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cherripeach · 3 years

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Chapter 11

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it. Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Chapter 1:6-8 when there's too much drama at school- all you gotta do is walk awwwaawy

Warnings: Curse words, violence

Words: 4.5k

Relationships: developing but future twstxreader

Ace dragged Grim to your seats that you picked out by the scruff of his fur on his neck and tossed the struggling cat onto your lap for you to deal with in which you could only hold him like a teddy bear.

“Don’t wanna, don’t wanna! I don’t wanna go back to boring classes!” Grim groaned while wiggling in your hold.

You squeezed the cat tighter, “Can’t help it if you are already here, huh?”

“Damn it! You’re being kinda harsh today,” Grim moaned as he tugged on your jacket by your wrists.

The teacher coughed to get the attention of you three, and he surprisingly had that attention through the rest of class, forgetting about Grim’s nap and Ace’s doodling.

Once the lunch bell had rung, the two idiots who were not at all interested in the previous lecture sprung up and leaped to begin the trek to the cafeteria. Deuce tried to not show as much enthusiasm by joining your side in your walk, but his long footsteps and quick strides told you otherwise.

The cafeteria was as polished and refined as it was before your group broke the magic chandelier last night which surprised you more than it should have because you are in a completely different dimension where most things impossible in your previous dimension are possible here like a talking cat who is too arrogant for his own good. All of this just means in your brain that you should be used to it, but you also remembered how the Headmaster mentioned how ‘magic was not all powerful.’ All of this just confused you.

Grim threw himself ahead of your group and into the cafeteria lines, “Yeah! It’s finally lunch time!!!” Grim’s eyes lit up while he was wandering around the cafeteria and studying what he knew best, food, “I see a lotta delicious stuff already.”

Your eyes found the menu above each food station and found the prices, and even if you did not understand currency in this world, it still seemed too rich for you. A sigh slipped through your lips, “As if we’ll be able to afford half of the food here anyway.”

Grim proclaimed while bouncing up and down, “A fluffy omelet! Grilled chicken and a bacon & egg tart!!”

“You’re too loud!” Ace had his ears covered while lecturing the cat, “You’re pretty energetic even at lunch time, huh!”

Grim ran back to your location and tugged on your cloak while pointing at all the food, “I wanna have some grilled chicken! Come on, there’s only one more left! Oh, and omelets, too! And bread and jam! Go get them all!” The cat ended up in a line and got a piece of grilled chicken before reporting back to your group where you decided to head for a table.

The cat, full of excitement, sprinted off in front of you only to knock into a male with a red armband and pen in his coat pocket, causing the male to stumble and Grim to fall on his butt and yelp.

“Hey, you bastard!” The male with the white hair (which you still question is real even though your friend is a literal talking cat) sneered at Grim, so you tried to calmly approach the group to see what the problem was, “My pasta’s soft-boiled egg is on the floor ‘cause you bumped into me!”

You muttered out, “You're shitting with me,” as you slowly gained on the group to join the conversation.

“Oh, man,” A male located to the right of the white haired boy wined, “The soft-boiled egg’s the best part of carbonara.” His laugh dropped when he spoke, “How’re you gonna pay for that, huh, punk!?” The male snickered at Grim.

Dude with the white hair left his plate of food on an empty table before he made a give-here motion with his hand, “Guess I’ll just have to make do with you giving me that grilled chicken you’ve got there.”

Grim wrapped his paws around the plate, “Wha–!? I don’t wanna! This chicken is mine!” He backed away from the two, only to bump into your legs.

The second male rolled his eyes and put his plate next to the first male’s plate to start approaching you and Grim, “Huh? That's not how a freshie should talk to his senior?” You pushed Grim behind your legs before the second male had made it to you, only for the male to begin yelling at the both of you, “YOU B-” Your leg shot straight to his crotch, paralyzing him while he gripped the area.

The first male threw his hands into fists near his chest and grabbed his magic pen from his pocket, “You’re asking for it, your bitch. I’ll-”

You did the same thing to the first male and kicked him in the dick.

��Sorry, not sorry. But personally, I will never respect a senior who shows no respect for me. No one deserves respect or authority. They earn it. And, in my eyes you deserve nothing from me. I am positive that you are both aware of who we are and what we have caused on our first day, and you decided to target us because we seemed ‘weak’ in your eyes. And you know what, I’m fine with being called weak. You know why?” Your side of the cafeteria was silent all listening in to your voice, “No one actually knows your strength.”

You walked up to the first boy who started this fight who was still holding his crotch while he grumbled out, “You're just a pussy.”

You chuckled, “That’s very ironic because you are in fact the actual definition of a pussy which is short for pusillanimous, meaning a scaredy cat. Your small mind wouldn’t know that, would it?”

The boy with the white hair spat at your shoes.

You nodded your head, “Get all your anger out, baby. I’ve been dying to talk to one of the prefects here, and you just happen to belong to the Hearts dorm.” You paused for a second and placed your pointer finger on your chin, “I wonder what he’ll do when I tell him how you threatened the only non-magic user of the school with magic. And I’m pretty sure using it outside of class will result in a large punishment.”

You turned away from the boys to greet the wide eyes and open mouths of your friend group.

The second male groaned, “We’ll get you. I promise.”

You rolled your eyes and did not even turn to look at the boys, “Well, my promise still stands. I’m never above tatling.” You waved to the boys while your group began to find a table, “Have a great day!”

You could feel the eyes following you to your table.

Ace moaned once you joined the group, “I missed breakfast and I’m about to pass out. Thank Seven nothing happened!”

Deuce sighed, “That was quite the predicament. To think that there would be such brutes in a prestigious magic school…”

You found the perfect table and walked to it, “Anything is possible.”

“Can you not stand up for Grim next time?” Ace frowned at you, “As much as I hate to say it, they could have started using magic. You can’t go charging in thinking you are the hero when everyone else has something you don’t here.”

You stuck out your tongue in defiance and ignored his words.

Once seated at the table, the four of you dug into your food.

Grim bit into the omelette and moaned, “The omelette is so fluffy, and the cheese is so melty~!” He shoved another bite into his mouth, “ By the by, I saw you guys’ dorm a while ago, but what do the other dorms look like?”

You swallowed your food before adding, “Yeah, dudes, your dorm was sick and suitable to live in. Wonder what the other ones are like.”

A tray was placed down next to you, “You’ve seen the statues of the Great Seven by Main Street, right? This school has seven dorms based off of them.”

You stared at the male for a quick second, finding him familiar but not having the ability to remember where he was from, “Ah wait, who are you?”

Ace waved his fork around groaning, “You’re the dude from this morning!”

Grim stood up on the bench and accused the male, “He’s the guy who tricked us into painting roses red!”

“That’s why he’s familiar…” You mumbled to yourself.

The male took a seat next to you and whistled before taking a bite of his food and announcing that he “Didn’t trick you, you know? It’s not like I wanted to do that either. I only did it ‘cause it’s the Dorm’s rules.”

“You looked so happy about it though,” Deuce uttered out while chewing on his food.

The senior waved his hand around to try and comfort his junior, “There, there, Deucey. The rules don’t matter outside the dorms so, Cate here is just your very gentle senior.” He placed his hand on top of his heart and pushed his shoulders back, and you could even see the slightest bit of sunlight coming from behind his head.

Deuce flushed red and shook his head back and forth, “Ple.. please stop calling me that, senpai!”

Another tray was sat down next to Ace, and a rather attractive man appeared with the tray. Green hair and glasses and a clover on his cheek, this male was both sort of odd for an ordinary person but compared to the rest of the people here seemed that he could blend in well.

The new male chortled at the situation, “That’s how Cater expresses his affection, you know?” and shrugged his shoulders.

Everyone’s brain at the table besides Cater’s buffered.

So Ace, with an eyebrow raised and a spoon with some food on it also raised, asked the dying question, “Wait…” Ace tilted his head, “Who are you?”

The male sat down and rubbed the back of his neck, “Oops, my bad. . My name’s Trey, Trey Clover. I’m a Heartslabyul 3rd year alongside Cater.” He stated, pointing toward the other male.

The four of your group nodded slowly before the male turned to you, “ And you...you’re from the Ramshackle… um.” He paused and coughed a bit before continuing, “The new student who’s currently residing in the unused dorm, correct?”

“You can call it Ramshackle or whatever. Believe me it has several health code violations and is just not somewhere I would choose to live.” You sighed out, “But when one doesn’t have a choice it is best to make do with what they have.”

Ace just frowned at you, “Wow... smooth words.” He rolled his eyes after.

Trey ignored your side conversation and just awkwardly chucked, “I heard all about it from Cater. Sorry for the trouble our doommates caused you yesterday.”

Ace broke out into an offended look at the male and shifted closer to Deuce, “He’s just casually sitting next to me..”

Cater grinned at the three, “Come on! We’re in the same school, so we should get along! Give me your number!”

You inquired to Cater about what he just said, “Wait, wait, wait. You have phones here! And so now the only thing that could keep me sane and connected to the real world that I would normally have is here, but I can’t have it because it’s too expensive? Damn I need a raise.”

“Oh?” Cater bounced in his seat, “Oh, so you do have a number? Are you the type to not upload many pictures? Tell me your username!” Cater whipped out his phone and held it up waiting for you to start. When you didn’t, his face slowly moved closer to yours until you had to start backing away.

Trey sighed, “Cater, the newbie’s backing away. Keep it to a minimum.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Cater put his phone away and waved his hands around.

You scooted back to your spot muttering, “It’s okay.”

“So, you guys were askin’ about the dorms? That’s nice! A fresh convo!” Carter hoped back into a new conversation.

Ace looked up from his food, “ I wanna know about our Dorm first and foremost. What the heck is that Rule Number something of something of the Queen of Hearts?”

You could only imagine what Ace was feeling for only being in the dorm for one day and already being kicked out for rules that he knew nothing of, “Yeah, it seems kinda of counterproductive, those rules.”

Trey explained to your group, “I’m sure you’re all familiar with the legendary Queen of Hearts, right? In order to establish absolute law and order, she made severe rules in order to oppress the eccentric citizens of Wonderland.”

Cater added, “And out of respect for the Queen of Hearts, our Heartslabyul Dorm wears red and black in order to represent the dress she wore. And it’s part of our traditions to adhere to the Queen of Hearts’ rules.” He shoved more of his food into his mouth and grabbed his phone out of his pocket to check it.

Grim exclaimed, “Sounds rough!”

“Adhering to the rules is the present Prefect’s whims.” Cater checked his phone again, “The previous one was kinda chill about it.”

Nodding, Trey agreed, “Compared to the other Prefects, Riddle is just a little bit more serious. That’s why he’s trying so hard to keep the traditions.”

“Ugh… How annoying..” Ace hissed out.

Grim tapped his paw to his chin, “Hey, what kinda places are the other dorms?”

“Again, I’m still curious.” Thinking about the style of the first dorm, you could only imagine how planned out the other dorms are.

Your kindhearted green haired upperclassman started to tell you the details of the dorms, “Just like Cater said a while ago, this school has seven dorms dedicated to the Great Seven.”

Your mind flashed to the seven statues at the front of the school you had to take care of on the first day of classes, “Those statues in the front?”

Trey nodded, “Yep, those are the Great Seven. I’m surprised you didn’t know.”

“Eh, I guess I just forgot,” You did not want any odd attention to be on you, so you tried and continued the conversation, “But they are all related to a specific dorm?”

“Yes. First, we have our dorm that’s grounded on following the Queen of Hearts’ Laws with our entire being: Heartslabyul Dorm.”

The Queen of Hearts were not laws that you wanted to follow, but you were still very curious about why people would commit themselves to it.

“Savanaclaw that’s grounded on the fortitude of the King of Beasts.”

Scar if you could remember correctly. And another dorm that you couldn’t understand why they would follow that leader, but whatever.

“After that, we have Octavinelle that was founded on the Sea Witch’s benevolence.”

Benevolence is not what you would call it; there had to be a mistake in the story.

“And then we have Scarabia that was formed from the careful planning of the Sorcerer of the Desert.”

A pedophile, of all people?? Jafar should not be considered anything near a great person.

“Pomefiore, the house grounded on the magnanimous efforts of the Beautiful Queen”

Okay, but like she kinda cute; while we don’t condone actions… Of course, her name being ‘Beautiful’ trips you up, but all of this is an issue for later.

“Then there’s Ignihyde whose foundations lie on the perseverance of the King of the Underworld.”

Going off the Disney movie, yes, he was the villain. But going off of Greek Mythology. Never. Never.

“Lastly, we have Diasomnia that was founded on the gracefulness of the Queen of Thorns.”

She kinda cursed a child, but we all have our petty days.

“There wouldn’t happen to be a book in the library about them. Would there? I would like to refresh my memories on them.” As much reading as you did in the past, you knew this had to happen. Your only chance to figure out anything in this world was in that library.

“Of course,” Your new upperclassman was the kindest, “I can show you if you would like.”

Grim brings you two back to the other conversation with his announcement, “All of their names are friggin’ long! I can’t remember all of that!”

Giggling into his hand, Cater winked at Grim, “That’s completely okay. You’ll remember them even if you don’t want to.”

Trey continued, “Just like you’ve witnessed during the ceremony, the Mirror of Darkness decides

what Dorm you’ll belong to after looking into your soul. I guess you could say that the dorms really reflect the student’s character.”

“That’s true.” Cater agreed, “I totally get it!”

Deuce could not agree, “Character?”

You snapped your fingers, “Like personality and maybe like talents?”

Trey guided your group’s attention to the wolf boy you met in PE, “For example… Look over there.”

“That’s the guy who wasn’t dying after the torture session in PE,” You pointed out.

“Judging by appearance, he looks like he’s from Savanaclaw.” Trey concluded.

Cater now had his phone in his hand and was scrolling through something before looking up to join the conversation, “Totes! They look like a dorm that’s got a lot of athletes and guys that’re good at scuffles! They’re pretty brawny? Or I guess you could say, they’re all pretty buff? Either way, Savanaclaw’s colors are yellow and black.”

Grim signaled to a male with a beauty mark on his chin and silver-blue hair and glasses, “Oh~ Then what about that one with the gray and uh… Light purple on their sleeves?”

(Seemed like a little pretty boy was your only thought about the glasses male)

Trey replied, “He’s from Octavinelle. The two sitting on the table beside him with the dark-red and gold colors are from Scarabia.” The table he was talking about held one person who you are positive you have seen before and another taller boy who just gave you a bad vibe.

“It’s been said that both are dorms full of smart people,” Cater added, “When it comes to written tests, nothing can beat those two. Ah, but Scarabia’s Prefect’s only so-so when it comes to studying.”

Ace huffed, “Alright, I sense a red flag here.”

You bet, “Yeah, as if. If anything I wouldn’t think that test scores are the only factor of a prefect.”

“You adapt pretty quickly, huh, Ace. You not so much,” The male sighed at you.

“That was rude.” You huffed and ate more of your food, and then, mumbling, “It’s not like I know shit about this world.”

Trey rolled his eyes to look up and puffed out, “Going back to the topic, those bright and sparkling ones over there are from Pomefiore. Their colors are purple and red.”

Grim bursted out, “Wha–!! There’s a really cute girl over there!”

You smacked the back of Grim’s head and scolded him, “Hey, don’t assume anything about them.”

“Eh!?” Deuce questioned, “Even though this is an all-boys’ school!?”

“Idiot.” Ace mocked, “As if they’d let a girl pass the sorting ceremony of an all-boys’ school.”

While Grim and Deuce were freaking out, you turned to Trey and Cater and asked, “I’m assuming gender expression is all over? What are your pronouns?”

Cater seemed delighted to be asked and replied with a simple, “That is true. Oh, he/him is fine, but I’d rather you’d call my cell.” With a wink at the end.

Trey responded, “Same as him, besides the last part. Though I don’t think many people here ask that even if the expressions are all over the spectrum.”

“Just wanted to make this a safe place,” You didn’t really know much about this world. Like maybe it was more acceptable here? Or it could be the opposite…

Cater nudged Ace and those two began a talk about a portrait in the school. It seemed to be some of the only girl contact some of these boys got.

After Ace gagged in his throat, Cater waved his hands and turned back to the group, “It doesn’t matter, does it? Well, in any case, Pomefiore’s full of pretty faces who take their beauty routines very seriously. Their Prefect’s a pretty famous influencer who’s got over 5 million followers.” Cater boasted while holding up five fingers.

Trey shook his head, “ Don’t judge them based on face value alone. Pomefiore’s got a lot of students who excel at alchemy and charms.”

“If I knew what that was a little more than I know now I feel like I would be more impressed.” You guessed, but with your luck anything could happen. It did remind you of the Evil Queen though.

Cater chuckled into his hand and threw up a thumbs-up, “That’s right!” He, then, directed everyone’s attention to look at the cafeteria, but he could never direct everyone’s attention to a specific person, “Then, there’s Ignihyde, and they wear blue and black, but… I don’t see them around anywhere.” All of the group’s attention was given back to Cater since there was not a single student, “The students from that dorm are all sorta private, so I don’t have friends there either. I guess you could call them the complete opposite of Heartslabyul.”

Grim slumped and dragged his food into his mouth, “You mean, they’re pretty gloomy?”

Trey scolded, “Hey, now! Don’t be rude. Though, it’s true that they all seem pretty behaved and quiet. They’ve got a lot of members who have great magical energy and they’re pretty techy, too.”

It made you think about all the technology in this world and how different it was definitely going to be in this world.

Deuce inquired, “Then there’s… Diasomething Dorm, correct?”

You nodded, “Dia-what-ya-call-it.”

“Stop acting like you got it right.” Ace puffed out his chest, “It’s Diasomnia, got it?”

Deuce sputtered, “I just bit my tongue.”

Cater pointed, “Diasomnia is… Oh, there.” There was a table full of odd balls from what you can tell, “The guys who are sitting by the cafeteria’s exclusive tables.Their colors are light-green and black. They’re kinda—How do I put it? Super popular?They’ve got an aura that makes it hard for us commoners to approach them. Their Prefect is super difficult to grasp.”

“Difficult to grasp,” You titled your head, “What the fuck does that mean?”

Ace shoved your shoulder, “Shut up and look. They’ve got a kid with them.” He pointed toward a young looking male with black and pink hair. He really reminded you of a pretty boy from anime.

“I bet you ten bucks he’s one of the oldest ones here. And besides I really don't think we should be judging by appearances at this place of all places.” You pointed to Grim who had so much food shoved in his mouth he looked like a chipmunk, “we lit have a cat.”

Trey sighed, “Grade-skipping is allowed here, so that’s possible. But, he’s not a child, he’s a 3rd year like us. His name is” Trey was cut off by another voice.

A much deeper voice appeared behind you, “Lilia is my name. Lilia Vanrouge” And the child who was definitely not a child to you appeared upside down in the air. You knew that you should be surprised, but at this point in time you didn’t have the effort.

Grim shot up from his seat, “Th..uh.this guy teleported here!”

You stared up at the male with wide eyes, but then, shook your head, “You are surprisingly not the oddest person I have seen today, but I have to applaud you for some of the nicest hair. And it is real cool how you can just float upside down. Like a bat... Or something.”

Lilia bowed while still hanging out upside down, “I thank thou for such a genuine compliment. Pray tell, are thou interested in mine dorm members?” He raised his hand to cover his mouth when he chuckled, “Fufufu, it is true that I might resemble a sprightly and endearing young boy. However, just like that man in glasses has said, I am a child no longer.”

“How the fuck did he say “fufuf” out loud?” You gasped out, “Also pay up Ace.” You made ‘give me-give me’ motions with your hand.

“Sprightly,” Trey smiled widely.

Lilia quizzed, “Prithee, why not approach us instead of simply watching from afar? Are we not comrades from the same school? We from Diasomnia will welcome you anytime.” While still upside down, he threw his arms out into his full wing span.

You were scared of this dude, but at the same time not, “Perfect, totally next time, dude.” You threw a wink and a thumbs-up.

Deuce covered his mouth and whispered something to Ace.

Lilia chortled, “Fufu. Pardon me from appearing from above while you dined. I will be taking my leave now.” The male waved his hand and disappeared.

Ace muttered something back to deuce.

Trey stammered, “W-well… That’s how it is.” Trey closed his eyes and smiled before opening them back up, “Diasomnia’s got a lot of very special students.Their dorm has a lot of members that are pretty gifted. Their Prefect, Malleus Draconia, is said to be one of the five greatest sorcerers of our world.”

“TBH,” Cater was scrolling through his phone, “Malleus is sorta like, the awesomest of the awesome.” He turned off his phone and tossed his hair back, “Well, our Prefect’s pretty dangerous, too.”

You paused, eyes squinted and mouth agape, thinking, ‘How would you even measure that?’

Ace snorted, “You’re telling me! He puts a collar on someone just for eating his tart? He’s the worst, no doubt!” He pointed his spoonful of food at Cater for emphasis on his words.

You noticed that a male was behind Ace when was in the middle of his statement. He had bright red hair with two cow-licks on his head and gray eyes. What you found adorable, however, was how his tie was tied like a bow and had a little crown on the side of it. The male was crossing his arms with a wide grin on his face.

His mouth began moving and a smooth voice came out, “Hm? I’m the worst?” The grin grew.

Cater froze while slowly shifting his eyes to look at Ace and not the new person. Deuce and Trey just froze in shock for this new person to join the conversation. You paused and realized that this was probably the prefect.

You softly sang out, “You're screwed.”

Ace was not perceiving anything at this moment and only continued, “Yeah. Only a tyrant will keep up with those kinda rules. Gimme a break.” He puffed out and drank the rest of his drink in one swish back.

“Ace...,” Deuce whined, “look behind us!”

Ace shouted, “GEH! Prefect?!” and jumped in his seat.

You could only hope Ace would survive for the rest of the day.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #grim twst

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waveypedia · 4 years

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and i’ll shine for everyone who’s with me

[MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE PHANTOM AND THE SORCERESS]

ao3

In her time adventuring with Webby and the McDuck clan, Lena has learned that there are three stages to the day of the adventure. The before, the during, and the after.

This falls solely into the after category. The adrenaline wears off, and Lena slides into one of the tall-backed chairs at Scrooge’s dining table. Mrs. Beakley carries out platters of fluffy pancakes, and Donald follows with mugs full of steaming hot chocolate. The go-to post-adventure meal.

The atmosphere is comfortingly familiar. Lena’s done this dance many times before, but it never gets old. The sense of safety she feels, crowded around the table with some of her favorite people in the world (when Ty and Indy come to pick her and Violet up, and invariably spend an hour schmoozing with the adults, it will be everyone) was rare before she was freed from Magica and almost nonexistent before she met Webby. Now, it’s almost second nature.

That’s what recovery feels like, she muses. That feels good to think.

The table is quiet, with Dewey, Webby, Della, and Scrooge trading stories and hyping up their favorite moment of the adventure. The rest of them chime in occasionally, too tired to fully get into the swing of things. As usual, Dewey dozes off quickly, leaning his head on his hand and his eyes drooping shut. The rest of the kiddos follow soon, but they’re not quite asleep yet.

“Hey Lena,” Della muses. Lena blinks. “What’s with the new outfit? It looks nice.”

“It looks like something outta Fenton’s animes,” Louie mutters. Huey elbows him in the ribs.

Lena shrugs it off. He’s not wrong, anyway. “It came on when I figured out how to control my innate magic. I don’t really know how it works, or why it looks like that.”

“It’s neat,” Dewey says. “You picked the best color.”

Lena snorts. “I didn’t really pick it. But thanks.”

She stretches out her hands in front of her and examines them. Blue really isn’t all that bad of a color. It’s definitely better than purple.

It’s growing on her.

“Well, I think you look really pretty!” Webby says, and Lena chuckles softly. “Not that you weren’t pretty before.”

Huey whips out his Junior Woodchuck Guidebook, always at the ready. “Can you change back?”

“I hypothesize that, since Lena’s magic is enhanced by our friendship magic, it was triggered to protect us,” Violet states. “She should go back to normal soon.”

Lena flexes her fingers. “I wish I knew how.”

“You’ll get it,” Violet says. Her voice seems monotone to those who don’t know her well, but Lena can tell she’s trying to be gentle and reassuring. “You figured out how to control your magic, didn’t you? It makes sense that you will overcome this next block.”

“Lena can do anything!” Webby cheers, punching a fist in the air, and Lena smiles.

Lena’s magical form (which the boys have taken to calling a magical girl anime transformation, much to Lena’s dismay) does in fact go away after a little while. It grows on her, but oh is she happy to see her normal clothes again.

For a couple weeks, it’s almost as if her battle with the Phantom Blot never happened. Lena continues her online schooling, helps Violet with her Junior Woodchuck-ing in the form of snarky quips, works on her portfolio, and continues struggling with her piano scales. Sure, the Sabrewings’ stress level goes down fifty percent with the lack of unwanted magical shenanigans, but Ty and Indy already give her so many daily hugs, it’s hard to tell. Lena knows they love her unconditionally, but it still feels nice to make them feel a little better.

The first major change occurs on a pretty inconspicuous day, but not an inconspicuous event.

Huey finally convinced Violet to come on a Junior Woodchuck camping trip with him, so she’s out in the forest outside of Duckburg for the weekend. Lena, who misses her sister more than she’ll admit out loud, and knowing Webby is missing her brother, suggested a day out.

“It’s been a while since we’ve hung out, just you and me, Pink,” Lena quips, softly punching Webby’s shoulder. Webby beams wider than should be possible and punches her back. Lena grins through the pain, because it’s worth it to see Webby happy.

It was supposed to be ice cream. It was just supposed to be ice cream.

But of course, with Webby, as with the rest of the McDuck clan, that’s never the case.

Lena and Webby are sitting on the patio outside their ice cream parlor, licking cones of strawberry and vanilla-chocolate swirl respectively. They’ve pulled out the Brittania and Anglebeth personas again, and are having fun giving each other ridiculous requests in British accents. Webby’s teaching Della how to make a friendship bracelet for Penumbra, and since Webby and Della get along like a house on fire, she has quite the tale to tell. Webby is about halfway through her story, ice cream forgotten in favor of an overly dramatic retelling of her Sunday afternoon, when it strikes.

There’s a crash inside the ice cream shop, setting both Lena and Webby’s adventure-honed nerves on edge. With a quick glance exchanged, they grab their things and hurry inside the shop.

The Beagle Boys are swarming the shop, cackling as they chase after customers. Bigtime Beagle is heckling with the cashier to get some money while Burger Beagle requests a three-scoop waffle cone.

Falcon Graves, the kids’ least favorite professional corporate saboteur, strides in after them, wrinkling his nose at the chaos. He joins Bigtime at the counter, making sharp, quick demands to the cashier.

The remaining Beagle Boys spread out along the edges of the shop, hemming the customers in. Lena spots one of the Tumblebum’s hands inch toward the glint of a crowbar concealed in their pocket, and throws her ice cream away entirely. Webby whips out her grappling hook.

Graves pulls out a gun the same time as the Tumblebum unleashes their crowbar, and Lena and Webby leap into action.

Lena’s not a fighter the same way Webby is. She wasn’t subjected to a strict spy training regime from childhood (although Magica’s was close), and she doesn’t go on weekly adventures that require her to battle foes. She did live on the streets for fifteen years, and she’s spent enough time around Donald, Webby, and Beakley to know how to hold her own in a physical fight. And hold her own she does. Lena and Webby take out the Beagle Boys on the side, and help some of the civilians escape.

But those are only the henchmen.

Graves and Bigtime, apparently not content with just snatching the contents of the cash register, turn their anger on Lena and Webby while Burger follows the terrified cashier with his ice cream. Webby cracks her knuckles, and aims her grappling hook directly behind Graves, using the momentum to kick him in the face. He grabs her by the ankle and slams her violently to the ground. There’s a sickening crack that grabs Lena’s attention, even though she’s preoccupied with Bigtime.

Lena freezes, terror rushing through her veins.

“Webby!!!!”

Graves is laughing, that monster, but Lena doesn’t even register it. It’s like static, muffled. For a moment, Lena is not there. Lena is in her own little bubble, not processing anything, even as Bigtime’s fist rises towards her face. Lena’s brain goes Webby hurt protect and all hell breaks loose.

Blue magic flares around her, knocking Graves and Bigtime back into the wall. The counter where they made impact wobbles and crashes to the floor, spilling ice cream everywhere. The ceiling fans rattle, and the lights flicker. Lena doesn’t notice.

The shop is silent. Graves and Bigtime do not rise. The cashier, trembling, peeks out from behind the door to the backroom. Burger is nowhere to be seen - he probably fled.

None of that registers to Lena. She has only one thought: Webby.

Lena gasps and takes off like a shot to her friend, kneeling beside her. “Pink. Pink! You okay?”

Webby opens her eyes, blinking. She looks tired, but not seriously hurt. “Yeah- yeah. That- that was pretty awesome, Lena!”

Lena helps Webby to her feet, blinking around at the damage. Bigtime is out cold, ice cream pooling around his feet, and Graves is groaning and rubbing his head. Neither of them have gotten up.

