on this happiness much later.

Adrien watched as she ran off, feeling a bit flustered.

“Really needed to let her know you were off the market now.” A voice from his pocket teased.

“I panicked.” Adrien felt his face flush.

“Seemed Ladybug was happy for you. That’s good.” The cat kwami popped out of his pocket. Hiding the fact, he knew a lot more than he let on.

“We do have more important things to worry about. We have an akuma and sentimonster to stop. “

Adrien punched his fist out.

“Plagg. Claws out!”

_____________________________________________________________________________

Masquerade laughed, loving how she was turning everything back on her classmates.

When something smacked into her head.

“Ugh!” She grunted as she grabbed the metal object that flung into her.

“What the hell?!” Masquerade’s eyes focused to see it was Max’s ai companion, Markov that head-butted her.

“Your actions have far exceeded what is acceptable.” The robot responded.

“Markov get away from her. She will akumatize you!” Max called out in worry.

“Akumatize the toaster? How could I akumatize…” Masquerade muttered until she noticed her bracelet glowing.

“Oh, you have got to be f***ing kidding me. You akumatized a sentient rice cooker but not Marinette?! The f*** hawkmoth!?”

“I will have you know that I am an advanced artificial intelligence.”

“And you despise that.” Masquerade points out.

“Quite the contrary, I find my intellect exhilarating.”

“But you already calculated it, the two logical conclusions. That you will either become obsolete and be tossed out for a newer model, or you will advance and grow until you outlive Max.”

Markov paused. He could not come up with a response. The robot felt stumped byt the statement.

“Too easy.”

“Markov!’ Max cried out as a mask landed over his visual face plate. Shifting him into his angry red coated akuma form, Robostus.

Max moved to get to his robot. But Kim held him back.

“It’s too late man.”

Max growled at the akuma.

“Damn it Lila, why are you doing this? You must know that Ladybug and Chat noir will arrive ready to stop you. The chances of you beating them are 0%.”

Masquerade lifted her hand as her bracelet began glowing again.

“Oh. smarty pants Max, the one with all the formulas and the data. You have to be the smartest one in the room or else you have nothing.”

“I know what you are trying to do. It won’t work.”

“Out of everyone here, you have the biggest inferiority complex. Your need to be the best at what your ‘good’ at. Robotics, video games, data analysis, and of course, calculations. You need to show to everyone how smart and skilled you are, because the moment you don’t, they realize there is no personality underneath.”

Max tried to focus on not letting the words get to him, but Masquerade knew exactly what to say to cut him down.

“Go on Max, tell them how to ‘Beat’ my power. Or do you not know?”

Max felt his lip quiver, he couldn’t stay strong. He didn’t know how to beat it. He could feel the horror of not knowing slip into his mind. She had nailed his insecurities like an expert marksman.

“I thought so.”

A mask flew and smacked onto Max’s face. He dropped to the floor only to get up in a black and green spandex suit, His akumatized form, The Gamer.

A game controller charm appeared on her bracelet.

A sudden squeak caught her attention.

Masquerade turned her head to see an orange haired girl trying to sneak away.

“Sabrina, I had forgotten you were here. Just like everyone else usually does.”

Masquerade was about to really lay into her, but a book out of nowhere smacked her in the face.

It was the athletic dare maker himself, Kim.

“I am done sitting around and letting you turn everyone into masked zombies.” Kim exclaimed.

Nino felt himself zone back in as Kim called it out. Now was not the time to lose his head. He needed to focus. Masquerade didn’t mention Adrien, so maybe his best bro was still out there. Maybe they can get to the heroes and have them fix this. But first, he needed to escape.

“Kim’s right. We won’t let you turn anyone else anymore. Sabrina get help!” Nino exclaimed.

“Like she is going to… HEY!”

A waste basket covered the villainess as she stumbled back, with the basket stuck to her head. While she had been too busy gloating, she had failed to notice the tomato haired artist sneak behind her and the mindless akuma line up. He had slammed it on as hard as he could to ensure it was difficult to remove.

“Let’s Go!” Nino announced as the rest of the class rushed to the door. Time breaker being the only one actively ordered prepared to stop them.

“Don’t let her touch you.” Sabrina spoke as they tried to figure.

Kim grabbed a chair and used it like a make shift battering ram in order to keep Timebreaker at a distance, but the akuma reacted quickly by pulling the chair away and kicking the teen in the gut with her roller blade. Sending him flying back into the other teens.

“Ugh! That really was gross!” Masquerade retched as she pulled the waste bucket off her head.

“Well, I hope you enjoyed your little escape attempt. Because you won’t get another chance.”

Masquerade pointed at Kim.

“Since you started this little thing. I will change you next.”

Kim looked at the Akuma with a smile.

“Good luck with that. You don’t have anything that could make me feel gloomy.”

Masquerade’s bracelet started glowing again. She was clearly ready to speak, but stopped herself.

“… Wait.. THAT’s your biggest insecurity?”

“I don’t have an insecurity.”

“You are afraid everyone will realize you’re not smart.”

“What? No, I am not. I am plenty smart. I watch the Alternate Truth all the time.”

“Everyone already knows you’re an idiot.”

Kim looked at the akuma with shock.

“That’s not true! People do think I’m smart. Chloé has called me ‘Genius’ multiple times.”

Masquerade didn’t know how to respond to this.

“I… do you not know what sarcasm is?”

“Of course, I do.” Kim lied.

“Just … just wear the mask you moron.”

Masquerade sends a mask to attach to Kim.

The swimmer did his best to resist but felt himself succumb to the mask and become the dark winged akuma, Dark Cupid. He joined the rest of the akuma in the lineup, and a bow and arrow charm appeared on Masquerade’s charm bracelet.

“I actually feel dumber because of those last few minutes. Okay next one.”

Masquerade points at the Artist.

“Let’s bring the mood back with you Nathaniel, what is your biggest insecurity?”

“Listen Lila, there is still a chance to stop what you’re doing.”

“You’re afraid of opening yourself up to others. That’s the reason you didn’t want to join Soulmate searcher despite Marc’s insistence. You were afraid of putting out all that information on yourself and seeing that you and Marc aren’t meant for each other. You can only express yourself with art. And you know that it’s only a matter of time before he realizes your issues and leaves.”

Nathaniel wanted to dispute the statement, but felt his words die in his mouth.

“Such a pity Nathaniel, I’ll make sure to go after him once we are done here.”

“No! Don’t you…”

Nathaniel tried to say more, but a mask latching onto his face interrupted him.

The artist transformed into his heroic yet villainess akuma form, Evillustrator. Just like the others, the recent akuma joined the line.

A tablet pen charm appeared on Masquerade’s bracelet.

“And next up is Sabrina. I was interrupted earlier. But don’t worry. I have everything I need to get you.”

Sabrina tried to put on a brave face and covering her ears.

“Oh, you think It won’t work if you cant hear me.”

Masquerade’s bracelet glows.

“You don’t get it Sabrina, I am not just saying mean words, I am reading your greatest insecurities. And I am projecting them out.”

Sabrina could hear Masquerade’s words, as if they were in her mind. She couldn’t escape them. Her hands dropped.

“Very good. You learned how futile it is. It’s rare that you have someone’s attention like this. You always never stood out much, but you never minded that, your biggest insecurity is that no one will want to spend time with you. That’s why even with Chloé being mean and nasty, you like the fact that someone is willing to talk to you. You would accept humiliation and embarrassment over being alone. It’s truly pathetic.”

Sabrina felt tear stream down her face.

“Sabrina don’t let her get to you…”

“Im sorry. I don’t want to be alone.”

The mask flew onto Sabrina’s face. But something happened. She wasn’t changing right away.

“What’s this?” Masquerade commented.

“It seems you have more than one akumatizable form? Alya had something similar, but I was ‘missing something’ to access the other one so I didn’t bother with that. But this is different.”

Masquerade felt a malicious glee take hold.

“Why not give you both.”

Nino watched as the masked Sabrina shifted into a costume that looked familiar to him. The power stealing Miracular.

But suddenly, she vanished from his sight. Only to then appear with the other akuma.

“Invisibility and power stealing. Sabrina you maybe my favorite servant yet.” Masquerade exclaimed. Two charms appeared on Masquerade’s bracelet, vanishing cream and a tonfa.

Nino took a look at the line up of akuma.

“Dude… this is so not cool.”

Masquerade started to walk towards the DJ with a confident stride, stopping short, looking down at him. An aura of malice emanating from her presence.

“Don’t worry Nino. You’ll be joining them.”

_______________________________________________________________________

(End of Chapter)

So all the pieces are coming together. Will Nathalie be okay in a school filled with akuma? Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to fight the army of akumatized classmates that Masquerade has been building? Will Kagami be able to get her text book. Will Kim learn that everyone loves him because he is a himbo? Find out by staying tuned.

Thanks for reading and be sure to comment if you want to see the next part. I am an author and live off validation.

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superhero--imagines · 3 years

Text

Part 1 Here! / Part 2 Here!

A/N: I think The next post will be the last one for this series!

“Did you...have fun tonight?” The way Dick haltingly asks causes laughter to bubble out of your mouth

“I can say that was nothing like any family dinner I’ve ever seen-“

And if that isn’t the truth, for one - even though you’ve heard of all of Bruce Wayne’s adopted children, you didn’t think there would be so many.

Dick’s the oldest, well officially anyway. Barbara Gordon, as in Commissioner Gordon’s daughter, was at dinner too. Apparently she and Dick had a brief stint where they dated. You’re guessing it was before Dick realized he likes boys - or maybe he likes both? You’ve never expressly asked him about using sexuality.

He’s got three little brothers, the youngest and the second oldest seem to have the highest predisposition towards violence, mostly to each other. And then the second youngest, Tim, he seems to be barely held together, mostly through caffeine and anxiety.

Cassandra from class was there too, as well as Stephanie, which was nice to see. They ducked out halfway through, which should have been your queue to duck out too.

Unfortunately you didn’t, which resulted in a rather poorly placed tomato soup stain at the edge of your dress’s hem.

“I like your brothers though” you say with a smile. You did like his brothers. The youngest, Damian, stared at you for seven very long minutes, before saying-

“How do you feel about animals?” When you told him you loved them he seemed pleased. Also, as a college student, you vibe with Tim. Though you do think someone should cut him off and have him switch to herbal tea. Jason seems cool enough, he just looked at you for a second before giving Dick a wolffish grin.

“Alfred was nice too, and it was fun seeing your- uh...Bruce again” You almost called Bruce his Dad. Bruce is nice, but he’s still a bigot. It was nice meeting Alfred, who showed you many pictures of a nine year old Dick Grayson, most of which were him doing acrobatics around the house. Honestly you thought it was adorable, but you put an end to it since Dick was blushing so fiercely that you thought he might combust.

It really was a lot of fun.

You shiver, the cold night air brushing against your bare arms. You’re standing in front of your building, saying your final goodbyes until you scamper off to your apartment, getting ready for another week of classes.

“Here, take my jacket-“ He’s already tugging it off. Before you can protest, it’s settled over your shoulders. The effect is almost instant, tendrils of warmth seeping into your shoulders and upper body.

It smells like him, you think.

Like- like his expensive cologne, with notes of amber and moss- but also like soap, like clean laundry, and something else, something sweet.

“Cotton Candy” You murmur to yourself. He probably eats it by the gallon sized bag , you think with a giggle.

“T-thank you-“ your eyes trail from the sleeve of his suit jacket to Dick, who’s got a pink tint fanning across his face, blue eyes flicking from the ground to your eyes.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight, and being so kind and considerate and lovely” and then Dick does something completely unexpected, he leans in closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Your heart leaps in your chest, his sickly sweet Cotten candy scent floods your senses.

You would just have to tilt you head up slightly to catch his lips in yours. He smells so sweet, it almost makes you dizzy. It’s like being drunk, you think.

You want to smell him more.

“Thank you for being so accepting.” His words are like a bucket of cold water being dumped over your head. You feel like you’ve sobered right up.

“Of course, we’re friends aren’t we?” You offer Dick a smile, but you know it’s probably strained. You were so caught up in the moment, you forget he’s already in love with someone.

All of his feelings, all of his kisses, they’re reserved for Nightwing.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow” You call out, before walking into your building, feeling Dick’s lingering

So you like Dick.

F*ck.

You’re on the balcony of your apartment, nursing a glass of hot tea in the late night- or would it be early hours of the morning? You can make out the sky beginning to lighten into a lighter blue. Great so you stayed up all night thinking about your feelings.

Your body is going to love you for this.

How did this even happen? Were you just so focused on not getting a crush on either of his sisters that you didn’t see this coming. Ugh why dick of all people? Yeah, sure he’s got those sparkly eyes, and that permanent rosy blush, not to mention that lopsided grin-

Okay so you know why you’re falling in love with him. But there’s no point in nursing these blooming feelings not when-

“Hey do you have any sugar?” The masked crusader asks from beside you. That dazzling smile that makes people everywhere swoon aimed at you.

No point in nursing feelings for Dick, when the object of his affections is standing next to you, drinking earl grey out of your pink “Namaste in bed” mug.

“Or not- no big deal, I love my hot leaf juice with or without sugar.” He adds hastily, taking a loud sip as if to show you how much he’s enjoying your hospitality. You must have let your annoyance get to your face. You sigh, it’s not his fault that Dick loves him.

You’re the outsider here.

“So what are you doing out so late?” You ask, just wanting to make some small talk. But Nightwing lights up like you just offered him a million dollars. He’s so friendly it’s almost annoying, not unlike another certain dark haired golden boy you know.

“I’m always up, fighting crime, patrolling the streets-“ you never realized but being a vigilante is kind of a lot of work huh? You wonder if Nightwing has a day job, he looks so young though- maybe he’s still in school.

“The real questions is why are you still up?” His question is punctuated with a slurp of his tea.

“Just thinking I guess” you shrug, taking a sip of your own tea. You’re not about to tell Nightwing you realized you have feelings for his boyfriend.

“Thinking about the person you love?” It feels like you were just struck by an arrow. Nightwing’s mouth stretches. “No way, I was right?” You can almost picture the sparkle in his eyes behind his domino mask. You wonder what color eyes Nightwing has.

Probably a boring brown.

“Well who’s the lucky individual?” Noting your hesitance, Dick starts to get a little nervous. It hurts a little to think you don’t return his feelings. But there’s something about the shy look on your face, the way your eyes avert to your cup of tea, that’s just hopelessly adorable. What he wouldn’t give to have you look at him that way.

And then, a terrifying thought occurs to Dick.

“Don’t tell me you’re in love with Bruce Wayne?” He’s got absolutely no chance if you’re into older men. No unless you’re willing to wait ten years or so.

Then the most amazing thing happens- your mouth opens and laughter spills out. He’s heard you laugh, but never like this. So loud, and almost desperate.

And then, you do something else he’s never seen before. Somewhere along the way those loud laughs transformed into equally loud sobs. Your mouth pinched tight as tears spill from the corners of your eyes.

A hand curls over your eyes in an attempt to cover your face. This is mortifying, you’re basically crying in front of your romantic rival, completely vulnerable.

You’re about to mutter out an excuse, how you’re not usually like this, that you must be close to your period or something. When you feel a pair of arms wrap around your shoulder, your face pressed against Nightwing’s chest.

“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay” he murmurs reassuringly, his glove covered hand rubbing soothing circles into your back. And even though you were on the edge of recompsure, you’re thrust back into despair. Your sobs leaving you almost breathless as Nightwing continues to hold you.

“Tell me what’s wrong, so I can help” Dick whispers. Whatever it is, it must be serious. He’s never seen you cry, not when you were a hostage in that bank robbery, or held at gun point at that restaurant, not even when Damian was basically integrating you all night.

“I love someone, who’s never going to love me back” you manage between sobs, and Nightwing only shushes you. His hand traveling to your hair. Cradling your head against his chest.

He smells so good, like amber and moss, and something sickeningly sweet- like cotton candy.

He smells like Dick.

And that seems to soothe you a bit, along with Nightwing’s gentle warmth.

“Don’t worry, everything’s going to be fine, I promise”

“Man, and I thought things were going really well between you guys” Stephanie says, her hand threading through her golden curls, head tilting back so it rests against the back of his couch.

“Yeah, me too” Dick admits with a sigh, he’s sitting with his knees propped up on the floor, his back against the wall.

Cassandra doesn’t say anything, her eyes are trained on the coffee table, their masks collectively strewn across it.

“So what are you going to do?” Stephanie asks, and Dick sighs again.

“What can I do honestly, they love someone else” he shrugs, he plays it off like it’s not a big deal. But the thought of your with someone else... it makes his stomach hurt.

“Just because she loves someone else right now...doesn’t mean she will forever” Those are the first words Cass has uttered all night, and Dick and Stephanie are both looking at her with wide eyes.

Stephanie’s already hyping him up, saying there’s no way their Dick’s going to lose to some no-face-extra, like your love is some sort of competition to be won.

And Cassandra’s only encouraging her, with energetic nods and the occasional ‘exactly’

But all Dick can think about is the way you felt in his arms, and how small you seemed as sobs wracked through your entire body. How deep your sadness felt, like he might be sucked in any moment too, tears falling from beneath his domino mask.

He hates whoever it is that made you feel that way. If it was him- if you loved him instead, he’d make sure you were never sad, he’d give you everything he was and everything he had if it meant you might smile for him.

He doesn’t want to change your mind, your feelings don’t work like that. All he knows is that he loves you- and what you need right now, is a friend. Someone who-

“Just wants to see them happy” Dick mumbles.

Taglist: @adenspolaroids @libraryoffandomsuniverse @jeneeangella @chyume @masked-mushroom

#batman imagine #dc comics imagine #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagines #dick Grayson #dick grayson headcanon #bruce wayne imagine #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #damian wayne imagine #dc comics #bruce wayne x reader #batman imagines #superhero--imagines

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silkentragedies · 3 years

Text

A boyfriend sounds good, but…

Non idol! Jung Wooyoung x fem! Reader

3.1k words, Highly suggestive at best, making out, FLUFF, E2L vibes, College AU

Warnings: Mentions of STDs, making out. ( This is so self-indulgent it’s horrible lmao- also, not explicit at all.)

This piece of fiction does not reflect the actions of the real-life Jung Wooyoung. Not meant for minors.

College was supposed to be late night parties and hurried submissions, overdosing on caffeine and woefully unedited essay compilations. College was supposed to be hellish hangovers and greasy weekend brunches in bed, helter-skelter running to part-time jobs and missing classes with snoozed alarms.

You got all of that, of course, but you also got one thing you didn’t ask for, in fact, wished beyond wishes that it wouldn’t happen but of course, your guardian angel was up to some mischief: You got yourself an archenemy.

Jung fucking Wooyoung.

It all started off small, of course; bumping into each other rather violently in the hallways on orientation day ended with your coffee on the floor. Minor detail- his phone had also dropped on the floor.

You apologized profusely- he seemed like an upperclassman with his leather jacket, slim but solid build, a head of double-toned hair and oh were those tattoos peeking out of his collar- no point in causing a ruckus on the first day. You even offered to pay for the damage.

And then he opened his mouth.

“Can’t you watch where you’re going?”

The sheer annoyance in his tone rubbed you the wrong way- obviously you had to respond, you weren’t the only one at fault-

“Sorry, but you weren’t watching where you were going either. So don’t tout the blame to me-”

“Oh, whatever, just keep your money. I can get it fixed myself.”

The audacity of this bi-

“Good for you then, because my offer is off the table now, pretty boy.”

A smirk curled up his lip- “You think I’m pretty?”

“About as pretty as a skunk, especially with that hair.”

You had to tamp down the urge to childishly stick your tongue out at his bemused, mildly annoyed expression before walking past him.

Lamenting the loss of your morning coffee, you hurried your way to the orientation venue. At Least he was an upperclassman. Thankfully you wouldn’t have to deal with him-

“Did you see that hot guy in the leather jacket and that black-blonde hair ?”

Fuck’s sake.

“His name’s Jung Wooyoung and apparently all the upperclassmen already have an eye on him. He’s in our major so we really lucked out, hot guys-wise.”

Fuck’s sake.

Surely you could just avoid him and pretend he didn’t exist?

But no.

Jung fucking Wooyoung turned out to be the apple of the campus’ eye in a matter of 2 weeks. He was as new to the university as the rest of you and yet, managed to look more put together, cooler than the rest of you still struggling to figure out class numbers and professor names.

He was the upperclassmen darling- people drooled over him, wanted to befriend him, and invite him to all the big parties…

and fuck- even the teachers were already wrapped around his infuriating pinky finger. They allowed him to waltz into class 25 minutes late, smile his infuriating innocent smile and chill in the back row, scot fucking free.

A month in, he’d gotten into the Dance Club too- cementing his legendary status in the university. It was unheard of, after all, for a freshman to get into the unattainable Dance Club in his first attempt.

You happened to visit one of the club’s performances one weekend and even you couldn’t ignore the sheer talent he radiated. It only infuriated you more to watch Wooyoung hog the stage’s spotlight with almost no effort- all perfect lines, sharp and clean movements…

It’s fine, you could still ignore his existence

But no.

Another thing about Jung Wooyoung- he found sick pleasure in annoying the living daylights out of you.

It was so juvenile, so high-school, so immature of him- sticking gum in your hair, snapping your bra strap, kicking the back of your chair, striking up nonsense debates with you in class…

And then he had the nerve to laugh in your face when you glared at him with hellfire in your eyes because you were too polite to lash out in front of a professor.

Of course, you exhibited no such restraint outside the classroom.

“You vs Woo” was a commonplace explanation for the commotions that blazed up in the campus courtyard every other day. You were like wolves, the way you snarled at each other, not hesitating to slash at each other with as many cutting words as you could find.

This went on for months, an entire semester marred by an enmity that seemed to stem from nothing- until one day, mister Jung Wooyoung really fucked up.

“WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU? FACE ME, YOU COWARDLY WORM!” Your angry yelling and thudding on the door had Wooyoung’s roommates Yeosang and… Choi San? running to open the door to their shared dorm room.

You barged into Wooyoung’s room, unplugging the game he was playing. “What the fuck-”

“You dirty fucking bastard. You shameless shitstain of a fucking human being-”

Slap. Wooyoung reeled back. In all this time, you’d never actually hit out at him physically. It had always been words. Maybe this time he crossed a line?

“You told Changbin I had a fucking STD. THE GALL OF YOU-” You lashed out at him with every few words, pushing Wooyoung further back against the back wall of his room.

“How fucking dare you make assumptions about me like that. you lowlife scumbag.” You snarled in his face, now having him trapped between you and the wall.

You were smaller than him by quite a bit- it was almost amusing to see Wooyoung cowering in front of you, lowkey terrified of what you’d throw at him next.

