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drxwsyni · 4 years

Text

Always, and Forever

Pairing: Yandere Koushi Sugawara x f!Reader

Synopsis: Koushi has taken care of you for so long, by now it’s something you’ve come to find solace in. And so it pains you to have to part from him on purge night, forced into the outside world in hopes of quelling your lingering embers of desired independence, however that may happen.

a/n: This is my fic for the Yandere Purge AU writing collab, hosted by the Lovesick Discord server! Here’s the link to the m.list where you can read the other fics members have written for this collab! I really didn’t mean for my part to get this long, but alas I have zero self control.

Thanks you so so so much to @yanderart for beta-ing this fic, you literally always work wonders for me while also being the sweetest human being ever. Many kithes for you my dear friend.

9.7k words

Warnings: Dubcon, heavy stockholm syndrome, infantilization, attempted assault (when Daichi makes a brief appearance), injury, depictions of violence, gaslighting, manipulation.

_____

He felt like home.

Koushi’s embrace, his words, his smell―the stability he surrounded you with.

The love he surrounded you with.

You felt light around him. Mind in another place, floating off into feelings of quietude. A swell of comfort bloomed in your chest at the sight of him. His warm and familiar smile, adoration for you shining in his hazel brown eyes. The way his fingers ghosted across your skin, gentle, as if you were made of the most delicate glass, and any move too unintentionally harsh would break you.

It’s why he took such good care of you. Making sure you were safe, out of harm from the dangers of the outside world. Tucked away in his home a small ways away from the outskirts of the city. He held a certain pride to it all―the knowledge that you were protected from all that could ail you, and all because of him.

You doubted that there was anyone else on the planet who would do the same. Who would learn every single little thing about you, know you better than you knew yourself. Nobody else existed that would dedicate so much to making sure you never had to worry your pretty little head over the stresses of everyday life.

There was nobody but Koushi.

As he held you close, your back pressed into his as the two of you lay in bed, it was obvious that he was all that you needed.

His arms wrapped around you, and with the lulling sensation of sleep slowly washing over you like a rising tide, it was easy to melt into his embrace. If you relaxed enough, let your inhibitions escape you, just how he always urged you to do, you might just feel like all is right in your small world with him.

“...You know what day tomorrow is, right?”

But that was why you couldn’t relax.

Koushi keeps you on your toes, biding his time for you to step out of line. He waits patiently, observing, but not compelling you more than normal on any given day. Your lover keeps with routine, fearful that changes will be too much for you to handle. Only, you wish there was a change, anything to stave off the mental consequences that repetitive actions brought.

You couldn’t relax, because even if he felt like home, it was still not your home. You lost that a year ago tomorrow.

...Purge night.

Free reign given to those like Koushi, and for those such as yourself. To have and to hold, or to run free. Two opposing forces in a race against the clock to fulfill their desires.

But you didn’t even make it past the first five minutes.

• • •

Seated on his couch, TV mantled above the fireplace, a warm glow dancing across the room.

You were nervous―painfully so.

That dreaded letter came in the mail. You were selected to be a participant, the government mandated notice read. Unfortunately for you, it didn’t read who you were selected by. It was why you were scared out of your mind, and why you went to the only person who could calm you down.

At his side, his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer, Koushi soothingly reassured you that everything would be alright. With his words, low and gentle, softly spoken in your ear. Or with his actions, a welcomingness that you could never refuse. His home being a safe haven, his touch coaxing you to let yourself accept that you had not a single thing to fret about with him.

He offered protection for the night. And you knew that you wouldn’t make it out there by yourself, so of course you obliged.

You obliged when he said to make yourself comfortable, when he offered to put on some music to ease the tension, whatever could assist your shaken soul. Your nerves were quite clearly running rampant― “Nothing a good cup of tea can’t fix.”

Koushi was right, it did wonders for your state, subdued more and more by the second.

Soon, the announcement played across the screen. Words in bold urging caution for some, and sparking adrenaline for many.

For you, things felt...strange.

The task of placing who had signed you up for this dreadful night was mind boggling. You thought to your coworkers, childhood friends, even lingering acquaintances that had entered and left your life in the span of a single day.

Still, nobody came to mind…

Not until the announcement ended.

Or the sirens outside ceased their countrywide alerts.

It wasn’t until you lost the feeling in your limbs, did you know where your mistake lay.

Taking the form of your always caring friend, never the one to leave you unguarded. Constantly checking up on you, ensuring you were looking after yourself. Doing everything he could to take responsibility for all those little things you couldn’t handle, just to lift that extra weight off you.

But really, Koushi didn’t think you could handle anything. Not like he could. Your struggles weren’t something you, a fragile and vulnerable thing, could ever possibly manage. In his eyes, you just weren’t made to take care of yourself.

That’s what he told you as he shut the television off, and as he laid you down on the couch.

He spoke so lovingly, “It’s alright, my sweet girl.”

By then it was too late. You were reduced to being completely defenceless, at risk of quite literally everything.

...That’s not how he saw it, though.

To Koushi, you’d never been safer.

That was the reality―you in his home away from modern dangers. Then, and now still.

• • •

A year had just about gone by. You no longer thought for yourself, for the most part. Koushi tried to force you into a state of complete dependence, and you couldn’t deny that he did a good job of it. You knew this because mostly, your memory was in shambles. From days upon days upon weeks where you let him do all the work, things didn’t really stick. And what significant thing was there to remember in the same laid out and unfaltering routine?

He would always dote on you, not once have you needed to ask him to do so. “It’s my responsibility,” he would repeatedly tell you. It wasn’t your place to fend for yourself―that was his job.

With how thorough he was with that agenda, not letting you slip up for a second without reprimanding you, Koushi had molded your mindset to fit his ideals. A year of reminders, of insisting submission upon you―all serving one purpose.

To make you see, make you understand that he was the only one for you.

But he knew just as much, if not more than you, that still there remained the flickering flames of autonomy. The need for it dim, but its light still a beacon of strength that fueled you to resist him.

Koushi waited for an answer, an acknowledgement to his question that no doubt stirred conflict in your mind.

Your hands gripped the bedsheets, a seed of dread planted in your chest. Just slightly, you nodded your head in confirmation. Of course you knew what tomorrow was.

The day where, only because it’s illegal not to do so, those like you were given a chance at freedom. To make up for failing last year, and to obtain that independence you once held.

You didn’t even know if you completely wanted it though...

Behind you, Koushi pulled you closer into him. Carefully, he leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss against your temple. His hand intertwined with yours, giving it a small squeeze.

And nothing more was said on the matter.

_____

You woke up in his arms, a safe cocoon under the sheets with the morning daylight seeping through the cracks of the closed blinds. Of course, Koushi was already awake.

Sometime throughout the night, you shifted into your current position―head resting on his chest, arm thrown over his torso. You sighed happily as you were met in your waking state with the feeling of his hand on your waist, holding you against him as he thumbed the soft and nightgown clothed skin soothingly, a repeated back and forth.

His morning voice always made you feel different. A little raspy, but still coated in his loving tone, creating butterflies in your stomach. “Mornin’, pretty girl.”

Still wrapped in the comfort of a post sleep haze, you nuzzled your face into his chest. “Mmmn...mornin’.”

If you were looking at him, you’d be able to see his expression that was practically dripping in admiration. You might find his tiredly intimate words and motions endearing, but he found that of yours to be nearly enough to stop his heart.

Really, everything you did had that effect.

...It was a shame he’d have to go without it later tonight.

For now however, he’d let you sleep in. It was the weekend after all, and you needed your beauty rest. That, and he wasn’t about to ruin this moment by discussing the inevitable.

_____

Neither of you had yet to speak of what was soon to come, but that didn’t matter. Not when, even from the moment he got you out of bed, that reality was already having an influence on your day.

Normally, Koushi would opt to dress you in something a little more delicate. He liked the sight of you in a silken nightgown, an earthy pale pink, or pastel blues. Something to represent how fragile he thought you to be. Of course, it was never a practical outfit. But you had nowhere you needed to be, remaining inside his home your only job.

This morning's upgrade of a real dress, one with pockets, double lined and long sleeve, was the first reminder of tonight’s main event. All in all, it was pretty. You liked it, you were grateful for it.

But it only made your chest tighten, an indescribable hint of trepidation taking hold of your being.

The day goes on, you once again settling into routine. It wasn’t hard doing so, especially since now you’ve grown used to how unwavering it is. You actually find it quite nice.

If you forced yourself to step outside of your adopted headspace, it was just barely possible to pinpoint when you became this docile. When the rules Koushi had both mentally and physically beat into you became automatic actions. Or, when they didn’t seem like rules, but more so guidelines for a healthy routine that you genuinely wanted to complete.

Because you did feel healthy. You got plenty of sleep, since you always went to bed when he told you to. You had a balanced diet, because even though Koushi was busy with work, he always managed to prepare you a proper meal. You felt at peace, because you forgot why you were here in the first place.

So, separating from that compliance, and forcing yourself to remember your reality―you’d say it’s been roughly three months since you started to enjoy living with Koushi. And now that you’ve memorized the routine he’s set up for you, you know that when he sits you down on the couch, while he remains standing in front of you before speaking―these are special circumstances.

It’s just after dinner, a little past 5 o’clock. He has yet to help you switch into your evening routine, which normally consists of giving you a task such as reading or drawing to pass the time, until you have to get ready for bed.

You know that he’s looking down at you, but you can’t bring yourself to return his gaze. When you caught a glimpse of it, it only stirred anxiety inside of you. He wasn’t tense. He wasn’t upset. He seemed...casual.

Too casual for the conversation you were about to have.

“I know this is stressful for you, sweetheart. You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

Your hands are folded on your lap, nails digging into the skin in an attempt to distract you from the developing worry encasing you.

Much to your dismay, Koushi crouches down in front of you, a hand placed gently atop your knee. Like an adult trying to get on the level of a child, which honestly is what he makes you feel like sometimes when he speaks in such a soft tone. It forces you to look him in the eyes.

He’s right―you could always say no.

Mandatory by law, those like you who are bound to your ‘lover’ by their legal ownership over you must be given a chance to regain independence. However, you’re completely within your rights to deny the offer. Of course, this would mean that for another year you would be stuck with them.

The problem is, many of the individuals who deny the offer no longer find it as being stuck.

You don’t know what you would define it as.

What you do know is that if you go, the odds of making it out with that sense of freedom aren’t very encouraging. Your stamina is all but entirely depleted, given how the most activity you get is by walking throughout the house to either the bathroom, living room or kitchen.

On top of that, you have zero clue where you’d go. Being in the same spot for a year hasn’t exactly done anything for your sense of direction, or your understanding of the city’s layout. And the last time you went outside, the most you saw was the same view from the living room’s window.

Because you only got about ten feet from the back door before Koushi caught you.

That experience didn’t give you anything to help you in trying your hand at tonight’s offer. In fact, it only made things more difficult. The mere thought of what had ensued after he dragged you back inside his home was immobilizing.

It was likely the very reason as to why deciding if you wanted to attempt to leave Koushi was so debilitating. When even thinking of taking a single step outside struck fear into your core.

...

You should say no.

But of course, things would never be that simple. Not now at least.

Those embers of resistance still burned inside of you. Albeit dangerously fleeting, you could just barely recall the indulgences of your past life. A time where you still held that independence, when you could choose to do things for yourself. Small things you took for granted, like fast food or staying up late and binging shows―while the memories were clouded, you could still recognize the feeling they gave you.

Of warmth, or of the mindless pleasure that you used to never think twice about seeking.

A pang of guilt shot through you, realizing how selfish you were for wanting to leave Koushi over that. He’d been so good to you, making sure you barely had to lift a finger. Yet here you were, yearning for things that would only do you harm, a fact he’d repeated countless times in the early days of living with you.

But, tonight was the only night of the year when you got to be a little selfish. The prospect of earning those little independent privileges was strangely like fuel to the nearly burnt out fire of your lingering resistance.

You looked back at the grey haired man, still calmly awaiting an answer.

“N-no, no...I want to do this, I think…”

And there was that smile again, all too soft and gentle for what you could only guess was some well contained detestment for your words. He looked understanding, and to anyone else the way he regarded you would be endearing.

What a loving boyfriend….

If only they knew.

With that, he let you remain on the couch, waiting patiently for his return while he moved momentarily into another room. Soon he returned, and for the first time in a whole year, he let you watch television that wasn’t dumbed down animated shows, or wholesome animal documentaries.

Koushi put on the news, or more specifically, the countdown broadcast to the purge.

_____

You could almost laugh at how rattled simply watching the news made you. It would be amusing, accept your heart was beating too fast, mind racing with worrying thoughts to realize the irony of the situation.

This night was supposed to be your only chance of gaining legal custody of your own independence. You should be beaming. Yet here you were, anxiously bouncing your leg, bottom lip between your teeth as the announcer went on with scripts of how people across the country were preparing for when 6 pm hit.

And Koushi, the one who should be stressed with the possibility of you slipping out of his grasp―he was doing fine.

For the most part, at least.

Sure, a small hint of dread for the highly, and he means highly, unlikely was present in the back of his mind. But Koushi knew you. He knew every single little thing that made you who you were.

Of course he did, he loved you after all.

So that flicker of dread remained almost nonexistent. Because he also knew how this night would end, and that was more than enough to calm his nerves.

Unconsciously, you leaned into Koushi’s side. He was seated right next to you on the middle of the couch. An arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Your left hand in his and placed on his lap, his fingers not so absentmindedly drawing soothing circles into your skin.

You didn’t see, but his eyes never left your troubled and practically shaking form.

He felt bad for taking pride in the sight.

It meant that you were terrified of leaving him. And you should be, it was so dangerous out there. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself, it’s why he did it for you. So, seeing this proof that in less than ten minutes, you’d be going out into the night alone, had you shivering in fear―it only told him that what he was doing was right.

Yes, it did hurt him to see you so distressed, but you needed to learn your place.

Which was next to him, always.

And when he thought about it, this is how his lessons always went. Koushi would never hurt you unless you deserved it. Unfortunately for you, you tended to do a lot of things that warranted punishment. And he was eager to help you see things his way. Tonight was no different.

You’d never be in any real danger.

He’d never go as far as to permanently damage you in any way.

If you deserved the punishment, then he should be allowed to have a little fun with it.

Both of you were brought out of your respective intense thoughts as the room was bathed in red. The television screen, now vibrantly pigmented in the colour, began playing the annual emergency broadcast, alarms blaring from the speakers.

Koushi saw how you flinched, and like the loving person he was, he reached for the remote to turn down the volume. You were still shaking like a leaf, stare fixated on the bolded words rolling across the screen.

In an attempt to console you, Koushi gently moved a hand onto your shoulder, urging you to lean back into him. Your heart skipped a beat as he placed a kiss on the crown of your head, lingering there for a moment.

He spoke in a delicate whisper, just loud enough that it would drown out the automated announcer from the last broadcast to be had tonight. “...Shhh, you’re alright sweetheart.”

Unconsciously, you nodded with his affirmation, trying to convince yourself of the same thing.

Information continued to dance across the screen. You would have twelve hours, starting at 6 pm, which was in two minutes, to do whatever you needed to obtain your ideal outcome. So would those opposite of you in nature, which didn’t exactly help your chances of fighting for your freedom.

A myriad of other rules and such were listed, most of them being useless to you. It was more so meant for those of the bolder type. What weapons you could use, who you could injure, and how far you could take things.

You didn’t want to hurt anybody. You just wanted to go back to how things were before naively falling for Koushi’s trap―or at least that’s what you thought. The whole decision still felt a little cloudy in your mind, even now.

Abruptly, the television stopped it’s recount of the mandatory notice. The red returned to black, because for one, there was nothing more to and. And, because Koushi had turned off the TV, the resounding click bringing you back to reality.

Neither of you moved as the countrywide sirens rang out. The fixed speakers outside sounded off, letting everyone who wasn’t tuning into the news segment that finally, the purge had begun.

Your gaze remained fixed on the floor, feeling like it was taking an eternity for the roaring noises to cease. Eventually they did, leaving you and Koushi with the silence of the living room, the hushed sounds of a crackling fireplace being the only thing to meet your ears.

Naturally, he has to do everything for you. And, naturally, he doesn’t mind.

“C’mon, sweet girl.”

Carefully, so as not to scare you more than you already clearly were, Koushi pulled you off the couch. Not moving too quickly, he kept your hand held firmly in his as he led you to the front door.

You couldn’t remember the last time you got this close to the entrance. His various methods of reprimand doing wonders to keep you from drawing near it. Sometimes, even looking at the door was something you feared.

But now, here you were, standing right in front of it.

You followed Koushi’s movements, your hand falling at your side as he released it to begin undoing the excessive amount of locks.

Not excessive to him of course, anything to keep his perfect little girl safe.

The quiet beeping of the door’s alarm was the only thing to be heard aside from the noise of your heart beating in your chest, the sound reverberating in your skull. Then came the manual locks, Koushi’s hand reaching into his pocket to grab the keyring.

With each lock coming undone, your mindset continued to spiral.

You can’t do this. It’s too much to handle. You have no clue where to go, or where to hide.

And the comfort that he provides―you really do like it.

How he touches you, tender and lovingly, able to feel with every movement how much he cares for you. When he wraps you in his arms, that familiar and comforting smell that’s so undeniably Koushi sedating those thoughts at unease. He speaks to you, always saying the right things, so softly.

You realized that lately, there was nothing to worry about with him.

But you would lose all you earned the second you stepped out of his home.

Yet, as he finishes with the locks and turns back to you, it doesn’t feel like you’ll lose anything.

Not as in, once you leave, his presence will be gone, and that you’ll never have to experience it after you make it out of this night with your freedom.

Rather, once you fail, he’ll be waiting, ready to snuff out those pangs of anguish you’re feeling right now, just like he always does. That kind of comfort didn’t seem to be going anywhere.

The thought alone was enough to quell many of your concerns.

Koushi stepped towards you, his hands reaching for you, finding their destination in gingerly cupping your face. Nervously, your eyes flitted from his frame to the door’s handle.

The man in front of you sighed slightly, taking in the details of your expression. The furrow of your brows, how you had trouble focusing on any one thing while a plethora of thoughts raced through your mind.

He liked knowing how much this was bothering you. Showing that at the end of the day, you were more dependent on him than you realized.

Koushi was the first to speak, you tensing at the startling noise.

“I’m not forcing you to do this, sweetheart. You know you don’t have to go out there.”

He studied you intently, and you felt the urge to shrink from his focused gaze. It would be so easy to just stay home. To curl up with Koushi in front of the fireplace, relax into his arms as the night went by.

But as you looked back to the unlocked door once more, you knew that wasn’t an option.

“I do have to, I’m sorry…”

You didn’t know if you were apologizing to him, or to yourself.

Koushi smiled, a thumb momentarily caressing your cheekbone before pulling away.

“Well, then―I’ve got something for you.” His hand once again fished around in his pocket before pulling out the object in question.

Your eyes landed on it immediately―a burner phone.

It was simple, a black flip phone, old model and with little use aside from calls and texts that took far too long to type out on its inconvenient keyboard.

Koushi stood next to you, a hand resting on the small of your back as he flipped the device open. The artificial glow of the screen illuminated your face while he held it open for you to observe.

“My number is on speed dial, just press here―” he went through the motions slowly, letting you follow the steps he was taking, “―and you’ll be able to call whenever you need me.”

Slowly you nodded, amazed at the prospect of using an electronic, even an ancient one. You hadn’t touched a phone in so long.

Koushi slipped the device into the pocket of your dress, choosing to face you once again. This time he gripped your shoulders, giving them a firm squeeze to grab your attention. “If you can’t handle being out there, promise that you’ll call me.”