Lena looks down at her hands. They’re blue-gloved again, and she can feel her longer hair flop against her head.

“So the magic form is back,” Lena muses, half annoyed. “Great.”

Webby knocks her shoulder against Lena’s arm, since she’s too short to bump against Lena’s shoulder. “Hey, I think it looks awesome! You totally kicked butt there! You were just like a real superhero!”

Lena smiles, only slightly. “Thanks, Webs.”

A police siren wails, shocking both of them out of their moment. Officer Cabrera and her squad burst into the ice cream parlor, guns out. They arrest Graves and Bigtime, and someone takes the cashier to get a shock blanket. Some of the civilians are around to give witness testimony as well.

And of course, Lena and Webby themselves.

Officer Cabrera sits them down at one of the tables to interview them. Lena feels awkward, still in her blue magic anime getup, but she doesn’t know how to switch back. Officer Cabrera doesn’t comment, only getting the girls’ testimony.

One of the other witnesses is a mom with two little kids (poor kids, only wanted a midday treat and got caught up in an armed robbery) and run by their table. One of the kids, a little pig about four or five, turns wide, shining eyes towards Lena.

“Are you a superhero?” the kid asks.

Lena blinks, her mouth forming a perfect O.

She’s about to say no, to shut this kid down, but something clicks inside her head.

“Yeah,” she says, slowly, hesitantly. “I’m… I’m a superhero.”

The kid’s face lights up and his grin splits his face in two. “Cool!! Mommy! Mommy, did you hear that?! I met a real superhero!!”

The pig smiles tiredly at her child, clutching him to her chest. “Pretty cool, isn’t it?” She eyes Lena, somehow seeing right through her. She smiles approvingly, and Lena can’t help but feel like she’s passed a test somehow. “Congratulations on a successful debut.”

Lena nods stiffly, forcing a smile. “Um. Thanks.”

The family continues on, and Lena blinks and she tries to process what just happened. Webby pokes her in the side, grinning like a maniac. “Superhero, huh?”

“Uh- um.” Lena smooths down her already impeccable suit. “I…”

“Vigilantism is illegal,” Officer Cabrera interrupts sharply and loudly, catching the attention of one of her colleagues. Lena gulps. She hopes she didn’t just accidentally get herself in trouble for a crime she didn’t commit.

But then again… she did sort of act as a superhero, didn’t she? Even if it wasn’t intentional.

“But,” Officer Cabrera raises one finger, her voice significantly lower and her eyes twinkling. “I happen to know from a very good source that even with Darkwing Duck and his apprentices, Gizmoduck is feeling a bit overworked… as a mother, I wouldn’t object to another hero on the scene.”

Officer Cabrera winks and gathers up her things, leaving Lena and Webby at the table.

Lena blinks, baffled. “Did… did that just happen?”

Webby laughs. “I can’t believe you’re a superhero now!”

“Not so loud!” Lena hisses, glancing furitively around the ice cream parlor. “Apparently I could get arrested for it.”

“I don’t think Officer Cabrera would let that happen,” Webby says. She springs to her feet, brushing off her injuries, and tugs on Lena’s arm. “C’mon! You should go talk to Huey. He knows everything there is to know about Gizmoduck.”

“You should go get your injuries checked out,” Lena protests, but Webby brushes her off. “Really, Webby.”

Lena pauses, thinking. “You can’t start training as my partner if you’re injured, can you?”

Webby stops dead in her tracks and slowly turns around, eyes glinting. “Do you mean it?”

“With all my blue magicky heart, Pink,” Lena swears, before she’s crushed in one of Webby’s signature hugs.

“What if we go to one of the doctors at the Bin?” Webby asked, her eyes lighting up with a scheme Lena can’t figure out. She just nods, mentally preparing herself for whatever wholesome scheme Webby has up her sleeve.

One harrowing Launchpad-driven ride later, Webby drags Lena down to the second-to-lowest level, where she insists the doctor check her over in the lab, much to the doctor’s chagrin. And Gyro’s, when he discovers, but for all his snark and moping, he can’t say no to Webby. No one can, Lena muses.

Webby taps away at her phone, and, in suspiciously just the amount of time it takes for a Launchpad-timed ride from the mansion to the bin, Huey and Boyd arrive as well, which only serves to further Gyro’s indignation.

“So!” Fenton pops up next to the table Webby is sitting on. Lena hovers anxiously nearby as the doctor checks Webby over. “What brings you here? I hope you’re staying out of trouble…”

“Pfft,” Lena snorts. “Trouble finds us.”

Webby beams with pride. “It was amazing! There was a robbery at the ice cream parlor, and Lena stopped it with her magic! She was like a real superhero!”

Huey lets out a soft gasp, and Fenton’s eyes light up with understanding. “A superhero, eh?”

“Oh boy,” Lena mutters.

Gyro pokes his head out of his workspace. “I know what you’re thinking, Cabrera. Put that thought back. You already have two apprentices.”

“Two…” Lena blinks, confused, then glances at Huey and Boyd’s barely concealed grins, and a spare of the Gizmoduck armor in the corner. “Oh. Oh!”

“Only if you want to,” Webby chirps, beaming. “But I think you’d be a good superhero.”

“We don’t have a superhero who uses magic,” Huey says. “It could give us a leg up over the criminals.”

“I…” Lena pauses, thinking. “I never expected this.”

“You don’t have to do it,” Fenton says softly. “You don’t have to immediately commit either. It’s a big decision.”

“I think i’ll do that,” Lena says. She’s still a bit baffled by the day’s events.

“You need to,” Gyro adds. “Being a superhero isn’t just a flashy title. It’s actual work.”

“That’s right, Dr. Gearloose!” Boyd chirps, and Gyro smiles softly.

Boyd turns to her. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Boyd, a definitely real boy!”

Lena takes his hand gingerly. “Mmm, Lena.”

“Nice to meet you, Lena!” Boyd says, and Lena smiles ever so slightly.

“First day on the job,” Fenton beams proudly, patting Lena on the shoulder. It’s a paternal gesture, and it’s awkward, but Lena appreciates the gesture. She’s a little nervous, but she doesn’t want to show it.

“We’re just doing a patrol,” Huey tells her again, gliding along in his Gizmobuddy suit. “It’s most likely that nothing will happen, but it’s a good chance for you to get a layout of the city from above.”

“I know,” Lena sighs back, trying not to sound too annoyed. “You told me when Dad and Pops dropped me off at the mansion. And on the limo ride to the Money Bin. And while you were getting suited up. And-”

“Okay, okay, I think he gets the point,” Fenton interjects, chuckling softly.

They fall into silence after that. Lena hesitantly shoots a jet of her magic to propel her from one roof to the next. Against the muted greys of the night, it’s so bright it nearly hurts her eyes.

“Your magic isn’t very conspicuous,” Huey notes. “Is there a way we can mask it for stealth missions?”

“Once I master activating and deactivating it, I can use my normal outfit,” Lena sighs. “Whenever that is.”

“Oh, you’ll get it. All it takes is practice!” Boyd chirps, and Lena shoots him a smile.

“To form an educated hypothesis, I would need to know more about the inner workings of your magic,” Fenton muses. “Where did it come from?”

Lena rubs the edge of her sleeve. “Um… my evil shadow aunt. And Webby.”

Fenton looks up, interested, and waits for her to continue.

Lena sighs, half for the drama of it all. “Magica created me when she lost her duel with Scrooge for revenge, yadda yadda yadda, she sent me back to the Shadow Realm but Webby absorbed some of my innate magic in her friendship bracelet and she and Violet brought me back, and now I don’t need Magica’s amulet to control my powers. Except now she has it, which is a problem.”

“So we should be on the lookout for her,” Fenton muses. “I’ll tell Dra- Darkwing.”

“Nice save,” Huey whispers. Lena fights the urge to facepalm.

“That… sounds really similar,” Boyd says softly, half to himself. Lena startles.

“Huh?” I… I don’t know if there’s anyone in a situation like mine.

“Well… Dr. Gearloose created me, but he was still an intern under Dr. Akita, who turned me into an attack drone to destroy Tokyolk. But Huey helped me find my true programming, and Dr. Gearloose believed in me so I could find myself again!”

“I… huh,” Lena says, stunned. “I really didn’t think there was anyone like me, but I guess I was wrong.”

She blinks at Boyd, thinking. “I guess that makes me… a definitely real girl.”

Boyd’s smile is wide enough to split his entire face in two. Lena takes a mental snapshot of that image and tucks it somewhere close to her heart. She doesn’t see it, but Huey and Fenton are brimming with pride and exchange grins as well.

They don’t find anything on that patrol. A part of Lena is disappointed at the lack of danger, but she’s honestly fine with it. The Lena from a couple years ago would have been mad, but Lena’s mellowed out with love and stability.

It’s not a bad thing.

She continues her weekly patrols with Huey, Boyd, and Fenton, and sometimes Darkwing Duck, although he likes to stay in St. Canard more than Duckburg. Launchpad comes with him. Once the famed Duck Avenger joined them as well, though he was as mysterious as the legends say, and didn’t stay long, citing an Evorian sighting across town. Whatever that was.

This new routine is… nice. It’s a good way for Lena to practice and control her new powers without disturbing her family or breaking any sentimental heirlooms. Boyd has wormed his way into her heart, that little weasel, and Fenton is growing on her too. And of course Huey’s like another brother to her. She’s not sure how she gained four brothers with the inclusion of Boyd Lena’s not complaining.

But of course, all good things must come to an end.

This one comes on a sunny September day. A little too bright for Lena’s tastes, but it masks her bright magic well, and she rather likes not being stared at while she tries to jump between buildings.

“Lena!” Huey hisses in her ear. Gyro, despite his expressive distaste at heroism, had caved and built them all communication devices. Of course, this was only after Fenton said he would.

“What is it?” Lena hisses back, instantly on alert. Suddenly, one of Gizmoduck’s trademark pies slices through the air. Lena sighs and lifts herself in the air with her magic, preparing to fly over.

“We’re being attacked! Over by the-”

“The market on 32nd street?” Lena interrupts.

“How’d you know?” Huey questions over the comms.

“The pies make for a pretty good homing beacon,” Lena deadpans. Huey hums in response, like he’s actually considering it.

Lena takes a deep breath, summons her magic, and flies over. She tries to not attract too much attention to herself, but there are still a few people who turn and stare, gawking at the girl flying through the air, surrounded in a blue glow. But they turned away after a minute. It’s Duckburg, after all - weirder stuff happens every day.

(Besides, the superhero cults on duckblr had already recognized her, dubbing her the “Spellcaster”. Webby wants a cooler, more splashy name, but it works for Lena. Splashy and bright has never really been her style, even as the Spellcaster.)

Lena soars over the last row of buildings and glides to a slightly undignified landing beside Huey. Tires squeal as the villain of the week blows Gizmoduck back in line with them, and the three superheroes take a minute to breathe and reassess the situation.

“This might be a bit much,” Fenton hisses out of the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay if you want to to take a rain check on your first fight. Especially since Wingy’s not here.”

Lena rolls her eyes and cracks her knuckles. “I’ll be fine.”

“So!” The villain booms, snatching the heroes’ attention away from each other and back to her. “I see a new challenger has arrived. Care to dance?”

Lena squints at the villain. She glides seamlessly across the street, hovering about three feet above the ground. Her long cloak flutters behind her in a manufactured breeze, and so do her fashionably long sleeves.

“She has some sort of control over the winds,” Huey muses.

“If it’s rooted in robotics or technology, I can’t see it,” Fenton says.

The villain clasps her hands together, playing at humility. “Why, it’s just so nice of you to grace me with your presence! I simply can’t believe I have the honor of meeting Gizmoduck and Gizmobuddy! And the Spellcaster! Is that what you’re called, dear?”

Lena shrugs. “Works for me.”

“It’s nice to finally see you in person, dear,” the villain purrs. “Although, there’s just one thing that puzzles me… Why would Magica de Spell’s shadow, created for the sole purpose of doing her evil bidding, be fighting with the heroes? You don’t seem very heroic.”

She smirks at the shock on the three heroes’ faces. “I do my research, hon. You’ve caused quite the buzz around this city, didn’t you know? It’s not every day a pretty new hero pops up in Duckburg.”

Shock and fury flares in Lena’s stomach, and she clenches her fists. Blue magic flares around them, flickering like a fire, before solidifying as Lena’s frustration and idnignation grows and settles like a pit in her stomach.

“Hey! Knock it off!” Huey snaps. “That’s petty and rude.”

“Le-” Fenton coughs and clears his throat at Huey’s pointed glare. “The Spellcaster is her own person, acting of her own volition. I can attest to her good intentions.”

Fenton and Huey are quick to jump to her defense, and Lena appreciates that. But this is her fight now.

Lena takes a deep breath and steps forward, holding out a hand to stop Huey and Fenton. They mutter in protest, trying in vain to stop her from doing something stupid.

Lena allows herself to smirk, ever so slightly. It’s only stupid if you get caught.

“I am the Spellcaster,” she announces. “I am not defined by the people that wanted to shape me. I shape myself. I do what I want to do, not what anyone else wants me to.”

Lena reaches out for more magic, feeling it tug at her gut. There’s a subtle push and pull, like the harmony of the tide, and then blue light surrounds her flippers. She turns her face to the sky, and rises, not looking down. Never looking down.

(She makes sure to fly just a little bit higher than the wind villain. She’s still petty.)

“My magic is mine to use, and I’m choosing to use it to protect people,” Lena snaps. “People like you. People like her.”

The villain blinks. She clearly wasn’t expecting that.

Lena smirks and takes the moment of surprise to blast the villain in the face with a satisfying bolt of magic.

Huey and Fenton take the hint and leap into battle, and it’s over quickly. They’re all a little mad and vindictive. Lena gets a special sense of satisfaction when she summons a magic casing around her fist and knocks the villain out cold onto the concrete. She stands up, dusting off her hands.

“I already notified M- the police,” Fenton informs her. “They’ll be here any minute. How are you feeling?”

Lena tucks her shaking hands behind her back. Fenton raises an eyebrow behind the visor. “Fine.”

“That was… a lot,” Huey says eloquently, tucking his cellphone into a metal pocket of his suit. “Even for a normal villain fight. You had to deal with that on your first run. It’s okay to not be okay, Lena.”

“It hasn’t really set in, honestly,” Lena says, biting her lip. She’s not used to being this open about her feelings, but it feels wrong to hide behind her easy defense of prickly teenager. “But kicking her butt felt nice.”

Huey laughs and holds up his hand for a high five, which Lena gladly takes. “It sure did!”

“Wingy can probably give you some tips on dealing with a personal villain later, too,” Fenton says. “But for now, let’s get back to the Bin. I’ll expect Scrooge will want to hear about this, and Gyro and I can work on some kind of tech that can combat her wind powers.”

Lena bites her lip. “Does Scrooge really have to know about this? It might cement his idea that magic is bad, and that this is a bad idea.”

“Uncle Scrooge isn’t stupid,” Huey says bluntly. “He’ll know this wasn’t your fault. And if not, I’ll make sure of it.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Lena replies. “Uncle Scrooge has it in his head that I’m the exception to his ‘magic is evil’ rule. I just… magic can be good, too, and I wish he could see that.”

Fenton pats her on the shoulder, albeit a bit awkwardly. “He will one day.”

“We’ve made a lot of progress in the past few months!” Huey adds. Lena can’t disagree.

The police cars pull up just about then. Lena spots Officer Cabrera exit the nearest one, and she gives Lena a nod of approval.

“Ready to go?” Fenton asks, and they rise into the air and begin their flight towards the Money Bin.

“Hey Fenton?” Huey asks.

Fenton smiles bemusedly. “Yes, you and Boyd can help Gyro and I with the counter to the villain’s wind powers.”

Huey’s eyes light up at that, and Lena chuckles fondly. It doesn’t settle her nerves.

They arrive at the Money Bin and meet up with the Bin’s doctor for a quick checkup, and then the rest of Team Science and Scrooge himself. Boyd arrives shortly after, and starts chattering endlessly with Huey while Team Science and Scrooge review footage of the fight from the Gizmosuit’s internal camera. They all cringe when the villain mentions Magica, and Gyro gives her a pat that is somehow more awkward than Fenton’s.

Science nerds, Lena snorts internally.

“Are you… okay, lass?” Scrooge questions, adjusting his spectacles. “She didn’t pull her punches.”

“Yeah.” Lena gives Scrooge a small, shaky smile. “I’m okay.”

He folds her into a hug, and she buries her face in his coat. It’s still awkward, but it feels nice. She appreciates the sentiment.

They talk strategy for a bit and break off after that. Team Science brainstorms ideas for a defense strategy, and Scrooge returns to his work. Lena calls her parents, shying away from their incessant worry, and waits for Ty and Indy to pick her up.

She’d help Team Science, but she was never good with calculations and robotics, so Lena sits on the steps on the outskirts of the lab. She fiddles with her phone, but can’t focus enough to do much of anything.

After the fourth round of cycling through her regular social media apps and not opening anything, Lena startles at the sound of soft, clinking footsteps. Boyd sits down next to her, almost hesitant.

“Hey,” Lena greets, clicking off her phone. She almost slides it into her pocket, but it’s comforting to have something to hold. Without it, her hands would flutter and hover, awkward and nervous. “What’s up?”

“I… I liked. What you said.” Boyd says, haltingly. Lena’s worry pricks. It’s not like him. “To the villain, I mean. About being your own person and choosing how you use your powers. It really resonated with me.“

“Oh. Um, thanks.” Lena replies. “It wasn’t really a grand, scripted gesture. I was just saying what I felt.”

Boyd smiles at her. “That makes it more meaningful, I think.”

Lena smiles back, for real this time. “Thanks.”

They sit in silence for a little bit, until the Sabrewings come to pick Lena up. Violet, Huey, and Boyd chat for a minute, exchanging theories and information, and Ty and Indy exchange pleasantries with the adults.

Lena sits by herself and thinks. She glances down at her hand and summons a small ball of magic. Blue, not purple. As far from Magica as she could get.

She glances up at Boyd, chattering excitedly with Huey and Violet. He didn’t have an outfit change, but from his demeanor and personality alone, Lena physically cannot picture him wrecking a city the way he did.

Ty, Indy, and Violet say their goodbyes and come to get Lena. Ty and Indy tug her into hugs.

Violet says nothing, but as they walk out, she subtly reaches down and clasps one of Lena’s hands in hers. The friendship bracelets Webby made for them brush together, and Lena spots a stray spark of brilliant blue flash between them. Lena clutches Violet’s hand a little tighter.

This is where her magic comes from. Not Magica, not any dark, evil force, but friendship and goodness. People who genuinely care about her, not people that want to use her to further their own agenda.

And it’s Lena’s choice to decide what she wants to use it for. It’s all Lena in control, not Magica, not anyone else.

This is what recovery looks like. This is what happiness looks like.

Lena brushes a little closer to Violet and lets their bracelets light up, illuminating their path into the night.

bruh i was gonna finish this on monday and it was going to be way shorter but rip to that i guess lolololol

this definitely ended up diving into more au territory than i meant it to but i really like how it turned out!! i’m so proud of lena and her growth. she deserves all the love in the world.

originally the mom that lena met in the ice cream parlor was supposed to be the villain, but when i was writing the fight scene i figured it didn’t really fit. i think it’s nicer that lena has regular people on her side anyway.

accidental superhero canon compliant lena au ftw!! i definitely want to do more with this au. i think it fits lena’s growth and arc really well and it’s an amazing juxtaposition to what she used to do under magica. i definitely want to write at least a companion piece in the future that’s more focused on the au rather than lena’s growth after this episode. like partner!webby? it’ll probably get into that, too. superhero webby is my jam!

i also love lena and boyd’s dynamic so so much. they are 100% siblings in my mind and i can and will write them resonating with each other at every opportunity.

title is a lyric from helicopter by clc! i almost used a different lyric but it didn’t fit as well, so maybe i’ll use that one for the companion fic

def want to talk about and flesh out this au a little more, so hmu if you’re curious about it!! asks about any of my aus or fics make my day tbh

#ducktales #ducktales 2017 #dt17 #lena sabrewing #fenton crackshell-cabrera #huey duck #boyd gearloose #webby vanderquack #dewey duck #scrooge mcduck #ducktales fanfiction #wavey writes #the phantom and the sorceress

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quillreflections · 4 years

Text

Title: Electric Blue

Chapter: 6

Series: Yugioh GX

Pairing: Chazz/reader

Are you hiding, somewhere behind those eyes?

"Man, if you ever wonder why everyone calls you a Slifer slacker, behavior like this is exactly-"

"Aw, shut up! You're having fun." Jaden grins at Chazz before turning back to face the wall. "I know we can totally get up there, but we'll have to jump-"

"I don't wanna jump, I wanna go to class. But now I can't go to class because we're late and, for whatever stupid reason, the penalties for that are worse than missing entirely." Chazz huffs, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at the other boy.

Jaden isn't listening.

The Slifer student hauls a chair over from the empty outdoor café, testing to make sure it'll hold his weight before climbing up on it. Then he stretches, reaching for the top of the overhang; when he can't reach it, he gives a careful hop, then hops again and finally latches onto the roof. He scrambles up and turns around to grin again. "See, it's easy! C'mon, even you can do it."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Chazz, as always, takes it as a personal challenge. In a smooth motion, he mimics Jaden's actions, climbing onto the chair and hauling himself onto the low-hanging school roof. He brushes himself off as he stands to his full height. "So. . . what are we even doing up here?"

Jaden shrugs absently, but a voice echoes out behind him. "I could ask the same thing, gentlemen."

The boys turn, and you're standing on another overhang, part of the school's odd multi-level design. You smile at them, and Chazz starts blushing and stuttering, but Jaden waves happily.

"Heya, [Name]! What're you doing up here?"

"Totally skipping class, honestly." You sit down on the edge of the roof. "I'm up here rearranging my deck; I figured if I skipped class and stayed in the dorm, they'd send someone looking for me."

The boys make their way over and scramble up onto the next overhang, Chazz hurrying to sit at your side before Jaden gets the chance. "Why would you be deck arranging up here though?"

You shrug, only wondering for a moment if you should tell them. You lower your voice, and they have to lean in closer to hear you whisper.

"I'm telling y'all this because we're friends, okay? So you can't tell anyone else, or let it slip."

They both nod, but inside, Chazz's pulse has started pounding. He has yet to adjust to being called a friend- the sound of his excited heart in his ears almost drowned out your whispering voice.

"I've got a big duel up tonight." You sit up straight with a smug huff. It takes them a moment to realize.

"A duel. . . tonight? Like, after-hours? Isn't that against the rules?" A frown twitches onto Chazz's face, but Jaden socks him in the arm.

"Don't act like you never challenged me after hours!" He laughs and looks back to you. "Don't worry, [Name], we won't tell. We've probably done a lot worse than that."

Back from where Chazz and Jaden had crawled onto the roof, something scrapes against the metal, and you all freeze. You're supposed to be in class- for a long, tense moment, all you can hear is clattering and huffing. Then a small voice floats up from the ground.

"Jaden! I know you're up there, I saw you climbing!"

You all sigh, and Jaden wanders back closer to the edge, leaning over to smile at Syrus. The smaller boy had pulled another chair from the patio tables, but still wasn't able to climb up to see his friends. He pouts.

"Jaden! You promised that if I missed class with you, you'd use that time to finish your homework! Get down here so we can study!"

Jaden sighs, but he turns back to you and Chazz with a wave and a "See ya later!" before leaping from the roof, landing on his feet and following Syrus back to the dorms.

Now it's just you and Chazz.

Your fellow Obelisk Blue student sits quietly for a bit; you're very aware of his eyes on you as you return to adjusting your deck. You frown at the cards in your hand- the one specific card you feel would be perfect for this duel happens to be the one card you've been wanting forever. Chazz notices the odd look cross your face, and he leans over your shoulder to look at your cards too.

"Can I ask what your duel tonight's even about?" He rests his chin in the palm of his hand. "I don't mean'ta sound like I don't think highly of you or anything, but you just. . . don't seem the type."

He definitely notices how you blush when you turn to look at him.

"It's really stupid, honestly- you'll laugh."

Chazz shrugs. "Fine, don't tell me. Not like I care or anything." He almost bites his tongue at that- the hell is he doing, saying he doesn't care. He totally cares. He cares too much for the one person who's treated him like a person of his own. Swallowing nervously, he shifts to sit across from you, pulling his own deck from his belt. "Duel me."

You look up from your cards, confused. "You mean like, here and now?"

"Yeah! An old-fashioned tabletop game, like how they used to play. Unless," he lowers his voice and leans forward, "you wanna try'n snag a duel field while we're supposed to be in class."

You chuckle at him, restacking your cards and starting to shuffle. "A low-tech game sounds fun. You're on!"

A smirk crosses Chazz's lips. "Loser buys dinner on the mainland?"

You grin back at him. "Y'know, I was gonna go easy on ya, but now I've just gotta kick your ass."

☆☆☆☆☆

Chazz's steel eyes roam the field, examining your setup. He's only an attack away from winning, but your back row could be a problem- he frowns at the cards in his hand, and you watch intently as he seems to make a choice. Your fingers start inching towards one of your facedowns; knowing this boy, he'll probably use a-

"Hey! You there! What do you think you're doing?!"

Your blood runs cold, and across from you, Chazz blanches. You lean carefully over the edge of the roof- Professor Crowler is standing there with his hands on his hips, teeth grit, face turning red. "You've missed two class periods, in addition to accessing prohibited parts of campus- get down here this instant! And bring whoever's with you, too!"

You sigh, gathering your cards, glancing up at Chazz as he shoves his back into his deckbox too. "I was gonna win, y'know."

He sneers back at you. "Not with my Ring of Destruction, you weren't."

He hauls himself off the roof first, landing in front of the astonished professor. "Mister Princeton-? What are you-?"

Chazz ignores the man, turning back to you and holding his arms out. "Jump. I'll catch you." You hesitate for a moment- you are in your uniform, after all, and that skirt's kinda short- but then you kick your legs over the side of the overhang and jump.

True to his word, Chazz catches you; his arms are unexpectedly strong when they wrap around your waist, giving you a moment to catch your bearings before he sets you down, and you both turn to face your professor. Chazz keeps one arm around your waist, holding you kinda close.

Crowler glares. "Princeton, I expected much better from you- you're one of the most promising students we have here, and I'd hate to see you waste that potential. But since we owe your family some favors, I suppose I can let this slide." His eyes narrow as he turns to you. "However, Miss [Name], you are not nearly as lucky. I should have you put on cleaning duty for a-"

"She was only up there because of me, alright?!" Chazz bites out. "I asked her to skip with me. She didn't even really want to." His grip on you tightens a bit, and he glares back at Crowler. "You can't punish her for this without punishing me."

Professor Crowler huffs, going silent for a moment. ". . . [Name], since you've been such a good student prior to this, I suppose I'll let it slide for you as well. If either of you repeats this offense, you won't be off nearly as lightly next time. Now get to class." And with that, he strides off, muttering under his breath.

You turn to Chazz as he finally lets go of you. He sniffs. "The guy's a weirdo."

"You didn't have to do that, y'know."

Chazz rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, trying not to blush. "Hey, if you got in trouble, you couldn't make your duel tonight. But ya know. . ." a sly grin crosses his face, and he bats his eyes at you. "I think, for saving your butt, I deserve a nice dinner."

You laugh, shoving him playfully, and he grins at you. "First the cake, then a dinner- you don't need all these excuses, Chazz. Just ask!"

His demeanor suddenly shifts, and all the air rushes out of your lungs at how serious he got so quickly. "Alright then, [Name]." His voice is low, and there's something in it you don't recognize. "Would you go to dinner with m-"

"[Name]! Chazz!" A loud voice echoes out from behind you, and so much frustration bubbles up in Chazz's chest that he feels like he might cry. Jaden is racing towards you both, Syrus not far behind- when the two Slifer students are within reach, Jaden grabs you by the arm and pulls. "We've gotta get to class before Crowler comes back-!"

Chazz bites his tongue as he lets Syrus push him towards the classroom you all shared for this period.

Maybe it was too soon to ask anyways.

#electric blue #chazz princeton #yugioh #gx

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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Sixty-Two: Tie-Dye ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Mikoto, Hyūga Hanako, Hyūga Hiashi, Uzumaki Kushina ] [ SasuHina, divorce, pregnancy ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

“Mooom, I got somethin’ for ya.”

Looking up from some paperwork on the dining room table, Mikoto accepts a manilla envelope from her son. “Oh? What’s this?”

“Teacher gave it to me.”

Adjusting her reading glasses, the mother doesn’t see any writing on the outside, instead pulling open the top and reading a few papers inside. “...oh! Seems like your kindergarten class is having a Spring festival of sorts!”

“Festival…?”

“Mhm.” Pulling Sasuke atop her knee, Mikoto points a finger, reading along out loud. “We are pleased to announce the fourth annual Spring Fling festival for Konoha Kindergarten. Join us this Saturday for games, activities, snacks, and fun! Parents are encouraged to attend alongside their children to help monitor the booths and enjoy themselves, too. Tickets are five dollars.” She gives her son a glance. “What do you think, Sasuke? Want to go?”