“Okay okay, fuck, I’m sorry!” He burst out finally, cutting you right across your angry rant. “I didn’t mean it like that!! I swear, I didn’t even know you were the one he was talking about. And I only told him to be safe from STDs, not that anybody had one.”

“What makes you think I’ll believe you, Jung,” You screeched. “You’ve always been a dick in general to me. I wouldn’t put it past you to say something like that and lie to my face about it.”

You back away, almost disgusted at being so close to him, “Seriously, dude. Get fucked.” Flipping him off before leaving, you turn around to look at him still standing where you’d backed him up to, an evil glint in your eye.

“It will be so fucking unfortunate if somebody told the campus gossip blog you had erectile dysfunction and your hookups were all fake.”

Safe to say, Wooyoung never made digs at your sexual activity again.

Neither did he have much sexual activity of his own for a while. Not that there was much sexual activity in your case either.

Maybe it was that exact…starvation that led Wooyoung to behave the way he did.

What was juvenile teasing became more… flirtatious?

Oh gods, what the fucking fuck is going on-

Suddenly, it wasn’t gum in your hair, it was soft whispers against your ear, breath warm against your cheek

It wasn’t kicking the back of your chair, it was leaning in front of you to fistbump Lee Felix on the other side of you until you could smell his intoxicating chocolate-honey-sweat scent.

He’d taken to taking his leather jacket off and sitting through classes (he still turned up late for) in a muscle t shirt that showed off his toned arms-

All of his movements now seemed to be designed to tease the crawling under your skin you hadn’t been able to quench recently-

Not that you were a serial hookup kinda person, but you’d been fairly sexually active until semester exams and Wooyoung’s rumors had brought around quite a dry spell for you.

It was like every action of his sparked something wildfire hot in your head, tension stringing your senses into overdrive- were you imagining it?

Wooyoung was having some troubles with said crawling under-skin himself.

Since when did you wear skinny jeans like that to class? Did you always have such a pretty neck, just waiting to get marked up? Did you always have that sway to your hips when you walked out of class?

The forced abstinence was doing bad things to him.

It did rather amuse him, however, when he could see your breath catch a little from his murmurings in your ear, or squirm in your seat when he spoke to Felix before the professor arrived. It was the little things, truly.

You still fought like a cat and dog though- there was no way the two of you would ever let on that your scope of noticing each other had gone beyond annoyance and rivalry a while ago.

“Fuck no. I’m not doing this fucking project with you. It’s worth half the fucking grade and you’re a numbskull when it comes to this subject.”

“Like I want to deal with you anymore than I have to, sweetheart. You’re pretentious enough in class as it is.”

Fate really loved playing the cliche card with you- of course you got paired up with Wooyoung for one of your semester projects.

No, it definitely wasn’t the teacher that saw you two glaring more at each other more than the whiteboard and decided to take matters into her own hands.

Of fucking course the teacher refused to allow switching of partners or individual grading- it had to be a team effort or you’d both fail the subject. As a team. Yippee-ki fucking yay.

So you two ended up in the library at 11 p.m, two nights before your first check point review, having procrastinated the fuck out of working together until the last possible minute.

Amidst cursing at each other and cups of ramen and iced americano, the two of you found yourself stuck with each other and attempting to build the basis of an acceptable report to present.

Surprisingly enough, Wooyoung wasn’t entirely a lost cause when it came to the subject. He actually made sizable contributions to the report. He even got you some coffee on his break, despite the jibes and taunts you threw at him about going soft- you were the type to hold a grudge.

You were both wandering down the shelves in the library, looking for more references when Wooyoung decided to open his big mouth again.

“You do realize that shitty rumor you put out didn’t really mess with my prospects, right?” Wooyoung was so full of shit. “If anything, I’d be worried about you, sweetheart.”

There it was again. Sweetheart. Another of those taunting things that just riled you up in all the wrong(right) ways. It was like he knew everything you would go weak for and then shamelessly exploited them all.

“Unlike you, Wooyoung, I don’t need people to stroke my ego…or anything else. I can get myself going just fine.”

“If you did know how to stroke anybody’s anything, sweetheart, you wouldn’t have trouble getting some.”

Ohhh, so he wants to play some games!!! Okay then-

You reached out to flick at his ponytail, ever-so slightly enamoured by how well he pulled off the double-toned look.

“Like you know anything about how to please in bed, babe.”

It was unfair how much that nickname falling from your lips affected Wooyoung. Some…not very appropriate thoughts had already taken root in his brain and you running your mouth was not helping at all.

“Good enough for them to beg, sweetheart.”

A soft crow of laughter escaped you as you turned to fully face him, the both of you standing between the Greek Architecture and Geography sections.

“You sure you weren’t the one doing the begging?”

“Oh, really now?”

You really should’ve thought through what was leaving your mouth

Because now you were wedged between the shelves and Wooyoung’s (unfairly) toned body, his arms caging you in with that signature shit-eating grin on his face as he leaned closer to you-

The tension was almost atrocious now, suffocating you when it had only previously nudged at you. You could feel it settle under your skin, in your veins, fingers itching to reach out and pull him closer

But you kept your hands braced against the shelves- you would not give him the satisfaction of making the first move yourself…right?

Fuck, you really wanted to though-

It had be the late hour leaving you with lesser inhibitions than normal or possibly the pent up horny in your system or maybe the questionable direction your conversation was headed in

There was no other plausible reason for your arch nemesis’ lips to look that inviting

It must’ve been the way your attention flitted from his eyes to his lips that gave you away, a momentary lapse of self-control before you looked away, off to some point behind his shoulders-

And he smirk only widens

“You know, nobody really visits this corner of the library.”

“Your point?”

Both your voices were whispers now, your bodies close enough to touch but not quite, Wooyoung’s face a few inches away from yours and holding your gaze

(He had honey flecks in those dark eyes, 7 on one side and 4 on the other, like gold leaf in coffee)

“We could easily find out who begs for who…”

He still hadn’t touched you yet, his hands placed on the shelf on either side of you- you could move out from the space if you so wished-

Despite the tension between the both of you, it seemed like… like he was waiting for you to make the first move, voice your consent, act on it

How considerate, you thought to yourself as you let your sight wander to either side, checking for people

Surprising you found Jung Wooyoung’s one possible redeeming quality like this, mind hazy and barely restraining yourself from kissing the living daylights out of him-

Oh well, fuck it

A soft sound left Wooyoung as you curled your hand around the back of his neck and pulled his face to yours, lips meeting in a soft, hesitant kiss

How dare he be a good kisser too?

One hand reached up to cup your cheek and you instinctively tilted your head into the warmth of his palm as the kiss deepened

Unfair that he could take your breath away so effortlessly

There was nothing hesitant about the way Jung wooyoung kissed you back

Lips pressing more persistently against yours, teeth grazing your lower lip and pulling slightly before diving in again, hand now curled around the back of your neck

His other hand caressed your side and gripped your hips as he pressed you gently against the shelves, your arm slipping down to clutch at the front of his shirt as his body molded all too perfectly against yours

You could feel him everywhere

Everywhere

From the way his lips had begun to land messy kisses against your jaw and neck, the hand on your hip tightening and slipping under your shirt to clutch at soft skin, hips flush against yours

You couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from Wooyoung, your head spinning at the intoxicating feeling he brought with him

The sensation of his mouth against your neck was almost euphoric, your head lolling back against the books and leaving you to pull your lower lip between your teeth, an almost futile feeling bid to keep silent, you’re still in public

Somehow your hands wound up in his hair, pulling the double-toned strands as his head dipped lower, a quiet groan from Wooyoung your only pointer that he liked it

So this is why he was so sure of himself, your mind temporarily blanking when Wooyoung’s teeth pulled against the sensitive skin, biting and sucking gently

A choked, uneven sound escaped your mouth when he pushed you harder against the shelves, hand reaching lower to squeeze your butt-

A smirk lit up his eyes as he straightened up to look at the line of red- blue blooming across your neck, then at you, cheeks warm and still biting your lip, looking resolutely away from his gaze

“Weren’t we supposed to be working on the project?”

This little buzzkill.

You didn’t work on the project that night

You spent it in Wooyoung’s bedroom, getting railed within an inch of your life.

Not without the lack of the both of you being absolutely unable to keep your hands off each other on the way there

Between the library and his dorm, you pulled or got pulled into shady alleys and corners for ‘another taste’

“Never again.” You warned him when he dropped you off at your dorm, you looking windswept from the wind of course and his hoodie up because of the cold not because his neck was more purple than tan-

Lies.

Your daytime dynamic remained the same

But now with added benefits-

He got to corner you after class, feel you up until you were gasping his name and then leave you hanging

You got to make brazen moves under the table in the library whenever he got too snarky for his own good

He could ask nicely, you learnt. Broken groans and choked-up sounds would escape him when you ran your nails over his skin, soft and sharp and wanting and unyielding as you kissed your way down his body

Down his neck, over his chest, the hard planes of his stomach

He would plead for more when you sucked him off, bucking his hips closer to you everytime you slowed down or stopped

Find him at the right time, though and he could just as easily return the favour

He would tease you relentlessly, hands ghosting everywhere dangerous and then pulling away just to watch you squirm and make grabby hands at him, a frown marring your kiss- swollen lips

Leave conspicuous marks too high up on your neck for you to cover, dark enough for a day or two that even makeup left shadows

Spending a long, long time between your legs only to get up and start dressing, claiming to be late for class

Quickies were your religion at this point

Janitors closets locked and hand covering your mouth to muffle your moans before a dance competition, empty bedrooms in frat parties with one of you getting pushed onto the bed

It was an infernal coupon from hell : Find one archrival, get a fuck buddy free of cost!

Of course, there were side effects

“Did you just walk out of that empty classroom with Jung Wooyoung? After class hours?” “We were studying for the midterms!!”

“Uh.. Wooyoung, who was that leaving the dorm building? at 1 in the morning?” “uh yEAH WE WERE DOING THE PROJECT YEAH.”

Yeah, a boyfriend sounds nice but an archenemy you can make out with in secret sounds ravishingly pleasing-

When the boy in question is a certain young man with double toned hair with a penchant for leather jackets and out-of-line snark, you couldn’t agree more.

Yes, this is a revamp and repost from my main account xD. Like I said, this was self indulgence to the peak 😩 I'm a tad whipped for snarky boy Jung Wooyoung 😀

Do lemme know what you think ^_^. xoxo, A💕

Possibly interested parties: @aliceu @whiteprincessofnohr

(drop me an ask to be added or removed! )

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #wooyoung x reader #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #ana.writes ateez #atz #atz x reader #atz imagines #atz smut

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magireco · 3 years

Note

Would love to hear more thoughts on how these girls have understandable teenage motivations (A+ tag analysis by the way)

1. Thank you!!!!!!

2. ALRIGHT IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS (shuffles my papers). i’ve gone off about homura’s motivations in depth before but i think it was only in dms/groupchats? anyways i’ll go in order with All the girls bc i think about this all the time as a teenager who grew up mentally ill and had their perceptions skewed because of it, and also i don’t think it’s talked about nearly enough for the others, at least on my blog... so, buckle up!!! this is REALLY LONG!!!!

3. i tried writing like, an individual thing for every member of the quintet all together in this one ask, but i ended up talking a little too much about homura and now i’m going to split up all the different analysis stuff for each character into the reblogs and work on it every so often! you’re free to kinda skim of course because i really did write a whole novel but here we go!! read under the cut. :3 this is literally essay length btw. i did NOT expect it to get this long but if you want to read it all i’d recommend it but i don’t expect most people to

First: Homura Akemi

okay so i’m going to kind of summarize everything but from the perspective of empathizing with her so if you don’t want to reread a whole recap you can skip to the ending few paragraphs

Summary

first of all, in episode 10, homura’s past is explained for the viewer. she was a shy, unsure girl who had been bedridden for a long time. she was clearly unsocialized, not to mention she went to a catholic school and those can be brutal, esp in japan... that’s all we know about her in that episode, but it’s revealed in one of the drama cds that she was bullied as a child(& further at mitakihara middle), her parents never were mentioned ever (i assume them to either be dead or neglectful, considering she lives alone and unchecked), and in magia record, homura says to natsuki that she’s never had friends before, she hasn’t been on vacation before until the beachside bonds event, hasn’t ever celebrated valentine’s day, has never celebrated new years, etc...

clearly, she’s missed out on a lot not only because of her sickness and hospitalization, but because of her isolation as a child at school. judging by her demeanor and the way she reacts when madoka comes up to her without being asked to, something like that had never happened to her before. it’s clear to me that madoka was many of homura’s “first’s”, her first friend, the first person who reached out to her, the first person to compliment her name honestly(validating her, disproving her dislike of her name), the first person to regard her so kindly rather than judging her based off of her appearance and demeanor (like other students had apparently done, this is also shown when the other students at mitakihara middle make fun of her for being tired after only being able to run one lap). AND, madoka (and mami, but homura knew madoka better at that time) saved her life, even though homura was so willing to die, just in that moment... i’d assume it made homura feel like someone believed in her even when she was at her worst. it’s really clear by the glimmer in her eyes that these are nice people that made her feel happy and welcome... and then walpurgisnacht came. she didn’t know much about magical girls and just believed in madoka and mami to be able to defeat the witch because she saw them as strong and saw the witch as defeatable, despite its size. and then mami died, right in front of her and madoka...

this kinda seems headcanon-y when i phrase it this way but it’s practically proven in her actions but i really think homura is scared to be abandoned, especially by someone who was as overtly kind and nonjudgemental to her as madoka... it’s in the way she cries her name and says “don’t go” before madoka runs away to fight walpurgisnacht. OH ALSO, i need to address this one thing really quick because people like to assume that homura didn’t care about mami from the beginning and only liked madoka. it’s not that she wasn’t sad when mami died, she was clearly terrified and didn’t want the same to happen to madoka, also mami LITERALLY WASN’T IN HER CLASS OR HER GRADE so i assume she spent most of her time with madoka considering they were in the same grade and class and probably shared most of their periods with each other... but also, once again, mami is older than both of them and homura probably saw her as more of a mentor/teacher that she needed to impress rather than madoka who was more on her level, i guess?

anyways, moving on... homura had to see madoka die (& experience the crushing guilt she felt for “letting madoka go” even though there was nothing she could’ve done) and literally says “i’d rather you had lived than saved someone like me” ... her self worth is below zero. she makes her wish to be strong enough to protect madoka(because she sees madoka, her first friend, who saved her life which she felt had no worth, as so strong and noble) which causes her to go back in time, etc. etc., you know the deal. okay before i move on to talk a little more abt the timelines and the personality change i’m going to address why it’s reasonable that she’d be attached to madoka.

i mentioned before that homura said herself that she had never had a friend before. just like, put yourself into her shoes for a second. this girl has no idea how to make friends; it was never taught to her. it’s literally rational that she’d get attached to her first ever friendship. it’s not “normal” the way she views madoka, but how could it be? this is her first time having a friend, she’s afraid of being abandoned by her, but she’s had to see her die over and over again anyway. she doesn’t want to lose madoka. even if she doesn’t go about it in the right way, there’s no way she would’ve actually known how to Do relationships. no one taught her. i think that needs to be empathized with more...

i kinda feel like i need to summarize all this just bc if i word it right it kinda reminds you & puts into perspective just how terrible and scary all of this was.

anyway Again, i would skip straight to the end of timeline 3 (where a New Flavor of trauma is given to homura) but i need to first address timeline 2 for a second. it was homura’s first time repeating the timeline, she trained with madoka and mami again, she was still hopeful despite what happened, etc. kinda just bonding further with madoka Again... and then it’s at the end of this timeline that she watches madoka turn into a witch, just in front of her very eyes... and realizes the true fate of magical girls. when she resets the timeline again, it’s up to her to start anew and break the truth to the group when she sees them again. when she tries telling the truth, sayaka immediately shoves this aside, claiming homura was just trying to split everyone up. it’s clear that that hurts homura. (also the little shinies in her eyes were wavering which is anime-code for sad) her feelings were immediately disregarded by sayaka and she couldn’t defend herself, but madoka did for her, and mami tried to diffuse the situation.

after they all find out homura was right when sayaka turns into a witch, mami kills kyoko and ties up homura in her ribbons and aims a gun at her, and this, rightfully, ignited a fear within homura... madoka is forced to kill mami in order to save homura, leaving only the two of them to fight together. then, when walpurgisnacht comes that time, The Promise is made... madoka tells homura to go back in time and save her from becoming a witch (because she doesn’t want to curse the world that way, she still sees beauty in it) and homura agrees, saying she’ll never stop until she saves madoka, and then... homura has to mercy kill madoka before she becomes a witch. she cries loudly and shoots madoka’s soul gem... it’s literally so heartwrenching and (usually) brings the viewer to tears, or puts something into perspective for them...

then we assume the personality change happens in the timeline right after. this personality change causes a lot of discourse because sometimes it’s seen as kind of irrational, but personally, i think even moemura had at least SOME resent for the world around her considering what she’d been through. it’s madoka’s repeated deaths that finally push her over that edge. i could get further into the coolmura arc but that’d take a WHILE, so i’ll just kind of explain something briefly though -- why homura ended up becoming even MORE focused on madoka. and i’m also going to debunk the claim that homura doesn’t care about her other friends as fast as i can before moving on.

also, ONE LAST side tangent, for those that think homura really did do a 360 degree personality turn are wrong. it’s shown explicitly in homulilly’s labyrinth that there’s this... “core” homura, a shadowy purple silhouette with braids. every time the series depicts homura’s internal self, it’s always glasses+braids, symbolizing her “child” self, who she truly is. she never stopped being that person. she doesn’t want to kill. ...but i can get into that in a rebellion analysis later! this is also shown in wraith arc bc the person inside her soul gem has glasses+braids. anyway let’s get to the next part i’m going to rant about

Homura’s Love for Madoka, but Otherwise Apathy

homura has seen many different, yet all similar, versions of her friends. the first claim i’m going to talk about which i saw brought up quite a few times before is in regards to homura and mami. first of all, homura absolutely still cares for mami, and not just in the “i only care about your life if it affects madoka’s” way. one part that always gets me is when mami ties her up in the series timeline after homura frantically warns her that this witch isn’t normal, to which mami IMMEDIATELY brushes this off, without even giving homura a chance. then, when mami’s ribbons fade away, homura looks horrified and just goes “oh no...” and it’s kind of obvious to me that it was in response to mami’s death rather than madoka’s reaction. this is arguably up for debate i guess because i’ve seen different takes on that reaction and it’s ambiguous, i guess? but i’m about to get into something extremely similar and that’s the sayaka situation, where madoka throws sayaka’s soul gem onto a moving car. homura gasps and immediately pauses time and disappears, running in literal open traffic and climbing on top of a moving car to retrieve sayaka’s soul gem. one could argue that this is ALSO only just because homura wants to save madoka (and kyoko) the fear, but don’t you think her expression would be different? if homura truly didn’t care for sayaka’s wellbeing, wouldn’t she be making an expression more similar to like, “oh, this shit again...” instead of the frantic one she was making in the scene? this kind of thing Also happens when kyoko asks homura to leave while kyoko’s about to sacrifice herself in oktavia’s labyrinth, and homura looks up sadly at kyoko and then back down at madoka, and once she knew kyoko was dead, she just quietly said “kyoko...” to herself. she usually refers to them as [last name, first name], but she dropped that during that moment... it otherwise sounds like a bare minimum thing to do, but keep in mind the timeline we’re shown in the series is implied to be like, the 110th timeline, i think? like, this is the last timeline, she’s worn down, but she still does have empathy -- or at least sympathy -- for the others. she still loves them.

homura promised to be madoka’s protector, she dedicated her life to her, and also she doesn’t have a choice not to dedicate her life to her anymore, even though that’s not fair to her... homura is in a really hopeless situation and madoka is her hope, and madoka is the one that judges her the least out of the quintet (like saying “i’m sure homura is good” to herself) upon first impression. also okay i mentioned this already in my last post (which you saw) but i’m going to bring it up one more time, homura is not mentally 26!!!!!! she is still 14 mentally!! in order to be 26, you have to have experienced 26 years of new life experience. maybe you acquire that through school, maybe you aquire that through friends, whatever it takes. but homura just repeated the same month over and over, and it’s not like her body (canonically) ages ever. she just kind of gets transported back into her body in the hospital again considering she’s back wearing her braids and pajamas... so, yeah. no mental development there. i also mentioned this here but i’m gonna say it again, that just makes it even harder for her to actually age correctly... it stunts her to 14. imagine being 14 for 10-11 years...

In Defense Of My Own Claims

btw before you think i’m just going full-on radical homura apologist, i’m not explaining all of this to be like “homura made ALL THE RIGHT DECISIONS because her trauma gave her an excuse!!” because like, Obviously, she did a lot of bad things, she killed people, did a lot of callous things, a lot of thoughtless things, a lot of things that make her seem emotionless, etc. but i just have trouble blaming her considering how things ended up, and it’s not like she enjoys killing people. she’s not sadistic... she ends up becoming short with all the others not only because of her (extremely) weakened trust in them, but also because the amount of times she repeated the timeline. i’d imagine it makes her feel like the others can’t truly die because she can just go back and see them again. (this is also why wraith arc/post-tv series must’ve been hard for her because she can no longer turn back time, things are permanent now, deaths are forever) she’s become so worn down that she’ll do anything to escape the loops... also considering she has no choice but to continue? although it shouldn’t be, it’s technically her job as a magical girl to defeat all witches and walpurgisnacht counts. it kills magical girls and tears up the whole city and she’s usually the only magical girl left... her choices, when defeated, are either to give up and die or to go back and try again, and she made a promise to her first ever friend to do just the latter... i just don’t understand how this isn’t easier for people to comprehend, that all of this trauma and stress and responsibility on top of an already traumatized 14 year old does not mix well. ever. she had to figure out all of this by herself.

TL;DR:

homura was a previously traumatized, unsocialized 14 year old with (very)low self esteem & self worth whose first friend (and first love, really, let’s be honest) died in front of her in horrific ways and she watched as she (and the other friends she came to make) drifted slowly apart from her in her endless and futile attempt in saving her from what proved to be an inescapable fate. also she’s 14 and also she’s (canonically) mentally ill and a lesbian. not a monster, not evil, not “psycho”. and that’s that!

#asks #luna-mistrunner #homura akemi #analysis #THIS MAY HABE TAKEN ME LIKE 2 DAYS ON AND OFF

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secretpeachtea · 3 years

Text

is it fair?

Title: is it fair?

