#he's wild today but he's earned it by nature of being born on this day 4 years ago tbh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maddieinwonder · 4 years ago

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The Eighth

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, this is a fluff-only zone!

Word Count: 2.3k

Plot: Reader has been in the BAU for one year and a lot has changed, especially her relationship with a certain genius. (Part 1 here!)

Author's Note: Seriously, I wasn't expecting my first two fics to blow up like that. Just, thank you to everyone who read them ♡♡♡

As for this one... I had to write a Part 2, basically as an excuse for me to write good things about everybody in the BAU and go wild with the backstories hahaha I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

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Under the dim lighting of the BAU jet, your pen paused on the small book beneath it, causing a small blotch of ink to seep through its pages. The words usually flowed out of you without inhibition, but today was different, and frankly, you were feeling a little overwhelmed.

You didn't think the team would remember this, but today marked exactly one year since you joined the BAU. As if the universe were smiling down on you, the week also turned out to be a great one - or at least, as good as it could get around here.

The team had just closed a challenging case with minimal casualties, everyone had been ordered to have a long weekend off, and the person you most wanted to spend it with was dozing off beside you without a care in the world. Of course, he didn’t know about your feelings... yet.

Closing your journal, you gave up on writing as your eyes wandered restlessly toward your sleeping teammates.

Your eyes crinkled into a smile when your gaze landed on Hotch. This was the first time you’d seen him actually asleep on the jet, and in your opinion, he deserved whatever rest he could get. Since you joined the team, you had seen the man endure countless late nights in the office. Something you had quickly attributed to the missing wedding ring on his finger.

Yet, he remained a stalwart to the team. He constantly checked in with everybody, shielded the team from messy politics, and even managed to crack the occasional joke. Of course, he was still stoic most of the time, and you weren’t exactly sure if he was capable of blinking, but now you knew the warmth and care he possessed too.

Then there was Rossi, who had defied all your initial expectations. You had thought a celebrity like him to be gracious, maybe a little egoistic, but he was straight forward and meticulous to a fault. Still, it seemed he couldn't escape his nature as a performer, as he shone the brightest in the interrogation room.

The day you first witnessed him in action, your jaw had dropped to the floor, and he never stopped bringing it up in jest. He always joked that he didn't know whether you or the unsub was more shocked, but after that day, he also took the time to mentor you in the craft. You liked to think he was proud of how quickly you were able to put it into practice.

Your eyes wandered to Emily, sleeping soundly in the next seat. With Penelope and JJ’s busy schedules, she had taken on the role of showing you the ropes, and you had become fast friends. Turns out, the both of you were eerily similar: competitive, quick thinkers who never backed down from a challenge.

Unfortunately this meant you were never paired together on cases, but you did have an ongoing chess tournament slash drinking game. The chess was your idea, the drinking was Emily’s, and you were currently winning, much to your obvious pride and the rest of the team's amusement.

The person you actually got paired with the most was Derek; effectively fulfilling the fantasies of many women you knew. But as it turned out, the two of you made a damn good team. His calculated disposition combined with your breadth of knowledge - only rivalled by the good doctor - made you an extremely effective duo, and Hotch picked up on it immediately.

You being younger than him by a few years, Derek made it a point to check in with you often, and in turn, allowing you to glimpse at his pensive, empathetic, and insightful sides. He had become a big brother to you, and you like a sister. A bond that proved to be a strong one, across the many cases you tackled together.

You smiled to yourself, eyes landing on Penelope and JJ, dozing off together under a bright pink, knitted blanket whose ownership was in no doubt. It was rare that the tech analyst came along on cases, but she was always a welcomed presence for everybody involved.

Amidst the sea of gruesome cases sent to the BAU, you had come to look forward to Penny's witty banter, either over the phone or in person. The image of her colourful outfits and her outrageously decorated office were enough to make you believe in a light at the end of any tunnel.

It reminded you of your first case, an extraordinarily challenging one that the team managed to unravel in the nick of time. When you arrived back at the BAU, Penelope was the one to drag you out to celebrate. Little did you know, the rest of the team had also gathered at the bar with party poppers and birthday cake. When you found out that Penny had planned everything, you knew you had earned a friend for life.

As you smiled at the memory, JJ shuffled in her sleep and your attention was drawn to her sleeping figure. You didn’t know how she could look so perfect even when she was asleep. But then again, you’d come to realise that there was very little she couldn’t do.

You had already been friends with the communications liaison, but working with her in the BAU was a completely different beast. Of all the chaotic personalities in the BAU, only JJ had a hold over every single one. She was able to apply the same to the local police and media, and still meet the victim's families with the utmost grace and empathy.

During her brief window of absence when Henry was born, things just weren't the same. You liked Jordan, and you knew she always gave her best, but there was an unmistakable sigh of relief when JJ was back. And although she never asked for it, you and Penelope did everything you could to give her and Will a break from their newborn, including regular movie nights in with baby Henry.

Last but not least, the one that you couldn't forget even if you tried, Dr. Spencer Reid. You had joined the BAU because of him, you realised now. But what began as professional interest, had quickly developed into a full blown crush on your co-worker.

You realised this fact on an absolutely unremarkable day, except for the fact that your heart skipped a beat when Spencer walked into the office that morning. He wasn't wearing anything out of the ordinary, his usual combination of sweater vest and shirt, but when he smiled at you, your face flushed visibly and you wanted to melt into your chair in embarrassment.

If the genius had noticed it, he didn't let it show. But Derek most certainly did. Every chance he got that day, he teased you about your newfound crush on "pretty boy", and soon the news made it to everyone's ears. Emily not in the least, as she used the knowledge to win several chess games, much to your annoyance.

And still, Spencer remained oblivious. Despite how often you sat starry eyed listening to him explain a completely random fact. Despite how many weekends you spent together bonding over your shared interests in Star Trek and Doctor Who. Despite the fact that the seat next to him on the plane was basically reserved for you. You didn't think he knew, because he never made a move.

That's why you decided last week. The next time the team had a long weekend off, you would ask Spencer out on a date. You just didn't think it would happen so soon.

Midway through your thought, Spencer groaned in the seat next to you. His hands lifted to move his hair away from his face, and you resisted the urge to do it for him.

"Are we there yet?" He asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

You felt your heartbeat quicken at his voice, gravelly and soft, not fully back to reality just yet.

"No, not yet," you answered back in a whisper. "It's only 3AM. We have about two hours to go."

"Why aren't you asleep?" He asked. His head leaned back onto the headrest, but this time, his face turned towards yours. The two of you were far too close to each other for this to be work appropriate.

"Just thinking." You tapped the cover of your book with your pen in explanation, trying to look anywhere but at him. Spencer hummed in acknowledgement, the sound driving you wild. Then he did something you could have never expected.

"Hey," he began, pulling your gaze to meet his hazel eyes, "happy one year at the BAU." His lips formed a small smile, sleepy but genuine.

"You remembered?" You couldn't fight the wide smile that made its way onto your face, nor the glee that spilled out of your voice.

"Of course. Eidetic memory, remember?" He joked, gesturing at his head. Maybe it was the lack of sleep talking, but you felt like you were on the verge of tears.

"Thank you. Really."

"Hey, hey, hey, don't cry." Spencer said, suddenly sitting upright. He leaned forward as if to touch your cheek, but his fingers lingered in the air in between you awkwardly.

You brought your own fingers to your face, realising that you were, in fact, crying. A small laugh escaped your lips at the absurdity of it all.

"No, no, I'm alright, Spencer. Just overwhelmed, I suppose." You tried explaining, gently wiping the tears from your face.

"Why?" He asked, his voice laced with concern.

“I didn’t expect anyone to remember it, that’s all.” You said, feeling a little ashamed now, but your words seemed to light a fire in the doctor’s eyes.

“Well, whoever forgot it must be stupid because you’ve made a difference in the lives of every single person on this jet.” He said in an uncharacteristic huff.

This was your chance, you realised.

“Hey, Spencer,” you said after a pause, biting your lip nervously, “what difference did I make in your life?”

Spencer looked as if he had been caught, his eyes instantly darted to the seat behind you, his fingers twitching. You tightened your grip on your pen, willing yourself not to collapse from the anticipation.

“Of course, I-I mean, many things can’t be quantified due to its subjective nature, but you did change my life."

"Like?" You pressed on.

"You gave me something to look forward to everyday." He said, his eyes lifting to meet yours. You felt your heart soar a hundred stories above the ground.

"Really?" You were in disbelief, your voice barely a whisper.

"Really. You're... you're intelligent, beautiful, and you open my mind to new things every day. I feel like you understand me in ways the rest can't, and you’re the person I want to tell everything to. There’s nobody else but you.” He blurted out in a single breath, as if he'd lose the words if he waited any longer.

Your eyes threatened to spill tears again, but you blinked them back, preparing to say what you wanted to say to him long ago.

"Spencer... I like you. Like, romantically like you." You whispered, your eyes barely able to meet his. His eyes were wide open, his eyes glancing briefly at your lips.

And in a moment of pure bravery, as he explained later, he placed his hand over yours and squeezed. "Me too. I like you, romantically."

Long after that, he would tell you that he'd never seen you smile so widely before, and he instantly knew that he wanted to be the reason you smiled that way all the time. But in the moment, he just laced his fingers with yours.

You squeezed his hand back. Feeling calmed by his warm touch, you leaned closer to him. You still had one question on your mind.

"Did you know that I liked you?"

"I figured it out eventually. Last month." He said sheepishly. "But I've had feelings for you since a month after you joined the team." His cheeks turned a light pink at the confession.

"You know what? Me too." You blushed, leaning against his shoulder.

“Another thing we have in common now,” he said, resting his head on yours.

You weren’t willing to let him go now that you had him, and luckily, it seemed like he had the same idea, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.

The two of you fell into slumber easily, not even realising it when the jet had landed back in Virginia.

It didn't take long for the rest of the team to realise the interesting sight in front of them, but not even Penelope's high-pitched squeal managed to wake you up.

In the end, it was JJ who decided to end your unknowing humiliation by shaking the two of you gently. You and Spencer jolted awake, immediately taking in the various smirks and grins from your team in front of you.

"Ok, that's enough guys." Hotch announced. You noticed the small smile on his face before he turned around to leave the jet.

The team - mostly Emily and Penelope - looked as if they wanted to enjoy the sight for a little longer, but at Hotch's word, decided they would leave the teasing till later.

"That's not exactly how I imagined telling the team," Spencer said, when the two of you were finally alone. He ran his fingers through his hair in an action of mild distress, but you noticed the smile that was still glued to his face.

You leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek, enjoying the blush it left behind. "Well, that means less time with them, and more time with you," you teased.

Spencer picked up his bag and offered his hand to you. "I'm counting on it," he said, smiling widely.

You took his hand, your gaze trailing up his wrinkled shirt to his messy brown hair, finally landing on his earnest eyes. Of all the times in the past year you got to be the BAU's Eighth. This moment had got to be the best.

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vivianrvergiou · 5 years ago

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Bad Luck~ Obey Me

After a particularly bad fight in the House of Lamentation, a series of unfortunate events unfold. Pairing: Mammon x Mc Warnings: slight bad language but other than that everything’s ok. Recommended song: 5SOS- Teeth This is my first time writing for the Obey Me fandom, especially for the Greedy Monmon, so I do hope you enjoy!

Normally, the House of Lamentation was always buzzing with voices and energy, as its restless demon residents and human one would go about their day, but today this was not the case. Today, everyone was gathered around the breakfast table, glaring daggers to one another but daring not to speak a single word. You and Beel were the only ones trying out the food, while the other ones were ready to slit each other throats.

‘No one will leave this table until the culprit confesses.’ Lucifer announced, resting his hands on the table with deceiving calmness, but all of you could see the vein of annoyance popping in his head.

‘Mammon just confess it is you and be done with it.’ Satan practically growled at the white-haired demon, who threw his hands up in surrender.

‘Oi, didn’ do it dude. How many times should I tell ya?’

Satan’s green eyes flash with rage and he clenched his fists in a desperate attempt to calm himself down. Right beside him, Levi is rocking himself back and forth, muttering under his breath about levels and assassins and music blasting at full volume. Asmodeus on the other hand, had folded his hands above his chest and refused to even acknowledge anyone around. Still, he pipes up.

‘I want the one who ruined my beautiful hair PAY!’ Asmo throws venomously ‘Do you know how hard it was to get my original colour back?!’

‘Who cares about your hair! That damn assassin keeps getting me on every level! I haven’t slept in two weeks!’

‘Try scratching yourself raw then Levi.’ Belphie muttered, throwing dagger glares to everyone on the table ‘With only exception (y/n) and Beel, any of you could’ve done it. Especially the scumbag, good-for-nothing, greedy bastard like Mammon.’

Lucifer nods ‘This is what we are here to find out. I can promise you that the one responsible will pay dearly. Torture, tied up and hung from the ceilin-’ He growls, and you almost choke with your cereal, cutting him off ‘Anything funny (y/n)?’

You shrug ‘Hard to take you seriously when your teeth are painted pitch black Lucifer. You should wash them every now and then.’

Your snarky remark earns you a murderous glare from the first-born, while Belphie, Satan and Mammon chuckle, with Mammon choking on his spit when Lucifer turns his gaze to him, red eyes dripping with a wild mixture of cruelty and raw anger eating away at the colour. Still, Lucifer is barely managing to contain his anger and not flog you all for your disobedience.

‘It has come to my attention (y/n) that you, Beel and Mammon are the only ones who haven’t fallen victims to this sort of… misfortunes. Care to explain why?’ his eyes never stray from your face, searching for the signs that would possibly betray you.

Alas, as you shrug your shoulders and munch down on a cupcake, your face remains innocently even ‘Maybe because we are next?’

‘No, noononono, don’t go sayin’ that (y/n). The Great Mammon is not up for this shit.’

‘While the rest of us where! So, spit it out already!’ Satan roars and hits the table with his fist, making everything on it bounce.

It had all started about a week ago, when you and Mammon decided to let the others know you were officially dating. Of course, both of you had been pinning after one another from the moment you stepped a single foot inside the house, but it was only a few months later that you had enough and confessed to the greedy demon who was elated, alas not the same could go for the rest of his brothers. A huge fight had broken out, the likes of which you had never seen; all the brothers -with only exception being Beel- were beyond themselves, with all sorts of insults being thrown at Mammon, who after a while simply stormed off to cool down (read cry) and you telling the rest of them off before following him.

Eventually, although reluctantly, the rest of the brothers cooled their heads down.

Alas, bad luck was about to rain down on them.

And first victim, was Levi only a day later.

Levi was kind of sore about the news, so the Otaku decided to just game his frustration and sadness away. The game he decided to give a go was an RPG game from the human world y/n had gifted him with the other day, called Assassin’s Creed, and no matter how much it hurt his heart to play it and his envious nature to rise within, it was still a good game he wanted to play.

One by one he scored the best scores on the levels and progressed, until he reached the tenth level, when a very strange assassin emerged through one of the narrow streets, wearing a bubble pink robe and before he even knew it, Levi’s character was shot dead.

‘What the absolute sh-‘

He loaded the game again and made his way through the streets but again the assassin appeared and shot him. Over and over and over again, at some point he lost track of how many times his avatar had been killed; shot, slashed, an arrow to the body, a kick to the head, a leap of faith on top of him, he was one step away from smashing his controller. He tried everything: going through a different street, avoiding the place, picking up another mission, playing the game from the start but every. single. time. the assassin would emerge and kill him. The Avatar of Envy was beyond himself with rage, until he decided to corner and kill it before it got him again.

‘Aha! Got you now!’ he screams victoriously as he points his arrow to him and shoots him clean through the head.

ICAMEINLIKEAWRECKINGBALL,INEVERHITSOHARDINLOVE,ALLIWANTEDWASTOBREAKYOURWALLSALLYOUEVERDIDWASWREAKME!!!!!YEAH,YOUWRECKME!!!!

It blazed through the speakers on full volume, making Levi fall out of his chair with a scream. It did not stop, it did not lower the volume, the whole computer turned unresponsive until he would wrench the cable off the wall, having a very angry Lucifer breathing down his neck along with the rest of the residents, since it was four in the morning. Every time he would load the game again, when he would find the assassin, the song would blare up all over again. He had triggered a virus but none of the commenters online could help him through it.

He was determined to win though, which left him screaming at the screen in frustration for the 400th time. As well as leaving him with no sleep for a good two weeks.

Yet Asmo, who was the second victim, would vehemently argue that he had it worse.

Nothing betrayed what was about to go down for him.

He had a good laugh with Levi’s punishment for blazing the song at such a wild hours in the morning -and good for Lucifer because none of them cave-demons knew how bad for the skin was to wake up at such ungodly hours- so to relax and pamper himself before going out the following night, he filled with bathtub will all sorts of bath salts and soaps. Making sure to apply his favourite skin and hair mask to chase away the tiredness.

‘~Hmmmm, hmmmm, all perfect!’ he mused to himself and relaxed back with a good glass of wine.

You were with Beel and Belphie in the kitchen preparing dinner when you heard it.

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!’

A bloodcurdling scream rocked the house from its base and as you rushed to the hallway, all you saw was Asmo running around in circles with only a towel wrapped around his hips.

‘IT’S NOT COMING OFF! MY FACE! MY HAIR! IT WON’T COME OFF!!!’

His hair to your ultimate surprise had turned in all the colours of the rainbow, while the face mask he wore simply refused to come off, making the Avatar of Lust lose his shit. At some point, all you saw was the towel loosening but Belphie was quick to cover your eyes before you got flashed. Took them two hours and a very angry Satan to restrain Asmo and help him pull the mask off -thankfully with some alcohol it came straight out- but his hair was unsalvageable, which made Lucifer himself go to the shops in order to find hair dye.

Even with that though, the colour was as close to his original as it would get and no matter the fact he still rocked it, Asmo was very angry about the whole thing.

Yet none of them were suspicious, until bad luck hit Belphegor.

The Avatar of Sloth picked up his favourite cow pillow and made his way to the planetarium for some peace of mind and an opportunity to sleep peacefully and forget about everything. Cuddling to his pillow, he was asleep in no time but at some point, he felt a strange itch cover his body; nothing to worry about he could just scratch it.

Oh, dear Diavolo, no.

The more he scratched the more he would get itchy and the irritation of being pulled out of sleep was doubled when he woke up and every single inch of his body SCREAMED at him to scratch it, which he did until he started scratching himself raw. Beel found him completely turned onto his demon form, scratching away and cursing all the gods and demons he knew and didn’t know. Eventually, only a cold shower seemed to ease the itch and Beel made sure his covers were clean before going out to bring him some of his favourite orange juice; Belphie particularly liked it after a nap and there was a spare cup in the fridge.

Belphegor was thankful of his twin as he took it onto his hands and took a sip, but instead of the familiar fruity taste, the taste of ready-to-make macaroni and cheese flavour assaulted his mouth. Beel was very understanding when his twin spat it out all over him but Belphie was fuming.

Satan on the other hand, could agree that all these misfortunes were kind of strange, but nothing to worry about too much.

So after he laughed and enjoyed his brothers misfortunes over dinner, he returned to his room to read a new book y/n had gifted him and when he finally felt tired, he set his digital alarm on his nightstand -Asmo had bought it for him and he used it to wake up with some calm songs- and went to sleep. There was a thought twisting and turning in his mind as he slept, a gut feeling that something was amiss, but he couldn’t quite place it, instead slipping into unconsciousn-

WHOLETTHEDOGSOUT?!WOOFWOOFWOOFWOOFWOOF!WHOLETTHEDOGSOUT?!WOOFWOOFWOOF!WHOLETTHEDOGSOUT?!