For the first time this night, you looked him in the eyes. Those full of compassion and care, you not knowing the feelings they hid from you.

“...I will, Koushi.”

A moment of silence lingered in between the two of you, and before you could make any first move, his lips were softly connecting with yours.

An action full of devotion, you had no choice but to melt into it. Because now, it no longer caused discomfort to eat away at your system, but the exact opposite.

When his lips parted from yours, instead of immediately letting go, Koushi pulled you into his embrace. His arms wrapped around your waist, your head settling into the crook of his neck.

You finally realized that there had been tears slipping down your cheeks this whole time.

His voice sent shivers down your spine, spoken against the shell of your ear. “I love you, so much…”

Your hands gripped his shirt tightly in response.

“...But, you won’t stand a chance out there.”

An odd choice of words, while although it did send an icy fear throughout your body, it still made you want to go out there and prove him wrong.

Whether or not he realized that fact was beyond you.

Koushi pulled away, not before pressing a final kiss on your cheek. His hand reached for the doorknob, turning, and swinging it open.

The cold air of the evening hit your body, the sun rapidly setting on the horizon. It brought about a new sense of coldness to go along with that which was stirred by your anxieties. Breaking your attention away from the outdoors that lay just a few feet away, Koushi voiced his plans.

“Alright, pretty girl. I’ll give you an hour as a head start, sound good?”

Silently, because you couldn’t form the words to make a response with an impossible lump in your throat, you nodded. But you still remained in place.

Waiting for his permission.

He smiled at your expectant behaviour.

Koushi waved a hand, gesturing to the outdoors. “...Go on, now.”

Hesitantly, still greatly unsure of your own decision, you did as he said. Feeling almost light, with your body seemingly moving on its own, you stepped through what, up until now, was a forbidden threshold.

The breeze in the air made your dress flow, the feeling of the forceful chill against the bare skin of your legs a foreign sensation after all this time. You could hear the sounds of crickets chirping in the grass, many living past the tree-line of the forest surrounding his home.

The sun was what you were least expecting.

Just barely managing to peek through the mostly overcast sky, its intense rays landed upon your skin. You could feel its heat, a warmth contrasting the fall temperatures. Tilting your head up slightly, you closed your eyes to bask in its natural gift.

But as soon as it came, the sensation was gone.

The sky fully clouded over, leaving you in the cold, and in a darkness threatening to grow worse as each second ticked by. Still battling an inner turmoil to go through with your wants, you turned around to face Koushi one last time.

Still at the front entrance, he was bathed in the inviting warm light coming from inside the house. He made no more moves to sway you in any which direction. Instead, he simply stood in the doorway, casually leaning against it with his hands in his pockets.

That’s when it dawned on you.

You were wasting time.

No wonder he was so calm. Letting you spend precious seconds getting nowhere.

Your eyes met his. Koushi gave you that signature smile that suddenly wasn’t so comforting.

And then, you were gone.

_____

Your heart was thudding loudly in your chest, desperate gulps of air entering and exiting your already exhausted system. Previous calculations on the few strengths you’d have going for you, and the many weaknesses holding you back were correct.

After less than two minutes of running, you already had to reduce yourself to a walking pace.

Your limbs felt increasingly strained at the sudden exertion, calves aching and lungs burning. Once you slowed down and your wits returned, you noticed the particularly painful sensation in your feet.

Koushi failed to give you proper shoes for the night's events, instead leaving you in your fairly thin lined slippers that now weren’t even good enough to keep out the chill.

Or perhaps, he did that on purpose?

Those facts didn’t quite matter at the moment. You had finally reached the edge of the city, making good time as you didn’t have the need to make it there under the cover of the forest. A quick glance at your burner phone would tell you that you still had fifteen minutes of free time, so there was no problem being out in the open as you took to the road to reach your destination.

The stretches of trees were replaced with encroaching buildings, starting out small and changing into impressive structures as you ventured further into the city.

Overall, it was quiet. Aside from a few stray pieces of litter blowing in the wind, there was nobody out on the streets aside from yourself. Really, many people didn’t have a reason to be out. Not everyone had someone to be running from, or oppositely, had someone to be running after. If you didn’t fall into either of those two categories, then you had no reason not to stay inside.

After all, getting in someone’s way could mean risking your life.

This constant and looming reality, that the only reason why you were out was because of these special circumstances―it didn’t exactly make you feel any better.

Even as you caught your breath, your heart remained beating rapidly inside your chest. Your feet stumbled awkwardly along the sidewalk, wincing with each shot of pain that ran up your legs.

You only paused when your eyes landed on red and bolded graffiti on the side of a boarded up shop.

“KNOW YOUR PLACE.”

However, you failed to understand what that was anymore.

The sudden noise of a shrill scream sounding from some indiscernible place brought you startlingly out of your focus on the graffiti. The noise bounced off of the brick walls of buildings around you. Your head whipped from side to side, trying to understand where it was coming from.

Only, it felt like the screams were all around you.

Your hands were clenched into tight fists, nails indenting crescent moons into the skin of your palms. The wails lasted for a mere five or so seconds, but it felt like minutes with how your distress was only amplifying your panicked reaction.

In that state of immense internal torment, you unable to think of any one decision for yourself, your body once again acted on it’s own. Fight or flight senses kicking in, favouring the latter, you bolted away from what you were most sure was the best direction away from the screaming.

Really it was all you could do. Staying in one spot, frozen with fear that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, wouldn’t do a single thing for you. Even if you didn’t know the exact destination of your travels, all you knew was that you had to put as much distance as possible between you and Koushi’s home.

So you ran, only to once again forget just how ill equipped you were.

The street lights went by in a blur, wind whipping past you. The first bead of sweat trickled down your face as you willed yourself to keep moving. Not even a minute in and you were slowing to a stop, leaning against the side of a building.

You could’ve passed out right then and there, with the weight of your exhaustion, and your weakening mindset crashing down on you. But if you stopped, you knew that you’d likely never be on the winning side of this night.

Still trying to catch your breath, you used this time to pull out your burner phone. Flipping the small device open, you winced at the bright and artificial glow that you were so unaccustomed to, especially in the darkening light of the evening.

Your eyes landed on the clock, front and center of the compact screen.

7:00 pm.

The head start was up.

_____

A quiet playing of jazz music lingered in the background of the kitchen, the pinks and oranges of a setting sun behind the clouds casting part of the room in a warm hue. Methodically, and humming to himself, Koushi was drying the dishes from the dinner he had with you, fondly recalling how breathtaking you looked in your new dress.

He took a quick glance at the clock after putting the last cleaned dish in the cupboard, making sure to lock the small door shut. The device mounted on the wall told him it was nearing quarter to eight.

Expectantly, his phone rang in his pocket, him not even needing to look at the caller ID before answering. Especially not when the voice on the other line spoke before he could even get a word out.

“You still need me for tonight?”

Koushi slung the cup towel over his shoulder, leaning against the granite countertop. “Daichi, I’d really appreciate the help if you’re still up for it. I understand if you can’t though―”

“You had my back last year, the least I can do is return the favour.”

Softly, Koushi laughed a little to himself, remembering how frustrated his friend was, unable to control his other half.

He nodded, gazing out the window as he spoke. “Well then, do you remember what I said or should we go through it again?”

On the other line, he heard some indistinct rustling, paying to mind to it. “That’s alright, I know how important this is to you. Couldn’t forget it even if I tried.”

That brought a chuckle out of both of them, Daichi continuing soon after.

“I’ll get going then, gotta handle a few things first.”

This time, Koushi could make out the distinct noise of a car trunk slamming shut. Meaning his friend was already on his way to set up.

“...Of course. Thanks again, by the way.”

He heard what sounded like keys jingling, “No problem, talk to you later.”

With that, Koushi ended the call. Phone still on, he was left to look at the last app he had open, the screen still giving him live information by the second. Satisfied with what he saw, he excited the tracking software, swiftly pocketing the phone.

Grabbing the still somewhat full wine glass on the countertop, Koushi made his way to the living room. Relaxing into the couch with a relieved sigh, he resigned himself to a waiting game, knowing it’d only be so long until he had you back, safe and wrapped in his arms.

Just where you should be.

_____

There weren’t many options: either hide in the shadows, and be at risk for unsuspected attacks, or remain in the safety of the street lights, exposed to any and all onlookers. Looking over your shoulder, not quite eyeing any one thing that meant certain danger, you chose the latter.

When the screams around you finally died down, fading into the background as you left it in the dust behind you, the sound of a distant rumbling came to the forefront. With a quick glance up, you could see that, even in the dimming light of the evening, the clouds above were growing thicker. Darkening and swirling in the sky, you knew that soon a storm would be upon you.

As the earthy aroma of approaching rain permeated your senses, your heart longed for the comfort back home. If it weren’t for that nearly indescribable need to keep moving away from Koushi, you’d be back there. Probably relaxing on the couch, a sedating melody coming from the record player. Another perfect Saturday night spent in your lovers presence.

You could practically feel the heat of the fireplace on your face if you focused hard enough.

However, that heat wasn’t coming from such a sanctuary, one who knows how many kilometers away by now. Rather, from the burning building in front of you.

Snapping out of that reminiscent trance, you came to an abrupt stop. Squinting a bit at the bright and flaming scene, you could just barely discern that the building was a police station.

The sight only brought a small quirk to your lips, knowing how useless they were to those like you.

Turning away from the building, you trained your goals on moving in the same direction, fearful of getting turned around and accidentally heading back towards home. Things once again fell into silence, only the sound of a looming and encroaching storm meeting your ears every ten minutes or so. Fatigue had set in long ago, leaving your steps sluggish, fighting every muscle in your body to keep up a consistent pace. Even if you weren’t moving fast, you were still moving.

Except, that too grew nearly impossible to reasonably manage.

The further you walked, the more disturbing sights you came upon. It seemed like all at once, things were hitting the fan. Corrupt scenes unfolding around you being horrifying to no ends.

Exiting an alleyway, the first thing you saw was a man stuffing a body into the trunk of a car. You couldn’t tell who the person was, or whether they were even alive. But those details weren’t remotely feasible, as the perpetrator caught you in his gaze.

Seeing your frozen stature, face riddled with fear, he only laughed to himself.

You were no threat to the claims of the night, so he dismissed you with ease. Leaving you in his wake as he drove off, you stayed put for an unknown amount of minutes.

The terrifying truth of what you were was unavoidable, and damn near immobilizing. Weak in everyone’s eyes, often your own included.

At some point you found the will to start moving again, only to soon pause for a breather. Mostly to ground yourself, you checked the time on your temporary phone.

It read just half past nine. In normal circumstances, you’d be in bed; or getting ready for bed, at the least. As a few droplets began falling from the now pitch black sky, you longed for safety under the covers of your bed. Bundled in soft blankets, a dry nightgown, and the soothingly mellow voice of Koushi next to you. Every night, without fail, he’d always remind you of how much he loved you, helping you fall fast asleep under the calmness he provided.

A shiver wracked your body, heart aching for his safety. Your finger hovered over the call button, one movement away from being scooped up by your saviour.

Your body was jolted out of the thought before you could bother with such a surrender.

Someone―a young girl, maybe in her early twenties, desperately clutched the sleeves of your dress. She looked up at you, expression riddled with a bone chilling dread. “Please help me! He’s...he’s trying to―”

Yet, just as she was about to finish, another set of hands painfully grasped your shoulders. A split second later and you were being thrown into the side of a building.

A man was yelling at you, quite loudly at that. Or maybe he was yelling at the girl―with the way you were sobbing, panic shutting down your better senses, it was too hard to tell. You couldn’t quite hear any one thing, the world falling into silence as the anxieties resting in your system spiked violently.

Your brain didn’t even register that you had bolted into a sprint. Not until, sheerly because your body couldn’t handle taking another step until you gave it at least a little break, you stopped, almost falling to your knees with how drained you were. Barely, you managed to keep yourself upright by leaning against a lamp post.

In that moment, there was only one thing going through your mind.

You wanted to go home.

Koushi’s home, which just as much belonged to you as it did him. That’s where you were meant to be. Not out here, by yourself in the middle of the night, rain coming down around you. Even if it was light, the slight dampness in your clothing had you convulsing in cold bodied trembles.

The phone was still clutched tightly in your hand. You knew what you needed to do.

And as the noise of gunshots rang out in the direction you came from, your plans shifted to do just that.

Shaken to your core, you shuffled into an alleyway. Seeking the refuge of a shelter to make that fated call, you blindly ventured deeper into the narrow passage. The saving grace that were streetlamp lights disappeared behind you, remnants of its glow doing little to help you see where you were going.

Doing nothing to help you see the trap you were walking directly into.

All at once, your knees buckled under you, a net you had stepped into lurching upwards. A shriek escaped your being as the intertwined rope cased around you, hoisting you into the air. Suspended only five five or so feet off the ground, the height wasn’t what sent terror coursing through your veins.

It was the fact that you were trapped, no amount of struggling enough to free you. And, because your phone had slipped out of your hand, through the holes of the net, and onto the pavement beneath you.

Out of reach, leaving you helpless to the whims of your sudden captor.

Just like that, the repeated calling for your lover spilled from your lips. Petrified in every sense, you wailed for Koushi to come and save you. Pleading cries for help were repeated until your throat grew hoarse. You only stopped when you physically couldn’t catch your breath.

But even that ceased as well, when a tall figure came into view.

You blearily wiped away the wetness pooling in your eyes, body uncomfortably folded by the sinch of the net as what looked to be a man stalked towards you.

“...Little things like you really shouldn’t be out on a night like this.”

As he drew closer, you could make out the short cut of his hazelnut hair, chiseled features, a broad frame shielded from the downpour by a waterproof jacket. Slowly, the stranger leaned down, picking up your fallen burner phone.

A small whimper escaped you, “Please…”

The deep baritone of his voice shook you as he spoke, “What, looking for this?” Mockingly, he waved the flimsy device back and forth, just out of arm's reach from you. He lowly chuckled to himself at the severely distraught look you gave him, and at the lifeline that was your phone.

The phone that, taking it in both hands, he snapped in half with ease.

Eyes blown wide, you watched in silent horror as the man tossed the unusable device aside, the noise of it clattering to the ground bouncing off the walls of the alleyway. Before you could even register what had happened, what was going to happen, the man was right in front of you.

You couldn’t even think of what to do or say as his hand reached through an opening in the net, harshly gripping your jaw and forcing you to face him.

His lips were pulled into a small and menacing grin, unspoken notions of his intentions laced into the way he regarded you as prey. A quiet hum resonated from him, scanning your features intently. Not before turning your head to the side ever so slightly, seemingly confirming what he already knew, he spoke up once again.

“...No wonder he loves you.”

The glint of a pocket knife flashed before your eyes, and a second later you were crashing to the ground. With the ropes holding you up now severed, the net fell down around you. As soon as you could stretch out your limbs, you were mindlessly scrambling away.

Your better intuitions were completely clouded over, escape once again being the only thing your body could try to achieve.

“Stop fucking struggling.” The words met your ears as an iron grasp wrapped around your ankle, roughly dragging you back to that spot a few feet away from your position, where you’d only just crawled from.

The assailant flipped you onto your back, “What the hell are you gonna do anyways? You’re not made to fight people like me off.” Strangled sobs left your system as he settled in between your legs, his hand gripping your throat. “I could snap your bones like a fucking twig, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it.”

You attempted to sputter out a response, anything to deter the man who was unashamedly handling your much weaker body. Yet, the second your lips parted, a sharp sting bled across your cheek.

“What a dumb little girl you are―dumb enough to walk right into an obvious trap.”

As the glint of a blade returned, you could do nothing but lay there as the sharp edge ripped through the fabric of your dress. The front of it fell open, leaving your bare chest exposed to his eyes, save for the bra being the only thing to defend you.

You didn’t see the knife disappear, only knowing it had gone somewhere when his now free hand groped your breast.

“I mean, what the fuck did you think was going to happen coming out tonight?” The man above you laughed to himself, knowing you were too scared out of your mind to respond.

Meaning his orders were playing out as expected.

The grip on your throat tightened, leading you to space out as he continued the one sided and condescending conversation. “I bet you could’ve avoided this too. Poor thing―too stupid to get out of her own way.”

The pleading request repeated over and over in your mind, but you couldn’t force yourself to speak it. As another smack collided with your cheek, hearing going out in the ear that was affected by the force, those spiralling thoughts got worse, a nauseating feeling rolling in your stomach.

Pleasepleaseplease just stop.

All you wanted was to go home. You should’ve never left. You should’ve never tried to leave Koushi.

Why would you ever want to do that?

Finding yourself growing lightheaded, unable to take in enough oxygen to keep yourself conscious, you felt something inside of you disappear.

If you could describe it, the sensation would be like a sudden dislodge. Relieving, a weight on your body, one that wasn’t caused by a man pressing into you, vanishing entirely.

You still didn’t feel calm, system remaining corrupted with a near crushing fright in your drifting state. But whatever familiar sense of trepidation you once suffered from was now gone.

Hands falling limp at your sides, exhaustion finally getting the better of you as you no longer had it in you to fight off the stranger choking you out, your eyelids fluttered shut. You didn’t want to stop struggling, to give up against this seemingly unstoppable force, but you didn’t have much choice, did you?

Only, a violent and haggard fit of coughs spewed from you as the suffocating force pinning you down disappeared.

Breath quick, your intake and outtake of much needed air stuttering, you heaved weakly against the wet pavement. The first thing that flooded your senses was the patter of the rain hitting the ground around you. Then, it was the feeling of that rain landing on the skin of your face. Cold and cooling, easing the burning ache of your cheeks that had been repeatedly battered just moments ago.

As your eyes closed to bask in the relieving sensation, the droplets against you left, yet still the sound of rain falling down around you remained.

Upon opening your eyes, a swell of emotions ran over you. Tufts of grey hair hung above you, a deeply worried expression of the man you loved regarding your worn out and still shaking form.

“...K-Koushi?”

If it weren’t for the rain, both of you would know full well that the water streaming down your face wasn’t from the night’s downpour. But the hitch in your voice, the tremble in your lower lip―both served as clear displays of the anguish you experienced.

His hands cupped your face, gentle as always, especially now so as not to put pressure on the tender skin. Even with the commotion of the storm beating down around the two of you, his voice was as clear as day.

“I’m right here, pretty girl.”

_____

The silence that the sanctuary of Koushi’s home, your home, brought about was like balm to your oversensitive state. It wasn’t a deafening silence, per se. Because here and there, it still carried symphonies of the outside world, while the world right at your fingertips brought ones of safety inside such sturdy walls. Whether it be the muffled noises of overhead thunder, or the soothing sounds of rippling water as your fingers danced mindlessly underneath its surface.

The heat of the freshly drawn bath was doing wonders for your strained muscles, now feeling limp in Koushi’s arms as he held you from behind. With a deep sigh, lungs still burning from previous exertion, you leaned into him. It was easy to melt into the secondary warmth he provided, your partially bruised back pressing into his chest.

With the night’s activities washed from your bodies, you needed only to bask in the presence of the man you once feared you lost. The shift from one extreme to another, immobilizing terror to heart wrenching relief―nothing had ever made your head spin faster.

Now, while you let the humidity of the bathroom seep into your skin, the sweet scent of body wash meeting your senses, the invisible weight of guilt remained burning. Your eyebrows stayed knitted, a look of worry that Koushi couldn’t see.

But little did you know, he knew it’s what you felt. He knew everything about you, right down to the last little detail. So he wasn’t surprised in the slightest when your meek voice broke through the silence, spoken in a volume just barely above a whisper, purely because your vocal cords were shot from when he heard you calling for him only an hour ago.

