#SHE'S SO STUPID [VIBRATES WITH UNKNOWABLE FEELING]

[monimolimnion]

I SAW EARLIER AND I LOST MY MIND.

voice data was found btw

AnHane accidental confession BTW

[remember-to-be-gentle]

Subject: BNHA, Dabi aka Touya Todoroki

Title: House Party Bully 4 (NSFW, fem reader)

Trigger Warning: Non con, pregnancy, (accidentally) induced labor, drinking, smoking (weed), obsession, possessive behavior, forced marriage, dick piercings, family trauma, voyeurism, drunk kisses, jealousy

“Avoid,” Touya said slowly, finally, “the others when you can.” It was obvious advice, especially after what his siblings had done to you, but you just nodded and laid on his bed. He glanced at you and sat down beside you. For a moment, you thought he’d rub your back or pet your hair, but he pushed you onto your side, forcing you to face away from him. “Laying on your side is better for the baby.” 

Right. Even if Touya was, arguably, better than the rest of his family, he was just like them: only after the fetus growing inside you and the things that came with it. Milk, whatever prestige fucked up rich families like these got with grandkids, and ownership over you. 

“I’ll get a job,” Touya added suddenly, “a good one, then we can move out.” 

We. The word felt like an umbilical cord around your throat, connecting you to him and the baby you didn’t want. You were choking. But you needed him. Just as much as he wanted you to need him. “Don’t worry about moving out,” you mumbled into his sheets, “I’m sure your father wouldn’t let us.” 

Touya twitched beside you. He seemed to be thinking because he was quiet for a long moment. The mattress caved closer to you. “Hey,” he said, voice soft, “you didn’t like my dad better, right?” 

Something cold washed down your body. Every muscle from your head to your toes froze and curled in on themselves. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You felt him roll over, his back nearly pressed against yours, heat soaking through your shirt with unwanted comfort. He was silent for a moment, like he’d rather drop the subject, but then pushed on to say, “You didn’t like him better when he fucked you, did you?” 

With as much ice as you could muster you replied, “I didn’t like it when either of you assaulted me.” 

That seemed to rile Touya up because the bed shook with the weight of him leaping off it. He grabbed your arm, forced you onto your back, his grip bruising. “I didn’t assault you!”

“Then what would you prefer to call it Touya?” You glared at him, the ice in your body replaced with insufferable heat. “Rape? Teaching a rat a lesson?” 

He backed off at that. “No, it was...” He bit his lip. “Forget it.” 

He made for the door and your rage washed away with panic. “Where are you going?” You may have hated him, but you needed him to keep the hungry mouths of his siblings off you. 

Touya stopped in the doorway and sighed. “I’m going out. The others won’t bother you if you stay in here.” He started to close the door behind him and stopped, one cerulean eye locking onto you. “If you need anything, you can call me.” 

You wanted to say something back, something biting and cruel, but the ugly truth was that he’d saved you and you needed him. Your throat was tight when you said, “Okay.” 

The door shut. 

You laid back on your side. How did Touya bullying you turn into this? You were both just college students and suddenly you’d been roped into his fucked up family and forced to have his fucked up baby. There was a little him inside you. The thought made you sick to your stomach, but you laid there and held onto the sheets that smelled like your captor. The safest Todoroki. What an ironic thought. It was like calling him the least poisonous snake: regardless of which one sunk their teeth into you, you weren't coming out unscathed.

At some point you must have fallen asleep because you were startled awake by your phone ringing. You were too groggy to check the ID and answered. “Hello?” Your voice was weak from disuse. 

“Did I wake you?” Ice ate your bones when you heard the voice. Deep baritone and stone cold. Enji Todoroki continued, “Sorry. I managed to pull some strings with a friend of mine to keep this quiet. Long story short,” he paused, “welcome to the family Mrs. Todoroki.” 

Every word, every reaction, every thought vanished into a vacuum, a vacuum named shock. He’d done it. Any hope of escape after the baby was born vanished just like that. You were branded with his name just as your body would never be the same after it delivered his baby. You couldn’t even muster up the strength to hang up the phone. 

“Rei and I,” Enji continued as if he hadn’t just destroyed your future, “are on our way home now. I’ve got another doctor’s appointment scheduled tomorrow.” 

You didn’t reply.

“We’ll able to find out the gender of the baby,” he said, “Rei’s eager to know but Touya might prefer the surprise. Do you have a preference?”

The blank space that held your feelings erupted. Your preference? Now he cared about your fucking preference? Fuck no. Fuck that. You screamed and hung up, throwing your phone across the room into a pile of dirty laundry. You wanted to punch Enji in his stupid face. You wanted to kick Touya in his breeding balls. You wanted to... You screamed again and this time tears streamed down your face. Defiance leaked out of you with every sob. You were trapped. 

*******************************************************************************************

For the next four and a half months it felt like Enji was keep you away from Touya. He dragged you from appointment to appointment, insisting you stay in your room. Thankfully the other three hadn't so much as knocked on your door, but that didn't ease your anxiety in the slightest.

As your belly grew rounder it became harder to attend classes without people gossiping, especially with Enji by your side. When you couldn't fit into your desk one day it hit you that you'd have to balance Touya, school, and a needy baby. Suddenly you weren't so sure you wanted to attend classes in person.

It didn't help when you could feel it, yes it because Enji had decided to withhold the baby's gender, kicking inside you. It hurt. It was like being bullied by Touya all over again. The thought made you want to cry, but you were in class and simply bit your lip. The baby kept kicking.

After you got home from school, there was a note on the kitchen counter. "Out of town for Shouto's jujutsu match. Back Monday - Enji." The house was empty. You had the Todoroki manor to yourself. Was this your chance to run, while they were all gone?

But the front door opened. Touya stumbled in with his friends behind him. He looked at you, snarled, and walked away.

Toga smiled at you. "We're having a party tonight, feel free to come and bring your friend, too!" She pointed at your swollen belly and giggled following Touya.

Shigaraki and Spinner barely nodded at you. Twice gave you a thumbs up.

So this was how Touya got away with his parties.

But still the party could be your escape. A million cars on the lawn and—

You doubled over grabbing the counter to hold yourself steady. Throbbing pain burst around belly button as the tiny Todoroki inside you reminded you of it's presence. The baby could come any day. And then where would you go? Even if you ran you'd be alone, almost due, without any of your things: including the funds needed to simply give birth. No wonder Enji was comfortable taking off: you didn't have another option to leave without endangering yourself or the baby. Fuck.

Grabbing a snack you went back to your room and went to sleep.

*******************************************************************************************

Pounding base ripped you from your dreams. Each vibration traveling down your body and making every cell electrify. A familiar headache formed behind your eyes. This was just like the party nine months ago, disorienting and loud and fuck... The base was making you sick. This needed to stop. Touya. You needed to find Touya.

Quickly you pulled out your phone and called the number that felt like signing away your soul to the devil. It rang and rang and rang. Nothing. Shit. At least you knew where Touya would be. He could stop this.

You made for the door, wobbling and waddling with that cursed ten pound weight on your stomach. Nausea made it hard to focus on where you were. You wanted to vomit. You used the walls to help keep yourself upright as you descended into the bass, cringing when it started pumping louder.

Just gotta get to the study, you thought, that's where Touya always was with his friends.

Even thought you'd lived here for what felt like the better part of your pregnancy, you hadn't had the freedom to walk around alone. It was so big and twisted and confusing, especially since you could barely move. But you could also remember when Touya dragged you to his room, the smell of liquor on his breath and weed in his clothes.

He'd been terrifying then. An unknowable monster that plagued your school life. Now, he was still a monster, but one you were beginning to understand—no matter how much you didn't want to.

You understood that Touya was a result of his toxic family. You understood that Touya would likely never have normal romantic relationships. You understood that you were now parts of both these things. You understood that none of this was your fault and you didn't deserve any of it. And nothing would change in understanding your situation.

You pressed on, breathing hard, and stopped. God you wanted to sit and sleep, but the bass was an ache in your bones that kept biting you awake. You didn't have the energy for this. You checked where you were and nearly sobbed. Big chocolate doors with ornate handles. The study.

You burst through the doors. The smell of weed hit you before anything, making you double over coughing. Enji’s study was exactly how you remembered it, though the potent smell of weed this time was far worse. It was like your body couldn’t handle even the thought of it, your stomach churning, bile lapping at your esophagus. Voices fluttered through the room overlapping and swelling until you could pull out Touya's, talking excitedly. He cut himself and then started again, "There she is." His words were slurred, messy. He’d been drinking. 

He whipped around, nearly falling over his legs to get to you. A hiccup raked up his body and he burst into giggles. “She’s here,” he said again, “she came all the way down here to see me. Are you enjoying the party, babe?” Touya wrapped you in a foul smelling hug, burying his face in your hair. 

Despite how uncomfortable you were, you couldn’t help noticing how he seemed to be avoiding your bloated stomach. “Turn off the music,” you said, “its giving me a headache.” 

“But the party,” Touya whined in your ear. 

“You and your friends can smoke and drink, I don’t care, but the music has to stop. Its driving me crazy.” 

Whatever happy attitude Touya wore vanished. He dropped his arms from around you leaving you cold. “Its driving you crazy?” He backed you up against the wall, his face inches from yours, a snarl across his mouth. “Do you have any idea how I’ve felt? I’m the one who knocked you up and I barely even see you. We live in the same fucking house! You belong to me and yet you let Fuyu and Natsu suck on your tits like it was their baby inside you.” His blue eyes were fire, boring into you. “The baby isn’t dad’s or my siblings. Its mine,” his fire died out in a moment, head hanging low, the tips of his hair tickling your nose, “even if I didn’t want it.” 

Your mouth fell open. This was his scheme, his plan, to knock you up, keep you at his side and he didn’t even want it? “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Tears exploded out of your eyes, your nose swelling. “You took my freedom, my life, and you didn’t even want it?” Your voice broke into a shriek, “You bullied me every fucking day because you have a fucking crush on me and—and—.” You burst into sobs, whatever thoughts you had died on your tongue. 

Touya stared at you, his eyebrows narrowed. You thought he was going to yell at you, tell you it was your fault for making him like you in the first place. “You know,” his voice was rough, deep, “I always liked it when you yelled at me.” And then his mouth was on yours, teeth against teeth and tongue sloppily trying to enter your mouth. 

You tried to push him off, anger flaring in your chest like a wildfire, but Touya was bigger and stronger. Even drunk and high he was powerful. Another reminder of the night he’d assaulted you. Another reminder that the Todorokis could lord over you however they pleased. 

One of his friends started laughing. “I’ve never seen Touya get this worked up,” it sounded like Spinner, “wonder how far he’ll go.” 

Touya pulled back, spit connecting your mouths. His chest heaved and so did yours as you both took in oxygen. He turned around, smiled. “You just want to see my dick.” 

The others laughed in that way stoners did when they weren’t sure what was happening but they were still enjoying themselves. “C’mon,” Shigaraki laughed, “whip it out, Toga said you got a new piercing.” 

“Gotta get hard first,” Touya laughed. He dragged you to the automan and pushed you onto your back, your head just a foot from where the others sat smoking. The smile on his face vanished when your shirt rode up over your swollen stomach, your belly button flat against the stretched out skin. Slowly he put his hand on your stomach, feeling how taut it was and froze when the baby kicked. 

He met your eyes. “I—.”

“C’mon Touya,” Toga groaned, her mouth stretched into a hungry smile, “show us how you knocked her up.” They all laughed at that. Of all of them, you would have thought that Toga would be on your side, at least telling them off, but she seemed just as into your torture as the rest of them. 

Touya snapped out of whatever thought he was in, smiling that doped out smile again. He wrapped your legs around his waist and bucked into your clothed cunt. 

A high pitched shriek left your mouth. It was just humping and yet your body was reacting to it like Touya had just pinched your clit. The fiery rage inside you turned into a different type of heat. “Please,” you grabbed Touya’s shirt, “don’t do this.” 

He kissed your cheek. “I’m just giving my friends a show,” he smiled cruelly, “rat.” He bucked again and this time you bit your tongue to keep from crying out. "Ah-ah," Touya whined, "you're not allowed to hold back. We're putting on a show." He dug his tongue into your mouth again, careful to make sure you had nothing to hold back your cries except for him.

He roughly bucked against you again, his flat stomach rubbing over your swollen one. His friends cooed and cawed as he humped you through your clothes, his cock growing stiff and swollen in his pants. Touya grunted into your mouth and then pulled off gasping. "Fuck, I want to be inside." He stepped away, clawing at his pants to free himself. 

You tried to get up, run away, but his friends pinned you down, held you for him. 

Touya didn’t seem to notice the assist, too distracted trying to unhook one of the piercings from his zipper. When he finally managed to free himself, you saw the prince albert piercing you’d felt the first time and new ones along the bottom. Near the base of his cock was the beginnings of a jacob’s ladder. 

He crossed back over to you and yanked off your pants with your panties following close behind. He stared at your exposed entrance, a soft drunk giggle escaping his lips. “I don’t think I got a good enough look at this last time.” He kissed your clit and just as quickly bit into it making you shriek. “God,” he groaned, “you’re pretty.” He aligned himself with your entrance and pushed in. 

A hiss left his mouth, his hands gripping the automan tightly. “Fuuuuuuuck, you weren’t this tight last time.” 

“Last time,” your voice nearly broke, “I wasn’t heavily pregnant.” 

He smirked at you, “That must be the secret to good sex then.” Touya didn't wait for you to adjust, sliding all the way out and back in, his piercings dragging roughly against your walls. A low groan rippled out of his throat. He hunkered down above you, practically tucking himself into you with his head buried in your neck and stomach against yours. He kept up that rough pace as his friends smoked and laughed. 

You winched when the baby started kicking again. 

Touya froze. He’d felt it, too. He lifted himself up, keeping his cock firmly inside you, and ran his hands over your belly. You couldn’t decipher the look on his face. “Hey, calm down,” he said, “Daddy’s right here, there’s no need to freak out. Don’t be so selfish with Mommy’s cunt.” 

He started up his rhythm again, rougher and deeper. You shrieked when he hit your cervix and then did it again, taking your cries as encouragement. “Stop it,” you begged, pulling at his shirt, “don’t do that you’re gonna—.”

“Gonna make you cum,” Touya chuckled as if he’d finished your sentence for you. He lifted your legs over his shoulders, practically shoving your already impregnated form into a mating press. Each thrust had your heavy belly bouncing, your swollen tits leaking, your throat raw from crying. It should have been uncomfortable and terrible but the ugly truth was Touya knew how to fuck you well, from the first time he’d assaulted you to now, he felt good. 

He was better than his father. 

Touya growled as he started pumping faster, ramming your cervix harder and harder until—

You screamed. This wasn’t you cumming, this was something different, something old and terrible that had your entire body shaking and flexing at once. Hot fluid poured out of you and onto the automan, splashing the front of Touya’s jeans and shirt. 

He froze, that careless smile wiped away in less than a second. “What was that?”

“Holy shit,” Shigaraki muttered, “I think you broke her water.” And then he burst into laughter. Everyone was laughing, everyone except you and Touya. 

“No,” he whined, “nonononononono. Please don’t, no.” He pulled out of you and tried to cover your entrance but it wasn’t done leaking. “I’m not ready for a baby. I’m not ready to be a father. I don’t want... I didn’t...” He locked eyes with you, fear coloring the blue color of his eyes. Of every expression you’d seen him wear, fear was not one of them: until now. He looked at you like you could do something about it, like you could just hold it in and wait until tomorrow, but the baby was coming and it hurt. 

You screamed again and the stoners stopped laughing. 

“Bro,” Toga said, “I think she’s actually, like, y’know.” 

Touya collapsed on his hands and knees, tears flowing down his face. His chest caved and expanded as he panted. “No,” he kept crying. He crawled across the floor to his phone, quickly opening it and dialing a number. You could barely hear the exchange over your pain, a deep and terrible tearing, but you did hear Touya say, “I didn’t mean to. Dad, please, help me.”

You don’t know how long you laid there curled on your side, sobbing in pain, but the study doors burst open, Enji reeking of cold night air in just a button down and slacks. He looked between you and Touya, sighed, and scooped you off the automan. “We’re going to the hospital, you’re gonna be fine.” 

You did not feel like you’d be fine. 

Touya had sloppily redressed himself, still crying. He followed Enji out into the car. He climbed into the passenger seat while Enji buckled you up in the back. You grit your teeth to keep from screaming again. 

Enji shook the car as he climbed into the driver’s seat and peeled away from the Todoroki mansion. “I warned you,” he growled at his son, “that you needed to be delicate with her and what did you do? You tried to fuck her to impress your friends.”

“I’m sorry,” Touya sobbed. 

“You could have given her, or your baby an infection or worse,” he growled, “don’t do it again next time.”

You tried not to think about that last comment. 

The hospital was quick and efficient, taking you into the delivery room. Your mind was blank as they talked about contractions and potential complications. And then you were holding someone’s hand and screaming like you’d never screamed before, in more pain than you’d ever experienced in your life, for more hours than you thought possible in a day. 

When it was done, a nurse dumped your newborn on your chest, a tiny little lump of flesh so red he matched his hair. His father’s hair. His grandfather’s hair. A baby boy. A nurse said something about a name but all you could do was lay there and watch as the baby opened his cerulean eyes and began to wail.

[spencerscoven]

— dreams of another

about ; Since that night in the office you wander onto Spencer’s mind at all times, like clockwork.

gif by saramichellesgeller

CONTENT WARNING: unedited, smut, oral sex (male&female receiving), choking, unprotected sex, cheating, angst

a/n: view part 1 here.

The second time it happens, it's only a week that passes before Spencer finds himself on the floor of the humid conference room, his limbs entangled with yours, while the cool air settles on the sheen of sweat coated on his forehead. In the corner of of the room, he watches the navy blouse discarded carelessly on the top of a chair, similar in color to the marks between your breast.

The third time it happens, he tells you it's the last time, with his back facing you and his eyes gazing at entirely nothing.

The fourth and fifth time, Spencer doesn't say anything in the tiny space of your bedroom as he overlooks the buildings surrounding your apartment, then all the way to the concrete foundation down below, studying how insignificant everyone looked. How unknowing they were to the moral wrongdoings happening all around them.

"You live so high up. I live four floors down from here in my own building." You listened as he said those fruitless words.

"What does that mean?" You questioned, lips pursing together while your finger nails caught on the creases of the cream duvet beneath you where he laid only minutes before.

“People like you are meant to fuck people like me.” He mumbles, smirking, the vibrations of his voice upheld by the enclosures of cheap plaster walls.

The only thing left to do was to watch as the muscles of his back contracted, dancing in the lines of the darkness with the patter of his feet coming towards you. You monitored the direction of his hand as it reached for the band of his briefs, the other already latched around your neck.

The sixth time it happens, it’s in the bounds of his own apartment where he presses peppery kisses along the sides of your face, assuring you in confidence that she wouldn’t catch the two of you there. And he reassures you the only way he knows how, his fingers plying at your zipper and kneeling like he would at an alter, guiding the arch of your hips closer.

Two weeks from then was when the phone calls started. You began to understand the pattern, laying awake until the sweet pinnacle of dawn where he’d whisper your name through the receiver, exhaustion tainted in Spencer’s voice when he’d ask, “how was your night?” before he began to speak. You’d listen to Spencer talk about the good and the bad. About his mother, vintage cufflinks, and the bookshelf he wanted. Sometimes about the glasses or earrings in the store had reminded him of you. Often about how pretty you looked latched onto his cock. You wanted him to want to keep you.

You wanted him to want you first, to touch you before you even had to lay a finger on him, to grab the back of your neck and kiss you first. Anything he could do to prove that he wanted this too. Something in your head told you it was wrong to long for such a furtive thing. But you found yourself willing to be second best anyways, head stuck below sub zero while you prioritized the taste of his lips along with everything else that made him, him.

So in the shadows this thing between the two of you remained.

And the team began to realize Spencer now had a thing with being late.

They also began to realize that you didn’t drink nearly enough coffee to warrant all of your disappearances.

JJ malignly embarked on the observation of the two of you during meetings, where you never met Spencer’s eye properly but unconsciously leaned your body towards him with each interaction. And all at once it made sense to her, why he was more drawn to his phone, departing from bed at night in preference of hushed ringtones, his growing fondness to late nights. They had never agreed to a proclamation of love, not even on the days she relaxed on his dingy apartment furniture. JJ figured it was his way of waiting on her to feel the same as he might’ve, when in reality it was Spencer’s way of making sure you still remained in his life.

It was a Tuesday when she let the structure of your sin unravel in the bleak corner of the hallway with Spencer, confessing “i know” and chastening him,

“How many people are you willing to hurt?”

With the unequivocal decision pinned to the front of his brain, Spencer told you he didn’t want to hurt anyone else during the last call the two of you shared at night. The words became lost from your ears as you feigned deafness, thinking about how stupid you were to take him in the only way you could, thinking one-third of him be adequate enough.

So you hung up before he said goodbye, and it was easy to do solely because if love couldnt suffice, hate would have to.

It was odd to overlook the call that came immediately after, your eyes unblinking at the white screen. The weeks after that only came to demonstrate that finding a home within someone was overrated, even if you knew who was behind the blocked numbers that caused your phone to viberate so often it would fall off your nightstand.

Little by little you figured you’d forget and move onto your own devices, exhausted by the ability that you still moved through life, yet experienced none of it without itching for him next to you. You lusted after the idea you’d wake up with the intensity of it all slipped from your mind, forgetting how his arms felt, skin, pulse, the sound of his voice, or the soft ringlets of his hair that continued to grow as you wilted.

A harder idea to get out of your head was if he was okay, followed by if he ever thought of you at the same time you thought of him. Did he know you wouldn’t have minded resigning to another team? Or that you considered doing it, even now?

Spencer spectated your life, the base of his throat becoming caught when he watched you get worse, speak less, become smaller. You’d shrunken within yourself. Months passed, with him having too many inquiries about you to Morgan, who always gave him a disappointing look, but told him about you each time. That you hadn’t been sleeping, internal clock stuck on keeping you up until the crack of dawn, your mind regressing backwards solely because of him. He gave up on leaving those stupid sticky notes in your books that said “call me!” or even the ones that asked if you were okay, asking if you able to stand on your own.

He watched you so long that he began to see you get better, more social as you expanded, becoming a part of the team again. You were different, but you were you again. It was a bitter pill to swallow when he took heed that your life no longer included him, keeping his lips sealed at any revelation that would show he was still devoted.

So it was dull-witted when he found himself outside the door of your apartment, swaying back and fourth because every night since the last call his world had been spinning faster and faster, trapping him inside as a prisoner. For weeks straight Spencer had awoken with the feeling of bile ready to rise out of his throat, your presence always lacking even if you controlled the beat of his heart.

He knocked. And thought about how angelic you looked when you answered, the confused expression not going unnoticed by him as a celebration sounded somewhere in his mind because you looked as if you weren’t expecting anyone else. And Spencer knows he’d collapse right then and there if you had been.

“I’ve been thinking— it’s not like I can really stop it— for months. It’s been around sixty eight days since we last spoke,” He began, taking you in, enstilling trust in his brain to get a photo of you so well that he could have it forevermore if you didn’t want him anymore. If that had ever been the case he’d leave. He’d leave the state if you asked him to.

“Why are you here?” You only had four words to say out loud, the rest buzzing around in your head safely, unauthorized to rise out of your throat.

“We never really said anything about it but I think we both knew how we felt.” Spencer leans closer just in time for his lips to land beside your ears, lighting a match inside your chest that had stayed extinguished for far too long.

“Speaking was never our strong suit, anyway.” You replied, your lips pursed while your arms took on a defensive stance, pushing him back gently.

You were shipwrecked inside, pushing him back again, this time firmly because you knew you couldn’t stop him from coming closer, even if you wanted to. You were at a standstill as his hands brought yours to his shoulders, drawing circles on your hip with the tips of his fingers. He was in your doorway asking if he was yours, not trying to eloquently wrap you around his finger.

