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a-is-for-abel · 3 years

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"“I’m moving.” He froze, glancing up at his friend. The other boy’s eyes were gleaming with suppressed sobs, breath hitching and jaw clenched. “Mom got a job in another state and we’re moving in a month.”

Inspired by this prompt by @givethispromptatry

Sand and shells crunched under the belly of the kayak as it ran aground. With a wobble and a curse he tumbled into the water, paddle floating away from him and kayak shooting off in the opposite direction.

"Fuck."

He scrambled to collect both, tossing the paddle up onto the beach and grabbing the handle at the bow of the kayak to tow it onto shore.

"You're late."

He rolled his eyes and glanced over his shoulder to see Warren in all his cut-offs and sandals glory. "And you're early."

Warren crossed his arms. "I'm literally the most on time, dude."

"Whatever, just-- Help me grab the stuff."

He popped open the watertight chamber in front of the seat and reached into the belly of the kayak, all while Warren struggled to pull the backpack out from under the cage of bungee cords at the front.

"Just unhook them, dude," he said, his cellphone and two unopened cream sodas finally in hand.

"Don't tell me how to do it."

"It's not going to--"

"Shit!" Warren yelped, recoiling and clutching his hand.

"Told you."

Warren flicked him off, but turned to do what he said anyway.

"Come on, suns gonna start setting soon." He grabbed his backpack from Warren and stuffed the drinks and his phone inside.

"What? Afraid of some gators?"

"No," he said. "Rather a gator than my dad."

Warren grimaced. "He still got you on that curfew?"

"Yup."

He picked his way through the mangrove thicket that cut the beach off from the rest of the spoil island. The roots of the black mangroves jutted up like fingers through the sand and the stilts of the red mangroves tried their best to snag his feet as he ducked under the sprawling web of an orb weaver hidden in their midst. Thankfully, it cleared out past the initial wall of foliage, becoming more barren with only the occasional thicket.

He remembered when his dad had led them through here the first time and explained that the mangroves kept the spoil islands standing. That when hurricanes and storms threatened to wash them away, their roots would act like a little army, keeping off any barrage and harboring whatever took up shelter under them.

He frowned. His dad and him hadn't come out here since--

"Fuck, fuck, fu--" Warren sputtered behind him, high-pitched.

"Web?" he asked, glancing back to see Warren flinching away from a tree.

"Yeah, fuck--" Warren brushed his arms off frantically and patted at his hair. "Fucking spiders all over the fucking place, man. They call it Mosquito Lagoon, but it really should be spider god damn la-- Fuck!"

"Nice one, ‘spider god damn la-fuck’ really has a special sort of ring to it."

Warren shot him a glare and dusted off his shoulders and the front of his shirt with quick flicks. "You owe me for psychological damages..."

"Come on, we used to come out here all the time."

"When I was like ten! And with your dad!" Warren cowered away from another web that sprawled from a lone tree. "And I didn't have as much free real estate for a spider to like, you know-- Crawl all over me or whatever."

"Free real estate?"

"Yeah, you know the whole--" Warren gestured vaguely. "The meme."

"God, please stop," he groaned. "That shits like, what, twenty-seventeen? That's like ancient history, man."

"It's a classic."

"Sure," he muttered. "A classic."

"Whatever, man, you're just not cultured."

He scoffed. "That's definitely it."

The other end of the island unfolded into a drop-off, all coquina and shells packed tightly together and built up into a mound that cut off abruptly into nothing. It was the highest point of the island-- of most of the spoils out here honestly-- even though it's small cliff had been eaten away and eroded over time, shrinking and shifting as the island shrank with the waves.

Dropping his backpack, he sat and dangled his legs over the edge, shoes knocking back against the coquina with a scratchy rasp. Warren plopped down beside him, keeping his legs folded and away from the plunge. Not that it was much of a sheer cliff. Only about eight feet down at the most, but enough that it felt like a lot. Compared to the average of three feet below sea level for the rest of the mainland; eight feet felt pretty fucking huge.

The tide lapped at the base of the island, the water hissing and coiling, writhing and alive where it squirmed through the holes bored through the coquina face and back out with a soft crackle. Crabs, tiny and mottled, darted in and around the rocks and he could see finger mullet, their scales flashing as they turned and twisted with the waves.

"You tied up your kayak, right?" Warren asked.

"Naw, but it should be fine. I pulled it up pretty far."

"I'm not sharing if you get stuck out here."

He frowned, shooting Warren his best puppy dog eyes. "You'd leave me out here?"

"Yes."

He chuckled. "Fair."

Seagulls drifted in lazy circles far overhead, the occasional cry working its way down to them as the birds banked with the wind, following the gusts up to where they could catch a glimpse of a meal beneath the water. One wheeled down in a sudden arc, wings folded close to its side as it plummeted, beak first, into the water with a snap and then back out with a spray.

"Man, tough luck..." Warren said. "Hate whenever they miss. Makes me feel kinda bad."

"They're just gonna go do what the rest do and steal some fries at the jetty once they realize it's easier than doing this."

"Yeah, but it's like-- I don't know, man. Just wish he'd get a win."

"You don't even know him!"

"I feel like we have a connection." Warren pointed at where the seagull had gone back to patrolling the waters. "Me and seagull number one thousand and three, we're like this--" He crossed his fingers.

"Shut up," he snorted.

They watched the seagull try again and fail.

Warren started up a running commentary after the third attempt, cupping a hand over his mouth to imitate the slight grain of a sports announcer's microphone as he dramatized the whole thing. When the seagull finally managed to snag a fish Warren cheered, arms thrown up in a touchdown motion that he copied with a grin.

"Hell yeah, dude!" Warren high-fived him.

"Where's all that enthusiasm for when you're at my games?" he asked.

"Come on, dude, you know I always cheer the loudest. You're just too far out on the field to hear me."

"I'm sure that's what it is."

"Whatever, man-- What'd you bring anyway?" Warren grabbed his backpack and began rummaging through it. "Oh shit! Gummy bears, dude! And the good kind, hell yeah!"

"Yeah, grabbed them before I came here. That's why I was late, idiot."

Warren tore open the package. "Crimes forgiven, man. This is worth it."

"Give me that--" He pulled his backpack out of Warren's lap. "I also got some soda, but I guess all you care about is your precious little bears."

"Naw, naw-- Hand that over."

"Rude much?"

"What? You want me to kiss you on the lips for it first, bro?"

He laughed. "Now, that would be the polite thing to do."

Warren puckered his lips at him and then snatched the soda. "Fuck off."

"Not even a little kiss?" he teased.

"You dragged me out to spider-fuck-nowhere, while it's ass fucking hot out and where it smells like rotting fish taint-- Just to watch the fucking sunset, when we could have sat on my roof and done the exact same thing-- You expect a kiss for that?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. Bro code."

Warren snorted. "Hand me a bottle opener, dip shit."

He popped open his own bottle and passed it over to Warren, who struggled for a moment before finally getting it with a triumphant 'whoop'. The mixture of saccharine flavored soda and the slight rotting stench of algae, and whatever else the lagoon had to offer, wasn't exactly pleasant, but it wasn't terrible. It was familiar.

It was homely in it's off kilter sort of way.

"So, why'd you bring me out here anyways?" Warren asked.

He sighed and kicked his heel back against the coquina. "I’m moving.”

Warren sucked in sharply and he glanced over at him.

He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the water below his feet. "Dad got a job in another state and we’re moving in a month.”

"Dude…"

"I didn't know how to tell you. I just--"

"Is that why you decided it'd be a good idea to sneak out and go to that dumb party with me?" Warren asked, frowning.

"I figured it would be one of the last chances I had to do something fun, you know. Here. Before I just-- Leave all this shit forever. I mean, we're moving to fucking Ohio, man. Where the fuck am I gonna find a party on an island out there?"

"Right…"

"And look, fuck my dad--"

"Jake--"

"No, fuck him-- He didn't even--" he huffed. "Things were looking up, man. Varsity lacrosse in sophomore year, that's huge, dude. And I wasn't just the fucking loser kid in the back of class anymore and he just--"

"Works rough here, dude..." Warren cut him off, sighing. "Space programs taking a shit. Whole island's taking a shit, really. Plenty of people left the first time NASA tanked, remember? It's just… it happens, man."

"So, you're just fine with it then?" he asked, brows furrowing. "We're never going-- I'm never going to see you again and you're just okay with that?"

"It's not forever!" Warren said, throwing out his hands. "There's planes, man! It's the twenty first fucking century. We got phones, dude. We'll stay in touch."

He grit his teeth and looked down.

"Jake, bro. C'mon-- Look at me."

He met Warren's eyes.

"It's gonna be okay, dude." Warren said, smile wide, and he could see the little falter at the edges, but he didn't call him on it. "Look--" Warren held up his bottle. "We'll cheers on it."

"Cheers on what?"

"To staying in touch, to meeting up in the future. To staying friends and all that, I don't know."

"To you finally getting a boyfriend?"

"Actually, you know what, I'm not going to miss you at all."

"Come on--" he grinned, nudging Warren with his shoulder. "You'll miss me."

"Yeah," Warren chuckled, looking down with a small smile. "I will..."

His fingers tightened around the glass bottle in his hand, bottom lip threatening to worry between his teeth. "Look, let's do your dumb cheers thing before it gets too sentimental or whatever."

Warren sighed, seeming to shake himself off before raising his soda bottle above his head and towards the slowly setting sun. "To us."

"To us?" He wrinkled his nose. "Isn't that kinda cheesy?"

"Just shut up and do it."

"Fine..." he grumbled with a grin, raising his bottle to clink against Warren's. "To us."

//photo credit// me and my phone c. 2020 //

#writeblr #writing community #creative writing #fiction #prompt fill #prose #writers on tumblr #short story #writing #my writing #original work #sorry for the cursing #miss the spoil islands and the lagoon #Florida

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eclecticwordblender · 4 years

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Since @the-rambling-maiden gave me the kind of validation that makes one cry with joy. I couldn’t wait to publish part 2 of Mahabharata High School AU. Ik it’s too long I’m sorry 🥺.

Senior students in the limelight:

Yudhishthir:

The headboy.

Tries really hard to excell, still is barely above average.

Is driven by the idea that everyone likes him while most of his classmates find him plain annoying. Some of the teachers too.

Is the headboy because for some unknown reason Bheeshma likes him and no one likes to disagree with the principal. Dhritrashtra tried opposing but no one really listens to him.

this kid, Krishna ran a campaign that convinced everyone that Yudhishthir is the best headboy they could have. Without that he had no chance.

Everyone else just accepted and now listens to him because that’s what Krishna wants.

“Okay I’ll give a very interesting lecture in Moral science class.”

- everyone, even the teacher struggles to stay awake.

Draupadi:

Head girl.

Has witty comebacks to everything.

An all rounder.

Looking at her, everyone wonders why someone as under achieving as Yudhishthir gets to be the other school captain.

Changed her name to Panchaali. But everyone still calls her Draupadi. Doesn’t like it, but has made her peace with it.

Is already done with the world’s patriarchal ways which are the basis of the school’s sexist rule book.

Is EXTREMELY, EXTREMELY beautiful.

Once, some juniors went to the principal’s office and saw a picture of the first headmistress. They were all admiring her beauty while Draupadi walked in. And suddenly all the admiration shifted to her.

An iconic friendship quadrent of Arjuna, Satyabhama, Krishna and Draupadi exists right since they joined school.

Had a beef with the Geography teacher, Kunti because had a thing going with Arjuna for a while.

“🧚🏻‍♀️🥰 How are we ignoring our beloved head boy today?🥰🧚🏻‍♀️”

Arjuna:

Heart eyes uwu.

Soccer team captain.

Is some sort of a ladies man. However, always prioritises his ECAs and Krishna.

All rounder. Had the achievements to be head boy, definitely not the time.

Girls are always crushing on him.

Dated Draupadi in the freshman year, it didn’t work out. Is still best friends with her though.

Currently in a relationship with Subhadra, she’s two years younger, but our boi doesn’t really care because he’s so smitten by her. Bestfs still above her though.

Is Kunti’s favourite kid. Kunti is an actual sweetheart exclusively to him.

Everyone loves him.

Sometimes sick of all the attention he gets.

Major enimity with the soccer team’s vice captain, Karna.

“I WILL PROVE THE VICE CAPTAIN IS NO MATCH TO ME!”

Bheema:

Really tall, really husky, Fitness freak.

Still loves food more than right about anything.

There’s only one person he’d choose over food. The head girl. Some say he has had a crush on her since junior school. Draupadi values him a lot but doesn’t seem to reciprocate the attention he gives her.

Is stupid, but it’s okay because he’s also the good-est boy in town.

Not very bright academically.

Doesn’t get the recognition he deserves.

Literally the BEST basketball player, but all everyone in school seems to care about is soccer and track events :/.

Has anger management issues which land him into trouble very often.

“Panchaali! You should be proud of me, I prevented a murder today, BY CONTROLLING MY ANGER.”

Nakul:

Is a year younger to everyone in his class.

Really cute, really handsome. Is also well aware about this.

Is not much of a ladies man but SO MANY PEOPLE have crushes on him.

Is practically never seen without his guitar and bestf, Sahadev, who is the only one who shares his birth year.

Can be found giving out personalised skin care routines for fun. And Sahadev, being the brains of the duo, charges in cash, that is how both of them get their pocket money.

Goes to the restroom after every period to make sure his hair are still on point.

Has a successful band. Obviously he’s the lead.

“Wow! Who is this beauty!? Oh my God! This is why I use mirrors as mood boosters.”

Sahadev:

Smartest kid in the school. School topper.

Can talk about random trivia for hours, and people like listening to him.

Is either in the library or hanging out with Nakul.

Hates school A LOT.

Sahadev doesn’t attend a lot of classes because he knows teachers aren’t of any help to him.

Always attends maths class, even though he doesn’t like Sir Shakuni. Prolly because he wanted to be Shakuni’s fav but Shakuni only likes the bad boys. Sigh.

Is a walking human encyclopaedia.

“Why is everyone so stupid!? I WANNA GO HOME! I HATE YOU ALL! (Except my boi Nakul).”

Krishna:

(Ik everyone in the fandom loves him v much. Please don’t hate me for this.)

Manipulative to a point its very toxic.

Doesn’t like taking responsibilities and being held accountable

so just tricks people who take up responsibility into listening to him.

The OG heart eyes in the campus.

Still ships Draupadi and Arjuna for some reason. Even though he treats Arjuna’s girlfriend as his younger sister.

So stubborn.

Is good at everything but doesn’t like the lime light.

A Krishna-Shakuni Feud is the best source of entertainment.

Krishna seems to think that every body who disagrees with him is absolutely wrong and would go any length to make a point. Is also sort of disrespectful to the teachers he doesn’t like.

However, has a very captivating charm that makes him most people’s favourite. Shakuni sees through his well planned schemes because he has fully functional brain cells.

Loves his friendship quadrant and a girl from some other school who visits often, a lot.

A feminist. Hates the school’s rule book in a positive manner.

“🧚🏻‍♀️🥰 What mischief should I do today? And how do I trick someone into thinking it was their idea, not mine?🥰🧚🏻‍♀️”

Karna:

Soccer team vice captain.

Here on a scholarship.

Every girl with daddy issues is head over heels for him.

Uses Hating Arjuna as a personality trait.

Also uses his love for Duryodhana as another personality trait.

Has lots of rumours about him. He doesn’t care because all he cares about is defeating Arjuna.

A lot of students ship Draupadi with him. It’s just stupid. Both of them dislike each other, but are too evolved to care about stupid rumours.

Is extremely generous.

Since the owner’s kid, who is RICH is his bestf, he never misses a chance to slide a meal from the overpriced canteen to any one who forgot lunch.

Suffers from classism and tries very hard to fight the inferiority complex he gets because most kids around are super rich.

Dronacharya dislikes him, he dislikes him back, however, still tries to win him.

Has abandonment issues.

Some say he looks upto Ma’am Kunti for validation.

The cricket coach, Pashuram, likes this kid though.

“Are you challenging me Arjuna!?”

Duryodhan:

Thinks too highly of himself.

Being the owner’s kid makes up for half his personality. The other half is his devotion towards his beloved Karna.

Is probably bi and Has a not so subtle crush on his bestf.

Has another personality that is devoted to trying to convince everyone he should be head boy.

He once started an intervention demanding “Duryodhana should be headbody” and he was also the leader on the intervention. Karna was unwillingly in his support.

Is Sir Shakuni’s favourite bratty kid.

Only listens to Shakuni or Karna.

Comes up with evil and downright mean mischiefs but always fails.

He once tried to full on flirt with Draupadi but got his a*s whooped.

Tried to sabotage Yudhishthir’s reputation but Krishna’s interference led him to fail.

“Where’s Mitr Karna!?!? I get anxiety when I don’t have him or Sir Shakuni around for long!”

“I should be headboy! No head girl. Karna should be headboy 2.”

Dushasan:

Befriended Duryodhana first year of school.

Looks up to Duryodhana. Only imitates his bad qualities. That’s it, that’s his entire personality.

Even Shakuni who loves bratty kids, dislikes this one.

Has more haters than the headboy. Except people hate on him openly.

Total failure.

A bully.

Dushasana can be found in the last room on the third floor of the oldest block very often. That’s the detention room.

Tries to flirt with every girl around, and girls just ew this creep AS THEY SHOULD.

Doesn’t have a personality of his own.

“Dury Bro! HOW DID YOU DO THAT? CAN I TOO PLEASE?”

Sikhandi/Sikhandini:

FEMINIST.

Gender fluid and ready to teach a lesson to anyone who invalidates her.

Strong and independent.

Important member of the soccer as well as the cricket team.

Also, a star athelete.

Has a very strong bonding with Ma’am Amba because VERY similar.

Sikhandi/Sikhandni can be seen gossiping with Amba on the stair case a lot, some claim to have heard them trash talk Bheeshma.

Bold and not afraid to stand for what they believes in without caring about the consequences.

Once they gave herself a third ear piercing, using a compass when Kunti told her a double piercing was a distraction after Yudhishthir complained about it.

Emerges as a parent figure to juniors who are bullied for being different.

“As long as you have the right intentions you’re valid okay?”

Drishtdyum:

Introvert.

Minds his own business.

Manages good grades and a spot in the sports squad.

He found out he shared his birthday with the Draupadi in second grade. Loves her like a sister since then.

The basketball coach sees some spark in him that no one else does.

Is liked by all but doesn’t get the attention he deserves.

Is pretty content with life in General.

Ashwatthama:

Soccer coach’s kid.

Is self aware.

Realistic and practical.

Suffers from major attention deprivation.

Duryodhan lent him a pencil case in second standard. Asshwatthama tries so hard to become his favourite ever since.

The Iconic Karna Dury duo however, ignore almost always.

Expanded the “Duryodhana should be headboy” intervention but his efforts weren’t recognised.

Closeted gay.

Respects superiors while disliking them.

Quite bitter.

“Will this win me Duryodhan’s love?”

Subhadra:

Eyes like forest pools.

Looks up to Draupadi as a role model.

Arjuna is her weakness even though she’s dating him.

Kunti likes her. Doesn’t mind if she’s dating Arjuna.

There’s this brilliant student in the junior section, Abhimanyu. Subhadra and Arjuna spend a lot of time with him together. They sort of look like a very happy family.

Always tops English and History class.

Gossip queen xoxo.

“Draupadi Didi and Krishna bhaiya said so, Arjuna you know I cannot say no to them.”

Dushala:

Is the sweetest person around.

Believes there is some good in every person.

Even hangs out with Duryodhana and squad thinking they’ll change some day.

Karna and Dushala often discuss how to mend this group’s ways, assisted by Dury’s girlfriend, Bhanumati.

Is stuck in a relationship with a jerk but doesn’t have the heart to break up with him.

Is literally kindness personified.

Dushala’s favourite teacher is Gandhaari. Probably because no one else gives the teacher validation and Dushala doesn’t like when someone is sad.

Jayadaratha:

Terrible person.

Only the size of a grain of sand better than Dushasana.

Started Dating Dushala Sophomore year.

Dushala really wants to break up with this jerk but she’s too sweet to hurt someone even as terrible as him so she just avoids him.

Once Draupadi slapped him in public. Dushala cheered the loudest.

Is only relevant because of his girlfriend.

Bhanumati:

Says Duryodhana is an excellent boyfriend.

Corrects her man when he’s wrong.

Is also close friends with Karna.

Led the intervention against the “Duryodhana should be headboy intervention.”

It hurt Dury but it’s okay because Bhanumati has her own thoughts and he respects that. Guess he is actually a good boyfriend.

“OMG DURY!!!! STOP IT! KARNA HOW DO WE STOP DURY FROM DOING ANOTHER F*CK UP?”

Yuyutsu:

Is very lovable.

Boy has no hater.

Somehow was befriended by Duryodhan in junior school.

Feels stuck in the Dury gang ever since.

Secretly, very strongly admires Yudhishthir, Arjuna, Draupadi and of course, KRISHNA.

Is everything you’d wanna fix in Yudhishthir.

Yuyutsu, Dushala and Vikarna trio is bff goals.

“Is there any way I can change my friend group? Face palms”

Vikarna:

Counsels Duryodhana on Yuyutsu’s advise.

There isn’t much to say about him. Dude’s a good guy with humanly flaws.

Feels stuck in Dury gang but has made his peace with their ways.

Dushala, Yuyutsu and Vikarna are often found gossiping with Ma’am Gandhaari, she often warns them about how their other friends are bad kids and they should not get influenced.

“Why!? Because yuyutsu says so that’s why!”

