#i hardly think about my old classmates anyways. it's not like they had much of an impact on me anyways | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

Text

Leona, Floyd: Feud within the Family

They caught him mid-yawn in the initial art 😭 I SAID THIS TO SOME FRIENDS (not even in a thirsty way, just a casual comment) AND THEY INSTANTLY JUMPED ON ME OTL (if any of them are reading this, yes, I am calling your asses OUT for bullying/j)

I thought the Groovy was of Mufasa, Sarabi, and baby Simba but apparently it’s adult Simba, Nala, and their daughter, Kiara?? 😭 Most animated lions look the same to me, so I never would have caught that… Anyway, L*ona looks absolutely unhinged and super smug there… Bro looks like he’s talking down to someone groveling at his feet for mercy—

A Tale as Old as Time.

"Heeeeeey~"

Leona turned away from the call. Cool, nonchalant—theoretically, anyway.

"Heeey."

He pretended to be absorbed in a stone bust of the King of Beasts. The meddling source of the sound (unfortunately) followed him, much as he tried to shunt it out of his ears.

Leona sighed deeply.

Aaaah, what a pain in the ass. I’m really not in the mood for seafood.

"HEY."

A growl threaded through Floyd’s voice as he stomped over, thrusting his face into Leona’s. The lion beastman groaned. He recognized that fire in Floyd’s eyes all too well.

Determination.

“Quit runnin’ away and fight me already,” Floyd gruffly demanded.

He had been tailing Leona all day, pelting him with the same challenge over and over—alas, to no avail. Now he had the third year boxed in a dark, isolated corner. Floyd gleefully gnashed his teeth, raring to go for a scrap.

He won’t take a regular old ‘no’ for an answer. If it’s come to this then…

He’d lead his pursuer off the beaten path.

“Hmph, how rude,” Leona grunted, at last granting the eel his attention. “Can’t a man appreciate the arts without being accosted? I’d rather not be bothered while I’m in the middle of browsing.”

“You? An art aficionado?” Floyd scoffed in disbelief. “Fat chance, Sea Lion-senpai. You’ve never been into that stuff. It’s not nice to lie to your juniors like that.”

“Then you don’t know me as well as you think you do,” Leona drawled, his voice as smooth as liquid velvet. He took to telling untruths so easily, it was an innate skill. “I’m a prince with refined taste. Can’t you tell I’m over the moon and stars to be at this exhibition?”

Floyd deadpanned. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep standing up just like Jellyfish-chan.”

“Nonsense. I’m absolutely thrilled. In fact, i can hardly contain my excitement. It’s taking every ounce of my energy to not talk my classmates’ ears off about the illustrious history of Sunset Savanna.”

“Yeah? Prove it, then.”

Tch. Should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. Leona grimaced internally.

He was careful to maintain his relaxed poise as he gestured to the painting that was mounted along the wall. “Take a look at that.”

“Huh, what is it?”

Underneath a cornflower sky and thin, cottony clouds, was a red-maned lion and his lioness. Between them, a mandrill cradled a wide-eyed cub. The composition made it clear: it was a painting of a family.

“One of the great kings of the past,” Leona simpered, irony oozing from his every word, “and one of the great kings of the future, if that furball is anything to go by. The parents must cherish their child a great deal. Spoiled and pampered like that… surely the cub will make for a splendid ruler.”

“Ehehehe~ You sound so salty there, Sea Lion-senpai.” Floyd leaned closer, taunting him. “Reciting sappy stories like that don’t suit you.”

“So I’ve been told.” Leona folded his arms and snorted. When he beheld the painting, disgust and envy curled in the pit of his stomach. “… Reminds me of my brother. His life’s always been one big fairy tale—and now he’s got a wife and a kid of his own.”

“Heh. So Sea Lion-senpai definitely feels like the odd one out.”

Leona glared at his junior. “… You don’t have a lick of tact, do you?”

“Ahahah!” Floyd cackled, all too carefree. “What’re you so mad about? ‘S not a bad thing.”

Leona watched him with a wary eye. Floyd paced lazily, as though he were a lion himself. Stewing in the shade, waiting for his next meal to skitter into his waiting paw.

“Who wants to fit in with family? That’s boring. It’s better to just do what you want and be yourself. Don’t sweat the small stuff.

“I hate it when people say Jade and I are the same or they mix us up. Jade’s Jade and I’m me. Two different people.”

“I’m sure your dear brother would shed a tear hearing you talk like that.”

Floyd just shrugged. “I don’t get it. You wanna be like that? It’d be weird.”

“But it’s not about fitting in,” he wanted to snap. “It’s about wanting to shine, to stand out, to be seen. For that moment out of the shadows and basking in the sun.”

They look at me, but they don’t see me.

They never will.

People played in the daytime while sleeping through the lovely night. In the savanna governed by the sun, shadows were scorned and casted aside.

Leona’s throat dried. The moisture gone, as if hungrily devoured by his King’s Roar.

He forced his voice to come again, snarky and sarcastic.

“Hmph, I never said that. You slimy bunch grew up at the bottom of the sea, where the light cannot touch. I’d think you understand what it’s like clawing and kicking and fighting every day to survive.”

And just barely making it out in one piece.

His hand drifted toward the scar over his left eye.

“… Anyway, I wasn’t askin’ for your advice. You should stick to annoying that octopunk.” Leona smirked. Again, concealing. “Keep it in the ‘family’, you know.”

Floyd stared at him intently. Then he let out a burst of laughter. “You’re a riot, Sea Lion-senpai! I don’t even feel light fighting you anymore. It’s just as fun to shoot the shit with ya.”

“That so? You flatter me. Surely there are better conversationalists in Octavinelle, with all those silver tongues.” Leona made a shooting motion with his hands. “You should run back to your school of fish to compare.”

Another fit of sporadic giggles. When they, at last, died down to an eerie quiet, Floyd’s whisper was as loud as a shout in a cavern.

“At the end of the day… we’re both beings that lurk in the dark~”

Leona grunted. “… Who needs the light anyway?”

Deep down, he knew the truth.

It was him who needed that light the most.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Leona Kingscholar #Floyd Leech #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Leona birthday takeover #something no one asked for #spoilers

138 notes · View notes

bakugoushotwife · 1 year

Text

Threads of Fate // s. gojo x fem!reader

a/n: the series is hereeeee!! thank you to my lovely discord server who helped me title this and listened to all my ramblings and plans for the series! I hope you guys love chapter one!

spotify playlist for chapter by chapter vibes!

here’s a Spotify playlist for the first chapter :)

cw: cursing, a little meanness, gojo, unedited

wc: 4.6k

series masterlist // chapter two

You were born special, that much was clear. A baby girl born to the Jujutsu Clan of Nashville sorcerers with the genetic gift of the Quelling Eyes, something your twin was not so lucky to receive. Your brother was fraternal to you, younger by just a few minutes. He had an equally terrifying and special ability, but it was apparent that his twin was destined for greater things. The two of you were number one and two in the western circuit, respectively.

It was lonely at the top, even if your twin brother was right behind you. The higher ups expected more out of you than your classmates. They gave you harder missions and even assigned task forces under your guidance. You were expected to do things with ease, blessed with powers and techniques that no one in America had seen before, other than the genetic Quelling Eyes, and not much was known about them. You were the first line of offense and defense in any unexpected situation, even though you were just a fifteen year old girl. They made it a point to keep your brother separate on his own teams, not keen to let you two rely on each other. American sorcerers were war machines, and nothing else. You were a perfect weapon.

Well, nearly perfect, anyway.

It was a day like any other, the humid summer atmosphere filling your lungs with rocks as you tried to train your hand to hand combat. The sky was especially blue and clear that day, the sun exceptionally bright. Your twin tauntingly blocked every kick and strike you threw his way, the two of you in a battle of ego. You were two sides of one sadistic coin, pushing each other to be the most powerful version of yourselves. He couldn’t stomach your designation as number one, and you were determined to not let him surpass you.

“Y/N. Pack your bags. You’re going to Tokyo.” Your drill sergeant said, interrupting your sparring contest just as you were starting to make him stumble. You groan and dramatically turn your nose in the air, not even really noting the words, just that your sergeant spoke. “You leave tomorrow. Be ready, L/N.” He read off a piece of official letterhead.

“Hah?” Your brother furrowed his brows in disgust. “Tokyo? What for?” He asked, unstrapping the velcro of his protective gloves.

You nod, tearing yours off with your teeth, unbothered to do it the easy way. “Yeah! What for?” You ask, perfectly manicured brow raised.

Your instructor seemed annoyed, though that was to be expected with you in his charge. A bubbly but egotistical teen girl with the ability to back up her loud mouth was hardly his ideal student. He glanced back at the paper. “The Commission thinks you’re ready for your own squad, but they want you to help our allies in Tokyo to polish your skills. Says something here about training with their number one sorcerer, Satoru Gojo.”

Your brother kicks the training dummy, discontent to see you sent off elsewhere. “She’s an American sorcerer. She should stay in America.”

You roll your eyes a bit. He was every bit as much of a dramatic egoist as you. You clap your hand on his shoulder. “Rest easy, bro. You know that means you get to be number one while I’m gone.” You tease, poking your tongue out at him.

He deadpans. “Whatever, dipshit. Try not to destroy the city you’re in, this time.” He huffs, cleaning up the equipment you two drug out onto the football field today. Jujutsu School of Nashville was much like any other American highschool, though it had a much more military-esque authority presence. The school was your average brick foundation, lengthy hallways that lead to empty classrooms to study techniques and the major clans of the United States. Being a part of the Southern District gave your education a questionable undertone, as the south hasn’t been notable for their schooling over the years. Perhaps that’s why the Commission sought to send you on missions like these every so often, getting you experience with other teachers and techniques. The last time they sent you away had been talk of the school for years, you took down two special grade curses but happened to destroy the Australian village you were fighting in.

“That happened once!” You huff, slapping your brother on the shoulder. “And the special grades woulda tore it up anyway, so I don’t wanna hear it!”

Your twin just smiles and shakes his head. Your teacher sighs at the bickering, and just tiredly waves the letter at you, repeating, “5pm. Tomorrow, L/N.” Before he walks away. He sighs to himself, hopefully you would survive this round of missions too, but he could never be too sure with the U.S. Commission seemingly testing to see how much you could take before you snapped.

It’s lonely at the top. You’ve known this since you were old enough to understand your power, and you’d estimate that realization at around five or six. You were able to overcome most of these struggles due to your bond with your twin and the repeated message that you were fated for a higher purpose.

Though your brother wouldn’t be coming with you to Tokyo. This would be for you to navigate alone, and you were feeling this loneliness on your sixteen hour flight to Japan. The Academy has been all you’ve known since you started there. Once the severity of your power was realized, the government paid a pretty penny for you and your brother. Family loyalty hardly meant anything compared to the almighty dollar, plus, you were quite the unruly pair.

Still, you had each other, and that had been enough. Until they separated you too, all in an effort to increase your power.

Power. Tch. You were the best there is, plain and simple. All their tactics worked, paired with your natural prowess, you were sure there was nothing left to learn and no one on earth who could beat you. Your brother was extremely strong, able to bend time to his will. It’s nearly unconquerable, yet you can still best him every time. So who was this Satoru Gojo and why do you give a flying fuck? Your higher ups constantly seeking to sharpen your craft would soon realize you were as powerful as they come. Yet still, you didn’t want to walk in blind, nor show all the cards in your hand when you meet your new classmates for the first time. Your brother scored some books about the Gojo clan of Tokyo, highlighting important sections for you to study on your trip.

You decide to pick up the heaviest book, leatherbound and dusty. It was about inherited techniques and idiosyncrasies within the clan, and your eyes land on the highlighted passage.

“Mukagen Rikugan: The Six Eyes. A genetic power rarely inherited within the Gojo clan. They are not a cursed technique that needs to be activated—”

That certainly piques your interest. Your Quelling Eyes are genetic as well, but they are very draining to your cursed energy. This means he has the opposite ability, you can’t help but chuckle through your nose at this. You read on to learn more about your future forced companion.

“But an innate technique that grants the user the ability to master Limitless. Several hundred years must pass in between wielders and there will be no two Six Eyes users alive at the same time.”

Hm, that’s certainly interesting. Your eyes were passed generation to generation, with no limits to how many wielders can be alive at the same time. You figure there must be massive amounts of powers involved, and already the mention of another innate technique that he surely possessed to be hailed as the best in the east.

“A Six Eyes bearer has immense perception and unrivaled visual prowess far beyond that of any other sorcerer. Their eye-sight is comparable to high-definition infrared vision, which allows them to see even when their eyes are covered. They can easily see from several kilometers away–”

You figure that has to be a large distance, and you know you’re in for trouble in Tokyo. You know enough of the language to work your way around, but conversions like these were never your strong suit. The power sounds insanely strong, and you find yourself excited to meet someone with as much natural talent as you.

“---and distinctively tell apart different figures within that range. The Six Eyes can see the flow of cursed energy, empowering their bearer with the ability to read an individual’s cursed technique in use and determine its function. They can even identify between different types of cursed energy.”

You smile to yourself. What an interesting ability. Your Quelling Eyes worked similarly, you too could differentiate between the types of cursed energy, but you specialized in repressing the circulation of it. Though the power took a lot of your own cursed energy to use for long amounts of time, it was insanely useful. Satoru Gojo would know what your cursed technique is upon meeting, but you wondered if he would discover your Quelling Eyes as well.

Next was the books about the Limitless technique. It too, was an inherited family technique, though it seems only a user of the Six Eyes can maximize its potential.

“Infinity is the base state of Limitless and is essentially the power to stop. The technique works the same way convergent and divergent sequences do in mathematics. The infinity is the convergence of an immeasurable series, anything that approaches the infinity will slow down and never reach the user. This is because the technique takes the finite amount of space between the two objects and divides it an infinite amount of times. The invisible barrier created by the Infinity can be expanded to keep harmful substances away from the user or to overpower someone attempting to neutralize their technique.”

You study some more notes on the subject, noting that the teen can’t actively support Infinity at all times just yet, having to decidedly turn it on and off at his choice. Either way, your ocular prowess should be enough to overpower it, and sneak your actual technique in, whether he’s expecting it or not. You hadn’t met the boy yet, but he was your new rival. It was clear he held tremendous ability, but you also wonder if he’s ever been challenged in the way he’s about to be. You hope to be a surprise, noting some records your brother tracked down that told of Satoru’s unbearable attitude and ego-centrism. You grin to yourself, knowing your teachers probably spoke of you in a similar fashion.

You gaze out the window of your airplane, wondering what this meeting would hold for you. Which one of you would be humbled in this affair? You can’t help but smile as you picture a boy out there just as if not more powerful than you. You wondered if he felt the weight of the world pressing in around him, too. You wanted to know if he experienced that same loneliness that you felt, with everybody looking at you like a superhero instead of a little girl. Would he be relieved to find someone who knew what that felt like?

When you step out of the terminal in Tokyo, you aren’t sure what to expect. It’s not as if your school gave you many details to begin with, though they probably didn’t receive many themselves. The Commission was the federal level of sorcerer authority, so they only gave out what they needed to. You look around for anyone reeking of cursed energy, figuring that would be your best bet. But you’re met with an older man holding up a sign with your name on it. You arch a brow, chuckling softly to yourself as you adjust your backpack on your shoulder. It made you feel like you were in some romantic comedy, though the driver definitely couldn’t be the main love interest.

You approach him anyway, dragging your suitcase behind you. He nodded his head to greet you. “Y/N L/N?”

You nod back, giving him a polite smile. “In the flesh.”

He seems unamused. He opens the trunk and loads your luggage in, leaving you grimacing awkwardly and debating if you should just duck into the sleek black car and eat the embarrassment or try to help with your bags.

“Go ahead and take a seat, Miss Y/N.” He says sternly, and you nod with a tight lipped expression. Already making friends in Tokyo, your brother would be so proud.

You sigh and shove yourself in the back, annoyed at yourself for being so nervous in the first place. Sure it was a foreign country, new people that only had a brief idea of who you are and what you can do, and the seemingly daunting task of learning aside Satoru Gojo. But you are a powerhouse. No amount of pressure can break a diamond. You can handle whatever Satoru Gojo and any other students of Jujutsu Tech have to throw at you.

You repeat this mantra to yourself as the car winds down a curved path, no doubt taking you to the secluded castle-like building of Tokyo’s sorcery school. You can see the outlines of three figures waiting on an open field. It almost reminds you of the football field back home, though it’s not as long and most definitely not used for football in its spare time. The driver stops before the field, looking at you through the rearview mirror.

“Go ahead. The teacher will guide you from here.”

“Kudasai, my bags?” You ask, sliding out of the backseat. The driver only waves you off and keeps driving. There was a tall man with sunglasses, the man you assumed would be the sensei of your squad. There were two other boys with him, both tall but opposite in hair color. One had the most striking white color and the other had long dark locks. You peered in at them through the slats of the fence, unsure how to make your grand entrance. You had planned to make yourself a spectacle, impossible to ignore as you burst on the scene.

“Ah! She’s here already! Come, come Miss L/N!” The teacher calls out as you approach, though the other two surely detected the magnitude of your cursed energy. The dark haired one seemed…surprised. The white haired one peered over dark circular lenses at you, expressionless.

You step into the gate with a smile. From what you could tell, they were both pretty attractive. Maybe you could have a little fun while in Tokyo. “You must be Yaga-sensei?”

He chuckles and nods. He waves you closer, brightly smiling as you stand just a few feet away from the group. The black haired man exchanges a look with the white haired counterpart, though now that you’re closer you can decidedly say they’re good looking. The dark-haired man’s hair was long, but he had angled layers that framed his sharp features. His eyes were kind though, and his lips curled into an inviting smile.

“This is Suguru Geto!” The teacher says, holding the boy by both shoulders. If possible, his warm face shifts into an even brighter smile. “Be nice to her, she’s from America! Tennessee!” The man chuckles as he pronounces the silly name.

“It’s nice to meet you, L/N-chan!” He beams, extending his hand for you. You smile easily, your features soft and seductive. You’re easily the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, though he knows Shoko would be devastated to hear it. You take his hand in both of yours, leaning forward a little to give him an adorable nose-crinkled smile.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Geto-senpai.” You hum, which flusters the boy a little. He averts his gaze from your shyly, clearly taken aback a bit by your forwardness. He shakes his head quickly.

“Oh–no, we’re the same age so you can call us san!” He chuckled, releasing your grip. The pink on his cheeks is still evident, but your eyes had already shifted to the boy staring intensely at you. He had the most peculiar eyes that you had ever seen before. They were bluer than the sky, glowing with an ethereal brightness. It’s captivating, the way he analyzes you without any trace of his findings on his face. Yaga-sensei moves to his shoulders. He’s a couple inches taller than the first boy, but not as broad. He’s much lankier, but you can tell by his cursed energy that he is insanely powerful. It all makes sense. You realize who this is as your new teacher says it.

“This is Satoru Gojo!” He says, and you see the hint of nervousness creep up onto his face. He clears his throat before announcing his next bit. “Satoru! You will train with her, she is on your power level!”

This makes the boy show his first emotion of the day, genuine joy. He laughs, a hearty, full- bodied chuckle. His head is tossed back, shoulders jumping, his hand over his heart enjoying the hilarity. Suguru looks at you apologetically, but you smirk, and hold your hand up as if to say, “I got this, buddy.”

This was the outcome you had figured most likely in your head. You’re extremely prideful and some would even say intolerably full of yourself based on your upbringing as a highly valuable military style weapon. After reading up on the Gojo clan and the powers their little Prince inherited, you figured he would be just as bad, if not ten times worse. Yaga seemed terribly embarrassed, but you gave him another award-winning grin.