To say Satan literally flew off his bed and turned into his demon form in a split second would be an understatement. The alarm blazed in full volume and would not stop for the world, until he Avatar of Wrath tossed it out of the window, sending it into orbit. Taking deep breaths to calm his nerves down, he made his way to his bathroom to get ready to slash that fucking a-hole who did this to his alarm.

He didn’t really notice his toilet seat being covered by a thin layer cellophane.

And he was barefoot.

Fucking hell.

Lucifer was not really worried at all.

Who in their right minds would prank the Avatar of Pride? No one was that masochistic and he prided himself in being terrifying on a good day, much less when you saw him angry. So, he privately enjoyed the little war raging around his brothers in silence, urging them not to do anything that would shame Diavolo in any way due to their rage. Of course, he was curious to see who was doing all this, but the culprit would rise eventually, nothing stays hidden for long.

That’s what he thought when he went about his chores on the seventh day. Placing his clothes to the washing machine and brewing a nice cup of human coffee Barbatos had given him, an exceedingly rare brew, he made his way to his office to start on the numerous papers he had today. Closing the door behind him, he sipped a bit from the liquid, finding it strangely salty; hm, maybe it was a new kind of coffee? It wasn’t unpleasant for his throat, just very very salty. Making a mental note to let Barbatos know it wasn’t too good, he pulled his chair out and leaned to sit down.

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

Everything happened in a single moment.

As Lucifer’s butt sat on the chair, a piercing honking sound erupted through his entire study, making the demon jump up in surprise and his hands to shake, resulting into covering his clothes with his coffee- which was not coffee at all, but squid ink which had permanently made its way on his teeth, turning them pitch black.

‘MAMOOOOOOOON!’

To say he was beyond himself would be laughable. Thankfully, he had a spare change of clothes, which he would need because to the horror of the entire household, his clothes came out of the washing machine pure white with a few random black and pink spots on them. Someone had mixed bleach with the washing powder and none of them knew about it.

So now, Lucifer raises an eyebrow ‘Something tells me you know a lot more than you let on y/n. It is not hard to figure out all of the misfortunes started after our fight and you seem strangely calm.’

‘What do you want me to do? I helped Asmo with his hair and Belphie with the scratching. If you wanna, you can search my room. Search everything, turn it upside down, even go through my panties drawer.’ You challenge with a smirk.

Never missing the way Lucifer straightens back and his cheeks colour a faint pink, while the rest of the brothers riot in the proposition.

‘That would not do. But I do have my eyes on you.’

Pushing your chair back, you rise on your feet ‘Whatever you say Lucifer. Now, if we’re done here, we’ll be late for school. I’ll go grab my stuff.’

Leaving them to burn holes in your back before starting to argue with renewed vigour with one another, you exit the dinning room and make your way back to your room. Picking up your stuff and pulling your hair up in a ponytail, you are interrupted when your DDD goes off and you see Solomon’s name flashing over the screen.

‘Hey Sol. Good morning.’ You walk over to your panties drawer and pull a fresh pair of socks, ignoring the squid ink, itch powder, funky hair dye and the bleach, hidden in a small plastic bag under your panties ‘Yes, thank you for running this errant for me. I’ll tell you everything but for now let’s just say they got what they deserved for making fun of Mammoney.’ You flash an evil smile.

Solomon was very amused to hear the stories.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me x reader #mammon x mc #poor mammon #pranks #got it coming #obey me fandom #obey me fanfic

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oceanera12 · 4 years ago

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Linked Wilderness (Part 3)

Part 1

Part 2

Wild get’s the present of his sister. And then she gives him a present.

Alright! This is the last focus on Wild I SWEAR. You are not the only boy I need to make suffer.

It was a week since her brother and traveling buddies had left, when she got the letter. How she got said letter was a mystery in itself (mail had been a bit spotty since the Calamity), and she had no idea how it was coming through time but there it was!

The letter was short and sweet.

“Rhea, Wind told me that I need to start writing you. I told him I do not know if these will even find you, but the postman hasn’t failed us yet so here we go. Things have been pretty quiet with us. Killed a few moblins, but nothing too major. I hope you are well. Wild Link”

Rhea felt like jumping for joy. She hurriedly wrote a response.

...before realizing she had no idea how to mail it to him.

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Wild was surprised when the postman arrived with two letters for him. One was from Flora. The other was Rhea’s. Wild opened it very carefully, Twilight on one side and Wind on the other.

“Dear Link, Normally, I would ask how a letter from you reached me here. But with everything I heard during your visit, I suppose it is not the craziest thing I have heard. Or seen. I am doing well, thank you for your concern. The neighbors brought me an apple pie yesterday. I shared it with Epona.”

Twilight scoffed. “You two spoil that horse.”

“And you don’t?”

“Just read, cub.”

“I found myself wandering outside the village the other day. Do not worry, I stayed away from Guardians and hid whenever monsters came by. I know how to take care of myself. It was quite peaceful. I see why you enjoy traveling. I am placing this note on my doorstep, along with a baked apple. However your letter arrived, I hope this one will find its way to you. Rhea.”

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“Rhea, Twilight is very disappointed in you for sharing the pie. I cannot say the same because I would do the same thing. Wind wants me to ask about any embarrassing stories from my childhood. I would prefer to hear the not so embarrassing ones. Link.”

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“Dear Link, To prevent Wind’s temper, I will share one of each. When you were five years old, you climbed a tree as high as you could. And then you were too afraid to climb down. Father would not help you down. He told you that you had to conquer your fears. You were stuck up there until the sun started to go down. And then you jumped out of the tree with a korok leaf. To this day, I still do not know how you did not die, or even break a bone. The first time you ever taught me to cook, you showed me how to make baked apple. I had difficulty with it and ended up burning most of the apples. By the end of our lesson we had one “good” apple. The rest were a dry, burned, lump. We ended up sharing the good one. I thought I would tell you that monster activity has started to go down the past week or so. Not enough for people to travel, but enough to notice. So whatever infection is spreading through the monsters, it does not seem to be here. Rhea.”

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“Rhea, Your last letter earned me a scolding from both Time and Twilight about my reckless nature. Wind and Legend could not stop laughing for ten minutes. Wind would like more stories. I am resigned to whatever my fate is. I am happy to hear you do not have to deal with the infected. They are rather a pain. Link” P.S.- The postman will arrive soon so I do not have a lot of time. I finished this letter last night. In my dreams I remembered baking apples with you. You used to wear a bright pink dress, right? It had a white flower design.

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“Dear Link, Yes, I did wear a pink dress with white flowers. I must admit, when I read you remembered something about me, I felt very happy. I know you cannot control what you can and cannot remember. But I cannot stop the hope of you remembering more. Call me selfish, but I want you to have a family you can remember. If not ours, then the current one you are in. I do not know if you remember Fenton, your old Knight friend. He was a year or so younger then you and wanted to be a knight in the service to the king. But he was born with one leg twisted so badly, it is impossible for him to walk long distances. You still taught him the best you could in swordplay and archery. The reason I bring him up is he just got married this past week. The girl is not from Hateno so no need to worry yourself on her. I went hunting and found a deer for their wedding feast (and also my present to the happy couple). Your sister, Rhea.”

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“Dear Rhea, You must be wondering why I have not written in over a month. The answer is complicated. To keep it short, let’s just say I am having quite the adventure. My dreams have been a lot of memories lately. It took a bit, but I remembered Fenton... at least, I remembered a memory with Fenton. I remember teaching him archery and thinking he was quite good. If only the army had let him try, I am sure he could have made an excellent archery captain. Then again, it is probably for the best he missed the war. The likelihood of him surviving the Guardians would be very low and then we would not be talking about his wedding. I remembered something with you, a few nights back. You woke me up from my dreams because of a nightmare. I let you sleep with me so you knew that the monsters would not get you. It felt familiar. Did that happen a lot? Your brother, Link”

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

“Dear Link, Yes, I had many nightmares and you let me sleep with you when I was afraid. I am embarrassed to say that I still wake up afraid. I have the remains of an old cloak of yours and use it as a blanket, during those nights. It is falling apart now, but I cannot bear to throw it away. The monster’s are increasing again. I had to take out a few that came too close to the village. Fenton helped from a distance. He still in an excellent shot and one of the best archers in town (excluding me, of course). Your sister, Rhea”

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“Rhea, I remembered mother last night. She was showing me how to make bread in the coals of a fire. She was also coughing a lot. Link. P.S.- I am sending you another one of my cloaks to replace the old one.”

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“Dear Link, Mother died from an illness the doctors did not know how to treat. She was sick for the last year of her life, with the last few months being bedridden. She loved you very much and would be proud of you today. I know that I am. Thank you for the cloak. I will take it with me everywhere I go for the rest of my life. Love, Rhea.”

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“Dear Rhea, This letter has a surprise for you on the next page. I hope you like it. Four, Warriors, and I almost burned down a forest yesterday. Time and Twilight were not happy. It helped me remember that time I almost burned down the house. Father and Mother were not pleased with me. Or you. You had something to do with it, didn’t you? Love, Link.”

“To Rhea, Sister of the Champion We never got to meet, to my deepest regrets. I am writing to thank you for your sacrifices to the kingdom of Hyrule. I am sorry that I was unable to stop the Calamity from claiming your brother and father from you. I am also sorry you will never get to see the land free from the Calamity. I am sending a picture I have of your brother from the Sheikah Slate. It is not much, but I pray that having an image of him will help you remember him for who he is. Link mentioned that he ran into you on his current adventure. It is fascinating that these portals not only travel between different worlds but also times. I wish I could study them, but alas, Link has forbade me from getting near them. Apologies, I got off track. Along with the photo, I am sending 500 rupees. Link is not happy with this gift, but I insisted upon it. Please use it for whatever you wish. Rhea... you did make a difference to Link. I am grateful for your help, past and future. I thank you for your devotion to the kingdom. At your service, Princess Zelda”

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“Dear Link, Please thank the Princess for the letter, photo, and the rupees. I confess, I was actually in dire need of some. My bow is getting old and I know it is going to break soon. Weapons are not cheap in these times. And before you get any ideas, you are not sending me any of your bows. I already bought one from a traveling Rito. The remaining rupees I gave to Fenton and his wife. He confided to me that his wife is expecting. I am very excited for them. As for almost burning of the house down: I have no idea what you mean. I certainly had nothing to do with it. And nothing will get me to say otherwise. Link, I am leaving you something under the floorboards of the house. Consider it a final gift from your little sister. All my love, Rhea.”

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“Dear Rhea, I do not know when I will be home in my time again, but I will be sure to stop by the house. I look forward to seeing your gift. I remembered something. I think it was the last day we spent with Mother and Father. We had a picnic outside. Father carried Mother to the blanket and we spent the day playing games and making food. When night came, we looked at the stars and we fell asleep hugging Mother. When we woke up, she was home in the sky. Love, Link”

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Dear Rhea, It has been a week since my last letter and I am still waiting your response. But I thought I would share with you that I remembered the last time I saw you. Before the Calamity. I will not remind you of that day’s events. But I will tell you that I was very sad to leave you and Father. I hope Hylia will unite us again on the journey. If not, then I am grateful I was able to see you again. Love, Link”

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Dear Rhea, It has been almost a month since your last letter. Is everything alright in Hateno? Last night, I made everyone Mother’s stew. I remembered the recipe... or at least most of it. Call it my version, I suppose. Wind would like me to ask you for more embarrassing stories. Please write soon. Love, Link

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Rhea, I am getting worried. You still have not written back. It has been over a month now. Please let me know that you are okay. Link

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Dear Rhea, The postman has informed me that my letters have not moved from the porch of the house. He has returned them to me, with the promise that he is looking for where you are now. Rhea, I am scared. Please let me know you are okay. Your brother, Link.

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

The moment Wild’s slate began to ping, Wild pulled it out and quickly tapped a few things. “I’m teleporting to Hateno. Any objections?”

No one did. Time pointed at the nearby stable. “We’ll stay there for the night. If you are not back by morning, we will be coming after you.”

“Agreed.” Wild tapped a few more things before vanishing in a trail of blue ribbons.

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The house looked exactly how he left it. Wild didn’t know why he expected any differently. It took him five tries to find the right floorboard under the stairs. A dried flower laid on top of a sealed envelope. The now familiar handwriting had scribbled, “To Link,” across the front.

Wild sat back right there on the floor and tore the seal off.

“Dear Link, If you are reading this, then I am not here. Truth is, I will not be coming back to this home. Most likely for the rest of my days, however long that may be. I have been thinking a lot about you. Ever since the Princess’s letter, my thoughts have been drawn to you. More specifically, where you are in my time. Right now.”

Wild stared at the page, his dread starting to grow.

“That is why, tomorrow morning, I am leaving Hateno.”

“No...” Wild gasped aloud. His grip tightened on the paper.

“Fenton and the others are more than capable of protecting this place. I am sure that the Shrine of Resurrection is guarded well, but I would feel much better if I was there as well. In a few days, I will be finding my way up the Great Plateau. Perhaps I will see the ghost of the King. Perhaps not. Either way, when you wake up in a hundred years, I will be near.”

Wild let out a broken sob. Tears began to fall onto the paper, blurring both his vision and ink.

“You protected me all of my life. Now it is time for me to protect you.”

’No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,’ Wild shook his head, praying this was just a bad dream.

“Besides, you have to find an empty house when you wake up. Otherwise, you will not find this letter.”

“Rhea, please don’t...” Wild begged, despite the fact this had happened a hundred years in the past. Nothing he said could change it.

“You may never remember me. You may never remember our family. But always remember that I love you, big brother. That is something that I will never forget. All my love for all my life, Your little sister, Rhea.”

Wild flipped the page over, desperate for more. He searched the floor boards for another note that might have been left. Nothing.

He bent his head and wept.

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

Personally, I think Rhea survived on the plateau for at least five years. She probably got killed by the Lynel. And if you thought this would be a happy ending-- HA! Hylia was nice enough to let Link remember his family. She’s not kind enough to let him keep it.

And if you thought that was sad, just imagine Rhea wrapped in her brother’s cloak, clutching her broken weapon, and facing her death. Her last thoughts are to the comatose brother that she was hoping to see one last time. But she knew he would see her. And that was all that mattered to her.

Up next: Uh... Sky is the plan but Four is starting to scratch at my brain so we’ll just have to see.

#linked universe #lu au #linked universe wild #wild linked universe #wild #link wild #link #wild link #fanfic #wild's sister #link's sister #technically angst #eh #not super happy with the ending #but it was getting long #and three parts is more than enough #sorry wild!

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jokerfan99 · 4 years ago

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My Top 10 Favorite Anime Heroes (Updated) by DarkChild316

“Guess who’s back…back again! DarkChild’s back, with 10 more friends!” LOL, sorry for that lame-ass joke, but I was listening to some Eminem earlier today. Anyway, my terrible sense of humor aside, I thought it would be a good time to give my list of “My 10 Favorite Anime Heroes” an update, figured since I did one for the villains I thought shit, might as well do one for the heroes too! Now once again, this list is strictly for the men only, if you want a list of my favorite anime queens, check out my list of “My Top 10 Favorite Anime Heroines”. But in the meantime, enjoy this updated list of my favorite anime heroes:

#10. Izuku Midoriya (My Hero Academia): One of the newest (and quite literally) entries on my list, Deku is a character who dreamed of becoming a hero in spite of being born without a Quirk or any kind of powers in a world dominated by heroes with them. Only to be chosen as successor to the greatest hero of the age, All Might. A humble yet caring fanboy at heart, if All Might represents the Golden Age of heroes, then Deku represents the future of heroes in the Modern Era. He may be a socially awkward cinnamon roll at the best of times, but don’t let that fool you into thinking that he’s not willing to stand up and do what’s right when the chips are down and the world needs a hero to stand for, no matter what form of villain is in the way! The only reason he doesn’t rank any higher on this list, is because he’s still relatively new to the scene and time will tell where he stands in the Patheon of anime legends.

#9. Inuyasha (InuYasha): He’s half dog-demon, half human: put it all together and what do you get? A sword-wielding hybrid who knows how to take care of business. Originally wanting nothing more than to become a full demon, his human heart trumped his selfish desires, leading him to fall for the modern-day schoolgirl he vowed to protect. Fighting through feudal Japan to recover fragments of the Sacred Jewel, InuYasha can be both cold and rude, yet heartfelt and compassionate. Plus, he makes us all laugh whenever we see this happen.

#8. Alucard (Hellsing): There have been a shitload of vampires in modern anime, yet all of them owe their debt to this tall, dark, well-dressed man. There has never been a vampire as delightfully sadistic as Alucard but unlike most vampires, there’s a method to his sadism that makes him truly brilliant. He isn’t truly evil, he’s just a monster who revels in destroying other monsters in any sadistic way he sees fit. And he truly revels in it, making his victims (most of which are evil Nazis and powerful demons) believe they actually have a chance by damaging them before regenerating and wrecking them in devastating fashion. This isn’t to say he’s totally heartless though, as he’s shown a great deal of fondness for the members of his team who are just as devoted to ridding the world of the evil forces that threaten it. Even though the anime version of Alucard mentions that he doesn't entirely understand humans anymore, he seems happy to work in the service of them, and to protect them from devils who aren't as honorable as he is.

#7. Kenshin Himura (Rurouni Kenshin): When I was a kid, Rurouni Kenshin was my favorite anime growing up and Kenshin was my favorite character. Having had a chance to revisit this anime recently during lockdown reminded me once again why that is, Kenshin is easily the most compelling character I had seen growing up as a kid and he was a refreshing change of pace in the samurai genre. Firstly, he was quite feminine to the point that many mistook him for a woman. He was also one of the politest characters in anime history, frequently putting others before himself and speaking to them with the utmost respect and patience. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the guy would be better suited as a florist that a samurai. But underneath that smiling exterior hides a dark secret, Kenshin is a man haunted by the demons of his past. A former mercenary who killed countless foes, he makes a vow to never kill again, and is repeatedly tested on that vow time and time again as less virtuous people endanger the country’s peace. When Kenshin's hand is forced, he can go to incredibly dark places and fall back into the habits that made him known far and wide as the most fearsome swordsman in the land. Although Kenshin’s momentary lapses make him a complete badass and set the stage for some of the most epic sword battles ever animated, Kenshin always goes back to his sweet persona once the danger is gone. But in his solitary, quiet moments, he's gripped by his greatest fear; that one day he will permanently revert to his former self and become a manslayer once more.

#6. Spike Spiegel (Cowboy Bebop): I’ll admit, it had been a long time since I’d seen Cowboy Bebop, so naturally I had forgotten about how cool a character Spike Spiegel was. Thankfully, this pandemic has allowed me to revisit it, and I find myself being just as in awe of Spike as I was when I was kid in the 90’s, he’s that awesome a character folks! Spike was an amalgamation of influences (from Bruce Lee, to Lupin III, and a little dose of film noir), and the result was a creation greater than the sum of its parts. In a series like Cowboy Bebop, which was itself a combination of cultural influences from around the globe, Spike was the essence of the story. Voice actor Steve Blum launched his career into new heights when he gave the performance of a lifetime in the English dub of the series, giving Spike a sense of smooth, effortless cool that many argue surpassed the original Japanese version.