The boy’s brow wilts a bit, thinking. It’s no secret he’s a little bit shy, but...it does sound like fun. Especially if his mom gets to go! “Is it okay…?”

“I think it’s a great idea! So, it’s settled: we’ll go. It’ll be fun!” Smiling, she sets the papers aside and hugs the boy, digging her fingers a bit into his sides to earn a slew of giggles.

In all honesty, she’s glad for the distraction. The last few months have been...difficult, to say the least. Divorcing her husband and moving across town hasn’t been easy...on her, or her kids. Hopefully some good ol’ fashioned fun and games will help Sasuke cheer up. The poor boy’s been so quiet…

“Can Itachi go with us?”

“Hm...I don’t see why not. He’s not a parent, but...he is your big brother! I’m sure no one will mind.” It didn’t say anything about siblings, but Itachi’s a good kid - maybe he can help keep a few little ones in line to earn his place.

“Okay…!”

Once he goes back to school the next day, everyone’s abuzz about the festival. Even the teachers seem excited!

“Sasukeee!”

Turning to a familiar voice, Sasuke manages a hint of a smile. “Hi Naruto.”

“Hey, hey! Are you going on Saturday?”

“Yeah, my mom said I could go.”

“Awesome! I’m gonna kick your butt in all the games!”

Sasuke doesn’t reply - he’s not really going for any kind of competition...he just wants to have fun.

Several other classmates agree that they’re attending too, everyone talking about their parents staying or not. “My mom’s gonna be there!” Naruto crows.

“My mom and dad too!” Sakura, another well-known face agrees.

“Mhm!”

What about you, Hinata?”

“Y...yeah! M-my mom will be there!”

“Isn’t she gonna have a baby soon?”

Something falters in the girl’s expression. “Y...yes! At...at the end of the month.”

Something about her reply earns a curious glance from Sasuke, even as everyone else keeps talking. Not really invested anymore anyway, he moves to sit beside her. “Is the baby okay?”

Clearly a bit startled at being addressed again, it takes Hinata a moment to reply. “Y...yes. It’s okay. Um…” Her head ducks. “...my mom and dad don’t...d-don’t want to live together anymore.”

“Oh...mine neither.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah…” He doesn’t elaborate, the subject still a little sore.

“Oh...I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

After a pause, Hinata goes on. “...Dad wants the baby to stay with him, and for me to stay with Mom. It means a l-lot of fighting…”

That sounds eerily familiar. “...my dad wanted my brother, too. But Mom said no, so...he came with us.”

“...Mom said no too, but -”

It’s then the bell rings, and everyone starts filing in for class. Glancing up, Sasuke gives her one last look before doing the same. Part of him can’t help but see Hinata in a new light, knowing what he knows now. There’s not a lot of kids like him: kids with only one parent. There’s Naruto, whose father died when he was very young...but everyone else seems to have a whole family.

...in a way...he almost feels a little closer to her somehow.

After that, it’s just a matter of waiting for the weekend...which, even more so than usual, seems to take forever to arrive. But after the slowest week ever, it’s finally Saturday!

Mikoto drives her boys to the kindergarten, parking near Kushina’s familiar vehicle before letting them disembark. “Are you guys excited?”

“Yeah!”

Itachi smiles at his brother as they walk toward the front door where tickets are being sold. “Ready to play some games?”

“Mhm! Will you play some with me?”

“We’ll see.”

The trio are let in, going into the back open play yard where booths of all kinds are set up. Games, activities, and even places to get snacks! Already the grass is full of kids running amok and parents keeping an eye on things.

“What should we do first, Sasuke?”

Still looking it all over in a bit of awe, he pauses as he spots Hinata. Beside her is a woman who looks just like her, her tummy looking close to bursting! It seems they’re...making shirts? “...this one!”

The little family make their way over, and Mikoto says hello. “I’m Mikoto! My son Sasuke is in Hinata’s class, I believe.”

Smiling tiredly, the other woman nods. “Yes, she mentioned him! I’m Hanako - it’s so nice to meet you.”

“Likewise!” Though she smiles, something in the Uchiha mother’s expression falters, seeing the state of her new companion. The shadows under her eyes are dark, frame thin...but looking newly so. It’s a look she recognizes herself.

In the meantime, the kids get to know each other. Hinata nods shyly to Itachi. “So, what do we do here?” Sasuke asks.

“It...i-it’s a place to make funny shirts! Tie...dye?”

Huh...he’s never heard of that before. “...cool!”

Once a group has gathered, they get to work. The instructor shows them how to fold and twist and tuck their soon-to-be tie-dye shirts. Sasuke picks a dark blue color, Hinata a pale purple, and Itachi a red. They all make their shirts into different shapes before dunking them in the water. And now...to wait!

They all peer into the buckets, poking the fabric a bit. “...is it really gonna make a pattern…? How’s it do that, Itachi?”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

Nearby, Kushina’s now joined the group, talking to both Mikoto and Hanako as Naruto clings to a hand. The latter looks worried, a hand on her middle, while the other two speak in hushed tones. Sasuke watches for a moment before glancing to Hinata, who does the same. Both can’t help concerned expressions as Itachi puts a hand on each of their shoulders.

And then...things get worse.

“Hanako!”

The Hyūga woman flinches, and the voice draws her companions’ gazes. Ducking away, Naruto joins his friends. “Hey...what’s going -?”

Itachi silences him with a gesture, his own face tense.

Across the yard, a man strides forward, drawing gazes with both voice and movement. But before he can reach his wife, Kushina and Mikoto step in front of her.

“You’re making a scene,” the latter warns in a hushed tone.

“Get out of my way -”

“If it’s a scene you want, it’s a scene you can have,” Kushina cuts in, rolling up her sleeves despite Mikoto’s warning.

Hanako tenses, taking half a step back. It prompts Hinata to step up, clinging to her mother.

The move isn’t missed by Hiashi, who looks down his nose at her.

“This is the last place you need to start something,” the redhead tries again. “Nothing’s final - she can be here if she damn well pleases. If she doesn’t want you here, you should leave.”

Watching nervously, Sasuke eventually glances to Naruto...who nods, thinking the same thing. The pair move as one up in front of Hinata, mimicking their mothers with folded arms and scowls.

“Is there a problem?” their teacher cuts in, approaching cautiously.

“...no,” Hiashi mutters, seeing he’s outnumbered. “I was merely checking in on my wife. She’s quite far along, and I...didn’t want anything happening to the child.”

“I can assure you, this is all meant to be calm and fun, sir. She’ll be just fine.”

He lingers a moment more, eyes flickering between all the women before conceding. “Come straight home,” he orders as he turns his back, marching back toward the doors.

The tension lingers until he disappears, and even then it’s slow to break. The mothers turn to Hanako, somber understanding in their eyes. In tandem, Naruto and Sasuke do the same.

“You okay, Hinata?” Sasuke asks softly.

She doesn’t reply, still attached to her mother.

The little group lingers quietly until the booth runner announces that the shirts are done. They’re rinsed, and then unfurled to reveal the dye job.

“Whoa!” Sasuke’s is a perfect swirl of blue and white. His brother’s, red, almost looks like fire spread randomly over the fabric. And Hinata’s lilac shirt is peppered with little starbursts of white.

“That turned out so pretty!” Sasuke compliments, seeing her hold it up.

“T...thanks.”

“I wanna try!” Naruto demands, tugging on his mother’s hand. “Can we make an orange one? Can we, can we?”

“Sure, sure!”

“- with us if you want.”

Perking at his mother’s voice, Sasuke glances over to see her still talking with Hanako.

“No...I need to go home. He...he won’t do anything bad. It’s just so uncomfortable there while things are in the process…”

“Believe me, I know...I just got through it myself. If you need anything, you have my number. Any time.”

“Thank you, Mikoto...you and Kushina both. I just...want this all to be over. The pregnancy, the divorce...I want to put this all behind me.”

“You will. You’re so strong. Any time you want Hinata looked after, just tell me - she can come stay with us for a while. It’s clear they get along.”

“...Mom?”

Looking over, Mikoto puts a smile on. “Oh, look! That turned out wonderful! What do you say - wanna try some games?”

“Okay.”

“We’ll all go together! Let’s see what we can do next.”

As the adults scope things out, Sasuke keeps near Hinata, still feeling rather protective. “...you okay?”

“...mhm…”

“I really like your shirt.”

“M-me too.” She manages just a hint of a smile, and Sasuke smiles back.

“Don’t worry, Hinata. My mom and Naruto’s mom will help your mom! And we’ll help you, too.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Naruto agrees, popping back up on her other side. “Cuz we’re all friends now!”

There’s a pause, Hinata looking at a loss before softening. “...mhm…”

“And we’ll all have matching shirts,” Sasuke adds, grinning. “The tie-dye squad!”

As the other two agree, Itachi chuckles softly behind them.

This got a lil long, but also feels a little rushed...it's a bigger idea than I have time for sadly, so...here's a slightly abridged version. Maybe I'll do a fuller one someday when I have more time! Anyway, this got...a lot heavier than I intended. But I wrote it in tandem with some RP plotting in the same vein, so...it just kinda...happened. But I do like the premise - add it to my ever-growing pile of projects that need expansion, aha~ But yeah, that's all for tonight, and early(ish) for once, woo! Thanks for reading, and see y'all tomorrow~

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #uchiha mikoto #uchiha itachi #hyūga hinata #hyūga hanako #hyūga hiashi #uzumaki kushina #uzumaki naruto #divorce //#pregnancy //#best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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daebakinc · 6 years

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Pennies and Dimes

Pairing: Minhyuk x Reader Genre: Fluff, Kindergarten Teacher Minhyuk AU Word Count: 4.2K Summary: Your surprise knight in shining armor turns up at a kissing booth.

The instant Hani leaves you at the picnic table alone to find the bathrooms, he pounces.

“Hey, long time no see,” Greg says as he slips onto the bench opposite you, his disarmingly charming smile already in place.

So too is every single hair on his head and every thread of his clothes. You’d think he’d dress down for a primary school carnival, but Greg is still dressed to the nines. Everyone else got the memo for a dress code of jeans and t-shirts and floating summer dresses like the one you’re wearing. Yet here he is in khakis and a pastel polo. An almost carbon copy of what he wore in his profile picture. Really, that should’ve keyed you in before the first date. Why he was here, you have no idea, but you really wish he wasn’t.

“Hello, Greg,” you reply, your tone painfully civil. Only the manners your mother ensured were ingrained in your very soul keep you from just walking away. Sometimes you wish she hadn’t raised such a lady. This jerk is no gentleman.

“It’s been two weeks since our date.”

“I am well aware.”

“You never called me back.”

“I thought my text was sufficient in indicating I didn’t want a second date.”

“It was a good starting serve, but you didn’t follow up. Not a good way to keep me interested in the game,” Greg smirks.

What the hell is taking Hani so long? Biting back a few choice words, you retort, “I think your giving the waitress your number after ogling her assets all night was end game enough.”

He has enough courtesy to look a little embarrassed, but any good feelings towards him that might have been restored immediately go right back out the window when he reaches across the table to grab your hand. “Maybe I was looking where I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I’m a man with eyes. And I didn’t give her my number. It was just a little scribble thanking her for her excellent service.”

You nearly choke on the bark of laughter you hold in. This guy really has some balls. He hadn’t even tried to be subtle. Not to mention you can read upside down and that heart he’d put around his number was big enough to see from the moon. “Let go of my hand, please.”

“Come on, one more date. Just promise me one more and I’ll let go.” With a starry-eyed look he’s clearly practiced in the mirror like a B-movie love interest, he adds, “I think we have a real connection.”

“The only connection we’re going to have is my foot connecting with your shin if you don’t get your hands off me.”

Instead, Greg’s grip tightens, and he leans in, uncomfortably close. “You’re so sexy when you’re playing hard to get. Give me one more chance and I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.”

Someone’s watched ‘The Notebook’ too many times. Haven’t men learned that being this pushy is no longer appreciated, if it ever was, nor is it acceptable in today’s world. That is unless they want a restraining order slapped across their too touchy palms.

“I said,” you reply frostily, in vainly trying to pull your hand away, “let go.”

Finally, a scowl breaks his perfect image. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not hurting you.”

Well, you did warn him. You sigh, already regretting making a scene at a children’s event, but he’s leaving no choice by ignoring your politer requests. Maybe the happy screams of children on rides, the hawking of vendors, and ringing of games’ winning bells will mask his yelp of pain. Just as you’re rearing back your leg as best you can, a warm arm slips around your shoulder and someone’s hip bumps into yours as they slide beside you.

“There you are, babe!” the man exclaims, pulling you against his chest with one arm and successfully breaking Greg’s hold on you. With your body stiff with confusion against his, he whispers, “Just act natural and we’ll get rid of this guy, okay? Trust me.”

At first, you can only think how good your strange knight smells, your face pressed into his neck. When his words register, you nod your head. This man can’t be any worse than the one you’re trying to escape.

The stranger’s breath ghosts across your cheek in a phantom kiss before he eases away from you. Keeping the arm on your shoulder in place, he shakes a playful finger at you while sporting a puppy pout. “How could you leave your Minhyukie hanging like that? You told me to meet you by the bumper cars ages ago! I got so bored waiting by myself with no one to play with.”

His childish tone has a cringe-worthy level of syrup, but his theatrics and clever way of telling you his name has you giggling rather than wincing. Jutting your own lip out and clasping your hands, you saturate your own voice with the same baby sweetness, “_____’s sorry, Minhyukie. Hani had to go to the bathroom and I was going to come find you right after, promise.”

Minhyuk laughs. His mouth stretches in a wide grin as he tucks an invisible hair behind your ear. “Ah, how could I stay mad at you, sweetheart? I just missed my baby so much I thought I was going to die!” He glances over at a stiff Greg and starts as if noticing him for the first time. “I’m sorry, did I interrupt a conversation with your friend? I don’t think we’ve met?”

“No. He’s just a guy I went on a date with once.” You lightly poke Minhyuk’s chest with a finger. “That was before I met you of course, baby. He just stopped by to say ‘hi’ when he saw me.”

“How nice of him.” Minhyuk squeezes your shoulder and smiles at Greg. “I suppose I ought to thank you then.”

The increasingly sour look on Greg face drops into a mystified one. “Thank me?”

“Sure. If you hadn’t somehow screwed up, I wouldn’t have had a chance with this beautiful lady. So, thanks, man.”

Minhyuk sticks out his free hand towards Greg with the most guileless smile. Greg’s face turns an ugly shade of red. Mumbling something, he shoves away from the table and disappears into the crowd.

Minhyuk waits until there’s no sign of Greg before he drops his arm from your shoulder and shifts a respectable distance away. Foolishly, you instantly miss his weight and warmth. Then, you catch yourself. You’re not the type to swoon easily. You’re too old for that.

“Where the hell did you find that guy?” Minhyuk snorts, still watching the crowd. “Did he leave his fedora at home this time? I thought they were permanently attached to guys like that’s heads.”

Without thinking, you dryly retort, “Trust me, they had to perform surgery in the doorway of the restaurant on our date to get it off. Very messy but it was too late. The douche venom had already leaked into his brain. The effects were irreversible.”

Minhyuk stares at you for a full second before collapsing onto the table, his shoulders shaking with full belly laughs. You can’t help laughing along, his amusement as catching as a winter bug.

“That delivery,” he finally manages, sitting up and wiping at his eyes. “Classic. Perfect. Oh boy, I can’t breathe.”

“Please do. I’d rather not be the cause of your death when you just saved me.”

“All in a day’s work, ma’am. I see someone as clearly in distress as you were, and I have to help.” Minhyuk gives you a jaunty salute. “Besides, he looked like a piece of work.”

“Oh, he was. I deleted that dating app I found him on as soon as I got home.”

“I bet.”

“Really though, thank you,” you sigh. You hold out your hand, “I’m _____, to officially introduce myself.”

He laughs again and gives your hand a quick, friendly squeeze. “Minhyuk, to officially introduce myself.”

As you shake his hand, you take your first real look at Minhyuk and find yourself captivated. You’ve seen gorgeous men before, but there’s something special about this one. If you had to settle on one word for it, you’d go for puckish. Humor and intelligence light his eyes and gives his already handsome features a quality Hani would probably label “umph!”.

You give your head a mental shake to get your love-crazy friend out of your head. Falling for strangers in her thing. Nothing wrong with it, it’s just not your thing.

Dropping his hand before you do something stupid like drool, you take a breath. “So, can I do something to thank you? Like get you funnel cake or something?”

“That’s really sweet of you, but it’s alright,” he says, waving your offer away. “No one should be having a bad time at a carnival. I really have to get back to work too.”

“Oh. Do you work here at the school?”

“Me? No, no. I do work at a school though. I’m a kindergarten teacher in the next township over, but my friend who does work here asked me to, well more told me-”

“Lee Minhyuk!” A man whose looks shouldn’t exist outside of a fashion magazine strides from between tents and gestures at Minhyuk. “Quit flirting for free and get your butt to the booth! It’s our shift.”

“Guess I really have to go now.” Minhyuk sighs and gets up, but not before giving you another smile. You wonder if his mouth is just one made for smiling. “If that ass comes around again, kick him like you were planning to. I’ll vouch for you. Try to have some fun though.”

“I will. Thanks.”

He waves and follows his friend. It’s sad watching his back disappear, but Hani quickly fills in your vision. Dressed in cherry red overall shorts, she’d be hard to miss even if she wasn’t inches in front of you.

“Who was that?” she asks with a grin, enunciating every word for emphasis.

“No one,” you immediately respond.

“Didn’t look like no one.” Hani bends down, pushing her face into yours. If you weren’t good friends, it might uncomfortable, but Hani might as well be your other half. “Hmm, nope. Still there. Not a trick of the light.”

“What are you talking about?”

She bops your nose. “I haven’t seen you ever look at anyone with puppy eyes. Ever.” She draws the last word out while wickedly fluttering her eyelashes.

“Oh, shut up,” you giggle, snapping one of her overall straps. “He was just someone who helped me get rid of Greg.”

“Eww. He’s here? Why?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. He’s gone now, thanks to Minhyuk.”

“Oh, so Mr. No-one actually has a name?”

Ignoring her comment, you say, “He was more help than you were. What the heck took you so long? Did you circle the whole carnival?”

Hani’s smile goes from impish to sheepish as quickly as a summer storm.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, narrowing your eyes and poking her in the ribs.

“I found out there’s a kissing booth and I got distracted, okay?” Hani slaps your hand away and slumps backwards against the table. “The three people they have are gorgeous, baby. Gorgeous, I tell you, with the prettiest, softest lips. I can’t imagine what kissing them for real for real would be like. I’d probably die.”

“Let me guess. You kissed all three. Multiple times.”

“Just once each. The lines were so damn long.”

“Language! There are children!”

“Sorry, ‘Mom.’ The lines were so dang long.”

“Better,” you laugh.

Hani suddenly jumps up and tugs you along with her. “We should go see if the lines are shorter! Come on!”

Because no one says no to Hani, you follow along as she leads you through the maze of people, tents and rides. As it turns out, the kissing booth isn’t far away, it’s a ludicrous shade of sweetheart pink canopy that’s a true stand-out among the other tents. The triple lines keep you from seeing the interior booth itself.

“Oh, thank goodness! They are shorter!” Hani races to put herself at the end of one of the lines. She looks back to you and points at the lines on both sides. “What’re you waiting for? Get in a dang line. It’s all for charity!”

Chuckling to yourself, you shake your head as you join her. You’ll admit the idea, the spontaneity, the blitheness of it, is a little exciting. Gods, you’re so lame.

“Oh, right, here.” Winking, Hani presses a penny and a dime into your hand. “They’re doing a competition with some other booths to see who can raise the most money in coins. It’s a penny a second up to ten seconds, so up to your discretion.”

“You went and got a load of change while you were gone too, didn’t you?”

Your friend says nothing, only putting her hands in her pockets to produce a merry jingling.

Hani keeps up a constant chatter as you wait in line as if sensing you’re having second thoughts the closer you get to the front of the line. A white with bright red hearts tablecloth covers the long plastic table. Someone rigged curtains in front of each of the three kissers for a bit of merciful privacy for shyer clients, but you catch glimpses each time they’re opened. A beautiful girl waits at the opposite end of the table from you. In the middle, you’re surprised to find Minhyuk’s friend, the model guy standing there looking slightly bashful.

The butterflies in your stomach flap harder and harder. You’re too nervous to sneak a look at the person you’ll be locking lips with in a few minutes. Instead, you focus on the large canning jar sitting a little to the person’s right. Judging from its generous collection of small coins, the booth is doing very well. You try estimating how much they’ve raised so far, tuning Hani out, but then it’s your turn.

When you lift your eyes as the curtain slides open, a soft “oh” slips out.

“Hi, again.” Minhyuk beams at you like you’re the one he’s been waiting for. How did he get even more handsome in no time at all. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” you giggle. Some of the butterflies escape with the relief it’s him, but they’re replaced by even more. Damnit, get yourself together, kid.

“So, what’ll be your pleasure?”

Startled, you ask, “Excuse me?”

Minhyuk nods towards the jar. “A penny for a second, a dime for ten. Lady’s choice.”

“Oh, duh, right.”

Hani’s coins burn into your palm. Just do it, you tell yourself. You’re a grown woman. It’s not a big deal to kiss someone attractive for one second or a hundred. Other people are doing it too, so no one’s judging. Despite your pep-talk, you chicken out. You tip your palm to drop the penny into the jar. But instead of one clink, there are two. Your hand is empty.

Minhyuk looks at the jar, clears his throat and flicks his black bangs from his eyes as he leans forward. Lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper so only you can hear, he says, “Technically we’re only supposed to do ten seconds, but I think I can get away with giving you the new friend special and bump it up to eleven just for you.”

“It’s okay, we can just do ten,” you reply in a rush.

“Nah, you paid for eleven, you’ll get eleven. Gotta be fair.” He beckons you closer with two fingers and like a bee to a flower, you obey.

You jump when Minhyuk pulls the curtain closed behind you. Unfortunately, he notices. Slowly bringing his hand back to himself, he asks, “Nervous?”

Sighing, you nod. You owe him the truth. “Yeah. A little. It’s been… awhile since I’ve… kissed anyone…”

“That’s fine. Kissing’s like riding a bike, probably even easier: your body never forgets.” Minhyuk gives you another look over. His expression and tone soften. He lays a hand lightly over yours, “You don’t have to if you don’t want. No one’ll know but us.”

That makes you laugh. “Trust me, my friend who dragged me into this will, so I better just do it.” Realizing your words could be offensive, you hastily add, “Not that I think kissing you would be something to “just do” or unpleasant. I mean, you are really cute, like really cute.”

“Thanks.” Minhyuk squeezes your hand. “Just lean forward and I’ll do the rest.”

Grateful for his taking charge, you do as he asks with one last jittery look at his pink lips and close your eyes. You wait with baited breath, every other sense heightened. The sticky plastic tablecloth beneath your tense fingers, the scents of fresh cut grass and confectioner’s sugar mingle, the sound of Minhyuk’s quiet inhales, the tingling taste of anticipation on your tongue.

Minhyuk’s finger starts tapping down the seconds when his soft lips brush yours. The touch is light, the very opposite of intrusive. It’s a kiss of a nervous teen unsure of its reception. Yet it sets your knees shaking so you have to lean against the table edge. The butterflies settle and melt, pushing your lips apart with a faint, feminine sigh.

Like a puzzle piece slipping into place, Minhyuk’s mouth adjusts to the new position. A hum, somewhere between a moan and a purr, rises from his chest to spill into your mouth like pure sugar. Your lips part again, seeking, and Minhyuk answers. The kiss heats, burning away the sounds that overcrowd the summer air and even time itself. Unbidden, your hand finds Minhyuk’s neck and clings there like it’s your only anchor to reality. Minhyuk’s hand that still rests on yours slides to your wrist and tightens as if to tug your closer.

“Minhyuk,” his friend’s voice hisses from outside the curtain. “Did you two suffocate in there?”

With the deep, heavy breaths you both suck into your lungs as you jump apart, you have to wonder if maybe you did. You can only imagine Minhyuk’s wide eyes and glistening lips are mirrored on your own face. The thin skin of your lips still tingles with the unexpected rush of the kiss.

“I think our eleven seconds are up,” Minhyuk says dazedly, his eyes on your mouth.

Neither of you have removed your hands.

“I guess so.” In slow motion, your hand slides away from Minhyuk’s skin. “Um, thank you?”

He withdraws his hand as well. Still a bit breathlessly, Minhyuk chuckles. “I guess I don’t need to apologize?”

“I was about to apologize to you.”

“How about we call it even then? Since it was mutually enjoyable.” His dark eyes fall to your lips again, lingering.

The thrilling swirling in your stomach stirs. You almost lean back towards him, but a floating hand reaches from beyond the curtain to poke Minhyuk’s shoulder, hard. It rudely reminds you where you are.

You back away, needing the distance to reclaim your head. “I’m sorry. I’ll get out of your hair.”

An emotion akin to regret flashes in Minhyuk’s eyes before he quickly hides it behind a cheerful smile. “What if I liked you being in my hair?”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. You can’t think of words, let alone a witty, flirty response. you back out of the curtain. Another woman pushes past you and into Minhyuk’s curtains with a giggle. You stand there, eyes frozen on the fabric, shocked at the surge of jealousy suddenly bubbling ugly in your chest.

It’s irrational. You kissed Minhyuk, but that doesn’t give you any kind of claim over him. Hundreds of people have probably kissed him since the carnival began. Who could blame them. You didn’t even know he existed before today. But you realize now that you do, you really want to know him. All of him.

Hani pops up at your elbow, all satisfied smiles. “So, how was the smooch?” she coos, nudging you with her elbow.

You study her. Hani is always encouraging you to take more chances, to follow your heart or dreams or whatever. Honestly, you’ve accused her of ghostwriting for Disney with how cheesy she can be with that kind of thing. Maybe your best friend is on to something though.

You must have gone too long without blinking because Hani’s smile becomes a puzzled frown. “What? Did my lipstick smear or something?”

“I need another penny,” you say, holding your hand out. “And that Sharpie you had earlier?”

Your friend’s frown vanishes into a brilliant smirk. As she fishes the Sharpie from one of her many pockets and hands it to you with another penny, you grab a clean napkin from a taco stand.

“Go get him, girlfriend,” Hani hoots as you get back in Minhyuk’s line, giving you a hearty swat on the butt for good measure.

As you shuffle forward in the line, you carefully hold the napkin so your damp palms don’t make the ink you hurriedly scribbled run. You must be crazy doing this to someone you just met, and admittedly kissed, but only the good ones are crazy. Or so you’ve heard.

When you finally reach Minhyuk, his eyes get a little bit wider and his mouth drops slightly open. Definitely surprised to see you, which very nearly makes you turn around and abandon your quest. But then that mouth that stole your breath with one kiss splits into a wider grin than any he’s shown you yet. It gives you courage to hope.

“Back-”

Stopping his words with a quick peck on his lips, you lean up to his ear as you slide the scrap of paper beneath his fingers. “Call me, if you want,” you whisper. Without waiting for an answer, you drop your penny in the jar and fly back out of the booth.

“You did it?” Hani asks, already bouncing when you return to her side. At your nod, she screeches in delight, earning more than a few stares. She could care less, grabbing you in a celebratory dance. “I knew I’d rub off on you sometime.”

“We’ll see if he even calls,” you answer, giggling despite yourself. Heady giddiness over what you just did has your body soaring higher than the flying swings.

“Pft. When he calls, not ‘if’ or ‘even.’” Hani hooks her arm with yours. “In the meantime, we passed a clay-oven fired pizza stand that’s calling my name. Now that I don’t have to worry about garlic breath, I can submit.”

To resist keeping your phone screen constantly lit in the fading light, you shove your phone into your dress pocket. Of course, not before making sure the volume is at its loudest and the vibrate function is on for good measure. As you wait in in line for the pizza with Hani debating on which toppings to get, you try to ignore the phone’s weight against your thigh. Willing Minhyuk to call you won’t do anything. As much as you wished for it when you were a child reading Harry Potter, your wizarding powers never manifested.

Indeed, you concentrate so hard on not thinking about Minhyuk that when your phone does ring, you jolt and squeal in surprise.

Hani’s hand dives into your pocket when you don’t move fast enough. She slides her finger on the screen to accept the call and thrusts it against your ear. Her own ear goes right next to it.

You clear your throat. Trying to balance calm and pleasure in your voice, you say, “Hello?”

“Hi. This is ____, right?”

Minhyuk’s voice is forever embedded in your mind, so you have no trouble recognizing it. “It is. I’m… really glad you called.” “And I’m really glad you gave me your number,” Minhyuk chirps. “So, before this goes any further, I have a serious question for you.”

“Yes?”

“How do you feel about cotton candy?”

“Who doesn’t like?”

