#p:mina

tw: brief mention of anxiety symptoms

He manages himself well.

Most people never expects someone like him, the fearless leader of rookie heroes, to struggle with anxiety. It frustrates him that even if he can function fine, it’s always lingering underneath the surface of everything he does. All he can do is manage himself the best he can: he practices his breathing, he sees his own therapist once every week, he eats as healthy as he can, he gets plenty of superhero exercise, and he never misses a morning dose of medication.

But sometimes, you do everything “right” and still have your moments.

The subway begins crowding and he’s the first to offer his seat to an elderly woman. Out of all the kids playing on their phones, none of them had the courtesy to give up their seat? What is this world coming to? He shakes his head with a small smile as the subway starts, and things are fine for the first few minutes.

Then out of nowhere, it goes downhill. 

His hands feel clammy around the pole he holds onto, but his grip tightens because his legs feel like jelly. Sunggyu feels his heart pounding harder. More and more people crowd onto the subway. Good lord, he hopes nobody talks to him. All of his breathing and muscle techniques escape him as he fumbles through the front pocket of his backpack. He finds a small, orange container filled with pills and topped off with a white cap. A small dosage of Klonopin usually calms him down before the anxiety really wreaks havoc. The subway starts, elbows jostle his arms, and white pills shower down like raindrops. He gets apologies and worried faces, which he responds to with breathless "It's okay"s and “No, I know it was just an accident”s!

His eyes squeeze shut; he doesn't want to start crying. 

Schala strolled down the blocks near the Cityspire, taking in the scene around her. The city was nearly fixed and, perhaps, had grown even better now that the Atlanteans had set foot. Over the past few days, she had watched them, observed them as she always did. The more she watched the people, the Temen rebels, thrive on land, the more guilty she felt about her actions. It was a relief to know that she had been pardoned, though that still did not stop the resentment she felt in the air of those she was around. If it got worse, she almost wished she had been locked up inst-

Schala stopped in her tracks, eyes clouding as a vision came to mind.

Smoke. Flashes of light. The city once again in chaos. An Atlantean army with the faces of her former leader’s comrades.

Penny liked working the late shift at Common Grounds. Working at the coffee shop was a dream come true. The money wasn’t great, but it was enough to pay for necessities and, rarely, some bauble or treasure from one of Birchwood’s small stores. It was the people, the smell of fresh blueberry muffins being made, and the soft ding of the register as it slid open that filled Penny’s heart with joy. It was the little things  that made her so grateful for Birchwood.

She’d had many jobs in the last few years. Truth was, it was hard to find a job without a high school diploma, so the jobs she had managed to snag were the ones nobody else wanted. Night janitor, short order cook, dishwasher. She’d employed her old philosophy: grin and bear it. Even when her hands were chapped and her fingers stung from strong cleaners or hours over a hot stove, Penny chose to be happy about it. She had to. 

But this job was better than the others. Sometimes, she didn’t even have to grin and bear it; she could just grin. 

Rachel had no intention of attending the formal dinner. Her head was still spinning from the thoughts that couldn't get out. In the end, she had forced herself to go just for her own sanity. The whole night, she stayed in her own personal corner, hoping no one would notice or approach her. The last things she wanted were: to talk to people, have them ask about her problems and have Ivan see her. She was acting way out of line and she knew people caught onto it easily. For the remainder of the party, Rachel continued her little game of evasive action, avoiding certain people and remaining out of sight.

From a young age, Daria had always pushed against the boundaries people had laid before her and labeled as acceptable. Playing with her brothers as a child rather than learning how to be a kept woman. Learning how to sow up skin rather then fabric. And now it was her friendships. It was a test of the limits, one she was sure her family, or the Queen in particular, would not appreciate. For she was a bastard, not a highborn. A woman, not a man. All facts she'd accepted and discarded with a smile.

trauma: our characters going through a traumatic experience.

{Note: This is going to be a totally AU thing where the mansion was blown up by warfare between mutants and humans~}

"Everyone take cover!" 

Screams, sirens, and wails merged into a single soundtrack as Minho ran across the school grounds, a herd of students following him as he kept a forcefield of light going above their heads. Several hard chunks of rock ricocheted off of the forcefield, jarring the mutant’s bones as he felt the shock of each impact. 

The Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was attacking. Minho had to admit that he didn’t see that one coming. 

The best surprises are the ones that you don’t, well, see coming.

Now only several meters away from their destination, Minho heard a loud cry pierce the air. With a jolt of realization, he recognized Mina’s voice. WIth a renewed sense of urgency, Minho dashed up to the entrance to the Danger Room and quickly authorized his entry. “In! Go!” As soon as the last student of the group disappeared inside, Minho closed the doors again and went to look for his student. 

"Mina! Where are you?" Eyes frantically scanning his surroundings, Minho barely reacted in time as a firebomb exploded several meters away from him, using the light to safely teleport himself to a safer distance away from the explosion. Overhead, he thought he could hear a sinister laugh.

As the laughter subsided, a weak cry reached Minho’s ears. Thinking quickly, Minho absorbed the light rolling off of the fire, and used it to make a large shield above his head. Meanwhile, he started forwards, eyes picking up a slight discoloration in what appeared to be a pile of rocks. 

Another explosion crashed into his shield, making Minho grit his teeth. Later. He would fight whoever was up there later. Right now, his first priority was getting to Mina and carrying her inside.

Finally, after a slew of missiles that tore parts of his shield apart, Minho reached the pile of rocks. He barely kept in a cry of dismay as he saw Mina trapped underneath the rubble up to her waste. 

"I-I can’t feel my legs, sun-seng nim,” Mina whispered. 

Minho was already working on moving the rubble away with both his light and his hands, momentarily dropping the shield. He had to be careful; one false move could further injure Mina. “I’m almost done, Mina, hold on,” he said determinedly. Finally, he caught a glimpse of Mina’s tattered jeans.

"I-is my back broken?" 

"Please be quiet and let me focus, Mina," Minho murmured. This really was not something that he wanted to think about right now.

Thankfully, she stayed silent.

After a while, Minho was finally able to clear all the rubble off of her. Gently, Minho took one of her arms and slung it over his shoulders. “This might hurt a little,” he cautioned. Trying to be as careful as he could, the teacher picked up his student and held her close to him. He quickly absorbed what light he could from the fires that were still blazing on the school grounds, and, with one fast spurt of energy, teleported them to the door of the Danger Room. Quickly, Minho got the door to open and a second later, loud bangs and the blaring heat became but mere memories. 

Minho looked back down at the girl in his arms. Mina’s head had lolled back, and with a flare of panic, Minho thought that she was dead. After a quick affirmation that she had a heartbeat, however, he felt himself calm down. 

As the student worked on their lab reports, Minho sat still in his chair, back straight and leaning slightly forwards over his laptop to show any student who looked up that he was on full alert of the going-ons in the room. They were approaching the middle of the period now, and the mutant hoped to have the report wrapped up within the next five minutes. Then, they could move on to their next unit, which Minho thought to be the most exciting part of their curriculum: testing on their own DNA. 

Of course, any testing actually done on their genetic coding would result in minimum yield. They were just teenagers, after all, not actual scientists. Even so, it would be fascinating to poke around your own blood and see what was in it. Thank god for Xavier's high-tech laboratories.