#i remember feeling the sense of being grounded slowly fade away throughout middle school

[maudiemoods]

I hate being sick but I also don't mind it because I'm never truly grounded unless I'm sick. Idk most of the time I feel like I'm watching my life behind a screen but when I'm super sick I get to feel the air and see things really clear

[olivinesea]

Off Souls

a/n: Today we’re college Emily and we are sad. Tried for some plot this time though it doesn’t really appear til the end. Actual tw substances (lots of drinking), tw rape (not descriptive). I have a thought on continuing this but we’ll see. ~4.3k

Sorry Emily.

Emily Prentiss had her first drink was when she was eight years old. Someone handed her a half-glass of champagne as the clock counted down to midnight and a new year arrived. She wasn’t sure she liked the sharp, sour flavor but the bubbles tickled her nose. She also liked holding the pretty glass delicately between her thumb and middle finger, imitating the guests in their bright, shiny fabrics. No one noticed as she crept around the party, seeking out abandoned champagne flutes. She picked each one up, practicing a fake laugh and gesturing to invisible companions. Each imaginary conversation ended with her tilting her head back and draining the glass.

She noticed that the champagne was getting flatter but also that the taste was improving as she worked through the rooms of the ambassador’s residence. She was too young for anyone to pay attention to, the adults were wrapped up in their own affairs and feelings of excitement. Her body grew heavier and she thought she might like to sit down for awhile. She didn't know what time it was or whether it was the new year yet. She climbed onto a bench pushed against the wall. It had become a home for abandoned coats and bags.

It was hard to understand what she was seeing, objects seemed to be trying to escape. She looked at something only for it to slide away. She refocused, telling herself tables didn’t move on their own, only to have the thing slip away again. She tried closing one eye, then the other. The ground seemed to tip which didn’t make sense but maybe explained the moving furniture. She sank down onto one side, the back of her hand pressed against her mouth. Maybe being sideways would help correct the tilt of the world. It didn’t change much and she let her eyes close completely. Even with her eyes closed, the world continued to spin unpleasantly. She whimpered, weakly calling for her mother, already faintly aware that she wouldn’t appear.

Her face felt hot and she worried she might roll off the bench. Too tired to go far, she got down and pressed herself into the space underneath. Closed off from the world in most directions, she felt a little steadier. She tucked her face into the bend of her elbow to block out the remaining light. Her free hand found its way to her mouth again. She was too old to suck her thumb but it was still comforting to feel the pressure there. She found herself biting the skin around her nail beds. The acute sensation tethered her to the earth and the disturbing spinning slowed. She didn’t notice when she fell asleep.

No one found her there and it was light outside when she finally woke up. Cold and stiff from sleeping on the floorboards, she slowly slid out from under the bench. Moving carefully towards her room she tried to listen for sounds of other people in the hallways. She was afraid her mother would scold her for ruining her dress. She needn’t have worried. She threw the dress, now ripped and stained, into the trash in an effort to hide it. No one noticed that either.

By the time she entered high school, she considered herself an expert at drinking. She knew which alcohols were the easiest to mix. She knew which bottles would be noticed if they went missing (only the wines). She could forge her mother’s signature to get out of class when the afternoon looked a little too long. She could even mimic the housekeeper’s accent when the school called to confirm that she was out on an excused absence. In a fit of inspiration, she had substituted her number for her mother’s on all her school forms. That move had paid dividends over the years.

Every weekend she either had a party or went to a party. She didn’t see that as a problem. Drinking socially was fine. Maybe a little questionable at 15, but fine. The drinking that she secretly knew was wrong but continued anyway was the kind where she added gin to bottles of sparkling water and drank it throughout the day. It stung the back of her throat but she came to associate that feeling with a pleasant detachment. She could ignore her mother’s criticisms with the buzz of gin in her ears. She could ignore how lonely she felt when wrapped up in the warmth of the friendly bubbles.

She went through high school becoming more and more attached to alcohol. There were other things to try, different drugs filtered through the prep school community. She didn’t mind them but she always returned to drinking. Drinking was familiar. Drinking made her comfortable. She didn’t see any reason to mess with a good thing. She never noticed how her mood swung in tandem with her access to alcohol. She never noticed how she drank more after fighting with her mother. For her, drinking and feelings were separate. Feelings were messy and embarrassing. Drinking conquered feelings and she wanted nothing more than to conquer those permanently.

~~~

By the time she met Aaron Hotchner, she couldn't remember the last time she went more than a few days without a drink. Sobriety was a state to escape from. Sobriety meant clear thoughts and clear thoughts meant the harsh, criticizing voice in her mind reminding her of all her failures. Better to drown than to listen to that. Her grades might have been slipping but she’d have to feel to care and she was in the business of not feeling. Meeting someone else so deeply committed to avoiding their feelings was a gift from the universe.

She liked that he was smart and she liked how his face looked when he was surprised. She liked it when he frowned at her because even displeased she could tell that he enjoyed spending time with her. She couldn’t name a single other person who genuinely enjoyed her company. She had never had any close friends. People she partied with, certainly. It was easy to be popular with a rich, absent mother and no curfew. But none of those people had cared about her as a person, nor had she cared about them. They were all just using each other to satisfy their own needs.

He was different. He asked her questions and listened to her answers. Sometimes he was incredulous at her responses and sometimes she embellished her stories just to watch him get worked up at the idea of taking the embassy jet to Norway for her 13th birthday (she flew commercial) or hiring a full-time zookeeper for her spotted genets (she had to pay the housekeeper’s nephew to feed her cat when they went out of town).

When he first suggested that she might want to drink less she laughed at him and finished the bottle of wine she had been drinking from. When she turned up hungover to class the next morning he didn't say anything but she was annoyed with him as if he did. He didn't tell her she was wrong for drinking but he gave her tired looks when she talked about Margarita Monday or Thirsty Thursday. He never accepted the drinks she offered him. Just shook his head and when she pressed him about it he told her alcohol made him sleepy.

He only got angry about her drinking one time. She had convinced him to come over after a party. Her roommate was out of town for the weekend and she didn’t feel like being alone yet. While she was waiting for him she found some leftover booze and mixed it with whatever pink juice was living in their mini fridge. When he got there she kept trying to push the cup up to his mouth. He brushed her off and she ended up dropping it and spilling it on the both of them.

“Now look what you did, idiot!” She reached up to jab him playfully in the forehead. He moved fast, grabbing her wrist and holding it to the side. Reflexively she tried to swat at him with her other hand but he grabbed that easily as well.

“Stop it.”

His voice was low and dangerous. Her vision swam as she tried to focus on him. His dark eyes burned and she felt like maybe she shouldn’t be standing so close. She backed up and had to tug a little before he released her. They stared at each other. He tried to regain control of his temper, fingers curled tightly into his palms. He shouldn’t have grabbed her but touching his face like that was a step past what he could tolerate. She was always loose with her contact, even more so when she was drinking. She didn’t know how it put him on edge because he would never tell her, would never admit to that weakness. She might have noticed on her own but it never crossed her mind that it was a problem. She just thought he was a bit stiff and needed some affectionate rough housing from time to time. Still angry, he bit back the cruel words he knew would damage their friendship. Words they both had heard directed at them before: reckless, immature, hopeless. She was watching carefully as he struggled with himself. She’d never felt unsafe with him but this moment had made her very aware their relative sizes. She waited for him to say something else.

He sighed. “Where are your paper towels?”

She had completely forgotten about the spill. She shook her head, thoroughly sobered. “I’ll clean it up.”

Normally he would argue with her, insist on helping, but the sickly sweet smell of whatever horrid drink she’d mixed was making him nauseous. He decided the best move was to call it a night and muttered that he’d see her tomorrow as he stepped around the mess and out the door.  

~~~

Like most people, she was clumsy when she drank. Unlike most people, she seemed to take a sick pride in the bumps and bruises she acquired while stumbling around. It had always fascinated her to watch how her body was able to heal itself. To watch bruises darken and then fade. To study scabs as they formed over scraped knees and the shiny, pink skin that developed underneath. She got an even bigger kick out of it when she discovered Hotch’s tight-lipped disapproval of this behavior. Sometimes she would send him photo updates of particularly gruesome wounds.

“Emily!” he shouted indignantly after her latest upload, a burn from the hot plate courtesy of late-night grilled cheese.

“Shhh! We’re in the library!”

“We’re in a study room! You should be studying!”

“I am,” she said, innocently.

“You know what I mean. Please, please, for the love of god, stop sending me pictures of scabs.”

“Well, I guess if you don’t care about me…”

He threw his hands in the air and kicked back from the table. “I’m getting coffee.” She looked up at him hopefully. “No, I won’t get you any.”

She pouted but when he returned he was carrying two cups as well as some Neosporin and bandaids. She reached for the cup but he pulled it back.

“You have to let me deal with that first.” He nodded at her arm.

She looked at the bandaids distastefully.

“I don’t want to have to look at that shit anymore today,” he said firmly.

“Fine,” she muttered, watching as he set her coffee just out of reach. She was a cooperative patient and he worked quickly.

“What the hell? Why did you put like six bandaids on me?”

“Because you’re just going to peel them off and I want to have at least a few hours without having to be exposed to your organs,” he said cheerfully as he pushed her coffee towards her and swept up the paper litter.