“It’s nice to meet you, Satoru-san.” You grin, folding your arms over your chest as you weigh your options. You couldn’t tell if he knew of your eyes, or if his infinity was currently active. You extend your hand, hopefully answering one or both of those questions. His face was playful, those sparkling eyes, flickering from your hand and back to your face. He seemed amused if nothing else now, his rejection of your hand only answering the question about your eyes and his infinity. “Oh, don’t insult me. I know you can read my technique anyway, but I could always show you much more effectively.”

At this, Satoru’s grin spread. You seemed to understand his special eyes, and he wondered what else you knew. Your cursed energy was weird. It seemed like it was vibrating, and it didn’t course through your entire body. He thought that odd, but he knew he could figure that out with a brief spar. In his mind, he was also unbeatable. He stepped forward a bit.

“You’re on, Miss Americana.” He chuckled, thinking himself at the advantage since he can see how your cursed technique works.

Suguru stepped forward a bit nervously. “Now, Satoru, that’s rude, she just got here–”

“I’m okay Geto-san.” You hum brightly. “I think I can impress, if nothing else.” You say, tying your hair up out of your way and subtly activating your cursed technique. You don’t take your eyes of Satoru, knowing he noticed your activation.

“What’s your technique, anyway?!” Suguru asked, slightly panicked at the impression Gojo would leave on you on your first day here.

You arch your brow at your opponent. “Do you wanna tell him, or can I?”

Satoru is officially intrigued by you. You’re unafraid, he enjoys that, even if some poor American bastards lied and said you were as strong as he is. “The floor is yours.”

You hum, a sly grin on your lips. “‘Preciate it. You see, Geto-san, I have cursed threads, kinda like puppet master jutsu from Naruto.” You giggle, letting the invisible strings wiggle out toward your opponent. You knew Satoru wouldn’t allow them to meet his skin, so you hum some more. “I can control the speed, the number of them that appear. Ideally, I’d wrap these around your limbs. They’re sharp, so they cut as you wiggle against them, and it gives me some manipulation of your limbs. Of course, Gojo-san’s Infinity technique won’t allow that.”

Suguru seems intrigued. “That sounds powerful!” He says, eyeballing his friend's reaction to you understanding his technique as well.

Satoru is of course overjoyed by your knowledge. “Seems like someone did their research! Where were you from again? Hollywood? Brooklyn? Dallas! Yeah that’s the one.”

“No it’s not.” You chuckle, a little thrown by his derailing. “I’m from Tennessee–”

“Dallas it is. Listen Dallas-chan, I see you know your enemy. If that’s true, why’d you even step up to embarrass yourself?”

You roll your eyes at his nickname, deciding to fight that battle later. “Because I’m gambling.” You smirk, knowing this caught him off guard. He was striking to look at, really, and if he wasn’t such a dickhead you thought you may let him off the hook just for being pretty. You sigh, ready to show all your cards now anyway.

Satoru raises a brow now, curious to what you could mean. He knew about your second form activation as well, a much scarier and painful version of your cursed threads, if that’s what you intended to show. You wink at Suguru, blinking slowly. When your eyes open again, they glow with a purple flame-like visual enhancement instead of your normal color. The boys look at each other in surprise. Satoru knew there was something off about the energy at the top of your head, but he didn’t surmise another ocular power. Soon, he feels his infinity melt away, your threads speedily wrapping around his arms and legs.

He even chuckles when you thrust him to his knees, much to Suguru’s shock. “What did you do to him??” He asks, puzzled beyond belief, he knew your eyes must be behind it, but he didn’t understand how.

“She repressed my technique with those eyes of hers. It’s cute, but now that I know about it, you’ll never win again.” He sighs, unbothered by your show of power. Though part of him chills, knowing your second form was so painful and crippling that your domain had to be the cruelest one he’d seen. Another part of him is highly interested in this. He hasn’t seen anyone come close to your strength, the amount of cursed energy you had did rival his own, though it was clear your techniques consumed more of it. Your attitude interested him even more, unwavering against him. You would be fun to play with. “Good job, Dallas-chan.” He teases.

You roll your eyes and release your technique, setting him free. His cursed energy was odd. It seemed to flicker like a fire and call out to you, despite being repressed by your power earlier. “It’s Y/N. Nashville is nowhere near Dallas.”

He shrugs. “I dunno, I think Dallas suits you better than Nashville though. Your real name sucks.” He grins when he says it, but Suguru covers his face with his hands. He was going to be cleaning up Satoru’s mess forever. He almost comes up with something to say, but you remain undeterred by the boy’s relentlessness.

“Whatever you say, Gojo-san. I think I’ll show myself around your training facilities now. I’ll only answer to Y/N.”

You wave to your new teacher, who sat and observed your confrontation with his most troublesome student. He decided then that you would be the best thing or the worst thing to happen to Satoru, and he had desperate hopes for the former. Then you wave off to Suguru, turning to walk past Gojo on the narrow track. He stepped in your way as if to shoulder check you, but instead of you stumbling back and him giggling at you, both of you looked at each other in shock.

The place where your bodies touched sparked, and you didn’t know what to make of it. You eye his cursed energy, and the flames pull towards you again, like a magnetic field. Satoru is just as concerned, realizing that your energy’s hum was getting heavier and heavier, like a metal detector discovering gold. There was an unfamiliar connection formed, but neither of you knew what to think about it. You tear your eyes away, heart thundering in your ears. Your body had grown warm, like his energy was an actual fire that your energy accepted as a source of its own. He hums, tucking this in his mind to explore later. That is until you start walking away from him and he feels like he’s left naked in the snow. His body goes cold, and his feet scream at him to follow you, as if it’s the only way he can get warm again. The sparks start to intensify as he grows closer to you. He stops himself from following any further, growing confused as his body slowly becomes cold again as you disappear from view.

What the hell was that? He felt drawn in and he didn’t like it at all, it must be some innate technique of yours. Whatever it is, he has to figure out how to shake it off of him.

For the rest of the night, all you can think about is each other. You lay in your new room, staring up at the blank ceiling, wondering what could have caused your energies to have a physical reaction to each other. You knew you were both incredibly strong, maybe it was due to that. Perhaps you two were too strong to interact! Yeah, that makes sense. But you were sent here, deliberately partnered with him. How could you complete your missions if you avoid him all the time? You wouldn’t be able to, and then you wouldn’t be able to go home. So whatever happened out there tonight, you had to put it behind you and focus on the missions to come. Even if he was remarkably handsome and stupidly cunning, what did that have to do with you? His ego is a huge turn off anyway. He couldn’t handle you and you couldn’t handle him. That’s why your energies sparked. You’re sure of it. You would prove yourself to him time and time again. And you had to start with training practices tomorrow morning.

Satoru mirrors your position in his own bed. He figures this must be your doing, maybe there was more to you that his Six Eyes couldn’t register, just like your ocular abilities. Although, the image of your smirking face and the unabashed way you flirted with Geto came to mind. Maybe he was interested in your power, maybe he was just interested in you. Either way, it was incredibly frustrating. All he can focus on is the way his shoulder burned from connecting with yours, and the intensity of your eyes locked on his. This isn’t like him. He’s met a plethora of gorgeous women, and sure your foreign American charm must play into it, but geez, he felt pathetic. You seemed so sure of yourself and your energy made it clear how strong you really were. He hated having you on the brain. He would see you again for training, and there he could put an end to his stupid wonderings by smacking you down for good. He’ll expose your power for the cheap ploy it is and send you back to America with your attitude adjusted. Then he won’t have to deal with your strange effect on him or your annoying ego. And he’ll start with practice in the morning.

tags: @aepinkoutsold @purpleguk @ddora-kken @naorizenin @makiville @getosbigballsack

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satosugu x reader #jjk #jjk gojo #gojo series

404 notes · View notes

thorougly-melted-brains · 1 year

Text

Childhood friends AU, but like, Narnia.

Simon liked to hide under his bed. Or- that’s what his dad taunted him about. He thought of it more as making his own room.

He had one, technically, but it was empty and dull, hardly seemed his at all. He’d seen kids rooms on TV, and they’re always colorful, warm.

So he carved out a smaller one for himself under his bed. There isn’t anything under it besides a few dust bunnies, and he cleaned those with a damp cloth. He put a few blankets underneath, a pillow, and his favorite books. It was calming there, in his new "room".

He tried his best not to fall asleep there, though, because he’s already a bit taller than his classmates for 8 years old, and he doesn’t want to hit his head when he wakes up. But accidents happen, as much as he wished they wouldn’t, and he fell asleep.

When he woke up with a jolt, he hit his head like he thought he would. He groaned quietly and then froze, because his bed above him was moving. He crawled over to squeeze out from underneath it, but before he can put more than his hand out, a set of eyes appeared. He shrunk back, startled. Because those weren’t his dads cold eyes or his brother's defiant ones or his moms tired ones.

They were gray, for a start, and even more, so they were full of life. From the small but he could see they belonged to a boy about his age, brown haired, who seemed to hanging off the side of his bed.

“Are you the monster under my bed?” The boy asked.

Simon was too startled to say much, just sat there under the bed.

“What’re you doing in my room?” He asked again.

“What’re you doing in my bed?” Simon managed.

“It’s not your bed, it’s mine.” He said, like it wasn’t impossible. “I’m John, by the way. My friends call me Johnny.”

“Simon.” He offered back. The bed moved more above him, like the other boy was sitting up.

“Do you wanna sit up here?”

Simon didn’t answer, only shimmed out from under the bed and sat down next to him, pulling his knees to his chest.

There was more moonlight in the room than he'd seen during his brief glance. It was clear to see it was indeed not his bed or his room. This room was one of a happy child. There were toys and drawings and posters, thing brought in by John assumably.

But there were also things that clearly showed attentive, adult help. The ceiling, too far up for a child to reach, was covered in stars that glowed softly. There was wallpaper, modern wall paper on the walls that’s someone must bed put up. It was homey, in a way Simon's room wasn’t.

“Why were you under my bed?” John asked him, still staring at him. Simon wasn’t sure he liked it, his parents never looked at him much, it made his skin feel raw.

“I was under my bed, the last I checked.”

“Why were you under your bed? That’s weird.” Simon felt a twinge of embarrassment at that.

“I was reading.” He said, somewhat defensively.

“Okay, why did you wake up here?”

“Dunno.”

“Well, I think that part's wicked cool, it’s like Narnia.”

“What’s that?”

“Narnia? It’s a book- well, the book's not called Narnia, the place is. Here, I’ll show you.”

John hopped off the bed as he said it, scrambling quietly but still loud enough to make Simon wince.

“Be quiet.” He hissed, and John looked back at him confusedly.

“Why? If my parents wake up, all they’ll find is us reading.” His head tilted, confused.

“But they’ll find me, won’t you get in trouble?” Simon couldn’t figure out what he didn’t understand.

“Maybe, but I’ll just tell them what happened, and it’ll be okay.”

“But you’ll be in trouble, I don’t want to get you hurt.”

“Hurt? Why would I be hurt- my parents would just ground me. And you’re here anyway, so that wouldn’t do much.”

Simon was confused now, John just hopped back on to the bed and flipped through a not inconsiderable thick book.

“Here.” He said, and pointed to the title.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Simon said nothing for a long time, just read. Soap interrupted occasionally with commentary, and Simon found it less annoying than he might’ve if it was someone else. Eventually, Simon's eyes started to droop, and John started to yawn every few paragraphs.

“Should you go home?” John asked him. Simon curled in on himself a bit tighter.

“I don’t how.”

John sidled closer to him, bumping his shoulder a bit. It was odd, Tommy used to do the same thing when they were younger. It was meant to be comforting, Simon couldn’t tell if it was.

“Well, look at the story. You came here under my bed, maybe you could go back the same way.”

“But I was asleep, I don’t know how I got here.” Simon said miserably.

“Have you gotten here anytime you were awake?” He asked. Simon shook his head.

“Maybe that’s the secret, you have to be asleep to travel.”

“I don’t know if I can fall asleep, under your bed's much less cozy than under mine.”

“I can put my blanket under there, and some pillows.” John insisted.

“I don’t want to take your pillows.” Simon said tiredly.

“Then I can sleep under there too.” Simon blinked owlishly at him? “Why?”

“Because that’s where my blanket is. And besides, people sleep better around other people.” John said the last bit like he was parroting an adult.

“Why would you do that for a stranger?”

“You’re not a stranger, you’re the monster under my bed.” John grinned. Simon didn’t know what to say to that, so he just got up off the bed.

John grabbed his pillows and his blanket. Simon squeezed under the bed before him, so John wouldn’t be trapped. The other boy crawled in after him, pushed a pillowed to Simon's side and pulled the blanket in over both of them.

“Good night Simon.”

“Good night John.” “My friends call me Johnny.”

“Am I your friend?” “Of course, we’re having a sleep-over.”

Simon didn’t remember falling asleep, and when he woke up, he was under his own bed. He almost thought it was a dream for a few moments. Then he looked over to where Johnny had been sleeping, and he noticed a book.

The Chronicles of Narnia.

He didn’t remember Johnny bringing it under the bed with him, but it had been very dark. He didn’t smile, but he opened the first page and began reading.

#narnia!au #writing #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #cod mw2

27 notes · View notes

softsky-daily · 9 months

Text

12/22/2023

I didn't go outside today so here's my best attempt at trying to get a sky picture from out my window.

Positive thing: My friends and I made a lot of progress on Japan plans.

We pretty much have the places that we want to go to figured out, so all that's left is for me to organize them into our day-by-day. It's definitely going to be interesting seeing how Japan is in winter since I've only ever been there during summer months.

I also ended up gushing about 逃げ恥 after we were done and one of my friends said she was actually a huge fan of dramas and offered me a bunch more recommendations since I liked that one so much. Despite knowing her for years I somehow had never known she liked dramas - but I guess that's just a consequence of both of us being so busy we hardly saw each other doing hobby stuff. It was always just school. Honestly the more I think about how much people in general work and toil and don't rest, the more I can feel myself becoming the Joker about it.

But anyway, I'm excited for the Japan trip. I don't know if it's just because I'm on break from classes right now and I'm still burnt out, but I really feel like I'm on some other path different from my other classmates. I do like counseling, but I don't know how I want to use it. I like a bunch of other things too that I wish fit neatly together into a career that would actually let me have money to live, but it's not so simple as that.

Just one step at a time I guess. I'll keep on studying Japanese so I can take the N2 next year and hopefully start on my MEXT application too, and I'll keep up with my classes like always. I've been thinking about blogs too, like how people have blogs as like, an actual job. I don't really know how that works but I don't know what I'd write about that'd be interesting enough for people to read while also staying honest with my thoughts. I've blogged about my travels before which I really enjoy, but I'm not traveling all the time, and I don't live the kind of exciting life where there's something big to talk about every day. Also WordPress sucks so bad so even if I did pursue blogging in a fancier format I'd have to move all my old ones to some other new site somehow. And pay money for it probably.

Oh well. Maybe I'll look into it and see what's viable. I already blog every day anyway so it might be worth putting out there at some point.

#thoughtposting

2 notes · View notes

vacantgodling · 2 years

Text

not done with this chapter yet but i’m gonna post what i have anyway 🤪

wip: darren & co (it’ll get a better name eventually but like it’s never had a real working title pff)

character(s): darren de leon (mc/pov character—1st person) and his “adoptive”/it’s complicated sister olichudar “olice” prajapti-ellis

picking up his younger sister from school shouldn’t have led to opening this particular can of family-oriented worms, but it’d be foolish to say that can of worms wasn’t always open and festering.

warnings: none :)

The cold was easy to feel through the threads of my loose, definitely not built for winter jacket, yet the last remnants of the dwindling warmth of autumn was a dream I desperately wanted to hold onto. At least, for a little while longer. Novembers in the city were hell; the icy chill of the wind billowing through the narrow channel of alleyways, spurred on by the brusque pace of every living thing that dared to thrive in its cold, steel maze made everything feel colder than it was. I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck, tapping my foot against the pavement as I waited outside of the gate of my old high school. This far removed from when I went there, it hardly loomed over me as much as I used to think it did. Maybe I’d gotten taller.

I wasn’t left waiting for long though. Even from out here I could hear the final bell of the day chime louder than Big Ben and I saw the shake of the ground vibrate the frozen shimmers of ice nestled on the dark ground, the students stampeding towards their freedom. Reckless abandon looked good on the youth. I stood to the side of the cast iron gates, letting the whirl of buzzing students fly past me to their various destinations. Part time jobs, friend’s houses, movie theaters… Wherever their excitable little feet would take them. I envied their energy.

“I wish you’d be as excited to leave as the rest of your classmates.” I greeted when Olice stepped into my space. Her wild, mint green hair was tucked under a stretched thin purple beanie and she raised an eyebrow at me. “I never rush for anything.” Her voice was muffled by the scarf wrapped tight around her lower face and neck. “I know.” I whined. “Trust me, I know. But I’ve been waiting out here for hours and I’m freezing my dick off. You got everything?”

“Yes, dad.”

“Gross.” I laughed. Waving for her to follow, we started back down the sidewalk. While other students would be heading out to socialize, Olice and I would be heading home, back to warmth, and solitude, and take out, and Dave. Dave wasn’t home yet, but he left money for Chinese food on the kitchen counter sometime before he left and after I dragged my ass out of bed this morning. The dollars and cents jingled in my jeans pocket as Olice and I came around the backside of the school, where my car was parked. Not new, not old, just blue and icy from the cold. Thankfully, the seats were still pretty warm. Olice and I tucked ourselves into the vehicle and after a little kick, we were on our way.

“Dare?” I acknowledged Olice with a hum, keeping my eyes glued to the road. “Is mom home?” I sucked my teeth. That told Olice all she needed to know, but I corroborated anyway; “Veronica’s been in the sunroom all damn day. Jawing her ass off to god knows who.” I rolled my eyes just thinking about it; how the only time she acknowledged me today was to wave her arm out of the room and demand I bring her the espresso I knew she liked from that coffee shop near the school. I text Olice I’d come get her and that’s why I was waiting for her today anyway. But, if I left the coffee in the car long enough for it to get cold well… That was her problem.

Olice only nodded, then looked back down at her phone. She was typing at the speed of light; probably in one of her forums or Twitter rants that I didn’t know anything about. After a minute, she said, “She’s been asking more about Dave marrying her lately.”

“Really?” I flicked my blinker, changing lanes. My brows furrowed though. “Why.”

“Well.” Olice shrugged, still not looking up. “They’ve been together since I was 9. We’re… pretty much a family, the four of us.”

“You, me, and Dave maybe.” I scoffed. We were nearing the tunnel now, and I could already see the traffic congestion. “You care if I smoke?” I glanced at her, and she finally met my eyes. I couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I’ll let you take a hit, you know I don’t care.”

“Sweet.” She looked back at her phone. I reached into the cup holder to grab my half gone blunt and stuck it between my teeth. “Pass me my lighter? ‘S probably under your seat.” Olice leaned down, and as my car rolled to an easy stop behind one in a sea of yellow taxi cabs that littered the road ahead of me, I rolled down the window. Enough to lean my elbow out. I couldn’t tell if today was another general traffic jam, or if there was some kind of accident or demonstration going on up ahead. The two of us may as well get comfortable.

I thanked Olice when she handed me my lighter, nearly out of fluid—I should get another one soon—and sparked up, blowing a haze of smoke up towards the skyscrapers above us like a kiss. I passed it to Olice and she too took a hit. I could see when it truly hit her; like it always did, weed melted the rigidity out of her shoulders and she leaned her seat back until it was a near bed.