Spike proved to be a versatile character; he was an expert pickpocket, a gearhead who worked on his own spaceship, a clever detective, a badass fighter, and even a bit of a philosopher. But what made Spike most interesting was his past as a gangster, and a man hopelessly in love. His relationship with Julia, and the tragic end of that relationship, haunts him throughout the series and shows us what truly mattered to him all along. When Cowboy Bebop reaches its powerful conclusion, Spike goes out in a blaze of glory that is unmatched in the history of anime (all I have to say is “Bang”).

#5. Ichigo Kurosaki (Bleach): The first of the shonen “Big 3” to appear on my list, you’d think being born with the ability to see ghosts would be enough, but not for this high-school bruiser. After a fateful encounter with a Shinigami, Ichigo gains the power of a god of death, and is tasked with defending his home from the malicious spirits known as Hollows. As his seemingly endless battle stretches to other planes of existence and some truly frightening enemies, both Quincy and Hollow, this orange-haired swordsman will keep fighting to protect what matters most to him no matter what.

#4. Monkey D. Luffy (One Piece): The second member of the shonen “Big 3” to make my list, this straw-hatted rubber-man takes my vote for his carefree spirit and his big heart. With the dream of grabbing the title of Pirate King, Luffy is a man who thinks with his stomach and fists rather than his head. Always in the pursuit of adventure, this happy-go-lucky guy may be the last person you consider when you think pirate captain. But you’d be wrong: You mess with Luffy’s crew and he’ll declare war on the entire world to save them.

#3. Naruto Uzumaki (Naruto): Talk about a rough childhood. After having a powerful demon sealed inside of him, Naruto was a social outcast in the shinobi village he grew up in; even though people despised him for being the vessel for the Nine-Tailed Fox demon he did not take the darker path in life nor did it deter him from pursing his dream of becoming the village leader to gain the respect and admiration of those who once shunned him. Naruto’s growth as both a ninja and human can be seen throughout the series, as it was this good nature of his and the will to protect everyone close to him that slowly changed the attitude of people towards him as the bonds of friendship he forges make his dream worth fighting for.

#2. Edward Elric (Fullmetal Alchemist): Wildly ambitious, wickedly smart, and wise beyond his years, Edward Elric entered the stage with a fresh, but interesting take on the modern shonen anime hero. Unlike those who came before him, he wasn’t this lovable idiot with a heart of gold. He was smart, calculating, arrogant, and shrimp sized. But most daring of all was the fact that Edward is technically handicapped, having had both an arm and a leg lost in a tragic accident fueled by love and hubris. In Edward we had a character who unlike most anime heroes was truly multidimensional. He could be comedic and pull off wild takes and sight gags. He could be placed in the most tragic circumstances and portray the deepest kind of sadness. He could be a complete badass, but he could also be the nicest guy on the planet. And most of all we saw Edward discover harsh truths about the world and learn that he didn’t know nearly as much as he thought he did.

#1. Son Goku (Dragon Ball): With the greatest respect to those like Luffy and Naruto, none of those characters would have ever been possible without this man (and the creators of One Piece and Naruto have even admitted this themselves). The prototype for shounen lead characters, Goku was somewhat of an anomaly back in his day. When the plucky, pint-sized kid Goku first appeared in Dragon Ball, the trend for male heroes was to have larger than life muscle heads (which Goku ironically turned into in his adulthood). Goku also grew up; another drastic change in a time when characters rarely changed much. But Dragon Ball Z is where Goku truly earned his fame. Goku isn’t even the most popular character in DBZ sometimes, but he is the foundation of the series. His heroism, strength, and dedication make him the perfect core for a kid’s show where the themes are meant to be pretty simple. He may not be the most complex character in anime history, but he’s perfect for the goal he was meant to accomplish. But Goku isn’t my top hero so much for his character complexity; it’s his influence that cannot be denied. He was, in many ways, a character that bucked the trends of his time and defined the direction of shonen manga/anime for decades, and that's why he's my #1 anime hero of all-time.

So that's my list, what did you guys think about it? Love it, hated it? Go on and tell me what you think and let me know who your favorite anime heroes are. See you soon!

Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/darkchild316

#izuku midoriya #my hero academia #inuyasha #Alucard #hellsing #kenshin himura #Rurouni Kenshin #spike spiegel #cowboy bebop #ichigo kurosaki #Bleach #monkey d. luffy #one piece #Naruto Uzumaki #naruto #edward elric #Fullmetal Alchemist #goku #dragon ball

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moonbelt · 5 years ago

Text

»worth the wait

↳ soulmates au | somewhat bootleg coffeeshop au

pairing » jeon jungkook | reader

genre » soft angst + fluff + sexual themes

word count » 9.280

» on Earth V12 everyone is born with half of their emotions – the other half is safely kept within the soul of their soulmate. however, its been a few wee years and it’s safe to say that you don’t have one. or at least you dont think so. but the universe cant possibly hate you so much as to leave you without your emotions for the rest of your life, or can it?

authors note » yeah yeah, it’s been a while. but soulmate aus are literally the only thing that give me joy and hope about love so.... hope you enjoy it!

The doctor at the local health clinic tells you that there's no use in holding out for a soulmate. Giving up is the best way to ensure less heartbreak, she diagnosed. It’s much better that way.

You've already passed the age criteria to find one, she said. Typically, a year or two after nineteen is the maximum time it takes for you to find the one, she'd told you with a tone of neutral candor. Your doctor probably felt sad – pitiful almost, at that fact. But she was careful to not let it show. That although there was nothing biologically wrong with you, the hard-cold truth remains that you can't feel what she does, what other seven billion people in the world feel — emotions. Or at least a subset of them.

To emote, you believe, is a privilege that not everyone receives. However, history and biology books taught you, just like it did to everyone else on Earth V12, that once you came of age you earn that right. That once the universe believes you've merited it, you get to experience the wild, wide and boisterous range of emotions.

You've read about it. Oh, how much you've read. Huddled and bundled up in thousands of blankets on the window seat in your bedroom back at your family home. Even now in university, in between study breaks and long hours of researching on metaphysics. You read to feel but you don't know exactly what you should be feeling. You read to understand, to know the differences between being sad and being upset. Am I sad that the Universe has decided I'm not worthy of a soulmate? Or am I upset that I believe I need a soulmate to begin with? You don't know. Like a thousand other things that simply just do not make any sense.

They told you not to worry. After all, everyone has a soulmate. It's unfathomable to believe otherwise. That's just the way things are. The way things have always been. The beginning and the end.

You watched, a little wide-eyed, disoriented and mystified as your closest friend and associate, Taehyung, became a different person in the five seconds after he met his soulmate, Eden. It was like a dam had been bust open right before your very eyes. It's a little hard to explain, even now that it's been a couple of years, you'd never quite seen anything like it.

The books say that eons ago gods, back in the time when they walked amongst us, granted wishes. But they also took gifts away. And one day when a fight broke out between two demigod children which resulted in one of them dying, the Sun god came down from his place on high and decided with a few other gods that the human emotions within us — the ones that spark hate and contempt and love and weakness — were to blame. Emotions, the god argued, did not play into reasoning or knowledge. And hence they needed to be earned back. Or at the very least, we needed to recognize their value.

But he couldn't just hoist billions worth of people's emotions into thin air. Instead, what he stripped from one he placed in another. The very essence of soulmates. By splitting the emotions people carry and making them search for The One with their other half, the god decreed that he had made the most beautiful creation. The Sun god ruled this as a magnificent feat, tooting his own horn about his generosity to break humans apart.

To take something apart and then put it back together again, just as you found it — perfect in all its nature, is something you long for. Something you yearn to understand. How is it possible to place jagged pieces back together and get something so phenomenal in return? To get something whole?

To experience Love the way the novels and books you devour describe it. To feel that Sadness that can cause people to cry rivers. You want to know this whole other world that everyone seems to get but you. You have Apathy — loads of it. You understand what it's like to be Disinterested; very much so. Frightened and Scared, you know. However, Hope and Serenity, you do not.

It's a struggle because it makes you insensitive. You simply can't understand what others are going through if you've never had an inkling to what they feel. And you have no idea what to say to comfort them because everything you say comes out wrong, everything you try to emote comes out forced and makes you feel like a bad liar.

"I just don't get why anyone would do that, you know?" Taehyung sighs loudly and over-dramatically before he takes a sip of his macchiato. "Like I hate when people take my stuff without asking. It makes me absolutely livid."

Eden nods in agreement. "It's the principle of the thing."

"Exactly!" Taehyung cries out in joy of being understood. Of being related to. "I swear I can't wait to move out and get a place with you. Everyone in that frat drives me up the fucking wall."

An odd third-wheel is what you feel like. So out of place next to your friends that you've known for years. You don't quite get why Taehyung is so mad at his frat brothers for borrowing his stuff, typically if he told them not to, they wouldn't. That's just how communication works. But nah, Taehyung is livid. And Eden agrees. He’s been livid before too.

"You could always tell your roommate to not touch your stuff," you say, interrupting Eden and Taehyung as they throw around other instances when people took their shit without asking. "I would do that."

Taehyung rolls his eyes, not in a condescending way like the other people in your university, but it still very much rubs your spine the wrong way. "The thing is; I have told him. Repeatedly. He’s got like, I don’t know, cement filled in his ears or something. He never listens."

Every soulmate pair is different in their mannerisms and the way they flow into each other. For Taehyung and Eden, it's like they complement each other and always have to add on to what the other says. Like a sign that they are there, and they've got their back. You guess it's adorable, in the same way little cats pawing at your ankles is adorable.

"It's like common decency," Eden tries to explain, his mop of ashy-white hair haunting over his eyes. "People generally just don't like other people touching their shit without permission."

And see, this is where your problem lies. You understand the principle of the act; you understand why someone would get theoretically mad at it. It's an inconvenience at best and rude at worst. But is it worth getting absolutely angry over? You're not sure. You're not even sure how someone can get angry with it. That's the big distinction between the people with soulmates and the people without.

Taehyung looks at you with pity swimming in his light brown irises and smiles. But it's without humor, without the type of light he reserves for Eden, without feeling. "Oh, you just don't understand."

There was a time when you understood your friend and he understood you. There was a time that both of you scoffed at the imperfections of the soulmate enigmatic system. And for a moment it leaves you in a state of disarray with how far he has evolved from you. How different the two of you have become.

You spend the rest of the hour focused on your hot chocolate and reading your Mythology and Folklores That Absolutely, Factually, Most-Definitely Happened book. You leave Eden and Taehyung to discuss whatever it is they discuss about. You so clearly can't simply understand what they go through, it makes no sense to dawdle in their conversations then.

It's the last week before the university closes for winter break but the snow has been piling up for months now. Hanging out at cafes felt like a good idea at the time, what's not to like about baked goods and the smell of heady caffeine? But now you wish you'd never come at all. Or at the very least, that you'd come alone.

So, when Taehyung and Eden start packing up – they have work to get to – you don't budge. You look them in the eye and tell them that spending a few more hours in the cafe sounds like something you're craving. It's been a while since you left your apartment for something other than school and volunteering.

Taehyung scrunches his nose and pouts his lips. "You're coming out to the party tonight though, right? It's the last one before break and it's time you had some fun. Today is your birthday, after all. Maybe you'll find—"

Before he can finish that sentence, you force a grin onto your face and a pep into your voice to try and drag him off that course. You're desperately tired of remembering your own birthday. Nothing good ever comes out of it. And you doubt the ripe old age of twenty-one would do anything different. "Don't worry, I'll be there. Your fraternity is the one hosting, yes?"

He nods his head as he slings his messenger bag across his shoulder. "Yeah. Don't be late, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll see you guys then." You long for them to go already and leave you to your lonesome. You have a very interesting book to get back to. "Bye Eden, have fun in the studio." You wave them off on their way out and hope to the gods that they do not drag this outing any longer.

Once they are gone and the chatter around you falls into a nice subliminal background noise, you peel open the pages of the myth and folklore book and begin to read again.

Ah, yes, the Sun god. The creator of soulmates and the one that cursed all humanity. You wonder now if the god regrets his decision. What about the people like you? The ones that seemingly never find that other half. Are you just supposed to swagger through life with one leg oddly bent? Did the god merely not give a flying crow-shit? How come it was so easy for Eden and Taehyung to find each other whereas it's become exponentially hard for you? Are you not worthy of your own emotions? Are you not worthy to experience that all-encompassing love? Is it simply just an haute club that you could never even dream of barging into?

You sigh and lean back in your chair. The book gives you more questions than it does answers. In fact, it barely gives you any solutions. All it does is relay what happened ages upon ages ago in hopes you will understand. But you don't. These days it feels like you don't understand a thing.

You were meant to have found your half exactly three years ago and nothing of that sort has even thought of happening. Sometimes you feel little bursts, like your half was feeling so much intense emotions that it filtered through the cracks into your side. But nothing to write home about. It leaves you with a lingering sense of hoping for something… more.

Maybe it's because you're not paying attention — after all, you're too busy lamenting on your disproportionate life — that you don't notice the chime of the bell as the café door is pulled open. You don't notice the swells of oohs and ahhs that erupt from the shops teenage companions like they've witnessed the second coming of a god, or better yet some YouStreamer.

You do not notice the slow, creeping feeling of madness that is seeping into your bones. No, you could never notice that when it feels one and a part of you. You don't notice anything really, not until a voice above you lets out a sound of admiration and awe all laced into one exhale.

"Oh," the voice says. "That's a good book."

Your body isn't made to be twisted around but you do it anyway. Testing the limits of how far it will go. And when you crash into deep, soulful brown eyes that look to you like they hold all of the world's greatest mysteries, you freeze. And even though you know time is a theoretical construct and there's no way to actually stop the passing of it, you believe that in this tiny secluded café, time with all its boundaries, halts.

Academically, you know this isn't true. The world still turns, and as much as you wish it, it does not revolve around you. The snow still falls softly to the ground outside, the graceful music pumping through the coffeeshop's stereo is still playing. Nothing truly stops, but something inside of you does.

It takes all you can give to break forth from the haze cast upon you to speak. Speak, dammit! But you're in awe, mesmerized by a sight you've never sensed so well before. You've met countless people, some conventionally attractive, others more idiosyncratically beautiful but none have made you feel like this.

Taehyung describes attraction as something that is either there or it is not. The books describe attraction as a feeling that can make you desire somebody. You've never felt attraction, not like this. You've felt the vague need to be intimate with another but never like this. Like you crave something – someone – you don’t even know.

The person is tall with hard, crystal cut angles and visible confidence. It's with the way he holds himself like he knows his place in the world. Like he never has to question it. It draws you in. Makes you examine him thoroughly from the tip of his fluffy black hair to the heel of his patent leather boots.

He cocks an eyebrow and for a shy of a second, you are highly embarrassed by the fact that you've spent gods-knows how many moments just ogling him. You never ogle. You've quite literally never ogled in your life… until now that is.

You clear your throat and attempt to come off as blasé. Which is hard considering the awkward positioning of your body and the rigorous pounding of your heart in its cage. "It's not a good book. It's a great one. Probably why I read it so much."

"Debating the existence of the old gods, are we?" His voice is laced intrinsically with mirth and amusement.

"More like debating the existence of my life, really."

He chuckles, a sound that fills all the jagged crevices of your soul and body. He moves and you do the same, shifting from your oddly angled position to look at him better. You don't really know how to explain it, this feeling coursing through your veins. Like you know everything there is to know about him, even though you clearly have never met him before.

You clear your throat and will your mind to stop. This is honestly atrocious, outrageous and, frankly disconcerting. It feels like some random spaz has possessed your body and is making you mewl and purr like some damn cat on the street.

"I'm Jungkook, by the way," he finally says when you find the courage to look back up at him. You respond with your name, pronouncing the syllables clear enough so that he doesn't mess it up. But he gets it. And then he tries the name aloud, twisting it around on his tongue. "It is a good day to question our existence, isn't it, __?"

You smile up at him, a different smile from the one you gave Taehyung and Eden earlier. This one comes easily, and it tilts the corners of your lips without feeling faux and fraud-like. You don't even have to try.

"Depends," you say. "Do you consider a cold as shit day in the middle of Winter to be a good day?"

The tips of his lips upturn into an uncanny lopsided grin. One that feels like he's withholding more than he lets on. "A little."

The line in front of him moves and you find yourself watching the way his body propels forward almost gracefully to order a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream and extra salted caramel drizzle. It's then that you turn your head back to your table and busy yourself with fiddling with your fingers.

You feel something nudging your chest as if begging you to listen for a hiss in the wind – of a window or door being carefully opened. But you push that away. You have no idea what it means. And now, you're too busy focused with reeling your cheeks back to a substandard level of hot. You're not sure why basic communication with this dude has you channeling the same emotes as one of the schoolgirl children in the movies you watched when you were younger. You're an adult for seven heaven's sake. You are better than this!

Your cheeks and your ears do not agree. Instead, they inflame themselves hotter than ever. What is it about Jungkook that has you willing to sell a piece of your soul just to talk to him? You've never felt like this. Like nothing you say could surprise him, mind the fact that you just met him.

This time you are aware when he strides over to the seat that had Taehyung had previously occupied. You look up at him, into those deep russet eyes that hold flecks of something so beautiful and then you feel it. The magnetic pull of someone enigmatic. Someone that holds simply more. Maybe not for others, but to you.

His backpack loosens around his shoulders and his veiny hands clutch the Styrofoam cup with an ardent need as he speaks. "Would you mind if I sit here?"

Normally you would be repulsed by the question. What would ever possess someone that you don't know to act so familiar? But you don’t think as you motion for him to take it. After all, it wouldn’t feel right to just send him away. There’s a thin thread tangling and stretching between the two of you and you would be damned if you cut it on your own accord.

Jungkook finds himself lowering his body nimbly into the chair in front of you. And then you find yourself discussing more with Jungkook than you’ve spoken with anyone else in years. It feels relaxing — freeing. But also like a cruel joke from the Sun god. Here’s someone that makes you feel somewhat whole but there’s no indication that the two of you are even meant to be. How sad.

He talks as if his mind has no filters; effortlessly switching between topics. Do you play any sports? Piano is about as rigorous an exercise as you can handle and Jungkook laughs as he tells you that he’s Vice-Captain of the Baseball team, although now they’re not participating in any tournaments. The air in your lungs turns frigid when you ask if he attends the same university as you and then the air is goddamn stolen from your lungs when he responds with a yes.

“No way,” you cry. “I would have seen you on campus.”

Jungkook sends you a lazy grin. “You would’ve but I doubt you take your head out of your books often.”

You concede. “Okay… maybe a little. But still, isn’t our school defending champions or something? I’m pretty sure I’ve heard of the team doing well before, just not you in particular.”

“Ah, I get it. I’m not popular enough.” He jokes. “Perhaps I need to print out a flyer of my face and paste it around school?”

“That’d be fun. There’s no way I’d miss you then.”

He laughs, a loud sound that expands the more seconds pass. He laughs as though you’re the funniest person in the room, which you doubt. But you laugh along too.

“So, what do you do for fun?” Jungkook asks.

“Other than the obvious reading and playing the piano?” You tilt your head to the side and scratch the nape of your neck before you continue on. “Well, I’m studying Metaphysics and researching the fundamentals of soulmates. Why some find theirs and why others don’t.”

“That’s fun?”

You shrug, a small smile playing on your lips, but you refuse to apologize for your interests. “To me. I guess it just helps me understand.”

Jungkook seems to soak in your answer, his eyes drifting from your eyes to the top of your head, down to your gray turtleneck and glitzy star-shaped earrings. And you take your time to truly examine his face. How perfectly in line his nose is with the rest of his bone structure. How perfectly his jaw and cheekbones accentuate his physical beauty. And how for some reason he reminds you of what you believe the children of gods looked back when demigods were a thing. His face makes you think regal and heavenly all at once.