She smiled as she sipped her coffee and waited until they left the library before removing the offending bandages.

~~~

They had been going back and forth about her drinking for several months. She had promised to stop drinking on weekdays if he would come out with her occasionally. She was able to keep her promise for the most part. She believed there were exceptions to everything and was sure to find at least a few instances where she justified a drink or two. He would get annoyed but not angry because he knew she was trying. That wasn’t what caused the problem.

It happened partway through the winter quarter. They had just turned in important papers for their history class. Hotch wanted to start studying for the econ midterm coming up but Emily, already in a bad mood, wanted to be done for the day.

“Please, can you just chill for once in your life?” she begged, leaning her head back and staring at the ceiling. She was draped across one of the lounge chairs, legs up on one side, arms thrown over her head.

He shook his head. “This is important to me.”

“Oh, and it’s not important to me?” she bit back. She shifted so she was sitting up, feet on the floor, glaring at him.

“Sorry Em, I didn’t mean it like that.” He frowned, not sure why she was having such a big reaction.

“I just can’t with you, Hotchner. I can’t fucking win.”

“What are you talking about?”

Instead of answering she got up and left the room. They had been sitting in the common room of his dorm. It was generally quiet at that time of day since most of his neighbors were athletes and had practice in the afternoons.

He waited for her to come back. He was learning that was something people did. He still didn’t fully understand it but apparently some people were able to get mad and then get over it without any major consequences. When she didn’t reappear, he shrugged and opened his laptop to start working.

She stalked angrily down the hallway, heading for her room. Halfway there she realized she forgot her bag but didn’t turn around. She wasn’t ready to see Hotch yet with his stupid apologetic face and his stupid understanding eyes. Why had she let him convince her to try? In the fall she had been checked out and could blame her abysmal grades on that lack of effort. Now she was going to get her grades back and see that she was in fact not as smart as she thought. Everyone would see it. Hotch would see it.

She had always gotten good grades growing up. Partly because she was intelligent but partly because high school wasn’t that demanding intellectually. She could skate by on a minimal amount of effort and charm her way into enough extra credit to keep her grades high. She’d only cared about grades in that she didn’t want her mother looking too closely at her school reports. A’s kept her free to misbehave as she pleased. College was turning out to be different.

It felt bad to put significant effort into something only to get lukewarm results. It felt like she was confirming her deepest fear—she really wasn’t exceptional at anything. She was so afraid and she hated it. And Emily had exactly one coping mechanism for fear—drown it. She’d left her phone in her bag too but she didn’t need that to find a party. She knew exactly where she could go for free alcohol and loud music and strangers she didn’t have to worry would find out how stupid and worthless she really was. She went to her room to change.

A couple hours later she walked up to a frat house, hair freshly washed and straightened, dark make up matching her black bodysuit. There were people spilled all over the lawn. Several tables of beer pong were set up. A kiddie pool filled with melting ice and piles of canned beer occupied the walkway. She smiled. She could always count on people to be drinking at a frat house. She saw a guy she met in the fall at one of the tables and headed in that direction. When he saw her it was obvious he didn’t recognize her but he smiled anyway. It was easy to make friends at a frat house when you looked like Emily Prentiss. She accepted the offered ping pong ball and easily made her first shot. Someone handed her a beer. As she sipped it she finally felt like she wasn’t fighting with herself. This was familiar territory. This was where she belonged.

The afternoon quickly became evening and the party moved inside. The music was loud and insistent. She felt lightheaded—she hadn’t eaten since that morning which was probably a mistake. But she was already mostly drunk and the thought floated away quickly. She took the red plastic cup being passed to her without asking what was in it. It was sweet and orange and much tastier than the beer she’d been drinking. The guy from before, she thought his name was Steven, was leading her towards the courtyard dance floor. He guided her with a hand on her back, bare skin exposed by the low-cut. She loved dancing and didn't notice anything unusual when her head started to swim. That was the feeling she had been looking for wasn’t it?

Things started to get patchy. She thought time had passed but she wasn’t sure how much. She was being led up a staircase but she wasn’t sure if the hand she was holding was Steven’s or someone different. She thought his hair had been brown but maybe it was just dark blonde. It didn’t feel particularly urgent to find out.

She was being pressed against a doorway, hands on her waist, a mouth covering her mouth. It was a kiss. She liked kissing so she kissed back. She tried to open her eyes to see who it was she was kissing but it was dark and her eyes wouldn’t focus. Suddenly there was nothing solid behind her and she fell backwards.

“Woah there!” A hand caught her arm at the last moment and pulled her to a wobbling upright position. “Careful.”

She didn't recognize the voice though it felt a little familiar. She didn’t like this room they were in. It was too dark. She could barely hear the music. She tried to push past the voice, speaking but not hearing anything coherent.

“Hang on, not so fast.” The voice was between her and the door and was very solid. The little light that had illuminated the room disappeared when he shut the door. Why did he shut the door?

“letmego.” It came out as all one word but she was happy with it. She was sure he would understand what she wanted. Instead she heard a laugh. It’s not a nice laugh like when Hotch was listening to her spinning tall tales and laughingly told her she was ridiculous. She wondered where Hotch was. He was her favorite person, why wasn’t he here with her now?

The person moved closer and she knew he was laughing at her. Fear burned through her and she screamed at her body to react. But everything felt slow and sticky. She swung at him but missed. She tried again and he caught her arms. She twisted violently, panic stealing her breath. Roughly, he pushed her backwards and she stumbled only to land on something soft. It was a mattress and it smelled. It smelled like beer and cigarettes and vomit. She kicked at him but it did nothing to stop his advance.

“Shhh. Just be good now.”

She cried. She couldn’t help it. She was so confused about how she got here, about where here even was. She tried to fight back but her thoughts were muddy and everything felt so heavy.

“nononostop,” she screamed but she could barely hear herself.

It was over quickly. Or maybe not quickly. Her sense of time shrank and expanded with each breath. All she knew was at some point she found herself alone. The door hadn’t closed all the way so she could see a little light coming in. She stared at it from her place on the bed, blinking slowly, trying to gather enough thought-power to figure out the next step. Something was wrong, she knew it. This wasn’t her bed or even her dorm building. She needed to find Hotch. He could fix everything. She didn’t think she was injured but it was so hard to move. She rolled to her side and ended up falling off the bed completely. She wasted several moments trying to catch her breath. The impact helped shake off some of the heaviness in her mind and she was able to push herself up off the ground. She found that she was only half dressed and, while she wasn’t completely sure why that was, a sob escaped her as she pulled the straps back up. She lost a shoe and it was too dark and complicated to find it so she kicked the other one off instead. She stumbled to the doorway and leaned against it briefly, making one last effort to collect herself before heading out into the world. This walk wasn’t going to be easy.

In a frat house full of drunk people, one drunk and disheveled girl wasn’t noteworthy. She wasn’t even the only person shoeless at that point. No one stopped to ask her if she was ok. No one questioned when she walked out into the night alone and clearly unwell. She focused all her energy on making it back to the dorm and to Hotch. The walk was about half a mile back through the city streets immediately surrounding campus. She tripped and fell more than once, skinning her palms and ripping holse in her pants. Only one person asked if she needed help, concerned by her lack of footwear. She waved them off, slurring that she was going home. The good Samaritan shrugged and headed off in the opposite direction. If a person insisted on helping every drunk college kid who thought they could handle themselves better than they could, they’d never make it home.

She did make it back and thanked whoever might be listening that her keycard was still in her pocket. She hadn’t considered it until the very moment she needed it. She got into the elevator with only one destination in mind. She had no idea what time it was or if he was mad at her and that was why she was alone but she is going to find Aaron Hotchner and let him deal with whatever this mess was she had made.

She knocked and knocked again when he didn’t answer.

“Hotch!” Her voice was hoarse and not very loud. She raised her hand to bang on the door again when it opened. He stood in the doorway, hair sticking up from sleep, blinking at her. He looked irritated and she wasn’t sure what she did wrong but she’s willing to atone for it. She held up her hands, trying to sort out her words.

“Hotch, I—“

“Go to bed, Emily.” He sounded tired more than anything else. He had answered this late night knock many times and tonight he didn’t want to play along. He didn’t want to deal with her drunk affections, he didn’t want to make her the snack she insisted she deserved, he didn’t want to make sure to switch out her pilfered beers with waters for the next couple hours. He just wanted to sleep and deal with this disappointment tomorrow. He turned away and she started to follow him but he just grabbed her backpack from his desk chair. He pushed it into her arms, propelling her back through the door.

“Go to bed,” he repeated. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

With that he closed the door, quietly but firmly. She knew he wouldn’t answer if she knocked again. She hugged her bag to her chest. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. But if Hotch wouldn’t help her, it must have been her fault. She stumbled down the hall to her room. She didn’t want to lay down in the dark. Just the thought of doing that made her heart race. She felt dirty so she went to the bathroom to take a shower. After she turned on the water she looked at herself in the mirror. She didn’t blame Hotch for sending her away. She was a mess. She wouldn’t want to deal with her either.

She was far too tired to take her clothes off. The adrenaline that got her home had faded and everything was beginning to hurt. She climbed into the shower fully dressed and sank down to the floor. With her knees pulled up to her chest she pressed her face into the bend of her elbow. She chewed on the skin around her fingers, finding it as comforting now as when she first discovered it. But the comfort was not enough and she found herself crying without knowing the exact reasons why. She cried until the water turned cold and then for awhile after that. Finally, worried that someone would find her, she cut the water off and got out. Shedding the wet bodysuit, she threw it in the trash before wrapping up in her towel. It was all she could do to make it into her bed. As she laid down she saw the sky was getting lighter and she felt relieved that at least she wouldn’t have to be in the dark now.

~Part 2~

[faulty-writes]

Can I request reader coming out as trans (FtM) to Mirio? But no one suspected it because for the longest time reader suppressed their gender identity and made themselves seem as 'a normal cis girl'. But since reader and Mirio will be going into the real world, they want to be seen as male- So they tell him that they are going to start hormone therapy very soon, get a hair cut, change for their happiness, and end up confessing since they got nothing to lose anymore hnn angsty fluff 👉👈😔😭💕💕💕

[ Okay, so I tried to make this angsty. The only way I thought I could is if the reader’s family rejected them because they confessed their secret. So yeah, enjoy! I had plenty of fun writing this. ] 

All your life you only had one goal, to be a hero. Well, actually scratch that. You had two goals. One can’t be a hero without knowing how to be themselves or rather be proud of who they are. No great hero has made it without having self-confidence in themselves as well as their abilities. That’s what often made others admire you, that sense of justice and honesty one carried with their person and as far as that goes.

You had been lying to yourself, though you always suspected you were born in the wrong body. For the past three years at U.A. High you kept up the false appearance of a woman, a normal female student. But truth be told, you hated the way you looked. You hated wearing skirts, you hated wearing a bra though you had purchased a binder to conceal the shape of your chest. You couldn’t wear it in school, especially with the constriction it brought during combat training.

Though you felt more comfortable on the days you could wear it in secret. You hated your long hair, you couldn’t stand to look at yourself in the mirror and you wished more than anything you could see the reflection of the person you were on the inside. That is, you were transgender and you had known you were for the longest time but the fact is, you were too afraid to tell anyone. Too afraid of what your family and friends would think, despite the fact your friends had proved time and time again you could trust them.

But this was an entirely different level of trust, you weren’t even sure you could bring yourself to tell your closest friend, Mirio Togata. He was a happy go lucky type of man, handsome and strong and always smiling no matter what. Sure he had his moments of sadness, like when Sir Nighteye passed. But he continued to climb, aiming for the top and nothing less. You wished you had that confidence and you almost felt guilty for keeping this secret from him.

Was it even considered a secret? You hated keeping who you were from him, often you had thought about confessing to him. Mirio seemed like the type of hero you needed right now, honest, true, and someone who would never let you down. He’d sacrifice everything just to see you smile again and since graduation was approaching. You were in a debate with yourself, you knew eventually you had to tell him.

You had to tell everyone, you didn’t want to be seen as a “female” hero. You wanted to be someone strong and handsome, the newest and most promising “male” hero from U.A. High. But in order to do that, you had to swallow your pride and first confront your family. All in all, they had the right to know first. Though you had a bad feeling about it, you had already planned everything out.

You’d graduate and start your hormone therapy, once that was done you’d continue to transform into the person you were meant to be. But...sometimes the people you think would support you the most ended up disappointing you and Mirio noticed your change of behavior. You were quiet in class, only ate a little during lunch, and seemed unfocused during combat training. He didn’t like it, “Hey guys…” he said one day when you walked away from the lunch table, “Hm?” Nejire popped her head up as she chewed her food and Tamaki just turned his head, ready to listen to whatever Mirio had to say.

“Have you noticed Y/n lately? She doesn’t seem like herself.” Nejire swallowed the food in her mouth and nodded, “Yeah, I noticed she seemed off today in training. It was strange, she’s usually so focused.” Tamaki nodded, “Y-Yeah, it w-was kind of w-weird.” then again, he didn’t talk to you much. Mirio was the closest to you and even he didn’t know what was troubling you, that didn’t seem right. “S-Should we ask her w-what’s wrong?” Nejire frowned at Tamaki’s words and tapped her chin.

“I don’t know Tama, if she hadn’t told us what’s bothering her then maybe we have to wait until she feels comfortable enough unless…” she trailed off and looked at Mirio, “Hm?” the blond tilted his head, “What?” he questioned and Nejire smiled, “I’m sure she’d tell you what’s bugging her if you asked! You are the closest to her and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, after all, you’re just showing concern for a friend right?” she said and Mirio slumped his shoulders.

“I don’t know...I’m not sure if I should, like you said maybe she’ll just come to us when she’s ready. The last thing I want to do is force something out of someone, well unless it’s a bad guy.” Nejire let out a sigh and crossed her arms before slumping in her chair, “I don’t know, what do you think Tama?” the shy boy shivered when all the attention was directed at him. “Um...I t-think we should l-let Mirio do w-what he wants,” he replied, never wanting to be in the middle of an argument or problem.