“Anyway though,” I continued. “I don’t know why the hell she thinks Dave would want to marry her. I mean, just because they haven’t broken up yet doesn’t mean what she thinks it means.”

“I guess. There’s no reason it shouldn’t though. Has he talked to you about it?”

“Negative. You know Dave hates talking about this stuff.” With me. I didn’t say. Olice twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers and stared up at the ceiling of my little hatchback. “I know he only keeps mom around because of me.”

“Can’t blame him.” I gave into temptation and reached over to ruffle Olice’s hair. She gave me a tiny smile. “That’s the only reason I can stand that she’s around.”

“Mm. Yeah. But, it’s more than just that isn’t it. Why he hasn’t married her yet.” We inched forward. At this rate we’d probably be home by dinner. It was only 2.

“You reckon?” I glanced at her. “What’s your bet?” She didn’t answer me, just hummed again, then went back to her phone like she didn’t bring it up in the first place. She either didn’t know or she didn’t want to talk about it, though, I had a feeling where she was going with this train of thought. I debated on whether or not I should take the bait but, after another ten minutes in solid silence with solid traffic, I caved.

“I know he still loves my mom.” I finally sighed. I stole the blunt from Olice to take another drag. “He just… Doesn’t talk about it.” To anyone really; not to his friends, not to Olice, not to Veronica—no definitely not, that’d be a shit show—but, not even to me. His own son. The most I knew of my mother was sequestered to fleeting memories of my elementary school years, when I realized I was the only kid in my class who didn’t have a ‘mommy’ around. I remembered coming home and demanding answers to a myriad of questions: What did she look like? Oh champ, she looks just like you! Same beauty mark and everything. Or, what kind of person she was? She was… fierce. Like a lion! Worst of all, where is she? And that question never got an answer. Sometimes part of me wondered if my mom was dead but… Every year Dave and I went to visit his grandmother’s grave, so I’d expect the same treatment for my mom. Did she just leave? Was she in jail? Did she hate me? If she was alive, why couldn’t I see her? It was something that, over time I came to accept.

It’s not that I needed a mother anyway. Things were great with just Dave and I and they always would be. But I hated how he looked so… distant, if you looked hard enough. Past his determination and terrible puns, there was always something about him that seemed off like there was some puzzle in his mind that he kept trying to work out, but he was always a few pieces short from the completed picture. Maybe he was asking himself those same questions, I’d never know.

#s: darren and co #ren writing #i’m just proud of the growth of my boy leave me Alone

20 notes · View notes

affcgato-archived · 2 years

Text

Warren. ( @immortalmuses, moved because of beta )

Layla’s enthusiasm is unexpected, but it warms some unnamed emotion in Warren’s chest -- something he hesitates to examine too closely. The pyrokinetic has been so intent on ignoring how he actually missed hanging out with Layla (who knew fake dating would turn into fond memories?), he hadn’t really thought about whether she missed spending time with him in return. He’d just assumed she hadn’t because... well.

Meeting her eyes now, Warren wonders if he shouldn’t reassess a few things he assumed he knew about Layla Williams. Maybe that unnamed emotion in his chest could do with some examination after all.

“... yeah... I guess I can see that, with the animals..” Peace replies, his head tilting to one side in thought even as he unconsciously holds the door open for Layla. Together, they step out of the school’s primary hallway and skirt past the main office, escaping with the dwindling afterschool crowd onto the campus lawn. Squinting into the afternoon sun, Warren shrugs out of his leather jacket and stuffs it into his backpack. He’s got a shift tonight at the Paper Lantern, but the pyrokinetic figures he can take the late bus and just skip going home. It’s not like anyone’s there right now, anyway.

“So. What time did you want to meet?” Warren asks, ducking under the shade of a tree and slouching back against its trunk. In the distance, he’s peripherally aware of a group of classmates watching he and Layla together. Typical. “... I’ve got my dad’s old Triumph cruiser, but Mom’s not keen on me driving it into the city.” Which means the pyrokinetic will likely take the city bus and hope none of the routes are running late.

Peace shrugs, finding himself unbothered by the hassle of public transit when the pay off is hanging out with Layla, free from Sky High’s scrutiny. He smirks, “-- Just don’t make me get up at the butt-crack of dawn on a Saturday, huh Hippie?”

she's really glad he's not immediately shooting all of this down, even if she's trying REALLY HARD not to read too deeply into it. he had been her homecoming date, too, & that... she really should have just stayed with him instead of buying in a middle school crush that really hadn't gone anywhere worth thinking about. nope. she's still not going to think too deeply about it. that's introspection for later when she's made some lemon tea & has the chance to hide away in her shower instead of the school grounds.

the rest of the crowd is heading out already, but she's content not to take the first bus. there's three trips down from the school, & her mom won't be home until late so there's hardly any rush. she'd just be heading home to work on homework anyway, & that's hardly exciting. if she's lucky, she won't even have to work too hard at putting together dinner so she can spend the rest of the afternoon charting the growth in her garden for the project she's working on, & finally figuring out how to actually make lemons. it's been BOTHERING her.

it's admittedly not the most exciting way to spend an afternoon, but she'll take it. it's better than the excitement of the last few weeks of school.

' the market goes until 2. I usually go early so I can get coffee, but I'm flexible. ' Will had never like mornings - it reminded him too much of school, was one excuse he'd given her for blowing her off two weekends in a row so she wasn't going to push her luck this time with someone else who might be even less keen on it. ' the bus is fine, it's not too long a walk. ten, maybe? would give you time to sleep in, ' the redhead teases. ' and I can keep myself entertained until then. '

#immortalmuses #→ layla williams // threads #→ interactions #→ layla williams // nature will improvise (v.)#more backlog LOL #finally getting to these #I missed these two a lot #q.

2 notes · View notes

simp-thingz · 2 years

Text

“Hurry up guys Kirishima just said they were on their way back” you panicked as everybody worked to set out food and such on a table.

Kirishima had dragged Bakugou out a little over four and a half hours ago and though you missed him you weren’t exactly ready for him to return yet, your nerves where all over the place as your classmates helped to hang decorations as you laid out the gifts Mitsuki had helped you and his friends to purchase by going through her sons room and finding out what he could possibly enjoy

“Relax y/n, I’m sure he’ll like everything, mainly because you planned it, but we don’t talk about that part” Midoriya patted you on the back before continuing to direct people and help out where needed.

You had to stand there for a moment, slightly overwhelmed by everything that was happening around you, you were excited yes but your senses were still struggling to handle everything as fast as you needed it to.

“I’m gonna go up to my room for a second!” you called out to the green haired boy as he attempted to assist Iida in hanging a banner “Okay We’ve got everything handled here!” he responded not looking at you as you sped walked up to your room to try and settle yourself.

You got there much quicker than you yourself had expected and laid on your bed, before reaching over and putting on the headphones that Katsuki had bought you knowing how overstimulating things could get around school.

‘I'll just lay in here for a minute’ you thought to yourself but the comfort of your bed, and the way they seemed to envelope you in the familiar scent of your boyfriends body wash as he had stayed the night with you many times before the sheets seeming to cling desperately to the smell as it combined with the comfort of your bed to lull you to sleep.

The bed dipped as gentle hands removed your headphones effectively waking you up from an accidental nap, though sleep lingered in your body as you realized how long you’ve been asleep, the moonlight fully replacing the sunshine that was present when you first laid down.

“Go back to sleep dumbass” The voice of your boyfriend whispered from behind you as he pulled you into him, “but what about the par-” you began to ask sitting up as he pulled you back down “it’s already over dummy” his gruff voice laughed

“Really? I slept through it?!” you panicked as he laughed even more “yep, stupid Deku told me about your sneaky ass party planning but non of them had seen you” he explained

“They should’ve woken me up” you huffed getting comfortable in your bed once more feeling guilty that you had slept through an event you had planned in the first place.

“I woulda killed them if they did that” he responded in his usual tsundere ton “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the lack of sleep you’ve been getting, staying up reading that weird ass smut all night” he held you tighter a you sighed your face burning slightly at the revelation

“We don’t talk about that kat” you hushed him playfully “Did you at least enjoy yourself while I was sleeping?” you asked knowing Kirishima would have held him hostage at the party, especially after all the time went into it.

“It was alright, woulda been better without those dumbasses trying to keep me downstairs instead letting me come up here sooner” he also huffed “how’d ya know it was my birthday anyway?” he asked curious as he hardly remembered his own birthday

“Mitsuki called” you smiled cheekily as he chuckled “of course the old hag did”

“I should at least go help with cleaning up though” you figured as you made another effort to get out of bed, the air cold compared to the warmth of your bed especially now that there was one other person in it.

“Nope” and again, you were gently dragged back down, calloused and rough hands caging you “It’s already done stupid, let’s just go to sleep” he insisted burying himself into your neck as you gave up trying to move “yeah that sounds nice” you sighed relaxing fully back into his body.

“Happy birthday Kat” you whispered as he kissed the nape of your neck softly

“Love you dumbass” and with that you both retired into a soft realm of slumber where not rain or snow could take away the tranquility of this moment.

-From outside the room-

“Denki I don’t think you should be filming them-” Kirishima tried to stop his friend who had filmed your entire interaction

“But it makes good blackmail” he whined as Sero snatched the camera from him “as much as I agree with you there, Kirishima’s right, we should just leave them alone”

“Alrighttt”

-End-

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x y/n #bakugoubirthday #mha #mha oneshot #gn reader #bakugou fluff

117 notes · View notes

late-night-secrets · 2 years

Text

You had not expected to meet Bakugo in a bouldering hall while hanging out and doing some sports with your friends.

Currently sitting on the mat and taking a short break, you watched your friends climbing on the wall. Your gaze wandered around the hall when you saw the buff blonde near one of your friends, doing one of the most difficult routes. Wearing only a tank top and short sweats, his well-defined muscles were clearly on display, flexing and relaxing as he went on. He panted heavily as sweat dripped down his forehead but he seemed determined. Occassionally he took a short break to rest his tiring fingers, just to continue. The crimson-red eyes looking at the path in front of him. Upwards, always upwards.

You watched him for a while, mesmerized by the slow yet controlled movements of his, despite the high difficiultiy of the route. The holds were so narrow, you wondered how one could even use it. Yet, he clearly seemed to know what he was doing.

It took you some time to recognize him. No surprise, it had been many years already. You used to be neighbors and classmates in elementary school until you had moved away with your parents. Since then, over ten years had past. No wonder it hadn't clicked to you before that you knew this skilled man.

"Good one!" you applauded him after he had finished and landed not to far away from you.

"Thanks," he mumbled and turned to you in mild surprise that someone was observing him. For a second, you thought he would just turn back and continue but then he halted, his eyes widening slightly. "Oh, hey." He wasn't smiling, but he also didn't appear irritated. You remembered that Bakugo never had been the best in exchanging small formalities. "Haven't seen you in ages." His voice had gotten deep, husky. The last time you heard him talk he was still a boy who hadn't hit puberty yet.

"Yeah," you laughed. "We moved quite far away. We hardly came by to pay a visit." And back then, Bakugo has definitely not been part of your closer friend group meaning that the last time you two actually saw each other had been the last day at your old elementary school.

"I remember." He scowled as a memory crossed his mind. "The people moving in after you were always complaining about my drums. Had a small child and all that shit."

"Oh, yeah, I remember. You and your drums." Every afternoon at around 5 p.m. he would have started practicing. "Are you still playing?"

"Hardly." His answers were short. Just as they used to be. You weren't mad, it was more like a small wave of nostalgia filling your heart. "What are you doing here anyways?"

"Showing my friends the place where I came from." With a lazy gesture you waved to your friends who were either bouldering, watching them doing so or paying curious glances to the two of you. "And you? Are you alone here?"

He nodded. "It's... I like it more like this."

Yes, just as he used to. Of course, he always would have his little group of fans around him, but eventually Bakugo had always done everything on his own. Apparently, that hadn't changed.

"How are you doing?" you asked him, half out of convention, half out of curiosity.

Bakugo told you a little about his life, shallowly. He still pursued the dreams he had a child, slower than he wished, but steady; always going foward. He managed.

He asked you back, and you weren't sure whether he really wanted to know or whether he was just polite. You tried to keep your answer short, yet you couldn't help but tell him how you felt... exhausted. That work and deadlines were all too much, that there was too little time, that you felt guilty having fun with your friends right now instead of being productive. You went on without thinking about it, "I don't know... It feels like everyone else manages somehow, better, faster, while I'm... stuck. I know it's bullshit but still..." Your words trailed silence between the two of you.

A moment later, your realized you were whining about stupid trivialities to your former neighbor you hadn't seen in over a decade. Since then so much had happened. He was basically a stranger, and you were sharing quite personal concerns with him. "Oh shit, I'm sorry," you quickly apoligized in embarrassement. "You don't wanna hear about that. Over all, I'm doing fine, really. Don't have anything to truly complain about."

You felt awkward, wished you hadn't ranted. It got even worse when Bakugo remained strangely passive. "No, it's okay," he simply said. "Well, enjoy the time with your friends." He was about to turn around and leave you behind in bashfulness when he once again stopped and offered without looking at you, "And if you or one of your friends need help with a route, just ask. Although I think you're in good hands." He was motioning to one of my friends who went bouldering on a regular basis, managing the route Bakugo just had done.

