#but having the family here while their school's on break means welcoming a certain amount of chaos into our lives | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wh6res · 3 years ago

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UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG

psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast

life could’ve been simple;

you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.

what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic.

"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane."

she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears.

"bitch," you mutter under your breath.

you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.

moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.

"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.

you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?

"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again.

"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.

"really? let me see..."

he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.

"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?"

ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway.

"doyoung! help me carry these!"

someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"

"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"

"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"

you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."

the universe truly hates you.

your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."

"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"

he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?"

you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."

"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"

"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."

hmm… how sweet of him.

it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."

"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."

"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"

you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath.

"is he cute?"

you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement.

"you have no idea."

for his first act;

he gains your trust.

fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.

she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year.

the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her.

oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"

in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.

"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.

the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."

"how'd you meet?"

and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living.

"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"

"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."

your attorney doesn't come to your aid.

"perjury isn't my thing."

the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."

"and you have evidence to support this claim?"

without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."

the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.

the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?

"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.

the damage is done.

at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.

but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.

that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.

you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way.

"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.

"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.

something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.

"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"

your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.

one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.

his eyebrow raises in amusement.

well, not that you have a choice, anyway.

it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears.

"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."

you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"

"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"

"okay... thank you, doyoung."

"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."

in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend.

you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"

"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"

"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."

what?

"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"

that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.

he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word.

you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.

the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!

when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel.

"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode.

"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.

"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."

"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information.

a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?

"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."

"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.

you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."

but the conversation hadn't always been about academics.

sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve.

and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too.

kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm —last day of midterms! & its all majors today —good luck —remember what i taught u —lets get ice cream after u cant say no

you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.

"why are your notes like that?"

you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.

"what do you mean?"

"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?"

what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind.

just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head.

hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.

"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.

"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"

"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."

he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"

how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.

"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.

he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.

it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?

you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.

he calls out your name.

your eyes snap open.

"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest.

"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."

"i caught you in the act. stop lying."

like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.

"you're drunk!" he scolds.

“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."

"but —"

"bye!"

you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys.

but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.

everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.

you should have taken the alleyways.

for his second act;

he alters your reality.

when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?

"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"

a person clears their throat.

"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"

pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."

you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history."

six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.

"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"

"baby, listen to me —"

"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"

"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."

that can't be possible.

"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.

doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."

you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.

"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"

gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?

you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"

he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"

"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."

"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"

"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"

"am i a charity case to you?"

oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.

"what are you saying —"

"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"

he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said.

"do you really want to know why?"

you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart.

"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"

you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss.

the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone.

when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"

still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."

days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment.

"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."

"oh, can you get take out?"

doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"

it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day.

"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"

"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."

"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"

"i'm going to uni, not you."

maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.

"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"

too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor.

"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."

his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."

"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."

he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.

living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down.

but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."

"but…"

he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."

"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."

he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud.

"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand.

"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."

for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't…

right?

you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper.

every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused.

the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.

the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going.

"bathroom," you lied.

you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.

grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.

you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back.

bang! bang! bang!

you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.

"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.

you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"

your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video.

no, no, no, no — please!

you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers.

"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"

you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.

doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."

but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.

for his third and final act;

he triumphs.

his deprivation began in minuscule ripples.

it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration.

but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.

"why does my door need a lock outside again?"

he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.

he can't have you doubting him, can he?

"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"

doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.

"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."

he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.

doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.

"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."

it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin.

eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.

it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day.

turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.

doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.

until he received a text that made his blood run cold.

ty, 11:34 am —im done.

meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.

the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?

"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"

taeyong?

slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.

the banging on the door progresses.

“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”

you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.

all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder.

taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”

“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?

“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp.

“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time.

“do you think he actually loves you?”

“he does! stop saying bullshit!”

“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”

taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.

“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.

tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”

you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”

with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”

you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”

you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside.

“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”

he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home.

in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off.

taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”

“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.

“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”

“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”

“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”

“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung.

but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”

a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.

but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him.

but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"

you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with.

"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"

the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it... but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.

"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"

the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.

meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.

"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."

you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you.

"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"

taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —

"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"

you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob.

"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."

you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.

doyoung killed him. you lost.

the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face.

"now... how about that lunch, baby?"

✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3

#hmu if i missed a warning #yandere doyoung #yandere kpop #yandere nct #yandere nct 127 #tw swearing #tw manipulation #tw violence #tw knife

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anxiousnerdwritings · 3 years ago

Text

Highs and Lows

Tw: mentions of deaths, drug usage/drug abuse, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, and yandere themes

It had been a while since you felt that sense of belonging, that familial security. After what had happened to your family the Zarick’s had been kind enough to open themselves and their home up to you. They made you feel like family and not some charity case. They were all so loving and inviting, you couldn’t believe just how lucky you’d gotten.

That was until tragedy struck once again. Joey had died in a freak accident on the way home from school.

You weren’t the same after what happened to Joey and no one should have expected you to be, especially since you had witnessed the accident first hand. You were traumatized and scarred. All you saw when you closed your eyes was the same horrific scene repeating and it wouldn’t stop.

When you thought things couldn’t get worse Wiliam died shortly after finding out about Joey. You could still remember his reaction, how he ran out of the house with some kind of intention in mind, leaving you and Denise in pieces. You never would be able to know what he had planned when he abruptly left that night.

If only you knew it would be the last time you saw him, maybe you could have tried harder to stop him.

After that Blue Valley didn’t seem like home anymore. Denise just wanted to get away from anything and everything that reminded her of what she and you both lost. You were more than willing to leave when she brought up moving. You wanted to get away just as much as her. Everywhere you looked you were haunted by the memories of two loving people who were taken away far too early. It was just you and Denise now and you both wanted nothing more than to leave your ghosts behind.

Everything was set and ready to go. Denise even seemed more rushed than before to leave Blue Valley behind. The two of you were in the car and everything seemed normal. The radio was playing but it was only to fill the silence. Neither of you knew what to say, a part of you felt guilty for leaving yours and the Zarick’s home. It felt like you were abandoning Joey and William but that warmth from before just wasn’t there anymore.

Everything seemed so cold and dark, like all the light had been sucked out. This place was only a reminder of sadness and hurt. Even the good times couldn’t outweigh the burden in your hearts.

It was quiet for a while longer before Denise spoke up, “This is for the best, (Y/n). There was nothing left in Blue Valley. Not anymore. It’s just us now.” She was trying to keep her voice from breaking and you were trying to keep your tears at bay, but you knew she was right.

You were all she had now and she was all you had.

And that was the last thing on your mind before a crashing noise hit your ears. Both you and Denise were sent rolling.

When you open your eyes again, you were waking up in the hospital back in Blue Valley. You were obviously hurt, body aching from the ordeal it had been through. It’s only when you try to sit up that you realize you aren’t alone.

A firm, yet gentle, hand pushes you to lay back down. Looking up, you’re greeted by a man you’ve never met before. You’re too caught up in your staring and confusion to realize he’s speaking, “You shouldn’t try and strain yourself. Not after the ordeal you’ve been put through.”

Once you’re laying back comfortably again, the man fixes his suit and heads back to a chair off in the corner, you assume he had been occupying it before you awoke.

It’s unsettling to say the least and all the more ominous, the way he stares at you that is. His gaze is intense and it scares you. It’s like he’s trying to see everything that you are and everything you’ve ever been. The coldness of the room doesn’t help ease your anxiety. If anything it adds to it, making you feel all the more vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t properly introduced myself. I am Jordan Mahkent, I am- well, I was a friend of William’s.” Oh, so he was familiar with your past adoptive father? That made you feel a little more at ease.

“Oh, um...okay. By chance do you know where Denise is? I would really like to see her.” For some reason it feels like the room’s gotten colder. It doesn’t help that you can’t quite read the expression on Jordan’s face. That is until it turns into one of sympathy.

“I’m sorry, Y/n, but Denise didn’t make it.” You could feel all the air leave your sore lungs. What the hell was he talking about? Denise didn’t make it? But she had been right next to you the last you remember.

Throat dry you try to speak again, “What so you mean? She was there, I was with her and she was fine!” You’re choked up, tears streaming down your face. You don’t even notice that Jordan is now sitting next to you, wiping your tears away with a hand considerably colder than normal. He’s trying to be comforting but all you can focus on are his words echoing in your head.

“I’ve got you, Y/n. I’m here for you now.”

////

There wasn’t a single day that passed without Jordan visiting you. You had to stay awhile longer in the hospital to recover, especially given you had woken up from a coma due to the crash. You didn’t mind though, you didn’t feel right being back in Blue Valley and you were still processing how you lost everything in a matter of a few days.

But Jordan was nice. He was patient but most importantly he was there for you. He seemed kind enough. He would even tell you stories about when he and William were close. It was comforting hearing about William, especially in his youth but it still hurt to hear his name knowing full well he wouldn’t be coming back.

The day of you getting discharged, Jordan had offered that you stay with him and his family. Thai scenario felt oddly familiar. Similar to how you’d been brought into the Zarick family. You couldn’t deny that it was a kind gesture and it’s not like you had anywhere else to go.

His family was just as welcoming as the Zarick’s had been. You kept trying to remind yourself that these people weren’t your past family but the memories and comparisons just wouldn’t leave you alone. You couldn’t quite put your finger on whether it was healthy for you to think this way or not.

It hurt, that much was for certain. It didn’t help that you felt like you were not only replacing your old family but that you were also using these nice, generous people to fill a void in you from everything that you’d lost. It didn’t feel right at all to you and the Mahkent’s definitely didn’t deserve it either. They were just trying to do a good thing after all.

You tried giving what you could to this new family but it was hard. You were obviously depressed and still dealing with what happened to the Zarick’s. You just wanted your family back. You just wanted your Joey, your William and your Denise again. You just wanted to be home with them, where you were happy and content. The only thing that seemed to make you feel better were the pain killers the doctor had prescribed and they didn’t make you feel anything. You’d guess that the numbness was better than the hurt in the long run. Not to mention it helped keep away the horrible images in your head of Joey’s death, even if only for awhile.

And sometimes, if you were lucky, you could see William, Denise, and Joey. It was as if they were right there with you, like the four of you were together again. It was nice to say the least. It gave what you needed, even if it was just a little taste of it.

Fortunately for you, your injuries and trauma were severe enough that you were given a prescription of painkillers to refill as long as you needed them. You could feel numb and be with your family again whenever you needed to, as long as you had that prescription.

As hard as you tried to keep this away from anyone else, especially the Mahkents, you weren’t very successful. Jordan knew something wasn’t quite right. He was understanding that you would need time to adapt and get comfortable with them but he thought you would surely grow to love and be part of his family by now. Don’t get him wrong, Jordan was seeing you trying to be involved but it wasn’t enough. You were still holding back.

It wasn’t until Cameron came to him, worried about you that he started to see a different change in you. You seemed spacey and not really in the moment but that was understandable given your medication. It was some pretty strong stuff after all. But Jordan took note to ask about it at your next checkup. Thankfully you had to have mandatory checkups and your most recent one was coming up.

But Jordan was going to have a talk with Henry, not only for some information on this specific medication but also to have Henry tell him just what was going on in that head of yours.

Your check up went well. You still need your medication but the dosage as been dropped. Once your assigned doctor heard that you were acting just a little too out of it they thought it was about time to decrease your medicine, even though the before amount shouldn’t have affected you like that. After that was said and done, Jordan left you at the vending machine and headed off to Henry.

It didn’t take him long to find Henry nor did it take Henry long to read your thoughts. But once Jordan heard what was going through your head, he couldn’t quite pinpoint how or what he was feeling exactly. One thing was for certain though, he was going to be monitoring your medicine intake from now on.

You knew you had a problem. You were conscious of that and you had tried to stop but you couldn’t bring yourself to. You wanted the hurt to stop, you just wanted to stop feeling altogether. And that’s just what you got when you took a few extra pills then prescribed. You guess you should have been more mindful. That’s why when Jordan started handing out your medication a part of you was relieved. Maybe things could get better. Maybe you could get better. But then that all too familiar itch was back and you were in need.

But Jordan was determined to not to let you destroy yourself. He didn’t care what you lost at this point. You had something new and alive right in front of you. You had a family right in front of you. But you weren’t seeing them. You weren’t seeing him. You weren’t seeing anything anymore.

It’s all getting to be too much. Everything is getting to be too much.

You’re starting to feel too much. You’re starting to feel everything.

Everything is so overwhelming and erratic.

Your emotions are so overwhelming and erratic. What do you do? What is there to do?

Before you know it, your standing at the very bridge where Joey’s accident happened. You’re only standing, staring off, not a single thought passing through. Then you’re somehow over the railing, standing on the edge of one of the steel beams holding the bride up. It’s only now that a thought comes to mind, one single word: Jump.

But you don’t really want to, do you?

You would get to be with your family again.

But then you would be leaving behind another family.

You would finally not have to feel anything anymore.

But you would be hurting others in the process.

You could be happy again.

But would you really?

Jump.

JUMP!!!

You’re crying now. You can feel the tears, you can taste them from the corner of your mouth. You can hear something. You can hear someone calling out to you. Turning your head, you see Jordan running over towards you. He’s panicked but his voice is calm.

“Y/n? What are you doing over there??? Come here. Come on, I got you.” He’s holding his arms out for you. He’s here for you. That’s when it hits you, the realization of what you were just about to do. And you’re scared, reaching out to him. Jordan gets close enough to grab hold of you, pulling you over the railing like nothing.

He’s clutching you close, so close it hurts. But it’s a good hurt. It means you’re there with him, that he has you safe in his arms. It doesn’t even matter how cold he is anymore.

You’re sobbing now, clutching at him just as feverishly. “I’m sorry!! I’m so sorry!! I didn’t mean it! I don’t want to die!!!”

He tries to console you, still holding you so tightly. His voice is calm, soothing as he says, “You’re okay, you’re safe now. Everything’s going to be okay, Y/n. I promise.”

No, you don’t want to die. Of course you want to see William, Denise and Joey again. You want nothing more than to finally be reunited with them once more but you just can’t.

Not yet. Not now.

And they can wait. The’ll wait for as long as they have to. They’ll always be waiting for you.

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mateovac · 2 years ago

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howdy y’all, name’s chai, and i’m suupper excited to be here! i’ve brought u my bb, mateo, matty if he likes ur muse enough, and havoc in the ring ( he’s a professional fighter ). under the cut i have some facts and bg on him, as well as some wanted plots. if u wanna plot, pls leave me a like and i’ll come annoy u in ur inbox. love y’all already !!

* ── ( emilio sakraya , twenty four , cis male , he/him ) welcome to hilton hills , mateo “havoc” kovac ! as a well - known UFC fighter , we can’t believe you traveled all the way from rio de janeiro, brazil in order to spend a few months here . you’ve made quite the name for yourself in the tabloids as being - nonchalant and - stubborn , but all we have seen is how + ambitious and + dependable you are since you arrived a few days ago . if we were to compare you to anything , it would be the crackle of the wood as the flame dies out, the silent buzz in your ears amidst a stadium of deafening cheers, and the sound created by the union of turbulent waves and cliff side stone on a stormy night . make sure to unpack in time to make it to the bonfire tonight ! i hear they are going to play loyalty by kendrick lamar just for you ! [ chai , 21+ , they/them , est ]

name: mateo kovac nicknames: matt, matty gender: cis man pronouns: he/him age: 24 occupation: UFC fighter height: 185 cm eye color: hazel hair color: dark brown

tidbits

mateo is the second oldest of five siblings ( older sister, two younger brothers, and youngest is a sister as well — his parents really wanted another daughter ).

didn’t start off rich, but they found luck in the restaurant business and now they own at least 10 different restaurants across the country.

grew up in the hilton’s but moved to brazil around 19 to start his training. he’s been back and forth ever since then.

got into fighting pretty much right out of high school and didn’t bother with college. nickname is “havoc” bc his coaches thought it was funny that it was similar to his last name kovac, and bc once he sees an opening, he creates havoc with his swings.

currently in the lightweight division, with 6 fights under his belt, 4 wins and 2 losses, though last three have consecutively been wins.

doesn’t come off as very personable during interviews, and that’s because he’s not. he’s in the UFC for the love of fighting, not for the fame of it.

a cat daddy. has three cats, two rescues and one he took from his friend. it’s not odd for him to be spotted with a stray cat on his heels; he seems to attract them for whatever reason.

personality wise, he can come off as cold and aloof at most times, especially if he doesn’t like you ( he’s not one to hide his dislike ). with his friends, however, he can flip a switch almost completely and become a different person.

not really a party animal. tends to be the old man of the group, going home early and getting in his hours of sleep so he can wake up early and work out in the morning,

an excellent cook. tends to happen when you live alone and you need to shovel in a certain amount of calories. at one point, it becomes tiring eating just plain chicken for protein all the time.

wanted plots

the bad influence. mateo lives a very healthy life-style, due to his job. he has to keep his body in the best shape, so that means barely any drinking, absolutely no drugs, and no late nights out because of his strict schedule. well, he did come back to visit for a little vacation, and this friend did always have a way with their words. he finds himself being dragged out to places he doesn’t ever frequent against his better judgement.

childhood friend. someone he grew up with and knows him better than he knows himself. someone his siblings consider as another addition to the family.

the ex. also happens to be his first love. their rls lasted a while, with him completely head over heels for her, before he finds out that he’s been cheated on, and he breaks it off with her. however, that never stopped her from calling him on her nights out drinking, and it always ended with him picking her up from the club. it’s been a while, but he can’t seem to shake the hold she has over him, though he knows he won’t ever call her his again.

the love interest. okay so i would kinda love for his love interest to be the best friend of his ex? it would be a slow burn type of situation, with discreet glances and secret touches here and there. there’s this immense tension but they don’t ever cross it ( they will down the line tho hehe ) bc they know that it’s wrong. would be slow burn type shi bc im a slvt for that stuff skdjfnsdf

maybe someone he likes to spar with for fun. he needs his exercise on vacation still.

#hilton.intro #mb i add onto it later #this is all my brain can manage rn #come love me down <3

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ijustwant2write · 4 years ago

Text

Brought Together-George Weasley x Reader

(GIF credit to @tanrininsonteki)

(I’ve written loads about Fred, George needed some love too!)

Summary: Who ever gets over the death of their brother? The death of their son? A friend? (Y/N) and the twins were always together, as if joined at the hip (or hips rather). But once the trio became a duo, one person had to become stronger than the other, pushing down their emotions and feelings to help the person they loved; because when things are put in perspective, it’s so obvious who their soulmate should be.

Characters: George Weasley x Reader, Weasley family x Reader (platonic), mentions of Fred Weasley

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Lots and lots of fluff, death, mourning, suppressed feelings/emotions

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My body was numb. Whether it was from exhaustion, shock, trauma, fear or the wounds scattered across my body, it didn’t matter to me, I couldn’t bring myself to move. With my knees hunched up to my chest, my hand tightly gripped onto my wand, showing how much I was shaking. A shadow cast over me, but I didn’t move my head. In my peripheral vision, I saw someone sit next to me, gently taking my wand away before I snapped it in half.