Mirio frowned before looking down, an almost distant glance in his eye. “I just hope she’s alright…” he said though he wondered if you would actually tell him or not, but if this went on any longer. He’d probably confront you himself, after all, a hero giving help when it’s not asked is what makes a hero a hero in the first place. At least that’s what All Might said and the former number one hero can’t be wrong, right?

To save others when not asked, sure it could be considered an invasion of privacy, maybe even budding into someone else’s business. But he had done that several times throughout his hero training and though he didn’t want to hurt you if his hero side took over. There was very little anyone could do to stop him. Though unknown to him, you were hurting because of what had happened with your family.

Apparently, support and loving your child meant close to nothing if you weren’t making them proud or going against what they believed in. But either way, you had made a promise. That before graduation you’d tell Mirio your secret and you just hoped to God he would listen. You felt butterflies as you walked back to the lunch table knowing that the lunch period was about to end. 

“Hey...can I...talk to you when you have free time, Mirio?” you questioned and though he looked surprised, you watched him smile and give you the thumbs up. “Sure thing, sunshine! How about we meet after school, maybe outside the dorms?” you nodded, “Sounds good...I just have something important to tell you.” with those words, you turned and walked away. Hoping that this would go better than when you had told your parents.

“See?” Mirio said as he turned to face Nejire and Tamaki. “I knew she’d tell me what was bothering her, I hope today goes by fast! I can’t wait to help her with whatever is troubling her. I hope it’s nothing too serious.” he said just before the lunch bell rang and the students returned to their classes. Mirio seemed antsy the rest of the day as he was eager to hear what you had to say.

When the bell finally rang, Mirio practically ran out of the school building and toward the dorms. Scaring people along the way as he ran, he was energetic enough as is. But to see him run so fast toward the dorms was certainly a sight. Though he was a little too excited as he got there about 15 minutes too early and actually had to wait until he saw you walking toward him.

“Hey there!” he called as he enthusiastically waved his hand, “Hm?” you lifted your head up, a faint smile coming to your lips but it soon faded as you were quickly reminded of what you wanted to tell him in the first place. You took a deep breath, “Be brave…” you reminded yourself, despite the fact your heart was racing inside your chest. You hadn’t remembered being this nervous since the entrance exam three years ago.

You continued to walk, only stopping when Mirio was in front of you. “I hope it’s not too weird to say but I was really excited when you said you had something to tell me. Sorry if this is out of line to say, but I noticed that you haven’t been yourself lately so I was wondering if there was a way I could help you and then you came to me and well here we are,” he said with a hearty chuckle, the sound of which almost made you laugh.

But you were a little too nervous to be feeling any other emotion at the moment. You took another deep breath and looked around, deciding to walk over to a tree for some shade. Mirio followed and sat on the ground with you. You had your hands folded on your lap and your head was hanging down. “I...I have...been keeping this...a secret for a...a really long time…” you began, swallowing the lump in your throat.

Mirio frowned and scooted closer to you, “A really long time?” he repeated and you could only nod, trying to keep calm but it was hard when your stomach twisted with butterflies. It almost made you feel nauseous but you tried to power through the feeling and took another deep breath which was beginning to concern Mirio. “Are you okay?” he questioned as he reached out to place his hand on your shoulder and you nodded.

“Y-Yeah...just give me a minute.” you could feel him squeeze your shoulder as if trying to reassure you everything was alright. It was comforting in a way, but that didn’t relieve the fear you felt. “I…Mirio I’ve been lying to...t-to myself for the longest time…” you said, trying to deny the fact that your eyes were watering and Mirio dropped his hand from your shoulder. “Huh? What do you mean?” he questioned before you turned to look at him and his eyes widened as he saw those tears slowly stream down your face.

“I...I-I’m transgender...I have been for the l-longest time and I…” you clenched your jaw and your hands tightened into fists. “I w-want to be seen as male! As who I truly am on the inside! I want to...no...I-I’m going to s-start hormone therapy after graduation...and I w-want to...I want to get a haircut! Transform into the person that...that I truly am, for my own happiness!” Mirio leaned back, his jaw hanging open in surprise.

He hadn’t expected this and part of him felt guilty, how could he have not seen this? You wiped your nose as the tears continued to come, “A-After graduation...I have nothing...NOTHING left to lose so...I figured I’d tell you but I a-already told my parents and...a-and…” you trembled and Mirio was quick to wrap his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. “Hey it’s alright…” he whispered and let you cry for a few moments, your hands desperately tangled into his shirt though he was still wearing a frown.

You were in this much pain and he didn’t see it? Not only that, but he had also misgendered you this whole time? Damn...did he feel like an idiot. “I...w-when I told my parents...my father c-couldn’t accept it,” you began to confess, tears still trailing down your face. “He s-said his ‘baby girl’ was j-just confused a-and when I told him I w-wasn’t. He just…j-just said ‘W-Who is going t-to l-love you? W-Who is going to love a f-freak that messed their body u-up with hormones and s-surgery?’ I j-just couldn’t believe h-he-” you hiccuped and buried your face into Mirio’s chest and he gave a soft growl, gently placing his hand to the back of your head and his arm wrapped around your waist tightly, ensuring that you couldn’t go anywhere.

There were very few things that could get him angry, but this was unforgivable. “How…” he began, “how could anyone say that to their own child…” in all truth, Mirio loved children. He always thought about being a big brother or a father someday. Taking care of Eri was something he treasured, making her smile and laugh. He could never imagine telling any child that they weren’t loved, that they weren’t accepted.

He clenched his jaw, his own angry tears beginning to slide down his cheeks. You gave another hiccup and turned your head, a part of you was grateful to be in Mirio’s arms. To be so close to him and vulnerable. He hadn’t rejected you, he was protecting you as much as he could. You swallowed and parted your lips to speak again, despite the mucus that was running down from your nose. You promptly ignored it, “I...I said I didn’t care...if nobody loves me that’s fine! I’ll just have to love myself more! Transgender or not…” your hands trembled, “I’M STILL A HERO!” you screamed, knowing that the students in the dorm building must have heard you.

But you didn’t care, someone was always screaming around the U.A. area anyway. The hero students were enthusiastic and they all had one goal, in addition to being both rivals and teammates. They were all striving to the top, each one going through their own challenges, and while you knew this was just another challenge you had to overcome. Doing it alone was starting to become more than you could bear.

Mirio smiled through his tears, “That’s right...you’re still a hero no matter what...inside and out. You’re beautiful no matter what and I believe in you and I…” he sniffled before squeezing you, something that made you squeak out. He leaned down, burying his face into the crook of your neck and you shivered when you felt his hot breath against your skin. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry I’ve been such a...a jerk...I’ve been calling you by the w-wrong pronouns...the wrong everything. I…I…” your eyes widened, he was sorry?

You swallowed, wanting to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know, after all, you had kept it a secret. You couldn’t blame him for calling you by female pronouns, even if it tore you apart on the inside every time you heard it. Like a stab to the heart, a cruel reminder of the very gender you didn’t identify with. “It’s not right...what your father s-said...you are loved! I don’t care what anyone says!” he pulled back and grabbed your shoulders.

You looked at him wide-eyed before he spoke again, shaking you a little. “You hear me!? You are loved! I love you! Tamaki loves you! Nejire loves you! Your teachers and friends! We all love you and we’re here for you! I swear I’ll protect you! I’ll protect you and make sure you are given everything you want! Make sure people call you by the right pronouns and everything!” he cried out and you could tell he meant every word because he had that sparkle in his eye.

The one that you always saw when he was playing the part of a hero, it burned with a justice that couldn’t be put out. You felt your heart swell and more tears came, “You...y-you really m-mean it?” you questioned and Mirio nodded, “Of course I do.” he replied and you glanced away. “Even...e-even after I g-go through the hormone therapy? A-After I get my hair c-cut? All of it…?” a small chuckle came from Mirio before he reached up to wipe his eyes.

“You bet…” he replied, giving the brightest smile he could muster. “But...can I ask one question?” you tilted your head in curiosity. “Can...can I still call you sunshine or would you prefer something else?” you wiped your nose before laughing and leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him. You laid your head against his chest once more, though his shirt was slightly moist from your tears.

Not that you minded. “I'll make a special exception because it’s coming from you.” Mirio smiled and wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair. “Yeah...that’s good because you’ll always be special to me, sunshine,” he said, and though you felt relieved. Tears still fell from your eyes, though unlike before. They were tears of happiness, the same ones you hoped you’d be seeing at the end of your transformation journey. As long as you had Mirio and your friends by your side, forget about your parents and just focus on your own happiness. You’d be alright, everything would be alright.

[fanwarriorfictions]

One-

A Stranger Things Fanfic

Chapter Eight- Part Three

Phina didn't know exactly what happened, all she remembered was the smoke, the pain, and then the darkness. Her head throbbed, like she had gotten punched in the temple ten times in a row.

She sat up, holding her head in her hands. She let out a low groan, the pain getting worse from the movement. Phina tried to shift her body, so she could look at her surroundings, which sent a burning sensation throughout her right leg and up her side. She let out a shriek, looking down at her blood covered body.

Four deep claw marks adorned her leg, starting from her upper thigh and ending at her calf.

She looked around her, trying to place where she was. She was laying in the parking lot of the middle school, but, not really. No, she was in the upside down. The scene looked familiar, like, like, well, she didn't know. All she knew was that she had seen it before, and she was willing to bet her reoccurring nightmares had something to do with it.

The Demogorgan must have grabbed her, before bringing her to this place. Why she wasn't dead yet, she didn't know. Clearly, she was bleeding enough to attact it, but if it wasn't interested in her, that meant, their was more blood, more food for it to eat.

"The kids," Phina realizes, involuntarily jumping, which caused her to groan in pain.

She needed to get to her kids, she needs to save them. Phina tries to bend her leg, but endes up screaming out instead, there was no way she would be able to do anything like this, she has to stop the bleeding.

Phina grabbes the shredded material of her jeans, tearing away the pieces until her right leg was completely bare. She places her hands on her leg, where the bleeding was the worst, concentrating on the fire within her.

Normally, flame or heat would not affect her, so she had to make this hot, very hot. Her eyes began to glow golden, her palms heating up. Within seconds, her skin began to burn, the wound cauterizing. She bit her lip, hard, to keep from screaming, blood now pooling in her mouth.

   The smell of her own burning flesh made her want to puke, she bit down on her lip harder to prevent it. The blood begins to slow down in that area, almost completely cauterized. Phina pauses for a breath and then she is sending even more heat into the wound.

It stops bleeding completely, and Phina spits out the blood in her mouth, breathing deeply. She gritted her teeth and stood up, screaming out as many curses as she could. In answer, she heard the shriek of the Demogorgan. It was inside the school, screeching as it slammed itself into a wall, over and over again. Phina limped towards the noise, trying her best to block out the pain, but she could feel every agonizing step of it.

Phina turned the corner, into the hall of which the Demogorgan's shrieks came from. A portal, like the one her and Nancy had crawled through in the forest, opened on the wall, and the Demogorgan forces its way through it.

Phina sees her chance, and she boltes, the adrenaline keeping the pain of her leg at bay for the moment. She hears gun shots being fired from the other side as she neares the portal. As she dives through it, they go quiet, the only sound she can hear is the Demogorgan's shriek.

Phina falls to the ground, watching as the Demogorgan jumps on top of a man. Phina gets to her knees, watching the monster, waiting for it to see her. Then, she freezes, not because of the Demogorgan that was feasting away upon its dinner, but because of the man who was the feast, Dr Brenner.

Memories that have been locked away for 11 years slammed into her, and she felt no need to save that man, none whatsoever. No, not with the things he put her through, not with what he put Eleven through.

Her eyes fill with tears, a low, aching sob passing her lips, Brenner lookes up at her, the pain in his face as the monster ripped into his stomach turning into agonizing confusion.

"One," he whispers, "One, help me."

Phina let out another quiet sob, "papa," then she was running.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn't turn back, she just ran. Every memory her brain had suppressed flashed through her mind like a movie. Going backwards through the painful memories, until it landed on her earliest one, Dr Brenner, the man she had once known as, papa.

   He had raised her for the first five years of her life, and she lived in pure agony. She was tested on, experimented on, cut open and analyzed. She was a specimen of which they had never seen before, the birth of their crazed obsession with gifted individuals. Then she got away, killed her way out as at only five years of age, yet not a child, not even close.

When the gunfire starts up again, Phina followes the noise, pushing her past back into the corner it had been hiding in for all of these years. She runs faster, turning down a hallway, seeing the kids running towards her almost instantly, Dustin carrying El in his arms.

"Phina," Mike shoutes, confused, but relieved to see his sister, with her here, that meant they had a protector, and he knew Phina, she would make sure they were safe.

She cries out to him, "Mike!"

She runs towards them, towards their shared goal of a classroom to hide in. The kids ran into the room, Mike waiting for his sister to get in before slamming the door behind her. They didn't stop to reunite, just followed Dustin to the back of the room, where he and Lucas lifted El onto a table.

Phina almost sobbed when she saw how weak the girl looked, she looked near death. El clung to Mike, like he was her life line, which might of very well been true.

"Just hold on a little longer ok," Mike pleaded with El, "he's gone. The bad man's gone. We'll be home soon. My mom, she'll get you your own bed. You can eat as many eggos as you want.

"And, we can go to the Snow Ball," Mike smiles.

"Promise," El shakily asks, her voice breaking.

Mike looks at her, "promise."

They smile at each other, and Phina smiles at them. Phina feels weak in that moment, the adrenaline coming down from its high. She places her hand on Dustin's shoulder to keep from falling over. He looks up at her, seeing her incredibly pale face, then down at her leg, his own face paling.

"Holy shit Phina," Dustin yelled, "what happened to your leg!"

"I'm fine," she says, but almost falls right after she says it.

Lucas and Dustin support her, letting her lean on them.

She lets out a breath, "just a little dizz..."

Shrieks and gunfire sound from just outside the door, the lights flickering worse than before. Dustin yells out a little and Phina pulls him and Lucas into her sides, ready to protect them. They all watch the door, Phina pushing the boys behind her. The gunfire stops, and everyone glances at each other.

"I-is it dead," Dustin stutters.