Eklavya:

Here on scholarship.

This poor kid was bullied so much initially when he joined school because of his economic status.

Coach Drona wouldn’t let him into the soccer team because he’s afraid someone might out shine his favourite.

Stays away from the dirty politics in school.

Became a star athelete despite all the odds he faced.

Eklavya was once locked in the washroom before a 100m race on the sports day. No one knows who did that for sure. Although some people claim to know it was Coach Drona.

Rukmini:

President of the theatre club.

Crushes on Krishna for an unknown duration.

Krishna does give her attention because EXCUSE ME, she is impossible to ignore.

Rukmini befriended Nakul in the corridors as they bumped into each other after every period, while going to/coming from the washroom to check their respective hairdos.

Satyabhama:

Is Draupadi’s psychological twin.

President of the debating society.

Another one of Krishna’s closest friends.

The school is full of Satyabhama-Krishna shippers. But their friendship quadrant knows Krishna is smitten by this girl from some other school.

Radha:

The girl from some other school.

Probably goes to an all girls convent school.

Is shy but can be seen having a a gala time with Krishna after school. Friends w Subhadra too.

Nobody in school knows much about her but it’s evident Krishna and her are 11/10 soulmates uwu.

Rukmi:

Rukmini’s twin brother.

Is overly protective of his sister.

Thinks he’s well sorted but almost always creates a mess.

Has some sort of minor feud with Krishna.

Is neck deep in a very toxic friendship with Shishupal.

Shishupal:

Rebel without a cause.

A headache.

Wants to fight Krishna but is scared of him.

Wants to join the Dury gang but no on lets him in.

Shishupal is known to spread the most problematic rumours in school.

Hidimbi:

Stays occupied in her small social circle of not so popular kids.

She’s famous, though doesn’t talk to many people.

Proposed to Bheem in middle school.

Bheem gently turned her down because he was already mad about Draupadi. Hidimba moved on with life without sulking about it. Probably still likes him though.

Also, really close to this Ghatotkutch person who is in fifth grade.

Ulupi and Chitrangada:

Dated Arjuna for a few weeks each.

Then bonded over how he’s not a good boyfriend and not as perfect as everyone thinks he is. they do have a point though.

Are now bestfs and don’t like anyone else in school.

Since, I’m an attention wh*re tagging: @bigheadedgirlwithbigdreams @soniaoutloud @supermeh-krishnafan @incorrectmahabharatquotes @chaanv @hoeticulture @lemponkoira @1nsaankahanhai-bkr

Also, link to part 1: https://eclecticwordblender.tumblr.com/post/625462681921568768/foundation

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isobel-thorm · 3 years

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So this ‘Rebooting’ breadcrumb has got me all up in my thoughts about the SR gang (ha) and I realized I never did the thing I was going to do for Reiss, so here it is... like, three years in the making. Whoops.

Cats in the Cradle

Reiss Abernathy reflects on his struggle with single fatherhood in Stilwater and coming into power in Steelport as he watches his daughters climb the ranks of the 3rd Street Saints and make the same mistakes in life he did.

Reiss Abernathy knew he wasn’t a good father. Sure, he didn’t qualify as the Worst, but he didn’t make it on the ‘average’ list. Maybe not even subpar. He and Anna had been a mistake from the start, so when they had two children by the time they were just getting into college and Anna had proceeded to cut and run, leaving the kids with him, there hadn’t exactly been high hopes. He had been a lost soul even back then, so he had bought them a shitty little house in the shady area of Stilwater and tried. Until he realized that raising a baby and a preschooler all on his own with no leads in life was harder than expected. And so he had stopped aiming for a reputable career and had decided to fall in with some… less than decent people. But the money was good and if he kept his mouth shut and his head down, even better.

He had met Leo that Summer; an FBI agent with a quick wit, a sharp tongue, and a knack for justice… … for the highest bidder. Still, that tended to be him as of late, so they were fast friends. It didn’t hurt that he was fantastic with kids without any less than savory motive. He’d go out for drinks with Reiss towards the end of the week, go on whatever make-believe adventure five-year-old Quinn had cooked up for him and little Audrey for the day until she was exhausted, and headed home.

As the years passed Leo had become more of a father to the girls than he ever was, and Reiss knew it. A lack of a nine to five day and dangerous work made for him coming home exhausted, content to do the bare minimum to make sure the girls lived another day. Leo would stop by after his shift and the Bureau and pick up the slack, asking them how their school days were, who their friends were, and all that, while Reiss nursed his wounds and headed to sleep early, cutting in on a question when he could.

Then the teenage years hit, the girls found their voices and… it had been less than ideal.

Quinn was filled with rage, fighting him on everything with an insult or a nasty comeback to almost anything he said.

Audrey, ever the peacemaker, had tried to mediate things to the best of her pre-teen ability.

They didn’t deserve her.

And then a job offer from one of those questionable types came in- a spot as muscle for a ‘group’ in Steelport with steadier and better pay than what he was making, so he had jumped on it.

The girls were old enough to be left alone, and he was only a couple of hours away, he’d visit often. They’d probably be better off on their own with Leo stepping in on occasion anyway.

And despite Leo’s initial reservations and meaningfully disapproving looks, it had worked. He had become an eventual heavy hitter in the Steelport Saints and things were looking up.

Until one night that Leo had called him in a measured panic because the girls had been in the wrong place at the wrong time - ‘they’re fine, relatively unhurt. But I think Julius Little tried to recruit them, and… I think they’re gonna do it, Reiss. Quinn looked pretty tempted.’ He had heard of the man. There had been a gang in town that was slowly coming into their own- the Saints, if he recalled. It was headed by that man. He had met him in passing a few times. Smart man - that’s what made him lethal. He had gone and joined a gang to try to keep his girls out of one, and now they had apparently fallen in with one anyway.

He had told Leo to keep an eye on things and he had rushed home - only for Quinn to just about cut him off at the pass at every single protest. She had been tempted by whatever the Hell he had missed. Quinn liked power, and while Audrey seemed less convinced, she had been very adamant in telling him that where Quinn went, she would go - she had raised him more than he did. A hunger for power even if it came from shady sources, unyielding loyalty to favorites, ‘stick to your convictions’ - how did that song go? ‘And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me, he'd grown up just like me, my boy was just like me’ - that had rung true here and now, and it had almost undone him then and there. He had protested at first - and Quinn had thrown a bottle at his head. When Audrey had gone to step in he had barely had time to yank her out of the way and behind him to protect her from the second one that Quinn had sent flying. He really had lost Quinn then. He had arranged a meeting with Julius after that, trying to gauge if they were in any further danger than… The Life had called for. The two he had talked to- a skinny guy clearly from Brooklyn- Troy, the one Audrey had talked about all the time and apparently taken a liking to, and some guy who thought visors were still a decent fashion choice- Dex, if he recalled correctly. Quinn had name dropped him once. Something about the man unnerved him. He had constantly felt like he was getting sized up. Regardless, he had made his case for a meeting, had named all the right people from the Knights, and Julis himself had called off his two guard dogs to talk to the man. He had initially been condescending, drawing attention to the fact that a father was trying to run interference with his two ‘grown-ass children.’ Reiss had laughed it off, saying that if he had been a decent father ages ago, maybe that would’ve been the case, but no. He wanted to get a feel of the group, make sure they weren’t signing up for disaster.

Julius hadn’t been convinced, but he had let the guy walk away after their talk, so there had been that. Still, there was something disarmingly fatherly about the man. He briefly thought of Leo with him, wondering if the girls would be better off without him and with the other two regardless, so he had taken his turn to cut and run. But at least they were just short of adults by then. He returned to the Knights, and asked Leo to keep tabs. And as he had climbed the ranks in the Knights, evidently the girls had done the same in the Saints. Like father, like daughters. And when the current Boss of the Knights had gone after him in a grab for power, pulling a gun on him, he had won that fight and earned his place at the top, and felt on top of the world to boot, his world had come crashing down when Leo had called him shortly after, evidently a drunken mess, and informed him that the ‘Saints had been up to no good on the Mayor’s boat the previous night, there had been an Accident, and the girls were on death’s door, and he needed to get there now.’

And so he had. And when he had reached the hospital, the people at the desk had been very adamant that ‘one of the girls’ hadn’t said anything about any other family ‘besides Leonidas’, nor had they been informed of anybody by Julius Little. He had made a mental note of that, content that he would make Julius pay for his lie until the rest of the statement caught up with him. One? What the Hell did that mean? Had one of them died? He had opened his mouth to start asking all the questions when he had heard Leo’s voice behind them and turned so quickly he nearly tripped over his own feet.

And there Leo was, arm tucked securely around Audrey’s shoulders as she leaned against him to walk. She had stitches on a couple of spots on her head and she was bruised to all Hell, but she was alive. He had run to her then, gathered her into his arms and hugged her, trying not to sob, blubbering apologies as he heard her hiss in pain, but she didn’t move to pull away either. He had been angry then, casting an accusatory look at Leo and demanding why he hadn’t been mentioned as their actual father, until Audrey had stuck up for him, claiming she wasn’t sure if Reiss would show, and his heart shattered again. He had failed them. So badly.

And then she had caught him up on everything. The Mayor had tried to set the Saints up, but he had been smarter and rigged the thing to blow up. The only reason she had gotten minor damage compared to Quinn, who was hanging on by a thread because she had been at the exact brunt of it was that that Troy kid had called to tell her to keep away from the boat- and had confessed he was an undercover cop all along.

Again, one was determined, lethal, headstrong, and the other was level headed but also had a knack for getting attached to surprise cops. He had looked at Leo then, who gave him the same exact look he was sporting back. They really were his children.

Leo had put him up for a few nights after that, waiting for Audrey to get discharged, and once she did he had taken her back to their new, shiny apartment- apparently the Saints had been good to her- he had made a few meals and fussed over her until she had said she appreciated it but it was almost, almost too late to care. Still, ‘almost almost’ was better than ‘definitely.’ He had asked her to tell him about her ‘cop friend’ after that and she had gone rigid and dismissive, claiming he was dead to her now.

Extreme, but understandable. Maybe she had more sense than him after all.

She had fallen asleep with her head pillowed on his thigh that night, and his heart had shattered all over again.

Of course, the next morning his second in command in the Knights had informed him that someone was trying to make a grab for power. Evidently, not having learned anything in all that had happened, he had left again. The last thing he wanted was instability on both fronts of his life. He had left a furious, protesting Leo to look after the girls again and headed back to retain his throne. He justified his own actions by promising himself he’d keep a closer eye on things in Stillwater in the meantime.

And to his credit, he did. When Quinn woke up and broke herself out of the prison hospital, he had watched the news unfold nonstop. And then had been proud when the girls had gotten back all the footing in the city they had lost in the time since Quinn was in a coma and Audrey had been laying low.

When he was keeping his throne secure, his girls ascended closer to theirs. Quinn was thriving now, and last he heard she was the Big Boss, and if he wasn’t careful, she’d come for Steelport. Audrey was apparently perfectly comfortable in her spot of being third in command in the Saints, and that was probably exactly why she was the smartest one in the family.

He had been thrilled that things had evened out for a while, until once again Leo had called him in a panic because things were certainly not fine. Quinn had apparently shot Audrey in a power grab to ensure that her and some Johnny fellow wouldn’t have to deal with anything, and Reiss’ world shattered again.

It occurred to him then, finally, that perhaps his influence had been the problem, and maybe it was best if he had stayed away for good.

Leo had been livid, hurling insults immediately about being a ‘goddamn father for once in your life’ and such. When Reiss had insisted that’s what he was doing, distance might’ve been good, might have served them well, maybe they would grow to resent him entirely, to grow and make sure they were his polar opposite. That had apparently diffused Leo enough. He had gone sympathetically quiet for a while. And then his dear, loyal, Leo had made an offer Reiss knew pained him as much as hearing it himself did: “I can kill Quinn. If you think this is too much. If you think it’s too late. She loved that kid, if the old Quinn’s gone… … I’m not saying I will, but if there’s nothing of your daughter left… I can do it. If she’s crossed the line, you just tell me.”

That might have been the most heartbreaking thing yet. Leo was more of a father to the girls than he ever was, and here he was offering to end his own surrogate daughter’s life for threatening the other one. For becoming a problem for everyone.

“No. Just… she made her bed, let her lay in it,” Reiss had dismissed it. Then, carefully. “You’re the best man I know, you know that, right?”

Leo had laughed then, raw and pained. “That’s not saying much with the company we keep.”

“Just… keep an eye on things. I don’t want her dead, I just… keep Audrey safe if Quinn’s a lost cause.”

“I will. But that’s another thing. Audrey’s got that covered, too. I tailed her after she got shot. Didn’t hear me when I called her a few times. Get this: she’s with the fuckin’ police chief. That Bradshaw Fellow. He took her in with open bloody arms and probably a certain other choice appendage.’”

Reiss groaned in disgust at the implication and the fact that Leo had dared to say it- probably revenge for not being there. Still, he saw the irony. Audrey had two dirty cops in her life, and the pair of them were clean enough to not trust each other when it came to her. “Just… be her backup, then.”

“Fine. But it should be you.”

At least the man didn’t stab him in the back with that. “I know,” was what he went with before hanging up the phone.

And so he did as intended and steered clear for a couple of years. And despite meaning well, the gravity of all the time he had missed hit him hard. He kept track of everything, dimly aware that at some point Julius had been revealed to be the mastermind behind the boat bombing. He had been in the process of arranging a plane to Stillwater to go handle that himself, only to find out that Quinn had beaten him to it, murdering him at one of the old tourist spots. Audrey had evidently been content laying low with Bradshaw, and it had all been confirmed when Leo mentioned seeing the pair ‘looking awfully cozy’ when he passed the chief’s house and spotted them through the window a while back. ‘You’re practically a father-in-law.’

Leo, the rotten bastard. Always had a way of wording things to ruin every ounce of conviction he ever had. Father-in-law. How much of Audrey’s life had he missed willingly that she was a grown woman with a serious boyfriend? Christ, maybe he had been wrong. Maybe he was an awful father after all, despite having good intentions. He really had fucked up.

And so he made plans to go back to Stillwater just to catch up with them in person.

Of course, as per usual, his plan had backfired when Quinn and Audrey beat him to the punch - by dropping out of an aircraft carrier directly above his city, apparently on some rescue mission gone wrong.

He had thought they were threats at first with all of the gunfire going on. He recognized the Syndicate colors - a gang that was trying and failing to usurp him constantly now, and… were those Saints? No, the purple was off. But they had rebranded if the rumors were true, so there was that possibility. Still, he had gotten in a plane and had the pilot fly up to meet them in the conflict because no people were going to fuck with his city. That too had backfired when, after jumping out of the plane he had grabbed the nearest goon not flying any colors that was also falling, shoved a gun under his chin, only to see that the man had been tied up. The man was shouting protests now and he had known that voice. Sounded like an idiot, heavy with a Brooklyn accent. Fuck. Some reintroduction to the man that was supposedly on the fast track to being his son-in-law. He had opened his mouth to protest, only to get knocked clean off the man by another one - and he knew his youngest daughter’s voice too, once she started hurling insults and demanding that she ‘leave the other guy alone.’ He had made quick work of yanking open his visor to show his face, and Audrey had practically shrieked ‘Dad’, and well, at least that conflict was over. He still had no fucking idea what was going on.

He took small comfort in the fact that once they were on the ground, Audrey had kept him safe with cover fire when they had dispatched the leftover Syndicate members.

She caught him up once the last one was dead. This was an inter-gang conflict gone wrong. The Saints and Syndicate had gotten into a turf war. The Syndicate had taken hostages- even from ‘retired’ Saints, she had explained, motioning at herself and Troy before returning to the details. One of theirs was dead, a man named Johnny. He was apparently dearly loved by everyone, judging by the tone and everyone’s reactions.

It was then that Quinn had showed up, yanked her helmet off, pointed her gun straight at her father’s heart and announced that Steelport was hers now, because she needed every single Syndicate member dead for taking Johnny from them. Apparently he hadn’t been the only one keeping tabs.

It was in that moment that Reiss had promptly decided he was too old for this shit. Especially if his own blood was willing to murder him point blank. He had fucked up entirely, and now was the time to mend things. Better late than never, even if he had cut it close. “I still get a cut of everything, I still get to run the Blue Steel,” was his only request- the little venue he poured a lot of his soul into. He could handle letting his kid inherit his throne if he kept his life, his other kid’s life, and his lot in life.

Quinn had stared him down for a while, finger still resting on the trigger, and briefly Reiss figured this was it, he had tried and failed, and that just fucking figured. But then:

“Fine,” Quinn had lowered her gun. “Still fucking hate you.” She wandered off then.

Well, that was just going to have to work. “Okay.” He cut his losses then, and promptly turned to Troy. “Hi. You probably don’t remember me. Name’s Reiss. I’m Audrey’s father. ”

“Kinda figured.”

“Yeah. You and I should go get a drink sometime and get to know each other if we’re almost family.”

Troy stared at him for a few seconds, then glanced Audrey’s way. “Dree, what the fuck is happening here?”

Reiss waited a beat, then laughed as the perfect solution occurred to him then and there. A way to patch things up as much as possible without fucking it all up again.“Taking this as a retirement opportunity and making up for lost time,” he replied. He turned his attention to Audrey. “If the one who turned out the least like me will have me.”

She frowned at him, then after a beat, she sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, she’ll have you. Unless you disappear again.”

“Not a chance. Unless you want me to.”

Audrey looked from him, to Troy, to Quinn, staring out at the city skyline a few yards away, then back. “Then welcome to the Saints.”

Welcome to the Saints. Sounded a Hell of a lot like ‘welcome to the family’- meant nearly the same thing too, if his hunch was right. It was their family. Not his. But maybe that’s what they all needed to be their family again. Or for the first time, considering they weren’t much of one to the start. “Glad to be here.”

And for once, he realized he meant it entirely.

#Boss Reiss #also this fic is AKA #Leo: 'this isnt how we agreed to raise our kids'#Reiss: ' 'our' kids. Leo were not married'#Leo: 'We're a little married'#Reiss: 'I know. I love it'#which reminds me #Leo Ashford #Boss Quinn #Boss Audrey

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nobodyeverasked · 4 years

Text

00:00; mark tuan

(6293 words) - large

summary - there’s one small second where the world holds its breath. In that second, you feel okay.

Y/N tried to withstand the symphonies of the sunlight lulling him to sleep as he pinched himself through his sweatshirt sleeve and squinted at the projector ahead of him, really debating why he took Art History for the third year in a row despite how much he hated it. He needed the credit for his internship program in the summer, but he didn’t know he was going to have to withstand this kind of torment.

He let his sighs dissolve into the pages of his textbooks which piled up his heavy eyes and tried to focus on the man gesturing enthusiastically at a black and white picture of a historic art figure Y/N swore he saw two slides ago. Professor Cross was a tall, gaunt man with nothing in his wardrobe other than those sweater vests that were so washed out of their colour Y/N almost sympathised with them. They looked like they were tired of his lessons too; the threads bouncing around his writhing arms looking like they wanted to rip themselves off and hide away in the nearest washing machine. Y/N thanked them for staying on, though, he ran out of eyebleach when he had to sit through an entire presentation by the junkies behind him on why erotica is the pinnacle of artistry and how modern interpretation and segregational stigmatism is the bane of humanity.

Don’t worry, Y/N didn’t stay awake for that one either.

He almost gave into the sleepiness that pulled at his eyes and weighed down his shoulders until a head leaned onto his, and heard a dramatic huff he knew all too well. He combed those famous brown and blonde box-braids out of his face and turned to face the one person in this entire college he didn’t entirely dislike. Gloria Antoine. One of the only people that was there to dash to his front door and cook some month-old ramen from the back of his pantry and be there to hear his rants that seemed to only surface under the veil of the moonlight.

“Remind me why this is important…?” Gloria groaned and Y/N struggled to hide a chuckle in his sleeves. “I’m like, I get it, but why…?”

“You don’t find Cezanne’s works transcendent?” Y/N poked Gloria’s cheek before she lifted her head off his shoulder. “I wonder if Mcdonalds is still hiring?”

Gloria stifled a cackle and they both looked forward to the screen, letting the whispers of their laughter flutter around them and fuel the flames that lay smouldered under his fingertips. Y/N turned his hand over, the memories of the night prior still ingrained in his mind, still blessing every beat of his heart that pounded at the thought of the guy that made every second they spent together - in and out of each other’s arms - so special. Mark Tuan. He remembers the knot of devotion tied between them as they laid back on the hood of Mark’s mustang and looked at the canopies of ivory stars that gleaned like spotlights and spilled on their skin. He remembers Mark taking his lips with his own and the cold metal under them rendering itself useless. Mark was the arms of sanctuary that wound around his waist and would never let go. The feeling of safety and freedom, the moments that made Y/N feel like a bird soaring through a cloudless heaven.

Mark was his everything, the vows of affection that tumbled out of them on their lazy Fridays, the sheets between them that scorched their bodies and drowned them in the waves of their own admiration. He was almost too good to be true sometimes. He sometimes felt so unworthy to feel the heat under Mark’s fingertips, to be scorched by the skin that runs so sweet under his tongue, like the stars under Mark’s skin always shone too bright, were always too beautiful for Y/N’s skies whenever they aligned.

Even so, he couldn’t wait for the bell to sound so he could fall into Mark’s embrace, drown himself in the haze of coffee and cherries that always reminds him of the clementine skies they shared on rooftops together, brings him back to when they had the golden sunlight carve out their leather-studded kisses in the sands.