Your limbs acted before your mind did, digits moving across his adam’s apple and holding tight, restricting his airflow like he had done to you so many times while he fucked you into the mattress. You gleamed at him with not much in your eyes, trying to remembering when you had tried to cross the thin line between love and hate for him. Spencer’s eyes were soft and adoring, a look which he had a tendency to give you. So you held tighter. And he did nothing, knowing you wouldn’t go far but willing to die in your hands if you truly wanted to.

“I don’t know if you deserve this anymore,” Your lips ghosted over his, reprimanding him that he’d forgotten that this had began in a game of adultery.

“I don’t.” Spencer’s voice came out as if he was parched and you had been refusing him of a drink. Your hands released his neck and instead grabbed at his jaw, allowing his lips to mend together with yours, unable to speak back.

“If I loved you any less, I’d be able to talk about it more.” He pulled away just enough to whisper those words.

“You love me?” You questioned, a bit timid in the way it came out.

“It’s more than that. I adore you. Worship, even.”

You felt yourself moving the both of you into your apartment, swapping the publicity of the hallway for the privacy closely afforded to you. Your bodies only got so far, pushing each other against the wall next to the enterence, Spencer’s hands helping to arch your body into his, hands pressing down the curve of your back.

You enjoyed feeling him subtly grind his hips against you while he let out little whimpers, remembering the way he was so vocal and sensitive, yet dominant when he laid between your legs. You drew in a quick breath as he bit down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw the red liquid that ran through your body, conflicted as to why it only drew you closer, want intensified.

“I missed you so much,” Spencer’s voice ghosted in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking along your throat and collarbones, pushing the palm of his hand harshly against your damp cotton underwear, drawing a shiver from you. “Are lilacs still favorite flowers?”

His fingers played along your slit, the pads of his thumb pressing on your clit and rotating above the fabric, watching your hips jerk from the subtle pleasure.

“I think you missed me too,” Spencer held you, switching places so you now were encased between him and the wall, knowing that soon enough your knees wouldn’t be able to hold you up. His index and middle finger filled you up in a way only he could, the tips of them curving in his direction as he hit the bumpy ridge inside of you.

You held his shoulder, uncaring that your nails dug into the expensive button up he wore, admiring that he always preferred quality over quantity. Your face contorted in pleasure as his fingers only pumped faster inside of your vagina, only smirking at the sorry attempt of a nod you gave to answer him because he had rendered you speechless.

You felt the climb of your orgasm rise in your stomach, reaching all the way to the rest of your limbs, making them feel as if they were just static attached to your body until his fingers ceased, sensing how you clenched around them desperately. Your mouth opened, protests ready to fall out while he grasped the back of your knees, signaling you to jump so he could carry you to your bedroom.

“Why are you always such a tease?” You groaned, endearingly grabbing the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I can’t just let your greedy pussy swallow my fingers and cum from just that...” he tosses you into your sheets gently, leaning down to take your top off and throwing it somewhere to be rediscovered again.

He watches silently as you lift your hips off the mattress, panties sliding down your calves to your ankles, and finally off. Spencer gazes down at you, your jaw in his two hands, staring up with puppy eyes. He let a line of swears spring from his mouth, wondering why you looked so innocent when your hands were planted on his hips, licking the precum that made a wet patch on the side of his pants.

“Quite unfair that I’m the only one with my clothes off, don’t you think?” Your hands settled on his belt buckle, the jingle of metal filling the room as you undid the button to his slacks as well. Tugging him by the band of his boxers to lay on the bed with you, Spencer caught the cue and laid against the headboard. He trailed his left hand along your thighs, lifting you to straddle him as his right latched onto your breasts, squeezing.

“Please sit,” He said, taking a nipple into his mouth, “On my face.”

You sat in a slightly worried daze, Spencer catching the clue to just move you into the position. You found yourself facing the mirror at the foot of your bed, your ass in his face as he grabbed at your hips, trying to bring you higher and get a taste.

“Are you sure?” You apprehensively twisted your torso to eye him, taking note that the two of you had came across something you’d quite done before.

“Yes, I need you to.” Spencer reached his arm around, gently rubbing your clit, and feeling how your whole body relaxed from above him, as he repeated affirmations against your back.

You watched from the mirror, your ass propped up in his face and lips swollen. You could even see when you began the swivel of your hips into him. He didn’t need to say much else before you arched your back, planting your pussy right above his lips.

“You’re so pretty.” He whispered, before running his tongue flatly against your pussy.

Your hips jerked back and fourth, riding on the surface of his tongue that enveloped your clit, sucking on it harshly until he flatly ran it up. His fingers were back at work, touching the places where his tongue couldn’t reach. You determined that this position was now one of your favorites, your hands that were once placed on the tops of his thighs reaching for the bludge in his boxers.

You tried pulling them just far enough so you could begin to run your hands up and down his cock. Spencer’s tongue only assaulted your clit harder when you leaned down, allowing him a new angle so you could push him into your mouth, collecting the precum that had spilt, humming in delight.

Spencer couldn’t stop the thrusting of his hips upwards, burying himself deeper down your throat, both of your moans viberating off the atoms in your room. Your eyes wandered up as you watched, hypnotized at the reflection of you two. It made you wanna take his dick deeper, taking him to the back of your throat as you felt his cum ripple out.

Your orgasm only took a few more seconds to follow his, your moan muffled from your jaw expanded around his cock. Your hasty breaths harbored his while you saw stars. You were casted out of your stupor when you felt the palm of his hand rub circles into your ass, hand coming down in a smack.

“This fucking pussy has me whipped.” Spencer sighed, pressing a kiss exactly where his hand last struck.

When you positioned yourself back across his abdomen, you kneeled, kissing him. You felt him twitch under you from tasting himself on your tongue, reaching down to line up his cock to enter you.

Spencer stared up at you, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of you slowly descending your pussy on his cock. His hands traced the hickies that dawned on your chest, then to his on his lower stomach, watching how the two of you connected. These were marks of possession— ones that he could finally show off.

You rolled your hips against his, slowly circling them and allowing him to hit the most sensitive parts of you. You felt so much fuller than usual, the feeling taking your breath away. Nobody else could reach those heights that Spencer gave you. Maybe it was also because nobody else could occupy your mind like he could, either.

He pulled you down so the two of you could reunite your lips, wearing away at the callouses that had formed around your heart. His thumb drew slow circles on your clit, pulling your orgasm out so you could cum above him. It took a few more thrusts before he came inside you, continuing to fuck his seed back into you from below for just a while longer. When Spencer’s hips stilled, he kept inside, basking in the embodiment of you that wholly consumed him.

He silently traced the outlines of your features, your eye lids fluttering as he reached to them. His fingernails scratched your scalp im a rythem that lulled you into hazy exhaustion. You feel his stare on your face as it occurs to him that he was doomed from the start. You were a wonder to behold.

“Spencer?”

“Yes?”

“Did you forget all of the things I remember?”

“I don’t think I could even if I tried.”

masterlist

[lovestrucked-again]

Beneath the daylight moon

Chapter 4

Masterlist - Round the Robin Collab Prev

“Why do we sometimes see the moon, even during daytime?” Jaehyun doesn’t know, nor did he care to notice that such a thing existed; it was a mystery to him, but you were a bigger enigma.

“I can help you. And her.” Jaehyun’s eyes shifted towards the door that he had just left behind, then back to the boy gripping his arm. “But I need your help first.”

“You want me to do what?” Jaehyun questioned, the shock evident in his voice.

“You can see it right?” the boy asked in anticipation, the glint of excitement sparkling in his eye as he continued, “the string.”

“Uh,” Jaehyun hesitated, nervous how to respond, “no I can’t.”

“Did you use the flash?” the guy bounced back, moving uncomfortably close to Jaehyun, pushing his way to see the screen of his phone.                                    

“No I didn't bu-” Jaehyun frowned in frustration, “can I have my phone back?” he asked, struggling to hide his impatience and annoyance stirring up. The boy didn't respond, quickly flicking the camera app onto screen and switching it to the back camera, focusing the dot on his physical still body connected to the monitors on the hospital bed. Jaehyun stood leaning on one foot, arms crossed around his body and huffed in exasperation. Why did I even bother? He thought to himself.

“Look.”

Jaehyun grabbed the phone back without a second thought and lazily looked at the screen, not expecting anything until his jaw drops in awe, “W-What is that?” he stuttered out.

“It’s my connection to her.” The boy explained, taking a seat beside his own laid out body. Jaehyun has to rub his eyes again, afraid that he’s dreaming, seeing the two identical faces beside each other. There’s almost no difference in the complexion of their faces, if the boy lied still against his body with his eyes closed, Jaehyun was almost certain he would be unable to tell the difference. It scared him.

“To her?” Jaehyun asked, unable to comprehend everything.

“That string is connected to my soulmate.”

“Wait what?”

The boy gets up from the bed, beginning to pace back and forth between the doorway and his coma body, “I know it sounds crazy and stupid but I’ve researched this already, I’ve spent almost 4 years now, like this.” He glanced at Jaehyun for a sign of his following, “The string you just saw is connected to her.”

Jaehyun looked down at the phone in his hand, staring at the silver cord that seemed to emerge from the boy’s unconscious covered heart. He could see the string flow past out the photo frame and disappear behind the corner edge of his screen. “Where is she?” he asked, trying to interpret everything.

The boy stopped moving, clenching his fist tightly before unclasping it and turning to face the closed door, “She’s in the room next door.”

__

“Have you heard of the daytime moon?” The boy asked, leaning against the wooden bench chair and staring up into the sky.

Jaehyun’s interest perked up at the mention of the familiar term, “Yeah I have.” He takes a seat beside the boy, waiting for him to continue. The slow urgency in the boy’s movement pushes Jaehyun to carry on, “do you know what it means?”

The boy smiles to himself as he reaches his arms above his shoulder, stretching his body before sinking back into the chair, “It’s based on an old story actually.” Jaehyun has to gesture at him to keep going as the boy turns to make eye contact with him. “At the beginning the sun and moon were equal in greatness and luminance but then the moon was made to be smaller. Obviously, the moon became jealous of the sun and so she asked the universe, “Why can’t two kings wear the same crown?” The universe then replied to her “You’re not diminished, you may rule both in the day and night, you can signify the dates and years which people live by – and the sun will be given the part of seasons.”

Jaehyun thinks back to the day on the rooftop. What was the season back then? He pictured the memory of you sitting alone at the rooftop, spacing out at the sky. The wind had shaken the last few leaves on the floor of the roof around and the usual thoughts from his head had disappeared. It felt like so long ago since he had seen you and the thought just made him feel lonely.

The boy remained oblivious to the change in Jaehyun’s emotions as he carried on with his story, “So the moon was reduced to a fraction of her original size, deprived of her ability to generate her own light and reduced her luminance in the daytime – a punishment for her selfish inability to share with the sun. But, she was offered a new cycle of rebirth once a month, allowing her growth and a time for her own sparkle, but she wasn’t allowed to be restored to her original state.”

Snapping back into reality, Jaehyun leaned back up, straightened his posture and crossed a leg over, “And how does this relate to the daytime moon?” Jaehyun asked, confused how this story was related to his question.

“It’s the importance of a metaphoric belief - a give and take relationship. The sun gives its light to the moon and the moon receives and reflects the sun’s light.” Jaehyun pondered on the thought as the boy spoke, “The sun and moon were created to differentiate between night and day, between givers and takers.”

“Why would the moon feel inferior? It’s of equal importance is it not?” Jaehyun questioned after much contemplation on the belief, the difference between the moon and sun was so obvious to the universe, yet the moon just couldn't appreciate herself.

The boy nodded, giving a knowing look that left Jaehyun feeling quite exposed, as though he could see right through his simple logic. “It is, perhaps even more. The sun illuminates by illuminating, but the moon illuminates by the dark of nothingness, using the reception of another’s light. So when the sun isn’t seen, it isn’t there, but even when the moon is nothing, she is still something.”

It takes a few seconds for the information to click and sink in. Jaehyun can feel his lips form the question before he can even follow through his own thoughts, “And that makes a daytime moon?”

“Yes.”

“The daytime moon signifies a give and take relationship requiring selflessness and… well you know?” the boy chuckled, nudging his new friend beside him, “something like of a couple.”

__

As Jaehyun turned the next corner, his next step faltered. Just moments ago, the boy had taken him to see his unconscious girlfriend whose string could be seen with the same technique of a camera flash. Her lifeless body attached to multiple machinery cords. Tears came to his eyes as he recalled your body in the same hospital bed, will Y/N become as pale as her? I have to help her before it’s too late.

Technically all the boy wanted him to do was pick up a pair of scissors and cut an invisible string that only happened to be seen using through a camera flash. Jaehyun brushed the tears away hastily and entered the boy’s hospital room – his spirit already sitting beside his own body.

“There’s a pair of scissors in the bedside draw,” said the boy listlessly, “you can use those.”

Jaehyun felt that the time had really come now for making his choice. Or had his choice already been made long before? He knew he would save you no matter what. A feeling of pain crept over him as he thought of the desecration that was in store for the fair face boy.

“I-I’m sorry but I don't think I can do this.” Jaehyun stammers, backing away to the entrance of the door.

The boy visibly frowned, “Why not?” he asked, bunching the thin bed sheets in his fist, attempting to simmer his combined emotions of anger and confusion.

“This…” the words are barely heard in the empty room “it’ll be bad for you, wont it?”

The boy chuckled effortlessly, “what do you mean by bad?”

“I just feel like there’s another way to deal with this.” Jaehyun mumbled, “something better.”

“There isn’t!” exclaimed the boy, who was beginning to tense now. “I said I’ll help you if you help me.”

“I know…” he trails, desperately trying to drag the time. Jaehyun made eye contact with the boy once more, wavering. He takes a step towards the bed, finding it almost physically impossible to drag his feet across the floor. His hand finds the draw handle, pulling it towards him with much effort, and reveals a pair of simple red scissors.

His fingers glided around the cutters with much ease, but his hand, his body, shakes with an anxious unknowing feeling. Jaehyun was beginning to plead in his mind for a sign, for something to stop him. The scissors shook in his hands as he lifted the heavy weight up, hovering above the open draw, seeking for something.

Suddenly, as if someone had heard his wishes, his phone went off, vibrating in his pocket. Jaehyun drops the scissors down, patting himself down searching for the source of his saviour.

[11:34am] Johnny: Where are you?

[11:36am] Johnny: Did you bail on me?

[11:45am] Johnny: I swear if you’re with some girl right now

“I have to go.” Jaehyun said, reaching into his jacket pocket and fumbling around for his keys.

“Where are you goi-?” As Jaehyun tried to turn around the boy held him back, making him feel like he had robbed the boy of his freedom, disloyalty immediately filling in the pit of his stomach, “You said you’d help me?”

Jaehyun could only nod weakly, half-truth and half-lie to his next words, “I-I I’ll come back tomorrow.” __

Jaehyun drove off alone and watched the flashing lights of the little car in front of him. A strange sense of loss came over him. He felt the world had all of a sudden cornered him, pushed him into a hole that he had dug for himself. His eyes darkened, and the crowded flaring streets became blurred to his eyes. When he finally pulls into the apartment underground parking he sees Y/S/N walk out.

It doesn't take any effort for him to figure out the situation, having noticed the tear streaked and puffy face features as he pulled into a parking slot. A few seconds passed and Johnny ran out, following Y/S/N desperately.

“Y/S/N Wait!” Johnny cried.

Jaehyun reached for the ignition key, switched it off and slumped his forehead onto the wheel.

“No Johnny, not again.” Y/S/N repeated. Their voices bounced off the walls, echoing in the basement space.

“Just explain it to me! I just want an explanation and I’ll get out!”

Jaehyun exhaled a heavy breath which seemed to have been pent up the entire day, and as he did so, it seemed to him that he had grown years older.

Hearing a car door slam shut and his best friend’s voice die down, Jaehyun looked up and out his window. Johnny stood still, staring at a car drive out and further away. Jaehyun sighs in disbelief, why can’t there just be a day of peace?

“Johnny.” Jaehyun calls out, opening his car door to get out.

Johnny whips his head around, searching for his best friend’s voice, “Oh.” There’s a look of defeat, “Hey.”

Jaehyun doesn’t really know what to say, debating whether he should pretend nothing happened or whether he should address the poor guy’s feelings. “Are you- okay?”

“I- Yeah – I’m okay.”

Johnny takes his time walking back, dragging himself to the elevator, eyes glued to the floor as his mind shuts down in defeat. Jaehyun walked beside him, silent, mind also switched off as he pushes out the thought of tomorrow.

The silence in the elevator isn’t awkward, but the atmosphere is evidently filled with a heavy sigh. No one speaks. The bell of the lift rings, signalling them to leave and Jaehyun turns beside to look at his friend.

“Let’s go.” He murmurs

Johnny breaks out of his daze, giving a nod as he walks out and lets his feet walk to the front door of the apartment. He takes a seat on the stool bench, leaning against the island bench as he plays absentmindedly with the ring on his finger.

Jaehyun spares a glance behind his shoulder, looking at his friend slumping his shoulders, no words, face drained from the usual energy he had. He sighed as he closed the fridge door, placing a bottle of water in front of his friend.

“About Y/S/N…”

Johnny instantly looks up, surprised that Jaehyun has mentioned the name.

The look of desperation in his eyes pains Jaehyun as he continues, “sorry to break it to you but Y/S/N has a lot on her plate.” He rubs his temples as if this were giving him another headache, and Johnny looks at him with a harsh irritation.

Flashes of emotion crossed Johnny’s face, a mixture of jealousy and confusion, “What?”

“Y/S/N –” how to tell him? “She- She has a child.”

The shock is evident in Johnny’s voice, “D-Did you say a child?” he looked around in disbelief, avoided making eye contact with Jaehyun, “How do you know this?” Johnny’s eyes narrowed on his friend, and he crossed an arm over his chest.

“We’re neighbours, she lives across from me,” Jaehyun continued to list, playing with the bottle cap of his own water, “we talk.”

“…oh,”

Jaehyun has never pushed Johnny to do anything. While they have always been good friends, he was always conscious of the fact that Johnny is older. He had always respected his friend. “I don't think now’s a good time to be trying again.”

“No,” Johnny stumbled through his sentence, “I-I can’t just leave her like that,” his heart broke as he continued, “not with that asshole of a guy.”

It crossed Jaehyun’s mind that perhaps the relationship of his older friend would be something incomprehensible to him, but he ignores it. “You weren’t in her life for the past few years Johnny, you can’t just waltz back in now.” he mumbled. Johnny had stopped fuming, and when he looked at his friend, he just sounded tired. He lowered his eyes in shame, and Jaehyun shook his head, “Y/S/N doesn't deserve that.”

As Jaehyun left the room, Johnny stared at the bottle of water placed in front of him, thinking back to what he did wrong so long ago. And why it would forever be left unrepairable. ____

You took the long route home that day, wondered if Jaehyun had actually come to see you in hospital. At the corner of the local flower shop, a man passed you in the mist, walking very fast and with the collar of his black jacket turned up. He had a bag in his hand. You recognised the man. It was Johnny. A strange sense of fear came over you. You made no sign of recognition (not that he’d see you anyway) and went on quickly in the direction of your house, walking faster than before, thinking about your sister and her ex.

Your mind flashed back to that day.

It seemed Y/S/N and Johnny would’ve lasted till marriage, till old. Johnny would constantly roam around your shared apartment with your sister. You’d hear her voice and her heavy laughter in the room beside yours. You’d see the two of them walking hand in hand around the small space, standing beside each other as they cooked. They were inseparable.

That day was different. You hadn’t seen Johnny for weeks now and you would only see glimpses of your sister around the place. She’d stay in her room and it would be completely silent. However, she went out that night, only making it known to you when you heard the sound of a male’s voice late at night.

At first you thought it was Johnny and you became excited, ready to barge into their room to say hi after so long. But the moment you reach the bedroom door you halt. You can hear your sister whispering and the deeper male voice. It wasn’t Johnny’s though, and it wasn't anyone else’s that you recognised. You took a step back, running into your own room as you realised what was happening.

Jaehyun notices you from afar, almost running towards him. However, you don't see him, determination and concern for your sister clouding your vision. It’s not until Jaehyun realises you’re about to completely past him that he calls out for you.

His hand feels cold against your skin as he stops you by the arm, “Johnny,” you huffed, telling him the crucial points, unable to connect the words into a sentence, “I-I… Y/S/N.”

Jaehyun lets his hand fall, having guessed Johnny would’ve left the apartment not long after himself. “Yeah, I know.”

You looked up at him, having caught your breath “What?”

He helps you steady yourself, “Y/S/N’s not home at the moment, I saw her drive off before.”

“Not home? Where is she going?” You followed, anxiety building up again.

“I don't know, maybe visiting you.” He lies, trying to lead you back to the apartments.

However, this only panicked you more, “Really? But she came yesterday.” You turned around, already speed walking back the direction you came from, “somethings wrong.” You mumbled, mind working already thinking what must have gone wrong.

“Wait Y/N!” Jaehyun calls out, following after you, “Where are you going?”

“Back to the hospital.” You stated, “If she’s coming to visit me today something must be wrong, she only comes on weekends.” Your minds working in a frenzy and you can barely concentrate on anything else. Could it be something related to her boyfriend? To your nephew?

“Y/N!” Jaehyun called again.

You didn't hear him though, determined to get back and see your sister. Jaehyun doesn’t have the strength left to chase after you, dreading the thought of visiting the hospital yet again. Instead he watched you leave. ___

It was almost midnight by the time Jaehyun finally had the chance to lay down in his bed. He hadn’t texted Johnny about earlier, hadn’t seen you since you had run off, hadn’t even had a chance to eat dinner with his Grandma. The past 24 hours seemed to have felt like weeks and he thought how nice it finally was, to be able to hear his own breath. He decided to think of the day as just a hurdle to pass, a necessity to be able to wish for something better.

With that thought, he eventually fell asleep.

The boy laughed, and when he did his head twitched strangely a couple of times, “Get out of here. I don't want to see you.”

“Just come with me,” Jaehyun begged, “I’ll help you figure something else out.”

The boy’s face suddenly hardened into anger and his words shot out in a rage. “Just shut up! You lied to me! We made a deal, it was so fucking simple. If you wanted to act like a goddamn hero then you should’ve done something about it!”

Jaehyun could only stand there speechless. The boy was just a mere stranger to him, not even in flesh, yet the words felt so harshly true, “I-Sorry…”

“It’s all your fault she’s dead! You could’ve stopped it. You could’ve saved her. But no! You had to run away and become a coward. You only care about yourself!” The boy’s face had coloured to a deep red, and spit flew from his mouth as he yelled. He started taking lumbering steps forward, his hands balled into fists as he stepped closer to Jaehyun.

“L-Look I,” He was only a few feet away, Jaehyun took a step backwards, his guilt now turning into fear.

“I only asked for one fucking thing!”

Jaehyun took two more steps back, “I-”

“And now you killed Y/N too!” The boy screamed and rushed forward.

He stirred in his sleep, waking in an instant as the dream disappeared. A glance outside let him know the moon was still out. He sat up, leaning against the bedframe before reaching for his phone. 4:38am.

After about ten minutes he got up, and throwing on a pair of simple shorts passed into the tile paved bathroom. The cool water refreshed him after his dreadful sleep. He shivered under the water and sighed heavily. Another nightmare about you. A dim sense of having taken part in some strange tragedy came to him once or twice, but there was the unreality of a dream about it.

As soon as he was dressed, Jaehyun went to the rooftop and sat down to the brightness of the starry dark morning. The warm air seemed laden with fresh scents. The silence that surrounded his home added to the beauty of a new day.

The dream was just a spook he reasoned, yet he struggled to accept the reality part of it. Deep down, Jaehyun was already contemplating the possibilities if he chose not to return and help the boy in hospital. He promised to go back today and his nightmare was a glimpse of the consequences he’d encounter if he broke that promise. ___

You awake that same morning to find yourself not in the same room as you usually would be in. The light shade of pastel blue walls which once surrounded your hospital bed now changed into stained dulls of white walls.

The numbness of sleep slowly fades and the first thing that surprises you is the tiny needles poking into your arms. You gasp in a breath only to find nothing coming in and the obstacle of your own dry tongue. The lack of oxygen descending on your mind caused you to panic and in desperation you sucked in another breath. Your body feels heavy as you sit up quickly, your fingers immediately searching for the bed sheets to help you up from your physical laid body.