“You haven’t moved. It’s over now (Y/N).”

George saddled up to me, slowly put an arm around my shoulders. I leaned into him, letting him rest his chin on top of my head. My hand grabbed his free one, guiding it to wrap it around my waist, pulling him close for a hug. It felt relieving to have human contact, to feel someone else’s heartbeat, knowing that they were alive here with me. There was too much blood, too much crying, too many friends lying dead or unconscious on the stone floor. Although fear had been pulsing through my body throughout the entire time we were fighting, my mind wouldn’t accept the concept of anyone dying; yet here I sat, having watch the life drained away from one of my best friends.

“George?” I suddenly gasped, pulling away from him.

His eyes widened at my movement.“What?”

“You’re here, aren’t you? George, please don’t tell me I’m imagining you?!” my voice raised as I panicked, and George tried to shush me. I was disrupting the first sign of peace.

“Yes, yes, (Y/N) I’m here. I’m real,” tears started rolling down his cheeks, but he attempted a smile,“I’m not leaving you. I won’t ever leave you.”

I groaned as I picked up another box, feeling the pain in my back. At ‘Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’, we were re-stocking for the beginning of the Christmas season, changing around the shop to give it a fresh look. George was rolling up his sleeves, stepping back from the display he created. I approached him, standing with my arms crossed as I admired his work.

“I like it.” I simply said.

“Just like?” George nudged me with his elbow.

I smiled, rolling my eyes.“You know what I meant.”

“Come on, I’ll help you with the last boxes.”

“You don’t have to George. Have a break.”

He walked past me.“Nonsense. We’ve got places to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Drinks after work of course. Seeing as it’s just us today, I thought we could head to the Three Broomsticks, like we used to.”

I blushed, happy that he turned away from me to not see it. Following after him, I tried not to stare too much as he decided how we should set out the certain product. When he was engulfed in his work, something that he was so passionate about, it was like I was seeing the old George, the cheeky chap from school (not that he wasn’t cheeky anymore). These small moments were captured in my memories, pushing back the old, terrible ones. He deserved to be happy, especially when all he wanted to do was make other people laugh with the jokes and pranks they sold.

We managed to finish the new displays within the next hour, meaning it was time for us to relax with a good drink. It wasn’t going to be a night of getting drunk, just two...friends enjoying each other’s company. Wrapping up warm, George locked up, holding out his arm to me as we hurried to the pub, wanting to be out of the cold as soon as possible. Once at the Three Broomsticks, we were easily able to find a table, being served instantly as it wasn’t busy, only a few locals filled the space.

“Actually,” George started after setting his drink down,“I’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

There was that blush again. It seemed that words didn’t want to form.“Hm?”

“Well, obviously you’re always welcome round mine. But I was wondering if you wanted to come over for Christmas? Not the actual day cause I know you’ll be with your family, but just before-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

He chuckled.“That didn’t take much persuasion, did it?”

“I love your family. You didn’t even need to ask. But you sounded nervous.”

“Did I?”

I nodded, taking a sip of my drink.

“W-well, I...I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he looked everywhere except in my direction.“You ever seen me nervous?”

I giggled.“You don’t remember asking me to the Yule Ball-”

He waved his hands dismissively, which only made me laugh harder.“We said to never speak of that again, remember?”

I shrugged, a grin still on my face.“I still think it was more cute than nervous.”

Now it was his turn to tease me.“You think I’m cute?”

“Thought, I thought the whole idea was cute. But you can’t deny that it wasn’t a good night.”

“No, that was fun.” we were both in thought.“You looked beautiful in that dress.”

I waited for a snarky remark, but nothing came.“But?”

“What do you mean, ‘but’?”

“Oh, usually you just...never mind.”

“Anyway,” George cleared his throat,“you know mum wouldn’t take no for an answer, so you’ll have to pack a bag to stay a few nights.”

I laughed.“I would expect nothing less. Gosh, what to get all you Weasley’s for Christmas?”

“Don’t be daft. You don’t need to get everyone presents.”

“Of course I do!”

“Tell you what, why don’t we join up for presents? Buy them together.”

“You know what George, that’s probably the best idea you’ve had for a while.” I smirked.

He scoffed a laugh.“Right, I know I offered to buy the drinks, but that stops now!”

We had a few weeks before my time at the Weasley’s, meaning we were able to think and buy everyone’s presents. During lunch breaks or on days off, we would scour the shops, coming out of them with bags and bags hanging off our arms. I was always excited to see my second family, and Christmas was a fun, special time of year for everyone. The night before we were set to visit them, I stayed with George as we had to set off early the next morning. It was lovely when we stayed with each other.

"I know you only clean this place up when I come round, just admit it!" I giggled as we laid in bed facing the other, discarded chocolate wrappings scattered between us.

George laughed with me, rolling onto his back, looking up at the ceiling. As we calmed down, I bundled up into a tight ball, feeling a slight chill, which George noticed. He said nothing as he leaned his upper body off of the bed, grabbing a blanket from who knows where before wrapping it around me. My gaze remained on him as he tucked me in, enjoying the small amount of attention. Feeling hands on me made butterflies emerge in my stomach, and the caring side to him was the sweetest thing I had ever seen.

"I will admit, I did buy that blanket just for you. You complained about being cold enough to drive me mad." he smirked.

I clutched onto the soft fabric."Well, if you're going to speak to me like that, then I guess I'll just leave."

He tucked his arms beneath his head, closing his eyes slowly."Go on then. See you later."

When neither of us moved, we tried to contain our laughter, both failing miserably as our cackles rang out in his bedroom. It was like our sleepovers we had when we were much younger, they stopped as we...changed at a certain age.

“Are you sure everyone will like their presents?" I wondered.

He sighed lightly."We've been over this. You could pick up a weed from our own garden and they would fawn over it. It's not the gift they want, it's you."

My mouth open, prepared to protest against him as he teased me again, but I was stuck for words."George...that's a lovely thing to say."

His head lolled to face me, his face scrunching up in disgust."I take it back."

"No!" I quickly said."You can't pretend you didn't say that!"

"Say what?" he teased.

"George!"

Carrying everyone’s presents in our arms, George and I prepared ourselves for the onslaught of hugs and kisses we would be attacked with before we could even set down any of the presents or our bags. We were still a few steps away from the door when it was fiercely pulled open, Molly squealing and throwing her arms up in joy.

“Oh, you’re here! Arthur, they’re here!” she was beaming.

She hastily took the presents from George’s arms, impatiently ushering him inside as Arthur (who was a bit more reserved) took my presents, before I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as a greeting. Once all of our belongings were set down, proper hugs were given, just as bone crushing as they usually were.

“Oh, it’s so lovely to have you over dear.” Molly gushed.

“Mum, she was here a month ago.” George said.

“Well, it wouldn’t matter if it was just a day, I would miss her the same amount.”

I smiled at her.“Thank you Molly. See George, maybe you should be as kind as your mum.”

“I see you everyday, that’s almost too much for me.”

“Well, Ginny and Harry should be arriving tonight, Ron is already here, I think Hermione is supposed to be coming tonight too, but I’m not sure when, Bill and Fleur-”

Molly continued explaining the plan for the next couple of days, but I was distracted by George talking to his dad. Their voices were hushed, they kept side glancing at us as they spoke, before a shy smile emerged on George’s face. I somehow went back to Molly’s explanation, pretending that I had heard everything she said. Politely nodding, I was relieved that she started asking me about myself, changing the topic of conversation, even though my mind was occupied with someone else.

Everyone had arrived as the evening came, squeezing into the house and around the long table. As we sat down to eat, I noticed an empty chair besides George, realising who should have been there. My breath got caught in my throat at the sight, not hearing George call my name until he placed his hand on top of mine.

“You OK?” he whispered.

“Um...” my head slowly turned to face him.“Yeah, sorry. I’m fine.”

“It’s strange, isn’t it? What I mean is, it’s weird to think he’s...he’s not here.”

I squeezed his hand, but before I could say anything, Arthur stood, preparing to make a speech. Keeping my hand in George’s, I listened just like everyone else, trying to push away the flashes of Fred filling my mind.

“Well, I know it’s a bit early to be celebrating Christmas, but we know that you all have your own plans for this year, now that you’re grown up. But it is important to ensure that we get together, especially during this season about love, giving gifts, drinking, eating, and spending time with family and friends, because...because you never know what the future holds. And I think...no, I know that the last year has taught us all that.”

People were either getting teary eyes, already crying, or had a solemn look on their faces. Glances towards the empty seat were common. I didn’t wince as George’s grip tightened, strongly pinching my skin. Keeping my head down, I suppressed any tears, taking in a deep breath as Arthur managed to carry on.

“I just want you all to know, that I love you, your mother and I love you. And for those extended family, (Y/N), Harry, Hermione, Fleur, Audrey, we love you just as much. You’re our family too. We need to make every moment count, make every moment special. So, with that being said, let’s have some fun tonight!”

We raised our glasses, clinking them all together before drinking. I took a big gulp, and then another as the chatter built up again. Once we were done with food and the conversations afterwards, we were going to start playing games, lifting up the atmosphere in the room. Before it started, I excused myself, not that anyone took much notice. Scurrying upstairs, I tried to slow down my breathing as I shut myself in my designated room, covering my mouth to silence my cries. I collapsed back onto the bed, head in my hands as I felt tears try to stream down my face. My shoulders shook as I forced myself to make no noise. The door opened, causing me to flinch back, even though it was George.

“(Y/N)? Why are you crying?” he panicked, immediately kneeling in front of me.

I shook my head that was back hiding in my hands.

“Hey, come on, you can talk to me. Did someone say something?”

I sniffled, looking away from him.“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be crying, it’s not fair.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just seeing Fred’s chair...without him in it, it was heartbreaking. And, and I know you and your family have to deal with that every day for the rest of your lives but...but I miss him so much George!”

“It’s alright. Hey, I’m here.” he moved to sit beside me, holding my close.

“I’ve always wanted to make sure you were happy, and I knew that if I started crying like this then it would make things worse. He was your twin brother. What right do I have to be like this?”

“Listen to yourself,” he softly said, gently pushing me away so that I would look him in the eyes,“you’ve never mourned properly. You heard my dad downstairs, you’re family. Fred loved you, you loved him, we were the best of friends us three! The fact that you’ve not let out all of this makes me worried. It’s not healthy.”

“I know, I just couldn’t stand to see you upset anymore. I wanted to make you happy.”

“You do make me happy (Y/N). You make me extremely happy by just being with me, by just being you. You’re right, all those times I saw your smile, I smiled. Making you laugh is one of the best things in the world, and the fact that I can see you everyday, well, I couldn’t ask for anything more. I just wished that you had been able to talk to me about this, you know I’m always here for you.”

“I should have, I realised that now. But when you would start to let everything out to me, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything, I felt like I was adding to your trauma and making it about myself. And after relentless weeks of nightmares, nightmares that involved you dying alongside Fred, it would all disappear from my mind once I saw you.”

His hand pushed away the hair stuck to my wet face, sadly smiling.“I understand. Promise me that you’ll tell me about these sort of things?”

I nodded.“I promise. I’m sorry that I didn’t speak to you sooner.”

“Don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for.”

Strangely, we both leaned in towards each other, quickly kissing. We didn’t pull away a lot, kissing once again, though this one was firmer and more confident. It wasn’t leading to anything, it was something we both wanted but knew tonight wasn’t the right time to go too deep into this. After a few seconds apart, I couldn’t help it, I had to kiss him again.

“My dad asked about us earlier. After hearing that we bought presents together and stayed with each other, he was wondering if something had finally happened.”

“Glad he’s not the only one wanting something to happen between us.”

“We’ll definitely talk about this tomorrow. But just so you know, I enjoyed that.” George said.

“I did too.” I mumbled, suddenly becoming shy.“And thank you for always being there George. I will get better at expressing my feelings in the moment.”

“I just hope you know that it doesn’t matter how you’re feeling; happy, sad, excited, annoyed, you can tell me anything. And also, if Fred was here, he would have certainly burst in and ruined the moment.”

I giggled.“You’re not wrong there. Perhaps he’s watching down on us know, wishing he could have put some sort of plan into action to embarrass us.”

“I bet he is. But I know he would have also been happy.”

“And we’ll be happy too. We are happy.”

“Yes, now that I’ve got you, I’m going to cherish every moment, just as dad said to.”

I hugged him close.“Don’t ever leave me George.”

“I won’t, not ever.”

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hootysblog · 3 years ago

Text

Day 10 of the fan fiction challenge!

Canon diverge after "Through the Looking Glass Ruins"

Enjoy!

"You Matter to Me"

King is asleep on the couch when he hears a knock at the door. He ignores it until then knock again.

"How dare you wake the King of Demons!"

He opens the door and sees Amity standing in front of him.

Amity rubs her arm and looks at King. "Sorry King. I didn't mean to wake you. I just..."

"King, whose making all that racket down there?" Eda says while walking down the stairs.

"It's Luz's friend. The cupcake smasher."

Amity frowns at King's description of her.

"Kid, what are you doing here?" Eda questions.

"I'm sorry to intrude. I can see you don't want me so I'll just go." Amity starts to leave, but Eda stops her.

"You don't need to go. I'm just surprised to see you hear this late."

Amity walks into the house and looks around.

"So, do you want to tell me why you're here or do I have to guess?"

Amity is about to tell Eda, but they are interrupted by a certain human lagging down the stairs.

"Eda?" *Yawn* "Is it time for school already?"

Eda laughs. "Not yet kid. But your friend is here to see you."

"Which friend?" Luz says sleepily. She mumbles something that Eda and Amity don't hear.

"Amity."

Luz seems to wake up at the mention of Amity.

"Amity? What are you doing here? I'm mean, you're always welcomed here, but I'm surprised to see you here, at my place, so uh...hehe" Luz rambles.

Amity blushes at Luz's awkwardness. Eda can tell that Amity wants to talk to Luz in private.

"Well, I'm just going to head back upstairs because I can see you two can handle yourselves. C'mon King," Eda says.

"But I want to stay here!"

Eda gives him a look. King grumbles and follows her upstairs.

Amity and Luz are left alone in the living room.

They look at each other, both blushing like crazy.

"Do you want to sit down?" Luz asks.

"Uh sure," Amity replies.

They both sit down in the couch and stay silent for a couple of minutes.

Luz is the first the break the silence. "Why are you here Amity?"

Luz looks over at Amity and can see tears forming in her eyes. "Amity?"

"My mother kicked me out of the house."

"What?! Why?"

"She kicked me out because I'm not acting like a Blight," Amity cries.

"Does this have anything to do with your dyeing your hair a couple of days ago?" Luz questions.

"Yes, among other things." Amity replies. "She came home tonight and was furious about my hair. She started to scream about it. I said something along the lines of I'm my own person and I should be allowed to change my appearance."

"I'm afraid to ask, but what was her response to that comment?"

"She brought up you again and how your presence is making me act out against the family."

Luz blushes at her comment (and is happy that Amity didn't glance over to her) but keeps listening to Amity.

"I told her, once again, that you are making me a better person. She said there is no way that human, her words, can make a huge impact on me. She said that humans are inferior to witches, especially Blights."

Luz feels her blood boil at Odalia, and Amity can tell Luz is getting angry, so she reaches out and grabs Luz's hand. Luz feels better and lets Amity continue.

"I told her that you're not inferior and that you're one of the strongest witches I know."

Luz gasps. "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I do. I've seen you improve on your glyphs and it's amazing to watch you work," Amity comments. "Anyway, back to the story. She was seething after I said that. She said that I was staining the Blight name, so she told me to get out."

"I'm sorry Amity."

"I didn't get to say goodbye to my siblings, but I know they'll see me. But my mother screamed while I left the house, "You don't matter anymore since you're not a part of the family! You'll never amount to anything!" I know I shouldn't let her get to me, but it's hard to get that comment out of my mind." Amity sniffs. "What if she's right? What if I don't matter and I don't do anything?"

Luz pulls Amity into a hug and rubs her back. Amity cries into Luz's shoulder.

"Amity, I am so sorry you had to deal with that. No one should ever talk to you like that. If I could, I would go over there right now and inflict some serious damage over there."

Amity looks at Luz and chuckles. "But seriously Amity, no one should ever talk to you. And you know what, I'll let you in on a secret."

"What's the secret?" Amity asks curiously.

"You matter. You matter to your friends, your siblings, and you matter to me." Luz smiles. "Your are an amazing person and an awesome witch. You have grown so much since our first interaction with each other. I'm so proud to call you my friend and I can't wait to see what your future holds because you'll be amazing."

Amity is crying now, but she's crying happy tears. She pulls Luz into a hug. "Thank you Luz. You always know what to say."

Luz looks at Amity and feels bold in her next move.

"Well like you said, I always have a way of sneaking into peoples' hearts."

Luz leans in and kisses Amity on the cheek. Amity gives Luz that same look Luz gave her a couple of days ago.

"How long have you been wanting to do that?" Amity manages to squeak out.

"Since you did that to me,"Luz blushes. "So, uh, do you want to go out sometime or...?"

"YES!" Amity screams.

"Shhh, keep it down. I don't want to wake Eda again." They both laugh and decide to get some sleep. They fall asleep on the couch, snuggling together.

The next morning, Eda finds them still wrapped in each other's arms. She smiles at them, but also takes a picture of them because they're so cute together.

#lumity #the owl house

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maraudersftw · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! I was reading your answer where ud mentioned u took a break for 3 years while finishing hs/college. That's grt that you were able to! Cuz it is what I shud be doing but struggling immensely with. I only have a few months of hs left and it's so crucial that I focus on it but I just cant seem to overcome my addiction with social media, reading, etc. Its become such a vicious cycle of not studying and having panic attacks and so, I just wanted to know how you found the strength to do it or just any advice. It seems so simple but idky it feels near impossible😭 You can totally ignore this if it's too much, I was just losing my mind and ranted as a result :(

Hi, anon! Sorry it's taken me a while to respond to this, but it's only because I've been mulling over how to answer in a way that's helpful.

Honestly, social media addiction is a pretty common but big problem, and I don't claim to be an expert on the matter, so I welcome any of my mutuals to add on to this post with their own tips if they have any.

Personally, I've always been a very career-oriented person, so I seldom put anything before studying and school when I was a student. I mean, don't get me wrong, I still bunked my fair share of classes, dated, partied, etc. etc. but I never let things get to a point where my grades were in serious danger. So I'm not sure if my suggestions will help you any, but I'm still listing them down here, hoping you can at least find them somewhat useful ❤

Don't try to quit cold turkey, because it probably won't work. Reduce the amount of time you spend on social media every day gradually, until you don't need it anymore. Use one of those locking apps that don't let you access another app for a certain amount of time, if you think it'll help

When you're on study breaks, get up and walk around, fetch yourself a snack, go talk to a family member/friend, doodle, or literally just do anything other than open social media

Set study goals for yourself. Decide that you need to get through a particular chapter/topic within the hour and stick to it without looking at your phone. If you're tempted, just keep your phone in a different room so that you can't keep checking it absent-mindedly

Use writing/reading/social media as a reward for yourself after you have completed your studying for the day. It can act as a good motivator if you tell yourself that you'll get to relax and enjoy just as soon as you're done studying for the day!