"Okay," I replied softly, still feeling the heat in my cheeks. "Thanks."

~~~~~

Your muscles were tired, your arms shaking and you knew you would fail again. You had no idea how many times you had tried this route already, and it was always at the same spot that your body would give up at the simple thought of reaching out to the next hold. One of your friends was watching you, trying to give you tips and shouting words of encouragement.

You wanted to succeed, you really wanted to, but the next hold seemed to be miles away, forcing you to rather jump than reach, and on an overhang at this height... The thought made your hands sweaty, and that was not useful while bouldering at all.

Suddenly, another voice accompanied your friend's, shouting, "Either you finish this one or you leave space for the ones who can actually do it."

That one startled you. With control you jumoed. When you landed, your friend had already turned to the new arriver and gasped an outraged "Excuse me?!"

You were not surprised to find your fromer classmate. His choice of words gave him away rather than his voice. "What?" he said to your friend. "She was blocking the wall for ages."

Your friend wanted to protest on your behalf, but you felt too exhausted and frustrated for a fight, settling with a mere roll of your eyes. "Don't bother." Then, you turned to Bakugo, waved to the wall you had been struggling with and panted, "Go ahead."

He did without another word, of course heading for a more difficult route than the one you had been doing only halfway.

"What an asshole!" your friend huffed and glared at his back.

"Really, don't bother," you assured them, sinking down on the mat to take a rest. "He's always been like this."

"You know him?" Your friend sat down next to you, and the two of you started to absent-mindedly watch him bouldering.

"Yes, back from elementary school," you told them. "He's not good with words. Doesn't really mean what he says. Usually, at least." You heavily sighed in frustration and shifted your gaze to the holds who gave you a hard time. "He's right though. I'm just blocking the route."

Your friend punched you in your shoulder. "Don't say that! Everyone struggles. It looks very good so far, you just have to keep going."

"Well..."

"How did you do?" Another one of your friends came over, the one who was as good as Bakugo. "Did you manage?"

You shook your head. "Nah. Don't think I can do it."

"Oh. But you technique is defenitely good enough."

"Maybe." You shrugged your shoulders. "Don't think I can do it, though. Head keeps getting in my way. And I don't feel like fighting against anxiety. It's fine as it is. I'm done with this route."

Both your friends looked at you with sympathy, telling me you could do it but you didn't have to if you didn't feel good doing it.

Their encouragement was sweet, you still felt like shit.

"I don't think so," Bakugo barged in. You hadn't noticed that he was down on the mat again. He had to have overheard your conversation and now looked directly at you. "I don't think that you can do it. Your skill's not good enough." His face was plain, making his words harsh with brutal honesty. "You won't manage."

You knew what you had told your friend earlier about the man not being good with words, but your frustration got the best of you. "What?" you mumbled in disbelief.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You can't do it. Go find an easier route and stick to that."

You needed a moment to process his words. "Fucking asshole," you exhaled eventually, exhaustion making you forget your manners, and rose up. Without clearly realizing it, you put chalk on your sweaty hands as you kept mumbling, "Don't you fucking dare to assume to know what I can do and what I don't." Anxiety replaced by provoked anger, you stepped at the wall. "I'll fucking show you, Katsuki." You didn't even realize that you used his first name, returning to old habits from childhood as your mind focused on the route.

Therefore, you also missed the smirk it caused on Bakugo's face.

The start was easy, you had done it several times today. You grip was purposeful and practiced. It felt good..

Then, the crucial part came; a high hold past the edge of the overhang. You would have to leap, probably making one or even both of your feet losing their hold. The image made your movements stutter.

The hesitation had to be visible because your friends immediately started shouting, "Yes, go on! You can do it!"

You weren't convinced. But Bakugo's words rang in your ears and fueled you on. With shaking arms you tried to pull yourself upwards, closer to the tilted wall in hopes of bringing the next hold in your reach.

"You don't have enough strength," you suddenly heard Bakugo claim. Giving his voice, he had to stand closer than your friends. "Don't use it if you don't have it."

You groaned in annoyance and gave up the flexion of your arms, leaving them fully outstretched so you would dangle and relax a little. "And what am I supposed to do then, smartass?" Somehow, Bakugo elicited all kind of bad language from your tongue.

"Use your balance. Shift your weight to get you up."

"Shift my weight where to?"

"Up."

You wanted to groan once more, but you felt your fingers tiring. "I don't understand. And even if I would, I don't think I can do it."

"Of course you can." Bakugo stood really close now, directly below me.

"Get away," I said hastily, "I'm about to fall and before that happens I'd rather decide for myself and jump." Now, even my outstretched arms started to shake.

"You won't fall." Out of the blue, two big, strong hands were placed on my waist, barely gripping. "I've got you."

You nearly let go of the hold by how startled you were.

Softly, he nudged your body upwards, tilting it a little. "Shift your weight like this, gather momentum and reach for the next hold."

With newfound determination and a little heat in your cheeks that probably did not come from physical strain you tried to follow the lead of his hands. Having someone hold you made the thought of leaping out less scary, you realized.

So you did, stretched your arm to full length, grabbing the next hold. Bakugo's hands quickly changed; your waist now being too far up, he settled for the back of your thighs. Right now, you didn't care about the questionable placement of his hands, your mind was drunk on exalation that you manged paired with the still present fear of falling down.

As you had thought, one of your legs lost its hold and swung through the air. Your foot hit something hard, and the next second Bakugo cursed loudly yet still hold you firmly. It had been his head. "Sorry," you shouted without looking down, somewhat scared that it would pull you down.

"Don't worry," he mumbled. "Just keep going. The worst part is done."

And he was right. As you went on, his hands completely vanished since you got too high. You didn't need them anyways, the rest was fairly easy.

You finished, climbed down, and jumped the last few feet, landing savily - and very, very happily - on the mat. With a proud smile you looked at Bakugo. "Thanks for the help. And sorry for your head."

He touched the spot you had to have hit. "Told you not to worry," he mumbled. "And no need to thank me. I hardly did anything, you did that on your own."

"Don't think so. You holding me helped a lot."

"Barely held you though," he softly said. His cheeks suddenly blushed. "Ah, sorry, by the way."

You blinked in confusion. "For what?"

"For touching you without asking before."

You laughed in surprise. You weren't aware that Bakugo had become that kind of considerate. It was cute. "Don't worry about that, Katsuki. I'll let it slide for once, next time though..." You teased and left the playful threat unspoken.

The next moment, you noticed your mistake. "Shit. I'm sorry, Bakugo. Old habits die hard."

The blush on his cheeks got darker as he suddenly avoided your gaze. "I don't mind. Call me whatever you want."

"Oh, whatever I want?" you kept teasing, but then you realized that that kind of equivocation might be far too inappropiate towards someone who you hadn't seen in years. Now, it was the two of you who were blushing awkwardly. "Ah, forget what I said, please," you softly asked in embarrassement.

"Heh," Bakugo snorted with a smirk. "You're still a dumbass, I see."

"Fuck you, Katsuki," you frowned.

His smirk didn't falter. "So, which one do you wanna do next?"

You raised your eyebrows. "Why you asking? You wanna tell me again how I won't be able to manage?"

Now, his lips dropped, looking at you with startlement and a little bit of guilt. "You know I wasn't serious, right?"

"Oh." Gosh, why were you so awkward today? "You weren't?"

"Of course not," he mumbled. "Your friends are right. Your technique is good. No doubt you wouldn't manage."

"Oh," you simply replied.

The silence was heavier than it should be.

"So," Bakugo cleared his throat. "Wanna do more routes together?"

"Sure," you immediately reply asking yourself if the answer had come too fast. "But I guess my friends..." You wanted to gesture to them, yet you had realized they weren't where they had been before you had started climbing. You found them at the snack bar, gazes suddenly snapping to other directions. As if they had observed the two of you the entire time.

"Idiots," you exhaled to yourself, yet you strangely felt a wave of gratitude.

You were in a weird mood today.

Finally, you turned to Bakugo again with a smile. "Yeah, let's climb together."

"Nice," he replied and did something you had barely ever seen him doing; he smiled at you.

**********

masterlist

78 notes · View notes

wallgirl · 2 years

Text

Daughter of the Sea (1/2)

Record of Ragnarok fanfiction

Poseidon x Daughter!OC

Word count: 2,880

Warnings: None

As a naïve ten-year-old deity, there’s a lot young Aethusa doesn’t understand. She doesn’t understand why her father, the mighty Poseidon, never seems to have time for her (or even like her). She doesn’t understand why the innate powers she should have inherited haven’t surfaced yet. She doesn’t understand why her classmate, Eumulus, is such a pain in the ass. And she doesn’t understand why she’s not allowed to spear the palace koi.

But she’s determined to find the answers to at least three of these questions, even if it kills her.

---

Mom always told me that the day I was born, all the blue ocean was sparkling with joyful waves, and that the sea life, from the tiniest plankton to the largest whale, danced in jolly ribbons and schools to celebrate my arrival. They were all happy because my father, the great sea god, was happy. He was so happy that I was born.

I don't see how that could be the case, though, because he doesn't even talk to me.

I try not to think about it too much, because it usually makes me sad, but it's hard not to. Everyone expects me to be like him, and my whole life revolves around the fact that I'm his daughter. But he doesn't even act like he's my dad. Not the kind of dad my friends seem to have, anyway. They live with their dads, spar with their dads, and hug their dads. But me and Mom live on Valhalla, and Father hardly ever visits.

"I don't want to go to school," I complained. Mom was pulling my hair too hard as she struggled to brush the knots out. "I want to practice with my spear alone some more!"

"I told you before that you may do as you wish after your school day is finished." Mom poured a little oil onto my waves to ease the knots out. "Now sit still. The more you pull, the more painful this will be."

"It's painful because you pull too hard!"

"You're supposed to brush your hair every night before bed so it doesn't tangle like this in your sleep. Will you remember to do it now?"

"Yes," I grumbled. I kicked my legs impatiently. "So I can play the rest of the day after my lessons?"

"Yes." Mom began to carefully pull the brush once more. The oil had succeeded in detangling my hair. "But be mindful that your father will be visiting this afternoon."

I stopped kicking my legs. "He will?" Dad only visits once a month. Me and Mom live on a palace on Mount Olympus, one that Dad technically owns, but he spends most of his time on Midgard. Mom says he always has a lot of work to do, repairing the damage humans have done to the oceans.

"Yes. So don't cause too much trouble, all right?" She set down the brush and squished my cheeks affectionately.

I stared hard at my reflection in the mirror as I thought about Father. "Mom, why don't I look like Father?"

"What do you mean?" She laughed as she corked the oil bottle and put it away. "You have his grumpy face when you're mad. And your eyes are ocean-blue, just like his."

"But I have freckles. And my hair isn't golden." I made a grumpy face at the glass, wondering if she was telling the truth. I've never seen him really grumpy, just annoyed. That’s just fine, though, because I've heard my father's anger is terrifying.

"Why do you ask this so suddenly?" Mom put a hand on my shoulder. "You're more like him than you realize, I promise. I'm sorry that my genes edged his out as far as your looks, though. I hope you can forgive me." She nudged me to my feet. "Now go get your scrolls."

If I'm so much like him, then why doesn't he ever pay attention to me? I pouted, but I turned my head before Mom could see. I didn't want her to worry. But before I could leave my bedroom, one of the maids stopped in the doorway. "Pardon me, my lady. Lord Poseidon has arrived earlier than expected."

Father is already here?! I felt myself lighten up, even though I knew he wasn't really here to see me. He usually comes to talk to Mom about boring adult things. If he does talk to me, it’s to ask me about how I was doing with my schooling. But I've been practicing a lot with my spear lately, and I wanted to tell him how much better I'd gotten. "Father's here?!" I grabbed my spear from its rack and bolted out of the room, down the marble halls, towards the courtyard. "Don't run so fast, Aethusa!" Mom called, but I ignored her warning. Even if he didn't really want to talk to me, I was still really excited to show off what I'd learned.

My sandals slapped loudly against the sun-warmed marble, and I skidded to a breathless halt at the palace entrance.

Father was walking at a calm pace through the gates. The guards were bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle, their eyes only daring to follow him once he'd walked past. Somehow, he looked even taller than I remembered, but everything else about him was the same. Like every other deity, Father didn't change. The passing of time didn't affect him at all. He seemed to glow under the bright sunlight. My eyes squinted as they adjusted to the brightness.

"Father," I stammered as he came closer. "Um, welcome." I was technically supposed to curtsy, even though he was my father, but I never did. None of my friends curtsied for their parents, so it always seemed weird for me to do it. Plus, I wasn't wearing a dress. But Father never said anything, so he didn't seem to care.

"Aethusa." He stopped before me. I tilted my head back so I could see his face. I was always in awe of how tall and strong he looked, especially up close. Would I ever grow up to be like that? "Where is your mother?"

"She's coming." I fidgeted with my spear awkwardly. Now that he was in front of me, it felt like all of my courage and excitement had gone away. Father was too intimidating. His own trident was so much larger and sharper than my own weapon. My recent victories with my spear seemed so small in comparison to his legendary feats. The idea of bragging about catching a few fish became embarrassing. "Hey, um, I've..." I held up my spear a little bit. "I've been practicing a lot lately."

He stared down at me with no expression. "Have you?"

"Yeah!" Just hearing his simple question encouraged me to go on. "I can't catch a lot of fish, yet, but I can catch a few! I even caught a squid! I'm going to keep practicing so I can get better!"

His eyes flickered to the side for a moment before returning to me. "...I hear you've been 'practicing' with the koi in the palace ponds."

I froze up immediately. How did he know that? It was true that I sometimes tried to spear the koi when I didn't feel like going all the way to the beach, but they always got away. I'd never actually hurt them. It was harmless, wasn't it? "Um... yeah, I have. But how did you find out?" My curiosity got the better of me, and I couldn’t resist asking.

"The koi told me when I passed by." His gaze narrowed, and I frowned, staring down at my toes. "Don't do it again."

"Yes, Father," I mumbled. My shoulders drooped. I hadn't even thought about how the koi felt about being used as targets. I can't talk to fish yet, so sometimes I forget that they're just as smart as us.

Then I felt Father's large hand gently rest atop my head, and my eyes grew wide. When I looked up again, he didn't look angry. "The palace koi aren't our enemies. Practice on something else."

"Um, okay." He pulled his hand away and continued to walk down the path towards the palace, where Mom was waiting for him. I reached up and touched my hair where he'd patted it down. It was warm from his touch.

"Aethusa, come now. You're going to be late," Mom called out with a warning in her voice. I sighed and dashed after Father.

---

My lessons on special things like etiquette are taught at home, but I also go to school with other kids a few days a week. Father wanted me to be taught by a tutor at home, but Mom said it was better if I went to school with the other children. She said it was important for me to learn to get along with people and make friends, especially since I would grow up to be an important deity. The school I attend is underwater on Midgard, in Atlantis. Every morning that I have to go to school, I get my things and teleport to Midgard using one of the special rune gates that the adults in the palace use to go back and forth as they want. Right now, I can only use it when I'm going to and from school.

I have friends at school, and the teacher, Triton, is really smart. He treats me like every other kid, and he's really excited when he talks about history. I always pay attention and try to get the best grades in the class, because I want to make Father proud, but sometimes I fail. Triton understands, though, and he cheers me up. He tells me it's alright to fail sometimes, as long as I always give it my best.

Not everyone else in the class is so understanding.

"It's not fair when you bring your spear from home to practice!" My least favorite classmate was starting to complain about my spear again. I'm pretty sure Eumulus would've stomped his foot if he had one, but like the other merpeople he only has a tail, so he just makes an angry face instead. "I bet you bring it just to show off. But no one cares about your stupid silver spear!"

"Shut up, Eumulus!" I wrapped my hands tight around the spear, even though I knew no one was going to take it away. "Triton says it's alright for me to use it for spearing practice, so it's none of your business! It doesn't do anything special, it just looks different!" My spear is really important to me. I got it on my eighth birthday from Uncle Hades, but he told me in secret that my Father had helped design it too. It looks a lot like his trident, so whenever I use it, I think about him.

"You're lying! It's a weapon made by the gods, so it has to be special! Why can't you just use one of the spears the school has?!" Eumulus could tell that he was making me mad, and he smirked.

Eumulus is the son of King Elasippus, the ruler of Atlantis, so I guess that makes him a prince, but all he acts like is a jerk. Sometimes I'd like to call him something even worse, but I got in trouble the last time when Triton overheard me.

"That's enough, Eumulus," Triton warned him. "We've talked about this before. All students are allowed to use a spear from home, and Aethusa's is a normal weapon. Now take your seat and be quiet. I'm going to go over the rules."

We sat down and made faces at each other once Triton had turned around. Eumulus is probably just mad that his dad won't let him bring a fancy spear from home, even though they're royalty.

Triton explained to us that today's practice would be spear-throwing, and he demonstrated the best way to aim for the targets. After that, we split into groups to take turns at the targets. Eumulus wasn't in my group, thankfully, but he was in the group next to us, which was almost as bad.

"For the daughter of Poseidon, you sure are a bad aim," he taunted me as I tried to focus. "Last time you didn't even hit half the targets."

"Knock it off, Eumulus," my friend Clymene snapped at him. "She's trying to concentrate!"

"It won't make a difference," Eumulus laughed. His insults were making my blood boil again, and I missed the target in my anger. "See?"

I'd had enough. I retrieved my spear and got up close to his face. "I'll spear you up close, and then my throwing aim won't matter!"

"You won't spear me! You're a coward." Eumulus looked scared at my threat, but his words were still nasty. "You're so weak for the kid of an Olympian. Your aim sucks, and you can't even control water or talk to fish. You don't even look like you're Poseidon's daughter. Your mother's probably a whor-"

I leapt at him, tearing at his hair. "Shut up! Shut up!" My angry tears bubbled around my eyes in the water. "Poseidon is my dad! You're just jealous that your dad is a lame mortal king!" Eumulus cried out and tried to shove me off as I yanked on his hair. But I was stronger than him, and I was able to get a few scratches on his face before Triton darted over and pulled me away.

"That's enough!" Triton scolded. He brushed both of us off and made sure we weren't seriously hurt. "There will be absolutely no fighting in this class! Eumulus, go sit down at your desk. That was very cruel of you to say." Once Eumulus had sulked away, he looked down at me. "Aethusa, what he said was unkind. I understand you're upset. However, you can't strike people for things they say, even when they upset you. I'll have to speak to your parents, and Eumulus', about what happened." He sounded disappointed.

I rubbed my eyes, wanting my tears to stop. It was embarrassing to cry like that in front of the class, and now my parents were going to be told I'd attacked someone in class. What would they think? "I know. I'm sorry, Master Triton," I mumbled. I blinked hard to clear my vision.

"Now, take a deep breath. Pick up your spear, and try again." He gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

I sniffled and tried to calm myself down as I rejoined my group at the target. But despite the reassurances of Triton and my friends, I couldn't forget Eumulus' stinging words. He'd landed a blow on my deepest fear. Maybe the reason why I didn't look like Father or have his powers was because... I wasn't really his daughter after all.

---

My shoulders were slumped as I walked down the palace halls after school towards my room. Mom wouldn't keep that a secret from me, though, would she? She'd never lie about Father being my father! And wouldn't Father himself know, either way? Maybe I'm actually an orphan they took in, and that's why Father never has time for me. He doesn't want to take care of a kid that isn't his. As much as I wanted to believe that Mom would never keep the truth from me, I also knew there were secrets that adults kept from kids. Just like every other child, I'd been told plenty of times that there were certain things I wasn't ready to know about until I was older. Maybe this was one of those things.

I stood in the doorway of my bedroom, hugging my spear. Maybe something's wrong with me. Maybe I am Father's daughter, but there's something keeping me from having the same abilities. As a nymph, Mom has a lot of the same powers as Father, just on a smaller scale. Just like him, she can talk to fish and move the water. All of her family members - my grandparents, aunts, and uncle - can too. Perhaps I was just born weak, doomed to never have the same cool powers as other water deities.

I stared down at my reflection on the spearhead's smooth surface. Seeing my own sad face just made me feel worse, but then I had an idea. Maybe I just haven't proved that I'm worthy yet. I probably haven't been practicing as hard as I should be. Trying to spear fish in a pond was pretty pathetic. If I gave myself a good push, would that awaken my powers? But where could I find such an opportunity?