After a few moments of silence, Dustin gets his answer. The Demogorgan slams through the door, breaking it from its hinges. The boys freak out, Phina pushing them backwards.

"Get the wrist rocket! Get the wrist rocket," Dustin screams.

Phina shares a look with El, one that speaks a thousand words. As the boys freak out, firing rocks at the monster, Phina and El silently say a million words to each other, each a different variation of I Love You Sister.

Phina helps El from the table and takes her hand. Lucas fires a large rock at the monster, hitting it in the chest as El uses her power to make it fly back into the front of the room. The boys stare at it, shocked, as Phina and El push their way in front of them. They walk forward, towards the monster.

"Eleven, Phina, stop," Mike shouts, running after them, only to be thrown backwards by El.

Phina, with her new found memories, uses her power to grow a cage of green vines around Mike. Her power, was more than just the fire she knew she had, it was all the elements.

The girls continue towards the Demogorgan, it's painful whimpering the only noise. As the wall cracks behind it, dark purple vines from the upside down crawl outwards, wrapping around the monster, adding to the crushing weight of El's power.

As the girls came to a stop in front of the monster, they turned back to the boys. Phina's heart broke as she saw her crying brother, and the distraught boys standing on either side of him.

"Goodbye Mike," El says, then looks to Phina, "you don't have to."

Phina looks at the girl, confused, before realizing what she was saying. Phina started to rapidly shake her head.

"No. You are not doing this alone," Phina says assertively, "do you understand me!"

Before El can even answer, Phina is turning back to the monster, raising her hand towards it. El follows her lead.

"No more," El tells it.

   Phina hesitates one more moment, looking back at her boys, "I love you boys. I always will, don't worry, all will be well."

Phina turns forward, and she releases a stream of fire from the palm of her right hand, her left reaching out to grab El's. The monster lets out the loudest roar she'd ever heard, she ignores the pain that eruptes in her head.

Phina vaguely hears El begin to scream, and her own scream begin in answer. Her senses slowly begin to fade, her hearing, smelling, tasting, and then her sight. She is left with just feeling, the heat of her fire at her palm, the tight hold El had on her hand, and the shaking of the Earth beneath them as the sister's release themselves upon it.

And then she's completely in the dark, no longer feeling El's hand. Phina falls, El screams louder, and the world takes a shuttering breath.

-1736 words-

Probably on of my favorite parts to this story. And finally, Phina gets her memories back, and along comes new powers. I know the whole "controlling the elements" thing is a little over done and is used basically everywhere, but hey, I'm cliche and I don't give a damn, it's cool. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter, this is about the last of the intense action so I hope you aren't disappointed.

-Morgan

[you-get-to-exhale-now-cyrus]

Jonah Beck & The Doors

Word Count: 1,870 TW: implied abuse, bruising A/N: i think i read a fic like this a while back somewhere, but i can’t remember?? anyways i’ve been thinking about jonah’s home life for a while, and i wanted to write a fic dedicated to it!! i hope you enjoy!

also this isn’t ship oriented, just good friends!

Monday mornings were never days that anyone looked forward to. Staying up late on a Sunday proved to be a bad choice, when you walked in looking like a twice-dead zombie.

Monday mornings were worse if you were Jonah Beck and you were walking in with a black eye and bruises down your right arm (his frisbee-throwing arm!). But nobody needed to know why he wasn’t looking like a ray of sunshine.

Just smile, he thought to himself, grinning as he entered the school, his head hung low, smile, and everything is going to be all right.

Before the bell for first period rang, Jonah shuffled to his locker and grabbed his books for Geometry, his least favorite class.

“Jonah, hey!” a familiar voice that could only be Andi called. She bounced over to him, pushing her bangs to the side.

Jonah grimaced; there was no way that he was getting out of this conversation without making eye contact.

Now or never, he thought to himself, picking up his head.

“Hey Andiman,” he greeted, tugging on his backpack straps with nervous energy as Andi sucked in the air that surrounded them.

“Jonah! Your eye...what happened?” she fretted, her soft brows eyes flooding with worry as she scanned his injuries.

“Oh, uh, I was at frisbee practice and I missed it completely!” he lied smoothly, smiling so hard his face was starting to hurt, “yeah, Gus threw it and I guess the sun was in my eyes because the next thing I know BAM!” he exclaimed, “frisbee to the face. I’ll be fine though,”

Andi seemed relieved with this answer, nodding her head. “Well, be careful out there. Put some ice on it to help the swelling,” she informed him, wincing at the shrill bell that signaled first period.

“I will, thanks. See you at lunch.” Jonah pivoted on his heel and hurried away, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. That went...surprisingly smoothly.

“And since these angles are equal, we can deduct that the shape is-”

“Pst!” Buffy whispered, tapping Jonah’s desk lightly, “do you have an extra pencil?”

Jonah nodded, digging through his bag and pulling out a few crumpled papers before handing Buffy a pencil.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, focusing her attention on the problem on the board. Why was geometry so boring? This class was definitely the one that seemed to drag on and on. After several more proofs, the bell rang and the students were never as happy as they were now.

“Remember to do the last few problems in the packet!” The teacher reminded his students, grabbing his eraser and clearing the board of any stray marks.

“Ugh, I don’t want tooo,” Jonah groaned, tilting his head up to face the light from the ceiling. Curse gravity for allowing his hood from his sweatshirt to fall. Curse the university for having Buffy standing right in front of him.

“Dude, your eye!” she gawked, taking a step closer and examining it like she was his doctor, “did you get in a fight?”

Something like that, he thought to himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “No, I, uh, I actually got hurt playing frisbee. I ran to catch one and then tripped over a tree root, and fell,” he lied, curling his toes inside his sneakers. Was that what he had told Andi? He knew it had something to do with frisbee, but he wasn’t sure. Close enough.

“Yikes,” she commented, her brows furrowing, “well, make sure to put ice on that, or use some sort of concealer to make it look less...bad.” She then handed Jonah his now dull pencil and promptly turned to walk to class.

The athlete exhaled shakily, shuffling out of the classroom and back to his locker.

It seemed to get easier and easier to lie to people. Throughout the day, people had come up to him, asking him why he looked like he was beaten in a fight. And he would calmly explain that he hurt himself in frisbee practice, even throwing in a few jokes about him being clumsy in there. It seemed to please people, and by the end of the day, he even made a few ‘friends’, or rather close acquaintances, who had shared their stories about sports injuries.

Safe to say, Jonah was feeling a lot better by the time it was time to walk home. Until he realized what home meant, and his happy demeanor disappeared.

“Ready to go?” Cyrus chirped from his locker, holding his history book under one arm and having his bag slung over his opposing shoulder.

“Yeah,” he replied shakily, feeling his Adams apple wobble in his throat. He and Cyrus always walked home together, but today was different. He was terrified that Cyrus would give him one look and all his carefully constructed walls would come crumbling down. And he totally would have made it home without any issue were it not for Cyrus pointing out the fall foliage.

“Look, Jonah! Aren’t the maple leaves just gorgeous in the fall?” he gushed, a huge grin splitting his face.

Jonah peered up at the leaves, being basked by the golden sunlight. Squinting, he tried to make out the colors. “Yeah, they’re pretty nice,” he mumbled, his eyes trailing down the trunk of the tree until something obstructed his view; Cyrus was standing directly in front of him. Staring at him in the eyes. At the one that was bruised.

“Jonah,” he started softly, his eyebrows drawn up in concern, “what happened to your eye?”

Jonah tried to follow his routine that he had perfected at school. First step was to smile, but it was weaker, and faker, than before. Cyrus definitely noticed that. Bless his inner therapist.

“Dude, I totally fumbled at frisbee practice yesterday. Collided with one kid going for the frisbee and we just...clashed,” he lied, grinning so hard that it was starting to physically hurt.

Meeting Cyrus’ eyes, he knew it was over; Cyrus had that ‘look’ that meant he knew something was up, but he was going to wait until Jonah spilled. The Jewish boy wasn’t one to intrude.

“We didn’t have practice yesterday, Jonah,” Cyrus reminded him, “or else I would have been there to hand out snacks and things like that.”

It was definitely over at this point. No way Jonah was going to squeeze out of this situation.

“It-it’s nothing major really,” he lied again, his voice low along with his head. Trying to focus on all the fallen leaves on the ground was not helping; they just made him think of Cyrus and that damned face.

The two walked in uncomfortable silence for a bit, kicking at the brittle leaves under the soles of their shoes. Cyrus finally broke the silence as they pulled up to his driveway.

“I’d really like it if you came inside,” he offered kindly, “my parents definitely won’t mind, and I can text your mom and tell her you’re here,”

Jonah stared at him at first, blinking owlishly, until he softly nodded his head, ducking into Cyrus’ house.

“Mom! I’m home!” Cyrus called, but to no response, “she’s probably in a therapy session, but we can go to my room.” He led the other boy up the stairs, texting Mrs. Beck that he and Jonah were working on a school project, to which she replied ‘thank you for telling me’.

“So,” Cyrus began, ushering Jonah inside and motioning for him to take a seat on his beanbag, “I’m not going to force you to talk. We can just sit here until you’re ready,”

“Your inner therapist is jumping out,” Jonah joked weakly, his lips twitching into a gentle smile, “...I just-I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted after a beat.

“In what sense?” Cyrus pried, crossing his legs, “hold on. Turn towards me, I wanna see your eye,”

Jonah chewed on his lip, biting down so hard that he threatened to draw blood. “Lately I’ve...I don’t even really know why but,” he paused, holding his breath for a few seconds. Now was not when he wanted to cry. He didn’t want to cry at all, but he hadn’t even said what happened.

“Take your time,” Cyrus assured him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He could feel Jonah tense at the touch, and immediately removed his hand. “Sorry,”

“It’s not your fault, I’m just...clumsy.” He picked the word with caution, his hand trailing up towards his bruised eye, tentatively gracing his skin.

“You’re one of the most athletically gifted people I know, Jonah. You’re not clumsy,” Cyrus promised him, tracing circles into his own palm.

“I...I walked into a door,” he managed to spit out, sucking in all the oxygen that surrounded him and Cyrus. How badly he wished he could have taken back his words. He really didn’t want Cyrus to worry about him.

Cyrus felt like he’d just been punched in the gut, all the air knocked out of him. Jonah, sweet and happy Jonah, was going through one of the worst situations imaginable. “How long have you been...walking into doors?”

Jonah sighed, leaning his head against Cyrus and taking in the comforting scent of his lemon shampoo. “I-I think...for a few months. The first one I walked into wasn’t bad; there wasn’t even bruising. But after that...I became more and more clumsy.” His voice cracked in the middle of his words, tears pushing against his lashes.

Another sickening feeling overtook Cyrus, who gingerly put an arm around Jonah. “Is this okay?” he asked, not wanting to overstep again. He could feel Jonah nod against his shoulder, and slowly rubbed his arm. Jonah winced, and Cyrus immediately stopped.

“I-ran into a really bad door the other day,” he admitted, rolling up his sleeves to reveal a few fading bruises, a few blue, the others yellow in color.

Cyrus swallowed thickly, examining Jonah’s bruises carefully, his dainty fingers brushing against his arm. “If-if you ever find yourself running into any more doors, you know you can always call me and sleepover,” he murmured, a sympathetic smile playing on his lips.

Jonah tried to smile back, but collapsed into Cyrus’ chest, his tears staining the other boy’s light blue shirt. And he wanted to stop so badly but that was beyond his control; he’d slipped into a world where he no longer held the reins.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Cyrus reassured him over and over, “It’s terrible what’s happening, and I’m so sorry, but things will be alright,”

Jonah didn’t know how long he stayed there, tangled in Cyrus arms and bawling his eyes out. It was relieving in a way; it definitely helped to be able to tell someone.

“Thanks,” he mumbled after a while, prying himself off of Cyrus, “for...helping me with these pesky doors,” he sighed, running his hands through his matted hair.

“Of course,” Cyrus replied immediately, a weak smile dancing on his lips, “and Jonah?”

“Yeah?“

“If you ever think you’re going to walk into a door again, your room is a place where you can’t do that. Try and find solidarity,”

Jonah beck smiled genuinely for the first time that day. Things were going to be okay.

tag list: @shortstackofpeaches || @seanna313 || @geekingbeautytx || @heavenlybyers || @ghostswasp || @wlwandimack || @giocondasstuff || @lemonboytyrus || @adorejrizzle || @swingsetboys || @ifellintotyrushell || @idk-dude-17 || @rbf-lesbian ||​ @marianara-sauce || @kaptainjinxz || @alex-poster-pizz

[thekitsune]

Psychic Hearts Chapter 1

Okay, everyone. Do not worry, I am not going to stop updating The Psychic and the Crystal Gems. I just wanted to write the first chapter of my MP100/KH crossover while it’s on my mind. Also note, Mob’s keyblade...I’m taking design suggestions if anyone has any.

Mob was not sure how it started. The first time it happened, he was on the way back to his house after an exorcism with Reigen. It was back in his seventh year of middle school. From what he could remember, a group of black, bug-like creatures had rose from the ground and surrounded him. He remembered that he had thought they were just evil spirits so he attempted to exorcise them. Imagine his surprise when nothing happened, and he was sent flying backwards from a sudden strike by one of the creatures.

The pain from the sudden strike had spread throughout his arm. When he saw another creature attempt to attack him, he had quickly used his telekinesis to stop it in its tracks. Sadly, this had left him open to an attack from behind which resulted in Mob getting cut deeply. He released his grip on the first creature as he tried to remain standing, but he could feel his vision get hazy while he felt his energy begin to surge. The moment another creature shot forward at him, Mob created a barrier to block the attack and then sent it flying and smashing into a pole with a quick flick of his wrist.

He then dodged another strike by covering his body with his psychic energy and moving out of the way at high speeds. The only down side was that he felt nauseous afterwards. When he moved to make another barrier to block another attack, he was surprised as one of the creatures rose from below and attempted to scratch him. He was barely able to move his head out of the way and push the creature away. He had felt his body begin to get heavy as he realized that he was running out of stamina. It was definitely nothing like exorcising evil spirits.

When he spotted the creatures move in his direction to strike again, he was surprised when a hooded figure appeared out of a dark portal and struck them down with a quick swipe from a...large key? He still was not sure exactly what caused the person to appear at that moment, but he was happy they did. If they hadn't, then he never would have became their friend.

The person had quickly disposed the creatures before turning around to check on Mob who had just stared back at them with a shocked look...or as shocked as he could get his face to look. The person had pulled their hood down to reveal a black haired girl around his age. She had quickly checked his injuries before pulling a small bottle out of a pocket on her cloak. Offering it to him, Mob just looked at it before bringing it to his lips to drink. It was kind of tasteless, but he did feel his stamina return to him while the pain from the injuries begin to fade.

After making sure that he was okay, the girl was about to leave before Mob's timid voice spoke out to her and asked her what her name was. She was surprised and seemed to be uncertain about giving her name away, but she had finally came around and introduced herself to Mob. Xion. It was interesting name.