Their nights draped in the Shanghai moonlight are all just a blur now, blissful memories that hang on the edge of their tongues-

The bell sent Y/N careening out of his trance and up to the students that scrambled for the exit, hoping to escape the clutches of black coffee are boredom that swelled in the room like pungent stench. He could hear Gloria whoop before jumping out of her seat and tossing her back over her shoulder, barely able to contain her excitement for the fact that this lesson was finally over. She tugged at Y/N’s arm, gesturing her head to the door and Y/N followed her out, the stiff smile he held out to Professor instantly falling off his face as he stepped through the doorway like a breath he didn't know he was holding.

He followed Gloria to her locker where her friends waited there expectantly, tapping away at their phones to distract themselves from the concept of socialization. Abbey - the blond one…? He didn’t remember - greeted Gloria with a hug and an avalanche of words came tumbling from their lips, frantic chatter taking over their small circle. Y/N just leaned onto the lockers behind them, taking in all of the latest ‘tea’ Abbey had to spill, wishing he could take in the melodies of his midnight conversations with Mark instead. Gloria snatched him down from the clouds of euphoria that began to swallow him up and wrapped her arm around his shoulders, bringing him back into the circle and turning him towards a new girl that he somehow didn’t notice stepping into their conversation. The shy hunch in her shoulders and the demure shimmers in her hazel eyes danced in the amber sunlight contorting to the busting chatter going on around them.

Was she Abbey…? Or was she Britney…? He didn’t remember, and he genuinely didn’t know if he wanted to care.

“Hey Y/N, this is Stella, she’s new here and I met her in my Bio class.” Gloria gestured towards the girl whose eyes were taken over with a flourish of confidence as she heard Y/N’s name.

“This is Y/N?” Stella’s smile was weirdly wide and brilliant. Y/N just smiled back awkwardly, Gloria’s arm that comfortingly wound around his shoulders failing to shed the shivers of awkwardness that slithered down his spine. “You’re the one that’s dating Mark, right?” Stella stepped closer, he could see the brilliance of admiration shine in her eyes, light up her smile. The same light which ignited every one of Mark’s laughs as they swayed in their living room, the light that wound around them and dyed their most cherished memories, the light that was caught between their lips as they sealed their kisses in their indigo night. “Oh my God, Mark Tuan… I’m sad he transferred schools, he’s so hot.” Gloria could feel Y/N tense up and opened her mouth to cut in, but Y/N stopped her with a shrug.

“Yeah, he’s pretty amazing.”

“I know we just met, but I’m gonna be honest with you Y/N. Just for the one-time.” Stella building up her statement didn’t help the blissful toxins that bloomed under the violet tapestries of Mark’s admiration adorning Y/N’s chest from running bitter like as and stinging with regret. “I have no idea how you copped that. You’re lucky as hell.”

“Well, Mark’s pretty lucky too, Stella. Y/N can actually stay awake in art history.”

“Thanks Gloria��” Y/N shook his head. Gloria was always there to be his hype-woman when he needed her. “It’s not that impossible, right?” He turned back to Stella, trying not to let the doubts that boiled in his stomach and spilled out in smokescreens in his mind leech into his resolve too much. Y/N forced down a frown, trying not to snarl in the face of Stella’s unyielding persistence to make his kisses on mark’s skin feel paper thin, feel stone cold, like the paradise in his hands that Mark said was always there was nothing but a mirage.

“I mean-”

Gloria slammed her locker closed with a nudge of her knee and whipped her head towards Stella. “Thanks for the Ted Talk, Stella, but Y/N and I need to get going. I’ll see you girls tomorrow.” She didn’t pull back the punch of her glare into Stella’s hazel eyes as she nudged Y/N around the corner, taking his hand and escaping the estrogen-fest that did nothing but beat Y/N down. “I’m sorry, Y/N. We were vibing in Bio, I don’t know what happened.” Gloria shifted her gaze over to Y/N, his resolve crumbling in one defeated sigh. Y/N tried to focus on the clicking of Gloria’s heels against the white tile floors of the hallway before pushing his words past his teeth.

“It’s okay, Gloria.” He tried not to let her words bite too deep into his skin, to keep the stars under his skin that would always wait to align with Mark’s from fading in the whirlwinds of Stella’s words that kept Y/N with his fist clenched in his pocket and the hold on his textbook tightened to his chest. “How did I get a man like Mark? He’s literally everything, and I’m just a guy with a seventy average and a dream laid to waste..” Y/N stopped walking, gaze trained to the shine in the freshly waxed floors and the reflection of his eyes that held too many questions and not enough answers. Gloria froze where she stood and snapped her head to her best friend, someone usually so confident, so in love with themselves in others, now his voice was barely above a whisper fading in their breaths that echoed in their silence. She grabbed his shoulders, and brought his gaze up to hers, looking at him with a wildfire of determination lapping at her dark brown eyes.

“Hey, I know it’s been hard cause everyone seems to have a hard-on for comparing you two just because you’re dating, which sucks. Stella sucks. But you’re the best and you deserve to know it, okay? He’s so lucky to have you, because you’re so dedicated to him and me and us and you, and you’re so loyal. You’re beautiful, okay? You’re beautiful and talented and amazing.” Neveah took an exaggerated breath, a smile beginning to frame her lips as Y/N’s chuckles resonated between them. “Don’t-”

“Ah! Y/N! I’m glad you’re still here!” Y/N and Gloria turned their heads to the monotone voice they’ve grown to fear. It was Professor Cross, walking up to them and waving his arm above his head.

“Can’t catch a break, huh?” Gloria and Y/N let their laughter fade into the evening air. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, and coffees on me.”

“Six shots of espresso or I’m suing.”

“Your wish is my command, Y/N.” Gloria wrapped him up in a hug before scampering towards the exit.

“Y/N!” Professor Cross called again despite their distance. Y/N tried not to scrunch his nose as he could smell the coffee and disappointment in his Professor’s breath, wedging his teeth into his lip as he suspected the hundreds of things that this could be about. He knows that he’s been falling behind, the worries and stress that riddled his mind like a plague and withered his willpower leaving him to stare at his essays with nothing but doubt, nothing but his knowing that he’ll never be smart like Mark. His favourite moments with Mark were when that didn’t matter, when knowing complex historical milestones or bisecting segments on invisible squares never came spilling from their lips like their vows of affection did. “We need to talk about your marks in my class…”

“I-I know, Professor Cross, I’m in a slump right now but the summative will bring my mark up, I’ve been working on a piece-”

“I know, I know, but I didn’t expect you to hit a slump, Y/N. You’re one of the most enthusiastic students in my class. Granted, it’s art history, that’s not saying a lot, but I was surprised when I got the numbers for your last few tests. You know, I thought Mark would have a better influence on you, after all. He was always first in my classes.” Professor Cross tried to joke around, tried to bring some hollow laughter into the stale air trudging between them, but he knew he took it too far. He could see the fluorescent lights above chipping away at Y/N’s resolve, the hands clutching his anthro textbook gripping onto the spine. Y/N’s gaze shifted to everywhere except on the professor, deep breaths drying his throat and weakening his forced smile.

“I know, Mark’s smart, he used to be the top in the class, he’s been making art, fixing cars and changing the world, I know…” Y/N tried to wring the sweat out from his hands, doing his best to not let the sunlight streaming from the classroom windows to scratch into his skin too much. “I know, he’s the best, I know…” Y/N only shied away as Mr. Cross took a step closer. “I’ll get my grades up, I promise, I’ll try hard.”

“Y/N-”

“Have a good night, Professor…” Y/N could barely raise his gaze up from the ground, the weight of his professor's words dragging down on his shoulders and keeping his breath lodged into his throat. He turned away without a second thought and barely spared a glance towards his Art History professor before whipping himself around the corner of the nearest doorway. He needed to escape, he needed to escape from the spotlight that burned into his head and constantly sung his inadequacies into his ears whenever he let his mind wander. This was no swansong that so easily fell from between Mark’s lips, and this light was not the ivory whisper of the starlight that would alway drape over their entwined fingers.

He tried not to let his inner thoughts consume him as he made it to the main gates, the smokescreen of his doubts boiling, bubbling under the breath he finally let out as the amber sunlight followed in his footsteps to the main courtyard of the campus.

Mark leaned against the side of his car, playing with the edge of his sleeve as he waited for Y/N in the front of the parking lot, bathing in the amber sunlight streaming from the golden sky. It’s been a few months of this routine, picking Y/N up and heading home to bask in the fires of their admiration together, and Mark could not get enough of it. Seeing Y/N’s tired smile bloom as they sat next to each other in the front, the lazy kisses and intertwined fingers making them grateful his windows were tinted. Mark couldn’t get enough of it, he wanted more, just to take Y/N in and all of the wonder that spilled out from between those beautiful lips - heaven’s gates - the edge that their secrets used to tremble on and now free fall into the oceans of their trust, their love.

He couldn’t help but beam as he saw Y/N finally scamper out of the entrance to his design college, but he didn’t notice Y/N’s shifting gaze and the dejection weighing on his shoulders. Mark only focused his gaze on Y/N’s eyes that seemed to sparkle in the gilded sunlight and his skin that glowed under the golden skies, his lips that always wrenched his gaze on them and reminded them of how sweet they tasted under his tongue and between his teeth. The stories they told, they could go on and on and he could spend hours listening to what they had to say. That head of hair still singed by his wandering hands and burning touch where he could bury his worries, and revel in the softness that he tangled between his fingers. Those shoulders he would wrap his arms around and feel the tides of their cherry chapstick crash on the shores of their adoration, the shores like those beaches they burned black with the circles they danced in the sands.

“Hey, baby.” Mark wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist and kissed the top of his head, lips trailing down to his cheeks and waiting, longing to paint his skin in tapestries of their compassion. Y/N just hid his face in Mark’s hands, eyes taking sudden interest in the pebbles on the concrete. “How were classes today?” Mark cradled Y/N’s cheeks between his hands and kissed his lips, his smile slowly fading as the one that shone behind Y/N’s pressed lips didn’t budge. “What happened? Did Mrs. Fletching go on about why colour theory is JUST A THEORY, A COLOUR THEORY!”

Mark nudged Y/N’s chin up and pecked his lips, unknowing of the judging stares and jealous glares that dug into Y/N’s back and ripped out his spine Mortal Kombat style.

“Something like that…'' Y/N’s lips finally budged with a shrivelled whine, his head leaning onto Mark’s chest, hoping that his leather jacket and beautiful hands could hide him from his own shame and the girls that he knew were whispering about him by the library entrance. Y/N’s smile always sweetened the sparks that ignited between their teeth, and Mark wants to get that blissful glow under Y/N’s cheeks again. “Can we just head home?”

“Of course baby.” Mark opened the door for Y/N and then wound around the front to head in himself. “Do you want to talk about what happened? I really like your smile and…” Mark paused, trying to choose his words carefully so the heavy silence practically crushing the car could feel just a bit lighter. “I haven’t been seeing it a lot nowadays, you know I’d do anything to see you smile.” Mark caressed Y/N’s cheek, seeing a weak smile spread across his baby’s lips made him feel a tiny bit better, at least the words spun like silk from his lips could always make Y/N feel safe. He meant every word and wanted Y/N to know that.

“Maybe later? I just wanna get out of these tight-ass jeans and sleep…” Y/N shrunk back in the seat, with Mark’s touch melting from his cheeks and smoothing across his hands, the demons thrashing about in the pits of his stomach made and making him question his worthiness of such a man. A man who smiles in Y/N’s adversity…

I don’t deserve him, Y/N thought as they pulled out of the parking lot and headed home.

Y/N sat on the couch, doodling on his tablet, one of Mark’s many sweatshirts that found their way into his closet on his body. Mark couldn’t resist the way Y/N looked in his clothes, the scent of coconut and lavender staining all of his shirts and the admiration that dripped down their necks in the nights under the moon drenching the collar of everything he put on. It was the smell of home to him, the touch of home to him, the feeling of home to him. Y/N’s fingers between his, the coffee flavoured kisses starting every one of their slow mornings. He shuffled over from the other side of the couch, raising to his knees to tower of Y/N’s huddled form and looked to the tablet to see what masterpiece he was conjuring on that screen this time. He played with Y/N’s hair, kissing his forehead and stroking his arms before scrunching his nose at Y/N’s focus on the brilliant screen between his hands.

“Y/N~” Mark kissed Y/N’s nose, earning the cutest little squeal he has ever heard in his life. “What d’you want for dinner…?” Mark straddled Y/N’s legs, playing with the hand that wasn’t vigorously scribbling on the screen with his stylus. Y/N leaned forward - eyes finally off that screen - to press his forehead to Mark’s. His big baby. Sometimes, in moments like these with the evening sunlight draped over their shoulders and the gleam of their smiles taken between their lips, he feels like he deserves this. Sometimes he deserves Mark, the most caring, affectionate, optimistic and beautiful man he’s ever met. But it just takes one day, one thing, one word to break that all down, to tell him he’s not worth him, not worth anything. The sting of his classmates’ glares still burned into his skull, etched themselves into his memories every time he and Mark kissed.

Maybe they were right - he thought. Maybe…

“Uhm~” Y/N sang into Mark’s skin, the fingers tracing the lines in his palm and the body inching itself between his thighs breaking his melody a little. His heart burned for Mark, longed for him, but did he deserve a man like that to fester the flames? To ignite the weathered stars under his skin? Sometimes when he ran his hand through Mark’s hair or listened to the symphonies of his precious heartbeats on the nights that used to leave him sleepless, he could feel his skin burn. Not with the sparks that writhe between their sweat-soaked chests, but with a toxin of those doubts that leech into every hesitant kiss he plants. “How about pizza?”

“Sounds good to me.” “You wanna come?”

“I think I’ll stay here, gotta get some stuff ready.”

“My hero.” “Turning on netflix and everything.”

“I know, superman was found jobless.”

“You’re everything superman wishes he was.” Mark headed to the door with a parting kiss Y/N wanted to last forever, until the sunset bled black. “And so much more~”

“I don’t deserve you.” Y/N widened his eyes as he realized what tripped over his tongue, he hoped Mark didn’t read into that too much.

“You deserve the world, baby.” Mark hummed into the coffee-stained air of their house before slipping out the door, making sure to send a wink Y/N’s way. The scarlet in Y/N’s cheeks bit into his skin. He wanted it to feel good, the way Mark’s sweet nothings made his cheeks burn like wildfire. But so many voices in his head, Stella, Professor Cross, that one teacher that constantly calls him Mark’s boyfriend. They all started screaming, voices in his head that tore the feeling of Mark’s lips from his skin.

As the door shut and Y/N sighed into the haze of silence settling in the house, he just let the voices twist and echo in his head and rip into his heart. He let them stifle the flames stoked between the symphonies of their twilight, he let them wash away the footprints in strawberry sands and make the coral sunlight that melts on their skin on those summer nights they’ll always cherish submerge him in pools of guilt.

“I don’t deserve you…”

Mark stumbled through the front door, kicking off his shoes with a stagger and proceeding into the surprisingly dark house. Pizza boxes in one hand, house keys in the other, he stalked into the kitchen with a cocked eyebrow. He presumed Y/N may have been napping, but he knows Y/N hates having all the lights off. Mark learned his mistake the last time they did that during one of their many journeys to thwart the waning moonlight together, Y/N in Mark’s arms as they tried their best to keep their eyes on a horror movie Mark said would be ‘just fine~’. He could still remember the popcorn they had to clean off their carpet and the nails that dug into his arms. Neither of them slept that night, but at least they had their midnight conversations and entwined grins to help ignite the starlight between them and ease the nerves that rumbled through their nervous laughter.

He sighed at the memory, still feeling the cinders of their admiration staining his fingertips as he dusted off his hands and walked towards the bedroom - going to retrieve Y/N from whatever blanket cocoon he was probably in - but instantly halted when he heard sobbing scratch at the bathroom door. Desperate and fragile sobs freezing Mark in his place. He scrambled to the sound and rushed towards the bathroom, pressing his ear up against the door.

“Y/N?” Mark didn’t hide the panic beating senseless at his throat or the stress that fested under his shaking hands. He remembered Y/N’s silence, the hollow light of his weak smiles. He remembers how Y/N’s gaze always fell to the floor and how the kisses to his fingers as of late weren’t moulded by the grin he loves to see. Why couldn’t he see this before?

He kept his forehead on the door, wincing as the sobs and whines from behind it instantly stopped as Mark called out Y/N’s name again. “Y/N… What’s wrong? Can I come in?” Mark didn’t know how to handle this… The stench of grief that oozed from under the door and rose to his ankles. He didn’t hear an answer, but pushed past the silence and saw Y/N in the corner, knees hugged to his chest. Y/N’s head snapped up to the sound of footsteps and let a gasp rip through his sobs as he clambered to his feet.

Mark put his hands on Y/N’s shoulders, stopping him in his place before he could escape.

“Y/N…”

He didn’t like this, seeing the tears rolling down Y/N’s cheeks, staining his hands and carving rivers into his skin. He sat Y/N back down onto the floor wrapping his arms around Y/N without a second thought. “What happened?”

“I...I…” Y/N tried to choke out some sort of excuse for why he was feeling this way, battling through the smoke and breaking the mirrors that housed a reflection he despised. He brought his knees closer to him, his efforts to wipe away the onslaught of tears staining his sweatshirt stopped by Mark, who took Y/N’s hands into his own and kissed his knuckles softly, his face contorted with confusion and worry. “I really don’t deserve you… The more I thought about it, what everyone’s been saying, the truer it seems.”

“Y/N- what are you talking about? You-”

“You’re the most beautiful, empathetic, loving man I have ever met. You can do anything you set your mind to and even when I decide to let my thoughts take over and consume me, you’re still there to hug me and kiss me and hold me even when I ignore you or dismiss you. Everyone is so right… You’re too good for me, your everything is too good for me, Mark. I-”

“Stop!” Mark shook his head violently, taking Y/N’s face in his hands and standing him up. “What are you talking about? Who’s making you feel this way?” Mark’s voice was barely above a whisper as he brought Y/N away from the corner, wiping his tears as he waited for an answer. Something.

Even with Y/N’s face between his hands, his eyes still looked everywhere but him, Mark couldn’t stand it. Y/N was hurt, someone was hurting him, and he wasn’t telling him who it was! “Please, Y/N tell me, who-”

“ME!” Y/N tried to push himself away. “I… I don’t have a reason, but every day I look at you, I realize how worthless I am, how I could never do anything you do, and yet you come home or pick me up and you take me in your arms and tell me that I’m perfect…”

The girls in the wallways...

“Every day I start to hate myself more and more because of who I am, what I look like, what I do or what I CAN’T do… And no matter who tells me to get over it, or that it’s just in my head, doesn’t understand that I can’t stop it!”

Stella… Professor Cross… Everyone… Everything!

“I don’t know what to do, Mark… I love you more than anything. But I don’t deserve you… I don’t deserve your smile, or your love or your compassion because I’m ME! I’m a failure, I’m just another guy who’s trying to make his dying dreams a reality. I’m a guy who thinks he has everything down pat until the test comes up and I fail again, I’m the guy who lies about his problems ‘cause I’m always told they don’t matter. I’m just a commendable, malleable second choice for everyone around me and I don’t know how to stop it!” Y/N’s sobs ripped through from between his teeth, hitched breaths boiling in his throat as he hit his head against Mark’s shoulder. His cries took up the silence in a cacophony of sadness and anguish, and the light in his eyes that Mark could embrace himself in for hours died out like the withering flames of whatever confidence he had left.

“Y/N…” Mark pulled Y/N into his embrace, hoping that his kisses to Y/N’s neck could straighten his frown or stop the chills of his cries from biting so deep. “I didn’t know you were feeling this way… I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t notice and I’m so sorry I let these thoughts get the better of you. They’re not true, not a single one.”

“It’s not your fault, Mark… It never was, please don’t blame yourself.”

“We’re each other’s responsibility, right Y/N?” Mark angled Y/N’s chin and fixed their gazes, trying to take solace in the fading galaxies that embraced his boyfriend’s teary-eyed gaze, the stars that light his nights ablaze.

Mark pulled Y/N forward and turned him towards the mirror, wrapping his arms around his waist and setting his chin on Y/N’s shoulder. With a shaky breath, he entwined their fingers and pointed towards the mirror, leaving Y/N to cock his head their reflections. “You know what I see?” Mark kissed Y/N’s neck, feeling the fires of their adoration start to dance under his skin with every second Y/N spent in Mark’s embrace. “I see the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes on-”

“But-”

Mark stifled Y/N protests and let his tongue take their place, looking at Y/N with so much purpose, so much love. Even now, when the flames between their skin are just tiny sparks, even when the sunsets in their skies are pale with their cries and the tears drenching their hands and cheeks dwindle the lights in their eyes. Mark’s admiration never wavers, will never waver even if anybody wants to tell Y/N otherwise.

“You know what I see…?” Mark nudged Y/N’s nose with his, the small chuckle he earned from between Y/N’s lips made his hopeful smile that much brighter. “A gorgeous, compassionate individual, who is also an amazing artist and the best boyfriend a guy like me could ever ask for. You will never be a failure, Y/N, the mistakes you make now will only help you become an even more perfect guy if that’s possible. I know it’s hard to realize, especially now babe, but what those people down the hall or up the creek or whatever say, shouldn’t matter. They’re the same people that will marvel at every single thing you’ll create through those beautiful, beautiful hands. I can’t completely understand what you’re going through, but I’m here to stand with you, I’m here to help you respect yourself because you deserve it, Y/N. It’s hard to hear the love when the hate speaks so loud, I know… What others say though, shouldn’t affect you like this, they aren’t you, they don’t know what your can do or what your precious, pure heart is capable of. I know you love me so much. I know that. Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve you, with the weird looks we used to get in public or those people that don’t know what love is or how free it should be. But when I drop by to pick you up or come home and see that smile and hear your beautiful voice, it helps me believe. It helps me believe that I’m worthy to wake up next to you or to see you embody the moonlight you hold in your hands.” Mark took a breath, looking up into the mirror to see Y/N’s teary-eyed gaze and a smile as brilliant as the sheets of starlight that drape around their shoulders on the nights they’ll never forget.