“...I really am sorry, Koushi.”

He wrapped his arms around you tighter, thumb running back and forth against the bare skin of your arm. “If you’re sorry, then you’ll let me take care of you. No more messing around.”

...

It’s not that you didn’t want to let Koushi do as he pleased, it was that you didn’t know why he wished to do it in the first place. Even after all the time he’d spent devoted to tending to your every last need, the reasons as to why he did so could never quite stick.

You never asked him for any of this. He just assumed the role of your caretaker without batting an eye. It was obvious he cared about you, but still you had issues accepting his motivation for it.

Letting out a shaky breath, you spoke once again. “I just...I don’t understand why you want to so badly. It doesn’t make any sense, and―”

“I do it because I’m in love with you, isn’t it obvious?”

The playfulness in his questioning tone didn’t go unnoticed, but it still didn’t exactly calm all of your anxieties. At least, not until he continued with his speech, his actions following up with affirmations.

Your head rested against his shoulder as his hands wandered, mapping out the sensitivities of your body, starting where they rested near your chest.

“I have been since the moment I laid eyes on you, sweetheart…”

When his hands found purchase on your waist, tenderly squeezing the plush skin, you harshly sucked in a breath of air. He kneaded the tense muscles of your body, speaking low, but still sending shivers down your spine at it’s proximity.

“All of your little quirks, your gentleness, how delicate you are...You’re so impossibly perfect.”

Pausing, Koushi pressed a light kiss against your temple, “...Of course I want to take care of you.”

With each word spoken, every syllable filled with innate devotion, your mind of worrying thoughts surrendered to him. Not given much choice in the matter, and not wanting to choose any alternative if there was one, you let his admiration slowly consume you whole.

“I wanna make sure nobody can hurt you, make sure you get what you deserve…”

Koushi’s hands drifted lower, deft fingers lightly trailing your body, teasing touches only serving to stir another type of heat inside you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him cup your heat, middle finger gently pressing in between your folds.

“...And, that you get what you need.”

You softly whimpered as the pads of his fingers came into contact with your clit, the exhaustion you felt amplifying your sensitive nerves. Applying just the right amount of pressure, and in the perfect spot that had you yearning for more, Koushi skilfully circled the puffy nub.

He smiled to himself as you weakly squirmed in his hold, knowing that in your state, this was the finishing touch to his game. One that he’d been playing since the day he met you, and that now was about to reach its end. Where he’d finally have you right where he wanted you, and you’d both be happy for a long time to come.

Removing the pressure from his ministrations, he bowed his head so that his lips were just ghosting the shell of your ear.

“Tell me what you need, pretty girl.”

Tears pricking in your eyes at the carnal desire you felt from even the slightest of touches, you found yourself near immediately calling for him, begging for his help without a hint of recollection from the memory that held resemblance.

“Please Koushi...I need you.”

With those small and desperate pleas, Koushi found that there was nothing he wanted to hear more in that moment. The desperation laced in your tone was the sweetest thing he’d ever listened to, and so he vowed to himself that he’d make you repeat those wanton admissions time and time again. As often as he needed them, and as often as you needed him. Which would be in your every waking second from now on, finally.

He couldn’t help but encourage you even more, the sound of your whimpers as his fingers worked you over being the most addictive drug.

“That’s it...I’ll give you everything you need. All you have to do is let me―you can do that, right?”

Only wanting to please him more, full body acceptance gripping your being, you responded by quickly nodding, incoherent words escaping you without thought.

Koushi could only laugh at your reaction, adorable in every sense. But, he wanted to hear you say it, ever the demanding one, and always wanting you to play by his rules.

Knowing you were teetering on the edge of release, his fingers slowed their pace, relenting to an achingly teasing method of feathered touches. He spoke one last question, something to finalize his long maintained agenda, goals set on crystallizing your reality for the both of you.

“Promise that you’ll let me care for you, no matter what.”

At his question, the only thing more powerful than the feelings burning inside of you from his sinfully skilled movements was how you felt about him.

The way he made you feel safe, even on the darkest of nights. How he wrapped you in an embrace that would snuff out the flames of self-doubt without fail, each and every time. He never missed a single thing about you, from the obvious outward traits, to the hidden emotions that suddenly didn’t seem like things you needed to conceal―not with him.

There wasn’t a single think about Koushi that you could bring yourself to hate.

Because right then, you loved him, just as much as he loved you.

Koushi felt like home. He was your home.

A home you never had until now. And one you never wanted to leave.

Resigning yourself to him completely, leaving not a single thing that would keep you from submitting to his passion, you held nothing back. Forever and always, you would give yourself up to him, content at the knowledge that you hadn’t a thing to fret over so as long as you were with him

“...I promise.”

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neopoliitan · 4 years

Text

Neo - The Little Match Girl?

So you may be familiar with my theory that Neo alludes to Tinker Bell. I’m now here to offer an alternative, based on a suggestion on the Team RAIN discord by @ahotcuppajo from about a year ago - that Neo alludes to the Little Match Girl.

A story by Hans Christian Andersen, “The Little Match Girl” is a fairytale about a poor young girl who desperately tries to sell matches on the street. Too scared to go home a father who will beat her if she doesn’t sell enough, she hides and lights the matches to keep warm.

In the fire she sees visions that make her happy, eventually seeing her deceased grandmother. She lights all the matches to maintain that vision, and eventually the fire burns out and she dies to the cold.

Her body is discovered the following day by passers by, who feel pity for her, but are unaware of the visions she saw or that she is happy in heaven with her grandmother.

As fairytales go, this is a very depressing one. A young, poverty-stricken girl dies in the cold without any solace. But let’s read between the lines here, as a lot of them tie back to Neo.

Let’s go sentence by sentence and see what we can confirm Neo represents in the story. For starters, the Little Match Girl was poor and forced to sell matches for a living. Let’s dive into Neo’s theme song, “One Thing”, for her origins:

I was nowhere / I had no one / I felt nothing / Lost without a voice and on my own

Much like LMG (Little Match Girl), Neo had no home, no one who cared about her - and ‘felt nothing’. She was numb emotionally, and at a push maybe even physically due to cold like in the fairy tale. We can extrapolate from here that Neo presumably had an awful home life and family - if she had one at all.

Then we come to the lynchpin of both characters’ stories - the fire. LMG is kept warm by the fire and Neo, well, need I say more than “Roman Torchwick”? Her theme connects Roman even closer to a fire motif by referring to him as a “Candle’s Flame” who “Brought a brand new name”.

And then, of course, there’s the visions. In the story, LMG seeks comfort in the images she sees in the fire. Meanwhile, Neo’s semblance is literally to conjure illusions and visions. If she’s had her semblance a long time, she may also have conjured visions to comfort herself. Either way, her semblance is easily reflective of LMG’s visions.

Next we come to the dark part. LMG’s behaviour becomes very one-track-mind and self-destructive when she burns all her matches to keep the comforting visions alive. Compare this to post-Beacon, where Neo is focused solely on revenge for Roman’s death. Her appearance in Volume 6, when under no illusions, shows how she’s disregarded taking care of herself and her outfit has become scruffy and torn - she’s becoming self destructive just like LMG did in the story.

The end of the story can go one of two ways. Much like LMG, Neo could burn herself out and die, reuniting herself with Roman in death and finding happiness there like LMG did with her grandmother. Alternatively, we might be seeing one of RWBY’s classic “Fairytale, but” scenarios where there’s a twist in the tale;

Cinderella if the fairy godmother was a sinister helping hand. Hansel if he lost Gretel. Watson if he sided with Moriarty over Holmes.

Perhaps, unlike LMG, there’s an outcome for Neo where she doesn’t lose her way and die frozen and forgotten in the cold. Cinder’s flames definitely aren’t looking as comforting to her as Roman’s did.

Only time will tell.

#rwby #rwby theory #neopolitan #neopolitan rwby #rwby neo #rwby neopolitan #Neo Politan #rwby headcanon #rwby analysis #rwby volume 8 #rwby8

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firefly464 · 4 years

Text

The Real World - Chapter 11

Ok so this ones a bit more of a slightly slower chapter and kinda does a bit more world building sooooo yeah. BUT ALSO THERES SOME WHOLESOME FRIENDSHIP MOMENTS SO THATS GOOD

Made in collaboration with @i-have-this-now Thank you to @rivys for beta reading and editing!

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

~~~

Silence. Complete and total silence fell over the call as both Tubbo and Wilbur tried to process what Tommy was saying. The moment was tense, and loaded with unanswered questions.

“Fuck…” Wilbur muttered. He didn’t know what else to say. He was in a state of shock. What was he supposed to do? He had just learned that two of his friends were trapped in another dimension, and that said dimension was going to be destroyed because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Yeah. I feel like that sums it up pretty well.” Tommy had no idea what he was supposed to be doing, or even feeling. There were so many emotions raging through his mind. Anger at Wilbur for talking to Dream. Relief that Tubbo and Wilbur weren’t screaming at him. Fear that his home was going to be destroyed.

God, he was sick of being afraid. He had felt nothing but fear and terror for a week straight, and thought that he had grown numb to it. He had thought wrong. The raw terror that coursed through his veins in that moment was nothing like he had ever felt before. It was cold and numbing. It made him want to just crawl into his bed and lay there. He felt completely and unbelievably hopeless. At least during the war there had been a small sliver of hope. A tiny beacon of light in all the darkness. It had been what kept him going. Now, there was nothing. He had no way of fighting back. No way of even contacting his friends and seeing if they were safe. He hated it.

“So. What’s the plan?” Tubbo’s voice shook Tommy from his intrusive thoughts. He couldn’t help but feel grateful for Tubbo’s optimism, despite the fact that he knew it was hopeless. “How are we gonna stop him?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“We’re not just going to let him kill all those people, right? There's gotta be something we can do. Some way that we can stop him.”

“Tubbo, I-” “No, he’s right.” Will interjected. “We aren’t just going to sit around and do nothing. Besides, if what you said is true, then our Tommy and Dream are stuck there as well. We’re not just going to let them die.”

“You guys don’t get it, do you…?” Tommy muttered. He knew his friends were trying their best, but the hopelessness of the situation was suffocating. It was like he was standing in a pool of quicksand, slowly being dragged down. Each time he struggled and tried to resist, he was only dragged down farther. He was tired of fighting it. “You can’t stop him. We don’t even know where he is.” Tubbo was silent for a moment. “What if we switched you guys back? We could figure out the command that swapped you in the first place and just run it again.”

“I mean, you can try. But wouldn’t you need Dream’s computer?”

A sly grin spread across Tubbo’s face. “Who says I need access to his computer to access the server? Just give me a few minutes.” The sound of typing echoed through Tommy’s headphones.

He frowned, confused as to what was going on. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to access the server.” He didn’t offer any more information.

“While he’s doing that, maybe you could tell us more about what happened to you. How did you even end up involved with Dream? From the sounds of it, he's fucking terrifying,” Wilbur asked. He figured that the more they knew about what was going on, the easier it would be to try and solve their issue.

“I… He used to disappear for really long periods of time. Eventually I got curious. I saw him leaving and tried to follow. He caught me pretty quickly. He… he said that he would kill everyone in L’Manberg if I didn’t go with him and do what he said.”

Wilbur’s eyes narrowed. That didn’t make any sense. Why on earth would Dream force Tommy to go with him if he hadn’t gone far? Something wasn’t adding up. “What-”

“I’M IN!” Tubbo yelled out, cutting off Will’s question.

“You’re in?” Tommy asked.

“I have access to the server.” Tubbo explained. “Maybe I can try and contact them.”

“Wait, what do you mean you have access to the server?” Wilbur said.

“I have the console open, wait- here.” Tubbo started sharing his screen on Discord.

A black background filled with white text that neither Wilbur nor Tommy could understand appeared on the screen. It was filled with coordinates and commands that were constantly being updated every couple of seconds. A waterfall of white text was filling Tubbo’s screen. He could see a grayed out command that read ‘/msg TommyInnit hello?’.

“Hey, wait a second,” Wilbur said. “Tubbo’s commands aren’t working.”

“Do you think it could be some sort of activation key?” Tommy asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

“...Exactly. How did you know?” Tubbo asked.

“I think I may know where that is.”

~~~

“What the fuck?” Tommy held the wooden bow in his hands, staring at the blinking light. “Have either of you ever seen this kinda thing before?”

“Why the hell would I know anything? I’ve been here as long as you have,” Dream remarked as he took another drink from the glass bottle.

“I dunno, maybe because you’re the server owner?”

“Just because I’m the server owner doesn’t mean I know what's happening.”

“Well, maybe you should.”

Dream only rolled his eyes. Tubbo squirmed a bit. Seeing Dream acting so casual was… unnerving. The lack of a mask only made it ten times worse. Until an hour ago, he had never even seen the man’s face. It was always just the blank mask, cold and emotionless. Seeing the raw emotions on his face was somehow scarier than not seeing them at all. A shudder ran down his spine.

“Tubbo? Any ideas?”

Tubbo jumped slightly, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Huh? O-oh! No, I don’t know. Sorry man, I’ve never seen anything like this before.”

A sigh escaped him as he ran a hand over the leather wrapped grip. The blinking light stared up at him, almost taunting him in a way. That was when he felt it. A small raised section of the grip, right where his finger would sit if he were holding it normally. He frowned. “what the fuck?”

“What? What is it?” Dream asked quickly.

“I dunno. It’s just a weird bump…”

“Oh. That's it? It's probably just from the other Tommy making his bow wrong or something.”

Tubbo shook his head, quick to defend his best friend. “No… Tommy was really good at making weapons. He wouldn’t have done something like that. It’s not like him.”

Tommy’s brow furrowed as he ran his finger over the strange button. On a whim, he pressed down.

A scream was torn from his throat as a robotic voice played in his ears. “Hello?” it said.

“What the fuck?!”

“Tommy?! Tommy are you ok?! What happened?!” Tubbo was instantly on his feet, trying to check on his friend. His instincts kicked in. Everything that had kept him and his friends alive during the war came rushing back to him as he frantically checked Tommy for any wounds or injuries. Nothing. No visible cuts or bruises. Maybe it was mental? Or a type of potion. Or maybe even-

“Tubbo, Tubbo! I’m fine! I promise. Just a bit startled.” Tommy’s voice brought his train of thought to an abrupt halt. Tubbo sat back down, his face burning with shame.

Dream stared at them in concern. “What happened?”

“Did you not hear it?” he furrowed his brow, trying to put the pieces together.

“Hear what?”

“That weird voice thingy. I pressed the little button and the robot lady started talking.”

“You’re hearing voices now? Are you alright?”

“Yes, Dream! I’m fine!” he cried out in exasperation. The blinking light on the grip of the bow had gone dark, leaving nothing but a regular wooden bow.

~~~

“How do you even know that they’re in your world?” Wilbur asked. Tubbo had already set the command in the server, and now the three of them were just waiting for some sort of results. Now, they were all just sitting around, trying to get more answers out of Tommy. “I mean, for all we know they could be floating out in the empty void of nothing.”

“No, I’m sure that your Tommy and Dream are in my world. Dream seemed really confident about it. He said something about it already being tested or whatever.

“Tested? Tested on what?”

“I don’t know. He never told me. All he said was that the test had worked.”

“Alright, I’m just gonna be the one to say it, thats sketchy as fuck.” Tommy couldn’t help but jump. Tubbo had been so quiet while they were talking, he had forgotten that he was even there. “I mean, I get that he’s a sketchy guy, but that's just weird.”

Tommy took a deep breath to try and calm his racing heart. “Yeah… It really is. I learned pretty quickly not to question him though. He was fucking terifying whenever he got asked too many questions.” A shudder ran down his spine as he remembered the blank, emotionless mask. God, he hated that fucking mask. Every night, he was plagued with nightmares about it.

“Tubbo, I think your command went through” Wilbur said, his voice cutting through the fog that was starting to build in Tommy’s mind. He looked at the screen. Sure enough, the grayed out text was now gone, replaced with a blank text box.

“Someone must have found the trigger. Hopefully it was your Tommy and Dream. I’m not sure what would happen if someone else managed to get their hands on it.”

“Either way, it should have only sent the message to Tommy, right?” Tubbo asked.

“I don’t fucking know. I wasn’t allowed anywhere near the console.”

“Probably because you’re a little gremlin child.” Will couldn’t help but make the snide comment. Maybe he just wanted to pretend, if only for a moment that nothing had changed. Maybe he was searching for a way to lighten the mood. He wasn’t sure.

Either way, the comment earned him a cry of protest. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?!”

“It means that you are a little gremlin boy. What else would it mean?” Despite his best attempts, he couldn’t quite keep the smile out of his voice.

“Alright, you son of a bitch, you listen here. I could beat your fucking ass in a fight, no questions asked.” Despite the harsh words, Tommy couldn’t help but grin. The friendly banter was familiar to him, and he couldn’t help but be thankful for it. In a world where everything was strange and foreign, it felt nice to have something that stayed consistent.

“Oh yeah? Prove it”

“Alright. Next time I see you, how about we 1v1? Me versus you.” “Uh, I don’t think that's a really good idea,” Tubbo interjected.

“What? Why not? I’ve beaten him before, I’ll do it again.” Tommy’s voice was dripping with confidence. He may not have been nearly as strong here as he was back in his home world, but he still knew how to fight. Not to mention, he had spent most of the past week trying to get his strength back.

“I don’t doubt it, it’s just that fighting someone is generally considered not good here”

“Are you serious? That's so lame! Back at home we used to spar all the time!”

“Yeah, not here. Unless you’re in a fighting style sport, sparring just isn’t something that you do here”

“Ughhhh, that’s so dumb.” he grumbled.

“So, uh, what’s the plan now?” Tubbo asked. On the screen, another /msg command was pulled up, ready to be sent. The message section itself was blank, but it was clear that Tubbo was itching to try and communicate with his best friend.

“We just input the command, right? We swap you back, you guys could go home, and we get our Tommy and Dream back. Boom, problem solved.” Wilbur couldn’t help but feel slightly confused. Hadn’t that been the plan from the start?

“I uh… I don’t know the command that he used,” Tommy admitted.

“Fuck.” The three sat in silence, trying to figure out what to do. Tommy couldn’t help but feel like hopelessness starting to drag him down again, pulling him down into the pit of quicksand.

“What if we brought them to the console? That way they could actually respond and we might be able to come up with some sort of plan?” Tubbo suggested.

He weighed his options. On one hand, it was the best bet they had. Hell, he was about 99 percent sure that Dream would have left some sort of clue as to what the command was, if only because he enjoyed the thrill of the danger. On the other, who knew what kind of trap Dream had set up. Knowing him, he would have expected them to do exactly this. No. No he couldn’t think like that. This was their one chance. It was his only chance at saving his home, at saving his friends.

Swallowing his fear, he nodded. “Yeah. Alright, that sounds good.”

~~~

“What the fuck?! Why is it blinking again?!” The small red light was back, blinking up at the blonde teenager annoyingly.

“Press the button again?” Dream offered helpfully.

“What? No! I’m not pressing that fucking button again! You press it if you’re so curious!” he tossed the bow onto the table carelessly, the loud noise making Tubbo flinch.

Dream grabbed the weapon and looked over it. “Alright, maybe I will. Where did you say it was?”

“On the grip, right next to the little light. It's really small though, you have to feel it.”

“Got it!” with a soft click, Dream pressed down on the button.