Genre: angst

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Midoriya didn't think there would come a day when Bakugou Katsuki would apologize to him. The last time he heard Bakugou pour out his heart was during their fight after he got his hero license but not once was an apology uttered. Now, he stands under the rain while facing his childhood friend who had just set aside his pride to mend their friendship. He didn't know how to react.

a.k.a my version of ch 322 if deku didn’t fully accept or comprehend bakugou’s apology the first time

Disclaimer: manga spoilers (inspired by ch 322)

A/N: i think the chapter is perfect the way it is, so if i hear any slander of horikoshi’s hard work and plotline, then i will simply yeet you away

read on ao3

“Izuku...”

“I’m sorry for everything.”

The rain pours down even harder at Bakugou’s apology as he lowers his head in front of his childhood friend. The rest of Class 1A watches from a couple feet away, all struck with their own individual chaotic emotions. Midoriya stands frozen in place as his brain tries to process the blonde’s words.

“You’re...sorry?”

There’s only about a minute of silence before Midoriya bursts out into humorless laughter. It sounds somewhat maniacal, and he has his arms clutching his stomach dramatically. Bakugou’s head shoots up to look at the boy with shock written over his own face. A few of his classmates even flinch at Midoriya’s sudden reaction.

Class 1A had believed that Bakugou had gotten through to Midoriya when they saw the small spark of light in his eyes. They thought they were able to see a glimpse of the sweet and friendly boy they’ve all become familiar with since the beginning of the school year. They were wrong.

No one dares say anything as Midoriya’s laughter is slowly replaced by heart-wrenching sobs. His tears blend in with the cold rain trailing down his cheeks, and he can barely make out anyone due to his blurred vision. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve mistaken all the blurry figures as the terrified civilians who have been visibly cowering away from him since he started working with the heroes.

“Midoriya-kun…” Iida, who’s been witnessing all of this unfold from behind his dear friend, tries to place a hand on the boy’s hunched shoulder. His efforts are immediately rejected as a tattered glove slaps it away and Iida’s expression saddens.

“Don’t...don’t touch me.” Midoriya takes a step away from the group with dull eyes and a couple people tense up in case he tries to run away again. However, he seems to have overworked his body to the point where his legs could no longer support him. As his knees buckle, Kirishima and Iida rush to catch their friend. Bakugou sprints forward just a bit faster.

As soon as Bakugou’s arms grasp onto Midoriya’s disheveled costume, the shorter boy aggressively shoves the blonde out of arm's reach. The momentum causes Bakugou to stumble backwards a bit, while Midoriya collapses into a small puddle.

“Get away from me!! Don’t come near me!” Midoriya’s shouts. He props himself up to lean on his arms but makes no effort to stand and instead sighs in defeat. “I-it’s too late for me…”

This time, Uraraka is the one to slowly approach her fallen friend with a grimace, her footsteps cautious. “What do you mean, Deku-kun?”

“I’m becoming what everyone perceives me as. What everyone thinks of when ‘Deku’ appears. The Pro heroes tried to hide it from me, but… there’s no way I couldn’t have heard what the civilians have been saying. T-they...they think I’m...a v-vi-” Midoriya can’t finish his sentence and stares at the ground as if willing it to swallow him whole.

Kirishima clenches his fists. “No way, Midoriya! There’s no way anyone would ever see you as a villain!”

There’s a murmur of agreements from the class. Kaminari nods his head fervently. “Yeah, man! You’re, like, the total opposite! We all know you’re a great hero!”

Bakugou points behind him with his thumb and musters a shaky smirk. “You hear that? Everyone here knows you’re just as much of a hero as the rest of us, so come back to U.A.”

A beat of silence passes by and Class 1A waits in anticipation when Midoriya raises his head to look at them. Everyone casts a worrisome glance when they notice his eerily blank expression.

“...You’re wrong,” Midoriya rasps quietly. “You’ve all been ahead of me all this time.”

Midoriya attempts to pull himself off the ground but settles for resting on his knees when his legs continue to feel too weak. Bakugou could only stare and listen with distress.

“I couldn’t defeat All For One...I couldn’t save Shigaraki…Gran Torino. Aizawa-sensei. All Might. I don’t even know if Lady Nagant is able to breathe on her own!” The volume of Midoriya’s voice increases steadily and his voice cracks with anguish. With wide eyes, a gloved hand reaches to harshly pull at the bloodstained collar of Gran Torino’s cape as if it were choking him. “How many more people will I fail?”

For once, Bakugou can’t bring himself to say anything right away. The pain from his reopened shoulder wound doesn’t even compare to the pain he feels from listening to how broken his friend sounds. Is this how Midoriya felt when Bakugou had cracked under the pressure of his own insecurities months prior?

Midoriya’s hands grip onto his hair as if seeking for something to anchor his emotions. Black Whip trickles out of his hands but flickers out in short spurts from overuse. The boy looks more exhausted than ever before. His matted hair looms over the dark circles under his eyes and dirt frames his cheeks. Midoriya was always known for being a bit shorter than most of the boys his age, but he looked even smaller under his shredded hero costume.

Bakugou crouches down to match Midoriya’s eye level and gently grasps onto the tormented boy’s arms. He slowly pulls Midoriya’s arms away from his green locks without any resistance from the other male. Bakugou doesn’t even bat an eye when Black Whip scratches against his skin and beads of blood form from the small cuts. “You haven’t and you won’t.”

“Even when I have a quirk I…” Midoriya’s voice trails off into soft sniffles. The storm has transformed into a light drizzle, so it can no longer hide the fresh set of tears that stream down Midoriya’s face.

“It’s only ‘cause you’re trying to fucking do everything by yourself. We’re here to step in when you can’t handle it on your own,” Bakugou’s voice is uncharacteristically soft, but he doesn’t care. The two boys look at one another without breaking eye contact. The blonde takes a deep breath before speaking again, “and even if you don’t want to accept my apology, that’s okay. We’re here to save you because saving people is how we win.”

Without warning, Bakugou shifts forward and places a hand on the back of Midoriya’s head, while his other arm circles around the boy’s shoulders to collect him into a protective embrace. The latter practically melts into his friend’s arms as any final bit of strength leaves his body. For someone that used to bawl loudly in public, he cries quietly into Bakugou’s chest. Midoriya feels Bakugou tighten his hold as if a simple gust of wind might take him away again. The last few drops of rain fall to the Earth before the only thing he can feel is his friend’s slow but steady heartbeat.

“Kacchan...”

Was it fair for someone like him to feel so relieved in such a warm embrace?

“Let’s go...Izuku.”

The sky is still grey with looming clouds, but the rain has completely ceased. Midoriya finally relaxes in Bakugou’s arms.

“Okay.”

A/N: bakugou katsuki the man you are :')

#bnha 322 #bnha spoilers #bakugou #midoriya #class 1a #bnha angst #secretpeachtea #you see i am cryin in the club

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cardansriddle · 4 years

Text

Draco Malfoy x Granger!Reader- Forbidden Fruit

A/N: This was requested. I am trying to write all of your requests, thank you for sending them in! Some are taking longer to write because of the difficult context, so my apologies for those who are waiting.

Warnings: Torture, sad, semi-happy ending.

Summary: The reader is on a run with the Golden Trio when they stumble upon Snatchers who take them to the Malfoy Manor. Things get heated when Lucious recognizes the girl who has been on Draco’s mind while the Dark Lord was performing Lgeilimency on him.

Being on a run with the Golden Trio was probably not the brightest idea. But being Hermione Granger's little sister put me in danger, so after an emotional debate, we came to the conclusion that I would join her and the boys in the quest of defeating Voldemort. I knew going back to Hogwarts was not an option, since I was a muggleborn, but the reality of accepting the truth terrified me. All of this brought me to the situation I am in right now, arguing with the trio.

"I'm telling you this is a stupid idea! We will get caught as soon as we step a foot in there!" I yell, waving my hands around angrily. Hermione sides with me on this one, understanding the risk and the disadvantages of Harry Potter's ridiculously stupid plan.

"Do you have any other ideas? I saw this in my dream, we need to go there!" He shouts back at me and I try to refrain myself from punching his face.

"Merlin, you're dafter than Crabbe and Goyle! You-know-who will expect you to be there." I chuckle bitterly. Hermione puts a hand on my shoulder to calm me down, but I brush it off.

"Harry, she has a point, it's extremely risky..." Hermione trails off and I sense a 'but' coming, "But I can't lie, I was also thinking about going to the Godric's hollow," She says and I feel my blood boil once again. Harry's eyes light up and he looks at me hopefully. I shake my head in disapproval and he groans, running his hand through his hair. He looks at Ron, but he avoids his eyes, making it obvious he agrees with me rather than with his best friend.

I grin triumphantly. For the first time in his life, Ron made a sensible decision.

"Then Hermione and I will go, you two can stay here." He huffs before climbing in his bed.

"Absolutely not!" Both Ron and I object. Harry grins and I roll my eyes once I realize he knew we would not stay here.

Fuck him and his stupid scar that got us in this mess in the first place.

"Ok, off to bed all of you. Tomorrow we'll discuss this." Hermione sighs tiredly before kissing my forehead affectionately. I pull back and glare at her disappointedly, before laying down on my bed and facing away from her. I try not to overthink about the possibilities of tomorrow's events and drift off into a deep slumber.

I leave the Slytherin common room in a hurry, checking my wristwatch only to groan at the time. I am late to the D.A. meeting. Again.

Lost in my thoughts, I bump into a hard chest causing me to lose my balance. Before I can hit the ground, a hand wraps around my waist and pulls me back up. Once I regain my balance I look up to thank my saviour, but the words die on my tongue once my eyes land on the familiar face of Draco Malfoy. He pulls his hands away immediately once he realizes he caught me, and sneers.

"Watch where you're going, Granger." He spits and I roll my eyes in annoyance.

"Just move before I lose my patience and hex you, git," I reply and try to push past him, but he blocks my way. I look up at him in expectance, hoping he would get it over with so I could go. "Yes, Malfoy? I already know what you're going to say. That I am a stupid mudblood who doesn't deserve to be in Slytherin, bla bla bla. Let's not waste our time here." I put my hand on his chest and push him back harshly. He doesn't budge.

"Are you going to Potty's secret meeting?" He asks suspiciously. I furrow my eyebrows in fake confusion.

"I think you had too many Butterbeers." I say with an overly sweet smile and move past him successfully. I turn around to make sure he is not following me and grin triumphantly once I realize he left me alone. I slip into the Room of Requirements and am immediately greeted by the friendly faces of my friends. I avoid their questions about my whereabouts and start training.

As I fire a spell at Hermione, who dodges it easily, the room starts shaking. I glance at her in confusion and her face mirrors my expression. We all gather around the whall which is where the sound is coming from. Harry steps closer to the wall in order to peek at the other side.

I realize what is happening and immediately slip out of the room and make sure no one sees me. Dumbledore's Army is getting caught. If Umbridge would see me, a Slytherin there, things would get ugly, so I start sprinting towards my common room.

Before I can round around a corner, a hand reaches out and grips my arm before pulling me into an abandoned classroom. I try to scream but the other hand covers my mouth so my scream would be muffled.

"Be quiet, Granger, or do you want Umbridge to find you?" A familiar voice whispers in my ear and I turn around to see Malfoy standing in front of me with his signature sneer. "If you would turn around that corner, Parkinson would happily greet you with a hex." He drawls.

"So what? Am I supposed to thank you? Why did you pull me in here?" I ask and his muscles tens visibly. He clears his throat and avoids my eyes.

"I did not want your stupidity making us lose house points." He says and I scoff. Of course. Why else would he save my arse from Parkinson? I cursed the hopeful part of my brain which thought he did it for me. How naive of me.

I wake up to the voice of Hermione trying to wake me up. I assure her I am now wide awake and sit up groggily. I try to push the dream (which was actually a memory) I just had back.

While changing I cannot help but let my mind drift away to Draco. I know that he is on the side of Death Eaters, fighting amongst them against us, but a part of me keeps telling that it is involuntarily. The state that he was in the sixth year made it obvious. I remember how he isolated himself from everyone and barely threw insults my way. His mind was always somewhere else and he would constantly skip meals and disappear for hours. Hell, he even missed classes, which was unusual, since he was one of the best students. I remember my urge to approach him, comfort him, offer a shoulder to lean upon, but the status of my blood and the surname I was born with would always come in the way. I knew he would never let me close to him. He was the forbidden fruit I could never have.

After we pack everything we leave the tent. However, we stop in our tracks once we notice a group of men dressed in filthy clothes moving past us. I silently hope that they wouldn't notice us, but the leader does and raises his hands so the others would halt, and glances at us curiously.

"Run," Hermione whispers loud enough for us to hear, and we do not hesitate before breaking into a sprint. I dodge branches and the spells the men are casting my way while running, glancing back once in a while to check if any of them were close enough to catch me. I run like my life depends on it because it actually does. I realise I cannot see the trio and I start panicking slightly. I look around frantically trying to locate one of my friends, but my distraction causes me to stumble upon a fallen tree and I crash face-first into the ground. Before I can get up, the man behind me fires a spell and I feel ropes tightening around my ankles causing me to scream in frustration.

Two of the men pull me into a standing position as the leader approaches me, and only then I notice my friends being dragged behind him. I try to squirm out of their hold but they only tighten their grip. I kick one of the man's knee as hard as I can, and a small smile makes its way onto my lips when I hear his yelp as he falls on one knee.

"Fiesty." The leader who is now too close for my liking chuckles as his eyes dance over my features. His fingers trace over my cheekbones and I turn my face away from him.

"Go to hell." I hiss, but he only smiles in return.

"We're taking them back to Malfoy Manor. Who knows, maybe they'll be worth some galleons." He says and the others nod in agreement. I try not to let panic show on my face as my eyes connect with Hermione's and she seems to be thinking the same thing as I am.

Without a warning, they apparate us, and we are in front of the dark Manor which is enormous. A crazed looking woman with dishevelled hair opens the gate and I recognize her from the posters all around the place. Bellatrix Lestrange. Goosebumps rise on my skin as I recall the story of Neville's parents and try to shove the fear down. The man whispers something to her and her eyes fall upon us, observing each individual. Her eyes seem to linger on me for a moment too long before she smirks and lets us inside.

We are brought to the living room, where I see Lucius Malfoy and her wife standing in the corner, observing the situation. Then my eyes fall upon the familiar figure and my breath catches in my throat.

Draco.

His eyes find mine and I see an emotion flicker behind his cold eyes before he masks it and it's back to looking indifferent. I block the argument between the adults out as I stare at him. His eyes never leave mine as he grips his wand tighter, causing his knuckles to whiten.

"Isn't this the girl...the Dark Lord was talking about? The girl that was distracting Draco's thoughts?" Lucious asks, causing my head to snap in his direction. His eyes stay on me as he observes me with a sneer.

"The mudblood?" Bellatrix chuckles. "Is it true Draco? Did the Dark Lord see her in your thoughts?" His aunt asks him while her gaze stays glued to me. He gulps nervously before responding.

"Why would I care about a filthy mudblood?" He replies, venom dripping from his every word and I try not to flinch at his words.

"Are you quite sure, Draco?" His aunt taunts, "Let's put that to the test, shall we?" She smiles evilly before raising her wand. "Crucio!"

I drop to the ground in a second, excruciating pain spreading over my body like wildfire. I do not register the screams of my friends as I myself scream in agony. I shut my eyes close and pray to whatever higher power there is to end this nightmare. I feel like my bones are cracking everywhere, and at that moment, I wish for death to come and envelope me, for it would be better to die rather than go through this torture for another second.

"Enough." I hear a female voice say who I assume it's Narcissa. Bellatrix looks back in surprise at whoever dared to interrupt her and I physically do not have the strength to open my eyes or listen to the commotion around me. Before I know it, someone scoops into their arms and I'm being carried away. I cannot control the tears staining my cheeks, and try to muffle a sob.

"It's okay, I've got you." A familiar voice whispers and I lean my head on his chest, clutching my hand around his black suit. He gently places me on the hard ground, and I open my eyes to make sure I am not imagining it. "I'm sorry." He whispers as he starts muttering healing charms under his breath.

Suddenly an ear-deafening scream echoes through the Manor, and it takes me a second to realize it's my sister. I sit up quickly, immediately regretting doing so as I feel my ribs hurt from the sudden movement. My sister is being tortured...and I have no power to stop it. The thought burdens my mind and I force back the tears threatening to spill from my eyes.

I hear the metal bars opening before they close shut, and I look to see Harry and Ron laying on the ground. They both look very angry and upset as they look around helplessly before their eyes settle on me and the hunched figure next to me. Draco looks back at them and points his wand towards my friends.

"Move and I'll hex you." He threatens. Harry looks at me worriedly but I shake my head, silently begging him to not intervene. After all, Draco was healing me. They do not step towards me but stay put and continue watching as Draco turns back and focuses on me.

"Thank you," I whisper but he shakes his head.

"Don't thank me. This happened to you because of me." He snaps back and I can tell he is frustrated with himself.

"What did they mean when they said I was in your thoughts when Voldemort was invading your head?" I ask after a moment of silence. He sighs and runs his hand through his platinum blonde hair.

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to, Granger," Draco says and I scoff. He smiles at the action before running his fingers through my hair and my eyes closed involuntarily at the gentle and soothing action.

"Will she be ok?" Harry's soft voice echoes in the large basement and Draco looks up in surprise. He nods before resting his gaze on me and smiles. It feels like Harry and Draco form an unspoken truce after this brief interaction and Harry pulls a hesitant Ron away from us and they sit down and start whispering amongst themselves, undoubtedly planning an escape.

I raise my hand hesitantly and trace Draco's defined jawline and sculptured cheekbones as he leans into my touch. My palm cups his cheek and he hesitates before leaning in and capturing my lips in a gentle kiss. I kiss back immediately and despite being tortured moments ago, I feel like I'm on cloud nine as he embraces me.

"Draco!" Someone calls and he pulls back. He sighs tiredly and releases his hold on me.

"I'll see you soon, I promise. Try to stay alive, yeah?" He smiles sadly and pecks my lips one more time before standing up. He casts a lingering look my way before disappearing from my sight. I sigh at the emptiness I feel after he leaves and pray to Merlin that this would not be the last time I see him.

I just got my hands on the forbidden fruit, I could not bear losing him after years of hiding my love for the boy who had no choice.

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Text

Icy Fairytale

Boyinaband (Dave Brown) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Romance, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Falling in love is walking on thin ice in and of itself, but what happens when it's literal? Yeah that's right - two ambitious individuals fall head over heels for one another on the delicate icy ground of a Brighton ice skating rink.

Requested by @onceuponadie Hi! Thank you so much for your request! I'm so sorry for the long wait but I still hope you find the time to enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

No matter how hard I try, I can't tie the laces of my skates properly. I can't tell what's wrong with me today but I know something's seriously not right. To be perfectly honest though, I might have an idea or two as to why this is happening to me but I'd rather keep my mouth shut on the subject to avoid the intense blush and the flock of butterflies that will inevitably attack my stomach. And I can't have that many distractions while I'm on the ice.

Oh who am I kidding, my main distraction is always there, either in front of me or by my side. Sometimes even holding onto me for support.

Dave Brown is the name of it.

The name I was completely indifferent to when it was first brought to my attention.

It was a cold rainy day in Brighton, the town I was still on-the-fence about at the time. My trainer had been wanting to collaborate with a trainer from the UK for a while and had finally scheduled and arranged for the two of us to be able to fly out there and meet with him. I thought my trainer was ambitious, but this this new guy was a whole new level of ambitious. I could tell right away he'd be hard to please and I had no issue with that - I am and I always have been a goal-getter; I myself am hard to please and I've often been called an 'obsessed artist' by my trainer so I was beyond excited for this new extraordinary and challenging journey.

I just didn't know that the challenging part wouldn't be the skating.

After a particularly long practice session, once I was finally left alone by my trainers, I stuck around at the skating rink to wind down and feel the freedom of skating how I want and how I know I'm supposed to. Free like a bird gliding through the sky, not bound by any choreography or anyone's rules and opinions. That's when I'm most myself.

And that's when I met him.

The rink was closed and suppose to be reserved for only me and my coaches for the day but him and his friends - now my friend too - Joel probably didn't think much of the notice on the door considering they had waltzed in with zero idea the vicinity was booked.

I was too entranced in my own world to notice their presence by the seats. I only took notice of the fact I wasn't alone when Joel called out to me.

"Are we interrupting? Is this a private session or something? We can leave, sorry for bothering you."

While the other boy was talking, Dave remained silent, blending into the background and not drawing any of my attention to him. And yes, maybe I was supposed to turn them back, tell them to leave and whatnot, but I did the exact opposite.

"Private session's over, you can stick around, it's not a problem." I said, slowly gliding over to the entrance of the rink where the boys were now standing after they finished climbing down the stairs to approach the ice rink.

I stopped in my tracks rather abruptly as to not crash into them, stabilizing myself before offering them my hand for a handshake. "I'm Y/N. Professional figure skater."

I couldn't help but let out a little giggle when their jaws went loose, hanging open in surprise. They were quick to regain their composure, Joel being the one to accept my hand first, followed by Dave, both of them introducing themselves as they did so.

"Cool streak." I casually pointed at the red streak in Dave's hair, "I've always wanted to dye my hair but I'm not allowed to by my trainer."

He scoffed at my remark, "Your trainer? He's got the audacity to boss you around? Does he not realize how lucky he is to have a skater like you to his name?"

I was understandably taken aback by this compliment. I'm used to being given compliments after my performances in competitions, but I've never considered my unchoreographed skating as anything more than mediocre. It was surprising to receive such a positive remark, heartwarming nonetheless though.

"That's so kind of you to say, Dave, thanks." I'm still a long way from knowing how to properly respond to compliments - mostly cause I don't believe them - but I'd like to think I handled that one well. No, I know I handled it well considering Dave, Joel and I have been friends ever since.

As to why they were at the skating rink that day - they wanted to fulfill a New Year's resolution they had made at the start of the year: learning how to ice skate because apparently they were hopeless at it. And yes, they were - they got on the ice with me that day and were dropping like flies. I considered it a miracle if they were even able to get off their asses on their own. I had to pull them up a couple of times - a gesture they paid me back for with lunch afterwards. Following that day, only Dave remained determined to make his resolution count and he kept coming to the ice rink to practice (read: fall and get back up) and learn with my help of course. It's safe to say I've never laughed so much in such a short period of time and never have I ever established a friendship so quickly with anyone ever. I guess being someone's ice skating buddy is a whole different level of a friendship where the rules of a regular friendship don't apply.

I soon came to realize why that was...

Because I suddenly found myself wanting more than a friendship with Dave. It's ridiculous as hell, as all goddamn hell, but I couldn't and still can't help myself. It's these little subtle signs that shine through my behavior, all completely unintentional. The lingering hold meant to keep him stable on his skates. The firm eye contact when I'm trying to get him to focus on his balance. The little touches and hugs all gestures meant to congratulate him on his little wins like falling and managing to get to his feet on his own; managing to make three solid strides without sprawling out on the ice, etc. I must be the worst ice skating instructor ever - as Dave gained more balance and needed my assistance less, I found myself missing the times I literally had to hold him up, his arms wrapped around me and mine around him. I miss the times he held my hand to avoid falling and still fell, sometimes dragging me down with him.