“What’s going on?” You mumbled, noticing the unusual amount of nurses flooding your surroundings. You look around for anyone familiar, searching for your usual doctor and nurse. There’s a heavy atmosphere looming in the hospital room and you ignore it, exiting the commotion.

“Y/N?”

The voice stopped you from walking further, turning around to face the only person who could see your roaming spirit.

“Jaehyun? What’s going on?” you asked, assuming he knew.

“You- Your body.” He stuttered not sure how to start his sentence “it’s shutting down.”

You paused, falling against the side of the doorway and holding onto the wall for support, “Am I dying?”

[otterbeesfanficblog]

When neutron stars collide

(Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

A/n: The hero costume in this chapter was designed and drawn by me, please don't try and steal it or post it anywhere, it is for this story only. This one is also a lot longer then the other ones as well so... buckle up, little bitches. (Just kidding, I love you all, please don’t hate me ಥAಥ)

Edit: I JUST FUCKIN' REALIZED I'VE BEEN SPELLING BAKUGO'S NAME WRONG THIS WHOLE TIME!!! I HATE MYSELF!!!

Part 4:From Where We Stand

Part 1: Steps Before The Starting Line Part 2: When A Star Chooses To Shine Part 3: Compare And Contrast Part 5: You Would Be Angry Too...

Though it hurt your pride a little, you timidly asked Kirishima to explain how the rest of the school day was going to work. He didn't at all hesitate to tell you, Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido did wounder and ask why you seemed to be so unknowing of what school was like.

You quickly came to the excuse that you were home-schooled, Kirishima backed it up by saying that you had told him you moved around a lot so it was obvious you took school online. You were thankful that he actually thought you went to school and had a house... or parents.

In the morning was English with Present Mic, which was pretty entertaining and you were actually liking it a lot. Everyone around you seemed bored and uninterested, but you continued to pay close attention.

You had gone to lunch with Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and Ashido, and you were blown away by how much food they had. You felt your stomach growl and churn in hunger, but as you looked at the prices, you knew you weren't going to be eating any of this good looking food.

"Are you Ms. Uchukyuzo?"

You and your group of new friends turn to see the chef Lunch Rush who had been serving meals to everyone, everyone but you. He had appeared before any of your friends could ask why you didn't have food.

"Uh, yeah, that's me."

Before you could really wounder too long, he handed you a tray full of food which made your mouth water at the mere sight let alone the amazing smell.

"I was told you might have some confusion during lunch here at U.A. but have no fear, I won't let anyone go hungry!"

He then walked off as you stared at the tray of food in your hands, your group had already sat down at a table and began eating. Kaminari was already eating and scrolling through his phone, Ashido and Sero were talking to each other but were also watching you, and Kirishima reached across the table to tap you on the head since you were just starting at the food with your head down.

"You okay--??"

"THANK YOU FOR THIS FOOD!!"

You clap your hands together, tightly shutting your eyes to stop the tears from coming out as you quickly dug into your food. The group around you laughed, thinking you were just excited about how good the food looks, not at all thinking that this was the only food you had been given to eat in the last two days since your stockpile of food had been emptied and you hadn't had time to get more.

Little did you know, a few teachers had been watching you as you went threw school, taking note of how you went about your day. Your over excitement for food was written down, they needed more proof before they could really do anything about your life outside of school.

Then it was the afternoon which meant another class, Hero Basic Training.

"I am..."

Your whole class turns towards the door as it rushed open, and leaning into the room was the one hero you hoped to never see again.

"... Coming through the door like a normal person!"

The whole class seemed to the excited to see him, which made you want to explode. You glared down at the desk in front of you seething, if only they knew what he did to you. They all praised him and his dumbass costume, his dumb smile and his dumb hair with his dumb---

"I teach Hero Basic Training." All Might spoke out, making you glare up at him. You wanted to scream in his face and explode that stupid cape right off his back. "It is a subject where you train in different ways to learn the basics of being a hero. You'll take the most units of this subject!"

"Great..." You groan out softly, crossing your arms and glaring off to the side. Unbeknownst to you, a certain ruby eyed boy heard and saw you're shift in attitude.

"Let's get right into it! This is what we'll do today--" He flexed, which you pretend to gag at, then holds up a card that says "BATTLE" in bold letters. "Combat training!"

"Combat..." You shift a little, glancing back at Bakugo who had an evil look on his face.

"... training." Midoriya finished, looking fearful which you didn't blame him.

"And to go with that are these!" He then waved to the wall next to him, which began opened up to cases with numbers on them. "Costumes made based on your Quirk registrations and requests you sent in before school started."

You joined everyone's excitement after that, you were excited to see your costume. Nezu had asked you specifically when you had your meeting after getting your acceptance letter, he had even suggested things to make your costume better.

"After you change, gather in Ground Beta!"

"Yes, sir!"

It didn't take you all long to get into your costumes, though getting dressed with the other girls was a little awkward. Putting on your costume though and looking in the mirror, you couldn't stop the smile that traveled to your face.

You may hate the teacher teaching you for this class, and you may not be as good as the rest of them, but damn...

You looked good.

____ Break in the story to explain the costume design___

If you don't want to read this you can skip this and continue reading, if you would like to read, buckle up its a lot.

So let's start with what the costume is made out of.

Because R's (Reader) quirk is based on explosions it is made out of heat resistant fabric, and woven into it is carbon fiber to keep it strong, light, and it also allows R to absorb light along with pressures. This is what the whole costume is made out of. Along with the ami-flex carbon fiber weave is a glossy star-like light cover to it all, making it better at collecting light.

Speaking of reflective, that takes us to the galaxy colored parts of the costume.

These parts are made thinner and more reflective than the darker parts of the costume, the darker parts of the costume are more meant to take strong hits without causing damage to the body, the galaxy parts are for light, sound, and wind absorption. The galaxy cloth is made to be sensitive to all movements, so as it moves like a skirt or like thin silk, it is taking in energy and distributing it to R.

As it is pretty obvious why it is placed as an overlay skirt, pant legs, and shoulder cloths, you might wonder why it is positioned like a mask over the face. Well, this is for when R speaks, she would be collected the sound vibrations and heat from her mouth and nose, channeling it back into energy.

The balls and heels of the feet are free for a few reasons. When we walk, a lot of the pressure goes from the heel to the ball of our foot (Which can be debated for those who have flat arches on their feet). Now, this would make you think that if you feel more motion in your feet with your heel and ball, why not put something there to help absorb that? Well, this is going based on R's back story.

One of the most prominent reasons being that as R grew up, she couldn't simply go out and buy shoes. This is assuming R only had a few if not one pair of shoes, and in the end just opted to not wearing shoes and simply wrapping a cloth around her feet instead. Another reason is that R's way of collecting energy growing up was mostly through vibrations and gaining potential energy from the ground or from impacts to her body, meaning that most of her energy came from walking. Lastly, R was not the most... well-behaved child and often had to run from or fight people in her life. And her best way of getting energy to fight or flee with? Her feet.

Lastly, the mask. If you couldn't tell already, it resembles our explosive boy Bakugo. Now, at first, it was only a cute little call out to match with the firecracker, but I then came up with a reason as to why she has them.

If you have ever seen an owl, they have curved faces that allow sound to travel at them and curve into their ears to make for hearing things clearer. Try it, cup your hands by your ears, and see the difference it makes in sound. For this reason, R wears these to collect sound waves at a better rate than she ever had before.

Before this costume, most of her potential energy came from movements, now she has things to amplify the way she takes in energy.

This was the explanation for her suit, if any of you have questions, comments, or want to know more about the reader's quirk or her past, let me know! I love writing things like this, it's fun and I love hearing feedback.

____You can continue reading the story from here____

After you all made your way out and into Ground Beta, you had a few moments to talk amongst yourself. You saw the girl from before, Uraraka you believe her name was?, going over to Midoriya and complimenting his suit.

His was simple, and despite it being green, you could tell without a doubt it was based on All Might himself.

"... To each there own." You say, shrugging it off. You may not like All Might, but you weren't going to hate on anyone who did. They all just saw him in a different like than you, even if for you that light wasn't even on.

"Y/n!"

You turn to the sound of your name, smiling as you see Kirishima walking over to you. His costume looked pretty badass, the red complimenting his hair and the rugged look to it made it seem like he had been wearing that for forever.

"Hey, Kiri. Your mask makes you look like a dragon or something."

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head and looking off to the side.

"Dragons are pretty manly, but that's not why I came over here." He then looked you up and down, gesturing to your suit with his hands. "Look at you! You look like you came from outer space, like a space goddess or something!"

You felt heat rise to your face as you tried to cover up the shy smile that made it's way to your face, you crossed your arms and looked away from him.

"S-shut up, your sappy words are gonna make me vom."

He laughed at this and you smiled back at him, laughing along with him. Suddenly it felt like you were being hardcore started at and seeing as Kirishima had turned away to talk with Kaminari and Sero, you looked around at your other classmates.

You then caught the eyes of a certain explosive boy, who was glaring at you from across the away. You felt a smile grace your face as you looked around you then back to him, shrugging your shoulders in a "What are you looking at" way. He rolled his eyes and face forward which made you scuff a laugh, looking forward as well ready for class to start.

"Now, it's time for combat training!"

"Sir!" Glasses boy, who you still didn't know the name of and was in a full suit of armor, raised his hand to speak. "This is a battle center from the entrance exam, so will we be conducting urban battles again?"

"No, we're going to move ahead two steps!" All Might replied, holding up to fingers. "Most of the time, fighting villains takes place outside, but if you look at the total numbers, atrocious villains appear indoors at a higher rate."

Unfortunately, you knew how high those numbers were from experience.

"Imprisonment, house arrest, backroom deals-- In this society filled with heroes,  truly intelligent villains hide in the shadows!"

You let your eyes drift around the class, watching as they all hung onto his words.

'truly intelligent villains hide in the shadows...' You thought back to were you live now and how you had found that place. '... Not anymore.'

"For this class, you'll be split into villains and heroes and fight 2-on-2 indoor battles."

"Without basic training?" A girl with long green hair tied into a bow asked, but you were thinking about something else that didn't add up.

"This is a real battle to understand those basics! However, the key this time is that there's no robot you can just beat up."

You raised your hand slightly.

"Uhm, but--"

"How will wins and losses be determined?" A girl in a ponytail spoke up louder than you.

"Can we beat them up anyway?" Bakugo was next to ask a question and since there didn't seem to be any order, you tried calling out again.

"Uh-"

"Will the punishment be expulsion like with Mr. Aizawa?" Uraraka cut in.

"How shall we be split up?" Glasses boy raised his hand, this way you saw your chance.

"Speaking of splitting up, how---"

"Isn't this cape crazy?" A boy with long red-tinted wing glasses spoke over you, and you felt your skin growing warm and your body started to grow.

You were losing your patience from being interrupted and Kirishima and Kaminari who stood on either side of you looked at you with a sort of empathy, Kaminari however took a few steps away from you and Kirishima hardened the skin that was closest to you.

Just in case.

All Might seemed overwhelmed with the number of questions, which you would have found funny if you weren't 4 seconds away from blowing up everyone.

"I'll answer all your questions!"

He then pulled out a small booklet, well in looked small in his hands, and opened it up and began to read from it.

"Now, listen here. The situation is that the villains have hidden a nuclear weapon somewhere in their hideout. The heroes are trying to dispose of that. The heroes need to catch the villains or get the nuclear weapon back in the allotted time. The villains need to protect the nuclear weapon for the whole time or catch the heroes."

"The situation feels very American!" Midoriya said in a gushing tone, but you were in no mood for anyone else bullshit.

"Teams and opponents will be determined by drawing lots!" All Might then held up a box that said 'Lots' on the side. You felt your blood boil as no one seemed to realize the biggest problem here.

"They're being decided so haphazardly?" Glasses boy asked, to which Midoriya answered.

"Pros often have to create makeshift teams with heroes from other agencies, so maybe that's why?"

"I see. The discernment to look ahead..." Glasses boy then bowed to All Might. "Please excuse my rudeness!"

"Uh... Y/n?" Kirishima asked timidly next to you, holding up his hands as he watched you shake and glow in pure rage with your eyes tightly shut and your jaw clenched tight enough to break steel. "Are you... okay?"

All Might turned away from the class and raised an arm.

"It's fine. Let's do this quickly!"

That was it, that was your snapping point. Suddenly everyone felt a heatwave come from you and they all backed up as you burst into light and screamed, stars falling around you as you glared at your "teacher".

"CAN I ASK ONE GOD DAMN QUESTION BEFORE ANYONE FUCKIN' INTERRUPT ME AGAIN?!"

Everyone around you went dead silent, looking at you in slight fear and worry as the light from your body dimed, and the heat coming from you slowly disappeared. All Might turned around and looked at you in shock, he'd seen and been around some pretty... loud students, but you were certainly someone to look at.

You growled at the attention and rubbed a hand over you're eyes.

"Thank you! Fuck!..." You glare at All Might and gesture to the class with your hand's wideout, giving the man as much attitude as possible which made your classmates look at you in shock and awe.

"How the fuck are we supposed to go 2v2 if there's 21 of us?" You finally asked, dropping your arms and looking around at everyone. "Am I the only one that noticed there's an odd number of us, we can't go 2v2 without leaving someone out."

You let a huge sigh go from your chest, a cloud of smoky stardust left your mouth as you crossed your arms and waited for an answer. Everyone stared at you, some looked at you like you were crazy, some in fear, some thought you were far too angry for no reason, and a few thought of you as a badass.

Bakugo was thinking you had balls of pure steel, you not only yell at a teacher but swore at him too. And he was the number one hero in Japan, and you just yelled and swore at him like it was just some guy you met on the street.

His respect for you immediately went up.

"Well.." All Might was definitely thrown for a loop, he definitely was not ready to be yelled at by a 15-year-old. "Since you pointed it out, you will be in the first round--"

"To get the 3-on-2 over with?" You question while raising a brow at him, you roll your eyes and pop your hip to one side. "Marvelous..."

All Might was not expecting there to be someone ... like you in the class, from what he saw that morning, none of the kids were being disrespectful to Aizawa. He wanted to believe it was because the students were respectful, and not that they were scared of the erasure hero which was most likely the case.

But looking at you in the eyes, he saw blatant hate and distrust in your eyes, you weren't even trying to hide how much you didn't like him. All Might had come across hate many a time in his life, it came with being number one, but this one was definitely different.

It was one he would expect... from a Villian he had beaten. But... you were just a kid. He'd never met you before... at least, he doesn't think he has.

"W-well, let's begin then!"

-----

Pulling lots you were placed on the hero team A with Midoriya and Uraraka (which was definitely her name), and going against you was Bakugo and glasses boy (who you were told his name was Iida so... there's that).

All Might explained that the villains had five minutes to prepare and get into their roles, and if it went too far he would stop the fight. You leaned on the building as you, Midoriya, and Uraraka waited for it all to start and started memorizing the building layout.

"It's a lot of work to memorize the building's floor plan," Uraraka said, then looked up at the building. "But All Might is just the same as when he's on TV."

Her statement made you roll your eyes because you knew for a fact that he wasn't all smiles and good heroics. Heros don't leave a child behind...

"Unlike Mr. Aizawa, it looks like there's no punishment," She then looked to you with a smile then over to Midoriya. "so we can relax and-- You're not relaxed at all!"

You turn to look at Midoriya, who did in fact look like he was gonna pass out. You put the paper in your hand away and walked to stand in front of him while he explained.

"Well, it's because... we're up against Kacchan... And there's Iida, too, so I feel like I need to be on guard..."

You nod and cross your arms, Uraraka speaking up while looking at him.

"I see. Bakugo's the one who makes fun of you, right?"

Midoriya's once stiff posture went lax and he looked down at the ground.

"He's amazing. He's a piece of work, but his goal, his confidence, his physical strength, and his quirk. are way more amazing than mine."

You took a few steps back as he stood up facing you then the building, putting his mask on in the process.

"But that's why right now... I don't want... to lose..."

You looked at him for a moment, seeing his concentration then turned to Uraraka who was smiling at him.

"A fated battle between men, huh?"

You felt yourself chuckle a bit at her comment, Midoriya sweating and holding up his hands to her.

"Oh, sorry, this isn't either of your problems, Uraraka, Uchukyuzo."

You roll your eyes and put your hands on your hips.

"Just Y/n is fine, Midoriya. Besides, it is our problem. We're all on a team, right? Unless that changed when I wasn't looking."

You give a tiny smile, Uraraka quickly nodding her head at your words.

"She's right! We're a team." She then threw one of her hands into the air. "Let's do our best!"

You watched Midoriya smile and nod at her, and you had to hold back on ruining the moment since they were acting cute. You weren't the kind of person who was open about feelings, most of it was covered up by humor or small actions.

Because of a certain someone among other people, words didn't really mean anything to you anymore.

"Now, let's start the indoor person-to-person combat training with Team A and Team D!"

You, Uraraka, and Midoriya looked up at the building hearing All Might's voice, then you all gave each other a solid nod. Midoriya lead you and Uraraka to an open window of the building, before he could go in you waved him to the side.

"Let me go first," You then jumped up, looking down the hall in front of you then to the side before jumping inside. You allowed Midoriya and Uraraka to come in after you, Midoriya looking to you with a raised brow.

"Why did you want to go first?" He whispered.

"Because I'm the only one in this group that can take a hit and use that to my advantage."

Midoriya seemed to have an ah-ha moment and mumbled something about a notebook.

"We've infiltrated successfully!" Uraraka states, which you nod then look to Midoriya. He began walking down the hallway your guys' left.

"There are a lot of blind spots, so let's be careful."

"More reason I should be in front." You told him, and he was hesitant since you were his teammate, not a meat shield, but from your intense stare which made him sweat a little, he settled into the spot between you and Uraraka with you leading and him telling you where to go.

With every corner you checked, you nod to him and allow him to point where you will go next. All of you were on high alert, but you felt as if you were even more so. Not only were you paying attention to every little vibration that came from the ground beneath your feet, but the curved part of your mask behind your ears also made you far more aware of the noises around you, including the irritating noise of Uraraka's heels.

Coming to another corner you stopped the group, looking both ways, then nodding to Midoriya who motioned for you to turn down the hall on your right.

Halfway through the hallway, however, you stopped the group with ears perked and wide eyes. Before Midoriya could ask what it was, you all saw Bakugo fly out of the corner. Clearly he was expecting Midoriya to be in front, but that didn't stop him from screaming out and aiming past you and to Midoriya's head. You pushed Midoriya and Uraraka out of the way, getting grazed in the back by Bakugo's explosion.

You landed on your knees in front of them but quickly turned and shielded them both, looking back with a quick glance as Midoriya and Uraraka checked if the other was okay. You curse under your breath, seeing half of Midoriya's mask blown off meaning you didn't protect him enough for him not to at least have gotten a scratch.

In the midst of the smoke, Bakugo threw out his hand to dissipate the smoke faster, glaring over your shoulder at Midoriya.

"Come Deku, don't dodge and hide behind her."

Still kneeling on the ground next to Uraraka, Midoriya glared over your shoulder back at Bakugo.

"I figured you'd come for me first." He then stood and took steps to be next to you, you slightly more in front of him than he would have liked.

You may get these two have some kind of rivalry but you'd be damned if you were to lose because you didn't protect your team. You watched as Bakugo charged you and Midoriya, hands ready to blow.

"I won't do so much damage that this fight gets stopped, but I'm gonna get close!"

You stood ready for the attack that he leads with his right arm, but suddenly you were pulled back and pushed down to the ground behind you by Midoriya. You glared at him as he grabbed Bakugo, flipping him over his shoulder and slamming him into the ground, all while Uraraka gushed about him.

You moved back when he slammed Bakugo on the ground, standing to your feet and glaring at Midoriya. You clenched your jaw and fists tightly, but he ignored you and Uraraka completely for Bakugo, who slowly got up from the ground.

"Kacchan... You usually start with a big right swing. How much do you think I've been watching you?"

Both you and Bakugo were no glaring at the green-haired boy as he continued.

"I wrote an analysis for all the heroes I thought were amazing in my notebook. In the notebook you blew up and threw away." He then looked up and held a strong stare at Bakugo. "My "Deku" isn't always going to mean "useless"! Kacchan, my "Deku" means "You can do it"!"

You glare and roll your eyes at them both as Bakugo stood to his feet and faced away from you and Uraraka for 'Deku' instead.

"Deku... Even though you're scared... That's what I hate about you!"

"Oh boo-hoo!" You scream at them, glaring specifically at Midoriya. Both boys looked at you, Midoriya in confusion and Bakugo in irritation. You weren't his target after all.

"So you guys have so bullshit rival dick measuring contest, good for you! That doesn't give you the right to push away your teammate!!" You point your finger at Midoriya, who looked at you in guilt as you said this.

Just as you did, Bakugo touched something on his ear and grumbled out.

"Just shut up and defend. I'm really angry right now!"

You were still glaring at Midoriya as Bakugo threw his arms out and got ready to fight again, Midoriya looking on and then yelling to you and Uraraka.

"Uraraka, Y/n, go!"

You stood still as Uraraka made a bolt down the hall, you growled at the green-haired boy.

"You want your whole team to leave you!?"

"Looking away? You must be sure of yourself." Bakugo said, just barely being blocked by Midoriya who was pulling out the capture tape. Bakugo threw another blow at him, making him duck and dash out of the way, all while he looked to you.

"Just go!"

You clench your fists, letting your head drop before facing the ceiling and screaming at the top of your lungs. It made Bakugo briefly look your way before turning back to his real target, Midoriya just prayed that if he survived this training, he would survive what came after when you looked back at him with a look that made him frankly more scared of you than his childhood friend fighting him.

Little did you know, your eyes were no longer white with your natural colored irises. No, now they were glossed over with what can only be described as the dust cloud of a galaxy. Stardust like puffs of air came from your mouth as you heaved and glared at him from across the way.

You said nothing but gave him a look that said you and he will talk later, then turned around and ran after Uraraka. Turning a corner, you quickly reacted by grabbing her shoulders and spinning as to not knock you both over.

She had been waiting for you around the corner, and though you were pissed as fuck at Midoriya you were glad she waited. You and she ran through the building, quietly at first, but then she felt the need to talk to you.

"Y/n?"

"What."

"I know what Deku did earlier made you upset but--"

"I'm not upset." You growled, still running beside her as you gripped the top of your head tightly. "I'm fuckin' pissed!! We are a goddamn team and he decides now is the best time to catch up on a childhood rivalry?!"

Uraraka watched as stardust came of you like a waterfall, she would have found it pretty if it weren't so hot running next to you.

"He has a plan, I'm sure!" She said somewhat confidently.

"Whatever the fuck is going on in his head is not our problem now," You growl as you both make your way up to a higher part in the building. "We are up against that one fast kid, right?"

You both began to slow down, now on a higher level, you both realized it would be best to stealth now. She nods at you, standing behind you as you lead the way for you both.

"His name is Iida."

"Right, sure." You waved off. "He's fast, which means he's mobile. Luckily for us, as of right now because of someone... we still have a slight upper hand 2-to-1."

You stopped both of you in the hallway, Uraraka looking at you with confusion. You calmed down so you looked back to normal, but she still had to hold herself back from gushing about how cool you were to her.

"And your quirk is...." You trail off to let her finish, seeing as the only thing of her quick you've seen is from the test you guys took this morning.

"Gravity!" She quickly answered, showing you her hands that had little pads on each of her fingers like the paw of a puppy or a kitten. "I can make things float then release them."

You nod.

"That's useful."

You turn back and motion for her to follow.

It didn't take you both long to find where they were holding the 'weapon', you were hidden behind a pillar with her. She turned ready to talk to Midoriya through the earpieces they had, you opted out of wearing one as it would make it hard for you to absorb natural sounds for your quirk.

You both stopped as the Iida boy started talking to himself.

"Bakugo is a natural at being bad, but that fits this training perfectly. Then I must also devote myself to being a villain. That's right. This is another trial to turn me into a man who will not bring shame to the Iida family. Become a villain! Be dyed with evil in order to become a hero!"