I could still feel the faint hum of power that came from the rune gate. I stepped back from the doorway and stared down the hall, mulling over my idea. I could still go through the gate to Midgard right now. I had a window of time every day that I was able to use the gate, ideally for school. I could go to the ocean outside of Atlantis and really put my skills to the test. Then I would know for sure if Poseidon was really my father, and if I was truly born a weakling or just unpracticed.

I ran back into my room and grabbed my satchel from its shelf. I scooped a few items that might prove useful inside and slipped it across my body before bolting back out towards the gate. If I hurried, no one would see me. Sure enough, the hallway was empty of any servants, and my quick escape to the gate went unnoticed.

I'll prove myself, and then Eumulus will have no choice but to shut up once and for all. I gritted my teeth as I stepped onto the rune gate's platform. The tingling purple energy the rune emitted felt even stronger than usual against my frazzled senses. "Midgard," I commanded, in the same voice I heard my parents use.

And with that, I felt myself being swept back to the oceans of the mortal plane.

---

Author’s notes: Woohoo, Poseidon has a daughter! Or a maybe daughter? Naw, she is his kid. She’s just a silly ten year old who doesn’t know any better. lol

Her parents probably haven’t given her The Talk yet, so she doesn’t know how they could be sooo sure Poseidon is her dad. If she was older, he’d probably just tell her with a straight face, “I know because I was there when you were conceived.”

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #poseidon #OC #Poseidon x OC #record of ragnarok #fanfiction #au #snv #ror #record of ragnarok poseidon

74 notes · View notes

gale-gentlepenguin · 4 years

Text

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 34

Man these parts are getting harder and harder to churn out. A lot of plot points converging and real life ramping up. Hopefully you all enjoy this. Please comment your thoughts on the chapter. And if you really liked it, Reblog it. Thats the best way to get others to see it. Also, Please let me know your thoughts. Your comments fuel me.

(Master Post)

_____________________________________________________________

Masquerade surveyed the classroom. Her former classmates now her masked servants. It was fitting how they were all silent. Before, they listened to her because she told them exactly the things they wanted to hear, now they listened because she had power over them. It was kind of poetic in a way.

She looked across the classroom, she realized that there seemed to be more people missing than she initially realized.

“We are missing someone. Aside from Marinette, who is missing?”

The controlled classmates looked amongst themselves. Trying to figure out who was the one that was not in the class.

“Is it Chloé?” Miracular inquired, trying to answer her master’s request.

The akuma looked around.

“Huh… Oh yea, she isn’t here. Well she isn’t important. I was thinking someone else.” Masquerade answered. She looked to her most recently made akuma servant.

The Bubbler, the akumatized version of Nino stood motionless. As if he was not registering what was going on.

“Bubbler? Do you know who is missing?”

The multicolored akuma said nothing. Not even looking in the direction of the mask maiden.

“Bubbler! I order you to answer me!” She commanded with fiery rage.

The akuma turned to face his master, now responding.

“Adrien is missing.” The bubbler answered, his voice robotic and as emotive as a speak and spell.

“So, Adrien isn’t in the room. What a shame. I was planning on turning him into my handsome little knight.”

Masquerade thought for a moment.

Has Adrien been akumatized? Lila wasn’t sure she had ever seen or heard about him getting akumatized. She knew that the class had pretty much gotten hit at least once or twice at some point from what she had heard and read from the ladyblog. But if that goody-goody Marinette hadn’t been akumatized, Adrien likely hadn’t been akumatized either.

“Alright my servants! We have a new mission. I want you to lock this school down! No one is allowed in or out. Anyone you find, bring them to me. If they can be akumatized, then they are joining our cause.”

“Time breaker. Guard the perimeter outside of the school. Anyone outside of Ladybug and Chat noir trying to get in. Tag them, but only if they are suspicious of what’s going on. Stay hidden otherwise.”

“Timebreaker nodded and began skating out of the room in a rush.

“Horrificator, once Timebreaker is outside, seal all the exits in the main building.”

The masked monstress nodded and sped out of the room.

“Dark Cupid, Stoneheart, Princess Fragrance, Miracular and Reflekta. I want you to split up check all of the rooms and bring me potential akumas.”

The five akuma nodded and made their way out the door.

“Gamer and Robostus. I want you to hack into the airwaves. I want access to every Electric device in Paris when I give you the signal. But make sure to be subtle. I don’t want anyone to know about us until I tell you.”

The two nod and start working to get that ready for her.

She focuses her attention to the bubble making akuma that was giving her problems earlier.

Considering how hard it was to break him down, it was understandable. She had saved him for last for a reason. Because he was the hardest one to crack.

He was a relatively calm individual, able to keep a level head. But even he had his weakness. His confidence. Once that was shaken, seeing his entire class taken, knowing his girlfriend was under her control, he couldn't resist another moment. In a way, it was the most satisfying charm on her bracelet.

“Now Bubbler, you are going to go and locate Marinette and Adrien for me. Put them in a bubble and bring them to me. Help that girlfriend of yours.”

The bubbler nodded yes despite severe shaking. Seems even now he is trying to resist the control of the mask.

“Troublesome, but it is only temporary. He will break soon enough.” Masquerade mused to herself.

She looked at the near empty room with contempt. This was hardly a place where she could exact her vengeance. It was so… lame. Though a thought occurs as she realized who she had left standing at attention without orders.

“Evillustrator, I have a special request for you.”

________________________________________________________

“What is this?” Chloé screeched. “My daddy bought me the best phone plan in the city. How can I not have service right now?!”

The nurse felt a chill run down her spine. Could the akuma block out phone signals? Is that why there is no attention being given to the school? How could they call for help? How would anyone know of the akuma attack? Would Ladybug and Chat noir be able to help them?

The nurse started to feel herself going pale, she was just supposed to be a school nurse. Worst thing she needed to deal with was a scraped knee or give a kid an ice pack. Now she has a woman that collapsed on the bed and an akuma that is somewhere in the school. She had just moved to Paris a few months ago. It was her dream to live in the city of love, get her career going, find a nice guy, and just live the good life. But no one told her that supervillain attacks would be so personally connected to her situation? She had heard about this crap in New York and in America. But Paris? It was too much. What if Ladybug and Chat noir didn’t fix everything? What if this was where her story ended. What if…

“Hey!”

The nurse turned to her attention to the voice. It was the brash blonde teen that was complaining.

“You look like you’re going to pass out. Just a heads up, I am not taking care of you.” Chloé commented.

Angela felt her face heat up with annoyance.

“Listen you brat. I don’t have time to deal with your attitude. I have a woman that is out cold from exhaustion in a building with a hostile akuma.”

“Good, at least you aren’t going to faint. I don’t need any more whinny women fainting on me”

The nurse paused, did the girl say that just to help her not succumb to the grim situation?

Chloé started making her way to the door.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“You already got your hands full with the annoying assistant. I need to make a call to daddy. So, I am going to head out the building and try there. Try not to get ripped apart by an akuma, I still need more ice when I get back.”

Angela blinked. This girl wasn’t scared of the akuma. She was actually going out to do something reasonable. If she could call for help, it would mean that this whole thing blows over.

“Okay, I’ll stay here. Be safe.”

“Yea whatever.”

Chloé headed out the door.

Angela felt a ghost of a smile grace her face.

‘Maybe that girl isn’t a complete brat after all.’

__________________________________________________

The shapeshifting sentimonster growled as it smacked the locker. It lost both primary targets. And worst of all, Ladybug appeared to make this even harder. Masquerade needed to hear about this.

“Master, Marinette and Adrien have escaped my sight.”

The sentimonster heard a sigh of disappointment from the other end.

“It is fine Simularé, They wont be able to escape the school anyway. They will be found soon enough. If anything, this is a blessing in disguise. Having them be the last targets will have them bare witness to how devasting it will all be.” Masquerade answered. “Any news on Ladybug and Chat noir?”

“That’s the other bad news. Ladybug arrived, I am assuming that’s how Marinette managed to escape, and ladybug also took Adrien away as well. No sign of chat noir. But if you know one is here, the other is likely soon to follow.”

There was a brief moment of silence, as masquerade mulled over the information she had received.

“Actually, that works out well for us. Meet up at my location, I have the other students out looking for them, I need your power for something more important.”

“Yes master.”

Simularé shifted back into its phantom form, moving quickly down the hallway to obey her master’s request.

Just as it left, Ladybug popped out of a nearby locker. Relieved it didn’t notice.

“That’s not good, Masquerade likely got everyone in the classroom.” The red heroine said aloud.

She activated her communicator and tried to contact chat noir. But there was no sound.

“Damn it. No signal. Lila likely cut the communication as soon as she realized it.?”

“No worries Buggaboo, I happen to be on site.” A voice called out.

Chat noir jumped out of another locker to reveal he was there.

Ladybug felt a bit of relief at her partner’s appearance. She could tell he felt the same. Better a situation with two heroes.

“Been here the whole time?” The spotted heroine asked her cat crimefighting comrade.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago, I figured something was up, so I decided to take a quick peek. Cat curiosity and all that.”

“And you assumed it was with Collège Françoise Dupont?”

“It seemed like a solid guess.”

“Considering the track record, that is reasonable.” Ladybug conceded.

“Ever wonder why it is always this school and never any of the other schools? Paris is a big city. You would think Hawkmoth would decide to branch out to the other schools in the city.” Chat noir inquired as they started walking down the hall.

“I assumed its just a coincidence.”

“Shot in the dark, maybe he has a kid that goes here. He is pretty old” Chat noir dissed.

“I can’t imagine anyone that would want to date Hawkmoth.” Ladybug joked.

“What about the blue lady? She seemed crazy enough.”

“And now that image is burned in my mind. Thanks kitty.” Ladybug sarcastically commented. “Despite the mental scarring, I am glad you got here. Seems a repeat offender got herself an upgrade in the akuma powers department.”

“Lila.”

“How did you know?”

“I was reading the ladyblog, Alya did great work on that article.” Chat noir praised. He mentally applauded his quick thinking.

“Right, kind of the reason I felt the need to keep an eye on this place. But sadly, I was too slow.” Ladybug responded a tad gloomy.

“Hey, don’t sweat it. We will finish this akuma before lunch.”

Ladybug heard a footstep from the end of the hallway.

“Get down!”

Ladybug tackled the cat hero down. Just narrowly avoiding a neon pause symbol, which now suck on the wall.

“Looks like Lila has been busy.” Chat noir noted as he turned his face to the direction of the attacker.

Ladybug looked at the akuma. The white mask covering her friend’s face. Lady Wifi was back.

“Alya…”

The two heroes got into a fighting stance and prepared to take down this controlled akuma.

________________________________________________

The halls were empty and lifeless as the two visiting teens made their way cautiously down the halls.

“Oddly quiet in here.” The fencer commented. “What do you think Luka?”

“Well last time we entered a place with an akuma in it, it was brimming with armored minions. Maybe this akuma has more stealth?” The Musician commented. “So, I don’t think you will be fighting as directly as you are use to Kagami.”

Kagami nodded at that, not exactly happy or sad regarding that remark. Her plan was to see if she could help her friends get out of the building, grab her textbook, and get out. She wasn’t really that interested in fighting a superpowered foe at this moment in time.

The two ceased speaking when they heard approaching footsteps.

“Someone’s coming.” Luka noted.

The two duck into the nearest room.

The two stayed close to the door as they listened to the sound of the approaching figure.

Kagami dropped to the floor silently as to check and see if she could get a visual.

She could only see what appeared to be costume boots of a larger figure. Which made the expert fencer believe it was not friendly.

The figure stopped, looking at the door. The two teens felt their neck hairs stand on edge as they did their best not to make a sound.

After what felt like an eternity, the figure passed the door without checking. Once the sound of his footsteps could no longer be heard, they let out a sigh of relief.

“That was way too close for comfort.”

“Agreed. I would prefer a direct confrontation next time, much less nerve-racking. “

The two carefully open the door and exit the room.

“Seems we found the akuma.” Luka commented. “Now we just need to avoid it and.”

“You mean akumas.” Kagami corrected.

“Akumas?”

Kagami tilted the boys head to look in the same direction she was looking, and sure enough she saw a rather large rock like creature walking the halls.

“Oh… well that is bad.”

Kagami pushed him back into the room and closed the door. Locking it before the rock giant could notice them.

“I’m surprised.”

“By the fact there is an 8-foot-tall rock beast outside?”

“No, by the fact you didn’t try to fight it.”

“I don’t have a weapon.” Kagami replied flatly.

Luka raised a brow at the comment, unsure if the fencer was serious or not about fighting that thing if she had a foil.

“Is something wrong?” A third voice came from behind them.

The two teens turned around, preparing for the worst. Though they were relieved to see it was just an old janitor… in a Hawaiian shirt. Despite his odd dress, he did give off a kind aura. One of a trusting old grandpa.

They noticed that the room seemed to be a sort of teacher’s lounge, with a small counter with a sink and cabinets. As well as a fridge to keep food cold and stored. A place in the school where teachers would come to get a quick coffee or store their lunch.

“Oh good, you aren’t an akuma.” Luka sighed with relief.

“An akuma?” The old man asked.

“Yes, it is very dangerous out there right now. There are multiple villains outside. I would recommend staying put while we go out there and help handle things.” Kagami explained.

“Quite bold of you to go out there against those monsters.” The man responded.

“Don’t worry, we will be careful. We just need to make sure we can get as many people out as we can so Ladybug and Chat noir won’t need to worry.”

“Ah, how selfless of you. You both seem quite capable for ones so young.”

“You’re very kind, but we are just doing what we can. Our friends are out there and they need our help.”

Kagami goes to the door. Checking to ensure the coast is clear again.

The old man pats the musician’s shoulder.

“I am sure you two will figure a way to help your friends.”

“There are too many outside this room.” Kagami grumbled. If only I had a way to fight them.”

The mysterious janitor smiled.

“Say… I did happen to see Ladybug earlier.”

The two teens turned their attention to the old man.

“You did?” they asked in unison.

“Yes, she happened to drop something while rushing. Would you two be so kind as to return them to her when you see her.”

The two of them glance at each other and shrug. The old janitor might be senile.

“Sure… We can give it to her.” Luka assured the old man, trying to remain polite.

The old man moves to a closet, where out of view of the two teens, an elaborate chest with the symbol of the guardian’s decorates the top. He quickly gets two smaller boxes and closes the closet.

“Ah! Here they are.”

He hands the two a small box each. Their eyes go wide.

“They seemed important, so I didn’t want to just leave them on the floor. But I have a feeling you two will take good care of them.”

The two teens were engrossed by the boxes in their hands. They recognized them immediately. These were the boxes Ladybug used when handing out miraculous.

“Where did you find…?” Kagami tried to question, but noticed the old man was no longer there.

“He’s gone…”

“Actually, I am over here.”

The teens look in the opposite direction they were looking in order to see him at the end of the room getting a snack from the fridge.

The duo decided that maybe this old guy wasn’t all there after all and figured it would be best to go somewhere and utilize the ‘gift’ they were just given.

“Stay in the lounge where it’s safe okay?” Luka asked politely.

“Of course. I am not paid if I am not working.”

The two teens checked the door again, and once the coast was clear. They both slipped out of the room.

After he knew they were out of sight, the old man chuckled.

“The senile routine works every time.”

“Master, you really cut it close with that one.” A small turtle creature exclaimed as he popped out from the closet.

“The universe works in mysterious ways Wayzz. What are the odds that there would be an attack on the school the very day I decide to hide out as a janitor?”

“Considering the frequency of akuma attacks, very likely.”

“True, but how about running into two individuals that Marinette had picked to be heroes.” Fu followed up.

“That is quite a coincidence.”

The guardian pulled out his phone and noticed he didn’t have a signal.

“It seems I can’t get a signal to notify her of the reinforcements I sent her way. Likely it would be the same on her end. So, it is a good thing I acted in advance.”

Fu moved to the closet where he kept the miraculous.

“I can’t help but shake the feeling Ladybug and Chat noir will need all of the help they can get.

“Don’t worry master, I am sure Ladybug and Chat noir will be successful.

“Let us keep an eye on things. They might need another ally to turn the tide.

________________________________________________________

“I am guessing you are also familiar with what’s inside here?” Kagami inquired as the two stealthily moved in the hall.

“I may be familiar with it.” Luka commented.

Kagami contemplated the statement. She figured out the truth.

“Seems we both have used a miraculous then?”

“It appears we have. Though I am not sure Ladybug will be thrilled that someone knows I have helped her.”

“I understand the sentiment. Though lets simply agree to keep it between us.” Kagami answered. “Friends do keep secrets like that if I’m correct.”

Luka smiled at the comment.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Luka assured.

“As is yours.”

The two found the locker room and quickly moved inside.

“Coast is clear.”

The two opened the boxes and as they did two magical creatures appeared in front of them.

A floating creature with multiple spikes appeared in front of the fencer, while another floating creature that resembled a cobra stood in front of luka.

“It is a pleasure to see you again Mistress Kagami.”

“It’s been too long, Longg.” Kagami smiled. Happy to see her kwami friend.

“Hello Luka, itssss been a while.” The snake kwami greeted.

“Happy to see you too Sass.” Luka fist bumped his kwami.

The kwamis stop and turn to see the other kwami there.

“Does Ladybug know about this?” They both ask in unison.

“We will inform her after. Right now, there is a lot of danger.” Kagami exclaimed. “Ladybug needs our help.”

The two kwami nod and prepare to fight.

“Consssider us accomplissses.” Sass answered.

The two teens put on the miraculous.

“Sass! Scales Slither.”

“Longg! Bring the storm”

The two teens transform into their heroic alter egos.

Kagami shifting into the dragon miraculous hero Ryuuko, and Luka changing into the Snake hero Viperion.

The two stop to glance at the other.

“So, what should I call you.” The snake hero asked curiously.

“Call me Ryuuko. And what about you mister snake?”

“Viperion is what I am going with.”

“Fitting.”

“As is yours.”

The two give a nod of comradery before making their way out of the locker room. They had to go help Ladybug.

__________________________________________________

Ladybug dashed across the hallway, avoiding pause symbols being flung at her by the conniving akuma.

She slid underneath one of the symbols and preformed a daring slide kick to knock Lady Wifi off balance.

While she was unstable, Chat noir charged and used his baton to make contact with her white mask. Believing it was the obvious weak point.

“Got it!” Chat noir exclaimed triumphantly. The strike of the staff knocking Ladywifi a good several meters. Before lying flat on her back.

“Wow, that is a tough mask. I thought for sure that was the weak point.” Chat noir commented.

Lady Wifi stood up robotically.

“There must be a way to snap her out of it. Unless Hawkmoth is learning from his mistakes.” Ladybug hypothesized as she got up from the ground.

“Well I got nothing.” Chat noir shrugged.

Another set of footsteps approaching caught the hero’s attention. The recognized the multicolored bubble maker the moment they saw him.

“Nino… You too?” Chat noir said under his breath.

The Bubble maker used his bubble wand to summon two large bubbles to capture the heroes. Bringing back flashbacks of their first encounter with the bubble akuma.

Chat noir and Ladybug expertly slide between the gaps of the attack, resulting in Lady Wifi getting hit with the large bubbles and being sent flying into the wall via bubble prison.

Chat noir lunged at the Bubbler, his quick pounce pinning him down before he could attack.

“Maybe I can destroy his mask with…”

“Wait Chat noir!” Ladybug called out.

Chat noir paused.

“What if your cataclysm doesn’t free him?”

“And then I am left without the power before a recharge.”

“Exactly. We need to hold off on using our powers right now.”

Chat noir wanted to save his friend. But he knew his partner was right. They needed to conserve their powers before facing Lila.

The Bubbler managed to get the cat hero off of him with a burst of strength. Knocking Chat noir to the ground.

Lady Wifi had gotten free from the bubble attack and was now blocking the other entrance.

Ladybug and Chat noir moved back to back, Ladybug facing the ladyblogger turned mindless akuma slave and Chat noir facing the akumatized DJ.

“Any ideas, Buggaboo?”

“Seems they can’t adapt. They are pretty much mindless slaves. Which makes sense since Lila wouldn’t want them to think for themselves.”

“So you’re saying their movements are simple.”

“Which means they are exploitable.”

Chat noir felt relief watch over him. He knew Ladybug had a plan.

_____________________________________________________

“EWWWW!” Chloé screeched in disgust. The front entrance to the school had been covered in a pink slime.

She wiped her hand on the cleanest section of wall she could find. This was not her day.

“What is with this nasty gross akuma? First, I can’t call Daddy to come and pick me up. I can’t even post about it! How will Ladybug know to save me? Or better yet, get me the bee miraculous so I can help her save the day?”

Chloé decided to try another exit, since she had no plans of sticking around without knowing if she was going to be given a miraculous or not. Plus, she did say she would call for help, and doing that would make her look good in potential hero points.

As she was walking, she bumps into something in the middle of the hall. Which was bizzare since the hall was clear.

“Ouch, right on my bruise. What the hell is…”