If it really comes down to it, keep telling yourself how hard you've worked to get here, what you have to lose if you don't pull this off just because you're distracted by social media. This is not the best strategy, but if a negative motivator works better for you, then use this

Delete the apps that really tempt you, if you need to. Honestly, you can return back to social media and pick up where you left off literally years later and it won't be a big deal. Everyone who admires and loves you will understand that you need to put your life before everything else

Invest time in other hobbies that are not quite as addicting to help you cope with the loss of social media. Maybe listen to some music as you study, read a chapter of some book before you're about to sleep, paint or draw something when you need a break, go for a run or just dance around. Anything to keep you busy!

These are all I can think of right now because it's really late here, and my brain is fried, but I really hope you feel better soon, anon 💖💖💖

#asks #anon #claudia answers

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danideservedbetter · 3 years ago

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Alright so, here’s how things are gonna work.

First off, welcome to this side blog. Since it won’t be jolly fun fandom content and will be a little more personal I decided to separate my health and writing journey from my fandom stuff, although all my fandom content will still be linked on my main blog here.

(I write Izuocha/bnha content which isn’t super popular so if you’re not here for that then yeah, I don’t blame you. But if you are I have a link to our discord and community content pinned so def check it out if you’re interested.)

Secondly, you guys will hear details about stuff relating to my health like what kinds of things affect my disorder based on the tests some doctors are ordering, how I’m trying to improve my diet and activity, and routines and goals I’m attempting for myself. I am underweight, and that’s something I’m going to be talking a bit about, so if that’s triggering following this blog might not be the best thing for you. Details under the cut.

So, what kind of disorder do I have and why did I decide to make a health journey blog? My disorder is called idiopathic hypersomnia. Basically what that means is that when my disorder is acting up (based on factors like stress especially or my generalized anxiety rearing its ugly head) I have the capacity to sleep. And sleep and sleep and sleep and sleep. My longest recorded uninterrupted “sleep-attack” was 26 hours long and ever since I caught Covid in January, my body had been slowly growing weaker to the point I was starting to develop atrophy. I’ve had this ten years and my neurologist suspects inactive cells from mononucleosis I caught at 14 was the cause, because other IH patients have linked their sleeping problems to a case of mono or have had it at some point in their lives.

This disease stole many years and many things I’ve looked forward to from me. I lost friends and experiences and failed so many college classes I had to drop out.

I’ve decided I’m taking them back.

It’s not going to be easy. Just as it took ten years to convince myself that my tiredness was something I chose to give into, it took several extra years and many fights with my family to convince them that I had a real actual neurological disorder and that I need help sometimes. My parents and grandmother finally understand that I have to finish college and find a very special boss willing to work around my erratic progress on projects, but the outsiders they married are not as convinced. My grandmother’s husband kicked me out of their house because he wants to be the center of attention and doesn’t like that some days I’m so weak that I needed my grandmother’s help, and my father’s wife thinks I’m a lazy and ungrateful leech who “gets anxiety just being around” me. Both told my father I’ll never be happy so why even bother with me, but my dad is actually striving to understand his own recently-diagnosed PTSD so while we still butt heads he’s understanding that I have to take things day by day because every tiny circumstance affects my disorder.

Now, why did I decide to air all this out? Well, being open about my disorder and how it affects me has helped at least two people that I know of find out that the tiredness they experience isn’t the typical “American work force exhaustion” they were trained to believe is normal. So if I can help even one more, I’ll gladly talk about what this entails and how I deal with it day to day. Another reason is that I’m also one of those big advocates who believes talking candidly about mental health destigmatizes it and sharing ideas can help us grow as people and maybe make it a little easier to deal with.

So now that you know a little bit about me and my disorder, here are my big goals for the next three months provided my university takes pity on me and actually lets me go back.

First up: create routines to train my body to get used to living a full day fully awake. This includes waking up at the same time and going to sleep at the same time. It means getting dressed and going out and doing things, even little things— which I’ll get to in a sec.

Second: I write. I have a novel in limbo and I write fanfics. Writing is a big part of who I am and I’ve written one thing this year, which for a whole six-month stretch is upsetting and disappointing. Today is my reset. In the next 569 days I want to to finish the six stories I have in limbo (except the larger one) and finally reach my goal of posting 200k words in a single year. I wont be hard on myself if I can’t accomplish this because honestly finishing anything in the chaos of my life is going to be a miracle but. There ya go.

Third: go back to freakin college. I don’t care what it takes. Sit down with every official, every lawyer, and every professor it takes to get me back enrolled in classes in the fall.

Fourth: I have several smaller things I have to do, short term goals, stuff like that. I’m gonna create a to do list each day of small tasks I want to get done and while some of these things will be part of my daily routine I am throwing in like one or two things a day that just need to be done. My writing goal will change daily and I’ll keep y’all updated on that with every post I make.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. Dani! That’s so much!! Well, a few months ago I remembered hey!! I basically have a computer in my hand, why make it hard on myself. So I downloaded certain apps to help me out. This isn’t me saying “hey go subscribe to these apps because I said so” it’s just that through a lot of trial and error I’ve come to find that these certain apps work for me and I’ve yet to come across one that has the functionality of everything I need.

Tiimo — so this is an app I found developed by people with autism for people with autism to help them develop good habits and routines. It has preset daily schedules (things like morning routines or nightly routines or work routines) and an internal alarm to let you know when to move on to the next task. I myself have extremely low-level aspergers (to the point where my doctor won’t give me an official diagnosis because I didn’t want people think that *it’s* the reason I have issues with school), so moving from task to task can be difficult sometimes and I also deal with getting distracted. This widget also appears on my home screen so I know what I have to do at a glance. You can program in weekly and daily tasks to fully customize your schedule, which is fantastic for someone like me who wants to for example rotate chores. This is hopefully going to help me get my body in the habit of adjusting to routines and transitioning from one task to another, as well as getting important things done responsibly.

Promptly Journals — I’ve been told for a while that journaling is helpful mentally to kind of recenter yourself, so a bit ago I downloaded several journal apps to add to my morning routine. Now some will prefer more creatively free journals, but I prefer this one that gives me small prompts I can do in a short amount of time that just allows me to get my thoughts down. I can even add pictures at the bottom that go with the theme! I’m scared I’ll run out of prompts eventually lol but until then this app works very well for my needs.

Stretchingexercise — Now idk if it’s from lack of sleep from my disorder, the position I sleep in when I do sleep, all the physical labor I’ve had to do in the past couple weeks, my medicine, or w h a t but I suffer from body aches like no one would believe. I know stretching is supposed to help with that, so I downloaded this app to help me do non-demanding physical activity that wakes me up in the mornings and helps relieve pain so I don’t keep having to take pain relievers. This one has different plans for things like muscle tension, back pain, warm ups— and it also gives you rudimentary weight updates (I’m underweight lololol so we’re looking to fix that) or plan updates. It’s worked really well for me so far and gives you animations and descriptions of the workouts (some taken from yoga) as well as timed breaks and a narrated guide. It’s been pretty helpful in temporary relief and if nothing else gets my blood flowing in the mornings.

Widgetsmith Step counter — in addition to the stretching thing one thing my doctor and I discussed that helps with the sedentary lifestyle is simply walking. I’ve needed so bad to relieve my stamina and reverse the atrophy, and walks have been stellar for that. Now I live in the New Orleans area so humidity and heat force me to go at the crack of Dawn, but honestly my weenie dachshund Charlie really enjoys our time out so he goes with me! The CDC recommends 10,000 steps a day which seems like a lot and it is if you don’t get out much. But this gives me an excuse to get dressed and do the hygienic thing and help Charlie be healthy too, as well as give me time for brainstorming because we walk in a truly beautiful area. I’m sure everyone installed widgetsmith with the last iOS update (Apple users anyway) and while at first the step counter was just interesting I’ve since come to rely on it! We do our 5000 in the morning, which of course is half, and I find that other things I do throughout the day typically drive the counter higher. Anything leftover can easily be accomplished by an evening walk in our neighborhood. Now the caveat is that I have to remote have my phone in my pocket because I don’t own a watch or anything fancy lol, but honestly I need to keep it on me anyway so that serves as a good reminder.

Todoist — this one is my FAVORITE. Ever since I’ve decided that I have trouble keeping track of things I need to do and small stuff I need to keep in mind and appointments, etc, I decided to find a list app. This is the one I found that absolutely helps me for everything from my list of room supplies I need to buy, to my reading list, to general tasks I have coming up I need to complete. And its widget functionality keeps it right on my Home Screen! More organized individuals can just use tiimo, but I’m definitely not one of those individuals so this app is sorely needed and appreciated.

And of course, I know building habits the first few weeks is HARD. So for days my body doesn’t respond to my alarms, I have a checklist of the key things I have to do to keep my life as functional as possible.

So that’s that on that. I’m going to try to keep writing updates and my daily goals in a post in the morning, and reblog what I accomplished in the evening. It’s gonna be tough. But I’m thinking if I can start small I’ll be able to build my stamina enough to return to college and be successful when I do. I hope that anyone watching this journey draws some kind of meaning or inspiration from it. And you guys can even follow along if y’all want! Especially for writers or people trying to get healthier. I can’t promise what works for me will work for you (and honestly I expect things to change especially if I get accepted into college again) but hey, I figure it’s worth a shot.

I hope you guys enjoy watching this journey, if nothing else I hope it’s entertaining. And maybe it’ll be successful. I do know that I’m just gonna try for it, and hope it works out.

First daily update to follow

Xoxo

Dani

#idiopathic hypersomnia #health and wellness #writing challenge

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artxyra · 5 years ago

Text

Another DC TA Marinette Story

*So the other version is strictly a one-shot drabble post while this one might, and I repeat might have more than two parts.

Part 1: Welcome to Gotham

Part 1 (here) | Part 2 |

Marinette’s having a bad day. It started with her waking up late, breaking her five-day streak of waking up early. She nearly fell on her way down the stairs, thankfully she remained unharmed. Then she was late coming to class, but that mainly due to poor time management decisions. Only for her to then realize that she’s no longer a student, but the teacher assistant for Mme. Bustier’s class.

“Look Mme. Bustier, Marinette’s late again.” Lila points out, as the graduate rolls her eyes and takes her place in the back of the classroom.

“That’s enough, Lila.” Caline scolds, before turning her focus to her teaching assistant. “Is everything alright, Marinette?” She asks.

Marinette nods and pulls out a folder filled with paperwork that needs to be grade. The class continues as follows. Caline spoke about the upcoming projects about the American lifestyle in specific cities. Marinette would finish the paperwork, pull out her laptop, and take a few notes on class’ behaviors.

Everything seemed fine, but that crashed when Lila thought it would be a great idea to once again open her big mouth.

“Mme. Bustier, I cannot do this project as [insert overly used lie here].” She pouts.

“Girl, I can help you. She did say that we can do it as a group project.” Alya interjects with a smile.

Lila ever with the dramatics, “Oh Alya, you can’t be serious. I don’t want you doing all the work.”

Marinette could feel her phone buzz in her pocket. She pulls it out to see that it was a message from Gotham’s Prince. She smiles and opens the notification.

Gotham’s Prince: Did you sleep well, Angel?

Gotham’s Fashion Sense: It was good until it wasn’t.

Gotham’s Prince: What do you mean?

Gotham’s Fashion Sense: You’re not with me.

Gotham’s Prince: Well, soon I will be.

Gotham’s Fashion Sense: And I’m counting down the days.

Marinette looks up from her phone and sees that her former classmates are staring at her. She shrugs and places her phone in her pocket.

“What city do you plan on doing, Marinette?” Alix shouts out catching the attention of both Caline and Marinette. The teacher and her assistant lock eyes before the former curtly nod.

“Gotham.” Marinette murmurs, gathering her supplies to neatly present them later.

“I actually visit Gotham, you know.” Lila states, “If you need any help, I’ll gladly give information to you.”

Marinette scoffs and forces a smile towards the pathological liar, “Thank you, Rossi, you will be my last resort.”

Lila once again started the dramatics by crying her eyes out. It is amazing how that liar can still be able to cry with the amount she has done.

It wasn’t long before the class was over. Marinette walks over to the front desk and hands Caline the stack of graded assignments.

“Thank you, Marinette,” Caline says, accepting the assignments.

“I want to tell you in advance that I’ll be joining my boyfriend in a couple of days. Do you think that you’ll need me during that time?”

Caline thinks for a moment then she shakes her head, “I don’t believe so, Marinette. Thank you for the heads up in advance. How are your studies going?”

Marinette smiles, “They’re going great, my business classes are helping me in running my freelancing business. And I already finished my fashion assignments earlier this week.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Caline opens the door for the two of them to exit through. Marinette walks out first with a quick curtsy to the gesture.

Marinette’s phone buzzes again.

Gotham’s Prince: You are the only person that my brother will listen too, call them.

Gotham’s Fashion Sense: Why?

Gotham’s Fashion Sense: What did they do now?

She didn’t receive an answer. Shrugging, Marinette places her phone in her back pocket and make a beeline to the main entrance.

“I’m sure whatever charm you have over Mme. Bustier, will be gone before you know it,” Lila whispers into the graduate’s ear. Marinette rolls her eyes and continues to walk away. Unbeknown to Lila, it was a smirk that presented on the teen’s face rather than a pout.

“That was very brave of you, Marinette.” Tikki complements when the two are alone.

Marinette turns to her kwami and smiles, “I have way better things to do than to let some phony ruin my day. Besides what she does will indeed hurt her at the end.”

“Marinette…” Tikki sighs with a giggle at the end.

“What? You know that it’s true. As long as the class doesn’t know that I actually graduated last quarter, anything that she throws at me will be seen as an assault.”

“You’ve been spending to much time with Jason, haven’t you?” Tikki wonders.

“Only on the weekends, Tikki.” Her chosen jokes before catching the sight of a certain blonde model.

“Hey, Manette,” Adrien Agreste greets, running over to the graduate.

“Hey, Adrien, how was your photoshoot?”

“It could have been better if Lu was there, but I rather suffer in silence and get comforted later.”

“That’s...good to hear.” Marinette’s eyes narrowed unsure of her reply. “Have you thought about the city assignment?”

Adrien shakes his head. “Honestly, I have no clue. I was planning on doing Smallville, but I don’t know.” He looks to Marinette with kitten eyes, “Are you really doing Gotham?”

Marinette nods only to lean against a nearby wall.

“I figure that would be easier to do since I’ve been there and all.” She admits, holding her arms against her chest.

“Great, Gorilla is here.” Adrien groans.

“He’s more of a guardian than anyone else,” Marinette states, spotting the large bodyguard and pushing herself off the wall.

Adrien sighs and wishes the fashion designer a farewell before heading over to Gorilla. Marinette smiles softly seeing how much the model has changed since entering the public school system. Of how he has grown since becoming Chat Noir, granted they did have their ups and downs but once he finally accepted his being, everything has been smooth sailing.

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

Gotham’s Prince: Check Twitter.

Marinette’s eyebrow raises at the message and she opens up her Twitter app.

Dick Grayson @theflyinggrayson Grumpy-pants here is missing his GF

Below shows a picture of Damian Wayne looking at his phone with what appears to be a sad look on his face.

A chuckle escapes her mouth.

Manette @GothamsFashionSense Thanks for the laugh @theflyinggrayson, I pretty sure that you all miss me.

Marinette then adds a cute kitten gif relating to the post.

Gotham’s Prince: What the hell, Angel!

Gotham’s Fashion Sense: You asked and I delivered

Marinette places her phone back into her back pocket and walks in the direction of her family’s bakery.

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

“What do you mean you won’t be able to come?” Caline Bustier asks her assistant in the middle of a meeting. Marinette bites her lower lip and looks between the principal and the full-time teacher.

“What I mean is that I’ll be overseas staying with my boyfriend’s family around that time. At the very least tell where you’re having the class exchange at and I can make plans around that.” Marinette informs the two with arms cross and an irritated look on her face.

“The exchange is with Gotham Academy, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette’s eyes bug out. Her whole demeanor changes. “No,” She denies.

“Will that be a problem, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng?” The principal asks slightly concern for the alumna’s wellbeing.

Marinette straightens herself out. “No, in fact, I will already in Gotham. If something does come up, I will only be a phone call away. Will I get there in time that will depend on what I am doing at the moment.”

Caline’s face brightens, she’s not going to be alone with the class in Gotham. “That’s great news to hear, Marinette.”

“Yes, I’m sure. The trip is in a month, correct?”

“Yes, and the exchange will last for about four weeks. Mme. Bustier will only be there to oversee the program and class if something were to go array. They will be living in housing provided by the school as we’ll do the same to their students.” The principal states.

Marinette nods, “Is that everything or do I need to fill out any paperwork allowing me to supervise the class while at Gotham Academy?”

“I do have the paperwork here for you to fill to get access into the building. Other than that you--well we should be fine. I will inform you if anything has changed.”

“Thank you, Principal De La Fontaine.” Marinette exits the office with a smirk on her face.

Ever since the akuma has begun showing up in France, the Paris school board officials declared Principal Damocles unfit to be a principal and opted for De La Fontaine to oversee college and lycee of the Dupont schools seeing as they are short-staffed. Marinette was able to take the Baccalauréat after pleading to her parents. Thankfully, she was able to pass on her first try and even convinced the school to allow her to be a teaching assistant until the end of the school year.

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

“I’m telling you Dami, I have everything ready and pack for my trip to see you.” Marinette states into the phone. She sighs and switches shoulders as she is placing the final set of clothes into her suitcase. On the other side of the phone, Damian said something that causes her to roll her eyes. “Damian I will end this call; besides, you know that I would call you if something goes wrong. I’ll see you in two days. Je t'aime.” Marinette ends the call before she couldn’t find it in her to blow up her international data even more.

Marinette throws herself onto her chaise sighing, “Tikki, should I take the miraculous box with me or ask Kaalki to open up a portal?” She wonders as her flying ladybug kwami hovers beside her.

Tikki, munching on a cookie, says, “Marinette would it even matter. You use Kaalki every time you go to Gotham. It’s a miracle that you’re parents haven’t caught on yet.”

“You say miracle, I say luck.” Marinette plays, “Besides making it look like I go to the airport has covered my quick trips pretty darn well.”

“Well, what are we going to do about Hawkmoth?”

“I’m giving Luka and Kagami their miraculous for when the class goes to Gotham as Adrien will most likely be joining them. Hopefully, Hawkmoth doesn’t do anything drastic while we’re gone.” Marinette sighs and kicks herself over to lay on her back.

Tikki could only smile at how far her chosen has come. From the unsure thirteen-year-old to the now strong level-headed seventeen-year-old woman. Ever since Fu’s amnesia, Marinette has done a great job of making sure that everything regarding the miraculous box is kept secret and safe. She created a box similar to her diary box to protect the miraculous box.