Y/N whipped around and threw his arms around Mark, the arms instantly tightening around his waist and the lips ghosting his ear leaving Y/N’s sobs as nothing more than shrivelling whispers behind Y/N’s grin. The flames of their admiration that lapped at their hearts in delicate flames burst under their fingertips and spiralled between their breaths. Mark pressed his forehead to Y/N’s, the sweetness of Y/N’s skin that ran under his lips like velvet and the light of his smile that made the sun look like a shadow made his chest swell in happiness. The wildfires embracing them and their hearts lifting the haze that choked out their sobs and letting their breaths of ease mould the soft kisses Mark traced Y/N’s cheeks with.

“I love you, Y/N. You mean so much to me… I just want to show you how special you are, not just to me, but to yourself too…” Mark’s breath was caught in his throat as Y/N entwined their lips with a flourish, tongues caressing lips that curled into grins as soon as Mark’s back hit the wall. Tear stained breaths burned up in cinders to reveal languishing sighs, the streams of sunlight now stained with their quiet laughter and the ruby red that painted their kisses.

“I… I don’t know what to say…” Y/N held the hands that cupped his cheeks and pressed them to his chest, kissing Mark’s knuckles as their giggles ignited the dreary darkness of their bathroom. “I didn’t expect all of that, thank you, Mark. I love you more than anything and you mean the world to me. I’m sorry-”

“No apologizing!” Mark freed his hands and messed with Y/N’s hair, scrunching his nose and burying his kisses into the hair he would knead through as the summer rain sang it’s melodies at their window, or when the glow of the clementine skies of their autumn evenings finished carving out the ripples of their sheets and ran weathered between their restless hands. He draped his arms around Y/N’s waist, looking down to his pout he couldn’t help but kiss away with a blissful, lovestruck grin plastered onto his face. Y/N just leaned onto Mark’s chest, breathing out into the symphonies of silence that surrounded them and the violet evening that began to bloom above the rooftop of their house.

They enjoyed the silence that draped over them like the ashen sheets just two doors over that housed their safest sounds, the amber sunlight stepping through the door and painting their grins gold like the honey that embraced their most cherished memories.

“Now, I, as your amazing, loving boyfriend brought home pizza that’s probably freezing cold by now. Would you care to accompany me on my journey to the microwave?” Mark let his stray fingertips prod at Y/N’s waistband, failing to hide his smile as playful shrieks soaked into his neck - music to his ears.

Y/N just remembered why Mark went out in the first place, making him wince into Mark’s skin. He hummed at Mark’s proposal.

“Microwaved pizza… How romantic…” Y/N followed Mark out of the bathroom, tightening the knot of devotion that burned between their interlaced fingers, their giggles spinning into the gold that dripped from their smiles. The sweetness of the air following them out into their hallway that surrounded all of their midnight walks down the block shoving their heads under the reckless waves of their ocean.

“I’m honoured, my beloved.” Mark playfully nudged Y/N towards the wall, pressing him up on it and taking his skin between his lips. “I love you, baby…”

Y/N looked into Mark’s eyes, auburn gemstones of untainted beauty. The one place he could truly see himself - suspended in Mark’s star-studded gaze. Mark was the flowered path of happiness and acceptance he longed for every day the full moon peeked out to talk with him on his lonely nights. He did deserve this, he thought. He deserved to savour the air that stings with the sunlight they stir every morning, the fingers that tangle in his hair and worship him like a treasure, the ivory spotlight that hangs over their dancing tongues, the desire stuck between their teeth and dripping from garnet lips. Maybe he did.

As he cradled Mark’s cheeks with hands scorched by the beautiful novas that burned between their lips, they let the blissful silence ignite between them and allowed their fingers to wander across skin they were blessed to memorize every inch of under the spotlight of the stars.

“I know, Mark. And I’ll never forget it.”

“You better not.”

#kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop lgbt #lgbtq #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #got7 x male reader #got7 mark x male reader #mark tuan x male reader #got7 x reader #mark x reader #mark x male reader #mark tuan x reader #writing

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amarauder · 4 years

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truth or dare and other rituals - percy jackson x reader

006. truth or dare and other rituals

PAIRING; Percy Jackson x Reader

REQUEST; "Keep your hands off my girl."

REQUESTED BY; trexs346

GODLY PARENT; Thanatos

DATE; June 28th, 2020

WORD COUNT; 5k

WARNING; bad words,

A/N; I just want to apologize in advance because this is just pure shit. To my lovely requester, please feel free to pm me if you hate it. I am totally willing to re-write it. I just really struggled with this one and I hate how it turned out.

As you can see, I really cannot decide who is the perfect percy face claim. The dude in the previous chapter looks more like what i would imagine him to look like than most. But at the same time, rick describes percy like he gets more and more intimidating as he gets older and in the words of hazel he looks like a roman god. so, like i feel like logan lerman is perfect because he gets more and more attractive as he gets older, and in my opinion that makes him more intimidating. but i dunno, who is your face claim for percy? i need help ahhh.

TRAILER; in which the gang plays truth or dare with a twist.

All Y/N wanted in the entire world was one marshmallow fluff and peanut butter sandwich. But no, it had to be banned because of the stupid Demeter counselor in front of her. He was literally the son of the god of plants! Yet he was allergic to peanuts! Which were plants! It was the most ironic thing she had ever heard of, like Annabeth breaking up with Percy the day after the war ended, completely unexpected yet she still did it anyway.

"It would be entirely dangerous to all of us anti-peanut eaters," Allan announced snottily to Mr.D, who looked like he wanted to be anywhere other than here.

Just like her, he seemed to losing his patience and quickly cut Allan off, "Andy-"

"It's Allan."

"Don't interrupt me," Dionysus snapped, and Y/N felt a surge of pride towards her director. It was rather strange to be thankful for him of all people, but her opinion of him had changed once he had thanked Percy for all he had done for the Olympians. Not one god, other than his Father, had portrayed their gratitude towards him despite it being very well deserved. "Now, Andy, fortunately, your time is up for talking about," he paused and then grimaced, "Whatever you were talking about. Are we done here?"

Y/N took a deep breath to calm her shaking fingers. She had been twisting her earring non-stop for the past five minutes, and now that the time had finally come Y/N felt a serene feeling wash over her. She couldn't think, and Y/N was pretty sure her brain had gone on auto-pilot. It didn't matter though because Y/N had her entire speech memorized and a laminated sheet of paper just in case she forgot anything. Y/N also had handouts that Percy was currently passing out to everyone as she stood to present.

He gave her a bright grin and a thumbs up that made her breath stutter, from her nerves or just Percy she didn't know.

Y/N's laminated paper bended once she got up to the stand and she hurriedly straightened it out again. Y/N had always been a good public speaker, or at least she was comfortable enough to talk to her fellow counselors during these "meetings." But now, after spending so much time and preparation that all come down to this one point, Y/N felt bile climbing up her throat. Her teeth chattered, she was so nervous. Along with her knees wobbling so much that Y/N would have thought she had just gotten off the climbing wall.

She smiled out at everyone, then spat out her entire speech. It felt like she was flying, unable to register anything that was going on other than to get this over as soon as possible.

Before she knew it, all her facts and data had been said and Percy was leaning on the wall clapping and whooping, a beacon of light, her lighthouse during this insane moment.

The rest of the campers followed his lead, and even Mr.D gave a few slow claps after an eyeroll. He finally told everyone to shut up so he could think. Of course, Connor Stoll gave a few yelps right after just to make Y/N's day even more extraordinary.

She wanted to hold Percy's hand. Just touch him briefly, to know he was there beside her, that he would catch her in a heartbeat. Bring her back to safety and out of the deep depths of anxiety. It was hard to take in air, the oxygen she was getting was short and quick, close to a laugh but more like a wheeze.

"Alright, everyone out," Dionysus said, "I have to make a decision, and I can't think with your mortalness stinking up the room."

Y/N saw Percy opening his mouth, knowing he was going to make some smartass comment that Dionysus in fact had been mortal once, but Y/N caught him just in time. She gave him a look and he pouted, but followed her lead nonetheless.

Y/N felt like she was scolding Blackjack, Percy and his pegasus had the same kicked puppy face, guilty and hurt. She laughed at his expression and ruffled his hair. The black mop had always been soft and fluffy, but this time Y/N got a whiff of some sort of shampoo. Her stomach flipped.

"Ugh, nooo, stop." Percy said nudging her hand away, but his mile wide smile said otherwise. He ruffled her own, before bringing Y/N into a side hug and pressed his face against her hair. "That was truly the best presentation I have ever witnessed."

Her entire body had turned into a beehive, every inch of skin buzzing pleasantly. He needed to stop giving her so much casual affection, Y/N thinks she may just die from it. Die happily, yes, but being separated from Percy was too painful to think about.

Dionysus stood up abruptly, "Actually, I changed my mind. I'm gonna make this short and sweet so I can take a nap. The girl can get her sandwich." He exited with a roll of his eyes and Allan trailing behind him demanding a re-do.

"What? But I can die."

"Exactly, the less demigods the happier I get. Now, leave Alex."

"It's Allan."

Dionysus looked at the son of Demeter as if he was the dumbest person he had ever met. He was probably right. "Miraculously, I don't care. You're like a fly I can't shoo away."

The air was pushed out of her lungs, and the oxygen left her entire body. Y/N felt the shock from her head to her toes, like she could finally feel gravity weighing down on her. She took in a deep breath and let her clouded thoughts focus on things. She had done it. All her hard work had paid off and it felt really good.

Percy bumped into her again and she looked up at him. He had a horrible, terrible habit of being in her personal space too often. He did it more than the average person, and while it did make her feel more alive than anything else she had experienced, it also made her brain turn into sloth mode.

"I knew you were gonna do it," Percy said as they exited outside. It was so bright that Y/N had to shield her eyes, and her nose twitched as it always did when it was sunny. She always sneezed after going outside and being inside for too long. Percy liked to poke fun of her and say she was allergic to the sun.

"I'm just surprised no one had said anything." Y/N said after her sneezing attack. Connor Stoll had looked like one of those mimes during her presentation. He kept opening his mouth and then would abruptly close it while gripping his chair as if it was a bucking horse.

"Ya," Leo said out of nowhere, jumping on Percy's back and making him stumble. Y/N snorted, and caught his arm just in time. "That's because Percy can be very threatening."

Y/N raised a questioning eyebrow. She had to admit that Percy was intimidating, the first time she had met him Y/N barely had the courage to get a word out, that was until she realized he was just a big dork inside a body with a bitch face 24/7.

"He threatened Connor Stoll before your presentation, N/N. You should have seen Connor's face. Shows him for trying to steal my handy sack."

"Okay, Handy Mandy," Percy snapped and crossed his arms before turning to Y/N. His face visibly softened and he looked down at his shuffling feet, "I just wanted to make sure your presentation turned out perfect. You spent so much time and effort on it, I didn't want someone like Connor Stoll saying something stupid during it."

Y/N smiled softly, and nudged his elbow. He looked up before looking down again. Y/N went to hug him then paused, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. Would he reject it? He probably would, he did date Annabeth before. She's perfect.

But what about what he just did for her?

No one had ever been so thoughtful as to do everything in their power to make something that was important to her perfect.

She smiled, and ran on her instincts, "Hey, Perce."

"Ya?" he questioned when she didn't say anything more, only to be enveloped in a hug. She must have blacked out because Y/N doesn't remember anything that happened after.

Saturdays at Camp Half-Blood gave everyone a taste of what Y/N believed was Heaven. It was the one day that Y/N gave herself off. Sundays were filled with preparing for archery and other lessons to teach the younger campers. Monday through Friday left Y/N exhausted after all the activities.

Saturdays were pure bliss, roaming through the strawberry fields, catching up with friends, bonfires at the beach. Life became something out of a movie and it left her grappling for some understanding of how she deserved this.

However, instead of going on an adventure, Y/N was stuck in a boiling hot room, blindfolded.

Percy was in there somewhere. He had kidnapped her after a late lunch and tied a bandana around her eyes. It was all a little nerve racking.

It got worse when Y/N found out he had to guide her everywhere. Percy was not a good set of eyes. He himself had trouble staying upright on a daily basis, particularly when he walked backwards.

"Percy," Y/N whined, her eyes opening as she tried to see through the cover, "Can I please take this off?"

"No," Percy said from her left. At least he replied this time. He was closer than she thought. After a while, Y/N wondered if he had left the room and ditched her.

"Please," Y/N pouted. She knew she sounded childish but Y/N couldn't bring herself to care. Percy laughed, he sounded even closer now. She didn't realize he was invading her personal space until she felt his breath on her neck. She shivered. Gods, she hoped Percy didn't notice why Y/N was shaking like a tree.

She felt his hand brush against her shoulder and wondered what on Earth he was doing until she was being lifted out of the seat. "Let's go. We still have more to do."

Y/N could imagine exactly what Percy looked like, but she wished she could see it with her own eyes. Percy didn't get super excited a lot and Y/N always felt blessed whenever he did. She would carefully drink it all in, making sure to engrain every inch of him to her memory.

Percy had a habit of bouncing on the balls of his shoes eagerly, something Y/N was pretty sure he didn't even know he did, which only made it an even cuter habit. He would play with her hair impatiently but shy away from her touch at the same time as if he didn't want to make her feel rushed but needed to hurry the process up at the same time.

However, his hands were absent from her hair and instead guiding her to wherever they were going.

It was interesting how once one sense is gone, then the others completely take over. It was like she was completely re-exploring Camp Half-Blood but through smells... and she had no clue where she was.

"Wait," Percy said out of nowhere, after she had stumbled over a tree root, "You don't have any other plans today do you?"

"Other than being blindfolded and dragged around by my best friend, no." The words came out ruder than she had meant, but this was getting kind of annoying. She just wanted to get wherever they are going to go and bask in the sweetness that is Percy.

Though, Y/N didn't in fact have any plans. She really wanted to sunbathe by the lake but that didn't seem to be an option. But if Y/N was going to be honest, Y/N's always more than happy to go along with whatever he says. Which is, like, pathetic as hell, but Y/N doesn't see herself doing anything to change that in the near future.

"So, you want to be surprised?"

"Of course," she replied immediately, and inwardly cringed at how eager she sounded. "I mean, sure. If you want." She might outwardly cringe this time. Gods, she's embarrassing.

"Okay, cool."

Then, they start walking again until they are at what Y/N guesses is the beach. He sits her down on the sand, and if Y/N had known where Percy was then she would have thrown some at him.

It seems her wish is granted because he takes her blindfold off a second later, but she doesn't fulfill it. Y/N wouldn't have even if she hadn't been blindfolded and dragged around because in front of her is an elaborate picnic with two plates filled with marshmallow fluff and peanut butter sandwiches.

Y/N could cry.

"Percy," Y/N gasped and turned to him with a bigger smile than she cared to admit. He laughs at her facial expression and nudged her shoulder. "Annabeth didn't!"

Percy laughs even harder at that, "I'm insulted you didn't even consider this had been all me."

"Well, is it?"

Percy pouts, and Y/N snickers but she can't deny how touched she is by all of this. "No, but it was my idea! I helped set it up. Annabeth just remembered the blanket, the rocks to hold it down, the drinks, the plates-"

His answer was so incredibly Percy that Y/N couldn't help but smile. She reached out and placed her hand in his. "Thank you, Perce." He blushes and looks away. Y/N marvels at his remarkable composure, she knows if Y/N had been in his place she would have blacked out. In fact, Y/N should be marveling at herself. "Really, this is the sweetest thing anyone has done for me."

Percy shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. The way he always does with compliments, a quick dismissal. "I think you need new friends then."

"Probably, damn you Nico for never making me a picnic!"

Percy almost pees his pants at the thought of Nico on a picnic, but Y/N is too busy eating her sandwich and enjoying his presence to notice.

An hour later, the sun is going down and Y/N is leaning against Percy's shoulder. She wants to stay in this moment forever and ever. It makes her wonder why the Gods don't take advantage of having infinite time with their loved ones. But then she remembers that Percy is unlike anyone she had ever met and Y/N's chest warms with thankfulness that she is his first choice.

Y/N closes her eyes and nuzzles her nose deeper into Percy. She has this absurd war going on in her head, to either bask in the moment at hand or fall asleep. Both seem abysmal to what she really wants to do, maybe finally tell Percy how she feels but why ruin the possible best day of her life?

However, it seemed Percy had different ideas because he shifts under her to lay on his forearm, the other going to soothe her hair. His head props on top of her head and Y/N shuts her eyes for a second. Everywhere he touched seemed to send what felt like fairy dust travel through her body. "Hey, angel of death."

Y/N groaned at the nickname and pinched him. She only relented once he winced. "Percy," she whispers and buries herself deeper into his chest. His hand in her hair felt amazing, like warm water flowing down her spine. But it made her sleepy. "You know I hate that nickname."

"And you know I love that nickname. I mean you did save me."

Y/N doesn't answer for a few seconds but sits up with a huff after he softly tugs at her roots. "All I did was relay what my Father saw and managed to warn you from your potential death, which is totally against all the ancient laws. You need to keep quiet about it."

"No one is here!"

Y/N looked around and realized he was right. No one was on the beach for miles except them. She wondered how he got everyone to leave. "You're annoying."

Percy laughs. Once she cuddles up against him again, she can feel it. "Wait, no. I have something to tell you."

"What?"

"You need to get up."

"Ugh, why?" She mumbled but did what he said anyway.

Y/N stared at him expectantly for a while but then decided to give him a few seconds to collect his thoughts. Y/N knows how hard it is to make ideas into words, especially if it's important to her. Looking at him now, it looked like whatever he was about to say was important to him.

Her hand grabbed his in the meantime. It doesn't help her focus whatsoever but Y/N hopes it gives Percy the encouragement he needs. "Listen, we've known each other for..." He trailed off as he thought about it. His thumb rubbed across the back of her hand, and in all honesty, Y/N wished she could say she had been able to pay attention after that. But with the amount of warmth glowing through her from his gesture, all focus had gone out the window. "A really long time now, and umm, for a while you've been my best friend. But recently I have been having thoughts that best friends really shouldn't have and." He paused, and she heard her heartbeat one, two, three times before she registered what he had said.

Was he doing what she thought he was doing?

Hearing a slight squeal from behind them, Percy paused and Y/N followed suit. He stopped rubbing her hand, but that didn't stop the fairy dust that seemed to travel faster and further every second. There was another squeal and Percy let out a groan. Pulling away from him, she looked over her shoulder to catch sight of the rest of the seven. Piper and Hazel being at the front and gushing to each other, obviously having seen Percy and Y/N.

He glared at his friends, looking for something to throw but coming up with nothing. They laughed and headed over to Percy's picnic as he ordered, "Go away!"

Reluctantly the gang left, but Y/N could still see them giggling and watching her exchange with Percy. It seemed Percy did too because he turned his attention back to Y/N to find her getting up. Catching a hold of her elbow to stop her, he raised an eyebrow when she looked back at him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Nowhere?" She said weakly and he nodded in acceptance of her answer, using Y/N's elbow to pull her back towards him. Sitting on the blanket, facing him she watched him reach over to interlink their hands.

Percy opened his mouth to speak again but was interrupted by Leo yelling, "Percy, Y/N, when you guys are done making out and scarring poor Hazel and Frank. Oh, yeah! Nico too! Come play truth or dare with us! Piper wants an excuse to find out all the gossip!"

"Percy kiss the most attractive person here."

Percy hesitates, and during that short time Y/N panics. Her mind immediately goes to Annabeth. With her gorgeous princess curls and show stopping gray eyes. Y/N wants to cry just thinking about it.

"Well, I don't have a mirror," Percy finally says with a scoff and he squeezes Y/N closer to him.

It's only seconds later that Y/N feels him press his lips against her hair.

What that means doesn't register until Piper is asking her truth or dare. She can barely get the word, "dare," out. She was just impressed that Y/N had even considered what Piper had asked. Her entire body felt like it had turned into fairy dust, showering her in warmth and happiness.

Y/N feels Percy smile against her hair. It's all tantalizingly dizzying, the thought that he had purposely kissed her after what Leo had just dared him. The idea grows lovelier if it even can as she realizes that it's her and Percy's little secret.

"I dare you to..." Piper trails off as she scrutinizes both Percy's and Y/N's cheshire grins. "I dare you and Percy to go somewhere private until I tell you to come back."

Y/N's first reaction is confusion. Then, she recognizes Piper's smirk and it all hits her like a ton of bricks. Jason would have been jealous. Piper must have seen what Percy just did. Judging by the smirk on Percy's face, he knew too. Little stink.

He's also looking at the water. Y/N's stomach sinks, she's going to freeze.

Fortunately, she doesn't freeze and somehow manages to stay completely dry. Percy mentioned something about his powers being able to keep them dry but Y/N wasn't listening; she was too busy admiring the lake lit up by the moon. The next time the Hunters visited camp, Y/N made a mental note to thank Artemis for it's beauty.