Instantly, the robotic voice echoed through Tommy’s mind once more. The voice was cold and metallic, with no emotion whatsoever. It reminded Tommy of pretty much every computer generated voice he had ever heard, only this time, it echoed through his skull. He could feel his teeth vibrating from the sheer volume of it. His eyes shook, causing the world to vibrate and jitter. It reminded him of when the bell had been rung, only this time he was the only one could hear it.

“Hey Tommy, it's Tubbo. This other Tommy just told me and Wilbur everything that’s been going on. Don’t worry, we’re gonna get you out of there, alright? Apparently the other Dream is going to really fuck everything up if we don’t stop him. And by that I mean he’s going to delete the server and most likely kill all of you and I really don’t want that to happen. So we’re gonna stop it!”

The voice continued for a bit, explaining what the plan was and where he and Dream needed to go, and Tommy did his best to keep track of Tubbo’s directions. “... Anyways, we really miss you man. I swear, we’re gonna figure something out and get you guys home. Yours truly, big T.” The voice stopped, and Tommy blinked. Tears pricked at his eyes.

He didn’t really understand what was going on, but he did understand one thing: there was hope. He might be able to go home. Tubbo and Wilbur were going to bring them home.

~~~

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

#if you cant tell i wrote this over two days #and i forgot what i wrote #so theres a bit of repetition #but whatever its fine #its still fun #wilbur soot #wilbursoot #tubbo_#Tubbolive #dreamwastaken #mcyt #mcyt au #The Real World #The Real World AU #my writing #dream team #dream smp #fanfiction #tommyinnit

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themechaneer · 3 years

Text

So this one’s been on my mind to crank out for a long time but I feel like I never really had the words until @trcstfunded and I got to talking one night about our lads and how they grew up so different and words just happened. This one is basically gonna be me copy and pasting some of that from discord while supplementing it with some other thoughts. ANYWAYS——— Why Joel’s element personality wise and aesthetically speaking is FIRE. The ramble edition.

I think the reason I most wanna get this down somewhere is because I know the stereotypes surrounding this element personality wise and they do not at all match up with the picture I’ve painted you all of Joel so far. And without living in my head and being there for the journey of arriving at this decision for him I do think it’s only fair I explain myself a little.

EXCERPT FROM A DISCORD CONVO WITH AMBER

( I mean— the element I attach to Joel is🔥. Makes sense. Generally speaking Joel’s a cozy hearth that always welcomes people closer to curl up near and warm themselves with. But he can also act as a beacon for those lost as a source of stability and consistency or a campfire when the night grows dark and you need a light and something warm to get you through it. And at his ‘worst’ or when he’s been pushed too far and well past the point of gentle, hellfire ._. [3:27 AM] Takes a LOT to get him to that last place though. And he works HARD at being that way. )

What you have to always remember about Joel is that while patient, warm, kind, and sensitive, this isn’t Joel’s natural way of being. He was raised to be this way from a very young age and has been working hard at being so since childhood. He wasn’t always as polished or practiced at being patient with others and how they feel as he is in his main verses. Find him in his twenties, he’s a little more on the arrogant side, a little cockier, a little less careful with his words, less guarded with showing people exactly how he feels over simply telling them. Find him even younger, prone to frustration at himself, at the how overwhelming his own emotions are without the addition of the emotions of others constantly triggering or amplifying them through his empathy and his inability to simply ignore them.

Yes, fire can be frightening, temperamental, destructive even when it’s not kept in check and carefully tended to. So can Joel. The only reason he isn’t a force that leans into the more violent aspects associated with fire is because he’s been working hard against those parts of himself since he was a boy, and without the guidance he had from his parents, the lessons and inspiration he gained from his brother growing up, without the supports he needed, he probably would have failed and the Joel you know would be a very different sort of person.

Fire can be violent. Some of the worst tragedies in history are associated with fire that couldn’t be controlled or contained. But they can also be a source of comfort, warmth, and light. Joel is capable of all this and it’s just the luck of those close to him he is not a man that takes any sort of pleasure in destroying things. Even if trying to avoid such damage can mean drowning out himself, how he feels in favor of protecting others. It’s why the only people who truly know Joel are the very few he ever lets see both sides of him. That he trusts can’t only handle him unfiltered, uncontained, honest—–, but can accept this part of him as well, the parts he tries to drown for everyone else.

What do I do when I want to Be as close as I can get to you? If I set you on fire Will you keep me warm? Can you promise me you won’t burn?

Joel Valor F o r g e s

Anyone who has played Death Stranding knows that names of characters can often indicate something significant about them be it backstory or skillset. Joel is no exception. I’ve talked about the importance of his last name before, and you can find that headcanon post HERE. I won’t rehash that entire post but I will reiterate that his last name as a word means 1. To make or shape with fire. 2. To create. In all the good work he does be it repurposing or reforging something for someone or creating something new, Joel’s favorite method & medium to use has always been fire. Fire is not something that should be played with, but try and tell him that. ;)

Lastly—–,

“ Man once said the first tools ever made were ropes and sticks. Sticks to keep all the bad shit away…, and ropes to keep everything good nice and close. ” - Higgs Monaghan, @goldenmasked

They may have been the first sure. But history will tell you the most celebrated tool of mankind, the game changer, was f i r e. For the acquisition of fire brought the ability to create & destroy. It gave humanity warmth, it gave them light, the ability to cook food that’d been inedible before, a last resort to seal a life-ending wound wen no other way works, a way of traveling forward no matter how dark things became. If some of this doesn’t sound at least somewhat symbolic of Joel IDK what to tell you guys lmao. I know at a glance equating him to this element & aesthetic doesn’t make a ton of sense. But I hope now that I’ve done my very best if not wordiest to explain how I see things, you can see it to?

#this is actually an older headcanon that I'm finally getting around to editing and updating #but if any of you have headcanon for your muses for this I'd love to hear them #‟ let’s tell the truth just for once ” || headcanons

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cosmokyrin · 4 years

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Hello there! I absolutely adore your Nuts'N Dolts art and how you portray them! If you don't mind me asking as a fellow fan, what is it you like/enjoy about the ship or thier characters in general?

First and foremost omg thank you so much!! ; A ; I’m glad you enjoy it. I just love them waaaaaay too much rn

For your question though, my brain automatically latched to answer this with a......... LONG POST

sorry i just have so many jsdjfsjfjs feelings for Nuts and Dolts right now, that I’m probably gonna ramble and be incomprehensible as fuck

this is something I’ve said over Discord servers though so bear with me

TL;DR if you don’t wanna check under the cut: Penny and Ruby are highly independent and are in the best positions to understand the struggles of one another. They share similar burdens, both are givers who forget themselves in the process, but they mutually support and love one another (whether as friends or more) which sort of replenishes their self-love and intensifies their relationship. Also I didn’t include, but they’re fucking wholesome and cute upfront.

I just really find their relationship so perfect. I mean, I’ve never seen such a pair that fits just damn right. It may be that I’m also a friends-to-lovers trope trash, but honestly it’s just that, when you look at the whole story, there’s so much backing for their relationship whether you like them platonic or romantic.

I took very long to actually ship Nuts and Dolts because they really gave off platonic vibes in the beginning, like the “I’ll support you as my best friend” vibes all the way. (Though I have to admit, looking back at the V3 talk between Penny and Ruby (after Penny vs CRDL fight), that seems to imply something else now lol) And also I personally haven’t found their differences in V1-V3, that is, until, RWBY Chibi (yes, the Fireflies episode lmfao). Then it was accentuated by V7. Suddenly Ruby and Penny’s mannerisms are far from each other. Idk how to explain it, but it’s there. They’re similar in many ways (both give me introverted vibes, both are thoughtful), but diverge in several ways, too (Ruby is more suppressed with emotion and Penny is more open about it). If these two were going to talk more about the same issue as V8E3 (regarding what Penny should do), I could actually see them arguing about it.

The other thing is their positions in each other’s life is pretty remarkable. Alexkablob (here on Tumblr) already said this before but yes, Penny seems like an outlier in her relationship with Ruby, and so is Ruby in regards to who surrounds Penny.

Just this evening I literally had a shower thought on why their relationship works -- it’s because I could perceive them as equal in many ways. Both of them have large responsibilities that I think only they are in the position to understand each other. Ruby is the leader of this group of Huntspeople whose actions could affect the fate of Remnant itself. That’s heavy. Penny, on the other hand, is this girl who simply wanted to become the Protector of Mantle but now her decisions and her responsibility could either save or destroy Atlas / Mantle and much more than that, if she fails at her current mission. They’re both lonely heroes who bear the weight of the world, I believe, much more than anyone else really.

A fellow server member said it: Ruby and Penny are both givers; they barely have any left for themselves.

Ruby is a leader. If anything, being a leader is lonely. Because everyone actually depends on you, whether that’s implicit or explicit. Being a leader means a lot of people look up to you to be at your best. And Ruby, we know Ruby. She gives love to everyone; she cares about everyone. She’s literally the shining beacon of Remnant. But what happens when her confidence is not enough? What happens when she begins to doubt herself?

Story-wise, there’s that one person outside her team, outside her family, who shares the same burdens as she does, and is not in any way connected to her other than a strong friendship bond -- Penny. Ruby is not Penny’s leader. Penny leads herself, even dangerously at times because that’s what she thinks is right. In a way, both Ruby and Penny are leaders.

Both are highly independent of one another, yet, they could become interdependent if they need to.

Penny is in the best position to understand what Ruby is going through. She’s in the right position to give Ruby the same thing they both can’t give themselves -- love. Or care, if you want a lighter term. But it isn’t just any kind of love / care -- it’s that love they need so badly -- love for themselves, but when they’re with one another, that’s something they could actually bring out easy. They spend all their love giving it to the world, they hardly have any left for them -- but then, their relationship with each other replenishes that. It’s mutual. The way they want to protect and support each other -- it’s splayed across V7 and condensed in the first three episodes of V8.

It’s also interesting to note that Penny is the first person to return to Ruby after losing her (compared to Pyrrha and Summer). Looking at Ruby’s history, that’s like some miraculous ray of hope that comes during dark times (and it doesn’t help that I’ve overanalyzed that in the V7 opening, the lyrics in Penny’s appearance is “Through love your power just shines” and the way Penny turns like she’s someone you wanted to meet again after a long time???). She becomes this hope for Ruby that everything can be better, that Penny won’t leave again. And the way V8 is playing on this just outright makes me both excited and anxious lmao. No doubt Ruby and Penny’s arcs are heavily tied to the plot, especially their relationship.

AND YEA LOL THAT WAS A LOOONG POST BUT I JUST HAD TO GET IT OUT THERE

#that-one-gundam-guy #penny polendina #ruby rose #nuts and dolts #mechanical rose #rwby #askbox #see this is my nuts and dolts brainrot coming out #i must be having withdrawals from the lack of canon N&D interactions #jfsjdfjsdjf #but i just really love them so much i can't explain #the positioning of their characters is what makes me ship them so hard

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airquietworks · 4 years

Text

A Clash of Icebound Hearts (IzuOcha) (Oneshot)

Summary: “The version of him she needed had emerged again. Not a friend. Not a lover. A rival.”

Ochako knows she is a long way from being a hero that could match Deku. But when she is unable to save him from a severe injury, she questions whether she is worthy of a place at his side. She must find a way to prove her strength, to both herself and to him. Even if that means risking their relationship.

________________________________________

Uravity struggled to breathe as she pushed through the wind and snow, sheer terror seizing her desperately heaving lungs.

Nonetheless, she ran with everything she had. The elements fought against her, the cold biting into her flesh and the twisting white obscuring her vision. She refused to let it slow her. A life was on the line - one far more precious to her than any other.

The Paranormal Liberation Front’s attack on the city charged the air, filling it with shouts, screams and thundering explosions. People called out in need, far more than she could hope to rescue - though she had already helped plenty. She carried on as the crying battered her ears. She had to trust her friends would get the job done.

“He can’t...be...that far…” she muttered to herself between breaths. Civilians and heroes alike ran in the opposite direction, but she paid them no heed.

The discordant sounds of combat were easy to follow. The crowds began to thin, as they ran away from the forces of nature at the heart of it all.

Gritting her teeth, she pushed her legs even faster, forced to forgo weightlessness or else get bounced around in the wind. She turned a corner, barreling headfirst into the fray.

Uravity had little time to react to the scene before her. The major intersection was completely wrecked. Broken screens and windows dotted the buildings, the glass scattered onto the streets below. The ground had become uneven, broken into chunks as if crushed underneath the weight of titans.

But none of that got her attention for long. Deku - the target of her rescue - floated in the air, twisting and turning away from sharp, deadly tendrils shooting out from Shigaraki. The villain to end all hung menacingly from on high, a devil laying waste to the land below.

One hit could be her hero’s end - but she knew that would never cause him to flee. She could not see any of the other heroes who must have engaged, but she was not surprised he was the last one standing. Even if he was not supposed to be here at all.

The gravity hero leapt into the air, triggering her Quirk on herself, sending out ropes from her left gauntlet to anchor to a leaning lamp post. She floated closer to the encounter, readying herself to act quickly as necessary.

Deku surged upward, intent on closing the gap between him and his foe. But he did not immediately react to three massive hunks of concrete hurtling toward him from different directions, drawn in by some unseen force. Uravity did not think - she pushed herself off the post, rocketing towards the fight. She sent more ropes out, desperate to reach him.

He managed to smash through two, but the third crashed into his left side before she could secure him. She cried out as the ropes coiled around his descending body and she quickly pulled them in. She barely managed to get him out as a surge of darkened tendrils penetrated the air where Deku had been mere moments ago.

Uravity triggered her Quirk on her charge as soon as she had him in her arms. Without a word, she whacked the nearly unconscious man in the back of the neck, sending him the rest of the way to sleep. This was a rescue mission - and he would bolt from her if he found the opportunity. She could not afford that.

In her next breath, she let herself plummet, barely dodging out of the way of another attack from the villains’ master. She tapped a button on her belt, sending out a distress beacon to her location. When she carefully hit the ground, she sprinted with everything she had, knowing two lives were on the line.

A burst of energy in the air signaled the arrival of back up - precisely who, she did not risk checking. Lungs burning, she pushed herself through the howling wind towards relative safety.

She squeezed Deku towards her, shifting his limp body to get him hanging on her back. Full of adrenaline, her pulse pounded in her ears. She kept her mind focused as much as she could on putting one foot in front of the other - and not on the near-death experience they had barely escaped.

They had to live - and fight another day.

_________________________________________________

Ochako’s brows furrowed as she watched the steady rise and fall of Izuku’s chest. With nothing else in the hospital room to listen to but the sound of his breathing, it became monotonous. She used to find calm in hearing peaceful breath. Now, it acted as a reminder of how little things had changed.

Once again, she found herself looking over the prone form of Izuku in a hospital bed. Bandages covered his skin, particularly around his left arm which had taken the brunt of the impact. He had suffered worse injuries, but it still did her heart no good seeing him like this, out cold for over a day now.

Same as it ever was.

I could not be there in time to help him.

The thought rang around in her mind, over and over again. If she had arrived mere seconds sooner, he might have avoided any injury - and kept fighting. For all the effort she had put into training - specifically to save heroes - she was unable to save Izuku from getting hurt like this. Worse still, if she had even been one second later, there might not even be a body here for her to mope over. They were no strangers to brushes with death - but something about his life being in her hands made everything far more terrifying than it used to be.

It did not help that he leapt into the fray and bit off more than he could chew - again. It was not surprising, but as the danger of their lives increased, so too did her frustration with it. He had torn away from their class’s group - assigned to backline rescue as third-year students - without a second thought. She could never fully understand his reckless zeal, as much as she admired it.

Deku is a hero who would always charge in, alone if need be, to save people. Even if it meant leaving those who could not keep up with him behind.

Even if it meant leaving her behind.

Ochako groaned, putting a hand over her beating heart. She shook her head to drag her thoughts out of a spiral. She refused to be ruled by her haywire emotions - a difficult war, which added to her frustration.

Things had changed. They were together now. Despite her better judgement, she had let herself fall into that heavenly tempest when he had invited her in. Awkward dates, relaxed companionship, their first shy kisses - it was magic. Her unchained heart breathed a new sense of life and bliss into her.

Now, that heart hammered around inside, violently lashing out over his safety - and her failure.

I could not be there in time to help him.

She balled her fists into her jeans. If he only would just stay still and do what he was supposed to, for once. If he did not rush headlong into wherever the fire burnt the hardest. If he would do the rational thing. If he would not run off, turning her back on her, every single time, leaving her to chase after his shadow.

But he would not be him then. The greatest hero on Earth. Her mind warred against her heart over how much she could reasonably fault him for it.

The seconds ticked on. Despite all her effort, nothing had changed.

I’m not good enough to help him.

Then she would have to find a way to get good enough.

The sound of movement broke the uneasy peace in the room. Ochako gasped as Izuku began to stir, his eyes finally opening. His gaze moved slowly, surveying his condition; he visibly relaxed after a moment, a hospital bed all too familiar to him.

“Good to see you awake, Deku.” She scooched her chair closer. He gave her a gentle smile, one she could not find it in her to return.

“You saved me,” he said. “Thank you for that. And every other time. I owe you so much.”

“Don’t mention it,” she replied quickly. The line made her squirm in her chair. She appreciated it, but the sentiment strangely hurt. It felt wrong with him injured like this - because of both their mistakes.

But as the smile ran away from his face, guilt coursed through her. She should push her feelings aside here; he had just woken up, after all. She reached out to grasp his loose left hand, squeezing it carefully to avoid triggering her Quirk. He responded in kind, but his weak grip did not return a sense of comfort.

“What happened?”

She let out a sigh, dreading the question. She disentangled herself from his hand, leaning back into her chair.

Ochako did her best to recount the day’s events - her rescue effort, the professional backup arriving to re-engage with a worn-down Shigaraki and the villains fleeing when the battle started to turn, content with the damage done. Low casualties, but plenty of destruction and injuries. The world sinking deeper into a pit of fear, hero society alive but getting ever closer to the brink.

His demeanor shifted as the story went on. His eyes became downcast, his fingers tensing into his bedsheets. He turned his head away from her, staring out into the snowy landscape outside.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I couldn’t stop him. I was not strong enough. But I will be next time.”

Her heart sank into her stomach, even though she completely expected that response. He would always be eager to leap back into the fight right away, even as he had just barely begun to recover from his injuries

When the time came, he would do it alone. Whatever the reason, he would not likely ask for help in this battle. Help usually to be thrust onto him - but she could not consistently offer it when it counted.

This was a battle between two nigh-unstoppable beings. She lacked the strength to earn a “we” from him. He would leave her behind, again.