“What’s your theory?” Jungkook finally breaks you out of your ogle match.

“My what?”

“Theory,” he repeats. “On why some find their other half and others don’t.”

You bite your lip. Not sure if what you say might offend him. There’s no sign that he has found his soulmate or not and you don’t want to be increasingly insensitive. You do not want to hear another ‘Oh, you just don’t understand.’ Especially not out of his lips. You reckon you won’t be able to bear it. At least not today.

“It’s simple, I guess. It all boils down to has the person merited it? Earned it? The Sun god split us apart because he believed we needed to find the value in our feelings. I guess the ones without soulmates simply haven’t attained that understanding yet.”

Jungkook frowns and your heart thrusts itself into a deep panic. See, now you’ve gone and done it. This is why you hate talking, hate speaking. You ruin people’s moods (much like you do your own) without a second thought and honestly, now that you think about it. This must be why you have yet to find your one. You barely understand the emotions you do have; how can you possibly comprehend others?

After a minute or maybe three, Jungkook takes a big sip out of his drink before he focuses his attention back on you and you feel yourself burning. A light excavating through the muggy mess that is your mind.

“Have you merited it? The other half of your feelings, I mean.”

Is he asking you if you’ve found your soulmate?

“No. Not yet.”

“Oh.” Is all he says but you hear the unsaid meanings. “Personally, I think the god did something terrible by rupturing us apart. What good has it really done anyone?”

You don’t answer. Not only because you don’t have a good response but also because the topic of soulmates has you on edge already. Someone like Jungkook obviously has all his emotions and has found his half, you think. You doubt the two of you are even on the same wavelength on the matter. So, instead of answering you change the direction of the conversation to him and his collegiate baseball career.

And everything after that clusters into a ball of yeses. When he asks you for your number, when he asks you if you’ve heard of Beta Tau Sigma, and subsequently when he invites you to Beta Tau Sigma’s end of the year party later today even though you already promised Taehyung you’d be there.

Suddenly, you wonder if Jungkook and Taehyung are friends, you guess they should be since they are frat brothers, but he never mentioned his name before. So now you wonder if Taehyung has separate friendship circles for those with and without soulmates. You don’t get mad or angry at the thought. But your mood dampens anyway.

“Wanna know what I think?” Jungkook speaks up just as the two of you are packing your stuff from the table. He doesn’t wait for you to say yes; he presses on almost immediately. “There’s no time limit on soulmates. And to believe so is to believe there’s a time limit on life itself. Our whole lives we’ve been told that the old gods exist and that the old gods did this and that and blah, blah, blah. But then they tell us that if we don’t find our other half by eighteen, better yet seventeen, there’s something wrong with us?”

Jungkook laughs but there’s not a shred of sparkle in it. “Us… the people born out of the happenings of gods? Okay, riddle me this. If we are so clinically incapable of finding our soulmates, then why do we long for them anyways? Why would there be pieces of my very soul that feel so incomplete?”

You’re dumbstruck by him. And again, you feel the little tilt in the wind that sounds to your ears like someone is knocking on a door that you can't see. But this time even though you do not have an answer for him, you force yourself to spit something out.

“If I were to find my soulmate this very second, I’d believe you.”

He smiles down at you, the one where his eyes fold into deep crescent moons and again you think that he’s holding out on you. Holding onto a secret that only he knows. “Won't that be amazing.”

The day goes by without you paying attention to much else. You meet with your philosophy professor on the advancement of your thesis paper even though you have no idea what you want to base the paper on. Almost every relation between soulmates and reality has been explored and at times you find that your professor and you clash on too many issues. You grunt through the meeting, walking on thousands of eggshells before you finally head back to your apartment but once you put your feet up on the couch, you get a text from Taehyung.

TAE » Remember, you promised!!

You » ...

TAE » Don't tell me you've forgotten Beta Tau's party slash your birthday bash? You promised!!! People might start thinking I made you up L

Although you know deep in the deepest crevice of your heart that Taehyung doesn’t mean anything harmful by his statement, it makes you squeamish.

You » What's that supposed to mean? Now I'm the token soulmate-less? Bragging about all my deficiencies to your fraternity brothers that I've never met? Be my guest.

TAE » Oh fuck. You know that's not what I meant __. I'd never do that. I didn't mean for it to come off that way.

But it did.

And you’re not sure where this surge of despondency is coming from. Almost like a switch in your psyche has been flipped. Some part of you acknowledges that earlier today, you would not have read that message as anything but harmless. But the situation has changed. It’s like your body is thrumming with unshed resentment. Resentment at who? You don’t know but Taehyung seems to be on the receiving end of it.

It’s this feeling of deep antipathy that propels you into getting dressed for the damn party. Not the fact that it is your birthday, not the fact that there is a slight possibility of finding your soulmate at the wretched place. No. You get dressed because there would be free booze and people stupid enough to pick a fight with you in your current state. Well, maybe not a real fight. But there’s a thrumming in your veins and you don’t know how to curb it. You’ve never felt anything akin to it before. Oh, and maybe the small huge chance that you’ll see Jungkook again.

By the time you get to the Beta Tau Sigma house lined up on Greek Row you are quite literally ready to burst at the seams. The weather is cold as fucking shit and although it stopped lightly snowing, the breeze has you tightening your hold on your navy jacket. What is up with everyone today and being a major dick to you? First, it was your professor, and then it was your neighbor that stopped you on your way out of your apartment to pity the fact that you hadn’t found someone on your twenty-first birthday.

Fuck off, you almost screamed at her. Leave me the fuck alone and go shag your boyfriend in the back of his termite-ridden Honda!

But you’d smiled through it, bearing the stinging of your cheeks as you stretched them past your limit and fisted your palms so hard that you created crescent shapes into your flesh.

And gods, you’re tired of smiling through it. Tired of being told that you’re not allowed to feel anything other than your predisposed emotes. Exhausted with having to always be passive. Nothing is supposed to hurt you. At least not emotionally. But you feel a swelling in your chest like your heart is about ten beats away from finally asphyxiating itself.

You push through the frat house and find Taehyung almost immediately. And you watch with a hint of simmering hatred as he cracks joke after joke and his brothers and friends laugh and you feel more and more isolated between their world and yours. And then the hatred comes to a boiling point when you catch two lovebirds giggling and making out on the sofa next your foot.

You blink and blink and blink again. Coming here was a bad idea. To be surrounded so much by the one thing you desperately want but can't have. The irritation and animosity that’s been brewing within you transforms into something more solemn. Dimming itself down to a feeling of major disappointment. At yourself, at the world, at the cursed Sun god.

The second you're about to pivot the fuck out of there, a pair of eyes to the side of the room fixes on you and you are stunned into a halt.

His eyes say a thousand things at once and you hear it deep in your soul. His eyes rake over your entire body as if looking for the source of your imminent distress but when he comes up short, his pretty lips squeeze together and form words that you suddenly want to be etched onto your very being.

“You okay?”

No one – and you mean this without irony – has ever asked you that in all seriousness. Not your parents, not your friends, and certainly not you. Your parents try, you guess, they know how hard it is to not have a soulmate, but they found each other early and never had to question themselves. Never had to question the essence of their souls.

And that’s when you feel it; a quiver in your lips. You open your mouth in an attempt to say something – anything – but nothing comes out and you close it, only to repeat the motion with no improvement.

Jungkook crosses the room in long strides and before you know it, he is everywhere around you. All black. Black tee-shirt, black cargo pants, black sneakers. You didn’t realize how big he was before but now that you have, you can un-see it. Lean and lithe but strong and sturdy. A walking contradiction. Especially with the light shining from his eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks as he puts his hands on your shoulders and centers you.

You hate, absolutely despise, how watery your voice sounds when you say “Nothing. This party is just so lame that I’m feeling a little off.”

The both of you know how bad your lie is but for some reason, he rolls with it. “Yeah? I was thinking the same thing actually. This has to be the worst thing Tae has ever put on and to think he said it’s supposed to be a birthday party. I could do much better.”

And now you feel utterly terrible. You’d been so ready to rip Taehyung a new one, assumed his prejudice against you for what? Awful. You’re so awful as a person that of course, you haven’t earned the right to find the other half of your emotions. Of-fucking-course.

You’ve never felt so out of your own body before. Who is this impostor that has possessed you and when can you get your body and appropriate feelings back? You need it back before you completely annihilate all your relationships.

“I’m sorry. I don’t usually act like this.”

“Why are you sorry?” He seems genuinely confused.

“I… You probably wanted to have fun with your brothers and all. And here I am just – “

Jungkook squeezes your shoulders hard which forces you to raise your attention from staring at your shoes to gazing at his face. It’s a much-needed distraction from the wobble in your voice and the feeling of cotton in your throat.

“You need some fresh air?” He poses his statement as a question, but you don’t really have a choice in the matter anyway because he slides his warm fingers into yours and although you feel a momentous spark, you let him drag you through the house.

Taehyung notices you then and begins to rush towards you. Perhaps he’s glad that you still came out tonight even though you had a fight with him earlier. Perhaps he’s relieved that you don’t utterly hate him. But you attempt to give him a watery smile that is both apologetic and reassuring, but his eyes fly down to you and Jungkook’s conjoined hands and he pauses.

And it’s not the smile he usually gives you. No. This one closely resembles the ones he reserves for Eden. Like maybe you’ve found your sanctuary. Maybe you’ve come to finally understand.

You scoff at the thought just as Jungkook snatches two Margarita cans from a cooler and pulls you up the stairs and through a hallway that leads to a balcony. When you're outside, he motions for you to take a seat on one of few white benches. Without saying a word, he passes a can to you. You clasp the cold drink between your fingers and revel in the iciness sipping through your flesh.

You've never experienced this feeling of tranquility meshed with a creeping sense of foolhardiness with another person in your life. And you're struggling with how to process it.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jungkook finally breaks the silence, sitting right beside you. The warmth emanating from his body warms you down to your toes and you revel in it.

No. Yes. Fuck. “I don’t know. I’m just being stupid, and it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“I know you're not stupid and it does matter. It matters a lot.”

Great, you think. One more person in the grand universe that you're destined to disappoint. You sigh and stare out at the starless sky. You always hold your feelings in check and rigorously work to not let the few emotions you do have to get the best of you. To not cloud your judgment. But during the course of this whole day, you’ve felt like you're on a ledge. On the precipice between falling and drowning. Like your mind is waging a war against itself.

You are not a crybaby. But even as you think this, you feel wetness at your eyeballs and a stinging in your cheeks, and you blink and blink to try and push it away. But it feels like your body is burning with never before experienced sensations and it scares you. You open your mouth and the choking feeling from before returns, it muddles everything else and you panic. You refuse to cry in front of Jungkook. Not now when you feel so downright weak.

“P-pieces of my –” Against your will your voice cracks. “Pieces of my very soul are so incomplete.”

The corners of your eyes fill up more with tears that you desperately do not want to shed. And it takes everything in you to not raise your hand to swipe the madness away.

Stop! Stop, goddammit! Stop this very instant! You’re above this. Better than this. You didn’t cry when the doctor told you that there was nothing biologically wrong with you, you didn’t cry when your group friends slowly diminished as they found oneness with their partners and others more attuned to them. You didn't cry then, so why are you on the verge of it now of all times and days?

And even though you're trying your damn hardest to not have a full-on breakdown, you feel your body heave and then sniffle. Gods this is so embarrassing. You turn your face away from the sky and instead focus it on the cold can in between your fingers.

You pushed away your feelings until they were stuffed in the darkest parts of your mind and now it seems, they are breaking out without a care in the world about the consequences.

“Remember I told you that my theory has to do with some of us earning the privilege of someone else? I haven't earned it. Heck, I haven't earned anything. I'm passive. I try not to be but investing myself into others has never worked in my favor. All the emotions I do have feel so negative that when I'm around people I can't help but not connect. Because I don't understand half of what they are saying or feeling, and I hate it. I hate it so much.”

You're a piece of work, __, your ex-partners had said. You've dated around before; scavenging for love in uncanny, dim places with people destined to be with others until they finally realized that you were not theirs.

Because everyone eventually did. Realize the oddity of not being empathic. There's something defective about you. You can't seem to find anyone willing to be around you for two weeks talk less of forever. But everyone you'd been with magically happened to find theirs. The stars seem to gravitate away from you like you exude such a power that is so repulsive.

And it hurts. It hurts so fucking much. Like hot coal sliding down your spine and marring flesh. But you can't stop your mouth from speaking, the words tearing the edges of your lips with each choked up sound you exhale. "A part of me doesn't care if I don't have a soulmate, I mean, my life shouldn't be dictated by whether or not I have someone tied to my arm. But the other half of me desperately wants it. I get this ridiculous chasm of sadness when I think about every emotion that I can't experience because I'm not worth it. I've never been worth it."

Your throat is burning. Your eyes are burning. Every part of your body is aching madly but Jungkook doesn't say a thing. Your chest begins the act of carving in on itself and if you didn't know any better you would reckon that your heart is cracking into two halves.

Gods, this is pathetic. You feel so pathetic. All your life you've never felt like the world had conspired against you until this very moment. Like the Sun god had taken a special hatred on you and dumped all these folds of resentment into your soul. You wanted to claw it out.

And for some reason you will never understand, you keep going. As if the cracking of your voice and the upheaval of your shoulders wasn't enough, actual tears started to slip and slide down your cheeks.

“Why the fuck does our society bank on soulmates anyways? What's so great about them that everyone acts like if you don't have one you've been done a great disservice? Why me?" A whole bunch of unfiltered anger bursts inside you and propels you from the bench and a graver sniff infiltrates your voice. "Seven billion people on Earth V12 and you would think that I would be able to find someone in this mess of a world but no. I've wasted twenty-one years of my life without knowing anything. Without feeling anything. I can't do it anymore. I don't want to do it anymore. I want to feel something. Anything. I'm tired of being like –”

Oh, seven hells, you feel like you are dying. Decomposing to dust on the balcony of a fraternity house in the middle of winter in your favorite jeans and so-so high-tops.

It feels like every section of your body is withering away. Rotting. Falling apart and there's nothing you can do to stop the trajectory. Tears pool beneath your chin before they cascade into the neck of your shirt. Your lips quiver so badly you're afraid they might never be the same. If this is what sorrow feels like you hope you never experience it again. It makes you feel gutted.

Your vision becomes so blurry that you can barely make out the dark sky in front of you. Can barely even think. And try as you might, the tears just keep rolling.

You’re not sure of when Jungkook stands up but you feel him wrap his arms around you – tentatively, all-encompassing and fully, and rest his chin on the side of your head. He doesn’t say a word, and maybe it’s because he doesn’t need to. You feel him. The budge on the window sill that leads to your soul. You feel him there. But you want him to let go. There are certain things you acutely feel like you do not deserve, and he is one of them.

“Let me go,” your voice sounds like two trains grinding against each other and it makes you pull away from his embrace. But Jungkook’s arms stretch around your torso.

“No.” Is the soft reply that weighs on your ears. His body is warmer than you want it to be because it's making you feel at home.

“I –”

“It’s okay. You can let it out.” In some kind of way, he feels even closer than before. Like he's impressing himself into your lungs. Like he's giving you the very air that you so desperately need to breathe. Like he's forcing you to bloom and he doesn't care if he has to be the one that solely weeds away at all the nonsensicalities in your chest to make sure it happens.

And maybe some part of him just knows that a part of you is desperate to run away from the unknown because he hugs you harder, tighter, and firmer. So much so that now you can't breathe for different reasons. You don’t know what to do so you let him.

“You don’t need to prove your worth to anyone. Not me, not the gods… no one. And –” You make a move to interrupt him but Jungkook cuts himself off. “Do you feel it?” He asks with his torso pressed against yours and your heart syncing along with his.

“Feel what?” You croak out.

“I can't explain it, that’s why I need you to feel it. It’s every around us you have to, I don’t know, listen.”

You don’t want to, but you do it. You squeeze your eyes shut and wrap your fingers around the Jungkook’s shirt and wait. You wait for the madness in your mind to calm down. You wait for the apprehension in your heart to subside. But nothing happens and you feel worse than before.

“Jungkook,” you start.

“Don’t.” You swear you hear a slight tear in his voice. “Just listen.”

Listen, he says, but what are you even listening for? Here you are, miserable than ever and being told to listen. To the universe? Or listen for that goddamn hiss in the wind again? But all you hear is the sniffles that your chest is releasing and the slight exhale of Jungkook’s hot breath against your cheek. And you don’t know how to explain it. But it is then when you are doubtful and least expect to hear – talk less of feeling anything, that you identify it.

And it’s a beautiful thing. Like two halves of a comet melding into each other to crest a dynamic explosion into your very being. Something that lifts the burden weighing down on your heart and helps you to finally breathe. Breathing in through your nose feels better. Feels easier.

The thread you’d felt before in your mind that had been so tangled and messed up that you could barely discern what it was suddenly fizzled, expanded and stretched out and when you feel for the force at the other end of the cord and come in contact with an aura that reminds you so much of the person in front of you, you are shocked. Better yet, surprised.

You don’t know to explain it. Heck, you’ve never experienced such a colorful array of emotions in your life that for a minute or maybe three, it leaves you dazed and disoriented. It feels like your body is in a vacuum and is receiving dangerous sensations at the speed of light.

It’s burning. Oh, how it's burning. It’s burning through every fiber of your existence but unlike before, this burn doesn’t make you want to choke up and die. Instead, it revitalizes you.

“Do you feel it?” Jungkook asks again.

This time you have an answer that you don’t have to scour for.

“I feel it. I feel it so much. I feel it everywhere. I –” you don’t know whether to cry even harder or laugh at the oddity of the situation and that leaves you in an awkward limbo of both. “Oh, gods. It’s you.”

All the haphazard sensations you’ve been feeling all day. The anger – no lividness –at your neighbor, the overwhelming sadness, the uncharted pettiness at Taehyung with a bare minimum reason to be. It all finally starts to make sense. Everything – or at least, all of that – happened after you’d met him. After you’d been exposed to someone akin to a livewire.

This is nothing like the books said. You’d gone your whole life thinking, believing, that when you met your other half, you’d instantaneously know. Like the skies would crack open and some kind of bell would resound. Now you realize how ridiculously absurd that would be, but it had made sense at the time.

Words lose their meaning in an effort to explain what you feel. Your body is being put back together again. Pieces that you hadn’t realized were even missing suddenly fit into each other. You welcome the tingling in your veins and instead of ignoring the sparks igniting beneath your bones, you embrace it. And oh, it is magnificent.

In this loud, beer-infested fraternity house with slovenly college students pushing against each other downstairs and on the day you turn a striking twenty-one, you find someone that the history and biology and mythology books could have never predicted.

Jungkook’s voice is much softer than before. Is that possible? But it is. And he holds you tighter, holding you like you’re unbreakable.

“To me, you're the moon, the sun – the whole fucking galaxy. I’ve always known you existed, and I’ve waited to find you for a long time. I carried your half with me for so long, how could I not? In the depths of my mind and when I really concentrated about it, I could feel you. Somewhere close but sometimes distant. I held out for you… always. So, you’ll forever be worth it. And you don’t need to earn me, you already have me. You’ve always had me.”

The stain of his words etches itself onto your soul and becomes a part and parcel of you. They quiet the chatter of your heart and bring subliminal teardrops to the crooks of your eyes but this time you don’t mind it. How could you ever mind it?