All you could do was raise your brow in confusion, slightly feeling as if you nor Uraraka were supposed to see this rant of his.

"I am..." He turned the way you guys were, and 'evil' look in his eye. "... extremely evil!"

Uraraka sputtered next to you loudly, making you turn her way and shake your head. As... weird and funny as what just occurred was, she just blew both of your guys' covers.

"Have you arrived, Uraraka, Uchukyuzo?"

For some reason she seemed shocked you were both found, walking out into the open so he could see her. You rolled your eyes and did the same, standing slightly more in front of her to protect her.

He then dramatically pointed at you both.

"I knew you, Uraraka, would come here the instant Bakugo ran off by himself. Uchukyuzo, I was sure you would fight Bakugo but no matter. Uraraka, your quirk allows you to make the object you touch float. That is why I put away all the things on this floor before you arrived."

Looking around, you then just realized how spotless the floor was and was kinda impressed.

"Now you cannot play your little tricks! You have blundered, heroes!" He then laughed like... well, a villain.

"He's starting to look... Like a villain...!" Uraraka whispered to you, you gave her an irritated look from over your shoulder.

"Who cares? Contact Midoriya and tell him what's going on, I'll protect you." You then positioned yourself fully in front of her to block Iida's view from her as she quietly spoke to Midoriya. You prepared yourself in a fighting stance as you watch Iida slowly make his way to you, you weren't sure if he actually knew what your quirk was or not, but you were determined to protect Uraraka and win this training.

Suddenly, you all felt the whole building shake violently. You began to feel a giddy feeling in your chest with how much energy you'd collected but not used, you knew as your skin started to feel warmer that you wouldn't be able to hold it all for too long.

You turned to look at Uraraka as Iida contacted Bakugo.

"You alright?"

She shakily nods her head.

"What was that...? You don't think..."

"Bakugo, answer me! Did you do that? What in the world did you do?"

You and Uraraka looked to each other and nod, this was your chance. She ran head-on while you hid behind a pillar, if Iida goes after her, you'll have a chance to grab the weapon and win.

You ran to another pillar as Uraraka jumped over Iida using her Quirk on herself, quickly you hid behind another pillar.

"Release!"

You heard a clicking sound before suddenly the weapon was moved out of her way, causing her to scream while she fell to the floor, rolling and hitting the back wall upside-down. You, still hidden away from Iida's sight, curled the overlay part of your costume around you to hid better as you listened to him speak.

"Your quirk is not a threat if you cannot touch anything. I'll hold out until time runs out!" He then starts laughing and you watch Uraraka sit up and glare over her shoulder at him, you still staying hidden.

You prayed for her not to expose you to his sight or let him have any hint you were still there, if you could, you could catch him off guard and grab the weapon from behind him while Uraraka distracted him from the front.

How you were going to communicate that with her was still coming to your head, but looking back at her you saw her quietly talking. You realized she was talking to Midoriya, but you didn't have an earpiece and were too far away for her to tell you the plan.

If you got too close to her, your spot would be outted. If you stayed where you were, you couldn't tell her your plan nor could you know what she and Midoriya were planing.

It was like...

You suddenly felt like you couldn't breathe, as if every part of you was being suffocated and pressed down around you...

They... forgot about you...

Looking out from behind the pillar, you watch as Uraraka stared down Iida, and Iida didn't know you were there. Leaning back on the pillar facing away from them both, you grabbed at your chest desperately trying to grab air and breathe. You felt a sting in your eyes and you covered your mouth as you felt like screaming and vomiting at the same time.

Flashes of what happened so many years ago came to your mind... Years of waiting and waiting for a hero to save you, to come for you like he said he would... like he promised he would.

He forgot... he looked you in the eyes and he forgot... he promised and he--

"Okay!"

Your already wide eyes grow wider as you heard Uraraka speak, and without even thinking you ran out into the middle of the room. You needed to remember you weren't actually alone right now, that there were other people around.

You needed it...

You needed it...

"Y/N! MO-"

You looked down as the floor cracked around your feet, then with a suddenness, you couldn't even begin to describe, you felt your self get barrier under debris.

... Or maybe crushed?

Your sense of direction was no longer intact as everything around you hurt, you felt a horrible pain in your back before everything went black.

---------

The class of 1-A stood in awe and horror of the monitors in front of them, of what they had just witnessed of their classmates.

"Hero..." All Might said into the mic held tightly in his grasp. "Hero team...... wins!"

Even as he says this, the teens around him stare at the screens that showed Iida tending to Uraraka who was reeling and nauseous. And Midoriya, who laid past out on the floor in front of Bakugo who was too stunt to move.

"What the heck?" Kaminari spoke through the silence of the class. "The losers are practically uninjured, and the winners are on the ground..."

"They lost the battle, but won the war, huh?" Tokoyami, the boy cloaked in black with the head of a dark bird spoke next.

"This is training, though." Asui was next to speak solely, but they were all silent as the next boy to speak screamed.

"Where's Y/n!?" It was Kirishima, the boy who became quick friends to the star-like girl. The camera feed that was tracking her was not long in use, only showing static of black and white.

Kirishima watched her attitude change towards the climax of the battle, the way her body shook, and the vacancy in her eyes made his heart drop in worry and he wondered what it was that made her change. What was it that made her run into the thick of the battle without looking back?

She was crying, and as a man, he couldn't let a girl cry and not help. He couldn't let his friend cry and not help.

He screamed again at his teacher again who was searching the cams for the student who yelled at him with an anger that rivaled a villain, the student that was hit full force unknowingly with All Of One.

"WHERE IS SHE?!"

"Kirishima..." He felt another one of his new friends, Sero, place a hand on his shoulder, but he was in no mood for comfort.

He wanted to know that he didn't just watch his friend die.

Suddenly, the static cam focused. It was the camera that was placed on her person as the other students had in case the cams in the building couldn't find them.

The cam glitched every now and then and it was dark, with only cracks of light showing through. Then, ever so slowly, the light came full-on.

In the frame was a shaking, bruised, and bloodied hand, that reached for the light which turned out to be the ever clear sky.

The students watched in horror a the camera switched to one that was placed on the roof.

Under copious amounts of rubble and debris was their galaxy covered classmate, bloodied and broken and clawing her way out of the mess she was buried under. The blood that leaked from her frame was a mix of deep red and a glittering star pattern, almost like the ink from a red pen dipped into the white speckled dots of the night sky.

Not being able to stare any longer, Kirishima pushed some classmates out of the way and slamming his way out the door. He ran as fast as he possibly could, ignoring his teacher's cries from him to stay in the room.

He wasn't going to sit back and watch his friend struggle for life on her first day of school, the first day of her real school. As far as he knew, she was a girl who moved too much and was home-schooled, being she most likely didn't have many friends. Kirishima was going to be the best damn friend she ever had, meaning he would protect her as she had him when they first met.

-------

After everyone finished their tests, they gathered in front of the exit in front of their teacher.

"Good work everyone! We didn't have any major injuries other than Young Midoriya and Young Uchukyuzo, either! You guys took this on seriously! You all did a good job for your first training!"

Asui raised her hand to speak.

"To have such a proper class after Mr. Aizawa's class... It's kind of anticlimactic..."

All the students feel the same, a group of them nodding in agreement to her statement. Despite this, All Might did his best to keep an upbeat attitude.

"We're free to have proper classes, as well! Well then, I must review the results with Young Mirdoriya and Young Uchukyuzo! Change and return...  to the classroom!"

Without much time left, All Might made his quick escape, leaving all the students baffled at his exit.

If only he was telling the truth... about our girl in the stars...

-----

Because of the overabundance of power you gained from the blast that hit you, Recovery Girl was able to heal you all the way, with you feeling just tired enough for a nap. You told her you were fine to leave many times, but she almost hit you when you tried to leave and told you to rest at least a little bit longer.

She realized that the stamina she used to heal you was actually the energy you had stored away, she was glad to know you wouldn't have to heal slowly as Midoriya would. You laid in a bed next to his behind a curtain, you had slept enough and felt fine, but you knew she would just get on you again if you tried to leave so you pretend to sleep while she cared for Midoriya on the other side of the curtain.

Besides, the bed was actually comfy as fuck.

You heard someone come in, you weren't sure who it was but you kept as quiet and still as possible, almost pretending you were dead... or close to it so you could eavesdrop.

"The school year has just begun, and he's already been in here three times!" You heard recovery girl scold whoever it was that was in the room with you, feeling a slight stinging in your heart and eyes as she didn't even mention you at all.

"Why didn't you stop him, All Might?"

You flinched, then opened your eyes wide, slowly turning your head as to not make noise. The curtain was in the way so you couldn't see much, but the shadow of the figure was not at all the height of All Might nor as muscular as him.

Could... she be wrong? She was old... but she didn't seem the type to be wrong about who she was talking to... But... that... can't be All Might...

Right?

"I apologize, Recovery Girl." His voice was deep and sounded like a calmer version of All Might...

Was this really All Might?

Like the ninja and forgotten child you were, you slowly made your way off the bed, silently glad you didn't change out of your hero costume and stay on the balls of your bare feet.

You made sure not to push or move the certain as you carefully look past them to see who was there, you hear beating quickly in your ears at the need to stay quiet.

"What are you apologizing to me for?"

Your eyes go as wide as saucers when you see that oh so familiar red, yellow, and blue costume. He was skinny as hell and his face was sunken in, his blonde hair was a mess with two long strands framing his skinny face. And the eyes.

You saw Recovery Girl move in the corner of your eye and quickly moved back behind the curtain, successfully doing so without causing a draft to move the curtain.

"On top of his total exhaustion, he was here just yesterday. I can't treat him all at once. I did first-aid treatment already, so after the IV is finished, we can only wait for his body to heal slowly overnight."

You heard her chair move again so you slowly poked your head out to watch the unsuspecting adults once more, still in shock that the man standing there was actually All Might.

What happened to him? Was e suddenly hit with a quirk that made him look weak when you were out? You were pretty sure there was no one like that in your class... Why did he look like you after he left you alone for years?

"Jeez, I know he's your favorite and that you passed on your powers to him, but doesn't mean you should spoil him!"

'passed on his powers?' You went back behind the curtains and slowly made your way back over to the bed, you knew who was in the room now and really all you wanted to do now was listen. You got back in bed just in time for Recovery Girl to mention you, which made you quickly close your eyes and fake sleep.

"Not only that, but he also ended up injuring another student life-threateningly because you didn't stop it!"

You heard shuffling before 'All Might' spoke quietly.

"Is she in here?" You had a feeling he as speaking about you.

"Of course she is, where else would she be?"

"Then should we not speak of this here?" You heard his underlining panic, then heard movement coming your way.

You heard the curtains move, your eyes closed as you faked a deep sleep, as if you weren't at all listening to everything they were saying.

"Her powers allowed me to heal her perfectly fine, and though she told me she could leave, I told her to stay for rest. She's in deep sleep now, she's been sleeping for a long while now. She's strong, but I could tell that even before her injuries she was tired."

The was silence for a moment, then All Might spoke up.

"She... Doesn't seem to like me."

"Did you realize this before or after your underling almost killed her?"

You heard him sigh.

"She... yelled at me before the class had really even started. She gave attitude and didn't like any word that came from my mouth... she looked at me like was a monster... I hadn't really expected that from a student."

"Please," Recovery girl commented. "you are probably being over dramatic. She's a teen after all. Besides, once again, I doubt she will be fond of you when she wakes up."

The curtains moved again and it sounded like they returned to the spots they were in before.

"You know, if it were anyone else who took that lethal hit from raw One For All, they would be dead."

There was a long drag of silence, you yourself thought about what happened as well. It was true, if you had any other quirk, you wouldn't be here now. Your ability to absorb energies and use them like an exploding star was the only reason you took that blast so well.

Sure, it fucked you up badly, but to have that much energy left in your body to allow Recovery Girl to heal you completely was almost like God telling you to be thankful for your quirk.

"I think you should become closer to her since you are so sure she hates you. After this, your image in her eyes will no doubt be damage, so make things right with her. Just because this boy holds your powers now, doesn't give you the right to ignore your other students simply because they are not him."

The silence hung before you heard him sigh.

"There is nothing I can say to that. Because I wanted to consider his feelings, I hesitated to stop the training match. Even so... will you please not talk about One For All so loudly?"

'To late you piece of shit, secrets out' You thought to yourself in your head, you weren't going to let up on your underlining hate for him anytime soon. Especially now that you learned that he's playing favorites with Midoriya, who you had beef with after he pushed your help away during the test and almost killed you.

Granted, you ran out into the open with no plan, but it was his and Uraraka's fault for doing something so dangerous in the building in the first place. If that weapon hand been real and they pulled that shit, you would have all been dead or close to it.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Natural-Born Hero. Mr. Symbol of Peace." Recovery Girl responded, it made you wonder what All Might's personality was really like, but your anger for him shoved that thought away as you continued to listen.

"My injury and this form of mine are common knowledge among the U.A. teachers and a certain group of pros, but the secret of my quirk, One For All, is known only to you, the principal, my close friends, and Young Midoriya."

Your eyes, now open, glared at the ceiling above you.

'And now I know... I wonder how he would feeling knowing there was a rouge person who knew his 'secret' now?'

"I know it's not like you want to rest on your laurels at the top," Recovery Girl interjected. "but is being a 'natural-born hero' or the 'Symbol of Peace' really that important?"

"If I no longer am, then the superhuman society will be seized by evil." You heard him respond, and it took everything in you not to scoff at his words.

It's quite bold of him to think so highly of himself.

'Take a step down from your high horse, asshole, and try walking a mile in my life.' you turn your head and glare at the shadow of him behind the curtain.

'I bet you wouldn't last an hour..'

"This is the responsibility of those of us with this power."

It was silent for another moment longer before Recovery Girl spoke up.

"If that's the case, then it's even more important for you to learn what it means to guide someone."

"Yes, ma'am."

You heard some shuffling then the door to the room open and close, and not even caring about being caught anymore, you sit up in the bed and turn to face the window.

Once upon a time... he promised to guide you. He promised to protect you...

And all you had to do... was wait for him.

But nobody came...

"I suspect you heard all of that, young lady?"

You didn't turn to know she was talking to you, you could feel her eyes on your back as you stared out the window.

"I'm not really surprised you knew I was awake," You sigh, letting your chin touch your chest as you drop your head. You then slightly look over your shoulder at her, raising a brow at her. "if you knew I was awake... how come you didn't tell him?"

She walked over to your side, standing at your right and looking at you with a caring glance.

"You deserve to know, after what happened to you with you and his underling." She looking out the window and you looked as well while she kept talking. "Whatever the case may be in your opinion of him before all this, you have a right to be angry."

You sigh and run a hand over your head and rub your neck, closing your eyes and thinking over everything you learned.

"You're not worried that my hate will make it easy for me to tell others?"

"You don't seem the type to spill secrets," She looks over at you in the eyes. "Even if you wanted to you."

You hated how right she was, you hate him, sure... but you wouldn't out him like that. No matter if you wanted to.

"Guess you're right..." Standing from the bed, you play with your costume as you look to her. "Am I allowed to leave now?"

She let out a sigh.

"Kids these days, don't know what rest is do you?"

You half-smile and shrug, walking past her with a thank you and a bow before leaving. Outside the door you stop and sigh, looking down both sides of the hall before walking back to your class.

You all know what they say.

No rest for the wicked... at least, not from where we stand.

-----

You got out much earlier than Midoriya, luckily for him since if you saw him walking around you would have put him back in the nurses' office anyway.

Kirishima was the first to greet you when you got back, explaining how worried he was and how even though you didn't do too much, the fact that you took that hit full force and lived was manly as hell.

It made you laugh and feel a little bit better, you'd never had someone compliment you before meeting him, let alone had anyone really worry about you.

Next to come to you was Uraraka and Iida.

Uraraka was basically in tears apologizing again and again for letting that happen to you, Iida was also apologizing about not grabbing you fast enough.

You assured Uraraka that no you didn't hate her (that much) and that you weren't sure of her and Midoriya's plan so it was mostly your fault, and you told Iida that you weren't on his team so it wasn't his job to keep you safe.

After that classes went to normal, if not for having Kirishima checking on you a lot, which was very sweet.

The one you were surprised was so silent was the boy behind you, he was quiet almost the whole time, which honestly freaked you out more than him screaming in your face. And, in actuality, upon seeing his quirk you felt like you two were quite similar.

But only the quirk is similar, other than that you both were very different.

Either way... you were hoping to talk to him about it. As hot-headed as he may seem, you could tell he was strong and smart. With similar quirks, you both could learn something.

After classes was done, Kirishima asked if you wanted to wait for Midoriya like some of your classmates.

You rolled your eyes.

"Pass."

Kirishima's hands dropped and he looks a little sad, Uraraka was there and looked at you sadly as well.

"You're still mad?"

You looked at her, then to Kirishima, then down at your body which surprisingly enough was still aching.

"Nah, it's okay that he threw out teamwork to have some dick-measuring contest with this kid," You point your thumb at Bakugo who was quietly getting ready to leave, him glaring and growling at you when you spoke of him. "and then when he finally does use teamwork he uses it with only you and basically almost killed me on the first day of school..."

Everyone present in the room was silent, even Bakugo who was staring at the back of your head.

You roll your eyes and pick up your school bag, walking past everyone to the doors of the class.

"Yeah, no shit I'm still fuckin' mad. For his sake and yours, I'll leave so I don't send him into the hospital instead of the nurse. But, ya know, have fun praising the kid... We all know he deserves it, right?"

You glare at everyone across the room then slam the door so hard is slide open again then slowly drifts shut just from the shear strength you put behind it, and you made your way out of the building as fast as possible.

Of course, you were mad! You were mad about a lot of things right now!

He almost killed you, he's the underling to All Might whose picking favorites with him, All Might's true form in weak as fuck, All Might himself is your god damn teacher, and you don't have any food for dinner so you're gonna have to either steal or look in the trash where you belong and live.

So yeah, you're pissed.

Why did someone like him get picked by All Might to have his powers? What about him made him worthy of that privilege? What did All Might see in him--

"... That he didn't see in me?" You mumbled the last part to yourself quietly, stopping just outside the school's front entrance past the huge gate.

You felt a familiar sting in your eyes and nose just thinking about it all.

Why didn't All Might come back for you? Were you really that forgettable? Were you really that easy to manipulate and get rid of? Were they all right? That All Mighty is the worst of the worst when it comes to respectable heroes?

... Should you do what they told you to so long ago and join them in really thinking about killing--

"Kacchan!"

Your eyes went wide and you quickly hid, glancing behind the gate to see Bakugo walking out of the school with his head down and Midoriya running after him. You were so caught up in your own mind you forgot you had wanted to talk with Bakugo, so you would eavesdrop (again) and hope whatever conversation that was going to happen would hurry so you could finally talk with Bakugo.

Bakugo stopped walking and glared at Midoriya over his shoulder, which in turn made Midoriya stop not too far from him. He looked nervous and that he was debating with himself.

"There's one thing I feel like I have to tell you." Midoriya said, and you leaned closer while still hidden trying to listen in.

Part of your brain slightly mocked you in a villainous tone.

'Old habits die hard, don't they, Y/n?'

You shake it off and continue listening.

"My quirk is something I received from someone else."

'Oh, was that it? I knew that already.' You thought as you roll your eyes.

"I can't say who I got it from, though!" Midoriya continued, and without really knowing it, you were glaring at him just as hard as Bakugo was.

"I won't... But it's like a story out of comic books, except it's true. On top of that, I still can't control it properly." He was looking down the whole time while he was speaking, but he clenched his hand as he said the next thing. "I hurt Y/n really badly..."

"It's just a borrowed power that I haven't made my own yet. That's why... I tried to beat you without using it. But in the end, I couldn't win and had to rely on it."

You saw how Bakugo began to shake at this point, and honestly, you were with him. To act like all of that justifies his actions...

"I've still got a long way to go... That's why--"

Bakugo was actually shaking now, and you had to bit your lip to stop the laugh you could feel growing in your throat. Midoriya put his good hand on his cast and continued his pointless speech.

"One day, I will make this quirk my own and beat you with my own power!"

You held a hand over your mouth to stop the urge to yell at him, knowing this moment had nothing to do with you and just let it all play out.

For a moment the two boys just stared at each other before all hell broke loose.

"What the hell is that?" Bakugo turned around, now facing him head-on. "'Borrowed power'? You're talking nonsense. What are you trying to do, make me out to be more of a fool than you already have? Huh?"

You could feel a ping in your heart for the explosive boy as he became more and more emotional, it seems that you weren't the only one emotionally torn by today's dumb training.

"What are you trying to say? Today, I lost to you... That's all it was... That's all... As I watched the ice guy, I thought, "I can't beat him"!"

Bakugo than grabbed his face as he got more and more frustrated.

"Damn it! I ended up agreeing with what that ponytail girl said! Damn it! Damn it, damn it! Hey, you too, Deku! I'm just... I'm just getting started! You hear? Here, I will become number one!"

You slowly brought a hand up to your fast beating heart as your cheeks flushed and your mind went completely blank of anything but the blonde-haired, ruby eyes boy whose words were like an arrow to the heart.

You suddenly felt a shift in your person, as if everything you'd ever really understood went to a violent halt and took a step back. You weren't at all expecting his words to affect you, but as you gripped the place above your heart you couldn't stop your feelings from changing.

You didn't see Bakugo as a classmate, or just an angry boy anymore...

You saw him as a boy you wanted to walk beside as an equal, on the same level as him as power, strength, intelligence, learn from him, to trust him, just to be...

"with him..." You whispered, watching Bakugo turn and angrily wipe at his eyes with his sleeve, walking away towards where you hid behind the front gate.

"You won't beat me again, bastard!"

You watched Midoriya's body go lax, most likely from being so stiff in front of Bakugo, and your eyes go wide as you then all of a sudden hear the voice you didn't want to hear right now.

"There he is! Young... Bakugo!" All Might was quickly behind Bakugo, who was still covering his face with his arm, while All Might place his hands on both of Bakugo's shoulders.

"Just so you know, pride is important. You definitely have the abilities needed to become a pro. You still have a lot of--"

"Let go of me, All Might. I can't walk."

Seemingly confused, All Might looked at Bakugo, who in return turned slightly over his shoulder to glare.

"I'll become a hero that surpasses even you without you telling me!"

"Huh?" All Might let go of Bakugo, who quickly turned away with his arms still blocking his face. "Uh, right."

You watched Bakugo walking closer to you, which made you step out from behind the gate and look at him in a telling way. He glared as he passed you, and you let him.

You turned and saw Midoriya and All Might still standing in front of the school. Midoriya was looking at you in horror, surprised that you were there at that you possibly over heard, and All Might was also surprised to see you.

But you stared at them blankly before turning away and taking quick steps to follow Bakugo.

"Hey, Bakugo, wait up!" You jogged after him but he didn't respond, you ran in front of him and stopped in his path, forcing him to not only stop but look at you.

"The hell do you want, shitty star girl?" He glares at you. "Do you always listen in on other peoples conversations or was that right reserved for me?"

"Oddly enough, you and broccoli head were not the only conversation I spied on today." You comment, shrugging your shoulders at him.

"What do you want?" He asked again.

"I think you and I should be friends."

"Go to hell." He then tried to walk past you but you put your hands out and stopped him with a nod.

"Fair enough, but more than that, I think you and I would be great partners."

"Huh?" He sneered and raised a brow at you, you didn't notice it because of the sun's lighting but his cheeks turned a little pink.

"For training? It's undeniable that you and I have similar quirks, or...are you not as smart as I thought you were?"

He groans and rolls his eyes.

"What the hell is your point, star girl?!"

"My point is we can learn from each other." You finally said, throwing your hands out. He scoffed.

"What would I have to learn from you?"

"Well, for one, have you ever tried letting out short bursts instead of full-on hits every time?"

He was quiet and still glaring, but in his head, he started to think about that strategically.

"Or, using the heat of your blasts to your advantages?"

"What the hell would you get out of this then, huh?" He countered, looking you up and down. You smile and cross your arms.