The thought tasted so bitter on her tongue. “How are you going to do that, Deku?” His head swung back toward her, his eyebrows quirked above his head. “Come again?” “How are you going to survive against him?” She clenched her fists. They vibrated intensely, as she imagined his prone form hanging in the air, without her close enough to save him. “Ochako, are you okay?” She blinked and cursed herself when realized a couple of stray tears had escaped her attempts to shackle them. “I’m fine.” He stretched a hand out but could not hope to reach her. “You’re-” “What are you going to do from here?” The boy withdrew his hand as if she had struck him. It pained her to see it - but she ignored that pain within the storm of her other emotions. “There may not be anyone else who can stop him now.” His fierce green eyes answered her impassioned stare. “It’s going to be hard. I know my life will be on the line. But I’ll do whatever I have to.” It was the only answer he would ever give. She would never factor into that equation. In this, Uravity could never be his partner. She could never be his equal. She rubbed at her eyes as a few more tears escaped. She had to get a hold of herself. She could not afford to waste time. Ochako took a deep, steadying breath and rose. She had work to do. “I know you will. Because you’re you.” She grabbed a coat hanging around the back of her chair, turning her back on him. “I promised myself I’d always be there to save you. But you’re making that difficult. I guess I’ll have to push myself harder, too.” She headed towards the exit. There were many long days of training ahead of her if she wanted to make herself stronger. The bed creaked behind her - far too much for how much he should be moving. “Ochako, wait, please!” She stopped in place but did not turn around. “I can’t wait.” She took another step. “I know the person I’m chasing won’t wait for me.” The threshold was upon her. She paused one more time, glancing backwards. His hands shook, while his eyes stretched wide open. The pained expression seared itself into her mind. She hated herself for putting that there. “Rest up. Don’t push yourself too hard.” She ripped her glance away from him. She had to escape. “I know you can do it.” For the first time since they had met, she was the one leaving him behind. ______________________________________________

The rising sun offered little warmth against the chill of the morning. Ochako kept herself suspended in midair. She stretched, moving through a variety of attacking forms, testing both her strength and endurance. On another day, the glorious orange hues of the early morning, reflecting off the untouched snow below, might have inspired awe in her. But floating 50 feet above the ground - right over the roof of her student dorm - she could not spare the loss of focus for even a second. Her gut churned. She punched. The bile kept bubbling in her throat. She kicked. She refused to be felled by her queasiness. Her life revolved around this now. She pushed her body to the brink each day, from dawn to dusk, training. She had never been a slouch, but she had a better understanding now of how much further she had to go to achieve her goals. The rays of the sun above could not reach her, nor could the chill flowing across her skin. She would deal with worse soon. This was nothing. The loud beeping of her phone from the rooftop signaled the end of her drill. She carefully descended towards it, turning her Quirk on-and-off to guide her descent and practice her fine-control skills. With exactly 15 minutes to get to her first class, she grabbed her bag and leapt right off the roof, bounding towards the main school building. It had taken some thought to develop the system, but it had worked perfectly so far. She rose before anyone else in her dorm to get hard training in. She avoided the morning rush in the common rooms, taking a direct and solitary route to the classroom. The best way to start the day without any hassle. Her feet touched the ground in front of the school, and she took off in a sprint towards her class. The timing was always a little tight - she needed to ensure she made it with time to spare, but as little of it as possible. That would leave the smallest amount of opportunity for any chatter or distractions. But her spirits inevitably came crashing down as she found herself at the Class 3-A door. The wood imposed more than it had ever before, looming large over her head. With a tired sigh, she kept her head down and opened the doorway. She felt the eyes of her classmates drawn to her. It was not unusual for entrants to garner attention, but the intensity of their stares penetrated far deeper into her than they normally would.

Ochako carefully stepped forward. She lifted her head just enough, putting on a small smile. She had to keep up appearances. She repeated a mantra in her head - I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine - as she headed toward her desk near the back. She kept her eyes forward, pointedly avoiding eye contact with anyone.

Despite her best efforts, she felt Izuku’s gaze on her, a flash of green in her peripheral vision. Her heart beat faster - threatening to break through the chains she had surrounded it with again - as she neared the front row of desks where he sat, waiting for her, every day. For a week now, she had done everything in her power to avoid him. To avoid addressing these feelings burning at her core, that none of her training completely shook off. To prevent a confrontation with him about her anger, her misery, her love. To instead focus on working for the greater good of the world - and him. To push past any of the distractions that might prevent her from getting as strong as she needed to be. “Hey, Ochako, how is it-” “Hello, Midoriya. Fine.” The cold reception did the trick to freeze him in place, allowing her to pass him by. The icy walls between them had to stay up, for now. She could not know what might happen if she let them fall, with her heart and mind at war with each other. Soon. She would deal with it soon. She just needed a bit more time. Her heart refused to end things with him completely, not when it had tasted the sweet nectar of romantic bliss. She just had to find a way to rebalance things - when she could get a better hold of her heart again. Ochako reached her desk and busied herself with getting ready for class. She felt the stares of her friends on her. But with perfect timing - she had ensured it - Aizawa came into the room and got the attention off her. She scribbled furiously in her notebook as her instructor droned on. She let her mind fall into the day's lessons on heroics, a headspace she felt safe in. But despite her best efforts, her eyes wandered toward the messy green hair of the man she loved. She could not see his face, but his hand moved at a rapid pace, dutiful as ever in his studies. She frowned and followed suit. Soon. She would figure things out soon. Just as soon as she was good enough to walk by his side again. _____________________________________________ The cool water was mercy as she chugged it down her throat. Ochako drank eagerly, her sweat-stained body demanding nourishment. She felt aches all over after a difficult sparring session, but she got a strange enjoyment out of them. They were proof of her ability to push herself, something she would continue to do. By her side, she heard her Izuku drinking along with her, his hurried breath matching hers. “You’re...getting a lot harder… to pin,” Ochako said. The extra aches were a testament to that. His technical fighting skills had improved so much in the span of the mere weeks since they began training together.

He smiled gently at her. “That was a heck of a move, though. Where did you learn it?”

“Something I’ve been working on my own.” She stretched her arms upward, unable to contain the pride in her voice. “Got to keep things fresh if I’m going to keep up with you, right?” “I could say the same to you.” He glanced back toward the training ring, a small corner in the U.A. gym complex for hand-to-hand, generally Quirkless, sparring.

It was a place they liked to frequent - and a place where Ochako reigned supreme, thanks to her Gunhead Martial Arts knowledge. Nobody in their class had been able to take her on successfully without a Quirk. “You’re getting loads better though! You had me on the ropes.” “Still got a long way to go. But thank you again - senpai.” Ochako felt heat pool into her cheeks at the title. She cringed, leaping up off her seat. ”I told you not to call me that! Gosh, that still sounds so weird.” She shook her head, trying to shake it off her. “You’ve taught me way more than I’ve taught you!

“I beg to differ. You’ve helped me so much, Ochako.”

He stood up and held a hand out to her. She gladly took it, as they walked together toward the exit. Their sweat mingled between their grasps, but the sensation was not unpleasant. It felt right, somehow.

“You’ve helped me way more, Deku.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“We can settle it in the ring next time!”

“Well, that hardly seems fair.”

They laughed together, lifting each other’s spirits. A precious moment of peace in a time of darkness.

On impulse, she grabbed onto him and reached up, planting a kiss on his freckled cheek. A thrill surged through her as he blushed and huffed, the hue far too adorable on his boyish face. He affixed her with a questioning look. He opened and closed his mouth, unable to find the words. Her kisses tended to do that to him, to her endless delight. “Wha…?” “Payback for earlier,” she said. “Had to embarrass you too.” Izuku blinked at that, before rejoining her in mirth. Being with him was a respite - one she was glad to no longer deny herself. Walking side-by-side, she knew that they would be all right. _____________________________________________

Ochako groaned as her phone’s alarm clock blared at a far-too-early hour. Nonetheless, she grabbed onto it with her oversized sleeping mitten, turning it off and forcing herself to get out of the bed. The remnants of the dream - an echo of far more pleasant days - added to her sour mood as she got herself changed. She did not want to think about him and her together, but her sleeping mind often forced that on her. It added to the misery of it all, but she would not let it break her concentration or impede her daily training.

She grimaced as she peeked out of her window. The wind blew the flakes of snow in a vicious spin. Not a promising start to the day. The weekend had arrived, which meant her scheduled run that would eat up a lot of the morning. Even with the weather against her, she would not be dissuaded. She would endure whatever the world threw at her and push through anyway. That was what it meant to be a hero, after all. She dressed into her athletic gear and exited the back door of the dorm building. The unrelenting white greeted her with a cold embrace that sent goosebumps across her exposed face. The wind attacked her, making it difficult to see far. Gritting her teeth, she stepped onto the snow-laden path, stretching a bit before starting up a jog, warming her body up as best she could. The difficulty made itself immediately apparent. The slippery ground required extra force in her steps to avoid falling. Even if she knew the path like the back of her hand, it was difficult carrying on. But she would do it. For him. For her. For the future. “Hey, Ochako! Could I join you for this one?” Izuku’s voice sent a jolt down her spine. She swung her head behind her; there he was, a short distance away with an eager grin, wearing the same athletics uniform. The air howled again, pushing against her. She frowned at him and kept running. This was not the time to entertain thoughts of rekindling their stalled relationship. She had training to do. She had to focus on that. This was a test; her will against her aching heart. But Izuku could not be so easily shaken off. He sped up to her, nearly getting to her side on the path. The wind and snow continued to beat down on them, ripping through the space between. “Look, I was hoping we could talk after this!” Izuku shouted, voice penetrating through the wind. “I want to give a proper apology. And I want...I want to talk about us. I’ll accept whatever you have to say. But I just want to sort things out.” It hurt her ears for his voice to ring so desperately. To hear the pain she had caused. A part of her roared in anguish, demanding she relent. She bit her lip and pushed down those feelings. She was not ready for this. She could not do this right now. Ochako angled her head to the side, hoping her words could carry loudly enough. Her breathing came hard now, but she kept up her pace, determined to keep ahead of him.

“I don’t really want to talk right now!” With that, she kicked into another gear. Izuku had kept a respectable distance in recent days, able to take a hint. But this time, he refused to relent. He matched her increased speed, using a bend to close the distance. It was a race now. Her, Izuku and the raging winter between them. She had to keep ahead or risk her resolve crumbling. If she had to outpace him to achieve that, she would. “You keep running!” Izuku shouted again, voice breaking through the crisp air. “But we have to deal with this at some point!” “This is a bad time!” She raised her voice, not disguising her ire as she began to sprint. She hoped he would not trigger his Quirk for this, but he hardly needed to, his natural physique allowing him to keep closing the distance. She drew into the fire burning within her - the passionate determination she had to improve. She fueled herself with it, pushing to her limit. She could not even feel the cold anymore. “Ochako, please!” She refused to heed him. “This is what I have to do!”

“Just tell me what you want from me, and I’ll do it!” His footsteps became more rapid as she tried to widen their gap, staying a few strides ahead of him.

“I know you can’t do it, so I have to do this!” She did not look back. She could not afford to.

“What are you talking-”

He let out a wordless yelp, followed by a loud thud. She slowed her run until she could stop to turn. His face sunk into the ground, their race upending him.

“Deku!” She ran over to him, his wellbeing taking precedence over maintaining their separation. She kneeled and put a hand on his shoulder, readying herself to carry him if need be.

“I’m alright,” he said as he sat up, shaking the snow from his hair. His face had a small gash, but nothing too concerning. Still, he winced as he stretched. She knew if he did have a more serious ailment, he would ignore it.

“You should go inside and get it looked at, just in case,” she chided as she grabbed onto his hand. He grasped onto it, the calloused appendage slipping into hers. Rough, but still pleasant to touch. “I’ll go in a bit. Thanks, Ochako.” For a brief shining moment, they stood together, their hands intertwined. It was natural. Warm. Right. They forgot their divide, as their care for one another overpowered it. But it vanished as quickly as it came. Izuku tried to hold on, but Ochako forced a break in the physical connection. She retreated into herself. “Izuku, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But I... I just can’t, right now.” “Then when? I just want to fix this. Please. Don’t keep shutting me out.” “It’s not...it’s not something I want to do.” She shifted on her feet, turning her back towards him. She could not bear to face him right now. “But I’m still hurt. And I’m still figuring stuff out. I’m just not sure about where we go from here.” “Not sure…” he repeated, voice sinking. She took a couple of steps, intent on sprinting away. But her heart rebelled, keeping her in place. She grimaced and clutched at her chest, trying to retain some semblance of control. She could not do this. She could not fall into his arms. She had to be strong.

“Ochako, we should really talk about this more.” There was a harsh edge in the words. A bitterness she could not stand. “I don’t understand. And I can’t understand unless we-”

She cut him off before he reeled her in.

“We will. Eventually. I just...need more time. I think some time is good for both of us right now.”

With that, she ran away, keeping her eyes glued to the landscape. This time, he did not chase after her.

The wind roared, and the snow kept bombarding her. She eagerly plunged into it, focusing on the awful sensation it left atop her skin, relishing in the bitter cold.

________________________________________________________

No matter how she tried, she could not capture sleep.

Ochako tossed and turned in bed, haunted by her encounter with Izuku from that morning. In wakefulness, she drove herself to the point of distraction. But it was harder to escape him between the realms of sleep and waking, his face plaguing her, muddying her mind. With a groan, she pushed herself upright. She stared out into the dark room. Memories of the time they spent together here began to surface in her mind, making the space foreboding. She quickly forced herself out of bed, hurriedly getting herself dressed. If respite was unreachable, she would just train until she could. Natural sleep eluded her; she would work herself until she could force it to take hold. She grabbed her workout bag and left the room, tiptoeing through the dorms, mindful not to stir her classmates. The nighttime halls were tricky to navigate, but she had enough late escapes over the years to maneuver by memory. The chill outside brushed her skin intensely, with snow falling gently over the fields. Ochako acted quickly as the cold sunk its teeth into her again. She raced towards her destination, wanting to find even a modicum of warmth. The scenery had its appeal - with the snow glistening under the lights of the school - but the chill made it difficult to find any joy in the sight. The U.A. gym facility loomed large as she arrived. She fumbled through her pockets to pull out a keycard, a perk of being a third year in the hero course. In these harsh times, the school would not deny them the training space, regardless of the hour.

To Ochako’s surprise, light flooded the facility, indicating she was not as alone as she expected to be at this late hour. She glanced over the rows upon rows of equipment as she entered to find her late-night compatriot.

The head of green hair - underneath a shifting, massive dumbbell - shocked her into stillness.

There Deku was, glistening with sweat as he pumped the bar up and down quickly, assuredly without his quirk. She dared to approach - if he had noticed her, he did not bother indicating as such. His arms moved deftly, the heavy weight doing little to impede his well-muscled limbs.

Evidently, restlessness had taken hold of him, as well.

Ochako opted against disturbing him. She had to work herself to sleep - nothing more. If he kept his distance - allowed her to maintain the icebound spell between them - she could carry on fine. She got herself into a weight machine well away from him and got to work.

Izuku eventually paused his own ministrations, setting his bar back against the rack, breathing deeply. He looked up at her, maintaining a stoic aura. He did nothing to outwardly acknowledge her presence, but she knew he was too observant to miss it. Still, that suited her just fine.

The two continued their workouts without a word. Calming tranquility took hold of the space. Not enough to bridge their divide, but enough for a ceasefire in their cold war.

The space filled with the sounds of their breathing and the metallic slams of whatever weight system they tackled. Their paces stayed out-of-sync, but they both worked toward their respective goals in peace.

But before Ochako became completely cognizant of it, they both pushed themselves more than needed to. They went beyond their original aims of finding rest.

Izuku ran quickly on the treadmill, breathing deeply. He attacked an exercise machine next, adding enough weight to reach what she knew was close to his Quirkless maximum before attacking the device in earnest.

For her part, Ochako added a few extra discs when he took to the bench press, pushing against her own limits. Like Izuku, she refused to use her Quirk to make things easier on herself.

The tension in the room escalated with their intensity. What began as a sleepless night soon became another unspoken contest. In this space, they had always pushed one another, driving each other to go beyond. Tonight, it would be no different.

But silence had replaced relentless encouragement. Their warm love was replaced by an icy unease. Friendliness had left their competition. Even as the allure of sleep began to gnaw at the corners of her mind, she did not heed it. The prospect of leaving before Izuku did - proving herself unable to keep up with him - had become unfathomable.

Their bodies could not keep up the pace forever. With synchronicity, they each took a water break, grabbing a drink from fountains on opposite sides of the facility. Merely a few seconds apart, they both sat down on a weight bench, suddenly face-to-face at some distance.

Ochako pointedly acted aloof, looking away from him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him doing the same, idly scanning his shoes.

They were a completely hopeless pair.

Ochako could not stop the small chuckle and smirk that came from the thought. It proved infectious, as Izuku let out his own peal of laughter across from her.

They dared to look at one another, finally acknowledging each other. Her hero’s eyes had a fierceness, but also a spark she had come to love. They spoke of challenge and unyielding determination. She did her best to meet it head-on. To stand up to his expectations.

With the slightest incline of her head, she motioned towards her left. The direction of the sparring ring. A silent challenge. An opportunity to test her mettle. To quickly end the contest the night had brought.

He nodded in reply.

The two walked wordlessly in unison towards the ring. They both loved the place, the home of their many bouts. But as Ochako entered and squared up in her usual position against her far superior foe, the energy was different. It mattered in a way it had not before. She knew when push came to shove, he always pushed back harder.

The two of them paused, eyeing one another. Izuku stood powerfully, the fire still roaring in his eyes. In these moments, she found him to be at his most enthralling. When he looked ready to tear through any wall in front of him.

Tension-filled sweat gathered along her forehead. She took a steadying breath as the seconds eked on. The tempting flames that had lured them in burned between them. A part of her saw the ridiculousness of this. But she realized this is exactly what she needed - a chance to fight him. To prove herself a worthy adversary - and a worthy companion.

A test she needed to pass.

“Don’t hold back, Deku!”

He nodded. “Same to you.”

“Of course!”

Deku opted to make the first move, as he often did. He launched himself into head-on assault, leading with an overwhelming burst of speed and strength.

But Uravity was ready, predicting such a tactic. She easily blocked his flurry of punches and sidestepped the few knees he attempted to send her. She nearly grabbed hold of him to enter a grapple. but he dodged out of the way, using his agility to gain a bit of distance.

She did not relent. The moment he disengaged, she got right on top of him again, grabbing onto both of his arms. He struggled as she brought him in close and slammed his body into the ground, quickly gaining the upper hand. Even as he directed a few elbows into her core, she pushed on. Try as he might, she still had better technical hand-to-hand skills.

Uravity twisted his body, pinning him with her weight, a hand to the back of his neck.

She had won. But the hollow victory failed to satisfy her.

Where was the action to match his intense gaze? Where was the tactical genius she had seen overcome much greater odds than this? Where was Deku, the unstoppable force? This had been far too easy - like any run-of-the-mill sparring session.

It was not good enough. She could not be sure she was good enough with this.

“That can’t be all you got.” She released him, standing up and stepping away. “You’re holding back on me.”

Deku scrambled to stand back up. He grimaced, frowning at her, his eyes pleading. They no longer had the same intensity. That would not do. She bore her own gaze into him, challenging him, demanding his fire match her own.

“Ochako,” he began slowly, looking away, unable to match her intensity. “I’m sorry that I hurt you.”

“Not now,” she replied, stomping a foot down onto the mat. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we can talk later. Let’s finish this first.”

Deku huffed, but relented, getting into a ready stance. He balled his fists, his hands starting to shake. The fire returned to his eyes. The version of him she needed had emerged again. Not a friend. Not a lover. A rival.

“You ready?”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “Yes.”

She made the first strike this time. Defense was not his strongest suit, but he pressed as hard as he could to block her onslaught. He leaned into her efforts to grapple him, challenging her on her terms, desperate to find a way through. They found their hands intertwined, pushing against one another, each struggling to find an advantage.