“So, you’ve always known then?” You don’t sniffle or sob and your voice doesn’t pathetically crack. Instead, you maneuver your face away from his chest so you can see his eyes. In the process, your bodies disentangle and you miss his warmth but this is really happening. And you’re desperate.

He smiles. It's blinding in its glory and it blitzes straight into your core. “Always. It's destiny; you and me.”

You and him. Him and you. You like the sound of that.

“Even though we had to wait for so long.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes like he’s tired of you thinking about time as some enormous continuum rather than the now. “We have the rest of our lives to be together. I don’t think knowing you a bit earlier would change that. It is what it is. And even if I had to wait five years, fuck, even ten. I wouldn’t give up. Not on you, __. Not on my other half.” He spits the last words out so vehemently you don’t have the audacity to doubt it. “What we have is more sacred than anything in the world. I’d be stupid to let that go without trying.”

“You’re not stupid.”

“And you’re not unloved by anyone in this world so stop thinking that.”

“I was not –”

He sends you an exasperated look, one that you immediately identify because the bond the two of you have defies all logic. One that says that he knows you. He knows that the tears that sprung to your eyes earlier were not simply because you were overwhelmed by everything in the universe but also because you felt like you had lucked out of the love train. Watching your friends find havens with their other halves and seeing that couple giggle on the couch like it was the end of high school all over again, it made you feel desolate. And Jungkook felt that. Somehow in some way, he knew.

“I love you. I’ve only met you and I know that much. So, what about your friends? Your family? They love you too albeit in different ways than what I'm feeling. But no matter how much the Sun god split us apart, I, you – we – have always known that we were made for each other. So, yes. I love you.”

You’re pretty sure your mind all but blows up into a tiny clusterfuck of a mass because you can’t even hear what Jungkook says next. You’re hyper fixated on what he had just said. He loves you? How does he even know that? What was this? Had your brain and ears finally imploded on themselves? Was this alternate reality?

“Do you need me to repeat it?”

What? Huh? What?

“I don’t know what to call it. Maybe love at first sight?” He carries on like you’re not having a self-induced heart attack right before his eyes. “Never believed in that before but then I saw you and gods, you’re the most beautiful person I've ever seen in my life. I sure hope when you saw me it was the same because I have no idea how to describe what you do to me.”

But you understand what he’s saying because you did feel it. You felt so much when you first looked at him and you still feel it now.

“Like everything suddenly made sense. The whole craze about finding soulmates finally made fucking sense. I finally understood.”

You blink and blink so fast that you fear your eyelids might not keep up with the action. You never thought your other half would be a huge, spectacular talker and that they would know just how to steal the breath from your lungs away. But Jungkook knows. You're finding a lot of new things this night and one of them is that Jungkook is a hopeful romantic. It almost makes your body bring on another set of waterworks.

“I love you.” He says the soul-breaking words again. “And I already know that love is malleable but what I feel in my bones is for forever.”

In your bones, transformed out of what had laid dormant you felt Love. All around you love. Like you could mess up, you could do the oddest thing in the universe and the love would still be there. You want to shout it out. For the first time in your little life, you feel love and you want it always. And you want to give it always.

And you don’t know how you know but you know that he’s about to kiss you. Oh, gods. He’s about to kiss you right after –

“I love you too.” You hurl out fast enough and it slows down Jungkook’s advancement towards you. “And I have no idea what I'm doing but I'll do it with you. I don’t trust just anyone but what we have is bigger than trust. Like you said, it’s life itself.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I would wait forever for you too.”

“I know,” he says and you don’t run away when he steps closer to your body. And his fingers reach for a set of yours. You raise your free hand to his chest and feel the rapid, erratic beating of his heart in its cage.

“And I've never done this before. But I'll do my best I –”

“We don’t graded,” he cuts you off with a laugh. “And I know.”

He knows.

His free hand cups your cheek and you almost hyperventilate. Almost. But you’d rather die than miss this. So, you take deep, long breaths that inflate your system with the mix of sandalwood, earth, and hope. And then his lips press onto yours and give you a happy death. His lips crush yours with a force reserved for rocks and specks of dust breaking away from comets. His kiss wakes you up. And you love it.

Before you can even push further, his lips move to the side of your cheek, barely-there before it cascades to the other. And then his mouth is on your brow bone, a light presence that feels heavenly beautiful and nerve-wracking all at once before his lips rest on the middle of your forehead.

Jungkook’s lips came back to yours and kissed one corner of your mouth and then the other. Oh, seven hells, you can’t think. You don’t want to either. Instead, you open your mouth and kiss him back with more fervor. You lithely raise on your toes and kiss the apples of his cheeks, his temples, his brow bones, beneath his lips and right on his chin. Gods, it feels like you kiss him everywhere.

The hand on his chest feels how frenzied his heart is pounding and it makes you smile because you’re sure your heart is doing the same. You close your eyes and wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t need to say anything in this moment because what needs to be said is all around you and under your skin. He reached forward and kissed you again. This time harder, and more frivolous and you gave and gave and took and took. And when the two of you finally break apart for air, you feel a tingle of cosmic goodness down your limbs.

Fuck.

He grins, actually no, he does more than that. He momentarily lights up like a firetruck and pulls you impossibly closer. And you think he has the most beautiful smile in the universe. You want to keep that on his face forever.

“You’re worth it,” you tell him, breathless.

“Worth what?” He asks smugly, his smile turning cocky as he acts like he doesn’t know.

You roll your eyes, your shoulders shaking as you laugh. A genuine one that warms your belly. “Worth the wait.”

a/n » hooo my god, this is the first thing i’ve written in about a year? and it feels so good to write and even better to pour my soul into this soulmate au. i really hope y’all loved it!! and please do tell me what you think!

⇢ masterlist

©️ 2019 kai, moonbelt [aka high-on-food]

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cockasinthebird · 5 years ago

Text

Drama Club AU

First kiss

There's undoubtedly a lot of “almost kisses”.

Someone asked, and this got long AF so I’mma just put it under the cut

The first time, Steve trips over a cable that's in the way of his mark, and oh no Billy totally didn't put it there just to be annoying, whoops, but then- by reflex, as Steve's foot gets caught and he falls, Billy catches him.

And oh no Billy's like really fucking strong, the way he just holds on to Steve like he weighs nothing.

And oh fuck Steve is like really fucking pretty up this close, those dark honeyed eyes and beauty marks, even in the too-bright light of the spots hanging above them.

There's a magnetic feeling between them.

But then someone runs over to ask if they're ok and the feeling is gone and Steve stands back up.

Doesn't shout at Billy or get all mad for being in the way as usual. Just straightens out his brightly colored polo and says something like “Yeah, just wasn't looking where I was going, don't worry.”

And doesn't look at Billy the same way for the rest of practice.

The second time it almost happens, Billy's walking around with a tall stack of boxes filled with costumes that needs to be put away.

People ask if he needs a hand or anything but “nah it weighs basically nothing.”

Steve's staring at the script, mind occupied only by that as he mumbles his lines and trots back and forth backstage, nearly carving his route into the floor there.

And they don't notice each other till after the chaotic tumble to the floor, papers flying, boxes opening up to spill their contents all over the floor.

All over where Steve and Billy land, together.

Billy on top, heavy and muscular and pressed against Steve with all his weight. Removes the green shirt that blinds him to see Steve there, face framed by a bright pink feather boa that has fallen around his bright pink face.

All very meet-cute I know and I fucking love it, fight me

They can feel each other's rapid heart beat, feel the magnetism again, like they're caught in one another's gravitational orbit.

It's very clear on Billy's face that he's thinking- considering something. Bites at his lower lip, looks down at Steve's perfect mouth.

And Steve simply... waits. Flat on his back, eyes staring up at the blue waters that are obviously staring at his mouth, pays close attention to how warm Billy's body is, as he continues waiting for the other to make a move.

It's as quiet as the grave here, where they are all alone.

But Billy moves away, stands up and starts gathering everything, apologizes for not having seen Harrington walking there, despite how he usually always knows where he is.

Steve helps gather up the stuff, eyes going quickly between the scattered costumes and Billy's golden hair.

Their fingers meet and it's the first time they look into each others eyes again after having gotten up. And they freeze there, just for a moment before Steve moves his fingers closer, into the heat and up the skin, the sensation there tingling. Then Billy moves away, again.

At that Steve stands up, gathers his papers and tries not to run as he goes for the dressing room, slams the door and locks it, back pressed to it. Mind a confusing jungle, heart racing, skin tingling.

Billy will remember this tonight. Will remember Steve when he's asleep.

Steve starts noticing how Billy's always in the way somehow, whether directly or by proxy, when he leaves a few tools accidentally on Steve's dressing table, more cables on his marks, purposefully walks in the way when they pass backstage, always grinning.

But he can give as good as he gets. Starts hiding the tools to send Billy out on a wild goose chase, steps on the cables as Billy's trying to pick them up, whoops, leaves his own stuff all around on things that Billy has to move, doesn't step aside when Billy's carrying something a bit too heavy and needs to pass.

One time, Steve's sitting on a prop that has just finished drying after having been painted, talking to a co-star, when Billy approaches.

“Have to move this,” he says and gestures to whatever it is Steve's sitting on top of.

The girl leaves with an alluring smile meant for Billy, but he doesn't care right now, because Harrington's not moving.

“Get off.”

“Why? I'm taking a well earned break, gotta rest often since I am the male lead, after all.” All cocky.

Billy's tired, he's been lifting all kinds of extra heavy shit today, won't even have the energy to lift weights at home later. And there's clear anger in his eyes, born of exhaustion and fed by the way Steve's smirking.

Puts his hands on either side of Steve's hips. Leans in, hips between knees, noses a hair's width away.

So close, that Billy can smell the expensive shampoo Steve uses, and whatever it is that keeps that dark, luscious hair standing the way it does.

So close, that they can taste each others breaths, feel each exhale against their lips, the heat that builds.

They have never been so close.

Steve looks down at where he can practically already feel that mustache tickle. “Fine.”

And they linger for just a few seconds too many after that one word, before Steve jumps off and walks away, looking back to see Billy staring.

There would be plenty other times like this.

But the first time they kiss is after Billy's been accepted as Steve's understudy.

They've grown closer, fast, but still not friends, because friends don't look at each other this way, don't look over shoulders or through the corners of their eyes.

All that changed, though, when Billy becomes an actual threat to Steve's stardom. And Steve's seething, quietly of course, with rage when the teacher tells him to help Billy learn all the moves and lines before the big opening, and that yes he has to, show some camaraderie, Harrington! We're all a big family here, and we support each other.

But Billy's got a lot to learn still, in general about the whole theatre thing, because he knows nothing besides how to angle the light right and a natural born singing skill.

And Steve got a big empty house. And he asks if Billy wants to come over for practice, loudly, to make sure the teacher knows how seriously he's taking this.

Considers sabotaging Billy, play with him a bit and make him squirm under Steve's superior artistry and expertise. But no, he... he doesn't want Billy to feel bad or self conscious, not sure why he feels that way though, but he'll be nice enough.

Billy's heart all racing, sitting in the camaro and fixing his hair. Hopefully no one saw him come this way, if anyone sees his car in front of the Harrington mansion, rumors will grow. Can't decide if he should open a button more on his shirt, or if it's low enough to show off his tanned pecs.

Then they're in the living room. Steve doesn't want to bring them upstairs into his bedroom, no that would be too... personal. And this isn't personal, the two of them all alone, no this is just acting.

But Billy can't focus for shit.

Steve decided to play the romantic lead, his female counterpart, for the sake of getting Billy used to having to play off of another person like this, and it's just easier to know when to talk when another person reads aloud the other half of the dialogue.

And it is enchanting to watch Steve lose himself in a role, so deeply devoted, knows absolutely every single line, word and punctuation to the script of whatever they're rehearsing. Oh how he moves so elegantly, speaks so eloquently, it is obvious that he was born to do this.

Of course it's irritating to be ogled this way... or is it thrilling? Steve keeps going, Billy keeps following, and Steve knows where this scene is headed, what's soon to come up.

Wonders if Billy will go through with it. Hopes.

Stands as close to Billy as he can without anything touching, and recites the line in the script saying: “and then they kiss.”

And he waits, wants to move in those few remaining inches, wants to feel that stupid fucking mustache. His heart beats on his lungs like drums, an internal drum roll that deafens him and he bets that Billy hears it too; must be able to sense it vibrating through the air.

Billy's never been hotter, as in the heat here is worse than any summer day back in California. Jaw tense, heart in his throat. Knows what he wants to do, what he should do- what he should practice, according to the script. Fucking do it Hargrove, fucking just, do it. Do it!

And it is the most intense thing he's ever felt, grabbing Steve by the face and pushing himself into those lips. Those lips, those lips... they've been haunting his dreams, accompanied by those dark eyes, skin full of moles and beauty marks. It's as if he's been hungry for years and can finally eat.

Steve's... speechless... wants to touch- can he touch? The body heat, the muscles, the weight of him, all things he remembers so vividly, from when Billy fell on top of him, from dreams. And he tries, cautiously, grabs lightly on the red shirt, hand clutching the fabric, pulling him closer.

And Billy lets himself get pulled closer and closer and closer, till their bodies align like the stars in the sky. Feels like he's soaring up there now, when Steve opens his mouth to invite him in.

Their heart beats sync up, skin burns wherever it touches, lips together like pieces of a puzzle that paints such a pretty picture.

#Oh man #Theatre Kids AU #Drama Club AU #Whichever works #Harringrove #Billy Hargrove #Steve Harrington #First kiss #Long post tho #Stranger things #AU #Drama Club #Theatre #My Writing #Katerdaddy asked #@Katerdaddy #I am in love with this AU #Fight me #Please

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tekkai · 5 years ago

Note

🅿 Here's your official pass to gush about headcanons for CP-9 (ft. your insert as well if you want)! Go wild!

Thank you Anon I love you for asking. I wasn’t able to go in depth for everyone so I focussed on the few my S/I is closest with. ;^;

Lucci

Lucci is an impossibly light sleeper and grows irritable due to his disrupted sleep schedule. He’s seldom able to sleep soundly through the night and attempts to recover by napping throughout the day.

With the extremely specific and conscious exception of chicken, he is offended if you try to serve him any kind of fowl/poultry. He has a strong preference towards ‘red’ meats such as beef, lamb, and even game such as venison.

Obsession by Calvin Klein, or the closest in-universe alternative. In addition to bathing in Civetone, he carries the scent of brandy and sawdust.

Hattori is more than a mascot, he is Lucci’s service animal. Most of his task serve to mitigate Lucci’s psychological needs. Among other tasks, ventriloquism is part of his work, as it allows Lucci to interact with new people in a roundabout way. Hattori can also ‘sweep’ rooms, alerting him to be certain a space is empty and easing his hypervigilance. Disrupting night terrors and providing sensory stimuli when his feeling overloaded.

In canon we know they’ve been a team for at least 24 years. I would like to believe they’ve been together longer, prior to his arrival. I’ve thought a lot about a possible backstory for him, but we’ve been given so little in canon for me to work with it’s purely speculation.

His father had been a no-name pirate. He left shortly after conception and the two never had any kind of relationship save for their genetics. Ironically he’d be killed by his son later in life.

His mother was a lesser noble with a daughter from a previous marriage. As a baby he was close to his-sister,but he was so young when they died their memories are distorted. He blames the death of his family on the cowdarce of their appointed guard when their city was besieged. This is the root of his philosophy.

Racing pigeons were an important culturally and Hattori is a descendant from his mother’s line of birds.

Lucci is nearly legally blind. He is completely dependent on his contacts to get through the day. Caught without them however, not many people would be able to tell how much he struggles. He’s practiced in hiding his vulnerabilities and can get by without assistance by leveraging his other instincts, but he does struggle. The fact that his eye color changes significantly every time he appears is due to his colored lenses.

Lucci was given the epithet of Massacre Weapon and conditioned to see himself as a tool. He holds himself to an impossible standard and values his worth based solely on his objective usefulness.

He would never admit it to anyone, but he identifies with the local stray cats. Wherever he locates he makes a point to feed and look after the ferals in the area. He’s absolutely blown his cover once or twice confronting anyone stupid enough to harass a colony he’d been overlooking.

Lucci honestly believes he’s working towards a more peaceful world. He does have a ravenous bloodlust, but if that was his only need, he’s strong enough to go rogue. Lucci does not need his license to kill. The only reason he’s remained complaint to the WG’s needs is because they align with his own vision.

Kaku

Kaku and Usopp both originated in the East Blue, have a natural affinity for working ships and are canonically mistaken for one another. I’m not about to claim a direct relation but I don’t think distant cousins would be out of the question or improbable. Kaku was an orphan taken in by WG and underwent intense programing to model him into the agent he is today. It would be reasonable to assume any record of his life before the government got a hold of him would be purged. I don’t think it’ll ever be a plot point but I just like this theory.

Kaku may be the next young prodigy of the group, but he is also the designated baby/baby brother. As an unit it’s just universally accepted that he get’s a ‘pass’, especially in regards to Lucci.

Ussop was able to antagonize Lucci twice after the the Leopard Man had brutalized others for less. It’s a subconscious reaction adn Lucci probably doesn’t even realize why his first instinct wasn’t to kill this pirate the moment he drew his weapon.

He’s an effective agent but he get’s emotionally attached to places and people. Unlike Lucci who finds ideological satisfaction in his work, Kaku is loyal to CP9 due to his relationship with his colleagues. For this reason he’s a more efficient spy.

Kaku has an aversion to alcohol. He’ll drink socially but only if it’s pushed on him.

An avid outdoorsmen. Kaku would spend everyday in the wilderness if he could get away with it. He has a secret cabin he escapes to and uses to decompress after an excessively stressful mision.

Horses love him. Every since he was a child he’s been a natural with horses and no one can figure out why. They just instinctively adore him.

Jabra

Incredibly sensitive to chemical scents. He refuses to enter the laboratory for this very reason.

I’ve touched on Zoan’s influencing their users in regards to Lucci before, and Jabra is no exception. Unlike Lucci however he’s happy to lean into his instincts and takes great pride in being a wolf.

Makes really terrible dog puns.

He prideful and arrogantly confident, but once his audience has left he’s painfully lonely. He craves a ‘pack’ and is hopeless romantic at heart. Has bounced from one failed relationship to another near constantly.

He cares deeply about his fellow agents and views them as a kind of family.

He’s the first to throw insult or a playful jab, but the moment something is wrong he can tell. Jabra can be a jerk but he’s the best person to talk to if someone needs to vent or be comforted by.

Claims it’s nonsense but he’s extremely superstitious. If Kalifa makes a comment about the stars aligning he makes note.

Angel’s self proclaimed older brother.

He’s competitive to a fault. It doesn’t matter what the challenge is he needs to be the best.

Found his Rooster as an abandoned chick and has been raising it ever since. He’s a proud father and carries photos of the bird when it can’t accompany him specifically so he can show his son off. This tactic has never once worked while he was trying to flirt with someone.

Kalifa

She’s mildly allergic to animal fur. It’s nothing significant but she’s forced to carry allergy pills when she’s working with her Zoan colleagues. Her new abilities, however, have been a godsend in keeping the annoying fur at bay.

More so than any of the other agents she struggles with feeling ‘good enough’. Having been born into her role she feels an immense pressure to live up to the expectation that were set for her.

Her mother was also a government agent at one point.

Collects ‘lamb’ themed objects. She doesn’t love having to be around actual farm animals (and despises Jabra’s rooster) but she finds the artistic representations of lambs aesthetically pleasing.