And I'm only gonna miss those times even more after tomorrow because after tomorrow, I'll no longer be in the UK and I'll no longer be there to see Dave's successes and fails. I'll no longer have him be my distraction, the only distraction I've ever approved of and wanted around. I'll no longer have a chance to feed into the temptation of telling Dave what I feel for him. It's a temptation and a fear and excites me just as much as it terrifies me, paralyzes me just thinking of the outcome, especially when I know I won't get my feelings reciprocated. I won't get anything better than a soft rejection from him yet I still want to come clean.

Why, you might be asking - well, it's rather simple, actually. I think he deserves to know how special he's made these last few months. How much he's made me fall in love with this city and the UK as a whole. How much I enjoyed our adventures both on and off the ice. How much fun I had going sightseeing with him as my tour guide.

How much I enjoyed his company and how hard I fell for him in the process.

Today's the last day of 'class' for the both of us but I just so happen to be the only one who's aware of it. Yeah, I've been one hell of a coward and never brought up my inevitable departure despite having been informed over a week ago. Exactly, I had a week to come clean about more things than one, but I chose silence.

And boy did that bad decision come to hit me against the back of the head like a boomerang. A mocking and particularly painful one at that.

Get it together, Y/N. One of these news you'll have to tell him, he has to know you're leaving. And the other...

"Sorry I'm late!" The familiar voice coming in a breathy yell from somewhere in the darkness surrounding the seats awakens me and frees me from my mind's battle with itself. "The rain only makes traffic worse."

Now or never. Don't drag it out and keep adding salt to the wound!

"I'm leaving!" I say, loud enough to be heard clearly despite our distance. Also loud enough to cover up the tremble in my voice. It took a lot of power just to say that one sentence, I wonder how I'm gonna power through having to explain it to him.

"Jeez, did I upset you that badly?" Dave surprises the hell out of me when he steps on the ice, already in his skates which I didn't even notice him put on. I'm not surprised by that to be honest, I'm too caught up in my own thoughts and how I'm displaying them in my demeanor to notice my surroundings.

"N-no, I..." so much for covering up that tremble in my voice, "I have to leave the UK...tomorrow...I'm going back home for a competition and to, you know, get ready for the Olympics...I don't know when or if I'll be back but I was hoping..."

"What? When'd you hear about this? Why so suddenly? Is it that big of an emergency that they inform you literally five minutes in advance?" There are enough emotions in his voice to prevent me from looking at his face, especially his eyes. I'm afraid of what kind of hurt or whatever other emotion I might see there.

I bite the inside of my cheek, "My trainer told me last week...", I admit, gritting my teeth and cringing as my stomach ties itself is several knots that are causing me great discomfort.

There's a pause which I'm assuming is meant for him to collect all his thoughts and properly process them. I'm afraid of what he'll say when he does.

"So I'm the one finding out five minutes before your departure?" He finally asks, the tone of voice he uses making my heart sink a little.

Damn it, Dave I already feel guilty enough, this is unnecessary!

No, no, he has a point and has every right to be upset. Friends don't keep friends in the dark about things like this. About any things really.

Then why do you keep him in the dark about literally EVERYTHING?

This is what I was afraid of - getting the temptation of coming clean. I have nothing to lose after all, I'm leaving tomorrow anyway. I'll lose him one way or another.

"Listen, Dave...", I didn't think this through but I'll improvise it, that's a better option than shutting my mouth and not saying another word, "I was gonna tell you, I really wanted to, but I couldn't...I couldn't bring myself to do it. I still don't want to believe that I'm leaving. I love it here and just the thought of leaving it all behind...it hurts, you know. And 'the more people know the realer it is' is a real thing so I didn't want...." I stop, my voice cutting off completely as I find myself weak on balance. Maybe standing in the middle of an ice rink isn't the best setting for this conversation. "I'm being ridiculous and I'm stalling like a coward." I say that more to myself than to him but I don't let him speak. Instead, I continue my rambling after a brief sigh.

Dave, God bless his soul, stays silent and just looks at me with this curious gaze which is letting me know he's holding back for my sanity's sake, allowing me to take a breather and collect my thoughts before I express them to avoid misunderstanding me.

I inhale, finally ready to start talking, "Alright, here we go...Look, I don't want to end this...friendship between us on a bad note but I don't want it to end with there still being secrets between us so I'm gonna finally say what I've been wanting and not wanting to tell you for a while now. It's on you whether it'll be a bad ending to a good story or not, but I just need to get it off my chest, ok?"

He nods, not at all as hesitantly as I thought he would which is relieving to see, so I continue.

"This is gonna sound pathetic and downright laughable but here it goes - I like you, Dave. The kind of like where I see you as more than a friend and sometimes even wish you would see me the same way as well despite being sure you don't. And please, if you plan on pulling a pity act give me a heads up so I can just walk aw-"

My ramble is put to an end when Dave puts his hand up, pointer finger in the air and almost touching my lips as a gesture to shush me. I am typically one of the hardest people to shut up EVER, but now the words die down on their own as if they are even happy to be put to rest at his request.

"Y/N you are the most talented, most graceful, the kindest and most beautiful and smartest person I have ever met and yet you still also happen to be the densest and most ignorant when it comes to the people around you. You're a people pleaser, I've figured out as much, but goddamn it, you rarely know what a person actually wants. I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, this could just be the case with me and an inability to show emotion which I haven't known about all this time, but still - if your dense ass hasn't noticed it yet I'll say it out loud for you and if you still find a way to misinterpret it, I'll spell it out for you in huge neon letters, got it?" He makes something barely alike a pause before sighing, "Y/N L/N, the most densest person in this whole word, you've had me star-struck since day one and I've only been falling deeper and harder in love with you ever since. And you don't have even the slightest clue of what happened to me and my heart a couple minutes ago when you said you were leaving. Believe what you wanna, but words have never crushed me harder ever before and trust me, that says a lot. So, before you go and think you have my emotions figured out, remember that I actually know how to skate."

That's A LOT to take in. It's got layers upon layers of questions followed by answers followed by even more questions that I'm not sure I'm prepared to ask or answer.

So he's liked me since the day we met? Love at first sight? Nah, that shit only exists in movies.

He was hurt by that? I hurt him by not telling him then I hurt him by telling him and I'll hurt him the hardest when I leave tomorrow. How am I supposed to not feel responsible for putting so much pain on him without even realizing it?

And wait - he knows how to skate???

"You can skate? Like, you can can skate? Like, you're not a hopeless case like you've made me believe?" I ask, one of my eyebrows shooting up suspiciously.

Dave goes from looking puzzled to cracking up with laughter within a second after hearing my question, "Oh Y/N, you're so adorable. That's what's got you puzzled the most out of all I just said?"

I narrow my eyes at him, folding my arms over my chest defensively, "Well the rest seems pretty cut-and-dry, if you ask me." I say sarcastically, earning another laugh from him.

It's only now that I notice how confidently he's standing on the ice - as though he's standing on solid, non-slippery ground which is far from the image I have of Dave while on ice. The uncertainty, the lack of stability, it's all disappeared from his still demeanor which now makes a lot more sense.

He smirks at me, "Does it now, densey?"

I frown at the nickname, "Don't call me th-"

He doesn't let me finish, instead presses his lips against mine, the contact making me lose balance on my skates. Luckily, he probably calculated this risk in advance cause his arms wrap around me instantly, preventing me from slipping more than an inch.

"Who needs to be held up now?" He asks, pressing his forehead against mine when we pull away from the kiss.

I keep my eyes closed despite the urge to roll them in playful annoyance, "Oh, shut it."

And he does so by pressing his lips against mine once again.

What will happen once I leave, I have not the slightest clue. Hell, I don't even know what'll happen when we pull away permanently and get off the ice we're standing on. But I do know what's happening right now - I'm kissing Dave Brown and nothing's ever felt this right before.

@waterlilypat @iwillboilyourteeth @insanedeathwish @onceuponadie @loraleiix @smiithys @rottenroyalebooks @goldenstarofthunderclan @cosmicstorm19 @lam-ila @sra-verissimo @marthebeeduosimp

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mayans-sauce · 3 years

Text

Interstellar: Chapter 1

Pairing: younger! EZ Reyes x Astra Beckett

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: cursing but other than that none.

Summary: Ezekiel and Astra get accepted into the space program. For context: both of them are 27 in this and EZ is more on the skinnier side to begin with.

Let me know if you want to be tagged/removed for this story!

GROUP CHAT for updates!

Introduction

Chapter 2

⭐️Interstellar Masterlist⭐️

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The Year 2052

Astra burst through the front door of the house, almost screaming at the top of her lungs, “IT CAME! IT CAME! Dad, it finally came.” Her dad got up from where he was working on the kitchen table. “From the academy?” “YES! We need to call EZ.”

Astra pulled out her laptop, calling EZ on a video call. He answered within a second. “I was just about to call. Did you get yours?” She held the big envelope in view. Felipe and Marisol were standing right beside their son, waiting for him to open up the envelope. “Let’s open them up and then read it at the same time,” EZ said. She could see the terrified look on his face; hers must look the same as well. This was the moment of truth, what both had been working towards for years. Tearing it open and pulling the letter out. “Alright, EZ, on three, and then we read it. Ready?” “1, 2, 3.”

Dear Astra Beckett,

The Celestial Academy would like to congratulate you on your place in our space program.

“WE GOT IN!” EZ and Astra exclaimed at the same time. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” Her dad embraced her hard and tight. A single tear was falling off his face. In the background, it could be heard EZ’s parents congratulating and hugging him as well. “What more does it say?” Felipe asked his son. EZ read the rest of the letter.

We would like to welcome you and your family for a tour of our top-class institution, where you will be getting an introduction to our one of a kind program, our teachers and teaching, our revolutionary technology, the dormitories, and so much more.

We can’t wait to make you a part of our family and spend the next five years with you, making you a one-of-a-kind astronaut.

“We did it, Astra.”

“We did it, Ezekiel.”

Packing a few clothes, some books, space-themed posters and decorations, her telescope her dad got her when she was ten years old and a few other things. She didn’t need a lot with her since this was a new chapter of her life, and she was sure she would buy a lot more stuff in the five years they would be there.

The next day

The next day they were early on their way. The drive to the academy wasn’t a long one. It was just 4 hours from Santo Padre. It was a nice little road trip for all. EZ’s brother Angel tagged along as well, who was also a good friend of Astra, so it was good that Felipe had space for all in his seven-seater car.

The Celestial Academy was like a little city, a city full of nerds and the newest technology in the world. Just getting into the area required special permission, and guards were standing at every campus entrance.

“Holy shit,” Astra and EZ said at the same time as they entered the gates with the car. The buildings stood tall and proud, different holograms showcasing the academy’s various aspects, hovering supply trucks moving from building to building with supplies, and so much more. It was so much to take in, and it would take a long time for them to get used to it all. Felipe parked the car at the visitor’s parking garage.

The walk up to the academy’s main building was short but long at the same time, with the nerves running through both of them. Astra could feel her heart almost jumping out of her chest with how fast it was beating. She grabbed EZ’s hand for comfort. “It’s gonna be fine. We can do this,” he comforted her. She knew she would be able to do this with her best friend by her side. “I know. I’m glad I have you by my side EZ.” He smiled at her, showing that he was grateful that she was here with him as well.

When they entered the building, they were welcomed with a big sign that said “Welcome New Recruits” written on it. They followed the rest of the people into the big speaking room where all the other recruits and their families were seated. The lights dimmed down, and the one and only founder of the academy walked out on stage and started speaking but not before getting a big welcome from everyone.

“Welcome recruits. My name is Damien, founder of this institution, and it is my pleasure to welcome you all here. When I started this program some 30 years ago, I didn’t think that it would turn out to be the best and most desirable space program in the entire world. But in the 30 years we have operated, around 200 individuals have become world-class astronauts with various specialties.” The room burst out in applause. “For the 30 of you that have made it into the program, I congratulate you for the hard work and sacrifice that has made it possible for you to have been accepted. But there is no time for celebrations yet. Not all of you will make it.” The room was dead silent now. “Almost 50% of you will buckle under the immense pressure of the program and leave within the first year. That’s when the real competition begins. Just 6 of you will be picked out for space travel after three years here and start the real training while the rest of you will be guaranteed education and a job at this institution. It’s going to be a hard five years, folks. The rest of the people on this campus, and I wish you good luck.” Damien got sent off with applause and hollering from everyone in the room. “Fuck, that was scary,” EZ whispered to Astra. “We can do this, Ezekiel. I know we can.” Now it was her turn to encourage and comfort him.

There was given some information about what was going to happen throughout the day. Free food, games, and a tour of the facilities was on the plan before eventually, all friends and family needed to leave.

Later in the day

After a fun last day with the family, it was time to say goodbye. Astras' dad tried his best not to cry, but he couldn’t help himself. His little girl was all grown up, and now her real journey would begin. “Dad… don’t cry… it's gonna be fine,” Astra hugged her old man as hard as she could. “I’m just so proud of you, my little star. Your mom would be so proud,” he said as he kissed her forehead. “Stop it, now I’m the one that’s crying.” “Just promise me you'll visit… I’ll be all sad and alone in the big house without you.” She nodded her head at him, “I promise I'll visit as much as I can… I promise, dad.” “Pinky promise?” Holding his pinky out for her to interlock with hers, she gladly did so, “I promise.”

“Come here, Ezekiel. My little astronaut,” Marisol hugged and kissed his cheek repeatedly. EZ loved his mom and the affection she would give him, but now it was kind of embarrassing since there were so many people. “Mom… mom.” “I’m sorry, baby. I’m just so proud of you, and I love you so much.” “I love you too, mom.” He gave her a final hug before he moved on to his dad. “Proud of you, son.” “Thanks, pop.” They gave each other a quick hug.

Last but not least, it was Angel’s turn to say his goodbyes. “Proud of you lil bro, you fucking space nerd.” “Shut up, Angel,” EZ said playfully before giving his big brother a big hug. “Don’t cause any trouble now that I’m not there.” Angel held his hands up in defence, “Hey, can’t promise anything.” EZ just shook his head at him.

Saying the last goodbyes to each other, and then they left, leaving Astra and EZ to watch them walk away. When they were out of sight, he turned towards her and grabbed her hand, “come on, let’s get settled into the dormitory.”

Astra walked into her assigned room and was greeted by the girl she was going to live with. She had already set up most of the stuff on her side of the room. The room was huge and spacious, and it even had a private bathroom. “Hi, I’m Mia, nice to meet you,” she reached out her hand, which Astra gladly accepted, “I’m Astra, it’s nice to meet you, Mia.” “I hope you don’t mind that I took the left side of the room.” “Go ahead, no problem.” They talked and got to know each other as they packed out their things and put them in place. Astra liked Mia a lot, they had a lot in common, and she knew that they would be great friends. “I can’t believe we are here; it’s so surreal,” Mia said as they got done packing out and sat on their beds. “I know, right! I’m afraid that I’ll wake up tomorrow, and it was all a dream,” Astra answered.

Before bed, all the recruits meet up with the teachers to get their plan for the next few upcoming weeks and the whole five-year plan as a whole. EZ was already buddies with his roommate, Mateo, and all 4 of them clicked immediately, already forming a good group and friendship of their own.

Later in the evening

Astra was trying her hardest to fall asleep; it was a big day tomorrow, the first official day ever, but her mind was racing like crazy, and she couldn’t get it to quiet down. She decided to get up and go out to the common room to take her mind off it for a while, sitting down by the window that overlooked the futuristic town. After a few minutes, footsteps could be heard, and she turned around to see who it was. Her frown turned into a smile when she saw him coming towards her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” EZ asked as he sat down beside her. She shook her head no, “my mind won’t shut up.” “Yeah, me neither.” They sat in silence for a few moments before EZ spoke up. “In 5 years, we will be up there,” he pointed towards the sky. “You don’t know that Ezekiel… there are 30 of us, and only 6 make it.” “I know we'll make it. We have each other, Astra, and you are the smartest girl I know. Even if I don’t make it, you will.” “You know I will never go if you aren’t going either.” “I know… but I will force you to go. Even if I have to push you in the spaceship myself.” Astra looked down on the floor, getting shy for a moment, “I know you will, Zeke.”

She started biting her nails, a habit she did when she felt nervous, and EZ knew that, he knew everything about her. “Hey, stop that,” EZ took her hand in his, “it's gonna be fine.” “It’s gonna be fine,” she repeated in a whisper.

They sat like that for a little while longer. Just holding each other’s hand and looking up towards the sky, getting prepared for the next five years of their life.

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Let me know what you think❤️

Interstellar Taglist (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @yourwonkywriter @spnaquakindgdom @fuchszie @noz4a2

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superworldunkown · 4 years

Text

Shea it ain’t so

It almost be winter out here. My skin is dry, I must hydrate with moisturizer, and some Baku-POC. It’s what best for my soul during these hard times.

Enjoy

Summary: Do not mess with a black girl’s skincare routine. Mineta, I’m talking to you. Bakugo x POC reader

I wish Bakugou would look at me like he do this pen

“Where’s Mineta?!” Was the question that escaped your lips as you dramatically burst open the doors to the Class 1-A dorms.

Bakugou, Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari and Mina were hanging out in the common area, all of them absolutely shocked by your outburst.

“Did she just ask for Mineta?” Kirishima asked.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard a girl ask for Mineta before.” Sero added.

Mina chewed her gum nervously, “This might be the last time we see him alive guys.”

‘The fuck she want him for...’ was Bakugou’s thought. He dare not say that out loud.

The squeal of the boy in question rang in the common room as Mineta jumped from his chair in the dining area and dashed towards his dorm room, you following close behind.

“Get back here, you pervert!”

The group looked at each other nervously before quickly following. Bakugou stayed behind for a brief moment before getting up himself.

Luckily for Mineta, he made it to his room in time, slamming the door shut and clicking a series of locks on the other side. You never let a piece of wood get in your way before so you spent the next three minutes pounding the door and aggressively working the handle.

“You can’t hide in there forever!! I will find you, and when I do i’ll-”

“Whoa, easy there.” Kirishima made the first attempt to calm you, but it was a futile effort, “If you break the door down Ida’s definitely going to tell Mr. Aizawa-”

Your response was both dramatic and dripping with truth, “I fear no man.”

Needless to say, Bakugou was a little smitten. Most of the time, you were a very level headed individual who didn’t let things get too under your skin. But, like any person, you had your stressors and triggers, and when they were touched and poked you went from zero to 100, with no breaks in between.

Your eyebrows would narrow and your face would scrunch into a snarl that was truly terrifying. But, Bakugou noticed, despite how made you were, that the dimples that would still crease in your cheeks. You often threw your hands on your hips, your ultimate ‘i’m going to murder you’ power pose. It was that motion that made Bakugou notice the curves of your body and just how strong (and attractive) you were.

You also swore and/or spoke in complete sentences in your native English language when you got really angry. And while Bakugou was still finessing his translation skills, it was just all around a wonder to see you in all your pissed glory.

“Is everything okay, sis?” Mina’s voice was extra gentle in a attempt to soothe the tensions in the hallway.

You let out an extra loud sigh before releasing the handle and stepping back from the door. Bringing your hands to your face you groaned, “Do any of you even know how hard it is to find products that work for me on campus?”

Before anyone could even answer you continued, “Of course you don’t. I use a very, very special and very limited quantity shea butter moisturizer that the campus store only gets in once a semester and this asshole!” She threw her arms in the direction of Mineta’s door, “bought every last bottle and I have nothing! And it’s backlogged everywhere and I wont be able to get it shipped from the US for MONTHS!”

“I told you we could share.” Mineta’s voice was heard from the other end of the door.

“I’m not sharing ANYTHING with you!”

Mina drew a finger to chin, “Wait, why does Mineta need three bottles of moisturizer, he’s like, tiny.”

All the guys looked in her direction, including Bakugou. Then, it finally clicked, “...MINETA!!! GROSS!”

Another unrecognizable sound escaped your lips, hands making their way onto your hips. Despite the diversity of U.A, you were still one of three black students in the entire campus. It didn’t bother you too much. And while you had always had to deal with adjusting to cultures that didn’t particularly recognize or value your own, you were always good at finding comfort in the little things, like keeping your luxuriously brown skin smooth and soft at all times. But now that was ruined, by a miniature pervert.

“Forget it! I’m leaving.” You spoke suddenly while brushing past everyone. Mina ended up chasing after you, her helpful brain trying desperately to come up with any and all solutions to remedy your mood and skin situation.

“Well that was weird.” Kaminari said while crossing his arms.

“Girls are weird.” Sero nodded in agreement.

Kirishima, being the signature best boy and captain of the non existent respect women club chided, “C’mon guys. It’s a big deal to her. That’s like...someone taking the last....video game at the store or something. Not manly.”

“Don’t you mean, not womanly?”

“Yeah and girls play video games too ya’know.”

Bakugou walked away before the argument spiraled into a true place of stupidity. Besides, he needed to make a phone call.

**Two weeks later

“Bakugou I’m coming in-Hey?! I said I was coming in!” You went through three emotions while you stepped into the boys dorm. Confidence, fear and anger.

Fear and anger deriving from the small explosion that nearly grazed your face from the boy who was apparently not expecting your sudden arrival, despite your clear announcement.

“Don’t you knock dumbass!”

“I’m not a dumbass A,” You responded, “And B, I said I was coming in.”

Once his red pupils returned to a normal size and his heartrate returned to a normal beat, Bakugou lessened his naturally tense shoulders, “Well, whadya want?”

You gave him a rather coy smile, “Just curious how a package of my very expensive, very limited edition, only made in the US skincare products came to my dorm room this afternoon.”

Despite his nervousness, he kept a strong front, “Is that so? Well, it looks like Raccoon Eye’s stupid idea to calm you down worked.”

“...Didn’t I overhear that your parents were in America a few weeks ago? Bakugou...you didn’t have anything to do with Mina’s ‘stupid idea to calm me down’, did you?”

Did Bakugou have a hand in the idea? Did he spend twenty agonizing minutes on the phone screaming with his mother to pick up the stupid exclusive skincare products while she and his dad were on a work trip in the United States? Did he eventually admit that it was for a girl in the dorms, which caused twenty more minutes of his mother aggressively probing him on who it was and when she would get to meet her and how he never tells her anything going on in his life anymore and how he really needed to take anger management classes if he was ever going to get you to put up with him if he ever did work the nerves to ask you out? Was all of this true?!

“Tch, like I would be involved in a dumb idea like that.”