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

After giving Luka and Kagami their miraculous, she (as Ladybug) informed them that she will be once again going on a vacation overseas. The two wished their friend farewell with the promise of calling her when Hawkmoth attacks.

“I expect details on the proposal when I get back,” Marinette demands, pointing at Luka causing him to blush thinking about a certain cat-themed hero.

“You’ll give a heart attack if you keep saying things like that, Manette.”

“I know,” Marinette beams.

The group of three hugs each other before parting ways.

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

Gotham’s air may have never been clean as crimes happen all the time, but to Marinette, it was like a second home. She loves returning back to Gotham since she met the Wayne family, which was completely by accident. Well, it wasn’t much of an accident it was through Jagged Stone that they met; however, it was by accident how she met Damian.

“Angel! You’re here...finally.” Damian greets his lover of two and a half years. Marinette giggles and runs into his arms. She misses the feeling of his body warmth and well just him in general. Just don’t tell the others that.

“Of course, I’m here and now you’re stuck with me for two months.”

Damian is taken back, “What happened to being here for two weeks?”

“A class exchange with Gotham Academy. As the TA of the class selected, I was roped into joining them on their journey to hell.”

Damian curtly nods his head and wraps his arms around her torso. He kisses her cheek causing the Paris native to blush.

Manette @GothamsFashionSense Look’s who’s back in action. Can’t wait to spend time with you all.

In the attachment is a photo of Marinette posing in front of the Wayne Enterprises with a smile reaching her eyes. Comments flood the designer’s notifications to the point she had to turn them off. The majority of the comments were from the same people, the entirety of the Bat-family.

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

“Jay-Jay, I swear if you play a prank on me, you’ll receive no cookies for the rest of the week,” Marinette growls, exiting the guest bedroom--well it’s really hers, but won’t admit it.

“Todd, it’s too early for this.” Damian groans, coming from behind the designer in a personalize pajama design set.

Jason stares at the two in shock and teasingly asks with a mock sense of seriousness, “Did you at least used protection?”

Marinette’s jaw drops as murderous intent rolls off Damian.

“I’m gonna kill you, Todd!” Damian screeches, pulling a katana out from miraculous knows where and chase at the laughing anti-hero. Marinette stood frozen as a rosy pink color spreads across her cheeks.

“Why would Master Damian and Master Jason be running down the halls, Miss Marinette?” Alfred wonders, appearing in front of the designer.

Marinette shakes her head and gives the butler a cheeky smile, “Jay-Jay being inappropriate. I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually kills Jason today.”

Alfred sighs and tells her that breakfast should be done in a moment. Marinette happily nods then returns back to her room to get change.

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

“What do you mean that Marinette isn’t coming to class?” Chloe shrieks, when Adrien announced that Marinette had left for a trip yesterday. The entire class could only focus their ears on the two blondes for gossip.

“It’s like I said, Mari, said she’ll be gone for a couple of weeks. She didn’t say where and all I know is that Mme. B let her off the presentation assignment.”

Chloe scoffs then huffs at the newfound information. “Well, that will explain why Lu and Gami showed up last night instead of her.”

“I’m sure she’ll give us a call when she settles in,” Adrien adds on just as Mme. Bustier walks into the classroom with a stack of papers in hand.

“Good evening class.” She greets, setting the stack down on her desk. “As you all know, our class was selected for a class exchange with our American partners. These are your permission slips to sign and date for the trip. If there is any question, please do not hesitate to contact me.”

“How long will we be gone for?” Alya asks raising her hand without being called on.

“The program will last for four weeks. What you learn during the exchange will count as a credit to graduate.” The teacher smiles. “Are there any other questions?”

No one else raises their hands. Caline smiles at this and begins to hand out the permission slips.

“Have these all turned in by the end of this week.”

“What about, Marinette?” Surprisingly, this question didn’t come from the protect Marinette squad but instead Juleka, who is usually quiet in the class.

Caline is taken back, “Marinette will be joining us for this exchange. We have already contacted her parents. Are there any other questions?”

The room goes silent. Caline nods and turns on the projector. “Today we will be going over your presentation assignment. The only person excused is Marinette as she has completed hers in advance.”

Of course, the class blows up at that declaration.

“What, why does she get special treatment?” Alya’s voice booms through the classroom. “If you one it should be Lila!”

“Alya, calm down, the reason why Marinette did her assignment is that she won’t be with us these coming weeks. If you have an issue with that take that up with her. Now please, can I continue with my lesson.” Caline could feel a headache coming. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to mention Marinette’s presentation and just use it as a template for the others to follow.

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

Manette @GothamsFashionSense Been in town for two days and these idiots are still the same. Mar’i, honey, you the best!

Below the tweet is an attached image of Marinette sitting in the middle with Mar’i Grayson on her lap laughing as Damian appears to be yelling at Jason, Tim’s head smack-down on the table a coffee cup in hand. Dick behind them all with Kori’s arm wrapped around his torso.

Marinette laughs at the impending struggle Damian has in an attempt to once again harm Jason. She plays with the young toddler on her arms as Mar’i tries to take a scoop of the leftover ice cream. Marinette bounces the young Grayson in her lap and feeds a scoop of ice cream.

“It’s so nice to have you back, Nette. Mar’i miss her Auntie.”

Marinette chuckles brushing off the comment, “Mar’i has several other Aunts, how could she miss me? Beside’s I’m not even a Wayne.”

Kori raises an eyebrow and Dick coughs up a “Yet.” before turning away as if he didn’t spill anything important.

“Pardon?” Marinette wonders turning her attention to the older Grayson.

“It’s nothing Bluebird, just a cough that is all.” Marinette purses her lips before deciding to let it go to play with Mar’i.

Mar’i squeals in delight as Marinette plays with her stomach.

Damian watches from the corner of his eye. A smile sneaks it’s way up onto his face.

“Wake up, Replacement.” Jason say as he kicks Tim’s leg.

Tim’s arms grab the nearest coffee cup and drinks from it. He bounces back up with sleep still in his eyes.

“Tim, you need sleep.” Marinette states.

“Look whose talking. When’s the last time you slept?” Tim counters, knowing that they would have battles on who can stay up the longest without rest. They’re pretty much tied for first.

Marinette was about to open her mouth, but one glance at Damian told her otherwise.

“Angel, when was the last time you slept--I mean actually slept?” Damian asks, appearing behind her. He kisses her cheek. She blushes and leans her head into his chest.

“I’m fine, my prince. I actually slept well last night.” She answers before whispering, “Being next to you and all.”

Jason oohs but quickly moves to evade the punch that Damian was about to throw. Marinette laughs and pushes away the mess that Mar’i created on the table. What a normal evening with the Wayne’s.

“So, Bluebird, how are your studies going? I hear that you have a big project coming up soon.” Jason asks, taking a seat across the designer.

Marinette chuckles, “They’re going great and that big project you supposedly heard about is nearly done, but it’s not for a class.” She teases.

“Do we at least get to see it? C’mon Bluebird, help your brother out.”

“Damian doesn’t even know about it.” Marinette narrows her eyes at her boyfriend. Damian chokes on his drink and looks away. “Jay-Jay you will be the first to know.”

“Hey, what about me?” Mar’i’s voice asks looking up to her aunt.

“The second person, Jay-Jay, you will be the second.” The designer corrects herself before snuggling the younger Grayson in her arms. Mar’i giggles.

Jason scoffs, but he has to agree that seeing Marinette and Mar’i acting all cute and stuff was a miraculous sight to see.

Dick Grayson @theflyinggrayson The two Maris in one place

Attach is a photo of Marinette holding Mar’i outside the ice parlor smiling at one another with Damian off to the side looking longingly at Marinette. Comments from the surrounding BatFamily, Dick’s followers and co-workers flood the comments section.

----------

Two weeks of pure and utter bliss. Too bad, it had to end seeing as the worst class at Dupont Public schools in Paris is coming to Gotham Academy the next day or so. Marinette’s mentally preparing herself to the slaughter of comments that will be coming her way.

“Mme. Bustier, I can assure you that I will check with the academy this afternoon about the arrangement. You can worry about preparing the class for this trip.” Marinette speaks into the phone.

Damian waits for the call to end to sweep in and be the caring boyfriend. He kisses her cheek and holds her.

“These next four weeks are going to be hectic. I just know it..” Marinette mumbles to him. Damian huffs tightening his grip.

“Thank you, Dami.” Marinette pauses, “I really needed that.”

“Of course, Angel.” They kiss. “Do you need any help?”

Marinette shakes her head.

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

Back in Paris, the class gathers at Dupont for departure. Parents came and went saying goodbye to their teens and wish them the best. Lila’s already trying to spin a story that focuses on her and this time she really trying hard to spin her web deeper than ever

“It’s been forever since I’ve been in Gotham, you know. The last time I was there, it was for a Wayne Gala and my Damibear asked me out. It was so magical. I was dress is this sunset like gown and he was matching me. You know, when I told him that I was coming, he practically jumped with joy…”

Adrien and Chloe could only wince at the sound of her voice and eluded lie. Everyone in their right mind would know that Damian Wayne has been in a relationship with this girl under the username GothamsFashionSense as the Wayne family tweet about her a lot. Along with that, she look eerie similar to Marinette but with black hair and pink lowlights.

“I can’t wait to see their faces when the cat jumps out of the bag. Oh, how her empire will crumble to nothing.” Chloe admits to, reapplying her lip-gloss.

“Well, I just hope this all ends before graduation. Do you think Mari will be joining us on the flight or something?” Adrien wonders as he watches Luka say his goodbyes to his sister.

Chloe shrugs and looks at Kagami, who’s coming their way.

“‘Gami,” Chloe greets hugging the Japanese fencer.

“Hey Bee, and hello to you too Adrien.”

Adrien curtly nods to Kagami. Luka walks over to them and stands behind the blonde model. No one but the two women in front of them notices the interlocking of their hands.

“You think you can live without your model for a couple of weeks?” Chloe hints with a smirk on her face.

Luka sarcastically laughs, “Yes, I’m sure Bee. Though the real question is can you last without your dragon for four weeks.”

Chloe scoffs as Kagami laughs pulling her girlfriend closer to her.

It wasn’t long before Mme. Bustier called for the class to get onto the bus. The couple gave their significant others a quick kiss or in Adrien’s and Luka’s case a hand tightening before heading off. Oh what they shall await when they reach Gotham.

~Part 2

As of 12/9/19, the Tag List is CLOSED

Any asks before that will still be added. After that, I’m sorry but can follow my fic tags.

#daminette #teacher assistant Marinette AU #teacher assistant au #ml x dc #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfic #maribat #mlb x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #marinette x damian

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sasha-r-blog · 4 years ago

Text

A Promising Encounter

Timing: A few months back

Parties: @professorbcampbell and @sasha-r-blog

Location: University campus cafe

Summary: Sasha’s advisor sets up a meeting between her and Professor Campbell to discuss her academic career. Ben sees promise in her.

Content: Allusions to manipulation

“I think it would be good for you to meet with one of the faculty mentors. It doesn’t have to be a regular occurrence, but if you try it you might find something of value. Maybe ideas for ways to get involved on campus, or suggestions of ways to make your major feel more worthwhile to you. Or maybe a way to take a more interdisciplinary approach to your academic career. A lot of students find branching out helps them to get a fuller experience at the university. I’ll put in an appointment for you with one of them. I wouldn’t want you to go into your second semester still not feeling settled when there are options that may help.”

Sasha gripped the shoulder strap of her school bag so tight her knuckles were turning white. Why had she agreed to this? She could have just said no to her advisor and wouldn’t have had to deal with any of this today. But now she was standing near the entrance of the on campus cafe, halfway to a panic attack. She could have just said no, but instead she just sat there across from her advisor as she droned on at her, nodding like an idiot at being signed up for this when she really wanted nothing to do with it. It wasn’t like her advisor’s suggestion was dumb, it was just that now Sasha had to walk into public space on campus and meet with a stranger that she couldn’t even remember the name of. Professor Candle or Combbull or something.

She took a shaky breath. She probably looked like a weirdo for lingering at the entrance, foot tapping and sweating under her sweater. It was hard to tell if she was imagining the people leaving giving her weird glances and giggling, but she quickly rushed in after they passed. It wasn’t even that crowded, no rush of students grabbing coffee and bagels between classes at the moment. But there was still a decent amount of seats filled, mostly people chatting with each other or working alone on their laptops. Oh great, right, she didn’t even know what this professor looked like. Sasha awkwardly walked over to the side, avoiding the questioning glance of the barista who was probably expecting her to order something. This was the worst. Either this guy was waiting for her here and she was just looking around like an idiot, or he hadn’t even arrived yet and Sasha was still looking around like an idiot. Maybe she’d be lucky today and the professor messed up his schedule and couldn’t even make it. She’d give it 10 minutes. That was fair right? Then after that she was legally allowed to bail.

Looking at his watch, Ben shut off his computer and pulled on his wool overcoat. The beginnings of snow had started to drift down on the campus, which was a bit of a nuisance. Ice and freezing temperatures complicated his affairs. But, Yule was nearly upon them and he was looking forward to gathering with the rest of his family to celebrate the occasion with hot chocolate and human sacrifices. Maybe his sister in law would break out the mulled wine-- that would be a treat. Ben took his time as he walked towards the campus coffee shop. He was in no hurry to meet this new student. He’d looked up her records when one of the advisors had asked if he had any availability in his schedule to meet with a “brilliant but flounder” student. Of course, how could he say no? Smiling at one of his former TA’s as he walked across the campus, Ben sighed. Computer science majors, logical to a fault typically. He doubted he would have much luck with this one, but who knew.

Walking into the coffee shop, he glanced around and saw a fidgeting young girl in the corner. Sasha. That must be her. With a warm smile on his face, Ben offered a polite wave. “Sasha Rodriguez, correct?” He asked, “Apologies for the delay, a lecture ran long. I’m Professor Campbell, but please, call me Ben.”

Unfortunately, within three minutes of Sasha’s countdown to leave, a man walked into the coffee shop and greeted her. Great. Well, yeah, actually great in the sense that she didn’t have to awkwardly stand here anymore unsure who she was supposed to meet. Sarcastic “great” at the fact that she wasn’t getting out of this social interaction any time soon.

“Hi, yes, that’s me,” Sasha said, giving a small wave toward the professor before realizing that was probably unnecessary and dumb. “My advisor said we were supposed to meet for a mentoring...thing. I guess we should sit down somewhere?”

Luckily the area Sasha had tucked herself into while waiting had a free table only a few feet away. Sasha took her backpack off and sat down, half wanting to keep it on her lap, it’s weight somehow comforting. But she decided against it. This would just be talking, which didn’t exactly make her feel any better, but reminding herself that talking to someone new wouldn’t kill her was important. Most shy kids she knew growing up were at least teacher’s pets to balance out the lack of friends, but she had never even managed that. Peers, teachers, strangers, all fair game for her nerves. But she could handle talking to him for a bit. At least her anxiety was easing a little now that she didn’t have to wonder about the unknown of when and who she was meeting. With a nod, Ben gestured for her to grab a table. “That sounds like a wise idea. You hold tight, I’ll get us some coffee.” He said and left to go to the barista. With his trademark smile, Ben ordered an americano and a drip coffee and collected the drinks at the end of the bar. “I wasn’t sure what you preferred, so I thought it’d be safest to go with a black coffee.” He said, setting the mug in front of the girl. “So. Sasha. It’s good to meet you-- please, don’t think of this as any kind of interview or lecture or anything like that. I’m here to act as a sort of liaison between you and the faculty here. And, to offer you a warm White Crest welcome. Go Moose!” Ben said with a very “ra-ra” gesture of his hand. It was an act, crafted over the years to inspire confidence and ease the nerves of some of the more anxiety ridden students. “How are you finding the university so far?”

Sasha nodded, watching as Professor Campbell, or Ben she guessed, ordered the drinks. Right, probably best to actually drink coffee at the coffee shop. It was a campus location, but that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t get annoyed looks if they spent time here without ordering something.

As Ben handed her the drink Sasha mumbled out a quick thanks, taking a sip before remembering to respond with more. “Um, yeah, black coffee’s fine. That’s what I usually have.” Adding milk would have just made her stomach mad at her, and adding sugar didn’t really seem to do anything to the taste. She wasn’t really sure why people added it in the first place. Taking another sip, she realized how sorely she needed the coffee. Maybe that’s part of why she was so on edge. Sasha hadn’t been a big coffee drinker before coming to college, but it was quickly becoming a staple with all her late night patrols as The Claw. She read once that coffee could actually make people more anxious or something, but right now it was giving her stressed and tired brain a much needed jolt.

“Thank you,” she said, smiling slightly at the little “ra ra” hand gesture. She hadn’t been sure what to expect, but she was glad that Ben didn’t seem like some of the other professors she had met this semester; harsh gazes and even harsher deadline, rambling so fast Sasha couldn’t keep up, or dully reading off their lesson plans and then slipping away after the class as if they had never even existed.

“It's going alright so far, I think. I’m not doing the best in some of my classes but, um, I don’t know, I guess otherwise things are fine.” That was the thing, what did Sasha do besides classes? She had barely gotten to know anyone on campus, peer or otherwise. She had managed to avoid almost every campus event out of tiredness or busyness or anxiety. It wasn’t like she was in any clubs either. Sasha tapped her fingers across the side mug. She really must look like a loser for that, but then again, that wasn’t exactly a surprising turn of events. She had The Claw, that’s what she did, so why did she need to try to do stuff on campus besides not flunk out?

“I don’t really do much here.”

“Excellent. And, you’re quite welcome.” He said with an encouraging nod. Regarding the girl over the rim of his coffee mug, Ben took careful stock of her body language, her general demeanor. She seemed nervous, but that was normal amongst the new undergraduate students, even the ones that claimed to be adjusting well. Ben took a sip from his cup as she quietly explained her situation. Struggling in class, an advisor mandated meeting with one of the mentor teachers to ease her into the life of collegiate life? How interesting. Interesting indeed. “I think there’s always a certain amount of an adjustment period to be expected with grades,” Ben said, because that’s what the understanding professor would say. That’s what someone who didn’t expect greatness from his students would say. “So I wouldn’t let that bother you very much, as long as you’re enjoying the classes you’re in. College is a transitionary period, there are always going to be bumps in the road whenever these things happen.”

She tapped her fingers on the mug-- an irritating habit that Ben ignored. Hopefully someone would be able to drill that out of her, it wasn’t very polite. “What about extracurriculars? Are you living on campus? Have you gotten to know some of your classmates? There are all sorts of clubs offered by the student body, I know more than a few students who have found their niche in one club or another.”

“Yeah, classes are good. I like them.” It wasn’t a complete lie, Sasha didn’t hate her classes. But whatever she thought she was good at when it came to math and coding and tech didn’t apply much here. And when it did it was the basic stuff in classes that made her eyes glaze over and excuse herself to the “bathroom” just to walk up and down the hallway to wake herself up.