“Correct answer! Meet me and the cotton candy at the Ferris Wheel then.” Teasingly, Minhyuk makes a kissing noise into the phone before he hangs up.

#monsta x scenarios #kpopwritingnet #KWritersKollection #boy group writers net #minhyuk scenarios #monsta x minhyuk #lee minhyuk

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hoseokslovee · 6 years

Text

Piece of Peace - Hoseok x Reader (OC) Fan Fiction

Hey guys! Another update coming right at ‘ya :) Here’s chapter Eight! Enjoy! x

Chapter Eight

Mina

The loud beats of Octagon Club greeted you as you and Taehyung made your way to the entrance. Taehyung, being the social butterfly that he is, started dancing to the beat despite still being outside the club.

You fished out your phone, texting Jimin that you’re already here.

———

Mina: We’re here :)

Jimin: heyyyyyy mina i’ll be riyghf thre hold on

Mina: Okay :)

Is he already drunk? You giggled to yourself, imagining a tipsy Jimin slurring his words as he talks.

Few seconds after, Jimin emerged from the entrance and greeted you with a big hug. “I’m so happy to see you! Where’s your bestfriend?” Without a doubt, Jimin slurred, bedroom eyes roaming the area.

“Jimin, this is Taehyung. We’ve known each other since we were in high school.” You say, seeing Taehyung’s boxy smile emerge as he and Jimin shake hands.

“Park Jimin...well I’ll be damned! How long has it been?” Taehyung said loudly, telling Jimin over the loud music.

“Wait—you both know each other?!” you say, shock evident on your face. “Tae! Why didn’t you tell me?”

Taehyung chuckled. “I wanted to see the look on your face—and I succeeded!”

Taehyung tickled your chin, trying to cheer you up.

“He used to model before and I used to be the photographer in his shoots!” Taehyung explained as Jimin puts an arm around Taehyung’s shoulders. Jimin was smiling widely, looking at you.

“Well, Mina, meeting you was no coincidence. That I’m sure of!” says Jimin, grabbing your hand as he guided both you and Taehyung inside the club. “Everyone’s already here. We reserved a booth just for us so that we have a bit of privacy in this massive place.”

The three of you held hands as you went through seas of dancing bodies and loud bass music. The smell of perfume and sweat muddled your already-heightened senses, blaming the shot of tequila.

You went up a flight of metal stairs, hearing your heels clink with every step. Suddenly, you feel like you have butterflies in your stomach, not knowing why.

As you walked by various booths filled with party-goers, the three of you finally arrived at your booth.

Your breath hitched.

Jin, Yoongi, and Hoseok were laughing at a black-haired man who was dancing so smoothly to Michael Jackson’s “Billy Jean”. Seeing him, you realized that you haven’t met this one yet. Sitting right next to Jin was another man, his eyes scrunched up from laughing. He has a dimple on his cheek, and personally you find it such an adorable trait for a grown man to look so soft with just one dimple.

The group of men saw your arrival, and noticed how they grinned at you as you, Jimin, and Taehyung got closer.

“Gentlemen, the lady of the hour has arrived,” Jimin announced, raising your hand up like you’ve won a boxing match. “And, of course, I would like to introduce Kim Taehyung! My renowned photographer friend.” Jimin also raised Taehyung’s hand up, but unlike you, Taehyung guffawed loudly at Jimin’s rather unique introduction.

The men introduced themselves to Taehyung, exchanging very friendly conversation as all of you settled in the booth. Jin approached you, putting an arm around your waist. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!”

“Shut up, pabo. I’m still a little mad at you from yesterday.”

Jin puts a hand on his chest, acting offended. “I am hurt, Song Mina. I’m not as pabo as you think I am.”

You punched his side, hearing an ‘oomf’ from Jin. “You’ll always be pabo, Jin.” You said matter-of-fact, finally grinning up at him.

“Let me pour you a drink, yeah? I have something to announce to the group.”

While Jin is pouring you a drink, Hoseok walked towards you and grabbed your left hand to catch your attention.

Your heart was beating so fast, but you tried to keep your cool. Instead, you gazed up at him, smiling.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” you replied.

Hoseok brought the back of your hand to his lips and gave it a kiss, looking at you. “You’re looking beautiful tonight.”

You felt your cheeks flush, but instead of being shy like you usually are, you gave a shot at flirting.

“You look handsome yourself, Hoseok. I like what you’re wearing,” you say softly, grazing your fingers on the embroidered sleeve of his Saint Laurent jacket.

“Call me Hobi,” he said, looking at you through hooded eyes. “Sit with me?” he asked.

You nodded, allowing him to guide you to the cushioned seats.

“Can I get you anything? Food, dessert, booze?” he asked, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

I want you, a voice in your head says.

“If you’re not into alcohol I can order a soda for you, perhaps?” Hoseok offers, his smile making you weak in the knees again.

“I got her!” Jin interrupted, handing you a glass of Daiquiri. “Trust me, you’re gonna need the alcohol.”

Before you could come up with a reply, Yoongi started clinking his glass of scotch with a spoon, getting the attention of the group.

“As you may know,” he strides cooly towards the front of the booth. “Our Jin hyung has an ‘announcement’ to make, whatever the hell that means. Jin hyung?”

“Right,” Jin speaks as he stands. “Well, I’m just going to keep this little announcement short and simple. Jungkook, would you mind standing with me?”

The man who danced earlier obediently stood, looking at Jin with a cheeky grin.

“My brother right here just turned 22 last month, but unfortunately we didn’t get to throw him a ‘coming of age’ toast.” Jin says, throwing an arm around Jungkook. “So, let’s raise our glasses together and welcome this coconut head to adulthood!” Jin shouts excitedly, raising his glass.

Everybody raised their beverages at Jungkook, the men mimicking his cheeky grin. Jimin let out a small ‘woohoo’ for the maknae, clinging unto Yoongi’s arm. “Let’s geddit Kookie!”

Jungkook laughs, and you felt yourself burst into a fit of laughter when you heard him.

The boy’s laugh sounded like a freaking hyena.

Hoseok turned his head and looked at you, seemingly captivated by your laugh as well. He soon chimes in, laughing loudly.

Jimin, tipsy as he is, could not help but join the laughing fit that was happening. Sooner, everyone was cackling and chuckling, half wondering what the hell was going on.

“What a bunch of crackheads,” Yoongi exclaimed, raising his glass again. “To crackheads! I don’t know what the hell is happening but okay!”

“To new friendships!” Taehyung says, looking at you and the rest of the gang.

“To drinking! Because I love to drink!” says Jimin, already downing his 5th glass of vodka. Yoongi smacked his butt, making Jimin turn his head to face Yoongi. “You need to behave,” he growled.

“Or what?” Jimin challenged, getting himself close to Yoongi’s face as he puts his arms around his neck.

“Or you’ll wake up in the morning sore in all the right places.”

Hearing Jimin and Yoongi talk like that to each other made you feel all hot and bothered.

And the glass of Daiquiri is not helping your situation at all.

“Aaaand there goes our dirty grandpa! To Yoonmin! May they never get enough of each other’s dicks!” Jin shouts over the loud music as the others laughed.

“To Mina,” Hoseok finally spoke, pointedly looking at you with that smoldering expression on his handsome face. “May she looks at us as her newfound family!”

Everybody cheered when you were mentioned, emitting a big smile from you.

“Also, to me and Namjoon,” Jin says as Namjoon openly embraced him from the back. “We are finally and officially coming out tonight as a couple!” Jin turns his head towards Namjoon, sealing the toast with a sweet kiss on the lips.

“I love you, sweetie,” Namjoon spoke, looking at Jin with so much adoration.

Your eyes went wide as you witnessed Jin and Namjoon.

You were shocked that all along you thought Jin was straight. Never in the 2 years you’ve known him as a co-worker would you have thought that he had a boyfriend.

Well, you thought. He never really disclosed it with you.

Whenever both of you had a chance to talk, you always did the story telling. Jin just merely listens to everything you have to say, often just throwing out ridiculous opinions and jokes here and there. You never truly got to listen to HIS story.

You felt guilty deep inside.

But, despite the sudden emotions you were feeling, you felt genuinely happy for Jin and Namjoon.

Jin looked at you from across the booth, somehow sensing your thoughts. He smiled, like really smiled genuinely at you for the first time.

You returned his smile too, feeling relieved somehow at the gesture.

“Not surprised at all,” Yoongi and Hoseok said together, fist bumping when they realized they said the same thing.

“To my hyungs and my new noona,” says Jungkook. “Let’s get it!” He shouted.

“To everyone!” You finally spoke. “Let’s get this party started!”

“TURN UP!” Taehyung screamed excitedly.

Everyone in the booth clinked their drinks together, laughing and giggling and shouting. The music in the club got louder, and before you knew it, everyone’s dancing. You swiftly spotted Taehyung and Jungkook talking, the former’s hand sliding up the latter’s chest.

Jimin grabbed you to hand you another glass of Daiquiri. “Tae told me you’re shit with alcohol! I swear this will be the last one I’ll give! Drink up baby!” Jimin slurred, his mouth near your ear, feeling his hot breath.

“Promise!?” You asked above the music. Jimin nodded enthusiastically, and then you drank the glass in one go.

“Damn, Mina!” Jimin cheered, kissing your cheek as a job-well-done. “Come dance with me.”

You obliged, feeling the alcohol kick in. You smirked at Jimin from under curled lashes and went to the dance floor, putting his hands on your hips as you danced.

Taehyung joined you and Jimin, putting you in between them. Jimin rolled his hips, his left arm grabbing the side of your neck as he danced. Taehyung’s front is at your back, and with the bass booming loudly in your ears, you lost yourself to the music.

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

Hoseok

Hot damn.

Sitting in the booth with Yoongi, Jin, and Namjoon, you caught yourself staring at Mina dancing, being sandwiched between Jimin and Taehyung. Her pretty wine-colored red dress occasionally slides up her thigh while she dances, the entirety of it adorned with tiny sequins that catches the strobe lights inside the club perfectly. Her pink hair is now swept to the side, exposing trickles of sweat down her neck. The bodice of her dress hugged her figure in all the right places, making you gulp down a lump in your throat as you see her face. She’s closing her eyes, seemingly swayed and owned by the loud pumping of music as her mouth formed into an ‘o’.

You feel yourself harden at the site.

You sit back, long legs apart as you sip your scotch and continued gazing at the beautiful pink haired woman.

“I’m so turned on by Jimin right now,” Yoongi says, his low voice almost sounding like a growl.

“When are you not turned on by him, really?” Namjoon replied, smiling at Yoongi’s hungry expression.

“Look at them. Sandwiching Mina between those two isn’t helping me at all,” Yoongi speaks, readjusting his pants to somehow hide his hard on. “Don’t you agree, Hobi?”

“I’m suffering,” you laughed, turning to face the hyungs who were giving you the dirtiest grins.

“What the heck are you waiting for, stupid? Go dance with her!” Jin whines, pointing at the dance floor. “Also you, Yoongi! Go collect your boyfriend over there. He’s practically having sex with Mina on the dance floor!”

“Go now, before some other guy’s going to feel himself up on Mina,” Namjoon nonchalantly said to you, raising his glass of scotch to his lips.

With Jin and Namjoon’s comments, you and Yoongi stood up at the same time and made your way towards Jimin, Mina, and Taehyung.

“I’ll pull Jimin away first. When he’s already with me, go snake your way towards Mina,” Yoongi mutters, looking at you as both your knuckles met into a fist bump.

As you waited for Yoongi to take Jimin away, you danced along with other club goers on the floor. A guy wearing a tight shirt danced with you, and so you went with the flow and showed him what you were made of. Soon after, two women started grinding on you, and a part of you wanted to escape. You scanned the crowd to look for Yoongi, but then you spotted Mina now dancing alone with Taehyung. That was your cue to approach.

As you made your way towards them, Taehyung catches a glimpse of you nearing, and so he nods, giving you the go signal. Jungkook approached Taehyung and started dancing with him, the maknae grabbing Taehyung’s hips as the latter placed his hand on the maknae’s chest. You saw Jungkook whisper something into Taehyung’s ear.

After a few dances, both of them disappeared hand in hand, walking away from the crowd.

In no time, you’re now face to face with Mina.

Mina opened her eyes, looking up at you as you took your spot and started swaying with her to the music. She smiled sexily, even went as far as winking at you as she wrapped her arms around your neck.

“You seem to be having fun,” you told her, putting your mouth near her ear, your breath tickling her.

“I could say the same to you,” Mina breathed, her lips near your neck. “I saw you dancing earlier.”

You looked at her. “Yeah? What did you think of my moves?”

Mina grinned, her left cheek showing her dimple. “You look like you know what you’re doing.”

You looked down at her, admiring her beauty. She raised her head up to look at you as well, her plump mouth looking so ready to be kissed.

“Hobi,” she says.

“Yeah,” you replied, breathing deep.

Let me kiss you, you thought.

“You’re gay, aren’t you?” she asked, smiling.

Somehow, you stopped dancing and just stared blankly at her.

What...?

Mina instantly noticed, her eyes widening as if she’s been woken up from her trance. “Hobi, I’m so sorry! I d-didn’t mean to offend you—“

“You think I’m gay?” you asked.

“I—well...I actually don’t know...” she confessed, covering her face. “Please don’t be mad.”

Mad? How could you be mad?

All of a sudden, you laughed. Hard. tears began pooling your eyes.

Mina looked at you, all the more confused than she already is. “Hobi?”

After wiping your tears, you looked at Mina. How precious and innocent can she get?

“Are you mad at me?” Mina asked, her mouth frowning.

You took a step closer towards Mina until both your chests were touching. You raised a hand and touched the side of her neck, then up the side of her face.

“Mina, I like women,” you closed the distance between you and her, your mouth hovering just above her slightly opened lips. “So, no, I am not gay.”

Mina gazed at you, her eyes roaming your face before settling on your mouth. “I’m relieved,” she whispered.

“Are you now?” you lightly grazed your lips on hers, emitting a slight gasp from her.

“Yes,” she sighed. Her fingers grabbed the front of your shirt, wanting more.

“Then show me.”

Mina closed the slim distance between as she covered your mouth with hers. You passionately kiss her, slipping your tongue inside her mouth. She puts her arms around your neck and angled your head to the side, deepening the kiss as she moaned in your mouth. Your hands caressed the side of her body, sliding up her bare back and down the dip in her spine.

“Let’s get out of here,” you growled, pulling away from her and grabbing Mina by the hand.

“Where are we going?” Mina asked, looking dazed from the kiss.

“My car,” you mused. “We need some privacy.”

“Wait,” Mina says. “Can I go to the bathroom first?”

Is she having second thoughts? “Sure, I’ll wait for you here.”

She gave you a smile, before turning her heels towards the ladies’ room.

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

Mina

As you approached the ladies’ room, you heard a sound coming from the spacey storage room next to the men’s bathroom. The door for the storage room had a hole in it, you noticed.

You don’t know what went through your head that you decided to peak.

The light was dim, but enough for you to see who’s inside.

“Baby, fuck,” a familiar voice echoed inside the room, muddled with someone’s deep groans as something hard continuously slam against the wall. “Don—t stop.”

Is that—Jimin?!

“I told you...to behave...didn’t I, Jimin,” Yoongi’s voice said, panting from behind the storage room door.

“Aah, baby...please,” Jimin moaned. You faintly saw his naked body, along with Yoongi’s bare buttocks. He slammed hard into Jimin, making him cry out of pleasure.

“Make me come,” Jimin pleaded, spreading his legs apart. Yoongi growled, biting his lips to muffle his sharp moans. He picked up the pace, pumping his dick inside Jimin.

You looked away, your back now against the wall.

That was kind of hot, you thought.

You touched your cheeks, overwhelmed by the sudden turn of tonight’s events. Seeing Yoongi and Jimin have sex in a public place turned you on even more after what happened in the dance floor with Hobi.

Hobi.

You went back to where Hobi was waiting, your legs taking bigger strides. As you neared Hobi, he has that look in his eyes again.

Like he could see right through you.

“Mina,” he whispered.

Before he could even talk, you threw yourself at him and kissed his lips. Hobi successfully grabbed you safely with his hand on your bare back.

You pulled away, enough to gaze at Hobi through hooded eyelids. “Take me.”

Hobi looked down at you, his eyes dark with lust.

He then grabs your hand and together you made your way out the club.

#Kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #slice of life #SMUT #yoonmin #taekook #fluff #original character #clubbing #drinking #dancing

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allen-walkers · 7 years

Text

The Unexpected Disadvantages of a Cuddly Roommate

Title: The Unexpected Disadvantages of a Cuddly Roommate

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou

Rating: T.

Word Count: 3 k.

Summary: Having a gigantic, unrequited crush on your high school friend and roommate isn’t easy. Especially when said roommate is the most cuddly and affectionate person in existence.

There is only so much Kuroo’s poor heart can take.

[Read it on AO3]

When he and Bokuto signed the lease to what would be their apartment for the entirety of their college years, Kuroo didn’t expect to develop a gigantic crush on him. How could he have known that there would come a time when his high school rival and friend would become the object of his adoration? That there would come a time when Bokuto’s loud, boisterous laughter would go from being slightly obnoxious, to becoming one of his favorite sounds in the world? That there would come a time when he would find his heart thumping wildly against his ribcage every time Bokuto said his name, or looked at him with those big yellow eyes of his?

He couldn’t. He couldn’t have possibly known, for fuck’s sake.

He should have known, though. Bokuto is as fine as can be, and Kuroo has always been keenly aware of that fact. Of course, there is a big difference between admiring your friend’s looks, and wanting to pin him against a wall and kiss him breathless every time you see him leave his bedroom in the morning in nothing but his boxers, Kuroo can admit that to himself. But the more time he spends with Bokuto, the more Kuroo realizes that falling for him was the most obvious outcome of sharing an apartment with him.

Not only is Bokuto a hunk, he is also sweet, and funny, and caring. They have dozens of shared interests, and their senses of humor complement each other in the best of ways. Over time, even Bokuto’s denseness ended up becoming endearing to Kuroo, something that he would have never thought possible. That doesn’t mean that Kuroo doesn’t get the urge to kill him whenever he forgets to separate the laundry and ends up dying their white clothes pink, or whenever he places things in the fridge in the exact place where they’ll fall once either of them opens the fridge again. It’s just that being Bokuto Koutarou’s roommate implies developing a great amount of patience, and a certain fondness for his antics.

Besides, Kuroo is aware of his faults as a roommate as well, with his habit of getting up at 3 in the morning to pour himself a bowl of cereal, his inability to cook anything other than rice, and a couple variations of eggs, and a tendency to leave the laundry in the dryer. He can’t go judging Bokuto too harshly.

It took him nearly a year to admit to himself that he had a crush on Bokuto, and another half a year to admit it out loud, once he could no longer stand Kenma’s judgmental looks every time his eyes trailed on Bokuto’s butt as he walked away, or he laughed a little too long at one of his dumb jokes.

By the middle of his sophomore year, Kuroo realized that he was slowly going from having a crush, to falling completely in love. So, knowing full-well that his feelings would never be returned, Kuroo decided to get over his crush, and move on.

But that soon proved to be much harder than he initially thought, especially for one particular reason: as it turns out, Bokuto is an incredibly affectionate and cuddly person. And that would be fine, maybe, if Kuroo’s heart didn’t do all kinds of somersaults and cartwheels every time he felt the warmth of Bokuto’s skin on his own. Maybe, if he wasn’t steadily falling head over heels for him, Kuroo would have been able to handle the insane amount of physical affection that Bokuto gave and demanded. But that wasn’t the case, and remaining calm and contained whenever Bokuto casually cuddled up to him like it was nothing was becoming increasingly hard.

Bokuto’s tendency to touch Kuroo started simply enough: an arm slung over his shoulder while they watched movies together, a soft pat on his hip on his way to the fridge, a foot resting on his calf when they sat on the floor doing their homework together. Kuroo was fine with that. He could manage that, and he would be lying if he said that he didn’t like it.

But soon enough, it evolved into big, tight hugs whenever Kuroo came back to their apartment, and resting his head on Kuroo’s shoulder while they watched movies, and doing their homework on Kuroo’s bed instead of the floor, with their legs casually tangled together.

When Kuroo found himself being spooned by Bokuto in the middle of their monthly Saint Seiya marathon, he had the sudden realization that, no matter how hard he tried to forgo any romantic feelings for him, if Bokuto kept cuddling him and touching him all the time, he would never achieve his goal.

He kept trying, though. Kuroo Tetsurou may be many things, but he is not a quitter.

Right now, as he stands in the hallway of their apartment complex in front of their door after a very long and exhausting day, he tries his best to muster enough energy to deal with Bokuto’s oblivious affection without snapping and proposing to him on the spot, or something stupid like that.

Heaving a defeated sigh, Kuroo pushes his key into lock, and pushes the door open to step into his and Bokuto’s apartment. He hasn’t even finished taking off his shoes, when Bokuto’s head pops in from behind the doorway to the living room, his trademark broad, bright smile already in place. Kuroo both hates and loves how the mere sight of him manages to make his heart flutter.

“Hey, you’re back!” Bokuto exclaims, stepping out of the doorway and towards him. He reaches him in three long strides, and promptly wraps his arms around him in a tight hug. Kuroo closes his eyes, and breathes in slowly. Bokuto smells of apple-scented hair wax, soap, and something he can’t quite discern, but it’s so undoubtedly him, that Kuroo can’t help but to love it. His warmth feels so familiar surrounding his body, cold from the chilly breeze that blows outside, and Kuroo welcomes it eagerly, not without a pang of longing in his chest.

“Hey, Bo,” he returns the greeting, wrapping his arms around Bokuto’s broad, strong back, and patting him on the shoulder a couple times.

“I missed you!” Bokuto exclaims once they step away from their hug, and Kuroo instantly misses being inside his arms. Bokuto gives his shoulder an affectionate squeeze before returning to the living room, with Kuroo trailing behind him. “How was your day?”

“It was…” Kuroo stops to consider the question for a couple seconds, and then shrugs his shoulders. “Meh.”

“Well,” Bokuto starts, flopping down onto the couch and grabbing the TV remote. “Nothing that a Saint Seiya marathon can’t fix!”

“Saint Seiya again?”

“Come on, bro. We both know you can never get enough of Saint Seiya.”

“True,” Kuroo concedes with a tiny smile. Bokuto pats the couch right next to him, and Kuroo is there in a heartbeat.

He does sit on the other edge of the couch, though, determined, for the sake of his cardiac health, to not fall victim to Bokuto’s cuddly nature again.

But before he can do anything about it, his head is resting on Bokuto’s lap, and Bokuto’s fingers are combing through his hair, his nails scratching his scalp in the most pleasant way. Kuroo mentally curses his lack of self-restraint, but also makes no effort to get out of the very comfortable position he is currently in.

He tries his darned best to focus his attention on the screen, instead of on the feel of Bokuto’s fingers playing with his hair. But it is a useless effort, and he becomes more and more aware of every single one of Bokuto’s movements with every passing second.

“Bro, your hair is so soft,” Bokuto mumbles all of sudden, his voice filled with a strange sort of admiration.

Kuroo turns his head on Bokuto’s lap to look at him, eyebrows arched in surprise at the sudden compliment. Bokuto smiles down at him, and Kuroo is very mad that he manages to look so innocent when he is the one to blame for the inhuman rhythm at which his heart is currently beating.

“Maybe if you eased down on the hair wax, your hair would be soft too.”

“Hey, are you saying you don’t like my hair?”

“I’ve been telling you that your hair is ridiculous for years!”

“Like you’re one to talk!”

Bokuto jabs his finger into Kuroo’s waist right underneath his ribs, making him squirm and laugh a little. Kuroo immediately slaps his hand away, but Bokuto doesn’t relent, quickly pressing his fingers against Kuroo’s belly in a way he knows is gonna tickle. Kuroo responds with an indignant yelp, and sits up and away from Bokuto, shooting him a nasty glare.

“Don’t,” he whispers, eyes squinted and hands raised in defense.

“It’s too late, bro.” Bokuto, who is far from being deterred by the warning tone of Kuroo’s voice, slowly inches closer with a mischievous grin, and a look that can only be described as ‘predatory’. If he wasn’t so worried about protecting his dignity, Kuroo would probably be more than a little turned on at the sight.

“I’m warning you, Bo, don’t-!” Kuroo’s final warning is cut short by a high-pitched scream when Bokuto practically pounces on him, his fingers mercilessly digging into his belly, and his undignified scream is soon turned into loud, desperate laughter. “No! Get off me! Get off me, you big jerk!” he begs whenever he can catch a breath in between loud bouts of laugher. Bokuto merely laughs in response, refusing to stop his assault on Kuroo’s ribs for more than one second at a time.

Kuroo kicks his feet and pushes at Bokuto’s face and chest to no avail. Bokuto is too strong, and while Kuroo is the first one to admire the magnificence of his gigantic biceps and broad chest, right now he curses them more than anything.

But despite being initially overpowered, Kuroo emerges victorious after a couple minutes when he manages to get all of Bokuto’s 180 pounds off of him by wrapping his legs around his waist, and throwing both of them to the floor. Bokuto’s back slams against the carpet, and he lets a tiny “oof” when Kuroo lands on him, straddling his hips to keep him in place. Before Bokuto can even attempt to resume his assault, Kuroo grabs his wrists, and has his arms pinned on both sides of his head in no time.

“Hey, let go of me!” Bokuto whines, struggling against Kuroo’s hold.

“It’s over, Anakin!” Kuroo exclaims, tightening his grip on Bokuto’s wrists, and pressing his knees against Bokuto’s ribs. “I have the high ground!”

“Ugh, you nerd!”

Kuroo laughs heartily, a mocking remark already making its way out of his lips. But the sentence crashes and dies at the back of his throat before it gets the chance to be uttered, as soon as a couple facts catch up to him. The first one: he is currently sitting on top of Bokuto, with his ass resting quite comfortably on Bokuto’s crotch. And the second one: Bokuto is blushing a very deep shade of pink.

“Um, Tetsu?” Bokuto’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Kuroo’s eyes widen when he realizes that Bokuto is probably very aware of Fact Number One, and a blush of his own starts to creep its way into his cheeks.

“Mmm?” he hums in response, unable to come up with a more eloquent response.

“Dude, you’re kind of…” Bokuto clears his throat, and tears his eyes from Kuroo’s face, suddenly finding the ceiling immensely interesting. “You’re kind of, like, sitting on my junk right now.”

Kuroo doesn’t move an inch, his brain still attempting to compute the situation that he suddenly finds himself in. Then, without a word, he hastily lets go of Bokuto’s wrists, and scrambles to get off him as fast as he can.

Before he can, though, Bokuto grabs him firmly by the hips to stop his movements. Kuroo freezes in place, a wave of shock washing over his entire body. Meanwhile, Bokuto’s face has reached a shade of pink that Kuroo would have never thought the human body was capable of achieving.

“Um, Bo?” he mumbles after a momentary silence. “What… are you doing?”

Bokuto is doing his best to avoid his gaze, his lower lip worried between his teeth, and his brows furrowed over the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t answer right away. His fingers feel impossibly warm on Kuroo’s hips, a warmth so pleasant that he nearly doesn’t notice that they are trembling slightly.

“I… I really don’t want you to move,” Bokuto’s voice finally shatters the silence, barely louder than a whisper.

And for the first time in nearly two years, Kuroo considers the possibility that, maybe, maybe, his crush isn’t as unrequited as he initially thought.

He can practically hear his blood rushing to his face as his heart begins to beat even faster than before, slamming wildly against his ribcage. He stammers and splutters for a few moments, struggling to utter more than two coherent words together.

“You can move if you want to!” Bokuto exclaims when he notices Kuroo’s sudden inability to function normally. He hastily lets go of him, but Kuroo quickly grabs his wrists to place his hands back on his hips.

“I don’t want to move!” Kuroo exclaims, wide-eyed.

Bokuto blinks owlishly up at him, returning his wide-eyed gaze with more than a little surprise. Then, he sits up in one fluid motion, and, without a warning, crashes his lips against Kuroo’s.

Kuroo doesn’t stop to think. He knows that if he does, his head will probably explode, or melt, or both. Instead of that, he focuses on returning the kiss, burying his fingers in Bokuto’s ridiculously waxed hair. Bokuto pulls him even closer to his chest, his fingers digging into Kuroo’s hips even harder than before. The kiss is awkward at first, their lips pressed together in a way that makes their teeth clash, and their noses squeezed against one another almost painfully. And still, it is more than either of them could have ever asked for.

Kuroo manages to get his body to move after a few seconds, tilting his head in the right way so that their lips slide together more comfortably. Bokuto can’t hold back a whimper, tightening his grip on Kuroo’s hips, and Kuroo nearly does the same. Bokuto’s lips are so ridiculously soft and full that it nearly makes him angry. But he is kissing them right now, after nearly two years of wanting nothing more than to do so, and anger is the last thing he could feel right now.

They part only when breathing becomes a difficult task, taking in big gulps of air, and sighing heavily against each other’s lips. They stare silently at each other with heavily-lidded eyes, barely moving at all, both of them feeling like their hearts are going to jump out of their chests any second.