He had asked her if she was going to come back anytime soon. She had to think for a moment before finally giving him an answer. He was surprised at how bad he felt when he found out that she wasn't certain. In the end though, he told her that if she ever did come back that he would like to see her. This seemed to surprise the girl, but she agreed with a bright smile before vanishing into another portal of darkness.

A week later, Mob was surprised to run into her by the river that he walks by on his way to school. She greeted him, and Mob found himself developing a friendship with Xion. Someone with interesting powers and some kind of connection to those creatures that he had never ran into again (thankfully).

Months had passed, Mob had entered the eighth grade and Xion visited him once every week. It was nice. Then her visits became less frequent and when she did visit, she seemed concerned or uncertain about something. It worried Mob. It didn't help that his own life had began to change as well. While positive aspects entered his life (The Body Improvement Club, his friendship with Teruki and the Telepathy Club, the fact that he and Ritsu had finally grown closer as brothers), there were various negative aspects to: the increase use of his psychic powers, the eruptions of his emotions, Ritsu getting kidnapped and Mob being forced to break one of his principles to save Ritsu, Reigen almost dying had Mob not transferred his powers over to aid him.

Life was getting harder for Mob and if he had to be honest, he really missed his mysterious friend. Their conversations always helped brighten his mood. However...he had a feeling that something bad was about to happen to her.

Present Day ???

Mob opened his eyes and found himself standing on some kind of platform. The platform was made of very beautiful materials. The design though was...interesting...He saw...himself in a laying position with his eyes closed. The circle that he intersected on the platform was filled with the same color as his psychic energy. Surrounding them were several different smaller circles. Each circle had a different person that Mob considered close to him.

The first and closest one to Mob on the platform was Ritsu, the second closest circle to Mob had Reigen, the third circle had Teru, the fourth had Dimple, and the fifth was filled with the faces of the Body Improvement Club members. There was a 100% underneath Mob's position on the platform with dark colors emanating from it and closing in on Mob's position. It might have just been Mob's imagination, but he was almost certain that he saw the 100% change to ???% on it. At the upper right portion of the platform, was a circle with Xion in it although she was slightly facing away from him, but she was looking back with a small smile.

While he liked the overall design of the platform, he still did not understand where he was...and why it looked like this. The fact that the platform seemed to be floating in an endless void...unnerved him slightly.

As he looked around, he was surprised to see three pedestals pop up from the platform's surface. Slowly, a sword, staff, and shield appeared, one above each pedestal. Mob blinked in confusion before slowly walking up to the shield.

"The power to protect your friends. The power of the guardian...is this the power you seek?" a voice asked which caught Mob offguard at first, but he quickly shook the confusion away and lifted the shield off the pedestal. Already deciding that this was the power he wanted. Neither of the other two powers would be able to compare to this one.

Looking at the shield, he saw a weird symbol on the front. He was about to look closer at it, but the shield disappeared in a flash of light. Before he could think longer about it, he heard the voice tell him to give something up. Looking over at the staff and sword, he walked over to the sword first and lifted it.

"The power of destruction. The power of the warrior...is this the-" Mob instantly picked the sword to give up. He didn't want a destructive power, and he did not want to be a warrior. As the sword vanished like the shield did, the pedestals sunk back into the platform as three small dark puddles appeared on the platform's surface. Looking over at them, Mob's senses alerted him about an incoming threat. The warning turned out to be valid as three of those black creatures that had attacked him months ago popped out.

The shield reappeared in Mob's hand which caught his attention. Grimacing at how heavy the shield was, he took a hold of the handle with both hands and smacked one of the creatures to the side as it leapt at him. Seeing another one moving towards him, Mob stretched his arm out and caught it with his telekinesis and tossed it off the platform. Looking at the last one, he looked down at his shield for a moment before he lifted it into the air with his telekinesis and sent it sailing at full speed towards the last creature.

As soon as it poofed away, Mob saw small steps illuminate in the darkness as another platform came into view. Looking at it, he began to walk towards it only to gasp as he felt a sharp pain in his left temple. As soon as he felt it, he could see everything around him begin to fade away while a large dark creature started to form above him.

Before it could do anything though, Mob's power erupted from his body as he began to fall backwards onto the platform. The next thing the creature knew, it was being torn to pieces as Mob stood there emotionlessly with his hair flowing around. Without saying a word, the entire void began to disappear and a pushing force hit Mob's body. This seemed to snap Mob back to his senses as he felt himself soar off the platform. It was weird though. He could have sworn that he saw another version of himself standing on the platform.

Mob's House

Mob shot up in his bed and let out a small gasp as he began to look around. Before he could gain his bearings, Dimple and Ritsu came barging into his room.

"Shigeo! Do you feel that?! Something's heading this way! And it is very dangerous...and it feels...dark...We need to do something!" Dimple shouted as he began looking around the room with a terrified look on his face.

"Nii-san, I...I don't know what this feeling is, but it feels awful. What are we going to do?" Ritsu asked Mob who looked back at his younger brother silently. After hearing them mention something dark, he closed his eyes and began concentrating on finding whatever was causing this insidious aura. It took only a couple of seconds, but it was there. Pure darkness. A cold, chilling feeling crept up his back as images of those creatures flashed through his mind.

As he continued feeling it, a flash of Xion passed through his mind. His eyes shot open and before anyone could react, Mob excused himself and rushed out of his house. Ritsu and Dimple looked at each other in concern before chasing after him.

Mob looked back and forth to see if he could find his friend. He wouldn't have seen her image in his mind if she wasn't here. And if she's here...then more of those creatures are here as well. He had to make sure she was okay before checking on the others.

Sadly, it seemed fate did not want him to go any further as five of the creatures shot up from the ground and stared him down. Mob looked back at them quietly before bringing his right hand up and in a repeat of what he did to Koyama, the creatures were sent flying and smashing into various poles, the sidewalk, buildings, etc before they all finally vanished. As soon as they were gone, Mob continued running. Anytime a creature would appear, he would used his telekinesis to destroy them.

The sky grew darker as he continued to run and the feeling he got grew even worse. Grabbing a pole, he almost collapsed from exhaustion, but he did his best to shake it off and continued on his way. Thankfully, he was able to glimpse Xion's cloak as he turned a corner. Unfortunately, she was sent flying by one of the creatures directly into Mob causing them to fall onto the ground and roll across the ground.

"M-Mob? What are...the Heartless!" Xion shouted as she quickly remembered what was happening. Jumping to her feet, she blocked a strike from another...Heartless(?) and pushed it away. Rolling out of the way of another attack, Xion turned and cut the Heartless down.

Seeing more advancing in Xion's direction, Mob quickly began to activate his powers only to stop as a light appeared in his hands. The light seemed to catch the Heartless's attention as they stopped attacking Xion. Thankfully, this allowed Xion to move in and quickly cut them down. Wiping her forehead, she sighed in relief before turning to see what they were distracted by...which resulted in her jaw dropping.

"M-Mob...you can wield a keyblade?" Xion questioned her friend as she moved towards him. A keyblade? So that's what they are called... Mob glanced down at the weapon in his hand. It definitely had a key-like form, but the design was vastly different from Xion's own keyblade...wait Xion.

Looking up at her, Mob gently grabbed her shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "Are you okay, Xion-san?" Mob asked her which seemed to surprise her. She looked away for a moment before looking back at him with a small smile.

"I'll be fine Mob. Don't worry. Things have been a little hectic for me recently, but everything will turn out for the better soon...We probably will not see each other for awhile though. I'm sorry Mob," Xion apologized as she looked away from Mob.

Mob stared back at her as he let her words sink in. She didn't seem okay, but she said that she was...and they will not see each other for awhile...Is something going to happen? Looking up, he was about to question her only to let out a small gasp as she embraced him in a tight hug.

Blushing lightly, Mob stood there as she hugged him. He wasn't sure what to do, and he was too stunned to respond. Before he had a chance to hug her back or say something, she released him and gave him a small smile.

"I'll miss you Mob..." Xion whispered before being enveloped in a portal of darkness. Mob was about to reach out to her, but the portal vanished. Almost immediately afterwards, an earthquake shook Seasoning City. Looking up, Mob's eyes widened slightly as he saw a large black orb.

99%

Mob felt his power about to explode from within as the orb grew closer, but before he could react; he felt that sharp pain in his temple strike him again. Collapsing to his knees, Mob found himself losing consciousness.

As his eyes closed, he could have sworn that he heard Xion's voice in his head again.

"I'm sorry Mob. I'm happy we got the chance to be friends, but I have to go now. You wouldn't understand it, but I have to help someone that I'm connected to. I'm glad I got to see you one last time before meeting with Roxas. You don't have to worry though. You will not remember me, but I will always be with you in your heart like you were always with me inside my own. Good-bye Shigeo."

He didn't know what it was, but a part of him attached itself to what she said at the end. He couldn't forget her...he wouldn't forget her! His inner power erupted in his mind as it began to detect memories of Xion being erased from his mind. As the power engulfed the memories, it began to mend the broken pieces and keep them in tact.

As Mob floated through darkness, he had one thought floating around.

"I'll find you Xion, Ritsu, Master, Dimple...everyone I'll save you."

[bubblemagician]

Merry Thneedmas Mads!

Eyy, I wrote this as my gift to @traveling-madness, I hope it isn't TOO out of character, I definitely took some liberties because I couldn't ask you or else the surprise would be ruined. That being said, I really hope you enjoy this despite it being extremely sad and depressing, but it was a very inspiring part of Clara's story and I'm happy I could get a chance to write her!

“Any progress on the Leandres case, Roberto? Anything- anything at all?” The redhead spoke with an urgency that was borderline manic.

“I’m sorry Clara, I’m following all the leads But-”

“You’re not trying hard enough! Don’t you understand, ABBY HAS BEEN MISSING FOR TWO WEEKS NOW!?”

Roberto winced at her voice and immediately Clara felt awful. She knew her fellow officers were trying their hardest to find Abby, it wasn’t fair to take out the stress of losing her best friend on them. Especially not in the middle of the late shift at the police station.

“I’m sorry…” She swallowed “I’m sorry, Roberto”

“It’s okay, Clara. I know this is hard on you. We’ll find her, okay?” Roberto gave Clara an encouraging nod “We’ll definitely-”

“Esther.” A voice commanded interrupting the two officers. Clara’s fists clenched hearing the Chief’s voice, she did NOT have the capacity to deal with him right now.

“Yes, Chief?” She answered througH gritted teeth.

“What’s the commotion here?” He leered at her. Roberto quickly stood from his desk.

“It’s nothing Chief Ruben! Officer Esther was just-” the man injected, trying to dissuade the much older man from Clara

“I didn’t ask for you to speak, Diaz. Get back to work. Esther, in my office now.”

Roberto gave Clara a hopeless look but Clara shook her head. It was ok, she’d get this over with and then continue to investigate what she could on Abby’s case. Sullenly she followed the crooked cop into his office.

“You’re distraught, Esther.” The chief took a seat at his desk and stared at her with a piercing look. Clara knew there was no sympathy in that gaze, only dishonorable intent.

“I’m fine” she answered automatically, folding her arms over her stomach.

“You’ve been acting up since the Leandres kidnapping.” He retorted “Don’t think I haven’t noticed an even sharper decline in your work, Clara”

Her skin crawled at the way he said her name, but she persevered “Nothing has affected my cases, SIR.”

In fact she had been flying through her paperwork so she could spend all her remaining time and resources to find Abby. Walter Ruben was BS-ing as usual, trying to put her down and degrade her.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’d better get back to my in tray-” she turned to leave

“Clara.” He said again in his sleazy tone “I’m watching you”

The officer clenched her fists “Yes, Chief.” And she left as quickly as she could to get away from the creep who was unfortunately her boss.

~

RRRRINGGG

Clara bolted up from bed at the sound of her phone. She blinked in the dark (it had to be past midnight) and reached for the device “Hello?”

“Clara? It’s Roberto.”

Immediately the cop Sat straight up in her bed, clutching the phone to her ear. “Any news??”

“Maybe? It’s just speculation at this point, technically I shouldn’t even be telling anyone-”

“What did you find, Diaz?” Clara’s heart was beating erratic, hoping, PRAYING for something- anything to find Abby.

“There was a kidnapping from the local elementary school and…”

Clara got up and paced around to keep herself from trembling “Go on”

“Well the witnesses say the man had a woman in the back of his car- fitting the description of Abigail Leandres”

Clara dropped to her knees, holding back a sob. Finally after combing through every lead she had gotten some sign that Abby WAS alive.

But she must have been in terrible danger.

“I need to find her” dropped out of her mouth as she pulled on a coat.

“Clara, you can’t! We’re working on it, don’t get involved, Chief is already hard on you, don’t give him another reason-”

“Send me the coordinates of the perimeter you’re investigating.” Was all she said before she hung up.

~

The cop made her way down the road in her police cruiser, alarms silent and lights off. She was technically off duty, if Rueben caught her using precinct gear off the clock she’d be in a world of trouble. She could usually weasel her way out of these kind of situations but the damn chief just had it out for her.

Besides, finding her best friend was the most important thing right now.

She felt an ache in her heart, remembering her entire childhood with Abby right there by her side. Always supportive, always caring, always there with a loaf of garlic bread when Clara was feeling down.

How the heck a cops best friend was kidnapped right under Clara’s nose made her stomach churn with anger at herself.

She HAD to get Abby back.

The cop scanned the dark homes, most lights were out, the occasional dog barked. But it was otherwise silent in this neighborhood. No signs of the missing child, and definitely no sign of Abby.

Wait what was that?

Clara perked her ears as she heard a thud, followed by a shrill cry. A child’s cry.

There was no way any kid would be awake at this hour. Clara jumped out the car, not even bothering to take out the keys as she crept up to the run down house ahead of her.

As she approached, she could hear the faint sounds of sobbing. Following the noise she saw the tiny grilled opening of the basement, mostly dark, but she could sense people in there.

Straining her ears to listen she crept towards the small gap. Yes, a child was crying and a voice snarled.

“Shut up!” Male, mid 40s possibly, definitely angry. “You had better keep quiet or I’ll cut that tongue straight out of your mouth!”

A door slammed and the kids voice quieted.

Clara felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise and fury seep throughout her. She was about to March up to the house and kick the crap out oc whoever was abusing this child when suddenly she paused.

“Shh…it’ll be OK.” A soft voice tried to comfort the child “Someone will come rescue us…”

Abby.

Clara’s vision blurred, and in a moment she was up on her feet, at the front door. Kicking it with strength she wasn’t aware she had, she entered the decrepit household.