Chloé felt her anger shift to fear when she watched as the empty hall now contained a familiar akuma.

“Sabrina?”

The akuma turned to her, her face covered with a white face mask.

“Eww. Your akuma form looks even tacker than before.”

“Take potential akuma to master.” The akumatized Sabrina stated in an emotionless tone. Repeating the order, she had been given.

“Oh no you don’t! Sabrina, I order you to listen to me!”

The akuma ignored the blonde’s command and slowly walked towards her.

“Sabrina… I am warning you. I am going to yell at you over this later if you don’t stop right now.”

Chloé started slowly backing away. She wasn’t sure of what to do.

“Listen… if you stop right now… I’ll uh… let you take a pick of one of my old sweaters.” Chloé bargained, not intending to let her pick one of the ones she actually liked.

Chloé felt her hand touch the sealed door, and knew she was at the end of the hall. She was boxed in.

“This is so unacceptable.” Chloé stated, preparing to get captured. But a flash of Red and Black came out of nowhere and kicked the akuma hard to the wall.

“Ladybug! I knew you would like save me!” Chloé jumped and hugged her savior.

“Im not ladybug.” The heroine spoke.”

Chloé released the hug as she examined who her savior was.

“Who the hell are you?”

Chloé had never bothered to learn the names of any of the other miraculous heroes. She sometimes forgets chat noir’s name.

“Ryuuko.” The dragon heroine stated calmly, almost regretting saving Chloé.

“Did Ladybug send you? Cause it would have been better if she got me to help.”

Ryuuko decided to ignore Chloé’s comment.

“Now we need to leave before she… Where did she go?” Looking at the dented locker that no longer had an akuma lying on the ground.

Suddenly the akuma popped out of nowhere about to strike from above with her tonfa and steal Ryuuko’s powers, but was stopped when a small harp smacked her face.

“She appears to have invisibility.” A voice called out.

The two turn to see the snake hero as he caught his harp on the rebound.

Chloé took a moment to look over the snake hero. She had to admit, he was pretty cute. Not Adrien cute, maybe she would start learning the names of the other heroes.

“Quick thinking Viperion.” Ryuuko thanked the snake teen.

“Just following your lead.” Viperion responded. The two giving eachother a respectful smile. They both seemed to have gotten used to working together.

The akuma got up. Its white face mask making the akuma’s expression unreadable. But its body language exuded rage.

“Seems we aren’t going anywhere until she is taken care of.” Ryuuko said as she stared down the akuma.

Viperion turned to chloé.

“You need to go and get to safety.”

“Okay!” Chloé says as she runs off.

“How come she didn’t give you any sass?”

“Because I already have him.”

Kagami had to admit that was a clever response.

“Not what I meant, but Chat noir would love that joke.”

“I will be sure to tell him it later.”

“Stick to playing guitar. You’re a better musician than comedian.”

Before they could get off anymore banter. The akuma went for another attack.

________________________________________________________

Simularé entered Ms.Bustier’s classroom.

“I am here.” The ghostly sentimonster announced.

“Excellent.”

The sentimonster looked up to see that the classroom it was expeciting to see had been altered into what appeared to be a rather glamourous throne room. The windows covered by white curtains with the design of an akuma in black. The platforms and stairs had been altered to be marble. And at the top, where Lila’s desk once was was now a golden throne akin to something one would see in a castle. Though despite the impressive change in the classroom it was still being designed. The akuma known as the evillustrator was still creating more furnishings for the room.

“Simulare, I have an order for you.” Masquerade stated as she sat on the new throne. Clearly confident in her position.

The sentimonster approached her master. Stopping only a few feet away.

“I want you to create a mirage over the school. Since Ladybug is already in the school. It would be best if you made sure no one notices whats happening here. I don’t need any additional heroes popping in yet. Let’s handle her before making things public.”

Simularé nodded.

“Understood. But what should we do if she…”

“I have everything under control. Just follow my orders.”

Simularé ceased her questioning.

“As you wish master.”

The sentimonster shifted into her Volpina form and headed out of the classroom.

“She is getting arrogant in her power. If things do go south, I will need to step in.” Simularé said to herself. But for now, she knew she had a role to play.

_____________________________________________________________

And that ends part 34.

Seems things are REALLY heating up. Will Viperion and Ryuuko be able to help Ladybug and Chat noir?

Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to get through to their brainwashed friends?

Will Masquerade's gambit be enough for her to get her vengeance?

Whats Simularé's deal?

Find out by staying tuned and sharing. Remember Reblogs help content creators and if you do enjoy my content, the support really does help

593 notes · View notes

makeste · 3 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 318: On Your Left

Previously on BnHA: The Hawksquad+Lurkers were all “well this sucks” and sat around a bit talking about how maybe they should actually come up with a new plan that is actually good, but then in the end they were like “nah.” Deku was all, “THERE’S SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE!! CONSUMING, CONFUSING!! THIS LACK OF SELF CONTROL I FEAR IS NEVERENDING. IT’S HAUNTING HOW I CANT SEEM TO FIND MYSELF AGAIN. MY WALLS ARE CLOSING IN.” Just, literally that whole entire song. All Might was all “Deku you should take care of yourself, try eating a thing,” and Deku was all “BYE, ALL MIGHT,” and just LEFT. He left!!! What the fuck!!!

Today on BnHA: Endeavor is all, “maybe if Deku didn’t listen to All Might he’ll listen to me instead.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t listen to Endeavor]” because, well, yeah. The Vestiges are all, “surprisingly, even we are a little concerned -- maybe you should get some rest, kid.” Deku is all, “((Ò ‸ Ó)).” The Vestiges are all, “holy shit.” Deku is all, “[wanders the ruined city streets terrifying the populace on account of him looking like Shelob had a baby with one of the Nazgul].” Some shriveled-up puppeteer villain asshole is all, “HORIKOSHI SAID IT’S MY TURN TO ATTACK DEKU TODAY SO I AM GOING TO SUMMON MY FRIGHTENED HELPLESS ATTACK MOB!!” Kacchan is all “WHADDYA MEAN THEY FOUND THE NERD!!! -- oh wait, that’s me, I found him. I found the nerd, you guys.” And just in time, too. I was about to owe a whole lot of people a whole lot of dollars.

so I have been super good about spoilers this week as always, but let me tell you guys, for the past 36 hours my dash filters have basically been nonstop “manga spoilers” this and “bnha 318” that, and so I’m coming in with a fair amount of hype here. your move, Horikoshi

oh, good! they got Endeavor to call Deku to try to talk him out of it. what a great and wonderful plan

“listen up kid, you haven’t slept since March and you are basically a walking biohazard right now, I’m just telling it like it is. didn’t you get shot like three times?? and there was a whole thing about how you urgently needed medical attention?? and supposedly we gave it to you, but I mean you haven’t even changed your clothes and don’t seem to have any fresh bandages or anything, so did we?? did we, really?? and also we all got blown up yesterday, so yeah.” hmm he’s making some reasonable points here you guys, but you sure do go on and on, Endeavor

oh he says foreign aid is finally on its way! I’m sure they’ll be very helpful. I mean in fairness they can hardly be worse than the home-grown heroes at this point

hey Enji, could you maybe try appealing to Deku the sixteen-year-old human boy, as opposed to Deku The World’s Last Hope? he does have value beyond his quirk. I know that’s always been an incredibly difficult concept for you to grasp, but could you maybe TRY, jesus

and also we’re worried about you as a person?? you’re just a kid and you’re pushing yourself way too hard?? you were going to say that part next, right. why the hell didn’t Hawks make this call instead

“don’t worry about me... I’m completely fine” Deku you do understand that saying it over and over again doesn’t actually make it true

and again with the rush!! all the rush rush rush!! we’re running out of time, we can’t let AFO and Tomura keep getting stronger, I have to end this now, there’s no time to rest, etc. etc. etc. just the constant pressure of this whole big countdown on top of everything else

holy shit, you KNOW it’s bad when even the Vestiges are telling him to chill

these guys are basically the walking talking embodiments of self-sacrifice; if even they’re telling him he needs to take five, then he must seriously be like half a step away from death’s door

OH SHIT LMAO

DIDN’T EVEN LET HIM FINISH HIS SENTENCE BEFORE HE SENT HIM INTO THE FUCKING SHADOW REALM WITH THAT FUCKING LOOK. HOLY FUCK. DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DIE TWICE. SHIT

(ETA: so I’m pretty sure this was just Danger Sense activating and so he cut them off to go do more hero stuff, but I’m gonna go ahead and stick to my original interpretation anyway lol.)

anyway so how’s everybody doing. we all good? En, you good? Banjou? Shino? I’m imagining you guys all curled up in a little ball on the floor right now lol. can’t say I blame you though, no shame

lmaoooooooooooo

“SHEESH.” sheesh indeed, lmao. “what in the FUCK was that”

see, this is why y’all need Kacchan. you need someone who’s not going to back down from him no matter what. if it’s a matter of out-stubborning Midoriya fucking Izuku, then there’s only one other person on the planet capable of that, and we all know it. don’t pretend like you don’t. I am not going to shut up about this! we’ve had our hurt so now what about SOME COMFORT, DAMMIT

“I’m afraid that he’s becoming influenced by my conscience” nah are you kidding Nana this is all 100% made-in-Japan pure original Deku right here

see, Banjou gets it. “that kid, he’s totally going on his own.” exactly. this was so inevitable it was basically scientific law

“well I for one don’t see the problem with Deku being so obsessed with saving everyone else that he pushes himself until his body and soul literally fall apart” okay, whose speech bubbles are these?? we’re about to have words

lol of course

well you always did prefer the direct route didn’t you. but even you can’t possibly think this is okay lol

dark AU!Kacchan please tell us more about your badass doomed timeline in which everything went to shit and you apparently had the same character arc that Deku is having right now except it somehow made you sexier instead of turning you into a rabid t-rex. I have so many questions

oh so now you want to help??? well -- good, actually. sorry if that sounded offended just now lol

(ETA: so at first when I got to the end of this chapter I was wondering if Katsuki B. had somehow summoned his alternate-universe counterpart through trippy OFA space telepathy lol. but in the original Japanese there’s no reference to “we”, so this appears to be a mistranslation. this line should probably read more like “if there’s something/someone out there that would be able to complement/complete the current Midoriya Izuku [it would be]…” which, oh hello, is that Horikoshi once again reaffirming that Deku and Bakugou complete each other lol. “guess what guys, the Vestiges ship it too" heck yeah. they know what’s up!)

look how admiring his boyfriends are. HORIKOSHI GIVE US THE REST OF THIS BACKSTORY ALREADY GODDAMMIT

“meanwhile somewhere in the depths of the ruined city, Deku was having a dance-off with the villains”

I like how the villains all have this “AHH WHAT THE FUCK” kind of body language to them lol. I mean if it were me, and an eldritch horror suddenly clawed its way from the shadows with its writhing glowy tentacles and pants-shitting nuclear death stare, I would probably just die on the spot. no need to stick around. only pain awaits

lol for a minute I thought this was Can’t Ya See-kun and I was like “WHAT A FASCINATING CROSSING OF PATHS” but it’s just some random girl

he seems genuinely confused lol

Deku it’s because you look like something that crawled out of a sewer drain, sweetheart

lol they just took his word for it?

so trusting. even though they’re immediately hauling ass anyway just to be safe lmao

“my appearance is frightening to others” no shit Deku it’s because you look like a fucking alien exorcism. you look like a Lich that got caught up in an oil spill my dude

NO NOT THE CHOSEN ONE ANGST AGAIN

I RAN OUT OF ESSAY JUICE FOR THIS ALREADY HORIKOSHI!! I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT IT FOR MONTHS NOW WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!! BUT ANYWAYS, GOOD!! I MEAN, BAD, THOUGH, OBVIOUSLY. BUT YES

“ENJOY THIS MONTAGE OF DEKU BATTLING A RANDOM KAIJU AND WANDERING THE WOODS LIKE A DERANGED GREEN BABA YAGA” okay yes but sir, exactly how much longer is this going to go on. if it’s a matter of you wanting to make sure we get it, let me assure you that aside from a few stray chuunis who think that Deku embracing the Darkness is the coolest thing he’s ever done, all of us here in fandom fully comprehend that this is Not Good

-- OH SO IT’S LIKE THAT

really. with the flashbacks to his loved ones’ smiling faces and everything. not even gonna try to aim above the belt, huh

AND NO KACCHAN??! NO CLASSMATES?!?! IS HE PURPOSELY NOT THINKING OF THEM??? OR ARE THEY BEING SAVED FOR THE NEXT PAGE??? SO HELP ME, IF THE NEXT PART OF THIS SENTENCE IS “CAN PROTECT THEM”, OR EVEN WORSE, “CAN SEE THEIR SMILING FACES AGAIN”, I...

WHAT DID I JUST SAY

(ETA: my man did Sero and Kaminari fucking dirty lmao. I miss their smiling faces too omg.)

the sheer, unparalleled irony of him saying this while he stands there looking like the gargoyle demon from Fantasia got crossed with an umbrella that got struck by lightning. Deku :(

oi who the fuck is this clown

is he controlling this mob with his evil hair. “what if I made an exhausted, running-on-fumes Deku battle a brainwashed mob at Ground Zero.” Horikoshi do you just have like a checklist of horrible things you want to do to your protagonist

easy there Sasori

well joke’s on you buddy because he’s apparently “completely fine”, so

“here’s to hoping that you know more about AFO’s location than the others” jesus christ Deku you really have hung your mercy out to dry huh

now he’s forcing his mob of terrified prisoners to attack Deku ahhhh. sucks to be them. at least they’re not being controlled by bees

so Deku is saying that Sasori’s control can be broken with “physical trauma.” similar to Shinsou’s quirk I guess. but so does that mean he’s gonna have to hurt them? ( •﹏•)

NO NOT MORE SAD EYES

“DEATH BY EMPATHY!!!” HORIKOSHI NO

fuck. he looks like he’s on the verge of passing out

this is what happens when you nerf a character’s self-preservation stats in favor of spamming their bone-breaking stats instead. NOW ACCEPTING BRAIN CELL DONATIONS FOR A BOY IN NEED!! with your loving generosity we can hopefully help him live to the ripe old age of seventeen

OMGFGGG

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

[grabs your hands] ლ(*꒪ヮ꒪*)ლ [swings you in a circle] へ(ﾟ◇ﾟへ)

THASSSSSSSS WHATSSSSSSS UPPPPPPPPPP

HORIKOSHI REALLY SAID FUCK THAT MASK (ノ°ο°)ノ YOU FINALLY LEARNED!! IT’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!!

JUST FOR YOU KACCHAN, HORIKOSHI LEFT THIS ONE BAD GUY WHO’S STILL WEAK TO FIRE. GOD BLESS

IT’S YOUR COUNTERPART, KATSUKI B!!!! HOW WE DOIN OVER THERE IN THE TRIPPY COSMIC OFA SPACE REALM LOL. DO WE BELIEVE YET, FANDOM???

LIGHTS!!!!

INSTANT RESULTS!!! IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE!!!

(ETA: imagine what this must look like to Deku though. he’s been caught up in this dark cloud of despair and exhaustion that’s been building up over... I’m gonna go ahead and say “weeks”, because yeah. and now he finds himself here, in the place where All Might’s legacy ended and the torch was passed to him. and the world is in ruins, and he’s surrounded by frightened people who are all trying to hurt him -- because who isn’t trying to hurt him, these days -- and he’s scrambling to figure this all out, but meanwhile the weariness is finally starting to catch up to him, and so he’s basically just standing there in a fog of complete and utter misery.

and then all of a sudden through that haze, he hears the one voice that’s more familiar than any other that he knows. like, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was just imagining it at first. Kacchan showing up to save him right when he’s at his most desperate and feeling the most alone. Kacchan, showing up to save him.

this is the person he always looked up to as a child (to be fair he was quite a strange child lmao). the person who was even closer to him than All Might. the person he always thought was amazing. and bam, here he is now. appearing in the sky out of nowhere to one-shot the bad guy with a single blast (which, btw, that was his armor-piercing attack too lmao dslkjlk take it easy there kiddo). like, that must have felt absolutely surreal to him, especially coming at a time when he’s already half-delirious and barely hanging on to reality. he must have really thought that he was losing it there for a second.

but he’s really there. it really is him. and for this brief moment -- before the rest of the situation catches up to him, and he remembers about all of the fucked-up AFO stuff, and remembers why he was so afraid and why he was pushing everyone away -- for just this one brief moment, he’s too exhausted and stunned to do anything except to just react. just stands there, looking up at him in awe.

and you know, it almost reminds me of...

just. you guys. the character development. the freaking character development. someone who brings reassurance. someone who shows up and makes you think, “oh, it’s all going to be okay now, because [person] is here.” the role reversals. the growth. the payoff!! because who is the one person who always had faith that Kacchan would one day grow up to become an amazing hero like that. WHO IS IT. YOU ALREADY KNOW.

omg. anyways, bless you Horikoshi, my feels which have been on backorder since fucking September have finally arrived lmao. yes, good, thank you. worth the wait. it is always, always worth the wait. fuck yeah.)

“LOWFRIES” SO YOU’RE TELLING ME THE WHOLE GANG IS HERE, AHHHHHHHH (º̩̩́⌣º̩̩̀ )

BEAUTIFUL. WONDERFUL. SENSATIONAL. I DON’T EVEN CARE THAT JUMP IS ON BREAK NEXT WEEK. THIS RIGHT HERE WILL SUSTAIN ME

#bnha 318 #midoriya izuku #BAKUGOU KATSUKI #!!!!#twowy mctwoface #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bakudeku #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

393 notes · View notes

ickle-ronniekins · 4 years

Text

forever, i choose you

desc: he’s always been everyone’s second choice, in every aspect of his life. george weasley just wants to be someone’s first.

word count: 3.9k

pairing: george weasley x muggle!reader

warning(s): idk you might cry, i sure did but what else is new. loneliness/discussion of sexual content/idk

A/N: i still have no motivation to write and/or read. and it’s the absolute worst. but i wrote the bulk of this story back in december/the beginning of january, and i figured maybe i’d try and write the ending and publish it and see if it’ll spark any inspiration in me. i’m real, real, real sorry if i haven’t gotten to your fics to read (i’ve got them all saved!) i just don’t know what’s wrong with me atm and it’s THE WORST. also it might evoke more emotion if you listen to this while reading this lil fic. thank you, to all of you, for your support and patience, always.

disclaimer: i do not give consent for my work to be posted on ANY other platform.

Seven-year-old George Weasley watched with wide eyes and a goofy grin as his father twirled his mother in the family space of their normally bustling and loud home. But tonight, the Burrow was quiet. Everyone was already sound asleep, his five brothers and his younger sister. George should be too, but he just couldn’t fall asleep no matter how much he tried. He fidgeted uncomfortably in his sheets and kept groaning, and it wasn’t long before his twin brother Fred threw a few pillows at his face, and eventually, George decided to get up and go for a stroll.

He hid strategically on the staircase so his parents wouldn’t see that he was still wide awake at nearly midnight, and he watched as they swayed lightly to the music emitting from somewhere in the house. It was light as a feather, the music, a small piano tune that echoed through the lower level, its sounds traveling effortlessly up the stairs of the home. Mr. Weasley dipped his wife and Mrs. Weasley giggled like some of the young girls George had seen in the village, kind of a nervous giggle, and he watched her blush. He saw his mother placed her head gently on Mr. Weasley’s chest and they both closed their eyes, and George wondered if they were happy to have a moment of peace without their seven children running around causing mayhem.

He wondered if they danced like this every evening, after everyone had already gone to bed.

George noticed a weird sort of feeling in his chest; he wondered why his heart was hurting. Was it because there was something wrong? But then he realized that wasn’t the case, for the aching in his heart came from his pure desire to find exactly what his mum and dad had -- a love like none other, with seven children, a home with multiple stories, and more treacle tarts than one needs.

He vowed in that moment, as he watched his parents from the staircase and tapped his foot quietly in rhythm with the music, that he’d find love like that one day.

He wanted someone to choose him first, just like his parents chose one another.

He brought his hand to his chest, as if to calm his rapidly beating heart, for the sheer idea of finding a love like theirs filled him with such excitement that he was certain he wouldn’t be able to sleep now. Seven-year-old George Weasley laid in bed, ignoring the soft snores from his twin across the room, his eyes wide with wonder as he dreamt of the woman he’d dance with one day.

Twelve-year-old George Weasley wasn’t ready to date. He was only twelve years old! He much preferred to dream.

He knew when he looked at the girl across from him that she wasn’t the one, lovely as she was. He adjusted his Gryffindor tie and cleared his throat and focused on the Potions assignment in front of him. It wasn’t exactly a date, was it? He was in a Potions lesson with his classmates, and Snape. But when the cute blackhaired Hufflepuff approached him and asked if he’d like to work together on the next of Snape’s ridiculous concoctions, Fred poked his brother in the ribs and winked, as if to say, If you don’t partner up with her, you’re a right prat.

And so George did what he thought was gentlemanly and he said yes. He could tell by the rose pink colour that flooded her cheeks that she was smitten with him, and that she’d asked him to be her partner because she was smitten. And he had to admit, she really was quite cute and very, very kind.. and rather smart for her age as well. And he knew that she’d make some man very, very happy someday. It just wouldn’t be him.

He did what was asked of him. He measured out the correct amount of powdered Griffin claw. He made sure he and his partner had enough salamander blood for their strengthening solution. And he smiled back at his partner, though his heart and his mind were still with the girl he’d dance with one day.

The Hufflepuff tried her hardest to capture his heart, but it belonged to someone he had yet to meet.

She wasn’t the one that felt like home.

-- -

Sixteen-year-old George Weasley didn’t understand why all of his classmates wanted to snog people and move onto someone else without so much as a blink.

So many people were pairing off and lasting less than a week before moving onto someone new. George rattled his brain for answers, he searched the eyes of his classmates for explanations, but he couldn’t understand why people would want to hop from one person to another. Didn’t they want to find love, a love that’s long lasting and pushes boundaries and moves mountains and weathers the storms it meets?

But perhaps, he worried, maybe that’s where he was going wrong.