“I can’t believe I just kissed you,” Bokuto whispers after a few moments. The sound of his voice breaking the silence carries with it a stunning realization that hits them both with the force of a freight train.

Kuroo leans away from Bokuto, fingers still buried in his hair, and gives him a look of utter shock and disbelief.

“I can’t believe you just kissed me!” he exclaims loudly, and Bokuto immediately mimics his expression, also leaning away from him.

“Dude, I’ve had a crush on you since we moved in!” he nearly yells.

Kuroo momentarily wonders if he somehow managed to fall into some sort of alternate reality without realizing.

“Bro, me too!”

“I-I thought you’d never like me that way!”

“Why the hell would you think that!?” Kuroo exclaims, fully aware that his attempts to hide his feelings for Bokuto were nothing short of mediocre. Even someone as dense as Bokuto had to have his suspicions.

“I don’t know, you never made a move!”

“That was only because I thought you weren’t interested in me!”

“What!? Dude, you’re, like, perfect! Why wouldn’t I be interested in you!?” Bokuto’s words are filled with indignation, as if the mere implication that he could be anything but head-over-heels for Kuroo is nothing short of offensive.

Kuroo has to take a moment to appreciate such an adorable confession, his heart swelling with sheer, uncontained adoration.

“Is that why you kept cuddling me?” he asks after regaining his composure a little.

“Duh! I thought I was being obvious!” Bokuto frowns, a tiny pout forming on his lips. “What, you thought I was, like, exceptionally cuddly or something?”

“Yes!”

Bokuto slowly shakes his head in disbelief, his mind unable to process the amount of Kuroo’s obliviousness.

“God, Tetsu, for being such a smart guy, you’re actually pretty dumb.”

“Shut up,” Kuroo says, a badly concealed smile tinting his voice.

He leans in to kiss Bokuto again, their lips finding their perfect place against each other on the first try this time. And they keep kissing, and laughing, and teasing each other well into the night, tangled up on the living room floor, and then on the sofa once the carpet is no longer comfortable enough.

The next morning, the first rays of sunlight find them a mess of tangled limbs on top of the cushions, with their Saint Seiya DVD still playing in the background. And when those first rays of sunlight hit Kuroo’s eyes and awaken him, the first thing he sees is Bokuto’s sleeping face, so familiar, yet so full of unknown subtleties he longs to discover.

And as those first rays of sunlight hit Bokuto’s eyes and awake him as well, Kuroo’s loving gaze is met with soft, golden yellow. And at that moment, Kuroo thinks that, maybe, having a massive crush on your high school friend and roommate is not such a bad thing, after all.

#haikyuu!!#bokuroo #bokukuro #bokuroo fic #bokuroo fanfiction #bokuto koutarou #kuroo tetsurou #fanfiction #mine #text

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thevesseler · 7 years

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Prologue Part 3

Beginning of Story Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[Night falls. Almost nobody can relax at a time like this. Even six years since the war began, it never gets any easier. Maybe tomorrow will be the last day of your life. Maybe next week. You thought you were done with this. You thought from now on you could live a quaint, domestic life with two kids and a dog. Then you remember that Paulla hates dogs.]

[On the other side of the wall, Lunero talks loudly in his sleep, as he often does.]

LUNERO: What do you mean people can't just eat cigarettes? You don't know my life story!

[You jot down what you've just heard. Nobody gives you greater creative inspiration than an unconscious wizard after one sip of his husband's gin & tonic.]

LUNERO: You know damn well what the pillowcase is for, stop pretending to play stupid!

[Ten feet away from Ester, Terys rolls over face-down into his pillow and groans quietly. From one bed over, Milenah gently pats him on the back.]

MILENAH: Stay strong. When we move out, you may not have to hear this every night.

[He flips over again to look up at her.]

TERYS: You're in high spirits.

MILENAH: Things are gonna change between the two of us from now on, my friend. I'm talking tit-for-tat. Synergy.

TERYS: ...Synergy? Is not synonymous with–

MILENAH: You make me your priority, I provide you with the ammo.

TERYS: That's a very loose and possibly inaccurate way to describe synergy. I... am too tired for this.

[Just as he shifts his whole body away from her, she grabs him by the shoulder.]

MILENAH: No you aren't! It's simple– buff me extra good, and I'll write you new tunes to try out. Look...

[She shoves a piece of manuscript paper in his face.]

TERYS: Did you rip this out of my book? This... this is only an upbeat and two measures. One of which might be incomplete.

MILENAH: So it's a work in progress, big deal. Just read it.

[Terys' eyes adjust to the dim light.]

MILENAH: This tune is intended to sharply increase our party's attack. Surging with confidence, it's as if our entire bodies are made of a star's burning energy. I call it... “All-Star.”

[The paper is shredded in two seconds flat.]

MILENAH: Gah!

TERYS: Sorry, I don't mean to be ungrateful for your effort. But the song has to be original for it to work as a spell. And this is, note-for-note, the first phrase of a song that already exists. I appreciate the sentiment, though.

MILENAH: There are only so many melodies we can generate throughout history before one of us commits accidental plagiarism...

TERYS: I know, Milenah.

MILENAH: So much for synergy!

TERYS: Laila tov, Milenah.

MILENAH: Don't you Laila Tov me! I need someone to vent to!

[It's too fucking late. He's already Laila Tov'd on her hard, and only Lunero yelling about shoelaces in the other room will wake him up.]

[The non-sequiturs mean nothing to Dael. He's been hearing them since he was fifteen. Given that he's thirty-six now, it's become somewhat akin to soft music. And like any responsible thirty-six-year-old with a daunting task the following morning, he will not rest until he kills that mid-level atrocity in the Cove once and for all. If he loses one more Bounty Hunter to her, he's going to hurl his laptop out the window (1).]

[Sarjane rests peacefully, feet against the wall. She dreams of her life as a once-carefree teen, attending fairs with her friends and staying over at their houses throwing popcorn at the screen because only the worst movies air late at night. “See you at school tomorrow,” they tell her when she leaves on Sunday morning.]

[But there is no school the next day. Not figuratively, not literally. Eleven teachers, arriving early to set up class, turned to ash. Smoke filling the entire province. Sarjane wishes she didn't live close enough to the school grounds to inhale it, but too far away to rescue the staff. And she could have rescued them.]

[But why her? Why did it all fall on the shoulders of a sixteen-year-old girl? Why couldn't the other students rise to her level? Why did her gift give her a greater responsibility? All these nights of choking, becoming short of breath in her sleep, reimagining the aftermath of the flames... why did it have to be her? Why her?!]

[Sarjane jolts awake, a single bead of sweat rolling down her face. Not wanting to be alone with her own thoughts, she scans the room for Wyntram, only to see an empty bed. Instead he's out on the patio, sharing a single cigarette with Paulla.]

PAULLA: You're only mooching off of me because you don't have your own.

WYNTRAM: Well yeah, not anymore, not for years. But I can't shake off this feeling of impending doom. It's been psyching me out so badly, I can't even sleep like I was hoping to.

PAULLA: Really, now? Who convinced who to set out to the RM?

WYNTRAM: I know, shut up. But it's better to go than to stay.

PAULLA: I think we're safer here.

WYNTRAM: I don't care what you think. You already agreed to go.

[She exhales a cloud of smoke through her nostrils, leaning further over the banister.]

PAULLA: How do you even describe “impending doom” as a feeling?

WYNTRAM: It's kind of like... when you feel guilty about something, but you have no idea what you've done to feel that way. It's as if someone kicked me in the balls and told me I should be ashamed of myself, then walked away without telling me why.

PAULLA: Huh.

WYNTRAM: Huh.

[He takes the remaining butt from her and flicks it into the distance.]

PAULLA: I've felt it before.

WYNTRAM: Yeah?

PAULLA: When you've never lived lived by a human's code of ethics, you can't really understand why an entire village is trying to hunt you down. To them, you've committed unspeakable crimes, but to you, you're just... trying to feed yourself in the only way you know how.

WYNTRAM: Have you ever held a job before the war? And, uh... the punishment?

PAULLA: The 2500s were a different time to have horns sprouting out of your head. What do you think? Everyone keeps saying everything got worse over the years, but I don't see it. They're all nostalgic for a society just as fucked as their own, if not more.

WYNTRAM: That's fair.

PAULLA: I guess what I'm trying to say is, you'll get over that feeling of impending doom eventually and go back to living a normal life, even if it takes 500 years for someone to break the curse.

WYNTRAM: That's... oddly comforting.

PAULLA: Really? I was just talking out of my ass, but if you got something from it, I'm glad.

WYNTRAM: You going back inside?

PAULLA: If I don't, Ester's going to think I'm dead. You should probably do the same.

[Back in your room, you watch Paulla stride through the door and brace yourself for when she inevitably jumps into your lap, which she does]

PAULLA: Miss me?

ESTER: I thought you were dead.

PAULLA: Hhhh!

[She knows you're kidding, but it's still fun to say.]

ESTER: Paulla...

PAULLA: Yeah?

ESTER: It's been a really long time since we've been back at the RM, and we don't know how much has changed. So if anything happens to us that we're not prepared for... I think it's time.

[She gasps.]

PAULLA: No way.

ESTER: That's right. I'm going to show you one of my comics.

PAULLA: Oh my god, is that me? Is that supposed to be me? I love it, by the way.

ESTER: Thanks, and yes, that's clearly you.

PAULLA: Why am I a goat?

ESTER: You know what they say, you are what you eat.

PAULLA: Hmm.

[She appears deep in thought.]

PAULLA: Should've drawn me as ass, then.

[Her final comment makes you lie awake for the remainder of the night.]

(1) Said “mid-level atrocity in the Cove” is the Alluring Siren boss from the 2015 RPG Darkest Dungeon. The Bounty Hunter is one of the game's hero classes.

#The Vesseler #Story

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mythicalmythos · 7 years

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Princess stories I wish I’d had as a child.

(So this wound up being about twice as long as planned but it feels good to finally get it all out there)

Okay so, this has kind of been bouncing around in my head since I saw Wonder Woman over the summer.

I grew up watching Disney movies and I am a huge Disney nerd to this day but the older I get the more I come to realize that as much as I love the Disney princess movies, I can’t really support some of their messages, intentional or not, as a woman in her 20s out of college, as I could in the past, even in high school.

Don’t get me wrong, I understand that the movies are a product of their time, and for a long time in our society the main path a girl’s life took was grow up, meet a boy, get married, have lots of babies. There was a huge amount of focus on maintaining the white picket fence life in America. Though we as women have made huge strides since the first Disney movie was produced, I feel like entertainment media takes a while to catch up to the changes society makes, especially media who’s target audience is made up of mostly kids.

In spite of all of this I think that Walt Disney himself was in favor of gender equality, even if it might not have been in the same manor and degree that we have today. He and his company made their mark on the world by making movies about female protagonists. Yes, you can argue that the women portrayed in the movies aren’t great role models and I agree with you. However, even in “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs” the main conflict is between two women. (Messed up and vain though that conflict may be.) Then in 1946, Disney produced a short film called “The Story of Menstruation. That’s right. Disney made a short film that gives accurate health information about periods in FUCKING 1946. While it is not perfect (come on it’s post-War, women are still expected to marry and have babies), it explains periods in accurate and scientific language and most importantly, emphasizes that periods are a normal and healthy (if annoying) part of every uterus-possessing human’s life. In 1946! I didn’t even realize that this existed until I was in college and I didn’t believe the friend who told me about it until they pulled it up and made me watch it. Why wasn’t this used or even mentioned in sex ed growing up? Though it is old and doesn’t really explain sex past mentioning that it is necessary for pregnancy to occur, it still is just a good jumping off point as anything I was shown/told as a pre-teen. Come on, this is a great resource to show a child who is asking the early questions about puberty (which happens way earlier than any parent is ready for. I myself was a very curious child and asked a lot of embarrassing questions WAY before my parents thought they would have to answer any of them.)

Okay, that was more than I thought I had to say on that but anyways, back to the Princess movies themselves. The one that I have the biggest problem with is “The Little Mermaid.” I know “Sleeping Beauty” is pretty bad too with the whole ‘unconscious therefor unable to give consent thing’ but honestly that for whatever reason doesn’t get to me like Ariel’s story does.

Before I totally start ragging on this movie let me just say I really loved this movie for a long time. I’m very musical and the music is amazing. I grew up singing them and “Poor Unfortunate Souls” is in my top 10 villain songs. (Also Ursula is based on a famous drag queen named Divine, which is awesome.) I love all of the songs in this movie, even the forgettable one at the beginning. But once you string them together with the rest of the story, I just can’t get behind the final product anymore. A few years ago, my mom showed me a video that Mayim Bialik posted on her YouTube channel where she talks about how she reacted to the movie (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h-9pm8Zy7SY). At first I thought ‘okay she has a point but it’s still a classic story’ then I started to think about it off and on in the back of my mind, along with reading and looking into the original story by H. C. Anderson (which, not exactly a kids story, be prepared for a lot of questions and blood). And I slowly came to realize that I can’t support showing this movie to my own kids someday without first having a serious talk about self-respect. No one should be told that they have to change a fundamental part of who they are or their body to find “love”. REAL “True Love” is accepting and unconditional, fish tail and all.

So where exactly does Wonder Woman come into all of this? Well back when I saw it in June, I was a bit hesitant because I’ve always kind of written WW off because of her outfit. Not my finest choice I’ll admit, but, nerd though I am, I never have been big into comic books or the Justice League cartoons (though Teen Titans with Raven and Starfire was one of my favorites. It hasn’t been until more recently that I have really come to appreciate the superhero genre.) But when I heard that WW was getting her own big screen story, I was intrigued. I didn’t know much going in, though I had high hopes. I’m a bit embarrassed to say I went partially because of Chris Pine because I tend to enjoy the projects he picks. But when I saw the movie, I was blown away. Not that the movie doesn’t have its weak spots for me (Ares took quite a bit of convincing). But as I came out of the theater I finally understood why my brothers love superhero movies. Seeing a woman (or in this case, a lot of women) on screen kicking butt, making their own stories, and being general badasses gave me this surge of confidence that I could do anything I set my mind to. This is a movie I didn’t know I was missing until I saw it. The more I read about how Patty Jenkins went about creating the world of Themyscira, like hiring a range of women of color, female body builders, weightlifters and wrestlers, it didn’t even occur to me that muscles on women are often considered ugly by our society. These women had bodies that reflected the work that they put in everyday and the power and strength that they possess. They are beautiful and send a beautiful message to young girls that they can be anything damn social standards of gender roles and beauty.

So I saw WW months ago and had talked to my friends about it but my thoughts and the powerful message stayed mostly in my head until now. Why? Well, I was several videos deep in a YouTube binge about a week and a half ago when I came across one from ScreenRant called “10 Rejected Princesses that Actually Exist” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W3PUQtHXbiE). Now seeing as I am a total sucker for a title like that, naturally I open the video. Expecting stories from different mythos and legends from around the world (like the original Little Mermaid) I was very surprised to learn that this list was mostly made up of real women from different cultures around the world. Yes, there are a few legends and myths thrown in but mostly these women actually existed.

So turns out that this video is in fact based on a book written by a guy named Jason Porath, an ex-Dreamworks animator, who, following a bet at work, decided that these women needed to have their stories told. Some time and a book deal later “Rejected Princesses” was born. A collection of 100 stories about badass women who changed their worlds. (http://www.rejectedprincesses.com/)

I’m only about half way through but the more of the book I read the more I wish someone had given me this book as a kid. Mind you, not all of these stories are 100% appropriate (some of the ones at the end of the book are 5 on a 1-5 scale for maturity.) for every little kid but the fact that this book exists and tells real stories without shying away from the real situations that these women lived through is an amazing thing. There are women of color, lesbian and bi- women and probably many more as I haven’t finished the book yet. Haha (Trying to read three books at once is not my smartest life decision.)

The older I get, the more I see things in my childhood that reinforced the more traditional male/female gender roles on me. My parents never told me I couldn’t do something just because I was a girl and they have always encouraged me to learn and do well in school, especially they encouraged my interest in science. But as things like WW and “Rejected Princesses” come to my attention I realize that just because I didn’t realize their influence was missing doesn’t mean I didn’t feel it. I remember having few role models in media and always being told to let the boys do the physical stuff instead of me.

It is not enough to simply tell girls and women they can do anything and be anything they want. We have to give them examples and role models to show that they come from a long line of capable, independent, smart, strong, badass women and the keys to the kingdom are theirs to take and explode into the world with.

#wonder woman #badass women #rejected princesses #disney

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distant-rose-archive-blog · 7 years

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Skyscraper Jones

Notes: I thank her on every single one of these and I always will because this verse wouldn’t exist without her - @welllpthisishappening. (She’s perfect so if you don’t follow her, you’re really missing out!) Anyway, I know that everyone loves Wes/is waiting for something Wes centric, but Harrison is my puppy dog and he’s slightly based upon my ridiculous younger brother who is giant. (I call him Moose.) Anyway, this one-shot is based upon the actual events involving my younger brother who everyone seemed to think was in the fifth grade instead of second grade on our first day at a new elementary school. (Little Pirates ‘verse: By the Hook, Breakfast for Boys, Pirate Halloween and Children and Understandings.) You can also read this on AO3 here: [LINK] Summary: Harrison Jones is a big kid. Five inches and fifteen pounds heavier than the other kids in Ms. Zellar’s second grade class. He’s a bit hard to miss, which is why Emma Swan can’t understand why she’s getting a phone call in the middle of day from Storybrooke Elementary informing her that her son is missing. Rating: T Word Count: 4,1000+

Harrison Liam Jones is a big kid.

But this is nothing new as he was a big baby too and that’s something Emma Swan won’t ever forget because pushing out eleven pounds and two ounces of a human being is something that deserves a mention in the Guinness Book of World Records. (Henry likes to inform her that bigger babies have been born around fifteen and sixteen pounds and she cannot help but wince. She cannot imagine pushing out something bigger than Harrison, who nearly ripped her apart and broke his collarbone on the way out.) She remembers turning to her husband not long after Harrison was taken away by the attendants and telling him if he wanted another kid, he was going to have to carry it himself because there’s no way she’s going through childbirth again. (Six months later, of course, she makes a liar out of herself when whispers in his ear to tell him she wants another. Wes is born not long after that and Beth less than two years after him. Thankfully neither kid is as big as their brother when they’re born. Wes is a respectful seven pounds and nine ounces. Beth is their tiny girl; born four pounds and eleven ounces.)

They aren’t quite sure where Harrison’s stature comes from. It’s not that Killian is particularly short, but he’s not the six feet and four inches that their pediatrician estimates their boy will be. David is tall and broad, but he’s not gigantic enough to explain why their son will be towering over them before long. All and all, they chalk it as a medical and genetic mystery, and just accept that Harrison is going to be a very big boy.

David loves it and often heckles Emma to sign him up for pee-wee football despite the fact that he’s only seven, a year or two too young to even be on the team. He’s a proud grandfather and sees so much athletic potential in Harrison who is taller than Neal now, despite the fact Neal is a good year and some months older than him.

“He’s bigger than half the fourth graders and he would be on the same team as Neal!” Her father argues, looking at her like she’s insane for saying ‘no.’

“He’s not old enough!” Emma huffs, glaring at him with her hands on her hips. This is an argument they’re had too many times. “Besides, I don’t want him getting hurt.”

“Hurt? Your son is a bear cub compared to those kids. If anyone is going to get hurt, it’s the poor quarterback who stands no chance against a kid his size. Come on, Emma, you have a baby Brian Urlacher on your hands. If Hook knew anything about football he would agree with me!”

Emma cannot help but snort. Everyone is so caught up on the size of the boy that it seems that they cannot look past it and realize that her kid isn’t just big in size, he has a big soft heart as well. Harrison is a sweet boy who wouldn’t want to hurt a fly let alone tackle another kid. He’s incredibly gentle with his younger siblings, often guiding them around and picking them up when they fall over. He’s more likely to help a kid up after being tackled than doing the tackling himself. (Her other little kiddos are different story entirely. At five, she can already tell Wes has a bit of a mean streak as well as a wily cunning that goes beyond his years while three-year-old Beth doesn’t care about anything except getting her way.) No, Harrison Jones is very much a lover, not a fighter; no matter how much of a big kid he was.

“Dad, Harrison isn’t old enough. I don’t care how big he is. We’re not signing him up for football. At least not until next year.”

“Fine! But no one would ever know! It’s not like he looks seven!”

He’s right. At seven-years-old, Harrison is four-foot, five inches and sixty-five pounds, which is five inches taller and fifteen pounds heavier than the average demographic for his age. Emma figured that this wouldn’t be a problem as long as he was a healthy and able-bodied boy until it was…

Because David is right; Harrison does not look like a seven-year-old.

Killian and Emma are finishing a follow up on a break-in at the pharmacy when Emma’s phone rings and the caller ID reveals that it’s the elementary school calling her…again. They share an exasperated look as she reaches to answer it.

“Wes?” Killian predicts with a sigh. Their youngest son has been causing some trouble in his kindergarten class. His sticky fingers are a little too sticky with his classmates’ belongings. It’s become an issue that they’re sorely hoping to nip in the butt. Everyone seems to believe Wes is emulating Killian with his thieving skills, but Emma privately sees herself in the boy; her own pickpocketing days seem to be forgotten by all but her.

“Probably,” Emma sighs before pulling up her phone. “Hello. This is Sheriff Swan.”

“Hello…Sheriff Swan…its Principal Pratt from Storybrooke Elementary…” The principal’s voice sounds more hesitant than annoyed, and something about that makes the hair on Emma’s arm raise.

“I know, Marie, you’ve called at least once a week. What did Wes do this time?” Emma asks with a sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She doesn’t even bother calling the woman by her title anymore. They talk enough to be on a first name basis, regardless of any sense of propriety that the principal has.

“It’s not Wes I’m calling about, Sheriff. It’s Harrison. He’s missing.”

Emma Swan and fear are good old friends. After living in Storybrooke for some long, it’s almost an expected part of her day to feel adrenaline kicks, shivers down her spine and to choke down all feelings of panic in order to launch herself into action, to save everyone else. What she’s feeling isn’t normal fear; it’s hysteria. She’s not facing down some nameless monster. This is her kid in trouble, her kid in danger, her kid that is missing. Every part of her is screaming and it feels like a blaring red alarm is going off in her head. She’s lived through the Final Battle and honestly, she can say, this feels worse than that. The very concept of her child being in danger is worse than any possibility of death. It is the one thing that they don’t tell you when you become a parent.

She doesn’t stand around waiting for the school to update her. She can’t. She’s the Savior and she’s a woman of action. She and her husband march into the school, war faces at the ready. They stride into Principal Pratt’s office, ignoring the squawking secretaries and administrative staff that tries to stop them. They don’t do more than yell at them to stop however. She’s the Savior and Killian is in full Hook mode, looking positively murderous. They couldn’t have stopped them if they tried.

Principal Pratt and the young woman, who Emma recognizes as Harrison’s teacher Ms. Zellar, jump as they jar open the door to Pratt’s office. Emma also wishes she had a sword so she could jab it into the desk and let Principal Pratt know exactly how angry she is.

“Where is my son?” Emma hisses as she strides over and slams her hands against the desk.

Killian settles himself against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest with the hook on display. He’s letting her handle this…for now. He’s just as upset as she is at the moment, but he’s stewing. This joke of a school administration needs to figure its shit before Killian goes off, full on Captain Hook on them. Emma would let him. Gladly.

Ms. Zellar, whose eyes were red and cheeks blotchy, starts to cry. Her entire body shakes and Principal Pratt looks helplessly between the teacher and Emma.

“I don’t know!” Ms. Zellar wails. “He went out to recess with the rest of the kids and he didn’t come back in with them! We haven’t been able to find him since!”

“My son is the biggest kid in your class! He’s like the Empire State Building compared to the rest of them! You don’t just lose the Empire State Building!” Emma replies, her voice is so loud that it could be considered yelling. It’s not yelling though. Not yet. She’s just warming up.

“With all due respect, Sheriff Swan, all the grades recess together. So Harrison isn’t as noticeable as the Empire State Building. We do have grades kindergarten through fifth grade playing outside together after all,” Principal Pratt replies, placing a hand on Ms. Zellar’s shoulder. “It’s entirely possible that Harrison could have run off without any of the staff noticing.”

“Harrison run off…” Emma repeats. The words are distasteful on her tongue. “Bullshit, Marie. Harrison has never caused any issues in his time at this school. Wes run off? I would believe that in a heartbeat because none of you seem to be able to manage my five year old. Harrison? Never.”

Emma wants to say more, but she hears Killian shift behind her and she can see the facial expressions of the two women change as he approaches. She tilts her head to the side to look at him. Killian is stalking towards the desk and though there’s a small smile on his face, there’s no joy in it. It’s a dangerous smile and it reminds her of a time long ago when he was the Dark One.

“So, correct me if I’m wrong, ladies, but from what I’m hearing, the policy of this school to bring every single child outside during a period of the day when you do not have enough adults supervising them to ensure their safety and make sure they aren’t capable of running off? In Storybrooke nonetheless where we are favored with a monster of the week?” Killian asks in a soft voice that makes a chill even run up Emma’s spine. She’s not sure these women realize exactly how angry her husband is at the moment and that they should be considering their words carefully.

“It’s been our policy as long as I can remember, Cap-Mr. Jones. The children prefer it because some of them have kids in other grades. Your own children included.”

“You know that my sons have friends in other grades, but not where my eldest is? You need to work on priorities in regards to your observation skills,” Killian responds, standing next to Emma. She grabs his hand and gives it a squeeze in solidarity.

Principal Pratt’s face colors at the comment and she opens her mouth to respond, but the door opens again and this time, it’s Mary Margaret who strides in. She looks almost as murderous as Emma and Killian, her face flushed with anger. She couldn’t have looked more threatening even if she had her bow.

“Where is my grandson?” She asks, wedging herself between Emma and Killian and placing her hands on both of their shoulders. Principal Pratt looks at a lost with how to deal with an angry Snow White, Captain Hook and Savior. Ms. Zellar looks like she wants to faint.

“Shouldn’t you be teaching fourth grade, Mrs. Nolan?” Principal Pratt responds.

“Jim is looking in on them,” Mary Margaret replies. “I know how to responsibly take care of my students unlike some teachers. Now answer the question. Where is my grandson?”

“We’re looking for him, Mary Margaret, I promise,” Principal Pratt responds, looking very haggard at having to deal with all three of them. “We’ve got Mike, Isodora, James and Ava all looking for him.”

“And yet, you’re both in here,” Mary Margaret responds. “A child is missing and you’re in your office, doing nothing. This time could be better spent looking for Harrison.”

Emma’s heart warms a bit at the conviction and accusation in her mother’s voice. Her mother is risking her career at the moment by talking this way to her boss, but Emma loves her more for it. Their family is more important to her mother than her job. If she wasn’t so keyed up about Harrison being missing, she would have hugged her.

Principal Pratt looks dumbfounded that Mary Margaret is speaking to her in such a way. Her mouth opens and closes a few times without actually uttering anything. Ms. Zellar’s face, which was red before, is now closer to a shade of purple and she keeps her eyes trained on the floor as if she wanted it to swallow her up.

“I…I…” Principal Pratt is lost for words. “You’re right. We should help look for the boy.”

“Not the boy,” Killian hisses. “Harrison. He’s not the boy. He’s not any boy. He’s my son and you will remember that.”

Principal Pratt’s face goes white at Killian’s tone and Emma squeezes his hand, debating to herself whether she could tell him to dial it down a notch or kiss him for being so fiercely protective of their son. Mary Margaret gives him a look of approval and nods in agreement. All five of them are about to walk out the door when there is a commotion outside the office. All the secretaries are buzzing about something. Emma and Mary Margaret exchange a look while Killian pushes open a door.

A young man no older than twenty-seven is in engaged with an angry verbal spar with one of the secretaries. Not only is he angrily spitting at the harassed looking women, but he is also holding up Emma and Killian’s son Harrison by his ear and it’s obvious by the redness of the appendage and the tears in Harrison’s eyes that the man had dragged him into the office by it.

“I need to talk to Principal Pratt about this punk right now! This kid thinks he’s funny! Trying to play off like he’s a second grader! The dumbest ploy I’ve heard to get out of a test! He needs to learn a lesson! You can’t pull this kind of stunt on a substitute teacher!” The man shouts at the secretary.

Mary Margaret lets out a horrified sound. The secretaries, the man and Harrison, turn to see the five out of them standing outside of Pratt’s office.

“Mom!” Harrison shouts and yanks himself free of the man’s grasp, flinching as he did so. He runs towards Emma at full speed and Emma gathers her big little boy in her arms, tugging him as close as she can. He’s honestly too big at held at this point but Emma doesn’t care. Relief is a palpable thing and Emma feels like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. Harrison is safe.