“What the-” the voice from earlier was a filthy looking middle aged man, standing in front of a basement door, holding a roll of duct tape and glaring at the cop.

“This is the Police” Clara felt the words tumble out her mouth as she unholstered her gun and pointed it at the man’s face “Put your hands up”

The criminal looked daggers at Clara and promptly ran down the basement steps. Clara screeched and shot at his retreating back but the bullets missed as he made his way down. Clara raced after him.

“Stop! There’s no where for you to run!” Clara screamed out.

“Clara!?” Abby’s voice called out in surprise.

“HELP! HELP US PLEASE!” The child must have screamed with everything in its lungs.

“Shut up!” The man hissed and Clara’s heart stopped as the sickening sound of a rifle echoed and her fears were confirmed as she came across the freshly bloodied corpse of the small child laying at the bottom of the basement.

Clara looked up from the scene. The man was holding the rifle against Abby’s ribs, but his eyes were fixed on Clara.

“Let me go, or this one’s next” He growled at the officer.

“Don’t- don’t let him, Clara!” Abby pleaded, eyes looking desperately at her best friend.

The crook cocked his still smoking weapon, pushing it into Abby. Abby gave a whimper and shook her head at Clara.

Clara’s heart was thundering like a stallion. She stepped closer as adrenaline rushed throughout her veins. If only she’d gotten here half a second sooner.

“Alright!” Clara lowered her arm “Alright, I won’t hurt you, I won’t shoot. Just please… Please let her go”

Despite wanting to fight, in a hostage situation, she had to relent. And Abby’s safety was more important than getting justice for the deceased child at her feet.

The man wickedly stepped aside the cop, dragging Abby with him towards the staircase.

Having a clear path up the stairs, he finally shoved the frightened woman towards Clara.

“Abby!” Clara grabbed her in her arms. Abby’s clothes were ripped and covered in blood and dirt but the red head had never been more relieved to see her. “Abby! I’m-” a sob escaped her throat as she cried “Abby I’m so sorry I couldn’t find you”

Abigail clung to Clara, crying profusely as she tried to comfort her “You’re here now” she sobbed “You’re-”

The sound of Abby’s soothing voice immediately silenced as the CRACK of a bullet shattered through the air.

“Abby!? ABBY!” Clara screamed as Abby’s eyes widened in shock and pain as a bloom of fresh blood started to grow over her heart, soaking her shirt and Clara’s uniform in red.

The murderer stood at the basement stairs, grinning maniacally as Abby expired in Clara’s arms, eyes once so bright and full of life fading into a stony cold emptiness.

“Abby…” Clara’s voice broke “Abby please…”

But it was too late. She was gone.

Clara couldnt move. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe as everything around her seemed to close in, seemed to suffocate her as she slowly lost feeling in her body, sinking to the ground with what remained of her best friend for over twenty years.

Abby. Abby. Abby.

The image of her empty eyes was burned into Clara’s mind. She sat there for what seemed like hours.

But it was only a second. The sound of the murderer’s footsteps running up the stairs amplified in Clara’s ears.

HE killed her.

A gear switched within the cop and she was on her feet, racing after the killer. The pig, the damned murderer who took away ABBY.

Gun in hand, Clara was after him as he went out the house straight towards her cruiser.

“Stop! STOP!” She cried in an unearthly scream at the man. But he had no intention of being arrested. Jumping into the car, he turned on the ignition.

The sound of glass breaking into a trillion pieces followed the echo of the police bullet finding it’s way between the man’s eyes.

Clara stood on the driveway, glass shards ripping her bloodied uniform as the police glock smoked in her hands. The criminal was slumped over the steering wheel of her car, bleeding a puddle onto the dashboard.

Clara heard screams and gasps as the neighborhood seemed to wake up. Murmurs and voices, curious, frightened, aghast.

But the cop was frozen in place.

Sirens bared loudly as the police approached, but Clara was a world away.

“Clara…” Roberto’s voice reached her, but just barely. The younger cop had to pull her into an ambulance so the paramedics could look her over. But despite all the people surrounding her, Clara was numb.

Abby was lost forever. And she, Clara.

She’d Killed.

“It’s okay, Clara…” Roberto’s voice sounded “You tried your best, you stopped the murderer… He can never hurt anyone again… You’re a hero…”

Clara hardly listened as she saw medics wheel away the body of the child, the body of the crook. The body of her best friend.

If she was a hero… This certainly didn’t feel like a heroic win.

[your-dr-imagines]

Hello everyone! I’m extremely excited to be releasing my first Danganronpa imagine to you all!

This idea was a platonic prompt I came up with to get the ball rolling on this account!

I do apologize in advance for anything that is out-of-character or if my writing appears slightly messy throughout my first few imagines! I’m currently still getting used to writing these characters and writing such long imagines!

Very quickly, I’d like to shout out the beautiful mods of @@saccharinedanganimagines ! Not only did I receive amazing help and encouragement from Mod Ouma, but seeing the amazing writing of all mods inspired me to start my own account! Thank you all very much!

The following imagines occur partially before, during, and after the events of UDG. There is also a trigger warning for mentions of past abuse. Please be careful.

Warriors of Hope being found by an Ultimate Therapist!Reader

Masaru Daimon:

- Masaru isn’t too keen on joining you. After all, you're an adult. There's only a few that he felt he could trust and you weren't included.

- In the end, the only reason he does join you is that he accidentally became separated from Nagisa, Kotoko, and Jataro while traveling through an unfamiliar part of Towa City and you seemed to know the area rather well.

- He was distant at first, claiming that you weren't worth his full attention.

- Despite his words, you were able to see that facade and he, going against his usual nature, could sense that you were aware.

- It took the first two hours of the trek for him to warm up to you at all.

- The long journey across the city eventually became too much even for the former Li'l Ultimate P.E. and he was able to find his way onto your back, arms and legs latched around you.

- As he held onto you and listened to you open about yourself, he started to do the same.

- His words were confident at first as he spoke about his ultimate and how amazing of a leader he had been.

- It wasn’t until he accidentally wrapped his arms around your waist a little too hard that you could slowly piece together his story.

- The second the small gasp of pain escaped you, Masaru practically launched himself off your back and onto the ground, apologies seeming to fly out of his mouth at a mile a minute.

- He flinched away, his hands shook as you leaned down to reassure him.

- He became tense as you gently and slowly grabbed his hands, staring at you with large, uncharacteristically frightened eyes. He didn’t start to calm down until he realized what you were doing. You were trying to help him breathe.

- After managing to work with you through several breathing and grounding exercises, Masaru found his way onto your back once more.

- You didn’t say more than a few encouraging and soothing words as you continued to walk. It was worrying when no response was given, but with a turn of your head, it became clear.

- He managed to fall asleep against you, a soft, genuine smile on his face.

- You did your job once again.

Nagisa Shingetsu:

- It wasn’t an accident that you and Nagisa had crossed paths.

- You were a member of Future Foundation and had been asked by Komaru and Toko to join them in Towa City for the main purpose to help those four kids.

- The main problem was that you had been dropped off in the middle of town, far from the meeting point.

- Nagisa was able to recognize your wandering figure from the glimpses he was able to catch during your video call with the girls.

- Knowing your relationship and affiliation with the two, he was less reluctant to approach you and guide you to the base they had found and settled down in with the two other two adults.

- However, he seemed to step away when you revealed to him why you were in Towa City in the first place. The last thing he wanted was to have to talk to someone. That meant reliving everything.

- He was stubborn when he was sat down to talk to you. He wasn’t dense. He knew that you were supposed to help them, but he wasn’t much of an open person. He wasn’t ready to be so vulnerable around someone he didn’t know.

- It took almost an hour of coaxing for him to start talking about what he and the Warriors of Hope had done in Towa City.

- He shared with you how he knew and felt what they had done. He shared his guilt for killing his parents. How he still felt they deserved his love and respect.

- Through that, he slowly transitioned into talking about what his parents had done. As he spoke, his mask slowly faded, his calm and serious exterior breaking as he gripped onto himself and tears started to fall.

- You made him stop talking, gently collecting him in your arms as he cried. You could tell immediately that he didn’t talk about his problem like he really should have.

- You held him until he eventually tired himself out, curled up in your arms with tear-stained cheeks.

- You couldn’t tell, but he found himself able to trust you faster than he ever expected he could.

Kotoko Utsugi:

- You had first met Kotoko during the children’s attack in Towa City. She had been out in the city after hearing a report about some type of problem from the Monokuma Kids and stumbled upon you struggling to pull your leg out from a large piece of rubble.

- She considered killing you at first. You were a demon and she had a job to do. However, your “absolute adorableness” became a deterrent to that. She briefly considered bringing you back to the base and possibly join the other, rather awful, servant they had.

- She eventually left both you and the thought alone, not seeing any real reason to help you or take you along.

- Your paths crossed again when the attacks finished. While the four Warriors of Hope were traveling towards the new base they had picked out, Kotoko spotted you as you limped across the street.

- Her hesitation was clear at first. She knew that she was responsible for the extent of your injury, but her trust in adults couldn’t just suddenly start again.

- When she realized that she was almost left behind by the others, she yelled for them to stop with a pout and ran over to you.

- When you finally saw her, you quickly recognized her, both from your previous encounter and as one of the children that had run the entire war between children and adults.

- Just taking a glance at her and the three other children that stood a bit behind her, you could quickly notice the signs of abuse. Of course, you didn’t mention it at first.

- Kotoko took to talking your ear off after deciding with Nagisa, Masaru, and Jataro to take you along for now.

- It wasn’t until several hours after settling down in one of the rooms in the building that you managed to sit her down and talk to her.

- She may have been a kid and most definitely not as intelligent as Nagisa, but she could see what you were trying to do as you asked her about things like her hobbies and school. She had seen this kind of thing plenty of times in books and movies.

- She was resistant to your efforts to open her up and help her at first, but even Kotoko at her most stubborn time couldn’t fight against your talent. Without knowing what was happening her was shakily recounting everything she had been forced into.

- She had been the one to initiate to embrace as she started to shake and cry, launching herself into yours, barely remembering that you were an adult.

- After almost fifteen minutes of being soothed by you, she drifted off to sleep, seemingly peaceful. It seemed you were someone she could really trust.

Jataro Kemuri:

- You and Jataro went to farthest back among the four Warriors of Hope.

- While times were still peaceful, you had seen Jataro at Hope’s Peak Elementary during a sort of talent show that was being held, showing off the talents of the students. Being a student/alumni of Hope’s Peak Academy, you had been invited.

- The interaction was short and not exactly sweet. The few minutes you interacted with the Li’l Ultimate Art primarily consisted of you complimenting and praising his art skill while he seemed more than intent in confirming that you hated him.

- Your next encounter was about two years later in Towa City.

- After the attack, Future Foundation sent an alert of another ultimate in the city to Komaru and Toko. In response, they gave the kids the job of finding them. Jataro was quickly assigned the job.

- He found you relatively quickly, though he wasn’t sure if he saw that as a good thing.

- You were worried for a moment, still a bit wary around any of the children in the city. It took you a moment to recognize the boy. What gave it away for you were his eyes.

- Jataro was able to recognize you rather quickly. He was slow, but he was an artist. He memorized details easily. That included everything about you.

- He was able to remember how you had been so intent and sincere with your compliments. He was able to see that you weren’t bad. You weren’t like the people that hated him and that was good.

- He wasn’t particularly talkative as you walked, but he would respond if you ever spoke to him.

- The transition to talking about his past was smooth. You had brought up the talent show, asking him about why he had been so intent on you hating him and how it seemed to switch.

- His words were slow as he talked about her and how she always made him hide his face. Everything that she had done.

- You carefully picked him up and set him on your hip as you walked. His feelings made so much more sense now that he revealed more about himself.

- He didn’t seem to be extremely emotional about it, but the tears making his eyes shiny were extremely clear and revealed his true feelings about it.

- He stayed settled against you as tears slowly and silently fell.

- He fell asleep that way to your gentle words of comfort and encouragement.

[officialheroesofolympus]

Defend (Peter Parker x reader)

HeroesOfOlympus: Heyyy y’all! It’s been far too long since I’ve last updated a fanfiction and I apologise for that. I’m kind of proud of this idea and I spent quite a while writing, and editing this. It’s still crappy like any other fanfic I’ve written but I kind of like it.

Description: Mad at Flash’s relentless teasing of Peter at the party, you break out of your shy and quiet shell to speak up for your best friend, Peter. During your banter with Flash, he purposefully addresses your obvious crush on Peter. After that, Peter confronts you about Flash’s words and something both of you have longed for finally happens.

Reader Gender: Female

Characters/Ships: Peter Parker x reader, Flash, Ned, mention of Liz

Rating: PG

Warnings: Slightly descriptive kissing, horribly written insults and the word ‘penis’ repeated

Y/E/C: Your Eye Colour

The pounding music suddenly faded away into the background and the obnoxious repeats of ‘DJ Flash’ came to a screeching stop. Curious as to why Flash had abruptly stopped playing the music, you turned towards the makeshift stage where he stood upon. The moment your eyes fell on his face and you saw the mischief dancing in his eyes, you knew trouble was soon to arise.

“When I say penis, you say Parker!” Flash laughed maliciously as his voice vibrated throughout the room. With a sneer on his face and a triumphant smirk, the crowd of students obeyed his instructions. Soon enough, the whole room of students was chanting the word ‘Parker, thoroughly enjoying ganging up on Peter and supporting Flash. 

Although some of them still looked down on Flash for being a geek, the student body never took down the chance to taunt someone, especially when it came to Peter Parker. Some pupils were also slightly angry at Parker for making up lies that he knew Spiderman as he made those who believed him look like complete fools for even choosing to trust him. 

Flash continued to chant, his ego gradually inflating as the many voices chanting Peter’s surname slowly became louder and louder. Soon, the room seemingly shook from everyone’s shouts and the echoes of Peter’s defiled name filled the house. With the adrenaline pumping, Flash began to raise his hands up in the air, egging the teenagers on.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Ned, one of your close friends, talking with somebody on the phone, no doubt Peter. You could see that Ned was as frustrated as you were with the whole student body mocking Peter but you could also tell that he was more upset with Peter not following through Ned’s plan to become popular. 

Sighing, you ran your fingers through your hair as you thought about Peter, your best friend. You knew he was Spiderman, he had told you when he first crafted this new persona for him to take on, knowing that you were understanding and would support him through everything. 

Even though he had that constant nagging fear that you might be hurt because of him and his second life as a superhero, he knew you would figure it out sooner or later. Plus, he was really bad at keeping secrets from you, which was understandable since the two of you had been friends since Preschool.