"You're smart, you're strong, you see things differently than I do. I just want to study with you and become as strong as you."

He scoffs again, covering up the fact that his heart jumped at the compliments that came from you.

"Like I would study with a dumb ass like you."

"Fair, but all I'm saying is to think about it, okay?" You reason, waving your hand around in front of you. "I'll be honest with you, this is my first time in school ever. I've never been to school before this, so there's a lot going on that I don't really understand.

"I get it, you've got a lot of pride, and that's admirable to a point. Where ever you were before in school, you aren't at that spot now, and I get it. It sucks, trust me. To be so close to victory only to have it stole, I get it."

He was silent as you talked, unknowingly hanging off your every word. Unlike Midoriya, he actually wanted to hear what you had to say... Like you said, new views. He had his view and you had yours, and despite every bit of pride in his body telling him not to, he could see that what you were saying was pretty true.

You both would benefit from allying together.

"Again, you don't have to make that choice right now, hell, you don't even have to give me an answer in a week. Just think about it, and when you find the answer, pull me aside at school."

"Huh? Your not gonna try and 'hang' with me outside of school?" He questioned, usually he suspected this is the part you'd give him your number. (putting aside the fact that he actually wanted it).

You sigh and look off to the side.

"For one, I don't have a phone. And I guess we can hang outside of school, but only if you want to and it can never be where I live."

"Huh?" He looks at you skeptical, and you just hoped he wouldn't ask why not go to your house.

You both stand in silence for a moment, and you looked at him in the eyes.

"Think about it, okay?"

He stares at you for a moment longer, then scoffs and looks away with a slight pout.

"Fine, just move so I can go home."

"Right, sorry." You move out of his way, and he walks past you with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

He didn't get far before you called out to him again.

"Bakugo!"

"Oh my god! What the fuck else do you want!?" He yells irritated, turning to glare at you. You smile at him and wave your hand.

"Thank you for listening, I know I can be unbearable."

And with that you turn and make your way back to your 'home', Bakugo staring after you, watching you walk away.

He didn't really understand why he stopped to talk to you anyway, but part of him told him he doesn't regret it.

From where he stood, you were someone to watch.

[bewareofchris]

Public Relations 24/??

R atm | Alec Hardy/Dr. Bill Masters | Broadchurch, Masters of Sex | Strong language, eventual sexual situations

“The fact that Alec Hardy was not currently, had not ever, and did not want to date the American sex research did not seem very important at all to the town of Broadchurch.  They did what they had always done with a little bit of juicy gossip: they made a spectacle of it.”

<< prev | Part 1 | AO3 Link

“Good,” said his immaculately dressed wife, when Bill answered the door with his shirt unbuttoned, untucked and unpressed.  She was tugging her gloves off her hands as she breezed past him into the room with the air of a woman who required no invitation.  “I was hoping you’d still be home.”  

She stood at the better end of his crumb-covered sofa with a wrinkled nose and a pointed, pained smile of politeness etched onto her face.  The little marks he’d left on her neck had almost completely faded.  (But the scratch marks she scoured down his back had not healed quite as quickly.)  If she took note of the debris of a hastily tidied coffee table or the distinct smell of a grown man having spent far too much time laying in his filth, she was polite enough not to mention it.

“Libby, I don’t think it’s a good idea.  You.  Being here.”  He pushed the door closed with one hand and pulled his shirt closed with the other.  He felt stupid doing it, but the feeling was commonplace enough now that it didn’t stop him.

“Honestly Bill, the sex wasn’t worth the twenty years preceding it.”

“That’s not fair.  It wasn’t all terrible.”

“It wasn’t all great,” Libby corrected.  But she turned on her heels so she was facing him with an almost regretful stare.  “I don’t want to get into it, Bill.  I don’t.  I’m not interested in rehashing it.  You have your way of seeing our marriage and I have mine.  We’re never going to see it the same because we never wanted the same things.  If we can’t admit that to each other...”

Neither of them knew how that sentence was meant to end.  Bill wasn’t cringing because the words stung.  He wasn’t even looking at Libby anymore.

“I didn’t come here to talk about us,” Libby said again.  “I’m here to ask you, again, to really think about what you’re doing.  To, for the first time in our relationship, put someone else’s needs over your own.”

Bill jerked sideways at that.  At the words, and the meaning behind them, and the implication that he hadn’t ever cared.  (Maybe he hadn’t, what did he know, but it felt like he had.  It felt like he’d put in time, and effort, however little, however infrequently.)  “I’m not giving up my children, Libby.  If that’s what you came for, you can let yourself out!”

“Bill!”  Libby’s steps were loud as drumbeats.  Her hand caught him by the shoulder and she pulled him to stop most of the way to his bedroom.  “Think about it.  You’re in no position to take care of children.  You’re barely in a position to take care of yourself.  There was half a pizza on the floor under your couch, Bill.  Your shirt has wrinkles!  Do you know how much bitching you did about your shirts?  How many times I had to iron them and fold them before I finally did it the way you wanted it done?  Look at this,” she pulled his shirt front away from his body to show him the wrinkles he already knew about.

“They’re my kids too, Libby.  You can’t just decide that they’re yours because you bullied me into them.”

“You never wanted them,” Libby said softly.  “You never held them, you never sang to them--Bill you have a beautiful voice, and you’ve never sang to our children.  Maybe all of this had to happen, maybe we never should have stayed together as long as we did.  But this isn’t about you.  This isn’t about me.  For once, I am begging you, make this choice based on what’s best for your kids.”

It was a terrible thing to ask a man who had never once had a choice made in his favor.  A stark and ugly reminder that neither his mother nor his father had ever once asked themselves what would have been best.  Mother turned her music up in the kitchen and gently closed doors.  She protected herself from the beatings that hadn’t found their way to her.  Father was a sadistic, cold bastard with boxer’s fists.  

“Am I that awful that my children will benefit more from never seeing me again?” Bill asked.

Libby’s hand smoothed down his shirtfront.  Her meanness broke, just a little, and beneath it all the hurt he’d dealt her.  She said, “maybe not always.  But you have work to do.”

Bill was defenseless against the truth.  He nodded his head.  “Fine, fine.  But--But, you’ll send me your address, and phone number and once I…  Once I get settled, we’ll talk about…”

Libby nodded.  “Of course we will, Bill.” 

(The way she said it, with such pity, couldn’t be entirely believed.  Whether the waver in her voice was her lack of faith in him or her lack of ability to keep the promise was unknowable.)

--

I’m returning to work today.  

I don’t know if my continued attempts at conversation are welcome at this point.

I hope you are well.

Bill’s texts came within seconds of one another.  A great flurry of chirpy noises and vibrations from Hardy’s phone.  Across an ocean, the man was working up the courage to go to work at a business he owned.  Hardy was having his afternoon sit down, where he leaned back into his couch and waited to see if his heart was going to keep beating.

It wasn’t a work day for him.  He had spent an hour or two staring at the Sandbrook case files, hoping to make some more sense of the same facts he’d already seen a dozen times.  Miller hadn’t even come in and looked at the past weekend.  Hardy hadn’t minded at the time, because he was tired enough just from the small talk they’d exchanged over dinner.  

Fred had been fussy.  That’s what Miller said.  Fred will just start fussing, and he won’t stop.  

Hardy had stood on his front step thinking about telling her that she could have let the boy sleep on Hardy’s bed.  That there was no need to drive all the way back home.  But he hadn’t said the words, so she had wished him a good night and left.

That was days ago now.  Days of quiet, and awkward attempts to send Miller a text that seemed to be worth the time it took to compose it.  He’d worried over his phone, agonized over a simple message, and in the end just sent her something like (what are we supposed to talk about?)

But these messages were from Bill.  These messages were begging for a response.  These messages didn’t bring him any sort of mean-spirited joy.  

Hardy sighed at himself, at his heart, at his cottage, at Bill, and pulled the phone off the table to type a reply.

Of course I want to talk to you, Hardy said.  (And he left off the bit on the end that went something like: I just don’t want to hear about your stupid sex life.)  Why are you going back if you don��t want to?

That’s a relief, Bill sent all in a rush, and: I made a promise that I have been failing to keep. 

Hardy was working on crafting a reply that conveyed his interest without just blurting out: what promise.  The best he managed was: must be a big promise.  (And he cringed as he sent it.)

I’m going in to meet with my secretary’s wife to talk about the best methods to proceed for getting pregnant.

I’ve never met Betty’s wife.

There was a litany of possible answers to Bill’s statement.  Hardy could invite him to talk about the promise, he could acknowledge what a significant promise it was.  He could ask about Betty (because he’d heard the name, but he hadn’t heard any details).  But he found himself slouching into a more comfortable slant on his couch.  He sent:  I don’t like meeting new people.  

It’s all awkward, everyone wants to tell you their name.  They need you to repeat it.

Then you’ve got to worry, what sort of impression am I making?  Do I need to make a good one?  Am I ever going to meet these people again?  

Bill’s reply was a laugh wrapped up in little letters, he said: what a pair we’d make, never meeting new people for fear of first impressions.

Hardy smiled at the phone, and wished that little glow of warmth in his chest had been a little dimmer.  It was one thing to amuse himself with long conversations and another thing entirely to be confronted with the reality of this growing knot.  Bill had become, without Hardy’s consent, a person that he longed to talk to.  Their conversations never had to be about anything at all.  It only mattered that they had them.

And it was hell when Bill was so casual about their non-existent future.  

Come to Broadchurch, you’ve already made your first impression.

Bill’s answer was immediate: Yes.  A bad one.  And then: I have to go now, maybe we could talk later?  I could call?

Hardy was a fool, but he said: That would be fine.

--

Bill was not, despite appearances, avoiding Virginia.

(Or maybe he was.  She didn’t seem bothered by his avoidance.  She was helping in her own way, always going left when he went right.  It was a companionable co-avoidance of the other.)

Betty cleared her throat when Bill leaned back in his chair so he wasn’t as visible through the doorway when Virginia walked past.  She was tapping her fingertips on the table, frowning at him for being a coward.  “If you want, I could get up and close the door.”

“No,” Bill said, “don’t be silly.”  But he didn’t lean forward again until Virginia had passed and the sound of her heels were no longer audible in the hall.  “Now, should we start or would you like to wait until your wife arrives?”

“Helen is always a little late,” Betty assured him, “I would have brought her in with me this morning, but she had a client that was paying double to get her hair done this morning.  If you want I can go until she gets here, let you get back to work.”  She paused a second, just long enough stare at him with her disbelieving eyebrows, “in your office.” (As far from Virginia as he could get without leaving the building.)  

“No,” he said, “no, that won’t be necessary.”

“You’re going to have to talk to her eventually, boss.  That’s the name on the door, you know?  Masters and Johnson.”

Well, that was assuming that Bill was planning on staying here.  That was assuming that he even wanted to stay here.  He couldn’t name the feeling that was tying him to this office, but it didn’t feel like purpose anymore.  No, it felt a bit more like fear.  That if he went too far from this place he’d worked his whole life to get, that he’d be lost.  The study was an anchor that had trapped him in this life.  

“I appreciate your concern, Betty--”

“No problem, boss.”

“But, I assure you that everything between Ms. Johnson and I is cordially professional now.  I have spoken to her on multiple occasions.”  (Accidentally, when good manners required that he greet her or policy demanded that he review her requests and reports.)

Bill was spared Betty’s response by a polite knock at the conference room door.  Helen was breathless and pink-cheeked, made rosy with nervousness.  

“Sorry I’m late,” she said.  “I’m so glad to meet you, finally.”  

“Yes, it’s good to meet you as well.  Betty’s said nice things about you,” Bill said as he stood to shake Helen’s hand.  Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Betty, still sitting in her seat, grinning at him like he was an idiot.  They’d never had a single conversation about Helen in the years that they’d worked together.  In part because Bill had never asked, and in part because Betty must not have trusted him.  The first he’d even heard of Helen was when Betty asked for help to have a child.  Bill had turned her down on the basis of traditional families.  But that was their secret now, just a polite lie.

“Oh please,” Helen said, “I’m sure she was exaggerating.  Thank you for making time to see us.  We thought we were going to have to pay a man to have sex with me.”  (And that, apparently was the worst fate Helen could imagine.)

“Well,” Bill said, “let’s not have it come to that.  Although you will need a sperm donor if you haven’t already found one.  It can be someone you know or an anonymous donor through a sperm bank.  I have a list of recommendations of reputable businesses that deal in that sort of thing.”

“We’ve got someone in mind,” Betty assured him.

“He’s got a ton of kids,” Helen added as she pulled out a chair to sit in.  “So, we know there won’t be any problems on his end.  So, how do we start?  Are their tests?  I’ve always had very regular periods.  I eat healthy.  I exercise some.  I don’t know what you need to know.  Maybe I should just let you talk.”

Helen looked at her with such adoration.  She smiled at Helen like she’d never loved anyone more fully in all her life.  It was a look he’d never seen on Betty’s face, not once in all the time that he’d known her.  (And even if he had already felt like an ass by denying her the chance at a child once; he felt worse now.)  

“I don’t think he minds listening,” Betty assured Helen.

“Not at all,” Bill said.  “I’d like to hear your expectations and your preferences.  We can talk about the technical things in a minute.”

“Oh.”  Helen set her purse on the chair next to her and shifted in her chair.  She looked at Betty, like she hadn’t expected to be invited to talk at all.  “Well, I’d like it all to be as natural as it can be.  I know obviously, there’s going to be some unnatural things.  Obviously, I don’t want to have sex with a man, but if it’s not necessary I don’t want to have to take a lot of drugs, or injections.  And, if I have to have any procedures or anything like that, I’d prefer to have you do them.  Personally.  Betty told me that you’re the best at what you do, but I know sometimes doctors make decisions and then someone else does the work, and I don’t know that we’ll ever be able to try this again.  It must cost a lot.”

“No,” Bill said softly, “not this isn’t going to cost you a lot.  There will be a fee for acquiring the sperm if you chose to use a sperm bank, but you will not be charged for my time or any testing that can be done here at the office.”

Betty’s eyes were rimmed pink and Helen looked as if she had been slapped.

“That’s fantastic,” Helen gasped.  And then she rushed ahead with, “he’s not at all like you said,” to Betty.  

Betty laughed and leaned forward to drag her wife into a quick kiss.  Her hand was curved around Helen’s face, and Helen was whispering: “we’re going to have a baby.”

Bill cleared his throat and flipped open the folder in front of him.  “Well, before we can determine what sort of testing, if any, we need to perform, there are some questionnaires that you will need to fill out.  There will also be a physical exam that we could do today, or you can schedule for another day.”

Betty dragged the folder across the table and handed Helen a pen.  They were reading over it together, whispering answers into each other’s ears.  Bill was useless to them, left to sit and watch (and wonder, maybe, why he’d never been so happy).

--

The conversation had started with, “Why are you awake?”  He hadn’t even bothered to say hello, and why would he?  It was eight in the morning for him, he was barely awake enough to think up words to say at all.  But at least it was close to an acceptable time to receive a phone call, standing at the counter in his kitchen, contemplating the contents of his cabinets.

Where Bill was, it was well past dark (at least).  So late at night, it must have been early in the morning, and any respectable person would have been sleeping.  But Bill Masters must not have considered himself respectable.  

“Did you know your accent gets harder to understand when you’re tired?”

“I’m not tired,” Hardy objected.  He turned away from the hopeless endeavor of finding food he wanted to eat.  “Why are you awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Bill said.  “If you’d prefer I didn’t call, I could hang up.  It just seemed like making a phone call would be less work than texting you.”

Hardy hummed at that, working out if he wanted to continue demanding why the man couldn’t sleep or encourage him to call whenever the mood struck him.  “Well, you’ve already called.  No sense in hanging up now.”  He was leaning back against the countertop now, hyper aware of the state of his kitchen.  It didn’t matter to the man who couldn’t see it, but the poor state that Hardy had left it in made him feel self-conscious.  “Did you want to talk about why you can’t sleep?”

“No.  I was hoping you’d have something more interesting to talk about than my insomnia.”

“Why do I have to make the conversation?” Hardy asked.  “If you call someone, you should have something to say.”

“We could talk about your medical condition,” Bill offered.

“We could talk about your work conditions,” Hardy retorted.

Bill growled into the phone, like a man that had to sit up in bed because the person on the other end of the phone was being annoying.  You could hear it in the effort of his breath, how he was preparing himself for a proper fight.  You couldn’t express your annoyance while laying down.  You needed to be upright for that sort of thing.  

“Fine,” Hardy said before Bill had a chance to speak, “I don’t have anything to talk about.  Do you celebrate Christmas?”

“No.  Let’s not talk about Christmas,” Bill said.  “What time is it for you?  Shouldn’t you be eating breakfast?”

“I refuse to be lectured about my eating habits by another person.”  (Now that he’d struck up a decent exchange of texts with Miller, he was already being harangued about making sure he had enough to eat.)  “There must be something that we can talk about.”

“Have you purchased anymore shirts since I saw you?  Still wearing the same two identical blue ones?”

Hardy sighed.  “I will hang up.”

Bill was laughing at him, but at least it was a soft sound.  “Fine, how is your case going?  I remember you mentioned that you’re going to have Ellie look it over and see if she could find something you’ve missed.  Did she come and do that?”

“Miller’s had a look.  Probably won’t make any progress on it until the holidays are over.  She’s got kids, you know?  Young kids.  Fred’s barely walking.”

“What kind of gifts do you get for a child that young?  I’ve always been bad at gifts.”

“Why would I get him a gift?” Hardy asked.  He hadn’t even considered that he might be required to give Fred a present.  There had been no talk of exchanging gifts.  He didn’t expect Miller to think of him while she was shopping.  “Should I get him a gift?  Do people do that?  Give gifts to their friend’s children?”

Bill’s silence was a contemplation of how best to respond.  He’d been struck dumb by the question, but he didn’t sound as exasperated as Miller would have when he finally spoke.  “Yes, I believe it’s something nice that you could do.  I don’t know if you have to.  Seems like your partner could use an extra bit of niceness this year.”

“What do you get a child that young?  What do you buy for a boy?  I’ve never had a boy.”  He pushed away from the countertop to find somewhere more comfortable to continue the conversation.  He’d planned to make his way to the couch, but he ended up laying in bed instead.  

Bill was shrugging on his end, “blocks?  Cars?  I remember Libby bought Johnny a good deal of dinosaurs one year.  He was very into them.  But Howie didn’t seem to care for them.”

They sank into a conversation about nothing.  They talked about toys, and stupid things they’d done as boys.  They talked about Christmas songs they hated, and the relative disgustingness of eggnog until Bill was yawning into every word.

“I think you should sleep now,” Hardy said, but he didn’t want to.  He could have talked longer; he could have soaked up the sound of Bill complaining about his (former) Mother in law’s vindictive fruitcakes for so much longer.  

“I should,” Bill agreed, and maybe it was only imagination that made it sound like he was sad to go.  “You should be the one to call next,” he said, like saying: don’t make me put in all the effort.

Hardy was smiling to himself, hand pressed to his quickening heart beating in his chest.  He said, “I will.  Sleep well, Bill.”

“Have a good day, Alec,” was the answer, and the regretful sound of the call disconnecting.

@marvelmisha, @e3105eb, @may-darling, @bigleosis, @it-is-ineffable, @stardust-andwine, @echelongaga, @imnotokaywiththerunning, @heirofsarcasm, @thedoctorsblogger

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Elves

@graham-cheshir gave me this idea, I don’t know if it is what they were looking for, but it’s what I got. Hope you all like it, had to try for a different sort of style ad feeling to see if I could get this one right

They stood huddled together at the base of the soaring edifice. Lines of deep silver metal flowed towards the clouds and then curved down into darkness. The sky above was blanketed in a deep, impenetrable layer of clouds bringing the light to near twilight levels, casting everything into shadow, but somehow, the massive alien ship seemed to glow with a soft silver light.  They waited at the bottom of the ramp unwilling to go up, but unwilling to go away.

Movement, just at the head of the ramp, and they looked up to see two absolutely towering figures looking down at them. Otherwise they were very still, standing like trees watchful glittering eyes staring down from the darkness. Even despite their glittering armor, they nearly blended into the background of the ship.

So, they were waiting, but no one was willing to move clustered together as they were.

They wouldn’t have known what was coming next if they hadn’t been looking. The footsteps were so quiet.

They seemed to glide from the interior of the ship on a wave of silence, their movements as lithe as dancers every foot placed perfectly. Their muscles waved and rolled in perfect lines of synchronization. Where those at the base of the ramp were short and stocky, these creatures were tall and willowy, with long legs, long arms and delicate hands alive with precise movement, and they were absolutely breathtakingly beautiful. Their faces angular, their eyes deep and haunting, one a deep amber, the other a stunning green.

There were two of them now, one a flawless ebony black like the most precious of stones, and the other an ethereal white like a polished crystal so clear it was almost translucent. They could see the delicate veins of blue running through its skin like veins run through marble. The wind picked up at that moment tugging at their statuesque bodies, rippling through hair like spun gold. The clothes they were rippled with the wind, perfectly tailored to their strange statuesque bodies.

Behind them other creatures came, most of them ugly, none with the superior grace and power of these. They shrunk closer together in fear. This was more than they could understand, than what they could take, not months before they had assumed they were the only ones alone in a deep blackness, that it was just their planet encircling their star, but come to learn there were eleven planets in their system, and billions of galaxies outside that, and hundreds and billions of other lifeforms. Some, watching from the distance and willing to save them from their own planets destruction, but these…. These creatures were the ones, just as perfect, as otherworldly as they had been described.

So perfect, so beautiful that it brought tears to their eyes collectively. None of them could help but weep throwing themselves to the ground at the feet of their saviors. No one spoke, finally being able to look up, they found the creatures staring at them, their faces masks of unreadable, unemotional stiffness. “You need not do such things, please, rise.” The voice that spoke was chilling, hauntingly beautiful like a melody carried through the forest dazzling like a thousand winking stars. They could have danced to it, the rising and falling of his voice soaring high rolling deep with only its simple rhythm. They quickly scrambled to their feet. The creatures waited as they stood awkwardly at the base of the ramp, until a hand reached out beckoning them with a flowing sweeping motion.

“Come.”

They did as they were told scrambling up the ramp, feeling so jerky and awkward as they moved slipping on the ramp, nearly falling sometimes as they reached the top. They looked up caught in the gaze of a single green eye. They could see better now, see the slight hitch in the creature’s movement, see the blue metal on his feet, see the pain of ancient injuries.

What could have been so horrible, so terrible as to take grace from such a creature? It was so sad, so horrible. This time they wept for his pain, for the ruining of a perfect body. The only response of the creature was to raise an eyebrow over his single working eye. “Why do you weep?” He wondered melodic voice washing over them like a wave.

They could hardly speak, couldn’t articulate how they felt.

One of the other creatures stepped forward, and the ancient one leaned in to hear them never breaking eye contact from them as he did. “We have yet to perfect the translation patterns so be In the knowledge that your words come off differently to them.” The ancient slowly swayed back into position like a tree bending and waving in high wind.

“No matter…. Come.” His order was obeyed instantly, and they followed at his heels racked with pain and awe at his movement, the grace despite injury, the flow of near perfect imperfection. As they went, they could sense eyes all around them, but could not see, shapes flitted through the darkness, sometimes a face would coalesce from the shadows and then pull away just as quickly.

The further they went the less sure they became. The interior of the ship was a maze of shadow, like the deepness of a forest. Lights glittered form the darkness, pinpricks of red and green winking from the cold silver set to illuminate arcane symbols etched upon the metal in the flowing, strange script of the ancients. Pools of blueish light tickled from open doorways and out into the hall. Beautiful, echoing, ghostly voices rolled through the ship carried on a distant draft of air unseen from where they walked.  Their sound of distant laughter was the sound of vibrating crystals, it flowed off the walls and then dispersed like fog.

The creatures ahead moved silently flaked by the other strange star dwellers, but they hardly paid attention as they walked through an open door and into a massive room dominated by a high table. Light filtered in from above a strange bluish color trickling off the skin of the ancients like liquid diamond. They were offered a seat and awkwardly sat like children atop the tall chairs at least three times too large for them.