Killian darts past her at a speed that Emma hadn’t realized that he was capable of until that moment. The young man’s eyes bulge in alarm as Killian approaches, taking a step back in hopes of getting away from him. Killian isn’t deterred, he lifts the man up by his hook and slams the man against the wall. The administration gasps. Principal Pratt moves forward to intervene, but Mary Margaret places an arm in front of her to stop her from interfering.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Killian snarls, barring his teeth like some feral creature. The muscles in his jaw and neck twitch under the strain of his rage. “And what makes you think it’s okay to manhandle MY SON!?”

“You okay, Kid?” Emma asks Harrison in a murmur, gently running her hand over his back in a smoothing motion. Her arms ache from holding him up, but he deserves to be held and after the sheer terror she felt while he was missing, she’s reluctant to let him go. She frowns at the redness of his ear. It looks like it hurts like hell. They might have to stop at the nurse’s office for an ice pack.

“He didn’t believe me, Mom,” Harrison whispers. “He didn’t believe I was in Ms. Zellar’s class.”

“The kid was trying to get out of a test and thought he could pull a fast one on me,” the man wheezes out.

Emma’s certain if she wasn’t so focused on her son at the moment, she would have hit the guy over the head because he just doesn’t know her kid. Harrison, without question, is the easiest of her children to handle aside from Henry who is now grown and in college. Wes is the one who would pull a fast one on a teacher. Beth, once she finally is old enough, will probably try to pull fast ones too. She does a marvelous job hoodwinking Killian as is. Harrison is the one most likely to rat someone out because, despite his age, he has an extreme sense of justice to him that makes his grandfather proud.

“And that gives you an excuse to manhandle a child?” Mary Margaret demands. Despite the fact she’s wearing frilly pastels, she looks positively terrifying like she’s ready to pull out her bow and use the man for target practice.

“Mr. Jones could you kindly put Mr. Abad down so we can get to the bottom of this business?” Principal Pratt asks in a tired tone. She sounds like she’s in desperate need of a drink. Emma doesn’t blame her. She wants one too.

Killian acquiesces to her demands, reluctantly pulling away from Mr. Abad, but not without ripping the collar of his shirt. Young Mr. Abad looks torn between indignation and terror as he regards Killian with a wary eye. Killian continues to glower at him, looking like he would delight in nothing more than ripping the man to shreds for touching their son. If Harrison wasn’t clinging so hard to Emma, she’s sure she might have slung at the man.

“You have the floor for the moment, Mr. Abad,” Principal Pratt says with another sigh. “I suggest you explain yourself and your actions before Mr. Jones, Mrs. Nolan and Sheriff Swan get impatient with you.”

“Well,” Mr. Abad starts, licking his lip as his eyes dart back and forth between Emma, Killian, Mary Margaret and Principal Pratt. His pupils remind Emma of a pinball machine with how fast they move. “I caught this kid-“

“Harrison,” Mary Margaret interrupts, crossing her arms in front of her chest and glowering at him. “Not this kid. Harrison. We know our students’ names at this school. Did you even ask?”

“No, but-”Mary Margaret doesn’t let him finish again.

“You didn’t ask? You brought him to the principal’s office but you didn’t bother to learn his name? Do you even know any of your students? Did you even do roll call? Attendance? Because if you did, you might have learned Harrison doesn’t belong in fifth grade and you would have saved everyone here an hour of panic!”

“Well, I didn’t know if he was lying to me or if any of the other punks were! I mean the kid said he was in the second grade for Pete’s sake! He tried as far as to go in through the second grade doors when he came back from recess. That’s ridiculous!”

“Mr. Abad,” Ms. Zellar speaks for the first time. Her face is still red, but Emma is now certain it’s from anger now instead of embarrassment. “Harrison is one of my students. He is the second grade and I’ve been frantic for the last hour because you took one of my students without even consulting anyone!”

“I didn’t think I needed to consult anyone on taking a fifth grade student! The kid doesn’t look like a second grader! If that kid is a second grader, then he’s the mammoth of all second graders! The beanstalk of the second grade!”

“We prefer to call him the Empire State Building of the second grade. Skyscraper Jones when we’re being clever, thank you very much,” Emma replies, glaring at him and giving her son, the aforementioned Empire State Building of the second grade, a kiss on the forehead. Harrison cuddles his face into her neck like he does at home when they’re watching a movie and he’s getting second-hand embarrassment from a particularly dumb scene. Typical of her sweet boy. Wes, Beth and even Henry would be straight up angry and kicking up a storm of indignation to be in this situation, but Harrison? He’s just embarrassed.

“How are you even a teacher?” Mary Margaret says, still going for the kill. “You don’t take attendance. You don’t know who are your students and who aren’t. Oh! You call the students “little punks” and you manhandled my grandson in front of the entire administration staff. Seriously, how did you get a teaching license?”

“Yeah, this is a public school. If you want to pull that kind of stuff, go to a private Catholic school. You’ll fit right in,” Emma replies because she can’t help herself. Mr. Abad is a young teacher (soon to ex-teacher) but he reminds her of all the nuns she dealt with when she was put in Catholic school by the Smiths in Montana.

Mr. Abad seems to sense that he’s in a world of trouble at the moment and makes the intelligent decision not to reply to Mary Margaret or Emma. He does however keep his eyes trained on Killian’s hook as if he is just waiting for it to gut him. Killian, of course, who notices the look, offers him a smirk and continues to look at him with murder in his eyes.

“Mr. Abad, I think it’s time for us to discuss your future as a substitute for Mrs. Decker’s class and that you give Ms. Zellar an apology for this…situation,” Principal Pratt says finally, gesturing for Mr. Abad to join her in her office. Mr. Abad’s face blanches, but he enters the office quickly as if trying to get away from Emma, Mary Margaret and Killian as fast as possible. Smart man.

“You will receive a formal apology from the school in the mail and acknowledgement of Mr. Abad’s termination in regard to this incident,” Principal Pratt says in a weary tone as she regards Emma with a tired look. “I’m sorry for this situation.”

“If it’s all the same to you, we’re going to take Harrison home for the rest of the day,” Emma replies, silently challenging the woman to protest the course of action.

“Of course,” she replies, obviously not willing to argue with Emma. “He’s had a trying day.”

“What do you say, bud? You, me and Dad get ice cream at Granny’s?” Emma says to her son, meeting Killian’s eyes over Harrison’s dark hair as she always says when she calls him ‘Dad.’ They have a seven-year-old, a five-year-old, a three-year-old and he arguably helped raise her college sophomore, but it still brings out an unnamable emotion when she calls him that.

“Yeah…I would like that,” Harrison replies, voice still muffled by Emma’s neck.

Killian, who still looks pissed off about the whole fiasco, softens a bit. It’s as if the reminder that he’s father pacifies the rage beast that was dying to be set loose today. He steps forward and takes Harrison from Emma’s arms, hefting their son over his head so Harrison is sitting on his shoulders. It’s a picture that it is both absurd and impossibly adorable since Harrison strongly resembles his father despite his stature; their facial structure near identical, the only key differences being Harrison’s green eyes, chubby child cheeks and more pointed chin. Emma smiles and shakes her head, mainly because Harrison is far too big now to be receiving rides on his father’s shoulders. Killian is relatively strong, especially for a man with one hand, but she knows he’s going to be sore as well later.

“I will see you later at Granny’s?” Mary Margaret asks with a smile. All evidence of her previous ire is erased by a picture of pleasantness. Emma doesn’t know how her mother pulls it off.

“Sure,” Emma replies, chuckling as she watches Killian squat down so he can both himself and Harrison through the doorway. If he drops their son, he’s sleeping on the couch for a week. “We’ll see you there. Hopefully without another mashed potato incident.”

Mary Margaret laughs.

“Yes, extra eyes on the boys is always necessary,” she says with a smile. “But let’s worry about that later. Go enjoy your ice cream. Give Harrison some extra sprinkles courtesy of Grandma.”

“Done,” Emma replies, following her husband and her son out the door.

Harrison ends up getting only extra sprinkles, but hot fudge, whipped cream and a cherry on top of the mountain size portion of vanilla ice cream. Granny defends the decision by stating that big boys need big portions.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs crew #cs #swan jones family #dad!killian #daddy!killian #momma!emma #cs babies #cs fanfiction #ouat ff #harrison jones #little pirates #my fic #my shit #little pirates fic #skyscaper jones

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helloworlddemo1122-yahoopar-blog · 7 years

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EXCLUSIVE: How ‘American Gods’ Producer Bryan Fuller Changed the Course of Kristin Chenoweth’s TV Career

A magnetic and Tony Award-winning star of Broadway, it only made sense that Kristin Chenoweth would bring her charm to TV. After a false start with the 2001 NBC sitcom Kristin, which was canceled after six episodes, the 4-foot-11 actress, who currently plays Easter on Starz’s hit adaptation of Neil Gaiman's American Gods, eventually found her stride on The West Wing, on which she played Annabeth Schott during the NBC drama’s final two seasons.

But Chenoweth’s TV career really started with Pushing Daisies, from American Gods executive producer Bryan Fuller. “He changed my path,” she says of Fuller, who was known at the time for creating Dead Like Me and serving as executive producer on Heroes. Soon after she quoted Hannibal Lecter in a phone conversation with the producer, Chenoweth -- a self-proclaimed sci-fi and horror geek -- and Fuller formed a bond that led to one of the best roles of her career. “That was it; we were off to the races.”

Premiering on ABC in October 2007, the dramedy starred Lee Pace as Ned, a pie-maker with the ability to bring dead things back to life, including his childhood crush Chuck (Anna Friel). With private investigator Emerson Cod (Chi McBride) and co-worker Olive Snook (Chenoweth), Ned solved murders in addition to running the Pie Hole restaurant. Olive was obsessed with and hopelessly in love with Ned, despite his love for Chuck. “I look at scripts like music, and it was [Fuller’s] own music. He has a unique voice that speaks to people,” Chenoweth says of the short-lived series, which she adds was ahead of its time and not on the right network. “A great one, just not the right one.”

MORE: 'American Gods' Star Ricky Whittle on Finding Karma After Drama on 'The 100' Set

While it was canceled after two seasons, Pushing Daisies earned Chenoweth an Outstanding Supporting Actress Emmy, which she tearfully accepted while offering herself up to 24, Mad Men and The Office. “I’m unemployed now,” she said at the ceremony.

No, none of those shows called. “I got other things,” she says, adding that Glee, on which she played a high school dropout, was already in the works. Pulling double duty on Pushing Daisies and Ryan Murphy’s high school dramedy, she earned her second of three back-to-back Primetime Emmy nominations.

While Chenoweth returned to Broadway in the years since she appeared on Pushing Daisies, she’s also become a reliable TV guest star, having notably appeared on The Good Wife, voiced a gecko on BoJack Horseman and recently played Velma Von Tussle in NBC’s Hairspray Live!, a role that once again is earning Chenoweth Emmy attention. “If you drop your baton, if you don’t do your high kicks, it’s on camera,” she says of the live musical event, adding: “I did the whole twirl thing and a high kick. You just hit your mark and sing your butt off.”

She could have even been on Fuller's Hannibal, were it not for her Tony-nominated role in On the Twentieth Century. “Bryan wrote a part for me,” she says of the lasting relationship she formed with the producer, who eventually got her back into his fold with American Gods.

The role of Easter is a bit of a boiler. Chenoweth plays a god forced to share her namesake holiday with Jesus who is eventually roped into Wednesday’s (Ian McShane) ongoing battle for status and power. She puts on a good front, but like many gods on the series, there’s a dark side to her. It's perhaps the darkest role Chenoweth has played on TV. “What’s fun about it is you don’t see it coming,” she says. (Watch an exclusive clip from Sunday’s season one finale, which sees Easter really unraveling.)

But what really makes the experience special is being reunited with Fuller. “It feels so good; it’s correct for me,” Chenoweth says.

“Very few times do you have a writer that goes, ‘I can write for you.’ But when you get that person that gets you -- on paper Bryan Fuller and Kristin Chenoweth don’t fit together, yet we’re together -- I just look at it as a blessing.”

#_revsp:new_provider_with_logo_342 #_lmsid:a0VK0000001yfWcMAI #_uuid:120442f7-f48f-336b-9c39-63ff2bdf7eba

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yoonia · 7 years

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About Time // Part 5

Character: Jungkook x reader / Jimin x reader (feat. BTS)

↳ Type/Genre/words: Angst, Alternate Universe (Time Travel!au/Time Leap!au, Soulmate!au) / 9,135 words

↳ Prompts: “What if you find your soulmate… at the wrong time?” - Lauren Kate, Passion

↳ Summary: Be careful for what you wish for, because you may never know how to deal with them once it comes true. What would you do when your wish for a second chance actually came true? But was it really a fulfilled wish? Too many questions lie when it actually happened. Were they real memories? Or perhaps a part of a past life? Was it only a dream all along? Will everything be different this time?

↳ Warnings: Mentions of cancer

↳ Author’s Note: Starting from this chapter ahead timeline will flip back and forth between the current life and some flashbacks of the past life experiences that the OC had gone through. To make things less confusing, I will add the timeline info aside from location and year, so you can differentiate them in case the chapter has two different timelines at the same time. Thank you for reading. I hope the slow plot on this chapter won’t bore or confuse you^^

↳ ⤎ Previous Chapter | series index: about time | Next Chapter ⇢

—Present life, year 2015—

They had warned me about the struggles I had to face against the illness, against the demons that were growing inside my body. But thankfully, I was in good condition at the moment of the surgery. In addition to how early it was found, I was able to beat them almost completely through the first surgery. I had even survived the second one which took place months after.

The recovery process, however, was a pain in the butt.

Not to mention the long list of the procedures I had to endure to thoroughly clear those demons out of my system.

I hated chemotherapy. I hated what they did to my body. But at least I got to skip the radiation process, which sounded more terrifying to go through than the other ones.

But that was only because it would not be the first time I had to endure that process. There was a part of my brain that still remembered how it felt, even if my body itself had never experienced them—well, not in this lifetime, that is. Not yet.

Days, weeks, months passed by until the hospital gave me a green light, showing me the latest test results and radioscopic pictures showing me that there was no longer any tracks of masses found in me. Although that did not necessarily mean they had let me go without a warning, a long lecture of the one thing that would possibly happen to me unless I undergo a routine health check and follow up treatments every month. Everything that was necessary to make sure that I would not fall into a relapse.

Little did they knew how much I knew a thing or two about them.

That first year was rough. Having to face recovery while keeping up with school was a long and troublesome battle. Everyone insisted that I took a break from school until I got better, but I refused to take my time for granted, insisting to catch up with my study—which, to be honest, was hard but not impossible to do.

I was living in the body of the model student in school. And since my current brain still held the knowledge of my recent studying life—regardless of having the memory of an old housewife sealed in the back of my mind—I could still catch up with a lot of things. And thanks to the help of Taehyung and my other classmates who stayed by my side during my stay in the hospital with piles of school books and after-school lectures, I could still graduate at the same time as I did on my old life.

Which led me to the day I finally started the new step in my new life.

College freshman year.

I was standing in my new dorm room, staring out the window with my mind wandering back in time. Everything that had happened for the past few years came running through my head. Events regarding my journey against the illness had been hard and time felt like an eternity and never-ending when I had to go through all the hardship. But now when I have passed all of that, all of the things I went through seemed like a dream. Like glimpses of short movies. Yet thanks to the past hardship itself, I was able to push back all of the memories from my past life and seal them away momentarily, giving me a chance to focus on my current life, focus on getting better.

They would still come back to me occasionally like pieces of puzzles. Each piece appearing much clearer than the other as they came and went. But I had decided to not let them completely control me, as I had decided to not let the chance of my new life for granted, to not cling onto my past life and gain the best I could of what I was having at this moment.

And now that my life was becoming a lot more in peace, I should be prepared to have those memories coming back to me to remind me of why I came back in time.

The sound of rushed footsteps slightly dragging themselves on the floor, followed by the sounds of ragged breaths and deep grunts grabbed my attention. I turned around to see my brother and my best friend passing through the door, each one of them carrying a huge box on each of their arms before dropping them down on the floor.

“Ah, finally—” Hoseok roughly groaned, bending down with his palms resting on his knees as he tried to catch his breaths. Taehyung, who came in with the same state as he did, flopped down on the bed, sprawling his sore limbs over the clean mattress as he lied down on his back.

“How can you carry more boxes of books than your clothes?” Hoseok complained between short breaths, straightening his body and placing his hands on his waist to look at me. “Should I be concerned about your social life?”

Taehyung chuckled from behind him, keeping his eyes still spacing out at the ceiling. “Don’t worry. She still has me around to have fun with,” he said with a geeky grin on his face.

My brother turned his body slightly to glance over at him, sighing to disagree. “Ugh—Great, now I’m getting more worried.”

“Oh, come on, Hoseok,” I chuckled while walking closer to my brother, placing my palms on his shoulder to make him turn around and look at me. “You should be thankful that you have a sister who is a top-class nerd, who only hangs out with the world’s best geek. It saves you from the trouble of kicking assholes out of my bed, or pushing away fuckboys that would dare to come closer.”

“I was actually looking forward to that,” he nonchalantly said to me with a playful frown. And then he laughed, wriggling his eyebrows as he spoke, “That way I can show people what kind of reliable big brother I can be.”

“Not in this lifetime, big brother,” I told him with a wink.

“So what’s your plan this semester?”

It was a warm and bright day, when Taehyung and I laid down on the clean grass side by side, with our eyes looking up at the bright sky to watch the clouds. We had our stomach full from early lunch, droopy eyes from attending our morning classes, and was so close to falling asleep on one of the quietest parks in our campus.

“Honestly? I have no idea,” I answered him then, only when I could roughly guess what he was actually referring to.

He shifted next to me, turning to lie down on his side to face me. “So are you totally going to nerd out all through college just to avoid this allegedly future husband of yours?”

I pursed my lips, shrugging at him as I tried to act as if I didn’t really care. “Maybe? Or I can just at least avoid getting into public places and crowds. But then again—” I sighed. I had been avoiding on planning out my next steps, only focusing on the things that were happening right in front of my eyes. So when I finally had to face the most significant period of time which I strongly believed might influence my fate, I felt completely lost.

I was clearly clueless.

There was something that I could never really tell Taehyung honestly. It was the fact that whenever I closed my eyes, I could picture glimpses of how I was going to meet him. Each piece of the memory came to me at one night and I had Taehyung helped me put those pieces together,—or at least, parts of them—until I could replay them in my head whenever I needed a few reminders of him.

There was a party. With loud music, hot bodies dancing in a dim-lit room, brushing and bumping at each other. The air was filled with the scent of cigarette, booze, and sweat. The image of him walking towards me in long strides was picture-perfect, with his body standing upright and a warm smile as he asked me, “Are you alright?” as if I was a delicate flower.

Every other detail that came to me had been too vague to remember. But I remembered his voice.

The sound of his gentle voice as he spoke to me against the music, “Let me get you a drink.”

The gentle palm he placed on my back when he whispered close, “Stay by my side, okay?”

More details had come to me one at a time on different occasions. Some had even managed to awaken my senses to remember what I was supposed to be feeling on that eventful night; how his warm body was pressed on mine when we danced together, how my heart fluttered by his touches and at the look in his eyes when he was staring at me closely.

Whenever I recalled every single scene in my mind, my body would immediately start reacting as if I was reliving the whole thing.

I could not exactly remember when and where, and on which party would I finally see him. But I remembered his face, his hair, his voice so vividly. and I had always feared for what I would feel if I ever had any chance to actually meet him in person. Of what would I do if our encounter would ever become a reality.

I opened my eyes again when I heard Taehyung’s voice. “You can hide away in solitude to avoid meeting this supposedly future husband you were anticipating to see and I can understand perfectly the reason why you would do so. But I should probably remind you, that if you do just that, hiding and running away from all the possibilities, then you might also lose any opportunity to find the one that has been in your dreams.”

The one in my dreams. I looked away when another image came to mind. Another person, another blurry face, another part of that life which had also been coming back through my dreams to remind me that he also existed. Assuming he really was there somewhere.

“Guess things aren’t going to be all smooth and lovely, huh?” I sighed. I finally pushed myself up to sit on the grass, groaning as I moved my tired limbs on the hard soil beneath me. The fatigue went away at the same time those images faded from my memory, yet I still had to pierce my eyes to adjust to the bright sun above our heads.

“When did it ever?” I heard Taehyung humming next to me, while I chose to say nothing when I tried to memorise anything I could think of about him.

“If only I remember more of him.”

“Jimin? What do you remember then? All we ever talked about is Jeon Jungkook. I feel like I can probably point him out in the crowds before you can do it yourself after how many times you have described him to me,” he chuckled, earning my own laughter to join his. “Do you think that he is the reason why you came back in time? Jimin, I mean.”

“I honestly don’t know, Taehyung. I really don’t want to assume anything yet since I still can’t remember the last parts of my life before the leap happened. I can barely remember him, only by name and by—” The memory of him slipping away from my hands came flashing at the back of my mind. I could feel the pain and misery that was left behind, and the loss of not having him by my side. Even if I could not remember every other detail of what actually happened.

And I have always failed in finding the answer, no matter what I had done to force myself to remember.

“All I know is that I don’t remember seeing any memory of him and anything regarding to my college life happening together. So we probably would not be meeting each other yet anytime soon.”

Taehyung sat up next to me, wrapping his arms around his knees and leaning his head back. The scrunched nose and creased brows showed me that he was trying to help me think. “Do you not remember where he went to college? You said you can remember some of the things you talked about with him.”

I shook my head. “He is in this city. That part I know well, but I can’t remember where. I just have this strong hunch saying that he isn’t here.”

“I still think—” he said with pursed lips. “What if you are supposed to find him?”

“But how? I can’t remember where or how—” I groaned, running my fingers through my tangled hair before pulling them out of anger. “I am starting to hate all of this.”

“Why? You loved reading mystery and thriller novels since high school, don’t you think it’s thrilling to find out the truth?”

I scowled at him. “Reading thriller stories and actually living in them are two completely different matters, Taehyung.”

He laughed before playfully shrugging. “I still think that all of the mysteries and theories we’ve been making are so insane, I’m just interested to find out what’s going to happen. Besides, didn’t you say that everything is already so different? Perhaps many others around us have changed already before you even start doing anything about it. Perhaps everything about your life now and everything around it is also going to run differently than how they were in your past life.”

I kept silent as I stared at him, letting his words to sink in while silently accepting them. Because maybe, maybe he was right.

“You will find him. If you are meant to find each other, then you will.”

Basically, the solid plan I had in mind was for me to live in solitude during freshman year. Through the pieces of memories which I had and recorded on Taehyung’s notes, we were able to conclude that I had a fair amount of fun filled with nights of college parties and coming back into dorm highly intoxicated with alcohol and sticky hair smelled of smoke. All of that happened during my first year alone, the kind of life I had chosen as a personal mission to avenge the life I had as a model student during high school.

So since I decided to make a big change, I have decided that it would be the first thing in my life I was about to change.

Which confirmed that yes, I was nerding out.

I spent my first semester locking myself up in my dorm most of the times, limiting my social circle in university to only conclude my classmates, my roommate, and Taehyung only. With a few additional visits by Hoseok on weekends when he had no plans or no girls to hook up with.

Most of my days would consist of going to classes, to do my part-time jobs in the afternoons, then later hang out in the common room with my dorm mates or at a coffee shop with Taehyung, before returning to my dorm room at night to study or finish my assignments.

I avoided attending parties, either those which were held in frat houses or dorms, or other hang out places within campus proximity. I even locked myself away from the ones that had ever been held in my own dorm building. I never really minded the noises and the crowds hanging on my floor during those nights, only because I refused to care. There were other ways in which I was still able to enjoy myself during those nights. One of which would be how my roommate would be so kind as to go back and forth to bring me drinks without having me leave my solitude.

At first, she had done it only to lure me out of my hiding, so she could drag me out into joining the rouse. But as her efforts had always failed so miserably, as I had always so stubbornly refused to walk out the door without ever refusing the alcohol being sent to me, she finally gave up trying.

“At least you can still become a part of the crowd this way, and I can still make sure that I won’t be the only one waking up with a massive hangover in the morning,” she told me once, while handing me a plastic glass filled with questionable mix of alcohol when our floor had turned into a makeshift rave party joint.

“Are going to keep on doing this then? Hide yourself from human civilisation until graduation?” Taehyung asked me once we found a spare time to hang out.

The finals were right in the corner and he had come to pick me up after I finished my class to drag me to the nearest cafeteria, since I kept missing lunch every time I stayed up the night before to finish my assignments.

“No, of course not,” I sighed, walking by his side and keeping my eyes on the students grouping around us as we walked by. “I just thought that I should make the most of it while I can. Get better grades, graduate faster. Besides, I don’t always hide away, you know. I go out too—occasionally.”

“You do?” Taehyung scoffed, glancing at me with quirked brows. “To where?”

I pursed my lips. “The library—” I hesitantly answered, before we fell into a fit of giggles. “Alright, I’ll change things up in the next semester. I promise. I just wanted to give my all in this semester and enjoy college life while I can.”

“Yeah, you should. You need to enjoy your youth, before your time runs out,” he said, smacking his lips before wrapping his arms around my shoulder and urged me to walk faster with him. “Normally, we get to hear people would say, ‘Stop taking your life for granted, you only live once’. But I keep reminding myself that I can’t really say that to you, can I?”

That had me laughing for a moment. The irony of it could never escape me. I let him drag me with him on the pathway before pressing my body to his to push him away. “No, you can still say that to me. I don’t think this whole repeating my life thing is something that will permanently happen. At least, I hope not.”

I could barely make sense of it by living through it once. Will it make even more sense if things keep repeating itself? More importantly, would I have known it if I had repeated my life cycle before? And would I ever know it happening if it ever repeated itself again?

“Good—” He said, pulling my body back to him and practically started dragging me as we kept walking ahead. “Then I say we should start our mission to find Prince Charming soon once this period is over. Right, Comrade?”

“Aye—” I said, grinning as I let him drag me around. Not letting him know how terrified I was towards everything that I was about to encounter ahead in time.

Eventually, the first semester came to an end rather quickly, with its exams being uneventful and felt like hell.

But I survived.

Yet the habit of letting my school projects and my study to take control over my life had grown too deep in me, I just could not help myself but continue being the total nerd that I was when the next term started. Whenever my roommate looked over at me, I would be drowned in books and papers, and lots of times being surrounded by all kinds of drawing utensils as I focused on finishing my assignments. And whenever Taehyung came over to see me, I would have bags under my eyes, evidence of the late nights studying I constantly had going on.

The sound of a deep sigh pulled my attention away from the textbook in my hand, the one that had me distracted and allowed me to ignore my surroundings. It was actually a beautiful day; with the warm breeze around me, the comfy grass beneath me, and the people lying around, lounging on the park between classes to enjoy the sun. I looked up and met Taehyung’s eyes that were already locked on me, no expressions on his face whatsoever as he studied me closely.

“What?” I asked him.

“Watching you frustrates me,” he sighed, pouting at me. “For how long are you going to keep this up, really?”

I pursed my lips, closing my book shut and tossed it away to face him. “Is it so wrong that I just love studying?”

“It won’t be if it’s the truth,” he snapped at me while scrunching nose, as if the thought of me being in love with studying was a bit repulsive.

“But it is the truth,” I answered him. “I just enjoy studying really, really well.”

He kept his gaze on me with raised brows but no answer. And I could only sigh in defeat, knowing that he could read me so well. Too well, in fact. “Okay. Only half of that was true. Stop reading my mind,” I groaned, shoving him away until he fell back on the grass with a grin.

“I can’t help it. You are so predictable,” he laughed while sitting back up. “Okay, but seriously, why are you hiding? Are you afraid of finding—well, whichever is the one you are avoiding in seeing?”

Biting my lips, I released a deep sigh when I could feel the one thing that had been there inside my heart the whole time I have been going through all of this. A pure, deep hesitance.

“I’m afraid of a lot of things, Taehyung. I’m afraid that I will only end up reliving the same life, the same story. I’m afraid that I will end up being unhappy no matter what I do. I’m afraid to see what would happen if I ever find either of them. I’ve been afraid, all this time—because I honestly still can’t make sense of what the hell is going on with me and why I’m going through all of this. I don’t even know if these things are even real.”

Taehyung only gave me a smile and tilted his head. There was not a hint of surprise in his eyes for he had heard me talking about these things over and over again throughout the past few years. Not only did he know the circumstances I was in, but he also knew my insecurities. Every bit of it that was present in me.

“I know that you are afraid,” he said with nonchalance and a pure smug on his face for having been able to drag the truth out of me. “Why do you think I’m staying around all these years to help you? And if this isn’t real, then what is it? A dream? A very long, exhausting dream, and I’m merely a figment of it to keep you company?”

I tilted my head back, groaning at the way the frustration was starting to give me headaches. “I don’t know, I’m just lost.”

I have always been.

“Then just do as I always say. Enjoy it. Embrace the life you have now,” he said, with a shrug. “You were the one who said that you were going to do just that, so stop hiding yourself behind your projects all the time. Time is still running and you just need to keep up with it.”