Is secretly really into astrology. She’s complied full birth charts on her co-workers using what little information is available and reasonable estimating the unknowns.

She is extensively musical trained and is by far the most talented agent in that regard.

Angel

Not a Ciphor Pol agent. Not a government agent. Not even a marine. But since you were kind enough to include her, she’ll get a guest feature.

Angel was blessed with a powerful fruit but cursed with the lack of willpower to use it properly.

She can be friendly but it takes a long time before she can fully trust someone.

Used the name Lucifer before settling down and trying to start a new life for herself.

She descended from the upper vearths and is confused when people down here talk about religion. To her “God” is an epithet you can earn and a position of power in the sky islands. She’d interacted with Enel and caught wind that he’d ascended and is thoroughly confused every time someone makes an offhand religious comment or sees an act of devotion, ‘cause god is kind of prick?’. She’s never commented on her confusion. When her wedding was planned to take place in a chapel she was horrified for reasons that weren’t clear to anyone else present.

Since that was the only part she had an objection to the planner in charge caved and re-scheduled the event to an outdoor venue.

Terribly pyrophobic. Ironically the devil is not okay around an open flame.

#Anonymous #Speak of the Devil: And They'll Answer #Furry Husband #Paw Patrol 🐾#Mountain Wind #Temp: Kalifa Tag #The Devil Walks Among Us #f/o #self shipping community #I've been hesitant to post because I think it's obvious where I'm projecting but we'll see #This Ship is a Galleon #🔥: Satanic Scriptures

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may8344 · 4 years ago

Text

The Journey of a Forgotten Soldier (Levi x OC

Relationships:

Alana Frey (OC)Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)/Original Female Character(s)Levi Ackerman/Alana FreyFurlan Church/Original Character(s)Furlan Church/Alana Frey

Characters:

Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin)Furlan ChurchIsabel MagnoliaAlana Frey (OC) - CharacterErwin SmithHange ZoëPetra RalGunther SchultzEld JinnOluo BozadoKeith ShadisSpecial Operations Squad | Squad Levi

Additional Tags:

Graphic Description of CorpsesBlood and InjuryViolenceMurder

Summary:

Alana Frey, a girl born in the Underground City, longed to see the true sunlight every morning that she would wake up. Alongside her comrades: Furlan Church, Isabel Magnolia, and Levi, Alana’s life as a thug continued with no way around it; until the sudden day she and her companions were offered the deal of a lifetime.

“Once you complete this job, not only will you be generously compensated for your work,

but you will also earn the right to live above ground.”

Word Count: 2.1k

---

Chapter 10: When It Rains, It Pours

Before the expedition beyond the walls, Erwin took it upon himself to teach the Scout’s about his new long-distance scouting formation. Each soldier was seated in a classroom, avidly listening. The blond squad leader hung up a poster with the formation drawing on it.

In the centre, there were three marks in a straight line showing where the wagons were to be located. It was encircled by the Cart Guard Teams. To its left and right, there were lines that consisted of inexperienced soldiers who were known as the Relay team. It was their job to shoot off flares bidirectionally to alert the soldiers around them. Finally, in a half circle around the front of the formation, there was the Vanguard who sighted and alerted the Commander of Titans.

Each soldier looked at it with awe, shocked to see such a formidable plan.

“Unlike previous surveys,” Erwin began, “this time the teams will spread out. The foremost objective is to strengthen our scouting ability. We’ll deploy soldiers at regular intervals at a distance that will ensure a clear view of all directions. We’ll advance while maintaining the greatest scouting and communication range.”

Furlan crossed his arms, a smile playing on his face. “I see, so the Vanguard becomes the eyes of the entire group.” In all honesty, he was very impressed by the idea. As a fellow strategist, he admired the thought put into the formation.

“By sharing information on the locations of Titans with the whole Corps, we’ll avoid as much contact as possible,” Erwin explained. “The primary method of communication will be these signal flares.” He lifted up a little metal mechanism. It’s shape reassembled a pistol. It had a round barrel, the end where you put the round cartridges that determined the color sent. The signal gun was simple, with a little wheel shaped part that worked as the hammer. Near the handle grip was the trigger. “Well judge the situation based on the color of the smoke.

“Of course, exceptions are inevitable, but most of the time the ones firing the flares will be the frontline scouting squads. The squad that spots a Titan will first shoot up a red signal flare. Neighboring squads will then confirm the color of the smoke and shoot up red signal flares towards the centre as quickly as possible. When it’s relayed to the centre, the command squad will change direction and fire a green signal flare to indicate the new direction for the entire formation.”

“I see,” Furlan nodded in his chair. “It’s far quicker than running around on horses to relay information.”

Although he sat at the edge of his seat, eager to learn more, Isabel tilted back her chair and prayed for the lesson to be over. She was not one for strategizing, nor taking in a lot of information. Alana tried to process the formation and plans, but most of it went over her head. Eventually, she gave up and laid her chin in her arms on the table.

Once Erwin finished explaining the formation, the quartet met back up with their squad leader and Sairam. They were in the barracks as Flagon began going over their spot in the plan. “Remember,” Flagon started, “the black flare is for emergencies. This is the only thing I hope we get back without using. We’ll be here.” He pointed to an area on the drawn map. “Second row, fourth position. Communications. While we’ll keep pace with the spare horses, our main role will be relaying messages.

“But no matter how good this formation is, we won’t necessarily get past all of the Titans. Just remember, we will be outside of the walls. Something could happen at any time. This squad in particular is lacking cohesion,” he added, glaring at the quartet. “But, we’re blessed with talented people.”

Isabel crossed her arms proudy, “Heh, damn right.”

“You won’t be laughing if you screw this up,” Flagon frowned. “Be careful and keep your eyes open.”

“Okay!” Isabel yelled, throwing her arms up in a cheer. “Let’s do it!”

“Hey, Isabel!” Sairam scolded. “Don’t think it’s going to be fine as long as you ‘do your best.’ Do you fully understand the nature of the situation?”

“Of course,” she fought back. “I mastered all the hard stuff during preliminary training.”

“All right, enough.” Flagon stopped the pair. “Now listen up. I don’t think the four of you know this, but truthfully, we in the Survey Corps aren’t in the best situation right now. Of course, the citizens whose taxes support us, keep a close eye on us. But because it’s so expensive to send the Survey Corps outside the walls we’re also under close scrutiny by the other military branches and even the interior.”

“Huh. So the military isn’t just one big family?” Furlan questioned.

“It’s because we haven’t produced very impressive results against the Titans yet. But one thing is certain.” Flagon gripped his fist in determination. “What happens with this new formation will also decide what happens to use in the future. We’ve got to make it succeed, and get to the next milestone!”

“Yes sir!” Isabel yelled, doing the military salute.

Furlan and Levi looked to her, surprised by the sudden change of heart. However, Alana frowned and looked down.

“What’s this, Magnolia?” Flagon questioned as he leaned in towards the redhead. “So you can do the proper salute after all! Please don’t embarrass me more than you already have."

Isabel looked down at her salute, shocking herself that she had done it off of instinct. Looking towards her three friends, she was met with silence.

[~]

As the moon began rising, more of the soldiers decided to finally fall asleep. The only four still awake were none other than Levi, Isabel, Furlan, and Alana. Levi sat on his bag, which acted like a pillow, deep in thought. The words of the people around him flooded his mind as he remembered the situation they were in.

“You Underground punks!”

“Everyone saw your fight. You’ve given them hope.”

“With you here, we’ll really be able to raise hell.”

“These guys think it’s worth dying for, don’t they?”

“I know you’ve spent your whole lives in a trash heap, but try to keep this place clean.”

“That is the face of a man who wants to kill me and escape.”

“Even so,” Furlan’s voice cut off Levi’s train of thought. “With such a complex formation, we’d be spotted just leaving the ranks. And considering the risk of disrupting the formation, maybe we should give up stealing the documents while we’re outside of the walls.” The blond propped himself from the ground on his elbows and looked up at Levi. “From the rear guard, where we’ll be, it’ll be almost impossible to reach Erwin’s location near the very front without being noticed by someone.”

“Four people would stand out,” Levi agreed.

Furlan leaned back again, arms behind his head on his pillow. “Anyway, we should focus on getting back alive. I mean… we’ve come all this way.”

Alana, who was laying on her side next to Furlan, nodded in agreement. “If we truly ended up killing him, then everything would go to hell real quick. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s a good soldier and a good fighter. He also seems to be quick minded. It’s not worth the chance right now.”

“I’m good with that too,” Isabel chimed in. She laid on her back on the opposite side of Levi, arms behind her head as well. “Of course the documents are important. But I don’t want to get in their way…”

“What the hell Isabel!? Were the cookies that good?” Furlan whisper-yelled.

“That’s not it, dumbass!” She responded, louder than she should be.

“Keep your voice down!” Alana quietly scolded.

“They were good, though,” she mumbled. “I just… I feel like I’m starting to get why these guys come out here. Going outside the walls, I mean. It’s like how we wanted to get up above, out of the Underground. Lots of my friends died in the Underground, dreaming of making it up there. Seeing them, I just felt like I had to get up there. It’s…”

“It’s like leaving the walls behind to kill the Titans,” Levi finished her thought.

“Yeah. Hey, Big Bro.” Isabel turned herself over and propped herself up on her elbows. “You might think this is weird, but talking to everyone today, it felt like they wanted them to go wild outside the walls again. Over and over again.” Her eyelids began drooping as she laid on her pillow. “When we all get to live in the royal capital, let’s take loads of stuff from them pigs, and use it to buy useless junk. That’ll… show them…” After that, she dozed off.

Alana frowned. “She’s getting too serious about this. Soon, she won’t want to follow through.”

“Good grief,” Furlan sighed, rubbing his head. “I’ve got to revise our plan. We’ll need to steal the documents before she starts seriously talking about ‘dedicating our hearts’ or whatever.”

[~]

Once daybreak came, the scouts rushed ahead on their horses.

“All squads deploy the long-distance scouting formation!” Erwin commanded.

Each soldier maneuvered their horse to their dedicated spot, each doing their respective jobs. It hadn’t been long before a red smoke signal was shot into the air on the right side of the Vanguard. Following it, two more were shot off to warn the centre.

Erwin took notice right away as he shot off a green flare in the opposite direction. The relay team confirmed the color and shot off their own green flare, mirroring the angle.

“It’s a brilliant idea,” Levi commented, “for so many units to act like just one living creature.”

“Hmm… Section Commander Erwin really is something,” Furlan agreed. “It looks like the rear guard will make it to the next supply point without so much as seeing a Titan.”

“We’ve changed direction fourteen times already.” Isabel counted on her fingers. “So there were fourteen Titans? More than I thought there would be.”

“It just means, if we stop, it’s all over.”

In the front of the Vanguard, Commander Shadis’ eyes were set on the dark clouds above. “Have you noticed, Erwin?”

“Yes,” Erwin responded calmly, “those clouds don’t look good.”

Before they knew it, the dark clouds formed quickly above the entire formation. Soon enough, rain began pouring from the sky. Fog and rain covered the plains to the point where nothing three feet ahead was visible.

Commander Shadis began to panic. “We’ll lose contact with the other squads like this! Let’s close formation at once!” He commanded Erwin. Turning back to face forwards, he tried to keep his eyes open. “What the hell is this…? For the weather to turn this bad on our first test run…”

Erwin launched a flare into the air, but it was rained out. “The flares won’t work in this…”

Every squad in the formation began to panic. There were no sights of smoke flares, and it was hard to see any other squads nearby. Unlucky enough for them, a heavy fog began to rise from the ground, covering the ground in a mist-like substance.

“Commander, unfortunately, we can no longer scout ahead. We should expect a Titan encounter at any moment.” Erwin notified his commander.

“Damn, it’s a downpour!” Furlan yelled while holding an arm above his eyes, trying to shield them. “Shit, I can’t see anything!”

“Hey, don’t break the ranks! Everyone stick together!” Flagon screamed to his squad, but to no avail. His voice was getting drowned out by the intensity of the rain.

“I can't hear a thing!” Isabel whined while covering her eyes.

“Isabel! Lana! Furlan! Don’t get separated!” Levi shouted. Although when he turned around, he was only able to spot two of his three friends. “Where’s Alana!?”

“Lana!” Furlan shouted, surprised that she had gone missing. He looked all around him to find the raven haired girl. Although he was able to secure the sight of Levi and Isabel next to him, Alana was nowhere to be seen. “Lana, where are you!?”

“Lana!” Isabel screamed. “Stop yelling, you two.” Levi slowed his pace slightly and rode in between them. “It’ll attract the Titans. Let’s assume she stuck with the squad leader. Right now, all we can do is keep going.”

Isabel hollered back to her two companions, “But we’re completely off course!”

“We’ve got no choice but to keep going like this. We shouldn’t be too far from the guys in the squad. If we want to meet with them, we’ve got no choice but to pray that the fog clears up quickly, rather than blindly changing course,” Furlan answered as calmly as possible. While he seemed to be dealing with this level headedly, he was internally panicking at the idea of Alana being missing.

---

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #levi #levi ackerman #fanfic #levi x oc #oc #attack on titan fanfiction #levi ackerman x oc #furlan church #isabel magnolia #alana frey

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kaen-ace-of-diamonds · 4 years ago

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Restraint

Word Count: 3800+ (oneshot)

[AO3]

Genre: Angst With A Hopeful Ending

Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Bakugou Mitsuki, All Might, Shigaraki Tomura, Midoriya Izuku (mentioned)

Summary: Bakugou Katsuki has always thought of himself as a force of nature: more than human, pure fire and fury, meant to burn stronger and brighter than anything else. He hadn't expected that the world would have so many ways to smother him instead.

Written for the @forceofnaturezine!

Warnings for panic attacks, suffocation, and self-hatred.

~0~

He is primal, explosive fire and thunderous sound, and he was never meant to be restrained.

“You’ve been like that since the day you were born, you know that?” Katsuki had appreciated Mom’s gift of a punching bag for his room, but he could do without her strutting in unannounced while he was busy with it. “Kicking and fighting and being fuckin’ relentless.”

Sure, he knows. He hears the story all the time, usually around his birthday: about how he had given his mother hell right from in utero — no matter how much amusement Mom puts into the words, it’s still what’s being said — and then been born too early and had to struggle for weeks just to breathe on his own.

Every year he gets older, the more details — the more memories of fear and preemptive grief — his parents let slip. He knows that it all adds up to one thing: if he weren’t the strongest, he wouldn’t be alive right now.

Katsuki doesn’t think to so much as look over his shoulder at Mom in the doorway, just keeps dutifully pounding away at the bag. The sound of the tape on his fists against the thick fabric has even gotten into his dreams lately, and it doesn’t pause for an instant now.

“You gotta take a break and cool down sooner or later. Look, it’s gotten dark, aren’t you even going to turn the light on?”

His fists are a blur in front of him. “Did you need something?”

“You need food, hero. Dinner’s ready, I made those fire noodles you like. Take a breath and come on.”

He grunts in response. Mom snickers, taking it as a yes, and he hears her footsteps going down the stairs. Right now he doesn’t feel he can stop his arms from moving any more than a normal human could stop a lava flow. And he doesn’t want them to stop moving; the burning in his muscles is pain and life and strength. But he knows that if he’s not down in five minutes it’ll mean a fight.

So with considerable effort, Katsuki does stop. There’s pins and needles from his fingertips to his shoulders. His heart still pounds like a racehorse’s, pulse in his ears. Sweat soaks his hair, his face, his workout shirt, and he can smell the traces of nitro in it. He closes his eyes — no darker there than in the room around him — and breathes it in, listening to the ringing in his ears.

He guesses this is what peace feels like. Contented exhaustion, as his power is built and maintained.

Katsuki takes a long, deep breath, and opens his eyes.

~0~

He had never seen the Sludge Villain coming. It would take him several years to stop kicking himself for his lack of awareness.

How dumb had he been, skating through elementary and middle school thinking he was stronger than anything? That he was enough?

Katsuki has never known anything so disgusting in his life as the mass that engulfs him, not quite solid or liquid. It moves like viscera with a mind of its own, it feels hot and sticky like vomit, and it smells like he’s had his face shoved into raw sewage.

This was the scenario he’d always fantasized about: having some villain pick a fight with him, underestimating him, and then absolutely blasting them away with a laugh and a wild grin. Impressing the heroes. Being a hero.

But he can’t move, let alone use his Quirk. He can’t even breathe.

Oh, god, he can’t breathe.

Katsuki tries. He’s struggling harder than he ever has in his life against the sludgy body forcing its way into his mouth and throat, his ears, and his nose. His blood is on fire, veins constricting and muscles fighting to spasm for lack of air. He’s sure that any second his heart will burst open. Muffled and distant, he can hear explosions, screams, and destruction in the villain’s wake.

Destruction. That’s what he and his Quirk are. Right now he wants to wield it more than anything, but to have it wrested from his hands and used like any common villain would...it makes him want to scream with sheer rage.

(Terror as well, and helplessness — but those are the things he can never acknowledge himself capable of feeling, even in the grip of death.)

His eyes feel like they’re about to burst like grapes from the pressure. His mind can no longer even race with thoughts of escape, it’s slowing, fogging up, as white tendrils snake in on the edges of his vision. He isn’t burning up anymore, he is simply sinking...fading, into death and into obscurity...

“KACCHAN!”

Even with his inner ears blocked up by sludge, that screeching voice manages to pierce straight through.

His eyes slowly roll to the side, and he still can’t see very well. But he’d recognize that bug-eyed green blur scrambling towards him anywhere.

Someone like him should be running away from this monster, as far as those stupid red sneakers could carry him. Especially after everything Katsuki has done to him to push him away, to hurt him, Deku should not be the one charging full throttle to help him, heedless of the villain that could tear him apart from the inside out even faster than it was killing him —

Katsuki can’t even tell what he’s feeling when thick tendrils of sludge fire at Deku, or when they’re hit by a bellowing comet that breaks him free (it takes him a long, dazed few moments to recognize it as All Might, up close and personal). He’s crouched on the street, eyes wide and bloodshot, dripping in sweat and sludge. He isn’t not sure whether it’s disgust or horror or indignant fury that’s making him tremble, on the verge of throwing up.

He walks home by himself, keeping to shadows and back roads, thankful that he had kept enough of his wits about him to escape before the press descended on the scene. They’ll find out his name, of course they will, but he won’t willingly give them anything. The sun is setting by the time he makes it back to his house.

Neither of his parents are home, in the one bit of good luck he’s had today. Katsuki still sneaks in through his bedroom window: no way does he want to track any smell or residue through the house for his mother to detect.

He has his own bathroom, and he has always been comfortable with that. But for the first time, he flinches hard when the shower door shuts behind him. He can’t stand looking at his own body, bruised and dirty and weak, with the light on. If he turns the lights off, there’s a churning in his gut that he can’t stand.

He can’t put a name to it that feels correct. So he decides to just chalk it up to shame and humiliation at what had happened: things that he’s already resolved never to reveal of himself to anyone else, and that will pass from him if he just fights harder. For the rest of the night, he wills himself to ignore the tightness in his chest, the spinning in his head, and the shakes all over his body.

This time, he can push the whole thing down, and pretend it never happened.

~0~

The next time, he doesn’t have a choice. He is put on full display.

Fuck this fucking festival, is the only coherent idea in his brain. The rest is a burning red river of indignant anger, drowning his thoughts and suffusing his body. All he wants to win, he wants to be on top. But he’s not some...cheating glory hound, willing to accept victory through a fluke.