At the head of the table the ancient folded his hands together expression strange, distant, and cold as he watched them, “Before we commence, I must apologize for my lapse, I am Commander Vir of the UNSC representative of the Heavenly Conclave.” His voice was deep, rolling, it seemed to fill the room. They felt small before him, “We have come to speak peace with your people as we wish for you to join the Heavenly Conclave as allies in peace. If you do wish to ally with us there are decrees you must follow…”

They didn’t even bother waiting for him to tell them the rules before agreeing whole heartedly. He didn’t show much of a reaction as they could sense, accept for a slight expression of perplexity, but they could have been wrong the ancient was so hard to read, but why wouldn’t they be willing to ally with them. It would have been stupid not to agree, and they were so happy. They could learn more about travel, more about these strange beings that had saved them.

They were happy to agree to anything, and their intermittent instruction by the ancient was dotted with questions about his race, and his species. He answered hesitantly as if unsure what to tell them. In secrecy he seemed to hide to keep his race an enigma to them. They asked how long his species could live, and he answered, they were stunned by the age, so ancient so knowledgeable with lifespans three times that of their own, if not more.

Not only were they beautiful, but they were warriors, like a race of heavenly soldiers built to fight. They could run forever, could fight past the greatest injury, defeat entire armies with their strange mystic weaponry. They were incredibly strong and fast, there was no way the Tvek could match them, in war against them they would fall like trees in a wildfire. And so too were they wise beyond what should have been acceptable. They spoke in languages more ancient than time itself, and their passed down intelligence and knowledge of history surpassed what the Tvek had ever known. When they spoke to the rest of the strange beasts, they spoke of pacts and agreements made may years in the past, barely longer than living memory for the Tvek.

They had lived so long, seen so much.

They couldn’t help themselves, they wanted to be closer to the strange creatures, and with his grace and acceptance, he allowed them to come forward. They swarmed at his feet touching his hands and his clothing. He was so warm, which made sense with the inner light he seemed to give off, the glow about him. They touched the metal that had replaced his limbs, and were sad again for his loss. The Tvek were a race driven completely by their emotions, they could not control them. It made them wonder if these other creatures even had emotions at all, so cold and distant were they, but not uncaring or unkind.

“You must return, now, and I shall carry your message to the conclave.”

And they went watching from the ground as the ship fell upwards into the sky, a paragon of power and speed.

***

“You should probably go now, and I will let the assembly know your decision.”

Commander Vir stood next to Sunny, watching the Tvek representatives toddle their way from the room. They were so small, humanism in form like the way a goblin or a gnome was, but surprisingly childish.  He glanced over at sunny who looked down at him with one brow raised, “Wow, they sure have a thing for you.”

He snorted, “Yeah, kind of weird wasn’t it. You’d think I was an angel or something.”

“Angel?”

He shrugged, “Ancient religious symbol. Human in form but better, filled with holy light, flying with wings, sometimes soldiers for god, ancient, wise, unknowable. Far superior than man etc. etc.”

She gave him a critical once over barked a laugh and then walked off. He stood there stunned for a moment then burst into a jog after her, “He, hold on, what’s so funny.”

More laughter.

“You’re just jealous that they can see me for what I really am.”

“And what might that be?” She wondered as he caught up.

“I don’t know ancient celestial being of pure power and grace.”

“Hmm.” she tugged at the translation device on her head, “I’m sorry, Commander, I didn’t catch that, I think something is wrong with my translator.”

“What, why do you say that?”

“Because I swear I heard you say ancient celestial being of power and grace when you must have meant, a 25 year old massive dork of average intelligence who routinely runs into door-frames.”

“No, no I don’t think so, clearly the first one.”

And then they left the room together the strange ancient being, and his six limbed beast.

[deliasbabygirl-blog]

Always Yours

Summary: The reader has moved back to her hometown upon a rather heart-wrenching breakup, but when someone from her past life returns, she realizes it was all a foolish, disheartening mistake. 

Pairing: Anne Lister x Reader

Word Count: 1,395

A/N: I watched all three available episodes of Gentleman Jack last night, and I am so very much in love with Miss Anne Lister. This tiny prompt has been on my mind since I wandered into sleep, so I had to write it. No one asked for this. But I hope it is still very much enjoyed. ***edit: gif is not mine. Credit belongs to @dinglecharity

Tracing delicate fingers over the starch beige paper, the memorized, ink wording thick beneath your touch, you breathed steadily, wondering when another would arrive from quite so far away. From behind the regal wooden desk, you remained hidden within your office, thinking fondly of a lifetime ago, promises and proposals neglected beneath tangled sheets and slammed doors. Fondness soon succumb to longing, to repressed anger weighted within your chest, and perhaps, you thought, you should, for the first time, respond to the letter.

Though the intricate jar of ink awaited you, the blank sheets of paper beside your resting arm, your glance wandered to the several plants decorating the edge of your desk. Small, vividly green leaves basking in the intrusive sunlight blinding from the expansive office window, welcomed beneath the opened blinds, strung tightly atop the curtains. Four years, you recalled, that overgrown, greedy arrangement remained, the plant given to you before the final spoken word.

“Miss Y/L/N,” your young servant’s quivering voice spoke from the other side of the thick door, the gentle knock of his fingers hardly heard above the mansion’s creaks and groans. “There is a woman for you.” The broken English of the teenage gentleman reminded you of his efforts in speaking to you in your own native tongue, though you could speak his fluently. Chuckling, despite the frustration of unknowing who awaited you, you stood from your chair, crossing the room with steady strides.

“Merci, Johnathan,” you offered him a smile as you opened the door to see him anxiously awaiting you. Following him toward the front corridor of the mansion, you thought to explain to him the precision of his duties, from collecting the name of a guest, to walking them to your sitting room to await you, but for this moment, it was enough that he walked you to the foyer.

Turning the corner of the long, dark corridor, the anchor unknowingly attached to the animal within your chest weighted heavily, drowning it painfully within your stomach as you stared at the tall, slender woman before you. “Anne,” you gasped, mind trickling to the previous moments your fingers traced her words. “I-I, Miss Lister, what are you doing here? I thought you were in…”

“I heard you moved back,” she spoke gently, evidently daring a cautious step toward you, and you allowed your eyes admire from her fitted jacket to the end of the cane within her fingers, tapping against the hardwood beneath you. The tick of her tongue captured your attention once more, placing it on her lips, the way they carefully formed each of her words. “I never thought you would come back after seeing Paris, Miss Y/L/N.”

The mention of the city crafted a heavy, excruciating knot within your though, stilling your response as you thought of the reason you journeyed there many months previous, the reason now awkwardly standing a few feet before you, eyes gesturing for you to dismiss your servant from the moment. Mumbling the dismissal in breathy French, you swiftly turned toward the sitting room, needing to escape the thickening air trapped in the entrance. Booted footfalls followed.

The older woman closed the door as you crossed the room, lightheadedness weakening your knees, threatening their buckle, but you remained standing afront the burning fireplace. “So, have you come back as well, Anne, or is your aunt sick? How long will you be staying this time?” Attempting to stare anywhere other than the brunette’s concerned eyes, you found your breathing quickening, recalling the very last time you and the other woman were in this very room. Shaking the vivid thoughts from your cluttered mind, you sighed, and she allowed herself perch on the arm of the sofa, facing you.

“Well, that solely depends on your answer to my question,” the older woman lightly chuckled, tucking her hat beneath her arm, and you glanced to her curiously, seeing anguish within her dark eyes, recognizing the very agonizing pain you saw before she had slammed that door in Paris. “Why have you come back?”

This was Anne Lister, you thought to yourself, a woman always upon her own selfish reasoning, always demanding responses before she offered her own. “Why have I come back, Anne? You cannot possibly be serious,” you scoffed, smoothing a hand along the abdomen of your dress. “I had only traveled to Paris to be with you,” your voice lowered to a mere whisper, though you knew there were no disapproving ears listening. “And you left me there. I had no reason to stay in that haunting city any further, and I had my estate waiting for me here.”

Thoroughly enraged with the moment, disbelieving she would inquire such an answer, you began your storm from one side of the expansive room to the other, but soft, though callous, fingers caught your wrist. The touch hatched cocoons within you, wings fluttering along your stomach, the longing of her flushing through you to a warmth upon your cheeks. Looking to her, knowing she awaited your gaze before she would speak, you noticed the small swells of tears flooding her lower lashes.

“Dear, Y/N,” she seemed to choke out, her hold of your wrist tightening slightly as if you would continue running from her. “I never left you. I know I acted foolishly with anger, allowing the door to shut harshly behind me, but I was to return,” she sighed deeply, pulling you toward her, and you could feel the sudden chill of your own tears trickling down your cheeks. “I did return, and you were no longer there.”

Something overcame you, something raw and urgent, your hands cupping her cheeks as she stood before you. “Oh, Anne,” you sighed with a quiet chuckle, looking upward into the eyes you once described as the foundation for the remainder of your time. “I feel so childish, so stupid. I had never...,” you nuzzled your cheek into her palm, her thumb gently wiping the tears beneath your eye. “I had never experienced a fight with a lover without them leaving without return. I had thought you were no longer mine.”

“I was always yours,” she whispered, resting her forehead against yours. “I have always been yours, Y/N. We spoke of our companionship, don’t you recall?” Nodding, staring at the woman’s soft pink lips, inches from your own, you thought to the proposal, the proposal without the ending of marriage and children, but rather spending the rest of your lifetime with this woman looking at you as though you placed each star in the night sky.

Aware of the months foolishly misunderstood and neglected, you closed the distance between the older woman and yourself, touching your lips gently to hers, the softness no longer a fond memory. The quietest of moans vibrated within your throat, feeling the woman’s arms slowly embrace you, wrapping around your waist. “Oh, Anne, I’ve missed you,” you muttered into another kiss, urgency parting your mouth, deepening the kiss, your hold on her tightening. “Upstairs. Now. Stay.”

Travelling hands retreated from their paths upon bodies, kisses ending hastily, booted footfalls scurrying up the elegant staircase toward the second floor of the mansion. “Anne,” you sighed, reaching for her the moment your toes crossed the threshold, and she was there, her arms outstretched toward you, taking you within her embrace once more, the door shutting behind her quietly. “I’m here, Y/N,” she reminded before colliding her lips with yours once more.

The backs of your clothed knees found the edge of the regal bed, the older woman carefully laying you upon the neatly made-up bedding, hovering above you as her kisses became gentle nips along your jawline. Her fingers tickled along your calf, travelling upward along your leg clad with a thin stocking, and you released subtle, breathy moans into the empty room. “Does this mean you’re staying?”

The kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck stilled, dark, lustful eyes finding yours immediately. “Does this mean you want me to?” Fingers continued upward your thigh despite her holding stare upon you, pushing your cotton briefs to the side in order for her to caress a steady finger along your soaked folds. A smirk toyed of her blush lips, and you nodded, stroking her cheek gently, relishing in the feeling of her quickened nuzzle into your palm. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

[setaripendragon]

Never Simple - Chapter 1

Okay! This is... this one is kind of ridiculous. So, I watched Venom a couple of weeks ago, figuring, you know, I was already neck-deep in the soul-bond tentacle-porn on Ao3, I ought to at least see the source material, even if I expected to find it kind of cringey. (Given that everyone also raved about Ragnarok, and I actually couldn’t watch it because of the cringe, I had reason to worry, but) I absolutely loved it. There was only one moment of genuine cringe, right at the beginning, and from there on, it was, as the internet had assured me, a beautiful, ridiculous rom-com XD Why am I talking about Venom on a story tagged with FMA? Because I’ve spent the last two weeks crossing Venom over with everything. Skyfall, Torchwood, Elementary, Teen Wolf, and, thanks to @furisca, FullMetal Alchemist. So yeah, I have plans for this story (so many fix-it style plans), but I have no idea if I’m going to manage to write them all, where this story is actually going, or how I’m going to end it, but... have the first insane 5K I wrote in an inspired delirium anyway. (Warnings: Character death, severe illness and seizures, sort of body horror? I tried not to make it too gory, but I also had some fun trying to evoke that skin-crawly horror feel, so, yeah.)

Teacher had called it making a deal with the devil, but Ed didn’t believe in any sort of god or devil or anything like that. Alchemy was science, and it was simple. Knowledge was power. The more you knew, the more you could do. If you knew how the pieces fit together, you could twist them and shape them into anything you liked. That was how alchemy worked.

And, sure, the human body was complicated – massively, incredibly, bewilderingly complicated – but it wasn’t unknowable. The knowledge was there, in the very fact that those molecules, those atoms had come together in that way, in that form. The entire equation was there, written into their very existence. Which meant that with enough knowledge, they could fix their mum.

The doctors didn’t know what was wrong. Mum had been sick for years, and no one could tell her what was wrong. She’d tried to hide it at first, but that hadn’t lasted. They might have been young, but they weren’t stupid. They were actually pretty fucking smart, if Ed did say so himself.

It had taken them years of study, of plumbing the depths of alchemy and human biology, but Ed was pretty sure they had their answer at last. Ed had found it in a footnote in one of their deadbeat dad’s journals. In the one explaining the very basics of alchemy. Jotted in the margin of the basic explanation that Ed could recite by heart; Alchemy is the science of understanding the structure of matter, breaking it down, then reconstructing it as something else.

Always, always, they’d been taught, understanding had to come first.

The note in dad’s journal said otherwise.

Deconstruction came first. Understanding only came from taking a thing and pulling it apart to see how it worked.

It was dangerous, of course. Ed understood that. Physically, you could pull a thing apart, and the only negative consequence would be not being able to put it back together again. Pulling a thing apart with alchemy? If you couldn’t understand it quickly enough, thoroughly enough, the backlash would be devastating. They certainly weren’t going to try in on Mum without testing it first.

At least, that was the plan, until Ed sent Al to get them a few drops of Mum’s blood while he double checked their array, and before a minute had gone by, Al screamed; “BROTHER!” Ed dropped the book he was holding, uncaring as to its fate as he rushed upstairs, a horrible sort of anticipatory dread coiling slow and sickening inside him.

Sure enough, when he joined Al in their mum’s room, it wasn’t hard to see why Al had screamed. Mum was- Ed couldn’t think the word, but she was perfectly still, sprawled limply with her eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling, glassy and empty, one arm flung out like she’d been trying to reach for something on the night-stand, and just… switched off half way through the motion.

Ed’s head filled with a litany of denial, and he just stood there, dumbfounded with horror and the terrible creeping certainty that they were too late. Beside him, Al let out a wretched sob, almost a wail, and Ed snapped back into the present. “No.” He said, but this time, it was full of determination and ferocity. “We can still do this.” He announced, startling Al. “Get some chalk, we’re going to have to redraw the array up here.” Ed didn’t think he could handle trying to carry Mum down to the basement like this.

“B-Brother?” Al stammered.

“Chalk!” Ed repeated, and finally saw understanding, hope, and then determination fill his brother’s eyes, too. With a nod, Al bolted out of the room. Ed took the moments he was gone to go and… and check. He tentatively wrapped his hand around Mum’s wrist and pressed his fingers to her pulse. She was still warm, but there was no movement under his fingertips, no pulse.

That knowledge nearly broke him, would have broken him if it hadn’t been for the array all planned out and plotted in the back of his mind. They could do this. They had to. Al returned, breathless and brandishing a whole box of chalks, and they set to work. It took them a while, because the array was so stupidly complicated, and every minute that slipped by was another minute that dragged their mother further and further away from them.

They had to push the bed out of the way to finish it, and then, once it was done, they were forced to face the fact that they needed to move their mother into the center of the array. After sharing a dismayed look with Al, Ed set his jaw, and set to it, stubbornly ignoring the horrible fact of how lifeless the body in his arms was. It wouldn’t be that way for long.

And then it was ready.

“This is going to work, Al.” Ed asserted. Al nodded, eyes burning just as fiercely as Ed’s, and grabbed Ed’s hand, gripping tightly, desperately. Ed squeezed back reassuringly, then let go so he could kneel beside their array. Al followed his lead and, in unison, they reached out and pressed their hands to the edge of the circle, activating their array. Actinic light spilled out as energy crackled through the lines they’d etched painstakingly across the floor of the basement, the force of it whipping their hair about their heads and tugging at their clothes.

The world came apart at the seems.

“Foolish little alchemist.”

Ed jumped, looking around, but there was nothing. Just an endless expanse of pristine white nothingness, stretching out into infinity. He turned around again, and jumped again, because he could have sworn there was nothing there, before, but now? Now he found himself looking up at a huge stone door, etched with a strangely branching tree. “Who- who’s there? Where are you? Where am I?!” Ed blurted out, peering around the sides of the great stone door, but there was only more nothingness beyond it.

“I’m so glad you asked!” The voice responded, but it didn’t sound glad. It sounded bitter. It sounded like Ed did, when he was forced to talk about dad. “I am nothing, and everything. The universe, and the void. I am, and so you are. I am Truth.” Ed spun around again, as the voice seemed to coalesce behind him, and he saw-

He stumbled backwards until his back hit the stone door, incomprehension sending him recoiling. The thing in front of him looked almost human. Two arms, two legs, a head, all in the right places, but wrong. There was no definition, no features, no solidity, just a writhing, amorphous mass of white-on-white that was only barely managing a paltry attempt at a human form. It grinned at him, showing off teeth that would have looked more at home on a piranha than a human, and waved a not-hand at the nothingness around them. “And this, little alchemist, is me.”

A deep, groaning crack reverberated out from behind Ed, and terror seized him. Every fibre of his being was telling him to run, to run and not look back for a second, but he couldn’t help it, he had to know what was there, so he turned, slowly, forcing himself to move one inch at a time, until he could see, out of the corner of his eye, what was behind the door.

Ed screamed.

He tried to scramble backwards, all the while keep his eyes on the incomprehensible writhing mass of strangely geometric viscera teeming and seething within the stone archway. Before he had gone more than two steps, though, his back hit something solid, with just a hint of give to it. Like flesh, but not, too slick, too fluid. He froze. Even the air in his lungs froze.

Two not-hands came up beside his head. He could see them moving just on the edges of his vision, curling round, closing in, and panic stole all rational thought from his mind. “I thought this was what you wanted, you arrogant little shit.” The not human thing behind him crooned, as those hands pressed over his face.

This time, it was Ed that came apart at the seams.

The worst part? The worst part was that he could feel it. He could taste it. Every molecule that broke away from the whole, every atom that was wrenched out of alignment. He knew by taste-feel-weight-texture-vibration what they were and what they did and how they fit. Right down to the plasma in his blood and the bacteria in his intestines, the bile in his liver and the mucous in his lungs. The electricity in his brain and all the little chemicals that strung the whole lot together into a functioning whole. He could feel membranes he hadn’t even known were there, knew the entire topographical structure of his lungs, felt every synapse in his brain as it was taken apart and shown to him. As he was vivisected all the way down to his atoms, until he was nothing more than biological mush. Just a puddle of writhing ooze on a blank white canvas.

And then he was whole again. Whole and gasping for breath as every nerve in his body tingled with visceral euphoria at being together and coherent again. “W-w-wha…” He tried to speak, to ask, to understand, but he couldn’t stop shaking long enough to get the words out.

“Equivalent exchange, little alchemist.” The voice said right into Ed’s ear from where it was standing directly behind him, breathing on his neck. All the hair on his body stood up on end, and he lurched away and around, wanting that thing and it’s teeth where he could see them-

It looked like Alphonse.

Al’s golden hair and Al’s hazel eyes and Al’s button nose and a mouth full of razors in a jagged crescent, splitting his face in two. “You opened the gate. You came here, in your arrogance, to take something from me, and you thought there wouldn’t be consequences?” It demanded, furious and vicious and smug.

“NO!” Ed screamed. He lunged forwards, grabbing the thing that was wearing his brother by the shoulders and shaking it. “GIVE HIM BACK! ALPHONSE!”

The world slipped away and slid back into place, a moment of vertigo and the nothingness was filled in. Ed wasn’t standing, he was half-lying, half-kneeling over Alphonse’s limp form sprawled across their basement floor. He looked like he was sleeping, no sign of those awful teeth or the horror sealed behind a huge stone door except for the way Ed could still half remember what his own brain tasted like.

“A-Al?” Ed breathed, unable to make his voice any louder with the horrible, terrible fear surging through him. Al’s shoulders shifted beneath his hands, moving with the suddenly rapid rise and fall of his chest. “Al?!” Ed called, stronger, more urgent, but the only response he got was not from Al.

There was a gurgling gasp from the center of the array. Ed’s head snapped up, breath caught somewhere in his throat, to stare at Mum. She was moving. She shuddered and arched until her back cleared the floor. “Mum?!” Ed called, not quite willing to let go of Al just yet, but still desperately wanting confirmation that all that horror had been worth it.

Instead, what he got was discordant, reverberating laughter spilling out of his mother’s mouth. Jagged fangs bloomed behind her open lips, and when her eyes opened, they were opalescent white from lid to lid, and getting larger. They spilled out over the edges of her eyelids, while crystalline blue oozed out of her pores, crawling over her skin.

“No…!” Ed breathed, hope turning sour in a heartbeat.

The thing that wasn’t really his mother zeroed in on him, head twisting too far to be natural, and whole body contorting in ways that made Ed want to vomit. “Yes!” She – it – crooned, and the worst part was Ed thought he could almost hear his mother’s voice under the distortion. The monster laughed again, and lunged. Ed didn’t even see it coming, just registered that it was starting to move, and then the next thing he knew, he was pinned to the floor with a monster that used to be his mother looming over him, maw gaping wide and getting closer. “Mum?” Ed begged, even though he had no idea if his mum was even still alive – alive again – in there. “Mum, p-please don’t-!”

The monster paused, jerked forwards – making Ed flinch – only to suddenly fling itself backwards, back into the array. “No.” That was Mum’s voice, ragged and hoarse, but entirely and only Mum’s voice. Ed sobbed before he could stop himself. “You won’t have my boys-! Will. Hungry-! Over my dead body!”

Ed flinched at the words, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as the way Mum screamed next, thrashing and convulsing in jerky, jittering motions. There was a crack, followed by another, and then several more in quick succession as Mum’s limbs twisted themselves into unnatural shapes, bones splintering and tearing skin, spilling blood. One last, violent flail was cut short when her head hit the ground with a terrible crunch, and she – it – went still, the blue sinking away back under the skin as the red spilled out, leaving Mum looking like a contortionist’s nightmare, and entirely lifeless once again.

Ed choked on a sob, but his grief was put on hold when Al let out a pained, confused groan. He couldn’t stand – his legs were shaking too much to support his weight, so he half-crawled, half-shuffled back over to his brother’s side, and patted his cheek. Al’s face screwed up, even as his mouth opened on panting breaths. A mouth full of normal, boring, perfectly human teeth.

He cast half a glance over his shoulder towards the… thing in the middle of the array, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to look at it head on before a shudder overtook him and he looked away. Al didn’t need those nightmares as well, he decided, and carefully pulled his brother up and around so his back was towards the middle of the room and they were facing the door.

Al lurched, and for a moment Ed was afraid he was going to fall, but all he did was lean over and throw up weakly onto the floor, one hand slapping down to support himself on an arm that shook violently. “Shit, Al-” Ed choked out, throwing an arm around Al’s shoulders just in time to keep him from collapsing face-first into the pool of his own vomit. Al made an unhappy noise, and dropped his head onto Ed’s shoulder. Ed flinched, because the bare skin of Al’s cheek was burning to the touch, and he could feel that even through his t-shirt. “Oh, fuck-” Ed didn’t need the echoes of everything Truth had shown him to know that that? Wasn’t a good sign.

“B-broth…” Al mumbled weakly, sounding just as tired and pained as Mum did- used to- That was not a comparison Ed wanted to make right now, so he shut that thought down hard. He also tried not to think about how what he desperately wanted to do right now was scream for his mum and have her come soothe them and fix everything, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t because she was dead, and- He shook the thoughts off with a hiccuped back sob, and focused on getting Al out of the room before he came to enough to notice-

Al managed to coordinate his feet enough to be moderately helpful in walking to their bedroom, where Ed tucked him into bed, and Al promptly passed out. Which was good, because Ed knew he couldn’t hold it together much longer. He half stumbled down the stairs and called the only other person he could think of to turn to for help.