I grinned at him. “Yeah, you’re right,” I said, and I could not help but laugh at myself. “Thanks for reminding me how I keep taking my words back. I somehow feel quite stupid now.”

“No, you’re not.”

My eyes fell on his warm smile and I felt my hesitance slowly fading away. “Alright, I won’t stop you from being such a nerd, but you really do need to start having fun. And stop exhausting yourself up by thinking the worst of things. Don’t you remember how you relapsed at our final exam back in school because of all the stress?”

“Oh, right—”

“Don’t drain yourself up with negative thoughts. Come with me to hang out this weekend. I won’t take you to any frat parties if you don’t want to go, but at least leave your books for a while and have fun.”

I had no other choice but to agree. What other choices would I have when he reminded me about my last relapse right before I graduated high school? I remembered how my body had given up after I studied too hard that I was missing sleep. It had gotten so bad that I had to return to the hospital for treatments and was kept under observation just in case my illness had come back. It never did. But one could never let their guards down, especially when they already faced the consequences once.

I tried to slow my pace down after I promised him—and to myself—to do so that day. I started to get more relaxed, spent more time out of the dorms and away from studying at times, either with Taehyung or my other close friends—yes, I managed to expand my social circle and gained more friends to hang out with.

Until came the time when I had to return to the usual pace of hardworking and intense studying.

It was the longest two weeks of my life, right at the end of the school year. Piles of assignments and projects needed to be done on time, pages of textbooks to be read, and I have had the least of sleep ever since I woke up in the present life years ago. Taehyung’s warning that had been my anchor was forced to be pushed aside and forgotten when I was constantly being chased by deadlines. Along with tight schedules from the courses I had taken as all projects were due before the final exam. All happening in the same period of time.

By the time exam and project submission period came, I had spent the last three days straight working in the studio on campus to finish a set of drawings meant to be submitted during the exam week. I could not take them back to the dorm, afraid that the noises and parties would distract me, or that I would be clumsy enough to ruin my drawings before I had a chance to finish them. And I would not return to the dorm until close to midnight, not until my roommate had gotten so worried that left me dozens of messages on my phone telling me to come home to sleep.

At the last morning before the deadline, I woke up feeling drained with fatigue and stress. But I dragged myself out of bed anyway, since it would be the last chance I had to use the studio before the term ended.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look so good.” My roommate, Jisoo, had stopped me before leaving the room. She had both of her hands placed on her waist as she was ready to scold me from overworking myself.

“I’m okay.” I gave her a small smile, forcing back the exhaustion at the back of my head so she would let me go. “Just need some food and coffee, and maybe a quick nap at the campus.” I stretched out my limbs while standing, before grabbing my bag and jacket to leave.

“Wait—” she said, frowning. “Are you going to be in the studio the whole day again? Can’t you rest for just a day?”

“I would, but then I won’t finish it on time. The studio will not be available during exam week, and I can’t finish the drawing using my small writing desk,” I explained to her, pointing at the clustered mess happening on top of my desolated study desk. “Don’t worry, I won’t push myself too much today. I’m almost done with it anyway, so I can return to the dorm earlier than usual.”

She pouted, but gave in anyway. “Just let me know if you’re not feeling well and I’ll come to pick you up, okay? And make sure you don’t miss lunch again.”

I smiled at her and nodded. I would have hugged her to reassure her if I could, but then she might notice how tired I actually was and stop me from leaving again.

“Sure. Don’t worry, your name is on my speed dial,” I said, giving her a wink as I walked past her on my way through the door. I made haste to avoid seeing the worried look in her eyes and only to bid my goodbyes to her by looking over my shoulder. “See you later, Jisoo! I’ll call you once I’m done!”

The day passed by so quickly.

Or perhaps I was too focused on work to pay attention to how time went by until it was past afternoon. There were only two other students staying in the studio other than myself. Yet they had both stopped working since lunchtime to have their much-needed break, while I was still bent over my drawing table, drowning myself in my work even after lunch break was over.

“_____, take a break for a moment and eat something.”

I raised my head to look away from my work and look at both my classmates, Hara and Jiyoung, sitting on the floor across the room with crossed legs. They surrounded by empty boxes of snacks they had just finished eating. Not entirely the perfect choice of lunch, but at least they were eating something.

At that moment, I started getting a bit dizzy. I could not tell whether they were from having my head down all the time to concentrate on working, or perhaps from hunger. Briefly looking down on my watch, I saw the time and had decided that perhaps it was the latter.

“I only need to finish a bit more and I’ll be done,” I sighed briefly while looking at the girls who were lounging sleepily on the floor—one with her left hand covered in faint colours of ink from her drawings, and the other had a few fingers from her right hand covered in red spots from holding a pen for too long. “I brought some sandwiches earlier so you guys can eat up ahead.”

Neither of the girls answered me, but I saw how Hara raised her eyebrows before standing up to approach me. “______, are you okay? You look really pale.”

“I’m alright.”

I heard a sigh coming from her as I started to turn back around and continue working. “No, seriously, _____. Come on and rest for a while, you don’t look so good. We still have a few hours to go anyway,” she said.

At that moment, I was already starting to feel as if everything around me was spinning. My head was having a constant throbbing which had even started to cloud my hearings. So I finally gave in, answering her with, “Alright. I should probably eat something anyway,” before straightening my back and stood from my seat.

I should have known and understood how my body would react by now. And I should have known not to make any sudden movements when I knew there was something wrong with my head.

But I did it anyway.

And I could not stop myself from falling to the ground as darkness took over me.

—Present life. The infirmary, year 2015—

It had been a while since these things ever happened to me.

I had never fainted after my treatments had ended, and I had never failed to control my strength for years after. I suppose, it had made me a bit reckless, thinking I was strong enough to not let them come back to me again. Not the cancer. But having loss of consciousness and being taken away by the dark that used to scare the hell out of me.

Thankfully, I was not completely out of it this time. I was not completely powerless.

I could hear the faint sound of Hara and Jiyoung screaming out my name. And I heard them screaming out for help. I could hear the rustling sounds of people surrounding me as I lied unconscious on the cold floor. I could still sense how cold the floor was, the flow of breeze when someone lifted me up, and how I was being carried by a pair of powerful hands.

That was when the darkness thickened and my dreams started to come back.

My faint memories always came back through these dreams. They came as pieces of fragments that I would later have to put together as I woke up, sometimes they kept repeating themselves until they were recorded at the back of my mind for me to recollect them later. This time, all I saw were flashes of white, a crescent-like eye smile, a soft kiss, a warm embrace from two strong hands which had the scent of antibiotics, and distant voices of hushed whispers. The sound of the whispers increased the more I listened to it, yet the words were muddled together as they came one another. Until finally they slowly subsided and turned faint, and I could hear only one voice remained.

“If only I found you first.”

I woke up with a start, gasping at the tightness in my chest which pained me. Thankfully, as I took a deep breath, my body started to relax and my senses cleared. I opened my eyes to see a bright light coming from above me before I looked around with blurry eyesight.

I heard voices coming from somewhere near as I felt the stiff mattress beneath me. It was then when I looked around, seeing where I was laid down and noticing where my hands were resting on. I had one hand clutching on the sheets and was surprised to see the other gripping tightly onto a strange hand that was resting on the bed, right beside me.

“Ms. Mae, looks like our sleeping beauty is awake.”

I looked up to see the owner of the unfamiliar voice, and met a pair of eyes looking down on me with a warm gaze.

“Ah—” I gasped the moment I noticed that it was neither of my friends I have been with before, or anyone I knew, in fact, and immediately pulled my hand away from his. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he said, smiling at me. “I really don’t mind. Your hand is pretty soft, I kinda like it.”

I squinted my hazy eyes and tried to recognise him. His voice sounded so familiar but I could not pinpoint who it was.

“Oh, you’re awake.” A young lady in a white coat came to stand next to the bed. She had a cold stare in her eyes, but her voice and her smile comforted me. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m—so sleepy,” I answered her and looked around. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the medical center. Your friends brought you here because you passed out in class. You’ve overworked yourself, dear. You are highly dehydrated and your blood sugar had dropped,” she said, before handing me an energy bar. “Your friends told me that you skipped meals. You should fill your stomach with this first. I had given you some fluids and we need to know if you need any shots. You should eat more once you get home later.”

“Home?”

“Your mother is on her way here,” she said with a pursed smile and nodding her head at the snack I was holding, gesturing for me to start eating. I looked around when she mentioned about my friends to find them, only to finally notice that the boy who was standing beside me earlier had left.

I saw him again around fifteen minutes later, when I walked out of the clinic after my mother came to pick me up. Hara and Jiyoung were both still there and helped me walk out, bowing with gratitude at the boy who was standing right outside the clinic with his friend. “Thank you for helping us carry her here,” I heard Hara spoke to him.

“No problem. I’m glad she’s okay,” he said, keeping his eyes and his fond smile towards me. I returned his smile and bowed to thank him, earning his light chuckle before he said, “Take care, love.”

My mother made me stay at home for the next few days. After what had happened, she refused to let me out of her sight and insisted that she would be allowed to feed me with healthy meals and make sure I get enough sleep.

I had no reason to refuse anyway. It was during a non-teaching period before exams started and I had submitted my projects to campus early, so I figured I could rest and cool down a bit at home. I spent the first few days lounging around in the house, enjoyed home cooking meals, wasted time by sleeping a lot and watching TV.

But whatever I did, even when I tried to occupy myself with different things, my mind seemed to have a problem to relax. I was constantly reminded of the boy who helped carry me to the clinic that day. His face was always there in my thoughts, and I grew curious as days went by.

“Do you know who he was?” I called Hara one day to let her know about my condition, after she sent me tons of text messages asking how I had been doing while I was away.

“No, he is not a student from Design major, I think. And he seems like an upperclassman. Jiyoung said she saw him hanging around with the members of the dance club from the Music Faculty,” she answered me through the phone. “Why? Do you like him?” Even if I could not see her face, I could sense her tease from the light giggle she gave me.

“I’m just curious, that’s all. I didn’t properly thank him for helping me,” I scoffed, feeling grateful that she could not see me getting flustered.

“It’s okay to like him, he’s kinda cute. And Jiyoung said he seems pretty popular, but probably not amongst us nerds. Damn Design study and its godforsaken assignments are making us blind for such beauty on campus,” she tutted.

I gnawed at my lips. “Do any of you know his name?”

“No, sorry. I didn’t get to ask, and I don’t think Jiyoung knows either.”

My mind was too busy processing on everything that I fell silent, I couldn’t help but wonder why I was so curious at him, why his voice was still stuck in my head.

“Hey,” Hara called for me from the other line, pulling me back to her voice. “If you are curious, why don’t you try to look for him in the next building? Jiyoung said he might be in Music, right? Go look around for him there.”

“And then, what? What do I say if I see him?”

I can hear her humming, thinking loudly to herself. “You can just properly thank him and start a conversation from there. Or just give him a thank you gift for helping or something.”

The next hour was spent with me contemplating her idea. when afternoon came, I was getting frustrated after finding nothing that would be eligible to be handed as a gift or to make one even after rummaging through my bedroom. Until I came to remember what else I could make and made a decision. Before I knew it, I left the bedroom and went straight to the kitchen, once again rummaging through its cabinets and gathered some ingredients that I could find.

Less than five minutes later, I was in the middle of making a batch of cookies.

Baking was something that I enjoyed doing, I realised then, as I felt joy in mixing the ingredients together and even started humming to myself as I did so. I was so into what I was doing that I was completely unaware that someone had come and joined me in that empty kitchen.

“What are you busy up to?”

I turned to see my mother standing at the corner of the room, watching me working with a smile on her face. While I, on the other hand, could only laugh sheepishly after being caught red-handed of using her tools without her knowing.

“Oh—Hi, Mom. I was bored, so I figured I should make some cookies.”

“Cookies?” She raised her eyebrows. “Since when do you know how to make them?”

I bit my lips, mentally facepalming myself as I looked down on the mixture I was making. Because I was a pretty good cook and had a knack on baking things. But not yet. Not until a few more years when I finally had to learn how to do it since I had to live independently. It amazed me how my memories would randomly instigate my knowledge of cooking at the most unexpected time.

“I—uh, I saw some videos on how to do it earlier when I was browsing the internet, so I figured I should try it while I’m not busy,” I said, forcing a grin while hoping that it would not raise any curiosity. Especially since lately I had been showing a lot of knowledge and ability that I probably should not have known yet.

It was getting harder not to slip up at times, not when the memories were getting much clearer to me.

“That sounds good,” she said, chuckling to herself. Her eyes kept scanning back and forth between the kitchen that was perhaps lacking the mess I should probably have created during my ‘first time’ and at my face. “Wow, I tried to get you to learn to do kitchen work for years, and you suddenly doing it now after watching a video? Good job,” she said, leaning forward to give a peck on my forehead. “I should leave it to you then. I want to see how good you are on your first try, but let me know if you need my help, okay?”

“Sure, Mom,” I answered her, sighing in relief as I watched her walk away.

After a week of good rest, I finally return to campus for the exam week. I only had one exam on the first day. It was already lunch break when I finished it, so I rushed out of the building and nearly ran all the way to the east side plaza of our campus.

Jiyoung was being helpful in finding the necessary information on how and where I would be able to find the mysterious boy. It was futile to slip away before my friends would start asking me questions and before Taehyung came to see me, and I had to rush ahead with a gift box which I had prepared in my hand before anyone caught wind of what I was doing.

I reached the plaza in no time, walking straight towards the park in the center where students from other majors would usually hang out. My heartbeat was thumping rapidly as I got there.

I looked around, holding the gift box my hands, nervously brushing its edges with my fingers while scanning the area. There were a lot of students already lounging at the park, all scattered in groups. Minutes had passed by and I have not yet found him within the crowd even as I walked through the pathways. I was starting to contemplate on whether it was a good idea to carry on what I was planning to do. I knew I would remember his face when I saw him, but I had only met him briefly.

What if I remembered him wrong?

Once my nerves were starting to get over me, I made a decision to just give up and forget why I had come out to that place for. But just as I was about to turn around and walk away, a sound of high-toned laughter—more like giggles, to be exact—resonated from somewhere at the far side of the park. The voice was drowned by other waves of laughter, but it was still clear to me even from the distance, and it caught my attention almost instantly.

I turned back around, focusing my eyes to where the voice was coming from. Somehow, I felt like it was calling for me, pulling me to come closer.

Everything else around me became a complete blur, the source of his voice being the only thing I cared about that I kept walking closer without looking anywhere else but forward.

Until I saw him.

It was then when I found out the reason why it took me so long to find him before. He was sitting down on the grass, circled by his friends with his back leaning against a tree. Half hidden by the huge bunk and he would have been completely hidden entirely by it if only he was not hunching forward as he continued laughing.

My legs kept moving toward him. Hesitantly at first. But the closer I was getting to him, and the clearer his voice came to me, my footsteps became more firm and steady. There was something in his voice, something that was familiar and gave me warmth, urging me to come closer. With each footstep I took, I felt my heartbeat increasing, my knees weakening the more I see him. I felt something deep inside me when I looked at his face, a feeling of longing for something that I could not put my fingers on, but was also making me sick with sadness.

I stopped right where I should be shielded by the trees and waited for the perfect time to call for him. My throat felt so dry I started to worry that I would not find my voice. I opened my lips the first time and no sound came out. I cleared my throat, bracing myself before I start again.

“Um—Ex-excuse me,” I finally managed to speak, and the groups instantly fell silent. Everyone stopped talking at once by the sound of my voice, which had me immediately regretting it the moment they all turned to look at me. My breath hitched when he finally turned around and our eyes met.

At that very second, I could feel myself wavering, almost forcing myself to plant my foot deeper into the ground just so I would not start running away as fast as I could or hide away from everyone’s eyes that are on me. If only his eyes did not flicker with recognition at my face, I might have already had turned and made haste as far away from where I was.

“Oh, it’s you!” He exclaimed excitedly with a wide smile that took over his entire face, his eyes forming a beautiful and adorable crescent which added light on his face. “We meet again. How are you?”

“You know her?” I heard someone within the group curiously asking him. I didn’t bother to see who it was, for I could not look away from his eyes which seemed too beautiful, too familiar in some strange way.

“Yes, we’ve met briefly,” he answered, also keeping his eyes staring into mine and not looking away even for a brief second. “How have you been?”

“I, um—Fine now, thank you,” I said, smiling at him, feeling the tension in my body slowly taking over. The attention was too much and I suddenly felt the need to run. “I’m sorry for interrupting. But, can we talk for a second?”

I was partly relieved that I managed to speak. Yet I was completely embarrassed at how my voice cracked as I spoke, exposing how nervous I was to face him. Thankfully, he only smiled and quickly jumped to his feet. His own face was red when he bid his goodbyes at his friends who were whistling and cheering to tease him as he left the circle and pulled me away.

“Please forgive my friends. They just love to tease me,” he sheepishly said, keeping his eyes on me which let me know how he most certainly had caught my own crimson cheeks himself.

“That’s okay,” I said, looking down on our feet. “I, uh—I only want to thank you for helping me out the other day. And uh, apologise for—Well, I heard from my friends that you carried me to the infirmary? I’m sorry for being such a trouble when we don’t even know each other—”

“Hey, it was nothing,” he interrupted me, keeping his smile on his face as he spoke. “I don’t mind at all. I’m actually glad I could help. So, how are you doing now?”

“I’m feeling much better, thank you,” I said, sighing in relief. “I took a few days to rest at home. And they finally let me go back for my exams today after seeing that I’ve gotten better.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“I—Actually thought that you won’t recognise me,” I admitted to him and looked away embarrassed. He was shaking his head and chuckling lightly when I looked at him again.

“Don’t be silly. I will never forget about you,” he confidently said to me. And I could feel my heart leaping, nearly bursting out of my chest, while he seemed flustered at his own words. He immediately looked away, rubbing his hand at the back of his neck. “I’m sorry. I mean, everything happened so fast, but I still remember you. I did stay with you in the room for a while, so—”

I looked down as I felt warmth surging on my cheeks, only noticing then that I had forgotten about a certain object which I had been clutching in my hands. “Oh! I almost forgot. This is for you,” I said, handing the box that was thankfully still intact. “It’s a thank you gift—sort of. It’s probably nothing much, but I hope you like it.”

He took it with a curious look, lifting his eyebrows as he opened the lid and pulled out a transparent pouch which was filled with homemade cookies. “For me? Did you make these?” He looked up to stare at me and I nodded.

“Uh—yes, I made them myself. For you. Uhm—it’s my way to say thank you.” I looked away quickly when the heat on my face increased right after I answered.

“Oh, well—You are welcome. And thank you for these,” he said, bending lower until his face was visible to my eyes. “These are actually my favourite. I’m sure I’m gonna love these.”

I nodded, smiling as I felt relieved. Now that I had done what I have wanted to do since the day I remembered him, I managed to look at him again with more confidence, earning his smile as our eyes met.

“You know, since we met only briefly and your Mom took you away before we ever had a chance to talk to each other, I, uh—I didn’t catch your name,” he said, and I started noticing more on the familiarity for being close to him. His way of speech, his voice, the look in his eyes that came clear to me from the proximity between us. Everything was too familiar.

He was familiar.

“My name is _____.”

Perhaps it was my mind playing tricks on me, but I was able to see something flickered the moment he heard my name, a glint of hope appearing briefly at the corner of his eyes. It only happened for a split second, and it disappeared completely when he blinked them, right before he answered, “Nice to meet you, ______. My name is Jimin. Park Jimin.”

—First life. St. Vincent’s Hospital, year 2027—

“You can’t give up.”

I opened my eyes. The tears that had been running down on my cheeks had turned dry, and I felt my eyelids still heavy with sleep. “Why?” I managed to whisper even with my throat so dry. I had been crying and screaming of pain. Hours of lying down on the bed and not being able to move freely as I used to had made me feel like I was losing control of my body.

And I was getting so tired of it. Tired of everything.

“Because I won’t allow you to,” he softly said, as if he was speaking those words only to himself.

“What rights do you have that you think you actually have a say in this? It’s my life, it’s my decision to make.” I knew I probably should not be angry at him, but I just felt like nothing could ever change my mind or push me into fighting again. No matter what he said to me, I had no more will to fight.

Because I had given up, long before I even started fighting.

“Why would I fight for the life I no longer want to have?”

He took my hand and started kissing the back of my hand ever so gently. I could feel his skinny fingers gently stroking on mine, his dry lips pressing gently on the pale skin on my knuckles. I felt his breath when he whispered to me between his kisses, “Because life is an amazing thing. It always has its surprises prepared for you. And I promise you, once you win this battle, I believe something good lies somewhere in the future.”

“Will you be in it?” A drop of tear escaped and fell on my cheek. His words hit me deep, and hard. And the touch of his fingers made me wish to never let go.

He raised his hand without letting go of mine—-moving the only hand he could still move, when he let the other rested on the bed to not mess with the cables which were attached to it. He softly grazed my cheek with his knuckles, wiping away my tears. “I’m afraid I have lost my battle a long time ago. That is my biggest regret. I wasn’t fighting enough, and now life is showing me what I could have won if only I had been brave enough to fight it.”

“What is it?”

He sighed, before lifting his eyes to meet mine. The look in his eyes made me cry want to cry even harder. Because all I could see emitting from them was regret, pain, and love.

“You.”

a/n: re-edited by author - 14.11.2018

SERIES MASTERLIST

Thank you so much for reading the series and for the continuous support. I would feel most grateful for any kind of appreciation sent through my ko-fi page!^^

Disclaimer: All works are written by myself. Any copyright infringement, reposting on any other social media or website, and any act of plagiarism will be dealt with legal action

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queercapwriting · 7 years

Text

Sanvers vs. Cadmus

Maggie is kidnapped by Cadmus, but instead of torturing her for information about Supergirl, they do something much worse: they make her watch them hurt Alex.

Not based on a prompt, just based on my more difficult thoughts and conversations with @thesameenshaw. Heads up: this gets very bloody and torturey, but of course our girls will be just fine. Once again, I am not Jason Rothenberg.

She doesn’t know how she got here, but she remembers falling asleep last night with Alex’s legs wrapped around her body, with Alex’s breath tickling her neck, with Alex’s steady warmth seeping through her own skin.

Now, her skin is cold, and now, her skin is damp with her own blood, because now, she’s strapped to a freezing metal table, still in the boxers and Alex’s Stanford sweater that she fell asleep in last night.

Now, her eyes scan the high, concrete ceiling above her, and she swallows panic.

Now, she tests the limits of the cold hard straps digging into her wrists, her ankles, her forehead. Securing her, immobilizing her.

Now, she takes a shuddering breath and now, she realizes with a sickening swoop in her stomach that this must be Cadmus, because now, the ringing of stilettos on stone ground is echoing off the walls and off the trays of surgical equipment resting at the ready next to the table Maggie is strapped to, too close for comfort but not close enough for her to get at. Even if she could break through these damn straps before the sound of heels stops as a woman steps into her limited line of vision: a woman she recognizes as Lillian Luthor.

Maggie uses the length of the serenely smiling woman’s forearm as a gauge, as a measuring stick, to take stock of the dimensions of the room, running estimates in her head, how many feet high the ceiling is, how many paces across the room might be, where the dim light is coming from, and dammit why do they always take you to a room with no windows? Can’t they slip up on that detail just once?

“Finally awake, I see, Detective,” Lillian croons, and Maggie glares, refusing to flinch away from Lillian’s fingers as she reaches down to stroke Maggie’s cheek with her fingernails. “You seemed quite… shall we say… affected by the strain of gas we used to ensure your cooperation in coming here this morning.”

“The hell do you want, Luthor?” Maggie’s voice shakes a lot less than the inside of her stomach is, and she takes grim satisfaction from it.

“Oh dear, you’re right, where are my manners?” She gestures behind her somehow both theatrically and primly, sweeping the room with her hands. “Welcome to Cadmus, Detective Maggie Sawyer.”

“I didn’t ask where I was. I asked why I’m here.”

“Because my attempts to reign in Supergirl have failed so far, you see. And you’re going to tell me how to succeed.”

Maggie blinks and Maggie tugs at her restraints.

“How the hell should I know?”

“Oh, because you know her, dear, don’t you?”

Maggie says nothing as Lillian flashes photos of Maggie by Supergirl’s side in the field, of the cockeyed grin Supergirl is giving her as she fills out some paperwork; of the way Maggie rolls her eyes affectionately as Supergirl takes off in an absurdly giddy, absurdly showy way.

Maggie says nothing because her throat is closing up, and she says nothing because Lillian’s eyes are studying hers and she wants them to find absolutely nothing.

“I’m NCPD. NCPD works with Supergirl.”

“But this doesn’t look like a casual, detached, professional relationship to you, does it, Detective Sawyer? And that is your job, isn’t it? Piecing together people’s motives, studying them and discovering what hides underneath?”

Lillian drops the photos on Maggie’s stomach, and Maggie hisses in discomfort, in a jolt of added fear, in a well-concealed but rapidly growing panic.

The director of Cadmus chuckles softly and strides across to the tray of surgical instruments next to the table, and Maggie swallows vomit and swivels her eyes to follow Lillian’s hands, carefully and considerately selecting a gleaming scalpel and bringing it closer for examination. Maggie slams against her restraints again, and Lillian tuts.

“Now now, dear, that won’t do. But we will get you to talk about Supergirl. Or, should I say, Kara Danvers?”

Maggie wishes for heat vision and Maggie wishes for super strength, because she’s been angry before, she’s been furious before, but she’s never wanted to attack someone like this.

“I’m not giving her up,” she tells her, even as Lillian steps closer to the table, even as Lillian is eyeing her like a piece of meat to carve before family dinner. Like she’s already been murdered and won’t feel the pain of the cuts. But she will, she will. She will.

Lillian tuts again. “Oh. Well, that is sweet, dear, but I am curious – we are a research facility, after all, and I understand you’re a scientist yourself, won all the regional Intel competitions in Blue Springs, and even placed second and, was it third, in your junior year, at the state competition in high school, so I’m sure you’ll share my scientist’s curiosity – are you refusing to give up Supergirl for the sake of her alien self? Or for the sake of her very human sister?”

What’s left of Maggie’s stomach plummets as she sets her jaw and glares up into the eyes of the woman holding a scalpel dangerously close to her chest.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Bless,” Lillian coos. “Well, if you truly don’t know her, then surely it won’t bother you if she takes your place?”

Lillian bends quickly and releases the bottom legs of the cold, metal table Maggie’s strapped to, so that she clangs down into a near standing position, her head pounding terribly from the slamming, from the ringing, from the pure and utter terror growing in her core.

Because now, she has a perfect view of the half-sedated woman Lillian’s men are dragging none-too-gently into the room.

Her throat nearly bleeds when she yells. “Alex!”

“Oh, so you do know her. I thought as much. Good. Now the real experiment can begin.”

[If the keep reading button is giving you problems, read the rest here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8856685/chapters/21161846 ]

“What the hell are you – let her go, let her go, I’ll take her place, I’ll – ”

“Maggie?”

Alex’s voice sounds like she hasn’t used it in months, and for a moment, a small smile tugs at her bloody lips. Because for a moment, she thinks she’s still in bed with the woman she loves, still wrapped up in everything safe and warm and perfect; thinks that the warmth coursing through her veins is love and hope and security, not drugs.

For a moment.

And then the cold of the hard, concrete ground sink into her consciousness. The grating pain of her arms twisted behind her back and chained together. The searing pain in the voice of the woman pleading for her life.

Alex’s eyes open fully, and in an instant her adrenaline kicks in; in an instant, years of training overpowers the drugs that are slowly leaving her system; in an instant, she takes in how many Cadmus lackeys had brought her in, are front of her, beside her, behind her, how many pipes are running into the ceiling above her, how many scalpels, knives, and scissors are on the trays in front of her, in front of Maggie; in an instant, she takes in the sight of Lillian Luthor, smiling calm as a summer’s day, standing over Maggie Sawyer – forehead, wrists, and ankles all strapped to the vertically-positioned metal biobed – with a gleaming surgical scalpel in her hand and calm, detached passion in her eyes.

“Agent Danvers. Good to see you’re waking up. So sorry to take you out of bed; I know how much you must cherish your down time with Detective Sawyer here. There’s precious little of that in our line of work, wouldn’t you agree?”

Her heels echo on the stone ground as she saunters toward Alex, who has eyes only for Maggie, quiet now that Alex is awake except for shuddering breaths. She fights to rise to her knees, relief coursing through her that Lillian is walking away from Maggie and toward her.

It’s because of that thin blanket of security that Alex responds to Lillian’s question the only way she ever responds when she’s in chains.

“Go to hell.”

Lillian stops walking. She nods at one of the men who dragged Alex in, and Maggie shouts, Maggie begs, because she knows that nod.

Alex knows that nod, too, but Alex doesn’t flinch. She just glares up at Lillian from her knees. She glares up at her, that is, until she sees stars, and not the kind she was seeing last night -- just last night? how rapidly the entire world changes -- because the butt of a Cadmus semi-auto slams into her jaw and, with her arms chained roughly behind her back, she has nothing to land on but an already cut shoulder and the cold, hard concrete.