With her face pressed against the edge of the bubble, Y/N felt like a child seeing an aquarium the first time. She heard Percy chuckle beside her, and she rolled her eyes. If anyone here was the seaweed brain, it was him. He had all of this wonder at the brink of his fingertips, yet he never sued it to his advantage. Thanatos, if she had his powers Y/N was sure she would be sleeping here every night.

Percy pouts from next to her, and continuously pokes her. It wasn't until the sixth poke and a call of her nickname did Y/N look over at him. He was being so incredibly irritating. Honestly, why was he not taking this in? "What?"

"I'm bored," he replied and slumped against the border of the bubble. Y/N gaped at him. How could he be bored? "And you're not paying attention to me."

Y/N rolled her eyes. He was a seventeen year old boy! Almost an adult and he couldn't even keep himself occupied. "It's not my problem your friends dared us to come down here."

Percy gasped dramatically, and gave her his puppy dog face. He looked so much like a baby seal that Y/N almost melted. Almost. She turns towards him and shoves his face with a laugh. "Stop," she said and dragged out the word, "You know I give in every time you do that stupid face."

"Why else would I do it?"

"Because you're annoying." Percy laughs and intercepts him, in a hug then rolls onto his back like a rolly pollie (or pill bug, if that's what your boring ass calls it). Y/N screeches the whole time and tries to claw her way out but his arms are holding her down like Wonder Woman's lasso, golden and ethereal yet warm and comforting. So incredibly Percy.

Sometimes Y/N feels like inside him there are two people. Percy, the dork she is proud to call her best friend. Then, Perseus, the man who resembles more of a god like being, who saved the world twice in a year.

She loves him.

The realization is like smoke, curling around her lungs and choking her into submission. Y/N wants to tell him, and it seems Percy wants to tell her something too because he's gone quiet and limp again. It's just them lying there on top of each other, staring into each other's abyss, trying and failing to conclude what the other is thinking.

There serene moment is interrupted by the bubble popping, and now it's not smoke choking her, it water. Lots and lots of water. It's dark. Y/N can't make out Percy's figure and it only makes her panic more vibrant.

But then there he is, and then it's not Percy. It's some other being, pulling her into his grasp as she sinks and Y/N can breathe again. Her lungs are failing her as she doubles over inside the air bubble. The man beside her puts a hand on her back, and all the blockage seeps away until her burning lungs take in deep breaths of air.

She collapses on the edge, and he kneels beside her. The man is certainly not Percy. He has blonde hair and biceps and triceps, and a bunch of other ceps that Y/N couldn't name if she tried. She leans on the bubble and just stares dazedly at him. She would much rather be looking at Percy but she's so tired and her mind is probably very slow from lack of oxygen. It doesn't matter because she doesn't know who this man is but he saved her.

Y/N briefly entertains the thought of Poseidon but then shoos it away. He wouldn't care to save some child of Thanatos.

It not until they are almost at the surface of the water, that Y/N realizes they have gone up. Percy is nowhere to be seen. She feels oddly empty, as if someone had carved a hole in the pit of her stomach.

But before she can really register Percy's absence, they are surfacing and the freezing air feels marvelous in her chest. Voices are calling and screaming, yet so very distant. The man who saved her, drags her to shore.

He's still holding her as Y/N sluggishly leans against his chest. She sees Leo, Piper, Jason, and the rest all staring at her vigilantly. But then her eyes land on Percy and it feels like air doesn't matter anymore because he is staring at her with such an intense look that all oxygen escapes her once again.

"Keep your hands off my girl." Percy spits out, then shuts his mouth just as quickly. It looks like he hadn't even thought about what he said before saying it.

Something warm swells inside of her, like a star exploding inside her chest. Adoration? Compassion? She's not quite sure what it is, but it tugs at her stomach and pulls Y/N towards him. Without realizing it, she's wrapping her arms around his waist and Y/N's hugging him. After a moment, Percy returns the hug, arms hold her close as she listened to the way his heart hammered in his chest, warmth filling every cell in her body.

It's nice, and it's everything Y/N needs and yearns for in the world.

He pulls back for a moment and the loss of warmth makes her whine but it's lost inside Percy's mouth as he kisses her. Y/N can't register anything after that, because it's just a brush of lips if that even counts but it's desperate and lovely, and everything in between. It tells her all she wants to hear.

They stay like that for a while, their foreheads touching, noses brushing, her lips trembling against his. His hands are grasping at her hair and face, and hers are clutching his shirt. "I thought I lost you," he finally mumbles after a while. It sends the fairy dust down her spine, the way his lips move against hers. Y/N presses her lips against his tighter, she hears Percy take a short intake of breath.

She finds out later that it was Trident who saved her. Y/N feels the need to thank him for blessing her with Percy.

A/N; I don't think I can even explain how much I loathe how this turned out. I literally have re-written this four times now though and it just is not looking great. This is the best version of it though, so I hope someone enjoys it. I just feel like everyone loved the last one and I felt really pressured this time? If that makes sense but of course it turns out to be my most shitty one. So, requester if you hate it as much as I do please please tell me! I am so willing to rewrite it for you! It's super short, only 5k, so let me know!

Requests are closed as of sometime this week. Sorry everyone! I need some time to work on my current ones!

Also, does this ever happen to some of you where you will read a book or fanfiction and your writing kind of changes because you just read theres before because me too.

I hope everyone is having a good day today! My four year anniversary is this Thursday and I have a surprise for you all that I am super excited about, so keep your eyes peeled for that.

#percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #anmarauder writings

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paradise-creator · 3 years

Note

OwO when u have time,, can I have a haven box for BNHA?? But just when you’re free and not working on prior works!! >:( I’m watching u bish

You can use my name in the result if you want to lol I already know it anyway!!

She/her, Taurus, INTJ, slytherin (pretty freakin’ queer but I usually lean towards boys/enbies more)

Personality: the first thing people notice about me is that I am less of a feeler and more of a thinker. I do have an IQ of 125, but my emotional intelligence is quite low, so I have trouble sympathizing with others. But I learned through experience, so I don’t SEEM emotionless. I can (and will) help my friends through tough times if they need me. I’m pragmatic, so I always go for the facts instead of the feelings during decision making or tough situations. I hold a lot of perfectionist traits that make it really hard for me to be satisfied with my results if they aren’t higher than the norm. I also have a slight issue with saying no, so sometimes I’ll offer my help or enrol myself in long-term projects while knowing I legit do not have time for more stuff on my schedule. Being a bit smarter than average, I sometimes feel like I’m obligated to help others so that they can do good too (however, I do like helping people with their hw to a certain extent). I’m working on those issues though!! I’m also an introvert, and I can get rlly tired if I have to be interacting for more than four hours straight with people, especially if their persona isn’t rlly compatible with mine.

However, when I’m surrounded by friends (or generally people who aren’t my superiors), I’m very energetic, loud, silly and I have a sharp tongue. I’m also insanely competitive, like someone please stop me?? My sense of humour goes from absolute nonsense to almost mean spirited sarcasm, but it all depends on who I’m talking to. I’m a MAJOR memer, I have a bunch of files filled with them, and I couldn’t bear be with people who didn’t understand my meme references. When I start liking something, I can get easily obsessed. I’m stubborn, therefore very passionate about the things I care about. I also have a slight case of the Endorphin Junkie, meaning that I really, really like the high you get after sports so I do crossfit training like five to six times a week. I’m unapologetically myself, and I will not ever change who I am to fit within the norm. I’m sometimes told that (that I’m odd, I mean), but I usually thank the people who tell me. I have a really, really big love for music and I have a tendency to break into song sometimes when people say a line from a song I know. I also cry sometimes when music gets really good ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ whoops

Appearance: I’m around 5’6”, with hazel eyes and brown hair that goes around to my shoulders. It gets curly out of nowhere. I can either wake up with straight hair or wake up with a freakin perm, it’s funny. My body isn’t exactly the lean type, I’m somewhere around the buff area of the scale instead, but as long as I seem visibly strong, I’m satisfied. When I’m not going anywhere significant, I usually just wear sport shirts and sweats, but I have a penchant for Dark Academia so I like /looking/ like I’m smart sometimes. And I have glasses bc apparently my eyes are assholes and they work too hard and it hurts my brain all the time

Likes: music (DavidBowieDavidBowieDavidBow-); I have a really wide range of music that goes from early 2000’s pop to 1700’s requiems(my faves are Bowie, Queen and Pink Floyd). I enjoy studying theoretical fields, reading, and I like talking about Absurd Theories About Reality That Make Little To No Sense. I like sports, and I love joking around with friends in the most exaggerated ways. I also love the colour green and I’m more of a cat person

Dislikes: dogs (they’re cute but keep them away pls), ignorant people, irresponsible people, spiders, things I’m not good at from the beginning, having to deal with strangers being upset, crying (me. I don’t like crying; I mean me, I’m fine if my friends cry)

Other fun facts!!

- my goals for the future are all over the place; I want to work for Disney, I want to get a musical composition degree, I want a biomedical engineering bachelors degree, I want an astrophysics doctorate, I want to study languages, I want to be a foreign English teacher... I can’t ever decide.

- I have a long history with getting crushes on guys who turned out to be gay. It happens so often and I HATE IT, it makes me feel terrible.

- I!!love!!70’s!!music!!so!!much!! I was raised on that stuff, my dad wouldn’t let us listen to anything else

- Lol my favourite playlist name is Drugs Playlist But I Don’t Even Do Drugs it’s just a bunch of Pink Floyd and David Bowie songs

- My favourite movies are 80’s or 90’s comedy classics!! Like Wayne’s World, or Airplane!, or Night at the Roxbury. I keep quoting Wayne’s World and no one understands :(

↬ ──:.⃗➹ +.*༉‧ᵕ̈°`*↷. ೃ₊✎⸙͎˚- ̗̀✧: ──↫

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┊ ⊹ ┊ ⋆｡˚. ੈ

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ɴᴏᴡ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ

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Hello and Welcome my Starlight!

The Haven box includes:

- Match up

- Sun drop

- Flashes of memory

- Truth or dare gone wrong

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

I'd match you up with

Sero Hanata, Cellophane

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Sun drops

The reasons I paired you

- It me awhile to think about who to match you up with

- I was thinking of either Bakugou or Denki

- BUT THEN I REMEMBERED SERO

- Sero is such an underrated character smh

- BUT THIS DYNAMIC IS WHAT I LIVE FOR

-At first, you might be annoyed at his lack of knowledge but you over past that

- His EQ can help you grow as a person as well

- You have the IQ he has the EQ, BALANCE!

- You two would often have laughing sessions at class

- No cap tho, you two would be the most interesting couple

- You guys would have a matching necklace or a Keychain (IDK why but I feel like it-)

- You get along well with Denki, (IT TOOK A LONG TIME)

- But you would rather hang out with Bakugou (He tolerates you more than the others).

- BRO, please give him love. He craves your attention

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Flashes of memories

Sero: Hello there hot stuff!

Eve: Hello there Soy sauce

Sero: NOT YOU TOO

Eve: Just kidding, Hello babe

Sero: ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?

Eve: Yes, killing you with love

Sero: Dang that's smooth

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Sero: He-

Eve: I didn't take your Pocky, Denki did

Sero: How-

Eve: You've been yelling about it for the past few minutes

Sero: Oh-

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Sero: Can you help me with studying?

Eve: Struggling again?

Sero: Yes...

Eve: Why did I date you again?

Sero: Please?

Eve: ...

Also Eve: Fine

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Truth or dare gone wrong

The class 1-A were all gathered in their common room, even Bakugou was present. The class was having a truth or dare session, it seemed interesting. “Sero, my man! Truth or dare?” Denki asked as he looked at Sero. “Truth! I choose truth,” Sero said. “Who have you been talking on the phone to this past weeks? The one I keep hearing is my pumpkin?” Denki asked. Sero’s face then turned a light shade of pink. “O-Oh- ummm,” He started as he looked away. “Does our Cellophane have a girlfriend?” Mina teased as she poked Sero. “Y-Yeah,” He stuttered. “OI THAT’S NOT FAIR?!? WHY CAN YOU HAVE A GIRL BUT I CAN’T,” Denki sulked as he placed his head on the table. “If you weren’t such a perv then maybe you can get one!” Hakagure responded.

“Don’t be shy. Tell us more,” Mina said. Sero’s blush darkened and he looked away. “We are playing truth or dare! It’s my turn to ask,” Sero then said. “Actually, I am quite curious as well. We can always continue later,” Momo said as she smiled. Everyone agreed and they then looked at the nervous male. “C’mon now guys, this is unfair,” Sero said as he looked at everyone. “But you have a girl and we want tea,” Mina then said as she sat in front of him. “I- um, you guys really want to know about her, huh?” Sero said as he chuckled. Everyone nodded and stared at Sero intently. “Just tell us already, Soy sauce,” Bakugou growled as he glared at Sero. “Don’t listen to him, bro. He is just jealous,” Kirishima said. “WHAT-“ Bakugou was about to counter but was silenced. “Fine! Fine! You got me in a corner,” Sero then said as he chuckled. “She should be coming here,” He added as he looked at the door. “Three, two, one,” He then said as he pointed to the door.

“Hello, is Sero Hanta here?”A feminine voice said. “ARE YOU A PSYCHIC?” Denki said as he looked surprised. “I’m right here pumpkin!” Sero then said as he smirked. His nervousness melted away as he saw the 5’6ft girl. It was his girlfriend, Eve, and he was overjoyed. “Hey there babe!” She then said as she smiled. “DANG YOU GOT A FINE LADY!” Denki then yelled as he checked her out. “Keep your eyes above for I’ll gorge them out,” Eve then said as she glared at Denki. Soon enough, Mineta tried to touch her as well but his efforts were at vain. Sero used his tape as to stop Mineta from getting closer. And Eve kicked him away, far away from her. “Get your filthy hands away from her,” Sero said as he stood up. He then wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. “Woah, that was so manly!” Kirishima said as he smiled.

“GIRLS! GET HER-“ Mina said as she tackled the girl. They didn’t fall down but Mina was laughing and hugging her. “Girl! How long have you been together?” Mina asked as she pulled away. Eve was a bit uncomfortable but she merely had a stoic face. “A few weeks,” She responded bluntly. And soon enough, the truth or dare session was forgotten. It was replace with the class 1-A trying to pry out the tea from the couple. Did they succeed? No, not really. Though the class seemed to love Eve and her antics. The class even tried to make them forget about the date they have planned. But either way, Sero and Eve got manage to get away to have their small movie date at his room.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Author's note

Hai bb! I'm sorry it took so long. But thanks for requesting again~

#☁️matchup #fanfic #fiction #anime #bnha imagines #bnha matchup #bnha sero #hanta sero #mha sero #mha

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homenum-revelio-hq · 3 years

Photo

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Erin!

You have been accepted for the role of LUCINDA TALKALOT with the facelaim change of Alisha Boe! We are thrilled to have Lucinda on the dash! We’re so excited to see what you bring to her, especially with her being thrown into this whole new world. We can’t wait to see her come into her own! Welcome to the roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Erin she/her

AGE: 26. Yeesh.

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I never work later than 6 on the weekdays and I’m always off on the weekends, so I should definitely be able to meet the minimum! My hope is to be active for a little bit every day, but knowing that life gets in the way, my realistic expectations is a session about three times a week.

ANYTHING ELSE: I’ve done a few Tumblr rps, but it’s been a bit since my last one. For an idea, I go all the way back to the Hogwarts Extreme days. Yeah. I’m old.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Lucinda Moira Talkalot

AGE: 19 years old as of the current timeline (February 27)

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cisgender female, she/her, and, as of now, she identifies as heterosexual.

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin

ANY CHANGES: I’d love to use Alisha Boe!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Lucinda Talkalot had always enjoyed radio dramas. Everything felt so dramatic and over the top and so unlike life. It was all pretty hilarious, the overblown dialogue and long, meandering monologues. Personally, although she thought it was all very cute, she was very happy she lived in reality, away from all the melodrama. Life wasn’t a radio play. If it was, Lucinda would happily play Dry, Sarcastic British Girl #132. And that was only if there weren’t any tree roles leftover. No one could quite put their finger on what came over the Sorting Hat to place her in Slytherin, least of all Lucinda. She took great pride in Just Being Lucinda, and was shocked to find herself suddenly sharing a room with multi-galleonaires. Not that it wasn’t neat. It was pretty neat. Like when Maribel Sparksley accidentally received her sister’s invitation to Reginald Wishwell’s Spring Cotillion on last week’s radio program. But, they all had this… oomph. No other sound effect to describe it. They had it, and she just… didn’t. She’d tried. Well, within reason. There were just some things that definitely weren’t her. Most often, they were simply too… much? She was okay with Just Being Lucinda, and most people in her life agreed. Happy with the occasional withering comment, good for a chuckle, practicing her potion-making (which she was just okay at, but that was fine with her,) happy to be who. she. was. Except for two people, both wonderful but uncomfortably pushy. First: her Quidditch captain. Lucinda had joined up because she thought it would be a fun way to pass some time, and she wound up as captain by the end of her career. All because she’d made a few quick adjustments when the chips were down. It had been a struggle for her, but dear old captain had convinced her that Just Being Lucinda was enough. Captaining a Quidditch team wasn’t as “too much” as it seemed, and the responsibilities were fewer than she thought. But, the idea of going any further than that was just completely out of the question. That adventure was plenty for her, and she was content with what she’d accomplished. Gave her something to do besides training with Uncle Maxim for when she’d inevitably go to work at (the aptly named) Maxim’s, her uncle’s long-standing apothecary, focused on “beautifying” potions. Not exactly her cup of tea, but it was a guaranteed job out of Hogwarts. But, beyond her tenacious Quidditch captain, the last pushy individual in her life was her fifth year Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher (buggers never seemed to last very long.) They were beginning their study of dueling spells and techniques, and Lucinda was visibly uncomfortable. Defense Against the Dark Arts had always been her least favorite class. It just felt very unnecessary to focus on all this doom and gloom and darkness. It’s not like Reginald Wishwell was going to burst in and attack them for crashing his party. It’s all pretty nonsensical. But, all thoughts if nonsense went out of her head when she first flicked her wand and watched her target crumble before her. From somewhere deep inside she felt something stir, almost like a want, or, more troubling, like a need. Some stray passing thought vaguely pondered if it might be that “oomph” she’d been looking for. And, when she looked down the line of targets, she saw hers was the only one so shattered. Her professor couldn’t help but whoop out a “Good show, Talkalot!” while the thrill in Lucinda’s gut gave way to a sort of pain. The same sort of distant pain she’d felt when dear old captain had handed her the reins for the Slytherin team. It went on like this for the next few weeks. They’d learn a new skill and Lucinda stood out while her insides vanished. She’d have a good-hearted laugh with her classmates afterwards, ever the joker, ever the obfuscator. It was all so silly. As if they’d ever use any if this. Then, came dueling day. Lucinda had been dreading it. They were paired up and professor gave the signal and off they went. Her opponent tumbled out of play after only one shot from her. One! She’d indicated what she was about to do as hard as she could, and yet they didn’t make one move to stop her! There were other opponents that were more difficult, but Lucinda couldn’t seem to turn it off, though part of her wanted to. It went from pairs vs pairs to the class vs Lucinda. Professor’s allegiance became embarrassingly apparent, as she couldn’t help but smile enthusiastically whenever Lucinda was crowned victorious. By the end of class, no one had beaten her. She was just too quick. And, all of them had been so easy to spot, their wand movements so languid and apparent, how could she not have guessed which spell was coming? It wasn’t a big deal. She was Just Being Lucinda. When she went to pack her things and meet up with her friends for their usual session to take the mick out of the class, professor stopped her, that enthusiastic grin still plastered on her face. “Have you ever considered joining the Dueling Club?” Lucinda nearly snorted, but managed to catch herself. She tried to imagine it, but the image was so hilarious she couldn’t picture it for long. A dueling club? Of course, she’d heard of it, but the idea of it was just as funny as the idea of her participating in it. What, was she going to be an auror or something? Ridiculous. Lucinda allowed herself a small, good-natured chuckle and politely declined. Thanks, but no thanks. But, she was persistent, and Lucinda had to dodge her until she was inevitably replaced. The rest of her career at Hogwarts was mercifully average, even considering her career as captain. Her potion-making was good enough to earn her that job at Maxim’s, and she was content, so long as she avoided her uncle’s attempts to talk politics with her. He had always been the alarmist of the family, and he didn’t need anyone feeding into his paranoia. But, Lucinda started to take notice of some strange orders coming into Maxim’s. She didn’t make the potions herself, just assisted her uncle and the other major potioneers, but there was something… off. She didn’t always recognize what they were for, though she wasn’t a particularly skilled potioneer. Not to mention, she found the general subject deathly boring and learned only the bare minimum required. Then, came the attack. It was as if everything until then in Lucinda’s life had been playing in monochrome and it all burst to sudden, grotesque, horrendous technicolor. The sharp definition of it all made her sick, and the illusion she’d never known she was spinning shattered. Suddenly, she was on the wrong side of the word “pointless." Everything would be different now. Except that she’d been right. Life wasn’t like a radio play.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

The Talkalot family is your average mixed-house heritage clan. Dad’s a Hufflepuff, Mum’s a Ravenclaw, and they were both shocked but thrilled to hear Luci had been sorted into Slytherin, just like Uncle Maxim! Most importantly, they found some peace hearing that Lucinda would be amongst Slytherins, hoping some of that aforementioned "oomph” would rub off on her. That she’d finally commit to something, for Merlin’s sake. But, Lucinda’s sorting into Slytherin solidified her choice to follow in her uncle’s path, which was somewhat disappointing to them. Well, at least she’d be taken care of. Uncle Maxim was a good role model, an exemplary business-oriented Slytherin, keeping his head to the grindstone. She’d be in good hands.