You took your time rolling your eyes, “Well...I’ll go thank Mina then. I think I’ll say,” you looked Bakugou directly into his red eyes as you continued, “That was very sweet and kind of you. And I really appreciate the care and effort...and what a great guess that lavender vanilla was my favorite scent, even though the campus store never carried that smell. I’ll definitely have to make it up to you sometime soon.” Your grin was so wide it was almost devilish. “How did that sound, Bakugou?”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x poc #bakugo #mha #mha poc #bakugou poc #poc reader #bnha

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olivinesea · 3 years

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A Mixed Blessing

Chapter List

chapter three: counting up the exits

a/n: Alright, fun’s over. We’re getting into the thick of it now. Warnings for substance use, abuse, panic attacks, vomit, scars (idk let me know if I need to be tagging more things please, I really don’t know. I feel like if you’ve found your way here you probably know what you’re getting into but I could be wrong.) Love you all <3 ~5k

It surprised no one when Aaron started cutting class in high school. He didn’t usually have any plans, just headed toward the fields, trying to stay out of sight. He may already have been considered a lost cause as a freshman but that didn’t mean an adult wouldn’t stop him, demand he return to whatever class he was missing. And that wouldn’t do, that would only ruin his good mood. At first he had been leaving class to better enjoy the high his mother’s pills provided but when that ended he continued to wander. It was much nicer outside than in the building where people stared at him, whispered about him, called him names. He kicked at rocks as he slunk behind the portables in the field. They had been put up during a population surge, only to sit empty, waiting on some future use or someone to be motivated enough to tear them down.

He slowed when he caught sight of a group of students standing next to the last building. They were circled together, backs to him for the most part. He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to approach. If he'd learned one thing, it was to avoid situations where he stood out. Walking up to a group of random older kids was definitely something to steer clear of. As he was trying to decide, a boy on the far side of the circle looked up and made eye contact. Aaron’s heart beat faster, breathing became short and though he wanted to run, he couldn’t get his legs to cooperate. The boy smiled slowly, his mouth a little too wide.

As if he was being pulled by some unseen thread, Aaron took a step forward, then another. Even though his mind was telling him to turn, to leave whatever this was alone, he found that he wanted to know more. No one ever smiled at him and it made him feel both uncomfortable and something else he couldn’t quite name. He twisted his fingers in the fabric of his sleeves that he’d pulled down over his hands. A chill air current danced across the back of his neck, whispering words he couldn’t comprehend. The cold made his ears ache.

He was close enough now to hear them talking, laughter and some grumbling from whoever was the butt of the joke. No one had noticed him yet aside from the boy who’d smiled at him. He felt his heart in his throat, worried he might throw up from the anxiety of this choice, this incredibly foolish choice. The boy looked at him again with that same peculiar smile. He seemed amused by Aaron’s nervous, stilted approach. Still several feet away from the group, the urge to flee overwhelmed him. His muscles tensed, preparing to run, half a thought went towards how ridiculous he would seem when they finally noticed him as he raced away. Just as he was turning, a voice called out, raised above the rest of the conversation.

“Hey kid, come here.”

Aaron’s shoulders rose up to his ears, bristling at being addressed like that but also helpless to the attention. Normally he’d do the opposite, flat out refuse to acknowledge this stranger’s demand, but the voice sank into him like a hook. He looked back at the group, now all eyes staring at him, questions clear on their faces. He bit his lip before he could stop himself. There were too many people looking at him and he hated it. He could imagine how he looked to them—too skinny, too pale, drowning in his own clothes and the bruising that shadowed his eyes. He’d gotten taller but barely looked old enough to be a high school student even though he would turn fifteen in a few months. This had been a stupid idea.

“What’s your name?” The other boy’s voice cut through the air, pinning him in place.

“Aaron,” he mumbled, suspicious he’d been dragged into this only to be mocked (or worse).

“You a freshman?” There were chuckles around the group. He nodded reluctantly, eyes darting to the ground, unable to look at any of them directly.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” A different voice, this one female and clearly irritated by the interruption he’d caused.

He looked up to glare at the speaker, not enjoying being teased. “Shouldn’t you?”

While the girl directed a bitter scowl at him, the first boy snorted, holding up his hands. “Fine, fine, we all make our own choices I guess.”

Aaron frowned at that statement, unsure what to make of it. The rest of the group lost interest and returned to their previous conversation, widening the circle just enough to leave space for him. He shoved his hands in his pockets to stop from fidgeting and took the few remaining steps towards the group. He couldn’t bring himself to completely join them so he hung back half a step, always ready to make a quick getaway. When he looked up, that same boy was still watching him. Up close Aaron could see he had freckles, which felt out of place somehow. They suggested a sort of innocence that the rest of his face, all sharp angles and dark, calculating eyes completely contradicted.

The person next to him handed the boy a joint. He continued to stare at Aaron as he took a drag, closing his eyes only as he inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs. He reached across the circle to hand the joint to Aaron, skipping several people who muttered in annoyance but no one complained too loudly. Their fingers touched as he passed off the half burned joint. Aaron had never smoked before but he was more than willing to try. He was certainly not going to turn it down in front of half a dozen upperclassmen.

“Make sure you inhale all the way,” he instructed.

Aaron did, coughing as the smoke came back out, scraping his throat. There was some laughter but mostly they were indifferent to him. The only one paying any attention to him was the boy with the strange smile; it wasn’t friendly and it unnerved Aaron. He tried to hand the joint back as he smothered another cough.

“Again,” he said, eyes intense.

Aaron blinked at him. The boy waved his hand in encouragement or impatience. Aaron flinched at the unexpected movement but tried to hide it by doing as he was told, bringing the joint back to his lips and taking another drag. This time was a little easier though he wasn’t sure he liked the way it made his face feel hot and his eyes water. The other boy accepted this time when he tried to return it. Already the edges of his vision were softening, his chest felt like it was being wrapped in something warm. He hugged his arms around himself, feeling very out of place, the sounds of the others talking fading in and out like a stereo speaker with a bad connection.

He looked up again moments or minutes later and the older boy was still watching him with that same expression. Aaron was finally able to place it, the narrowed eyes and too many teeth self-satisfied grin of a cat who’d caught a bird. He laughed at the absurdity of this thought. He laughed and he found that he couldn’t stop laughing. He crouched down, hugging himself tighter to try to stem the laughter that way.

“Oh no, you got the baby high, Cole,” he heard someone say. He wondered who they were talking about. Who was the baby and who was Cole; he was unable to make the association. There weren’t any babies here. Sean was a baby and he was at home. He had almost managed to stop laughing but thinking about Sean being here, so out of place with his golden curls, his innocent smile, made him start to giggle again. He started coughing as he choked on his own saliva, muscles lazily not performing their assigned tasks of conducting fluids where they belonged. He felt a hand pounding his back and he tried to roll away from the pain it caused, unsuccessfully biting back a moan. He closed his eyes, vaguely embarrassed but also not fully aware of his surroundings anymore. He knew he was outside because he felt the damp grass beneath him, pressing against his cheek. How did he end up laying on the ground? He tried to breathe but his lungs didn’t seem to be taking directions anymore. He grabbed at his chest with frantic fingers.

“Hey,” this voice was quiet, much closer to him than before. He felt a hand placed carefully on his shoulder, barely any pressure this time, a dragonfly lighting on the water. He was too confused to open his eyes, too afraid he’d made his way back home somehow—why couldn’t he remember? Why couldn’t he just get his lungs to expand?

“You’re fine.” The statement was more command than reassurance. Aaron tried to place the voice, thoughts flashing through his mind at an alarming rate. Each time he tried to catch one, they sped by faster. He’d almost gotten it but he was so distracted by the chill transferring from the individual blades of grass, the water drops becoming wet patches on his shirt. He should have more layers on, the weather was changing already. The hand shook his shoulder a little, bringing him back to the present.

“Look at me.”

He cracked his eyes open reluctantly, unable to disobey even though he was terrified he’d be met with the dark eyes of his father, that he’d find this was only the set up for something horrible. He didn’t know what to think when his vision was met with that freckled face, no longer smiling, a slight frown of concern along with a clinical curiosity. He touched his fingers to Aaron’s exposed collarbone.

“Inhale,” he said and Aaron wondered if time had made a loop—how many times had this happened already? The cool pressure on his chest distracted him from the thought and he did as he was told. The flood of oxygen immediately relaxed his constricted limbs. The boy, Cole, nodded encouragingly. “Again.”

Aaron closed his eyes to focus better, all he felt was the air filtering into his lungs and the fingers splayed against his chest, guiding it there. A few more breaths and he knew where he was again, finally locating himself in space and time. With this awareness came the full force of his embarrassment. He blushed as he pushed himself upright, curling his fists so tightly his nails dug deep into his palms. Cole looked at him from his position squatting beside him, hands on his knees, trying to be certain the younger boy wouldn’t collapse again.

“Are you coming?” someone called. The group had moved down the field, heading someplace more interesting. They’d had enough of the small drama of some inexperienced kid overdoing it. It was time to get away from campus before a teacher took notice. Cole ignored them, watching Aaron’s slow recovery. Aaron felt dizzy, still lightheaded from lack of air. His sides ached from laughing but he couldn’t remember what had been so funny. Cole stood and extended a hand down to Aaron.

“Come on.”

Aaron couldn’t decline even if he’d wanted to.

From that day forward Aaron found himself trailing this group around whenever he couldn’t stand being in class anymore. He’d sneak away from the building and down to the field where he’d find a few of them lingering. Sometimes only two or three, sometimes more. They never said much to him but no one told him to go away. Cole was usually there and while Aaron would swear he could feel his eyes watching him, he didn’t speak much to him either. When they’d leave campus, he would follow them to the woods where they’d taken over an abandoned shed. Over time teens with the same ideas had dragged logs and old couches around to lounge on as they got high and drank warm bottles of malt liquor. Aaron always tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, half-certain they would yell at him to leave if they realized he was tagging along, leaching off their pot and alcohol. At first he only took sips, pretending to drink but wanting to stay alert to the people around him, not trusting any of them. But eventually, as they continued to ignore him, he relaxed into the habit.

After the first panicked experience of getting high, he had a much better time, taking smaller hits until he built up his tolerance. Sometimes it made him giggly but mostly he liked to just lay on one of the stained couch cushions and stare at the branches above, eyes unfocused, colors blurring. He listened to the birds and the voices around him and the way they blended together, layering to make a song only he could hear. He didn’t notice the dirty looks he got from one girl, Amy, whenever Cole sat beside him, passing him a bottle of something he certainly didn’t need more of. He’d gotten better at drinking than when he was a child, no longer as prone to getting sick, but he still didn’t eat enough not to need to be careful.

On a Tuesday later in the year, a couple months since he’d started hanging around with the older kids, he didn’t find anyone when he went down to the field. But he’d already left class so he decided to go on to the shed on his own, perhaps they’d left early that day. The day was overcast and starting to drizzle. He pulled the hood of his ratty sweatshirt over his head while the mist collected and dripped off his dark bangs into his face. When he got to the clearing, he didn’t see anyone there either. It was too wet to sit outside so he pushed the door to the shed open. It was dim inside and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust as he heard scuffling noises.

“What the fuck!” a girl’s voice shrieked.

Aaron realized what he’d walked in on and stumbled back quickly. He knew he should run but he just kept backing up slowly, heels sinking into the soft forest floor, unable to take his eyes off the partially closed door. Less than a minute later it swung open again, a tall shape emerging from the dimness. It was Cole, pushing his hair back off his forehead with one hand, adjusting the waist of his jeans with the other. They locked eyes and that smile was back, the one that made Aaron’s skin crawl but drew him in at the same time.

“Come here kid.”

Aaron hated that he gave in so easily but he changed direction, retracing his steps. Once he was within reach, Cole grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. A camp lantern had appeared from somewhere, throwing shadows and providing just enough light to see the scowl on Amy’s face as she finished straightening her top. Cole pushed Aaron down onto one of the cushions on the floor. She curled her lip in distaste at Aaron before turning on Cole. “I don’t understand why you let this kid hang around. He’s a total creep.”

Aaron frowned and tried to shrink into his sweatshirt. He didn’t want to be there either.

“Now that’s not very nice,” Cole replied, mockingly stern. He dug around in his worn backpack, pulling out a bottle of cheap whiskey. “Look you made him feel bad. Better say sorry.” He still sounded like he was teasing but there was a hard edge in his voice, his eyes were watching her reactions, unblinking. “Maybe a little kiss will help.”

Amy scoffed, looking between Aaron, who was wishing he could disappear, and Cole, who was unscrewing the cap of the bottle.

“Fuck you Cole,” she spat and then stomped out of the building. The thin walls shook as she slammed the door. Cole shrugged and flicked the cap away. It vanished into the shadows beyond the range of the lantern. He took a gulp then pressed it into Aaron’s hands as he sat down alongside him, leaning against the wall. Aaron hesitated, he’d never been alone with Cole, with any of them, and he wasn’t sure what to expect.

Cole noticed and smirked. “Need help kid?”

Aaron’s pride flared, he hated it when they called him that, the way they acted like he was so young, too young to know anything. But he knew plenty, far more than they could ever imagine. He lifted the bottle to his lips and swallowed, wincing down the sharp gasoline fumes. It had been awhile since he’d had any real liquor. The others always showed up with beers and forties that they were able to steal or shoulder tap from the bums in the liquor store parking lot. He wasn’t surprised to find Cole watching his reaction closely. He was always watching. Silently, he nodded his chin, indicating the bottle, so Aaron drank again. He tried to ignore the feeling of discomfort, the voice in his head mocking him for becoming so compliant.

He’d spent the last few weeks watching Cole out of the corner of his eye, seeing how the others treated him differently. They might tease and rough house with each other but never with him. And when Cole said an argument was settled, that was the end of it, regardless of whether the parties involved felt their complaints had been satisfied. There was something about him that was both frightening and compelling, sending a shiver up Aaron’s spine when he thought of him. He had been trying to figure it out and thought it must be related to the way Cole’s eyes never seemed to blink as he stared so intently. It always made him uncomfortable, made him assume he was in the wrong somehow. The part that confused Aaron the most though, was that he’d do anything to fix it. Even not knowing what was wrong, he felt the need to make it right, to win the older boy’s approval. Cole silently took the bottle from Aaron’s fingers as he was lost in contemplation of this stranger he was suddenly in such close quarters with. It felt like being too close to a wild animal. Something with too much intelligence that was just biding its time until it could strike.

Cole leaned his head back against the wall, letting the bottle hang from his fingers in between his bent knees. He closed his eyes and sighed, tired of the world already at seventeen.

“Hotchner.”

He said it so quietly Aaron almost didn’t catch it. He flicked his eyes over to Cole who hadn’t moved. Maybe he was hearing things now.

“That’s you, right?” He was looking at Aaron again, expression impossible to interpret beneath the rippling shadows cast by the tree branches as they swayed in the wind.

Aaron nodded slowly, unsure where this was going. He’d never told any of them his last name but there was no reason to think that they wouldn’t be able to figure it out. The town was not all that large. He passed the bottle back again. Aaron couldn’t even taste it anymore. His head was starting to swim.

“Your dad’s the lawyer right?”

“Mhm,” Aaron didn’t really want to answer but didn’t see how he could lie about it either. Cole laughed at the scowl on his face. Defiantly he took another swallow.

“Not too fond of the old man?”

Aaron lifted a shoulder, noncommittal. Even drunk he was not about to start talking about his father with anyone.

“Mm, not sharing. That’s alright.” He pulled rolling papers and a bag of pot out of his back pocket. Aaron hoped that would be the end of that line of questioning. It was quiet for a few minutes as Cole focused on breaking apart a bud.

“I don’t have a dad,” he said as if continuing some conversation they hadn’t quite started. “Or a mom, really.”

Aaron snorted, too drunk now to be careful with his reactions. “‘fcourse you do. That’s stupid.”

Cole looked up from his task, amused by this outburst. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

The way he said it suggested something dark and twisted but Aaron shied away from the bait, opting to drink more rather than wade deeper into whatever that was. Cole resumed rolling the joint, placing it to his lips and lighting it when it was ready.

“Who—“ Aaron wanted to ask who takes care of you but that sounded too juvenile. He was already annoyed with how they treated him like a little kid. He settled on, “Where do you live?”

Cole exhaled, blowing the smoke into Aaron’s face. “My grandma’s got a basement where I crash sometimes.”

Aaron didn’t ask what he did the rest of the time, just accepted the joint that was being passed to him. He brought it to his lips with unsteady fingers. He was just aware enough to know this was a terrible idea, but Cole’s steady gaze on him wouldn’t let him stop now. He could do anything the other boy could do. He would do anything the other boy wanted him to do. It hardly made sense but this older boy—who didn’t know him, who he had nothing to offer to— nevertheless, this boy was paying attention to him in a way that no one else did. The only other person who was ever this aware of his existence was his father and that was never a good awareness. They continued smoking and drinking in silence as it started to rain in earnest.

“I hate him.” Aaron’s voice was raw with fury, the feeling so strong he was on the verge of tears. Cole nodded lazily, too stoned or too disinterested to form a reply. But now that he’d started, Aaron couldn’t stop thinking about every bad thing that had ever happened to him at the hands of his father, of how his mother just let it happen, of how no one had ever bothered to notice. His breathing sped up. He needed Cole to understand, to believe him and to acknowledge that his life, his experiences were real. He felt a sudden intense certainty that if he couldn’t have just one person look at him and see what was really there, he would disappear completely, never more than an irritation, swatted away by a distracted hand. He leaned forward on his hands, swaying unsteadily as he tried to make eye contact with Cole. For some reason he wouldn’t stay in one place, his image swinging from side to side. Aaron shook his head, hoping to clear it. The other boy lifted the nearly empty bottle to his mouth, lifting an eyebrow at this behavior, eyes bloodshot and hollow.

“I—“ Aaron couldn’t finish his thought. His stomach muscles seized and everything he’d consumed over the past day forcefully came back up, spraying across both Cole and himself. He coughed, nearly choking as he doubled over, forehead touching the dirty floor, scraping against it with his fingernails, trying to find purchase on the violently tilting horizon. Cole swore loudly, dropping and breaking the bottle in his attempt to move away from the mess. The smell of the spilled alcohol, so close to Aaron’s nose was too much and he threw up again, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t remember what had been so important just moments before, all he could do was pray he would be forgiven. He didn’t have a lot of hope.

“Goddamnit,” Cole muttered, moving away from the broken glass and liquid mess. Aaron felt a hand pulling on the back of his sweatshirt and cowered, putting his arms above his head, unable to operate on anything but instinct. Cole tugged a little harder, dragging him away from the mess he’d created.

“I’m sorry,” Aaron sobbed, wishing he didn’t exist, regretting his earlier insistence on being noticed. Cole pulled him to his feet none too gently and Aaron braced himself for the hit he knew was coming, the hit he knew he deserved. Instead he felt fingers pulling up the hem of his sweatshirt, he snapped his arms to his sides and tried to back away but stumbled back into a broken and worn office chair someone had lifted from the school. He sat heavily, barely saving himself from falling onto the floor as the chair rocked unevenly. He gripped the sides of the seat so hard his knuckles turned white and, though he wanted to close his eyes, he also wanted to see what was coming, wanted to prepare himself.

Cole stared at him for a minute, incredulous, then shrugged. He pulled his own soiled shirt off in a single motion, hooking the back of the collar to bring it over his head so none of the vomit came into contact with his skin. He balled it up, wrapping the clean fabric around the outside and dropped it on the floor. When he was finished he noticed Aaron staring at him, staring at his chest. He looked down, tracing a finger over the long purple scar that ran from the bottom of his ribs almost to his hip bone, dark against his exposed skin.

“Like it?” he asked mildly. “It’s got a partner,” he said as he turned, showing another dark scar, not as long but thicker, near the middle of his back. There were other, smaller scars, some Aaron recognized as the circular prints left by the lit end of cigarettes. When he turned back around, Aaron’s eyes were large and round, unable to comprehend what he’d been shown. Cole scratched at the long scar a little self consciously.

“My mom was real into meth and uh…well she thought I was trying to steal from her one time.” He shifted from foot to foot, pressing his fingertips against his scar. “It was a long time ago,” he added.

“You said you didn’t have a mom,” Aaron said stupidly after the silence became unbearable.

Cole’s eyes grew dark. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

Aaron shivered, promising himself he’d just shut up from here on out. Cole ran a hand through his sandy blond hair, it appeared brown in the dim lighting.

“Are you going to take that off or what?”

Aaron looked down at himself, he was covered in vomit. Seeing it made him aware again of the smell and the nausea and he raced to pull it off, forgetting that he too had something to hide. He was too intoxicated to be coordinated and his shirt came off along with the sweatshirt and he was left exposed from the waist up, just the same as Cole. It was the other boy’s turn to stare, to assess the range of injuries inflicted by the marks left behind. Aaron might not have anything as dramatic but he made up for that in quantity. Aaron forced himself not to close in on himself, to allow the other boy the same time to observe that he’d been given. He couldn’t meet his gaze though, looking out the window as his cheeks burned red with humiliation.

The silence stretched out and he started to think that he would be left standing there forever. That he was too broken, even for someone who knew what Cole knew, who had experienced a similar kind of pain. He squeezed his eyes shut to try to stop the tears, telling himself he was stupid, so stupid to have thought it was at all the same. He was startled when he felt cool fingertips on his chin, turning his face.

“It’s gonna be okay.” He said it quietly, like he knew this was Aaron’s deepest, most shameful desire. He left him for a moment, walking in a wide arc around the mess. Aaron stood chewing on his lip, trying to remain composed. He came back with a sweater he’d pulled out of his backpack. Instead of handing it to him, he pulled it on over Aaron’s head, carefully guiding his arms into the sleeves. It was too big, but clothes were always too big on him, and the fabric was soft and warm. When Aaron was dressed again, Cole pulled on his jacket, a dark canvas, faded at the elbows with frayed drawstrings. He left the zipper undone and Aaron could just see the edge of his scar. It pulled his gaze like a magnet. He couldn’t help staring; too much had just happened for him to process and he hung on this one detail, this proof that he wasn’t alone.

He believed the scar was evidence that there was one person who had lived a life like his and still managed to move through the world unbroken. He didn’t know yet how scar tissue, like icebergs and secrets, grew larger and more twisted the deeper one looked. He wanted to believe in a life with simple answers, with safe endings to stories like his. See, here’s proof. He wanted to touch Cole’s scars, absorb them through his palms as if he could absorb a resolution to his own pain, as if it would make everything stop long enough for all his own wounds to heal over, to scar and become long ago stories instead of the next act waiting in the wings.