She nodded along to what Ben said about it being a transitionary period, but as he continued on with more questions she froze up a bit. “Um...not really. I mean I don’t really do much on campus. I’ve seen flyers around and I know they have activity fairs and stuff like that, but I’ve never gone.” Sasha nervously picked at a hangnail. Boy, the flap of skin sure was way more interesting than looking back at this professor who was probably exasperated at her lack of involvement. “I live on campus, so I know I don’t really have an excuse, but like I said, I don’t really do anything here. I just sort of do my own thing. Alone.”

“What classes are your favorite?” Ben asked conversationally, leaning back in his chair, one leg folding over the other as he watched the girl with an appraising eye. “I’m sure you must enjoy our coding classes-- I’ll admit, I’m not very familiar with the faculty in that department, but I’ve heard good things from some of the other students I mentor. They’re on the engineering track, though, I’m not sure if you’d have much overlap with them.” He said.

Noticing the sudden “deer in the headlights” expression on her face, Ben noted to ease up on the questions. Some students thrived off them, Sasha clearly wasn’t one of those. Fair enough, he could work with that. “That’s perfectly alright-- college can be incredibly overwhelming when you first arrive.” He said, tone gentle. He watched her pick at her nails with increasing distaste. Disgusting. But, he didn’t let the annoyance show on his face. Instead, he cast a sympathetic smile in her direction. “And there’s nothing wrong with being alone. That said, college is a time for meeting people, making friends. I’m sure I’m not the first person to tell you this, so I’m apologizing in advance for sounding like a cliche. But, some of the best friends I’ve had I met in college. You’ll never know who you’ll meet unless you put yourself out there.” He said with an encouraging nod.

Sasha hadn’t expected the professor to seem so casual about her lack of involvement, though she supposed that wasn’t that surprising. In her anxiety she thought maybe this meeting was some last ditch faculty intervention thing where Ben would shake his head and tsk tsk at her and explain how Sasha was going to ruin her college experience by being so much of a loner.

Her shoulders eased slightly, more tension leaving as she reminded herself that this was just a meeting with some random professor and even if he gave her a list of clubs it wasn’t like he could force her to go. She had been in college long enough now that she knew, for better or for worse, if she didn’t want to do something like go to class or take a professor’s advice she didn’t have to. But it was nice that Ben didn’t seem like the type so far to be a jerk about it.

“I mean, I like this one class, Scientific Simulation and Modeling. It is for one of my Gen Eds but it fits into my whole major and the professor makes it pretty fun. We were mostly doing simulations for regional ecology and wildlife population stuff, and that was kinda cool. I’ve really only taken math and computer classes this semester. I know I need to do all the other Gen Eds but besides English 101 I haven’t really thought about what to do for that. I haven’t looked into engineering classes, but I’m sure some of them might overlap with what I need.”

Still, even if Ben was being nice, Sasha couldn’t help but wonder how much he really cared about her major or anything else she was saying . He apparently wasn’t part of the department most of her classes were in, and Sasha assumed most professors didn’t spend time outside of their own academic circle. But Ben seemed to watch intently in a way that made Sasha feel like maybe he was actually interested in listening, even if she decided to ramble on about the model the class worked on for trout populations in the local rivers or how she was kinda proud she got an A on her last Trig test when she had been hovering around a C all semester. She wasn’t going to though, even she didn’t care that much about her classes to talk about specifics. And she knew painfully well if she did talk too long about her interest most people just thought she was weird.

“I’ve never really been away from home or alone so I guess it is pretty weird to get used to. Alone without my parents I mean. But I mostly hung out by myself back home too so that isn’t really much of a change. I uh, I mean, I hear that a lot, the whole thing about making close friends in college. I’m sure it is true for most people but...”

God, she must sound like such a sad sack. After she took another sip of coffee she tried her best to change the subject.

“But I haven’t really had luck. Anyway, uh, what department do you teach in then?”

Ben barely paid attention as she rattled on and on about whatever silly little class had captured her interest. It seemed like some kind of scientific class, one he was entirely unfamiliar with. Which hardly made her the ideal candidate for his little club-- hardly any of his carefully cultivated minds were on the science track. But, she could be useful yet. Hrv’Shtooooor didn’t care how long it took him to find fresh blood, only that he did. Smiling and nodding at the appropriate intervals, Ben took a sip from his coffee cup. “Have you talked to the professor at all about other courses they teach? I know more than a few of my own students helped settle on their degree tracks because of influential teachers. Not--” He added with a deliberately rueful smile, “only myself, of course. But, that could be a good starting point as far as finding common interests with others or exploring new paths.”

“People take things at their own pace.” Ben said with an assured nod. So she was a loner. Interesting, very interesting. That boded well. The desperate and the lonely made for easy targets, though the science minded had always been a harder nut for him to crack. He relished a challenge, though. At her question, he cast her a polite smile as she settled back in his chair, one leg folded over the other. “I’m a Professor of the Classics, so I’m with the School of Arts and Sciences. Not classic literature, mind you,” He said lightly, though the misconception continually irked him. As if he cared about Bronte, Austen, Fitzgerald, or any of the rest of their ilk. “I teach Greek and Roman antiquity. Politics, philosophy, history, literature, and so on. It’s a dull field, but I find it quite enjoyable.”

“I probably should, I barely know what my plan for next semester is. But I guess if a professor teaches one good class hopefully their other ones are good too.” Again, she should probably put more thought into this, considering how much she was paying for school. But maybe Ben was right. Going at her own pace, figuring it out bit by bit, couldn’t be that much of a disaster, right? She hadn’t flunked out her first semester, she couldn’t be that bad.

“So would the classics include myths and things like that?” Politics and philosophy sounded like an easy way for Sasha to fall asleep instantly in class. But myths were kinda cool. She never really looked a whole lot into it, but a lot of those greek heroes felt like old timey superheroes. She sure as hell wasn’t going to mention that to the professor though. There had to be a limit to how kind he could be, and she doubted comparing years of studies to comic books was going to make him happy.

“I don’t really know if I really get a lot of that stuff, but it sounds cool. It covers a lot of stuff it sounds like.” She was surprised he was calling his own field dull, it made her reflexively want to disagree, even if half of what he listed did sound boring to her. Maybe it was just the idea that someone could spend years doing something and people would still think it wasn’t worth much. It made her vaguely sad. She knew first hand that it sucked to care about something a lot when plenty of others didn’t.

“That’s the spirit.” Ben said with an approving smile and gestured grandly with his cup. “A positive mindset is a valuable thing. College is all about experiences. And everyone has their own way of going about things. But, it never hurts to venture out a bit, dip your toes in the water, that sort of thing. This school is a small one, all things considered, but I’m sure you’ll find professors-- and peers-- who suit you best.” He said with a kind expression on his face. And he would do his best to steer her towards his own little niche. If she got away, so be it. But, he was a patient man and so was his Lord.

Myths. Of course, that was all anyone could ever talk about. But, he supposed it was easy to be enamored with the stories of ancient times when you didn’t know that some of the so-called myths were alive and well. Nodding, Ben bridged his fingers together, “Yes, we cover the various mythos surrounding both Greek and Roman society, though I typically focus on how they were indicative of the times in which they were written and the religious importance they held.” Leaning forward, he said in a conspiratorial whisper, “But, between you and me? My segment on Hercules is one of my favorite sections. Next to Gilgamesh, he’s one of the greatest heroes in history.” Ben said with a nod.

“Ah, you’re very kind. But, I’ve spent too many hours at conferences led by geriatric old fogeys to delude myself into thinking that what I teach is “cool”.” Ben said, making air quotes with a modest shrug. “That said, it’s my field of choice and I’m always very pleased to see the new generation of historians who are interested in preserving antiquity the way I do.” He said before glancing casually at his watch, a throw away gesture to see how observant she was. Was she the type to notice the subtlety of others actions? Or would she gloss over it?

It would be nice if what Ben said was true, if Sasha could connect with people at the college and feel a bit more at home. Maybe she was just being pessimistic. It wasn’t like she never took risks. Climbing onto icy rooftops and chasing down bad guys wasn’t what most people would call playing it safe. So why was it so hard to just talk to people in comparison?

“I think heroes and stuff like that reflect a lot of things.” Sasha winced slightly at her own words. She wished she could say it in a way that sounded smarter, but she agreed with him. The people others looked up to and wrote about, even if they weren’t real...well, they usually said something about the person who was writing about them, about what they wished for, who they wanted to be. “Are you teaching any classes about that stuff soon? I...honestly I’ve not really thought about my schedule much but maybe I could take one.” At the very least it might fill a history gen-ed or something. There wasn’t harm in trying.

Sasha smiled at Ben talking about not being cool. Sasha wasn’t sure any professor could be “cool” but at least he was complaining about the old-timey professors rather than being one himself. As he spoke Sasha caught him glancing at his watch. Crap, how long had they been sitting here talking? Sasha glanced over at the clock on the nearby wall, worried that looking at her phone would seem rude. She was surprised by how much time had passed. If it felt like just a few minutes ago she was halfway to bailing out of this meeting in the first place out of nerves. “Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to talk so long.”

Ben regarded the girl with an appraising nod. Heroes, hm? Perhaps she was just one of the innumerable students who were obsessed with the Marvel movies that had trickled out of Hollywood over the past decade. But, it was her body language that interested her more. She seemed hesitant, self-critical, anxious. As though her own words couldn’t stand on their own. Interesting. Very, very interesting. With another winning smile, Ben let out a chuckle, “As luck would have it, I am.” It was one of his most popular courses with the undergraduates, how could he not offer it? The course had pulled in more than a few of his most recent… disciples. “I have a course on Greek and Roman literature that focuses quite extensively on the heroes-- and villains-- of myth.” He said earnestly. “It’s open to most degree tracts, but don’t quote me on that. I’m not as familiar with course requirements as I should be.”

Ah, she noticed. Observant, anxious, eager to please, and apologetic. Very good, very good indeed. With a warm smile, Ben stood up and held out a hand for a firm handshake. “No, no, believe me, the pleasure was all mine. I enjoy being able to talk to promising young students like yourself. And do mean that,” He said as he pulled his jacket back on, preparing to walk back out into the wintery street. “You have a lot of potential, Sasha. Don’t let minor setbacks hold you back from that.” With that, Ben strode out of the coffee shop a satisfied expression on his face as he left. Sasha Rodriguez. What a promising young woman indeed.

#wickedswriting #para #ben

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londonsquitebiggg · 4 years ago

Text

The One -Chapter 2

^^college campus^^^^

Krista’s POV,

After school I headed home and did the usual, helped mom cook dinner, talked with my parents about our days. My dad asked me about Harry and his friends whose names I didn't know. I blushed profusely at the mention of his name, not wanting to be drawn back in to the thoughts I had about him... they weren't the most appropriate which isn't okay because he is obviously not my mate because he would have said something to me, right?

Either way I shouldn't be having these kinds of thoughts about him.. especially because I've never had such vulgar thoughts about any guy no matter how hot they were. Not to mention I'm supposed to be focusing on the fact that I'm going to have my first shift in two days, plus it will be my birthday and we'll have a huge party.

You see, in the werewolf community your eighteenth birthday is the same amount of excitement humans get on their twenty-first birthday. Just instead of getting to drink and become an "adult". It's when we shift for the first time and we get our wolf, we get to start our training, and not to forget we can start searching for our mates.

With me being the Alphas oldest child it's a pretty big deal. My parents are throwing a HUGE party. Inviting every pack member to show off their pride and joy of a daughter coming of age. Once I shift and find my mate, they will take over the Alpha position from my father and ill become our packs Luna.

"Krista, sweetie did you hear anything that I just said?!" My father exclaimed, frustrated that I was not listening to what he was saying.

"Sorry daddy I was just lost in my thoughts. I'm really nervous for my shift." Was my response knowing that he was go easier on me knowing that I was scared. You see I've always been a daddy's girl. My dad and I have always been super close, he wants me to know everything there is about being a good leader and person.

"I was just saying that we should invite Harry and his pack mates to your birthday party. Might be a good opportunity for them to find their mates seeing as our whole pack will be in one place?" Daddy responded.

My breath caught in my throat and the thought of them being there, him being there, making it a lot easier to find out if he is my mate.

"That is a great idea! Would you like me to ask them or would you like to relay the message?" I asked, hoping he would leave it up to me so I would have an excuse to talk to him again.

"You can do it, I do believe that Harry is supposed to be coming over tomorrow afternoon so that I could catch up with him. I haven't seen him under non-pack related circumstances since his mother and Robin got married. But seeing as you'll see him before me and it is your party, I think you should be the one to invite them and show they are welcome here." Was his response as we all finished and mom started cleaning off the table.

After being excused from dinner I decided to retire to my room for the remainder of the evening. I started reading over the notes I had taken today and going over the semester notes before changing into my pajamas, washing my face, brushing my teeth and heading to bed. Not being able to keep a certain brow haired green-eyed man out of my mind.

****************************** THE NEXT DAY *************************************

"BEEP, BEEP, BEEP"

Another morning awoken by that lovely sound. My morning consisted of my normal routine, as finished I walked into the living room where my dad was sitting, I walked over to him and kissed his cheek.

"Morning daddy, I'm off to school I love you see you later"

I walked into the kitchen to tell my mother goodbye, while also grabbing an apple and granola bar before grabbing my bag and walking out to my car and drove to campus. As I pulled into my parking lot and I saw Harry standing there with his group of friends. What a beautiful sight to see first thing in morning. I wouldn't mind starting every day staring at his god like face.

I shook that thought away and shut off my car, grabbed my things, and got out. It was almost like he sensed I was near he turned around and checked me out while taking his bottom lip in between his teeth and winking at me once we made eye contact.

I have to admit, when he does that it's so sexy and a turn on... WHAT AM I THINKING?!?! I felt myself starting to blush so bad that I probably looked like a tomato. I did the only logical thing I could think of, I ducked my head and started walking with my head down into the school as quickly as my legs would carry me.

Harry's Pov,

I was standing outside school talking to the guys about how I am going to talk to the Alpha today about me finding my mate... I know what you must be thinking, "Harry, why not just tell the girl? Why put her and yourself through the torment of waiting?" well you see in the werewolf community, if either party is not of age the older wolf must ask for the families permission before starting a relationship with each other.

Trust me I'm going crazy not being with her but I've been waiting for her for eight years, I'm sure I could last a few more hours until I go speak to Alpha Mayfield to locate her family and go figure out claiming what is rightfully mine!

Speaking of my lovely mate I was knocked out of my thoughts about all the things I couldn't wait for once I was able to officially say she was mine, when I caught her delicious scent. I turned around to gawk at her when I let out a deep but quite growl at the site of her.

She had on a white tight-fitting cropped tank top, with a red, white, and blue flannel shirt over it, light blue Jean SHORT shorts, and converse. Holy shit I was that is girl is trying to kill me! Like hell how does she manage to look so incredibly sexy yet still innocent???

I saw her looking at me and I bit my lip and shot her a wink looking to get a reaction out of her, I know she was trying to hide it but I saw a splash of color make its way onto her perfect face.

******************* AFTER SCHOOL AT KRISTA'S HOUSE******************

As I walked up the front steps of the Alpha's house, I was mentally giving myself a pep talk. I mean, I've known Alpha Mayfield for most of my life but having to tell him I met my mate and figure out how to initiate contact is a big deal. I knocked on the front door. I heard heavy footsteps approaching and I straightened myself out when Alpha Mayfield opened the door.

"Ah, Harry my boy, it's so great to see you again. Please come in, come in."

As I walked in the door there was a faint scent of my mate as if she was here recently, I assume she must be friends with the Alphas kids.

" It's good to see you too sir. Thank you so much for allowing me and my friends onto your territory to look for our mates. It means a lot to us to have your cooperation with the matter. I'm sure you will be delighted to hear that I have indeed found my mate." I told him while I followed him into the living room taking a seat on the couch as he took a seat in the recliner.

"OH! This is great news!!!! I'm so thrilled for you Harry, tell me who is the lucky girl?" Just as I was about to respond to him, that lucky girl come rushing through the front door. I figured that she was here with the Alphas daughter. So, imagine my shock when MY lovely mate walked straight up to the Alpha and gave him a huge hug and kiss on the cheek.

I was stunned! Is she trying to make me mad? Didn't she see I was right here? Are they together? He has a mate and so does she.... ME! and not to mention that she was a lot younger than him... what the bloody hell is going on her...

"Hi daddy how was your day?" Came Krista's greeting, breaking me from my troubled thoughts. It all made sense now, she wasn't his daughters' friend, or his lover, she WAS his daughter.... Holy shit....my mate is the Alphas daughter!

Telling him who my mate was just got a whole lot harder! When I tell him Krista is my mate is there is a 50% chance I am going to be killed. I mean I don't think he would because he knows me and everything but he's an Alpha and we are talking about a twenty-six your old man coming in and taking his only daughter as his own. I know if it was my pup, I would be ... well let's just say if the guy didn't leave with his tail between his legs, I didn't do my job right.

" It was a long day sweetheart! Krista, you know Harry right? He's one of the wolves I told you about, I know you said you were going to invite him and his friends to your party. Oh! And good news he found his mate!" Alpha Mayfield told her with excitement, I could have sworn I saw disappointment flash across her face but she quickly covered it.

Krista's Pov,

NO!!! He can't have mate! I was supposed to be his mate, this totally sucks. I'm so upset I just want to run to my room and cry. I have to suck it up and find out who she is so I can scope out my competition. WAIT! What the freak am I thinking?!?! in less than two days I will be able to find my mate, I can't not fall for this guy who already has a mate!

"So Harry, who is you mate? She sure is a lucky girl! It really is so exciting that you already found her." I fake enthusiasm and acted like I'm not dying on the inside.

"That's for me to know and you to find out" He responded adding a wink at the end.

"I still need to talk to her father and your dad um, because I'm not sure if she is a full wolf yet and also, we don't want you to spoil the surprise now do we?" he was really nervous and distracted as he finished his statement. I don't understand why he is so distracted; it couldn't be because of me could it?

OH MY GOD HE HAS A FREAKING MATE ALREADY GET THAT THOURGH YOUR THICK SKULL!!!

"Well I'll leave so you guys can talk then. Congratulations Harry, she's a lucky girl" As I started to walk out when he calls out "I'm the lucky one" and winks at me I try not to cry and blush, let's just say I bolted out of the room faster than ever before.

Harry's Pov,

I have no idea how to phrase all of this, I will just have to tell him privately in hopes that she can't hear us. Let's just hope I make it out of this alive!

"Sir, do you think we can discuss this somewhere more private? I don't really want to risk anyone hearing." I ask trying to keep my voice from shaking. I mean don't get me wrong I'm not a wimp! But when you find out that your mates father is the Alpha or the strongest pack in the United States it's a bit intimidating.

"Oh, of course come on we can go up to my office. Follow me" We both got up and headed upstairs. As we were we passed a room which I assume belongs to Krista because of the smell, Marcus starts going crazy!