OCCUPATION:

Lucinda previously worked in her uncle’s shop as an assistant, but, obviously, that’s no longer possible. For now, she’s not thinking too far ahead and has decided to focus her time on the Order, telling her parents she’s found a new job.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Lucinda’s decision to join up was almost done on autopilot: She’d barely believed she’d done it until it was already done. But, what else was there to do? She couldn’t just stare down the Dark Mark, the actual-bloody-Dark-Mark-holy-hell, and not do… something! When it came time to offer up her talents, her vibrato faltered. Just Being Lucinda probably wasn’t going to cut it in the Order but, without thinking, she offered up her talents as a potioneer’s assistant, while mentioning she’d played some Quidditch back in Hogwarts. Of course, the actual talents she’s scared of still linger under the surface, her quick thinking, level-head, and, of course, her raw, natural dueling skills. If she could be convinced that risking the fall is worth the leap, she’d finally be able to let herself enjoy being out on the frontlines where she belongs.

SURVIVAL:

The Talkalots, in general, are nobodies. No fortune to speak of, but not destitute, either. Both of Lucinda’s parents work as office clerks for the Ministry, and not even in the fanciful departments. So, Lucinda has been and still lives at home,, content to get started at life once she was good and ready. Uncle Maxim was the only one who’d apparently kicked up some sort of minor stir. Whether Lucinda will ultimately find his actions foolish or necessary is yet to be seen.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Lucinda was fairly popular amongst her housemates, but she was no superstar, either. She was well-known for her somewhat deadpan sense of humor, and was considered generally unoffensive as a person. The person she was most shocked to consider her friend was Emma Vanity. Yes, that Emma Vanity. Emma was definitely the most interesting to talk to out of the girls, since her life was something right out of Lucinda’s radio plays. She was most shocked to find out how accurate a lot of it was, all that bowing and kow-towing. Also, Lucinda never thought she’d personally know someone in an arranged marriage, and she definitely never thought she’d be 16 and faced with giving condolences to one of her friends for the death of her fiancee. There were rumblings about what caused it, but, in classic Lucinda fashion, she considered the implications far too extreme and cancelled them out. Calling someone the “d” word (Death Eater) without concrete evidence was a bit much, especially since their friend was going to marry him. But, ever so practical Lucinda would eventually become less chivalrous towards Emma. Listen. One month is one thing. Two is another. Three is when it starts to be a bit much. The other girls started whispering when Emma wasn’t around about how pathetic it all was becoming, and at first Lucinda disagreed, inside her own head, of course. But, after a while, Emma brought with her that same doom and gloom she encountered in Defense Against the Dark Arts. She was a constant reminder of all those things Lucinda found so foreign, and she couldn’t help but turn a blind eye as Emma was slowly “uninvited” from the group. The mood lifted and the jokes were landing again, but Lucinda did occasionally feel a small twinge of guilt when she thought about it. Another on th list of unexpected acquaintances was Regulus Black. Again. Yes. THAT Regulus Black. She remembered walking into the Quidditch pitch for her first practice and seeing him, hanging around as though it was the most natural thing in the world. He wasn’t much like what most people thought of him. He wasn’t someone you’d call to liven up a party, but he also wasn’t unwelcoming. They actually shared plenty of conversations, though they never got particularly close. She’d heard about his love for Divination and knew it would be better to keep a safe distance. She’d rather not mess with that sort of stuff. Less she knows about that the better. His death was probably the biggest shock in her life before the attack. She’d never absolutely personally known a person that had died before. Antonin was one thing, but Regulus had been a full, three dimensional person in her daily life for a few years. It was surreal. Then, there was Daisy Hookum. Thankfully, they’d never been very close. She was a complete nuisance. Way too in-your-face and took things far too seriously all the time. Her thing with the muggles was just way too over the top. What was so interesting about them anyway? They're muggles. She was so pleased when she was gone, and it had only been one year. Nothing worse than a person who takes something like being a half-blood and turning it into their entire personality. Otherwise, her Uncle Maxim had really become her best friend since she’d started working with him.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

As with most people, I ship Lucinda with chemistry, but I get this feeling off of her that she might enjoy someone older, maybe quite a bit older. It would place her well out of her comfort zone (which needs to happen) and I happen to think they work very well when done right. But, ultimately, I’m for anything that feels appropriate, and would never actually try to break up any established ships. (Though I won’t promise Lucinda won’t crush on anyone she ultimately can’t have. Lol!)

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Lucinda, more than anything, has the privilege of doubt. She has room and time to waste doubting her own abilities, doubting other people’s perceptions, questioning their methods and her own until they’ve all talked themselves into a frenzy while claiming this simply makes her rational. She’s also allergic to bad news, even after her recent bout with some downright terrible news. She’d rather not know, though she might be more likely to brace herself and hear it. So long as you get it over with fast. Lol. All in all, Lucinda is what an inverted classical Slytherin personality would look like. Her “I don’t take anything seriously” persona was cultivated to protect herself from her own competitive perfectionist nature. To try is to risk failure or looking stupid, so better not to try. To believe anything is to risk being wrong and looking dumb, so doubt everything. There is a strange perfectionism in her cultivated “laidback” attitude, leading to her remaining “laidback” through two deaths and her friend getting put out because of one. Because, to care for even one moment could lead to, well, the mental state we’ll find Lucinda in after the attack. Frazzled, all nerves, shell-shocked. Regarding blood purity, if you’re wixen, you’re wixen. She has no opinions on the nitty gritty of who’s “worthiest” amongst wix. But, muggles are a bit of another story. If you asked her, she’d say she liked them, but that’s about as far as it goes. She tepidly “likes” them, but has little interest in them or their affairs. They’re just muggles. Whatever.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

I’m really excited to work through this plot as a collaborative piece! Having everyone all on the same side is a brilliant idea and helps with offering up parameters to encourage creativity.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): Other than a reason for Lucinda to pull out her wand and own it, nothing!

ANYTHING ELSE? Nope!

#homenumaccepted

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years

Text

Daniel Michaelson: The Adoption

I meant to write the baking-cookies drabble from Danny’s adoption stuff came out instead! Whoops. No warnings for this, beyond it being pretty bittersweet - takes place in the past, when Danny is five years old.

I’ll tag the usual people - even though this isn’t really whump. But it’s background for Danny!

@finder-of-rings, @bleeding-demon-teeth, @spiffythespook, @special-spicy-chicken

“He’s small,” The woman says, looking down at him, and Danny tries to straighten his back and make himself as tall as he possibly can. His hair sticks up a lot, which he has to hope helps at least a little. “Why is he so small? The papers I looked at said he’s five years old, has been since July.”

“He was born premature,” The social worker says without looking up from her paperwork.

She’d brought Danny a cheeseburger Happy Meal and he’d inhaled every single bite and licked all the salt off his fingers afterward, so happy to have enough food to feel full and not have to fight any of the other kids for a single bit of it. He was currently twisting back and forth the little arms of the plastic toy man that had been inside the box, making him fight an invisible bad guy that kept punching him but he couldn’t see it.

The toy man was from some movie, but it wasn’t out were Miss Karla could buy it yet, so he didn’t really know anything about it. Fighting an invisible bad guy seemed like the right thing to do with him.

Bam, Danny thought to himself, making a mean snarling face. Punch him, kick his head.

“He was born eight weeks early, according to medical records,” The social worker continues, giving a loose, casual shrug. “He spent three weeks in the NICU before he went to his first placement.” This social worker was a new one, way younger than the last social worker. She didn’t seem to like him very much, but actually Danny thought mostly she looked more tired than angry, so maybe she didn’t mind him like some of the others did.

The woman sitting at the table leans over, her voice pitched low, probably thinking Danny can’t hear her. Little pitchers have big ears, they said all the time at Kindergarten. He didn’t know exactly what that meant, other than adults said it to shut each other up when he was in the room. “Were there drug issues? We specified that we were not interested in taking on a greater than average amount of obligation-”

“He’s not a dog, Mrs. Michaelson,” The social worker says, looking up with the barest hint of an edge to her voice, and Danny fights back the tiniest little smile. It’s kind of nice, having one who sticks up for him. Usually they don’t. “But I understand what you’re trying to say, or at least what I hope you’re trying to say. Please understand that your guidelines were taken into account by the agency you contracted when they contacted us. Daniel was premature due to pregnancy-related complications with the mother, that’s all.”

“Complications? Does that mean there’s a family history of serious health concerns? Did his mother die?” The woman’s fingers stopped tapping again, and Danny looks back at his toy, but some of the shine has gone out of having a new thing (and Danny doesn’t exactly have a lot of things just for him), because he knows the answer to that question.

She gave me up.

The social worker’s eyes go to him, and Danny ignores her, setting his jaw in an angry, pouting line, and the invisible bad guy punched his toy until he died. Then he lived and got back up, but the dead part was pretty satisfying.

The social worker looks back at the pretty woman in the nice clothes and jewelry and sighs, a little sadly. “No, she didn’t. She chose to, um, to place him with state care.”

“Do you know why she chose to-”

“She was thirteen years old, Mrs. Michaelson,” The social worker says quietly, so quietly Danny almost misses it. Thirteen isn’t very old, he thinks. One of his foster brothers, Craig, is thirteen, and he’s not even in high school yet. Danny could count to thirteen easily and without even needing help when he was four years old, so he knows it can’t be a very high number. That makes him think. If he’s five years old and his real mother was thirteen years old, then thirteen plus five is… Danny counts on his fingers, trying to remember.

If it’s ten eleven twelve thirteen… then it’s fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen… eighteen.

That would make his real mom eighteen.

Danny sits back, proud of himself for doing the counting all in his head and on his fingers, without having to ask the grown-ups, who were still talking about him like he couldn’t hear them.

Most grown-ups did.

“You can understand,” His social worker was saying, “Why a thirteen-year-old might make such a choice with even the healthiest baby. The home life was... not ideal.”

“I can understand.” The woman’s mouth purses a little, like she has a bite of food in her mouth she doesn’t like. “Poor thing. But you’re sure he’s healthy?”

The social worker shrugs. “He could use more time out in the sun and probably someone who lets him play outside more often, but… he’s healthy enough. He measured between 6th and 13th percentile straight through from birth until now, and his growth is steady. Honestly, ma’am, with a decent enough food intake he’d probably grow faster and catch right up. But...”

The social worker waves her hand around the house they’re sitting in, a vague gesture that means nothing to Danny - but the woman sitting at the table nods very seriously, and so Danny tries to look serious, too.

The woman raises an eyebrow and looks around the dining room. The large table has enough chairs for twelve people to sit, and Danny is unlucky number thirteen - the youngest - so he was used to sitting at the card table off in the corner, where he sat now, swinging his legs in the folding chair and making the toy man run across the table and dive-bomb towards the floor.

When he makes the little exploding sound, the woman sitting at the table - she has pretty brown skin and black hair, and funny honey-colored eyes - smiles at him, and he smiles right back at her. She has a really, really pretty smile - warm and nice.

His foster mother is nowhere to be seen - Miss Carla didn’t really like talking to his social worker anyway, and she had been furious to hear about the rich lady coming to look at Danny, which… Danny didn’t really get, since getting adopted was a good thing.

Then again, Miss Carla didn’t exactly like him very much. Danny had a mouth, Miss Carla said all the time, and Danny would just grin at her with all his teeth inside that mouth.

Then he called her whatever names the older boys had taught him, only he got in trouble because the words were different when the older boys said them, for some reason.

His social worker had told him this lady and her husband had chosen him straight away after seeing his photo, and so he had combed his own red hair this morning nice and careful (no one else ever did) and dressed in his absolute best clothing - his favorite blue T-shirt and his good brown pants, his Sunday pants.

He wasn’t sure if the lady at the table had noticed, but he was sort of hoping so.

“How are his academics?” The lady at the table asks, glancing over at him again. He smiles brightly at her, trying to get her to smile again - he’s pretty sure she likes him. He’s little, and he’d heard Miss Carla say that little kids get adopted faster.

His biggest foster brothers probably won’t, he thinks, if that’s true. They’re both big and mean, and they look older than they really are. Parents won’t want them, even if Miss Carla likes them the best because they act like her.

“I’m in kindergarten,” Danny speaks up, holding the little toy man in his hands, nervously twisting at his arms again. His voice is high and clear, and he swings his legs a little harder where he sits. “I have lots of good days on my take-home sheets. More good than bad, Miss Carla says.”

“That’s right, Daniel, you do,” His social worker replies, and she smiles at him, finally - a thin and tired smile - as she flips through the paperwork she brought with her in a big folder with his name on it and his photo paperclipped to the outside. “Daniel’s in his first year at public school,” She says to the lady at the table. “He’s in a class of 25-”

“My God.” The woman at the table puts a hand up to her chest. “We’re looking at an exclusive Montessori for our little boy with an average class size of eight - I showed you his photo, the three-year-old. Obviously Daniel would also attend, I’ve already ensured him a spot should we bring him home, I’m good friends with the director. I just cannot imagine attempting to corral so many five year olds-”

“Most of them are already six, actually - Daniel is the third-youngest in his class. In any case, based on his school reports, he excels at academics and struggles with focus, sitting still, and social interactions. Makes sense for the age and his current… ah, situation.” The social worker looks at him again, and Danny sits himself up just a little straighter, making the toy man wave his little movable arm at her.

The smile this time is less tired, and more real.

“Does he do well with younger children?” The woman at the table asks. “I mentioned our other son - he’s just turning three. Any aggression would be absolutely unacceptable-”

“He loves younger children actually - his last placement was with a foster home that had very young babies and toddlers other than him, about a year ago for three months, and his foster parents reported that he was very gentle and loving with the younger children. I’ve been told he changed diapers, watched the younger ones, and was very good at comforting younger children at night.”

Well, Danny thinks to himself, nobody else woke up as fast as I did, so...

“Ryan doesn’t wear diapers any longer, so we’re not worried about that, but… why was he moved, if he was so good with them?”

Danny looked down at the floor, because he knew the answer to this question, too.

Because she was growing a new baby and there wasn’t any room anymore.

“His previous foster mother became pregnant,” The social worker says brusquely, waving one hand in a dismissive way. “All the foster children in that home were moved to new placements at the couples’ request.”

“That must have been hard on the children,” The lady says, and her voice changes a little. It’s softer, but angrier at the same time. “They must have bonded. The young ones bond so quickly-”

The social worker shrugs. “It’s not uncommon. Daniel had some… difficulty adjusting here, but he’s doing well now.”

“Difficulty?”

“It’s all in the paperwork,” The social worker replies, looking uneasily over at Danny again, who only stares back at her with his best totally-blank ‘I wasn’t listening’ face, even though he absolutely was. “He had conflicts with his new foster brothers, missed the little ones. Struggled with the change in schedules and rules. That happens with every new move, learning a whole new household.”

“So… when he moved, he doesn’t see the other children any longer?”

The social worker blinks, surprised by this line of questioning. “Ah, no. He has no further contact with them, that would be… incredibly difficult to put together, considering he’s not related to any of the other foster children. It really isn’t an uncommon situation, kids in the system tend to adapt really quickly to the loss of foster siblings.”

The lady at the table’s mouth thins, just a little. Danny watches, fascinated, at the way her honey eyes shift, and for a second he sees them flash a really pretty purple. Then the color was gone, before he even blinked.

The social worker isn’t looking up, and didn’t see it, and honestly maybe Danny just made it up. He did that sometimes.

“If we come to a decision in favor of bringing him home,” The lady at the table says, her voice firm and warm and calm, “It should be with the understanding that it will be permanent. I dislike the idea of such a young child being moved around so often, that cannot be healthy.”

“It’s not, Mrs. Michaelson, but that’s the system we work with.” The social worker sighs. “Daniel, will you come over here for a second? Mrs. Michaelson wants to speak with you.”

Mrs. Michaelson hadn’t said any such thing, but Danny shrugs and nods, hopping off the chair to walk over to her, tilting his head and looking up and up and up at her pretty eyes. No purple at all.

“Hi,” He says, politely. “You can just say Danny. I don’t really like Daniel.”

The woman - Mrs. Michaelson - nods, slowly, thoughtfully, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “He really is exactly what we had in mind when we began discussing bringing a child home for-... to be a sibling for Ryan,” Mrs. Michaelson says, her voice softer and more gentle now that he stood right there with her. She turns her eyes back to Danny and leans down to get a little closer to him. “I have a little boy named Ryan at my house. Do you think you could be nice to him?”

“Oh, sure,” Danny replies, nodding, because that’s what he’s supposed to say. And he really does like the littler kids - he’s small and littler kids don’t pick on him like all the big kids do. “I always think it’s fun to play big brother. Is your house very big? Would I share with him?”

“Share?” Mrs. Michaelson cocked her head, and it was like Miss Carla’s cockatoo in its cage, and Danny giggled a little. She smiled at the sound. “Oh, like a bedroom? No, darling, you would have your own room, of course you would.”

“Then I think I could be a good big brother,” Danny says, with a grave and thoughtful voice he thought sounded very grown-up. He was rewarded with another smile. Mrs. Michaelson looks him over one more time, taking in his skinny arms and the freckles scattered across his face and the rest of him darkened by the time he spent just sitting outside in the sun.

“He really does fit the profile we were hoping for exactly,” Mrs. Michaelson says, but her voice is very quiet and she seems to be talking more to herself than Danny or even the social worker. “They’re looking for Ryan, but that hair, those freckles… that’s what they think they need to look for, isn’t it? They think we’ re meant to be Irish, but oh no, we’ll fool them, won’t we? We always have...”

“Huh?” Danny cocks his head right back at her, and she laughs, a brilliant, sparkling sound that he loves already.

“I’m sorry, what?” The social worker asks, looking up.

“Oh, nothing,” Mrs. Michaelson says breezily. “Just muttering to myself. I don’t need to speak with Patrick about this, I’ve already decided. We’ll move forward with the adoption immediately.” The social worker smiles, and the two women begin to speak in low tones, throwing words and terms and stuff back and forth Danny hadn’t heard before and doesn’t know. He steps a little closer, and a little closer still.

Danny blinks.

He blinks again.

“The what?”

The two women turn to look down at him.

“Oh,” The social worker says, surprised. “Daniel. Mrs. Michaelson would like to consider adopting you. Would you like to go stay with her and see how it works out?”

“Go stay? For real?” Danny’s heart starts to beat fast inside of him, like when he stands up in front of music class to sing. He smiles, and he clutches onto the little toy man as tightly as he can. “For really real?”

Mrs. Michaelson laughs again, and he hopes she will laugh like that for him a lot when he goes to her house. “For really real,” She says with a nod, and leans over to tap the end of his nose with one finger.

“I, I, I’ll go get my things! I don’t have a lot of things, but I do have, I have a little dog I carry around his name is, um, his name is Scruff and he has a collar but I can get him and I have some clothes-” Danny starts to turn, only for both women to laugh.

He stops and looks back at them, suddenly embarrassed, his face burning bright red under his freckles, feeling his lower lip stick out all on its own. Miss Carla is always telling him to pout less, but he can’t stop, it’s not his fault, the lip just does that.

“Oh,” He says, and feels a wave of hurt and mad. “Oh, it was a joke. I thought you meant for really real.”

The social worker is the first to understand, and her expression goes serious and thoughtful. “Daniel, we’re not laughing because it was a joke. It’s not, Mrs. Michaelson really does want to bring you home to meet her little boy.”

“I do,” Mrs. Michaelson says. “As soon as I can. We were only laughing because you were so excited - and it can’t happen right away, it takes a little while. The agency has already put everything in motion, of course,” She says sidelong to the social worker. “It’s just a matter of getting all the right papers to the right people.”

“Of course.”

“Then we’ll take you home, Daniel,” Mrs. Michaelson says to him, and bops him on the nose again. He hates when his foster brothers do this - they always flick the end of his nose and make it hurt - but he kind of likes it, from her.

“Yeah? Not a joke?” Danny’s head goes back up, and he searches both of their faces for signs it’s still just a mean joke, like when Conrad apologizes and then smacks his head again and he didn’t mean the apology at all. “For really really real?”

“Not a joke,” Mrs. Michaelson says, and there’s a sweet little smile on her face as she puts her hand out, littlest finger crooked. “Pinkie swear.”

Danny puts his hand up, too, and he hopes that she understands how much it really means when you say you pinkie swear a thing, because that means you have to do it.

“For really really really really real,” He says, seriously. “You have to mean it or you shouldn’t say it.”

“I mean it,” Mrs. Michaelson says softly. “I really, really mean it. Don’t worry, Danny. I’m going to bring you home to stay with us, and you’ll be just like another son. My little boy Ryan is going to love you. He’s always asking for a brother.”

“Are you going to love me?”

The question startles the two women, who blink down at him in unison.

Then Mrs. Michaelson leans over to tuck a curly bit of bright red hair behind one ear, and smile. “I’m sure I will.”

#Daniel Michaelson's story #not whump #but from a whump story #tiny child danny #corrine michaelson is a bad mom #but he really thought she'd be a great one #poor guy #whump #fiction #daniel michaelson is a tall smol bean #but he used to be a very tiny one #tw: depictions of less than ideal foster care

139 notes · View notes

yoshichao · 4 years

Text

the Smashers and their Host Ch13 Preview

Series: Super Smash Bros.