For a brief moment, they stood face-to-face. Ochako looked into his eyes more closely than she had in weeks. She saw his fury, but there was more than that there. Wetness surrounded his eyes, his emotions pouring out from them.

“I hate this,” he whispered. “I hate fighting you like this.”

She groaned and shoved harder at him, but he remained unmoving.

“It’s not about whether it’s enjoyable,” she said, unable to contain the venom in her words. “It’s about doing what you have to do to save people. That’s how I see this. This is what I must do. That’s what it means to be a hero, isn’t it?”

“But we don’t have to do this!”

Izuku suddenly released the grapple, ducking under her oncoming hands. In the second she tipped off-balance, he tackled her core, driving her onto the ground.

“I don’t want to fight you! I just want to be with you!” He shouted it out as he struggled to find a pin against her. Despite his best efforts, she shoved him off, forcing him to hop back onto his feet.

“What are you-”

“But you won’t let me in, the same you always used to do! I hate it!”

He sprung at her as she stood back up, launching a series of punches toward her midsection. She managed to block most of them, but her reactions were not quick enough, and a couple of them struck true.

She shook as she found herself unable to contain his attack - or his words. “I just need time!”

“I can’t wait forever!” Another punch landed on her shoulder. She flinched as it seared in pain.

With a quick sweep of his feet, she fell backwards. As he brought her down to earth, he caught her arms, using his sudden leverage to twist her around. The two tumbled down together, him on top of her - and her arms caught behind her back.

Deku had won.

But for their racing breaths, the facility was quiet again. His words hung in the air, storming above them.

“I just…” he gulped. “Just tell me already. Tell me how you really feel about me. Don’t leave me on the edge.”

Deku left her there. She kept her face to the mat as he exited the ring. Uravity could not describe the emotion that coursed through as she lay there and pondered his words.

After all the effort she mustered to protect him from the extent of her feelings - he wanted to break through, right now? All the time she spent carefully containing them, locking them up to focus - all for his sake. All to save his life when his ridiculous, awesome, incredible, stupid zeal put him in harm’s way.

She just needed time. Space. A way to figure out how to do this. A way to prove to them both that she could keep up with him.

Yet here he was, demanding she break it all down for him. Let out the torrent, the anguish, the guilt, the envy.

Screw it.

If that is what he wanted, she would give it to him - and bury him under it. He would see her feelings. She would hide nothing - and get the battle she needed.

Without fanfare, she stood up, took a breath, and followed him out of the ring.

Uravity took a moment to regard him as he stood, still watching her. He looked completely worn out, his hair disheveled and his eyes red. More tears threatened to spill out of them. But there something resembling pity hid in that stare - which she would not stand.

Her vision got hazy as she stomped toward him, drawing into the bubbling fury within her. Deku meant everything to her - and that includes her envy, her fear and her insecurities. She could draw from that, just as much as she could draw on her love.

This was what she needed. She had to believe that.

“You want to know how I feel? Would you really understand?”

Uravity did not let him reply as she surged forward, slapping his face. She stretched her fingers out, tapping him with her Quirk and sending him hurtling towards the entranceway. Without missing a beat, she caught up to his floating form, grabbing onto his arm and roughly pulling him outside.

“Ochako! What are you doing?!” He fumbled in her iron grip, twisting and turning but unable to escape.

She pulled them out into the white abyss. The wind howled around her ears, the snow blowing roughly. The cold hit her again, but she hardly felt it.

Uravity threw him roughly towards the ground, releasing her Quirk. He sprung up as soon as she released him from the hold, instinctively putting his hands in front of him, expecting another assault.

The exact reaction she wanted.

“Fight me, Deku. No holding back. No holds barred. With your Quirk. Come at me with everything you got.” She got herself into a ready position, her hands going in front of her, keeping her gaze focused on him. If she wanted to stand any chance, she had to predict exactly where he would be in advance.

“Ochako, what the heck are you doing?!”

“This is what you asked for!” She stomped her foot into the ground. “You want to know how I feel? Well, here it is Deku! I feel like I need to fight you!”

The situation was absurd. Wild. A madness. But the churning in her belly demanded she followed through. She let her impulse take control. She could test her power this way.

He flinched under her verbal onslaught. “That’s...you…”

“I need to prove myself!” She refused to stop, even as his face crumbled. “I need to prove that I’m strong enough to stand by your side! So, let’s do it! Let’s fight for real!”

“Ochako, that’s not true. You don’t need to prove-”

“Do not lie to me Deku!”

The denial died on his tongue. He looked at her, hands shaking. He shivered, whether due to the chill or something else.

“Bakugo. Todoroki. I need you to fight me like you fought them.” She let her hands drop to her sides. She looked across his exposed arms, marred with the scars of past battles.

“Ochako, that’s not really...this is a different situation-”

“I need to know if I can fight you like they can.” She closed her eyes. The memories of all the times he had run off without her played in her mind - all the times she could not hope to chase him. “I see now. This might be the only way. The only way you will really trust me to stand with you.”

She got back into a ready position.

“I don’t need to prove myself? Then treat me like I’m someone worth giving your all to.”

Deku’s eyes widened. His body still shook. She watched another tear leak down his face, trailing down his freckled cheek into the ice below. She was sure she had let out a few of her own. It did not matter.

Her idol closed his eyes. Her rival opened them, filling those green irises with the burning intensity she needed.

Deku nodded and moved his hands in front of him.

“First to give up or be pinned. Hold nothing back. For real this time.”

“I won’t,” Deku replied. “I do respect you, Uravity.”

“Good. Prove it. Come at-”

She had to duck from his oncoming blow. The wind swept around her hair, blowing with an intensity that nearly knocked her off her feet.

She twisted around quickly. Deku had flown 10 feet behind her, his arm outstretched. The superpowered charge carried him quite a distance, so fast that she could barely track it. Still, it thrilled her that she dodged him at his top speed, even if only once.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that!”

Deku turned back towards her, readying himself to burst forward again. His mouth formed a hard line, his eyes imploring her.

“Uravity, I don’t know if this means anything to you right now. But I’ve always felt you were one of the best.”

He leapt out of her sight again. She did not react immediately, predicting he would take his time for his second attack. She could not see him well - his speed made him a blur and the snow made that even worse - but she heard him in the air. She just had to be patient.

“That hardly matters when I am comparing myself against the best.”

She shifted the side as he directed a punch towards her stomach. In the split second of his vulnerability, she grabbed hold of his outstretched arm. She delighted in his little gasp of surprise as she triggered her Quirk. She twisted him overhead, slamming him towards the ground and releasing him with all his weight back.

The green hero crashed hard, gasping at the impact. Before she could go for the pin, he had already started moving, rolling with the blow and returning to his flyby pattern.

It was a start - but not good enough to keep him down.

“Look how strong you are!” He cried out from the darkness, keeping out of her vision. “You’re reading my moves like a pro, even at these speeds. You’re incredible, Uravity! You are worthy!”

“Not yet I’m not!”

A blast of air buffeted her - courtesy of a finger snap from him - far more difficult to track than his physical form. She barely stood her ground, digging her heels into the snow to keep herself from flying away. She had more preparation for the second burst of air, though she had to fall to her knees to keep herself in place.

But it left her vulnerable to his black whip. The tendrils wrapped around her arms, shoving her, making her topple over face-first into the ground. Breathing hard, she forced her body to roll forward, pulling hard and breaking the whips even as her body protested hard against the maneuver. But it stopped the fight from ending, as Deku pounced on the spot she was in a split second ago.

Uravity rolled back onto her feet by the time he was ready to attack again. He stood still for just a moment before squatting down to leap away again.

But this time, she did not allow him to. She pushed herself to her knees and triggered her Quirk, blasting upwards with all the strength she had built over the years. She could not hope to match his speed, but she had just enough quickness to grab onto his foot as he leapt, activating her Quirk again and ruining his trajectory.

His forward momentum carried them both skyward, but Uravity did not stop there, yanking him back down. She could not see his face as she went into a power move - mustering all her strength to whirl him around mid-air, using his momentum against him in a disorienting spin.

“If I am really worthy…” she grit her teeth as she spun, pushing down the bile rising in her throat. “Then why don’t you act like I am?! Why do you always leave me behind?!”

She released him and deactivated her quirk, his weight and momentum hurting him towards the ground. She caught a glimpse of his expression, his eyes wide open in shock. But the spin did not manage to disorient him enough. He cancelled the plunge with his own float powers, quickly countering his descent by flicking his fingers toward the ground, sending out an airblast.

“I’m sorry, Uravity! It just...it happens!” he cried out.

“Then I need to make sure I’m strong enough to keep up!”

She released her Quirk, letting herself fall to the Earth. She oriented herself to rocket towards him, intent on driving him into the dirt with her own two hands if she had to.

Deku twisted himself in the air to meet her. Rather than avoid the collision, he went on the offensive. As they clashed, he drove a fist into her gut. Uravity gasped as the blow knocked the breath out of her, pain surging in her stomach.

But the bulk of her desperate move still landed, and she drove both of them into the Earth. Deku took the brunt of the blow, bouncing with the hard impact. Their bodies tumbled together, rolling into the snow. The substance got trapped underneath her clothing, melting into her bare skin underneath and sending shivers through her. Fresh scrapes and bruises throbbed; she did her best to ignore them.

Uravity disentangled herself from him as quickly as possible, scrambling to stand back up. She could not get to her feet before puking, the blow to her stomach landing hard enough to force it.

She wiped her mouth quickly and surged to her feet. breathing hard to control her queasiness. The world spun, but she got her fists in front of her, ready to deflect his next attack.

Her foe did not strike immediately. He rose to his feet, breathing as deeply as she did. The snow falling overhead had subsided, but the wind still raged. White covered his green hair, while melted traces of ice fell across his skin. Fresh scrapes and forming bruises dotted his skin as well. The illusion of a mighty rival had vanished; he just looked terrible. A strange mixture of horror and satisfaction ran through her, knowing she made him that way.

“Don’t you see yet, Uravity?” His words were strained, interrupted by a heaving breath. “You’re already strong enough to stand by me.”

Uravity shook her head. She would not let his honeyed words deceive her anymore.

“I’m nearly at the end of my rope here, Deku.” She looked down at her right hand, seeing the bloody cuts marring it, the flow slowed by the night’s chill. “You’re the strongest hero in the world. You and I both know who has more endurance here. I have to do a lot better.”

Deku groaned, putting a hand to his face and shaking his head.

“I can barely stand.” He let out an awkward chuckle, filled with bitterness instead of mirth. “It’s funny. I am so far away from being what you think of me. Yet here you are thinking you’re unworthy.”

“You’re not,” she said flatly, taking a step forward. “You’re the most incredible hero I’ve ever met and I’m...I’m just Ochako. The gravity girl, not powerful enough to be there when it really matters.”

“You’re wrong!”

The furious denial made her jump slightly, his voice escalating quickly. She gasped at the passion in his eyes, bearing into her, burning everything else away.

“You’re one of the most spectacular, strong, and powerful heroes I’ve ever met!” he shouted, his hands flying with every word. “You’re the best person I know!” he put his hand over his heart, curling his fingers there. “And I would never have gotten this far if not for you! I would be dead ten times over!”

She brought her hands to her ears. She felt the words burrowing into her, abating the angry pulse of her heart. She loved him so much. But she could not leave this place without finishing this. Without knowing who would win.

She met his stare head-on, hard as he was to look at. “I’m not good enough for that to be true!”

“Yes, you are! You are the one who is far too good for me!”

Uravity blinked, legitimately caught off guard by the preposterousness of the statement.

“What? You’re the most amazing person I know. How could you think that?”

“Because you’ve been ignoring me for weeks! Because you’re you and I’m just me! Because you are the most wonderful person in the-”

”I still want to be with you!” she shouted back. “Now stop complimenting me already and hit me!”

No longer willing to let their absurd, distracting conversation continue, she charged him with all the strength she could still muster.

To her frustration, Deku merely dodged, ducking out of her attacks far too easily. She felt her speed slowing, even as she tried to draw upon whatever adrenaline she had left in her system.

“I don’t want to hit you anymore! I don’t want to fight you!” He cried out as he blocked her punches. He dodged backwards as she attempted to sweep his feet. His agility just made her more frustrated.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” She felt her whole body quivering from a mixture of the biting cold and the fire burning at her inside. “This is what I have to do.”

She let her mind conjure up that haunting vision again. Deku, hanging in the air. A tendril puncturing him, spilling his blood out onto the concrete below. Her, reaching out, not fast enough to save him this time.

With a breath, she demanded her body keep pushing. To go beyond.

“I love you too much to not do this!”

She sank herself to the ground and launched herself with her Quirk again, hurtling toward him in a self-destructive attack. Deku did not leap away in time and she managed to wrap her arms around his hips, sending them both back in the ground again.

Uravity desperately attempted to grab hold of his arms and find the pin, but he shoved back hard, grabbing onto her hands. She stared down at him, his expression a mask of strain as he pushed back against her, trying to get back up.

“And I love you too much to want to hurt you anymore!”

“Little late for that!”

He finally gave her what she wanted. He launched his head forward, butting heads with her. Her forehead stung as she reeled backwards. It allowed his push to work and he flung her off, using enough force to send her tumbling in the dirt a few feet away.

Every bounce off the ice dug into her, the pain stacking up. She tried to do another quick roll to stand back up but found her body thoroughly unwilling to move in that way. When she finally came to a stop, she forced herself to slowly get her feet back under her, her limbs screaming in protest every step of the way. Her legs trembled when she finally stood again - but she managed it.

For his part, Deku also stood up, but his stance looked shaky. They were both out of breath, their arms hanging loosely at their sides. They both stood on their last legs.

“Ochako. Can we-”

“No, Deku. We’re finishing this. I need this. I need to know what will happen.”

He let out a deep sigh.

“I’m sorry. I guess this is the only way.”

Deku brought his shaking hands up in front of him again.

“If this is what you need, I won’t deny you anymore.”

Uravity breathed a sigh of relief. For the first time in their fight, she felt her lips curling upwards.

“Thank you, Deku. I’ll live with whatever happens.” Her sore arms ached as she put them up in front of her. “Good luck.”

“Same to you.”

They sized each other up one last time. Even with him in terrible shape, at that moment, Deku looked every bit the hero she knew him to be.

This was the way it had to be. They would sharpen each other to be even better. It had to be an equal partnership - and Uravity could never be content unless she could force that to be the case again.

With a final, harmonious roar, they charged at one another. It echoed into the night, unmitigated by the wind. Uravity braced herself for the blow to come, risking everything into one final strike.

They collided in the middle. She saw every freckle on his features. She sent her first hurtling toward his face. In her peripheral vision, his fist appeared just before it smacked against her cheek.

The scarred fist met her...and she felt no pain.

The two of them panted in unison. She looked up to see her own fist sinking into the skin of his cheek. His head tilted slightly, but he otherwise stood upright, barely budged from the blow.

Their final strikes had done nothing. They had no energy left to summon any more strength for the blows to make an impact.

Izuku and Ochako collapsed onto the ground side by side, completely spent. They crashed into the dirt face up, laying next to one another. The ground cooled their overheated skin.

The tension between them disappeared with the rest of their energy. Ochako did her utmost to stave off the urge to sleep, knowing how dangerous that could be. They should get out of the cold snow - but she found it impossible to move any of her limbs.

The sun crested the horizon, bathing them in the morning’s soft light. They had competed so long - hours on end - that they had reached the dawn. Any chance at sleep was thoroughly squandered.

They did the only thing they could: they laughed together.

Ochako could not help the sounds emanating from her, as the absurdity of everything crashed into her at once. Her partner fared little better, the manic mirth wracking through him with equal measure. The air filled with it, building up more and more, fueling itself in perpetuity.

“We’re hopeless,” Izuku managed to squeak out.

“They’re gonna kill us,” Ochako said, strangely not feeling any fear at the prospect.

“We finished.”

“At least we can get scolded together.”

They reached out for each other's hands, squeezing gently. Ochako breathed a sigh of relief at the sensation. She had missed the simple gesture. They had no energy left to continue their battle for now. They both needed comfort - there had no reason not to seize it.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I didn’t understand you.” Izuku’s voice took a serious edge. She heard him getting choked up. “I promise - I do need you, Ochako. To face him - and to get there. I want to stay by your side.”

Oh. Ochako let out a shuddering breath at the firm affirmation. Her eyes misted at the idea. That he would keep her by his side - and that he needed her there.

“I’m sorry too. I didn’t make it easy.” She idly curled her free hand into the snow, enjoying the cool sensation against her aching palm. “I was just so lost. I wasn’t sure if I could handle being with you and working to be with you when it really mattered. But I should have been more open about it.”

Izuku did not respond right away. The silent seconds stretched long. Was her apology not enough?

“Do you...do you think you can handle it now?” He sounded so vulnerable. So afraid of her answer. “Being with me?”

That gnawing guilt ate at her again. She could not be certain of her answer to that question. Her beating heart was hard to control in the best of circumstances. The risks were great.

But as she looked over at him - terribly injured by her hand, willing to go so far for her sake - she knew how she had to answer.

With great difficulty, she stood up, making herself weightless to make that a bit easier. Her muscles ached terribly, but she bore it best she could.

When she stood, she leaned down and reached a hand out toward him. She put on her best, sunniest expression for him, which was easier than she thought it would be.

“I don’t know if I can handle it, to be honest. But I know this is what I want to do. I’ll take that risk for you - wherever that might lead. You’re worth it!”

He practically glowed, making her heart flutter. The power he held over her could be difficult sometimes. But she took some solace knowing she held a similar sway over him.

He grasped onto her hand, letting her lift him up.

They quickly ran into the merciful warmth of the training facility. The insanity of their battle finally caught up with them. They shivered together and moved towards the building’s heated vents. They had both fortunately brought a change of clothes and hurriedly got out of their now soaked garb.

They recovered on their favourite bench, beside the ring where it all began. They each rubbed at their arms and legs to get the feeling back into their numb limbs. The process made them ache, but she took solace in the presence. Being with him, without any walls in their way, went a long way toward heating her core.

“That really was brutal,” Izuku muttered as he rubbed his arms with his hands. “I can’t believe my senpai thought she couldn’t keep up with me.”

“Deku!” she exclaimed, unable to control the flush in her face. She pouted as he laughed at her expense, but she joined him quickly. It felt good being able to joke with him again.

“I do mean it though. You kicked my butt out there. There’s no doubt in my mind about your worth as a hero.”

Ochako smiled at him. but shook her head. “That was a draw at best. Who knows how that would have gone if we were in top form? But I appreciate the compliment from the future number one.”

He blushed at the pronouncement, which she delighted in. “Thanks. But I don’t want you to keep thinking that way about your own ability. How am I going to convince you?” He put his hand to his chin, thinking over the question.

“By fighting me. Again.”

“What?!” He sprang up in response as if expecting another attack.

“I’m not saying right away.” She gave him a challenging smirk. She held her hand out for him, asking him for an agreement. “But in a little while. I need to get a lot stronger first. Then we’re going to have a real fight. No holds barred and in nicer weather. Deal?”

Izuku stroked his chin again, his eyes concentrating for a moment. “I still want to help you train again. We can work together. Like we used to do.”

“I suppose I can agree to that,” she said, trying to sound businesslike, but unable to contain the excitement at the proposition.

With a wide grin, Izuku grabbed onto her hand, shaking it. “Deal.”

The two walked out of the facility together, hand-in-hand, tied together by their new pact and reforged bond. For the first time in her life, Ochako had confidence she would be able to stay at his side, through whatever trials emerged.

Together, they walked outside into the dawn, ready to face the darkness to come.

______________________________________________

AN: Written for the IzuOcha Discord Winter Writing Contest. Prompt: Bitter Cold. This also definitely has nothing to do with my mixed feelings about Ochako’s place in the manga recently. Thank you to the organizers for putting this on and inspiring me to write something new after a lengthy hiatus. I hope you enjoyed! Please like and reblog if you did! =)