"Mate!! Go to mate claim her as our, mark her so everyone knows who she belongs too!!"

I had to ignore the urge which is super hard considering I'm an Alpha. Once we find our mates the pull is so intense it hurts to be without them if you haven't marked them. I just kept following Alpha Mayfield until we got to a set of French doors which I assumed led to his office.

My assumption was confirmed as he opened them and walked in taking a seat behind a huge desk in the middle of the room.

" So, Harry you mentioned that you weren't sure if your mate was of age yet. Do you know her name? I can look her up in the packs database and then take you to the right place."

I didn't know how to say it, so I kind of just blurted it out.

"KRISTA'S MY MATE!" My breathing heavy and eyes wide as I waited for his reaction. The look on his face was pure shock which then turned into one of fury.

" WHAT?! When did you find this out?!" He screamed back at me, face turning red in anger.

"Sir please calm down, I found out that she was my mate yesterday and I only just found out she was your daughter a minute ago I swear! Had I known who she was, I would have come and spoken to you sooner. " I was scared to say the least. I didn't want to be disrespectful but I also wasn't going to be a coward. I knew what I wanted and that was MY mate, my other half, something that was mine and was made for me just like I was made for her!

"Well you can't tell her that you're her mate!" ... Who the fuck does he think he is? I mean yeah, he's her father and I want him to accept me, I would like to have if approval. But I don't give a shit if he is the most powerful Alpha around, he has no right to say I couldn't be with my mate! I decided it was time to give him a piece of my mind. I don't fucking care if I die, I wasn't going down without a fight!

"Well why the fuck not?!?! I have a right to be with my mate. I don't care if you're the bloody alpha or her father you can't stop me!! You were the one who invited me onto your land so I could find the person that the Moon Goddess created to complete me, And you want to deprive me of that? Deprive your daughter from being with her mate!? " I was really fucking pissed off he has no right to make that decision.

I was trying to calm myself down I could tell that Marcus wanted to take control, I'm sure that my eyes were pitch black right now. If I didn't calm down, he would take over control and there is no telling what he would do.

"Oh Harry, calm the hell down would you! I give you my blessing. I couldn't think of anyone who would be a better fit for my little girl than you." He said helping to calm my anger.

"It's just if you go and tell her now, she won't be able to experience the thrill of finding her mate. The experience of seeking out your smell, locking eyes for the first time and knowing that your hers. I mean I can already see that she is attracted to you, and by the look on her face when I said you had found your mate showed that she is somewhat feeling the effects of the mate bond" He continued.

I could understand what he was saying but I was still confused.

"So what do you expect me to do? I wont be able to hold my wolf or feelings back forever." I told him slightly irritated.

"You don't have to wait forever; you just have to wait two more days. On her birthday she will have her first shift, then she will be able to seek out her mate and you guys can be together. You'll come to her party, heck you and your friends are like a group that sings right? You guys can play at her party." I had calmed down tremendously, still irritated but calm.

Let me just say...

This is going to be the longest two days of my life!!

Krista's Pov,

After I left the living room, I bolted up the stairs taking them two at a time. I opened my door and slammed it closed locking it and flopping down face first onto my bed.

All I could think about was Harry and his mate, who wasn't me. I have this pit in my stomach. The thought of him with someone who isn't me making me nauseous which made no sense to me. I should be happy for him; he has been looking for his mate for eight years and he finally found her! I'm going to start looking for my mate in two days so it shouldn't affect me, I should be focusing on my own mate.

But the thought of Harry and I not being a possibility makes me not want to have a mate. How am I supposed to be seeing him with someone who isn't me? Act like seeing him show affection to another doesn't make me sick? Why do I feel like this?

Is this normal? Why did he have to stumble into my life and make it so difficult?! Why did he have to come and make me like him? I shouldn't be feeling these things for a mated male who isn't mine! I don't understand why he would flirt with me if he had a mate? Maybe Ashlyn was right, maybe he is a player. Maybe he thought that I would be easy, Fall for him just because he's super hot and I'm a nerdy, insecure girl.

I mean I guess in a way that was true, that is what is happening, but I was going to put a stop to this! For the next day and a half, I was going to avoid Harry as much as possible and then once I shift and find my mate I won't even care about, I'll be too focused on my mate and my Luna training starting.

This starts now. I got up from my bed, deciding that I've spent too much time and energy on the god like man that is Harry Styles. I walked to my bathroom turning on my bath faucet and dumped in my strawberry bubble bath, I needed to relax and not think of him!

After shedding my outfit from the day and stepping in. Breathing out a relieved sigh, this is just what I needed. All my tense muscles relaxing, loosening. Sinking into the water deeper, I slowly started drifting into a dreamless sleep.

********************************** 20 Minutes Later *******************************

There was a knock on my bathroom door, my Mother waking me up from my relaxed sleep. My water has gone cold, my fingers and toes are all pruned from the exposure to the wet environment. I pulled the plug, and stepped out of the tub onto my soft bathmat.

Changing into my pajamas and heading down to eat. Picking at my food until I couldn't eat anymore, the pit in my stomach coming back full force. I decided I have had enough of the awful day I retired to my room for the evening. After turning on Netflix and finding "Pretty Little Liars" I curled up in my comfy bed full of fluffy pillow and soft blankets. Eventually falling into a thrilling dream that may or may not have involved a certain green-eyed man.

*****Krista's Room****

#harry styles imagine #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #liam payne #niall horan #louis tomlinson #werewolves #soul mates

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years ago

Text

Face Off || Morgan & Cece

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @thebickedwitchoftherest & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan and Cece go digging for buried witchy treasure. Cece faces more than she bargained for.

CONTAINS: gun (salt rounds, not fired), shenanigans

Blanche had told Morgan that having an object, especially one belonging to the spirit in life, might help the seance go better. Morgan knew from the summoning that bones would probably be the most ideal if there was such a thing, but the idea of planning a trip to Texas ahead of the one she had already scheduled between the anniversaries of her parents’ deaths was more than she could bear. The next best thing? Finding Agnes Bachman’s trove of witchcraft. “So, fun fact, I actually tried to dig this up before, but I got attacked by some wild vampires and had to hole up in that shack until dawn,” she said, looking over her shoulder at Cece. “But that’s why we’re coming back here in broad daylight! Besides, I think this is still sort of on my property line?” She gestured to the pile of rubble around across the street and the brown, barren field between it and where they stood in the Bend, shovels in hand, beneath a suspiciously robust tree. Morgan tried to run the distance measurements in her head. “Maybe not, but that’s gonna be our story if anyone comes asking. But, you know, probably not.” She stuck the shovel into the ground with her foot, pleasantly surprised when it broke the ground with ease. Zombie strength had its advantages sometimes. “So, how’ve you been?”

Drinking and researching a stolen box with Morgan? A-okay. Breaking into a woman’s home to steals some books? Great time. But Cece might have to draw the line at the physical labor. It wasn’t the trespassing on property or potential danger. It wasn’t even the casual mention of vampires attacking Morgan the last time she was here. It was mostly just the digging that Cece wasn’t up for. “We tend to break the law whenever we hang out now,” Cece mentioned, digging her own shovel into the ground and leaning against it, “Not complaining. Just a fun observation. Girls really do just want to have fun apparently.” While digging holes wasn’t one of those things that Cece considered to be much fun, the promise of some sort of buried treasure had certainly piqued her interest. “Aside from the whole being blown up in a Morgue thing, worse than that is dealing with Regan’s replacement.” Cece made fake vomiting noises for far longer than necessary and then forced herself to recompose, “Otherwise I am freaking phenomenal. Clearly you’re living your best life. Loving the Holes vibes that we have going on. So what exactly are we here for today?”

“I heard about that,” Morgan said, wincing. “Regan’s just having a time and a half right now. Hopefully it’ll just, you know, be temporary. Haven’t heard any stories about the new boss, though. Is he, what? Evil? Creepy? Mean? What’s the likelihood of your being able to hex him without him noticing? I put a monkey’s paw on Eye of Newt for a little while, and that was pretty fun.” She reached into her bag and passed Cece a thermos of mulled cider. She could see how, well, not well her share of the digging was going, and aside from the magic ability and know how to work on identifying their finds, Morgan had mostly asked her along for the company. “Here. Have some of this and sit back, I think it only takes one gal to dig a hole. When she’s dead anyway.” Morgan stuck her shovel in deeper, flinging dirt behind her. “And we’re after great great grandma Agnes’ trove of magic. She left home with one bag after the curse started taking her family, which means everything in her trove got left behind in good ol’ White Crest.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Mostly, I want something special of hers for a seance, but it’s gonna be pretty neat to see what kind of stuff she used for her magic back in olden times, right?”

“No, god, even worse.” Cece rolled her eyes. Rickers was the last thing she needed to talk about. “I can handle evil or creepy. He’s way too personable. Keeps telling me about his grandkids. It’s insufferable.” Usually, Cece welcomed casual conversation of any kind. She was a social creature after all, she liked the company of others. But something about that man made her want to jump into a river. “I could hex him so easily. He’s so gullible. Moron.” She wasn’t about to let Rickers ruin the fun though, and instead focused on Morgan’s time with Eye of Newt, “Amazing. I love being friends. Do I mention that enough?” Cece questioned, taking the thermos that Morgan passed over and taking a long sip of the alcoholic beverage. “So you’re saying you just want me to sit back, drink and chat? You get me, Morgan.” Cece happily obliged, leaning back against the grass and watching Morgan use that superhuman strength to dig holes deeper into the ground with a certain fascination. She had always wondered what having super strength must be like. Sounded dope. “Good ol Gram? Let’s hope she left behind something fun. Can’t say that I’d be thrilled about finding some magically glued dentures or alchemical ointment for her joint pain.”

“I love being friends with you too,” Morgan said, smiling bright. There was a certain specific ease with Cece that was hard to articulate to others. Their magic philosophy was different, but neither of them took themselves so seriously that it was a problem. And sharing a lack of compunctions about the law and uses of violence to get out of tight spaces was more important between friends who wanted to stay honest with each other. Morgan wasn’t even sure if Cece had a judgemental bone in her body, except for, you know, reckless cruelty like any halfway decent not-fae. But Morgan’s harm ritual wasn’t reckless. She was full of very specific intent, and every care was being taken. And giving Agnes closure with the news she was deviating the woman who’d condemned her to a painful death? Made for some very thoughtful icing on the cake. “Oh, it gets better than that,” Morgan said, grinning as she shoveled back more dirt. “She was just in her twenties when she left home. So this should hopefully have all the fun shit. Well, whatever fun amounted to in the 1890’s. Maybe it’ll be magic ointment for that poofy old-timey hair. Or old beauty charms? I’d love to see what baby witches got up to back then, like what was magic education even like then?”

Cece liked thinking about witches throughout the years. There was something fascinating about studying how witches evolved with the rest of the times, as well as how spells did. If spellcasters were ever a legitimate field of study, Cece might actually consider going back to school. For now, she’d have to settle through learning about magic through any witches she knew with a long line of witches in her family. “Great question. Can’t say that my witchy upbringing was exactly conventional. If my parents were spellcasters, being adopted didn’t exactly help me learn about it as a kid.” Cece had of course wondered what life might have been like had she actually grown up learning about magic from a young age. “My first exposure was from a coven. A very non-traditional one.”

“Your coven wasn’t with your parents?” Morgan asked curiously. She’d heard them mentioned in passing enough times that she’d just assumed it was at least partially a family thing. Morgan started digging, stopped, and looked at Cece quizzically again. “Wait, so you are this good without having to study your whole life?” She shovelled a few more times. “Jeez, are you some kind of magic prodigy?” She had a decent sized hole going. A few more feet deeper and she’s start spreading outward and--clang! Morgan grinned. “I guess this means you get to pick a prize from grandma’s treasure box. At least something in here should go to someone who can actually use it. But holy shit, Cece. I know I say this a lot when you’re doing me favors, but you’re seriously amazing.” She started working double time until the trunk, just as impressive as you would expect from your average 19th century well-to-do family. Morgan pulled it free just with brute zombie strength and dragged it up from the hole. It was heavy, “Now, before I literally jinx myself, do you think you can run something on this baby to dispel any magic seals and protection? As my ancestor, I’m fairly confident she wouldn’t throw this in the ground without protections.”

Cece shook her head, “Nope. My adopted parents had no clue about my witchy background. I didn’t figure out until like sixteen.” Cece shrugged. She had never considered herself to be uncommonly talented when it came to magic. She was aware that she was able to take care of herself under stressful circumstances but the thought never went much further than that. “Very funny,” Cece let out a sarcastic laugh, “I’m hardly a prodigy. The nice thing about moving around with a travelling coven is that I got to learn from all kinds of witches that specialized in different things. Plus being around nothing but other witches all the time gave me lots of chances to practice.” Morgan finally found the box she had been digging for and pulled it easily from the ground. It landed on the grass with a loud thud and Cece whistled, “Damn girl, those muscles though.” Cece sat up and eyed the box. It was larger than Cece thought it was going to be. Honestly, she was pretty curious about what was inside. “Let me take a peak and see what I can sniff out” Cece rubbed her hands together and crawled over to the box, rubbing her palm across it and feeling the magical energy emanating from it. “There’s definitely something going on here. Give me a few minutes to try to get rid of it.”

Morgan was familiar with the number of ways you could talk small magic into showing itself. In another life, her old life, she would’ve offered some ground thistle and raw energy to do it herself. But Cece had a home brew with the stuff she needed. A little Latin later, the potion absorbed into the wood, and the lock, apparently just an illusion, disappeared from sight. “I know you’re not a coven gal anymore, Cece, but I’d do you a solid anytime if you asked.” Out of habit, fae promise, rose to her lips, casual and earnest, but somewhere on its way up her throat, Morgan remembered Chloe in Lydia’s basement and swallowed her words back down, feeling sick.

A layer of dry flowers and fragrant herbs coated the items. Morgan had to sweep them all away to get to the rest. There were some things she expected, such as a handwritten grimoire, and some she didn’t, like an old party dress and petticoats. Morgan didn’t know anything about enchanting textiles, but she set them carefully aside just in case. They must have mattered to Agnes in order to be included in her trove. Beneath this were more papers, some torn from other books, ink and fountain pens, a few alchemical circles painted crudely on tanned hides, and a lot of jewelry and talismans. “So, she’s my great great grandma, so I get the pretty dress and the books, but you, my wonderful partner in crime, can pick something you like from the rest. I still haven’t thanked you for helping me go against that murder alchemist, so don’t be shy.”

As Morgan looked through the chest, Cece eyed the contents from far away. The chest’s magic had been strong, so it made sense to think that whatever was inside had been valuable to her grandmother. As far as Cece was concerned, that all belonged to Morgan. But aside from a few off limits items, Morgan seemed to think otherwise. “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure you could find some use for them. Somewhere.” But even as she said the words she slid closer to get a better peak at the contents. She pulled out a few things, including a vial of liquid that glowed a bright red color, “Hm. This is peculiar” Cece questioned, holding it up against the sun. She felt a prickling against her fingertips from holding the bottle. She eventually decided to uncap the thing, sniffing at its contents and jolting from the sudden sensation. “Hm. That shit is strong. Wonder what this stuff does?”

Morgan was flipping through the books, unable to resist the urge to find something interesting. She had to remind herself that it was all useless to her, pure sentimental and academic value, but even the method of preserving alchemical circles was fascinating. What did they use the hides for? Practice? Regular exercise? Were there research experiments in here like what Ruth had done? There were notes and letters in here too, some written in a kind of code, others in Latin. Looking at all of this, Morgan realized she didn’t actually know Agnes Bachman at all. She was the family scapegoat, but she was also just a girl when she left all this stuff behind, too terrified of being the cause of her family’s suffering to stay another year. Poor thing, she didn’t realize that Constance had covered them all. She hadn’t needed to make herself alone on top of everything else. “What did you find? Anything good?” She looked over her shoulder and— “What the fuck, who the hell are you!” She fell back with shock and fumbled for her salt pistol, aiming it at the stranger. Morgan hadn’t even heard her approach. It had to look enough like a normal one to keep the stranger stalking them on her toes, right? “Where’s my friend? What is—Cece! Cece!”

Bored with whatever the liquid was, Cece discarded it back into the pile of unclaimed goodies and moved on to see what else Agnes had to offer. Cece realized that aside from the fact that they had been spellcasters and the curse, she didn’t know all that much about Morgan’s family. Learning a bit about her family through these belongings was more interesting than Cece would be willing to admit without a few drinks. Way too sentimental. She heard Morgan from over her shoulder and didn’t even look back as she began answering, “I don’t know what a lot of it is actually. I’ll need to do some-” she was cut off by her friend’s scream. Morgan was freaking out, tumbling backwards and pulling a fucking gun on her? “What the fuck Morgan? What do you mean who am I? Why do you have a gun pointed at me!” Cece waved her hands wildly, half up in the air in surrender and half accusingly towards Morgan. “Your friend is right here, wondering if she’s about to get capped by a dead girl! You suddenly lose vision or something?”

Morgan scrambled to her feet, still holding out the salt pistol with trembling hands. The woman was middle aged, wild eyed, and a heck of a lot taller than Cece had ever been. She wasn’t sure where she got off trying to pretend they were one and the same. Her angular features had none of Cece’s stubborn charm. They gave the woman a look that was off-kilter even unnerving as she waved her arms around and cried out in her raspy voice. “I am not kidding, whatever magic bullshit you did, some summoning trick, o-or—I don’t know! But you aren’t keeping her!” Morgan shouted I am not losing one more friend to my personal bullshit, you got it? You—” It came on her slowly: the woman’s clothes looked a little like Cece’s but also...not. And she had Cece’s keychain, and there was a bottle at her feet, not quite close right, dripping slowly into the ground. Morgan slowly lowered her pistol, not quite ready to give up the pretense. “If you’re really Cece, then how do we know each other?” She asked.

Something was wrong. Whether that something was with Morgan or with Cece herself was still unclear. Cece stood up, Morgan backing away again but not moving the pistol from it’s target. “Can you point the gun away from me? This isn’t the Wild West.” Though something was clearly off, Cece hadn’t pieced it together yet. For whatever reason, Morgan seemed to think Cece wasn’t who she claimed to be. Was there some illusion? Cece stared at her hands, vaguely aware that something seemed different but realizing that she didn’t look at her hands enough to realize what the difference might be anyways. “How do we know each other? I didn’t know I was signing up for a pop quiz tonight.” Cece laughed, but clearly Morgan wasn’t joking, “Former roomies, forever besties, current hostage.” Cece quipped, “Care to tell me what the hell is going on?”