Cole zipped his jacket closed, blocking Aaron’s view and breaking off his feverish train of thought. Cole looked at him with a complicated mix of emotion. There was tenderness but also hunger. Aaron couldn’t decipher what that meant but he didn’t care, he was already lost to this idea, a belief he was too ready to attach to this person he barely knew. High on the revelation, he would believe what he wanted: he’d found someone who understood, someone who would stay with him, not leave him struggling on his own. And he would follow him anywhere.

chapter four

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #tw substances #tw abuse #tw vomit #young hotch #a mixed blessing #criminal minds fanfiction

15 notes · View notes

fangirlauthor · 4 years

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Kyalin Week Day 1

Kyalin Week 2020! Nov. 9 Prompt: College Professors

“Welcome, everyone, welcome! I hope you all have a great year; please enter through the front doors and keep your pants on when walking through the halls.” To returning students, the latter comment was far less strange than it sounded to new students. Professor Kya had a habit of inserting comments that made sense only to a few people into a conversation for the fun of it, especially on the first day of school.

The students who had had her as a teacher, though they might never admit it, were in the habit of causing some strange problems that weren’t technically allowed in order to give her strange things to comment on.

Though she never let on, Professor Kya was well aware that her students were in the habit of causing mischief. In fact, she herself made a point to include strange ideas during her lectures to see if someone would take action.

It wasn’t a stretch to say that she was one of the coolest teachers in the building – again, with her secret mischief, helpful hints, and open-notes tests, her class was easily, well, easy.

----

“Hello! Welcome to your first marine biology health class this semester. Make sure to pay attention, we don’t want any accidents like the cap on the sink that keeps all the water in being removed.” She widened her eyes comically and jerked her head in the direction of the sink suggestively. In the back of the room, a student who had had her as a teacher before was furiously taking notes and nodding attentively while shoving spaghetti noodles into his mouth.

Today was going to be interesting.

----

Four weeks into the class, and the students had gotten accustomed to Professor Kya’s style of teaching. Involving options for cooperation and options to sleep in the back of the room (she wouldn’t wake them up if they were sleeping, unless they had asked her to beforehand, but she also didn’t review material much in-class. If you were sleeping, it was your problem.) the general lecture atmosphere was relaxed, a sort of “everyone makes their own choices but if you talk while I’m talking, you’re dead” atmosphere.

Unfortunately, something was different today. On the board when the students walked in was an announcement that there would be a sub today, with a warning about behavior and respect.

The students, being tired college students in great need of a nap, registered the information as best they could and sat in their seats to wait for the sub to show up. They mostly ignored the reminder about respect and behavior, being students about to have a substitute teacher (which was strange on its own, that they had a sub).

At the start of class time on the dot, a woman wearing a scowl harsher than the lighting walked in. Clothed in gray, functional clothing and a scar that only added to the scowl, was Lin Beifong.

All of the students with a will to live sat straight up in their chairs when they saw her, so terrifying was her scowl. The other students, mostly the ones that were still sleeping or were not in the mood to do anything, didn’t move much. They had passed their first few classes, they were sure they could handle an individual, if scary-looking, substitute teacher.

They were wrong. They were very, very wrong.

“Sit up and listen,” barked Lin. “You have five minutes for your warm-up. If you’re not done by then, five push-ups. After the warm-up, you have 30 minutes to listen to the lecture digitally. If you’re not done by then, 30 push-ups. Then five minutes for the exit ticket, and you’re out of here.”

The students stared at her blankly. “What, you want me to introduce myself? Fine. I’m Lin. You will call me Lin. Kya is my wife and if you’re ever mean to her, we’re going to have to have words. Got it? Good. You now have three minutes for the warm-up. Five push-ups if you don’t finish in time.”

The large number of push-ups was detrimental to the children who were barely awake despite it being three in the afternoon, but most people managed to get their work done on time, even with Lin scowling at them from the front of the room.

Two minutes before the end of class, when people were finishing off their 30 push-ups and preparing to do five more because they wouldn’t have time to finish the “exit ticket” which was not actually required by anyone but Lin, Professor Kya walked in.

Lin’s face softened slightly when she saw Kya, and she begrudgingly (though it obviously made her happy) allowed Kya to give her a hug and kiss on the cheek.

Kya glanced around the room, noticed that half her students were doing push-ups to the death on the floor, sighed, and nudged Lin with her shoulder. “You do know this isn’t gym class, right Lin?” she whispered, makings sure that it was loud enough for the class to hear.

“They didn’t finish their work on time, they have to suffer the consequences.”

Kya rolled her eyes, smiling right after, and told the class, “Alright, everybody, you can stop doing push-ups now. I’ll post the lesson online so those of you who didn’t finish can get done – if you want to, of course. Have a nice day!”

The students walked out of the classroom silently, out of fear of the still-glaring Lin, but the minute they were out the halls were filled with the sounds of conspiratorial conversations.

Rolling her eyes again, Kya said, “There really was no need to make them all do push-ups. Besides, how could they do their work if they’re still being punished from the last time? And don’t tell me they should have been able to do however many push-ups you told them to do, they’ve spent the last four nights studying for other classes, I’m sure; they don’t have time for push-ups.”

“Well, I’m not apologizing. A little exercise is good for the mind.”

Kya raised an eyebrow. “A little? I don’t even know how many push-ups you told them to do, but I know it was more than what’s considered ‘a little.’”

Lin sighed, scowled, then smiled in quick succession. “See you at home soon?”

Kya laughed. “I’ve got a few more classes to teach, but after that, I will most definitely be at home to steal your food.”

“See you soon, Kya.”

“See you soon, Love.”

They pressed their foreheads together for a moment before Lin headed out to work and Kya prepared for their next class.

#kya #lin #kyalin #lin x kya #kya x lin #kyalin week 2020 #kyalin week

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octo-cutie · 3 years

Text

Red Strings and Things

Prompt: You and your soulmate are connected by a red string on your pinkies which appears once you meet each other.

Summary: Tooru is concerned about the increasing number of his peers that have found their other half. After a brief meltdown, Tooru realizes that his string has become visible. Now the only question is who? And once he finds her, is it really his other half?

Pairing: POV Oikawa Tooru x f!Reader Genre: Fluff, little bit of angst, a little toddler violence Warnings: Deliberate misspellings in the beginning because Oikawa and Iwaizumi where 6. Neither of them knew proper grammar and Iwaizumi had just lost his front tooth. Violence from Iwaizumi (Pushing, hitting, throwing things at Oikawa)

Side Note: I’ll be referring to Oikawa as Tooru because I’ll be referencing his mom and his sister a lot.

This is my contribution to the Soulmate AU Collab for Celestial Archives! I love love love this AU with all my heart and I secretly believe in the red string theory anyways....

It was his sister who had explained to him why the vermillion string was tied snugly around his left pinky finger. He hadn’t been older than 6 when she pulled him into her lap as she played with his hair one Sunday afternoon in the summer. There was a calming breeze in the air and the temperature that day was just right for blue popsicles in the sun.

“Everyone has one of these strings tied around their pinky finger that connects them to their soulmate.” She had said picking up his hand and holding it up against her own. Tooru looked at their hands (his were signifigantly stickier than hers) as his older sister held them together and saw the cotton fibers of his vermillion string slightly blowing and bending in the wind.

“Wahs a solmat?” He asked as popsicle dribbled down his chin. His sister was quick to wipe it up with a napkin as she explained it in a way only a 6 year old could understand.

“A soulmate Tooru, is the person who shares the other half of their popsicle with you. Except you’ll share a lot more than just a popsicle you silly goose.” She said giving him a sisterly squeeze.

“But we shared a pohsisle” He said with a pout. “Are you my solmat?”

“No Tooru I’m your sister. We shared a popsicle because there was only one left.” She said as she picked him up. Tooru curved his mouth into a large smile.

“Is it Iwa-chan?!”

“I don’t think so goose. If he was than you wouldn’t see your string anymore.”

“Oh.”

That night while everyone else was asleep, Tooru climbed out of his bed and made his way towards his school bookbag and dug out his crayons and paper. In his short span of 6 years he knew plenty of people and according to his sister this string wouldn’t disappear until he met his soulmate. So it wouldn’t hurt to make a list of people he knew.

It wasn’t his parents, or his sister, and it wasn’t Iwa-chan. It couldn’t be anyone in his class either or his teachers. But it was very difficult to count all the people he knew with only ten fingers. At his little desk he sat working in his notebook until his parents found him asleep with the glitter glue in his hair, and a marker surrounded by a puddle of drool.

Later that week Tooru and his best friend Iwaizumi Hajime were in the living room watching a kids television show. It was far too wet to go out and explore like they had originally wanted to but this show about trucks was incredibly captivating. As soon as the commercial break aired, two pairs of little feet flew down the hall towards the bathroom to relieve themselves after inhaling large glasses of lemonade.

“Hurry up dumb face! The thows gunna thart thoon!” Iwaizumi said through his lisp caused by his recently lost front tooth. Tooru blew a raspberry back at him as he washed his hands in the sink. Reaching over to turn the faucet off, Tooru noticed the vermillion string that was darker due to the water that had run through its fibers.

He carefully jumped off the stepstool and opened the door to a grumbling Iwaizumi who promptly dragged Tooru by the arm back to the pillow fort they had spanning the contents of the living room.

“Iwa-chan! Wait I have a question!” Tooru exclaimed as they climbed through the tunnel they had set up to make it seem more like the train station they watched on television.

“What ith it thoopid-head?”

“Don’t call me stupid! I have a question about your solmat string!” Tooru said with tears in his eyes. Iwaizumi was always his hot headed best friend but words hurt ok?

“What about it?” Iwaizumi asked situating himself on his stomach and munching on some of the crackers they had taken from the kitchen. Tooru began to fiddle with the knot at the base of his finger as he asked is question.

“Is it still there?”

“Of couthe it ith. Itths thill bright pink!” Iwaizumi said holding his pudgy toddler fist in the air as he stuffed his face with more crackers. Tooru couldn’t see it but then again only the individual or their soulmate could see it.

The conversation ended there as the colorful ads where now replaced with the post-commercial jingle which brought their eyes back to the screen. It was distracting from the difficult world of soulmates which continued to plague his mind.

It continued to bother him into the next couple months now that he was in first grade. He was part of the big kid group at school because he could tie his shoelaces and he knew how to read short chapter books. His handwriting, according to his teachers, was so similar to a girls that they had accidentally begun to call him Oikawa-chan like they had with his sister.

Iwaizumi had laughed at his predicament one to many times before Tooru pushed him out of his seat with a loud huff. The only thing it did was earn Tooru a spot in the corner during recess while Iwaizumi got to go play outside.

Instead of crying like he usually would, Tooru used this chance to think about the girls in his class. He knew most of them (if not by name then by some other part. Like cookie girl who gave everyone cookies when she had them) and he couldn’t recall seeing their strings. He’d gotten in trouble the other day when he swore on his Alien pajama set that he’d seen Izuna’s string and had tackled her to the ground only to realize that she had colored her nails red with a sharpie.

He’d spent a lot of time in the corner that day.

It was frustrating to Tooru that he couldn’t find his soulmate when it seemed like everyone else had. Though in reality his teacher had already explained to him multiple times that most soulmates don’t find each other right away.

“It just takes time. I still haven’t found mine and I’m 24.” She said with a bright smile. Tooru’s eyes bugged out of his head and he started to wail about how he’d never find them.

First grade was interesting in that aspect....

As the years progressed, Tooru slowly became less and less concerned with his soulmate and his string due to the increasing popularity that was coming his way. Once he’d entered middle school, he and the rest of his male counterparts had started to notice their female classmates as more than just friends. He’d even started up a relationship towards the end of his 3nd year in Junior High with a lovely girl named Sora who shared his love of volleyball.

His first love had been short and sweet. They had bonded together over volleyball, and spent their lunch times and weekends playing together or watching volleyball tournaments much to Iwaizumi’s chagrin. It wasn’t until the last week of school that Sora had come to him with large tears welled up in her eyes.

The tell tale sign of her now visible burgundy string only told Tooru what he’d known from the start. They weren’t soulmates.

Tooru had congratulated her with a large fake smile and given her his best as he headed off to practice. But he couldn’t help but feel the annoyance itching at his skin. It wasn’t fair! How had nearly two-thirds of his classmates already found their other half?!

Iwaizumi noticed the attitude that Tooru was throwing around the court that day. His warm up serves were more aggressive, he’d snapped at both the coaches and had been forced to sit out for an entire practice game due to his attitude. As he watched one of the first years, Kageyama, replace him as the setter for the last game his mood only worsened.

“If you hadn’t lost your shitty temper with the coaches you wouldn’t have had to sit out.” Iwaizumi grumbled as the two of them picked up the stray balls that had wandered away during practice in the now mostly empty gym. Tooru merely grunted and bent over to grab a ball at his feet.

Unfortunately another hand reached downwards too...

“Oikawa do you maybe think you could help me with my sets sometime?” An eager Kageyama asked as he wrung his fingers together. Tooru looked up from the ground with a darkened look in his eyes before lunging at the poor unsuspecting kid as a growl ripped through his throat.

“YOU GET OUT OF MY FACE! I WILL NOT BE REPLACED BY A-”

A terrified Kageyama was rescued from the hands of an angry Tooru by means of Iwaizumi who barreled the two of them into the wall. Kageyama took this chance to run off before he was attacked once more.

“SHITTYKAWA GET A GRIP ON YOURSELF!” Iwaizumi hollered into his friends face as he gripped Tooru’s shirt. Angry tears welled up in Tooru’s eyes as he pushed Iwaizumi away from him and buried his head in his arms as choked sobs left his body.

“I’m one of the only people who hasn’t found their soulmate.” Tooru choked out much to the chagrin of Iwaizumi who scoffed.

“Really?! This is what’s made you so shitty today?! Dammit I thought you had a real issue.” Iwaizumi growled as he threw more volleyballs into the carrier. Tooru wiped his eyes and looked at his bug loving friend.

“It is though Iwa-chan! It’s a real issue! Even you’ve met yours!” Tooru snapped pointing at Iwaizumi’s bubblegum pink strand that had appeared a little less than a month ago.

As much as Iwaizumi wanted to berate him for having unnecessary tears over something that everyone experienced in life, he sighed and found himself comforting his idiot friend instead.

“It takes time shit-head. You’ll find them eventually.” was all he mustered before pulling the setter up from his crouched position and pulling him towards the gym storage room.

Iwaizumi pulled and pushed Tooru through the school and back towards their homes while the boy moped towards the sky. Iwaizumi pushed him up the steps and knocked on the door. A few moments later, Tooru’s mother opened the door.

“Oh hello- Tooru what’s the matter with you?” She asked pulling her son and Iwaizumi into the house. With a quick apology for intruding, both boys began to remove their shoes and Iwaizumi explained what had happened.

“Tooru you know well and true that finding your soulmate is more than a matter of waiting for them to show up. It also takes the maturity of the heart and the maturity of the mind. This is a perfect example of why you haven’t seen your string.” His mother scolded. Iwaizumi nodded along with every word that left his “auntie’s” mouth.

Tooru merely trudged upstairs and into his room with a huff and a harsh closing of his door.

His room was still dark from turning the light off before he left for school and his bed unmade from running out of time. Letting his backpack fall off his shoulder her slumped onto his bed and stared absentmindedly at his pinky finger.

He could see the vermillion strands bounce slightly with the pulse of his heartbeat underneath his skin.

His mother was right though, he thought as he drifted off to sleep. Someone with his emotional maturity skills was bound to wait a long time for their string to appear.

Tooru’s mindset completely changed once they entered high school a few months later. His looks and his charming personality were a massive take with most of his peers and he quickly developed a fanbase that followed him everywhere. They packed the stands at the volleyball games and inflated his ego tenfold.

“With all these lovely fans of mine why bother with a soulmate?” Tooru announced at a study session with Iwaizumi and two other boys they’d met on the volleyball team, Hanamaki Takahiro and Matsukawa Issei.

“Fuck you and your fanbase.” Iwaizumi grunted as he kicked Tooru gently in the ribs while texting his girlfriend.

“Leave me alone Iwa-chan!” Tooru said with his dramatic ass laying on the ground. Matsukawa threw a piece of popcorn at his head.

“No he’s right. Your fanbase is obnoxious.”

“Not you too Mattsun!”

But Matsukawa was right in the sense that the obnoxiousness of

Tooru periodically began to date members of his fanbase here and there not really caring when they broke up with him due to him neglecting them for volleyball.

It wasn’t until his third year when his current girlfriend shrieked and smacked him in the arm that he realized his life had changed.

“You didn’t fucking tell me you found your soulmate already you jerk!” She snapped before running off in tears. Tooru blinked in complete confusion before looking down at his string. It still sat there visible to him but...

Wait-

“IWA-CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!!” Tooru shrieked as he sprinted across campus to find his best friend. The thudding of his heart beneath his ribcage only heightened with the belief that his string truly had been revealed and he was closer to finding his soulmate.

Unfortunately for Iwaizumi who had been having a rather romantic moment with his girlfriend, found himself groaning out of annoyance at Tooru’s loud and heavily breathy interruption.

“What the fuck do you want Shittykawa?! I’m kind of in the middle of something!” He called out not facing the trembling, hyperventilating figure of his friend. With a kiss to his girlfriend’s cheek he sent her off with a gentle love-tap on her forehead and a promise to see her later before dragging a babbling Tooru off.

“Ow ow! Let me go Iwa-chan! It’s important!!”

“It better fucking be you fucking cockblock.”

“Can you see my string?” Tooru blurted as he shoved his pinky finger into his friends face. Iwaizumi blinked before looking at his friends newly visible string.

“I- I can see it. This is what was so fucking important?!” Iwaizumi growled as he gripped Tooru’s wrist and crossed his arms. Tooru gaze burned with a fire that Iwaizumi only ever saw on the court when they were a singular point away from the winning one.

“It means I found them! I found them!” Tooru cried out in happiness cradling his hand and walking off with a lovelorn look on his face.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and texted his girlfriend to meet up with him again before lunch was over.

Tooru couldn’t concentrate the entire rest of the day. He stared absentmindedly at the string on his finger and spent the rest of his class doodling what he thought his soulmate looked like or what they should do for their first date.

His instagram now showed off to his friends and fans that he was infact on his way to finding his love and the texts bewteen his mother and sister about it only fueled his excitement. For his fanbase however, the sight of the string caused many girls and even some boys to hate the color of their own strings that now were clearly not a match to the vibrant vermillion color.

But the question everyone wanted to know was who had triggered the appearance of his string? And why had it taken them so long to find him?

Unfortunately for Tooru it seemed that although the universe had finally thrown him a bone, his search for his other half continued to plague his days in high school. His peers who had their strings exposed matched each other but not to his. For three years he focused solely on Volleyball and finding the other half of the red vermillion string that now dangled freely from his pinky finger.

“I don’t even know when it showed up! Kimi-chan just smacked me across the arm and I ran off to find Iwa!” Tooru exclaimed when yet another person asked him if he knew who it was.

No he didn’t. Yes he’d asked around. No he didn’t have any positive leads. The same three answers to the now most commonly asked questions that he heard aside from questions about volleyball.

The search only grew colder and colder as the end of the year grew closer and closer. With the loss to Karasuno at the Inter-high semi-finals eating at the strings of his heart, he threw himself into his studies and watched the match between Karasuno and Shiratorizawa with anger and resentment towards his former teammate and his rival Ushijima.

The loss of Shiratorizawa to Karasuno nearly made him smile after years of ridicule by the universe. To watch the miniscule look of despair cross through Ushijima’s usually stoic face alleviated some of the pain that he felt of not being on the court.

As he and Iwaizumi cleared out of the stadium he felt a sharp pain in his pinky finger, almost as if the string around his finger was tightening. Using his height to his advantage he whipped his head around to see a head of h/c hair walking away from him pulling at her right pinky finger....

That bore a familiar vermillion string.

“Excuse me! Please I need to get through!” He called out shoving people out of the way trying to reach the angel who had seemingly evaded him for years and years and years.

‘She’s here. She’s here. Just one more step. Faster! Get to her! Please!’ His brain screamed at him as he reached out for the elbow hidden beneath the Orange and Black of Karasuno Highschool. The contact of his hand with her elbow cause both of them to jolt with an extreme burst of energy causing her to turn around with her large e/c eyes looking at him with extreme awe. Swallowing slowly the girl looked at Tooru with stars in her eyes.

“Are you...”

“I think I am...”

Tooru moved his hand from her elbow to connect their hands finally joining the dangling parts of their strings together for the first time in a beautiful heart shaped knot. The vermillion color that had once nauseated him now amazed him as he tentatively wrapped his arms around the frame of his better half for the first time. Tears welled up in both sets of their eyes as they held each other tightly.

“I thought everyone was humoring me about my string.” She whispered as she inhaled through teary eyes. Tooru stroked his hand through her hair inhaling the slightly peachy scent mixed with a hint of cream.

“But you’re here now... I’ve found you after all these years. My name is Oikawa Tooru. I’m a third year at Aoba Johsai.”

“I’m L/N Y/N. I’m a second year at Karasuno High School.”

They finally separated and looked at each other with bright beaming smiles. Joining their hands together, Tooru led the girl out of the stadium with the premise of their first date of many to make up for the years they’d spent separated.

To Tooru, Y/N was truly his other half. Her personality complimented his in every aspect. He’d learned that her hobbies included watching volleyball, charcoal art, and babysitting her new baby brother. She’s allergic to pine nuts, and wanted to visit the Amazon Rainforest to sketch exotic animals before going to University for Primary School Education. She had tried out for the volleyball team but had to quit during her first year because her brother had been born.

He told her of his dreams to play volleyball on the professional level and about his nephew Takeru. He shared his fears and insecurities about the Karasuno volleyball team specifically Kageyama. He couldn’t stop himself from spilling information that even his closest friends didn’t know. It was like she already knew everything about him and like he knew everything about her.

As Tooru walked her to the bus station, Y/N asked for a photo together.

“I don’t want to wake up and find out it was a dream.” She confessed shyly as they exchanged numbers and waited for the bus. Tooru’s already fluttering heart increased as he held her warm hands in his.

“It’s not a dream. We’ve finally found each other and I will always be at the other end of this string. We may be separated now but we have our whole lives ahead of us. One day I’ll be playing professionally and I’ll have you by my side every step of the way.” He explained, “Of course if you’ll have me.”

“I will Tooru.” and with those words, she placed a lingering kiss on the swell of his cheekbone. It was natural for her and his response was a flavorful kiss on the forehead.

“A kiss on the lips is what we’ll get when we meet again.” Tooru murmured into her hairline. The sounds of the bus approaching pulled them apart and they separated once again, the knot coming undone.

The string had never felt so heavy on his finger now that they had left each other, Tooru thought as he walked home with a content smile on his face and his hands in his pocket.