That was the thing between you and Peter, you both had absolute trust in one other. You had each other’s backs ever since you met and there was an unbreakable bond between the two of you. Even if you were held at a gunpoint, you would never stop being best friends with the boy, and vice versa. 

That was why you couldn’t stand by and listen to the taunts of Peter when you knew you could do something. Gathering up all the courage you had, you took in a deep breath as you clenched your fists till the knuckles turned white, trying to plan out what to say and remain calm.

Unfortunately, your boiling anger got the better of you and before you knew it, it had erupted from you, making you unknowingly blurt out three simple words. “Shut up, Flash!” You managed to holler over the noise, and the chanting soon faded away, everyone shocked that you, Y/N the quiet and pleasantly nice girl, had actually shouted. 

Widened eyes were trained on you wherever you looked, accompanied by dropped jaws from several of the students. Getting over his initial shock of you actually speaking loudly and talking back to someone, Flash threw his head back in laughter, making your heart pump even harder in anger. 

Turning his attention back to you, Flash was startled to see your usual calm and slightly timid expression wiped away, replaced by something foreign on your face, which was anger. It was as if he could see the red boiling anger coursing through your veins that had made your eyebrows knit together, eyes harden and switch your signature kind smile with a thin line.

“Is someone mad that I’m calling their friend Penis Parker?” Flash taunted, putting on a childish voice that made several people laugh. Walking towards Flash, your boots thudded against the ground with each step you took, the crowd parting to leave you a straight line leading directly to the notorious bully. 

Once you stood a few metres away from him, you crossed your arms over your chest, the hard look still on your face. “On the contrary, I’m not mad.” You stated simply, training your narrowed eyes on the bully in front of you. Without even needing to look, you could tell that confused looks were being exchanged between the students around you. 

Sensing the confusion, you elaborated further. “I’m not mad because what you’re saying is true. Peter has a penis, although I can’t say the same about you since you have no balls.” The corner of your mouth tugged upwards as you smirked triumphantly at Flash, all the years of insulting Peter teasingly finally going to good use. 

Hearing a few sharp intakes of air around you, you grinned smugly as you took in Flash’s flabbergasted expression whilst also thoroughly enjoying the reactions you were receiving from everyone. Opening and closing his mouth repeatedly, Flash shook his head and you could see the gears in his head turning, trying to think of a witty remark to shoot back at you and win this argument. 

A slow conceited grin spread across his face and you swore you could feel everybody in the room, even those with front row seats to this drama, leaning forward and straining their ears to hear both of you, not wanting to miss out on any word being exchanged. “You know, Y/N, I don’t get you,” Flash started, still standing on his makeshift stage with the microphone in his hand. 

“You’re not that stupid and you’re not that bad looking.” He admitted begrudgingly, giving you a once over, his eyes trailing all over your body as you shivered involuntarily. “If you didn’t hang out with the biggest loser in the school, you’d actually be cool.” Jumping down from the stage, he approached you, microphone in hand as he came face to face with you.

Raising his eyebrows expectantly with a cocky smile stretched across his face, he waited for your reaction. “I don’t hang out with you though. So, I guess I am cool.” You shrugged, studying your nails as you maintained an utterly bored expression whilst internally enjoying the crowd cheering you on. Peering up from your nails, you arched a brow, staring down at Flash as you waited for his next comment. 

In a last desperate attempt to regain his honour and pride, Flash jabbed a finger into your chest, his face twisted in anger as he spat, “Why are you even defending Peter anyway? Is it because you’re hoping that by doing this, the guy would finally notice you as more than a friend? Don’t think I haven’t seen you stealing glances at the loser and envying Liz for the attention she’s receiving from Peter.” 

Heat rose to your cheeks and you felt absolutely mortified that Flash had just blurted out your longtime secret in front of practically the whole school. Tears gathered in your eyes and you wanted nothing more than to give in to the temptation to run into a corner and cry your eyes out. 

However, you were soon fueled by courage and anger once again, now even more furious with Flash for not only embarrassing Peter but you as well. He was nothing more than a bully and it was about time for someone to put him in place. Blinking away your tears, you had an almost maniacal laugh as you swatted away Flash’s hand. 

Pressing a finger against the boy’s chest, your nail dug into one of his many designer shirts, whilst your eyebrows drew together once again. “I’m defending Peter because he's my friend, and friends defend each other.” You hissed, reveling in the pleasant triumphant feeling that filled your body the moment you saw Flash’s annoyingly egoistic smile wiped off his face. 

“But you wouldn’t know what it’s like to have a friend, would you?” With that final statement hanging in the air, the right corner of your lips lifted upwards as you remembered a self-defense lesson Peter had taught you, leading you to unexpectedly punching Flash smack in the middle of his face. 

Despite the pain that had welled up in your knuckle the moment it had landed in the middle of Flash’s face, you couldn’t resist the growing grin on your face as you heard the satisfying sound of a bone cracking. Immediately, Flash clutched his nose, which had cracked, as he yelled incoherent curses and threats at you. 

Ignoring his pain and the guilt that was building up inside of you, you realised that everyone was staring at you and you felt uncomfortable under their intensive looks. Desperate to get the attention away from you, you turned abruptly on your heel, strutting out of the house with eyes filled with amazement focused on you. 

Swinging your legs back and forth, you enjoyed the peace and quiet surrounding you as you sat on top of the monkey bars in a playground that overlooked the river. After the whole fiasco with Flash, you didn’t feel like facing all the judgemental remarks and stares from the rest of your cohort, especially the pity glances you had seen on your way out. 

You hated those pitying looks. You knew that they only felt that way towards you because of what Flash had said about you and Peter. The only reassurance you had was that at least Peter hadn’t been there when everything had happened, you wouldn’t have had a clue of what to do if Peter found out you liked him, and not in a platonic way. 

Sighing, you tried to erase the night’s events and felt a little smirk crossing your face as you recalled the astonished look you had seen on Flash’s face when you had spoken up. Suddenly, you heard footsteps crunching against the withered leaves on the ground and your head shot up, your eyes wide in alert. 

Sliding down from the bars, you put your arms up as you shifted into a fighting stance, remembering what Peter had taught you. When you saw the familiar bright blue and red skin-tight suit, you sighed in relief, returning back to a relaxed position. 

“Peter, you scared me!” You grinned from ear to ear as your best friend tugged off his mask, a wide grin similar to yours flashing onto his face. Motioning for him to follow you, you both strolled side by side along the riverbank, your hands bumping against one another occasionally, making your cheeks tinge red.

Seeing that scrunched up look on Peter’s face, you knew he had a lot of things to tell you, most probably about his sudden mission, and you waited patiently for him to rant to you. Lost in admiring the view and enjoying the comfortable silence between the two of you, Peter had to clear his throat a few times to get your attention.

“You know,” Peter started, wringing his hands nervously as you focused all your attention on him, hearing the seriousness and nervousness in his voice. You were prepared for him to give a long frustrated talk on his mission, so what he said next had been quite a shock. “Ned sent me a video. From the party.” He continued, adding the location as an afterthought. 

Hearing those words, your immediate instinct was to bolt, run as fast and as far away as you could from Peter. However, before you could even decide if you should actually run, Peter slid his hand into yours, gripping it tightly. Thinking it was most probably because he didn’t want you to run off, you fought down the heat rising to your cheeks and nodded your head, waiting for Peter to continue. 

“Thanks for sticking up for me. I know how much you hate getting attention from others, so thank you.” Peter said softly and genuinely, squeezing your hand affectionately which made it even harder for you to stop the blush no doubt rising to your cheeks. Trying to hide your probably obvious blush, you tilted your head downwards.

“No problem, that’s what friends are meant to do, stick up for one another.” Grinning brightly again, your voice had unfortunately wavered on the word ‘friend’ and you inwardly felt yourself slowly shrivelling away in embarrassment, hoping that Peter hadn’t heard the hesitation in your voice. 

“Is friends just all we are?” Peter blurted, his cheeks turning even redder, eyes widening when he heard the words tumble out of his mouth as if he couldn’t believe he had actually said that. The instant you heard those words, trepidation began to fill you, constricting your chest and making it hard for you to breathe. 

Coming to a sudden halt, you tugged your hand out of Peter’s gentle grip, instantly missed the warmth of his hand in yours but you shrugged it off, remembering the predicament you were currently in. Taking a shaky breath, you took a few tries before finally whispering clearly, “You heard it, didn’t you.” 

Praying that Peter’s comment had just been offhanded and was a casual remark, you waited impatiently, rooted to your spot. Staring intently at Peter, he finally responded with a tiny nod of his head, you felt your whole world crashing down onto you. 

This was it. 

This was surely, no doubt, the end of your beautiful friendship with Peter. There would be no more laughter, no more teasing, no more of the once comfortable and easygoing relationship you two had. Instead, there would be awkward tension between both of you from now on and Peter would definitely detach himself from you, not wanting to get close to you as a desperate attempt to stop you from having a crush on him. 

And that was judging on the possibility that he still wanted to be friends. He might actually even stop talking to you, in hopes of getting away from a lovestruck ex-best friend. 

With the two horrifying possibilities in your mind, you wrung your hands nervously, taking a deep unsteady breath. “Look, Pete. Flash was just talking nonsense, as per usual. I don’t like you in that kind of way.” You lied fluently, giving a forced laugh. If it was anyone else, they would’ve believed you easily.

However, Peter wasn’t just anyone. He was your best friend and practically knew every single thing about you. Hence, your refusion to look at him gave it away that you were lying to him as he knew that you were probably feeling uncomfortable under his steady gaze on you.  

But what if he was wrong? What if he was reading you falsely and maybe this time, you were just feeling jittery under his intense stare and not because you were lying?

In that split second, Peter listened to those thoughts and the hopeful look on his face had completely disappeared, now taken over by a frown. His bottom lip quivered as his eyes flickered away from you before settling back into you again. Deciding to take his chances and risk everything, he prepared himself for what he was about o say.

“But what if I want you to like me in that way.” He managed to choke out after countless of attempts with beads of sweat slowly forming on his forehead. Awestruck by Peter’s sudden bravery and words, your whole body became rigid as you openly stared at him with your lips parted slightly, thinking to yourself that this was probably just a really good dream.

“I really like you, Y/N. I really, really do. And...” Peter’s eyes stared out into the distance timidly before shifting back to you again. “I really want you to like me too.” Biting the side of your lips, you tried to gather up the same courage you had found when you had confronted Flash and you drew in a deep breath. 

“I like you too, so much that it scares me sometimes.” You breathed, the short sentence causing the brightest grin you had ever seen on Peter’s face to appear. With the adrenaline rushing through his body, Peter boldly took a step towards you, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

Shyly, he whispered in disbelief, “Do you mean it?” Seeing the nod of confirmation, Peter cried out in joy, picking you up from the ground and spinning around with you in his arms. Giggling happily, you buried your head in the crook of Peter’s neck before he finally set you down.

With your arms around his neck and his around your waist, the both of you bashfully peered up from the ground, staring into each other’s beautiful eyes filled with nothing else but love and joy. Foreheads pressed against each other, you and Peter couldn’t help your faces from flushing at the close proximity.

The laughter had died down as the two of you were so focused and enchanted by the other person’s beauty that staring at each other was all you could both do at the moment. Suddenly, your eyes moved down from admiring Peter’s eyes and when you saw his lips, you couldn’t help but stare long and hard at it, dreaming about how it would feel against your own lips. 

Looking up from Peter’s lips, you caught the brunette doing the exact same thing you had just been doing, gazing longingly at your red painted lips. It seemed like the same thought had been running through both your minds as your grips on each other had tightened, forcing you and Peter to close the tiny space left between the two of you.

Heart hammering in your’s and Peter’s chest, you filled up the tiny gap between your lips, pressing your mouth against his. The kiss was better than anything you could ever dream of, it was soft and sweet, and the feeling that coursed through your body was unlike anything you felt before.

You felt complete, like a missing part of you had finally been given back to you. Fingers sliding up from Peter’s neck, your hands ran through his incredibly soft wavy brown locks as Peter deepened the kiss, pulling you even closer to him. The kiss was less soft than it was before but it was still filled with the same amount of love and care.

Pulling apart, you smiled bashfully whilst Peter beamed, clearly unable to hide his utter joy at the fact that he had finally just kissed you. Taking a strand of your hair, which had been dangling over and covering your gorgeous eyes, Peter tucked it behind your ear, his fingers smoothly going through your hair before stopping at the back of your head.

Cheekily, he moved your head towards him with the hand on your head and engaged you in another kiss. Unable to resist the growing smile stretching onto your face, you smiled against Peter’s lips as you continued to mold your lips with his.

Thank god for Flash Thompson being more obnoxiously conceited tonight.

(GIF belongs to @petersbackpack)

[acashgirl]

Untitled Marvel Project: Part 8

WOOO guess who doesn’t entirely have writers block? Me! So here I am turning out the next part. Enjoy or don't, and I’ll catch you on the flippity-flop!

(First) (Previous) (Next) (Index)