Characters: Reader, Literally Everyone In Super Smash Bros Ultimate

Summary: You're an inter-dimensional being that owns a huge estate situated on the cusp of spacetime. You've been asked to rent out your mansion for the upcoming Super Smash Bros. tournament. What could possibly go wrong?

Tags: Reader-Insert, Romantic & Platonic Harem, Comedy, Fluff, No Smut

Read the fic here!

[So after a year, I finally finished chapter 11... During my writer’s block, I actually started on what was then going to be chapter 12, but I’ve seen then squeezed another chapter between them in the plans. So, if all goes according to plan, this will be May’s update. Anyways, I feel like posting it so!! It’s not as meaty as the chapter 11 preview - this one is only about 2k words instead of a whopping 13k - but I hope you enjoy regardless!]

You can’t help but stare as the roller coaster above slowly reaches its peak before plummeting downwards, accompanied by a chorus of screams. Just watching the cars zip through loops and corkscrews makes your head spin, and you find yourself grateful that you aren’t on that particular ride. You don’t know if your heart could take it.

The repairs at the mansion finished with accompanying fanfare (well, in your head, at least) and you thought you’d be able to sit back and relax for a bit. Your new life had other plans, of course, and the Smashers were absolutely insatiable, so you had been invited to join them to an amusement park. Honestly, you should have declined - you wanted to! - but…

“Pleaaaaase?” Roy had been the one to ask you to join them, giving you puppy dog eyes as he held the brochure out. The park was in a place called Nimbasa City - recently expanded! grand re-opening! - which you recognized as a place in the Pokemon universe.

“You know you can go without me, right?” you tried, still feeling worn out from all the Social Activities and babysitting you’ve been doing lately. The other day, you found DK using Pac-man as a bowling ball to “prank” anyone wandering the halls. Then the following day, you’re pretty sure Villager and Toon Link had a slingshot competition with the mansions’ windows. And then the day after that, Leaf helped you play detective to find out who was stealing all the speakers throughout the mansion, just to find Diddy Kong using them to create a “gaming set-up fit for a king”.

Why.

Completely oblivious to your weariness, Roy’s expression remained enthusiastic, even when he gave you a mock-frown. “Sure, but, you said we would hang out together next time everyone was doing something!”

“I did?”

“Yeah, you did!”

Oh right, you did. You did say that after he wasn’t invited to the sleepover. Curse you and your desire to keep everyone happy! Now you have to go!

And so, after someone consulted Master Hand about building a temporary transporter directly to Nimbasa City, here you are.

“Whoa, it’s even cooler than in the pictures!” Roy, determined to take you up on your offer to spend time together, arrived via teleporter alongside you. While the mansion has been abuzz over another multiverse outing, you have no idea who actually intended on going. It’s already midday, so there are probably plenty of Smashers already here…

Pulling your gaze away from the roller coaster, you notice that your redheaded companion was also staring intently at the Rayquaza-themed deathtrap. His expression is strained, leading you to believe the both of you are thinking the same thing.

“Why don’t we start with getting something to eat?” you suggest, thinking of the safest option possible. Oh, but if you end up going on rides with a full stomach… Hm, maybe that’s not as safe as you thought. But Roy eagerly takes your suggestion and you have no choice but to follow him to the food court.

“That’s a great idea! I’m dying to see what kind of food this world has!”

You can’t help but agree, but his words have curiosity bubbling within you. “Have you never visited the Pokemon world before?”

“Only once, during Melee!” His grin is almost infectious, though it mellows out as he continues talking. “We never came out here during the last tournament season! ...Or at least, not while I was around.” Roy frowns a moment before putting on another smile, though this one seems a bit more forced. “Melee’s whole thing though was that we were travelling to a new universe for each round of the tournament. For the Pokemon world though, we took a blimp to the stadium, so we didn’t really get to explore…”

That’s right - you forgot Roy was technically only invited to one full tournament, so he wouldn’t have had as much time to relax and travel around with the others. It was only by popular demand that he was invited for the “extra” tournaments, appearing alongside Ryu as a secret opponent for the champions of the mini doubles tournament. They’d both go on to appear in the remaining tournaments and random matchups of the season. While that would have given him a few months to participate in fun activities with the others, you have to imagine a lot of that slows down during tournament season.

“But, a few Smashers and I snuck out between matches to check out the local town.” Roy continues his story sheepishly, smiling fondly at the memory. “And then we uh, went a bit too far… got lost in a cave… We made it back just in time for our next match, but Master Hand really gave us an earful…” He laughs awkwardly, and you find yourself snickering at the idea of Master Hand panicking when he discovered some of his hotshot superstars have gone missing.

“Who all went with you?”

He counts them off on his fingers as he lists everyone. “Me, Pichu, Young Link, Popo, Nana... oh, and Ness. Pikachu ended up being the one who found us lost in the cave.”

You can just imagine the six of them running in circles trying to find the exit, just to have Pikachu show up and use its familiarity of the region to lead them out in mere minutes.

...Huh. Funny, most of those six are Smashers that didn’t get invited back every year afterwards. And you remember there had once been rumours that Ness wasn’t going to be invited back to Brawl…

...Eh, probably just a coincidence. Master Hand wouldn’t exclude someone over an incident like that.

“I’m surprised Pikachu didn’t try to get you even more lost on purpose,” you say offhandedly. Roy’s expression is surprisingly contemplative.

“Nah, Pikachu used to be cool back then. Like, sure he liked to hype up the crowd, but outside of matches he was really chill.” He pauses. “I was surprised to find out he kind of became a jerk. Apparently he’s just been that way since the start of Brawl.”

“Really?” And here you thought the first tournament had been the catalyst to its inflated ego, where the electric rodent had won both the singles and the doubles tournaments that season. Pikachu’s record during Melee was pretty average… maybe something else happened between that and Brawl? An event none of the Smashers would have known about?

Roy shrugs - he’s just in the dark about it as you are - and you notice you’ve arrived at the food court, signalling the end of the conversation. You spot a Pansage, a Panpour, and a Pansear behind a long counter. Pansage takes orders and hands them to the other two monkeys, who then proceed to rush around unnecessarily chaotically to put the order together. This seems like the type of environment where mistakes are easily made, but a lot of people seem to be eating food from here, so apparently they know what they’re doing…?

You end up ordering a Rawst Burger and a lemonade, while Roy gets a corn dog and a soda pop. On your way to finding somewhere to sit, you spot Falco getting his hot dog stolen by the Duck Hunt Dog. You’re glad he’s too far to notice you laughing.

“Look, there’s space at that table!” Your attention is brought back to Roy, who is pointing at a table with only one other person sitting at it. Coincidentally, the spiky blond haired dude there is someone you recognize as part of the Smash crew. Roy takes longer to recognize him - it’s not until you’ve both rounded the table to sit across from the swordsman that he addresses him.

“Oh hey, you’re that guy… uh, Rain, was it?”

When the blond looks up and you see his face, an involuntary snort arises from your throat as you try to hold back laughter.

“It’s Cloud. Cloud Strife.” Apparently they offer facepainting somewhere at the park, because Cloud’s face is covered in ink that resembles a bunny. When combined with his completely serious expression, you have to hide a smile behind your hand as you sit down.

“Right, that’s it. I knew that.” Roy sits next to you, raising an eyebrow at the swordsman across from you two. “What’s on your face?”

“It’s a rabbit.”

“I guess someone is offering facepainting somewhere?” you clarify helpfully, and Roy’s face lights up in recognition.

“Oh! That sounds fun.” He looks to you with enthusiasm. “Hey, what animal do you think I should get? Heh, probably something fierce, like a lion, or--”

“A puppy,” you reply without hesitation, interrupting his own ideas. Roy looked shocked at your suggestion - almost even offended. Whoops.

“A-A puppy? Not like… a bigger dog? A wolf, maybe…?”

“I think a puppy would suit you as well,” Cloud agrees. Roy’s jaw drops as he’s left struggling for an objection, but Cloud moves the conversation before he can say anything. “They also do portraits - look.”

He hands you a large rolled up piece of canvas paper that you’ve been curious about for awhile now before returning to picking at his funnel cake (mm, you gotta get one of those later). Roy leans into your personal space to take a look as you unroll it.

Oh my. That is certainly a caricature.

Roy almost immediately lets out a laugh. “Wo-ow! That would explain your face.”

The canvas blocks your vision so you can’t see Cloud’s face, but you can hear him exhale deeply. Rolling the portrait back up, you place it down on the table.

“I like the style! The art is very clean.” You’ve seen a lot of skill levels in the art found in your mansion, so it’s pretty easy to think outside of “bad” and “good”. Then of course, there’s your own art to consider… yeesh. “I think the artist really captured your character.”

“That’s what I thought,” Cloud responds with a nod, relaxing in the seat. Roy snorts beside you, and you refrain from elbowing him quiet in favour of shooting him a wry look.

“What, you think you could do better?”

Your challenge seems to actually take him off guard, and he fumbles to regain his confidence. “Uh… pfft. Of course. Anyone could do that.” He tries to laugh confidently, but there’s a clear nervous edge to it. Refusing to show him mercy, you play along by feigning amazement.

“Really? Wow, I’d love to see that. Maybe we should have an art show back at the mansion! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“O-Ooh, I mean… You really think people would be interested in that…?”

Cloud recognizes the game you are playing and chimes in with an immediate “I would”. You do a gesture as if to say “see??”, smiling bright and devious until his resolve finally breaks.

“F-Fine! I’ll do it! But don’t say I didn’t warn you, cuz I’m… really good!!” His voice shakes with anxiety at the end, and it takes all you have not to burst out laughing. This is good. This is so good. You’ll have to file this “art show” idea away for down the road, so you can spring it on him again unexpectedly. Although, torture and humiliation aside, you actually suddenly are curious if any of the Smashers are secretly artists.

“Yes! I’m looking forward to it!” With a grin, you end the conversation by finally picking up your burger and taking a bite into it. Huh, it tastes… fruity. Bitter. Wait, that must be because there are Rawst Berries used in it. Guess you should have seen this coming. You don’t hate it, but the taste has definitely taken you off-guard and you’re not sure you like the mix of meat and berry.

You must have been making a face because Cloud slides his funnel cake plate halfway across the table. “Here. I probably won’t finish it anyways.”

Forgetting about his previous worries, Roy smiles and reaches for the plate. “Ooh, don’t mind if I do--” To his dismay, Cloud hits his hand away.

“I didn’t offer it to you.”

Roy looks torn. You’d feel bad for him if it wasn’t so funny. Likewise, you usually try to politely decline gifts so as to not seem greedy, but you are enjoying having fun at Roy’s expense. “Thanks!” You put down the burger and reach for a piece of the doughy, sugary treat. Ripping it off, you pop it in your mouth and audibly hum in delight. Hehe, you’re a real devil!! If you wanted to be really mean, you could mention how sad it is that Roy can’t know how good this is, but you are not that cruel. Not right now, at least.

Between stealing chunks of funnel cake and continuing to try finishing the burger (nnnnnope, still tastes weird!), you let your mind wander to thoughts regarding the swordsman across from you. Back in the day, Cloud was a popular request to join the tournament despite existing extremely far away from the bubble of universes Master Hand typically picked from. When he was announced as a surprise participant in the final Super Smash Bros. 4 season tournament, fans exploded with excitement. You were honestly surprised to see him on the list for the Ultimate roster - you hear that Cloud Strife is a tough guy to work with and that’s why he doesn’t make many multiverse appearances despite his popularity. Not even the heads of the more local Playstation All-Stars tournament could get him. Master Hand must have really pulled some strings to get him to participate in Smash not once, but twice.

[...and that is unfortunately all I have. See you next month for chapter 12!]

#tsath #the smashers and their host #super smash bros #fanfiction

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grandmalavi · 5 years

Text

Why Marquillo/Serquel seem so similar to Jisbon to me

If you've never watched The Mentalist, then you won't get what I'm talking about here... But if you did, I'll try to get my point across properly.

So, here we have two ships I've fallen in love with, first Jisbon (Jane x Lisbon) and then later Marquillo (Sergio x Raquel), and I can't stop but to see several similarities between the two couples, somehow. It's strange, really, once The Mentalist and La Casa de Papel aren't similar shows at all, but while watching Raquel Murillo come in scene for the first time on tv, defying all male characters (Professor included) that'd threat her disrespectfully, I got major Teresa Lisbon's vibes right off the bat. Both strong women, both constantly judged less for being females in a major male work enviroment, both badass cops that are smart and caring leaders in their own way...

And then Sergio came in view as this mastermind, genious Professor character who schemed the (almost) perfect heist plan, a guy who makes his every move against the police like a chess player moving pieces on the board, always a step ahead, all the time. I mean, this is such a clever guy he pisses me off sometimes, you know? Just like Patrick Jane.

Jane was an asshole half of time because he enjoyed messing around with people so much, because he was innevitably the smartest person in a room and he knew it, often getting so damn bored with average people's intelligence he'd simply manipulate them into doing whatever the hell he needed them to do, instead of explaining the details behind his thinking... Sergio lacks the smugness and overall people skills, sure, but underneaath all his shyness he is very confident on his own mental capacity, which is clear in his invention of these two different personalities (El Professor and Salva) that'd surpass him on the romantic and confidence topics he'd have to overcome until the end of the heist, once as Sergio he'd be vulnerable on both. They're both moved forward torwards an ultimate goal (Red John x The Perfect Heist) that cost them too much, loved ones and decades of their lives, without mentioning how poorly these two men have managed to live while on pursue of such objectives, putting their personal and mental health aside to do so.

I say less about Lisbon and Raquel (whose codename now is Lisboa, the city, Lisbon in english, ironically) because they're in essence very simple characters to understand. They're just women, they lived great part of their careers by the book, following the law, until they met their respective love interests and everything turned upside down. And I love Teresa Lisbon, I do, but unlike her, Raquel Murillo isn't anyone's ideal of good and selfless, which I admire the most about her character. Raquel is often impulsive and clueless when it comes to El Professor, and later, during part 3, we see her downhill pissed at him and actually arguing their problems to his face... Lisbon, however, is too good of a friend of Jane's to hurt him on purpose during a fight, and way too motherly (she's so used to overprotecting him their relationship sometimes honestly sucks) to threat him as her dumbass boyfriend only, most of the times.

I like that Raquel can, and will speak for herself (specially being a silenced, abused woman once) whenever she feels like she's bothered by her partner's behavior somehow. Because it means she's perfectly capable of whooping Sergio's clueless ass when it comes down to it, and that they're a couple tha can actually talk their problems through instead of simply sulking quietly until shit hits the fan, you know? I also prefer Sergio's insecurities and how honestly he displays them, specially to Raquel, whenever she notices him struggling with part 3's plan... Patrick Jane wouldn't be unsure of his success at the end of a con, and in case that'd happen he'd keep it to himself, usually, even being kind of dissmissive of everyone else's opinions when it'd come to something he'd think of himself (he wasn't any good at admitting his own flaws, and I could count on my fingers how many times he actually apologized to Lisbon on the show). :(

Anyway, I guess what I'm trying to say is that, although I love both ships equally, Marquillo has everything I've ever wished for Jisbon going on, and I absolutely adore it. And, ahem, if the Marquillo shippers struggling out here get the same luck Jisbon's ones got in the past, well, let's just say Raquel and Sergio will be saying their vows pretty soon. Hopefully, season 4 kind of soon...

Well, a fan can only hope!

#marquillo #sergio marquina #raquel murillo #sergio x raquel #jisbon #jane x lisbon #patrick jane #teresa lisbon #the mentalist #la casa de papel

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yourkeeperoftherunners · 5 years

Text

Your Favorite? [1]

Plot: AU You’re part of the exchange program group from another country attending a Semester Abroad for university credit in Australia. The other students have been welcoming and friendly since you’ve arrived. You fell in with three students but two of them may like you more than just as a friend. So the big question they have for you is: who is your favorite Aussie?

Rating: PG (Light language, crushes, friendly competition)

Characters: University Student!Christopher (Bang Chan), University Student!Felix, University Student!Rosé, Foreign Exchange Student!Female Reader, plus mention of other members.

Notes: This was inspired by another event during the time I hosted Australian exchange students in high school. We all attended a party with the hosts and exchange students and a mutual friend of the girls I hosted tried to get me to say he was my favorite Aussie. (One of the girls I hosted, plus another exchange student shut him down quickly to save me from awkwardness, but it was funny.) In this story, I’m focusing only on the Aussie line from Stray Kids and BLACKPINK. (I know there’s two other idols who are from Australia but I’m not as familiar with them and I wanted to keep it focused on these three.)

---------------------

“I need to study with you for the next exam,” Rosé sighed as she moved her bag higher on her shoulder.

You swiped her test from her hand and took a quick look. “The grade’s not that bad Rosie – it’s better than the class average!”

“But it’s still not as high as I wanted it!” she pouted. She puffed her cheeks out like a chipmunk and you laughed, before passing the test back.

“She’s storing nuts again,” a warm voice teased from behind.

Both of you turned to see it was Christopher, another student in your year, who was studying Music Production. Rosé scowled at the comment and nudged Christopher in the arm, which prompted him to fake being hurt.

“Y/N, she’s hurting me!” he whined.

Rosé shot him a look and gestured to his impressive biceps. “I didn’t elbow you that hard! Besides, you’ve got muscles.”

“Blame Han – he called you Chaemunk,” Chris whispered, pretending to nurse his arm.

“Come on you two, knock it off,” you said, shaking your head. “Can we talk about anything else that doesn’t involve Contemporary Literature?”

Christopher straightened up and came around to your other side. He tilted his head and shared that his roommate was hosting a party this weekend.

“Which one? Han or your exchange student roommate Changbin?” you asked.

“Han of course,” Christopher confirmed. “Binnie’s going to be there too, but he’s a bit shy.”

You raised a brow and Rosé explained that she heard the last party Chris was at got shut down by authorities. He held his hands up and insisted it wasn’t his party.

“Ladies, I was an attendee the last time!” he protested. “I make sure we respect the neighbors, don’t let the underage ones drink, and everyone is safe.”

“Sorry Chris, but Rosie and I already made plans,” you shared. “Plus I promised Lix I’d beat him in a round of Mario Party.”

“Lix? You mean Felix Lee?”

“Yeah I call him Lix sometimes,” you clarified. “Maybe we can grab lunch or coffee next week?”

“Oh um, course!” he said as you neared your dormitory. “Well, see you.”

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“You’re moping because of Y/N, aren’t you?” Changbin asked him in Korean. He had taken a break from messing with a track he was composing and saw Chris was glumly looking through his phone.

“Huh? Um no, no! Binnie, I’m bored, that’s all!” Chris insisted. He tried to turn his phone off, but Changbin already noticed that Chris was scrolling through your Instagram.

“You’re Instagram-stalking her,” the roommate noted with an amused look. “Look, why not ask her on a real date?”

Chris put his phone face down and sighed. In theory, he should have pucked up the courage to tell you that he thought you were cool. You completely defied his expectations of someone from your home country and he liked spending time with you. The semester was starting to fly by and eventually, you’d be leaving Australia, possibly for good. But he hated the thought of putting himself out there, only to end in rejection and losing a good friend in the process.

Changbin took a seat next to the other male and folded his hands on the counter. He looked around the kitchen and sighed.

“I get...that you don’t want to scare her off,” he said, “but I think you’re going to hate yourself if you say nothing.” He looked over his shoulder at Chris and asked if you were coming to Han’s party.

Chris shook his head and revealed that you already made plans with Rosé and Felix this weekend. Changbin nodded to show he understood and tilted his head as he thought for a moment.

“Maybe next weekend or after class? If you’re worried, maybe do something lowkey, like coffee or ice cream?” he suggested.

---------------------

“Buh bye Loser!” you taunted as you steered your character past Felix’s. You pressed your controls to make your car jump a bridge in the mini challenge, and whooped when it landed safely on the other side. Your car was moments away from the Finish line when Felix’s car landed behind yours.

You hunched your shoulders forward as you steered the car, trying to keep the gap between your car and his. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Felix poking his tongue out through his lips as he concentrated on the path to the Finish line.

You bit your lip as some boulders rolled across your path and you made swerving maneuvers and some jumps to avoid them. Felix hit one and groaned loudly as his car spun out of control, hitting another in the process. This gave you enough time to push forward and have your avatar cross the finish line.

“YES!” you cheered, throwing your controller down.

Felix huffed as he put his down a bit roughly on the couch, shaking his head. “That’s not fair!”

You whirled around and grinned, leaning over to rumple his hair. “Tough luck Lix – I said I wasn’t going easy on you.”

Felix managed to keep the pout on his face, chewing on his bottom lip slightly to hide how much he liked your fingers running through his hair. He knew the gesture was done in a friendly, almost sibling-like manner, but he wished you see that it was only a year gap between the both of you.

“Okay, what’s the punishment for losing?” he deadpanned.

You shook your head and told him that you weren’t putting him through a punishment. “You said we should hang and try to beat each other in games, so that’s what we did,” you reminded him, resuming your place on the couch. You smiled softly and thanked Felix for inviting you over. “I really needed to stop thinking about my classes and tests and do something mindless but fun. Thanks Felix.”

He softened his expression and nodded, allowing a brilliant smile to spread across his face.

“Of course,” he replied.

---------------------

“You’re not paying for mine!”

Chris smirked as he slid in front of you and passed over money for your coffee and pastries to the cashier. “Too late.”

“I’ll pay you back,” you insisted as you grabbed your cup and plate with the choux bun.

He shook his head and declared it was his treat. You sighed, thanking him as you carried your things over to a table by the window. He followed with his cup and some napkins and forks.