#izuocha #my hero academia #my hero academia spoilers #manga spoilers #fanfiction #oneshot #Izuku Midoriya #ochako uraraka #angst #shipping #I just like exploring them through combat okay #romance #boko no hero academia

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thejollyroger-writer · 4 years

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THE WASTELAND - Prologue

IT’S HEEEEEERE! For real, you guys, I canNOT express just how excited I am to share this story with you! What started as a prompt from @wellhellotragic in APRIL 2019 has grown into this, my story for @cssns 2020! Specialist of thanks to @shireness-says, who helps me talk out my ideas even though they make no sense to her, the ladies in the discord for sprinting with me in the hour I get to myself at the end of the day, and especially to @spartanguard for her INCREDIBLE artwork! I’m so excited to see what else she comes up with as more of the story gets posted!!

Now, onto the exciting part...

Some triggers: this story is rated TEEN, mostly for violence. It takes place during wartime, and some of the characters go through some violence and torture. If you need more information about this, please just message me!

SUMMARY: In a world that has been saturated in war for as long as anyone can remember, Emma Swan has rebuilt her life as far away from the chaos as possible, opening her own maternity hospital after spending too many years in makeshift battlefield aid stations. But one night, a bloodied and battered soldier finds her hospital trying to get away from an enemy with a penchant for torture and a personal vendetta against him. With the help of Emma’s childhood friend Prince David and a motley collection of humans and magic-wielders, the quest to save Killian Jones’ life from the poison used by the enemy takes them to places even beyond the known world.

Posted on AO3

“There has always been a war,” Prince David’s father always told him. In a way, he’s right. For as long as anyone can remember, as long as written history goes back, there has been the war, though what began as a magic versus non-magic fight has shifted into a power-hungry battle between two leaders — no matter who the leaders are.

Centuries passed, generation gave way to generation, but the war has remained. New technologies have come and gone: horses gave way to trains, only to be replaced by cars and tanks; weapons have come and gone.

But the War has remained. A few leaders have come along to try and stop the two sides from fighting, but none were strong enough to really stop the war, turning to the temptation of corruption before too long. Even the current King of the Gale, King George, started his rule as a kind and understanding ruler, but all it took to change that was the death of his wife, the King turning to dark magic in hopes of getting her back and only finding anger and corruption.

The only thing that has spanned the ages is the War.

The War, and the Wasteland. The two cities have grown, smaller hubs popping up where people have congregated, but the Wasteland remains, a large expanse of land that runs across the middle of the world where nothing will grow, where no people have congregated, barren of even animal life. And this has become the center for the War, home to makeshift barracks and trenches and destruction.

Prince David dreams of a day when the world is a better place, somewhere that he’s not terrified to raise an heir, somewhere where there is more to live for than corruption and violence. But that day hasn’t come, not yet.

-- -- -- --

According to some legends, there has never been a time when the Nephilim and the humans were not at war, but he’s too much of a cynic to believe that. Some part of him has to believe that there was a time, no matter how long ago, when the world was not drowning in war and hatred and destruction — because, if that’s true, then he can still believe that it’s possible for there to be a time after the war. That’s why he decided to fight for the Prince instead of the King; King George lives for war, for fighting, but his son, Prince David, helps men like Killian be sure that there is still good in the world, even when it seems impossible to find.

Though, recently, this good has become harder and harder for him to find, and though he chose to fight for the Prince, he certainly didn’t choose to be captured by the enemy, tortured in hopes of revealing the Prince’s location.

The rain pours down around him, pounding against his aching skin. It's cold, just shy of too cold, and Killian thinks that, maybe, if he could think straight, see straight, focus on anything beyond the sharp thrum of pain rolling through his body, it might even feel good.

But nothing can feel good here, when everything around him is so terrible. His world is broken, his home is broken, his soul is broken, his skin is broken. In multiple places. Scars run up and down his arms, his shoulders, his torso. Gunshots, knife wounds, weirdly-healing scars from magic-users and weres and fae blades — and maybe even a few self-inflicted from his lowest moments.

Not to mention his hand. The wound on his arm from the enemy Nephilim soldiers, the almost-unbelievably large were-shifter and the silent but sadistic fire-wielding sprite that helped torture him, was part of the worst pain he had ever felt. There was nothing he could do about the wound on his chest, the gash so close to his heart he feared they would pierce it, but the wound to his arm was another story. He’s seen a wound like that before, knows exactly the damage it would have across his body if the poison was left to spread, so he did the only thing he could think of to save himself, both from the poison and the chains that bound him and removed the rest of the limb with his own dagger.

He raises his eyes from the ground, needing to focus on something other than the throbbing pain blurring the edges of his vision, some sort of goal that he can dedicate what is left of his quickly depleting energy to. And that's when he sees it, so bright and clear in the darkness of the stormy night that he's sure he's imagining it. But he heads towards it anyway, the bright red cross of salvation like a beacon of hope in front of him.

By the grace of one of the higher powers — he honestly could care less about which one — no atheists in foxholes, one of his superiors used to tell them — the door to the building is open, though the lights are low, only enough to light up the single aisle that runs between the beds that line the walls. There are only a few bodies in the beds — humans and fae of all kinds — and they all seem to be asleep, a fact that his entry to the hospital does not seem to have any effect on. But none of this changes the fact that he has no idea where he is, and — more importantly — whether he has made it out of enemy territory, which changes around these parts quicker than the tides. Somewhere in the back of his mind, in a voice that sounds startlingly like his brother's, he wonders if there is still any such thing as safe territory anymore. He has enough common sense left to drag himself through the aisle between the rows of bed and through a set of double doors, and into what looks like an office off to his left, before finally crumbling on the floor, thankful for the warmth of his new shelter before he finally — finally, every bone in his body screams — succumbs to the pain and passes out.

TAGS: @kmomof4 @thisonesatellite @teamhook @darkcolinodonorgasm @cocohook38 @ultraluckycatnd @facesiousbutton82 @hollyethecurious @stahlop @tiguanasummertree @angellifedeath @pepperpottss @mariakov81 @scientificapricot @teamhook @kday426 @xarandomdreamx @ohmightydevviepuu @xhookswenchx @nikkiemms @carpedzem @superchocovian @resident-of-storybrooke -- want to be added or removed? let me know!

#cssns #captain swan #my writing #wordsbymeganmichael #cs ff #cs fics #fanfiction #magic

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to-read-or-not-to-read3088 · 3 years

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70+ disabled, neurodiverse and chronically ill authors COLLAB

This post is in collaboration with several other bloggers whose links are included here:

Artie Carden

Anniek

Hi! It’s been a while since I posted anything, but this post has been a month in the making. I have twenty books by twenty authors for my part in this collaboration, and you can check out the other parts of the collab with the links at the top of the post.

I haven’t read some of these books but almost all of them are on my to be read pile, and I did extensive research to make sure I got this right, but please let me know if there are any mistakes or if anything needs to be corrected.

1. Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee

📷

Meet Cute Diary follows Noah Ramirez who thinks he’s an expert on romance. He must be for his blog, the Meet Cute Diary, a collection of trans happily ever afters. There’s just one problem. All the stories are fake. What started off as the fantasies of a trans boy who was afraid to step out of the closet has grown into a beacon of hope for trans readers across the globe. Noah’s world unravels when a troll exposes the blog as fiction, and the only way to save the Diary is to convince everyone that the stories are true, but he doesn’t have any proof. That’s when Drew walks into Noah’s life, and the pieces fall into place. Drew is willing to fake date Noah to save the Diary. But when Noah’s feelings grow beyond their staged romance, he realises that dating in real life isn’t the same as finding love on the page.

The author, Emery Lee, is a kid lit author, artist and YouTuber hailing from a mixed racial background. After graduating with a degree in creative writing, e’s gone on to author novels, short stories and webcomics. When away from reading and writing, you’ll likely find em engaged in art or snuggling with cute dogs.

Emery Lee is nonbinary, and uses e/em pronouns, and e’s debut book, Meet Cute Diary, features a side character who is also nonbinary (and asexual!). Emery is also neurodivergent, and frequently speaks about what its like being a writer with adhd on twitter.

Meet Cute Diary is a book I only discovered last month, when it was published, but I’m excited to read it. It has representation of all kinds, and I love any book that has even a little mention of an asexual character because its so rare to see.

2. Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé

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At Niveus Private Academy money paves the hallways, and the students are never less than perfect. Until now. Because an anonymous texter calling themselves Aces, is bringing two students’ dark secrets to light. Devon, a talented musician, buries himself in rehearsals, but he can’t escape the spotlight when his private photos go public. Chiamaka, head girl, isn’t afraid to get what she wants, but soon everyone will know the price she has paid for power. Someone is out to get them both. Someone who holds all the aces. And they’re planning much more than a high school game.

Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé, is the author of the instant New York Times and IndieBound bestseller, Ace of Spades, billed as ‘Get out meets Gossip Girl’. Entertainment Weekly has called it “this summer’s hottest YA debut”. She was born and raised in Croydon, South London, and Faridah moved to the Scottish Highlands for her undergraduate degree where she completed a BA in English Literature. She has established and runs and mentorship scheme for unagented writers of colour, helping them on their journey to get published. Faridah has also written for NME, The Bookseller, Readers Digest and gal-dem.

Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé’s book is one that I pre-ordered months in advance, after discovering that I actually really liked this sub-genre of YA, and although I still haven’t read it yet (sorry!), I’m still super excited to dive into it. From what I hear, it has some gay rep, which we all know by now is something I seek out in my books.

3. Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses by Kristen O’Neal

📷

Priya has worked hard to pursue her pre med dreams at Stanford, but a diagnosis of chronic Lyme disease during her sophomore year sends her straight back to her loving but overbearing family in New Jersey and leaves her wondering if she’ll ever be able to return to the way things were. Thankfully she has her online pen pal, Brigid, and the rest of the members of “oof ouch my bones,” a virtual support group that meets on Discord to crack jokes and vent about their own chronic illnesses. When Brigid suddenly goes offline, Priya does something very out of character; she steals the family car and drives to Pennsylvania to check on Brigid. Priya isn’t sure what to expect, but it isn’t the creature that’s shut in the basement. With Brigid nowhere in sight, Priya begins to puzzle together an impossible but obvious truth: the creature might be werewolf – and the werewolf might be Brigid. As Brigid’s unique condition worsens, their friendship will be deepened and challenged in unexpected ways, forcing them to reckon with their own ideas of what it means to be normal.

Kristen O’Neal is a freelance writer who’s written for sites like Buzzfeed Reader, Christianity Today, Birth.Movies.Death, LitHub and Electric Literature. She writes about faith, culture, and unexplained phenomena. Her debut novel, Lycanthropy and Other Chronic Illnesses is based on her own experiences with being chronically ill. Kristen has two autoimmune disorders and “a number of other problems and issues” with her body. According to her website, she is doing much better than she used to, but still has flares somewhat regularly.

I cannot describe the feeling of seeing a published book with the best group chat name I have ever seen. Oof ouch my bones is absolutely something that I would be part of if it really existed, because its just such a mood, and funny at the same time. I pre ordered this book too, but like all the others, I still haven’t gotten around to reading it. I’m super excited about it though and cannot recommend it enough.

4. Only Mostly Devastated by Sophie Gonzales

📷

Will Tavares is the dream summer fling – he’s fun, affectionate, kind – but just when Ollie thinks he’s found his Happily Ever After, summer vacation ends, and Will stops texting Ollie back. Now Ollie is one prince short of his fairy tale ending, and to complicate the fairy tale further, a family emergency sees Ollie uprooted and enrolled at a new school across the country. Which he minds a little less when he realises it’s the same school Will goes to…except Ollie finds out that the sweet, comfortably queer guy he knew from summer isn’t the same one attending Collinswood High. This Will is a class clown, closeted – and to be honest, a jerk. Ollie has no intention of pining after a guy who clearly isn’t ready for a relationship, especially since this new, bro-y jock version of Will seems to go from hot to cold every other week. But then Will starts “coincidentally” popping up in every area of Ollie’s life, from music class to the lunch table, and Ollie finds his resolve weakening. The last time he gave Will his heart, Will handed it back to him trampled and battered. Ollie would have to be an idiot to trust him with it again. Right? Right.

Sophie Gonzales was born and raised in Whyalla, South Australia, where the Outback Meets the Sea. She now lives in Melbourne, where there’s no outback in sight. Sophie’s been writing since the age of five, when her mother decided to help her type out one of the stories she had come up with in the bathtub. They ran into artistic differences when five-year-old Sophie insisted that everybody die in the end, while her mother wanted the characters to simply go out for a milkshake. Since then, Sophie has been completing her novels without a transcript. Sophie Gonzales tweets about her experiences with ADHD on her twitter.

Only mostly devasted is one of the few books on this list that I’ve read. I read the whole thing in one sitting because I just couldn’t put it down, which is weird because I normally don’t read contemporary at all. I have recommended this book to literally everyone I know, and even bought my best friend a copy to convince her to read it.

5. The Bone Houses by Emily Lloyd Jones

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Seventeen-year-old Aderyn ("Ryn") only cares about two things: her family, and her family's graveyard. And right now, both are in dire straits. Since the death of their parents, Ryn and her siblings have been scraping together a meagre existence as gravediggers in the remote village of Colbren, which sits at the foot of a harsh and deadly mountain range that was once home to the fae. The problem with being a gravedigger in Colbren, though, is that the dead don't always stay dead. The risen corpses are known as "bone houses," and legend says that they're the result of a decades-old curse. When Ellis, an apprentice mapmaker with a mysterious past, arrives in town, the bone houses attack with new ferocity. What is it that draws them near? And more importantly, how can they be stopped for good? Together, Ellis and Ryn embark on a journey that will take them deep into the heart of the mountains, where they will have to face both the curse and the long-hidden truths about themselves.

Emily Lloyd-Jones grew up on a vineyard in rural Oregon, where she played in evergreen forests and learned to fear sheep. After graduating from Western Oregon University with an English degree, she enrolled in the publishing program at Rosemont College just outside of Philadelphia. She currently resides in Northern California.

Another book on my to be read pile that I’m super excited to read, but still haven’t gotten around to. This one features disability rep, but because I haven’t read it, I don’t know much more, sorry guys.

6. Mooncakes by Susanne Walker and Wendy Xu

📷Nova Huang knows more about magic than your average teen witch. She works at her grandmothers' bookshop, where she helps them loan out spell books and investigate any supernatural occurrences in their New England town. One fateful night, she follows reports of a white wolf into the woods, and she comes across the unexpected: her childhood crush, Tam Lang, battling a horse demon in the woods. As a werewolf, Tam has been wandering from place to place for years, unable to call any town home. Pursued by dark forces eager to claim the magic of wolves and out of options, Tam turns to Nova for help. Their latent feelings are rekindled against the backdrop of witchcraft, untested magic, occult rituals, and family ties both new and old in this enchanting tale of self-discovery.

Suzanne Walker is a Chicago-based writer and editor. She is co-creator of the Hugo-nominated graphic novel Mooncakes (2019, Lion Forge/Oni Press). Her short fiction has been published in Clarkesworld and Uncanny Magazine, and she has published nonfiction articles with Uncanny Magazine, StarTrek.com, Women Write About Comics, and the anthology Barriers and Belonging: Personal Narratives of Disability. She has spoken at numerous conventions on a variety of topics ranging from disability representation in sci-fi/fantasy to comics collaboration.

Wendy Xu is a Brooklyn-based illustrator and comics artist. She is co-creator of and currently draws the webcomic Mooncakes. Her work has been featured on Tor.com, as part of the Chinese American: Exclusion/Inclusion exhibit permanently housed at the Chinese Historical Society of America, and in Shattered: The Asian American Comics Anthology. She occasionally teaches at the Asian American Writers Workshop and currently works as an assistant editor curating young adult and children’s books.

Suzanne Walker suffers from hearing loss, something that she wrote into her graphic novel, Mooncakes, making Nova hard of hearing. I read this in a few years ago as an advance reader copy for Netgalley and it was honestly one of the best graphic novels I have ever read. The main characters are Chinese American, queer AND magic, which is an amazing combination of representation.

7. Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo

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Ketterdam: a bustling hub of international trade where anything can be had for the right price—and no one knows that better than criminal prodigy Kaz Brekker. Kaz is offered a chance at a deadly heist that could make him rich beyond his wildest dreams. But he can’t pull it off alone… A convict with a thirst for revenge A sharpshooter who can’t walk away from a wager A runaway with a privileged past A spy known as the Wraith A Heartrender using her magic to survive the slums A thief with a gift for unlikely escapes Kaz’s crew is the only thing that might stand between the world and destruction—if they don’t kill each other first.

Leigh Bardugo is a #1 New York Times bestselling author of fantasy novels and the creator of the Grishaverse (now a Netflix original series) which spans the Shadow and Bone Trilogy, the Six of Crows Duology, The Language of Thorns, and King of Scars—with more to come. Her short stories can be found in multiple anthologies, including the Best American Science Fiction & Fantasy. Her other works include Wonder Woman: Warbringer and Ninth House (Goodreads Choice Winner for Best Fantasy 2019) which is being developed for television by Amazon Studios.

Leigh grew up in Southern California and graduated from Yale University. These days she lives and writes in Los Angeles.

In the acknowledgements section of Six of Crows, Bardugo reveals she suffers from osteonecrosis and sometimes needs to use a cane; this was a source of inspiration for one of the story's six protagonists, master thief and gang boss Kaz Brekker, who uses a cane.

I read Six of Crows a few years ago and I really loved it. I’m not going to pretend I managed to finish the whole Grishaverse series, because I haven’t even gotten close yet, but it really showed Kaz’s struggles with his disability, and his mental health. This is part of a duology, and the duology is part of a large series of books with another duology and trilogy, but Six of Crows can be read without reading the others.

8. Hyperbole and A Half by Allie Brosh

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This is a book I wrote. Because I wrote it, I had to figure out what to put on the back cover to explain what it is. I tried to write a long, third-person summary that would imply how great the book is and also sound vaguely authoritative--like maybe someone who isn’t me wrote it--but I soon discovered that I’m not sneaky enough to pull it off convincingly. So, I decided to just make a list of things that are in the book: Pictures Words Stories about things that happened to me Stories about things that happened to other people because of me Eight billion dollars* Stories about dogs The secret to eternal happiness* *These are lies. Perhaps I have underestimated my sneakiness!

Allie is an American blogger, writer and comic artist best known for her blog in the form of a webcomic Hyperbole and a Half. Brosh started Hyperbole in 2009 and told stories from her life in a mix of text and intentionally crude illustrations. She has published two books telling stories in the same style, both of which have been New York Times bestsellers. Brosh lives with severe depression and ADHD, and her comics on depression have won praise from fans and mental health professionals.

Another book on my tbr that I just haven’t gotten around to but really want to.

9. The Rest of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness

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What if you aren’t the Chosen One? The one who’s supposed to fight the zombies, or the soul-eating ghosts, or whatever the heck this new thing is, with the blue lights and the death? What if you’re like Mikey? Who just wants to graduate and go to prom and maybe finally work up the courage to ask Henna out before someone goes and blows up the high school. Again. Because sometimes there are problems bigger than this week’s end of the world, and sometimes you just must find the extraordinary in your ordinary life. Even if your best friend is worshipped by mountain lions...