What fucking Half-and-Half had done with their fight was a mortal insult. He wants to indisputably earn what he has, on his own, and he won’t accept less.

What’s so wrong with that? Why did he have to be turned into a joke for it?

He knows he looks like a rabid dog, howling and foaming at the end of its tether — he feels it — but he can’t help it. He might have been able to, even with the chains restraining him to the first place podium by a pole, locking his limbs into place like so much heavy sludge...but for the muzzle.

There’s air holes in the damn thing. Filters and shit. But half his mind and all of his body are convinced that he’s suffocating again. That his failure has meant death, as it has all along. No matter how much he bellows and thrashes, adrenaline flooding his veins, it doesn’t trick his system out of believing that.

The stadium around him is a blur, tinged in scarlet. Katsuki can’t properly make out the hundreds of faces surrounding him, but he knows in his gut that all of them are jeering and laughing at him. His heart pounded so hard it ached.

He should have expected All Might to be the only one to show mercy. (He refuses to think of pity directed at him, and he’s glad to see that the famous smile isn’t one bit strained.)

“Oh, now...this is a little too much.”

He can’t even feel relief when his face is freed from the muzzle. His first reflex isn’t to gulp in air, but to protest his being cheated: “To win first place like this, it’s nothing! It’s not enough to make me number one!”

If All Might is at all perturbed by that, it doesn’t show. “Society will acknowledge you as number one, young Bakugou, whether you do or not. Even if you only think of it like a scar, take this medal, okay?”

It occurs to him that All Might could be too optimistic, he thinks bitterly, standing there like a fool with the gold medal hanging from his jaw. Society will not see him as an object of glory, only mockery. Nobody will take him seriously or let him forget it.

And as per the norm for times like this, he can’t tell whether his old lady is proud of him or disgusted by him.

“You know, your grandparents called while the end of the festival was airing.” Mom leans into the living room, holding the landline phone in one hand and wearing her usual wry grin. “They don’t usually watch ‘hero shows,’ they said, but they had a lot of fun watching you.”

Katsuki grips the arm of the couch tight as he lounges against it. “Yeah? They liked the end?”

“You bet, kid.” Mom sits down on the couch next to him, picks up the TV remote, and turns down the volume on the world news. “Grandma’s hoping you decided to keep the gold medal after all.”

His heart starts thumping again. “Bet she thought it looked cute.”

Her laugh goes straight through his head, like a flurry of needles. “Yeah! You should check out some of the videos going around online of the festival, people are really talking. You’re gonna be a popular guy, Katsuki!”

His palm slams so hard on the arm of the couch that something cracks beneath the upholstery, and he just barely bites back a snarl of red-hot anger as he jumps to his feet. “I don’t have to listen to this shit.”

“Hey!” Mom’s voice goes up a few octaves with indignation as he storms out. “Katsuki! What the hell’s the matter with you, come back here!”

Katsuki does not, grinding his teeth and clenching his fists all the way back up to his bedroom. Whether she’d meant to make fun of him or if she really was clueless, he doesn’t care. The darkness stifles him when he opens his door, and he can’t stand it; he turns the lights up so high they sting his eyes.

His trusty punching bag waits in the corner of the room. Without bothering to tape his hands up, he drops into a grounded stance and pummels it mercilessly, picturing nobody in particular, but with mocking laughter in his head. He doesn’t know how long he’s at it, trying to lose himself in the exertion and pain, but when he’s done, both the leather and his knuckles are bloody.

Both his head and his chest feel like they’re being squeezed in a vice, his body slow and weak. Isn’t there anywhere he can turn that will let him breathe? Anyone who will acknowledge him as a powerful hero instead of something pathetic?

For once, nothing he tries can calm him, only stokes the fires stronger. He feels like he could burn the whole world down if he simply chose. He could. He could...

~0~

...But he wouldn’t. Of course he wouldn’t. His shame has caught up with him. There are things his fire can’t touch.

Like the rest of the world, he blames himself for everything that happened, every domino that fell as the result of his weakness. Everything because he hadn’t been fast enough, smart enough, strong enough. Because he lagged behind the others, in every way. He thinks fleetingly that if his last thought is that image of their backs, he’ll die ripping his throat in a scream of fury.

Hardening sludge? Chains and a muzzle? Nothing compared to the damn magician’s compression spell. It’s like having plastic wrapped tight around his face, like being trapped at the bottom of the ocean, like...nothing he could have imagined. He can’t think of words, only of how awful it is.

Even when he’s been released from it, that doesn’t mean he’d been freed. Dabi’s hand, still burning hot and smelling of smoking flesh, is gripping his neck. Thirst for heroes’ blood radiates from him like heat, and Katsuki has no doubt that if he makes a wrong move, that hand will crush his throat like a soda can. As it is, he can barely choke out his warning to Deku, let alone imbue it with the ferocity needed to repel that idiot, racing to reach him again without a thought for himself...

At the other end of the portal, Katsuki only has time to register gold light and the scent of whiskey, before strong hands from both sides are grabbing him, and his back slams into the solid steel back of a large chair.

Before he can even protest, his hands are locked into another metal box, and he hears several small sounds of buckles clicking shut. By the time he gets his bearings enough to jerk forward — the insides of the box heating up fast as he tries and fails to use his Quirk — he’s strapped in tight.

“There you go, kid.” That smoke-smelling hand is palming his head back, with a sharp smack of skin on skin. “You won’t mess around anymore, right?”

What he wants to do is get fired up, break free and unleash hell on every villain here. But he reflexively freezes instead, once it fully sinks in that he is alone and surrounded by the League of Villains.

“Leave him alone, Dabi.”

Shigaraki Tomura is leaning against the bar, sounding for all the world like this is a casual meetup between friends. Katsuki remembers how this guy had trapped Deku in place at the mall, four fingers around his throat in broad daylight, and knows that he could kill him just as casually. Just the thought makes him dizzy with fear.

Every villain in the room is staring at him, seeming to loom over him, and he feels suddenly very, very small. Between waxy white fingers, Shigaraki’s small red eyes are burning a hole into his own.

“You can relax, Bakugou Katsuki. We’re not the torturing types.”

“Most of us, at least,” Toga Himiko cuts in, playing with a knife. “But if we wanted to kill you, you’d be dead already.”

He forces himself to speak: “So what d’you want, then?”

“Well...to create a scenario that would help us both out, honestly.” Shigaraki turns on the bar’s TV, flipping every couple minutes between news stations. “Listen to how they talk about heroes. About you.”

As time drags on, anger bleeds through his fear. The way this asshole rambles on about society, justice, corruption, heroes, as if he has any right, as if he has a point...

And those eyes are still looking down on him, expecting him to jump on board with it all.

“We’re planning on winning. You like winning too, right?”

Outwardly, Katsuki is as still and quiet as a mouse before a fox. He can’t help but tense as his hands are freed, and he momentarily worries that they’ll sense his intentions. But he shouldn’t have: the bastard doesn’t see it coming at all when a nitro blast blows that dumb fake hand right off his face.

It’s a relief to feel the words spill freely from his mouth:

“Basically, you mean, we wanna hurt people, so please be our friend, right?”

He’s no one’s fucking friend. He’s realized that, and he’s braced himself to fight on his own no matter what tried to hold him back. The fire is roiling deep in his gut.

“Don’t bother.”

His smiles don’t come easily. But he can just barely remember a time when they did: when he had been small and newly powerful, and a mere glimpse of All Might smiling on TV filled him with the same fearless pride.

It’s an imperfect imitation, he thinks as he bares his teeth and forces his lips to stretch wide, and it doesn’t convince him. But maybe it’s enough to convince the League that he's still that fearless, proud, and unyielding, despite how much like a trapped animal he feels.

“I’ve always admired All Might’s victories. No matter what anyone says, that will never change.”

Shigaraki’s expression is blank. But the self-preserving part of Katsuki’s brain, small as it is, notices that the look in his eye is considerably more unhinged. Oh, well: he had been risking himself from the moment he blasted the stupid fuck. He’ll fight himself free with U.A.’s distant blessing, their belief in him and his ideal strength.

They went through all that trouble to mount a huge attack, and all they got was me.

His smile pulls upward, turning lopsided and feral. Despite his spotless record, there’s plenty of people who think he’s nothing but trouble; the U.A. interview had proven that well enough. So he’ll put that to good use. All Might’s victories...weighing the odds, he doesn’t stand a good chance of pulling one of those off. But he’ll do it anyway. He will. He will —

He’s as shocked as any of them when the world suddenly stops for a moment, and then shatters when the man himself bursts through the brick wall, taking instant control of the situation by his very presence. Katsuki is swept away in the strength his idol exudes, without even trying.

Since becoming his student, Katsuki has gotten used to looking All Might in the eyes. But this time feels different. “I’m sure you were scared, but you did well bearing it. It’s okay now, young man!”

All at once, his throat constricted. He feels the ridiculous expression his face is contorting into, and blusters something to save face — heroes do not get scared — but he can’t deny that right now, he’s admiring All Might more than ever. This is a true victory, it has to be.

Then the Nomu appear.

Everything is ruined as easily as it was relieved. Out of nowhere, he’s choking and panicking, cold and thick sludge filling his mouth, throat, and chest again. He blinks, and the golden bar is replaced by darkness and stone. No, not stone: wreckage. And this man...

He spends maybe thirty seconds in All For One’s direct vicinity before All Might charges back onto the scene. But they’re the most horrifying seconds of his life. The faceless man emanates just as much power and certainty of victory as his hero, that takes Katsuki’s breath away, that by all rights he should idolize. But where All Might exudes warmth and protectiveness, All For One exudes ice and venom, lust for the destruction of everything around him.

And destroyed everything is. The scene that plays out before his eyes is more like a nightmare than reality. All Might fights and wins, of course, as he was supposed to do. But to see him battered and bleeding, all the vitality and strength sucked from him, is beyond anything he could have imagined. Even after it’s all over — while he’s being questioned by police, while Mom throws her arms around his neck, both crying with relief and loudly lambasting him for worrying her like that — every part of him is numb.

Katsuki had thought he understood. But he’s been entirely clueless...entirely powerless.

It is all his fault. And the realization feels darker and colder than anything else.

~0~

He sits alone on his bed, letting darkness fall around him.

In hindsight, he doesn’t know what the hell beating up Deku was supposed to have done for him. Prove his own power? Get answers? Free him somehow, from all of this?

Chains, hands, muzzles, filth, fear...so many things had trapped him, restrained him, smothered his fire, when all he wanted was to burn the brightest. That’s what he’s meant to do, isn’t it? What he’s been doing since he was born?

Being relentless is exhausting. And for the first time in his life, he wonders how long he’ll be able to keep it up. Forever?

Of all the things that hold him prisoner, he doesn’t want himself to be one of them. That is a weakness he can’t fathom. But something has to change. If he can’t figure out what it is...then maybe it’s time to see if someone else can.

“Young Bakugou?” He still isn’t used to seeing All Might like this: shoulders hunched, body shriveled like a scarecrow, blue irises small and sharp like candlelight. “What’s the matter?”

He lingers in the doorway of his teacher’s office, not sure how to word it. “It’s...nothing really, it’s just...do you ever get, like, these feelings in your chest? Tight, and...squeezing? Like you’re trapped? Not all the time, I’m not sick or anything, but...sometimes?”

He half-expects All Might to laugh at him. But he listens intently, and speaks very seriously once Katsuki is done. “That sounds familiar, young Bakugou. Sit down, tell me more. When did you start having these feelings?”

Katsuki sits down on the couch, surprised to find that the words finally leaving his mouth make him feel...lighter. Warm in his chest, like sparks floating up from a fire. Like he’d felt when Kirishima had called to him, reached out his hand to free him from that nightmare scene.

(Nobody’s friend? What bullshit that had been.)

Deku, damn him for understanding him so well after all, had known that that was the only way he could abide leaning on somebody else. It still feels strange...but it’s a start. And maybe it really is something he needs.

He’s only human, after all.

#forceofnaturezine #bakugou katsuki #boku no hero academia #kaen's fics

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theofm · 5 years ago

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𝐰𝐨𝐰 𝐢'𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 beyond excited for this ! to say i’m rusty is a total understatement , but we here to survive ( not thrive ) in this house while i get reacquainted .. my theme is also a work in progress because tumblr decided to ATTACK me with an invalid html error , but we’re pushing through . anyway , all that aside ? i go by leesh & i’m living it up in the pacific tz ( pst ) . my pronouns are she / her & if you want to find me on discord i’m at 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴 🥳#9405 .

* 𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐠𝐨𝐬 here and do i have the tea for you . theo is back in bridgehampton for the summer , living off the richards’ family $758 million net worth . must be nice to come back home to the hamptons , i wonder what his fellow class of 2017 grads think of his return . you know , he was known around town as the conciliatory and for bhs senior superlatives he was crowned as most likely to become a motivational speaker . i wonder if that still holds true today , a lot can change when you go off to the university of california — los angeles and study political science & international relations . either way , i bet he is still very venturesome , debonair , heedless and boisterous . hopefully this time next year the plans to get a master’s degree & get accepted into the pathways internship program come true . in the meantime , i look forward to seeing him blast 3005 - childish gambino at every hamptons function . it’s going to be a wild summer home , welcome back . ( jacob elordi ) .

. * › statistics .

𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 : theodore richards 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 : theo 𝐚𝐠𝐞 + 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 : august 29th , 1999 . 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧 : virgo 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 + 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬 : cis male + he / him 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 : new york , new york 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 : bridgehampton , new york 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : heterosexual 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : heteroromantic 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : student 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 : american 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲 : caucasian 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 : english

. * › background .

— born to jacob & marissa richards , the former a composer & the latter to become a u.s. ambassador , theo was the product of a love story for the ages . originally marissa cardiff , his mother was born into a wealthy and politically tied family . the high-status claim that theo is so accustomed to originated here , privileged having been an understatement . so when she'd fallen in love with an aspiring musician & composer , her family was far from happy . her & jacob hardly cared , believing that they could live a happy life without the wealth and support of the cardiff name .

— insert theo , the pride & joy of their marriage & for a while .. the glue keeping them together . co-parenting was the first of many faults for the older richards , disagreeing on matters constantly & beginning to struggle financially without the support of marissa's parents . for the lifestyle his mother wanted him to have , primed & proper with the best brands to his name , she realized she hadn't set him up for success in this way . the household began to erupt in constant fighting , a battle that a toddler was painstakingly unaware of . jacob's anger issues were becoming more & more prominent , continuing on until marissa eventually deemed her current situation no longer ideal for herself nor for theo . she'd gathered their belongings in the middle of the night & vanished without a trace , knowing that the cardiff name & the power attached to it would be enough to protect them both from any repercussions .

— of course , theo's grandparents welcomed them into their home with open arms . they were simply thankful that their daughter was finished chasing what they saw to be a wild fantasy , a romeo & juliet plot destined for failure from the beginning . from then on , they both lived at the cardiff estate . theo , shoved into a private school uniform & sent to become exposed to a world of money & power , his mother rising in the ranks to eventually earn her spot as a successful u.s. ambassador for the country .

— theo was primed and polished to follow in his mother’s footsteps in politics , the expectations in his life having been clear from a very young age . follow the sought-after path of the his family , or suffer the consequences . his grandparents , though loving , pushed obligations onto their grandson to make a name for himself . they ensured that his father was kept out of his life , battling & paying him off until he had eventually stopped trying to reconnect with his son . they told him not to make the same mistake as his mother , bolstered him on a path to becoming notorious in the field of politics . this came with immense pressures , especially with his own mother's absence due to work ( among other things ) & wholly believing that there was no other path that he was fitted to pursue .

— however , it wasn’t as if his path of politics was unwilling in any way , his participation in various policy projects throughout high school & extra-circulars such as model un had piqued theo's interests in a different area –– politics . as with most things , he’s motivated by doing what he can to please & earn the affection of the people around him . with that being said , working in politics would allow him to accomplish that goal . as incentivized as he is by the notion of making a direct difference on the people around him & his country , with such a line of work comes great pressure .

— while theo was completing school & living with his grandparents , his mother was either away for work or entertaining the likes of what theo had come to know as many different men . following her failed marriage , she became a serial dater of only the most elite & wealthiest that bridgehampton had to offer . eventually , she settled down once again .. but only after theo had grown up for practically his whole life disapproving of the men she was with . his step-father & step-sister joined their family in theo's early high school years , & the four of them packed up & moved from the cardiff estate to a mansion of their own .

— moving across the country to attend school at ucla absolutely changed his life . being exposed to a whole new sea of people did wonders for the boy’s social life , & being away from the pressures of his family made theo feel like he could finally breathe for once . he’s coming back to bridgehampton with loads of new memories & stories to share . still , something about high school resonates with him — he holds the connections he made there closer to his heart , & there was no denying his excitement when it came time to return home . he still holds out hope that maybe one day he’ll be reunited with his dad , but he seemed to have vanished off the planet .

. * › personality .

— the need to fight for attention & acknowledgement from his own family remained strong . from this , a desire to be liked above all quickly emerged . displaying an agreeable personality has always been theo's way of life — partially because the extrovert within him prefers it , but also because of the male's constant seeking of approval from those around him . theo struggles to always be the guy that everyone expects him to be & never stumble or make a public mistake .

— high school was certainly a whirlwind for theo . he was one of those individuals that knew practically EVERYONE , & he exerted effort to make himself particularly likeable to all . he was rarely home , either hitting after-school spots with friends or attending parties whenever they were thrown . he was also involved in various clubs , teams & associations , taking any opportunity to meet people . undoubtedly , he managed to receive quite a bit of romantic attention in high school too , & i would have expected him to date during those years .

— paired with his sociability is a certain level of carelessness that tends to get him in trouble . when he's out of the watchful eye of those around him , he is more than likely to conjure up a few schemes despite the risk . he'll jump at any opportunity to follow someone into complete darkness , i really don't know how i produced such an idiot . but , to touch on another side to him –– the hopeless romantic energy is strong in this one . he falls hard & fast , is loyal to a fault & is absolutely a relationship type of guy — even if he’s had his fair share of hookups in high school & at ucla . always being surrounded by people has caused theo to develop a fear of being alone , the root cause behind his attachments to others regardless of the relationship .

— it’s not always easy maintaining his composure . there are many days where theo naturally exudes his personality , genuinely enjoying the company of others & wanting to earn approval from the people he cares about . other times , it proves to be more difficult .. particularly when it comes to controlling his anger & other impulses that can arise when he’s rubbed the wrong way . though his mother & grandparents influence most aspects of his life , his temper is one thing that he inherited from his father . sometimes the thought of bringing dishonour to his family or the repercussions he could face as a result of his actions are enough to settle his irrationality , but every once in a while he loses control . i wouldn't put it past him to have gotten in physical fights or developed some enemies along the way , & his temper could easily lead him to end up in a sticky situation .

— when theo is alone & quiet strikes him , he has a tendency to become buried in the worries & pressures that could very well consume him at any moment . the less he’s by himself , the less he has to think about the future or his fears .. like the possibility of ending up alone . he’ll take any opportunity to be surrounded by people , receiving the social interaction he craves & keeping his mind off of the more negative aspects in his life . if that isn’t an option , theo will turn to spotify or his guitar instead — he’s always played & has found music to help him drown out what he otherwise considers to be the deafening silence that welcomes his deepest & darkest thoughts . once he’s had a night out with those closest to him or he takes time to indulge in his music , he finds it much easier to keep up the demeanour that is always expected of him .