“Rockbell Automail.”

“G-granny? Al’s sick.” Ed said, and then choked. It was hard to keep the desperate, panicked sobs in now that he’d said it out loud.

“Edward?” Granny asked sharply.

Ed sobbed once, and then forced it back down, because he needed to be strong, for fuck’s sake. Needed to keep his shit together long enough to get Al the help he needed. “Al’s sick.” He said again, because he couldn’t manage more than that. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I’ll be right there.” Granny promised, and then hung up.

Ed put the phone down with a clatter, and went to check on Al again, only to find him peering blearily at Ed from under the arm he’d flung over his face. “Al?” Ed breathed, relief tinged with desperation. “Al, are you okay?”

“C’n I… food?” He asked plaintively, hiding his eyes in the crook of his elbow again. “M’hungry.”

“Yeah! Yeah, sure.” Ed agreed. Honestly, he would have agreed to just about anything Al asked for, right now. He hurried down to the kitchen and frantically searched for something healthy that wouldn’t need a lot of preparation time. He settled on grabbing an apple for now, and filling a jug with water, and brought them up to Al. “Got you some water as well.” He explained, unnecessarily, as he put them on the bedside table. He poured a glass of water, and helped Al drink it, because his hands were shaking too badly to hold it steady by himself.

Truthfully, Ed’s hands weren’t doing much better, but between them, they managed to get more of the water into Al than on him. Then Ed offered him the apple. Al just about snatched it and sank his teeth into it with alarming voracity. He didn’t stop until the whole thing was gone, core and all. “Al…?” Ed asked tentatively, holding himself very still, uncomfortable visions of a different set of teeth swimming hazily in his mind.

“Brother?” Al echoed, a touch of a tremor in his voice.

Shit. Ed needed to pull himself together, before his freak out made Al freak out. He tried for a smile, and knew it must have fell miles short when Al’s face crumpled. “I guess you’d like another one, huh?” He asked, pulling bravado over the top of his uncertainty.

Al licked his lips. “Somethin’…” He began hopefully. “Some… some of the… th’meat stew?”

“Sure.” Ed agreed. Reheating the stew didn’t take very long, and soon he was back at Al’s side, helping him sit up so he could eat. He got half way through it before his eyes widened and he shoved the bowl towards Ed, turning where he sat so that when he threw up, it ended up on the floor instead of in his lap. “Shit.” Ed said, because what the hell else could he say?

Al looked up, distress writ large across his face, his eyes pleading as they found Ed. “What’s- what’s wrong with m-me?” He asked desperately.

“I don’t know.” Ed admitted, even though he didn’t want to. He now knew exactly how fragile the human body was, what a delicate balance it hung in. There were just too many ways for it to go wrong, and it wasn’t as if the remnants of his knowledge of his own internal workings meant he had any hope of figuring out what was wrong with Al’s.

“What happened?” Al asked next, which wasn’t a very reassuring question.

“I don’t know.” Ed said again, a little more desperately.

Al looked at him with wide, tentative eyes. “Did- Did we- Is Mum…?” He stammered, not quite daring to hope.

It broke Ed’s heart, and his face crumpled up before he could stop it, his whole body shaking with suppressed sobs. It was awful, to watch that barely-there hope drain out of Al’s face to be replaced by the agony of grief. He started to cry, weak but unstoppable, and that just set Ed off, too, years of anxious grief pouring out of them all at once.

Ed pulled himself together first, when he heard Granny open the door and come stomping up the stairs. Al didn’t bother. Granny stopped in the doorway to take them in, and Ed looked over at her with a mixture of desperation and defiance. Granny just clicked her tongue at him. “Go get a mop, pipsqueak.” She  ordered, stepping inside and depositing her doctor’s bag on the end of Al’s bed.

Ed hopped up, glad for something to do. “He- he threw up twice.” He said, just before he left. “And he’s got a fever.”

“It’s probably just a bad stomach bug.” Granny assured him.

It could be that, or an infection, or the flu, or any number of his organs could be fucking up, like his appendix or his kidney or his pancreas. Maybe he hit his head and Ed didn’t notice and now he’s bleeding in his brain. Ed stared at her for a long moment, knowing that she could see just how not reassured he was by his expression, before he went to go get the mop.

He cleaned up their room, but even though he knew he ought to, he just couldn’t bring himself to go clean up Mum’s room, too. The memory of what she’d looked like after that- that thing was done with her flashed through his mind and he shuddered on a belated wave of horror, curling his arms around himself and focusing, desperately, on Granny fussing over Al. She was frowning, though, which only made Ed feel worse. “Granny?” He asked, wanting some answers, instead of this nameless, shapeless terror.

Granny glanced at him, then pursed her lips. “I think it’d be best if you boys came to stay at the clinic for a little while, so I can keep an eye on Al. It looks like an infection, which means antibiotics should clear it up, but just to be on the safe side.”

“Okay.” Ed agreed, even though he didn’t like the way Granny said it. He did actually kind of like the idea of not being in this house anymore, with the prickling awareness of what had happened in the other room constantly looming over his head. So he went to bundle Al out of bed and coax him into walking down to Winry’s house, while Granny bustled about getting a few clothes and their over-night stuff together for them.

“Ed…?” Granny called from upstairs once Ed had gotten Al to the front door. She sounded perturbed, but like she was trying to hide it so as not to upset him.

“Yeah?” Ed called back.

“Where’s your mother?”

Ed flinched, memory replaying, and no, no stop it. “In-” He choked, swallowed down the sob. “In her room.”

“No. She’s not.” Granny informed him, tone going sharp.

Ed jolted, looked to Al. Al looked back, frightened and bewildered, but he nodded hesitantly, and let go of the grip he had on Ed’s arm so that Ed could bolt back up the stairs. Granny moved out of his way, and he shoved into Mum’s room even though he really, really didn’t want to. The array was still there, half obscured by a few puddles of half-congealed- something. Not blood. It didn’t smell clean enough to be blood. Just… dead tissue. decomposing biological matter.

The memory of what Truth had done to him came back to him so vividly, so viscerally, that for a moment, Ed was half convinced he was going to simply collapse into his component parts and ooze away through the floorboards. “I-” He choked, unable to shape words through the guilt strangling his insides. “I th-think she dis-dissolved.”

“Dissolved?”

“She was- She wasn’t- We were just trying to- to bring her back, to fix it, but-” Ed shook his head, not wanting to go anywhere near the memory of what had happened.

Granny sighed, long and slow, heavy with her own grief. “Alright, back downstairs with you. Come on. I’ll come back to clean this all up later.” She continued to ramble a stream of reassuring nonsense at him as she chivvied him back downstairs and out of the house. Ed stuck close to Al’s side the whole way, but now that Al was moving, he seemed to be a little better.

Right up until they were standing on the Rockbell’s front porch, and Al just crumpled. Ed didn’t manage to grab him in time, but fell to his knees beside his brother as Al convulsed where he was lying, twitching and spasming like- like- Ed reached out to grab hold of Al in a desperate, useless attempt to try and help, but Granny barked “Don’t!” at him, and he recoiled.

“Why not? He’s-”

“He’s having a seizure, don’t try to hold him still.” Granny informed him briskly. She leaned over and tucked her balled up apron under Al’s head, and then, just… waited.

“There has to be something-!” Ed choked out. Granny just shook her head, leaving Ed to stew in terrified helplessness until Al stopped convulsing and went limp.

“Winry!” Granny called. “Come on, let’s get him inside.” She instructed, and Ed leapt to help pick Al up. Winry appeared in the doorway and gasped, but then her expression set and she moved to help without a single moment of hesitation or distress. Ed was absurdly grateful, because he didn’t think he could handle her upset on top of his own.

They carried Al into the patient room on the ground floor, and then Ed parked himself by his brother’s bedside and refused to be moved. Granny tried to convince him to take one of the guest beds that were semi-permanently reserved for him and Al anyway, but Ed just glared at her, mulish and silent, until she threw her hands in the air and stalked off to get some antibiotics for Al.

Sitting vigil by Al’s bedside was awful, but Ed couldn’t bring himself to move. It was quiet, especially when Winry gave up keeping him company and went to bed, which gave Ed’s brain plenty of space to spin over everything that had happened, everything that had gone wrong in such a short space of time. He thought he might have slept at some point, folded over with his head on his arms on the side of Al’s bed, because that was the only explanation for why he jolted awake in a panic some time later.

The night blurred into the next day. Al woke up enough to eat, which was good, because he was clearly starving, going by how much he ate, but he didn’t seem to be fully aware of where he was or what was going on, and then he went right back to sleep. His fever went up even higher, and Granny made noises about maybe trying a different – stronger – antibiotic.

Maybe if Ed had slept better, he would have thought better of it, but in his wound up state of sleep-deprived anxiety, he threw caution to the winds. He knew, at least in theory, what was supposed to be in the human body, and what wasn’t. It shouldn’t be too hard to draw out an array that would kill the infection without doing Al any real harm.

He snuck out of the patient room and found a spare bit of chalk he or Al must have left lying around the last time they were here, and snuck back into Al’s room. He hovered for a moment by the bed, eyeing the available space, and then turned to crouch down. Before he could, though, a hand shot out and caught his wrist in a bruising grip. Ed yelped and turned to stare at Al, who was glaring at him in uncharacteristic anger.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson the first time?!” The thing that was wearing Al’s face demanded.

Ed choked, wrenching his arm out of it’s grip. Or trying to, because no matter how he wrenched or twisted, he couldn’t get free. “So it is you!” Ed snarled, glaring right back. “Leave him alone! Let him go!” He demanded, furious and despairing.

“We cannot.”

Ed felt as if his chest was caving in under the weight of that simple statement. He sobbed once, twice, and bowed his head over where Al’s – not Al’s – hand was still wrapped around his arm. “Why?” He asked wretchedly. “Why- We did it together, we- it was my idea, so why are you punishing him but not me? Why didn’t you take me instead? You should have taken me instead!” He wailed, begged.

Truth yanked him down, so brutal and sudden that Ed stumbled and fell against the side of the bed, finding himself staring into familiar eyes made alien by the burning ferocity behind them. “Do you mean that?” It demanded, sharp and desperate.

Ed blinked at Al – at Truth – utterly bewildered by the sudden shift from coldly indifferent to blazing intensity. “Of course! He’s my brother, I’d do anything to keep him safe.” He swore. “You can take everything from me, so long as Al’s okay.”

“We cannot reverse all the damage, but without me, he will recover in time.” It informed him, which was so much better than the alternative that Ed didn’t even hesitate to nod. Something moved against his wrist, and when he looked, he saw tendrils, white and writhing and entirely too reminiscent of that place, spilling out of Al’s skin and seeping into Ed’s. The moment the last tendril detached from Al, he went boneless. Ed yelped in horror and scrambled to catch Al’s hand and check his pulse.

It was still there, and when Ed held very still and quiet, he could hear Al breathing, soft and steady. He slumped, all the way down to the floor, and pressed his head against the side of the mattress, trying not to cry and failing.

We need food.

Ed jumped, and looked around, but Truth hadn’t manifested anywhere, except… except inside him. “Fuck you. I’m not leaving Al.” He muttered to himself, relaxing again. And then something other than himself rolled his eyes. “Fuck. You.” Ed growled again, trembling finely and not relaxed at all anymore. If that thing could move his body without his permission…

Deal with the devil, indeed.

[kallezandra]

You Felt None of it?

Okay. So this was for day 3 of angst week, but I kind of flew off track. But I’m still happy with the results.

….and then I forgot to post it. Lmao

Rating: T

Summary: She had loved him for so long, but she had moved on. She’s with Sting now, and when Natsu pays her a visit a week before her wedding drunk. She has to deal with a lot of emotions, but she refuses to cry in front of him.

  There was a knock on the door. It jolted her awake from her position on a man’s chest. In the dark room, she could see moonlight reflected off his generous but lean muscles. Still drunk from sleep, she snuggled into Sting, subconsciously pretending he was Natsu.

     They had been dating for a year and a half now; they’re going to marry in a week. Getting married, to Sting, the idea of being married should’ve made her happy. It’s too bad she kept wishing it was Natsu. Another knock on the door of their apartment caused both blonds to stir.

    “I got it.” Lucy mumbled, rolling out of bed to stand. All she heard in acknowledgment was a tired grunt. Grabbing a shirt from the laundry pile, she opened her—their bedroom door to the living room. It was dark, but you could see dust moving around in the rays of moonlight. She stalked across the messy apartment. She heard another three lazy knocks that lacked cadence in any form.

   This person was frustrating her. Who has the audacity to knock three different times at two in the morning? Once was rude; twice was annoying, but three times! Reaching the cold door handle, she twisted and opened it. Who she saw on the other side made her heart stop, and a lump formed in her throat. She held her breath as she looked at his odd appearance: his messier-than-usual pink hair, bags under his eyes, and a dull look in his usually beautiful green eyes. His clothes were wrinkled and dirty, but partially covered by his leather jacket and scarf, and his knuckles were bleeding, but were starting to clot. What really made her raise an eyebrow though, was the heavy stench of alcohol that all but oozed from his pores.

    “Natsu…” She saw him scan down the shirt she was wearing and glare. She looked down at it and realized it was Sting’s. He grumbled and crossed his arms awkwardly. He was a mess, “Are… are you okay?” She stayed in place near the door frame, holding the door to her shoulder, unintentionally telling him he was not welcome he was not welcome in her—their apartment. He didn’t really notice though.

   “Oh-oh yeah! Best I’ve,” He hiccupped, “felt in a year and a half.” He unfolded his arms and started babbling while he stood in the danky, hallway. The light had a slight flicker to it, just enough to make it agitating. Now he was frustrating her.

     “Why are you here?” She asked in a confident tone, hardening her eyes so he couldn’t see the relief that flashed in them. He glanced at her, oddly serious. Her hand that rested on the door handle inside the apartment tightened its grip; her other hand didn’t moved, not even slightly, feigning disinterest.  

    “Because I needed to tell you that I will not be go-going to your wedding!” He giggled out, falling to the ground from loss of balance. She almost went to help him. Getting up quickly, he continued. “That’s why I went drinking; Gray told me it was the ‘liquid courage’ I needed to tell you, I think he told me for another reason though, but look at that! It worked!” He slurred out excitedly, bringing his hand up to do a clumsy ‘mind-blown’ hand signal. Then, he looked down, “Could’ve used that courage eighteen months ago,” Hiccup, “Maybe then… then things could’ve been different between you and me…” He whispered out, fidgeting with his fingers.

     Lucy stared at him with confused, watery eyes. He doesn’t see her for what, two months? Then, he showed up and babbled on cutely, reminding her heart of the love she had for him.

     What was his problem? Couldn’t he just leave her be? Just let her be happy? She loved him for so long, and now she was trying to get over him, and he shows up a week before her wedding. “Different?” What was she doing? No, Lucy!

       “Huh? Oh, nothing. The same reason I will not be at your wedding!” Natsu laughed out, putting his hands in his pocket. She raised an eyebrow. “I just love ya’. That’s all.”

       “What!” She asked loudly, seeing him flinch. She had been in love with him for so long, and he never showed any interest, ever, or at least she had thought he hadn’t. That’s why she said ‘yes’ when Sting asked her on a date, to move in, to get married, and this idiot had loved her too. Her eyes started to tear up because… it was too late. She had made a promise to Sting, and she won’t break it.

       He leaned his back against the wall to the right of her door and slid down it into a sitting position. Putting his hand inside his leather jacket, he pulled out a metal flask and took a sip. “Yep.”

      She could feel her tears, but she refused to let him see. Red-faced, she probed, “And you’re telling me this now, why?”

    Leaning back from his flask, he rested it on his knee. He closed his eyes, “I had waited to tell you. I never thought I was good enough. Who’d want a stupid, ignorant orphan, who’s got no money, no looks, and pink hair!” He stressed every reason thoroughly. Lucy felt her heart drop. He never knew that he loved every single one of those things about him, and so did many other girls; that had always bothered Lucy. “I told myself when …hic… I passed my college classes I was good enough for you. And, I worked so hard to pass, and I still barely did.”

    He took a break, “I don’t know… The day you told everyone you guys were together, I had planned on asking you out because I had just gotten my final grade—63% average. So, I hyped myself up, practiced in the bathroom mirror in Fairy Tail.” He moved his hands in weird motions and Lucy just stared, jaw dropping. “I just… When you walked in hanging off his arm, I just stared. Stared so hard I couldn’t feel the sympathetic pats on my back.” He ran his fingers through his hair, and took a sip from the flask.

    “I was so sure it was going to end. Then he asked you to move in and you said ‘yes’, I was still hopeful, slightly worried. I thought, ‘I will tell her when they break up, because Sting’s my friend, and you don’t do that to friends’. So I waited for the day you would dump him… you never did. Then to throw vinegar on my wound, the dipshit ask…hic…asked you to marry him,” He stopped to breathe heavily; she could hear the lump in his throat. “and… you said ‘yes’…” She could hear the desperate sadness in his tone. She saw him take a quick sip from his flask to calm himself down.

     He continued. “That was three months ago, and at the time I still thought ‘she is gonna call off the wedding, don’t worry’, and now, it’s a week before you get marr-married, and not to me, to him.”

   She was shocked, flabbergasted. She thought she was dreaming. Lucy felt relief and dread searing her insides. Natsu faced the wall. He loved her too… He closed his flask. She quickly wiped a tear away just before he turned to her from his sitting position to the left of her. “Don’t marry him, Luce…”

   Luce.

   Luce.

   The jerk hadn’t seen her for three months and then he came back to tell her not to get married to the man that actually treated her right for the last year and a half. The worst part though is the fact that she was actually considering it. Leave Sting, the man of her reality, for Natsu, the man of her dreams. “I have to, Natsu.”

   He stared at her with anger in his eyes. The green orbs were flaring with envy. He pushed himself up to stand in the brightly lit hallway. His drunken flush contrasting with the grey walls, he asked, “why? Can’t you just say, ‘I don’t’?”

   She could… no, Natsu—he hurt her, made her wait for years. And she loved Sting, right? She looked away.  “But, I-I don’t want to say no.” Then, she looked at him. He appeared to be surprised, like he didn’t expect that answer. Her heart broke more and more. She felt her tears coming back, “I lov-love him.” She glanced into his eyes, and all she could see was dull emptiness.

    “Wait—you mean you never, not even once, felt the same way?” His tone was laced with desperation as it quivered under the weight of the words. She could see him shaking with doubt and fear from his place on the ground to the left of her. He started to reach for his flask, and he rubbed his eyes, flinching when he touched his bruised eye. She hadn’t noticed that before; he must’ve gotten in a fight.

    Yes. “No.” She ground out, biting her lip.  The lump in her throat felt heavy and she averted her eyes.

    “But I thought… all those movie nights, the dancing at parties, grocery trips, the sneaking out, the New Year’s kiss we had, you felt none of it?” His voice was cracking and it seemed he was trying to hide his tears too. He took a shaky sip from the shiny metal container. He was sobering up far too quickly to have this conversation.

   She felt it all. Her hands clenched. “No, I didn’t.”He looked away and nodded his head distractedly, as though he was pretending to understand. Gulping down the rest of whatever substance he had in the flask, he turned.

    “Alright. Good to know. Have a good life… with Sting.” He whispered as kindly as he could manage, with his back to her. He started walking down the hallway, and she felt him slipping through her fingers.

     Stop him. “You too.” With his back to her she let her tears fall, unknowing Natsu was letting his fall too.

     With his back turned to her he responded in the clearest voice from him she had heard all night, “It’s kind of hard to when you’re not gonna be in it, Lucy Eucliffe.” Her eyes widened.

    She shut the door. Feeling the click of the metal vibrate throughout the door, she leaned into closed the door gently, shocked. She collapsed against it and started sobbing as quietly as she could so she wouldn’t wake up Sting.

    She broke down; she bawled.

    She was getting married.

---

    She was ready. Standing in front of the mirror, she stared at the beauty her that Levy, Erza, Bisca, and Cana had been working at for the past three hours—in silence. All of her friends knew of her problem, knew she was in love with Natsu. They also knew that she was getting married, to Sting.

    She loved him, but not like she loved Natsu. She stared at herself in the mirror for a little longer. Her blonde was down, and rested over her shoulders with a braided crown wrapped around her head. Her dress had lace on it almost everywhere, and the veil over her head made her look like an angel. She wondered why she would prepare herself like this for something she wasn’t even looking forward. In the reflection of the mirror, she saw Gray walk in, almost pulling off his tux jacket. He looked at her in the mirror, realized that he was stripping and stopped.

   Walking towards her, he held out an arm to her, “Ready to go?” She took his arm, and he led her out of the room to walk her down the aisle. Her father had died years ago of a heart attack, so Gray had kindly stepped up to the task.

   They stood expectantly just outside the doors of the chapel. When the music played they walked in. Following the white carpet slowly, Lucy subtly scanned for a head of pink hair. True to his word, he wasn’t here. Good, that made this a lot easier. Without realizing it, Lucy ended up beside Sting as  the priest started doing their vows, and with everything tradition did, she couldn’t help but wish it was Natsu standing where he was, standing handsomely in a tux, staring at her as though she was his world.

    Especially when she read her own vows.

    Then, the priest got to the important question, “Do you Lucy Heartfilia, take Sting Eucliffe to be your lawfully wedded husband.”

    She felt light-headed and sick. She knew what she really wanted.  She knew.

     And that was why she confused herself when she said, “I do…”

[amuletrebel]

Bring May Flowers (Ch. 15)

This is my favorite chapter! I waited so long! I listened to a playlist I have labeled as Romance for this chapter, and I legit almost started crying!

AO3 Link / FF.net Link

Prompt: Ridiculous Romantic Gestures

After the baking taboggle, Adrien decided to go all out to make it up to her. For the next couple days between visits, Adrien as Chat Noir prepared the excellent date plan. Sure it took a few close calls and using his hero persona to pull some strings, but Adrien made sure it would all be worth it in the end. He had to try extra hard to be tight-lipped about his plans whenever he saw Marinette at school. She smiled and laughed at him like usual, but he could see the blush that crept up her face whenever he even so much as mentioned anything that pointed to his alter ego. Seeing her reactions sent his heart skyrocketing. Oh yeah, it’ll definitely be worth it.

A couple nights of final touches and Chat was officially ready to show his pretty princess what he had planned to make up for the “Chat Blanc Incident” as they dubbed it. The hero leapt across the Parisian sky which sparkled with stars. He could even see a few constellations. Finally, he saw the light of her balcony. She was waiting for him as usual, reading a book with a blanket wrapped around her. Her hair was down for a change, a neon green headband tucking any loose strands away from her delicate freckled face. This confused him somewhat. He had told her to be ready for an adventure the night before. Why wasn’t she ready?

Chat landed gracefully onto her banister and hopped down onto her balcony with a knightly bow. “Good evening, my princess~”

“Good evening, my knight,” Marinette greeted with a content smile.

“Are you ready for a grand, and possibly over-the-top, romantic night out with your knight?” He extended a gloved hand out to her, which she took without hesitation, the level of trust she held for him as both sides evident in her bluebell eyes.

“One second, minou.”

She took off her blanket and his breath hitched. She wasn’t wearing Chat-inspired clothes or her pajamas under the blanket. She wore a lilac cold shoulder top with black lace decorating neckline and bottom, paired with jean shorts bedazzled at the pockets and lilac flats with a tiny bow stitched into them. They practically looked three-dimensional, like real bows. The ensemble was finished with a cute neon green choker around her neck, a tiny silver bell attached to it. It didn’t make any noise, so she must’ve removed the ball. Chat couldn’t breathe. Is this what heaven looked like? Because if so, then he definitely died happy.

“Now I’m ready.”

Her melodious voice snapped him out of his daze. He shook his head, still gaping. “W-wow! You just… You look…amazing!” Come on, brain! You can do better than that! You’re Chat Noir; the smoothest cat in Paris!

Marinette giggled. “Thank you. It took a little bit of subterfuge for you not to find it, but your reaction made it worth it.”