Maybe, in order to find what he truly yearned for, he needed to be reckless and love without really loving.

Maybe he needed to search less, in order to find her.

And so he decided, with much persuasion from Fred, that he’d ask that pretty brunette Ravenclaw to the Yule Ball, and he’d dance and drink firewhisky and maybe he’d even kiss her, if the courage he tried to summon stayed with him throughout the night.

And maybe if he did all those things, he’d forget about the one his heart desperately craved.

And for a little while, he really did forget. Perhaps he could get on board with this “love the one you’re with” mentality. Maybe he could just be in the moment without worrying about everyone else. Maybe he could kiss girls without feeling anything, maybe he could date casually, maybe he could be like everyone else his age and not think about weddings and marriage and having children.

“Georgieee,” the Ravenclaw slurred on the dance floor. She tugged on his tie and pulled him close. He could smell the firewhisky on her breath and his heart began to pound when she pressed her lips lightly to his cheek. “Dance with meeee.”

No, this wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted more than this. He’d always wanted more than this.

George begrudgingly agreed and caught Fred’s eye from across the dance floor. The elder twin threaded his brows together and pushed the air with his hands, as if encouraging his younger brother to go for it. The Ravenclaw dazedly draped her arms across George’s shoulders and he sheepishly looked down toward his feet, but didn’t wrap his arms around her.

“George Weasleeeeyyyy,” she slurred again, hiccoughing in between giggles, “I said dance with meeeeeee.”

He tried to fight it, tried not to think of what he always did, but he couldn’t help it.

This girl was not the one. He could tell, because there was no love in the way she said his name. There was no true feeling in the surplus of kisses she kept pressing to his jawline, and there was no warmth radiating from her -- not the kind that mattered, anyway.

He knew, as he placed his hands gently on her waist and swayed with her to the music, that this was not what love felt like. This is not what home felt like.

He danced anyway, even though it was not the kind of dancing he’d seen his parents do all those years ago, and he allowed himself to think about what the rest of his classmates weren’t -- the person he’d hold in his arms, who’d be the mother to his children, who’s kisses would send him spiraling, who’s embraces would become all too familiar in a way that would comfort him in the darkest of times.

He allowed himself again, to dream of true love.

-- -

Seventeen-year-old George Weasley was sick and tired of waiting for the one.

It sounded kind of dramatic in his own head, seeing as he was only seventeen, but he’d known now for ten years exactly what he was looking for, and ten years seemed like a lifetime.

It didn’t help that nearly all of his friends had gotten over their casual dating scene and were now all enthralled with their significant others. He felt so painfully lonely, though he’d never admit it to a soul. He could hardly admit it to himself.

One evening, he shot up from the couch and out of the common room in a fit of fury, for if he had to see Fred and Angelina snogging in the corner for one more minute, he was quite certain he was going to explode from disgust. He was happy for his brother, of course he was, but he didn’t need to see it. Not as often as that.

He found Ron sitting in the Great Hall with Ginny, Harry, and Hermione and plopped beside them all before engaging in exciting rounds of exploding snap. But as the night grew darker and he grew more tired, George noticed the undeniable chemistry between his sister and Harry and his brother and Hermione. Though they all hadn’t admitted to one another how they felt, George had found it obvious, and he politely excused himself before he tugged his jacket rather angrily around his shoulders before he walked out into the winter storm, just to feel the cold air numb his skin.

He walked out of the castle, over toward the owlery, through the treacherous amounts of snow. Anything to distract George from everyone who’d apparently been hit by Cupid’s bloody arrow.

Ever since he was born, it had always been Fred and George. What about George and Fred? Was it because Fred was older? And why were people always lumping them together? Just because they’re twins? George loathed that. They were individuals too. He was always second, in everything.

In getting hand-me-downs from his older brothers. In being referred to with his twin. In lessons when the professors would call out their names for attendance, because F came before G in the alphabet. And even when it came to love; all the girls always seemed to flock to Fred instead, because he was more exciting. More boisterous. Less shy.

The cold, winter air bit violently at his exposed skin, and he reckoned it hurt less than watching everyone around him find someone that chose them, all while he was still waiting for the right person to choose him.

George Weasley didn’t want to be someone’s second choice.

He wanted to be someone’s first.

-- -

Twenty-year-old George Weasley didn’t know how exactly he ended up here.

He didn’t know how he ended up in a relationship three years deep, without having said “I love you” once and actually meaning it.

George thought he might’ve found her, his person, during his seventh year. She was beautiful and kind and everything he thought he’d hoped and dreamt of. Her soft touch, her yearning eyes, the way she curled up next to him in the dormitories late at night and held onto him as she slept -- it was everything, and it seemed to be perfect.

He thought that maybe, perhaps, she was it. But even so, he found himself waiting, still, for that feeling… the one on the staircase he’d felt so long ago.

But the pain of realizing that she wasn’t who he’d been searching for was more heartbreaking than the pain of him asking her to leave.

He’d been looking at her through rose coloured lenses and had been ignoring the truth that was right in front of him.

He should’ve left years ago, when that Gryffindor girl began to make backhanded jokes about the shop, and his dreams of becoming a business entrepreneur, claiming that she was only joking around.

He should’ve left when that girl showed up late to the grand opening of their shop, nearly a year into their relationship.

He should’ve left when he held her in his arms, and still didn’t feel comfortable beside her.

His heart ached for it, what he’d felt on the staircase at the mere age of seven. And perhaps he’d become so desperate for it, that he took something disguised as true love.

But the truth was that he knew, deep in his soul, that this Gryffindor girl wasn’t the one. He’d just chosen, outright, to ignore it. Perhaps if he could forget that idea that “the one” would smack him square in the face with an overwhelming sensation of knowing, he could have learned to love her, even when he hadn’t had that smack in the face moment when he’d met her all those years ago.

But it hadn’t happened, had it? He hadn’t grown to love her. Not truly, anyway. And she hadn’t grown to love him. Not in the way he wanted to be loved, at least.

Because it was more than just heated kisses and lazy days in bed and all things physical that he wanted.

It was about love. Pure, blinding, unadulterated love.

He stood frozen solid in the middle of his tiny flat and watched as that Gryffindor girl grabbed her coat off of the hanger and raised her hand slightly before slipping silently into the dimly lit hallway for the very last time. And George poured himself a glass of bourbon and sat near the window, looking up at the stars, expecting to feel sad at her departure, but in fact, he didn’t feel sad at all.

He felt hopeful.

He hadn’t found the one yet, but he knew she was out there, getting to him as fast as she possibly could.

Though his brothers had urged him to come to the pub and meet someone else, George didn’t fancy the idea of doing that. He was over that entire scene, just as he was in school when everyone was pairing off and moving on immediately. He didn’t want something fleeting, and he didn’t want something meaningless.

He wanted something true.

-- -

Twenty-three-year old George Weasley was certain that he was never going to find that feeling ever again, for as long as he lived.

While all of his friends were out at the pubs, meeting people and fooling around as if feelings weren’t involved, George was walking aimlessly through the streets to work. He was constantly dealing with the haze above his head, waiting for it to lift. He was turning down girls left and right and ignoring his brothers’ insistence on dating casually again.

He didn’t want to waste any more of his time on people who weren’t going to reach out and trace circles onto his chest in the middle of the night, or who weren’t going to dance around the kitchen in his clothes while cooking dinner, or who weren’t going to look at him with eyes so tender, it would render him useless for days to come.

He’d been waiting sixteen years to find his person, the one who would choose him everyday over everyone else, and in hindsight it didn’t quite seem like a long time. But as he cried silently to himself every few nights in bed, feeling the empty space next to him and yearning for the one who was meant to be there, sixteen years felt like a lifetime.

He thought for a long while, that maybe she was in another country, or maybe she was an auror or something, fighting her way through the monsters of the wizarding world.

He’d thought for a bit that perhaps he just hadn’t met her yet.

But as the days dragged on and he found himself lost in crowds, searching face after face, looking for hers, he truly felt as though all hope was lost.

And so George paced back and forth in the kitchen of his flat, biting at his nails and pouring himself hefty glasses of wine, keen on ignoring everyone’s attempts at getting him to come out.

Maybe this was what he deserved.

Maybe because he wasn’t out there, sleeping with people whose names he wouldn’t remember come morning like everyone else, he was just going to be alone.

Maybe there really wasn’t someone out there for him. Maybe not everyone finds true love. Maybe his parents had just gotten lucky.

The dull ache in George’s heart grew stronger, and for the upteenth night in a row, he laid in bed and gripped the covers and cried himself to sleep, his tears sliding down his cheeks the same way the evening rain slid down the window terrace.

-- -

Twenty-four-year old George Weasley stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he felt it.

That feeling. The one from the staircase as he watched his parents dance, all those years ago.

Heart pounding, chest rising, hands freezing.

It hit him square in the chest without warning, nearly knocking him over though his feet were rooted into the ground at the spot, smack dab in the middle of that cafe in the middle of London.

Someone was playing a slow, soft piano tune coming from the other end. People were filtering in and out, asking the man in front of them what exactly he was staring at and why he wasn’t moving. But George Weasley stood where he was, not taking his eyes off of you.

You were reading furiously, flipping through pages of a book gripped tightly in your hands, as though you couldn’t devour the plot fast enough. George watched with admiration as a gentle smile tugged at your lips, as your eyes scanned the words quickly, as you tapped your foot on the ground, in rhythm with that slow piano.

He watched with dazed eyes and parted lips as you finished the end of your book. You dabbed your eyes with a tissue and clutched the book tightly to your chest, overwhelmed, clearly, by the end of the plot. George’s heart soared so high at your passion that he found himself struggling to hold back the I love you that was pressing behind his lips.

You immediately took a long sip of your tea and placed your finished book back into your bag, only to pull out another and immediately immerse yourself in the next story. George laughed to himself, stunned that you were so intent on falling into someone else’s storyline, if only for a little while, that you hadn’t dared take a break from one book to the next. You merely jumped right in.

He wondered if his overwhelming feelings called out to you like a signal of sorts, because just as he was working up the courage to walk over to you, you looked up. You searched the room for a moment before meeting his gaze and suddenly, the world around you both stopped.

George found himself wanting to know everything about you. He itched to devour up any and all information you’d be so kind to provide to him -- your name, your favorite color, your birthday. He wanted to know what book you’d just been reading, and what about it had moved you so much to the point of tears. He wanted to know everything, but deep in his soul, he also knew that he’d have years to learn it all.

In fact, he’d have the rest of forever.

Your eyes went soft and George began to feel the steady pounding of his heart increase, and to his amazement, he noticed a gentle smile tug at the edges of your lips.

And he smiled back.

He’d been right all along. That feeling of finding the one would smack him square in the face. He wondered, as he peered at you now, biting down on your bottom lip and looking toward the ground, why he’d ever doubted himself in the first place. And he wondered when you looked back up at him once again and raised a hand to say hello, if you’d been smacked in the face with that feeling too, just like he had.

He resisted the urge to pour his heart out to you, right here and right now. He’d have time.

Perhaps today was just about having today, and recognizing that you were everything he’d been looking for since that evening on the staircase.

He’d tell you this one day.

-- -

“And what does… Lumox mean again?”

George laughed and squeezed your hands. “You mean, Lumos?”

You bit your lip in embarrassment and laughed, too. “Yes! Lumos. That’s the one that produces light, right?”

George brought your hands to his lips and kissed them gently. You two were seated inside a bustling restaurant in Diagon Alley, and he wondered if people passing by realized just how cozy you two looked together. “You’re more brilliant than most witches I know.”

You cocked your head to the side with an air of confidence and batted your eyelashes at him. “What can I say, Georgie? I may have been born a… Mugglie… but maybe I was meant to be a witch.”

George had to bite down on his lip to keep from laughing. He couldn’t get over how painfully adorable you were as you attempted to pronounce these wizarding words and learn spells and charms and things as he taught you all things about the wizarding world. You took his wand and pointed it at your wine glass, pretending to transfigure it. You couldn’t, of course, since you weren’t a magical being. But George didn’t mind. He could watch you pretend all day long.

In all his years of studying magic, he’d never felt anything quite like this.

BONUS, just because i hate feeling sad asf:

Thirty-two-year old George Weasley rocked his redheaded daughter back and forth in his arms, until he was certain that she was sound asleep again -- her mouth open wide as she began to snore softly when he placed her back into her crib.

He peered up at the clock on the wall and blinked a few times before 4:32 a.m. came into focus. Exhausted, he made his way back into his room before sliding into bed.

And there it was again. That feeling.

You turned over in bed to face him, squinting in the darkness as your eyes adjusted to the scene unfolding before you. Groggily, you reached out and traced your fingers across his jawline. His heart nearly stopped. “Is she alright?” you asked sleepily.

George grinned softly and leant forward before pressing a kiss to your forehead. He whispered, “She’s alright. Go back to sleep.”

Though your eyes were already shut, you reached out again and took his hand in yours before bringing your lips gently to his fingers. “Okay.. I love you.. G’night..”

But you were asleep again before George could respond, so instead he pulled you closely to him and began to gently trace circles on your bare shoulders. He breathed in the smell of your shampoo, and listened intently for the beating of your heart that had fallen into sync with his.

Tears pushed at the edges of his eyes, but he slowed his breathing and reminded himself, again, that there was no longer an empty space beside him in bed.

Maybe he shouldn’t have ever given up hope, but perhaps giving up hope was what made finding you so much sweeter.

If only he could tell seven-year-old George what he’d find when the time was right.

And in the darkness, as the rain pattered on the rooftop of his house and he felt your embrace tighten around his body, he whispered into the silence, “I love you, too.”

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @acciotwinz @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @highly-acidic @90shermione @zreads @holland-parkers @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @awritingtree @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyinhserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley @alwaysasadaesthetic @thisismysketchbook @izzytheninja @imboredandneedalife @hemmoporro @valwritesx @heavenlymidnight @hannolannno @msmimimerton @oh-for-merlins-sake @hufflepuff5972 @pigwidgexn @sarcasticallywitty15 @breadqueen95 @teawiththeweasleys @pit-and-the-pen @phuvioqhile @vogueweasley @hufflrpuffforfred @harrypotter289 @lovefromrosie | message me if you’d like to be added or removed or have changed your URL so i can update!

#george weasley #fred weasley #fred and george weasley #weasley twins #george weasley x reader #george weasley reader insert #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagine #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #george weasley imagines #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

903 notes · View notes

heyiwrotesomethings · 3 years

Text

Research

Ririka Momobami x She/Her Reader (feat. Kirari being a nuisance)

A/N: Ririka’s relationship leaves Kirari feeling a bit envious and curious. Never a good combination. I think Kakegurui Kari ruined me from ever characterizing Kirari in a proper way. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy! Word Count: 3,456 (what are the odds?!)

“Ririka, how is it that you and (Y/n) are already in the hand holding stage of your relationship?” Kirari had asked out of the blue at dinner whilst swirling her drink, watching the liquid spin around.

Ririka recognized that look in her sister’s eyes. It was a dangerous one, boredom. And if there was one thing the older twin knew about how her sister dealt with boredom, it was to stand back as far as possible and disappear into the background. She couldn’t not answer Kirari though, that would just pique her interest even further. So, Ririka assumed the best disinterested face she could muster and answered her sister’s odd query.

“(Y/n) brushed her hand against mine one day when we were walking in the school forest. We looked at each other and we just sort of gravitated towards each other. Now it’s just something we do.” Ririka shrugged before savoring the last bite of her meal. Unfortunately her answer did not yield the desired effect as Kirari leaned forward a bit in her chair, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“So you’ve communicated your intentions telepathically. How does one go about achieving that in a relationship?”

Ririka swallowed, wishing she could have chewed just a bit longer on the delicious morsel. “Not at all. We just... read each other’s cues.”

“So it’s like gambling?” Kirari asked, intrigued.

“In a way, I suppose.” Ririka said. She didn’t think so, but if there was one thing her fish brained sister understood, it was gambling. It was just about the only reference she understood besides those related to outer space, baseball and the ocean so naturally, she applied it to everything.

“Hmm, I see.”

Ririka had a moment when she thought Kirari was satisfied and was about to excuse herself to her room. Unfortunately, Kirari wasn’t quite done with her yet.

“So will you use the same method when you share your first kiss as well?”

Ririka fumbled with the silverware before she could place it back on the table. A fatal mistake in the presence of her twin.

“You’ve already kissed then? My, Ririka, you’ve only been together a couple of months. Aren’t you moving a little too fast?” Kirari asked, an amused and all knowing smile pulled at her blue stained lips.

“I assure you my relationship is moving at a normal pace. (Y/n) has been wonderful and hasn’t pushed me into anything before I was ready.”

“Is (Y/n) often the one to make the first move then?”

“If you must know, she is. She has more experience than me when it comes to these things.” Ririka answered, eyeing the grand clock none too discreetly. She hoped Kirari would lose interest soon.

“I see, more experience then.” Kirari nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Ririka sighed, “If you won’t be needing anything else, then I’m going to my room.”

“There was one thing.” Kirari spoke, pausing Ririka in her tracks. “I will be needing the mask for tomorrow. There is something I must observe.”

“Very well.” Ririka answered plainly. She knew if she turned the questions back on her sister she’d be met with riddles and she was too tired to decipher them tonight. Ririka leaned over the large table and set her mask in front of her sister. “Good night.”

“Good night.” Kirari grinned, pulling the mask up to her face just enough to cover her chilling smile. It was an action that was completely performative, that much Ririka knew. If only she could understand just what her sister was up to.

Ririka simply continued on her way, getting ready for bed in her en-suite bathroom before falling into bed and wrapping herself up like a burrito. She reached her arm out for her phone and pulled it into her cocoon, smiling as she read (Y/n)’s goodnight text. She sent one of her own and was about to put her phone back on her charger when she remembered she wasn’t going to be herself tomorrow and frowned. She messaged (Y/n) again to fill her in on the switch as she usually did when they came up. It was something she really felt compelled to do after she and (Y/n) started dating. The last thing Ririka needed was for Kirari to upset (Y/n) while masquerading around as herself. With her message sent, Ririka put her phone back on her nightstand and curled further into her burrow of blankets.

***

(Y/n) walked through the main gates of Haykkaou Academy the next morning, breezing right past the students loitering around, not quite ready to enter the property for one reason or another. Usually Ririka would be waiting nearby, but sadly this was not going to be one of those days.

(Y/n) decided she’d head right into the school and do some work at her desk or maybe gamble with her classmates if they were paying something that caught her interest. She had just finished switching her shoes at her cubby when another pair of feet stopped right beside her.

Craning her head, (Y/n) was very surprised to see a familiar theatre mask smiling down at her. A sight that she had grown used to over the past couple months she had been dating Ririka. (Y/n) stood up, confused but no less delighted by her girlfriend’s sudden appearance.

“Hey! I thought you said you were busy today.” (Y/n) said.

“...” Only a small crackle of static as Ririka took a breath reached (Y/n)’s ears.

“What’s up, is your sister driving you crazy again this morning? Is that why you’re here and not in the council room?” (Y/n) asked, closing her shoe cubby. She knew Ririka wasn’t much of a conversationalist so she wasn’t particularly bothered by the silence, but a, ‘good morning’ would be nice at the very least.

She did not receive a greeting, just a blank stare through the black holes of the mask.

“Well, I was going to go to our classroom and hang out until class started, but if you’d rather go somewhere more quiet we can do that too, what do you think?” (Y/n) asked.

“Let’s do what we normally do together in the morning.” The distorted voice replied. Not that (Y/n) could know for sure, but it almost sounded commanding.

“...Okay then. I’ll just have to change my shoes again real quick.”

(Y/n) changed her shoes and started walking back to the courtyard, pausing momentarily to give Ririka a questioning look as the masked girl watched her move.