A few years passed and the correspondence between the two was still flourishing as though they had only just met. Quick texts turned into hour long conversations and phone calls turned into falling asleep on facetime. When he was offered a position on the San Juan Men’s Volleyball team in Argentina he immediately went to visit a jewelry shop.

Tooru called Y/N and arranged for the two of them to meet at a fancy restaurant. The weight of the end of their strings lifted as they knotted together once more and Tooru announced the news that he was heading to San Juan.

“Before I go however, there is one thing I need to do. I want to marry you Y/N. We’ve only just found each other after years of being separated and it’s like I’ve finally been given a drink of the coldest water to soothe my aching body. You’re my other half. The better part of me. And I can’t let you go again.” Tooru confessed on one knee with the black padded ring box opened to show a perfectly carved ring with a tiny ruby heart.

A squeal and a thump confirmed his answer as those around in the restaurant watched the newly engaged couple hold each other tightly.

The wedding was set for later that winter before Tooru had to leave for Argentina. As they joined hands for the first time as a newly wedded couple, Tooru watched as the vermillion string turned bright gold.

As he danced with his new wife and held her close he whispered a tentative ‘I love you’ and forgave the universe for all the hardships he’d gone through.

After all, there’s always more to life than red strings and things...

________________________________________________________________

So I know that my contribution was added much later but I had experienced some personal issues and this laid dormant in my drafts for a while. Thank you to @elixhirs for the beautiful banner and to @toorusushijima for hosting the collab by @celestialarchiveshq

#cute octopus writing #soulmates #collab piece #tooru oikawa #iwaizumi hajime #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #fluff #light angst #waiting for love #red string theory #haikyuu!!#tooru oikawa x f!reader #oikawa x y/n #love

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sanzaroo · 3 years

Text

Half Moon and the Downward Facing Dog

Chapter 1/3 : Dignity

Read here on AO3

Tuesday had Sirius travelling from Stretford to an address that Lily provided him with the night before. It led to a fitness studio in central Manchester, where they planned to meet before yoga. Lily booked the class for herself and Sirius a week prior, omitting James- probably for his own safety. Sirius stuffed his restless hands into pockets and leaned against the motorbike. Yoga was a completely new concept for him, and he was feeling a little fidgety about it. Balancing on one leg required almost as much concentration as calculus and trying to reach his toes would probably break Sirius’ back. But he promised he wouldn’t chicken out. Besides, Lily was right. As an aspiring marathon runner, he would benefit from some stretching.

It wasn’t long until Lily’s silver fuck-knows-what-make car was parked, and the redhead herself graced him with her presence. Sirius took his helmet off the handlebars and met her in a hug.

‘’Hey handsome.’’ She greeted, ‘’have you been waiting long?’’

‘’Hey. No, not at all. How are you?’’

‘‘I’m very excited! This instructor is phenomenal, and I have been dying to go to one of his classes since his visit at QPitch.’’

‘’So I’ve heard,’’ Sirius teased, flashing her a cheeky grin.

That, indeed, was true. After the guest class, Lily arrived home with a prepared rant that lasted the entire dinner. Sirius and James learned all about the passion he had for yoga, how much of that passion showed in class, the love he displayed towards teaching, the careful motivation he applied towards his students- and much, much more. Lily’s enthusiasm was so inspiring, Sirius didn’t even know when some of it crept into him. Before he realised what exactly Lily was asking, he was agreeing to go to one of his classes with her whenever the opportunity arrived. And well, it arrived. Sooner than expected.

The studio was active with students stretching and warming up on their mats. Lily took a spot near the front and gestured for Sirius to follow. He would much rather to sit at the back, hidden away from any possible attention or embarrassment he might bring himself, but staying close to Lily seemed like a more comforting idea.

‘’Lily, should we be warming up?’’ Sirius asked. Everyone in the studio looked like they knew exactly what to do. Even the guy doing some kind of supported head stand looked like he fully intended to get himself in that position. It looked terrifying.

‘’Don’t worry, Remus goes through full body warm up before anything else.’’

‘’Right, okay. What’s this lady doing? Is that good for your back?!?’’

‘’Upward plank pose. Her back is fine, Sirius.’’ Lily laughed as Sirius stared at the lady in horror, her chest arching towards the ceiling. It didn’t look the least bit comfortable.

‘’As if a normal plank wasn’t cruel enough,’’ he muttered.

The door opened and Sirius turned to the front to focus on calming his nerves before he was asked to bend over backwards. Possibly literally.

‘’Hello! How’s everyone today?’’

The newcomer’s back was turned to the class as he unpacked his duffle bag. A few people replied with a lively hello, but Sirius remained quiet. The man glanced around the room as he made his way to the front, smiling when his gaze fell on various people, including Lily. Sirius’ breath hitched when the man’s hazel eyes briefly scanned his face, and he turned to look at the floor in front of him instead. The man was gorgeous, there was no denying that. But Sirius wasn’t here to admire his golden curls or toned legs or the way he was now removing his hoodie to reveal a loose tank top. No, Sirius definitely didn’t have his eyes glued to his arms now.

‘‘My name is Remus, and I’ll be guiding you through today’s class,’’ Remus. What a peculiar name. Not that Sirius got to talk, of course. ‘’I see a few new faces today, welcome, and welcome back to the rest of you who I had the pleasure of meeting before.’’ He was smiling kindly as he spoke, and Sirius felt his worries slowly fade as he listened.

Remus paused to take in the faces in the studio before continuing. ‘‘If this is your first class with me, or even better- first yoga class ever- I just want to assure you that there is no need to be scared. This is a place of acceptance and kindness, and questions are encouraged if you are unsure of anything. We will do simple poses, but I will also show more advanced variations if you wish to try them.’’

Well, this was okay, right? He’ll just stick to the simple stuff.

‘‘I would like to remind everyone to never push yourself into a position that causes sharp pain or discomfort. A little of dull pain is okay but stop immediately if you feel any sharp pain at all.’’

‘’Sorry, what’s the difference?’’ Someone from the back asked, and Sirius thanked them mentally. He had no idea what the difference was, either.

‘’Great question, thank you for asking! A sharp pain feels like a paper cut. It’s this uncomfortable ache that is usually felt quickly and immediately. A dull pain isn’t as uncomfortable. It’s a little like pressing into a muscle,’’ Remus demonstrated by pressing his palm into the top of his thigh, ‘‘not exactly how it feels but it will give you a sense of what to look out for. In either circumstance, remember to only go as far as you can. We are not here to acquire injuries.’’

Sirius could see now why Lily spoke so highly of Remus. The man clearly knew what he was talking about, and the way he addressed the students was captivating and assuring. No doubt, anyone would feel comfortable in his class.

‘‘Does that make sense?’’ The lady who asked the question nodded, just as mesmerized as Sirius was. ‘‘Great! So, before we start. I will be walking around the class to make sure everyone is doing okay. In case I need to correct anyone’s poses, can I get a show of hands of who would not like to be touched?’’

A few hands went up. Remus immediately took note of everyone with their hands up and consulted them individually.

‘‘All good so far, Sirius?’’ He heard Lily’s voice from his side and turned to face her.

‘‘Yeah,’’ he whispered back, ‘‘but why didn’t you tell me he’s this hot?’’

Lily chucked and turned her attention back to Remus, who was making his way to the front of the studio again.

‘’We’ll first focus on breath control, or Pranayama, which will be incorporated into everything else we do today. No matter what’s happening, it is never good to forget to breathe.’’ The class chuckled. Remus sat cross legged on the floor, bringing one hand to his chest and the other to his stomach. ‘‘Following my position, inhale through the nose for four counts, and exhale through the mouth for four counts.’’

Sirius followed by placing his hands on the relevant body parts and straightened his back. Sitting hunched over definitely wasn’t very attractive, especially in a yoga class.

Remus began to count through his breath, with eyes closed and complete calmness written all over his face. The studio was silent, save for the sounds of breathing, and Sirius suddenly wondered when was the last time he ate. He would probably die of embarrassment if his stomach growled.

‘’Great job everyone, lets move on to one more breath control exercise before we start warming up. Anuloma Viloma, or, alternative nostril breathing, purifies the energy channels through the right and left nostrils. It stimulates the movement of prana, or breath.’’ Remus’ tone was strong and focused as he explained basics of breathing. Listening to him was fascinating, even when he spoke about breathing in yoga terms. ‘‘To achieve the Vishnu Mudra hand position, curl your index and middle fingers down, while keeping your ring finger and pinkie pointing upwards.’’

This was easier said than done. Sirius’ ring finger kept involuntarily bending and curling while his thumb reached to hold the other two fingers down. He glanced towards Remus to compare the hand positions, but they looked nothing alike. Remus noticed his struggle and crept forward. The man didn’t even need to stand up - sitting almost opposite to Sirius - and in a second, he was holding down Sirius’ fingers.

‘’There. Use your other fingers to help yourself if you need to, but once we start the exercise it will be a lot easier. All good?’’ Sirius snapped back into reality as Remus’ fingers left a cold spot on his now bare hands. Oh god, was he staring at Remus fixing his fingers? That even sounded wrong.

‘’Y- Yeah, I think I got it. Thanks.’’ He smiled in an attempt to mask his flush, forcing his mind to focus on his own fingers. Remus retreated to his spot and continued the exercise.

‘’The exercise is simple from here on. Bring your hand to your face, the two curled fingers under your nose. Close one of the nostrils with your thumb, and inhale through the other. Hold your breath for four counts by squeezing both your nostrils shut and then exhale though the other nostril, holding the other closed with your ring finger and pinkie.’’ Remus must have noticed the confused faces because he proceeded to demonstrate the technique step by step, explaining again as he did so.

The studio broke out in raspy breathing as everyone began the exercise. Sirius did his best to successfully purify his energy channels and stimulate prana, feeling like he was running out of air for the first minute or so. The feeling eased with time and eventually the exercise became more comforting than he expected.

‘‘Alright, lets get warm. Everyone, please, sit back and stretch your legs out in front of you. Flex your feet back as far as you can, and then point your toes towards the floor. And again, well done. One more time!’’

Remus demonstrated each exercise, body part by body part. Lily was right, he covered everything. By the time warmup was over, Sirius’ heart has sped up and he felt well prepared for whatever antics he would be doing. They began with sun salutation A, or Surya Namaskar. Remus explained that they will do a beginner’s friendly variation, with optional additions for anyone who would like to do a little extra and proceeded to show the first pose.

The mountain pose, Tadasana, for four breaths, followed by a stretch into an upward salute, or Urdhva Hastasana, also for four breaths. Each pose was to be held for this long, or longer if anyone needed a few extra seconds. The next pose had a variation for those a little more advanced. Sirius glanced at Lily and saw her torso pressed flat against her legs, looking like she had folded herself in half. The easier version of that was basically touching your toes, and Sirius immediately worried about his back. With the tips of his fingers about five inches from the floor, and breath as ragged as if he just ran a marathon, he glanced up towards the mirror and caught Remus’ eye. He could have sworn the man smirked before immediately correcting his expression. Sirius, with his ass up in the air, was in no position to protect his dignity. He let it go.

‘‘Remember what I said about breathing,’’ Remus’ whisper came from somewhere beside him. ‘’In through the nose, out through the mouth. You’ll get dizzy breathing like you do now.’’

Remus stayed at his side, breathing with him, until he was satisfied with Sirius’ rhythm.

‘‘Good. Now, grab your calves with your hands and slowly try to pull your torso towards your legs. Remember to watch out for any pain.’’

God, he was stiff. But Remus’ advice did help, as his head inched closer towards his knees. It was nowhere near where Lily was, but any progress is still progress, right? Not to mention Lily has been doing yoga for years. He congratulated himself mentally, a slight bit of dignity coming back to him, until he remembered he is still bent in a crooked half - right in front of the attractive instructor. Dignity, it was nice knowing ya.

‘‘Keep it up, you’re doing great.’’ And Sirius swore he heard a smile in Remus’ voice. Is there such a thing as negative dignity? He sure felt it.

Remus walked back to his spot and got into the same position that Sirius was in, but better.

‘‘We will go into a low lunge pose next,’’ Great, Sirius thought. Now we have lunges, ‘‘so take a large step back with your right foot, careful not to kick anyone behind you, and raise your head and chest enough to take deeps breaths.’’

Remus scanned the class without correcting anyone.

‘‘Great. If you want to test your balance, you can stretch your arms above your head and straighten your back.’’ Remus looked at Sirius questioningly, and Sirius decided against his better judgement to try his luck. Or balance, for that matter. Straightening his back a little further, he lifted himself up until the tips of his fingers were barely touching the floor. Breathing. He had to breathe, that’s what Remus said, otherwise he’ll get dizzy and probably fall. Once his breath was under control, he lifted himself up on wobbly feet, and slowly reached up into the stretch that Remus was demonstrating.

His head was at enough of an angle to obstruct a direct view of Remus, but Sirius could still see him watching from the corner of his eye. Remus was probably checking if Sirius is falling in case he hit his head and needed assistance or something, but Sirius was weirdly glad. He held the position steadily despite his legs pretending to be jelly, which bloomed a sparkle of pride in his chest.

‘’You’re all doing brilliant!’’ Remus smiled. ‘‘Now we’ll work backwords until we get to mountain pose again. Bring your hands back to the floor, step out with your left foot to join your right and lift your hips up. This is the downward facing dog, and it is often seen as the resting position in sun salutation. Feel free to stay in downward facing dog for a few extra breaths, we are halfway through the sequence now.’’

Sirius thought Remus had an interesting sense of humour. Ass in the air and breathe deeply. Maybe in different circumstances that would be more comfortable.

The second half of sun salutation A went smoothly. Remus instructed them to work backwords from what they just did as he continued alongside them. Back at the mountain pose, Sirius felt like nothing could surprise him.

And for a while, nothing did. They did a few basic poses such as the tree pose, each of the warrior poses and their modifications, and a wide legged forward bend. Sirius was accustomed to being in an ass up position by now. Lily was flying smoothly through everything and doing all the variations and modifications that Remus suggested, and it was no longer discouraging. Sirius felt motivated watching her and Remus being a spectacle of yoga.

Remus kept glancing at him more often than at anyone else. Even Lily noticed it and nudged him discreetly after a particularly extended glance during one of the warrior poses. Sirius didn’t think too much of it, but it still caused a faint blush to creep at the back of his neck every time he caught Remus’ eye.

‘‘We are almost at the end of our class, but before we cool down, I would like you to challenge yourself a little with one more pose. The eagle pose, or Garudasana, is also a beginner pose but it is a little more ambitious, especially if you want to proceed into its modification.’’ Remus explained the pose while tangling his long limbs all around his body and proceeding into the modification while everyone observed. When it was their turn, Sirius was confident in his abilities and began to wrap his hands and legs around. Unfortunately, his confidence only lasted until he was fully tangled and shaking dangerously on his left foot. The pose didn’t allow for much movement and untangling oneself didn’t seem to be as simple as Sirius had thought, which became very apparent as he began to lose balance. Torso tilted to the left, Sirius was bracing himself for the impact of hard floor when he felt two hands on his shoulders, stabilising him. He didn’t recall closing his eyes, but it must have been somewhere between ‘oh shit’ and ‘I’m going to die’. Opening them, he looked into the mirror and saw a smiling Remus standing behind, holding him in place.

‘‘Thanks,’’ he chuckled, not taking his eyes off Remus in the mirror.

‘‘Do you want to have a go at the modification?’’ Remus asked, ‘‘I can help you.’’

Sirius nodded. Clearly, he missed being bent in half with his ass in the air. Remus grabbed him firmly by his upper arms as Sirius leaned forward to touch his elbows to his knees. He stayed down for four deep breaths, having breath control drilled into his mind at this stage, and looked up to find Remus watching him in the mirror. He was smiling down proudly, and Sirius wondered what the hell made him so happy before he realised that Remus was no longer supporting him. Chucking, he began to rise back to a standing position, successfully losing his balance and stumbling off to the side. He didn’t hit the ground, as expected, but managed to pull himself upright where he could once again pretend he had dignity.

‘’That was amazing. A bit of practise and I’ll consider you my competition,’’ Remus grinned, and the class laughed at the comment. Sirius glanced around at the small audience watching the exchange.

‘‘Thanks, but I would have landed on my face if you haven’t helped. I may need a class or two more to get to your level,’’ he quipped, which earned him a laugh out of Remus. He could have melted right there and then. Remus’ laugh was genuine, kind, and Sirius felt warm and fuzzy just listening to it. He wouldn’t mind hearing it again.

Remus helped a few other people with the modification, kind as he was, but never staying with one person for long. The cooling down part consisted of basic stretches, shaking out their arms and legs, and some more deep breathing. Sirius felt very oxygenated.

‘‘I’m afraid that concludes today’s class,’’ Remus addressed the studio. ‘‘It was a pleasure having you all here, thank you for taking part today and being as amazing as you were. Before we go, however, I would like to inform you that I am currently organising another slot in my timetable, which means I am taking on new students.’’

Remus’ eyes found Sirius’ and he didn’t look away.

‘’If you are interested in joining me, I can take your details today and have you booked straight away.’’ Remus moved his gaze to the rest of the class, but Sirius’ didn’t flinch. ‘‘Alternatively, you can book online before next week, for as long as there’s spaces. Thank you all for coming!’’

Sirius began to gather his things as he planned how to approach Remus about his classes. There was no doubt he will be joining. With a man like Remus leading the class, he would join anything. And he did feel great, like Lily said he would. Maybe he’ll go for a run once he’s back at home, the track up the hill that he often avoids. He felt ready for anything.

‘‘So, did you like it?’’ Lily pulled him out of his thoughts.

‘’I loved it, Lils! I am definitely signing up for the classes, will you go with me?’’

‘’I can’t, love. I have my programme back in QPitch for another 2 months. But you should definitely go!’’ Lily winked, and he waved her off, taking a drink out of his water.

There was a small crowd of students surrounding Remus, undoubtfully asking about joining his classes, so Sirius stood back and waited for the group to dismantle before approaching. He bid goodbye to Lily, who hurried back home to her son and husband, promising to see Sirius for dinner over the weekend and he made his way towards Remus once he was no longer surrounded.

‘‘Hi, I wanted to ask about your classes?’’ God, he sounded awkward.

‘‘Hey. Yeah, of course. What would you like to know?’’ Remus questioned.

Well shit. His smug plan has already failed him.

‘‘I, uhh... I wanted to join. If that’s okay?’’

Remus grinned, leaning back on the wall behind him, and Sirius had a weird sense that he was enjoying his suffering. ‘’That is indeed okay. Do you want me to take your details now?’’

‘‘Yeah, make a Yogi out of me, eh?’’

‘’Let’s get down to business then,’’ Remus handed him a list of names and contact details, followed by a health declaration form, and Sirius filled in all the necessary bits. Remus watched him, and with no one else present in the studio, he felt Remus’ full attention envelop him.

‘’Sirius Black.’’ Remus observed once Sirius filled all the forms and ticked all the boxes. ‘’I like it. It will be nice to not be the only one in class with an unusual name.’’

‘‘You name is pretty,’’ he blurted before he could stop himself. And really? Pretty? Yeah, it was but that thought should have stayed inside Sirius’ head.

Remus smiled, apparently unfazed. ‘‘I’m glad you think so. Usually I get weird looks, and questions about Romulus.’’

‘‘Romulus? Who’s Romulus?’’

‘’According to a Roman myth, he’s my twin brother.’’ Remus snickered, ‘’but I’m really glad you don’t know it.’’

‘‘I have a whole week to read about it, I’ll do my homework!’’ Sirius watched Remus cover his face in fake exasperation. He was smiling when he moved to pack up the documents and begin to get dressed to leave. Sirius’ internal groan at the loss of sight of Remus’ toned arms almost made it out, and he covered it up by clearing his throat. ‘’I will see you next week then, I guess. Thanks for doing this class, I’m really glad I came today.’’

Remus studied him for a moment and smiled a genuine and kind smile, ‘’I’m glad you came today too. Have a wonderful week, Sirius.’’

With a quick glance back, Sirius made his way out of the studio and towards his motorbike.

Home. Run. Dinner.

And seven more days until he gets to see Remus again.

#wolfstar #siriusxremus #sirius x remus #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #muggle!au #fanfiction #fanfic #yoga!au #yogi!remus #au #alternative universe #harry potter #hp #hp fic #Half Moon and the Downward Facing Dog

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daughterofluthien · 4 years

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Fictober - Day 10

Prompt number: 10. “all I ever wanted” Fandom: Teen Wolf Rating: T Characters/Relationships: Tamora Monroe, Scott McCall Word Count: 3728 Warnings/Tags: canon-typical violence A/N: Three years after the battle for Beacon Hills, Monroe calls a second peace summit. It doesn’t go the way she anticipated.

The moon hung low and large in the sky; it seemed to shine more brilliantly than it ever had in the past. Tamora glanced up at it briefly and hoped she wasn’t making a terrible mistake.

Mistake or not, the decision had already been made and she had a responsibility to follow through. She adjusted the strap on her rifle, relieving the uncomfortable pressure on her shoulder; she wasn’t sure that she'd ever get used to carrying a weapon for long periods of time.

Part of her — the part that had a bachelor’s degree in education and a masters in counseling, both pursued immediately after the preceding graduation — still wished that the weapons weren’t strictly necessary. But the past few years had taught her that the world was more complicated than it appeared in textbooks.

When your opponents had access to claws and fangs as a standard part of their anatomy, arming yourself was just leveling the playing field.

She glanced back at the five equally armed men and women behind her, all of whom she assumed were in a similar state of unease, and distracted herself by running through plans and contingencies. Tonight’s plan was… bold. To say the least.

But with the growing public outcry against her organization—not to mention raids by the likes of the ATF and FBI, which resulted in multiple arrests and the confiscation of several caches of weapons—she needed bold. She needed decisive. And above all, she needed something that would solidify the need for the cause in the hearts and minds of the others.

While she was glad that many of the men and women who followed her had not been personally affected by the devastation that was so often left in the wake of the supernatural, many of them were unaware how dangerous these individuals truly were. If she wanted them to remain committed, then they needed to understand personally.

Of course, it didn’t help that so few of the skirmishes between the two sides actually ended in casualties.

There were exceptions to this, of course—poorly planned out attacks on whole packs that could only ever end in a bloodbath. And as expected, the survivors of those assaults returned to her, or to the leaders of their own cells, with a renewed fervor for the cause. If they managed to escape alive, they understood the importance of the fight.

But for every event of that type, there were at least two others where the only reason a fight occurred was because one or two werewolves showed up to protect one of their own. And in those cases, they almost never pressed the advantage. Survivors of those incidents returned confused as to why they were even alive.

She remembered speaking to one such survivor as he cleaned and bandaged a shallow slash on his shoulder. She had placed a hand on his shoulder, and told him that he was lucky to be alive. That it was a testament to his bravery.