   Peter began to notice subtly differences in you when you two were together. You began to open up more and be positive about yourself. Always would there be self doubt but the fear was fading. At the time he became more busy with school activities and would apologize about his inability to be with you. This gave you spare time that you hadn't entirely wanted. You'd practice your ability on small items, books, rocks, a pinecone randomly placed upon the patio, and generally you were getting the hang of it. No longer was there drastic pain along your spine but a mild buzz that'd expand and shrink; the larger the item the more intense the pain but the more you'd mess with like sizes the less discomfort you'd feel. This ability you had was so peculiar. It caused you pain yet if you stuck with it it'd decrease and become bearable. The people surrounding you did not experience this type of struggle, a mental game yes, but not physical strain to this degree. Tony would badger you to train with them and even though you were becoming more comfortable with the idea you did not want to commit. The thought of a possible slip up with everything crashing down around you would cause nightmares and horrid daydreams. Wanda would come to you and sympathize as she understood the scary thoughts, she had gone through them too and still did sometimes. She would try and distract you with happy stories or watching a movie or even begin talking to you about Peter since everyone knew that’d make you feel better. It would generally work but she wasn't him. Him being gone left a weird feeling inside you, his radiating personality you were clinging onto was dimming in memory. It’d been about two weeks since you'd last spoke to him and since you didn't have a phone communication was a bit out the window. The thought of becoming addicted to the feeling you felt would teeter between acceptable or worrisome; Peter wouldn't stick around forever since he has his own life and you were not the majority, you couldn't be. Eventually you'd have to learn to cope by yourself and this was as good a time as ever.   There had been a strange noise from below the floor traveling up through the stairs. They sounded like grunts and yells but the building didn't seem on alert. Following the noise you found yourself in an oddly familiar hallway, it was the one you ran through to escape the possessed Vision. Heading toward the double doors your hands reached out and pushed through them revealing the expansive covered hangar. In the middle of the room you saw two people flipping around and striking each other, presumably sparring. Once the sound wave of the doors opening reached them they stopped immediately and turned in your direction. One was a middle aged man with shorter hair that spiked gently upwards while the other was a younger woman, back toward you, with shoulder length fiery hair. The woman you recognized from the childrens photos, how could you forget that red hair, while the man seemed familiar but not enough for you to know. “Oh, s-sorry.” Squeaked out. “It’s quite alright,” the man stepped forward, “What’s your name?” “That’s Y/N.” The woman clearly said. “So you’re the infamous girl.” “Infamous?” “We’ve heard a bit about you.” The woman now standing along side the man. “Oh…” You let out an awkward laugh. “I’m Clint, and this is Natasha.” He motioned toward her. “Hi- sorry to interrupt what you were doing, I just heard the noise and curiosity took the better of me.” “It’s okay, we were cooling down anyway.” Natasha smirked toward you. “That was cooling down?” “What can we say, we’re professionals.” Clint laughed. “I can see that. I wish I could flip around like that, but I’m not athletic.” You let out a chuckle. “You can always learn, it’ll just take a while.” She replied. “I should probably learn other things before I learn to flip around.” “Like what?” Natasha furrowed her brow while Clint looked at you. “Trying to master my issue, once that’s done then I can add in some acro.” You smirked. Both their faces relaxed and they gently smiled. “Well good luck with that. Let us know when you want to add in some choreography.” Clint happily said. You nodded and smiled to yourself, “I’ll remember that. I’m gonna leave you two to finish cooling down, sorry about that again.” Sheepishly rubbing your arm and turning back to the doors. “Don’t worry about it,” Clint exclaimed. “Good to meet you!” Natasha finished.   You made your way back through the doors and headed back up the stairs. As the kitchen came into view you could see Vision wandering about. You hadn't spoken to him much since the incident, not because you were scared but because you felt his shame about the situation. “Vision, hi.” You smiled warmly as he turned toward you. “Oh, hello miss Y/N, how are you today?” You breathed out, “Doing well thus far, haven't hurt myself yet.” He gently smiled, “Very good to hear, wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you.” “How are you Vision, really?” Taking a seat on the only stool you'd sit on. He stared into you seemingly contemplating if he wanted to be honest which you hoped he would be. “Please let me in.” Blinking toward the ground he sighed, “I am very sorry for what had happened that night, it was not me yet I was there. I was fully aware of what was happening but I was unable to prevent my actions. I've never felt so much hate in me and I never plan to again if I can stop it. These past few weeks I've been doing self reflection but I still can not determine what happened.” “Your gem, it had changed in appearance. What does it do?” “This?” He motioned to his forehead, “This is a-the mind stone.” “Mind stone?” “A being called Loki once housed it within his scepter. In his hand he was capable of controlling the minds of the unwilling. Once he was defeated it was transported to a S.H.I.E.L.D. location where it was smuggled away by sleeper agents. A man by the name of  Wolfgang von Strucker then used it for human experimentation with two survivors, Wanda and he brother.” Your brow furrowed, Wanda had a brother? “Once his lair was infiltrated the scepter was back into our hands until a being called Ultron appeared and stole it away. He was the one who built me and placed the stone upon my brow but that was for him, my body was for him. My friends got possession of my body, Thor gave me life, and now I’m here.” “Is there only one?” “Only one mind stone, but there are six stones in total, the infinity stones.” “Are they all within beings?” “No. They are spread throughout the universe if not universes. Recently though they've been appearing more and more sporadically causing for concern.” Confusion crossed your face, “Concern? Why is that?” “I do not know but it feels dangerous.” Silence crossed the room and thoughts rushed through your brain, is Vision in danger? Are they all in danger… Are we all in danger? “Does it scare you?” The confusion now crossed his face, “The thought of death or the stone itself?” You shifted awkwardly, “Either I suppose.” “I hope to understand the stone, I do not fear its power but what others would do with it as Loki had. The thought of death though… if I die I will feel no difference, I have no fear. But the death of the ones I care for, that is what causes true fear.” It was hard to hear emotional changes in Vision as he spoke similarly a majority of the time yet this was different. It sounded more sullen and raw and he was scared. And why wouldn't he be? They're basically his family and without them he'd be alone in this world. Who else would understand him like them? He appeared subtly upset now, looking toward the ground refusing eye contact. Slowly you pushed yourself away from the stool and made your way toward him. He remained in the same position either lost in his own head or uncaring of what you were doing. Closing in on his tensed body you gently placed your hand around his wrist and grasped on. Still looking down he began to relax into place and closed his eyes. “Thank you Y/N, a sense of care radiates off you.” You smiled to yourself, “I try,” quietly laughed out. He inhaled deeply and opened his eyes, you could see the outside reflecting off his glossy view. Still not looking at you a small smile danced upon his lips and you softly squeezed his wrist before releasing your grip. “Vision I don’t think Wanda would appreciate you canoodling with Y/N.” Tonys face coming into view from an opposing hallway. “You have the most impeccable timing Tony.” You shot in. He smiled and Vision directed his gaze at him, “Canoodling?” “Yeah it’s when you… Well it doesn’t matter right?” “Do you even know the definition of ‘canoodling’?” Eyebrow raised. “Of course I do, I’m a genius!” “Mhm, of course.” Your smirked and walked behind Vision to pass up Tony whose head followed you. “Oh Y/N I had a question for you.” Turning on your heels you look back at him, “What?” skeptically slipped out. He smirked, “I’ve noticed you've been practicing your powers more, how about some combat?” “I don’t know-” “No pressure of course, but I believe it’d be beneficial.” Raising his eyebrows at you. “Am I going to be stopping a concrete beach ball again?” “I was thinking of a specific person, someone who’d be a challenge.” “Please tell me your not talking about yourself, I could easily slip you out of your suit.” “He is not Miss Y/N, I do believe he is unfortunately speaking of Wanda.” “Bingo!” Tony pointed a finger at Vision, “You win front row seats to the fight of the century!” “She would never agree-” “Unlike you she enjoys pushing her limits.” “So she's already agreed then.” Your eyes widened a bit as you stared past his torso. “Yup, and she's excited.” “Tony I do not believe this to be a good idea.” Vision spoke up. “Wanda won’t hurt her, she can control herself.” “I understand but it is not Y/N I am worried for.” “You think Y/N would kill Wanda?” “Practicing particlization on silverware is not the same as war weapons or a person.” “She wouldn’t particlize Wanda-” “How are you so sure?” Tony stammered something that neither of you could make out, as if he was stopping himself from confessing a secret. “I am just saying that this does not seem of a good idea.” “Wanda could handle anything thrown at her.” “Are you so sure?” “You guys remember I’m still here.” Whispered out of your near swollen throat. Vision turned his attention toward your blank face, “I do not mean to upset you Y/N I am just trying to reason with Tony. You yourself do not seem comfortable with the idea.” You blinked a few times and looked toward him, “I-I would like to try.” “You would?” Tony questioned, shock lying in his undertones. He came into your sight, “Y-yes. I want to try.” Tony looked at Vision then back at you, “Excellent!” He exclaimed. You could feel Vision staring into you but you did not face him. The discouragement he sent flowed through your body causing you to shiver and roll your head. “We’ll schedule for tomorrow, wear something you're comfortable being thrown around in.” You pulled a smile, “I only have like four items of clothing.” “Right,” He furrowed his brow, “I’ll send someone for something.” You nodded emptily, the fake smile still plastered on your face. “I have some calls to make, so I’m gonna head this way,” he pointed down a different hall, “Don’t stress to much, and get some sleep Rocky, preferably in your actual bed.” A glimpse of real joy ran through your smile and you let out a small laugh. With that he turned and walked down the darkening hallway. “Miss Y/N are you sure about this?” You sighed still looking into the darkness, “I’m not sure of anything anymore Vision.”

[mosmindmanifested]

The Haphazardous Meanderings of Intoxicated Youth

When I reflect on some of the times I struggled the most in life, I remember being plauged by an endless anxiety. Like I was a character in a Kafka novel. The outside world seemed dystopian, people seemed alien, and no matter what I was doing, I was only partially doing it, because I could not take my mind off of worries and anxieties of the future. I credit this partially to the fact that I grew up in a single parent family of low socio-economic status. Thoughts of class disparity were ceaseless, all that mattered was escaping what I percieved to be the shameful circumstance of living in government owned housing. My mother would not shy away from reminding me of the financial circumstance that we were in. I cultivated a sense of indebtness to her. I lived for her. And what she wanted me to do most was to go to university and get a great career. I supressed my inner voice, but no matter how much I tried, it would express itself in alternative avenues. I would write poetry, smoke weed excessively and dress like a modern bohemian. That was what I was becoming. School was not for me, especially 'Psycholingustics', but I was not to become a loser marijuana merchant like those I lived amongst in the government housing project (funny enough, I later became just that, but with the illusion of grandeur associated with working at a marijuana dispensary). At the time I was also conflicted with my religion. I was born and raised following Islam. The notion of heaven and hell flashing across the screen of my mind everytime I would roll a joint. Shame, especially existential shame, is a formidable poison. My relationship with my father was not great either. After not living with my family for the first 18 years of my life, he had returned, and this time indefinetly. All the years of feeling abandoned, neglected, not loved, a second priority, would have to be put aside if I were to live in peace with this guy. So I avoided him (which is pretty hard to do in a tiny 3 bedroom town house). With all the chaos and aimlessness surrounding my experience of emerging adulthood, I still felt that I was superior to most of my peers. Every time I meant someone I would size them up. "Okay this guy make more money than me, but is he as well read?" "Alright this guy might be able to deadlift more than I can, but he sure as hell is not as sexually successful". I was never as uncomfortable than the times I was around someone that I felt had me "completely beat". Looking back, the metrics that I would compare with others became so granuler and ridiculous that it is hilarious to look back at: "yea that dude probably has a small dick, not a threat at all". I truley believed myself to have no control over the course of my life. The one thing that was supposed to occupy most of my attention, the thing I was supposed to be passionate about and make a living through, was dictated by the will of another. I was living a lie. I was living a life not true to myself, and I suffered accordingly. Things shifted dramatically when I slowly diassembled the spell cast on me. Starting first with forgiving my father for his absence, there was no way I could live a sane and peaceful life otherwise. Second, I dropped out of university. There was no way I was going to become a speech pathologist, and everyone around me knew that. The pain of 'not being in line with my peers' ate at me at first, but slowly subsided. I humbled myself. I took a job as a cashier at a health food store and delivered food on a bike with Uber. Delivering with Uber was pretty Zen. I spent hours at a time on the road with nothing to think about, no stimulus coming in other than the navigation system on my phone. It was somewhere during the countless hours of doing this mindless task that my first vision hit me. I WAS TO BECOME A NATUROPATH! Immediately I began researching all the different paths on how to become a Naturopath, and was quickly disenchanted when I realized the countless years of education that I would have to complete (including going back to finish highschool science credits that I neglected to take when I was 16). So I compromised my vision. I was now to become a Traditional Chinese Medicine practitioner? The whole thing seemed awkward, and it was reflected in the ambivalence I showed towards the whole thing. After signing up for TCM school, I dropped out in the first week. What was next? I liked lifting weights, so why not make a career out of it? I quickly got certified as a personal trainer. The goal, being influenced by my past ambitions of becoming a Naturopath, was to become a Holistic Health Coach. I would create a unique practice that integrated both fitness and holistic nutrition / herbal medicine. I got my first job as a personal trainer a month after being certified, and I realized how much I hated it. Clients were unmotivated, trainers would do whatever it took to retain clientele (even if that meant making them dependent on them). I felt like I was dealing marijuana again, except this time it was the promise of a six pack and a sexually desirable body. Throughout this time I would work as a barista. I landed a job at an independent coffee shop in the city and was making good money and having fun doing it. I would wake up every morning at 5am to be there by 6:30, open the shop independently, and spend the rest of the time making lattes, jamming out to my independently curated playlists, and reading when it got quiet. I loved this job. When I reflect on it it must have been the best job I have had to date. The weak dream of becoming a holistic health coach was beginning to fade into the recesses of my mind, I was complacent where I was, and I was looking forward to renting out my first apartment in the city with all the money I was making (tips were ridiculous). Until one day... the owner and I get into a conflict. He wants things done in a very particular way, a very VERY particular way, and my fragile ego cannot take the onslaught of criticsm and admonishment. In the middle of one of his speeches, I quit; tears pouring down my face as I tell him that I cannot meet the demands he is placing on me. He was a good man. He gave me an opportunity in a time in my life where I needed it. A month prior, my family home burned down. The only possesions I had was the turtle neck I wore the night of, a pair of black chinos, and red basketball shoes. Living out of a hotel that the City of Toronto geberously financed, I reached out to him on my sisters laptop when I saw he was looking to hire a new barista. I came to our interview in the only outfit I had, and he accepted me, regardless of the dishevled apperance and stench of desperation. Losing that job was like losing a part of myself. Like losing a good friend. I made a vow to myself that day: that I would no longer rely on anyone for anything, and even if it killed me, I would create something for myself. Back to ground zero. Nothing to do but the acid I bought a week prior, and reading Steve Jobs' biography. Hallucinating on a micrdose of LSD and going 30km/hr on my bike one evening it dawned on me.... an idea like no other. And for the first time in my life, it was one I really believed I could make possible. To the drawing board I went until I fonally hashed out an vision that I was proud of, one that I will materialze. What is that vision you ask? You will have to wait and see my friends :) Namaste