“Ririka, are you doing alright?” (Y/n) asked. She felt like she was playing twenty questions without getting any hints.

Ririka tilted her head just slightly before falling into step beside (Y/n). Her knuckles brushed (Y/n)’s hand and made the other girl stare at her oddly from her peripheral but other than that, they continued through the students coming into the school as they left. Ririka was intermittently bumping hands with (Y/n)’s in the process until she surprised (Y/n) by taking her hand completely.

Ririka hardly ever was the first to initiate contact, much less when other students were around to witness it. Even when the president had happened upon them, Ririka would get flustered and shrink away. Now here they were in front of the school’s main entrance surrounded by students, and Ririka had scooped up her hand and laced their fingers like it was nothing. Her hand wasn’t even clammy or shaking at all. Needless to say (Y/n) felt that something was off with Ririka today. In fact, she would bet big money that the person holding her hand right now wasn’t Ririka at all!

(Y/n) knew about the twins tendency to switch off whenever Kirari deemed it necessary, but never had the president bothered with (Y/n) while pretending to be Ririka. Just what was the president doing? (Y/n) decided she’d play along for now, to hold her cards close to her chest until she figured out Kirari’s game. (Y/n) doubled down, curling her fingers over the incessant imposter’s hand.

Once they arrived at their destination, a secluded part of the school forest away from the noisy courtyard, (Y/n) assumed her usual position sitting with her back against a grand old tree. Testing Kirari, she patted the free space between her legs, intending for the president to sit with her back to (Y/n)’s front. Then they could listen to the songs of the forest as (Y/n) normally would with Ririka. Speaking of which, (Y/n) was going to have to apologize for showing Kirari their secret spot. Honestly, Ririka would probably not be too pleased about any of this situation but (Y/n) just had to find out why the president was doing this.

The masked figure loomed above (Y/n) for a moment before beginning her decent, but to (Y/n)’s shock, the other girl took the cue as a signal to straddle her so they were both facing each other. Years of gambling helped (Y/n) hide her horror well, as she smiled the fakest smile to ever exist. Just who the hell did the president think she was? Well, she was trying to be Ririka, but was failing miserably.

Swallowing her urge to lash out at the younger of the Momobami twins, (Y/n) continued to pretend nothing was wrong and continued her reconnaissance, resting her hands over Kirari’s thighs.

“Anything on your mind, Ri? Do you need something?” (Y/n) asked, feeling proud of how smooth and unassuming her voice sounded.

Another crackle of air and a tilt of the head was the only reply (Y/n) received. Really, it was like Kirari didn’t know how to be Ririka at all beyond the mysterious vice president. When Ririka took on Kirari’s role, she did so extremely well. It kind of scared (Y/n) how well Ririka could impersonate her twin. The same could not be said for Kirari. She didn’t seem to know how to act like Ririka at all. At least, not in this instance.

It was a bit infuriating really, to think Kirari actually thought she was getting away with her little charade while putting in so little effort. (Y/n) was about to tell Kirari to get off of her when a hand reached up between them and pulled at the mask, slowly lowering it to hover just above the president’s nose.

Perhaps she wasn’t too bad after all. Downcast eyes, timid yet deliberate movements, even the faint flush of her cheeks seemed legitimate and for a second (Y/n) almost believed her. Almost. But the amusement that seemed to be ever present in the younger twin’s eyes could only hide so deep in crystal blue irises.

“I need you. Show me, show me how you take charge.” The twin’s voice whispered, taking in the cadence of her sister with frightening precision. Yes, the tone was good but the words were so wrong. Ririka would sooner shoot herself in the foot than say something she would consider so embarrassing.

Just what the hell was this girl after? What was she gaining from this torment? Was this some kind of gamble and depending on (Y/n)’s reaction, could be someone’s undoing? What was the right move to make?

“(Y/n), please. Kiss me like we’re doing it for the first time again.”

“What the hell?” (Y/n) couldn’t keep it in anymore, if someone was losing a bet right now she was sorry, but she could only handle so much ridiculousness. “What game are you playing, president?”

(Y/n) tried to wiggle out from underneath Kirari but she held firm, the facade she had put up melted quickly as she allowed the mask to drop on the ground beside them and pushed (Y/n)’s back firmly against the tree trunk with one hand as she grinned down at her fellow classmate. The effect wasn’t quite the same without the striking blue lipstick but it was still enough to make (Y/n) shiver.

“So you did figure it out. I was wondering why you would be holding out on me. I was beginning to think my dear sister was wrong about you.” Kirari mused, eyes glinting. “The only other person that can tell us apart is Sayaka, what gave me away?”

“First, get off of me.” (Y/n) said, making a shooing motion between them that made Kirari giggle as she stood up. “Second, you have to tell me what your goal was in all of this.”

“My goal hmm?” Kirari tapped her chin thoughtfully as (Y/n) got up from the ground as well. “Well, quite simply it was for research.”

“Research about what?”

“About your relationship with my sister.” Kirari answered.

Like that made anything any clearer. (Y/n) pressed a hand over her forehead, the other a firm fist against her hip, “but why?” She asked.

“I think I’m entitled to having my curiosity sated now.” Kirari said instead, looking over her plain, pale nails.

(Y/n) pushed an audible huff of air through her nose, choosing to cross her arms tightly over her chest instead and even going as far as to tap her shoe against ground. Kirari actually rolled her eyes at the display, an action the president wouldn’t give the general masses the pleasure of seeing lest she appear too human.

“I just don’t understand how you and Ririka have only been together for three months and you’re already holding hands and kissing when I’ve been with Sayaka for nearly two years and we have done neither. Ririka said you were the more experienced one, I thought I could learn something from observing you.”

“Wait, you and Igarashi are actually together?” (Y/n) couldn’t believe her ears. Igarashi obviously worshipped the ground Kirari walked on but (Y/n) had always found it hard to understand if Kirari was just stringing her along or not.

“Of course we are. I didn’t build that tower for just anyone.”

Ah yes, Ririka had told (Y/n) about the tower. What lunacy. She would be surprised if Igarashi truly understood what Kirari was going for there.

“Did you actually ask Igarashi to date you point blank or did you just imply it? You should know how her mind works by now.”

“But I don’t. That’s what makes her so spectacular.” Kirari sighed pleasantly.

“Well trust me, if you make your intentions absolutely clear I’m sure you’ll see some changes in your dynamic. Tell you what, let’s go to the student council room and sort this all out now before classes start.”

“Are you hoping for a seat on the council? Is that why you want to get involved?” Kirari smirked.

“I’m just trying to help my girlfriend’s sister so she doesn’t pretend to be her in my presence ever again.” (Y/n) shook her head and started to walk back to the school. She took out her phone and texted Ririka to let her know they were en route, “and I knew it was you because Ririka doesn’t act like that with me. I will not elaborate because the last thing I need is for you to get anymore funny ideas.”

Kirari hummed with amusement before placing the mask back over her face and together they made their way back to the school and up to the council room. Thankfully Ririka must have been able to end the meeting early because only she and Sayaka were left in the room.

“Oh thank god,” (Y/n) sighed walking over to Ririka’s side to rest her forehead against the older twin’s shoulder, making her blush and ruining the carefully crafted persona of her younger sister.

“What are you doing?” Sayaka said indignantly. “You can’t just come in here whenever you wish. Anyone with council business could come in and think you were involved with the president instead of the vice president!”

“Sit down Igarashi, I’m about to do you the biggest favor of your life.” (Y/n) said, lifting her head from Ririka’s shoulder to point at Kirari as she removed the theatre mask and placed in on the table. “Kirari wants to date you.”

Sayaka blinked, processing the words before her skin turned beet red, equal parts embarrassed and angry.

“That’s not funny, Senpai!”

“It’s not a joke! C’mon Kirari, tell her.” (Y/n) said before cupping Ririka’s ear to whisper, “If this doesn’t work out, I’m gonna scream.”

“It’s true Sayaka, though (Y/n)’s approach seems dull and predictable, it has come to my attention that you may not understand that I wish to be with you,” Kirari glided forward, her hair flowing behind her like a curtain, her hand outstretched to Sayaka, “so, hold my hand Say-a-ka, and be mine.”

“Uh oh.” (Y/n) and Ririka muttered in unison as Sayaka babbled, her head moving jerkily between Kirari’s face and her outstretched hand before her knees buckled. She almost hit the ground but Kirari caught her just in time, grinning down at her secretary.

“I told her to sit down.” (Y/n) said, shaking her head.

“It appears that Sayaka needs a nap. You two can head to class, I’ll watch over her.” Kirari said, placing the unconscious secretary on the couch.

“Sure, you just want an excuse to stay out of class.” (Y/n) turned her attention back to Ririka, still in her sister’s make up, braids and annoying ruffled shirt. “Come on Ririka, let me help you get changed real quick.”

“Okay.”

Ririka grabbed her mask from the table and together they headed to one of the side rooms off of the main council room where the twins kept their spare uniforms. While (Y/n) helped Ririka gather her belongings and remove the fresh blue nail polish and smooth out her hair, she told Ririka all about Kirari’s invasive behavior.

“So yeah, it was super weird but I guess it was worth it if it means she’ll be too busy with Sayaka to be too interested in what we’re doing.” (Y/n) explained, brushing Ririka’s hair into place. On the last stroke, she reached in front of Ririka to put the brush back on the table and as she went to withdraw, her wrist was gently encased in Ririka’s hand.

“Ri?”

Ririka tugged on (Y/n)’s arm until she sat down on the bench beside her. It took (Y/n) everything she had not to giggle once she registered the sweet pout the older twin was sporting.

“You held hands with my sister,” Ririka grumped, “you held hands with my sister and let her sit in your lap.”

“Yes, very begrudgingly I did. Only because I wanted to know what she was trying to do, but I promise it’ll never happen again.” (Y/n) spoke seriously.

“Good.” Ririka sighed, resting her head on (Y/n)’s chest, making her laugh.

“We can’t stay here all day. We have about fifteen minutes before we have to get to our classroom and you still haven’t changed your blazer and shirt.”

Ririka whined quietly before tilting her head up to look at (Y/n). “May we, first could you,” Ririka bashfully tapped her lips, still stained with blue, “you know.”

“Happy to,” (Y/n) tucked a strand of Ririka’s hair behind her ear, “let me just wipe that lipstick off first.”

Softly but thoroughly, (Y/n) ran the cleansing wipe across Ririka’s lips a few times until all that remained was muted pink. Then she dabbed at them with a wet washcloth so no trace of the bitter tasting makeup remover remained. As soon as she removed the cloth she leaned in, meeting Ririka lips with her own.

(Y/n) pulled away after a moment, a smile splitting her lips upon witnessing the relaxed and dreamy look on Ririka’s face, her cheeks dusted in a pleasant pink color that complimented her bare lips.

“I’ll wait for you to finish changing and we’ll walk to class together, okay?” (Y/n) said softly.

“One more first, please.” Ririka asked, pulling (Y/n)’s blazer to bring the girl closer.

“Of course.”

Another kiss and the fifteen minute buffer before class became eight minutes and they had three floors worth of stairs to climb. (Y/n) waited for Ririka to finish changing in the hall. She would have waited in the main area of the council room, but Kirari was sitting on the council room couch with that little smirk on her face. Her calculating eyes watching (Y/n) move across the room as the president patted Sayaka’s hair while the secretary remained unconscious with her head in Kirari’s lap.

When Ririka emerged, mask set into place, (Y/n) looked down both ends of the empty hall. When she was satisfied that no one was around, she pulled the mask to the side, surprising Ririka and making the vice president’s breath hitch.

“What?” Ririka asked.

“Just making sure.” (Y/n) replied, kissing Ririka’s nose before covering Ririka’s glowing face with the mask once more.

(Y/n) took Ririka’s hand and they jogged up the stairs, managing to slide into the classroom moments before the teacher.

#kakegurui x reader #kakegurui oneshots #ririka momobami #ririka momobami x reader #ririka x reader

355 notes · View notes

youbloodymadgenius · 3 years

Text

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 1

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite, who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310, @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria. Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 1806

Additional note: I'm afraid I'll disappoint some of you. No more newspapers... The articles defined the setting of the story. From now on, it'll be a regular fic.

Hope you enjoy it nevertheless 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

June 2021

Ivar yawns, rubbing his eyes, when he suddenly hears the front door open. The next moment, Ubbe shouts, "Hey baby bro, we're home!"

Slightly confused, Ivar looks at the time on his computer. Stunned, he blinks repeatedly, shakes his head and checks the time again, now looking at his watch. "Guess I lost track of time," he mumbles as he realizes it's really 5:30 pm. He clears his throat. "I'm coming!"

Yawning once more, he wheels to the kitchen. Hvitserk waves at him with one hand as Ubbe greets him with a grin and Sigurd... Well, Sigurd ignores him, as usual.

"Hello boys!" Lagertha smiles as she also enters the kitchen. "Did you go to the beach this afternoon?" It's a rethorical question, since sand can be seen on the tanned skin of his brothers, shirtless and wearing only swimming shorts.

When she looks down at him, her smile becomes softer. "Ivar, you seem tired. Did you work all day long?"

He nods, glad that for once she called him by his first name and not by one of those stupid nicknames that she likes but that make his skin crawl.

"Yep," he shrugs without smiling back, "I made good progress. The new version of your website is almost done. It could probably be online by the end of the week."

His stepmom flashes him a beaming smile. "Great, thanks!"

The conversation then moves on to the subject that everyone in Kattegat has been talking about for the last few days: the midsummer party thrown by their neighbor Harald Hårfager. Every June, it is Kattegat's not-to-be-missed event, to which every resident hopes to be invited.

Lagertha is invited every year, yet rarely attends; his brothers wouldn't miss it, not in a million years; Ivar never went.

He listens with half an ear as his brothers prattle on about the upcoming party, while taking a seat at the large, wooden kitchen table on which Lagertha has just put cakes and drinks.

"What are you going to wear?"

"Do you think Marit will attend this year?"

"Hopefully the music will be better than last year."

"Can't be as bad! What was the name of that reggae band?"

For a fleeting moment, Ivar entertains the thought of attending as well. Not that he's dying to, but… Sometimes, he feels a little bit like Cinderella in this house.

Don't get him wrong, it's not that bad.

First, his stepmom is not–

Wait, wait, wait, is Lagertha technically his stepmom? He's not sure. After all, she wasn't when his parents were alive, she was just his father's first wife. Anyway, she may be his guardian now, but he sees her as his stepmom and he honestly doesn’t give a shit if it's a little weird.

Where was he? Oh yes, Cinderella.

So obviously, Lagertha is not a wicked, haughty and abusive stepmom like this Lady Tremaine of the fairytale.

Actually, even if it pisses him off to admit it, she's pretty nice, patient and composed. Does he love her? Let's not exaggerate – he doesn't. She may love him though, which is a little bit uncanny, if he's being honest. He was the favorite son of her nemesis. Shouldn't she hate him? He would, if the situation was reversed.

The truth is, when he was younger, he tried, he really tried to hate her, blaming her for everything and anything. When too much pain prevented him from sleeping, he let his imagination run wild. There, bound to his bed of suffering, he could see Lagertha cutting the brakes on his mother's car, causing her crash, causing her death.

Of course, even then, he knew deep down that Lagertha had not killed his mother; that the story he told himself was just the product of his endless nights of insomnia. But what can he say? He needed this. Because blaming Lagertha rather than admitting that his beloved mother was at fault – by being distracted, or by falling asleep, he'll never know – was easier for the heartbroken boy he was.

Anyway... So yes, Lagertha is definitely not an evil stepmother like Cinderella's.

Also, he doesn't sleep on a sorry garret, on a wretched straw bed either.

Actually, he has a very large room on the main floor, with a king-size memory foam bed, a walk-in – well, a wheel-in for his case – closet and his own, huge bathroom, fully equipped for his special needs.

Sure, the bathroom and the dressing room were already there when his parents were alive; however, the memory foam mattress had been Lagertha's idea.

Anyway... So yes, he can't exactly complain about his sleeping conditions, unlike Cinderella.

And obviously, he's not forced into servitude.

Actually, one might think so, but no, he's not. Sure, sometimes he works for his stepmom, like today. But so do his brothers. When she had taken them in, she was a powerful businesswoman, working twelve to fourteen hours a day. Once she had become their guardian, she had rearranged her working time and learned to delegate; but even so, she had often run out of time. Therefore, it had seemed normal to them – yes, even to him – to help her out, each of them according to their skills and abilities.

So, while Hvitserk almost always does the grocery shopping, while Sigurd vacuums and does the laundry, while Ubbe mows the lawn and trim the bushes, he, Ivar, runs her company's website and sometimes even does the accounting. And since he loves computers and numbers, it's not exactly a problem.

Anyway... So yes, he's not a slave in this house. Unlike Cinderella.

So, yes, to sum it up, he can't really complain and he's by far not Cinderella. And he knows it.

But... Yes, there's a but...

Sometimes, he feels trapped, as poor Cinderella must have felt.

Sometimes he feels like a spectator of a life he doesn't belong to.

Sure, he doesn't have to be homeschooled – but gods, he's glad he is. The reasons for him to be continuously bullied by classmates are endless. The simplest ones being: he is a cripple, an orphan, the son of a dead mob boss, the smartest one in the whole damn school, let alone his class. Take your pick. It's no fun, no fun at all. Being home alone is preferable to that alternative.

Therefore, barely leaving the house except for medical appointments, he has no friends. He doesn't do sports either – obviously – and yeah, he lives a lonely life, filled with video games and Netflix series. And he's okay with that. Well, most of the time.

Sure, his brothers, or at least Ubbe and Hvitserk, always try to include him as much as possible. But the truth is that because of his legs, there are many, many things he just can't do.

And the other truth, the less pleasant one, is that he partially did that to himself. He cut himself off from a world that hurt him, yet he still misses this world sometimes. At times, he blames himself. Because his life, honestly, is hardly what you would call a life, is it? Not when you're sixteen.

That's why sometimes, like now, he feels this longing, almost a need, to live. To really, truly, fully live. And that's why, for a brief moment, lulled by the light chitchat of his brothers, he considers attending Harald's midsummer party.

But he knows better. This life is not for him, never has been, never will be.

And so, shaking his head, he chases the thought away and, placing his hands on his push rims, he's about to leave the kitchen while the incessant babbling of his brothers goes on.

"I can't wait."

"Don't tell me! As every year, the most beautiful girls of Kattegat will be there."

"Remember that burger food truck? Best burgers ever!"

"I've heard Y/N would be attending this year."

"There'll be booze and girls! Sounds like Valh–"

Wait. His mind goes blank.

Fuck.

What? Did he hear right?

As he replays his brother's words in his head, it's like there's an earthquake happening inside of him.

Fuck.

He stops breathing. Blinks, then clamps his eyes shut.

Fuck.

When he finally manages to draw air into his lungs, he swallows loudly before asking in a weird, high-pitched voice, his heart pounding in his chest, "What– What did you say, brother?"

Hvitserk turns his head toward him and shrugs. "I just said there'll be boo–"

"No, not you!" Ivar snaps at his brother, pointing his pointer finger at Ubbe. "You, what did you fucking say?" Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Lagertha frowning – 'no curse words in this house, boys'– and even if he barely contains an eye roll, he still mouths a quick 'sorry' at her before rewording his question, impatience coursing through him. "What did you say, dear brother? Who did you say would attend?"

Stunned, Ubbe looks at him with wide eyes. "Y/N? I said Y/N would come. That's what I heard anyway. She's Harald's niece. She was here once, right? Remember her, baby bro, huh?"

But Ivar is no longer listening, the blood draining from his face. Y/N... Y/N... Fuck. Finally. Fucking finally. After so long... He may see you again. Wow.

I'll go! I'll fucking go!

He barely contains the words, suddenly acutely aware of the deafening silence in the room, his brothers shamelessly staring at him.

With her brows furrowed and her lips turned downward in a slight frown, Lagertha takes two steps forwards before crouching down in front of him. "Are you all right, sweetie? You're a little pale."

He barely hears when Sigurd giggles, "A little pale? He's greener than an alien!"

Lagertha shoots Sigurd a dirty look and then gently cups Ivar's cheek. "Do you know her, Ivar? Do you know Y/N?"

Overwhelmed, self-conscious, freaked out, caught off-guard, he doesn't know how to respond. Should he tell the truth? Should he lie? His brothers will mock him, for sure. What is the point of telling the truth? What good would it do? On the other hand, he could really use some advice. Yeah. Sure. Advice from Sigurd. Just the thought of it is enough to make him sick. Fuck, what is he going to do?

Rushed words are out of his mouth before he can even gather his thoughts. "No. No. I don't. I mean, yes, I think I do but–" He's being pathetic and he hates it. So after a sharp intake of breath, he shakes his head and eventually replies in a flat, calm voice, the white lie rolling off his tongue. "I know her, but I thought Ubbe was talking about someone else. Sorry."

With these words, he hastily leaves the room, his eyes riveted on his knees, his heart still drumming in his chest.

Y/N. Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar's taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings

#ivar #modern ivar #modern!ivar #modern-ivar #modern ivar x reader #modern!ivar x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar imagine #ivar fic #ivar fanfic #ivar fanfiction #ivar vikings #vikings ivar #cherrypie’s500 #fairytale retelling #ivarello

122 notes · View notes