The man shook his head and stared pensively off into the middle distance. She wondered what he was seeing in his mind.

When he finally found his voice, he spoke slowly and thoughtfully. “No, I don’t think so… He yanked the gun out of my hand. Threw me to the ground. But the power behind it—” He shook his head again, and returned to winding the bandage around his shoulder. “He could’ve me. Easily. But he left me alive.”

“Because he was afraid. Because he knows how strong we are, and what we would do if one of us was killed.”

“Nah, he wasn’t afraid.” The bandage complete, he pulled his shirt back on, and winced as he moved his arm experimentally. “I’ve seen men afraid. Seen those things afraid, too—hell, that kid you sent me after tonight? She was terrified.” He glanced up at her, a dark look in his eye. “How old was she, anyways? The kid?”

Tamora fixed him with a look. “You know as well as I do that age doesn’t matter. As soon as their abilities manifest, they’re a danger—to us, and to the rest of the human population.”

“How old?”

She didn’t look away. “Seventeen, I believe.”

The man snorted, but didn’t answer. He shook off her hand and stood up.

She allowed her voice to harden. “So I take it the mission was a failure?”

“All he wanted was the kid, and he got her. Far as I know, they’re both still alive.” He picked up a bag with his gear and turned to leave. “Can’t say I’m crying about it, either.”

Tamora didn’t go after him then. She didn’t try to change his mind, because to do so would be to show weakness.

He wasn’t the first or the last to leave with a similar story.

And to make matters worse, at the same time that her organization was hemorrhaging followers, certain elements of the supernatural were rapidly gaining support worldwide.

The first time she encountered an individual with the McCall Pack tattoo, the others who were with her at the time laughed, joking that the creatures were finally painting targets on themselves, and that it would be rude not to oblige.

The laughing stopped when the symbol started showing up on graffiti and in signatures on message boards. These days, anyone who knew anything about the supernatural knew what the two concentric circles meant, even if they’d never heard the name Scott McCall.

It stood for something. Something that people believed in. Something that they wanted to follow—not out of fear—but out of loyalty and conviction.

In the face of that, Tamora was starting to wonder if she stood for anything at all.

Which, she reminded herself, was the reason they were here tonight. The individuals following behind her were some of the most influential members of her organization, all leaders of multiple cells around the world, she needed to make a point to them.

And if she needed to prove it to herself as well, then that was all right too. After all, she had learned in her classes that even counselors need therapy, from time to time. There was no shame in having doubts.

Shame came in acting on them.

She had poured everything that she had—everything she was—into this mission. This cause. And she refused to let it all be in vain.

The last three years meant something. They needed to mean something. And if she needed to take drastic action to remind herself of that, then so be it.

After all, she had started the stage of her life with drastic action. Before that night, she had never acted violently toward anyone. Had never even touched a weapon. But she had the courage to act when it mattered, and defend herself against the monsters that roamed freely in this world.

She remembered being terrified, that night. Her grip hadn’t been tight enough, and she nearly dropped the gun when it recoiled in her hands.

But she had fired the gun. She had taken action. And from that moment on, she wasn’t just a victim. The sort of person that sat passively by while people who didn’t really care patted her hand and said things like ‘you’re lucky to be alive’ or ‘at least you’re safe now.’ The traumatized final girl in a slasher movie.

She had agency now. The power to control her own narrative. And not only that, she was in a position to empower others as well.

Fear destroys a person, and no one deserved to be afraid. No one deserved to be forgotten.

Together, they could change the world. And when they were done, no one would be.

But she had been fighting for the cause for three years, and the people she led had forgotten what it meant to be truly afraid.

Tonight, she would show them. She would break down the lies and empty legends. She would remind them of the difference between what is human and what is not.

She just hoped enough of them survived to tell the story. ________________________

Despite the guns and other gear, their small procession moved quickly, and arrived at the set meeting place ahead of schedule. Tamora checked her watch when they arrived.

12:13 AM. They were early, which was fine by her. She ordered the two most nervous looking men to scout the perimeter. Not because she truly expected an ambush, but because she knew they needed something to distract them.

She glanced up at the moon a second time. It was the largest she had ever seen it—which might generally not mean much, as she had only really paid attention to the moon these past three years—but tonight she trusted her senses. She had planned, had done her research, and she knew that tonight wasn’t just any full moon.

Tonight was the second in a sequence of three consecutive supermoons.

Tonight, the moon would travel closer to the earth than it had in years. And at 12:44 AM precisely, it would be at its highest point in the sky.

Werewolves were, first and foremost, creatures constrained by their nature. Even an Alpha would be unable to remain in control under that sort of pull.

Even Scott McCall.

She shivered against fall wind, and pushed away the thought that the shiver might be due to nerves, rather than the cold. She wasn’t afraid of dying, and she knew this time she wouldn’t be forgotten. If she was killed, her sacrifice would mean something.

This was the right thing to do.

“There’s someone coming!” The man behind her meant it to be a whisper, but it was harsh and loud. And if it was loud to her, she could only imagine what any werewolves in the vicinity heard.

She knew she was being watched, so she didn’t roll her eyes. Instead, she schooled her features, let them settle into a cool, practiced mask, and smiled. “They’re here.”

She heard a chorus of clicks behind her, as her companions raised their weapons. Multiple lights scanned the field in front of her, revealing half a dozen or so figures approaching. As the flashlight beams passed over the little group, she noticed the reflected eyeshine in a little over half of the members—a sure sign that the individual in question was a non-human.

She wondered briefly if the others were human. She knew that some packs—including the McCall pack—accepted humans among their ranks, but she never understood why a human would agree to join one. Supernatural creatures shared an instinctual connection to each other that humans could fundamentally never truly share. A human who ran with wolves could only ever be trod on and forgotten.

The individual at the head of the approaching pack turned to speak to his companions. After a short discussion, he approached alone.

She did not move—he could come to her.

Tamora hadn’t seen Scott McCall in person since that night in Beacon Hills High, over three years ago, and she realized that she barely remembered him. All she remembered was the fear.

And at the time, she had reason to be afraid. Gerard Argent had told her who he was, explained that he was the most powerful werewolf in Beacon Hills. That he had others who were loyal to him and would fight on his behalf. She had only met him a handful of times, but the idea of him had terrified her.

But Beacon Hills was in the past, three long years and hundreds of miles away, and she hadn’t felt that sort of fear in a long time.

Face to face with the Alpha for the first time since the night she fired a bullet at his heart, she realized that she wasn’t afraid. At least, not in the way she had been back then—that sort of all-encompassing, fight or flight sort of fear.

She had chosen to fight, and it had been instinctual. Because in the end, all creatures are slaves to instinct.

A quick glance at her watch told Tamora that it was 12:35. It wouldn’t be long now.

She looked back up at McCall as he squinted in the harsh light of the multiple flashlight beams that had suddenly been trained on him, and for a moment, he looked young. Like one of the kids that she visited colleges to recruit. The ones who were so full of pent-up rage at the world, and were desperately looking for guidance and direction.

Except she didn’t see any rage in McCall. There was power in his stance, yes, but beyond that she only saw quiet confidence, mixed with a wary but surprisingly open curiosity.

He broke the silence first. “You’re the one who wanted to meet. But if you have a way that all of this can end—” he glanced behind her and she assumed the guns were now being pointed at him “—then I’m willing to listen.”

She allowed herself a soft smile. “I won’t apologize for the precautions, Scott.” She glanced up pointedly at the moon, which hung above them, unobscured by cloud cover. “I’m afraid we’re all aware of what exactly a night like tonight can mean for someone like yourself.”

He nodded, but didn’t follow her gaze. When she met his eyes again, she saw sympathy, along with another emotion she couldn’t name. It was gone a second later, leaving only the sympathy behind. “Yeah, I am. But you don’t have to be afraid.”

“Fear is a natural response to the unknown. Are you trying to tell me that the ordinary people of this world, they don’t have the right to be afraid?”

His response was immediate. “No, of course they do. The existence of the supernatural— It would terrify anyone. And trust me, I get that.”

It wasn’t the response she expected, and she scoffed. “What could you possibly know about fear?”

“More than you think.” He paused, like he was trying to figure out the correct direction to take the conversation. “Actually, all werewolves do.”

She didn’t quite know what he meant by that, though she supposed that all creatures felt fear. But the content of tonight’s conversation wasn’t important, and all that mattered was that she drew it out as long as possible, so she asked for clarification. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

He considered. “Three months ago there was a kid, sixteen years old. You met him in LA.”

She remembered. “The Omega.” McCall’s face hardened at the term, but he didn’t say anything. “It was a full moon, and he was half-feral to begin with. I was defending myself.”

That night had been an abject failure of the worst kind—not only had they lost their quarry, but one of her best men had been killed in the process. It had also marked the beginning of the string of failures that had eventually led her here.

McCall shook his head. “He was terrified. The moon—” He cut himself off, casting about for the correct words. “It gives us power, yes. But it doesn’t cause the aggression. All it does is amplify what’s already there.”

“Then your kind is dangerous by nature. You’re just good at hiding it the rest of the month.”

“Except it doesn’t amplify aggression. Or, at least, not just aggression. It’s everything you feel—happiness, anger, love. Fear.” He raised his eyebrows slightly and held her gaze. “The boy you tried to kill that night, Alec? He was terrified, and not just of you.”

She wondered what McCall hoped to accomplish by bringing up that particular event. If he meant for her to feel guilt about it, then he was sorely mistaken.

She and her men had been in Los Angeles to hunt an Alpha; they eventually managed to corner him, but not before he had attacked and bitten a young bystander. Once the werewolf was dead, she told the boy the truth—that he would either die, or she would return the next day to kill him.

Though of course, the young werewolf wasn’t even dead—last she heard, he had joined McCall’s apparently ever-expanding pack.

At any rate, her conscience was clear. “He had already been bitten when I found him. You and I both know how that ends.”

He shook his head. “The night you found him, he was attacked. And for some reason that he didn’t fully understand, he survived. But he was dragged forcibly into a dangerous world, one that he knew nothing about, and when someone did show up? They weren’t there to rescue him.” He paused, as if to make sure she was listening, and raised his eyebrows. “I think maybe you know something about that sort of fear.”

She didn’t want to think about cowering, huddled beside the still-warm corpse of a co-worker. About squeezing her eyes shut and praying desperately to a god she didn’t really believe existed.

Tamora eventually shoved the thoughts away, and reminded herself all she really needed to do was keep him talking, and the moon would do the rest soon enough. It didn’t pay to let herself be distracted.

It still took her longer than she wanted to respond, but to her relief, her voice remained even. “If you’re trying to elicit some sort of sympathy from me—”

“I just want you to understand—”

“We’re long past understanding.” She felt her anger surging, and she wasn’t sure if she cared about staying emotionally detached anymore. “And don’t you dare compare your kind to mine, when something that’s a common part of the natural world turns you into a monster!”

He took a step closer, likely about to make yet another impassioned plea for inherent humanity of the inhuman. Or rather, he started to step closer. He stopped suddenly instead, eyes darting to stare at a point over her right shoulder.

She turned to follow his gaze, hand already drifting to her gun at the sudden, serious intent in his eyes. As she did so, several things happened in quick succession:

McCall yelled something she didn’t have time to process, though she thought she heard her name.

The sharp, deafening report of automatic gunfire split the air. Short burst, over as soon as it started.

Not part of the plan.

She turned to yell at whoever had been stupid enough to pull the trigger before it was time. “Hold your fire, goddamn—”

Her right shoulder burned with a new, intense pain.

Her hand flew up to grip the offending area, and she swayed on her feet.

The pain swelled and her vision grayed, and when the world came back into focus she was on the ground.

As far as she could tell, no time had passed. She hadn’t been unconscious. She tried to push herself up into a sitting position, but her shoulder burned like it was on fire, and each movement sent a new wave of pain coursing through her.

McCall looked over his shoulder at his pack and shook his head, then was at her side before any of her men could reach her. All she could see was the moon, and for one brief, frozen second, she was sure this was the moment. McCall would tear out her throat, and the world would finally see him and his pack for the monsters they truly were.

She had hoped that she would live to see it. But if this was how it had to end, then it was worth it.

The blow never came.

She heard footsteps running up behind her, and she tried once again to prop herself up into a sitting position, this time successfully. The expected wave of pain never came. She noted with confusion that McCall’s hand was on hers—she pulled her own away, fixing him with a glare.

Then she noticed black veins slowly receding into his hand and arm, and she froze. Her sudden lack of pain made sense now.

But it was the only thing that did.

The others reached her now, and she looked up to see six guns pointed directly at McCall, who glared back at them.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” This was from one of the men she had only just recently met. Everyone else seemed too wary, too afraid to make a move.

McCall raised his hands slowly, eyes not leaving the face of the man that spoke. He opened his mouth to speak, but Tamora spoke first.

“He took my pain.”

The man looked skeptical. “And why would he ever do that.”

She looked back at McCall and shook her head slowly. “I don’t know.”

After that, everything was almost shockingly mundane. She sent someone to go get the medical kit, and Deanne—one of the cell leaders that she had the most contact with over the past few months—began to bandage her shoulder.

McCall stood to leave, but Tamora stopped him. “I don’t understand.”

He paused, then turned back. And when he spoke, she knew it was words he had considered carefully. “We don’t have to act out of fear. We always have a choice, and there’s always a better way. All I ever wanted was for you to see that.”

He returned to his waiting pack, and she checked her watch. 1:04 AM. The moon had passed its meridian and had already begun to set.

She closed her eyes.

It was supposed to be her moment of victory—a violent object lesson that would prove the accuracy of her beliefs beyond a shadow of a doubt. Instead, the moment came and went. And she didn’t even notice.

McCall hadn’t become aggressive or angry, or had even looked like he was fighting it. Instead, all he had been was kind.

She planned for tonight to be the great unmasking—the moment when she tore back the curtain of civility and revealed the monsters to the world. If she had proved that even the great True Alpha Scott McCall was little more than a feral beast, then humans around the world would’ve rallied to her cause.

But she hadn’t. And maybe—

Maybe he wasn’t.

Maybe he never had been.

It was treacherous thought, and she betrayed herself by thinking it. Her shoulder throbbed dully, though it was still nowhere near the earlier waves of pain

For the first time in years, she wasn’t entirely certain what to do next.

#fictober20 #scott mccall #tamora monroe #so full disclosure this was written over like. 5 days. and absolutely no editing was done #but here it is and if nothing else i am very attached to a lot of these concepts #my fic

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swordoforion · 3 years

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Orion Digest №42 - The Crossroads of Human History: Why We Should Persist

The events of the past few centuries have brought the threat of extinction closer than it has arguably ever been. War, pollution, disease - as much as the human race has come together with modern innovations, we have also opened the door to the end of human history, and our choices now will determine the future of billions, if not potential trillions. Will we die in a hate-fueled inferno, or stride atop the surfaces of distant planets? Will we drag all of life on Earth down with us, or will we learn to find harmony with it? While there have been many tumultuous times in the history of our species, the idea of it coming to an end makes this time especially vital.

And yet, there are many who argue that perhaps humanity does not deserve to live on, or that it simply cannot. There are some who object to our past and current actions, and believe that human nature prevents us from living peacefully and logically. They think that even if we did survive, we'd be at each other's throats, and it would only spell suffering for many at the hands of few. Others raise the moral flag in regards to our effects upon other species and nature, citing our haphazard destruction as grounds for us to die so that other species may live. Some believe that existence itself simply isn't worth the costs it requires upon the individual.

It is hard to deny that human history has been filled with suffering, and what is worse, unequal and unjust suffering. There have been many souls who, by their mere appearance, have been condemned to live life treated differently than others, spending their days in fear, and working their whole lives just to find some semblance of comfort. Progress has been made on some social fronts, but that fight is far from over, and with a great many problems of our own design on the rise, it is safe to say that the toughest times of humanity may not yet be behind us. The world is getting hotter, the disasters are becoming rougher, the class divide and associated required labor from the working class is increasing, and we still haven't yet cracked the goal of equality.

The situation, admittedly, can seem rather hopeless. And, with the storm on the horizon, we might have the first opportunity in history to stop the race entirely - before things get worse, we have the option to end the human race through whatever means are available, and be done with all of it. We, as the human race, stand at the crossroads of human history, and are granted two choices - accept our destruction, guaranteeing an end to suffering, or persist on, going into the unknown and chancing that our circumstances will worsen. It is a question that has been asked many, many times.

So, what reason do we have to persist, in the face of all that is horrid and terrifying in the world?

As painful as life can be, most people choose to keep living it. Buried beneath the poignant pains and toils, there are brighter things in the world. Large joys that give us purpose, small joys that brighten our day. There is even meaning in pain - by knowing what it feels like to lose or hurt, we appreciate much more how it feels to win or remain safe. The grand knowledge of all that there is and could be in the world - the sights around us, the stories we tell, the friends we love, the memories we cherish - when simply put to the background of our perception, they may not seem worth as much, but to weigh those below the void of non-existence, they are rather valuable.

What is more, we assume that we must go on without improvement, that this crisis we face is all that humans can be or amount to. What is past cannot be changed, but the knowledge of our past gives us the ability to learn from it, and we have proven time and time again that the human mind can conquer anything in its path given time and reason. If we have the ability to subjugate ourselves, to put ourselves in so grave of danger that it could spell not only the end of Earth's dominant species, but potentially most of life on Earth, surely we also have the ability to undo what we have wrought. It is merely a matter of how we order ourselves and where we shift our weight. Given the knowledge and push, the suffering we believe is inevitable could be lifted, Earth made a utopia.

It is a risk to rely on the hope that humanity will settle its issues, but the chance becomes more assured the more we believe in it, the more we support it. If we assume it to be impossible, something unachievable, then it will become so. All those who argue that human nature is to be violent, angry, and spiteful see only a sample of humans forced to resort to their animalistic natures for survival. When one is forced to fight tooth and nail for food and shelter - as one must do in the job market so they may earn money for necessities - they will of course put their survival as a priority. Raised in a world where the value of wealth and luxury is placed on so high a pedestal, it makes sense that people would rush to assure their security, even at the cost of others, for how many would risk their own downfall for a stranger when raised to do the opposite?

However, the unique quality of humans is that with our intelligence and empathy, we can overcome these instincts and fears, rising higher into levels of psychological need and actualization, where we see the strings that hold the puppets. We can come to understand that the system of economy, if managed adequately, could easily be made to support all who live under it, and that with understanding, we could prosper together. We may have within us animal instincts, but if we can understand them, we can control them. Human society already does, in its own way, harness the power of human behavior, manipulating each and every citizen to act in a way that perpetuates its qualities, positive and negative.

The toils and struggles of human existence, that drive many to wish that they had never been born, are human in origin. We are aware of this fact, and while a difficult task, we could one day hope to create a future in which new generations are born, still laboring and having their own individual struggles, but never unjustly, and never without the accompanying joy and hope. It is one thing to push a stone up a hill, and another entirely to do it in chains. It is hard to envision a better world when you have spent your entire life in one; for all you know, it is entirely imaginary, and impossible to achieve. You have spent all your time meeting maybe a handful of people (if any who don't ultimately buy into the flaws of the system in some way; how could there conceivably exist an entire society who behaves as such? From an insider's point of view, flawed is all humanity might ever be.

But that is just it - humanity is both gifted with the ability to see past our mundane perceptions and illusions, as well as to allow our minds to settle into them. It lets us have the foresight to know that the illusion can be shattered, and that we can overcome what we believe to be absolute, while also not being so overcome by such presence of mind that we view life in terms of numbers and psychology, savoring the joy and feeling true the fear. Our emotions and logic affect one another, with the realization of change accompanied by hope, and the frustrating monotony of the world bringing about hopelessness and fear. The same world can cause one mind to imagine life as a purposeless bout of pain, while bringing another to see the beauty and majesty that does exist, and can exist in even greater measure.

The difference in the two is circumstance - what side of the world are you raised in, and what do you see? We know, through logic, that our problems are based on economics, government, and the socialization bred via layered ignorance. A child can be raised in a healthy manner, given the chance to learn about the world around them and respectfully form their own identity, and have the belief that life is indeed worth living, with happiness worth the pursuit of it. However, that same child could have instead been thrown through different traumatic events, and trapped by the demands and expectations of the world around them while they still struggle to process it all. The second child will know the world as cruel, and may lack trust - for what would trust bring them but possibly greater pain? Pain they could not hope to bear?

Which side is right about the world, and not merely the constructed world of humans, but the metaphysical world that is existence itself, in all its infinite potential? If we made such relatively small adjustments as changing how we view mental health and allowing for more personalized models of labor, the entire universe for one person could change, the grand picture of existence reshaped by something as small as policy and structure. While able to understand the concept of things beyond our own point of view, the truth is that these bleak ideas of nihilism come from a perspective that only views the world through a small lens, that sees the horrors and mistakes we have made, but not the capacity to change, if we knew we were able. It is a self-perpetuating cycle - we created a hopeless world which convinces us it is hopeless, and so we continue to create a hopeless world which convinces future generations, and so on, but if we were to break the cycle and take advantage of our ability to change the world, no longer would people be convinced and raised to act so terribly.

At this crossroads of human history, the question is asked - if we brought ourselves to the brink, should we just fall in, rather than potentially making it worse? This question is asked by those who have only ever known the cruel world, watching others taught that it is acceptable to treat others with such disgusting indifference. However, to broaden the lens and see that it was ignorance that caused the first misstep, bringing us through a domino chain to where we are today, tells us that if we are capable of destroying the world, we are certainly capable of changing it. Which option we take is ultimately a matter of which we believe in. If we believe that humans can be good and overcome our animal natures, I have full faith that it will happen. If we believe that humans are incapable of doing so, then we may very well perish.

Between the two options, I have given much thought. For the sake of those that might come into this world just to suffer, I hesitate to say it is worth it for those who might come afterwards in an improved world - sacrificing lives not just to death but torture, all for the happiness of those who have not yet been born. However, this assumes suffering will become an eventuality, and if we were to actively seek humanity's demise, so would suffering result in the inter-rim. To give up hope entirely ensures things will not get better; to persist means that very well could. Instead of wasting time arguing about how bad things could get if we fail, it would do much better to get up and fight to ensure that we don't. Even if we are unsuccessful, is it not better to die in hope than in misery?

And so, I believe that when faced with the choice of dying here at the crossroads or continuing onward into the unknown depths of the future, the latter choice is entirely worthwhile, despite the sentiments of others. We cannot wipe off the stains of our history and ignorance, but we can ensure that the deaths of all those who perished under the sword of injustice do not go unavenged. New children could be born one day, the groundwork for a better and more informed start beneath their feet, and live the lives their ancestors dreamed of, carrying on that hope. And those that march on in the future will appreciate our decision to fight on another day more than we can ever know.

- DKTC FL

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