— despite his distaste towards his mother's marriage , the male is rather protective over his step-sister & others that he considers himself closest to . fierce loyalty & protectiveness mixed with his anger are sometimes a recipe for disaster , so i’d watch out for that one .

. * › headcanons .

— aesthetics : blasting music while driving around the city at 3am , setting 5+ alarms and ignoring them all , leather jackets , sneaking out , empty beer bottles , profanity , ray bans , parties , holes in walls , restless nights , takeaway coffee cups .

. * › connections .

if you managed to make it through my rambling mess , i have to thank you . now we get onto the good stuff , huh ? i'm just going to list some of my most wanted connections , but i also love plotting based off chem so you can fully expect me to want to learn everything about your muse in order to do so . without further ado .. here we go !

ex(es) : like i said , theo falls hard & fast & definitely exudes simp energy sometimes . i could see him having dated quite a bit , & i’d be open to ex connections that ended on good terms .. bad terms .. anything at all .

fwb(s) : could be past or present , i mean ? a man has needs DSKJSDNJKSD your muse or him could’ve caught feels which caused them to end it , it could’ve been because he attends school all the way in cali , maybe it’s a new thing now that he’s back in bridgehampton . just gimme ..

bro(s) : theo is honestly SUCH a bro . give me his best guy friends from guy school who he always hung out with .. give me them treating each other’s houses like their own , all the late night shenanigans but the occasional emo talk when things get deep . the more bros the merrier , maybe even a guy squad ?

idk i’m so bad at these , just give me chem based things thanks !

#. * 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 › out of character .#took me long enough and half of u are asleep but #here we are #entitled:intro

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blackkudos · 5 years ago

Text

Percy Julian

Percy Lavon Julian (April 11, 1899 – April 19, 1975) was an American research chemist and a pioneer in the chemical synthesis of medicinal drugs from plants. He was the first to synthesize the natural product physostigmine, plus a pioneer in the industrial large-scale chemical synthesis of the human hormones progesterone and testosterone from plant sterols such as stigmasterol and sitosterol. His work laid the foundation for the steroid drug industry's production of cortisone, other corticosteroids, and birth control pills.

He later started his own company to synthesize steroid intermediates from the wild Mexican yam. His work helped greatly reduce the cost of steroid intermediates to large multinational pharmaceutical companies, helping to significantly expand the use of several important drugs.

Julian received more than 130 chemical patents. He was one of the first African Americans to receive a doctorate in chemistry. He was the first African-American chemist inducted into the National Academy of Sciences, and the second African-American scientist inducted (behind David Blackwell) from any field.

Early life and education

Percy Lavon Julian was born on April 11, 1899, in Montgomery, Alabama, as the first child of six born to James Sumner Julian and Elizabeth Lena Julian, née Adams. Both of his parents were graduates of what was to be Alabama State University. His father, James, whose own father had been a slave, was employed as a clerk in the Railway Service of the United States Post Office, while his mother, Elizabeth, worked as a schoolteacher. Percy Julian grew up in the time of racist Jim Crow culture and legal regime in the southern United States. Among his childhood memories was finding a lynched man hanged from a tree while walking in the woods near his home. At a time when access to an education beyond the eighth grade was extremely rare for African-Americans, Julian's parents steered all of their children toward higher education. Julian attended DePauw University in Greencastle, Indiana. The college accepted few African-American students. The segregated nature of the town forced social humiliations. Julian was not allowed to live in the college dormitories and first stayed in an off-campus boarding home, which refused to serve him meals. It took him days before Julian found an establishment where he could eat. He later found work firing the furnace, waiting tables, and doing other odd jobs in a fraternity house; in return, he was allowed to sleep in the attic and eat at the house. Julian graduated from DePauw in 1920 as a Phi Beta Kappa and valedictorian. By 1930 Julian's father would move the entire family to Greencastle so that all his children could attend college at DePauw. He still worked as a railroad postal clerk.

After graduating from DePauw, Julian wanted to obtain his doctorate in chemistry, but learned it would be difficult for an African-American to do so. Instead he obtained a position as a chemistry instructor at Fisk University. In 1923 he received an Austin Fellowship in Chemistry, which allowed him to attend Harvard University to obtain his M.S. However, worried that white students would resent being taught by an African-American, Harvard withdrew Julian's teaching assistantship, making it impossible for him to complete his Ph.D. at Harvard.

In 1929, while an instructor at Howard University, Julian received a Rockefeller Foundation fellowship to continue his graduate work at the University of Vienna, where he earned his Ph.D. in 1931. He studied under Ernst Späth and was considered an impressive student. In Europe, he found freedom from the racial prejudices that had stifled him in the States. He freely participated in intellectual social gatherings, went to the opera and found greater acceptance among his peers. Julian was one of the first African Americans to receive a Ph.D. in chemistry, after St. Elmo Brady and Dr. Edward M.A. Chandler.

After returning from Vienna, Julian taught for one year at Howard University. At Howard, in part due to his position as a department head, Julian became caught up in university politics, setting off an embarrassing chain of events. At university president Mordecai Wyatt Johnson's request, he goaded white Professor of chemistry, Jacob Shohan (Ph.D from Harvard ), into resigning. In late May 1932, Shohan retaliated by releasing to the local African-American newspaper the letters Julian had written to him from Vienna. The letters described "a variety of subjects from wine, pretty Viennese women, music and dances, to chemical experiments and plans for the new chemical building." In the letters, he spoke with familiarity, and with some derision, of specific members of the Howard University faculty, terming one well-known Dean, an "ass".

Around this same time, Julian also became entangled in an interpersonal conflict with his laboratory assistant, Robert Thompson. Julian had recommended Thompson for dismissal in March 1932. Thompson sued Julian for "alienating the affections of his wife", Anna Roselle Thompson, stating he had seen them together in a sexual tryst. Julian counter-sued him for libel. When Thompson was fired, he too gave the paper intimate and personal letters which Julian had written to him from Vienna. Dr. Julian's letters revealed "how he fooled the [Howard] president into accepting his plans for the chemistry building" and "how he bluffed his good friend into appointing" a professor of Julian's liking. Through the summer of 1932, the Baltimore Afro-American published all of Julian's letters. Eventually, the scandal and accompanying pressure forced Julian to resign. He lost his position and everything he had worked for.

Some happiness for Dr. Julian, however, was to come from this scandal. On December 24, 1935 he married Anna Roselle (Ph.D. in Sociology, 1937, University of Pennsylvania). They had two children: Percy Lavon Julian, Jr. (August 31, 1940 – February 24, 2008), who became a noted civil rights lawyer in Madison, Wisconsin; and Faith Roselle Julian (1944– ), who still resides in their Oak Park home and often makes inspirational speeches about her father and his contributions to science.

At the lowest point in Julian's career, his former mentor, William Martin Blanchard, professor of chemistry at DePauw, threw him a much-needed lifeline. Blanchard offered Julian a position to teach organic chemistry at DePauw University in 1932. Julian then helped Josef Pikl, a fellow student at the University of Vienna, to come to the United States to work with him at DePauw. In 1935 Julian and Pikl completed the total synthesis of physostigmine and confirmed the structural formula assigned to it. Robert Robinson of Oxford University in the U.K. had been the first to publish a synthesis of physostigmine, but Julian noticed that the melting point of Robinson's end product was wrong, indicating that he had not created it. When Julian completed his synthesis, the melting point matched the correct one for natural physostigmine from the calabar bean.

Julian also extracted stigmasterol, which took its name from Physostigma venenosum, the west African calabar bean that he hoped could serve as raw material for synthesis of human steroidal hormones. At about this time, in 1934, Butenandt and Fernholz, in Germany, had shown that stigmasterol, isolated from soybean oil, could be converted to progesterone by synthetic organic chemistry.

Private sector work: Glidden

In 1936 Julian was denied a professorship at DePauw for racial reasons. DuPont had offered a job to fellow chemist Josef Pikl but declined to hire Julian, despite his superlative qualifications as an organic chemist, apologizing that they were "unaware he was a Negro". Julian next applied for a job at the Institute of Paper Chemistry (IPC) in Appleton, Wisconsin. However, Appleton was a sundown town, forbidding African Americans from staying overnight, stating directly: "No Negro should be bed or boarded overnight in Appleton."

Meanwhile, Julian had written to the Glidden Company, a supplier of soybean oil products, to request a five-gallon sample of the oil to use as his starting point for the synthesis of human steroidal sex hormones (in part because his wife was suffering from infertility). After receiving the request, W. J. O'Brien, a vice-president at Glidden, made a telephone call to Julian, offering him the position of director of research at Glidden's Soya Products Division in Chicago. He was very likely offered the job by O'Brien because he was fluent in German, and Glidden had just purchased a modern continuous countercurrent solvent extraction plant from Germany for the extraction of vegetable oil from soybeans for paints and other uses.

Julian supervised the assembly of the plant at Glidden when he arrived in 1936. He then designed and supervised construction of the world's first plant for the production of industrial-grade, isolated soy protein from oil-free soybean meal. Isolated soy protein could replace the more expensive milk casein in industrial applications such as coating and sizing of paper, glue for making Douglas fir plywood, and in the manufacture of water-based paints.

At the start of World War II, Glidden sent a sample of Julian's isolated soy protein to National Foam System Inc. (today a unit of Kidde Fire Fighting), which used it to develop Aer-O-Foam, the U.S. Navy's beloved fire-fighting "bean soup." While it was not exactly Julian's brainchild, his meticulous care in the preparation of the soy protein made the fire fighting foam possible. When a hydrolyzate of isolated soy yuh protein was fed into a water stream, the mixture was converted into a foam by means of an aerating nozzle. The soy protein foam was used to smother oil and gasoline fires aboard ships and was particularly useful on aircraft carriers. It saved the lives of thousands of sailors and airmen. Citing this achievement, in 1947 the NAACP awarded Julian the Spingarn Medal, its highest honor.

Steroids

Percy's research at Glidden changed direction in 1940 when he began work on synthesizing progesterone, estrogen, and testosterone from the plant sterols stigmasterol and sitosterol, isolated from soybean oil by a foam technique he invented and patented. At that time clinicians were discovering many uses for the newly discovered hormones. However, only minute quantities could be extracted from hundreds of pounds of the spinal cords of animals.

In 1940 Julian was able to produce 100 lb of mixed soy sterols daily, which had a value of $10,000 ($86,000 today) as sex hormones. Julian was soon ozonizing 100 pounds daily of mixed sterol dibromides. The soy stigmasterol was easily converted into commercial quantities of the female hormone progesterone, and the first pound of progesterone he made, valued at $63,500 ($543,000 today), was shipped to the buyer, Upjohn, in an armored car. Production of other sex hormones soon followed.

His work made possible the production of these hormones on a larger industrial scale, with the potential of reducing the cost of treating hormonal deficiencies. Julian and his co-workers obtained patents for Glidden on key processes for the preparation of progesterone and testosterone from soybean plant sterols. Product patents held by a former cartel of European pharmaceutical companies had prevented a significant reduction in wholesale and retail prices for clinical use of these hormones in the 1940s. He saved many lives with this discovery.

On April 13, 1949, rheumatologist Philip Hench at the Mayo Clinic announced the dramatic effectiveness of cortisone in treating rheumatoid arthritis. The cortisone was produced by Merck at great expense using a complex 36-step synthesis developed by chemist Lewis Sarett, starting with deoxycholic acid from cattle bile acids. On September 30, 1949, Julian announced an improvement in the process of producing cortisone. This eliminated the need to use osmium tetroxide, which was a rare and expensive chemical. By 1950, Glidden could begin producing closely related compounds which might have partial cortisone activity. Julian also announced the synthesis, starting with the cheap and readily available pregnenolone (synthesized from the soybean oil sterol stigmasterol) of the steroid cortexolone (also known as Reichstein's Substance S), a molecule that differed from cortisone by a single missing oxygen atom; and possibly 17α-hydroxyprogesterone and pregnenetriolone, which he hoped might also be effective in treating rheumatoid arthritis, but unfortunately they were not.

On April 5, 1952, biochemist Durey Peterson and microbiologist Herbert Murray at Upjohn published the first report of a fermentation process for the microbial 11α-oxygenation of steroids in a single step (by common molds of the order Mucorales). Their fermentation process could produce 11α-hydroxyprogesterone or 11α-hydroxycortisone from progesterone or Compound S, respectively, which could then by further chemical steps be converted to cortisone or 11β-hydroxycortisone (cortisol).

After two years, Glidden abandoned production of cortisone to concentrate on Substance S. Julian developed a multistep process for conversion of pregnenolone, available in abundance from soybean oil sterols, to cortexolone. In 1952, Glidden, which had been producing progesterone and other steroids from soybean oil, shut down its own production and began importing them from Mexico through an arrangement with Diosynth (a small Mexican company founded in 1947 by Russell Marker after leaving Syntex). Glidden's cost of production of cortexolone was relatively high, so Upjohn decided to use progesterone, available in large quantity at low cost from Syntex, to produce cortisone and hydrocortisone.

In 1953, Glidden decided to leave the steroid business, which had been relatively unprofitable over the years despite Julian's innovative work. On December 1, 1953, Julian left Glidden after 18 years, giving up a salary of nearly $50,000 a year (equivalent to $480,000 in 2019) to found his own company, Julian Laboratories, Inc., taking over the small, concrete-block building of Suburban Chemical Company in Franklin Park, Illinois.

On December 2, 1953, Pfizer acquired exclusive licenses of Glidden patents for the synthesis of Substance S. Pfizer had developed a fermentation process for microbial 11β-oxygenation of steroids in a single step that could convert Substance S directly to 11β-hydrocortisone (cortisol), with Syntex undertaking large-scale production of cortexolone at very low cost.

Oak Park and Julian Laboratories

Circa 1950, Julian moved his family to the Chicago suburb of Oak Park, becoming the first African-American family to reside there. Although some residents welcomed them into the community, there was also opposition. Before they even moved in, on Thanksgiving Day, 1950, their home was fire-bombed. Later, after they moved in, the house was attacked with dynamite on June 12, 1951. The attacks galvanized the community, and a community group was formed to support the Julians. Julian's son later recounted that during these times, he and his father often kept watch over the family's property by sitting in a tree with a shotgun.

In 1953, Julian founded his own research firm, Julian Laboratories, Inc. He brought many of his best chemists, including African-Americans and women, from Glidden to his own company. Julian won a contract to provide Upjohn with $2 million worth of progesterone (equivalent to $17 million today). To compete against Syntex, he would have to use the same Mexican yam, obtained from the Mexican barbasco trade, as his starting material. Julian used his own money and borrowed from friends to build a processing plant in Mexico, but he could not get a permit from the government to harvest the yams. Abraham Zlotnik, a former Jewish University of Vienna classmate whom Julian had helped escape from the Holocaust, led a search to find a new source of the yam in Guatemala for the company.

In July 1956, Julian and executives of two other American companies trying to enter the Mexican steroid intermediates market appeared before a U.S. Senate subcommittee. They testified that Syntex was using undue influence to monopolize access to the Mexican yam. The hearings resulted in Syntex signing a consent decree with the U.S. Justice Department. While it did not admit to restraining trade, it promised not to do so in the future. Within five years, large American multinational pharmaceutical companies had acquired all six producers of steroid intermediates in Mexico, four of which had been Mexican-owned.

Syntex reduced the cost of steroid intermediates more than 250-fold over twelve years, from $80 per gram in 1943 to $0.31 per gram in 1955. Competition from Upjohn and General Mills, which had together made very substantial improvements in the production of progesterone from stigmasterol, forced the price of Mexican progesterone to less than $0.15 per gram in 1957. The price continued to fall, bottoming out at $0.08 per gram in 1968.

In 1958, Upjohn purchased 6,900 kg of progesterone from Syntex at $0.135 per gram, 6,201 kg of progesterone from Searle (who had acquired Pesa) at $0.143 per gram, 5,150 kg of progesterone from Julian Laboratories at $0.14 per gram, and 1,925 kg of progesterone from General Mills (who had acquired Protex) at $0.142 per gram.

Despite continually falling bulk prices of steroid intermediates, an oligopoly of large American multinational pharmaceutical companies kept the wholesale prices of corticosteroid drugs fixed and unchanged into the 1960s. Cortisone was fixed at $5.48 per gram from 1954, hydrocortisone at $7.99 per gram from 1954, and prednisone at $35.80 per gram from 1956. Merck and Roussel Uclaf concentrated on improving the production of corticosteroids from cattle bile acids. In 1960 Roussel produced almost one-third of the world's corticosteroids from bile acids.

Julian Laboratories chemists found a way to quadruple the yield on a product on which they were barely breaking even. Julian reduced their price for the product from $4,000 per kg to $400 per kg. He sold the company in 1961 for $2.3 million (equivalent to $20 million today). The U.S. and Mexico facilities were purchased by Smith Kline, and Julian's chemical plant in Guatemala was purchased by Upjohn.

In 1964, Julian founded Julian Associates and Julian Research Institute, which he managed for the rest of his life.

National Academy of Sciences

He was elected to the National Academy of Sciences in 1973 in recognition of his scientific achievements. He became the second African-American to be inducted, after David Blackwell.

Legacy and honors

In 1950, the Chicago Sun-Times named Percy Julian the Chicagoan of the Year.

Since 1975, the National Organization for the Professional Advancement of Black Chemists and Chemical Engineers has presented the Percy L. Julian Award for Pure and Applied Research in Science and Engineering.

In 1975, Percy L. Julian High School was opened on the south side of Chicago, Illinois as a Chicago public high school.

In 1980, the science and mathematics building on the DePauw University campus was rededicated as the Percy L. Julian Mathematics and Science Center. In Greencastle, Indiana, where DePauw is located, a street was named after Julian.

In 1985, Hawthorne School in Oak Park, Illinois, was renamed Percy Julian Middle School.

Illinois State University, where Julian served on the board of trustees, named a hall after him.

A structure at Coppin State University is named the Percy Julian Science Building.

In 1990, he was inducted into the National Inventors Hall of Fame.

In 1993 Julian was honored on a stamp issued by the United States Postal Service.

In 1999, the American Chemical Society recognized Julian's synthesis of physostigmine as a National Historic Chemical Landmark.

In 2002, scholar Molefi Kete Asante listed Percy Lavon Julian on his list of 100 Greatest African-Americans.

In 2011, the qualifying exam preparation committee at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine was named for Percy Julian.

In 2014, Google honored him with a Doodle.

In 2019, asteroid 5622 Percyjulian, discovered by Eleanor Helin at Palomar Observatory in 1990, was named in his memory. The official naming citation was published by the Minor Planet Center on 27 August 2019 (M.P.C. 115893).

Nova

documentary

Ruben Santiago-Hudson portrayed Percy Julian in the Public Broadcasting Service Nova documentary about his life, called "Forgotten Genius". It was presented on the PBS network on February 6, 2007, with initial sponsorship by the Camille and Henry Dreyfus Foundation and further funding by the National Endowment for the Humanities. Approximately sixty of Julian's family members, friends, and work associates were interviewed for the docudrama.

Production on the biopic began at DePauw University's Greencastle campus in May 2002 and included video of Julian's bust on display in the atrium of the university's Percy Lavon Julian Science and Mathematics Center. Completion and broadcasting of the documentary program was delayed in order for Nova to commission and publish a matching book on Julian's life.

According to University of Illinois historian James Anderson in the film, "His story is a story of great accomplishment, of heroic efforts and overcoming tremendous odds...a story about who we are and what we stand for and the challenges that have been there and the challenges that are still with us."