He had taken Changbin’s advice and asked if you wanted to check out this trendy dessert cafe in town after both of you were done with class. It was lowkey and this way he could gauge your feelings for him before pouring his heart out to you.

“Classes going all right?” he asked as he sank into his seat.

You nodded as you put the choux bun in the center of the table, indicating that you could share it with him. He passed you a fork and some napkins, prompting you to take the first bite.

You stabbed your fork into the pastry and picked up some of the shell and the creme filling. He watched as you tried your bite, then flashed him a thumbs up.

“You should take Han here – this is really good!” you said.

“Maybe I will,” he mused before taking some of the pastry to try. “Everyone missed you at the party this weekend.”

“How crazy did it get?” you asked before taking a sip of your coffee.

Chris finished his bite and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Actually it wasn’t bad! We did offer a few drinks, but everyone knew to be respectful of the neighbors. Craziest thing that happened was Han had to kiss some girl because he lost at Suck and Blow.”

“Anyone he was interested in?” you asked.

Chris opened his mouth to reply, but was startled by someone tapping on the glass. You turned your head and smiled when you saw it was Felix, accompanied by his friend Minho. Both boys waved to you before entering the cafe and making their way to your table.

“Perfect timing!” Felix remarked as he wrapped his fingers around his messenger bag strap. “Minho was looking for you, Chris. Said he’s struggling with his Japanese homework.”

Minho nodded as he came up beside Felix and produced a test. “Sorry hyung, but I know this grade’s not good enough for my mom – I’m doing extra credit homework to make up for this. Can you help me now?”

Chris resisted the urge to sigh, silently wishing that the universe would just work in his favor for once. He plastered a small smile on his face and motioned for Minho to follow him to another area of the cafe. Felix mouthed a thank you to Chris, before asking if he could try the pastry.

“Ask Y/N – it’s hers really,” Chris said before guiding Minho to a quieter area.

Felix pointed to the plate and you told him to have some. He grinned as he sank in Christopher’s chair, putting his bag down on the ground. He reached out and broke off a piece, placing it in his mouth.

You pointed to the corner of his mouth, noticing he had some cream on the corner. He accepted a napkin from you and wiped it off.

---------------------

Han

Y/N!! You missed my party. :( Sent 16:32 PM

Y/N

Sorry Han! Maybe next time? Sent 16:36 PM

Han

How about game night tonight? You, me, Chaemunk, Felix, Chris, Binnie, and Minho? Sent 16:38 PM

“May I get you ladies anything to drink?” Han asked after you and Rosé arrived.

“Water,” you both replied.

“That’s it?” Han asked with a pout.

“No drunken Truth or Dare,” you warned him. “I came to play games, not get so wasted that I can’t remember making out with someone.”

“We’re not drinking either!” Felix called out as he leaned to the side, trying to see who joined. Minho mimicked his movement, holding up a soda can.

“Hey, I’m not either!” Chris protested as he showed his water bottle.

“It’s just Han who wants to,” Changbin remarked with an amused smile.

Han shook his head and insisted that he’d forgo alcohol tonight too. “I only wanted to make the offer in case.” He pulled out two water bottles and passed them to you and Rosé.

You opened yours and took a sip, while Rosé asked where the restroom was. Changbin rose from his seat and pointed out the directions to the bathroom. She thanked him before excusing herself.

Han cracked open a soda and took a long sip from it. He sighed, putting the can down on the counter. “So Y/N, your semester here’s almost over,” he noted.

Your shoulders slumped and you sighed, glumly recapping your water bottle. You had tried not to think about it, since it meant you would be going back to your university and leaving all of your wonderful new friends behind. Sure there was social media where you could keep in touch and you could always try to save money to visit them, but it wasn’t the same. All of your little spots to visit with friends, the sights you’d see on your walks to campus or days off, they would be very different once your semester ended.

“Yeah I guess it’s coming up really soon,” you said. “I was having a good time that I didn’t realize it was almost over.”

Felix looked over at you and Chris threw Han a look for dampening the mood. Han shrugged as he took another sip from his can. A ghost of a smirk appeared on his lips as he asked, “So, out of everyone you’ve met...who’s your favorite person?”

You blinked at the question and looked around at all of the people in the room. Changbin spoke up and added that you shouldn’t count him in the possible list of people.

“I’m an exchange student too,” he reminded you. “I think this is more for the local students. So to rephrase Han’s question: who is your favorite Australian friend here?”

You uncapped your water bottle and took a sip from it, trying to delay your answer. It didn’t seem fair to pick just one of them – all of the people you met were wonderful in their own way.

“Well technically I’m not from Australia and Han isn’t either,” Minho added with a thoughtful look. “So, is Chris-hyung, Felix, or Rosé-noona your favorite?” He took a sip from his soda can and smirked, looking at Felix, then Chris.

You slowly swallowed the water you were drinking, not daring to look at either of the guys named. Picking one of them wasn’t going to be fair to the other and honestly, both of them were great. You liked Chris who was easy to talk to and a good listener. Felix had a warm, friendly personality and you always had fun with him.

“Um can I pass on the question out of courtesy to everyone?” you asked in a small voice.

The guys looked at you in confusion, then Han began talking, with Minho adding over him that you had to pick one. Changbin rolled his eyes and shook his head at Minho for starting trouble. Chris sighed as he tried to get Han’s attention.

“HEY!” Felix yelled. This made Han and Minho stop talking and everyone turned their attention to him. His eyes met yours and he leaned forward in his seat slightly.

“Y/N, we can handle this,” he said.

Chris nodded as he stepped forward, putting his water down as he walked closer. He flattened his palms on the counter and tilted his head. “We’re all adults here – no one’s gonna get their feelings hurt,” he reassured you.

You closed the water bottle again and looked from Chris to Felix again. For once, you wished you had said no to Han tonight. Sure both of the guys might be okay with you picking one person, but you knew one of them would be hurt if you showed favoritism toward the other.

“So honestly Love, is it me?” Chris asked with a sly grin.

You blinked and Felix rose from his seat, making his way to the same counter where the elder boy stood. He propped his elbows on the counter and rested his chin cutely between his hands.

“Sorry Chris, but I think I’m her favorite – you know with all of the fun games and excitement I have to offer in my room,” Felix chimed in. “She does love her Mario games.”

“Guys look, I –”

You felt someone wrap their arms around you and you turned to see it was Rosé, squishing you in a cute side hug. She flashed you her cutest smile and you couldn’t help but smile in turn.

“Sorry guys, but it’s me!” Rosé sang.

#Stray Kids Bang Chan #Stray Kids Felix #BLACKPINK Rosé #BLACKPINK AU #Skdz AU #Stray Kids AU #Stray Kids imagine #BLACKPINK imagine #Park Chaeyoung #Bang Chan #Lee Felix #Felix Lee #yourkeeperoftherunners original #number 2775

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xehanortsreport · 5 years

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99 for that xigsem parenting riku and vanitas au......

as soon as this came into my askbox i was transfixed, SO HERE WE GO....i got a little carried away, whoops

“How could you forget your son’s birthday?”(owie)

Birthday morning. Vanitas struggled to keep his excitement down as he clambered out of his bed; Riku had already left the room, it seemed, and he couldn’t help but be glad that he had. This was Vanitas’s day, after all, and he didn’t need his too talented younger brother hogging up the moment from sunrise to sundown this time too. Ten...finally ten. Double digits. A whole decade. He hastily pulled on his oversized hoodie and jeans, ruffled his hair in place of a comb, and sped into the kitchen, wanting to look cool, calm, collected, just like a preteen should in his head.

He peeked around. Riku had probably already been dropped off to his special before school program, but the sight of Ansem, who usually joined for breakfast, was nowhere to be seen. His other father, Xigbar, was already up and ripping open a new package of sugar, squinting at a measuring cup on the counter with his good eye. The moment he caught sight of Vanitas edging around the corner, he gave a cheerful finger gun and clicked his tongue in greeting.

“Morning, little man. And more of a little man today than ever, right?”

Vanitas rubbed his nose to conceal his grin and slid over to the table, where a small plate of scrambled eggs was waiting for him.

“Morning, Appa. Where’s Dad? Did he already leave?”

“It’s his day off, remember? You already know he’s in the workshop.”

“Oh yeah...I kinda forgot it fell on my birthday this year.” Vanitas looked off to the side, and pouted. “But he’s still not here, so I guess it doesn’t make a difference. Wonder if he’d show up for Riku.”

“Please, the man’s a workaholic no matter what day it is. Anniversaries, birthdays, I dunno...lung transplant surgeries on his grandma? No matter the occasion, he’ll find a way to be busy.”

Xigbar’s rich black hair swayed back and forth as he busied himself whipping up pancake batter: Vanitas’s favorite breakfast, especially when loaded with chocolate chips. The hair and golden eyes: Vanitas had inherited both. Though the eyes also ran on Ansem’s side of the family, deep brown skin and broad nose were the more obvious signifiers of what he had inherited from his other father. Still, he felt closest to Xigbar, whose chaotic sense of humor and wickedly chill attitude (and cool stories about being the governor’s most trusted bodyguard) appealed more to a young boy than the stern, sometimes condescending cool of the respected scientist.

“Dad always looks like he likes Riku more, though. He’s always helping him with his homework and talking with his teacher and stuff.”

Smoke started rising from the pan, and Xigbar cursed under his breath, clearly trying, and failing, to censor himself around the kid.

“Your brother is talented in all the same ways your Pops was. He’s probably just trying to guide him around the same pitfalls he made as a kid,” he said, trying to scrape up the burnt pancake. “People like you and me, we gotta work a little harder, but the pain of being a ‘gifted’ kid is that it hurts more when you fall. I think he’s tryna protect that from happening to your brother.”

He let out a low, disappointed whistle at the burnt mess in his pan, snatched it up, and flung it into the nearby trash bin.

“You’re a genius too, though. The teachers are always talking about how I shouldn’t have any trouble with the material, ‘cuz my dads are some of the smartest people in the city.”

Xigbar let loose a throaty laugh, edging the new pancake side to side to make sure it wasn’t burning.

“Nah. Your Pops? Definitely a genius. No doubting that man’s mind works in ways the average human can’t comprehend. But me? No, I just learn fast.”

With a flick of the wrist, the new pancake sailed through the air and landed expertly into the pan on the other side, as if Xigbar had merely been playing at incompetence earlier. The burnt smell of the earlier pancake slowly gave way to a gentler, breadier scent, and Vanitas found himself melting in his chair, impatient to start shoving stack after stack into his mouth.

“At practice, teacher said Riku was a natural,” he muttered, nudging around eggs with his fork. “I wonder if I can learn so fast that he won’t be able to catch up…Hey!”

His father had bumped the plate out of Vanitas’s path with another plate, sending the first one dangerously close to the edge and catching him completely off guard. The stack of pancakes had been completed faster than he had thought, and each of them was a golden brown that made the first pancake’s failure look even more and more like a freak accident.

“Persistence’ll get you places natural talent couldn’t dream, kid. Think of that as your free Birthday Wisdom.”

“‘Birthday Wisdom’? That’s a thing?”

“It is now. And it’s free! Happy Birthday, isn’t life just great?”

“That better not be my gift.”

“As if,” Xigbar said, and began to slice open a melon, peeling and cutting it into floral shapes with ease. “I’m the cool dad, remember? Check by the TV before you catch the bus, I left you something there.”

Vanitas didn’t answer, but shoved the pancakes into his mouth to avoid showing the growing smile on his face. Xigbar snorted knowingly, and set down the fruit in front of him. Golden eye catching golden eye as Vanitas suddenly piped up.

“I want to switch to somethin’ else. Boxing, or...taekwondo or...maybe Dad could actually teach me some of his science or his bookmaking or something…”

“I know what you’re tryin’ to do here, Van,”

“I mean, at school, all the class already thinks I’m too girly, and that’s without the ballet...because havin’ two dads, and one of them is,”

“Continue with that line of thought and I’ll kick your butt along with the kids who said that crap in the first place,” Xigbar sighed, and plopped into a chair beside him, rubbing his temple.

“But you know what I mean! ...I’ll just...leave it to Riku. He’s prettier, too, so I guess I can’t even compete with him on that...hah.”

“Prettier?” With a frown Xigbar chewed on a piece of melon before continuing. “He’s not, number one, number two, this isn’t a competition. By all means, whoop the other kids’ behinds, but not your baby bro’s. You two should be teaming up to take the other losers down, not turning on each other.”

“You don’t think Dad isn’t constantly comparing us in his lab notes or whatever? Y’know…’subject V has a really big head and a small brain compared to the smaller and more compact subject R’.”

“Alright alright, you got his nerd talk down, I won’t deny that, but trust me, that’s not how he sees you kids.”

“You sure?”

“‘Course I’m sure, every mad scientist needs an assistant, and that’s me.” Xigbar winked as best he could with only one eye, and laughed. “The man is an absolute idiot when it comes to emotional intellect, but he does know well enough to keep the lab in the lab. Kinda.”

“Huh...well...I mean, you shouldn’t say that in front of your kid! Aren’t you supposed to be all, ‘Son, you can’t be mean to your father’ and stuff?”

“I told you, I’m the cool dad,” Xigbar said with a smirk, and sipped at his orange juice. “Anyway...if you’re sure about the switch, and you’re not just doing it because you think you can’t do ballet, I guess I can make it happen. Taekwondo sounds good. The only condition is that you use your newfound powers to try and see if you can take me on in combat later.”

“No problem. You’ll go down easy, old man.”

“We’ll see about that,” Xigbar mused, and slid a slice of cake, hidden somewhere Vanitas hadn’t noticed, in front of him while the kid let out a huff of surprise. “I’m pretty tricky.”

That night, as the brothers sat across from each other in separate beds, Vanitas’s hands curled angrily above his knees, balling his sheets into wrinkled messes. Riku was already nose deep in some beginner’s chapter book, devouring stories of pirates and treasures, risky adventures and fantastic worlds...ideas Vanitas found sickening as he grew older. At some point, he couldn’t even see himself playing hero, couldn’t trick himself into believing the magic fairy dust sprinkled on the page anymore. Riku’s dreams soared higher and higher.

Vanitas believed Riku was the only one who could reach them.

“Hey,” Vanitas said, voice a cacophony against the now shattered silence. “What if Dad’s evil?”

Riku paused, eyes flickering from his page to Vanitas and back again. Then, slowly, he folded the book shut, thumb still marking the page, and laughed. Vanitas’s lips pulled into a disappointed sneer.

“What’s so funny? You don’t think he is?”

“Of course he isn’t,” said Riku, brimming with confidence. “I mean, he can be cranky and stuff, but that isn’t the same thing as being evil.”

“But what about that workshop, huh?” Vanitas pressed forward, physically and verbally, voice dropping dangerously. “He locks himself in there all day, and always with the lights off. He’s using candles! Who still uses candles?”

“That’s evil?”

“‘Course it is.” Vanitas huffed, and his golden eyes burned with challenge. Cry, idiot, he thought to himself. Be weak already. Be scared. “Maybe the reason he spends all his time with you is because he wants to size you up and feed you to the dog and make a clone. I bet he doesn’t really love you at all!”

The last word was a shout. Riku’s breath hitched, body locked tight, and Vanitas thought, at last, all those barbs and jabs had landed a significant blow.

But when he locked eyes with Riku, he felt his stomach clench. Riku shone with preternatural wisdom, beautiful, ocean blue, almond shaped eyes narrowing knowingly, thin smile shaky but self assured, a feeling of challenge reverberating with nothing more than a cocky “heh”. Silver locks...Ansem’s hair...shook around his shoulders.

“Yeah, well...maybe Dad’s gonna replace you, then, too.”

Vanitas’s jaw immediately clamped shut, wired by the jolted, struck nerves. Riku, though intelligent, was still seven, and remained ignorant of the bleeding gash he had struck deep into Vanitas’s heart.

“It’s almost midnight...hey, did he give you a present, yet?”

Whatever Riku was saying was immediately lost in the trample of Vanitas’s feet as he threw himself off the bed and ran down the hallway, hoping desperately that the tears spilling down his face had been lost in the dark. They slowed eventually, after what felt like hours, and his legs began to feel like they were pulling him through mud. Almost midnight...almost midnight, and that man was still cooped up in his workshop. Tears turned caustic as they streamed, teeth grinding in a way that he was sure would earn some sort of lecture. Good. Let him be lectured. That would be enough to show Dad still cared about some part of him.

He paused in front of the open door leading into the workshop, feet stopping just short of the threshold. Contained candlelight was all that lit the room, deep oranges and browns driving back the encroaching darkness. Hunched over beyond the frame, leaning over an ancient looking wooden desk, was that man. Silver hair fell elegantly about broad shoulders in shimmering sheets...almost Elven, magical...a stark contrast to the furious flurry of his arms and hands and fingers working mechanically, this way and that, grabbing oddly shaped knives and tools that Vanitas couldn’t have made up even in a particularly vivid daydreaming session. His stomach swam, and for a moment, he was prepared to believe his own lies...what if his father really was just some mad scientist, who would carve him up to the bone and throw the scraps to the dog?

“Dad?” His voice was weak, faltered the moment it left his throat. All it did was push out more tears, mourning how pathetic he sounded.

He thought he saw Ansem’s movements pause, but they quickly resumed his work. Anger boiled over in his stomach as he threw out his voice more wildly, it cracking in his emotion.

“Dad!” Vanitas stomped his foot simultaneously, and snot dribbled down his face. “Arentcha forgetting something!? ‘Happy Birthday, Van’! ‘Happy Birthday’! How could you forget your own son’s birthday?! I bet you wouldn’t forget Riku’s! Riku...Riku’s your…”

His voice fell out completely, head hanging, unable to look up as the wooden chair creaked and the solid footsteps of his father quietly approached. Hiccups tumbled out of his mouth, and he couldn’t help how his shoulders trembled even as a strong hand cupped around them.

“Vanitas.”

How strong and confident and unwavering that voice seemed; how kittenish Vanitas’s own sobbing seemed compared to that deep, lionlike roar.

The tears barely left enough room in his eyes for him to notice the gilded corner of a leather notebook, pushed gently under his nose, offered.

“I’d never forget my proud, eldest child.”

Vanitas’s breath seemed to vanish. His head swam with confusion as he hurriedly swiped away the tears clouding his vision, growing cold on his cheeks, and shakily grasped the book. A few second for his eyes to refocus, and it soon became clear what he was holding: a hand bound journal. Elegant carvings decorated its cover, its face stamped with some sort of symbol Vanitas had never seen before.

“This is what is called a ‘sigil’. This one was made with your name,” said Ansem with a sigh that suggested he too had been holding back some worry. Worry? “It is imbued with your will, your spirit...and my guidance.”

Vanitas thumbed through the journal; mostly blank pages greeted him, though there was a hand written appendix in the back detailing simple charms and spells for luck. The occult and science seemed to be at odds to each other, but his father had a vested interest in both, one that he had apparently noticed Vanitas picking up. And now...he had made this, a journal..a grimoire? Welcoming Vanitas further into that world, by his side.

Was that why it had taken so long? Was he waiting until he had finished the gift?

“Happy Birthday, Vanitas.” Ansem’s eyes tilted downwards, and it seemed he was hiding some emotion from his son. “For ever letting you think I did not care...I am sorry.”

“Dad…,” Vanitas’s lips couldn’t seem to focus on becoming a smile or a frown, and wobbly flopped between both. He threw his arms around Ansem, pressing his face into his torso, and let out an ugly, primal shout. “Say it sooner, next time, jerk…!”

“Noted,” Ansem replied primly. “I heard from your Appa that you wanted to give up ballet. Is this also because of how you see Riku? How you think I see him?”

Vanitas flushed, heart pounding, and he was grateful his face was hidden.

“Mm….mmhm…”

“I went ahead and booked you a private tutor earlier, after I heard. You’re skilled, Vanitas, and I don’t want to see your passion fall away. You’re both valuable to me, equally. Perhaps it’s best to let you boys start being separate more often…” Ansem mused as Vanitas backed away, face and tears brimming with surprise.

“Really?”

“Unless you still wanted to do taekwondo. I heard your Appa is quite excited about the possibility of you flipping the children in your classroom around,” he said, chuckling. “I’ll admit, if they’re saying the things I think they are, I’m inclined to agree.”

“Sweet! Uh...wait,” He paused, clutching the journal to his chest and awkwardly scratching his hair. “Can I do both?”

“My, a multidisciplinary. You truly are my son.”

“...Van?”

A voice lilt up from the doorway. Vanitas, eyes barely losing their redness, turned, and immediately he shrank back towards Ansem, who caught him in a ready arm. Riku, eyes wide, hand lifted up nervously to his chin, stood in the threshold.

“I uh...I followed you here…um.” The smaller boy cleared his throat and closed his eyes, and when he spoke up, it was with a courage that steadied the tinniness of his small voice. “I’m sorry, for hurting your feelings. I didn’t know what I said was bad, I just wanted to tease you back. And, um…”

Riku inched forward, traded a glance with Ansem, who nodded down at Vanitas, and wrapped his arms around his older brother, melting into the embrace. Vanitas stood stock still, surprised but unwilling to move, as if afraid to dismiss the warmth of the moment altogether.

“You’re smart, and talented, and a really cool brother,” Riku said, muffled by Vanitas’s chest. “Love you.”

Vanitas finally managed to break his hesitation and placed a hand on Riku’s hair, gently ruffling it.

“I guess you’re not bad yourself.”

“Van.”

“...Love you too.”

#fic #Kingdom Hearts #AnsXig #Vanitas KH #Riku KH #i should put this on AO3 honestly i spent way too much time on this #triceraclops

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