Patrick Ness, an award-winning novelist, has written for England’s Radio 4 and Sunday Telegraph and is a literary critic for The Guardian. He has written many books, including the Chaos Walking Trilogy, The Crash of Hennington, Topics About Which I Know Nothing, and A Monster Calls. He has won numerous awards, including the Guardian Children’s Fiction Prize, the Booktrust Teenage Prize, and the Costa Children’s Book Award. Born in Virginia, he currently lives in London.

Patrick Ness has written about OCD and anxiety in at least two of his books, inspired by his own experiences with the two disorders and how it affects him (The Rest of Us Just Live Here & Release)

10. Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire

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Eleanor West’s Home for Wayward Children No Solicitations No Visitors No Quests Children have always disappeared under the right conditions; slipping through the shadows under a bed or at the back of a wardrobe, tumbling down rabbit holes and into old wells, and emerging somewhere... else. But magical lands have little need for used-up miracle children. Nancy tumbled once, but now she’s back. The things she’s experienced... they change a person. The children under Miss West’s care understand all too well. And each of them is seeking a way back to their own fantasy world. But Nancy’s arrival marks a change at the Home. There’s a darkness just around each corner, and when tragedy strikes, it’s up to Nancy and her new-found schoolmates to get to the heart of the matter. No matter the cost.

Seanan lives in an idiosyncratically designed labyrinth in the Pacific Northwest, which she shares with her cats, Alice and Thomas, a vast collection of creepy dolls and horror movies, and sufficient books to qualify her as a fire hazard. She has strongly held and oft-expressed beliefs about the origins of the Black Death, the X-Men, and the need for chainsaws in daily life.

Years of writing blurbs for convention program books have fixed Seanan in the habit of writing all her bios in the third person, to sound marginally less dorky. Stress is on the "marginally." It probably doesn't help that she has so many hobbies.

Seanan was the winner of the 2010 John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer, and her novel Feed (as Mira Grant) was named as one of Publishers Weekly's Best Books of 2010. In 2013 she became the first person ever to appear five times on the same Hugo Ballot.

Seanan McGuire has an invisible disability due to herniated disks in her spine. She is slowly coming to terms with this, and talks about it occasionally on her twitter, and about the struggles she faces.

I loved this book, and so did my best friend. We both read it in one sitting and talked nonstop about it afterwards. Although short, its filled with amazing characters, plot, and representation (asexual character!!)

11. Girls of Paper and Fire by Natasha Ngan

Each year, eight beautiful girls are chosen as Paper Girls to serve the king. It's the highest honour they could hope for...and the most demeaning. This year, there's a ninth. And instead 📷of paper, she's made of fire. In this richly developed fantasy, Lei is a member of the Paper caste, the lowest and most persecuted class of people in Ikhara. She lives in a remote village with her father, where the decade-old trauma of watching her mother snatched by royal guards for an unknown fate still haunts her. Now, the guards are back and this time it's Lei they're after -- the girl with the golden eyes whose rumoured beauty has piqued the king's interest. Over weeks of training in the opulent but oppressive palace, Lei and eight other girls learns the skills and charm that befit a king's consort. There, she does the unthinkable -- she falls in love. Her forbidden romance becomes enmeshed with an explosive plot that threatens her world's entire way of life. Lei, still the wide-eyed country girl at heart, must decide how far she's willing to go for justice and revenge.

Natasha Ngan is a writer and yoga teacher. She grew up between Malaysia, where the Chinese side of her family is from, and the UK. This multicultural upbringing continues to influence her writing, and she is passionate about bringing diverse stories to teens. Ngan studied Geography at the University of Cambridge before working as a social media consultant and fashion blogger. She lives in France with her partner, where they recently moved from Paris to be closer to the sea. Her novel Girls of Paper and Fire was a New York Times bestseller. Natasha has a heart condition, and talks about her struggles with her health, and gives updates on her health and her books on twitter.

I’ve heard a lot about this book, but for trigger warning reasons it sadly isn’t on my to be read list. Everything I’ve heard about it says its an amazing book though, and the cover is beautiful.

12. Queens of Geek by Jen Wilde

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Three friends, two love stories, one convention: this fun, feminist love letter to geek culture is all about fandom, friendship, and finding the courage to be yourself. Charlie likes to stand out. She’s a vlogger and actress promoting her first movie at SupaCon, and this is her chance to show fans she’s over her public breakup with co-star Reese Ryan. When internet-famous cool-girl actress Alyssa Huntington arrives as a surprise guest, it seems Charlie’s long-time crush on her isn’t as one-sided as she thought. Taylor likes to blend in. Her brain is wired differently, making her fear change. And there’s one thing in her life she knows will never change: her friendship with her best guy friend Jamie—no matter how much she may secretly want it to. But when she hears about a fan contest for her favourite fandom, she starts to rethink her rules on playing it safe.

Jen Wilde is the YA author of QUEENS OF GEEK, THE BRIGHTSIDERS and GOING OFF SCRIPT. She writes unapologetically queer stories about geeks, rockstars, and fangirls who smash the patriarchy in their own unique ways. Her books have been praised in Teen Vogue, Buzzfeed, Autostraddle, Vulture and Bustle. Originally from Australia, Jen now lives in NYC where she spends her time writing, drinking too much coffee and binging reality TV.

Researching for this collab was the first time this book popped up on my radar as something I might be interested in reading. Jen Wilde, the author, is herself autistic and suffers from anxiety, which gives the narrative “authenticity that is lacking in similar books” according to socialjusticebooks.org.

13. The Upside of Unrequited by Becky Albertalli

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Seventeen-year-old Molly Peskin-Suso knows all about unrequited love—she’s lived through it twenty-six times. She crushes hard and crushes often, but always in secret. Because no matter how many times her twin sister, Cassie, tells her to woman up, Molly can’t stomach the idea of rejection. So, she’s careful. Fat girls always have to be careful. Then a cute new girl enters Cassie’s orbit, and for the first time ever, Molly’s cynical twin is a lovesick mess. Meanwhile, Molly’s totally not dying of loneliness—except for the part where she is. Luckily, Cassie’s new girlfriend comes with a cute hipster-boy sidekick. Will is funny and flirtatious and just might be perfect crush material. Maybe more than crush material. And if Molly can win him over, she’ll get her first kiss and she’ll get her twin back. There’s only one problem: Molly’s co-worker Reid. He’s an awkward Tolkien superfan with a season pass to the Ren Faire, and there’s absolutely no way Molly could fall for him. Right?

Becky Albertalli is the author of the acclaimed novels Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda (film: Love, Simon), The Upside of Unrequited, and Leah on the Offbeat. She is also the co-author of What If It's Us with Adam Silvera. A former clinical psychologist who specialized in working with children and teens, Becky lives with her family in Atlanta.

Becky Albertalli has generalised anxiety disorder (GAD), and has spoken about it in several interviews, which you can find online. She has also written several characters in her books who also suffer with anxiety. Her first book, Simon vs the Homosapien’s Agenda (or Love, Simon), is the only book of hers that I have read so far, and I loved it. It was the first contemporary book that I read and actually enjoyed.

14. Carve the Mark by Veronica Roth

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Cyra is the sister of the brutal tyrant who rules the Shotet people. Cyra’s current gift gives her pain and power—something her brother exploits, using her to torture his enemies. But Cyra is much more than just a blade in her brother’s hand: she is resilient, quick on her feet, and smarter than he knows. Akos is the son of a farmer and an oracle from the frozen nation-planet of Thuvhe. Protected by his unusual currentgift, Akos is generous in spirit, and his loyalty to his family is limitless. Once Akos and his brother are captured by enemy Shotet soldiers, Akos is desperate to get his brother out alive—no matter what the cost. Then Akos is thrust into Cyra's world, and the enmity between their countries and families seems insurmountable. Will they help each other to survive, or will they destroy one another?

Veronica Roth is the #1 New York Times best-selling author of the Divergent series (Divergent, Insurgent, Allegiant, and Four: A Divergent Collection), the Carve the Mark duology (Carve the Mark, the Fates Divide), The End and Other Beginnings collection of short fiction, and many short stories and essays. Her first book for adult audiences, Chosen Ones, is out now. She lives in Chicago.

Veronica Roth suffers from anxiety, like a lot of the authors on this list, and talks about it in interviews. A quote from one: "I've had an anxiety disorder my whole life, so I've been to therapy on and off throughout, before books and after books. I went back and tried to talk through some of the things I was feeling and experiencing, and it was helpful."

I’ve never read any of her books, not even the hugely famous Divergent trilogy, though they’ve been on my radar for years. I’d love to get into her books at some point, but it might take me a few years.

15. How to be Autistic by Charlotte Amelia Poe

📷An urgent, funny, shocking, and impassioned memoir by the winner of the Spectrum Art Prize 2018, How To Be Autistic by Charlotte Amelia Poe presents the rarely shown point of view of someone living with autism. Poe’s voice is confident, moving and often funny, as they reveal to us a very personal account of autism, mental illness, gender and sexual identity. As we follow Charlotte’s journey through school and college, we become as awestruck by their extraordinary passion for life as by the enormous privations that they must undergo to live it. From food and fandom to body modification and comic conventions, Charlotte’s experiences through the torments of schooldays and young adulthood leave us with a riot of conflicting emotions: horror, empathy, despair, laugh-out-loud amusement and, most of all, respect. For Charlotte, autism is a fundamental aspect of their identity and art. They address the reader in a voice that is direct, sharply clever and ironic. They witness their own behaviour with a wry humour as they sympathise with those who care for them, yet all the while challenging the neurotypical narratives of autism as something to be ‘fixed’. This is an exuberant, inspiring, life-changing insight into autism from a viewpoint almost entirely missing from public discussion. ‘I wanted to show the side of autism that you don’t find in books and on Facebook. My story is about survival, fear and, finally, hope. There will be parts that make you want to cover your eyes, but I beg you to read on, because if I can change just one person’s perceptions, if I can help one person with autism feel like they’re less alone, then this will all be worth it.’ Charlotte Amelia Poe is a self-taught artist and writer living in Lowestoft, Suffolk. They also work with video and won the inaugural Spectrum Art Prize with the film they submitted, 'How to Be Autistic’. Myriad published Charlotte's memoir, How to Be Autistic, in September 2019.

Another book I didn’t know about until researching for this post, but I really want to read it because I haven’t read many books about autism, and practically none of them were actually written by someone who actually is autistic. Charlotte uses they/them pronouns.

16. Ask me about my Uterus by Abby Norman

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For any woman who has experienced illness, chronic pain, or endometriosis comes an inspiring memoir advocating for recognition of women's health issues In the fall of 2010, Abby Norman's strong dancer's body dropped forty pounds and grey hairs began to sprout from her temples. She was repeatedly hospitalized in excruciating pain, but the doctors insisted it was a urinary tract infection and sent her home with antibiotics. Unable to get out of bed, much less attend class, Norman dropped out of college and embarked on what would become a years-long journey to discover what was wrong with her. It wasn't until she took matters into her own hands--securing a job in a hospital and educating herself over lunchtime reading in the medical library--that she found an accurate diagnosis of endometriosis. In Ask Me About My Uterus, Norman describes what it was like to have her pain dismissed, to be told it was all in her head, only to be taken seriously when she was accompanied by a boyfriend who confirmed that her sexual performance was, indeed, compromised. Putting her own trials into a broader historical, sociocultural, and political context, Norman shows that women's bodies have long been the battleground of a never-ending war for power, control, medical knowledge, and truth. It's time to refute the belief that being a woman is a pre-existing condition.

Abby Norman’s debut book, ASK ME ABOUT MY UTERUS: A Quest to Make Doctors Believe in Women’s Pain, was published by Bold Type Books (Hachette Book Group) in 2018, with advance praise from Gillian Anderson, Lindsey Fitzharris, Jenny Lawson, and Padma Lakshmi.

The book was praised by The New York Times Book Review, The Wall Street Journal, New York Magazine, The Washington Post, The Sunday Times, The Irish Times, Literary Review, The Times Literary Supplement, The New Republic, Book Riot, Toronto Star, ELLE, Health Magazine, Undark Magazine, BUST Magazine, Bitch Magazine, Ms. Magazine, BBC Radio 5, and other international media outlets.

In 2019, the paperback edition was published in the U.S. and the Korean translation in Seoul (Momento Publishing/Duran Kim Agency).

Her work has been featured in Harper’s, Medium, The Independent, Literary Hub, The Rumpus, Mental Floss, Atlas Obscura, and elsewhere. Interviews and profiles have been seen and heard, including NPR/WNYC, BBC, Anchor.fm, The New York Times, Playboy, Forbes, Glamour, Women’s Health, and Bitch Magazine.

Abby Norman suffers from endometriosis, which was a large part of why she wrote her book, and why she advocates so hard for fellow patients at conferences such as Stanford University’s Stanford Medicine X and the Endometriosis Foundation of America’s medical conference and Patient Day. She is

Abby has served on technical expert panels including the National Partnership for Women and Families’ CORE Network (Yale University), the American Congress of Obstetricians and Gynecologists (ACOG), the Centres for Medicare and Medicaid, The Society for Women’s Health Research (SWHR), and Health Affairs.

In 2019, Abby contributed to a paper addressing research gaps and unmet needs in endometriosis published in the American Journal of Obstetrics and Gynecology.

This book is definitely one I will be adding to my to be read list, as someone who (unfortunately) also has a uterus, it is important to be informed. And Abby sounds like such a badass who wrote a whole book about her chronic illness to help others with the same condition.

17. Stim: Autistic Anthology by Lizzie Huxley-Jones

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Around one in one hundred people in the UK are autistic, yet there remains a fundamental misunderstanding of what autism is. It is rare that autistic people get to share their own experiences, show how creative and talented and passionate they are, how different they are from media stereotypes. This insightful and eye-opening collection of essays, fiction and visual art showcases the immense talents of some of the UK's most exciting writers and artists - who just happen to be on the spectrum. Here they reclaim the power to speak for themselves and redefine what it means to be autistic. Stim invites the reader into the lives, experiences, minds of the eighteen contributors, and asks them to recognise the hurdles of being autistic in a non-autistic world and to uncover the empathy and understanding necessary to continue to champion brilliant yet unheard voices.

Lizzie (Hux) Huxley-Jones is an autistic author and editor based in London. They are the editor of Stim, an anthology of autistic authors and artists, which was published by Unbound in April 2020 to coincide with World Autism Awareness Week. They are also the author of the children’s biography Sir David Attenborough: A Life Story. They can be found editing at independent micropublisher 3 of Cups Press, and they also advise writers as a freelance sensitivity reader and consultant. In their past career lives, they have been a research diver, a children’s bookseller and digital communications specialist.

I wasn’t even aware that there was an anthology out there by an autistic author, about autism, but now that I do I need to read it.

18. Chimera by Jaecyn Bonê

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Creatures unlike you've imagined before! Welcome to a world where myths and legends collide to create a new breed of monster. Savage and soulful, these monstrosities combine to form the mighty Chimera. In this anthology, talented writers weave 10 tales of fantastical beasts. Featuring stories by: Matt Bliss Jaecyn Boné Alexis L. Carroll Chris Durston Dewi Hargreaves Stephen Howard Samuel Logan Vincent Metzo Braden Rohl Michelle Tang

Jaecyn is a queer, non-binary, disabled Asian-American writer and digital artist fascinated by faeries.

Most of their writing involves wlw romance and faery-inspired creatures. Their first novel, Farzana's Spite is a 10-year-old work in progress and the first novel in The Faerth series. Other works include The Killing Song (novel) and Colour Unknown (short), both of which are also part of the Faerth universe.

Jaecyn's art can be described as a neorealistic pop art style with cel shading. They began their digital art journey with a 5-year-old refurbished iPad using their finger as a stylus and immediately fell in love. They do digital download commissions as well as sell prints of their artwork.

Jaecyn is the Co-Editor in Chief of the Limeoncello Magazine, an online Own Voices literary magazine which debuted its first issue on March 21st, 2021.

When not writing, drawing, or chasing after their two children, they can be found either gardening or practicing their ukulele.

None of Jaecyn Boné’s books are published yet as they are still in the stage of querying, but they contributed to the above anthology, along with nine other authors. I had no idea that this anthology existed, and now I’ll be closely following this author to see when their books get published!

19. Forest of Souls by Lori M Lee

Sirscha Ashwyn comes from nothing, but she’s intent on becoming something. After years of training to become the queen’s next royal spy, her plans are derailed when shamans attack 📷and kill her best friend Saengo. And then Sirscha, somehow, restores Saengo to life. Unveiled as the first soul guide in living memory, Sirscha is summoned to the domain of the Spider King. For centuries, he has used his influence over the Dead Wood—an ancient forest possessed by souls—to enforce peace between the kingdoms. Now, with the trees growing wild and untamed, only a soul guide can restrain them. As war looms, Sirscha must master her newly awakened abilities before the trees shatter the brittle peace, or worse, claim Saengo, the friend she would die for.

Lori M. Lee is the author of speculative novels and short stories. Her books include PAHUA AND THE SOUL STEALER (Disney/Rick Riordan Presents), FOREST OF SOULS and the sequel BROKEN WEB (Page Street), and more. She’s also a contributor to the anthologies A THOUSAND BEGINNINGS AND ENDINGS and COLOR OUTSIDE THE LINES. She considers herself a unicorn fan, enjoys marathoning TV shows, and loves to write about magic, manipulation, and family.

Lori struggles with anxiety, and the common symptoms like fatigue but she doesn’t let this stop her writing amazing books. I read Forest of Souls earlier this year, and it was seriously one of the best books I’ve ever read. I loved the magic, the characters, the world building. Everything about it, including the plot twist ending that had me losing my mind at 2am, was just so unlike anything I had read in any other fantasy before.

20. A Song of Wraiths and Ruin by Roseanne A Brown

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For Malik, the Solstasia festival is a chance to escape his war-stricken home and start a new life with his sisters in the prosperous desert city of Ziran. But when a vengeful spirit abducts Malik’s younger sister, Nadia, as payment into the city, Malik strikes a fatal deal—kill Karina, Crown Princess of Ziran, for Nadia’s freedom. But Karina has deadly aspirations of her own. Her mother, the Sultana, has been assassinated; her court threatens mutiny; and Solstasia looms like a knife over her neck. Grief-stricken, Karina decides to resurrect her mother through ancient magic . . . requiring the beating heart of a king. And she knows just how to obtain one: by offering her hand in marriage to the victor of the Solstasia competition. When Malik rigs his way into the contest, they are set on a course to destroy each other. But as attraction flares between them and ancient evils stir, will they be able to see their tasks to the death?

Roseanne “Rosie” A. Brown was born in Kumasi, Ghana and immigrated to the wild jungles of central Maryland as a child. Writing was her first love, and she knew from a young age that she wanted to use the power of writing—creative and otherwise—to connect the different cultures she called home. She graduated from the University of Maryland with a Bachelor’s in Journalism and was also a teaching assistant for the school’s Jiménez-Porter Writers’ House program. Her journalistic work has been featured by Voice of America among other outlets.

On the publishing side of things, she has worked as an editorial intern at Entangled Publishing. Rosie was a 2017 Pitch Wars mentee and 2018 Pitch Wars mentor. Rosie currently lives outside Washington D.C., where in her free time she can usually be found wandering the woods, making memes, or thinking about Star Wars.

Roseanne is another author that struggles with anxiety and wrote one of her two main characters with generalised anxiety disorder (GAD), despite it being a fantasy. I don’t even think I can name a fantasy that had a character with anxiety represented so well. This was a book I read around the same time as Forest of Souls, and I loved it. The cover was beautiful, the characters were brilliant, and I just loved the world building, the magic, and the plot. It was just different to the usual fantasy books I read, and I enjoyed the variation so much I’ve had the sequel pre ordered almost a year in advance.

So, this was my 20 books by 20 chronically ill, disabled or neurodiverse authors list. Blurbs and synopsis were compiled between Goodreads and author websites, and bios were found either on Goodreads, author websites or on amazon author pages. All the information about their chronic illnesses, disabilities or neurodivergence was found online, where they had either explicitly said it or written about it, but if I have something wrong, please let me know so I can fix it!

If you have any other suggestions or know any other books and authors that should be on this list, please let me know and I’ll do my best to add it to the list as soon as possible.

Thanks for reading 😊

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