Morgan lowered the salt pistol, her face melting, touched. “Aw, you consider us besties?” Her face twisted into an expression of cringe. On Cece, that was endearing. On a crazed woman who looked like she was nearing fifty, it was a little...odd. Maybe sad. Morgan tried to find the words to explain to her friend how bewildering this looked from her perspective. Whose face was this? How did Cece change her face and not...know. “Okay, okay…” she started, tucking her pistol away. “Uh, fun fact, the pistol is salt rounds only. I just, you know, couldn’t be too careful. Also: what happened to your face! I said you could take something home, not give yourself a weird makeover!” She fumbled for her phone, still keeping her distance in case this was all a trick and she was just being stupid and gullible. “You did something!” She put the selfie camera on and held it out for Maybe-Cece to see. “A very, very weird something! Are you...mind or body swapped? Are you glamoured into one of my dead relatives? You aren’t really...I mean, look! What would you think if you were me!”

“Of course I do. There’s not many others I’ve broken into a house and been held at gunpoint at!” Despite the awkwardness of currently being held at gunpoint, Cece couldn’t stop the lilt in her voice as she confirmed that the two were basically besties. They had been through quite a bit considering they hadn’t known each other at the beginning of the year. “Well I actually do feel marginally better knowing I would have only gotten blasted with salt. Thank god I’m not a ghost.” Cece laughed, taking steps closer to Morgan following the whole debacle. “I didn’t do anything! Just rooted around in your grandma’s chest and-” Cece stopped talking when Morgan offered her phone camera towards her and Cece got a look at who was showing up on the screen. Except this was very clearly not Cece. “What the fuck?” Cece jumped back, visibly shaken for the first in what felt like a truly long time. “Who the fuck am I? Why the fuck do I look like this?” Cece began rubbing her hands against her arms, chanting a dispelling glamour effect to herself and then looked back at the camera. Nothing. “Why isn’t it going away!?”

Morgan’s face quirked into a smile. She wasn’t as vulnerable or demonstrative with Cece as she knew she could’ve tried to be. Cece was just so breathtakingly together and at ease with whatever chaos came her way, like it was no more than a fly she could spike out of her sphere with a swipe of her hand. However much she accepted the mess Morgan dragged them into, Morgan worried the limit of ‘too much’ was just around the corner. But here they were, standing over a hole in the middle of the woods with a salt pistol and dug up treasures and a haywire spell between them—and still friends. “Ghost, creepy middle aged lady, whatever comes next, I’m still glad we’re friends,” Morgan said.

But, obviously, Cece being her friend as Cece was probably best. “Idea one: this is some weird subconscious thing and you’ve got some stuff about your age or your size to deal with. Idea two: you are wearing the face of one of my dead relatives, or their neighbors, or...something. But either way, there’s a solution! We just don’t know it yet. But we will and you will look...w-well, you don’t look bad, really, when you, uh, think about it, but just more...you.” She winced and came around the side of the hole to offer Cece a hug.

Morgan offered a list of options to Cece, who hated all of them. “Definitely not subconscious. I accepted my height many years ago.” Cece waved the first away but backtracked, “That being said. I get that objectively I’m not that tall still but I do feel like a tall glass or water.” The second option seemed likely. Perhaps it was a type of hex that was put on something she had touched by Morgan’s grandma. If that was the case it was some bullshit hex. “Well either it’s a strong ass hex or some new type of magic I haven’t worked with before.” That frustrated Cece more than the hex itself. She could handle looking like this Milf. What she didn’t like was not knowing how to fix it immediately. Morgan came around for a hug and as their arms wrapped around each other Cece smiled, “You know we’re kind of like the same height now.”

“You do have the energy of a tall woman, I guess it’s just a little closer to being official now,” Morgan said with a smirk. “You’ve got, what, a whole inch on me now?” She raised her hand to touch the top of Cece’s head, fluffing some of the brown hair falling in front of her face. “Stars, if you are wearing one of my ancestors’ faces, does this make you like a temporary cousin? Temporary grandma?” She smirked at the idea. “Sorry. Let’s take everything and hit the books at your place, huh? Do some old fashioned trial and error experimenting. Whatever’s going on, we’ll figure it out.”

Though her head was still spinning at the prospect of looking twice her actual age, Cece tried to compose herself. This had been the most flustered she had allowed herself to be for many, many years. She had no interest in completely losing her cool. Morgan was right, they would fix this. Eventually. Maybe it had a time limit, and Cece would simply wake up in a day or two back to her old, blonde self. In the meantime, how was she supposed to explain this to her roommates? “That’s a good start. Whatever’s going on, I clearly don’t have nearly enough alcohol in my system to deal with it.” Right about now Cece was sure that she had far too much blood in her alcohol system. Depending on how long this lasted, it might be time for a never ending party. “I like to think I just became your cool aunt. I think the moniker suits me.”

#wr cece #wr chatzy #wr cece chatzy #face off #gun tw #wickedswriting

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mustardyellowanti · 3 years ago

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II.

Sebastian Oh EHS

Sebastian Oh

Senior Year - Late January

---

Sebastian nodded mindlessly as one of the guys from the basketball team talked. he had no idea what he was o about anymore, he was sure he heard junior and girl’s dorm, but his attention was drawn down the hall where his former best friend and whatever the hell she was to him stood side by side, she was laughing at something he said. Seb tried to ignore the pit in his stomach, he shouldn’t care - he didn’t care.

“OH Sebastian,” Noah’s teasing voice rang out down the halls of Elite Way HS, a much needed and very welcomed distraction. He turned to see Noah pushing his way through the crowds. Sebastian moved away from his team member muttering a yeah sure hoping he hadn’t agreed to something he’d regret. “Oh a sweaty smelly Sebastian - wonderful,” Noah said wrapping an arm around Sebastian’s shoulders.

“You are truly living the dream,” Sebastian said with a laugh as Noah rolled his eyes pulling away. “Is there a reason you called for me or did you just miss my company?” Seb asked.

“Well, it has been a little lonely since you moved out,” Noah shrugged. “But really, i feel like i hardly see you anymore, at least not on your own,” he said, the implied without Maia was clear. “So i figured I’d ask when the official custody papers are coming in?” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “I mean if i am going to be splitting my time between you and Th-” Sebastian sucked in a breath, jaw clenching at the almost mention of that person, luckily Noah wasn’t as aloof as he presented and stopped. “This is what i mean - I can’t even mention his name without you going all -’ he said gesturing wildly. “So if i am going to be a child of divorce again i would like a proper schedule, you know for my wellbeing,” he said with a faux pout bringing a hand to his chest.

“Your heart’s on the other side,” Sebastian snorted as Noah’s face fell, a muttered yeah yeah escaping his lips as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket stopping near a group of freshmen who conveniently had a lighter. “And fine, have his lawyers talk to mine, they can figure out the custody agreement.”

“Or you could just talk to each other, i could mediate you know,” he said. Sebastian quirked an eyebrow wondering if this was the hill Noah really wanted to die on. Seb thought he was been pretty fair, he was mature enough to know better than pushing Noah to choose a side, he just didn’t want to talk about certain people when they hung out. “Or not,” Noah said with an eye-roll taking a drag. “So where are you heading now? Think you can hang out with me or will someone else get mad she doesn’t have your undivided attention?“

“There would be a lot of ‘she’s that would be mad about not having my undivided attention but i am going to assume you mean Maia? She is studying with her friends so i guess i can slum it with you,” Sebastian nudging him in the side.

“Are you sure she isn’t lying to you?” Noah said with a laugh as Seb stiffened, just what he needed more people lying to him. “I mean Maia and friends?” he continued as Seb shook his head, rolling his eyes at Noah’s over dramatics. Maia was the most sociable person, she was a little judgemental, to say the least but Sebastian was beginning maybe she was onto something by not having many friends, fewer people to inevitably let you down in the end.

“Sebastian.”

“Speak off the devil,” Noah muttered under his breathe shaking his head and taking a step away from Sebastian.

“Hey,” Maia said instantly pressing into Sebastian’s side. “Noah,” she said turning to him a barely concealed look of annoyance on her face. “What are you two talking about?” she said eyes narrowing as she looked between them.

“Friends -” Sebastian said watching as Noah squirmed uncomfortably.

“Yes the show from the ’90s, Ross and Rachel you know?” he said quickly. “Anyway i gotta go,” he said quickly, “See you later,” he muttered, awkwardly shuffling down the hall.

“I get the feeling he doesn’t like me very much,’ Maia said face turning down into a frown. “Have i done something to him?” she questioned.

“Nah,” Sebastian said wrapping an arm around Maia’s shoulders. “Noah likes you plenty,” Sebastian lied. “He is just jealous that you get all my time and he doesn’t,” he said kissing the top of her head.

“If you say so,” Maia hummed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t like me all things considered,” she said, her eyes glancing down the hallway towards them. “It’s going to be weird for him,” she said looking down.

“Maybe but he can handle it himself,” Sebastian said starting to move, he had been standing in this hallway for far too long. “So what happened with studying? Did Si-?” he started to change the topic before realizing he doesn’t know her friend’s name. “Sierra?” he offered as Maia turned to him rolling her eyes.

“Do you perhaps mean Simone?” Maia teased. “And she had to flake, she has something else on,” she shrugged. “So i will be studying all by myself unless someone wants to come with me,” she said to Sebastian. Sebastian’s nose scrunched up, he had a feeling Maia meant to actual study which was not something Sebastian wanted to do, he wasn’t going to do any unnecessary studying.

“And i take it from your face that is a no,” Maia laughed. “I was just thinking maybe we should fill in our college applications,” she said. “You know so we can make sure we end up at the same school,” she continued as Sebastian paused mid-step. College.

“Ah right, when does that have to be in?” Sebastian asked. He knew college was coming up soon, how could he not, majority of his Christmas break had been discussing his future, and by discussing he meant everyone but himself talking about his future.

“Seb, please tell me you are joking?” Maia said with a laugh. “Okay no you are serious,” she said shaking her head. “What am i going to do with you?” she said.

“Well i have a list of things you can do with me if you want to listen,” Sebastian joked.

“Hmmm sounds like an interesting list,” Maia grinned. “But this is pretty important, how about i figure it out for us,” she said. “Are there any colleges that are a definite no for you?”

“Uhm not really?” Seb said scratching the back of his neck feeling uncomfortable with how this conversation continuing. “I-” he said tapping his fingers against his knees. “I actually have to go, my grandfather has practically forced me to check in on my stupid cousin, apparently she is depressed or something.” he shrugged, while the majority of it was a lie, he thought Harper been depressed would be believable - he felt depressed after been around her so he could only imagine how depressing it was to be her.

“Harper? I thought you can’t stand her?” Maia asked eyebrow cocking up in confusion. “You shouldn’t have to look after her.”

“Oh i know but if i check on her, she’ll know that i know and she will hate it,” Sebastian grinned, even if it wasn’t true thinking of ruining Harper’s day did make him happy.

“Okay, well if you are sure -” Maia frowned.

“I’ll just do this real quick and come meet you after,” Sebastian said kissing Maia’s cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he said squeezing her arm before moving down the hall heading towards the girls dorms.

“Are you lost?” was how Harper greeted Sebastian, standing in the doorway with a scowl on her face. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello Harper, always so nice to see you,” Sebastian said dryly rolling his eyes. “I was just in the neighbourhood,” he said sarcastically.

“Is that Sebastian?” Sophia called out. “Harper stop been mean to your cousin, he is going through things,” she continued.

Sebastian looked at Harper with an eyebrow raised as he wondered what exactly Harper has been telling this girl. It was bad enough that she was a scholarship student now she had Harper as a friend. Perhaps he should donate to this girl or the institution she will surely end up in, after all, she had to be crazy to tolerate his cousin.

“She is talking about the very public reveal that An-” Harper said as Sebastian coughed loudly cutting her off.

“You should do what Sophia says Harper, don’t you know i am vulnerable right now?” Sebastian said mockingly pushing past Harper and going into the girls rather modest two-bedroom dorm.

“How quaint,” he said before spotting Sophia who was sitting in front of her modest vanity. “Going somewhere?” he asked her curious as to why the normally plain-looking girl had swapped her standard uniform out for something a little more form-fitting and she ditched the all-natural look for lightly curled hair and just a small amount of makeup.

“She doesn’t have to answer you,” Harper snapped. “What she is or isn’t doing is none of your business,” she said pushing Sebastian along. “Sit,” she said gesturing to a desk chair.

“Harper stop been mean,” Sophie said turning around. “It’s not a big deal, I am going on a date,” she said.

“Oh with that Connor guy?” Sebastian asked, he heard briefly from Harper about this guy, barely comes from a new money family, acts above his rank and apparently has a thing for virgins. The word tacky seemed to come to Sebastian’s mind but who is he to judge who people date.

“Ew no Sebastian, some people actually understand the whole bro-code,’ Harper said as Sebastian glared at her, how dare she. “And her boyfriend doesn’t go here so you wouldn’t know him,” Harper shrugged as she sat down. “Did you come here to gossip about other people’s relationships because every personal relationship you ever had has now been burnt into a crisp?” she said raising an eyebrow. Sebastian dug his fingers into his thighs as a strangled growl escaped his lips

“Aww Harper even if that were true i still have grandfather’s unconditional love - can you say the same?” Sebastian said sweetly as Harper flipped him the bird. “And does he go to Beau Soleil? Le Rosey?” Sebastian asked turning his attention to Sophia.

“Oh no,” she said shyly. “He goes to a public school actually,” she said. Sebastian blinked at her taking in what she said before turning back to Harper with a look of confusion.

Harper just shrugged. “I don’t know what she is doing either, apparently when people fall in love they forget what standards are,” she said. “He works at a shop,” she said not even attempting to hide her judgement. Sebastian nodded. How charming.

“Like a luxury goods shop? That is cool a little entrepreneurship is always good,” Sebastian said as Harper shook her head. Sebastian frowned, he thought he was been nice. Small shops can become big business - eventually. Harper mouthed the word grocery to Seb and his nose wrinkled.

“You know you can really tell you two are related sometimes like right now, your faces are almost identical when you are judging someone you don’t know,” Sophia said as she stood up. Sebastian gawked at her, whatever nice things Sebastian has said about this girl were now completely retracted. “It’s time i get going, are you two going to be okay here?” she asked tilting her head to the side.

“I’ll be nice i promise,” Harper said with an eye-roll. “As nice as i can be with this one,” she said. Sophia seemed satisfied with the answer leaving with a wave.

“So why are you really here Sebastian?” Harper turned to him with an eyebrow raised. “Please don’t tell me you are hiding from Theo again, just deal with your break-up already,” Harper said rolling her eyes. “It’s honestly a little concerning, I gave your Christmas but if you keep this up I am going to have a conversation with your mother,” she continued as Sebastian glared at her. He wondered if she kept bringing up Theo to get back at him or because she truly didn’t care? With her, it could be either option.

“I am not here because of that person,” Sebastian spat as Harper snorted a muttered yeah sure escaping her lips. “And i have dealt with that issue,” he added as Harper scoffed.

“Look crab boy something has you hiding in here so if it isn’t your former bestie it must be the peak of your love triangle so -” she said gesturing for Sebastian to continue.

“It isn’t about her either, I have moved on from that mess,” He said. “You know you are so lucky no one here wants to date you,” Sebastian said as Harper rolled her eyes sitting back down on her bed. “I just needed a break because my girlfriend is moving a little fast -”

“Oh you mean your rebound actually thinks that you two are like a real thing,” Harper laughed. “And as much as it pains me to say this you are right i am lucky, have you seen the losers that go to this school?”

“She is not a rebound,” Sebastian said. Harper snorted dismissively clearly not believing him at all. “And sure the guys are the losers, not you, I’d laugh if you end up marrying one of them,” he said smirking at the look of disgust that came across Harper’s face.

“Don’t be disgusting Oh,” she said. “And yes Maia is a rebound, Seb, the quicker you can accept that the better it would be, but I’ll play along, how is she moving too fast for you Sebastian?”

“You, as always, are wrong,” Sebastian huffed. “And she is talking about what college we are going to,” Sebastian said nose scrunching up.

“That is barely a problem Sebastian, just say you are going to whatever school Grandfather picks for you, I mean it’s pretty much the truth right?” Harper said looking at him curiously. “And wow Bauer does move quick, it’s almost admirable how delusional she is,” Harper said shaking her head. Sebastian glared as Harper rolled her eyes. “Look, Sebastian, let's pretend you really did like Maia for a quick second do you think she will last past the first family meeting? Grandfather would never approve of her, she brings nothing to the table for him to even look at her twice and your mother - she would absolutely hate her, a girl who capitalizes on your worst moments and takes advantage of it?” Harper said as it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“That isn’t true -,”

“Yes it Sebastian,” Harper cut him off. “But you can pretend makes things easier for me,” she shrugged. “Look either tell Maia you aren’t ready to start planning your life around a relationship or tell her just to pick a school, with your connections you’ll get in anyway, not like you have to work for anything,” she said.

“Like you do,” Sebastian scoffed with a frown.

“Fine here is my i will try to be nice to you advise,” Harper sighed. “You can’t move forward in general but especially with your relationships until you deal with Theo and Antonella,” she paused. “Did you really just whine?” a dry laugh escaped her lips. “Figure that out properly, get your closure and then see how you feel about your future with Maia because right now you are just using the girl as a band-aid - even if you aren’t aware you doing it,” she said as Sebastian let out a noise protest. “No come on we both know if you were truly unaffected you’d be whoring yourself out like your normal do with every pretty girl that looks at you not playing couple with the girl you ex hates the most,” she said. “And that is it for my advice -”

“Unhelpful as expected, i should have just asked your roommate what she thought,” Sebastian said standing up.

“Pretty sure she thinks you are an idiot too but she is too nice to say it,” Harper said matter of factly. “Let’s not do this again,”

#story

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runner5ive · 4 years ago

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Tragic Backstory Unlocked

I’ve seen a bunch of people uploading info of their Five's and wanted to write my Five's backstory down too.

This was a lot longer than I planned so I added a before and after doodle of Five and shoved the info below the cut 😅

This has lived in my drafts for time and I was never actually going to upload this but the amount of times I've told people they shouldn't be nervous or anxious about uploading any art or writing because seeing updates from y'all gives me LIFE and I felt like I wasn't taking my own advice. So here you go!

They had changed their name exactly four times before arriving in Abel yet non of them felt quite right. It was completely coincidental that their fifth name would be Five yet it was the only one that ever actually fit.

They grew up in so many foster homes that they can’t even remember all the places they’ve lived.

They were put forward for speech therapy on numerous occasions but Five hated knowing that everyone thought they were broken that they refused to even try.

After a while everyone gave up on the the prospect of them ever speaking.

There was exactly one family they felt truly welcomed into and it destroyed them when they were taken away after two years of living there.

Their real parents were divorced and they saw them occasionally but it was always super awkward and unloving, especially as neither of them bothered learning BSL since they didn’t see Five enough to warrant it.

In the 'flight or fight' response to danger, Five was always flight first.

If they couldn't run away from danger, that's when they'd resort to fighting. Because of this, they weren't the best students as the inability to leave school during the day meant they were almost constantly in scraps.

9 times out of 10 Five would run away from various home as soon as frustrations started to grow.

Because of this they never really finished high school, and didn't even bother with the thought of college or university.

Jobs prospects were pretty poor. They turned to another kid they knew from foster homes who introduced them into a bad crowd. Five worked for them as a petty theif, believing them when they said what they were doing wasn't that bad - they thought it was a Robin Hood scenario.