“Alex,” she hears, and it’s a sob, and she raises her eyes to met Maggie’s, and she shakes her head, slightly, slightly, her heart screaming even worse than her bleeding, broken face.

She drags her gaze away from Maggie, drags her gaze away from Maggie’s wide eyes and futilely slamming heels and hands and head, away from the only woman who’s going to get her out of this alive – because she will be in her arms again, dammit – and the woman who’s going to be the reason she never leaves this room – because she will die in an instant if it means they’ll let her go, they’ll let her be safe.

Even if Maggie would never forgive her.

Alex fixes her hazy eyes up on Lillian Luthor, instead, and when they connect, Alex spits blood and what feels like it was probably a molar and seething hatred right onto her shoes.

Lillian doesn’t flinch. Instead, her smile deepens as she glances down at her spoiled stiletto, at the spot where Alex’s blood is seeping down her foot and into her tights, down her shoe and onto the ground.

“Charming,” she says, and she walks away briskly, nodding again as she does so. Her soldier kicks Alex in the rib cage, and she refuses to shout, refuses to yell, as she feels something bruise, as she feels something burst, as she feels the desperate need to draw Lillian’s attention back to her, just her, to focus on hurting her, because Maggie, god, Maggie, no.

“What is it you want, Luthor? To coerce another scientist into working for you? That never ends well for the captors in the movies, you know, and it’s not gonna work for you. Unless – ”

Lillian turns and Alex senses hope and Maggie tries to shake her head, tries to tell her don’t you dare, tries to tell you I know I haven’t said it yet, but I love you, godammit, let me take this for you, but Alex is distinctly ignoring her.

“Unless?” Lillian prompts, still holding the scalpel between dainty fingers.

“Let her go. Let her go, and we can talk terms.”

Lillian actually laughs at that, a full laugh that echoes off the walls and cuts into Alex’s bleeding mouth.

“Oh no, dear, you misunderstand. Your father is more than enough of a coerced scientist for us – ”

Alex growls and tries to stand again, but she takes a kick to the back of the knees and crumples.

“Ally.” Maggie’s voice is choked and her face is stained with tears, but Alex refuses to look at her. Alex only has eyes for the woman she swears she’ll kill at first opportunity.

“No, Agent Danvers, we don’t need you to work for us. Because, you see, you already are. You would never give up your sister, of course, and Detective Sawyer is apparently made of tougher stuff than most local law enforcement I’ve disposed of in the past.”

Maggie slams against her restraints, because this woman is hurting Alex, because this woman slaughtered her friends in the bar, because this woman is going to be dead by day’s end if Maggie has anything to do with it.

“What’s your point, Luthor?” Alex spits, struggling to get back onto her knees, slipping off balance a few times in a rapidly growing pool of her own blood.

“My point, dear, as I was explaining to Detective Sawyer here, is that Cadmus is about testing boundaries, about pushing limits. About experiments, you see, and this one has several testable outcomes. How much pain will a human endure to protect an alien? To protect another human?”

“Pain doesn’t scare me,” Alex snarls, because Alex probably has a concussion and Alex is losing a lot of blood and Alex is highly trained but she doesn’t quite understand what Lillian is getting at.

Maggie does, and Maggie rattles against her restraints again. Desperately. She pays no mind to the fact that blood is starting to stream out of her chafed skin. She only has mind enough for Alex.

“Oh, I know that, dear. I’m not talking about your pain.”

“Don’t you dare touch her.” Alex rams an elbow into the crotch of one of the soldiers standing over her, bowls over another with the sheer force of her toppling bodyweight, flips so the chains around her ankles pull against his neck.

Lillian laughs calmly as a third soldier draws a gun clean against Alex’s head, laughs calmly as Maggie fills the entire room with her screams, with her struggles against the restraints, her right hand starting to come loose, her right wrist sending blood dripping onto the floor below her.

Alex freezes and growls and lets the man slip out of her grasp, but not before tugging an almighty bruise onto his throat.

“I have no intention of touching Detective Sawyer, Agent Danvers, if you could just control that temper of yours long enough to listen. Pain doesn’t have to be physical, you know, dear.”

She nods as Alex’s eyes widen, as Alex shakes her head, as the soldier whose crotch Alex slammed into cocks his gun and in a single, unstoppable moment, shoots Alex in the thigh.

She doesn’t scream, but Maggie does; her throat doesn’t tear with pain, but Maggie’s does; Alex doesn’t curse at Lillian and swear she’ll kill her, but Maggie does.

“Let me take her place, please, please, just stop, please, just let me take her place, please.”

Lillian turns to regard Maggie like she’s her star student who just answered a particularly difficult question perfectly.

“You see, Agent Danvers?” She squats down next to Alex, who’s seeing double, who’s fighting somehow to keep a straight face, to keep a calm face, to keep her face clean of the pure agony she’s in, because Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, and Lillian runs the scalpel lightly over Alex’s tensed tricep, drawing a thin line of blood, a thin line of blood that becomes two, that becomes three, that becomes four; four lines that connect at their points; four lines that, together, form the letter “M.”

Alex grits her teeth and Alex hisses and Alex tries not to yell out but god she wants to because god she’s never known pain until this day, this moment, this place.

“Please, stop it, let me take her place, please, I’ll tell you anything, I’ll do anything, just please, let her go, let me take her place, please, just let her go,” Maggie is pleading, panting, sobbing, and Lillian stops her scalpel abruptly.

Alex lets her eyes squeeze shut, forces sound out of her throat. “Don’t you dare listen to her. I’m who you want, Lillian. She’s just a local cop, she doesn’t know what I do, she doesn’t – ”

Another kick to her ribcage knocks the wind out of her, and Lillian gives a different nod to two of her men, who cross the room to Maggie’s table, and it’s Alex’s turn to scream.

“Don’t you dare hurt her, Luthor. I swear on everything I have ever known, if you lay a finger on her, I – ”

“Alex, will you shut up and let someone protect you for once in your life?” Maggie spits as the soldiers undo her straps in a single, rough motion, and she collapses onto the ground, twisting her ankle and skinning her knees and her hands, but not caring because Alex, Alex, Alex, so she’s up and she doesn’t care if they shoot her on the way, because Alex is bleeding and Alex is in pain and for some reason that she doesn’t care about right now, the blows never come and Alex is in her arms and she’s tearing at the bottom of her tank top and she’s stemming the flow of blood out of Alex’s thigh and her hands are soaked in her girlfriend’s warm blood and she’s kissing her face and she’s promising her that everything’s going to be alright and she’s slipping something metal into Alex’s chained hands and she’s flying backwards suddenly and landing on her back a few feet away, and Alex’s yells are filling her ears but they’re focused on her, now, not Alex, so it’s fine, it’s fine, it’ll be fine.

“My working hypothesis at the moment is that pain is most effective after temporary relief.” Lillian stands over Maggie as two of her soldiers fix the barrels of their guns on either of Maggie’s temples. “So you had your moment of relief with your beloved, and now, my dear, now, if you’d like to spare Agent Danvers the pain you just experienced watching her suffer – if you’d like her to get medical treatment for those dreadful wounds – you’re going to tell me what I need to know about Supergirl, about the DEO. And you’re going to do it soon, because the next bullet will go somewhere much less recoverable than one of your girlfriend’s thighs.”

“You really don’t get it, do you?”

Maggie’s voice is shaking, and her lip is bleeding from biting it so hard, and her hands are soaked in Alex’s blood. Her head, her entire body, aches from thrashing around, her wrists and ankles and forehead oozing blood from where she’d strained at her straps.

“You’re doing this because you think it’s going to break me into telling you what you wanna know. Because you think I love her.”

She looks past the barrels of the guns and she looks past Lillian Luthor’s keen gaze, and she locks her eyes in Alex’s terrified ones.

Maggie swallows. Tears streak tracks through the blood on her face, even without her blinking.

“And that’s where you’re right. I do love her.”

Alex sobs and Alex tries to crawl forward. “Maggie,” her voice breaks.

Lillian ignores her, staring down at Maggie like she hasn’t seen a proper meal in days and Maggie is the main course.

“I’m glad you’re coming to your senses, dear.”

“No, see, here’s the thing. You’re right that I love her, but you’re wrong about how much. See, I love her so much that I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Alex Danvers is braver than you. That Alex Danvers is a more incredible woman than anything you possibly could have accounted for in your stupid experiment parameters. And because I love her – because I love her more than I have ever loved anyone – I know her. And I know, because she’s braver than you, because she’s more incredible than you knew how to account for, that she would rather endure anything you can do to her than have me give up her sister to make you stop. And that? That’s the worst thing in the world for me, far worse than these guns. So congratulations. You’ve manufactured my perfect hell. But I won’t abandon her. Because I love her. I love her.”

She looks straight into Alex’s streaming eyes, and she holds them with her own.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

And then she nods, and then all hell breaks loose.

Because the piece of metal she’d slipped into Alex’s hand was a key that she’d grabbed off one of the soldiers as she fell from her own restraints, and the nod was a signal that both of them understood: that they would die for each other, that they might do so in the next thirty seconds, but god they would never have any regrets because I love you I love you I love you.

Maggie dives to the ground so that when the soldiers shoot, they miss; when they shoot, they shoot each other in the legs, and Maggie scrambles up, and Maggie kicks them both unconscious, eyes blazing, eyes on Alex, who’s grabbed the gun of the soldier nearest her and poured a round of bullets into him and into his comrade and into Lillian Luthor, whose fingers fumble through slick pools of blood for the fallen soldier’s cell phone, mechanically dialing for J’onn, mechanically breathing, mechanically repeating we’re alive, we’re alive, we’re alive, because no other thoughts matter, not yet.

Alex barely remembers getting J’onn on the phone and she barely remembers the body bags and the medical evac and she barely remembers Kara’s enraged yell and Kara’s terrified gasp and she barely remembers the words of comfort she’d tried to choke out before J’onn told her not to talk, before J’onn told her it would be okay, everyone was safe, everything would be alright.

She only remembers Maggie’s hands on her body, Maggie reporting on every blow they’d given her so the med team could evaluate priorities on treating Alex’s broken body. She only remembers Kara breaking in Maggie’s arms, only remembers Maggie refusing to leave her side as she goes under for surgery, refusing to get treated herself until Alex is out of the woods, until Alex’s blood loss is no longer life threatening, until Alex is alright, alright, alright.

“Bet you scared the shit out of the entire DEO med team,” Alex rasps when she’s conscious again, and she’s greeted by the healing sound of J’onn, Winn, and James laughing in relief, of Kara biting down an ecstatic sob.

Maggie makes no sound. Maggie does not smile. Maggie just stares at Alex’s face, just strokes Alex’s cheek, just watches Alex like she’ll disappear the moment Maggie blinks.

“You’re safe,” she croaks out eventually, and Alex’s heart breaks and James squeezes Maggie’s shoulder and Winn squeezes Kara’s hand and J’onn squeezes his own sides to keep himself from shattering at the seams.

“Yeah,” Alex confirms, knowing that Maggie isn’t comforting her. “Yeah, babe, I’m safe. Thanks to you. You got us outta there, you got us safe.”

“You killed those men. Lillian Luthor. They hurt you. I wanted to kill them.”

Kara chokes on a sob and James keeps his hand on Maggie’s shoulder and Alex fumbles a groggy hand up to try to wipe the tear streaks off Maggie’s face.

“I’m safe, Maggie. I’m okay. Just a bit of rest, I’ll be just fine. Thanks to you. Because of you, babe.”

“They made me watch them hurt you.”

Alex wishes she hadn’t killed Lillian Luthor so she could kill her again. Slower.

“I’m okay now, babe. I’m okay, and I love you, Maggie Sawyer. I love you, and I’m not going anywhere, okay? I’m not going away from you. I love you too much for that.”

“And she’s too damn stubborn, anyway,” Winn chokes out, and Alex grins and the corner of Maggie’s lips tilt slightly.

“Yeah, someone’s gotta steal Winn’s lunch every day,” James chimes in softly as he keeps Alex’s hand pressed to Maggie’s cheek, because Alex doesn’t have the strength to hold it that steady that long, but one of Maggie’s hands is on Alex’s face and the other is just above the bandage on her thigh, and both of them are leaning into his help.

Maggie coughs out a watery chuckle and she turns her face to kiss Alex’s palm. “You steal Winn’s lunches, babe?”

“Someone needs to keep him in line.”

“I’m standing right here!”

“Maggie. I love you too. I love you too.”

Alex’s voice is full of gravel and Maggie’s chest heaves with a tidal wave of impending sobs.

“Alex, I’m so sorry I couldn’t – ”

“Detective Sawyer – Maggie – you saved Alex’s life. You have nothing to apologize for. Nothing at all. None of what happened was your fault. None of it.”

“What J’onn said,” Alex wheezes as Maggie leans back into James’s torso and tries, tries, tries, to breathe.

“You’re okay,” Maggie says again, her fingers tracing the stitches on Alex’s face, the swelling.

“I’m okay,” Alex confirms, a small smile growing on her face as she sees her love and her relief and her need mirrored in Maggie’s eyes. “And I’m under the distinct impression that ya like me. That’s… that’s what I’m getting from this whole thing.”

Maggie fully laughs this time, fully smiles, and Alex doesn’t care that her own face hurts when she beams in response, because she could never watch Maggie go into full-on dimple mode without smiling herself.

“Of course, you’re not gonna go crazy on me, are you?”

“Probably.”

Alex leans up and Maggie stands and leans down and they smile into each other’s gentle kiss and breathe into each other’s soft, watery, safe laughter, each other’s protection, each other’s love.

#sanvers #sanvers fan fic #sanvers fan fiction #sanvers angst #tw: torture

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marrymeinthespacestation · 7 years

Note

Can I request something with the RFA+Saeran reacting to (or beating up, you know) a guy touching MC inappropriately in public, and she doesn't know him or anything he's just a random pervert that deserves to get beat up (if this makes you uncomfortable in any way don't feel pressured !! You don't have to!!)

no worries anon, I’ll write this to the best of my ability :)

scene: you and your partner are finally going out on a date!

also, note: swearing involved + long post ahead!

Zen:

- he brings you the the movies for a midnight romance show after finally getting some time-off from work

- he leaves you near the entrance to get the tickets

- and suddenly this guy comes up to you and grab your hand

- you’re shocked and think that maybe he just mistook you for someone else

- you try to be polite and push his hand away but suddenly he pushes you to the wall

- and you can tell he definitely reeks of alcohol

- you start to struggle when he pins both your hands over your head

- Zen then comes rushing in, kicking the bastard hard resulting in a knock-out

- you are so relieved Zen saved you like a knight in shining armour because you were hella scared back there

- he apologises non-stop and curses himself for being so stupid leaving you on your own at night

- you literally have to drag him into the cinema or you’ll miss the show opening

Jaehee:

- it’s a miracle Jumin gave her time-off on a weekday and what better way than to spend it together with you at the park

- she prepared a whole course for the picnic

- but just as you two starting eating, this man comes up to you and asks you out on a date but you decline of course

- suddenly he gets angry and demands you to go out with him instead of hanging with your ‘friend’

- you get offended that he called Jaehee a ‘friend’ and you are ready to give him a piece of your mind

- but he drags you up and placed his hand on your butt

- Jaehee immediately stands up too and warns him to let go with you but he flipped her off

- she literally Judo kicks him away from you and he lands right on his face

- just before he scurries off, you yell “I’m fucking gay!”

Yoosung:

- he is so excited that school holidays are finally here and he can bring you to the new water park

- he’s embarrassed that you’re wearing such a cute bikini but he loves it

- turns out it was a mistake to wear that because some jerk suddenly starts groping your ass as the two of you queue in line for the highest slide

- the guy doesn’t stop despite you giving the glare and you had to yell, “Hey fuck off!”

- Yoosung gets really angry

- so Yoosung immediately rips his hand off you and kicks him down the slide hard

- all you can hear is him screaming like a girl and laughter erupting from the both of you and a few others

- he is so overprotective of you the entire day but you love that

Jumin:

- he finally finishes paperwork and decides to bring you out for dinner at a lavish new restaurant

- but the moment you step in the restaurant, this certain waiter has been eyeing you and you honestly feel very uncomfortable

- you didn’t mention it to Jumin because you thought it’s nothing

- but the moment Jumin leaves your table for a moment to greet a former client, the waiter doesn’t waste his time striding up to you

- he places his hand on your hips and wanted to lead you away

- thankfully Jumin is quick enough to turn back and pull you away

- he makes an announcement stating that he’ll not pay for the dinner since the waiter has disrespected a customer

- the manager comes running up to Jumin to apologise but Jumin immediately leaves with you

- never again are you guys going back there and it’s a miracle Jumin didn’t shut the entire business down

Seven:

- agent Vanderwood finally cuts him some slack so he brings you to the amusement park to let out stress

- there are so many people there and him being super excited is not helping because you know you can’t keep up with him in the crowd

- and not five minutes in, you already lose sight of him

- suddenly you feel someone grabbing your hand and you instantly think it’s Seven

- but it’s not and it’s a creepy asswipe

- since it’s crowded you can’t really move away that easily nor can your voice be heard from all the screaming

- he starts to touch your legs and you know enough’s enough

- so you try to push him away but you’re not strong enough

- but God Seven hears your cries and steps in like a true hero!!

- apparently he went to get two candy floss but he didn’t mind wasting one of them

- Seven shoves the pink floss in his face and he ends up stumbling backwards and falling

- the both of you laugh before walking and Seven hugs you

- you share the candy floss together as you marvel at which rides to get on

- you two finally decide to go out instead of having home dates

- so you propose a road trip and he agrees and of course you’re driving

- it’s so fun just to have a long drive with him and singing songs at the top of your lungs even though you know your voice sounds bad

- then you finally take a break at the gas station to refill

- so while waiting you head into the convenience store to get some drinks and this biker is staring at you

- you didn’t pay attention to him until he comes up to you and touches your shoulders

- by this time you’re already out of the store and you’re half-yelling at him to stop bothering you but you’re scared because he does look like he could kill someone

- and he doesn’t stop until V suddenly appears from beside you with his walking stick

- you know he purposely waved his stick around and it hit the biker’s legs really hard

- the biker immediately shouted at V and grab him by his collar

- “oh I’m sorry, I couldn’t see where I was going”

- the biker’s pissed so he just leaves and you hug V for saving you

- “hey, you can’t blame a blind guy for trying”

Saeran:

- he needs some time away from his idiot brother so brings you to the club to let loose and have fun

- you guys are rocking the dance floor and all eyes are on you

- the music’s great and the drinks keep on going

- and somehow some dick ends up dancing beside you

- you clearly gave the hint that you’re not interested but obviously some idiots can’t see that

- and he starts grinding you

- you’re so surprised so you didn’t react that fast as compared to Saeran

- Saeran threw the hardest punch ever because you can hear the sound of his nose breaking

- “Fuck you!” Saeran yells before beating him up whenever he tries to stand up

- the both of you end up being thrown out of the club while that dick gets sent to the hospital

- but you didn’t care as long as Saeran is by your side

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norihisahyuga-archived · 7 years

Text

Give It A Shot

Souma Mitsuko/Chigusa Takako Battle Royale 2100~ words. Sfw.

Mitsuko Souma had long since given up the idea that anyone would ever be enough to deserve a shot. She was happy to spend all of her days in a world of black and white. Takako Chigusa, however, is not. A prequel to the whole damned soulmate AU. Movie ‘verse, non-Program.

Mitsuko Souma did not believe in fairytales. She did not believe in soulmates. All she believed was that life could be cruel and cold and there would be an endless sea of shades of grey in her vision for the rest of her life. From the moment when her mother first tried to pimp her out to some sleazy guy to the moment when she realized what she had to do to survive, what she had to rely on, she gave up on any idea of the concept of “love.” Someone who loved her so much her vision would swim with color? Laughable at best, she would rather die alone.

This afternoon is no different than the ones before, the six of them kicked back on the bleachers by the track field where the track runners are already practicing. Mitsuko has a cigarette between her lips, her mind wandering, her vision focused on nothing in particular. Yoshimi and Yoji are sitting hand in hand, whispering back and forth, while Hirono talks with Mayumi and Fumiyo.

School had let out early and with nothing else to do for the rest of the day, they had laid claim to one of their main spots. As far as Mitsuko was concerned, she could spend the rest of the day here and it would ultimately mean nothing. These days, she just goes through the motions.

“She’s really fast, isn’t she?” Hirono asks, jarring Mitsuko out of her quiet state.

Her eyes flick back toward the track, to the recognizable figure of Takako Chigusa, her dark hair shining beneath the sunlight while she rounds the first curve of the track. Her light tracksuit is almost blinding on a clear, cloudless day like this one. Mitsuko thinks that might be on purpose.

“She’s one of the fastest we’ve ever had,” she says when no one else speaks.

Yoji makes a face at her. “Did you know Kazushi Niida likes her? He’s fucking obsessed, I swear.”

“Gross.” Hirono wrinkles her nose, giving her head a shake. “He has that awful poodle hair.”

“She doesn’t like anyone but Sugimura, so I don’t think he’s got a chance anyway,” Fumiyo says, and Mitsuko hums. She had heard something like that, too, or so she thought.

Privately, to herself, she has thought about Takako Chigusa before. One of the prettiest girls in school, she exudes an air of don’t fuck with me wherever she goes and Mitsuko would be lying if she said she wasn’t privately in awe of the way Takako carried herself.

Hirono snaps her fingers. “Sugimura reminds me of a dog, too. No, a puppy. A sad puppy.”

The conversation breaks down into a battle of which classmates look like which dogs, and Mitsuko chooses not to invest herself in it. Instead, she flicks her cigarette butt away and removes another cigarette from the pack, wondering idly what fire looks like in color as she lights it.

When Kazushi Niida grabs Takako by the arm after her track practice one day, she turns around and belts him across the face. He runs away with his tail tucked between his legs.

Relief floods her gut when she realizes her world is still in black and white instead of even a little bit in color. She had always been worried in the back of her mind that she might be stuck with him one day, worried that she might have been forced to entertain someone she hated as her soulmate. After all, she did not doubt for one moment that life could be cruel.

She slams her locker door shut and stalks out of the locker room with a smile on her face.

It isn’t like Mitsuko to spend any time with the rest of the student body, just her handful of so-called friends when the silence gets to her and she doesn’t want to be on her own. There was nothing better to do and none of them feel like making the trek to the city, so they find themselves at the track meet. Hirono, Mayumi, and Fumiyo are passing a flask back and forth, chatting easily with one another while Yoshimi and Yoji spend their time messily kissing each other.

Mitsuko only sits with them for about fifteen minutes before pushing herself to her feet and walking down a few steps to find the Numai Family occupying an entire row themselves. It’s easy considering just how many of the student body is terrified of them, but Mitsuru sees Mitsuko coming, smiles broadly up at her, and pushes his bag off of the seat for her to sit next to him.

“Souma,” he greets her, and Mitsuko nods to him as she drops down next to him, leaning against the empty seat behind her. “Nice to see you’re still willing to lower yourself to come sit next to me. Want a drink? Ryuhei brought a few bottles with him in case this got boring.”

Mitsuko shakes her head, lighting up a cigarette before offering one to Mitsuru. “Nope, I’m good, I’ve got something of my own if I need it. What are you even doing here?”

To say the Numai Family has a lack of school spirit would be a joke in and of itself as they spend most pep rallies out of the gym, intent on finding something better to do with their time. Mitsuko would do the same if she didn’t use those opportunities to hide out at the top of the bleachers and nap instead, as it’s much easier to get away with sleeping if she does it when none of the teachers much care what they do anyway. Mitsuru usually texts her where they’ll be if she wants to join them just the same; their friendship goes back to before they became like they are now.

“Boredom. Also, Izumi wanted to watch, and it’s her turn to pick what we do with our evening, so here we are.” Mitsuru rolls a shoulder, the corner of his mouth lifting in a what are you gonna do? expression. Mitsuko understands; his friendship with Izumi means a lot to him. “What about you, Suko? You and yours don’t do sporting events, at least I thought you didn’t.”

“Too lazy and tired to do anything else,” she explains, and Mitsuru makes a noise to show her he understands, chuckling when she removes her flask from her pocket and takes a sip. “I don’t even know how long these things are supposed to last. Why does Izumi want to watch, anyway?”

Mitsuru shrugs, and Mitsuko takes that as good enough. They watch the students run in silence.

The track meet lasts much longer than Mitsuko expects it to, as darkness has already begun creeping into the sky when it’s finally over. She rejoins her group of friends to leave, bidding Mitsuru goodbye with a little wave, rolling her eyes when he blows her a kiss. Mayumi looks like she wants to ask but doesn’t, and really that’s the best for all of them.

“Walk away, Kazushi,” she hears when they’re heading for the fence to leave.

“Chigusa, you did such a good job!” The petulant, whiny voice grates on her nerves far more than it should, and she turns without knowing why. “I just wanted to tell you that, that’s all!”

“I asked you to stay away.” Takako Chigusa does not play games. “Now get away from me.”

Kazushi Niida has never been a bright person. Mitsuko has picked up that fact, along with several others about him, in the short amount of time she has been unfortunate enough to know him. So when he takes a step toward Takako and grabs her by the arm, it’s only natural her instinct is going to be to rip herself away from him. Mitsuko is quietly proud of her but says nothing until Kazushi reaches for her again. At this point, Mitsuko crushes her cigarette beneath her shoe and takes several long strides forward. She knows what happens when girls are preyed upon.

She grabs Kazushi by the shoulder and when he turns around to see who has come up behind him, she catches him with a solid right hook that sends him sprawling out on his ass. He howls, covering his now bloodied nose with his hands, and Mitsuko stalks closer to him, feeling like a predator measuring her prey and smirking when he scrambles away from her.

Takako steps forward, catching her by her upper arm. “Thanks for the help, Souma, but I—” And then Mitsuko’s mind goes white static when the entire world explodes into color. She doesn’t have time to think about what this means, not really. She goes on instinct alone, yanking her arm away, whirling around, and bolting fast enough that even some of the track runners make admiring noises.

Mitsuko turns her cell phone off as soon as she gets home, ignoring the voicemails and text messages as she tosses her bag on the floor and flops backwards on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her room has color now. Everything has color now.

This was not supposed to happen, not in a million years. She was never supposed to find the person who would be her one and only, not when she was intent on living her life alone. In the back of her mind, she has enough self-awareness to be relieved it’s a girl instead of a boy. She might be able to fuck them without thinking too much about it, but the idea of being with a man permanently for the rest of her life does not sit well with her. Then again, being with someone, at all, had never been a part of the plan. She never wanted something like that.

There were reasons, reasons upon reasons why she would never make a competent soulmate for anyone in the entire world. She never believed in anything close to unconditional love, never believed that she has the capacity to love other people. Why should she even bother trying?

Out of the sake of curiosity and nothing more, she digs last year’s yearbook out from under her bed and flips through the pages until she finds the track team. Takako has her track suit on and Mitsuko is unsurprised to find the blinding color is actually a very bright yellow. Against her tanned skin and her black hair, the color is more than fitting.

Mitsuko shakes her head, shuts the yearbook, and crams it back beneath her bed. The weekend is here at least, so she can spend the next few days drinking away the tightness in her gut and the ache in her chest. No one will care if she ignores her soulmate and decides not to let fate guide her future. After all, she can take care of herself.

When she shows up to school on Monday morning, still sporting a killer hangover and unwilling to part with the earbuds whose music is keeping her awake, Takako Chigusa is standing at her locker. Her hair is up today, some kind of twisted shape that would look elegant with better clothes than her school uniform. Mitsuko heaves a sigh; she knew she would have to deal with this.

“You don’t need to tell me, Chigusa,” she says, waving for her to move. “I’m not interested.”

Takako scoffs at her and catches her by the arm; Mitsuko pauses, staring at her. “What if I am?”

“What would you have to be interested in?” Mitsuko shakes her off, fiddles with her combination lock until the door swings open. She keeps waiting for Takako to just give up and walk away from her. “A burnout who spends her free time drinking and jumping people and stealing. I’m not really cut out to be with anyone longterm, much less someone like you.”

Takako is quiet for a moment, then smiles and cocks her head to the side, raising her eyebrows. “You never struck me as the type to just give up on something before you even tried,” she says, and Mitsuko stares at her, in the middle of hanging her jacket up. “Maybe we aren’t suited to be with each other, but the least we could do is give it a shot and see for ourselves.”

In the end, Takako’s suggestion sinks home and Mitsuko agrees. She never saw herself as the type to fall for someone like Takako, someone so perfect and put together, as rough around the edges as herself but in an entirely different and more attractive way. No one asks Mitsuko why she insistently drags her friends to the track meets week after week, or why Takako one day walks into the building with Mitsuko’s favorite jacket draped over her shoulders.

#battle royale #mitsuko souma #takako chigusa #*f: mine #*f: br #*f: mitsuko #*f: takako #*f: soulmate au

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