“Hey, I’m supposed to be surprising you tonight.”

“There’s still time for that, mon chaton.” She playfully flicked his bell, causing a blush to rise to his cheeks.

“W-well, let’s go then!” he squeaked, mentally bashing himself for losing his cool. He was supposed to be romantic tonight, not a blushing incoherent mess!

Chat pulled her in close and held her bridal-style. It brought back memories of that first akuma attack, just before they started dating. Looking back, he was almost grateful for that akuma, helping him figure out his feelings for the fantastic girl behind the mask. Marinette secured her arms around his neck, nuzzling his chest. He kept his grip firm as he hopped across the night sky. It reminded him of that night Glaciator attacked, when he essentially ditched Marinette to plan a date for, well, Marinette. And he felt down for Ladybug not showing, so he decided to show Marinette his surprise date, unknowing that Ladybug did in fact show up in that moment. Adrien couldn’t believe how stupid he had been then. But now he had time to rectify those mistakes.

It might’ve been the source of his nightmare, but he wanted to turn it into a happy place. Chat brought her to the Eiffel Tower and set her down. “Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed, and led her by the hand. She followed him without a hint of doubt. “Okay. Open your eyes.”

When her bluebell eyes opened, they instantly widened in surprised. Marinette gasped at the sight. It wasn’t just any room she walked into. It was the famous apartment hidden inside the Eiffel Tower, decorated with flowers and candles. She could tell the candles were fake from the lack of burning wax, but from the smell, the flowers were very much real. Purple roses lined almost every inch. Marinette wasn’t someone who had an in-depth knowledge of flowers, but she knew that purple roses meant love at first sight and deep enchantment.

“Chat…” she whispered, tears forming in her eyes. She turned around and through herself into Chat’s strong arms. “Thank you! It’s so beautiful!”

Chat chuckled, the vibrations of his chest making Marinette smile. “Well, Princess, this isn’t even the best part.” He moved out of the way and pulled out a small speaker, pressing play. Gentle music resounded around the room and Chat held out his hand once more. “Will the princess grace this undeserving knight with a dance?”

Marinette smiled and stepped closer, taking his hand. “Yes she will.”

Chat wrapped his other hand around the blunette’s waist while she placed her on his shoulder. The gracefully moved around the room, never bumping into anything or tripping. He twirled her a couple times and she laughed merrily. The world around them seemed to disappear, just the two of them remaining. Marinette laid her head on his shoulder and he used his arm to pull her closer, laying his head on hers as they danced. Even when the music ended and they were left in silent, the two lovers swayed gently to their own music; their heartbeats.

“I have one more thing,” the blonde muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.

Marinette pulled back in shock, but she wasn’t at all angry. “More? Chat, this is already ridiculously romantic! How could it possibly top this?”

Chat held her hand firmly in his, staring at her with such adoration in her green eyes that Marinette shifted in embarrassment. She never thought someone could love her as fully as Chat did. She hoped Adrien would’ve, but she realized that there probably wasn’t a chance of that.

“You underestimate me, Princess~” The black-clad hero took her out of the apartment and out onto the bridge, underneath the starry sky. She pulled her in close and pointed out into the distance at a bright star that didn’t have any other star twinkling around her. “See that star?” Marinette nodded. “Well, I managed to do a little research, and now that star is officially named Marinette.”

“What?” Marinette looked at him skeptically. “You’re kidding.”

Chat shook his head with a cheesy grin. “This cat puns. No kidding here.”

He pulled a piece of paper out from behind him and handed it to her. The blunette opened it and gasped. He really wasn’t kidding. It was right there, in official print. A star was named after her. The evidence of such a claim was right in her hands.

“Chat… You are the most ridiculously romantic cat I’ve ever met in my life.” Tears of joys flowed down her cheeks as she hugged the paper to her chest. “Why? Why go to such extreme lengths for me? I would’ve been fine with just the flowers or something.”

Chat laid his gloved hand on her cheek, brushing a loose strand of inky hair out of her face. His smile melted her heart and made it pick up speed all at once. “Because” he leaned down so their eyes could meet at the same level “I know a bright light when I see one. And I want to give her everything she deserves and more.” He bumped his forehead against herself gently, his smile never wavering. “I love you, Marinette. Let me love you as fully as I do.”

He leaned in and kissed her, which she happily reciprocated. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands settled on her waist. They shared a passionate kiss high above Paris. It really was the city of love, bringing two souls such as them together. They didn’t need anything else in that moment, just drowning in one another’s love.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

[d2diamond]

The door to the apartment slammed open, shaking the pictures on the walls and making Otabek jump as he brushed his teeth. He knew without looking that Yuri had returned from his run, and seemingly hadn’t worked off the mood that he had been in since the night before.

They had been living together for three years. There was a quiet rhythm between them that drummed through their lives and made every day a little better. Chores were completed without the need for nagging on either end, food preparation was always a joint activity, and they trained with each other in quiet support and mutual understanding. Bad days were resolved with junk food and video games, good days were celebrated with cooking elaborate meals and teasing each other straight through the process. They had traditions and schedules, fights and friendly cuddles, and basically filled the void in each other’s lives without an extreme amount of effort. Their coexistence was easy in a way that everyone had said it wouldn’t be, and both of them were a little smug about it.

Until recently.

It had started at Skate Canada where they were both assigned during the Grand Prix run. They shared a hotel room to cut the cost of travel and spent their time on and off the ice within a comfortable distance of each other. Their rhythm existed even outside of their apartment, and Otabek had felt a sense of peace because of it.

Then a reporter had asked the question that had been asked behind whispered hands for at least a year. Bold and brass, she shoved a microphone in Yuri’s face and asked how long he had been dating his best friend. Startled Yuri hadn’t answered the question, scowling at the reporter as he stormed away to the locker room.

Two days had gone by since they had returned to St. Petersburg. The plane ride home had been tortuously silent and every moment since had been offbeat and out of whack. Otabek could feel the lingering of something heavy, but couldn’t find the words to chase it away. Eying his own reflection briefly, he dropped his tooth brush back in the holder and prepared to face whatever Yuri was about to throw his way.

Yuri paced across the living room. He had run for almost two hours, but his body was as keyed up as it was when he left. The thoughts that had been in his mind, all the memories swirling together in a confusing tornado, were beginning to break his sanity. Otabek was the person he would talk to in these situations, but this time it was Otabek that was leaving him off balance.

The words that started the tornado were simple. How long have you been dating Otabek Altin? He remembered the question as if it was still being asked, and every time he replayed the moment in his mind, his heart gave a definitive squeeze. He wasn’t dating Otabek Altin, but he wanted to, and that realization knocked him completely off of his feet. Growling at his own stupidity, Yuri continued to pace, silently pulled at the end of his own ponytail as he tried to calm the anxious hum vibrating through him.

Even in angered motion, Yuri was beautiful. Otabek had always thought so, but it hadn’t been until the past year that he allowed that thought to reach the front of his mind. When he had finally met Yuri, on that faithful day in Barcelona, he knew immediately that Yuri needed a friend. He didn’t need someone to love him the way Yuuri and Victor loved each other, Yuri needed someone he could count on without any ulterior motive. So, Otabek had carefully boxed up all those feelings, putting walls around his heart so that he could fulfill the role. And he had been, without question, for more than four years. In moments like these though, when Yuri was full of raw emotion, those feelings began to leak from the overfilled confines of the hidden parts of Otabek’s heart.

“You!” Yuri yelled, pointing a finger at Otabek. He didn’t mean to sound angry, but he still hadn’t learned to control his overzealous ways of expressing affection. “Look, I need to talk to you, but…” lowering his voice from its current shout volume, Yuri sighed, “I don’t know where to start.”

Staying safely at the end of the hallway, Otabek swallowed hard before nodding. “How about telling me why you have been avoiding me since Canada?” He saw the blush wash over Yuri’s face and felt the dread land in his stomach. If Yuri told him now that he didn’t have feelings like that for him, Otabek was positive that he could make himself forget that he had always loved Yuri. He was also positive that he was completely lying to himself.

“I… uh…” Yuri’s words faltered as his anger deflated. The truth was he didn’t know why he was avoiding Otabek. Normally when a reporter said something stupid, they would spend an hour laughing it off and then move on. This time Yuri couldn’t laugh it off and for a day or two he pretended he didn’t know why. Yesterday, however, he had taken to the internet, googling himself and Otabek together out of an insane need to do something potentially self-destructive. What he had found had left him with a lot of questions.

Clearing his throat, he finally faced Otabek. “That reporter asked me how long we’ve been dating. But we’re not… you know… dating.” The carpet was more fascinating than Yuri gave it credit for, and he acknowledged this as he stared down at it to hide his own awkwardness.

Otabek didn’t say anything. The pit in his stomach felt like it was opening wider, sucking in every hopeful thought he had ever possessed. He would have never pushed Yuri into a relationship, and had long ago accepted the fact that Yuri may not ever want a relationship with him or anyone else for that matter. Even with the shift in their relationship over the past few months, physically and emotionally bringing them closer than they had ever been, Otabek had still suppressed his hope. Leaning against the wall of the hallway, watching Yuri shuffle patterns into the carpet with his toe, Otabek knew that his denial had been broken. He loved Yuri, and he was about to sacrifice his own heart because of it. “I-”

“Are you in love with me?” Yuri snapped his head up, challenge burning in his eyes. Why he couldn’t have a conversation about feelings without sounding ready for a fist fight was beyond his comprehension, and he continued to glare at Otabek, daring him to answer. “Don’t lie to me. If all these internet psychologists are full of crap and you aren’t in love with me, just tell me. Then I can stop wishing it was true and we can go back to normal.” Shocked by his own admission, Yuri clamped a hand over his mouth feeling his heartbeat thud loudly in his ears.

It took Otabek’s brain a second to catch up. “You want me…” Otabek stopped to take a shaky breath. “Do you want me to be in love with you?” He felt the threat of tears and bit the inside of his cheek to steady himself. His stomach dropped as he watched Yuri begin to shake his head, but his breath stopped when the shake became a nod. Yuri’s own eyes were filling with tears, the pink on his cheeks darkening to an embarrassed red.

Then Otabek was moving. He reached the back of the couch and vaulted over top of it, throwing himself at Yuri and dragging him into a hard hug. Unknowing which one of them was shaking, Otabek pulled back and laced his fingers around Yuri’s wrist to pull the hand away from Yuri’s face.

“Do you love me?” Yuri still had an edge to his question, brows furrowed and eyes laser focused on Otabek’s face. They had been this close before, but Yuri had never felt it the way he was now. The tornado dissipated in his mind, and all that was left was the truth. He loved his best friend. He loved Otabek Altin.

“Damnit, Yuri,” Otabek reached up to touch Yuri’s cheek, wiping away a falling tear with his thumb. “I love you. Best friend and more.” Realizing he was the one who was shaking, Otabek took a steadying breath trying to calm himself down from the rush of the moment.

“I love you too,” Yuri almost laughed as the pressure released in his chest. Placing a hand on Otabek’s hip, Yuri lifted his own hand to caress Otabek’s cheek. “Are you going to kiss me or not?” Yuri lifted an eyebrow, presenting the question with a hint of mocking.

Relief swept over Otabek as he studied Yuri’s lop-sided smile. Teasingly, he shook his head. Otabek laughed as Yuri growled, grabbing Yuri’s face with both of his hands and guiding him into a kiss which was filled with all of Otabek’s renewed hope for the future.

[notarelationship]

Klaine Advent 2017

The Late Edition

Day 18 - Stir

Summary: Blaine is new at McKinley. Kurt finds him interesting. Nerd!Blaine/Skank!Kurt

Word Count: 1018

I will be putting this up on AO3 after the advent is over and I can fix up some spelling and syntax errors

--

“Hi Blaine.”

Tina was waiting for him at his locker when he arrived at school the next day, just like she did every morning. As if everything was the same as the last time she’d seen him. Blaine supposed that to her everything was.

“Hi Tina,” Blaine smiled at her as he opened his locker. “Did you have a nice rest of the weekend?” He hoped she couldn’t hear the disappointment in his voice, Blaine hadn’t really expected that Kurt would be there to see him in the morning, but it hadn’t stopped him from hoping.

“Just the usual.”

“Homework,” Blaine said, knowingly. Tina’s parents put a lot of pressure on her to get good grades. “Did you finish the outline for Cresswell? I was having some trouble with the medieval section.” Tina filled him in as they walked to class, taking her seat next to him just before the bell rang.

After collecting the homework, their teacher had just started going over the outline for their next short paper when the door to the classroom opened and Kurt slid in.

“Why Mr. Hummel, what a surprise!” Blaine could see Kurt offer the teacher a mock smile. “To what do we owe the pleasure this morning?”

Kurt pulled out a class schedule, as if he were a new student just joining them 8 weeks into the school year rather than someone who’d been a student the entire time.

“I’m supposed to be here.” Kurt waved the paper in front of him.

“Did they just bother telling you now?” the teacher snatched the paper out of Kurt’s hand, read it for a brief few seconds, then handed it back with an annoyed expression. “Well then. Why don’t you just take a seat in the back for now.” Kurt shrugged, but looked at Blaine and winked. Blaine could feel his face flush and knew Tina was staring at him.

“What was that about?” Tina whispered, leaning heavily into Blaine’s space. Blaine shook his head. He didn’t want to say anything, not in class, but he wasn’t exactly sure what to tell her, either. Oh nothing, we had sex this weekend but it’s fine. I’m fine. Blaine did not feel fine. He felt a little nauseated. Although it could just as easily been from excitement as trepidation.

Kurt kept looking at him as he made his way down the aisle, but instead of sitting in an empty seat in the back, Kurt stopped just behind Blaine and stared at the kid sitting in the next row until he got up and moved to the back. Blaine didn’t turn around to look, though he could see every other person in class was watching Kurt sit down.

Once everyone had settled down and class finally got started, Blaine felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, several times. He had a feeling they were form Kurt, but there was no way he was going to check until class was over. There had already been enough commotion for one hour.

Their teacher kept Kurt behind after class, so Blaine excused himself quickly once the bell rang, making an excuse to Tina about needing the boys room, which is where he found himself locked in a stall two minutes later, checking his messages.

Hi Blaine! I came to class

I tried to get to school early, but Im out of practice getting up in time

i have a great view of your ass when you move around on yout chair.

I may have to come to class evry day

Blaine could feel his face heat up. He still didn’t know what kurt wanted. They weren’t boyfriends when they fooled around, were they boyfriends now? If he asked Kurt, would Kurt think he was too much of a dork to still want to see him? Overthinking this was going to stir up his anxiety, Blaine was sure.

When the bell for lunch period finally rang, Blaine sneaked out to meet Kurt under the bleachers, as planned. As he approached, he could see Kurt sitting on one of the old couches, huddled into himself. Blaine frowned. He’d seemed a lot more animated in class that morning.

“Hey,” he said, when he’d got close enough. Blaine could see Kurt relax, as if his entire body had been wound up like a top, and someone had finally sprung it, causing him to leap into the air.

“Blaine!” Kurt came close, reaching for Blaine before pulling his hand back.

Blaine swallowed. “Is everything okay?”

Kurt shrugged, but it wasn’t as casual a gesture as it could have been. “I wasn’t sure you were coming.”

“You asked me to.” Blaine gripped at the strap of his bag. Should he not have? “Did you not want me to?”

“Did you not want to?” Kurt looked nervous. “You never answered my messages.”

Oh. “I wanted to. Want to.” Blaine took a step closer. “I always want to spend time with you.” Kurt blushed and looked away. “Is that stupid? I’m sorry.” Blaine turned away. “You probably don’t want, I mean, we didn’t say we were boyfriends.” Blaine shook his head, muttering I’m so stupid under his breath.

“Wait, Blaine.” Kurt stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Is that - do you want that? I mean, I - we’re friends, and then that happened -” Kurt waved his hand in some unknowable gesture. “This weekend, I mean. It happened.”

“It did.” Blaine worried his hands over his bag strap again. “And, I mean, I understand if that’s not something you want, you know, with me, but I -” Blaine wriggled, pent up nervous energy starting to get the better of him. “If you don’t think I’m too much of a geek, I mean,” Blaine finished, not entirely sure if he’d said what he wanted to. “I would want that, if you do.”

The smile that broke out on Kurt’s face nearly knocked Blaine over.

“I want that,” he said, his voice high and breathless. “Can I kiss you now?”

Blaine nodded, grinning, dropping his bag onto the ground as Kurt cupped his face in both hands. “Please.”

[cochinitasdance]

11.11.20DanceLIST

Welp took a gigantic hike, further away from SD city limits, and much steeper than my usual trails. A much bigger mountain in east county on Monday night. The air was beyond fantastic. Luckily I was able to soak in the brisk night air and clear sky before the rains came in -reached the car as the sprinkles began. Felt like the entire country was being cleansed.

So the next day brought my monthly bleed because no great experience goes unpunished and so I’ve taken it a bit easy for a couple days now. Finally .. finally? With a little bit more energy today. Probably yoga tonight. I’ve got Veterans day to overlook and sleep in on and its only 4:26 a.m. I’ve been supplied with an edible menstrual aid so it’s kicking in at the perfect time.

Bush Tetras - Can't Be Funky

Possibly the coolest band of the US NY no wave underground scene next to ESG and just as fun. I love the open defiance to male macho toxicity waaaay before it became fashionable. Even Blondie had to pander. Probably why they weren’t promoted. This song is full flavour female -LOVE LOVE LOVE IT!!!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=63t_egLuo1A

The KLF feat. Tammy Wynette - Justified & Ancient

I know I may have said this before but JAM is in my top 10 (somewhere) of best dance songs ever written. Really has so many sonic textural, cultural cross pollinations and moods, a mystical chorus, a zany rap, hip hop beats, 60′s style psychedelic guitar riffs and freakin Tammy Wynette. HEY HEY All aboard for Mu-Mu LAND!!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8m27PWv1rzM

Delia Derbyshire - Doctor Who (1963) - Original Theme

All hail the pioneer legend of modern electronic music

All hail the pioneer legend of electronic recording

All hail the composer of the Dr. Who Theme Song

Feel her vibrations channel through you!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=75V4ClJZME4

Thomas Dolby - She Blinded Me With Science

This Thomas Dolby video was an obsession for me around 8 years old. I had developed a deep respect for science and, consequently, stupid mad crushes on waify nerdy dorks by then. Shame that I was to find out much later in life that all the cute geeks were replaced with flannel wearing moron junkies. My generation had it backwards and I will NEVER forgive those boys for getting it completely wrong. You weren’t rebels, you were BORING and unfashionable AS FUCK!! Triple goes for the straight edge crapola that ruined my high school party vibe -thanks for nothing you cowards.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V83JR2IoI8k

Newcleus - jam On It

Jam ja-ja-ja-ja JAMONIT!!  wicky wicky wicky wicky wicky wicky

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GpxaaM6wkZw

Nico - You Forget To Answer

As haunting as Nico herself: A ride into unknowing madness. The ghost of Laura Palmer forever falling into bursting flames. A Francis Bacon portrait coming to life. There is no answer only darkness. Darkness answers with a frozen heart pumping her baby full of despair. Did you forget? Did you forget the question?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=st0BQig0enQ

[monstrous-beauty]

Monstrous Beauty Text Posts

Jake: What (and i cannot stress this enough) the fuck/ sure. blame the guy who's a huge idiot who causes a lot problems, again/ Me in jail: so are you guys familiar with the cell block tango/ Apparently "the vibes are off" isn't a just excuse to leave work early/ what, from the bottom of my heart, the fuck/ what doesn't kill doesn't kill you/ yesterday at target the cashier said "your receipt is the bag* and I responded with "you too" so I've been dealing with that for the past 18 hours but I'm slowly coming to terms with it which is cool/ *enters my own password* i'm in/ due to personal reasons I will be cheating death/ *gets down on one knee* *gets down on the other* *doesn't get up ever*/ Not to be dramatic but if I don't get my life together I will die/ I have pure intentions, bitch! you can't kill me/ cop: can you describe the guy who stabbed you me: yeah he was not very friendly

Storm: Which is messier my life or my hair/ "I am unknowable" I say as I overshare my biggest childhood trauma's in the first conversation with someone/ I love laying the FUCK down and sleeping/ me: [vibrating slightly because I had too much caffeine] everything in the world is my fault/ my only goal in life is to destroy the space-time continuum/ i am a huge fan of space, both outer and personal/ Yeah sex is great but have you looked at common English words and then followed their systematic time changes back through Old English and Proto-Germanic all to the way to their Proto-Indo-European roots, whispered one of those roots out loud, and been overwhelmed by a sense of Lovecraftian insignificance as it dawns on you that you just reached back across scores of centuries and spoke a word older than civilization itself?/ but i don't have a hyperfixation i'll die

Adrienne: im so tired of this life. i want to be a roomba. i want knives taped to me. i want to be set loose./ are my prophetic visions a joke to you/ There has been a lady inside my head screaming for the past 10 years and u think taking a bath and doing yoga will stop her? U are wrong. She is a very mad lady and she will not be silenced/ Cranky because you haven't had any prophetic dreams to aid you on your quest aren't you/ i wish it was 1600 so i cood spelle words howe everr my harte destyred/ me: *hangs out with little kids and tries to teach them self love and feminist ideas*/ Pros and cons of wearing all black pros: hot as hell cons: hot as hell/ If someone points at your black clothes and asks you who's funeral it is, a look around the room and casual "haven't decided yet" is a good response

Solais: mentally i'm at least 5"11. physically? don't worry about it/ don't call yourself edgy unless you talk to dead people and have daddy issues/ im a simple gal. people raise their voices at me, i cry for an hour/ once i figure out how to hold a conversation it's frienship for you bitches/ me: *is tiny* me: (;'._.');/ no homo bro *thinks about you* thinks about you* *thinks about you* *thinks about you* *thinks about you* *thinks about you* *thinks about you*/ Listen man I'm just trying to wear soft sweaters and read my books and love myself/ i was put on this earth to eat bagels and be gay/ actually Ratatouille is the dish's name, you're thinking of Ratatouille's monster. im what the kids call

attention seeking/ me gay? why yes thank you for noticing/ on all levels except physical, i am a little heart shaped candy that says "i'm all yours!"/ nothing is awkward or cheesy if you don't give a fuck. i'm on this earth to have a good time. not to be cool./ i aspire to be one of those people who is known for always smelling good and treating people kindly/ big heart energy/ me @ you: >> this is my protecting women and girls knife/ doing violence tonight so watch out if you're weak to attacks/ why did my last two braincells have to be a sad one and a stupid one/ goes to the kitchen holds a knife in my hand for a while. puts it back. goes back to my room

Mal: these hands rated e for everyone/ forgive me father for I have sinned in all the coolest and most glamorous ways possible/ "I expected better from you" well that was your fault lmao i got nothing to do with that/ im beautiful im delicious i literally cannot die i want 200 dollars/ friendly reminder that i literally cannot die, and id love to see any of you fuckers try to take me down/ Slutty in theory but not in practice/ I just wannna be vaguely unsettling, not even scary or creepy, I just want people to look at me and feel like there's something A Little Bit Wrong but they don't know what when they tell the story of the slighty cryptid being to their friends later/ Hmmm gay rights but only for me i think? The rest of you are on your own/ i say i'm gay a lot for someone who is technically bisexual/ occupation: the family disappointment/ [steps on my emotions and grinds them under my heel] anyways/ i am evil and not straight/ me: breathes parents: I AM SICK AND TIRED OF YOUR ATTITUDE/ you ever listen to your dad talk and be like "why are you like this?"/ dont you hate when you wake up and you're awake/ oh god...oh fuck...*yearns*/ Due to personal reasons I'll be going feral/ Quitting school to become a plant who wants to join me we can make a forest/ Anyways! *climbs out of the scattered and ruined debris of my feelings*/ so what if i love you. shut up/ i ask myself 48 times a day "am I being dramatic? Is this #toomuch?" the answer is always yes of course/ *lawyer voice* eat a dick, your honor/ I may seem like an asshole but deep down I'm good person and even deeper down I'm a bigger asshole/ in my defense, i was left unattended