When they realised it wasn't they were in too deep and couldn't escape.

They were with their biological dad on Day Z, only because they'd been arrested on suspicion of breaking an entering and burlgery, and he'd been called to pick them up from the police station.

When chaos erupted, they used that as an oppertunity to run away from him again, not realising exactly was going on.

Runner Five is like 98% certain both their biological parents survived but does not want to find them at all.

Because Five had no ID on them on Day Z they completely rewrote their identity when they arrived Mullins Military Base (name #4).

Five wasn’t considered for anything other than cleaning duties, because the people who ran Mullins base couldn’t speak BSL and believed communication is key for their soldiers.

Five was/is pretty rubbish at cleaning.

Mullins didn’t know what to do with them at all so they agreed to send them to Abel to get them out of their hair more than anything. They didn't actually think they'd amount to anything.

Five arrives at Abel as an angsty, grouchy baby hardened by life before the apocalypse even started.

They believe they couldn't rely on anyone but themself at first but then they meet everyone at Abel who are stupid, lovable goofballs willing to learn BSL and it helps Five ease up and become the happy goblin baby they truly are.

After about a month living at Abel and being welcomed into Abel's apocalypse family they have a moment of OH SHIT I’VE BEEN ADOPTED!

Really want to draw Five surrounded by their friends with a sign that reads 'Today I was adopted!' like the goofy child they are.

Rajit’s book was the first one they’d ever read and it was so WILD and UNPREDICTABLE that they LOVE IT!

The only reason they start reading more is because people hear that Five’s favourite book is Rajit’s and people are personally offended enough to give them other books to read. There are a lot of incredible books they read but nothing leaves such an impression on them as much as Rajit’s did.

When Five was missing during A Voice in the Dark, Abel had no choice but to report them Missing in Action to Mullins since they were a loan. Five elected not to correct that after they got back since it would mean they might be pulled back to Mullin’s one day and they were happy in Abel.

Five secretly prefers life after the apocalypse than before, and has recurring nightmares that the cure will be found, the need for runners will vanish, and everyone they know will forget about them.

The reason Five still collects things when they're running for their life is because they're a bit superstitious and believe that if they collect something for Abel then it means that they'll survive because now they HAVE to get it back home!

#runner five #runner 5 #zr #zombies run #reference #tragic backstory unlocked

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squidbatts · 5 years ago

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we could stay-

Or: Your name is Kankri Vantas and your father may be out for the night, but a certain wannabe greaser is in

((i challenged myself to rewrite a fic that i wrote in 2013 and this is the result (though this version is mostly makeouts and dry humping while the original was very “chaste kisses and gentle cuddling” but like, that’s what the kids call growth). anyway: humanstuck, not Quite explicit but certainly more than suggestive, so ymmv))

{ao3}

“I’m only going to be gone a couple of hours, alright?” Your father says as he pulls on his coat by the door. You stand straight-backed and nod. Your brother slouches at the foot of the stairs beside you and rolls his eyes.

“Sure,” Karkat says, sarcasm coating his every syllable, “Just text us when you decide you’re staying the night at the Leijons’.”

“I’m not- who even- why would you-?” Your father splutters, flustered. “Listen, that’s none of your business. Anyway,” He says, regaining control of himself, “No parties, no guests, Kankri’s in charge.”

“I take the responsibility incredibly seriously, father,” You say dutifully. Karkat rolls his eyes again, this time with a dramatic full body motion. You ignore him.

“Great. Please don’t destroy the house while I’m gone.” Your father says, as he always does when he goes out on what he refuses to call Date Nights. Karkat mutters something expletive-filled but you merely smile, waving goodbye as your father walks out the door. You continue to stand there, watching through the window as his car starts and pulls off. You watch until it disappears around the corner, then you look down at Karkat.

“All clear,” You say.

Your name is Kankri Vantas and you are in charge for the night.

“Cool, I’m going to my room, don’t fucking bother me,” He says, but you can see that he’s already on his phone. You have no doubt that he’ll be back downstairs welcoming in a gaggle of his little friends in less than half an hour, which means that you have some time to kill. You don't send any texts, but keep your phone close by just in case. You do your homework, eat some of the lasagna that your father prepared for you and your brother, and search through the family movie collection. There are a lot of romcoms.

It is, if you’re being honest, mostly romcoms.

But you knew that before you started looking, because you’ve gone through your family’s movies with almost alarming frequency of late.

Regardless, you pick out a movie, put it into the DVD player, and wait. Eventually, you hear a knock on the door, but before you can open it or call him down, Karkat stomps downstairs, scowling.

“Can you douchenozzles not read a simple fucking text? I said not to knock, jesus fucking christ,” Karkat says.

“Language,” You chide, mostly reflexively, as you walk up. There are five children outside your door, including the youngest Maryam, who is holding a pizza box and avoiding your eye. You wonder how she got her mother to let her out of the house on a school night, but decide it’s very much not your business. Still, you’ll probably text Porrim about it later, just to check.

“Shut the fuck up,” Karkat snaps back, likely also only on reflex. This is a dance you both do often.

“Hi, Karkat’s brother,” One of the kids, a boy in blue, says. You can’t stop your mouth from twitching into a slight frown.

The kids know your name, you know they know your name, and yet they insist on calling you ‘Karkat’s older brother.’

“My name is Kankri,” You say, despite all this.

The boy grins and Karkat snaps out a quick, “Yeah, no, we aren’t fucking doing this tonight,” and ushers the all of them in and up the stairs, shooting a quick, “Text me if dad’s actually coming home,” to you over his shoulder.

You nod, agreeing to your own side of the unspoken Date Night agreement you two have. There’s something of a comradery in breaking this one rule; others you won’t allow, and five friends are pushing the “no party” rule in ways that you’ll detail to Karkat in a thoughtfully crafted note tomorrow, but this one... Well, it has benefits for everyone.

Brother and friends firmly dealt with, you pull out your phone and send a simple text of your own: I am going to be watching a movie tonight while my brother and his friends yell and do whatever else children their age do on weeknights upstairs, as my father has gone out with Ms. Leijon and is likely to return late, if at all.

There’s a brief moment before you get a response, like the person on the other end was sitting in their bedroom, part of their attention dedicated to pretending to know how to play a guitar but mostly just waiting for you to text. got it chief, the reply reads, and a smile flickers across your face. Ten minutes later, you hear the sound of a hot rod roaring past your house and around the corner, gaudy and loud with a royal purple finish. You stand, making your way into the kitchen and opening the back door in time to watch Cronus Ampora trip over your neighbor’s hose and his own untied Chuck Taylors. He recovers easily enough, and saunters the rest of the way between the yards and to your door, hips swinging as his expression melts into a smirk like an ice cube on a stovetop.

“Hey there, doll,” He says as soon as he gets close enough to speak to you quietly. Your face scrunches, but he laughs and cuts you off before you can begin yet another treatise on how calling you doll is rude and embarrassing. “I know, I know, K. Won’t do it again.”

He will, almost certainly. You let him in anyway. You leave him in the living room to call up the stairs, “Karkat, do you want any lasagna?”

It’s a test, both to see if Karkat can hear you from the bottom of the stairs and to see if he’s hungry enough that he’ll want something from down here in the next hour or so.

“Fuck off!” Karkat yells back, over a chorus of laughter. You don’t roll your eyes, because you’re not your brother, but you do add another paragraph to the note -- no, email, it would probably work better as an email rather than a series of post-its on his door by now -- that you’re going to leave him tomorrow. You return to the living room and press play on the movie. You barely even remember what you’ve put in at this point, but you give yourself a moment to stare at the screen as the blonde love interest starts her day and rushes around her office, and to take a deep but subtle breath, before you turn back to Cronus.

Cronus is sprawled upon the couch, one leg spread across all three cushions while the other hangs onto the ground and the rest of his body sags against the arm, barely moving as he boredly scrolls on his phone. He’s shed his leather jacket and wears purposely distressed t-shirt that you know he cut the sleeves off himself. You clear your throat.

“Am I going to be allowed to sit down?” You ask. Cronus smirks and you immediately continue, “If you even begin to offer your lap as an acceptable place to sit-”

“Relax, K, I would never do somethin‘ so -- what’s the word? -- demeaning.”

You raise an eyebrow, begrudgingly impressed. “Yes, demeaning is the right word there.”

Cronus flashes you a shark’s smile as he rearranges himself to take a reasonable amount of space on the couch. “See, I know all my lingo, chief. Talk at a guy enough and anyone can pick up your social justice stuff.”

Your jaw tightens at his words but you make yourself relax. You don’t hang out with Cronus Ampora for his aptitude at activism. You, in fact, don’t hang out with Cronus Ampora at all.

Except for movie nights.

Behind you the movie plays on, and though you’re not watching it, you know what’s happening: a proposed article shot down, a bet and courtside basketball tickets, the consoling of a recently dumped best friend. You’ve seen this one many times, because Karkat and your father have unfortunate affinities for them. You, at least, have the decency to keep misogynistic, predictable, degrading things as a rarely indulged guilty pleasure.

You take a seat beside Cronus. Far enough apart that your bodies do not touch but close enough that you can feel the heat from the arm Cronus has thrown over the back of the couch. You sit, back straight, hands in your lap. You can feel Cronus looking at you. The fingers on your left hand twitch against your pant leg.

“Kankri,” Cronus starts to whine, but you cut him off with a shush.

“I am watching the movie.”

“Is that how we’re gonna play it tonight?” Cronus asks. When you hum in the affirmative, he huffs childishly. You’re surprised that he doesn’t cross his arms and stamp his feet too. “Fine then.”

It’s quiet for a moment, Matthew McConaughey the only voice in the room, before Cronus clears his throat and says, “So, uh, what’s this movie about anyway?”

Your eye twitches. You wish it didn’t but you know it did and you can almost feel the waves of smug glee radiating from Cronus as he shifts ever so slightly closer to you. You hate explaining movies while the movie is playing, but you suppose that since you did make him miss a bit of the beginning, it’s only fair that you help him out.

“She writes how-to articles for a women’s magazine but she wants to do hard investigative reporting, and he’s a marketing executive who’s trying to get a deal to represent a diamond seller,” You explain.

“Alright,” Cronus says, his thigh meeting yours as he leans in, voice pitched low so you can still pay attention to the movie over his questions. “How’d they meet again?”

“The women at his workplace -- they’re both named Judy -- asked him to prove that he understood romance so he could acquire the diamond deal from them, and then tricked him into choosing her as the woman he would ’woo‘.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes!” You exclaim, shoulders rising in annoyance at the lack of attention Cronus is paying to the movie. When they fall again, Cronus’ arm slips over them. “She is trying to sabotage a relationship for her column, so he’d never be able to sincerely start a relationship with her, even if he wasn’t approaching her under false pretenses.”

“Uh-huh, got it. One more question,” Cronus says, voice shockingly close to your ear. You turn and he is- close. Very close. Your breath catches in shock. “How many times have you seen this one?”

“I haven’t-”

“Come on, Vantas, don’t lie to me,” He says, whispers, inching ever closer to you. Your mouth feels suddenly dry and you lick your lips, watching Cronus’ eyes track the movement. “Hey, Kankri?”

“Yes?” You prompt, voice barely a murmur. Cronus’ nose touches yours.

“I really don’t care about this movie.”

What happens next is inevitable. You wish you could say that Cronus kisses you and you’re entirely taken unaware. You wish you could say you don't know who moved first. Unfortunately, you know that it was you who saw the look in Cronus’ eyes, who felt the heat of his body and smelled his ridiculous expensive cologne, and leaned in, unable to keep up an uninterested face any longer. You go to kiss him and Cronus happily meets you, easy and hot and just what you wanted, wonderful enough as he bites at your lip and runs a hand through your hair that you barely even mind that you can feel the smug twist of his mouth against your own. You shift to get closer, to get a better angle to map the shape of his mouth, eventually giving up all decorum and tossing a leg over him to slide into his lap.

“Not a word,” You say.

Cronus raises his hands in surrender though his eyes still flash with mirth. “I’m not the one with the talkin' problem, chief.”

You kiss him again to shut him up. Admittedly, the way he licks into your mouth, how his hands slide over your hips and his fingers edge under your sweater, they’re all enticing, but they’re all particularly nice pluses when the main concern is occupying his mouth with something else. Your pocket buzzes and you think, somewhat vaguely, Oh, my phone. I need to get that.

“One second,” You say, and Cronus immediately starts to whine. You only manage to pull your phone out of your pocket before Cronus decides to switch his energy from whining to paying attention to your neck, taking care to suck and bite only at places that will be under your usual turtleneck’s coverage.

Suddenly, you’re no longer worried about your phone.

It’s fine, You think, dropping your phone to the carpet and shoving a fist into your mouth as Cronus presses an open-mouthed kiss to your jawline, Whatever’s happening can wait. You weave a hand into Cronus’ gel-stiff hair, mussing it as you tug to get Cronus’ mouth back up to yours. Cronus groans, low and needy and cut off as you greedily swallow the sound. From your perch on his lap, you can feel that Cronus’ whole body is very interested in the proceedings; you don’t grind down because that would be undignified, but even a slight shift of your weight is enough to make Cronus’ hips jerk.

“Jesus fucking christ, Kankri,” Cronus gasps into your mouth, “You’re gonna kill me.”

Something like pride fills your chest as something like interest warms your stomach. You shift again. “Am I?”

“Fuck, alright, lemme just,” Cronus starts brokenly before gripping your thighs and easily laying you onto the couch before leaning over you, arms bracketing your head. “This okay?”

You throw a leg around his waist and an arm around his neck, pulling him closer. “I find it perfectly acceptable.”

“I’ll show you ‘acceptable’,” Cronus says with a roll of his eyes before he’s kissing you again, his whole body a warm, shifting weight against your own. When he grinds into the couch, into you, you arch into it, heel digging into the small of his back.

You aren’t sure how long you’re there, kissing and rocking against one another, but eventually you hear a faint rumble over the now-ignored sounds of your movie. It sounds familiar, and something inside you, a part of your mind that’s somehow been able to retain its ability to think about anything but the sensations you’re experiencing now, says Pay attention! You reluctantly shift some of your focus to listening, allowing Cronus to go back to mouthing at your neck; it takes you a moment but you’re able to remember that it’s the sound of a car pulling up to the house. You jolt with shock and horror as you place it even more specifically as the sound of your father’s car.

“Fuck.”

Cronus leans back on his haunches, eyes wide. “Kankri Vantas, did you just curse?”

“Now is not the time,” You reply, pulling him back down and out of view from anyone who might look into your living room windows. “On the floor, now.”

“Are you being bossy now? Is that the move?” Cronus asks, laughing.

You don’t have time to explain or deal with his humor as you see the shadow of your father pass by, so you just shove him off the couch and cut off his grumbling by saying “My father is home.”

Cronus presses himself flatter to the ground. “Oh, fuck.”

“Exactly. Stay down and stay quiet, I can handle this,” You say as the lock turns. Cronus nods and mimes zipping his lips. Your father enters the house.

“Karkat? Kankri? You guys up?” Your father asks, kicking his shoes off. You sit up, hoping you look more sleep-rumpled than hand-mussed.

“Oh, father,” You say, affecting a yawn. “You’re home early.”

“Yeah, Di- er, Ms. Leijon, she felt sick, so we decided to call it a night,” He says. Cronus, from his spot lying completely flat and supposedly still, taps on your knee. Your father is not looking at you, busy removing his shoes and coat, so you entertain Cronus with a glance. He’s pointing at a nearby chair over which he threw his jacket, but you know it’s out of eyeline from the foyer so you shake you head subtly, eyes still on your father, and emphatically gesture something you hope he interprets correctly as stay still. Your father says, “I texted you.”

You think of you phone, on the carpet under Cronus, and curse past Kankri. “Ah. You must’ve sent it after I’d already fallen asleep.”

“It’s bad for your back to sleep down here,” Your father says, muffled as he opens the coat closet. “What were you doing anyway?”

Nothing really, despite my best efforts, thinks a sullen and unnecessary part of your mind. The rest of you clears your throat. “I had just been watching a movie.”

“Which one?”

It takes you a beat longer than it should to remember. It feels like there’s been a millennia of kissing Cronus between you picking out the movie and now. “How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days.”

“Oh, that one! I really-” Your father turns to you finally and pauses for a moment. When he continues, his voice is more disbelieving. “How To Lose A Guy In Ten Days, huh?”

“Yes,” You answer, off-put by his tone. The movie is still playing on the television behind you, so you’re not sure why he’s acting like it’s out of the realm of possibility. Somewhat defensively, you continue, “It’s one of my favorites.”

Cronus doesn’t laugh, because he values his life and is staying quiet, but you can see how he tenses like he’s holding in laughter in your peripheral vision. It takes effort not to scowl at him.

“Mhm. Well, you should probably be getting to bed soon.”

“Will do.” You say, and then you stare at your father with a fixed smile as he watches you with a raised eyebrow. It is the most stressful minute of your life. Eventually, he shakes his head and smiles.

“Alright. Goodnight, Kankri,” Your father says, and you reply in kind. You sink into the couch in relief, sharing a still-panicked we did it look with Cronus.

“Oh, and Kankri?”

You freeze and pop back up at the sound of your father’s voice. He’s not in your eyeline, speaking as he walks up the stairs. “Yes?”

“Next time, make sure that your friend isn’t taller than the couch is long.”

Your eyes dart to the floor and catch on Cronus’ stupid candy cane socks are far past the edge of the couch, where they can definitely be seen from the foyer. “I-”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow, I’m too tired for this right now. Night, kiddo.”

You facepalm, with both hands for good measure. Below you, Cronus whispers, “Sorry.”

“You should just… Go, please. I’ll,” you run a hand down your face, embarrassment quickly overpowering whatever brief bits of relief you felt. “I suppose I’ll text you, after I speak to my father.”

Cronus nods and you help him to his feet. You walk him to the door, at which point he asks, “So… no more movie nights?”

You tighten your jaw so hard that your teeth ache. “Are you seriously thinking about that right now?”

“Yes- No- I mean, okay, yes, I’m wondering about like, this, about hookin’ up and shit, but also, I’m gonna… miss hanging out with you,” Cronus says, looking out into the yard rather than at you, which is good because your face feels hotter than it ever has before and you’re sure you must look ridiculous. “We don’t talk at school, obviously, so this was the only time I got to spend with you in person, y’know.”

“I-” You open and close your mouth in shock. “Cronus-”

“But I’m also gonna miss touching that sweet ass of yours,” Cronus continues, absolutely destroying the mood.

“Go.”

“You’re cute when you’re pissed,” Cronus says. You scowl, but still lean into it when he kisses you goodbye. Everyone has their vices. “See you, doll.”

Your splutters drown out his laughter as he books it for his car. To his retreating back, you hiss, maybe too loud for this time of night but absolutely necessary, “Don’t call me doll!”

#cronkri #kankri vantas #cronus ampora #homestuck #humanstuck #one shot

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